hello!! if your requests are still open, i have to pick your brain on the debate of the century- which characters do you think are ass men and which are tits guys? 👁 (or maybe a secret sinister 3rd thing) (thighs)
Which characters prefer tits, ass, or mayhaps thighs?
CW: Use of the word "titty" but not intended to describe the gender of their partner. Still, in case the word may be triggering I just wanted to give a heads up.
Note: All characters are portrayed as being in their mid to late twenties!
Heartslabyul
Riddle Rosehearts
I feel like Riddle will never ever admit to it, but probably thighs.
He would love to lay his head on someone's thighs.
Stockings turn him on more than he would like to admit. If someone has on stockings with something that is cut high enough that he can see the gap of skin between their clothes and their stockings he's going to be in a lot of inner turmoil about it. He honestly might tell them to change their outfit because he's trying very hard not to look like a fucking pervert because he keeps glancing at them.
Ace Trappola
Ace is an ass man. He would like a lil something to put his hand on if he gives someone a hug.
And if they sit on his lap? Whew. 👌
Deuce Spade
Ass as well. They're just cute and round and fun to touch if he's allowed.
He's very subtle about it, so it's not something he seeks unless he's in private. If he's snuggling, though, he's probably either going to be the big spoon so he can pull them against him. Or if they're snuggling face to face or side to side he's probably going to rest a hand on a partner's buttcheek.
Trey Clover
Tits, though only by a little. He's good about not checking people out, but if you catch him staring at someone, you're probably going to catch him checking out their chest.
Cater Diamond
Please, god, a titty in his hand, PLEASE.
He also likes ass and legs but tits just hit different. They're so cute.
He absolutely is a menace about wanting them in his mouth if he's in bed with someone. He's got a tiny bit of an oral fixation and really likes the feeling of a nipple getting hard in his mouth.
Savanaclaw
Leona Kingscholar
Tits but less because of attraction reasons and more because they're comfy and warm and he wants to lay his head against them. He will adore using them as a napping spot, if someone lets him.
But if he can see a nipple through the fabric of their shirt it gets him a little riled up. If they're okay with it, he'll get a little handsy with them when he does notice it.
Ruggie Bucchi
Thighs 100%. He likes to go down on his partners and there's nothing quite so satisfying as feeling their thighs squeeze around his head when they're about to come.
He likes to leave marks on them too. Bites, hickeys, you name it. He likes seeing evidence that he's been there on his partners.
Jack Howl
Jack is a good boy and would never stoop to the level of objectifying someone by their body parts.
For real, he doesn't really have a preference, he likes them all. A titty in his hand, an ass on his lap, or an outfit that shows off their thighs, it's all just great. He's a little too moral bound to ever admit to checking them out.
Octavinelle
Azul Ashengrotto
He's not as subtle about it as he thinks he is, but it's ass. He has gotten called out by Jade and Floyd both when they catch him checking out someone's ass.
What can he say? It's something unique to coming on land since human anatomy is so different from merfolk anatomy in so many ways. He just likes to look a little...
Jade Leech
Tummies. I realize this isn't an option. Jade does not care. He just thinks it's cute.
Also humans have belly buttons which is not something they have under the sea. It's cute! And they come in different shapes. It gives everyone character to their tummies.
I have said it and I will say it again, he is a big fan of plus sized tummies. He just thinks. They're cute and soft and he wants to lay his head on them. And maybe bite a little bit. (He is an eel, after all.)
Floyd Leech
He doesn't have a strong preference, really. Maybe thighs? But really he just kind of is into who he's into and he doesn't know exactly why he finds certain things attractive.
Scarabia
Kalim Al-Asim
Kalim doesn't have a strong preference either. People are just hot, so he likes it all.
He's easily flustered by showing his desire, though, so having someone encourage him to touch their butt, tits, thighs, anything will make him a lil shy.
Jamil Viper
Titties but closely followed by thighs.
His favorite is to hug his partner from behind and sneaking a hand up the front of their shirt to just hold a titty in his hand. If he's being a shithead, he also likes teasing just enough that one of their nipples is hard and ignore the other entirely so he can tease them about being able to see it through their shirt.
Pomfiore
Vil Schoenheit
Thighs. (Or really, legs in general.) He thinks having shapely legs is one of the most attractive features on anyone, and he really likes the way that heels make legs look.
He loves to style looks for his partners if he will let them and you can best bet he's going to pick something to accentuate their legs.
Rook Hunt
I have said before that Rook is really into pretty much anything and that still stands here. He like them all, and his favorite is probably whatever his partner thinks is their best asset. He absolutely will hype them up and make them feel like a bad bitch regardless.
Epel Felmier
... Tits? Moreso he likes pectoral muscles since he's attracted to strength, so truthfully if he's checking someone out it's going to look like he's staring at their tits regardless.
Ignihyde
Idia Shroud
Thighs. Of course butts and boobs are great too, but he's more likely to check out someones thighs than anything else.
If someone is wearing something to accentuate their thighs or there's a little dip where their stocking sits on their legs he's going to be sweaty as fuck.
Diasomnia
Malleus Draconia
He's demi so he doesn't actively check people out most of the time. What he notices first is eyes, if that counts. He will complement people on their eyes pretty often.
Silver
He doesn't think about it actively, but tits for sure. It probably doesn't hit him unless they actually are pressed against him though.
For example, if he falls asleep against someone and they adjust so he's laying with his head against their shoulder with their chest pressed against his side he's gonna get a little flustered once he wakes up.
Sebek Zigvolt
Ass. Sebek is an absolute menace about checking out people's asses and, like with everything he does, he's really not subtle about it.
He honestly loves a nice firm muscle butt. He just thinks it's attractive how much work it must have taken to build that muscle.
Lilia Vanrouge
A little tiny slight preference for tits but it's because he's pretty much always eye level to them. It's nice to just put his face on them because they're soft. Plus, depending on how he lays, he can hear their heartbeat and that's a super soothing sound to him.
He's a little shameless about it, so his partner might have to deal with him just nuzzling right up to their bosom in front of god and everybody. Not even in a sexual way, he just wants to snuggle.
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Scream
Pairing: Jungkook x reader
Synopsis: It’s been a year since your mother was slaughtered, with no leads pointing to any possible suspects. It’s been an up-hill battle for you to accept what happened— especially with no answers or closure— and the citizens of your hometown have been sleeping with one eye open ever since. But now, the mystery killer has decided to make an anniversary visit, and is making it known that they not only have a dire love for infamous horror films... but they also have their targets set on you and all of your closest friends.
Word count: 8k
Headline: Small Town Woodsbroro Is Waking Up Screaming Once Again!
Warnings: dark themes; Gore; Smut; Crackhead humor (only because I promised my bff I’d give her an honorable death scene); Foul language; Jungkook is psychotic; Graphic depictions of him killing your mom/friends; we’re also going to pretend that it’s outrageously easy to get away with murder; dont fact check me on anything you read here; rough sex; mask kink.
Admin: @tatertotthethot
Baley was high as a fucking kite.
So high, that she didn’t care about it being 1am as she blasted the Cha-Cha slide at full volume.
So high, that she was completely disregarding her lactose intolerance whilst making herself a triple layered, sharp cheddar grilled cheese that was bound to have her ass blasting right back off by 3am.
So, outrageously stoned, that she was totally unaware of the masked killer standing just outside the glass doors in her kitchen, watching her every move.. With her beat up, hogtied boyfriend laying out next to him.
“Now it’s time to fawnky! To the right now—“
She crab walked along with the instructions, spatula in hand.
“To the left!”
“Take it back now, y’all.”
Ghostface grimaced beneath his mask, eyes stalking the stoned woman with disdain. She was the epitome of “crackhead energy” and it pissed him off how much she resembles you. It only makes sense, being as you two have been best friends since kindergarten— probably soulmates in a past life— but it is within that fact that Ghostface has grown to absolutely fucking loath her.
She’s too much like you. She keeps up with your humor and probably has more of your heart than he, himself, has earned a place in yet. He knows good and well that if it ever came down to you having to pick between him and her, you’ll pick her.
That simply will not do. That’s exactly why he is about to rid you of that option— or, as he sees it, the dilemma.
He growled and swung at the air, wishing he could just bust in and end her already.
“How could you be in love with that creature?” He hissed at Taehyung, the built-in voice box beneath his mask altering it enough to remain anonymous. The question was quite hypocritical, being as he was in love with a girl that most would consider Baley’s second-half, but only you were an exception to being so.. abnormal.
“Mmmph—“ Taehyung drearily gurgled out from beneath the strip of tape over his mouth, tears breaching his eyes as he watched Baley’s precious, uncoordinated ass do the “Charlie brown”. It looked more like a fucked up gallop.
“What is the sex like, dude?” Ghostface ripped the duck tape off Taehyung’s split lips. “That’s a serious question.”
“Boo bear..” was all Taehyung could muster up, more scared for her than himself.
Ghostface gagged and slapped the tape right back on with a little too much force, having to take a second to regain his composure before pressing the call button on Taehyung’s phone. The Spotify music thankfully cut off as her phone rang out from the counter.
Baley was only upset for a split before she spotted the name on her phone screen, and was quick to answer it with a sickening amount of glee.
“Angel muffin!” She cooed. Gross
“Hi, boo bear..” Ghostface flipped his middle finger up at Taehyung before clutching his Bowie knife back down to his side.
“Oh my God, What was that? You sound like Corpse, mixed with the bear from Five Nights At Freddy’s.”
“The bears name is Freddy, dumbass.”
Baley neck rolled back in offense.
“Are you trying to get pegged or prolapsed? Might wanna remember who the fuck you’re talking to, the next time you call this cellular.” She snapped, hanging the phone up with a viscous pout. She still somehow managed to pick back up on the beat and cha-cha’d real smooth as she took the pot off the eye and turned the stove off, visibly upset.
Ghostface stood there for a moment, processing what she just said, before turning towards Taehyung.
“She claps your cheeks?”
Taehyung glared back at the screaming-ghost mask, bracing himself when a gloved hand reached out to once again rip the ductape off his lips.
“It’s not sus!” He immediately defended. “I have a gspot up there for a reason. I am not ashamed to use it.”
“I don’t give a fuck about that!” The killer snapped out. “why would you let that.. unstable individual insert something into your rectum—“
“You’ve got a whole lotta nerve calling somebody else unstable,” Taehyung deadpanned, and with that, his mouth was once again resealed shut.
He called Baley’s phone again, just as she was about to take a bite of the sandwhich that she’ll, unfortunately, never get to eat.
“What, fucker?” She scorned.
“I can see you.”
“Oh, yeah?” She sarcastically spat. “Then what am I doing?”
She clenched her buttcheeks in and hunched her back out, her body resembling a question mark, before vigorously gyrating her body- mostly just her spine. Jungkook knows from the various tiktoks you’ve shown him that he was witnessing the inverted-twerk.
