#HE SPLATTED MY FUCKING BOY.

[azuneekun]

all men do is lie

[kyonshi-8610]

i realizedd i have nt drawn mithrun befure

[ratatatastic]

"And to think we went this whole time without knowing these things"

[inkstriked]

( i support womens wrongs but i choose to believe that shes just so airheaded that she doesn't even realise she has a clownfish )

[luveline]

Hi! I was hoping you’d write a James or Remus fic, literally anything you want just make it super fluffy, thanks!

modern au, fem

"You have training in half an hour. What are you doing?" 

James looks up from his games console with a frown. "What?" 

"You have rugby training in half an hour, Jamie. You haven't had lunch or anything." You frown as he goes back to his game. "James, this is terrible time-keeping." 

"Sorry, I can't pause it! It's that thing. Just– fuck, two seconds my lovely beautiful darli– fuck me!" 

Curious, you creep around the bedroom to the side of the bed where he's sitting with a hunched back. "Oh. I never should've let you try. I've turned my gym mad boyfriend into a degenerate." 

You honestly believe that James should spend his time doing what makes him happiest (so long as he spends time with you, too), and for him that's rugby and weight training. They're not solely independent from one another, but they also don't always coincide, and so he spends a large majority of his time up and active. You spend some of that time active but more of it on different hobbies, including the games console. "How long have you been playing?" you ask, leaning down to stroke the thick wave of his hair from his forehead. 

"Just an hour while you were, uhm. What were you doing?" 

You kiss his forehead. "Meditating."

He laughs. "Wait, were you actually? I want to meditate with you." 

"I was doing the washing. Basically meditation if you try hard enough." He splats someone on the game, then a second person, a third in quick succession. "Are you better than me?" 

"No way, shortcake." He splats a fourth person with impressive dexterity, narrowly avoiding his own death. "I'm trying to get coins for you so you can buy that thing you want." 

James is better at the game than you, because of course he is. "I hate boys," you say decisively, kissing his forehead again. "Finish the game and get dressed, my love. I'll make you a roll to eat on the way." 

You steal a last fond kiss and he shouts sweet everythings down the stairs at you. "If my hands weren't busy!" he promises. 

You make him a sandwich and another to eat after practice and put them in a tupperware, knowing he'll scarf both in the car. It's fine, you'll just make him a third when he gets home. Time ticks on, training starts in twenty minutes, then ten. You hear the telltale sound of your avatar upstairs dying and snort to yourself. 

"James Potter!" you shout from the bottom of the stairs. "I need help!" 

There's a sudden thump and the tell-tale rush of him opening your bedroom door. "What?" he asks, coming down the stairs in a whirlwind. "What, lovely?" 

You pass him his kit and tupperware. "You're about to be late." 

"What a devious thing to do," he murmurs with a squint, though he gives you an appreciative sideways hug. "What would I do without you?"

"You'd probably have more muscles," you say. 

He kisses the soft skin under your eye as though this is the normal place for a kiss. "I think you're right. I got you enough for that thing, by the way. What was it? An aerospray?" 

He presses another kiss into the first.

You laugh and push him out the door before he gets too informed. 

[holidayinhell]

CWs: threats of noncon, gunplay

“Put your hands up, you piece of shit.”

“Now Whumpee--”

“Quiet.” Whumpee snapped. “I’m not fucking around.” 

Whumper took a step back, breaking his usual pattern of intimidation. He raised a brow inquisitively, his lips twitching to form an amused grin.

“Put your fucking hands up.” Whumpee repeated forcefully.

“Riiight…”

“Do it.” His grip tightened around the handle of the gun. “I'm not afraid to shoot you.”

“Really. You’re gonna kill me, Whumpee-boy?” The tall man half-chuckled. “That’ll be the day.”

The metallic click of the revolver’s hammer echoed in response.

Point taken.

“Ugh. You’re no fun.” Reluctantly, Whumper heeded Whumpee’s warning, sighing as he removed his hands from his oversized hoodie pocket, slowly lifting them above his head. For the first time during Whumpee’s captivity, his cruel smirk faltered.

“Give a coward a gun and suddenly they think they’re invincible.” The tall man grumbled under his breath. There was no way Whumpee would actually shoot him. He didn’t have the balls.

“Just shut up.”

“Ooh, scary.” Whumper taunted. He reeled his head back and spat in Whumpee’s direction, the wet splat landing only inches from the other's bare feet. 

Whumpee’s eyes flicked up to meet Whumper’s, blazing furiously.

He inched closer to Whumper with careful, measured steps, keeping the barrel of the gun leveled steadily at the monster's chest. 

“Woah woah woah. Easy tiger.” Whumper said playfully. He maintained the intense eye contact as he slowly lowered his hands back to his sides, palms facing out in a mock display of submission. 

“Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot!” He chuckled, tucking his hands back into the oversized hoodie pocket.

“This isn’t a joke.” Whumpee warned. “Put your fucking hands up, or I’ll make you.” 

“Naw.” The tall man said, drinking in Whumpee’s increasing agitation. His sadistic eyes glinted with challenge. “Guess you’ll have to make me.”

“I’ll end you right now. I mean it. Nothing would make me happier than watching you bleed out.” Whumpee clenched his jaw. “Killing you would be the easy route, though. Death is too good for you. It's not even a fraction of what you deserve. So for the last goddamn time, fucking listen to me.”

