! please remember, in order to participate in kinktober, you must be 18+ as there will be nsfw material involved. anyone not following these rules will be blocked!
✧ hello! it's that time of year again (: I did my first kinktober last year, and it was a success (and still is), except I never fully finished it ): I'm hoping this year will be different because I'm starting as early as feasibly possible. if you think you've seen this post already from another account, you're correct. that's my account, except it is currently shadowbanned. so, I made this new account and decided to redo this masterpost as I'll probably be posting kinktober here. also, the prompt list has been edited as 28.08.2023.
✧ here is the taglist form if you'd like to be tagged in my kinktober works! click meee!♥
✧ prompt list is below!
day one. cockwarming with: Cillian Murphy
day two. nipple play with: Jonathan Crane
day three. blood play with: Charlie Walker
day four. orgasm control with: Stu Macher
day five. praise kink with: Mickey Altieri
day six. degradation with: Jonathan Crane
day seven. bondage with: Billy Loomis
day eight. edging with: Ethan Landry
day nine. breeding kink with: Roman Bridger
day ten. mutual masturbation with: Austin Butler
day eleven. throat fucking with: Ethan Landry
day twelve. threesome with: Stu Macher/Billy Loomis
day thirteen. knife kink or gun kink with: Gun Kink/ Tommy Shelby
day fourteen. sex toys with: Cillian Murphy
day fifteen. hate sex with: Jonathan Crane
day sixteen. thigh riding with: Richie Kirsch
day seventeen. sex tape with: Roman Bridger
day eighteen. squirting with: Neil Lewis
day nineteen. public play with: Jackson Rippner
day twenty. voyeurism with: Ethan Landry
day twenty-one. corruption kink with: Jonathan Crane
day twenty-two. daddy kink with: Cillian Murphy
day twenty-three. spanking with: Austin!Elvis
day twenty-four. shower sex with: Mickey Altieri
day twenty-five. roleplay with: Austin Butler
day twenty-six. face sitting with: Raymond Leon
day twenty-seven. dom/sub with: Ethan Landry
day twenty-eight. drunk sex or high sex with: High Sex/Stu Macher
! please remember, in order to participate in kinktober, you must be 18+ as there will be nsfw material involved. anyone not following these rules will be blocked!
✧ hello! it's that time of year again (: I did my first kinktober last year, and it was a success (and still is), except I never fully finished it ): I'm hoping this year will be different because I'm starting as early as feasibly possible. if you think you've seen this post already from another account, you're correct. that's my account, except it is currently shadowbanned. so, I made this new account and decided to redo this masterpost as I'll probably be posting kinktober here. also, the prompt list has been edited as 28.08.2023.
✧ here is the taglist form if you'd like to be tagged in my kinktober works! click meee!♥
✧ prompt list is below!
day one. cockwarming with: Cillian Murphy
day two. nipple play with: Jonathan Crane
day three. blood play with: Charlie Walker
day four. orgasm control with: Stu Macher
day five. praise kink with: Mickey Altieri
day six. degradation with: Jonathan Crane
day seven. bondage with: Billy Loomis
day eight. edging with: Ethan Landry
day nine. breeding kink with: Roman Bridger
day ten. mutual masturbation with: Austin Butler
day eleven. throat fucking with: Ethan Landry
day twelve. threesome with: Stu Macher/Billy Loomis
day thirteen. knife kink or gun kink with: Gun Kink/ Tommy Shelby
day fourteen. sex toys with: Cillian Murphy
day fifteen. hate sex with: Jonathan Crane
day sixteen. thigh riding with: Richie Kirsch
day seventeen. sex tape with: Roman Bridger
day eighteen. squirting with: Neil Lewis
day nineteen. public play with: Jackson Rippner
day twenty. voyeurism with: Ethan Landry
day twenty-one. corruption kink with: Jonathan Crane
day twenty-two. daddy kink with: Cillian Murphy
day twenty-three. spanking with: Austin!Elvis
day twenty-four. shower sex with: Mickey Altieri
day twenty-five. roleplay with: Austin Butler
day twenty-six. face sitting with: Raymond Leon
day twenty-seven. dom/sub with: Ethan Landry
day twenty-eight. drunk sex or high sex with: High Sex/Stu Macher
it’s a random monday night and ethan came over to yours, to do his homework. you distract him, of course, and he ends up on the floor on his knees, painting your toenails for you. you’re sat at the edge of the bed, and ethan nervously take your left foot in his hand, his soft caresses making your spine tingle.
he’s almost halfway done with your first foot, when you decide to lay flat on the bed. he looks up at you as you do so, your crop top rising slightly, and he’s able to just see the bottom of your breasts. his face flushes a deep red, and he quickly looks away in embarrassment, and returns to painting your toes. he knows you can’t see him, though, and takes quick glances back up to your breasts every now and then.
you try to get comfortable at the awkward angle, and shift your upper body slight, causing your right foot to accidentally graze over ethan’s crotch. this causes his breath to audibly hitch.
“sorry!” you say, thinking you just hit his leg with your foot.
he takes a second to get himself together, and finally responds. “it’s okay..” he says lowly. another second passes by, and he mutters a “i didn’t mind” under his breath.
this causes you to lift yourself up on your elbows. “huh? what did you say?” you ask, genuinely not able to hear what the boy just said.
“oh- uh- uh… nothing. it’s not important.” he says quickly, and you notice how red his face is. you question it, but decide not to say anything out loud this time. you plop back down on the bed, and ethan watches as your upper half bounces, which makes your boobs bounce as well.
