#was going to the gym but it was literally so perfect out
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velvetvexations · 2 days ago
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anti-transmasculine discourse makes me feel so gaslit and crazy. right now there’s a wave of “DIY t is so easy to get you just have to talk to any man at the gym” and when clocky pre-guys are like “I think it’s a little bad faith to suggest that outing myself to a random man at the gym is a sound solution to hormone bans and I think that would put me in danger” they’re like “pussy. it’s so funny how tboys are scared of cis men when most cis men are just cool himbos who would never hurt you. tboys are scared of cis men because they never go outside and are latent terfs.” and all of this after we are constantly told we are pulling a “not all men” if we say some men need reproductive healthcare or talk about feeling isolated when people we have known for years start treating us like predators the second we come out. also the constant implication that terfism is not at all about hatred of men until trans men are scared of cis men, then our trepidation is because of our secret terfism. the goalposts are constantly being moved. trans seperatism is necessary because men are all very dangerous and also cis guys are also all perfect angels who we definitely have no real life experiences of receiving violence from. I feel like these people are literally just getting a kick out of playing a game of “stop hitting yourself” with people they view as physically and intellectually inferior and just aesthetically cringey. I don’t know how to take it anymore.
I know how tiring it all is. To be honest it's really been hitting me lately and really ramping up my depression. Everything feels so bleak and pointless.
I love you though, anon. <3 There's still light left, we just have to keep trying really hard to find it and spread it around the best we can.
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aquaticjess · 2 months ago
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mark my words….im getting abs this year
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vanity-complex · 2 years ago
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dogcollarpunk · 2 years ago
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the punk shorts r so so comfy I should stop wearing them 24/7 tho
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m1ckeyb3rry · 11 months ago
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what it’s like to bring the jjk boys to…have dinner with your family!
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ft. fushiguro megumi, fushiguro toji, gojo satoru, geto suguru, ijichi kyotaka, inumaki toge, itadori yuji, kamo choso, kamo noritoshi, mahito, muta kokichi, nanami kento, okkotsu yuta, panda, ryomen sukuna, todo aoi, yaga masamichi, yoshino junpei, zenin naoya
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warnings: not all of these are romantic! reader is lowkey desi coded in some of them. reader is mentioned to have a brother, dogs, aunts/uncles, and cousins in some of them. reader slanders like 75% of the characters. honestly the characters might be ooc too i wrote this two years ago for fun and giggles and just found it again and wanted to post. also tw naoya!
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FUSHIGURO MEGUMI
Literally perfect
Your parents love him
Your dogs love him
You love him
Was kind of quiet at first but settled in eventually and opened up a bit
Was still kind of reserved but that’s to be expected from him
Your mother found it sweet that he tried to hide behind you when your uncles started interrogating getting to know him 
He let your younger cousins play with his shikigami so that your dogs could get a break from being bothered
Really liked the salad your mother made and asked for the recipe
1000/10 
FUSHIGURO TOJI
Actually not too bad
Was polite enough and liked the food
Showed your parents pictures of Megumi as a baby
They were suitably impressed
Your cousin asked him where he goes to the gym
He told him he doesn’t believe in gyms (thinks they’re oppressive institutions designed to disadvantage the poor?)
Did give him a discount code for some random protein powder that he’s sponsored by though
Asked your parents to donate to his charity
They were happy to do so and thought it was amazing that he has a charity
You decided not to tell them that his “charity” is literally just his bank account
4/10 for scamming your family
GOJO SATORU
Solid 7/10
Goofs around a lot but he did come so he gets points for that
Your parents hated him at first but then he showed them the album of cute Megumi pictures he has saved on his phone and they switched up
“He’s so responsible for raising a kid so young! And it’s not even his!”
Bullshit
He does NOT raise Megumi and you were the one who sent him half of those pictures 
Demoted to a 6/10 just for that but at least your parents like him
Also the fact that he had an album was cute
Somehow managed to keep the dirty jokes to a minimum
Your brother kept making fun of his eyes being so blue so halfway through he had to switch the glasses out for the blindfold
Surprisingly high spice tolerance
GETO SUGURU
Honestly really a fun guy!
Actually brought his own dish to the dinner??
AND IT WAS GOOD????
Your mother wants you two to get married now
Asked if he could take some leftovers back for Mimiko and Nanako
Which was very considerate of him actually
Your mother told him he didn’t have to return the dishes she packed the food in
Let your brother win at Scrabble
Listened to your mother talk about the auntie drama
Apparently he’s going to start putting coconut oil in his hair now
Your parents are going to adopt him and kick you out
9/10 would’ve been higher but he didn’t beat your brother’s ass at Scrabble (he wanted to “make a good impression”)
IJICHI KYOTAKA
Similar to Nanami in that he and your father got along really well
Your brother called him “goofy”
He had to go to the bathroom and cry after that
He did compose himself and came back to eat
Can handle spicy food quite well
Complimented your mother’s cooking
Brought flowers as a thank you for the dinner
Was super sweet and grateful to be invited at all
11/10 would definitely invite him again
INUMAKI TOGE
Everyone was really excited to meet him
Let your cousins play with his hair and do his make up and paint his nails
Was your partner for Charades and you two won by a LOT
Kept sneaking treats to your dogs
Your mother ordered seafood for him because he could only speak in rice ball ingredients and she thought he really wanted salmon
He did eat it though
He would be a 10/10 but he accidentally used his Cursed Speech on your aunt so 8/10
ITADORI YUJI
Somehow lit the grill on fire
Managed to put it out but he did lose his eyebrows in the process unfortunately
Looked stupid without eyebrows
Spent most of his time hanging out with the little kids
Your family actually really liked him though
He’s too sweet to dislike
Helped wash the dishes and did not break any
7/10 because you almost had to call the fire department
KAMO CHOSO
Showed up an hour late
Was friendly but kinda nervous and awkward at first
Loved the food
He and your brother are best friends now
Genuinely he gets along better with your brother than with you
Impressed your father with his history knowledge
3/10 was too perfect and now your parents keep asking why you’re not more like him
KAMO NORITOSHI
He hates kids
Spent the entire first half running away from your cousins
Once he finally escaped he got along great with the adults
They really liked how responsible and mature he is
Thought it was impressive that he’s going to be the clan head
Your aunt told you that he was a keeper and you should “marry for money, hope for love”
Started crying when your mother asked him if she could hang up his jacket for him
It reminded him of his own mother who he was forced to leave as a kid 
All of your aunts have unofficially adopted him now due to his tragic backstory
Deserves 10/10 just for being relatively normal 
MAHITO
-892378/10 your parents couldn’t see him because he’s a curse
He was very happy to hear that and nearly destroyed your house
You had to call Geto halfway through to chase him off
Your family was thrilled to see Geto again though so at least there’s that??
MUTA KOKICHI
Sent a robot in his place obviously
Everyone wanted to know why you brought a robot to dinner
They thought you had hit a new low
You had to explain that Mechamaru was basically his body because of how weak his actual body was
Nobody believed you
-3/10 he was nice but it was overall a humiliating experience
NANAMI KENTO
Cannot eat anything spicy
Started tearing up at the appetizers alone
Had a massive stomach ache afterwards and his face was red for like twenty minutes 
Your father liked talking to him about business and the economy and shit
Did not get scared when asked about his plans for the future
Actually has plans for the future
Your brother is kind of gay for him tbh (??) and threatened to marry him if you don’t 
10/10 because he still finished everything on his plate so he didn’t seem rude even though he was lowkey dying 
OKKOTSU YUTA
Tried his best
Your dogs tried to leave with him because they liked him so much
He brought gifts from Africa for your entire family
Did stop a toddler from getting kidnapped
Is physically really good at grilling but emotionally cannot handle the stress
Had a mental breakdown when you asked for a vegetable burger
Made the discovery that he really likes corn and proceeded to eat all of the corn you had bought for the night so nobody else got any 
Summoned Rika and allowed your cousins to use her as their dress up doll
Rika was very nice and enjoyed the experience
She wants to be a fashion model now
2/10 he burnt your vegetable burger and you were really looking forward to having some corn
PANDA
Is a panda
Your younger cousins thought he was adorable
You got asked multiple times if he was a furry
5/10 he was only invited because he had nothing else to do and you had to chase him with a hose beforehand because he refused to bathe
RYOMEN SUKUNA
-1244129/10
An asshole but what’s new 
Told your family to “go back to where you came from”
Degraded your parents
Degraded you
Degraded everyone really
You got into a fight with him and Gojo had to intervene
Did ask for one of your mother’s recipes so he could get Uraume to cook it for him
She did not give it to him
TODO AOI
See you thought this would be hell on earth
But it wasn’t???
Played with your dogs
Carried your cousins around on his shoulders
Your uncles were impressed by his muscles
He saved a kitten that was stuck in a tree
Did not ask a single person about their type in women
Annihilated everyone in Wii Sports Resort
Absolutely sucked at Just Dance though
He thought he was too manly for the wrist strap but then he threw the remote into the TV while playing Wii bowling and it broke
6/10 he said he’d pay for a new one
YAGA MASAMICHI
Literally your boss
Only invited him because you wanted a raise
He liked the food
Exchanged sewing tips with your mother
200/10 you got the raise
YOSHINO JUNPEI
Really cool!
Gave everyone good movie recommendations
Someone gave him a baby to hold and he nearly dropped it
Burnt his hand on the grill
Found your uncles’ shitty jokes funny so they all liked him
He was decent at debating with everyone and having intellectual conversations even though he cried whenever someone disagreed with him too harshly
Your parents were very dismayed to see the cigarette burn scars on his face
Your mother told him he could always come to your house if he needed to
4/10 because he almost gave a baby brain damage 
ZENIN NAOYA
Told your parents about your sex life
Called your mother “woman”
Your cousins have a crush on him solely based on his looks
He thinks he has a harem now
0/10 they are all like 13 years old
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suhsweet · 6 months ago
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perv!mingyu ⟡ kmg
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wc: 731 | pair: perv!mingyu x afab!reader | genre: roommates au, 18+ (minors go away) | tags: mingyu is PERVERTED, panty stealing, dirty thoughts, mingyu spies on the reader
summary: when your roommate mingyu is a filthy, dirty pervert obsessed with you
authors note: maybe i'm a freak, but i literally thought that mingyu uploaded a pic of himself sniffing either socks or underwear. this is a really short drabble. wrote this in an hour. i might write more about perv!mingyu :) i told y'all that this blog is really self-indulgent...
Mingyu can’t remember exactly when his obsession with you began. One day, you were his roommate. The next, you were the star of all his fantasies. He’s had plenty of roommates before you, but you were different.
Maybe it's the fact that he knows what you sound like when you’re touching yourself. He knows you only do it when you’re the only one at home, where you can freely vocalize your pleasure without being embarrassed by anyone listening in. Except, that is exactly what Mingyu does.
If he tells you that he’ll be back from the gym by eight pm, he’s actually home at 7 and listening to you use your fingers to pleasure yourself. He tells you that he’s going to be at work until six, and comes home at five-fifty to hear the tail end of your orgasm.
Most of Mingyu’s nights are spent leaning against the wall your rooms share, pathetically fisting his swollen cock in his palms. His head would be pressed against the wall, his ears straining to find your moans. If he’s bold enough, he’s right outside your door with his dick out, where it’s significantly easier to hear you.
Right after you cum, he loudly opens and closes the front door to the apartment, hollering, “I’m home!”
He listens to you stumble around your room before you peek your head out. With your hair a mess, and eyes wide, Mingyu finds your flustered state so cute. He prevents a smug smirk from appearing when you innocently ask him how his day was.
He’s well aware that it would take only three strides of his long legs to reach your room. He’s also certain you didn’t have enough time to wipe your fingers clean of your essence. The idea that while you’re smiling innocently at him, behind the door your fingers are coated in your cum drives him insane. It takes everything in him not to burst into your room, take your hand in his, lick your fingers clean, and then make another mess of your pussy.
Mingyu’s perverted habits have been ongoing for several months. Mingyu was too far gone to feel any sense of guilt at this point. Not when you didn’t have to know. Not when he stole a pair of your panties from your laundry hamper while you were out with your friends.
He tries to use it sparingly to preserve your scent. He pulls it out on the occasions where he is so horny that his imagination cannot satiate his needs. It’s erotic, Mingyu thinks, that he’s using your panties while jerking himself off without your knowing.
He’s flat on his back, in the centre of his bed with the sheets pushed to his ankles. His room is plunged into darkness aside from the bedside lamp that illuminates his filthy act of perversion with a warm glow. He has his eyes closed whilst imagining the sight of you seated on his lips. He imagines his nose is buried in your delicious pussy, not the fabric of your underwear. His free hand grips his cock fiercely.
His mind presents him the image of you gripping his dark locks, your hips rotating as you grind into his mouth. His tongue is expertly drawing circles around your clit, the pressure of it so perfect that he brings to you an orgasm that is so shattering that you threaten to fall off of him. His arms would lock around your thighs like a vice. His eyes would look up at you, telling you everything that his occupied mouth can’t. His puppy eyes would be imploring, begging for more. His gaze would track your every movement, every rise and fall of your chest, every ‘o’ your mouth forms, every time your eyes clench shut when he sucks on your pussy.
And when you’re finished with his mouth, you’d come off of him, and clean up the mess you made by licking your release off of his lips. You two would make out as a result, messy and slick with saliva and cum.
While his imagination goes wild thanks to your used panties, Mingyu struggles to keep in the pitiful whine that threatens to leave his throat. He doesn’t want to wake you up. You’re obliviously sleeping on the other side of the wall, unaware that your pervert roommate is thinking such depraved thoughts about you.
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wonryllis · 7 months ago
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★ ENHYPEN WHEN THEIR S/O DOES A MATURE DANCE COVER.
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. . ──𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗉𝗈𝗉 𝗈𝗎𝗍.
﹙ 𝒘𝐞𝐛 ⭑ 𝒅𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝓁𝓈. ﹚ enhypen hooked on the way you move. fem!r. fluff, tad bit suggestive. wordcount` 1427. requested. アーカイブ ARCHIVE?
PLS REBLOG!!!!
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𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆
heeseung's on his phone, scrolling through tik tok trends when you walk out of the room all dressed like you're about to go out to the gym. high waist yoga pants and a crop top to match. heeseung so loves it when you wear them, they hug your curves just right and he can caress your tummy when he goes in for a hug.