“Fucking listen to me,” Whumper repeated sarcastically, voice dripping with contempt. “You really know how to demand respect, Whumpee. I’m confused, are you gonna shoot me, or are ya gonna torture me? 'Cuz you’ve got me absolutely shitting my pants over here.”

Whumpee felt a surge of adrenaline, the weight of the confrontation pressing down on him as he struggled to maintain his composure.

“How ‘bout this, you trigger-happy little cunt,” Whumper said wickedly. “Give me the gun now, and I won’t fuck you with it later.”

The threat made Whumpee’s blood boil. 

That’s it. Time for Whumper to die. 

Without a moment’s hesitation, Whumpee took a step forward and planted the muzzle of the gun against Whumper’s temple. He squeezed the trigger. 

The hammer flicked forward, eliciting an empty click.

The gun didn’t fire.

Time froze. 

The dull sound echoed in the silence. 

Whumpee couldn’t hear anything other than his heart thundering in his chest. 

His wide eyes darted down to the revolver, disbelief written across his face. Panic flooded in.

A wide grin spread across Whumper’s chin as he removed a hand from his pocket. Six golden bullets rolled in the palm of his hand, glinting in the light. Whumper pinched one between his fingers, turning it over as he marveled at it.

“Surprised?”

With a flick of his wrist, he released the remaining five bullets from his palm. They cascaded to the concrete floor with five distinct clangs.

“If you’re gonna shoot someone, you might want to make sure the fucking gun is loaded.”

Whumpee froze in disbelief.

How could he have been so stupid?

He didn’t react when Whumper lunged at him, twisting the gun from his sweaty hands. He didn’t fight back when the cold metal smacked against his temple, heavy and sharp, sending him hurtling into the concrete, cracking his skull into the ground.

Everything went black. A trickle of blood flowed down his cheek.

Whumper towered over him, a victorious grin plastered across his face.

"I enjoyed your game, Whumpee. Let's play another."

He loaded the single bullet into the revolver, clicking the cylinder closed.

“You ever play Russian Roulette?”

((more Whump oneshots))

[ideas-scattered-dreams]

/ / REVENGE.

fandoms: Genshin impact AU!: imposter creator

imagine that... "kill them!", "this filthy sinner cannot be forgiven!", "how dare u impersonate our grace!" yells of hatred sparked from the mortals of teyvat. why did this happen to you. you were innocent, a mere player that loved genshin. You were shaking on your knees, bound to a damn statue that was similar to you, you had read hundreds of these imposter stories au type. laughed at some, angry at some, but in the true reality you were scared of this possibility to happen. When you first woke up in teyvat you just wanted to adventure and find out the true nature of your fav game, but alas that is what every imposter chasing begins... you ran from all of the different nations each and every minute u get the chance... but unfortunately for you. you have finally been captured by the damn anemo archon. A pair of shoes were Infront of you. the Geo archon... rex lapis stand Infront of you, he had the face of disgust. Ei the electro archon was besides him aswell as the anemo archon Barbatos. they were giving a speech on what will happen to you.. you were... gonna die. No... NO! you weren't gonna die! not yet! you still have a future, a goal, a dream! u cant die not now.. no no no no!! tears swell in your eyes, you cant... but you are now absolutely weak. You are just a mere mortal in the end of the day. "as the punishment by stealing our graces face you shall be beheaded!" venti announced loudly making the mortals and adepti cheer in excitement. didn't you fucking steal your friends face because u were to weak to protect them? and being fucking beheaded! you don't wanna be len kagamin every wednesday!

The shogun stood behind you, her Musou no Hitotachi ready to strike you down. "what are your final words imposter.." fuck fuck, you were really gonna die by dumbasses. you knew u were the creator really, but u didn't know how to control ur powers as u never had time to even relax and find out. but you knew... your child. teyvat was always by your side... they.. were always by your side!

You laughed startling everyone, they were silent as u continue to laugh louder and louder, "y-you" The shogun was shaking with rage how dare you laugh in this damn situation, are u... mocking the creator? tch. As the shogun striked down you shouted. "I WILL NEVER FORGIVE U ALL, I MAY BE FORGOTTEN AND FORGET, BUT NO MATTER WHAT MY CHILD WILL TAKE REVENGE FOR ME! MARK MY-" sliced. splat. thud. golden and starry blood splattered everywhere, to the statue, near some citizens and adepti, the two archons and most especially... the shogun.

Silence. your head rolled infront of the two archons, the archons had a shocked and terrified expression. "a..." screams arised from everyone, they just killed their creator! the archons were stuck in their place... then chaos.

Teyvat began to shake , the ground cracks and thunder struck on the place where u died. the statue of you glowed and came to life, gripping and taking the archons and throwing them all over the place, all elemental regisvine grew in the borders, monsters, hilichurls, abyss mages has began to run rampage and killing people.

all the dead Archons has arised and is taken to battle. Guizhong, the 4 yakshas, nameless bard... and all the dead characters has risen to torment and fight to avange your death.. their dear creator.. screams of terror, cries of sorrow and yelling of apologies, it was just pure chaos.

but.. in the spot on where you were killed, the statue of you was embracing two children.. a boy and a girl, they were sobbing as the statue of you began to crumble and turn to dust... "parent.... dont go..." you children sobbed, they embraced eachother as the chaos continued, you were sleeping in your bed. a dream? u were having a nightmare (name) but it is ok.. so dream away to not worry no more.

a/n: im still new to genshin and the imposter creator au, so sorry if some dont make sense

[jay-m3]

Eggcellent

Male reader insert Characters: Adam, Lucifer, Alastor, Valentino, and Vox Warning* Foul language

Ok, imagine giving them an egg. Like in those tiktoks where people give their dogs an egg to see if they will be gentle with it.