“Hm? Tell me, fuckboy. What am I doing?”
”Something a fucking cockroach does after I spray Raid on it. How the fuck do you clench your buttcheeks like that?”
Baley halted in mid thrust, surprised but not exactly fearful (yet) as she whizzed around to face the sliding glass doors that led into her back yard. It was pitch black outside, and all she could see was her own reflection starring back at her. She was also too high to care about the fact that she had the hood of her sweatshirt over her head and the strings pulled all the way out, which only exposed the center of her face in a squished circle.
“I use my glutes. You know that. Why haven’t you come in?” She asked, not superstitious but a lil-stitious.
“This isn’t Taehyung.”
“Okay, Isn’t Taehyung. Why haven’t you come in?”
“Because I want you to come out here.” The killer responded, grinning at the visible unease finally creeping into the girls stance.
“Okay, babe— I hate to be a bummer here, but considering that today is the one-year anniversary of Ms. (L/N)’s murder, this isn’t very Cash Money of you. Can you please just come in and.. stop?”
He let out a chuckle, a dark one.
“Boo bear?”
“What, Isn’t Taehyung?”
“Turn on the outside lights.“
Ghostface put the speaker on the phone and sat it on the ground as he crouched over Taehyung, pulling him to sit up straight. He watched as Baley apprehensively padded over to the light switch by the door. He could practically feel her heart beating in-sync with Taehyung’s racing one as he placed the knife to his neck, smiling beneath his disguise.
The lights flickered on, and she screamed, terror finally bringing the seriousness out in the situation.
“HANG UP OR MOVE A MUSCLE AND HE DIES!” The killer roared, knowing she was still too high for her survival instincts to kick in. Any sober, sane individual would’ve probably caught on to the fact that they were gonna die no matter what she did. What was just making it easier for himself, knowing her dumbass was gonna comply.
“W-What do you want me to do?”
See?
“Be a good girl, and come here.”
“Quit trying to seduce me, you sick son of a bitch. My boyfriend’s literally right there!” She croaked out, voice shrill with exasperation.
The killer plunged the knife into Taehyung’s arm, making him jolt to life with a pain-filled howl. Baley began sobbing out, apologizing profusely.
“Your boyfriends going to get gutted like a fish if I have to repeat myself. Drop the phone and come here.” Ghostface seethed, wrenching the knife back out on the last word.
Baley reluctantly— and stupidly— did as told. She let the phone fall from her hand, then jumped out of her skin as the Bluetooth reconnected in the house and started playing WAP. She tried not to sing along despite the situation as she padded over, shaky hands rising to cover her mouth.
“N-Now what?” She asked.
“I just figured your last words should be said face-to-face. Is there anything you two would like to say to each other?” He asked, that being the only generosity he’d be willing to spare as he ripped the tape away from Tae’s mouth, one last time.
Baley dropped to her knees, so much despair in her eyes. So many things she wanted to say. She recollected herself and caught her breath in just enough time to utter final goodbye: “I-I-I said certified freak..”
Tae’s eyes closed as a single tear escaped, nodding his head in understanding. “Seven days a week...”
“GAH!” The killer roared out, wrenching Taehyung’s head back to slice his throat before shoving him away and lunging at Baley.
She landed on her back with him on top, and he wasted no time as he began slashing her apart, in any way he possibly could. He let all the pent up rage and annoyance he felt towards her, out on her body. It was worse than the brutality he inflicted on to your mother this time last year. He’d only stabbed her a total of 19 times— one for every year she failed you as a mother. With Baley, he didn’t stop tearing into her until WAP ended. And damn, did it feel good. He finally felt like he’d purged his soul clean.
This may all seem reckless, but Jungkook was actually just lucky. In order to mask his true motive behind all this, he had to find another one to cover it with. It was simply convenient that Baley’s father is the town mayor, and after a little digging, he made the grand discovery that he was also having a secret affair with (Y/N)’s mother. In fact, the mayor had several mistresses throughout the town.
Jungk—er, Ghostface.. chopped off one of Baley’s fingers and slid the glass door shut, writing the same words on it that he wrote on your mother’s bathroom mirror.
CHEATING PIG!!
Yes. When he did this last year, the police had to dissect through your mother’s long line of past sexual partners, and had to track down the father you never met for an interview. No leads came about, because it was all time wasted, anyways. Now, with this new addition, the mayor will not only have to set the scandals ablaze again by having to publicly confess his infidelity to the town and police, but they’ll have to lead on another pointless investigation for every woman he’s cheated with— over a dozen of them. They’ll have to also charge him with withholding crucial information from the investigation as well, but what’s so fucking comical about it all is that.. NONE of it has anything to do with any of this. It’ll just be another cold case with no leads.
And maybe, just MAYBE you’ll be smart enough to ditch this place and come with him. That’s all he wanted. You have nothing left and nothing to come back to now, and as long as you give in to him and leave, there won’t have to be anymore lives taken. You could start a new life and never experience another hell like the one he’s creating here. If only you’d say yes.
“May you both continue to clap each other’s cheeks in the deepest depths of hell,” he told the mauled corpses as he walked off, so happy to have Baley gone that he almost wanted to skip to his car.
Now, he will go home and clap your cheeks to complete the cycle.
—
“Damnit, bitch, pick up,” you huffed in frustration as Baley’s FaceTime continued to roll over, telling you that she’s unavailable. You thought you could power through today with your newly adapted ability to suppress shit, but it was hard when you’re left alone to reminisce. You just couldn’t shake the fact that the date on today’s calendar marked the same day that your heart, soul, and peace of mind was so horribly torn apart.
It didn’t help that you also missed your mother terribly. She wasn’t always the best, but she still loved you, and you loved her. Oh, God. Mom—
No. No. Don’t think about her.
You tried calling Baley one more time and couldn’t fight off the tremble in your hands, nor the tears at your water ducts as it rung through till the end. Damnit.
You couldn’t be angry. She doesn’t owe you the company— especially since you two have already been FaceTiming all day. But she was good at distractions, always able to drag you out of your shell of deprecation with her chaotic sense of humor. She is one of the only two people you have in your life that are capable of doing such, but you knew you’d get scolded if you blew up the others phone. Jungkook hates being hounded and rushed, having already told you that he’ll be there any minute. But he’s taking way too fucking long it seems, and you just hate sitting here, waiting.
You can’t shake the feeling that you’re being watched. The feeling first crept up on you this time last year and never left. You felt so venerable to the cruel world when you’re alone, especially since the maniac is still out there.
You still resent the police department for practically giving up on your mother’s case after 9 months. “Cheating pig” was the only lead they got and yet, it pointed them no where. She wasn’t in a relationship. She didn’t even like relationships. And still, they deemed it a randomized attack— no leads, no motives. Nothing. Just a local woman stabbed in the chest 19 times while taking a shower. Like some Psycho remake. No signs of forced entry. No evidence of sexual assault. Just a very passionate, yet unexplainable massacre with a useless message left behind.
It doesn’t make sense. And even though you wish to never have the attacker come back, you can feel it in your bones that they will wish to clarify it one day.
“Fuck it.” You breathed out, heart slamming against your chest and paranoia gnawing at your insides as you quickly scrolled to Jungkook contact. But then, just as your thumb twitched to press the call button, your door bell rung and you sprung up to your feet, making a mad dash to the door. You checked the peep hole first, just knowing it was gonna be him, but was disappointed when it wasn’t. That still didn’t keep a rush of relief from washing over you when you did see who it really was, though. You forced a welcoming smile on to your face as you unlocked all 7 bolts from the door, and opened it to greet Namjoon and Hobi with a hug.
They were cops, currently in their uniforms, also old friends from highschool. They’ve been looking out for you ever since last year, always making sure you knew you were safe beneath their watch. They use to take turns guarding your house until they were told to stop, but you were extremely happy to see them both here at the same time tonight.
“Everything okay?” Hobi asked, having noticed the shake in your limbs during the brief embrace. He leaned back and observed the tension in your eyes, even though you were hoping to hide it.
“Yes, just— today,” was all you could say, and didn’t have to clarify for them to understand.
“That’s why we’re here. We got permission to guard your house tonight,” Namjoon explained, eyes drifting over your shoulder and into your house. “Are you alone?”
“Yes, but Jungkook should be here any minute now. He had to go to South Korea for a week for his fathers birthday and just flew back in tonight, but apparently there’s been some huge wreck on the main highway and everyone has been stuck.”
That bit of information was actually true. However, Jungkook was lucky enough to have just miss it.. because he’s the one that actually caused it. It was honestly dumb-luck as to how he did it, but kind of amazing when given details.
He was in the express lane, him and the car behind him hitting 80mph. He recognized the car as the one that was parked beside his back at the airport, because he had stopped and took a moment to judge the driver for how worn down and raggedy the tires were. One bad pot hole or nail in the road would strip that sucker straight from the rim.
And that’s exactly what inspired him as he recognized the car, an idea sparking that could soon serve as an alibi in the future. He already had a hand out the window, smoking a cigarette. He still has those iron steak-nails he used at his construction sight. They’re 5 inches in length, subtle enough to casually drop out of a car window along with the cigarette. If they hit just right...
He gave it a try, honestly thinking it wasn’t going to work.
But holy fucking hell, did it. Not even a second after he dropped it, did the car suddenly swerve out as it’s tires screeched and sparks flew. Rubber scattered out amongst the road as the car continued to spin out, getting struck by a the car in all 6 lanes of traffic, ultimately causing a huge pile up in just under 10 seconds. It was the most destruction he’s ever witnessed and it happened so fucking fast he almost ran himself off the road just watching from the rear view mirror.
“NO FUCKING WAY!” Jungkook had squawked out as his head rapidly whipped back and forth to witness the massive mess he just created behind him. He was smiling like the maniac he is, undoubtably impressed with himself. He did it so lazily, too. But it only pumped him up even more for what he needed to do- the whole reason he even thought to do that. He only wanted something major enough to buy himself maybe an hour’s worth of time, so that when/if he gets interrogated in the future, they can check the traffic reports for a registered wreck to fit his alibi. But considering that he just shut the whole damn highway down, it’ll not only register but definitely make tonight’s news.
“Ah, yeah. We heard about that. 36 cars piled up. Can’t believe nobody was killed.” Namjoon said.
“How the fuck did that even happen?” You wondered, baffled.
“Some dickhead was going 80 an hour on an old tire and it wiped out after hitting a nail on the road. Thankfully, he only has a broken nose and whip flash, but with all the cars that got totaled— I don’t even want to know how much the cost of damage would be. But it caused 5 miles worth of traffic back-up.”
“Mm..” you grimaced, shaking your head. “Well.. would you guys like some dinner? Maybe some Coffee?”
“Ah, thanks, but there’s no need. We’ve got all the energy drinks and McDonald’s we need. You just chill out for the night, we’re right out here if you need anything,” Hobi assured, making you genuinely smile for the first time in the past two days.