"are you going to the—" his words die down in an instant as you set up your phone camera and ring light. she's filming something!, he thinks all excited to see which trend you decided to do. and it's all innocent with a little bit of sus moves here and there until there's a switch in the song and you get down to the floor for it. heeseung contemplates whether he should record it or he should just focus on taking the view all in.
though ultimately it's over before he even realizes it, so focused he didn't notice you're already done. immediately rushing to backhug you, unaware the camera's still recordeding and it's captured the sweet little moment where he nuzzles his head into your neck and mumbles out a soft,"why are you so hot?" in butterfly kisses that the viewers can't get enough of once you upload the video.
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆
it's just a normal day for jay. looking through the files on your computer to find your vacation videos from last year, the reason.. it's a secret. a little surprise he's preparing for your birthday. however this certain file with the familiar song name and you on the thumbnail in a rather compromising position gives him the surprise of his day.
can he see it? was he supposed to see it? is he allowed to? is he prepared to? oh man jay has no idea but what he knows for sure is, he is seeing it. and oh boy is he seeing it. the amount of times he replays it, he has lost count of it. each time finding a new move he thinks is way too hot. and wondering of where and how you learnt it and why the hell hasn't he been told about it already?
"jay babe, i'm back!" the moment he hears you walk through the door he's bombarding you with questions, the thought of his own surprise slipping out somewhere in the gutter. "do it again for me, please?" he begs, so wanting to see it real time and find out just much hotter you can be.
𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍
if he's actually seeing it right or he's dreaming, jake doesn't know it but for sure he knows he's drooling. mouth slack open with occasional lip bites when you move your hips just the way he likes it. and he didn't know how much he liked it until he saw it today, and to be more precise until ten minutes ago.
he's in awe, like oh my god that is my girl? and then a few seconds later, only my girl can do it so well! and then a few seconds later, oh god how can my girl be so perfect? like he's literally so geniune and so in love, anything you do he's lovestruck. he's babbling in his mind the entire time he's watching you practice.
"shit princess, you looked so amazing," jake walks over to you in quick steps the moment he notices you taking a break. telling you about how you rocked certain moves and how he loved the way you moved your body to the music and how he was mesmerized to the point of being tongue-tied. so many over the top compliments but the way his eyes sparkled gave away just how sincere he was, he was fascinated both at how good and how hot you were.
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍
for sunghoon putting things away around the kitchen and pantry was the second best part about grocery shopping with you. so obviously he was crest fallen when you left him alone in the middle of it. wondering about what was so important for you to do that to him.
however you return in a few minutes and he forgets all about his sadness the moment you drag him to the couch to show him a little something you specially prepared for him. oh! for me? hehe, the grin on his face is wider than anything and everything watching you dance, eyes zeroing in on the way you move for him. for him, the most important part.
it's all well until you get down on your knees for a certain part and sunghoon feels all his senses kicking in as he immediately shoots up to pick you like a doll and get you into the bedroom,"my god baby! you can't just do that with the curtains open?!" so panicked over the fact that someone would see what's only for him to see. and wondering where you learnt all that from.
𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐖𝐎𝐎
you better believe he finds it first and then begs you to learn it, even going as far as learning it first and then teaching it to you himself. holding and caressing and taking advantage of the situation to feel you up. he's elated that you agreed to learn it and over the moon that you decided to learn it from him.
"mhm yes love go! that's right! love the way you move there!" he records it for you without even you having to ask him. and he's posting it the next day because like there's no way you do it so well and people don't know about it. sunoo is so happy to have you dance to it just how it makes it look fantastic and perfect.
"babe, everyone's loving it! too bad you're only mine," and he's so happy to share with everyone just how amazing you are. there are certain comments that make him regret it a tad bit though, thinking of gatekeeping all future videos like these.
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍
"baby baby baby, help me film this!" your cute little pouts melt jungwon and he folds without even asking of what you want him to help film. helping you is jungwon's favorite thing in the world, and no matter how many times he scolds you for pranking him with the said excuse, he just gives in when you give him the puppy eyes.
with your outfit and your makeup, just how pretty you're dolled up, jungwon knows it's not gonna be a prank and for that he heaves a sigh of relief. but it's not long before his stress comes back, hands immediately throwing away the phone to the couch when you get on the floor and start with that certain hip move that tingle his heart rates.
"babyy! w- what, you can't do that, no! i ain't letting you post that!" he scolds, all flustered when you whine at him for stopping. it takes a great deal of convincing to persuade him to continue recording and the condition is that you'll keep it in your drafts forever. him being the only one who knows of it.
𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈
he has no idea how much he needed you to ask him to correct your moves until you do it. if there's a phrase that could describe how he feels right now, it would be in the clouds. the moment you come up to him and tell him to watch you and correct you if you do it wrong, it's the start of an episode riki will remember for forever.
"no baby, you do it this way," he touches your arms, legs, hands, thighs, neck, shoulder, and everywhere to put you in the correct form. having you go over it again and again, and you don't question it because he's experienced and he knows best, right?
"do it again," intentionally telling you to repeat any move he liked too much just to see you doing it repeatedly to fulfill his own desire. it's not like you'll know anyway and it's only gonna help you get better. that's what he keeps saying to himself. knowing it's not entirely true with how his eyes look at you. and how his hands stay on you a little longer than necessary.
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taglist ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @brachives @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly @eeunoia @nxzz-skz @shawnyle @potato0579 @enhastolemyheart @belowbun @ro-diaries @aaa-sia @okwonyo @snoopypupp @kissestoenha
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thedisablednaturalist · 1 year ago
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Literally all the shit rich people have turned into luxuries are stuff many disabled people need (or would need to manage their pain but can't afford it)
Comfy ergonomic chairs
Indoor pool/hot tub (therapy bath)
Massages on the regular
Aides (rich people call them servants)
Yea even a cook who makes you special meals (perfect for people with special dietary needs and for those with severe allergies, as well as people who are in too much pain or are otherwise unable to cook)
Elevators in your house (even small ones just for groceries, my rich aunt has one in her beach house!)
Rich people don't buy these for fun I hope but custom powerchairs are obscenely expensive. It pisses me off when I see another person invent "the wheelchair of the future!" Which then is literally never fucking used because none of us can afford it (and insurance definitely won't pay)
Indoor gyms or even personal exercise equipment. Hard to go out to a gym somewhere else when you're disabled, especially if you are immunocompromised
Outdoor spaces to relax in. It's literally vital for your mental health to at least see the outdoors. I'd rather be bedridden in a sunroom (with retractable blinds) than a shitty apartment with one tiny window.
There's even freaking health retreats these people go to regularly. There's a fibromyalgia retreat in new york where they basically take care of all your needs while trying different treatments and seeing which ones help. Either it's heaven or making money off of scamming desperate people who are able to scrape the money together to go.
Private planes, which I honestly think shouldn't exist, but one that specifically catered to people with disabilities (spaces for wheelchairs/other mobility devices, accessible handicapped airplane bathroom, anxiety reducing tools, trained medical personnel and care team)
Also customized cars, except instead of making gas guzzling racecars to joyride in while everyone else is trying to get to work, cars with electric ramps, lifts, doors, cars customized for someone with limb differences. Those cars where you can roll your wheelchair right up to the wheel. Fuck even self driving cars once they are no longer deathtraps.
Skincare products that are safe for sensitive skin like eczema but also actually work
Nice-looking clothes customized to fit limb differences, access points, look good in wheelchairs, colostomy bags, etc. while also being comfortable and not fast fashion.
Dental care!!! What the fuck why is this shit so expensive!! I don't want my teeth to fall out!! (Disabled people usually need more dental care bc we have a harder time keeping up maintenance)
Rich people go and splurge on all of these even though they don't need them while calling disabled people selfish for begging their insurance for even one of these.
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snowballseal · 3 months ago
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aww i love how u write sylus! you write him so soft and domestic but still so *sylus* if that makes sense hahahsbakdnfb (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡
if ur requests are open can i req one with sylus and a reader who start to slowly crave headpats from him? i feel like he would give the best headpats ngl,, ty in advanced if you do~
Head Pats
Sylus X Reader
Summary: You want head pats from Sylus, but you can't bring yourself to ask him out loud. Safe to say though, Sylus likes granting the desires of your heart.
Word Count: 2050
Note: This was NOT meant to be this long, but the more I wrote, the more I become obsessed with this idea. So yah, I hope you enjoy! Thank you for the adorable request!
Also, consensual aether core usage (by Sylus) (don't know how else to put that lol)
---
There are quite a few things you like about Sylus.
Of course he’s handsome. You would have to be blind to not see that. Admitting it is another thing though, because the man’s ego is already insufferable at times (and you definitely will never admit how attractive that is in and of itself). But every so often, you catch yourself staring at his face, the sharpness of his jaw, the perfect curve of his lips when he smirks, the mesmerizingly morbid color of his eyes. He’s literally gorgeous.
You also love how he takes action. Even if that action is something you disagree with. You’ve come to terms with the different ways you function. You’ll always be tied to the law, the regulations drilled into you while at the Hunter Academy. Yet, whenever Sylus drags you into his schemes, you can’t deny the way your heart races in exhilaration. 
Not to mention, it also means he never stops pursuing you. Being in a relationship with him is like a dance, and all you have to do is follow. Sometimes it’s like you’re spinning so fast you can’t focus on a single thing around you, but you know he’ll never let you fall. And sometimes it’s slow, just the two of you pressed together, sharing the same breath, the same time. 
Though he’s never opposed to you taking the lead for a little while.
You like his mind. His quick wit and sharp tongue. You like riding with him on his motorcycle in the dead of night, far outside the N109 Zone, where it’s easier to see the stars. You even like his god-awful singing voice.
But one of the things you secretly like the most, are his hands. Not in a sexual way, even. You just like how big they are, how, when you compare hands, he can curl the tips of his fingers over yours. The confidence they have when curled around a gun. His callouses from hours training in the gym and work. Their capability to take life when he needs to.
Yet, they make you feel undeniably safe. Comforted when they rub your back whenever you “force” him to cuddle with you. Cherished when he cups your jaw, his touch impossibly gentle despite their ability to cause so much violence.
There’s only one thing he hasn’t done, and the more you think about it, the more you desperately want him to.
Head pats.
It started when you were watching a movie, and the male love interest patted his partner’s head, all the while calling her cute and teasing her. It was like a curse. Your mind immediately conjured an image of the two of you in their place, and you wondered what it would be like to have Sylus gently pat your head while teasing you, and that’s all it took to send you reeling.
At the time, Sylus had asked why you were suddenly so red, but you’d played it off as getting a little warm. Which worked, though he definitely gave you that look, the one that says he doesn’t completely believe you. But you weren’t going to out yourself like that!
It’s ridiculous! Absolutely ridiculous! You almost feel like it would be less embarrassing if it were something inappropriate. This feels somehow weirder. Isn’t it? Maybe it’s not. Maybe you’re just overthinking it all…No, maybe the weird thing is just how fixated your mind is on it. And how it pops up every time you’re near him.
Like today.
You and Sylus are in his kitchen. You’re sitting at the table, watching him as he idles around the counter, preparing dinner. The chef had a family emergency, leaving the two of you to prepare your own meal. Which you were helping with, until Sylus teased you about your knife skills and banned you from the kitchen.
Cutting vegetables is not as easy as cutting up a wanderer. Realistically, you were closer to cutting off the tips of your fingers instead.
So now you’re just watching. Sylus works, efficient and graceful, his brow furrowed ever so slightly in concentration. You cross your arms over the back of the chair, propping your chin on them as your eyes follow his deft movements. He really is good at everything. His hands move as if it’s second nature, handling the knife confidently, without an ounce of hesitation.
They’re always so sure. Unshakable. Just like him. If only-
“If you keep staring at me like that, sweetie, I might have to consider changing occupations.”
You blink, realizing Sylus had caught you, his movements paused in favor of pinning you with an amused look. Heat creeps across your cheeks, turning you a brilliant shade of pink. The corner of his lips curl up.
It, of course, hadn’t escaped him exactly where you were staring. Nor was it the first time he had noticed you staring intently at his hands this week. At first, Sylus thought it was just coincidence. You have the tendency to space out, especially when you’re tired. But then you’d blush adorably and snap your attention somewhere else with that pout on your lips, as if you were thinking about something specific. Something embarrassing.
And Sylus is curious. What could his little hunter be thinking about that could fluster her so badly? It wasn’t like you to get embarrassed, especially with him. So he set his trap. And you’ve wandered right into it.
“It’s almost as if you were thinking of something else,” he hums, waiting for just the right moment.
“I um, no, I just, I like looking at you,” you stumble over your words, sitting up straighter, though your face already feels warmer than the sun. You’ve definitely been caught. “You’re my boyfriend, aren’t you supposed to like it when I look at you?”
His eyes narrow, simmering with an intensity that makes you squirm. You try to hold it, try to keep your gaze steady, but it’s like staring into a fire. The heat is too much for you to take. So you give in, looking at your lap and twisting your fingers in an obvious sign of hesitation.
“Hmm, your lies need work.” The knife makes a soft ‘clink’ as he sets it against the counter. His footsteps are quiet as he walks around the island. You can’t help the way your breath catches when his fingers curl tenderly under your chin, forcing you to look back up at him. Sylus raises a brow, amusement glinting in the depths of his eyes, “You’ll have to be more convincing if you want me to believe you, kitten.”
“I’m not- I’m not lying,” you try again meekly, though you already know you’ve lost the war.
Sylus looks at you for a hard minute and this time, you can’t escape his intense gaze. It’s like he’s trying to unravel you, to strip you down until you’re bare in front of him, so he can read every part of you. And he can. It doesn’t take long for a flicker of recognition to cross his face, and you can feel your heart racing against your ribcage.
A devilish smirk curls his lips.
“You desire something,” he murmurs, voice lilting with curiosity.
You hate how good he is at that. A pout captures your lips, and you wish you could just cover your face. Maybe then this whole conversation would disappear. But you can’t, not with how intently he’s watching you. So you just keep pouting, staying quiet.
Sylus hums, leaning down a little, so his warm breath brushes your lips, “There’s no need to act so embarrassed, kitten. I quite enjoy fulfilling your desires, especially when I’m at the center of them.”
Oh, you wish you could smack and kiss him at the same time right now. How can one man be so insufferable and so absolutely perfect all at once? You wish you could just come out and say it, you know he wouldn’t think anything of it, and then your morbid curiosity would be sated.