Adam

"Uh, what the hell do you want me to do with this?" Adam looks at the egg in his hand. An eyebrow raised in confusion as he rubs the egg with his thumb before looking over to you; who walks away.

"Babes?" You didn't even explain why, just placed the egg in his hand when he arrived home. With a snarl, he follows you in the kitchen, pocketing the egg in his robe.

The whole day, Adam didn't get an answer. Egg in his pocket which he sometimes smooths a thumb over it. Seeing that it is now bed time, he enters the bathroom where you were brushing your teeth. Through the mirror he narrows his eyes before a flash of a grin spreads on his face.

"What the fuck Adam!" You screech when the eggs' yolk runs down your face when Adam smashes it on the top of your head.

"Ha! That's what you get bitch! Hahaha!"

Lucifer

"Uh...want me to make you eggs?" Lucifer chuckles out, looking down at the egg that was placed in his hand. When he looks up, you shrug as a response before leaving him in his office.

Narrowing his eyes at the egg, he gently places it on his desk, away from the duck that he was creating before you walked in. It was a little late to eat just eggs (it was 9pm) and has seen you in pj's so that means you were now heading to bed.

Over night, he stays up to finish his project. Eyes drifting to the egg every so often. Everytime he does, the memory of you just pops in from the random encounter. How funny.

"Awe, Lucifer." You smile as a plate of eggs is set infront of you as you sit up from bed. The egg that you gave him on the side, fully intact with a smiling duck face painted on it.

"Good morning, handsome."

Alastor

"Dear?" He questions as the egg is placed in his hand. Without much of a goodbye, you rush off. With an eye twitch, he places it down on his table.

He stares at if for a couple of minutes, sipping at his tea as he tries to make out what is your intention. He hasn't done anything wrong...unless it's your communication of wanting dinner with something with an egg in it? With that idea and only solution of just giving him a fucking egg, he darts off to the kitchen.

"What the hell, Alastor." You say in shock once you see one of Sir Pentious's egg boy tied up in the middle of the table on a platter.

"Please save me nice man!"

Valentino

"What's this?" Valentino questions as you hand him the egg. He examines it closely, wondering if it's a vibe that was shaped as an egg. Those things have been selling well. But as he examines it closer, it's just a regular plain stupid egg.

With a frown he looks up to find you gone. How rude. With a displeased sigh, he takes a gulp from his cocktail that he was trying before you interrupted.

"Kitty, give me my usual." Valentino grumbles out, watching as the robot quickly takes the drink that was placed down to replace it. Sighing, he remembers the egg in his hand.

"Fucking bitch." He grumbles out as he let's the egg slip from his hand and splat on the ground.

Vox

"Bye hot stuff." Vox says before rushing out the door. He was on a call, distracted as he grabs his stuff from your hand which you thankfully gathered for him. He is so going to reward you tonight.

"What the fuck?" He says once he notices the egg in the cup holder of his car after he finishes up the call. He picks it up, examining it. How the hell did the egg end up there? Why did you give him an egg?

"Hey Valerie, call Lover boy." The sound of a ping rings out the car as it starts to call you. After a few seconds, it goes to voice mail. Rolling his eyes, he calls again. As he waits, he lowers his windows to get some fresh air.

"Don't cut me off!" Vox yells out to the car that swerves in his lane. Having none of it (especially not wanting to damage his sport car), he speeds up next to the car and throw the egg at it.

"Hello?"

"We need to buy more eggs."

[blouisparadise]

Here are some amazing bottom Louis fics that were posted or completed during the month of June. We really hope you enjoy this list. Happy reading!

1) Library of Kloetomlinson Fics | Various Ratings | Various Word Counts

This user uploaded 35 bottom Louis fics to AO3 in the month of June, so rather than adding them each individually, we've linked to their account here.

2) Fiction, Future & Predictions | General Audiences | 2,692 words

“It had been a warm Sunday morning when Harry went for his stroll.”

3) Not The Chocolate Mousse | Explicit | 3,537 words

“A salad will do you better than a pizza. Drink some juice while you’re at it,” Harry said with a smirk. Louis groaned, he was not in the mood for Harry being his typical self. “Just let me use the oven,” Louis whined. “Nope!” Harry said with a grin. “You stupid, fucking twat,” Louis mumbled while turning his back to Harry and opening the fridge door to see if there was anything else in there to eat. As he took a look he heard a splat and felt something wet and cold on his neck. When he turned around he saw Harry with the spatula in the air. He had just flung cake batter at Louis. “What the fuck are you doing?” Louis asked, surprised.

4) Pleasure in the Dark | Explicit |3,673 words

“You feel delicious. So pretty and so tiny I could break you.” The talk of size difference is making Louis squirt once more. Louis stands at 5ft whilst the Beasts in front is at least at 8ft. Louis holds no comparison.”

5) Take My Hand, Dumbass | General Audiences | 5,914 words

There's only alpha dorms at university, and Louis Tomlinson, omega, refuses to pay the exorbitant fees to live off campus. So, four years pretending to be an alpha it is! That'll be easy. And maybe it would be easy, if not for the depri and the annoying alpha roommate and the fact that Louis is, honestly, a bit too stubborn for his own good.