“christ,” he curses under his breath. you sit up quickly, and catch ethan staring at your tits. he returns back to painting your toes, not realizing that you had just caught him. you notice there’s a growing bulge in his gray sweatpants, and you can’t help but smirk. you lay back down on the bed while ethan continues.
you pick up your right foot again, this time, placing it directly on ethan’s bulge. his mouth opens, but doesn’t say anything, afraid you’ll realize what your doing and stop.
after a bit, and he still doesn’t say anything, you begin moving your foot back and forth on his now fully hard dick.
ethan seems to forget how to think. he doesn’t move, biting his lower lip and closing his eyes. the feeling of your foot is driving him wild from the bottom up, the feeling sending shudders down his spine. he doesn’t even bother trying to be subtle after a while. his face is flush and he’s starting to breathe heavily, trying in vain to think of the right words. his heart is pumping wildly in his chest, his body still going tingly and sending chills down his spine as little whines and moans come out of his mouth.
you lift your crop top up just a little, exposing your hard nipples to the cold air. this makes him fold even more. the poor boy is already so close, just the feeling of your foot and the sight of your bare chest is enough for him.
he feels paralyzed at this point, realizing he’s teetering on the edge of an orgasm. he begins to rock back and forth, in tandem with your foot. he can no longer hide his moans from you, starting to get loud, even though he’s so embarrassed.
“fuck, y/n… please…” he begs. you smirk, but don’t say anything, just adding more pressure with your foot.
“i’m.. im gonna… i’m gonna cum..” he says the last word harshly, still feeling so ashamed at the sinful act. “please.. i cant cum like this, y/n… please, baby..” the pet name makes your stomach drop, and arousal forms in your panties.
“it’s okay, e..” you sit up on your elbows. “i want you to cum in your pants, sweet boy… make a mess for mommy.”
he groans at that, and quickly reaches his high, rocking back and forth against your foot, his head shooting up to look at the ceiling, letting out soft “ah, ah, ahs” as he paints the inside of his boxers with thick cum. you instantly feel the wetness seep through, it showing up nicely on the gray he’s wearing. you smile sweetly at him.
once he returns back to earth, he looks back down at his pants, feeling so hot and humiliated, but he loved every second of it. he looks back up to your pretty face.
I have very few smut requests for Scream characters and I'm in that mood to write that... Please send more for Ethan and Billy (I can do Billy x reader x Stu too)
Warnings: 18+, boobs touching/sucking, Ethan being obsessed
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
—
It all started clicking one night you and Ethan were studying for finals. He was having difficulty concentrating, easily distracted by flipping his pen or even whistling, so you decided to give him a little bit of motivation.
‘’If you get five answers right, I’ll show you my boobs.’’
Automatically, Ethan’s eyes lowered to your boobs — still covered by your shirt — and bit the inside of his mouth to not moan.
‘’And if you get ten right,’’ you added, ‘’I’ll let you touch them.’’
His jaw almost dropped. There was no way you were being serious. No one ever made deals like that and honored their part of the deal — except in his late night fantasies.
‘’Y-you’re playing,’’ Ethan said, shifting on the bed, feeling himself harden just at the thought of your breasts.
You chuckled, shaking your head. ‘’I’m not. You helped me when I was struggling last semester, now it’s my turn to help you. Do we have a deal?’’
Seventeen minutes later, you put the pile of flashcards down and Ethan held his breath, knowing what was coming. He got five answers right. It was an understatement to say he was nervous, however he was also so excited — very excited.
You grabbed the bottom of your shirt and pulled it off, then unclasped your bra, nipples hardening from the cool air of the dorm.
Watched intently, Ethan let out a strangled moan, his eyes wide with wonder and staring directly at your chest. ‘’Holy fuck, those tits are so nice. Way better than what I imagined through your shirt,’’ he said, his blunt honesty making you laugh. ‘’Shit. Did I say that out loud?’’ His face flushed, embarrassed at himself. He really wanted to crawl into a hole and die right here.
‘’You did,’’ you confirmed. You gave Ethan a soft smile, pulling him out of his trance by placing your hand on his kneecap. ‘’Let’s not get distracted. If you want to touch, you gotta give me five more good answers. Remember?’’
Ethan nodded, shifting again to cover the slight tent in his pants. Controlling that part of his body was impossible. He took a deep breath and you hit him with the next question.
It was harder to concentrate this time, his eyes dropping back to your chest every three seconds, but he did it, successfully correctly answering five more flashcards.
‘’Can I touch them, now?’’ he asked shyly, his fingers tingling with excitement.
‘’Go for it.’’
That's exactly what he did. Ethan placed both of his hands over your boobs, covering them with his palms and splayed fingers like a kid discovering something for the first time. He squished them both, his fingers sinking into the softness of your breasts.
Ethan could feel his cock twitch slightly in his pants as he continued to feel you. ‘’Oh my god. Oh wow,’’ he said, breathing heavily. His finger tweaked your nipple, experimentally pinching at it and rolling it between his fingers, drawing out a soft gasp from you when he used more pressure than you were expecting. ‘’I could cum just from touching them—’’
‘’Ethan!’’ you gasped, shocked by his words.