But there’s something about the way he’s looking at you, the way your heart is racing, the way you can’t. stop. thinking. about his stupid hands, that makes the words lock themselves behind your teeth.
“I just can’t…say it,” you waver.
The air goes quiet for another moment. And then-
“I won’t force you.” Of course. Sylus’ expression softens a fraction, the teasing glint replaced by a serious line between his brows. Because while he enjoys pushing you, seeing how flustered you turn, he’s never one to take it too far. Not with you. “I suppose I can allow you to keep a few secrets, as you’ve so generously allowed me to keep mine.”
You both know it’s a farce of an excuse. Sylus still has his secrets because he’s much better at keeping them. He’s a mystery you don’t think you’ll ever be able to unravel. This is his way of giving you an easy out. 
He won’t push this if you really don’t want him to.
And that’s why you want to tell him.
When he slowly starts to pull away, taking your continued silence as confirmation, you reach out, fingers curling around his wrist. Sylus stills. He looks down at your small hand before quirking a brow at you.
You take a deep breath, seizing back some courage, “I just don't want to say it out loud. But if, if you want to find out using other methods, that’d be fine.”
Now both brows shoot up. Intrigue. You shift nervously, but keep your chin high, looking at him expectantly. Sylus’ lips flicker back into a smirk.
“Well, since you’ve given me permission…”
You nod. Sylus’ gaze focuses back on you, not that it ever left, his expression settling back into something serious. His right eye starts to glow softly, and it’s all you can look at. This time it’s not so scary, not so unnerving, when you feel the haze creep across your mind. Maybe it’s gentler because you’re willing, or maybe because your relationship has changed so much, but you almost feel a warmth filling your senses, drawing the answers gently from the depth of your soul and telling him exactly what you’ve been thinking about this past few weeks.
Surprise flickers across Sylus’ face. He stifles a genuine smile, the glow of his eye slowly dimming until they match again.
“All of this, over wanting me to pat your head?”
His voice doesn’t hold any judgment, not that you were truly expecting it to. Still, if you could blush darker, you probably would, despite the relief you feel at finally having it out there.
“I know, it’s silly,” you admit, biting the inside of your cheek, “I don’t know why I couldn’t just say it.”
Sylus shakes his head, “I’ll admit, it wasn’t what I was…expecting, but none of your desires are ‘silly’. Except perhaps your need for enough stuffies to cover our bed.”
“They need a home,” you shoot back immediately, feeling more yourself again.
“Right, right.” Sylus hums. His fingers stroke absentmindedly along your cheek. “How could I forget? It’s out of the goodness in your heart that you spend all my money to bring them home.”
“That’s right,” you huff, “Who better to give them a home than us?”
“Of course. I take it back.” You blink when his hand leaves your face, only to settle gently on your head. You glance up at him, eyes wide. A fuzzy warmth fills your chest when he tenderly fusses your hair, those vermillion eyes glowing with fondness. “I suppose every desire of yours is adorable. So next time-” He leans down, nose touching yours sweetly. “-don’t be so embarrassed to share, sweetie.”
His hand smoothes over your hair one last time before he draws away to go finish dinner. You bite down on your lip, spinning around to collapse against the table, unable to stop the small sound of happiness that escapes you.
Sylus’ laughter fills the room, along with the sound of more cutting.
It seems he has another tool to use to his advantage for showing you his love. He’ll have to make good use of it, if the way you kick your feet through the entirety of dinner tells him anything.
---
This request hit waaaaaaay to close to home for me. Love me some head pats. And I COMPLETELY agree that Sylus would give the best head pats.
Thanks for reading!
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a-pute11as · 1 month ago
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caught - alexia putellas
first time doing this so it's a short one. r gets caught staring at alexia in the gym. based on this godly picture.
words - 727
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“you’re staring at her again” cata rolled her eyes at my behaviour. we were in the middle of a gym session and i was meant to be spotting her as she did a chest press. meant. yet my focus was much further away than making sure cata didn’t drop a heavy set of weights on her. 
i watched as one of her arms extended upwards and the other lay across her stomach. her muscles prominently pressing against her training top as she continued her set. i watched as her face tensed after every movement, with small grunts leaving her lips as she continued. the way her veins popped out across her hands, highlighting her perfect hands whilst drawing attention to her toned arms. 
“i’m not staring” i said, shaking my head as i looked over at cata, tearing my eyes away from the sight clearly sent from heaven. 
“you’re literally drooling” she laughed whilst continuing the exercise i should’ve been paying attention too. 
i quickly ran my hand across my mouth, making sure she was joking.
“not funny, i don’t drool” i said rolling my eyes as we switched positions for me to begin doing the required exercises. 
“hm, you do when you sleep” she said, shaking her head at my dismissal. 
“one time catalina! that was one time!” i defended, raising my voice whilst trying not to gain too much attention. 
i finished my set before switching with cata again. i stood up again, my eyes instantly traveling to alexia. i knew i shouldn’t but couldn’t stop myself, not with the way her sweat glistened in the fluorescent lights. 
and then her eyes met mine. my cheeks instantly flashed a bright red colour as she looked at me with a raised eyebrow and a smug smirk. she knew exactly what i was doing, and i wasn’t going to hear the end of it. 
i quickly looked away as i diverted my attention back to cata, “i have a problem” i said, fanning myself with my hand to give me some kind of relief from the heat that was spreading across my body. 
“don’t i know it, it’s like your eyes are permanently glued to her” she said, finishing her set and standing up to join me. 
“no, i’m being serious, ale caught me staring at her, like really caught me, like she looked me dead in the eyes” i whispered, rubbing my hand against my temple. 
she was instantly hunched over laughing, and not quietly, meaning suddenly a lot of eyes were on us. 
“catalina thomas coll lluch, shut the fuck up” i aggressively whispered punching her arm in hopes she’d stop. 
the laughing continued as my face began to develop an even deeper shade of red. 
“i can’t believe she caught you” she managed to get out in between her ridiculously loud laughter. 
i covered both my hands with my face in hopes the embarrassment would disappear. 
“who caught you?” a thick catalan accent appeared behind me, an accent that i knew incredibly well, an accent belonging to the person who just caused me to go as red as possible. 
my hands instantly dropped to my side as i spun round to meet her face.
“no one, she’s just talking about a show we were watching” i explained, lies spilling out of my mouth to somehow hide the embarrassment i was feeling, “she clearly finds it very funny, when it definitely isn’t” i added, giving cata the straightest expression i possibly could. 
“well, if you two are done, could you come spot me?” alexia said, directly a seemingly innocent smile appearing on her face, yet i knew that was a cover for a very cocky grin. i couldn’t believe she was doing this on purpose at this point. 
“oh of course! we just finished” cata said, her laughter instantly disappearing whilst being replaced with an exaggerated smile, as she pushed me closer to alexia by my shoulder. 
“thank you cata, i’ll go easy with her” alexia winked at cata, as she began walking over to her next piece of equipment. 
before joining her i quickly shot cata a strong glare, “i hate you, so so so much” i whispered. 
“try not to stare” i heard her snigger back, which caused me to simply raise my middle finger at her causing the laughing fit to reappear. 
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dclovesdanny · 10 months ago
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Something I will never get enough of is Danny killing the Joker. However, something I want to see more of, is Danny killing the Joker for Ellie.
Like, Jason and Danny are neighbors and they’ve been friends for a little while. Jason knows Danny has the 20 something year old mechanic with a six-year-old daughter who is an absolute gremlin. He really likes them both, and he might have a little crush on his neighbor.
Then when they are out at the park or something, the Joker attacks. The joker decides to grab a hostage and who does he grab, but this six year old girl who only seems to have one person who knows her, a scrawny 20 something person. She has dark hair and blue eyes and only person who seems to care about her is her older brother/possible father? Perfect bait for Batman.
He wasn’t counting on Danny being able to fight god for his family. He didn’t realize that Danny will do anything to protect his family, that, in his literal core, he is sworn to protect his people, no matter the cost. the joker did not realize that Danny loves Ellie enough to not only die (again) for her, but to kill for her.
The Joker doesn’t die to Batman, or in some big battle. The Joker dies to a man no one knew because the Joker kidnapped his daughter. The joker dies, because he forgot that not everyone has the same hangups about killing that Batman does. The Joker dies because he pushed a parent too far.
Jason is there during all of this. I think he’s either there as red hood, watching through the cameras, or there is Jason. All three of these have many different pros for various forms of angst.
If Jason is there as red hood, he’s probably with some of the batfamily, and they are holding him back from killing the Joker. They’re trying to figure out how to make it so that the joker won’t kill this little girl, and Jason is going feral because that is his kid. That is the little gremlin who lives next-door, who knocks on his door and treats him like a jungle gym. That’s his kid. When he sees Danny jump at the Joker, he’s going to have a straight up panic attack and he’s gonna get the guns ready, but he doesn’t need to.
If he’s there as Jason, I think the joker would also take him hostage. Jason Wayne, the brat who would get him a lot of money. Especially if the Joker knows that this was the second Robin, because this just means he can get two killed in one swoop. And Jason is trying to protect Ellie with everything in him, cursing himself for not bringing a gun with him and praying that this time Bruce isn’t too late. And he can see the pain in Danny’s eyes and he is so scared to lose this family he has. He praised to a God he doesn’t believe in this time, history won’t repeat itself.
I feel like it would be most painful, if he’s watching through cameras. He’s probably injured or in the middle of doing something for his civilian life . Maybe he’s even out of town, but turned the camera on to look out for the joker, and had a heart attack when he saw the little girl next-door being held by the Joker. This man is trying so hard to get there, breaking every traffic law, praying that he won’t be too late that this won’t be the same as his death. His trauma is excruciating, because this feels like when he was waiting for Bruce and Bruce not getting there until it was too late.
No matter which of these scenarios, he needs to see Danny snap and kill the joker. Maybe, in the camera scenario, it’s just this he arrives that he sees it. Either way, he needs to see the moment, the Joker dies at the head of a single father, and the parallel of Bruce and him and Danny and Ellie need to be very apparent. Because this time the dad wasn’t afraid to kill.
This is the moment I feel, Jason would fully acknowledge that he would do anything for these people. That these two neighbors of his have become his family. The moment he sees the two of them holding each other, and the jokers body at their feet, I guarantee you this man is fighting tooth and nail not to go over his red hood exposed them. if he’s Jason, he can run into hug them no problem, but if he’s red hood, he’s not going to be able to do that.
This man will fight with Batman if he even that should get in trouble for killing the Joker. He will threaten to never ever speak to Bruce ever again, will be ready to bribe the police into letting Danny go, we will race every camera footage out there of the event, will do anything for this family.
Later that day, he won’t have nightmares of the Joker for the first time in a while. He will be able to look at his family and rest easy, knowing that there’s no way that Joker can take them from him.
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blkkizzat · 1 year ago
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ღ 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞!𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 ღ
𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏 𝐨𝐟 𝟐
18+ONLY MDNI
kizzatober series: Smooth Criminals
Kinktober Prompts: Clothed Male/Naked Female, Thigh Riding, Knife Play Synopsis: The university campus is being terrorized by a copycat Ghostface killer. As a popular sorority girl with a dumb jock bf, you are a prime choice to be his next victim especially given how he can't stop thinking about you. But you're no ordinary Sorority Girl bimbo, now are you? CW: AU college fic. blood obsession/hematolagnia, bimbo reader, murder, slight DV (from your npc jerk ass bf), unprotected sex, masturbation, slight age gap (roughly 21 vs 28) and dark content. NOTE: If death/killer romanticization related shit triggers you this is probably a fic to avoid because that is happening all through this bitch. I literally wrote a murder fluff smut fic lmfao. WC: 6.5k of 15.4k Lightly black fem coded (reader is an AKA lmfao) but no descriptors.
A/N: This is my first kinktober fic! I'm sorry this took so long y'all but last week been low key hell and I was sick for a lot of it. Also I did struggle with this a bit since this one I decided to do as an whole fic instead of PWP and now its gotten to be so long its definitely going to be in two parts. Sorry there's no smut in the first part, but there is some fluff and some juicy build up. I've never written for Choso before but he's so baby girl omg I'm obsessed with him now but still I'm a bit nervous posting this. sorry if its dog.
Enjoy!
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“Ever felt a knife rip through human flesh and scrape the bone beneath?”
Those were the last words a nameless student heard before Ghostface's hunting knife shined menacingly in the air and came down to claim its newest victim.
Shluk! Shluk! Shluk!
Metal slashed through flesh with razor precision.
Gurgled death cries are silenced as the lifeless body collapses to the ground. 
A thick pool of blood began gathering around them to fan out and travel around their body down the slanted titled floor to drain. 
Choso breathed in deeply. 
A wave of calm washed over him. 
Peace. 
Almost in an enlightened state, he felt the most serene after a kill. 
It was beautiful. 
Blood was beautiful.
The surging stream of blood that would eventually slow to a trickle, the abstract designs of its splatter and the way it swirled around the body splayed across the ground like paint on a canvas.
Like a painting. 
A death painting… and the knife, his paintbrush. 
This was his art.
Choso can recall the first time he actually saw blood beyond a minor scrape. 
He couldn’t have been more than 6 years old. No doubt trying to impress his younger brother Yuji by balancing on top of the monkey bars. After all this time Choso isn’t certain as to how, but he lost his footing and fell flat on his face onto the unforgiving concrete below.
Screams of children filled the area once Choso pushed himself up onto his feet. He immediately felt wetness rush down his face. However, rather than cry or panic a young Choso cocked his head curiously when he noticed his reflection on the metal jungle gym. A warped view of his face mirrored back at him but he could still make out the bright red fluid cascading down his features staining him in red. 
Choso didn’t know how long he stood transfixed, mesmerized by the sight of rouge river that flowed from him until Yuji ran back crying with their parents in tow. 
It was how he had the scar across the bridge of his nose till this day, which became unsightly enough he had decided to get a black bar tattooed over it as soon as he turned 18. 
From then on he couldn’t deny his growing obsession with blood and seeing it leave the human body. All of which had led him here to this university to attain a PHD in Forensics. 
He picked this university, not only for their program but it was the perfect small town playground for Ghostface, a local urban legend from years ago he decided to revive once he felt as he had attained enough knowledge not to get caught.  