6) Couldn't Forget You If I Tried | Explicit | 7,064 words

“What if he’s ugly?” Zayn leans in the doorway to the living room, raising an eyebrow and fixing Louis with a perplexed gaze. “Then you’ll call me and get me out of it,” Louis attempts a shrug as best as he can with the couch cushions laid out around him. Louis smirks, “I’m going to text him back.” Louis sits up, his eyebrows pull together, and he crafts a perfectly worded text back to the mysterious man he’s been texting with vaguely throughout the week. He writes: "7 is perfect. See you then. x" “I’m not bailing you out of this one. If he’s ugly and boring and terrible you’re just going to have to deal with it,” Zayn shakes his head and crosses his arms, his signal that the conversation is well and truly done. Louis doesn’t mind. He’s got a date.

7) Little Love | Not Rated | 8,741 words

Written for the Omegaverse fic fest for prompt: 205. L & H are FBI/CIA/MI6/whatever agents and best friends. L goes on a mission without H (they’re partners, so they usually go together) and he doesn’t return. 2 yrs later he returns to the agency after escaping from wherever he was (maybe he was kidnapped, experimented on, etc., can be up to the author!). H tries to get L to talk about why he was gone/what he went through, but L isn’t ready. They continue to go on missions, but L is falling apart. Maybe he’s having nightmares, flashbacks, etc. Whoever held L captive ends up finding him again and takes him back. He either escapes again or H finds him. The author can obviously add stuff! This is more like an outline, maybe? Preferably omega L & alpha H, but ultimately up to author. Would love to see the other boys in it too, but that’s up to the author as well!

8) Louis and the Very Terrible, No Good Sleep | Explicit | 1046 words

Louis had always been used to sleeping in a puppy pile back home. It was something that just happened, with all of his siblings being omegas, they just ended up in a giant nest all together, and Louis loved to cuddle in the warmth, and breathe in the familiar scent of home. He hadn’t thought much about it when, after graduating from the local uni, he got a job offer in Brighton and had to leave the family den.

9) мое солнце | Mature | 12,809 words

Harry has committed many crimes and sins, but when judgment day comes the first thing God will charge him for is touching his lost angel, his sweet Louis. But who can judge him? Louis would make any man fall for him, he has whoever he wants and he wanted Harry. When Harry laid hands on that body for the first time, he knew there would be no turning back, no matter the price he paid to God, now that omega was his private angel.

10) You Just Be Yourself | Not Rated | 13,168 words

“Thanks, Mom.” Louis’ breath was knocked right out of him at those words, and Grey froze. They then immediately pulled out of Louis’ arms and scurried out of sight before either Harry or Louis could respond. “Shit,” Harry cursed quietly, looking between Louis and where Grey had disappeared. “I…” Louis blinked and looked down at the boxes still scattered on the floor. By the time he had gathered them back up, Harry was also gone.

11) The Rulers of the Underworld | Not Rated | 13,716 words

Louis and Harry are enemies. It‘s as simple as that. After Harry‘s Dad, the Mafia Boss of England dies, Harry has to take over and the Tomlinsons, the Mafia of Germany, want to take advantage of that. What will happen? Will Louis Tomlinson successfully take over the Mafia of England? Will the two enemies fall in love or will they end up killing the most important thing of the other?

12) Back Where We Belong | Not Rated | 15,660 words

An exes to lover university!au where louis did not know how to express his concern in the relationship and harry did not know his omega was feeling this way.

13) We Chase The Stars To Lose Our Shadow | Explicit | 15,962 words

“I think it may be time for you to try something… different.” Louis fidgets on his sofa, nervous. “What - what do you have in mind? A new medication?” He is less than enthused about being forced onto another medication. He has already tried most of them, to no avail, and the cocktail of prescriptions he is currently taking has been very expensive, even after using his drug benefit copay for each refill. “Sort of…. Louis, have you heard of Prescription Pillows?”

14) Frightened By The Bite, No Harsher Than The Bark | Teen & Up | 21,611 words

Louis loves going to the barricade during his shows. If it’s because he’s got a bit (lot) of touch deprivation and is using it as an excuse to have his big alpha bodyguard, Harry, touch him, well, that’s a secret he doesn’t need to tell.

15) Scarred | Explicit | 23,284 words

As a male omega, Louis has learned to live with disappointment and rejection, but he dreams of the day he finds his soulmate. When Harry inadvertently rejects him as his soulmate, Harry has no idea he's doomed Louis to a slow, painful death. Pride doesn't keep Louis from telling Harry the truth. But love does.

16) On A Starlit Night | Mature | 24,175 words

“Then… then, what is your motive?” “Must I have one?” Louis scoffed. “What, so am I to believe you just woke up one day and thought ‘Yeah actually, I would like to be one of the suitors of my pack Luna’s ceremony’?” “There’s no motive, nothing like you’re thinking,” Harry replied, glancing at him. “I don’t know what the alphas out there want. I just want a chance to show that I can be a good alpha that can fulfil your needs, both as your mate as well as in supporting you in your Luna duties. Just a chance to show you how well I could care for you, if you were to pick me.” Louis was floored by his sincerity. “That’s all you want? Just that?” Just me? “Yeah.”

17) The Mountain Between Us | Not Rated | 52,221 words

Harry is a surgeon and stranded at Salt Lake City International Airport. He is to perform a surgery in fourteen hours in Boston. Louis is a journalist and stranded at Salt Lake City International Airport. He is to be married in ten hours. They decide to charter a private airplane to Denver, where they will get on their respective flights and part ways. Or so they thought.