His eyes snapped up and he mumbled apologies, but you just laughed.
dark dilf delinquent season cillian lusting after the new neighbors daughter; who not so coincidentally has a penchant for undressing with her curtains open 🫣 & sneaking in guys who kinda (definitely) maybe resemble cillian? from her club nights 😭
he’s dark & like kinda pathetic but we love him anyway
i feel like this is too specific but I can’t get the thought out of my head 🥲
it is very specific but I'm not mad, and I love writing a pervert <3 but a dilf AND a pervert?! yes please!! obviously I love this concept cause I went a liiiiitle overboard with it, oops...
length: 3.3k
warnings: m and f masturbation, voyeurism, slightly dark but not very much, unspecified age gap, infidelity
When it first started, he really was just trying to read. It wasn't his fault that the book was boring, or that your curtains were open, or that he caught a glance of you in your window.
It was innocent then, too— he liked watching you do normal things, like put on jewelry or laugh on the phone with a friend. It made him smile... he wasn't sure why, but it just made him feel a little better after a long day, seeing you up there, reminiscing on his younger days as he got a distant view of yours...
But it had been months since it started, and it was far from innocent now. He'd become an expert at compartmentalizing the shame; he'd become addicted to the cycle, to the watching and the waiting and the sick anticipation— not to mention the fear that someday, you'd notice him watching. The fear, and yet, the hope.
"Fuck," he panted under his breath as he wanked himself— not too fast yet, but certainly much faster than the slow and teasing strokes he liked to start off with. You were taking off your shirt, pulling it over your head and folding your arms in that crazy origami way girls do that he'd never totally understood; he bit his lip as his eyes dragged over your back, trying to imagine how it would feel to run his fingers up your spine until you arched it just right—
He heard the kids yell downstairs and he stopped for a second, heart pounding with nervousness as he feared they might come up and knock at the door. He used to only do this when they were gone... but he couldn't pass up an opportunity like this, a perfect view of you stripping in the window.
The noises stopped and his movements started again, fisting his cock with a stifled groan as you reached behind your back and undid the clasp; even having seen your tits probably a dozen times by now, his mouth was slack and dry in anticipation of you turning around and letting him see them again.
You teased him for a while longer, messing with your hair and stretching your arms up until he found himself mumbling between panting breaths: c'mon, baby, show me— lemme see, sweetheart, fuck, please...
Sort of like willing a stoplight to turn green, it's obviously not possible but it will work at some point: you turned and faced the window, your eyes shut with a sigh as you started to open your jeans. He had to grip his cock's leaking head tight just then, too overwhelmed with the view of your breasts— he was afraid to come too soon.
He'd never had to hold himself back like this before, never delayed his gratification— because, normally, it's totally antithetical to the point of masturbation. He only ever jerked off for the gratification, and he only ever watched porn to help get there a little faster... but you, you were so much better than porn. The thrill of doing something wrong, the longing of knowing you (if not very well) in real life, the lack of control over you and being, in a sense, at your mercy as you undressed as slow as you wanted... it was all just terribly erotic. And he refused to let himself come until you let him see a little more.
You slid your jeans down your legs and he actually bit his lip, just to muffle his moan. "Yes," he whispered to himself, cock pulsing in his grip as he watched you step out of them, turning around to lay them over your bed— and giving him the perfect view of your ass in those cute cotton panties as you did it. "Fuck," he grunted, twisting his hand over his tip and feeling his hips jerk instinctively— he couldn't think of the last time he was so sensitive. "See what you do to me?" he chuckled to himself— he wished you could see it, but then again, he had his lights off in the room for a reason. All you could see was a dark window, and for now, he preferred to keep it that way.
You laid back on your bed, looking relaxed and contented as you ran your hand down over yourself— fuck, is she about to--?
You slipped your hand into your panties, and he tilted his head back with a heavy sigh, only allowing himself a second to shut his eyes as his balls tightened up, threatening to blow it all right then and there. He'd never actually seen you touch yourself before— though he had seen you take a vibrator out of your bedside drawer and, infuriatingly, go to take a shower where you presumably got to use it with complete privacy. The image in his head had been plenty to get off on that night, but seeing you now as your fingers moved under the thin fabric, your lips opening for what he hoped was a quiet little moan? It was almost too much to bear.
You spread your legs a bit, the angle giving him a hint of a view of what you were doing; he sat up in the chair, leaning to the side a bit, desperate for a better look at how you were touching yourself. Were you just rubbing your clit, or were you going to put a finger or two inside? "Baby," he panted to himself, watching your tits get harder as your hand moved, "baby... y-yeah, just like that, fuck..."
The sight of you playing with yourself was just too beautiful; he had to keep reminding himself to shut his mouth so he wouldn’t make too much noise, but then it would just fall right back open again as you arched your back.
“Feels good?” he noticed, raking his gaze over every sign of your pleasure. “Tell me how good it feels…”
He wanted to imagine your voice, then, the way you’d respond to him: feels so good, Cill. You’d never actually called him that, you always called him Mr. Murphy. He tried not to acknowledge how much that turned him on, but anyways, he couldn’t conjure your voice in his head anyways. He hadn’t spoken to you in weeks, not since you’d babysat for him and his wife… he tried not to acknowledge how much that turned him on, either.
Seemingly out of nowhere, you took your hand out of your panties and expanded your cheeks with a big sigh; he knit his eyebrows together, watching you roll over and grab your phone off of the nightstand by your bed. His sicker side instantly assumed you were going to find some porn to watch, but your lackadaisical attitude about the whole thing made it seem more like you’d had a sudden mid-masturbation urge to check Instagram. Kids and their phones, he thought to himself, even though you were far from a kid— he was just much, much further from one than you were, is all…
And, this should come as no surprise by now… that turned him on too. He’d come to be weirdly fascinated by his own perversion, finding it just as shameful as he did sexy.