Choso was meticulous in his process. 
Ironclad alibis, no distinctive patterns and no victims with any connections to each other, nor him. Additionally, he had memorized all the angles of the university’s security system (thanks to a security guard he had bribed then promptly killed). 
His victims' lives were just his means to an end for his art and most students on this campus wouldn’t amount to much anyway outside of that was how he justified it. Choso did like toying with them on occasion though, fear made the blood pump faster and spray harder once he finally did catch them. 
Sadly, he could never admire his creations for too long though before needing to make his own exit. 
Almost midnight. 
Ten more minutes before campus security makes another round.
He took one last glance at the scene of carnage he had created before disappearing into the night. 
In just a mere 2 hours, the news of another Ghostface murder spread across campus. 
The university’s students were either scared, scattering back to barricade themselves in their dorms. Or curious, lingering around the crime scene near the safety of the news crews and reporters who had gathered to see who the unlucky victim was this time.
No one however, is likely more curious than you: A third year forensics undergrad, who was just itching to get a real glimpse of your first real crime scene, a Ghostface copycat killer crime scene at that! 
You had even left a huge frat party (to be fair it was about to get broken up soon anyway) to trek across campus in the bitter cold of late fall. 
“Y/N, let’s go back–,” one of your pledges whined, “–it’s cold and my feet hurt in these heels!”
“Shh, Stassi, shut up! What if this is an initiation test?” another pledge whispered. 
Your sorority pledges chatter on behind you and you almost forgot you brought them along. It’s not like you wanted to but, like it or not, they were attached to you at the hip like little ducklings until rush was over.
With a clap you turn on your heel to address them.
“Ladies–” 
However you abruptly stop once you see your Forensics TA, Choso Kamo, taking what appeared to be a night jog across the campus quad. 
Was he going to the crime scene too? Your face instantly lights up and your pledges look around confused.
“Wait here girlies! I’ll be 5 minutes max…. No, I mean it. Wait right here!”    
Your pledges huff quietly, but agree. 
They had no choice really as you were already skipping as fast as your not-so-sober legs would carry you in 5-inch pumps over the quad lawn. Truthfully, that was not something they were trying to do too, especially not to chase down what looked like some creepy emo nerd.
“Choso!”
You call out to him and wave, but he doesn’t look like he sees you as you hurry towards him.
“Hey Choooo! Wait up!”  You puffed out, trying to maneuver over the grass in your heels. 
Choso sighed recognizing your voice, reluctantly slowing his pace. He would have kept on jogging but he knew you would keep calling out to him and draw even more attention that he really didn’t need right now.
Finally catching up to him, you grab Choso’s arm and loop yours through. He flinched slightly at your touch but you knew he always seemed a bit jumpy when it came to physical contact, so this didn’t phase you. 
If anything you thought his reactions were kinda cute.
“Where are you going weirdo? All the action is back that way!” You teased with a big grin and pointed in the direction of the crime scene.
Choso tries to ignore how his adrenaline was pumping even faster from you holding on to him than when he was running, especially dressed as you were. 
You looked sexy as hell utterly ridiculous.
You were decked out in a sailor costume, which was pretty much just a poor excuse for lingerie at this point. Your white sailor flap collar attached to nothing more than a sparkly navy bra with shiney white and red trims, leaving your midsection exposed showing your cute little belly ring in the shape of an anchor. 
This was complemented by a dangerously short yet matching sparkling navy pleated skirt which sat low on your thick hips. Your shapely legs were the most covered part of your body yet still looked overwhelmingly tempting in red glittery garters, attached to white opaque stockings in glittery red heels.
“I’m the weirdo… but you’re dressed like that in 40 degree weather.” Choso retorted, brow raised.
“Duh Choso–” 
You released his arm to give him a twirl in your outfit, not noticing the way he nervously wet his lips watching your skirt rise with your little spin.
“–The ‘Get Nauti’ party was tonight silly, where have you been!?”
Oh you know, just casually killing someone. Choso resisted the urge to roll his eyes. 
Of course he knew about the party. 
The campus had been littered with fliers for ‘Get Nauti’ for the past two weeks. Nothing Choso would ever be interested in as he would rather stab himself in the face than attend a mind-numbing party with a bunch of bro-for-brain frat guys. 
However, he did take advantage of the opportunity to create another death painting as Ghostface with the rest of campus preoccupied. 
He couldn’t tell you that though obviously.
“Gym,” Choso said flatly and shrugged, “Heading back to the dorms n-”
“–You mean you aren't going to the Social Sciences building!? Don’t you remember?!” You cut him off in your excitement. 
“The police said they would let us forensic students look at the next crime scene!”
Your face had a warm glow and your movements slightly swayed. You were clearly drunk.
“No Y/N, they said they might let the PhD students, like me, look at the crime scene… and that was only a slim ‘maybe’. You’re still just an undergrad”, he reminded you, much to your dismay as you puffed your cheeks.
But seriously, Choso thought, even the incompetent local police would have enough sense not to let you on the crime scene dressed as you are now, even if you were a PhD student. 
“Awe no fair,” you whine dejectedly. “But you should go, Cho! Then you can tell me all about it! Pleaseeee, I’m dying to know what a Ghostface crime scene looks like. I hear it’s kinda gruesome!”
You gazed up at Choso through fluttering long lashes as you poked out your cherry glossed lips. It was a pout that could famously leave any frat boy at your mercy, but it never seemed to stir Choso much (that you could tell at least).
Choso swallowed. 
On the contrary, your charms worked rather well on him. His mouth was dry and he unconsciously clenched and unclenched a sweat ridden palm behind his back. 
The hell were you doing being this excited over a crime scene? One of his crime scenes for that matter? 
Choso really didn’t know what to make of that.
“Y/N it’s late. I still have papers to grade. I’m going back to my dorm now and you should get home too,” Choso said flatly, trying to keep his cool although fatigue was etched into his voice.
He was in peak physical form but still feeling the strain given he just chased his last victim all over the Social Sciences building. Not to mention still having assignments to grade. All which would be fine if he also wasn’t on edge from you right now as well.
“Booooo…Choso yo– ahchoo!” You sneezed from the cold. 
The effects of alcohol could only do so much to keep you warm in these low temperatures while you were standing still. 
With another sigh Choso unzipped his black track jacket, taking it off and putting it around your shoulders. 
He was doing so as much for your sake as his own. Choso couldn’t help but notice your boobs looking like they were going to pop out of your flimsy sailor bra at any moment when you folded your arms underneath them for warmth.
He was really doing his best to maintain eye contact with you.
“Awe thanks Cho, you’re so chivalrous!” You giggled, blushing as you snuggled into his jacket. 
You could still feel his body heat lingering on the material but the heady scent of oak and sandwood from his cologne warmed you even more.
You also couldn’t help but stare as the black compression turtleneck he wore underneath clung to his body like a second skin. You had suspicions he was fit but you never saw him wear anything beyond his dark colored button ups and shaggy sweaters when in class. 
“Now go home, Y/N. You shouldn’t even be out here alone this late.” 
Choso’s stern voice snapped you out of your ogling.
“But I’m not alone silly!” 
You pointed to the group of scared and shivering freshmen girls also in various states of sparkly undress all for the sake of ‘getting nauti’ standing on a paved path not too far off. 
They looked absolutely miserable. 
“I have my pledges!” 
Choso gave you an incredulous look. You were too clueless. 
“So let me get this straight… You are drunk. You have drunk freshmen with you, who shouldn’t even be drinking in the first place…and you plan on taking them to a murder scene? Where the cops are?” You made an “OH” face and absentmindedly laughed as you came to the realization it probably wasn’t the best look for Chapter VP of the AKAs to take a bunch of drunk and terrified freshmen pledges straight into a recent crime scene. Even if you could put an academic spin on it as it was relevant to your major classes.
Yikes, and on second thought, your house mom would flip her entire shit if she found out.
“Go home Y/N,” Choso said again, shaking his head.
“Besides, you should be more focused on the Chemistry lab midterm on Monday. You know you can’t afford to fail.”
You sulked but relented, he was right. On both accounts.
As your T.A. for that class Choso knew better than anyone just how much your grade depended on passing that lab and you hadn’t even so much as glanced at your notes yet this week.
“Aye Aye, Capitan Choso, sir!” you teased giving him a salute with a wink and lifted knee, your sailor skirt lifting a bit higher.
It was a cute move, or it would have been at least if it hadn't caused your weight to shift all on to one foot. The heel of the sparkly red glitter pump baring your weight sunk into the patch of soft soil beneath you causing your foot to pop out of the shoe as you tumble forward. 
You would have definitely ate shit and embarrassed yourself in front of Choso, your pledges and whoever else was walking across the quad at this time of night if Choso’s quick reflexes didn’t catch you. 
You let out a squeak and waved your arms as you fell tits first onto Choso’s hard chest. 
Shit. 
Choso could feel your hardened nipples pressing against him through the flimsyass costume you wore. He tried hard to focus on how cold it was outside. Anything rather than how warm your body felt up against him or how his biceps tensed from the tight grip of your delicate fingers that sought stability from him.
You grinned sheepishly. You thanked him for catching you not realizing the position you were in nor the torment you were putting this man through.
Setting you upright quickly, Choso crouched down to retrieve your shoe. 
His plan was to simply place it near your foot but he felt your hand land on his shoulder and you raised your dainty foot up expectantly.
Any attempts to avert his gaze proved futile as Choso couldn’t stop his eyes from traveling up the length of your leg. 
Your opaque white stockings practically glowed in the darkness illuminating the shapely calves it covered and thick thighs the tight material cut into. Your hips strained against your garters up until your –he caught himself and his eyes snapped up immediately.
He was a killer, not a perv at least he was trying not to be.
Gingerly making sure to only touch your ankle, you were giggling again as he put your shoe on your foot and placed it on the grass again.
“Thanks Choso! You really are a lifesaver, ya know! I can’t bend down in this skirt.”
“Don’t mention it.” Choso quickly replied, pushing his bangs out of his face in exasperation. 
Really don’t. 
Choso was trying to forget the flash of red lace he saw that barely covered your plump pu– No he had to stop, you were technically his student even if he was just a T.A.
He would surely have to kill you if he popped a boner right now. He was trying to keep a low profile already and did not need to add ‘sexual deviant' to his name from a student harassment claim.
“For real now, go home Y/N.” Choso silently pleaded you would just listen this time. 
He always felt more compulsive right after a kill and didn’t know what he would do if you stayed around him like this much longer.
You finally relented to his relief, nodding and mumbling a sad little goodnight pulling his jacket around your shoulders tighter as you turned to leave back to your pledges. 
Choso started to leave as well but your voice stopped him as you looked at him over your shoulder.
“You know Choso…” You smoothed your skirt down behind you and flashed him a pageant winning smile, “I don’t mind that you saw them.”
Before Choso’s short-circuiting brain could even process what you said you were bouncing off back to your pledges. “Okay ladies, now make like Bey and get in formation! Back to the Soro house!” 
Your pledges erupted with various replies from– 
‘Thank God!’’ 
‘Did you just go over there to steal that nerd’s jacket? Boss!’’
‘Was that your boyfriend, Y/N?’
‘Y/N’s bf is a starter on the football team, she doesn’t want that weird emo dork.’
‘No, sis did you see his muscles– That emo look is still kinda hot right now, huh Y/N?’ 
‘Awe, but I want to go back to the frat!’ 
–all fluttered from the group of chattering girls as you cheerily led them back to the Sorority house. 
You laughed at their comments hoping Choso couldn’t hear them though, as they were a bit embarrassing. 
Unfortunately for the both of you, there was no way for Choso not to hear your rowdy group of drunk giggling girls, he’s sure the whole quad did. 
Choso rolled his eyes as a chill took over him as he started the jog back to his dorms. 
He was glad he had given you his jacket though. The way his body had started to respond to you just now the frigid jog back to the dorms would do him good. 
He just wanted to shower, grade a few papers then go to bed, he didn’t want to end up fisting his cock to you again tonight. 
You had plagued his peace for too long. It wouldn’t do him any good to think of you, it’s not like he could ever have you. 
Sure you went to the same university but you might as well have been from two different worlds. 
You were a popular sorority undergrad with the attention of virtually the entire male population on campus. 
Choso was a PhD student who was used to fading in the background, most avoided him due his looks and academic focus anyway. 
He only had an affiliation with you because his scholarships were tied to being a T.A. for undergrad forensics classes. 
Also you did have a boyfriend. 
An asshole neanderthal football-wide-receiver boyfriend who he would have been tempted to kill already had he not served his own purpose as a reality check and barrier for Choso.
Oh and had an eccentric obsession with blood going for him and was also the Ghostface copycat killer, that too. 
He was sure that would go over well with you, Choso mused sarcastically.
Upon returning to his dorm Choso took a shower, graded papers and tried to fall asleep but inevitably jerked his cock off to you.
Twice. 
The sounds and images of your ditzy little laugh and skippy little panties consumed him as soon as he closed his eyes. The phantom feeling of the way your nipples felt pressed against his chest and how you clung to him desperately had him feeling near insatiable. 
Choso admittedly thinks of killing you often. Just to get some peace of mind.
It wouldn’t be difficult at all to pull off. It’s not like you could put up much of a fight against him.
He didn’t want to break his rule of killing anyone with a connection to him but Choso had also never had anyone stir him the way you did. 
You were a distraction and liability to him. If he killed you he could finally stop thinking about you…right?
You would make a beautiful death painting too.
Choso imagines thick red blood splattered across your curves. 
The fatal gash from the femoral artery in your thigh oozing out a continuous stream of blood. The cut would have to be considerably deep too considering how meaty your thighs were. 
Would the blood streak down your long leg as you desperately tried to hobble away from him in your slutty red heels?
Or would you collapse in fear and surrender to him fully? Landing in such a way that allowed the blood to redirect backwards and soil the flimsy red panties poorly concealing the fat of your cunt as you cried out in fear.
Fuck. 
He was hard again. 
He reached over to his night stand for his lotion bottle– practically empty thanks to his nonstop fantasies of you.
God, he was pathetic.
The school week that followed was relatively uneventful. 
You passed your lab midterms much to Choso’s surprise. Although you always seemed to pass with a relatively decent grade despite how you struggled to get there. Holding firm to your B average in the class and 3.3 GPA in your major overall.
He had to admit you were a better student than he originally gave you credit for. It makes him recall when he first saw you last spring. 