18) Stranded | Teen & Up | 66,970 words

What happens if one of the biggest boybands of the world suddenly strand on a lost island and there is no escape? What if Ex-lovers are left alone on this island and some deep secrets come out?

19) The Cottage | Explicit | 70,600 words

Louis hates alphas and he has good reason to, but when his beloved omega grandmother dies, and he inherits her cottage, he meets Harry, an alpha hazelnut farmer who sneaks his way into Louis’ life. While Louis struggles with his severe touch deprivation, he forms a friendship with Harry that turns out to be exactly what he needed.

20) When She Loves (The Larry Version So It's Better) | Explicit | 103,873 words

The most brutal don in the city has a weakness: me. I never wanted the life my parents tried to force on me, so I vowed I'd never marry a mobster. Yet here I am, walking down the aisle toward mobster of the century, all to save my sister. Harry Styles....

21) The Pirate's Prince | Not Rated | 110,521 words

Louis William Tomlinson, Prince of England, future Omega to the soon-to-be King of France. Sailing out to his new home, the royal ship is ambushed by pirates. At first the omega is not happy with the situation, but he soon may realise that this is exactly what he needs.

22) I Thought We Were Forever | Mature | 235,556 words

“I need time alone from you.” Louis’ heart skipped a beat. That he had not seen coming. “From me?” his voice shook. Harry nodded, another tear rolling down his cheek. “I don’t understand, H.” “It’s-” “You want to go on holidays on your own or something?” frowned Louis, so very confused. A long silence settled. “Look, there’s no easy way to say this.” murmured Harry and he looked so in pain. “I like someone else. Like Like like. At least I think I do. I’m not sure. That’s why I need time alone.”

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.

[trashmouth-richie]

Series summary: Hawkins Annual Halloween Festival is in town, and this year you and your friends were lucky enough to work the event. But when some of your co-workers are missing, and a trail of blood leads to the woods behind the festival. Your friends work together to find out what’s going on. A killer is on the loose but who could it be? Or is it the town’s spooky secret of what really happened at Hawkins Lab?

ch 1: FLICKER

ch 2: A SCREAM AND A SLICE

ch 3: THE ROCKSTAR AND THR REDLIGHTS

chapter summary: flashbacks provide some insight on our favorite metalhead.

chapter trigger warnings: 18+ only, character death, references to child neglect, upside down references, poor parenting practices, etc, blood, character death, killer reveal.

CH. 4: FAMILY VALUES

1974

The tires on Evil Kneivel’s Stunt Bike trudged through the familiar path of the bare thread carpet in the back bedroom of trailer 8 in Forest Hills Trailer Park. Eddie was on his stomach, ignoring the rumbling noise from the hollow emptiness in his belly, he pressed his lips together to vibrate a motorcycle sound through his mouth, casually blowing dark curls from his vision. 

An annoyed huff echoed across the thin walls, “This is boring,” Billy snarled, he was laying flat on Eddie’s bed, feet on the wall, throwing up his stretch Armstrong to himself before tossing it across the room, landing with a splat on the broken closet door. 

Eddie pushed himself up from the carpet, the fibers itching through the holes in his jeans and scratching his knees. 

He shrugs, running his tongue through the gap of his latest pulled tooth, “wanna see my guitar?” 

“No,” Billy huffed, his thumb nail catching along the ridges of the zippo lighter he had stolen from Melvalds, lighting a small flame that he quickly extinguished with the flip of the lid. “I wanna do something fun.”

“Alright then, genius,” Eddie scowls, sitting next to Billy on the brown and burgundy ripped threads of an afghan blanket, “what do you have in mind?” 

Billy swings his feet around, landing with ease and standing before his friend, the smirk on Billy’s face was one Eddie knew all too well. 

—

Neil and Al didn’t hear the boys sneak out from the back room, too drunk and elbow deep in “work” to notice their sons had pushed the screen outward and hopped down to the ground. 

“The instructions are clear, Al,” Neil said, his mouth around a can of Pabst, scrubbing a dirty thumbnail through his eyebrow, “here let me see that.” 

Al blows a cloud of smoke into the air, handing over the poorly written note on the back of the Hideout napkin, clad with ketchup stains and spilled coffee. “Don’t know how you can even read this shit.”

“I can read that’s how I can read it dumb fuck,” Neil snapped, grabbing the napkin from him, he looks over the scratchy pen marks, pointing at the instructions again, “see right there, Creel laid it all out for us.” 

“Okay wise ass, but it doesn’t make sense. How the hell are we supposed to break int- into that place without anyone seeing us?” Al puts the butt of his cigarette into the overflowing ashtray, blowing smoke around the side of his mouth. “It’s under surveillance and the guards are armed.” 

“The guards are armed.” Neil mocks, “Jesus Christ you sound just like a woman, how many cars have we boosted?”

“That’s different, easy. Breaking into a secret government lab? This is above our pay grade, and your skill level.” 

“Yeah and your big brains are why you got fired from the mill right?” 

“Shit,” Al downplays, “they didn’t pay worth a damn, boosting and dealin’ keep my pockets lined just fine.” 

“If only it was enough to keep Liz around right?”

“Don’t say that bitch’s name in this house, I’ll slit your throat and use it for an ashtray, Hargrove.” 

“Ahh shit,” Neil quips, “don’t get your panties wadded up, but back to this,” he says waving the napkin around, “the tunnels, that’s our way in.” 