His phone vibrated on the desk and his screen lit up— he wasn't going to answer it at first, nothing was more important than watching you right now... but then it went off again. He looked at it and back at you, seeing you getting up suddenly and walking around the room... surely you hadn't come already? It certainly didn't look like it.
Even though he couldn't imagine why you'd stopped so abruptly, he figured it was a good opportunity to make sure the messages weren't important. He awkwardly got up and grabbed his phone, feeling a bit strange about walking around with his jeans open and his erection poking out. Unlocking his phone to read whatever was sent, he felt a massive sigh leave his chest as if the wind had been knocked out of him.
He never even saved your number, but he recognized the previous conversation you'd had-- just a few texts back and forth about a little backyard gathering your parents were having, and some question about when you needed to come over to watch the kids, but you usually messaged his wife about that kind of stuff. But since he’d committed those brief conversations to memory, it took him only a split-second to know it was you— and, obviously, seeing that you'd just texted him, he thought his heart might just stop right then. He had to blink some blurriness out of his vision to even read them, with how fast the damn thing was beating.
hi mr. murphy.
turn on the lamp on the desk.
He whipped his head around to look back at you, only to find you smiling around a bitten lower lip, staring right into his window. Fuck. Fuck!
He set his phone down, not sure what to do— and quickly locking the screen as he realized you’d probably seen the glow of it. He groaned softly again as he watched you sit down on your bed again, facing directly towards him, those pretty legs spreading nice and slow as your hand moved over your panties again. Fuck.
He felt like he was in a dream or something as he flipped on the lamp— maybe it was an out of body experience. If he was out of his own body, he at least knew whose he wanted to get into: he never took his eyes off you as he slowly walked back to his chair, sitting back down in it and meeting your half-lidded gaze as you tossed your phone away and used your free hand to toy with one of your hard nipples. “Fuck,” he said aloud this time, seeing your eyes trail down to his cock— it was still out, of course, sticking up proudly against the black shirt covering his stomach. Maybe it was proud, but he was a little bit terrified, his face getting hot as he snatched the throw pillow nearby to cover himself with; he saw you laugh, sighing through his nose dreamily as he wished he could hear the sweet sound of it, and then shake your head with a grin.
You stood up then, turning around and bending over as you ever-so-slowly pulled your panties down, making him purr as he got a thorough look at your bare ass. You looked too damn good bent over like that— what he would give to stand behind you, pushing your shoulders down with one hand as he gave that cute arse a good spank with the other—
He saw you looking back at him, a proud smirk on your face; “Dirty girl,” he scolded under his breath, watching you stand up straight and sit on the bed again.
Your legs were pressed tightly together, and when he look up to your eyes, he found them focusing on the pillow in his lap; you met his gaze again, a pink tongue darting gently over your lips. A silent promise: I’ll show you mine if you show me yours. With the way it made his heart pound and his palms clammy, he felt like a schoolboy all over again.
He grabbed the pillow and slowly moved it away, your legs opening at the same pace in perfect time with it; he groaned through a tight jaw as he stared at your pussy, one of your hands running down to spread the sticky lips even wider for him. “Fuck,” he moaned, holding onto his cock tightly again as he felt totally helpless to the sight of it, unable to look away. “So fuckin’ perfect,” he mumbled, starting to stroke himself as you bit your lip again and rubbed your clit with two fingers— the nails still had that baby pink polish, the one he’d watched you paint on a few nights ago. Why was something as simple as that so sexy?
Your mouth fell open, and your head tilted back; he tried to imagine how you’d sound, your sweet voice a little darker and deeper with pleasure. You rubbed yourself a little faster, a little harder, and he felt his lips curl into a sneer.
“Good girl, like that,” he panted, “play with it for me. Play with that cute little cunt— f-fuck, yes—”
You looked at him again, eyes glued to his cock, and he felt it flex in his grip as if it wanted to wave to you; he saw you smile, an oddly sweet smile for something so dirty, and he watched your fingers slide down to your tiny, seeping opening. He nodded in encouragement, watching your face fall into a shockingly innocent gasp as you slid a finger into yourself.
“Yes, baby,” he moaned, “y-yeah, s’it warm inside, sweetheart? Bet you’re so fucking tight, baby, I know your pussy is so goddamn tight—”
You pumped the single finger in and out, head falling back for a moment, and he squeezed his cock tight again to try to hold back another close call— he’d feel pretty stupid coming so fast with you watching, but he’d been doing this a lot longer than you had… fuck, how long had you known he was watching you?
Your mouth opened wider as you pushed another finger into yourself, and his hips shifted roughly in the chair, his hand moving faster as he growled. “Fuck, it’s not enough, is it?” he hissed. “Two little fingers isn’t enough— you need my cock, fuck, you need my fuckin’ cock— I’d fill you so good, sweetheart, I’d be so fuckin’ deep inside you—”
He was almost bucking up into his own hand now, his whole body suddenly pulsing with energy— it was a good thing you weren’t here now, even if he wanted it more than anything: he would’ve treated you awfully if he could’ve gotten his hands on you, fucking you hard and rough, tossing you around, pinning you down… he needed you so bad, he couldn’t imagine having the patience for anything but one of those nasty, fast, rough, animalistic fucks. He’d fucking ruin you right now, if he could.
You were rough about it, too— roughly pinching and tugging on your tits, roughly fucking yourself on your fingers… you even pulled your hand out and gave your clit a little smack at one point, and he choked on his loudest moan yet as your body jolted.