You were a late enroll to Forensic Biology 101. Not only that, you burst into the third class of the semester nearly 15 minutes late.
Oblivious to all the eyes your disruption earned, you leaned on your knees as your chest heaved from exertion giving the entire class an amazing view of your tits spilling from your pink crop top adorned with the prestigious “AKA” sorority. 
You definitely would have given the class an additional show from bending over in your tight green jean skirt had your ass not been facing the door. Choso eyes couldn't help but travel down the length of your legs, your glossy white painted toes peeking out strappy pink pumps. 
You smiled brightly once you caught your breath and apologized for your late entrance but you were newly voted chapter vice president and had just come from your first meeting. 
Surely you had the wrong classroom.
“Er– this class is Forensic Biology 101 young lady.” The older male professor had given you a once over also thinking you must be lost.
“Mhm, yup! I’m Y/N! I just changed my major!” you beamed and handed the professor your schedule.
He looked at it and back at you twice.
“Hm, well so it is…but you are already behind, little lady. Go and take a seat next to the T.A. in the back, Choso Kamo, he will catch you up.”
Just his luck. Choso didn’t want to babysit some sorority bimbo who would probably drop this class in two weeks once the labs started. 
Your university was famous for the forensics program. If you graduated you were all but guaranteed a job at a prominent lab in a major city but more than two thirds of undergrad students dropped it once the rigorous labs began. 
You didn’t look like you would last.
Especially when you told him your interest in forensics came from watching Dexter. You told him how you thought the actor was hott and how his kill rooms were ‘so cool.’ Choso definitely rolled his eyes at that and wrote you off as a soon-to-be drop out.
You proved him wrong though. 
You were a bit of a ditz and a huge clutz but Choso came to understand t's more because you had about a billion different things going on in your head at once rather than you just being dumb or careless. 
You were also a hard worker. 
It was admirable how many activities you were involved in yet still tried as hard as you did in your classes. You always came to his T.A. review sessions and even sought him out at times while he was in the research library to ask him questions. 
You were a good student and he was a horrible T.A. for even thinking of you in this way. 
The campus bell tower struck noon in the distance and Choso looked down to see that he had only read a single paragraph since he sat down to study thirty minutes ago.
Fuck, he had lost himself in thinking about you again. 
Choso put a hand over his face. 
He was sitting alone at a picnic table on the outer, less populated edges of the quad trying to read a textbook but every time he heard a high pitched giggle he snapped his head up thinking it was you.
Class schedules were a bit different due to midterms and he hadn’t seen you the entire week other than to administer the lab but that didn’t mean you didn’t still plague his thoughts more increasingly as of late.
It was making Choso a bit reckless. 
Needing to relieve stress he had created 2 more death paintings. A mistake as it was rumored the local police would soon reach out to bigger towns for more help and perhaps even the FBI would send an agent soon to campus if this kept up. 
He had to move more carefully. 
Maybe make it look like there were multiple Ghostface killers for starters.
“3 Victims, One Week: The Copycat Ghostface Reign of Terror Continues!” 
You read aloud adding a bit of dramatic flair to your voice as you recite the front headline of the campus paper and jar Choso from his thoughts of you. 
Speak of the devil.
You approached Choso at his table and he immediately noticed you were wearing his jacket again, well more like swimming in it as it was clearly too big for you.
This time though you were bundled up in a scarf, leggings and heeled booties. He was glad his face was already a bit red from sitting out in the cold because he couldn’t stop the intrusive thoughts from forming that you looked even sexier cozied up and comfortable in his jacket than in the slutty sailor costume.
“I don’t know why you even bother reading that shit Y/N. They never have any interesting details anyway.” Choso tried to feign disinterest in your arrival but his leg was already slightly bouncing under the table, nervous energy returning.
“Well I have to! You wouldn’t go to the crime scene for me last Saturday, remember?”
How could he forget?  
However a part of him did want you to view it though, his masterpieces, his kills. 
See how glorious their blood looked sprayed on the walls, the ground, and the general surroundings of his victims. 
But he knew you’d never appreciate them the way he did even if you were a forensics student.
“Oh and sorry!” 
You interrupted his thoughts once again.
“I meant to give you back your jacket, I’ve been carrying it with me hoping I’d run into you but I ran out today and forgot mine…whoops! I hope you don’t mind me wearing yours a bit longer?”
Your saccharine smile has Choso sucking in a hard breath. 
At this point he would prefer you to just keep it, he couldn’t trust himself if he had it back with your scent all over it knowing you had been carrying it around all week.
He would never know any peace.
“Keep it as long as you need.”
“Kay!”
You smile at him as you haphazardly plop your overstuffed tote bag down next to him, which of course spilled all its colorful contents all over the table. 
“Oh Crap!” 
You lean over to reach for your bag but almost spill the tray of hot coffees in your hand.
“Y/N, Watch out!” 
Choso grabbed the tray before it could spill all over his and your belongings and sat it down on the table with a small exhale.
“Oh! Thank you!” You flash him a big grin. “I got this one for you!” 
You handed him a grande cup with ‘pumpkin spice dirty chai’ scribbled on it.
Choso preferred his coffee black and he has definitely told you that before but you always just brought him whatever sugary drink you ordered saying he needed to ‘try new things’. 
He wasn’t about to turn you down though, caffeine was caffeine and as a PhD student he needed all he could get. Choso also knew it was your way of thanking him for helping you so much in forensics.  
“Thanks...” Choso mumbled taking a sip. Shit this is actually good.
You sat down next to him, a little too close for comfort with your spandex clad thigh brushing up against his leg.
“Whatcha reading? Is it for your thesis?” You were perilously close leaning on him as you looked over his broad shoulder onto his textbook.
“Yeah, some forensics texts I need to review for citations. This section focuses on serology and bloodstain pattern analysis,” Choso stated knowledgably. 
“Oh! Like in Dexter!” 
“Yeah, Y/N, like in Dexter.” 
Maybe Choso is growing a bit soft as he can’t resist but to crack a small smile at your kid-like-enthusiasm for the subject, you were incorrigible. 
Choso also doesn’t miss the way your eyes sparkle when you ask him to tell you more about his research. 
And so he does.
Sometimes Choso forgets how easy you are to talk on the subject. To be frank no one outside his own PHD program ever asks him about his thesis so before he realizes it he’s letting his guard down to indulge you.
You both get so lost in the conversation to the point it hasn’t even phased Choso yet that you are now actually leaning on him. 
Your soft cheek rests near his shoulder and your body angles deeper into his as you point to ask him about a passage on the page which he begins to break down.  
You try to focus on his words but in the midst of Choso’s explanation your eyes stray from the text up to his face. 
You feel your body start to warm.You always thought he was attractive. His dark looks never deterred you if anything they were refreshing from the crew cut preppy jocks around you. Even more so with his piercings in.
Choso never wore any of his piercings during classes or while in the research library. You counted six facial piercings in total from the three on his brows to the septum, labret and finally the black bar piercing through his tongue that darted out exposed with the movements of his mouth. 
Studying him further you discover for the first time his tattoo across the bridge of his nose was actually covering a scar. It looked old but like it had been deep. 
You couldn’t help but wonder if it had hurt him and why he chose to cover it. 
You didn’t even realize you had reached out to touch it until you felt his gaze snap to you. 
Stunned and a bit embarrassed, you withdraw your hand.
“Ah, sorry I just noticed your tattoo was covering a scar…” you trailed off hoping he wouldn’t be annoyed with you.
Annoyance was the last thing on Choso’s mind as finally registered how you had melded yourself into his side body. 
Although his usual reaction would be to withdraw back, you might as well have him chained down to the table now as he was practically immobilized by you not even being able to look away. 
“Uh, yeah it happened years ago when I was a kid...I fell off the monkey bars, there was a lot of blood.” 
No one had even recognized it since Choso had it covered years ago. You were the first.
“Oh no! I loved the monkey bars, we used to climb up on them all the time when I was little. I guess those things are kinda dangerous huh? Actually, I’m kinda shocked I never fell, a miracle right?” 
You laughed and Choso found himself smiling at you again. 
You were too accident prone so it really was a miracle. 
“Yeah, good thing you never fell Y/N… It would be a shame to have to get a big ugly tattoo on that cute face.” 
Choso swore on his life those last words only were said in his head but from the way your eyes widened he knew he fucked up.
“I- that is.. I meant-”
Choso smacked a hand over his face. He can’t believe he just said that out loud to you. He was really losing it. 
“So you think I’m cute?” you teased giggling. You angled your head so you could look up at him from underneath his hand.
“Yeah, about as cute as the blood splatter diagram on this page.” he teased you back. A small smirk on his features as he peeked at you through his fingers.
“Hey!” 
Choso chuckled. Little did you know he actually paid you a huge compliment comparing you to something he thought so alluring as blood.
You grab the hand covering his face as your smile widens and you playfully struggle with Choso. 
You don’t become aware of your close proximity until you almost bump noses.
Choso locks eyes with you and you feel your tummy tighten as you bite your lip. 
You’re still holding his hand and after a while you work up the courage as your other hand comes up to touch his face. 
“Your tattoo isn’t ugly Choso,” you breathe out softly.
Choso closes his eyes as you trace the scar beneath his tattoo. 
You weren’t sure what you were doing but your hand involuntarily begins to travel across his face and his piercings until they graze over his lips and he opens his eyes again.  
Startled by the sudden hungry look in his eyes you pull back your hand but he captures it in his own, him being the one to trap you this time.
If either one of you just moved even an inch forward your lips would touch. You see Choso’s lips part when–
“Yo! Hands off my girl, freakshow!” 
“Dean!?” You pulled back out of Choso’s embrace, floored to see your boyfriend and some more of his football buddies heading towards you as you knew they still should have been at practice around this time.
“Oooh he’s in for it now messin’ with Dean’s girl.” Dean’s football friends snickered.
Choso audibly breathes out in exasperation. The moment was ruined and he really didn’t have the patience to deal with your neanderthal boyfriend and his football lackeys who all shared a singular brain cell. 
Didn’t they have a ball or something to chase?
“Uh hey, Dean I..” 
You stop yourself when it’s clear Dean is ignoring you entirely as he approaches the table. Not even looking your way to greet you. 
His aura oozes faux tough guy bully and walks straight up to Choso to size him up leaning on the table to tower over him.
“I’m talking to you, freak. You think you can put your hands on what belongs to me?”
Choso doesn’t look up at him but his grip instinctively tightens on the pen in his hand under the table as if it was Ghostface’s hunting knife. 
Dean’s show of bravado going ignored by Choso pisses him off even more that his teammates are with him and the tough guy act is failing to have any real effect. 
Tch. 
With a swift movement Dean knocks Choso’s coffee over on the table, its half drunken contents falling on both you, Choso and his books. 
This has Choso rising out of his seat as he thinks your boyfriend must have an unknown death wish.
Choso’s pen is still in his grasp but by his side now. It would be too easy to drive it into Dean’s neck before the dolt even knew what hit him. A bit extreme, but it could be considered an unfortunate accident of self defense if Dean struck first.
Fortunately, you stepped in between the two in order to diffuse the situation without picking up on Choso’s murderous intent. 
You chewed your lip. This was low key, your fault. You technically were dating Dean. Although Dean was always the furthest thing from your mind when you were around Choso. 
You didn’t even feel guilty for being caught as you’ve had your own suspicions for a while Dean had been cheating on you anyway, you just couldn’t prove it. You were still dating him more out of convenience than anything else, other jocks and frat boys left you alone knowing you were with him.
The only guilt you actually did feel was for Choso. This wasn’t his problem or relationship but of course Dean was a big enough asshole to make this into an actual issue with Choso since it was becoming clearer how little respect he had for you.
“Dean, what the hell is your problem!? You got coffee everywhere, this isn’t even my jacket.” 
“Don’t what the hell me Y/N, you're so fucking dumb you’re going to let this freak get in your pants when– wait you’re wearing fucking his jacket!?” 
Dean was yelling now and a small crowd was forming and starting to take out their phones to record. 
You could not let this turn into an incident.
“Dean chill the entire fuck out, would you?! It was cold, so he let me borrow it– He’s just my T.A.”
A wave of harsh realization washed over Choso. 
Just her T.A.
Right.
Choso is no one important to you, especially with your football boyfriend and social standing on the line.
He’d let whatever the fuck almost happened between the two you just now make him forget that. 
Not anymore.
“That’s right. I’m just her T.A. So if you’ll excuse me.” 
Choso turned from you both to salvage what he could of his books and leave.
You couldn’t place the emotions in Choso’s words and it made your chest tighten up. But you weren’t trying to write him or your almost-kiss off. 
You didn’t mean for it to come out that way but you really lacked the proper words in these kinds of situations.
“Where do you think you’re going, loser?”
Dean grabbed Choso’s shoulder but the intense murderous look in his eyes made Dean release him just as quickly as if he had been burned. 
Even his football goon friends unconsciously took a few steps back feeling the very real threat in Choso’s eyes. 
Choso smirked as he left. Thought so. 
“W-wait Cho–”  
You want to stop him but feel Dean’s rough grip on your wrists.
“Whatever, let’s fucking go Y/N. We have an important party to throw later.” 
Dean grabs your wrist and jerks you away with you barely being able to grab your bag. 
Your stomach twists and you are at a complete loss for words but manage to flash an apologetic look at Choso while you are dragged off. 
However when your eyes meet he looks right through you.
The expression on his face is stone cold and it sends a chill up your spine.
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© ʙʟᴋᴋɪᴢᴢᴀᴛ 2023. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ ꜰɪᴄꜱ, ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇꜱ, & ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀᴡɪꜱᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ
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A/N: I promise it won't take as long for the second part to come out. I'm half way done with it already! I was just going to wait and post it all together but a like 12k+ word post all at once would be insane lmfao. After I am finished with this prompt the next 3 stories I will do will be from Thrilling Ghouls as they are all much shorter PWPs in the 3-5k range and I won't have to stress so much since I'm realizing all my Smooth Criminal prompts are longer fics and it takes me like a week or more to write them.
ღTaglistღ: @callm3senpaii @arxliana @jujutsualy @luxiethefairy @akaza-simp01 @fredswh0re @missphanosaur18 @moon-esque @samicamy-13
comment on m.list to be tagged in future Kinktober '23 stories
please stop to take a look at this wonderful art of the last scene that @laikatsuki created, tysm again pookie bears!!!