But that was just before a familiar car pulled up that had your mood skyrocketing.
“FINALLY!” You broke out, sprinting down the steps and over the driver side of it right as the man of the hour stepped out. He welcomed you with open arms and easily lifted your feet up of the ground.
He looked just as good as he smelt. You’ve missed him more than words could describe in this past week— and Jungkook knew it. Of course, he had offered to take you with him so that you could finally meet his parents. But as predicted, you declined, saying that it’d be too much to meet his mother when the anniversary of your own’s death was approaching.
You continued to squeeze your arms around his neck for the next several seconds, and it wasn’t until he heard you sniffling and felt your shoulders shake that he realized you were crying. He couldn’t help but like that type of reaction. He was hoping the distance would torment you, maybe teach your ass a lesson.
“Don’t cry,” he rumbled in your ear as he pressed you hard against his lower half, making sure to up the intimacy of the embrace as he felt the eyes of the onlookers in the yard.
He waited for a second before peering over at the officers, who were awkwardly standing beside their cars. He gave a wave, pretending as if he were sheepish about them having to witness this.
“How’s it goin, guys?”
“Fine, fine,” Hobi responded. “Don’t mind us. We’re just here to watch out for you guys.”
“I appreciate that. Really.” He said in his best acting voice, even flashing a dimpled grin that gave off nothing but innocence as the two got into a patrol car, nodding to him in welcome. It actually makes things more convenient for him. They’ll be able to backup his whereabouts later on.
He pondered this while returning his attention to you, coaxing you out of your emotional outburst.
“I’m sorry. It’s just been so hard not having you here. Fuck, I’m so glad you’re back.” You breathed in and sighed out, and he could tell by the end of the last sentence that you were more-so talking to yourself, clinging to him one last time just to greedily soak in the physical presence of his body. He felt something ache in his heart, as well as his jeans.
“Well, I’m here now. Maybe next time, you’ll just go with me,” he lightly chided, hand coming up to pet your head as he kissed the top of it.
“Yeah.. I started regretting it after the first hour you left.” You whispered out, meeting his lips. You kissed each other a couple times, probably more than necessary. But it calmed you down and made you feel steady again. “Come on, I made you something to eat.”
He got his duffel bag out from the back seat and slung it over his shoulder before taking your hand, following you inside. It boosted his ego knowing that the two men watching from the tinted windows of the car were secretly jealous of him. They had a thing for you. Almost every straight guy in highschool did. That’s why he never minded what you wore, and was more than happy to let you flaunt yourself to their eyes. He liked teasing others, knowing they’ll never have such a prize as you.
Once inside, you were quick to relock your bolts. You were very strict about that now, taking extra precautions to prevent a potential attack. It kind of humored him knowing that it was him, a resident inside this very home itself, that those locks were meant to keep out. You’re literally locking yourself in with the killer.
“Damn, you cleaned the hell out of this place.” He ogled, not only taking in the immaculacy but smelling the pinesol and bleach amongst the floors and counter tops. All the laundry was folded, not a speck of dust in sight. You even cleaned the grout amongst the kitchen flooring, it seemed. Nothing looked out of place.
“I had to do something to keep from wigging out,” you shrugged, walking over to start the microwave for him to heat up his dinner plate. He left his duffel bag by the door and grabbed himself a beer before sitting at the table, noticing it’s prestigious shine.
“Did you polish it?”
“Yeah...” you said as you scratched the back of your neck, somehow embarrassed.
“It’s looks amazing in here, kitten. Really. I know you did it to cope but still, you did a damn good job.” He praised, feeling a little bad. He knows this took a lot of work, and it sucks that you opted to do all this just to keep the anxiety of his absence away.
“Thank you,” you sighed, taking his plate out and sitting in down in front him, then handing him some utensils.
“Where’s your plate?”
“I already ate, silly. I’ll munch with you, though.” You began making yourself a salad as he began to eat, complimenting you on how good it was. He doesn’t know that you’ve been awake for two days straight, and that you’re still battling off an anxiety attack. You were expecting it to vanish now that he’s here, but the sleep deprivation was getting to you.
So, you decided to reminisce on better memories. The old days; back when you first met him.
It was senior year of highschool, and he was the new transfer student from South Korea. He was the punk-emo guy that stood out amongst the crowd. All black clothing, more band shirts than anything. He had that messy mop-hair going on, and approximately 6 piercings on each ear, along with a studded labret to boot.
From day one, he was the most attractive guy you’ve ever laid eyes on. Much to his exterior trope, he was anti-social and didn’t seem friendly at all. The only time you personally heard him speak for the first few months of school was when he’d answer the teacher for roll call.
You only had one class together, chemistry. He’d always sit at the back of the classroom, and you’d remember the giddiness you’d feel just before walking into class and making eye contact with him, even for just a split second. You heart always skipped a beat and would threaten to seize up whenever Baley would lean over and tell you that he was looking at you again. Of course, that would be all the interaction you could get, being as you refused to engage any further. But life seemed to play out like a Wattpad fic back then.
Around the middle of first semester, your teacher was fed up with all the chatter amongst friends, so she decided to assign seats. Jungkook’s was still at his designated one, but you had to sit directly in front of him so that Taehyung could sit closer up, next to Baley. It’s also thanks to that class that the two of them fell for each other. It was also the same day she issued a partner-assignment that had to be done with the peer behind you.
You remembered having to play it cool, turning your desk and chair around to face him head-on for the first time ever. You anticipated that he’d still be sporting that ice-cold, disinterested glare, but he actually seemed pleased. He wasn’t actually smiling but he had a friendly glint in his eyes, like he welcomed you.
“Hello,” he started off, naturally confident in himself.
“Howdy,” you responded, immediately hating yourself. You’ve never uttered such a word in your life and you don’t know why the fuck you decided that that was the perfect moment to try it out.
He only snorted back at you, though, amusement swirling in his colorless eyes. You were intimidated by that as well. They were jett black. No distinction between his pupils and his irises. Just solid, black orbs boring into you.
You then continued to battle with basic communication.
“So, uhm.. wh—..”
English, motherfucker! Do you speak it?!
“What parts do you wanna do?” You rushed out.
“I’ll get the information together and answer the questions, as long as you create the PowerPoint and present it to the class,” he said without missing a beat, as if he’d already decided on that for the both of you.
“What criteria, though?” You asked, still waiting on that part.
“All of it...” He reiterated in a “duh” tone.
“That’s not fair to you, though...” you continued.
He arched an impressively sharp brow. “How?”
“You’re literally doing all the hard work.”
He shrugged, and you tried not to drool when you saw all his rings and the veins on his hands and fingers as he took his phone out. “I learned this shit back when I was freshman in South Korea. We’re way ahead of y’all there.”
“Oh.. well.. I can at least do the images and label them.”
Stop starring at his fingers.
“Mm,” he hummed with a lack of conviction, still looking at his phone. “No offense, but no.”
“Uhm.. okay..” you frowned in dejection, not sure how to respond to that.
“I said no offense,” he grinned up at you apologetically. “I just know you’re bad with visualizations.”
“What? I have an A in here. How do you even know that?”
“The teacher got onto you for messing up the labels on the last test. You got all the functions right but failed to match them to their description.” He said without any hesitation, and you were just as stunned as you were embarrassed. But he didn’t seem to be insulting you, and even reassured you of it. “Again, no offense. I just think it’s best for the both of us if I do it.”
“Okay. Cool,” You agreed, deciding to let him have it. Your face still burned, though.
“You still have an important role, don’t worry. Presentation is worth 40%, so you’re still gonna have to put in work and present it accordingly.”
“I can do that.” You nodded, suddenly feeling like you were sitting before a full grown man rather than a teenage boy. You couldn’t help but ask: “How old are you?”
“19,” he mused, as if he knew what you were thinking. He didn’t even ask you why you asked, and instead returned his attention back to his phone screen. “You?”
“18,” you muttered, your eyes reconnecting to his hands like magnets.
You really wanted to compliment them but decided against it, being as you were no longer as confident with this situation. Sure, he deserves to know how beautiful his hands are but you’re weren’t going to be the one to say it. You were expecting a cheeky personality at most, just because it fits the mischievous bad boy bullshit you read about in teen fiction, but you were instead met with a blunt and mature persona that made you intimidated in a way that you’ve never experienced before. He almost seemed.. authoritative to you.
“I see you like my rings.” He smirked, eyes not even looking back up at you. You had spaced out whilst tracing the path of his veins again, and immediately cut your eyes down to your own phone, feigning innocence.
“Whatchu mean?”
“Everyone like my hands, for some reason. I see you’re no different.”
“I ain’t even looking at your hands. Maybe you’re just too conceded,” you shot back, leg nervously pouncing as he lifted his head up to peer at you.
“Really?” He sarcastically challenged, making your insides stir. He sat up straight and pulled his hands back under his desk. “So the gold rings didn’t even catch your eye?”
“Your rings are silver.” You said without even thinking, then straight up face-palmed when you caught yourself.
“Thought so.” He openly grinned, and the little notion caused butterflies to erupt in your tummy. He pulled his phone back out and still wore that playful grin of his as you bashfully held his gaze. “Now, if you think you can manage to tell the truth, what’s your phone number?”
It’s amazing looking back at those memories, because you’re now starting to think that maybe Jungkook just knew back then that you two were going to hit it off. He’s always seemed so sure of himself when it came to you, always knew what the next move was gonna be and never once sent mixed signals or struggled to express how he felt towards you. He’s the most straightforward person you know, so much that it’s almost unnatural at times. If he was ever bluffing about anything outside of being playful, you’ve never been able to call it.
But damn, are you madly in love with him. You guess his ability to always remain focused and blunt is perfect for a person like you. He keeps you moving... well, for the most part. He wants you to move back to South Korea with him, and although you know you’ll eventually give in, you’ve been trying to hold off on it for as long as you can.
It won’t be as easy for you as it was for him. Jungkook was already fluent in English when he came here, thanks to his mother’s bilingualism. He hardly even had an accent from how well adjusted he was to your language. You, however, don’t know a bit of Korean. For you to go there, it would impair you in almost every single way. You won’t be able to go anywhere without him. You won’t be able to read directions or road signs. You won’t be able to go out and eat or order off the menu if there isn’t any pictures. You won’t be able to work. You’ll have to adapt to a whole new culture and way of communication, just to properly function outside of your home without him at your side.
Which, brings along another point, you’ll be without any friends. You don’t want to live in a world where you can’t go out with Taehyung and Baley whenever you wanted. You’ll be lonely as hell and home sick, he’ll be your only source of humanly contact until you learn.
You’ve told yourself that if the two of you remain stable for one more year, then you’ll go. You are ready for a change, but if you could just get one more year of preparation, you’ll be ready to go. You’ll take that leap of faith with him.