“Dirty fucking slut,” he growled, “fuck, come for me. Please, baby, I need to come, I need to fuckin’ come—”
You were saying something, obviously he couldn’t hear a damn word of it, but the shape of your lips made him pretty damn sure you were chanting over and over: yes, yes, yes—
“Come, baby,” he begged, knowing he couldn’t hold himself back much longer, “let me see— show me how you come, sweetheart, show me that pretty face when you come on your fucking fingers— soak them, honey, come for me—”
You were shaking all over, legs quivering and tits bouncing with the force of it— you pulled your fingers out and he could fucking see it, see that cute little hole flexing, and obviously he was done for pretty much instantly. He moaned roughly as hot ropes of come painted his shirt, rolled down his shaft and shaking fingers, one drop even finding its way down his balls which was sort of pleasantly ticklish…
You looked so gorgeous coming like that, your hand and pussy all shiny with your arousal, your eyes heavy and your lips swollen from all the biting… he blinked quickly as he tried to catch his breath, letting go of his slowly-softening cock and leaning back into the chair. You smiled at him; funny how, even now, that could make his heart skip. He watched you stand up and wiggle your fingers in a cute little wave at him as you approached the window, and his tired smile fell quickly when you reached for the curtains. “N-no, don’t go,” he pleaded softly, leaning forward as if he could stop you somehow, “please, wait—”
You slid them shut suddenly, and he whined a little as he fell back into the chair, running his (clean) hand over his face as he contemplated what he’d just done. When his phone vibrated again, he jumped up to grab it, but frowned in disappointment when he saw it was from his wife. Be home in a few, please come help with the groceries.
He tried to type a quick reply, only to grimace when he realized how filthy his hand was. He wiped it off on his shirt— but his shirt was filthy, too. Sighing, he set the phone down and took the whole thing off, balling it up to toss into the hamper, leaving him in just his undershirt.
Going straight back to his phone, he opened the conversation with you, praying to see that little grey bubble pop up or something; he started to type a few times, things like will I see you tomorrow? or come over next time the house is empty, but he always felt like an idiot and ended up erasing it. He didn’t get a chance to think of a good thing to send before he heard a car pulling up in the driveway. Shoving the phone in his pocket, he sighed and made his way downstairs, navigating around the pillow fort in the living room to get out the front door.
“Just help me with the bags in the boot, will you?” she asked him, not even looking at him, as she rifled through whatever was in the backseat. He opened it, sighing as he looked at them. Nothing like a bunch of brown bags to bring you back to reality.
His eyes widened when he heard his wife say your name, and he poked his head around the car to see you standing there, wearing a zip-up and leggings. “Good evening, Mrs. Murphy,” you smiled, and he figured he looked like a deer in the headlights— if a deer could hold a paper sack full of pasta and biscuits— as your gaze fell on him. “Hi, Mr. Murphy.”
He opened his mouth to try to respond, but nothing really came out; “Looks like you’re going for a run,” his wife noticed, saving him for the time being as your attention turned to her again.
“Yeah,” you nodded, “figured I could use some exercise.”
He cleared his throat, just a way to try to fight the lump forming in it, but it unintentionally caused both women to look at him again— once again, he found himself uselessly floundering for a response, and only getting out a soft ‘er’ before you said something.
“Aren’t you cold in just a t-shirt, Mr. Murphy?” you asked him, tilting your head.
“It’s fine,” he choked out, “I was feeling kind of hot anyway.”
You smiled at him, then waved goodbye to his wife as you pushed your earbuds in and continued walking down the street— you were acting so innocent that he started to feel like he’d dreamed up the whole thing.
She probably saw him staring, watching you jog down the sidewalk, that ass looking terribly familiar covered by the athletic leggings; but she didn’t say anything, only shutting the car boot to get his attention as he finally carried the paper sacks into the house. "She's sweet, isn't she?" she broke the moment of silence as they walked up the driveway together.
“I-I guess,” he tried to sound as non-committal as possible.
“You don’t think so?” she pressed, apparently noticing his cryptic answer.
“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “maybe she’s not as sweet as she looks.”
Are you a writer who can’t commit to 31 straight days of smutty fanfic?
Do you still want to contribute to the kinktober spirit and share your writing with your communities?
Then Lazy Ghouls’ Kinktober is for you!
FAQs below the cut :)
What is it?
Lazy Ghouls’ Kinktober is an abridged version of the traditional Kinktober prompt list. I made this prompt list because I love to write, but get afflicted by burnout and writers block easily, so I wanted to make something more accessible. Rather than committing to 31 separate fanfics, you’ll chose at least one prompt a week.
This list was specifically made to start tame and work up to more intense topics as the month progresses, while also avoiding major triggers such as noncon, CNC, and dubcon.
What if I want to write more than one fic a week?
Go for it! This prompt list was made to work for you! If you want to write all four prompts, or none at all, that’s A-OK.
How do I participate?
Just write! You could also repost this prompt list to spread the word, but that’s not required :) if you want, tag all of your works with #LazyGhoulsKinktober2023 so we can check out each others’ works!
I’m so excited to get writing and see what you guys can create! Please reach out with any questions or concerns!