Reblog for Ghostface!Choso to come steal your panties although comments and likes are appreciated all the same!
PART 2
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bee-wg · 3 months ago
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Year 3:
Now that I think about it, football has been a constant in my life for five years now. I’m not sure if I enjoy football anymore; it used to be about the fun we have passing the ball, now it’s all about the stats or the perfect form. 
I stood up from the bleachers to hand Brad his towel.
“I’m going to leave the team, Brad,” I said.
“What? Where did this come from?” He said frantically.
“Everyone knows I’m still on the team because you’re the team’s captain now,” I said.
“I don’t want to cause tension between you and Coach. There’s nothing I could do wobbling around the field anyway,” I added.
“Dude, you know I started playing football because of you, right?” Brad said.
“Bradley, relax. I’m not dead. You can come over to my house whenever you want.” I said.
“Theo can make you some lemon pudding cakes if you want to come,” hopefully this will calm him.
“Fine. Just so you know, I’m not happy about this,” he said, sounding like a brat.
“Okay, got it. Have fun at the party,” I chuckled.
“I won’t. I’m going to make the DJ play Lana Del Rey,” he said before entering the locker room.
There might be an oversight of me quitting football.
It’s literally the reason why I quit. I don’t know why it never crossed my mind.
How the fuck am I going to lose weight now?
“Maybe I would’ve thought it if the word, “exercise” was anywhere on my to-do list this past year,” the voice from the back of my head said.
Shut up, rational thought. I was just a little too cocky, that’s all.
My mind spins around the paths I could take to shed the fat.
Back to the gym for the bodybuilders to laugh at me jiggling like a puddle of slime on the treadmill.
No. Hard no.
Stop eating whatever Theo puts in front of my face.
Productive, but I’d rather die than miss out on the joy of the world.
Post my weight loss journey edits on social media, reminiscing on my rock-hard abs like a depressed, fat person.
No? No, actually it might just work.
My thumbs got to work. It took me an hour to choose a profile picture that represents me. I could go for a vacation photo by the beach, or the classic black and white moody gym pic. Except, I don’t have a picture of myself on my phone, so I chose the picture of an orange cat eating a banana.
With my camera set up, in my favourite green tank top. I pressed record.
It was an embarrassing experience editing myself, watching my belly sway every time I made a movement. In the end, I closed my eyes and uploaded the video.
“Oh! First comment already.” I said.
“Look at those milkers spilling out the tanks!”
3. Post my weight loss journey edits on social media, reminiscing on my rock-hard abs like a depressed, fat person.
The following weeks consisted of me eating my feelings. At least half of my classes are online this semester. I can be embarrassed in peace.
The pounds kept creeping up with each spoon of ice cream down my throat. In the blink of an eye, I am dangerously close to 300 pounds.
I finally worked up the courage to ask during a normal family dinner.
“Honey, what happened? You’re not eating as fast as usual. Is Theo not cooking enough?” Mom asked.
“No, Mom, I just…I just hope you guys can ease up with your little cooking competitions.”
“Oh honey, you know Theo and I will stop with the food whenever you ask.” Mom tries to reassure me.
“No! Obviously don’t stop the food. It’s just that I’ve been blowing up like a pig and I don’t know what to do about it.” I said.
“I didn’t know you were sad about it. I just want my family to be happy, you look the happiest when you eat,” Mom said
“It wouldn’t have helped when you guys lost for the past two years,” Mom added.
“Well, Dad likes to eat better, and no one eats like him,” I replied. 
“I’m sure my cooking was the reason we won. David is a gym teacher, he walks off the food easily,” Mom said.
“Theo is a professional though, no offence but no one on the planet cooks like him. I’m sure football was the reason we lost,” I said, trying to talk some sense into her.
Theo stares at us with wide eyes.
“Jacob, I’m sure you didn’t mean it,” Mom said with a blank face.
“You know what? Keep doing your competition, this time again next year we’ll see who’s the winner,” I said.
I am clearly a failure at losing weight. The only thing I’m good at is eating. If I’m going to gain weight anyway, I’m going to go all out and win this shit once and for all. Once this is settled, I can get back to normal. Not wanting to disappoint Theo when we lose again was probably the thing holding me back. I can’t wait to eat all the delicious things Theo is- I can’t wait for this to be over.
“Alright, Jay,” she turned to Theo and said.
“Theo, my boy. I’m looking forward to seeing the results next year,” Mom said with a determined smile.
Everyone knows not to mess with Mom when she has that look. Even then, I feel like we could still win. Theo’s food is hypnotic already when I am restrained; imagine what it will do to me when I’m going all out.
“What’s going on again?” Dad asked with cheeks full of pasta.
“Don’t worry baby, you just need to eat a little more next year,” Mom answered.
“Okay, as long as I get my lasagnas,” Dad said.
Later at night, struggling to sleep, I contemplated on the bad decisions I’ve made. This one might take the crown to be the stupidest thing I’ve done. Yet, I don’t regret it.
“You didn’t have to stand up for me,” Theo said.
“It’s the least I can do when you wake up early to prep for my food, or go off on the weekends for groceries when you could’ve been doing anything else,” I explained.
“Thank you so much, Jay. You don’t know how much this means to me. My family wanted me to do anything other than cooking, but you guys have been nothing but supportive,” he said.
I smiled at the ceiling. The gremlin is nicer than I remember.
“Now, I won’t allow you to slack anymore with the amount you’re eating. Not until the competition ends.”
Huh?
Theo had stuck to his word and increased the amount he was cooking. I am now eating the amount of three people in each spread-out meal, still lacking behind Dad’s impressive five person’s amount per meal. So I have been playing catch up with him this entire month.
I realized quickly that I had underestimated the gap between Dad and my appetite. In the last few years, for the most part, I have been eating whatever I want, leaving the rest to Dad. With the exception of eating for the team once a week, I have been slacking. That was quite a hard pill to swallow. I’m 300 pounds, yet not doing a good job as a fatass. How is that possible?
So far I have gained about 23 pounds in the past two months. Normally, I would freak out and have a breakdown in bed because I’ve gained more than my freshman year in two months. Right now with my messed up head, all I can think about is how far I am behind. If we lose this again, it would be once and for all, and I would never let myself live this down. Theo deserves better with how good he’s been treating me.
With my new bulk, the stairs have been an increasing challenge. So, a few weeks ago I moved downstairs to a tiny guest room that was converted to a storage room.
The moment I moved down, I could hear Theo’s voice yelling, “Yes, Finally! Goodbye insomnia,” In my old bedroom. Before, I would’ve yelled for the brat to shut up. Now, with my stomach full. I just wanted a nap in peace.
It took me no time to adjust to the new arrangement. With more time home from all the online classes, I get to be as lazy as I want. Dad has a similar arrangement at home. He retired from being a high school gym teacher and football coach, now he tutors history at home. He also abandoned his hobby of brewing in order to laze on the sofa all day.
On weekdays, Theo would leave an abundance of food for me to consume with a list of how I should eat them to expand my capacity. The weekends are like heaven. From the moment I woke up, Theo would prepare delicious appetizers and pancakes for me. From then on, I would have a constant stream of food flowing into my mouth every thirty minutes. Sometimes, I would move my hands and my mouth would start to chew unconsciously. Alarming, but helpful. 
My belly started to expand outwards on my lap each day as I sat in front of the computer. The arm rest would feel more snug when I move around.
I have now discovered the perks of being a fatass. I can explore things I never had time to do, like the anime Brad has been begging me to watch, games I always wanted to play. Best of all is to experience all of these without moving an inch. These are the things I would definitely look back on with fondness when the competition ends.
***
Today is my rare outing of the month; the bus is late again but I don’t blame them this time. The downpour of rain is gathering at the clogged sewer, creating a puddle. People are supposed to grow out of stepping in puddles when they’re kids. These undeveloped assholes apparently didn’t. Several cars saw the puddle and decided to splash it straight to my face.
It’s fine. It’s all fine. I will feel better later.
I walked a small trail after getting off the bus.
Great. The angels decide to stop peeing from the heavens when I’m about to get inside.
Dad is buying a new SUV, maybe I can drive it next time. It’s too big to sneak off though.
I thought as I skipped through the stone pathway. The usual grass is covered by the water, creating a small pond.
“Annyeonghaseyo,” I said to the door cam.
After pressing the doorbell several times, it replied.
"안녕, fuck boy. Back so soon?" Number Seven said.
“Yeah, yeah. Just open the damn door,” I said, trying to hurry the fucker.
Number Seven’s face appears in front of me.
“You’re soaked! Come on in,” he said.
His house appears to be orderly. Clean. He must’ve had another fatass here not long ago.
“Woah, you look—Wait, let me guess. Another fifteen pounds since last time?” He asked.
“Come on, let’s cut to the chase. I really need it right now,” I urged.
“Hahaha, not even a shower. Desperate much?” He said.
I walked inside his bedroom, dimmed the lights and took off my shirt.
He walked towards me. Grabbing me by the belly hang in one hand, he pulls down my underwear, causing my ass to vibrate.
“Fuuuuck, can you take it out first?” I asked, trying not to moan.
“Sure, you think you’re ready for me today?” He asked.
“Yeah, I think so,” I answered. 
He slid his hand behind, right down my ass crack and slowly pulled the vibrator off. I applied it before leaving home, without accounting for the possibility of the bus delay.
“Mmmmph, fuck,” I groaned.
I’ve been training towards today for a while. In the beginning, I would come to his house and he would suck me off. If I’m feeling experimental, I would suck him off. It stayed like that for about a year and he never complained. Then I asked him for more. He would start fucking me between my moobs or between my ass but never enter. One day, I told him I was ready for him to start fucking me.
Big mistake.
He’s a manwhore for a reason. I didn’t think an 8-inch would be so hard to take. How the girls and twinks take them in porn is beyond me. It was painful when he entered, even when he said he had “loosened my hole” with his fingers. I shouldn’t have believed him, the fucking thing was massive.
After the incident, he gave me small dildos and vibrators to get used to it. We eventually worked our way up the scale until the one he’s holding now. Why did I do all this work to have a men’s dick in my ass? Who knows. I have already accepted that I’ve lost it.
He sucked on my nipple suddenly. The sensation took me by surprise.
“Dude, some warnings please,” I asked.
“Yeah, sorry. Those tits are just so plumped. Your nipples have grown larger than my thumbs now,” he said, about to continue.
“OKAY, I get it. Can you get to work now?” I asked.
My boobs are what everyone thinks about when they see me these days. I’m sick of it.
“Hahahaha, can’t wait to be fucked, my pig?” He said before pushing me down the mattress.
I held my belly to stop it from jiggling. 
He raised one of my legs and opened the bottle of lube with his teeth.
“There’s something by the pillow. Put it in your mouth. It will distract you and dull the initial pain,” Number Seven instructed.
I reached out to grab a—frosted pound cake?
I’ve never seen people doing this in porn, but I’m smart enough to know not everything in porn is real. 
With my mouth full of cake, I spread out my legs, trying to relax so I don’t end up like last time.
He pushed two fingers in, slowly massaging me, then three fingers to stretch my hole. When the frosting melted in my mouth and I finished the chunk of the cake, he signalled me that he was done.
Another piece of the pound cake fills my mouth when he aligns his cock to my hole. He was right, I was fully consumed by the sweetness to notice any discomfort. I quickly swallowed the cake so he could proceed. 
It was unbearably slow as he entered. I don’t understand what all the fuss is about with people bottoming.
He kept asking for reassurance. At this point I just want him to st—
“A-ahhhh oh shiiit!” I moaned.
“Fuuuuuck, what the hell was that?” I screamed.
I must have been too loud and spooked him.
“Are you alright? Sh-should I call an ambulance?” He asked.
“No! Don’t stop, please,” I begged
“Okay, just so you know, I’m not all the way in,” He said.
How? This is already longer than any toys I’ve put in there.
“Gnghhhhh~” I moaned as he thrusts all the way to the bottom.
He kept a steady pace all the way in then almost all the way out, leaving me feeling empty.
“Hurry! Faster,” I asked, almost in tears.
He looked at me with a devious smile and thrust right into the spot.
“Mphn- Yes! Keep going,” I urged.
Every small movement rubbing my G-spot feels like masturbating for hours without release.
He thrusts quicker with more force, causing my belly and moobs to shake violently. 
I try to stabilize my belly with my hand before trying to reach my throbbing cock.
“Help, I-aghh fuck, I need to touch my dick,” I asked.
“Let go of your belly, fat boy. Or I’ll stop,” He said.
Immediately, my belly returned to wobble violently.
“I can’t believe you turned into such a pathetic horny mess in such a short time,” He said.
”Come on, Seven. I just need you to hit that spot. Please, I’ll do anything!” I begged.
He keeps deliberately missing it. I need to be fucked there!
“Keep your hands on your nipples,” he ordered.
The over-sensitive nipples drive my weeping cock into a frenzy.
Fuck, I need to touch my cock right now. If only my fucking belly is not on the way.
“You know, when I first saw you, I thought you were the kind of jock to gain a beer belly in college, and not get fat until you turn thirty,” he said, before ramming straight into my prostate.
“Fuuuuck yeahhh,” I said unintelligently. 
“You are much more of a pig than I realized,” he said, thrusting straight into it again.
“Helll yeahhh,” I said, trying to rob my ass to his dick.
“How do you feel seeing your bubble butt balloons four times the original size?” He asked, followed by another thrust. 
“I fucking love it! I love how it wobbles around whenever I walk!” I said, moving my jiggling ass back to his dick again.
“How do you feel seeing your abs growing before your eyes, knowing you could stop it if you just stop eating?”Another thrust.
“I can’t help it! I love eating too much!” Maybe I am meant to be a fat ass.
“Right answer. Now you’ll get your reward,” he said and sped up, hitting the spot perfectly every time.
I imagine his face to be someone else, someone far from my league.
My cock rubbed against my sensitive underbelly, and I shot out jets of cum for what felt like forever.
As white clouded my vision, a euphoric relief spread over my body, melting me into the mattress.
“You passing out again, fuck boy?” Seven asked.
“No, just enjoying the bliss. I can’t believe so many men in the world are missing out on this,” My hole already feels empty. How am I going to go back from this?