“What is it, kitten?” He finally asked, the prolonged silence getting to him.
“Nothing,” you lied, but didn’t want to divulge. “How was your trip?”
“Nice, but I was bummed out the whole time.” He shot you a look that made you pout in apology, but continued. “I talked all about you to them, showed them pictures. Almost fucked up and showed my cousin your vagina.”
You choked on your salad, which made him laugh. “I told you to put those in your hidden folder.”
“There’s so many, I just haven’t taken the time to pick them all out. It’s okay though, they only saw your face. They all think very beautiful— especially my mom.”
Your smile grew at that, “Yeah?”
“Yeah. So does my grandmother and my aunts. They were passing my phone around more than the dishes.” He snorted to himself, “They were even more surprised to see how much I smiled in our selfies. Which... I should warn you, when you do finally see my parents house, don’t be surprised when you spot our photo booth pictures framed in the hall. My mom went feral when she saw how much of a simp I was being in those.”
“She printed those out?!” You almost cried.
“Yes, she did. She printed each one individually and framed them side-by-side.”
“Aw, Kookie. I should’ve just went. I’m so sorry.” You pouted, guilt causing your heart to sink.
“You weren’t ready, angel. They understood,” He assured you, leaning forward to take your hand in his. You suddenly wanted to cry again.
“But I promise to go next time. Or whenever you wanna take me. I swear, I’ll go.” You said in determination, and was a little thrown off by his reaction.
His face went blank for a moment c like his brain needed a second to buffer.
“You will?” He inquired, that being the first time you’ve actually agreed or expressed any type of want. “Why now?”
“Because it sounds like they really want to meet me, too? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. That’s great. I just figured you wouldn’t be moved by that. You really wanna go now?”
“Yeah. Your family sounds so nice.”
“Was that what kept you from coming?” He interrogated, and it’s clear that he genuinely had no faith in you ever entertaining the idea.. which was a little disheartening. You’ve never said you’d never want to go, you’ve always kept a window open for later. You not sure why he’s so surprised.
“No, not necessarily. I wasn’t ready to meet them but if they’re that excited to meet me, then.. of course it’ll make me want to meet them, too. And get a little taste of South Korea.”
“Alright, I’ll plan a trip,” he had to say with forced enthusiasm, which you bought as you kissed his lips. Inwardly, though, he was screaming. If all it fucking took was a little conviction by saying his family was nice, just to make you consider.. them maybe he wouldn’t have had to do what he just did.
Whatever. Extra insurance. He had to tell himself, and decided to retrain his thoughts back on you as he remembered something.
“I have a special surprise for you.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhm,” he stood up and walked over to his duffel, fishing around before pulling something out. “Close your eyes.”
You did as told, and waited about 10 seconds.
“Open.”
You almost shit yourself upon hearing the voice, then came closer to shitting yourself when you took in the familiar Ghostface mask that you seen in the movie Scream.
“WHUZZZUUHHH!” He drawled out while doing the cowabunga fingers, and you couldn’t help but laugh.
“Where the hell did you get that?”
“Halloween store. I got it in Korea.”
That was a lie. He’s had two of these masks for over two years, both of which he got from Party City here in America. He bought one to kill your mother in— the same one he just wore to kill your friends in— and the other one was meant for what he wanted to do now. He wanted to fuck you with it on. He’s not sure why, but why not? You might discover you have a mask kink.
“What the fuck is up with the voice?”
“Sexy, ain’t it?” He animatronically purred out, and it wasn’t until he fully stepped forward and began undoing his belt that you realized he was already shirtless.
Your eyes grew wide as you landed back in your chair, unable to decipher if this was a joke or not. You soon realized it wasn’t as he was now popping his button loose and unzipping his pants— his hardening dick print becoming more prominent.
“You’re not fucking me with that mask on,” you blurted out, sticking your foot out to stop him from advancing any closer.
“I’m fucking you with this mask on,” he argued, grabbing your ankle. “Consider it pay back for the time you refused to give me head unless I let you wear your Burger King crown.”
“No, Darth Vader.” You tried pulling your leg back but soon wound up almost getting drug out of your chair and onto the floor. Your unease soon turned into giggles and screams as wound up besting your play fight, his mask only coming off long enough to go down on you at the kitchen table.
And that’s what set the night off. You went from getting your pussy eaten at the dinner table to getting your throat wrecked on the living room couch. Then you were forced to watch yourself get rammed up against your body mirror in the bedroom, and now you’re bent up like a pretzel amongst your bed.
“Ah— GAH!” You grunted in struggle, finding it hard to cuss like you wanted being as a hand was firmly constricting your air supply. You watched the masked man above you as he heatedly fucked into you, his chain dangling above your face. Your ankles helplessly swayed around his shoulders with each brutal slap of his pelvis. Your face still stung from the actual slaps of his palms, causing you to flinch any time his hands moved. You noticed done time throughout all this that he was hellbent on making you look at that damn mask. You weren’t complaining, though. Just more-so concerned about how hot it must be under there.
But then he slowed down for a moment, trying not to cum again as he lowered his face to yours, and finally decided it was time it come off, being as you were ready for a kiss.
“T-Take that damn mask off—“
Wrong move.
He growled and ripped your hand away as you tried removing it yourself, and you were stunned by how much aggressive he became— more aggressive than he was already being, as if truly lashing out. He man-handled you, flipping you over and plunging back into you with way too much force. You yelped at the intrusion but could do nothing else as he pinned your hands behind your back, picking his speed right back up. He kept your hands locked in place with a single one of his own before clapping the other around your mouth, darkly chuckling at the fright on your face.
“I meant it when I said it’s staying on,” he rasped, pushing into you so deep that veins protruded from your neck in strain.
He couldn’t explain it— or maybe he could. But he felt extremely powerful when he wore this mask. It took him all of two rounds to finally admit to himself that it turned him on, knowing you were getting off to the very same face that your loved ones last looked at in sheer terror. He didn’t realize up until then that he somehow considered Ghostface as a different alternative to himself, one he was growing to like a little too much. It even made his dick more sensitive to the feel of you, making you seem tighter. And warmer. And sluttier.
He’s sure he began speaking Latin somewhere in the midst, but it wasn’t until he saw tears surfacing in your eyes that it dawned on him that his hand had somehow traveled up to cover your nose, as well as your mouth. A moment of panic shot through him when he dropped it and allowed you to breathe, thinking you were gonna make him stop. But much to his pleasant surprise, you only coughed out and mewled, head collapsing on the pillow as you pushed against him, a silent demand keep going. So he did. He made sure to keep the punishing pace up and running. Your body violently jolted with each slam, ass bone aching at the brutal impact. Each thrust was felt like a punch to your cervix and someway or another, you were okay with it.
Little did he know, it was actually because you didn’t want any type of deja vu happening. He fucked you in all the ways you liked the night before you found out that your mother was slaughtered inside your childhood home. You didn’t want tonight to be anything like it. So you let him hurt you.
If only you knew history was going to repeat itself, no matter what the two of you did.
It didn’t take but a few more strokes before he lost his ability to hold off, and emptied himself inside for the third time since he’s arrived back.
Once he did that, the blinds were illuminated in a dim grey, hinting at a sunrise. After a quick shower and clean up, the two of laid there, the mask finally gone.
“What are you thinking, baby?” Jungkook wondered, starring up at the ceiling. You haven’t said much of anything since that last bit. “Did I hurt you? Scare you?”
“No. I could take it.” You said, and it sounded genuine. But he still wanted to know what was on your mind. “I just don’t know what the hell I would do if I didn’t have you. You’re the only person I know that’s never even accidentally done wrong by me. You’ve been nothing but good.”
A void clouded his mind, emotional absence taking place of everything else. It’s a defense mechanism that he’s certain only comes up to block out any sense of guilt or remorse. He kept his gaze up at the ceiling, even as he felt you crane your neck back to look up at him.
“I love you, Kookie. Thank you for being here.”
“I love you too, baby,” he said numbly, those words being true... but his next words were not. “I could never imagine myself doing anything to hurt you.”
Being as he wasn’t planning on looking down, you crawled up for a moment just to kiss him, unbothered by the distant stare in his gaze. You then laid back down and got comfortable, readying yourself for a good days sleep.
“I think it’s finally time I start seeking happiness again, instead of contentment.”
That’s when it hit him. You didn’t notice how his heart cleaned beneath your head, nor was there any way you could feel the tension in his gut. He can’t say he feels full remorseful for what he did, because that would require him sympathizing for the innocent lives he’s taken away, with no rational reason. He simply didn’t feel anything for them. He was only concerned your pain, especially knowing it was unnecessary now. His trip to Korea was enough to motivate you to move on and consider a change of scenery. You didn’t need any fear to drive you out, you just needed time. God only knows how far of a set back this will be now. The fact that you’re laying here, currently thinking that life will only go up from here, when he knows damn good and well it’ll be in shambles again before the day ends..
He really needs to work on his impulses. Maybe homocide shouldn’t always be the first option he leans towards. It was just more fun that way.
But moments like this weren’t fun at all. He remembers how grueling it was last year, waking up with you at the sound of the doorbell going off. He remembers the grim look on the sheriffs face as he told them that they found your mother, dead. It was his arms that had to pick you up off the floor as you crumbled down and screamed, his ears that rung as he held you, not knowing how to console you. For the last year, it’s been his shoulder you’ve cried on, his company keeping you sane, his reassurance telling you that everything was going to be okay.... When it was his hands that caused every single bit of grieve all along.. and was about to cause even more.
So, he did the only thing he could do in that moment. He held you and mentally apologized, hoping that there was some way to telepathically tell you that you mean more to him than life itself, and that’s he’s so sorry for letting it drive him crazy at times. He’s still clinging to the original intention that you’ll say fuck it and flee with him, but he regrets going about it so recklessly.
You were fast asleep now, snoring even. He only hoped the discovery of the bodies would hold off long enough for you to get some much needed sleep. But it seems the universe was done working in his favor.
Those same, familiar knocks sounded off at the door, and he immediately ordered you to stay put as it woke you up.
“Probably just them checking up. Go back to sleep.” He whispered, assertively pushing your head back down and pulling on some sweats before going to the door.
It was the sheriff, same look on his face as last year.
“Sir?” Jungkook frowned, posing cluelessly.
The sheriff looked ghostly pale, like he was nauseated and on the verge of tears. Jungkook knew why but he had to act like it was a throw off.
“Sir..?” He repeated.
“Y’all’s friends.. Baley and Taehyung were found this morning.”
He had to stall and blink, as if he wasn’t catching on to the implications. The sheriff reluctantly continued.
“Baley was found, dead on arrival. Looks like the killer has returned.”
“Wh-What?” Jungkook stuttered, acting like he was bewildered. The sheriff’s next words, however, would spark a more genuine reaction.
“And Taehyung was found unconscious, but still alive.”