This isn't meant to be a haha funny relatably upset post fyi. Like this is just straight up something I'm saying. People do not treat customer service employees like humans as much as they should. I've had a man hit me in the back with a bag of scented pinecones to get my attention to tell me he found them when I said I didn't know if they were sold out since I hadn't been at work in a week, that man months later was complaining about me to a coworker, he recognized me half a year later despite having completely changed my look and brought it up like it was funny. I've had a woman tell me to my face that I was useless because I didn't have an easy solution to finding a price on something before demanding i lift the giant, heavy tent into her cart for her despite being half her size, and she didn't even buy it. I've had people ask me to open a product that I am not allowed to open, only to do it right in front of me when I say its not allowed. I've had people laugh at me when I said I was the one who was assisting them with something and scream at me when I said I couldn't assist with something. I've had to uncomfortably chuckle along when someone makes a joke about how I should know everything in the store because I didn't know if they were genuinely just joking or not. People just shove past or into me, or keep pushing their cart at me when I dont even notice them, because they expect me to move. The most fucked up part? These people are always completely polite to me when I'm just another customer in the store. I've had someone who told me I should just quit my job while on the clock later politely say excuse me and talk about the weather when I was simply buying chips out of uniform. In the same god damn day. The list goes on and on and on. The fact is that even if you don't personally dehumanize a customer service employee, so many people DO.
This is ok to reblog btw, if you want to tell your own stories of experiences in a job like that go ahead. Just know that I'm sincerely sorry you had to or still have to deal with that stuff and you are so awesome for making it through that man
Warnings: 18+, minors dni. fluff, no use of y/n, friends to lovers, hurt/comfort if you squint really hard, Neil cries because of course
a/n: I'm a lil rusty y'all but I had to take matters into my own hands.
You were absolutely restless in bed. You had come home from the bar your friend Jonathan worked at, Balanza, after needing some liquid comfort and a close friend. He was one of four. Your little group was all you needed, but more recently it was feeling like three. You, Neil, Lucien, and Jonathan were basically inseparable as you all emerged into adulthood together. Now, you all found a little bit of community at Gumshoe Video, your and Neil’s video store. It wasn’t much but it was what you and Neil cared about the most. It was your baby, so to speak. Yet another thing that kept you and Neil stuck to each other’s sides.
Neil was special. He had gone through it all with you. When you were in high school together you both skipped school dances and watched movies all night long while getting drunk on whatever was close by. You had comforted each other through numerous breakups, spent many long nights taking care of each other when the other was sick, and now ran a video store together. Growing up, your parents would make jokes about how you would end up together. Neil thought that was the funniest thing ever. “What a cliche.”, Neil would say. You would always laugh and agree but deep down, there was a piece of you that resented his indifference. It was only natural that you both felt something for each other, right? Neil was your rock and you were his.
But nevertheless, Neil was seeing someone. At least you thought he was. It wasn’t totally clear what was going on, but you knew when he wasn’t at the video store he was running around with her. That left you, Lucien, and Jonathan to hold down the fort. This always happened when Neil got involved with a girl and it always left you feeling… odd. You never wanted to admit it but you had been in love with him for years. Brushing off that feeling was the only way you could disconnect.
This constant yearning was exhausting but you just wanted to see Neil happy. Only now, you couldn’t tell if he was happy. He had been a bit secretive about the girl he was seeing. If you knew Neil, he was in over his head. Whenever you saw him at the shop he seemed drained and a bit stressed, but he never stayed long. He’d say, “I’m gonna go in about an hour. We’re getting dinner tonight, I think?” I think, was the key phrase. His remarks were rooted in confusion. Maybe his status with this mystery girl wasn’t so solid. You had hoped, for his sake, something good would come out of this. You couldn’t bear to see him hurt again.
After some overthinking, you were finally getting a bit drowsy. Right as you were about to drift off your ringtone shocked you awake. You answered it before you could check the name and heard a familiar voice on the other line. “Hey”, Neil said. “Can I come over? I can’t sleep” The clock on your nightstand read 1:34 AM. “Yeah sure what’s u-“
He hung top on you and within a couple of seconds, there was a knock at the door.
You scurried out of bed and headed towards the door. You weren’t prepared for what met you on the other side of the door. It was Neil, of course, but he looked sad. His eyes were puffy and red. He looked like he had been crying for hours. He looked exhausted. It took you a second before you realized you had been staring. You moved to the side and silently gestured for him to come in.
He went right past you and towards the couch, face-planting into the cushions. He groaned and you stood over him for a moment before squatting down to his level. “Neil?” You heard a sniffle come from him and he turned to face you. Even now, he was just as gorgeous as every other time you saw him. Handsome in a classic sense. You fought every urge not to brush the hair away from his eyes but eventually, you gave in. You reached out and he closed his eyes after feeling your touch. “Neil, what’s going on?”
“Jonathan and I got into a fight. Well, not like a fight fight. We just argued a bit and I got pissed and left.”
You removed your hand from his face. That was the last thing you expected to hear. There was never any conflict in your friend group that went beyond friendly film debates, but you were waiting for the shoe to drop. You had spent your time at Balanza tonight blabbing to Jonathan about how annoying It was that Neil was never around whenever he started seeing someone. He pushed you about it you admitted it was because you had liked him for years. Jonathan laughed “Well no duh! I could smell that shit from a mile away. You guys already treat each other like you’re married.” And he was right. There were things you and Neil did that felt like you were married. Apart from movie nights, you had spent time cooking dinner for each other, taken a couple of trips together, and confided in each other about everything. Your bond was unbreakable.
You were thinking about what to say when Neil interrupted your fractured thought process.
“I was at Balanza tonight, thought I’d go in for a quick drink, you know? And I got to talkin’ with Jonathan and he mentioned how you had been there a bit before me and how I’d just missed you. I thought was weird because you always told me if you were going so we could go together. Plus you’d told me you were going straight home after closing up the store. But anyway, he started joking about you and me. I mean, what the fuck right?”
You briefly paused before responding, “What did he say about us exactly?”