“Aww man, I’m all sticky and shit,” I examined my body, cum shots and rain definitely don’t mix well together. Some of them even got between the fat folds. I swipe my finger in between the fat. “Oof, I stink too.”
Seven looked at me and signed. “You’re somehow still a stupid jock inside.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” I asked.
“I got you the fast food you asked for,” he said.
“Yes!” I rushed to the kitchen.
Ignoring his stupid laugh, I microwaved the burger and fries.
The breeze of the air conditioning reminds me of something.
“Shit, I ran out here naked.”
When I ran back, he had already put my clothes in the dryer, and I got into the shower.
When I got out, Seven brought me an old shirt I left here. It fits me like a glove with half my belly exposed. He stopped laughing when I was about to throw myself on him, then brought out a shirt with the Flash’s symbol on. Probably from another fat ass he fucks. The shirt still looks painted on, revealing the shape of my nipple and the dent of my belly button. At least he’s driving me home.
***
Staying at home has been a life-altering experience. 
The only time I ever move is going out of the bed to the desk, or to the bathroom. All I have to do is sit back, relax, and eat some fried food. 
With more time with myself. I’ve realized how much I dislike all the people in school that only approached me because I was one of the football jocks. I could’ve been anyone. Now, I am me. Not a worry about whether or not I’m muscular enough like other jocks, just a bigger Jay.
Sitting beside me, Dad scratched his belly and released a belch without a care in the world. He has adapted to fat guy mannerisms quickly. I’m catching up too. Today is movie night, usually we have pizzas and beers. We started this when the football season came, he asked to skip it. It was the first time we’ve skipped watching a Super Bowl season. I guess I’m not the only one losing interest in the sport. We decided to watch the Lin-Manuel Miranda Monkey movie instead.
Being on the couch with Dad made me realize I was getting closer to my goal. I can’t wait to see the results.
***
“Hell yeah, my man, you can do it!” Brad said, slapping my shoulder.
“What are you doing here?” I asked
“You said I can come in whenever I like,” he replied.
He’s been breaking into my house for no reason, just to stay on the second floor the entire time doing god knows what.
“I’ve brought some beef jerky here to celebrate,” Brad said.  
The scale has been set up, we’re only waiting on Mom. They’re doing some last minute catch up; mom is using a funnel to pour some milkshake in him. I am not concerned though, sticking to Theo’s strict diet every day has not been easy. I have to eat until my stomach is fully bloated. Every morning, I watch my belly deflate a little less, every evening, it bloats even further. 
“Don’t worry, Jay. We’ve got this,” Theo assured me.
“By the way, what are we doing again?” Brad asked.
Dad came out, looking absolutely massive. With Mom on his side, he stepped on the scale.
The numbers keep going up and don't seem to be stopping.
300-350-392-400-443
Holy shit, Dad gained a hundred and forty pounds this year. 
With more uncertainty, I took my step on the scale.
“Woo-Hoo, Jay man, you got this!” Brad shouted quietly.
I try to look under to see the number, but my belly is too big for me to see the scale.
Theo stepped closer and read. 
“Four Hundred and fifty yes!” Theo cheered.
“I won? Yes, finally!” I said and did a little jump.
The scale made a “Pop” noise.
“Oh! Sorry, Mom. I know this is really expensive.”
“Don’t worry, sweetie. We need to upgrade anyway,” Mom said, then she walked towards Theo.
“Congratulations Theo, you made me pull out every trick in my book. It’s so nice seeing you improve so much in front of my eyes, in terms, you pushed me to improve too,” Mom said, then hugged Theo.
“I can’t believe my boy is bigger than me now. Excellent work, Jay!” Dad said and hugged me, too.
Last time I was bigger than Dad I had sculpted abs, the body I dreamed of. This time, I’m almost three times the size as I was, fully covered with fat. Yet, I feel less empty inside.
“Thank you Dad,” I said, hugging him back. 
After all this time, I finally have a body I like being in. The belly doesn't look so wrong on me anymore.
Chapter 4 ->
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anthotneystark · 4 months ago
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I wanna reach out and grab ya
(edit: now on ao3!)
In the aftermath, as the dust settles, the world shakes.
He expects it, but it still catches him off balance.
He leans against the ambulance, brushes off Nancy’s comment about him needing medical care. Jonathan gives him a look like he wants to call him out on it, but he lets it go. He’s not sure how long he’s been awake, but he knows that if either of them really pressed him, he’d fold like a paper bag.
You know, easily but with a decent amount of noise.
It’s all he can do to keep upright, using the cool metal door to help. The world doesn’t exactly feel steady, but he took a few hits to the head and he’s sure that’s not helping. There’s a ringing in his ears, his sides ache, his face burns, and he’s not altogether sure how long he’s been awake. He’s sure it’s been somewhere along the lines of too long. He’s not looking forward to going home, not when all he’s got waiting there is a cold, empty house. His parents won’t be back for a few more weeks.
Even if there’s a part of him, a big part if he can admit it, that desperately wants his mom to be there, he’s not going to call and ask for her. He’s supposed to be an adult now, he’s supposed to be growing up, he can’t call for her.
Even if it stings a little, watching other people reuniting with their families.
He loses track of time a little, and is only snapped out of it when he’s dragged into a hug. It’s tight, warm, and so gentle for how fierce it is. He reflexively hugs back before he puts it all together, before he recognizes that it’s Claudia Henderson. She’s saying something, but he can’t really hear it because he’s too busy trying to catch up on what exactly is happening. When she pulls back, she either repeats it or it’s a different question.
Robin answers before he can.
“Yeah, Steve’s gonna stay with me tonight.”
“I am?”
“Yeah, dingus, remember?”
“Right, yeah, I’m staying with her tonight.” Except. “How are we getting to your place? I lost my keys,” he adds.
“Oh, don’t worry about it, I’ll take you,” Claudia says. A godsend, really, always. He’s going to need to get new keys entirely given that his have probably been melted by the fire, but he can’t tell her that.
Robin sticks to his side as they go to the car, her hand slides into his and he holds on tight. He doesn’t let go until they’re in her house, after the quiet car ride where he almost dozed off a dozen times. Her parents are at work, both on the night shift at the moment, so it’s just them. Convenient, given that they’re probably going to wake up screaming at some point. She shoves him into the bathroom first and he uses her strawberry shampoo and doesn’t bother to even attempt anything resembling his usual process for cleaning up.
While she takes her turn, he pulls on the clothes she set out. A Hawkins Band tee shirt that’s a little tight and a pair of gym shorts that are probably bigger than his own. He’s almost dozing when she starts messing with his hair, helping to dry it without him even noticing she’d finished her shower. It’s more a nervous movement than anything, but it feels nice.
“We’re going to need to keep some of your clothes here, you know.”
“Why?”
“So you have something to wear, obviously.”
Obviously. Because he’s going to stay with her sometimes. He should have her clothes at his place too then, even if he’s perfectly willing to let her raid his closet. He likes the idea though, the plan to mesh themselves together already. He’s never had anyone in his life who’s made themselves at home in his heart this quickly.
He’s not sure when he drifts off, when she tugs him the rest of the way onto the bed, when she pulls the blanket up, only distantly feels the way she leans into him, the way he reflexively curls into her.
She feels like she’s always been here with him and he can’t figure out how he lived without her.
----------
Robin is perfect.
Not like, literally, and it’s not the same as when he’d say it about Nancy.
That’s the other thing that he figures out with her. He’s really not in love with Nancy. He’d said it, but it really sinks in later. It sinks in the first time they talk about romance, as he tries to give her flirting advice while she laughs at him and asks if he needs a new whiteboard.
They do mingle their closets too, as planned. She still steals his clothes, and he ends up wearing her tee shirts more than his own. She takes him thrifting and shows him all her secrets and he teaches her the art of negotiation in stores.
(She’s in awe when he talks down a sales clerk over a stain that he then magics away in the laundry room at his house.)
He shows her how he learned to cook and she helps him to get creative with new ideas. She demands the first bite every time, and he’s happy to share it.
Her parents welcome him though. Her mom teaches him more about first aid than he learned lifeguarding, and her dad teaches him more about cars in his spare time. He’d known some, but it’s nice, being taught instead of just figuring things out on his own through trial and error. It doesn’t take long for him to get fully intermingled in the Buckley family and it’s the most love he’s ever felt.
Somewhere between the whiteboard and that first night spent sharing a bed, they become SteveAndRobin. Somewhere between her mom finishing her shift and finding them curled up on the couch watching cartoons (because after being exposed to terrifying monsters and soldiers, cartoons are necessary) and her dad coming home to find all three of them wrapped up in it, he finds out he fits perfectly in this space.
Somewhere between the first family dinner and the start of the school year, he unofficially becomes a Buckley.
Sitting there in the hospital waiting room, collapsed into a chair because he’s never felt this exhausted, with Robin at one side and Dustin at the other, with Erica and Lucas whispering with Nancy, with Eddie and Max in surgery, he feels it all building up. All the feelings he’d tried to push down, the fear and panic and pain, bubbling up to the surface. He’s not really looking where his eyes are aimed, not even paying attention until Robin is forcing his heavy, aching limbs up and toward an empty room. She gives him a look as she leaves him on the bed and he’s not even confused about her leaving him there to go back to the waiting room because it’s better if she stays with Dustin anyway.
Except then the door is opening again, with a familiar and welcome sight stepping in.
And then it’s all too much.
Those emotions bubble over with a half-sobbed “Mom” and then arms are around him, holding him together as he splinters into a million pieces.
His mother smells like expensive perfume, floral and chemical and strong. But Betty Buckley smells like antiseptic and cinnamon and it’s the most comforting smell in the world right then.
She doesn’t question the grime or blood staining his clothes, doesn’t try to get him to tell her what happened, just holds him because he can’t break in front of the kids, can’t let them see how much he’s struggling right now. He needs this, is the thing. He hasn’t really broken down yet because he has to be the strong one, he has to be tough, even if it kills him, but she’s safe. She’s safe enough for him to let go.
She lets him get it all out, and still doesn’t ask anything. It doesn’t really matter, not at the moment, so she just brushes his hair off his forehead, uses a damp cloth to wipe away some of the dirt, helps him to pull on scrubs before halting that process to treat his back and arms and sides and neck. He’s gone a little numb, but she moves quick anyway. And then he’s on his back, an IV hooked into his hand, and she’s pressing a kiss to his forehead and telling him to rest.
So he does.
It’s not a conscious decision, more like he was just waiting for someone to tell him he could.
When he wakes, Robin is in the bed next to him. Dustin is on a rolling cot against the wall. He knows without knowing that Max is down the hall, Lucas and Erica are with her, and Nancy is probably bossing around everyone in that way she does that he can’t help respecting. He doesn’t stay awake long.
----------
He’s going stir crazy.
There’s a lot of mixed feelings. On one hand, he’s slept a lot. On the other, the town is a little broken. Robin and Dustin are volunteering, and he’ll join them when he can get out there, but Richard Buckley is under strict orders to keep him from making an escape. The plant has been temporarily shut down, and he’s a glass half-full kind of guy, but it’s really inconvenient for Steve’s desire to be out of the hospital.
He still loves him though, really.
He finally gets a window when Rich steps out for real food.
(It had been hilarious when he and Robin established their dads are both “Richard”, but while Steve’s dad thinks shortening it sounds ridiculous, Robin’s dad loves to give himself new short names at every opportunity. The week he wanted to go by Chard was a fun week.)
He goes for the door, playing nonchalant, and is dismayed to find someone sitting outside.
“He told me you’d try and escape,” the man says, not looking up from his newspaper.
“I’m not escaping,” he lies.
“Humor me.” The man looks over at him then and Steve has to bite back his surprise. “Huh. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say your last name isn’t Buckley.”
“It’s not.”
“Then why have I been hearing for months about Ritchie’s boy?”
“Technically I am that.”
“Not the right one though.”
“No, but that’s sematics.”
“You’re missing an ‘n’ there, son.” The correction is gentle, carrying the tone of someone who’s used to reminding someone else of little details. For some reason, it doesn’t sting like it did when other people corrected him.
“Right, yeah.”
“You had a bit of blood loss, I hear. Maybe you should lay back down again.”
“I can’t. There’s…people are out there and need help. Other people got hurt worse than me. I can’t just lay here and do nothing.”
“You’re not doing nothing, you’re recovering.”
“I’m fine.”
“Doesn’t sound like you are,” he half mumbles, and god, it’s so familiar it aches.
“I don’t know why you’re focused on keeping me in bed. You of all people should be fine with me going out there to help out.” There’s a beat of silence, where Steve thinks he maybe overstepped, getting just a sigh in return.
“Maybe. But I know damn well how important you are to a friend of mine and he asked for a favor. I’m not about to let him down.”
“Mr. Munson –”
“Wayne.”
“…Wayne. You should go back to Eddie. He needs you more.”
“He’s got a visitor already. I’m not hovering.”
“I think you’re hovering a bit here.”
“Well opinions are like assholes, son. Everyone’s got one.” It’s enough to startle a laugh out of him, as Wayne stands up and ushers him back into the room. He didn’t notice while he was standing there as the pain in his muscles, the itching of the scabs, the exhaustion in his bones, creeps back up on him. He protests, but doesn’t really fight as he’s nudged back into the too firm mattress.
“Get some more rest, kid. Long days are coming, take advantage while you can.”
----------
“I just don’t get it!”
“Is he still talking about this?”
Robin’s groan is the only answer he needs. Dustin, back on his usual arguments after saving the world again, is expanding his hobby. Now he’s not just bugging Steve and Robin about their love life (love lives?), he’s dragging others in on the argument too.
“Dusty-buns, you seem to be awful involved in this,” Eddie teases. “Maybe you have a crush on Robin.” She makes a face, throws a marshmallow at him, and Steve snorts as he cackles.
“No! I just don’t know why they won’t date! Eddie, back me up on this,” Dustin says. “They’re perfect for each other! They laugh at the same jokes, share clothes all the time, and don’t even argue, Steve, I’ve seen her wear your jeans before and you’ve worn her sweaters. They share food with each other, spend all their time together, and they share chapstick!”
“Hey, we don’t spend all our time together! Sometimes I wait for her to bike to my house.”
“Not helping, babe.”
“See!” Dustin is probably seconds from losing his marbles, and Steve really should put him out of his misery, but it’s too funny still.
“You’re missing some key information, boy-genius,” Eddie says.
“Like what?”
“Like the fact that they’re never going to date.”