Jungkook’s veins ran colder than ever before, all mimicked emotions becoming sincere in that moment.
“Someone attempted to cut his throat, but aimed too high and cut his under jaw instead.”
Jungkook could only stare at the sheriff, probably just as pale in the face now.
“He’s in critical condition. Doctors don’t know if he’ll make it just yet, but there’s a fighting chance that he might.”
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shameless;
full masterlist
Pairings: biker!bucky x female!reader
Word count: 1,423
Warning: SMUT. sexy times, cuss words, oral sex (female receiving), fingering. (MUST BE 18+)
Summary: on a rainy monday night where bucky took you to the club, what could happen when there’s only the two of you and a few glasses of whiskey in between?
a/n: so i was thinking of writing another biker!bucky because it’s my favorite trope and i know that i have written another biker!bucky fic previously, so i was considering of turning it into a series of events kinda fic? just a compilation of domestic and adventurous one shots between biker!bucky and reader that take place in the same universe but different times... let me know in the comment if you’d be interested! as usual, likes & feedbacks are always appreciated. enjoy!
Your lips were swollen as Bucky had one hand on your hip and the other one with a fistful of your hair. You leaned back with your hands propping you up on the carom billiards table as Bucky shoved his tongue inside your mouth. He kissed you ferociously as if his life depended on it. Through every clashing teeth, tongues entangling, and tender nibbles, he conveyed his blazing infatuation for you and he was addicted to the spell that you had on him.
Bucky took you at the club that he owned, where The Howling Commandos biker gang liked to hang out every weekend. It was practically their nest and no one walked through that entrance undetected. Their vigilant eyes were always scanning every person who stepped foot on their territory.
It was a quiet Monday night where the club was customarily closed due to its employees and bartenders working extra harder on the weekends so Bucky thought they deserved a break. Not that many people visit the club on Mondays, anyway.
Bucky liked to take you on spontaneous dates and tonight, he took you to his favourite spot, where he found the most comfort other than in your arms as he once claimed, and that was his club. He initially planned to take you here for a quick drink and then he was planning to take you to a drive-in theatre, where his parents used to take him back when he was a kid.
But his plans were ruined the moment he heard the sounds of droplets of drizzle upon the roof that soon turned into a rainfall. You sat by the bar with Bucky by your side as you talked about whatever random topic that came into your mind. The club was partly dimmed and the thudding of the downpour was the only noise you could hear. You were clad in nothing more than a black shirt that exhibited your cleavage and a pair of ripped denim shorts and it was very challenging for Bucky to keep his hands off you.
After a few shots of whiskey, Bucky didn’t hold back when his primal instinct urged him to take you right there in the unoccupied club. So he slammed his lips to yours after you giggled incessantly like a child just like you would when you got a little tipsy and then he lifted you to the billiard table without detaching his mouth from yours.
That’s how you ended up here; with Bucky’s hands roaming all over your body as he groped your breast by reaching through under the hem of your shirt and he didn’t even bother trying to unclasp that bra off of your chest and just pushed aside the cup through the underband. You panted as Bucky dragged his tongue down your neck and nipped on your sensitive spot, marking you as his.
He loved watching you walk around with a cordial bruise especially on the areas where he knew you couldn’t cover. What can you say? Bucky was quite a possessive man. He’d fight anyone who even dared to think about you.
He fondled your hardened nipple as the cold air made it even more sensitive. His lips returned to yours after he was satisfied with purple mark and he pushed you on the surface, making you lie on it. He unbuttoned your jeans and slid them down along with your thong. You knew how spontaneous Bucky could be and you anticipated that something like this would happen so you’d always slip in a surprise that would provoke him even more.
This time, it’s your favourite mauve pink lace thong. Bucky was tempted to tear it off your hips but he knew just how much you loved your pretty underwears so he stopped doing that, not wanting to make you mad.
“But doll, I promise, I’ll buy you a new one.”
“It’s not the point, Bucky! The point is, they don’t sell the exact same item anymore.”
Bucky put them on the floor and started trailing up your leg with kisses as you both maintained eye contact. He was going slow because he knew it was agonizing to you and that sexy motherfucker lived to tease you. He nibbled on the inside of your thigh before he lifted your thighs on the table and spread them wide to give him more access. He pushed his head to your core and he licked a stripe on your bud. He feasted on your wetness as he moaned at the taste. It reverberated through your skin, causing your head to spin.
“Oh God, Bucky…” You bit your lip.
Without any warning, he inserted two fingers into your cunt and you arched your back, a loud moan escaped through your lips. He kept driving them in and out of you, scissoring you open for him. He curled his fingers to nudge on your G-spot, steering you to the edge as you released all over his fingers. He cleaned them off by licking them and you watched the erotic scene playing out above you.
Bucky kissed you once more with fervour and you could taste yourself on him. It was so sexy and you couldn’t wait any longer for him to give you more so you wrapped your legs around his waist and bucked your hips against his crotch. The friction was tantalizing.
He chuckled as he retreated an inch from your face, “patience, babygirl.”
Bastard. He loved riling you up and he loved seeing you in a dishevelled state. When you couldn’t hold back any longer and there was nothing else in your mind than his beautiful cock, it fueled his ego.
“Please, Bucky, I need you so bad… please.”
“You want me? You want me to fuck you like a whore that bad?”
“Yes, please!” you whined.
“Then beg. Beg like a good girl and tell me you’re mine.”
“Please, Bucky? I’m yours. All yours, just take me, please. I can’t- I need… I need to feel you.” You pleaded in between pants.
“That’s my girl.” He unbuttoned his jeans and pulled it down with his briefs as his hard cock wobbled with every motion that he made. He took off his leather jacket and placed it on the table next to you and then he lifted your legs up onto his shoulders and slammed his hard cock into you as you thrashed in pleasure and squealed, your warmth engulfing him. He didn’t waste any time in drawing himself out only to pummel himself back in full force. He impaled you as he shoved his fingers into your mouth, muting your shrieks.
You could feel his balls slapping against your buttcheeks that were dangling on the edge of the table as he rammed his cock into you relentlessly. You could feel him in your stomach as you felt your climax approaching. He accelerated his pace and you clenched around him. A few more hard, rapid thrusts and the coil in your abdomen erupted, making a mess all over Bucky’s cock.
Bucky was still chasing his release as he watched the expression on your face when you came undone, it was pornographically divine. His cock throbbed and he reached his own peak. He groaned as he released deep inside you, mumbling a few profanities under his breath.
You trembled beneath him, trying to regain control over your breathing. The familiar ache between your legs filled you with bliss. Bucky withdrew himself out and he watched his cum dribbling out of you. “So fucking perfect.” He muttered.
“Can’t believe we just did that…” Bucky helped you up as you sat half-naked on the baize.
“Have sex?” he scoffed.
“Defiled the pool table. The boys like to play here, it feels... weird.”
“Well, I own this place, doll. I can defile as many equipments as I please. Plus, nobody has to know what we just did, don’t they?”
You could only nod, still a little hazy from the offence you just committed.
“Now, let’s get out of here so we can have a quickie in the drive-in, yeah?”
You shook your head at your shamelessly perverted boyfriend. He was never one to keep it in his pants longer than fifteen minutes. You had lost count on how many public places he had fucked you at. He’d always tell you, “not my fault that you walk around looking that hot, is it? Can’t blame a guy for not getting enough of you, doll”
Lucky for him, you could never get enough of him either though.
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If filter Friday is still going on...How about headcannons of a full threesome with our delinquent squad of Tanaka and Nishinoya 🥵🥵
🥵🥵🥵 oh BABY that is ALLLLLL I have to say about that. Wait, no I have to add I would let these two DESTROY me. Also, is this really hcs? I’m going with no. Do I care? Also no.
Warnings: threesome, spitroasting, DP, anal, dirty talk, poly, barebacking, cum dump???
Hahaha holy shit I wrote the warnings before the actual hc HELP. This ones long. Please get out your holy water, you’re going to need it.
Man, you had the best boyfriends in the world.
And it had nothing to do with the fact that Tanaka was balls deep in your cunt while you choked on Nishinoya’s dick.
Okay well maybe that was a huge part of it.
Outside of the bedroom, they were the most endearing, caring, loving partners you could ever wish for.
But in the bedroom.
Jfc—insatiable, salacious demons that were not satisfied until every single hole of yours was brimming with cum.
“Come on, princess, I think you can take more of me.” Noya teases as he weaves his fingers through your hair, coercing you to swallow more of his cock down your throat.
“Shit, she tightened up real good. Do that again, Nishi.” Tanaka groans, hips stuttering as you clench down on his erection. Fuck, he was so fucking close.
“Oh yeah?” The libero muses. “Like it when I fuck your throat babe?” When you don’t respond, because you can’t, Noya rams his hips as far as he can into your face, holding his dick down your throat until you can’t breathe.
“Oh fuck, that’s it baby, milk my fucking cock.” Tanaka snarls through his grinding teeth as he glues his pelvis into your ass, emptying his load into your awaiting cunt.
At the same time, Noya’s spilling his own cum down your throat, not even remotely caring about the fact that your vision is becoming spotty because you can’t breathe.
Damn, you love your boyfriends.
Carefully, steadily, the two of the pull out, allowing tiny drips of their respective emissions to dribble out from your body.
But they are far from finished.
You slump against your guys’ shared, California king mattress, already exhausted from round one.
A throaty laugh leaves the libero as he scoops up your sweaty body closer to him, leaving your head in his lap next to his semi-erect cock.
While Tanaka gladly rested his own head on your ass like a pillow, angling down to slowly watch his cum trickle out of your pussy.
“Love you guys.” You mumble out when you finally find your voice once again.
“Stay awake, princess.” Tanaka warns, delivering a painless slap again the buttcheek he’s not laying on.
“You know we aren’t finished yet, babe.” Noya adds, one of his hands trailing to your free asscheek.
His middle finger is scooting dangerously close to your crack.
“C’mon, I’m tired,” you whine, “can’t we skip this part?” The boys simply let out a laugh.
“Not a chance! You’ve gotta have your fill of me too, baby. Look, I’m already hard again!” Noya denies you chance of getting sleep. Dammit.
After nudging Tanaka away, Nishinoya props himself up with a few pillows before settling you in his lap so he can grind his erection against your already cum-soaked cunt.
When you put up no fight, Noya slid home, wrapping his arms around your torso to hold your limp body in place. “God, even after Tanaka fucked you open you’re still so tight.”
“Get her ready for me, man, I’m gonna go look for the lube.” Temporarily, the spiker leaves you in the care of your shared boyfriend and best friend.
In accordance with his boyfriend’s wishes, Noya takes a moment to smear your juices over your anus, making sure to use a finger to start lubing the inside.
It used to bother you—anal is rather uncomfortable at first. But after months and months of taking these two bullheaded dicks, literally and figuratively, you found yourself rather enjoying being stuffed to the brim.