—-

Eddie’s van is barreling down the highway like a bat out of hell. Nancy hasn’t stopped crying, slowly wiping her tears, with the front of her shirt, sniffling every so often. 

You’re grief stricken, numb to whatever the hell just happened, and what those things even were— and to top it all off, Eddie somehow knows?

Steve is leaning on the center console between you and Eddie, back seat driving and giving him directions on how to get to his house. 

At first Eddie had thought about going to his trailer, he knew his dad and Wayne kept their rifles in the back shed, but decided against it at the last minute, hollering over his shoulder for anyone having an idea of where to go. 

How safe could he keep everyone if his house was bordering on enemy lines? 

—-

1983

The Hargrove’s house was nestled on Cherry. Older but comfortable, a damn sight better than the paper thin walls of the trailer, and the soggy couch that reeked of spilt beer. 

Billy was going on and on about his girlfriends, yes plural. The blonde haired Gina or was it Jenny? And Tanya, the rich one who lived by Steve Harrington. 

Junior year was different for the boys, where Billy excelled in popularity with the jocks being a basketball star, Eddie fell into a different crowd, the Hellfire Club.  

They were still friends, still causing trouble on nights you couldn’t hang out, Billy now refusing entirely to hang out with Eddie when you were around, which you weren’t complaining about. 

Eddie takes another swig of Mt. Dew and continues drawing a rogue for one of the older guys, Nico, in Hellfire. He was only half listening to the way Billy was describing the differences between the girls, body type mostly. 

“If you want in on the action big boy just let me know, Gina loves hearing Metallica play when we steam up the windows in my car if ya know what I mean,” the cigarette hanging limply from his lips wiggled as he spoke, sending ashes down to his black converse. 

Eddie immediately thought of you. He wasn’t sure of his feelings when it came to you but he wondered if you’d be weirded out that Billy was planning to get him a date. How would you feel if he went out with some chick?

The idea of you kissing someone made his stomach turn, and not in a butterfly way. 

Instead of listening to Billy bitch about how much he can’t stand you and how you’re holding Eddie back he just went along with it, “yeah man, sounds good.” 

“Sounds good?” Billy questions, racking the weights he was lifting with a thud, checking his traps in his reflection, shooting a look over his shoulder, “I’m trying to get you laid, dude.” 

Eddie looks up from his seated position in the corner of Billy’s room, his fingers were silvery from shading the lines of his drawing, pinked eraser rubberings littered the front of his new Metallica shirt. “Yeah man, I’m down, what’s her number.” 

Eddie wrote the number on the corner of his paper, barely registering what else Billy was saying, his mind wandering to what kind of shit his dad was up to this time. 

Al was home for a longer stretch than normal this time, but he seemed to spend every waking minute at the Hargrove’s.

Eddie wasn’t dumb enough to think that his dad actually wanted to hangout with him. 

Oh no, Al Munson had his priorities whenever he came back to Hawkins with his tail between his legs, and seeing his only son wasn't the top of the list. 

He went to the bar first, picking out the waitress with zero confidence, saying all the right things and tipping her just enough to make her think she was really something. When her shift was over, he’d bring her to a sleazy by-the-hour motel, giving her the ol’ Munson magic and then, when she was in the shower or cleaning up in the bathroom, he’d bolt. Driving to the nearest gas station casino and spending whatever money the waitress had in her purse. 

He’d finally crawl back to Wayne’s when he was bone dry, claiming he was home “for good this time!” And how he, “just wanted to hangout with my boy!” 

Turns out the “hanging out” was going over to Neil’s and getting shitfaced drunk, bringing Eddie to tag along, to prove to his brother that he was a good dad. He failed to mention that Eddie would end up locked in Billy’s room until dawn. 

So no, getting laid wasn’t on Eddie’s mind right now. 

“I told Tommy H to leave you alone, told him I’d fuck his girlfriend again if I caught wind of him messing with you.” Billy said, shoving his chest out proudly. Maybe if he helped Eddie spread his wings, he’d stop getting picked on, but in Billy’s eyes, Eddie brought alot of it on himself sticking up for those fucking nerds he always hung out with. 

The Hargrove kitchen table was covered in the same paperwork they always were when Al came over. Weird haikus, and riddles that were partly solved, a timeline of when and where everything needed to take place, and lastly, a complete blueprint of Lonnie Byers’ house. 

Everything was just about set in stone, the only thing the men couldn’t figure out is why Creel had decided that it had to be Lonnie’s son as the baited sacrifice. And whenever they asked, Creel would say the same thing, “an eye for an eye.” 

—

1986

“Right here,” Steve said, pointing his hand in Eddie’s face and out the window to his big behemoth of a house. 

The kind of house that belonged to a homeowners society, telling you when, where, and how to water and mow your grass. Not the type of neighborhood that housed the brown piece of shit on wheels that was arriving into the Harrington driveway at record speeds. 

Steve fumbled with the door and had to pry Nancy away from the van, she was petrified, her body shaking and tense, beneath his arm. 

Eddie turns to you, tapping you gently on the shoulder and when you don’t move he guides your chin towards him, his heart breaking at the sight of your tear filled eyes. 

“I’m gonna keep you safe, okay?” His eyes were large and the worry on his face only made you more scared, but he tried to put on a brave face for you, “c’mon, we gotta get inside.” 