Neil sat up before he began his story, gesturing as he began, “He made a quip asking where my ball and chain was and I said “What ball and chain?” and he said you. It kinda took me aback. And really annoyed me because you would never be a ball and chain, you know. And somehow he started going on about how I should maybe be a better friend.” Your heart sank. He continued, “He said I should be more “mindful” about our relationship and I thought what the fuck, you know. I know he doesn’t really have a way with words but, god, how cryptic. Who says that? Especially about us. We’re close, right? Super close! No one really gets it!” Subconsciously or not he now had your hand in his.
“Our friendship is special you know. It means the world to me and to have that questioned made me a bit upset. Then it really got me thinking. Have I not been paying attention to you lately? Then, I started thinking about all the things I’ve been doing recently. Spending time with you know who, which by the way isn’t happening anymore.”
In all honestly, you didn’t really know who. You’d only seen her a couple of times. You interrupted him, asking what he meant.
“I broke things off with her. She was, frankly, insane, and as fun as it was it was just that. Fun. Unsustainable. Unstable. Plus, I was barely meeting up with the group. Fewer movie nights. Less time at the store. Less time together. And I thought, fuck maybe I have been a shit friend. And now that I don’t have her in my life I feel like I can actually see clearly.”
He finally took a pause and looked you in the eyes. You were stunned. Neil was always a talker but it was rare he got this candid about his relationships. When you were younger, he’d tell you almost everything, but now he rarely ever spoke about his escapades and you were grateful for it. Just when you thought it was over, he continued.
“So, I was so fed up with Jonathan I didn’t even finish my beer. I just left. I got home and tried everything to shake the guilty feeling off of me but nothing worked. I did a- a cold shower and even made some tea. I tried to watch City Lights, but I couldn’t.”
That was your and Neil’s favorite film. You had watched it the first time when you stayed home from junior prom. You both started off by doing voices for the characters and by the end you were both touched by the film. Ever since then, that was the film you both watched when you couldn’t think of anything better for movie night. It became a ritual that wordlessly brought you closer.
“I got really restless and upset. So, I thought I would just call you.” He broke eye contact for a moment, and you could’ve sworn he looked at your lips before making eye contact again.
Your voice was light, “But you got here before you called.”
He shrugged, “I just got in the car and started driving.”
You chuckled at his response. “Well you know you’re always welcome.” He smiled at you before he let it falter. He seemed to hesitate before he continued talking. The shoe was about to drop.
“ I, ah. There was something I left out of the story.”
You swallowed before asking, “What?”
“Jonathan told me about… you and… Probably not everything but he told me.” It dropped.
There was a moment of silence as the tension between the two of you grew. Your world was crashing down. You’d have a word with Jonathan soon, call him a jackass for betraying your trust. You wanted to speak and deny everything, but nothing came out.
He spoke first. “How long?”
Without hesitation, you replied “Years.”
He sat back and ran his fingers through his hair. He muttered what you thought was fuck under his breath, but you preferred not to listen. All you could feel was the pain in your chest as you prepared to have your heart broken. Tears started to fall before you could stop them and a small whimper left you. He wiped your tears away and leaned forward again. You were now sitting on the ground as he sat over you on the couch. Neil felt a couple tears of his own begin to fall. You both sat for a moment. His silence made it hurt even more. You were ready for his rejection to slap you in the face. The sting would last long after, you thought. You heard him speak up softly, “So you… you feel it too?”
You hesitated, “Feel what exactly?”
He laughed at himself and clarified, “You know this, um, tugging feeling in your heart when it feels like it’s trying to tell you something.”
You avoided his gaze, “Yeah.”
You looked down at your hands. Your fingers were now interlaced with his. Space had closed between the two of you and it was getting hard to breathe. Your heart raced and you swore his did too. He brought his free hand to your face, resting it on your cheek. You looked down at it, foreign on your skin. You looked back at him and searched his face for any sign that this was some sick joke. All you found was sincerity. He was willing and ready to risk years of friendship on the off chance that you felt the same as he did. He unraveled his hand from yours and placed it softly on your neck as he pulled you in, careful not to make any sudden movements.
The kiss was soft, at first. As it deepened you placed your hand on his chest, not to push him away, but to feel if his heart was beating as fast as yours. It soon became breathless, both of you refusing to break for air. Your fingers ended up in his hair. You felt his tongue on your bottom lip. He was testing you and you gave in. It was feverish. You both moved in sync until, finally, you both pulled away to get some air. The room was spinning. You were kneeling after he had pulled you up. He pulled you up further and sat you down on the couch. He pulled you close to him and just held you, hoping to feel as close as possible to you. You both felt like you’d just won the lottery. He traced your arm with his fingers. You looked up at him and he was already looking at you. You slowly broke out into a smile and he did too. Soon enough you were both giggling and chuckling. It was pure bliss. He leaned in to give you another kiss. There was no testing the waters this time. He pulled away and looked into your eyes.
Summary - Your relationship with Jonathan Crane was one built on complication and cruelty, fostered by a toxicity that the man himself had warned you of.
Crane was a man of his word.
He warned you, back when he still wore the vaguest guise of humanity, that he was a difficult man. A man so married to his work that he would do anything to chase that ambition, to be the very best in comprehending and experimenting with the complexities and limita of humans and their fears.
“You promised to help me.”
A coatant affirmation which fostered a cruel guilt, one made all the more difficult due to how muddied your thoughts had grown over your time together. Some days your thoughts were fractured, pained anxiety shattering any chance of cohesion as your body followed its typical routine. Other days were clearer and, in those moments of terrible clarity, you peeped reality and the horror of it tore at your skin until the fog claimed you once more.