No matter how tired you were.
“You take us so well, [name].” Yuu praises, his free hand coming to brush your sweat-laden locks away from your face. “We love you so much.”
Noya’s sweet words are contradictory of the unsavory act of two of his fingers stretching out your asshole.
Tanaka returns, bottle of water-based lubricant in hand, slathering it up and down his hardened shaft while watching his partner spread the puckered hole.
“Ready, princess?” You gave a loose, numb nod before Tanaka carefully worked himself inside your back entrance.
Goddamn, no matter how many times the three of you did this, there was no better feeling than the two of you filling you up.
“Oh my fucking god!” You whined as you sink to the bottom of both of them.
“Shit, you’re so fucking tight, I’m gonna cum again.” Tanaka sinks his teeth into his swollen lips, trying his best to stave off his already building orgasm.
After granting them reprieve for a moment by staying still, Noya cautiously guides your hips up, allowing both of them to gawk at their slick covered cocks before sinking you back down.
They needed to you relax—and while you inherently comply, a part of you debates on continuing to clench down on them just so you can rest.
“Ready?” Tanaka asks, looking over at Noya, both of their eyes entirely blown out from the pleasure. The libero gives a nod before pulling your body flush to him.
The angle allows both of them to fuck into you with full force, the heads of their cock knocking into your throat.
How the fuck did you do this every day, you wonder as Tanaka’s punishing pace stretches out your anus even further.
“Oh god, I’m gonna cum again.” The spiker howls—he just can’t keep up today. Which lowkey you’re a little thankful for.
“Yeah? Fill her up, Tanaka. Fucking paint her ass white.” That ends him entirely—Noya’s voice was a weapon.
Tanaka’s hips pause against your ass as he cums, the excessive dripping over on to the libero’s drenched cock.
Though he’s still, Nishinoya is fucking you with renewed fervor until you’re screaming because Tanaka’s damn dick is still in you.
“Cum, baby.” The latter murmurs in hot breaths into your ear, holding you up while Noya adds to the messy mix in your cunt.
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Has riko or someone accidentally hit yoshiko’s balls, that it hurt so bad? What did they do?
On that note, I have kicked multiple people in the balls. On purpose and on accident. In 1st grade.
I wasn't allowed on the playground because of that.
--
"Hurt?! No! Its like a glimpse of hell!" Yoshiko screamed.
"Riri should NOT have so much power in her legs! I fucked a monster into creation!"
Yoshiko begins recounting the times she fucked Riko while she was standing, or in ridiculous positions.
"Eitherway, her kicks hurt like a buttcheek on a stick!"
--2 weeks ago...--
"Yooocchaan! Where did you put your condoms?!" Riko asked, digging under their bed from on top of it. She was bare naked, and her flower garden certainly was glistening a bit.
"Its down there, I swear! Thats where I last put it!" Yoshiko exclaimed, equally naked with a hard on, laying on the bed playing with Prelude, who entered their bedroom uninvited.
"I swear to God if Prelude ate them I will make you sleep on the damn couch!" Riko yelled, kicking her leg out as she tried to lean deeper under the bed, unfortunately hitting Yoshiko square in the d!ck.
Yoshiko howled in pain, jumping and causing Prelude to scamper off startled. She clutched her poor third limb in intense pain, tears forming in her eyes.
Riko jolted back up, turning around to Yoshiko and crawling over to her, "Y-Yocchan!! Are you okay?!!" She panicked, grabbing Yoshikos wrists and pulling them away from her swollen red member, which, was definitely not a good sign.
"N-nn Y-You think?!" She cried, shaking in pain.
"H-Hold on! I-I'll go get an icepack!!"
--
Yoshikos face was stuffed in Rikos breasts, her arms wrapped around the slim figure, while Rikos hand was below them, keeping the icepack in place.
"I-It hurts..." Yoshiko whimpered, shivering from the cold.
"Aw.. I'm sorry Yocchan... I didn't mean to..." Riko apologized guilty. She kissed the top of her head for forgiveness.
"Want me to make it feel better...?" Riko asked quietly, looking down at her love, who nodded.
She sighed, pulling the ice pack away from Yoshikos shaft, replacing it with her hand and gently stroking its length.
Yoshiko flinched from the sudden contact, whimpering silently in pain, Riko rubbed her head, noticing, to calm her.
Soon, Yoshiko was moaning quietly from Riko's hand, holding her tightly as Rikos hand began to pick up the pace, smacking her hand against her length.
Riko felt Yoshiko's lower limb twitch-- She was close.
"Does Yocchan feel good?" She asked, despite already knowing the answer.
"U-uhhuh..."
"Does it hurt still?"
Yoshiko shook her head, childishly.
"Want me to let go?"
"No..."
"Mkay, I'm gonna let go when you come, okay?"
Yoshiko nodded, breathing into Riko's chest.
Riko stroked faster, eliciting louder moans from Yoshiko.
"Is Yocchan gonna cum..?"
Yoshiko nodded quickly, clutching Riko in her arms as she drew to a close.
"Can Yocchan.. Cum for Riri? Please?"
Under Riko's spell, Yoshiko came into Riko's guilty hand, her sperm splattering onto her legs and sheets.
Riko rose her hand up, licking away at Yoshiko's cum eagerly.
"Does Yocchan feel better?"
"Mhm..."
"Ehehe... Thats good ♡"
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My Best friends Wedding chapter 1
A/N: So I’ve been carving some full fluff with Bucky – especially fluff with the fake dating trope!
Sooooo, here I am, writing one. I hope you guys will like it.
Let me know if you want to be added to a taglist or have a request!
Pairings: Bucky x reader, Steve x Peggy
Warnings: fluff, language
Take me to church
Bucky paced his apartment with the thick paper in his hand, constantly glancing down at it, back out the window and back again.
Damn it. He knew it would happen, it was Steve and Peggy after all, but weren’t completely ready for it – firstly, Dot was going to be there, which was a whole new bag of shit, and secondly, he didn’t have a girlfriend.
Which he had vehemently told Steve. And Peggy. And pretty much everyone else.
He was currently completely neck deep in shit, down shit-river without a paddle and any other way of saying it.
His front door opened, and the smell of Chinese streamed towards him – he quickly stuffed the invitation into his pocket and turned to the woman slamming the door shut behind her.
“Dude, you were right. The guy at the Chinese place totally has a crush on me. He legit gave me four extra springrolls without charge.” She smiled at him and set the Chinese down on the counter – she looked at him and furrowed her brows.
“Okay, what’s wrong?” she looked worried. Bucky cleared his throat and forced a smile.
“Nothing. Why do you think something is wrong?” She arched her right eyebrow with a disbelieving smile and crossed her arms.
“I’m asking, because your face looks like you’ve just seen a ghost, and because I’ve known you for a very long time, Buck, and I know when you done fucked up.”
She turned to the fridge and grabbed two beers and threw one at him, which he caught easily and opened.
She jumped on the countertop and took a sip.
“Spill it, Buck.”
He sighed and leaned against the wall behind him.
“So…. Remember Steve, Peggy and Dot?” she nodded.
“Well, after me and Dot broke up, I became the third wheel. Steve and Peggy kept asking me about my dating life, love life, one-night stand life and all that crap. Dot is apparently living her best life with her new boytoy, and the two assholes with pure hearts wants me to do the same.” He sipped his beer.
“So, I kinda got fed up with it… Like really fed up and I just sort of told them I was dating someone, and that I didn’t want to tell anymore because she was shy and all that…”
Y/N chuckled.
“You’ve really done fucked up!” he nodded.
“It wasn’t a problem really before now…” he pulled the invitation out of his pocket and handed it to her.
She quickly read it and looked at him.
“They’re getting married?” he nodded.
“And you’ve got a plus one.” He nodded again. She stared at him, before howling with laughter – Bucky rolled his eyes and scowled. It was easy for her to laugh, because she wasn’t involved – he, on the other hand, was going to show up to the wedding, dateless and very much alone, while Dot was going to be there and probably looking good. Fuck.
“Yeah, it’s real funny, doll. I’m going to be shamed, fully Game of Thrones-style, while my damn ex is going to be running around like a pretty, little princess.” He grumbled.
She wiped her eyes and snickered a little, before jumping down from the countertop and sauntering over to him, slamming the invitation to his chest.
“What do you mean? You’ve got a date.” He frowned and she rolled her eyes before pointing to herself.
“Me, you dingus.”
Bucky could feel his face turn white. No. anything but that.
Not that he didn’t love you or your company, but because he loved it too much. It wasn’t easy for him to keep your friendship, because all he wanted was to bury himself in you, and never come out. He had always been bad with words, and when he met you, it was so easy for him to talk. To be himself, snark and all.
Somewhere along the line, it just turned. It might have been that one time, you both went to the beach or it might have been the time, you licked whipped cream off his cheek, no matter what, he could not handle the idea of being so close to you for a full week, smelling you and pretending to be your boyfriend.
“Yo, Bucky back to main?” Y/N waved her hand in front of his face.
“What?” she sighed and smiled, that one crooked smile, that made his buttcheeks clench. In a good way. He never knew how to explain the feeling she gave him.
“I said, I’ll pretend to be your girlfriend. We’re so close anyway, and I finally have an excuse to wear something pretty.” She glared at her outfit, but Bucky didn’t understand why she didn’t think it was pretty. Black leggings, a hoodie and a tank top. It’s practical, which is Bucky’s favorite kind of outfit.
She looked at him with a soft smile and a raised hand.
“I hereby swear that I won’t make you embarrassed, I won’t get too drunk, I will make your ex jealous and I will save you from the shame of admitting you’ve been faking a relationship for the better part of a year, in front of your friends. We can always fake a break up later.” He smiled and smacked his hand against hers with a resounding smack and she grinned.
“Now we gotta think up a story.”
She grabbed a new beer and smiled at him.
Maybe this week could be better than he had hoped.
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To Hell For The Company
Seto was captivated by Bakura's gaze as he settled up higher, but the tail working its way between his thighs had Seto throwing his head back to moan, loudly. He squirmed and bucked against Bakura as the tailtip slipped between his buttcheeks, and his wings fluttered madly when the thick and firm tailtip pressed against his asshole.
He whined when the tail pulled away, clenching around it without success. The sight of Bakura sucking seductively on his tail made a little burst of energy escape him, and the way Bakura's tail rushed back between his thighs and slipped up his ass had Seto howling with pleasure and leaking fire.
Bakura's voice and the pause as he tossed his loincloth aside caught Seto's attention, and he laughed as he bucked his hips to push a little more of Bakura's tail up his ass.
"Ideally, hm?" Seto's eyes glittered with mischief, and a wide, very self-satisfied grin tugged at his lips. He settled his hands on Bakura's hips and gently, but firmly, pulled his hips away, leaving his armored cock swaying in the air between them.