Steve’s home was decorated with expensive paintings and gold fixtures. The kind of decor that wasn't available at a mall but ordered from some lavish designer in New York. The living room had vacuum lines in the carpet, as if it were never used. The wood floors in the foyer sparkled from the overhead chandelier, it was a catalog home, looking as if it were staged for a photo 

shoot rather than people actually living in it. 

Nancy’s cries echoed loudly around the empty Harrington home, Steve scooped her up like an infant and carried her down the carpeted steps to the open basement. 

Eddie still wasn’t acting like himself, his eyes were clouded over with something you couldn’t pinpoint, plagued with grief? But you felt reassured when his fingers curled into the spaces between yours as you followed Steve and Nancy to the basement. 

—

NOVEMBER 9, 1983

“You working tonight?” Eddie asks at your locker, ringed fingers working over the corners of a Polaroid of you and him last summer when he tried to teach you how to skateboard. One of his favorite memories. 

“Nope,” you answer from deep inside your locker, looking for the crumbled history notes you swore you still had for todays test, emerging from the locker and hitting your head on the way out, “ow fuck! Nah I’m off tonight, Don closed since Joyce’s son has been gone, why what’s up?” 

Eddie shuts your locker and shifts his worn notebook to his other hand, “it’s Wednesday, the Hawk has free popcorn, thought maybe we could see a movie?”

It wasn’t weird for two friends to go to a movie together, you and Eddie had done it multiple times. Completely casual. Even if the heat from his fingers bumping against yours sent flutters to your stomach and he quickly moved his hand like you were a snake that had bit him, a blush forming on his cheeks. 

“What time?”

“I dunno, seven? Pick ya up at 6:30, that way we can stop and get snacks to sneak some snacks in to go with our free popcorn.” 

His boyish grin was the same from when you were kids, dimple dipped cheeks, and the darkest eyes twinkling with mischievous glee.

The door to Mr. Stanley’s Chem 210 was open and you stopped before going in the classroom to give Eddie your answer, “fine, but I want twizzlers.” 

—

“What the hell do you mean it’s not enough? We did exactly what you said, solved each fucking riddle!” 

The weathered boards of the Creel House groan as a screaming gust of wind slaps loud against the old home, the late winter storm rattled the wooden foundation and pelted the window panes with ice, pinging loudly with each large gale that forced its way through the cracks of the poorly maintained home.

A small fire crackled in the sunken fireplace, wafting dark plumes of smoke into the living room and ashing soot onto the cobweb covered furniture. 

“He makes the rules, I do not, I am simply a messenger, a ves—,” a tattered mitten hand cups around his mouth, acting as a poor excuse for a shield against a barking, wet cough. Lungs burning with each wheeze of oxygen leaving. He clears his throat when the fit is over, wiping his mouth with a moth bitten scarf around his sagging neck, leaving blood behind, “..vessel, I don’t make the rules, Neil.” 

“A what?” Al quizzes, shifting uncomfortably from his left leg to his right, “we delivered that kid exactly where you told us to! The whole town thinks he’s dead! Hawkins PD put out the report last night that a body was found by the quarry.” 

Creel pokes the fire with the blunt end of his cane, crumbling a reddened log into pieces, adding a wadded mass of newspaper, the face of Will Byers’ missing poster front and center, his cherub smile warping with the heated flame. 

“The boy is hiding somewhere. The creatures can not find him, he is convinced that there is help from our side.” 

“Impossible,” Al scoffed, rubbing the cold of his nose on his sleeve, “I just talked to Chief Hopper at the Hideaway last night, and according to him it’s a closed case, Lonnie and his former ol lady were making funeral arrangements.” 

“What you hear, and what you see, seem different ways to hold the key.”

“Enough with the psychological bullshit!” Neil yelled throwing his beer across the living room, “tell us what he needs from us.” 

The blackened tooth smile creeps onto Creel’s face his red chapped lips split and bleed, and he holds back his cough just long enough to whispers the same fallacy he was given only hours before, in another dimension identical to this one. 

“A son.” 

—

The wind was ripping snow across the streets of Hawkins. The windshield wipers on Eddie’s van had frozen in place, stopping half way in the middle of the windshield, the shitty wipers no match against the freezing, winter rain. 

You were certain that the seat belt in the passenger seat had never been used before tonight, but Eddie was insistent that you wore it, foregoing his own with a you’re kidding right? look. The whites of your knuckles shine bright with each overhead street lamp that dances lazily on the windshield, and Eddie looks over with a laugh.

“Almost there Pebs,” he mumbles, his mouth snug around the filter of a cigarette, a half smirk on his lips, “don’t worry.” 

The storm foiled more plans than just good driving conditions, apparently The Hawk had closed earlier that day when the windchill dipped down to the negatives, Sal ensuring that his employees had plenty of time to get home before the weather took a turn for the worst. Thankfully Family Video was still open, and Eddie’s trailer was empty for the night, save for a couple of beers in the fridge and the heat from an electric blanket. Apparently the manager of Family Video didn’t give a fuck about the roads, neither did the factory. 

You and Eddie were met with the rolling eyes of Steve Harrington as you two shoved each other out of the way to get into the door first, bringing with you a cold gust of wind and chattering teeth.  After securing The Poltergeist and two boxes of peanut M&M’s, you and Eddie were tucked into the tin can death trap on wheels, trekking slowly to Forest Hills Trailer Park. 

The bumpy driveway was nearly covered by the falling ice and snow, causing Eddie to slide into his parking spot, well the front yard, of trailer 8. Before he jiggles the key out of the ignition, a man’s shadow illuminated the front door, the burning end of a cigarette glowing on a presumed inhale, and Eddie mutters a ‘fuck’ under his breath.