But even in those moments of clarity, no memory of such a promise stirred in your recollections, but you must have. He would never have done the things that he had otherwise.
Sometimes, he was kind.
The sting of his various needles would be chased quickly by chapped lips which worshipped at the site of injection as his poison coursed its way through your pulsing veins. Under his harsh restraints, you pulled and writhed against the horrors which assaulted you as soft words filtered through the terror – Crane’s thrilled tones declaring your suffering as something beautiful to watch.
Other times, he was cruel.
An unexpected plume of acrid smoke which stung at your eyes and burned the delicate lining of your throat as you dropped to the floor in a screaming pile. No soft words were spared for you then and in the hell which followed you often felt his body pinning your own; his hands freely exploring his little ongoing experiment until you passed out, unsure of what little mistake on your part had led to him feeling such a punishment was necessary.
But no matter what he did, no matter the cruelty or endurance test he put before you to test your mind and soul, you endured.
You were a survivor and he liked that about you, particularly as your body adapted and adjusted to his chemicals over time. What once induced paralytic terror now only sparked a terrible anxiety and as every dose provided less intense results, his scathing eyes lit up with manic glee. The prospect of getting to fine-tune his toxin, to improve on its hellish power, bringing him a joy that you clung on to as being the reason he needed you in the way you now needed him.
He would work, diligently and without rest, to bring you back to the horror which you suffered for him. For you both. It had been so long since you had known anything else that your muddled thoughts only made it easier to forget just how difficult a man he could be.
Omg I’m so happy you replied!! I definitely have more questions.
1. What Cillian character do you like writing about the most and why?
2. What story from your master list are you most proud of?
3. Do you personally have any fic recommendations/ must reads? Other sites included.
4. What gets you inspired to write? Following that question have you ever abandoned a fic?
5. What do you think made you a better writer? If you have any doubts about your work, how do you get past it enough to continue?
6. Is there a Cillian character that you just don’t like, or aren’t interested in watching/ writing about? (Sorry if that’s a loaded question)
omg thank u so much for this!!! i srsly love interacting w u guys, tysm for the thought provoking questions😄🙌
i think i like writing most about robert fischer:) ik it probably doesnt translate considering ive written most for jonathan crane but robert fischer is just such a little sweetheart to me,,, and can go both ways in being a sassy dom douchebag or being a sobbing daddy issues sub darling LOLLL i just think he has a lot of duality to delve into and develop (which ive definitely not done so far☠️) and it helps that his characterization in inception was also very surface level— i have a lot of wiggle room y’know??
i think im most proud of “dine & dash” which im aware probably no-one has read, but getting chris o’doyle’s sassy little dialogue down was like taming a wild beast,,, otherwise, considering my more well-known work, i rly liked writing “honey, i’m home”. i go crazy for the unhinged readers (if u couldnt alrdy tell lmaooo) and seeing jackson get messed with like that was a real treat.
i seriously just recommend anything by @mypoisonedvine,,, they’re literally genius & are the reason i started writing for cillian:)!! other mentions include kitten fics by @pictureinme and, a personal fave, @floralcyanidee’s jackson rippner mile-high club fic!!! these writers are all incredibly talented and im just blown away at their work every single time🫶
my thirst is such a big motivator for writing LMAO😭i wrote “guinea pig” ‘cus i wanted to absolute wreckkk jonathan crane and have him be a sub, and i got a 6.8k words long fic out of said thirst! music & book quotes motivate me a lot too— i spend sm time digging thru my pinterest for a good quote for the beginning of my fic its actually insane☠️and yes,,, im ashamed to say ive abandoned fics numerous times,,, but thats because they were series’, not oneshots. i get bored of series’ pretty quickly, ‘cause i feel kind of trapped by the initial dynamic or mood set in the first chapter. with oneshots, its like writing one long chapter of this trope and this kink or whatever and then its done, and i dont have to exhaust myself going back to tropes or kinks or storylines ive already done.
i think reading made me a better writer. expanding my vocabulary through the words of others was a biggie; seeing something be described in a certain way in someones story had me thinking of out-of-the-box ways to describe another thing (that doesn’t make much sense but lets pretend it does😭). i have many, many doubts about my work, like constantly, but i usually just suck it up. i sound like an attention whore but seeing the reposts & comments & tags on my other work reminds me people like what i’ve written before and certain people will enjoy what ive written now, so i should just finish my work for them. i also take like 100 years rereading my stuff until i think its good enough lmao,,,
ive kinda watched his whole roster of films (atleast ones i could actually find on the internet and not gone missing as a lost piece of media lmao) and i could probably write for any cillian character given i had a good idea and proper motivation. writing for certain characters is definitely harder for me to do though, so its likely i wont write for them/will take a long time to do so. an example is lenny miller— anna was such an insufferable movie to me, and lenny’s screentime wasn’t long at all, atleast not long enough for me to properly grasp his character. he just felt like a horny hardass fbi goof the whole time i could not take his 5’7 ass seriously😭cillian is smexy as hell in anna tho, so we’ll see😈another would probably be robert capa from sunshine,,, hes beautiful and deliciously musty in that but the whole spaceship setting kinda freaks me out (considering i know 0 zilch nada about space, spaceships, or anything of the sort, so it’d definitely be inaccurate). an au with him id definitely do, though! (with that hair of his my mind is already forming a 90s band au, guitarist!capa x singer!reader story…)
again thank u so much for these questions!! i feel like i rarely get to chat to u guys so this was well appreciated😄🫶thank you so much for reading, for sending these questions in, and for being an overall sweetheart, anon!
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