Seto leaned in to kiss Bakura deeply, deeply, then whispered against his lips, voice thick with desire, "If you have faith, God will provide."
He pulled Bakura's hips back towards his, and Bakura's cock bumped into a thick patch of soft, fluffy down that had definitely not been there before. A long, slim cock with glowing blue swirls along its length stuck out from the feathery happy trail. Where the light struck the skin, it glittered, and a bead of blue precum leaked from its head.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
{Closed angel/demon AU antagoshipping RP between @yaminokura and @the-power-of-blue-eyes}
{Read from the beginning here}
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Frederick Chilton & The Abominable Present
Happy fan fic writer's day! I really hope to see something new from you soon! 😘
- @skittle479
It was wrapped up with a burgundy paper. A perfectly rectangular box adorned with a dark simple lace. Placed at the top of his desk. Frederick had noticed it as soon as he came in.
His office was just like he had left it the previous afternoon. The immaculate bookshelves, the dustless rugs and even the leather arm-chairs he had bid on an indecent amount of money were perfectly placed. Just as he asked for. Just as he liked.
His fountain pens were precisely situated the one to the other and a selection of his own books was displayed for tantalising eyes.
For sure, surviving as many horrendous attacks as he had and writing his experiences, feelings, and post-studies about his attackers, Dr.Chilton had made himself one of the most prestigious and rich writers of the decade. Everybody wanted to know about the Cannibal, the Crazy Doctor or The Dragon. He suddenly became sort of a hero. And he sort of a like it.
His scars were remarkable, inside and out. Even though doctors had made a great work with his skull partial reconstruction, providing him with prosthesis he could use daily, his skin was now a patchwork of different grafts and treatments. Some kids (and adults-thing that drove you mad-) couldn't help but stare at him.
Mentally, he had tried, he had really tried, and he kept fighting every day. The fact the men who almost got him killed were dead helped. But their ghosts still haunted him some nights.
Luckily, the paranoia had decreased over the months; and as the sun rose and fell each day, your man, the one you had fallen for, start to reappear.
Little gestures, like the one you had to do that day, were the ones that used to drove him crazy back in time.
Before taking a single step more inside his working space, Frederick rose his normal voice tone. Brandom, his secretary, answered him from the other room.
"Mrs. (Y/L/N) came in early this morning and left that for you, Dr."
The tension in his neck relaxed instantly. Just the mention of your name made him feel better. The thought of your dazzling presence in his workplace just to leave him what it seemed to be a gift was enough to draw on his face the biggest of the smiles.
Swiftly heading to his imperial style desk, he grabbed his phone to text you.
"You should have given it to me this morning"
A soft vibration alarmed you at work. Your heart had been running twice as fast as normal since you had decided to put that mischievous idea into action. Just by reading the text, you knew he hadn't opened the present yet. You were so impatient for that night you had even thought about telling you were sick at work.
But that was not how it used to be before. Not the rule games. You had to keep it cool.
"You're welcome, my love"
Another vibration.
"Don't be mad. A gift? Is it my bday?"
"You know it's not. Don't be rude and open the damn box, ok?"
In order to have access to the insides of the rectangular container, Dr.Chilton used the help of his personalised letter opener: a rare piece of silver and gems. Since his encounter with Francis Dolarhyde and the fire, he had had numerous surgeries and almost daily meetings with physiotherapists to bring back his full sensitivity and stimulation of several muscles, including a few fingers. Not wanting to make a -more than possible- mess with your -more than possibly perfect- present, he decided for the opener rather.
Inside the box, a dark velvet bag adorned with a small bow almost claimed to be opened. Once carefully opened, the doctor could just not believe his eyes.
He was calling you know.
'Hello, darling' you answered trying to flat your voice.
'Darling' the voice repeated from the speaker 'can you explain to me what kind of monstrosity is this?'
A triangular cloth with a bright animal pattern was now laying on his desk. Plus, it had a thick waistband was adorned with the word "BOO".
"It's a jockstrap!"
'I know it's a jockstrap, (Y/N)!' he looked at the piece of men underwear with uneasiness and the realised with terror that his door was still open. With dopey big steps that were assisted by his cane, he reached it and closed it loudly, barking he didn't want to be molested until he said the opposite.
'If you know what it is, then why ask, you silly?' after hearing him howl, you couldn't help to add how he should be more polite to the poor Brandom.
'Don't interrupt me!, I wasn't asking about the object, I was asking about the whole situation itself!' he stated wobbly 'Is this some kind of joke?'
'Oooh ,boo!' -maybe, you have been wrong? maybe it wasn't the time?- 'I'm so sorry! It's been a while since you and I started... doing stuff again you know? And you remember that time when I asked you about how you felt about starting our games again? Well, I thought you'd like a small game...
The other line stayed silence and you knew you had made a terrible mistake. An invisible hand punch your stomach and tears began to fall.
'Honey, I'm so sorry, maybe it's too soon... I'm so stupid..I-'
'Shut up, and tell me what do I have to do.'
What?
'What?'
'You heard me! I swear to God you are way worse than all those maniacs confined in Baltimore...I may not work there anymore' he lowered his voice' but I come to you every night and that's much of the same' he smile widened he heard you giggle 'the rules of your demented game, I demand them now!'
They were pretty simple: Frederick had to put his "lingerie" on and send you a picture with it modelling in his bureau. Afterwards, he would put back his designer clothes back on, leaving the jockstrap on the whole day, and send you bathroom pics every hour just to check.
A message came with a possible way of revenge came with every one of them and you aimed for the night like you hadn't in a few months.
During lunch-break though, Frederick sent you something that made you had to excuse you from your fellow coworkers and run to the bathroom to try and stop your laughter.
"I feel my buttcheeks touching each other. I like it, baby"
"I'm glad you do, boo"
"I maybe even get used to these things after all! It even says Boo! I can have one with your name on it!"
"That one was personalised, my babe"
"...how much was it?"
"...699$...but Boo letters are made in those crystals I love so much!"
"I can live without my buttcheeks touching"
Part 2??-I’m thinking of making a smutty sassy part 2, I don’t know... DON’T KNOW!
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Hey! You there! Over grown left buttcheek!!! Down here!! Read this shit!!
Look I ain't gonna be brief. I ain't saying sorry. And you can suck my ukulele if you're mad! You're probably full of emotions (mostly "wtf") if you've seen anything that was on here before I deleted everything that was on this blog that I tried to delete. As you can see lol... I didn't. It wasn't cause I changed my mind either! It was actually cause Tumblr wouldn't mcfricksalad let me... So before I start my thing again heres a grand "Thanks, asshole! You saved me!" to Tumblr. Thank you. You suck ass and don't listen to you users.. But thank you.
Anyways the whole reason shit on this blog had stuff happening was because I've been throwing huge fits over the interwebs as a cry for help. No one responded. Buuuut.... I decided to say fuck it and beat one of the dead fallen trees outside with its own broken off limb and now I feel a little better! I'm not mad, not even disappointed! But even if no one really helped, that's because no one could... We are all fucking messed up from the brain down. Thats why I'm here to say:
Fuck depression! Why can't we eat candy and junk food instead? Talk about our feelings. Have eachothers backs. Party until our souls heal and for some of us, respawn. Lets have a sleep over where we don't care what ya are but who you are, where you've been, and what you've seen. Lets all argue over who gets the last pizza slice and we'll all have a crab showdown where we click kitchen tongs aggressively to show dominance. T-poses and cringe the whole nine yards. Play kazoos until the neighborhood dogs howl to are mediocre tune. And when we all feel tired enough.... Circle around a single battery tealight "campfire" and go to sleep. Snugglers can snuggle. Non snugglers can rest easy. Insomniacs can at least lay back and listen peaceful to the sound of their earbuds playing music, or if no earbuds or headphones our snoring friends. And the light sleepers and insomniacs can move to a more comfy area where we laugh about nasal openers and pranks we can pull on the heavy sleepers that can also like pranks.
We all just exist. We all might be upset that we didnt grow up the way we wanted or that life was so much better as a child. That we shoulda been something by now or that life might get darker again... But atleast we have friends who we could chill with...
Atleast we'd all have eachother in some way.
From whereever you are... I just wanna say... I believe in you, you lovely banana cousins of greatness! We *will* feel better someday! Take it easy, love!
And watch out... Make sure you find something to hold that fucking happiness in because it might get too much to carry. Get some gallons and shit because its gonna be a trickle at first... But stuff builds up a lot quicker when theres been a drought of it for a long time. Trust me on that.... I've lived in a dessert before. We'll be swimming.
Stay Determined.
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Scary Costumes - Girls Gorgeous Ghost Toddler Costume
Theme Halloween Costumes
Ghost Costumes
Potential HauntsIf your little one was a friendly ghost, where would she haunt? There are so many fun potential places to spread the spook! She could haunt her school, writing on the chalkboard when everyone’s back is turned. And when the class turns around from story time “buttcheeks” is written in huge letters so everyone can see. That’s a great punchline, totally worth being a ghost. Or your little one could choose to haunt a theater. She could howl out “gross” during the kissing scenes while scattering popcorn all over the audience. That’ll teach them to watch romantic comedies! As you can see, there are plenty of places your kiddo can haunt but when it comes to what kind of ghost she might be, the answer is clear to us! She’d be a happy ghost. After all, when you’re a ghost you can get away with stirring up all the mischief you want so there’s no reason to be sad!Product Details & DesignThis simple ghost costume is a total upgrade from the classic sheet over the head. It’s Made-By-Us so you can rest assured it’s not the same ghost look everyone else will be wearing. The dress zips up the back and has a grinning ghost face on the front. The sleeves are flared, giving your child a haunted silhouette that she’ll love to play with. The hood is oversized, with a classic bump on the back. With style and grace, your toddler might want to haunt all over the placeStay Tombed! When you’re dressing your kiddo up for Halloween, it might be hard to decide on a look! This costume will look timeless on your Instagram feed while matching perfectly with the pumpkins, cats, and witches your little one might be trick-or-treating with. Who knows how many “oooh’s” and “aww’s” this little ghost will stir up this Halloween!
See Details & Get More Deals at: Best Halloween Costumes 2019 :: Shop
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I was tagged by @levis-buttcheeks
Relationship status: UHM... Obsessed with people who don’t like me! ((classified))
Lipstick or chapstick: WHAT!? ((Chapstick I guess))
Last movie I watched: What’s a movie? ((Howl’s Moving Castle))
Last song I listened to: Mikasa in the shower! That sounds stalker-y. ((3 Libras- A Perfect Circle))
Favorite shows: HUH? ((Attack on Titan, Dexter))
Favorite Characters: Me, Jean, Mikasa, Eren, Armin, Bertolt, Reiner, Ymir, Historia, Levi, Hanji, Erwin! ((Howl, Sasha, Jean, Eren, Calcifer, and Sophie))
I TAG @ackerme @tigerlilly2704 AND MY SUPER MEGA BEST FRIEND @jean-kirschtein-rants (you don’t gotta do it)
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Chapter 7: Investigations
It took six hours for the students of Fenhallow to discover the source of the screaming that night, and after that, the screams came again at least once a day with students venturing into woods beyond the sports fields to see the Fox.