“That’s what doesn’t make sense!”
“Robin, pass me our chapstick,” Steve says, just to make Dustin a little more insane.
“You had it last. Steven, did you lose our chapstick?”
“I definitely gave it back to you.”
“Here you go,” Eddie says, tossing the little tube to Steve with a grin. Dustin’s eyes dart between the three of them like he’s just gotten new information.
“Eddie. Are you…dating Robin?”
It’s Steve’s turn to groan, and he doesn’t need to look to see the face Robin is making.
“Jesus Christ, Henderson, Eddie is dating me!” Now he’s silent. And Steve is going to panic if he stays silent.
“Huh. That makes a lot of sense. You were weirdly jealous.”
“I was what? No I wasn’t!”
“You kind of were,” Robin adds.
“And it makes sense why you wouldn’t date Robin, who is literally perfect for you.”
“How many times do I have to tell you we’re just friends.”
“Yeah, and I could be literally perfect for him, pipsqueak,” Eddie says, grabbing one of Robin’s marshmallows to throw at him.
“You and Robin are still weirdly codependent, it has to be said,” Dustin insists, batting away Eddie’s attempts to ruffle his hair.
“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you get psychically linked to each other. Get used to it, Henderson.”
“You’re what?!” Eddie and Dustin’s voices overlap, but they’re both drowned out by his and Robin’s laughter.
Their expressions alone are worth the lecture they’re going to get about keeping secrets.
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fear-is-truth · 13 days ago
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𝐇𝐈𝐌 & 𝐈 𝜗ϱ . . . 𝓟𝐀𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝓑𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐍
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tags — fem!reader﹒sfw + nsfw﹒headcanons﹒drug use﹒kinda toxic relationship﹒ p in v﹒handjobs﹒choking﹒use of the word “daddy”
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SFW
has a habit of disappearing without explanation, sometimes for days at a time. when he returns, he acts as though nothing happened, brushing off your concerns with dismissive and cryptic responses.
extremely critical of appearances as he doesn’t handle flaws well—patrick fully expects you to mirror his aesthetic standards. even the slightest imperfection, such as chipped nail polish or an out-of-place hair, will piss him off. you’re basically his personal doll at this point—he buys you designer clothes, ensuring you wear the “right” brands to fit his ideal of a partner. he notices everything, from your choice of perfume down to the shade of lipstick you wear. if you switch brands, he’ll immediately make a comment on it.
prefers to keep conversations shallow and detached, as deep emotional topics make him uncomfortable. he constantly rambles about his niche obsessions—pop culture, business cards, and the “superiority” of certain types of suits. that being said, patrick talks at you rather than with you. he can yap on for an entire dinner about the fabric quality of valentino suits or the importance of a tie that “truly complements the suit’s structure.”
a walking encyclopedia on serial killers. in the middle of any conversation, he’ll start spouting facts about ted bundy or ed gein. he expects you to be thoroughly impressed by his knowledge and gets viscerally disappointed if you don’t show interest.
genuinely believes his opinions on music are groundbreaking. he’ll pull out albums and spend a good thirty minutes explaining why genesis or huey lewis and the news are masterpieces, analysing lyrics and production with the passion of a critic.
talks about dorsia as if it’s the holy grail of fine dining. if he’s lucky enough to get a reservation, he’ll spend days before and after the meal casually hyping it up to everyone, making sure they know he managed to get a table. however, if he fails to secure a reservation, it completely ruins his week. you sometimes wonder if he’d cry over it. (as a matter of fact, he does)
frequently asks if you think his business card is better than “so-and-so’s,” as if it’s a critical matter. if he gets even a whiff of another guy’s success, patrick becomes obsessed with one-upping them. you’ve had to sit through countless complaints about paul allen, his dorsia reservations, the fisher account. he can’t handle criticism, especially if it challenges his idea of “perfection.” if you casually mention you’re not a fan of his music taste or his suit choice, he’ll literally sulk about it for days.
when patrick gets jealous, you’ll catch him clenching his jaw, his hand gripping your waist a bit too tightly. sometimes he’ll try to act indifferent, but the slight sweat on his forehead or the vein throbbing in his temple gives him away.
lives by his routines and gets annoyed if anything disrupts them. you’re expected to adhere to his exact schedule when you’re with him, from gym time to dinner to his beloved skincare regimen. if something goes off-plan, he becomes irritable, even if it’s just because you suggested a new restaurant.
although he appears to be emotionally distant, he’s highly hypersensitive to how he’s perceived by you. an offhand comment or anything less than admiration from you makes him noticeably on edge.
obsessed with acquiring materialistic items that showcase his success. he’ll bring up these possessions repeatedly, and when he buys something new, for instance a painting or a stereo, he’ll practically drag you to admire it with him, giving an extensive monologue on its artistic value or technical specs.
constantly trying to impress you with his wealth or his “connections.” he’ll drop the names of people he “knows” (sometimes with questionable authenticity) or go out of his way to show you his credit card just to emphasise how wealthy he is. patrick assumes his looks and material success is inherently attractive to you, and if you ever show interest in something less superficial, he’s truly baffled.
always subtly fishing for compliments, but he wants them to sound like they’re coming from you, not just because he’s prompting you. if you mention anything flattering about another human, you can see his jaw clench as he makes a mental note to find something he’s “better” at. if you don’t give him the attention he craves, he becomes passive-aggressive until you finally give in and tell him how handsome he is.
if you so much as hesitate before complimenting patrick, it eats at him. he starts nitpicking his own looks, spending even more time obsessing over his skincare routine, gym sessions, and hair products.
to patrick, relationships are transactional. he’s constantly buying you lavish gifts, partially to impress you, but mostly to keep you “tied” to him. he would be genuinely insulted if you didn’t wear or display his gifts, taking it as a personal rejection, even though he never explicitly says this. instead, he’d pout or go into a passive-aggressive silence until you “make it up” to him (usually with sex)
loves the fact that you’re both attracted to and a little intimidated of him. what he doesn’t know is that you also think he’s a pathetic loser.
insecure about whether you actually love him or are just with him for his wealth and status. he craves reassurance but would never directly ask for it, so instead, he does things to elicit compliments from you or waits for you to say something affirming.
secretly torn between wanting to keep you as a sort of trophy and feeling an actual attachment he doesn’t understand. on more than one occasion, he’s imagined what it might be like to marry you—he’s even purchased a 7ct diamond ring on impulse. the thought terrifies him, though. he’s afraid of real intimacy, of anyone truly knowing who he is. still, he sometimes drops hints about “the future,” gauging your reaction to see if you might even consider it.
likes it when you adjust his tie or fix his collar. there’s something about your delicate hands on him, perfecting his appearance, that makes the blood rush to his groin as he reminisces the same pair of hands wrapped around his cock. he’ll even purposely wear his tie a little off or leave his collar slightly askew, just so you’ll step in to fix it.
whenever you say goodbye before he leaves, patrick insists on making eye contact, as if daring you to look away first. it’s his way of ensuring that he’s the last thing on your mind as he walks out the door. expects you to fix his lapel, straighten his tie, or give him a quick peck on the cheek. if you forget or rush the routine, there’s disappointment on his side.
patrick insists on every detail being pristine and coordinated, and he takes pride in the aesthetic of matching “his & hers” items. towels, robes, toothbrushes etc. he doesn’t necessarily see this as sentimental but as a way to project his status to anyone who might see it—like a small, smug reminder that you belong to him. he’ll also make a point to keep these items perfectly aligned on the bathroom sink or kitchen counter, internally congratulating himself when he sees them.
adores watching you in the kitchen, especially if you’re wearing something skimpy or nothing but one of his button-ups left undone just enough. he’ll lean in the doorway, watching as you busy yourself slicing fruit or preparing his bran muffins for breakfast. he often finds himself admiring the delicate curve of your neck, the swell of your ass as you move, though he’d never voice anything genuine about it.
his nicknames for you : “kitten”, “bunny”, “sweetheart”, “doll”, “hun” or “honey” in public, “fuckdoll” in private.
your nicknames for him : “daddy”, “sir”, “pat”
super meticulous when it comes to your wardrobe, especially lingerie. he’s obsessed with victoria’s secret and demands that you wear sets he’s chosen—lace and silk, only in shades he deems “fashionable.” as a way to elevate his experience. he’ll sit back with a drink in hand, watching you with an air of smug satisfaction as you parade around the bedroom like it’s a runway.
has certain… kinks that he knows you wouldn’t approve of. this is when sex workers come in handy. sometimes, he wonders if he could somehow desensitise you or change your mind about these things. he drops hints, gauges your reaction to certain acts, and tests boundaries. if you outright refuse to engage in his fantasies, he holds it against you, making passive-aggressive comments about your “prudish” nature or implying that he “puts up with it” because he “cares about you.”
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NSFW
his dry cleaning bill has spiked noticeably ever since you started dating. nearly every other day, a new suit or bedsheet stained with cum is dropped off, patrick never looks the dry cleaner in the eye.
patrick’s version of aftercare is incredibly minimal. he’ll be content to simply roll over or give you a lazy kiss on the shoulder but that’s about as soft as it gets—he’ll immediately head off to the en suite to freshen up. if he’s feeling particularly generous, he’ll hand you a bottled water and that’s that. if you need anything more, he’ll listen, but the faraway look in his eyes suggests he’s already moved on mentally.
very fond of kissing your neck or collarbone, especially before you attend social settings—leaving hickeys and bruises. kisses from patrick can be surprisingly sweet and sensual when he’s in a rare moment of vulnerability, but it’s always short-lived.
he’s become addicted to the sound of your voice, so much so that he has tapes of you—masturbating while saying filthy things. when he’s stressed at the office, he’ll slip on his walkman, listening to your sweet whimpers and moans echo in his ears.
gets a thrill every time you say his name—whether it’s a soft “good morning, patrick” or a “mghm-ahh patrick!” when he’s jackhammering his cock into your cunt. he’s especially weak to hearing you coo or whimper his name, and he’ll go out of his way to make you say (scream) it repeatedly.
has a ritualistic routine for doing coke—spreading a neat line along your stomach and the valley between your breasts, admiring how good you look beneath him. when he leans down to snort the line, he often allows his lips to ghost over your hard nipples.
has no problem dropping obscene amounts of money on you—high-end jewelry, designer clothes, perfumes, he loves the way you look in everything he picks out. “only the best,” he’ll mumble as he fastens a diamond necklace on your neck. but his favourite part is admiring the pieces when he has both hands wrapped around your throat while fucking you.
he’s particular about which rings he picks out, envisioning how they’ll look on your fingers while you jerk him off. there’s something erotic about the way they catch light and glitter against your skin.
you’re kneeling in front of him, the hardwood floor cool against your knees as you stroke his thick, angry cock. patrick reaches down, thumb brushing over the 18k rose gold ring he’d recently bought for you. “looks nice on you,” he mumbles, almost distracted. you watch him for a moment, noticing the way he’s staring at your hand, like the ring is something precious he’s put a part of himself into. “you think so?” you ask, trying to read his expression as you continue to jerk him off. patrick clears his throat, dropping his hand a little too quickly. “of course. wouldn’t have bought it otherwise,”
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reminiscingtonight · 3 months ago
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pool, drunk, sunglasses Alexia
Cooling Off (Alexia Putellas x Reader)
[WOSO Masterlist]
You’ve been having a fairly great day so far. 
Woke up a little bit earlier than normal, but managed to have a cute little breakfast date with your girlfriend. Alexia catered to your every whim, being every bit the doting girlfriend you knew her to be. The two of you barely got through the door frame before your friends were dragging you back out again, so much yet to explore in the city. 
Now it’s late afternoon and the lot of you are all lying around the back of the villa. Most of the others are making great use of the pool, but you’ve found your own spot in the sun to work on your tan. Eyes closed, basking in the soothing warmth of the sun, everything would have been perfect… if it wasn’t for the shadow that falls over you in what feels like only a few minutes. 
Peeking an eye open, you’re not surprised to see your girlfriend peering over at you. 
“Pool time?” Alexia looks a bit sheepish, shuffling on her feet. It’s a question she’s asked no less than three times now, but each time you’ve come up with an excuse why you shouldn’t.
“I just ate.”
“I’ve got a cramp.”
“Oh look! I think Jenni wants your attention.”
Alexia’s an energetic person at heart. If she’s not out practicing on the pitch, she’s running or biking or doing literally anything to burn off her excess energy. Vacation Alexia is no different. She’s already managed to rope you and the other girls out on some sweat-worthy hikes. After the third time she tricked your entire group into joining her for another energy spending outing, you all banned her from planning any more activities for the group. 
She whined and pouted and argued away, but you all held firm. 
And that’s where the pool comes in. The only upside to having a pool in your rented villa, other than the occasional cooling off of course, is that Alexia has a way to work away her energy while everyone else gets to relax. It’s also a bonus that you have some nice eye-candy to look at while she’s swimming those strokes, but for the most part it helps keep the rest of you sane. 
So yeah, maybe you’ve been denying hopping into the pool whenever she asks. You know your girlfriend like the back of your hand, and you’d be a fool not to expect forced laps if you joined her in the water.
“Nope. I’m drunk. Drunk people shouldn’t go into the pool.” 
It’s a lie of course. 
You both knew how high of a tolerance you have, not to mention the clearly full drink still sitting by your side. 
Alexia doesn’t miss your full drink either, narrowing her eyes at you. “Drunk you say?”
You give her your best smile. “Yep. And you know what they say about drunk swimming.”
She raises an eyebrow. “It’s a good way to sober up?”
You roll your eyes, “No, you daft--”
Whatever you’re about to say is caught off in a scream when you’re suddenly hoisted in the air, sunglasses slipping off your head and crashing back down on your chair. 
“Alexia! What are you-- Let me go!”
Your girlfriend pretends she can’t hear you, tightening her grip on your body. It doesn’t matter how much you thrash, the muscles she spent hours cultivating in the gym were definitely not just for show. 
Everyone else at least has enough mind to swim out of the way when they see Alexia approach the edge of the pool.
“Alexia Putellas I swear to god, if you throw me in--”
“What’s that? Did you say something?” Alexia turns her head side to side, but there’s no mistaking the shit eating grin on her face. “‘Please throw you in?’ Oh well when you give me a request like that.”
“Alexia, don’t you dare!” 
---
Safe to say, Alexia spent the night sleeping in the living room.
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