Emery no longer jumped when she heard it. The next Wednesday, Joel, sitting opposite her in the window seat of the student council room, startled so badly he almost fell through the window. Lewis actually did fall out of his chair. Kris squeaked. Jacqueline slammed a hand down on the polished surface of the table, rattling her neat array of color-coded pens.
“Hypnos’s sweet left buttcheek, Emery, did you have to bring that thing back here?”
“It was a present for you, Jackie.”
In honesty, it was a pain in Emery’s ass. Half the students thought the Fox was the new best thing on campus, and gave Emery a big smile and thumbs up whenever they saw her. The other half—like Jacqueline—thought it was a destruction of campus atmosphere and a distraction from their studies, and got royally pissed off whenever the happy half of the student body praised her for it.
As far as she could tell, Wes only got the same treatment when he stood near her; when they were together seemed to be the only time anyone remembered that they were partners, and that Emery was no longer going out on missions alone. (“Once!” she snapped. “I went out alone once!”)
The worst part about the Fox, really, was having to remember how badly she’d failed every time she heard it scream.
Since then, their nightly missions had toned down a notch or six. Wes had a bullet list of locations around the Sleeping City exhibiting irregular Dream activity. It had been longer than Emery had feared. Painstakingly, they went through each location, speaking to anyone living nearby who would talk to them. Emery had known it would be a disaster before they began. Most people didn’t know anything. Some pretended they did. Others hurried Emery and Wes away, afraid what the neighbors would think of dreamhunters on the front step. Some didn’t know anything, but held them up with questions like, “I have this dream about my teeth falling out every night—does that mean a pair of dentures is going to manifest and come after me?” to which Emery replied, “No, it means you should see a shrink.”
She didn’t hate talking to people. She just hated talking to people who didn’t know anything.
Wes, on the other hand, had the patience of a saint. He continued talking long after useful information ceased, listened to stories that had nothing to do with nightmares, even helped one woman with a walker bring in her groceries. After a week of watching him, Emery could pinpoint the exact spot in each conversation where she would begin ripping her hair out.
“I don’t know how you do that,” she said after one foray into the suburbs on the west side of the city. “We have a mission. Shouldn’t we be trying to keep on track instead of rescuing kittens from trees?”
“Most of them don’t know what information they’re supposed to give us. I thought maybe, if they’re just telling us stories about their day-to-day life, they might reveal something we can use.”
“And that could take the next thirty years.”
“I never said it was going to be fast.”
School during the day was a reprieve from the new mundanity of the mission, and the hours between classes were a reprieve from the new insufferability of Emery’s classmates. She ate meals with Edgar and sometimes Joel, when their schedules matched up. Joel was always welcome because he didn't talk about class or student council or anything dreamhunter-related; he was perfectly okay listening to Edgar ramble about Westerns and late-night television, and when Edgar had to leave for class, Joel walked across campus with Emery. Sometimes to her next class or back to Kirkland. Sometimes in circles around the grounds until they found a good spot to make out.
She spent her free time in her dorm, in the student council room, or in one of the private study rooms in the library, looking for records of Sandman-related missions of the full-time dreamhunters. She hadn't yet been able to find anything in the records system, though she knew they were there. They'd probably been restricted to the highest access only, and Grandpa Al had finally changed his system password, so she couldn't sneak in under his account anymore. She hadn't even been able to figure out the names of the dreamhunters assigned to the Sandman mission. They would have leads. Anything they already knew would cut this remedial mission in half.
Without anything else to go on, she banked on Wes's idea of the Sandman using sleeping sand. When dreamhunters received nicknames, they weren't usually the most inventive--Marcia was known among the faculty and staff just as “the Amazon”—so it wasn't much of a stretch. Because of the ban on learning about sleeping sand, the library was devoid of information on it, so instead Emery prowled around the campus sleep research center, where they made the sleeping sand used by the clinic.
Lana Lupova, the head of the research center, was the one who found Emery skulking in an empty lab on the third floor, hunting for research notes in the computers there.
"Ah, Miss Ashworth. Can I help you with something?" Lana roved between the lab tables, her ring of keys jangling softly on the right arm of her motorized chair. Emery froze with her fingers over the keyboard, having just input yet another wrong password. Apparently, the research center had changed theirs, as well. Emery turned, lifting herself to sit on the table beside the computer in what she hoped looked like a nonchalant motion.
"Dr. Lupova, just who I was looking for!"
Lana made a noise of faint surprise, smiling, resting her chin on her fist. Emery cleared her throat. Facing off against people like Wes and Marcia, who got flustered or angry at the drop of a hat, was simple. They were always the first to make mistakes. But the few times Emery had ever tried to get information out of Lana, she'd received that cool stare and easy smile, and she'd felt so horrendously stupid and outclassed she'd left without a fight. Lana didn't have to speak; her expression said I am smarter than you, and I know it.
No backing down this time, though. "I've been really curious lately," Emery said, swinging her feet. "What can you tell me about sleeping sand?"
"Now Emery, you know I'm not allowed to do that." Lana came around the side of the desk. The labs were always kept a little cold, and today Lana's heavy shawl was an offensive shade of orange. "Although now you've got me curious about why you're curious. What's this for? An essay? Recreational drug use? Or maybe this remedial mission you've been sent on?"
“Remedial is a bit strong a word--"
"They won't teach it, so you're not writing an essay. And if you're getting into recreational drug use, Emery Ashworth, I'm going to have to have a word with your grandfather, and I don't think you want that. So, then, you're here because of the Sandman."
Emery paused, trying to find any hidden traps. "Yes. I--we--have a theory that he's called the Sandman because he uses sleeping sand."
"They didn't tell you much about him, did they?"
"No."
Lana sighed and adjusted the chopsticks in her neat blond bun. "I tell you this because I want you to be safe. Yes, he is most likely using sleeping sand to do...whatever it is he's doing." Her eyes flicked to the ceiling and back, as if the Sandman was an annoying student rather than a dangerous rogue dreamhunter that had several other dreamhunter teams out searching the city every night. "I'm sure your grandfather already told you this, but if you find him, you do not go near him, you understand? Sleeping sand, even in its smallest doses, is a dangerous substance. He knows how to use it, but there's no telling what type he'll be using, or how he'll react when another dreamhunter shows up to capture him."
"There are different types?"
"Emery."
"Got it, don't go near him."
"I don't like how you just said that."
"You're not that old--did you know him?"
"I know a lot of people," Lana said. "Now get out of here before I tell the dean you're sneaking around my labs. Otherwise I'll get you in here once a week for sleep studies."
"You wouldn't."
Lana smiled, showing her teeth. "Wouldn't what? Screw up your sleep cycle? Keep snooping around in here and find out."
Emery did not find out. She escaped the research center and headed for the Crossing, going over what she’d found. No hard records, but she did know now that there were different types of sleeping sand, and that even Lana was handing out warnings about the Sandman.
Lana had a reputation as the scariest person on campus. Marcia was intense, but there were rumors that Lana had found a way to capture and torture dreams in the labs. If she was warning Emery and Wes, then even she was worried about the Sandman. It wasn’t just Grandpa Al’s overprotectiveness, or Marcia trying to frighten them.
The sooner they found the Sandman, the sooner they could figure out who he was.
~
Only out of an extreme sense of guilt did she tell Wes what she'd found. It wasn't much, anyway, and it wasn't as if they were racing to solve the mystery of the Sandman's location. She knew if she didn't tell him, he'd find out from someone else that she'd been snooping around campus during the day, and then he'd just have that to use against her, too. If Grandpa Al knew, he'd deny her request for a new partner six ways from Sunday.
Wes didn't seem surprised to hear about it. She found him sitting on the edge of the soccer field before dinner, sweaty, waiting for a turn to get back into the game. The Wilmark Fox screamed in the woods beyond the field right before a group of students burst from the trees full-sprint, howling with laughter.
"We should try the north side," Emery said, after the screaming had stopped. "Up around the warehouses. If he needs a workshop to hide in, those would work the best. I know it's cliched and whatever, but it's probably cliched for a reason. He's not going to hide out in the suburbs."
"Okay." Wes turned back to the game.
"Okay?" She threw up her hands. "How about: 'Thanks, Emery, you didn't have to tell me anything, but I'm glad you did'? Or 'I'm super happy I have you on my side, you have all the good ideas'?"
Wes rolled his shoulder beneath his hand and glanced up at her. "Go away. Please."
The dismissal stung. She hadn’t thought it would, and that made it sting more.
“Whatever. I have homework to do.”
Emery turned to go, and found Ridley Jager stalking toward her from the softball field. Wes’s sister had his same coloring, the same wavy hair, but her eyes were light brown, not black. She was a year younger than them and about as big around as Emery’s pinkie finger; if not for that, seeing her move forward with so much furious intent on her face might have been terrifying.
Ridley stopped two feet away, face red, puffed up and ready to release some sort of reprimand. Emery cocked an eyebrow. She wondered if there was some block in Ridley’s sparkly fairytale nice girl brain that kept harsh words from coming out her mouth.
“What?”
Ridley pressed her lips together.
“Did you have anything to say, or were you just going to glare at me?”
Ridley’s nostrils flared. Her weapons, two identical, wicked hammers that reminded Emery of ice picks, swung as earrings from her ears.
Wes clambered to his feet behind Emery. “Rid, it’s fine, we were talking about the mission. Go back to your game.”
Ridley looked at him, then back at Emery. Finally, she said, “You’re a—a mean person.”
Now both of Emery’s eyebrows rose. “Mean? Well how dare I be—”
“You’re a mean person,” Ridley repeated, gaining confidence, “and you don’t deserve my brother as a partner. He’s so much better than you’ll ever be, and he doesn’t have to walk all over the people beneath him to make himself look good. Maybe he doesn’t have your grades, or parents who beat their Insanity Prime—”
“Ridley.” Wes grabbed her arm. Some of the other students posted on the sidelines of the soccer field were watching them now. “That’s enough. Come on.”
“But she’s…”
“No.”
Ridley relented, and Wes dragged her back to the main campus. Emery, aware of all the eyes on her, refused to also be moved away from the field, and planted herself in the bleachers, pretending to check her phone. When she was sure Wes and Ridley were gone and no one was looking at her anymore, she slid from her seat and fiddled with her Peacemakers on their charm bracelet around her wrist. She had planned to head back to Kirkland, but screaming had started in the woods again, and suddenly hunting a fox sounded like much more fun than dreamforming homework.
(Next time on The Children of Hypnos —> What Has Two Thumbs And A Whole Lot Of Sleeping Sand?)
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