“Stay here, okay?” He says with a shallow voice, his eyes never leaving the front door of the trailer, “I’ll be right back.”

What the hell was his dad doing at home this time? Maybe he was confused, thinking it was Thanksgiving already— probably wondering where the turkey and green bean casserole were. 

The door of the van groans as Eddie pushes it open with his shoe, slamming it shut and hearing the crinkle of built up ice breaking away from the frame. Ice was gathering in his hair as he scurried up the steps, the shadow moving away from the door so Eddie could come inside, and once the threshold was breached, he wasn’t surprised to see his dad standing in the kitchen, smoking a cigarette, long fingers wrapped around a can of Wayne’s breakfast PBR.

“There’s my boy,” Al greeted with a false tone of cheer laced in his voice, “only been waiting here for an hour, I need your help with somethin’.”

“Sorry,” Eddie mutters, shutting the door tight and shaking his hair free of the elements, “must have lost my schedule on your flight arrival.”

“Watch it,” Al snaps, his eyes are bloodshot and dark rimmed, voice gravelly, “I’m in no mood for your shit tonight, alright?”

Eddie tuts through his teeth and shoulder checks his old man before walking to the living room, pulling the cord from the wall jack, unplugging the tv. Holding it against his hip to bring it to his room.

“What the hell man, I was gonna watch that!” Al yells as Eddie trudges into his room, shoving shit off his dresser with a sweep of his arm, putting the small tv down he turns to find his dad right behind him, glaring menacingly at him, nose to nose. 

“The rabbit ears haven’t worked in months, guess you’ll have to go to Neil’s..”

His insult is cut short as Al grabs him by the lapels of his denim vest, shoving him into the closet door, busting it off the sliding track. 

“Listen to me you little fuck…” Al spits, literally into Eddie’s face, “I said I’m not in the mood for your shit tonight, ya got me? I need your fucking help for once in your life, can you manage that?” 

“Get off me,” Eddie sneers back, trying to hide the trembling in his jaw as he grits his teeth, “I’m serious.” 

I'm serious, Dad! Al mocks, shoving Eddie harder into the closet, the splintering wood busting beneath his shoulder blades. “I ain’t ever asked you for nothin’ in your whole damn life, let you live here with Wayne, no rules no nothin’ and now it’s time to pay up. I need a favor.” 

His eyes were shocking in a desperate way, anger riddling his irises. 

Eddie thinks fast to his underwear drawer, the wad of cash shoved into an old sock underneath a sticky playboy, “I don’t sell whatever you’re on, and I don’t have any cash.” 

“Ain’t about money, or horse, Eddie boy, you remember my friend, the one that lives in the old house on Morehead?” 

Eddie thinks back to all the “friends” Al had ever introduced him to. There was Bud the one who owned the bowling alley in Bridgeport that had a fake eye and an gnarly looking scar on his face from a dog bite, Willy Jack who helped take the plates off of the van and scratch up the VIN number when they stole it from that scrap yard north of town, he even painted it any color Eddie wanted, but somehow the friend he was talking about wasn’t registering. 

Raising an eyebrow, Eddie shakes his head no. “Doesn’t matter,” Al said all too quick, “his son has been missin’ see, for years, and we need your boys’ help finding him.” 

“Who’s we?” Eddie asks, finally wiggling free from his dads hands, straightening his jacket, “and why the fuck do I need to find him?” 

A closed fist breaks through the paneled wall next to his chin, “enough with the questions Eddie goddamnit! I need you on this, and you’re not gonna tell me ‘no’ you understand me?” 

Eddie had never hated his dad more than he did at this moment. If he were older he’d swing a fist into his gut, knock his lights out once and for all, but he didn’t dare, shoulders slumped and the weight of the world and all its guilt piled onto him. He had no idea what kind of shit his dad was getting him into, only the gut wrenching feeling that something was terribly wrong, and the only thing he could do was nod his head, agreeing to lend his trembling hand. 

Across town on Cherry lane, Neil Hargrove was having the same friendly little “discussion” with Billy, but the conversation was different, lighter, happier, and the two Hargrove men seemed to be on the same page for once in their lives. 

—

OCT. 1986

The Harrington’s basement was set up much like the Wheeler’s but on a grander scale. Large tv tucked behind an oak cabinet,, a beige leather couch that seemed to stretch across the entire living room area, a surround sound system in each corner,  two bedrooms and a full bathroom. Setting Nancy down on the plus couch and covering her small form with a wool blanket, Steve opens a closet door and wrangles out a new set of golf clubs, leaning them against the wall, and running his hair through his fingers, as if he’s trying to make a mental list of household objects that could be used as a weapon. 

The phone rings noisily in one of the bedrooms and Steve leaves to answer it. 

Eddie still has your fingers between his, his rings leaving small indents but you don’t mind, it’s a comfort. He’s muttering to himself, in a tone only he can hear, biting the nails on his right hand with grinding clicks of his teeth. Looking at you his expression falters for a split second, trying to put on a calming mask, nonchalant-like even though inside he was screaming. 

It wouldn’t be long before the Demodogs came, especially if the Demogorgons were out, would he be looking for him? Wondering where he has been? Why he’s been gone? 

He guides you to the couch, a grand gesture with his nail bitten hand, grabbing a blanket and putting it around you. 

Steve emerges from the back bedroom, a tiny bit of relief in his eyes, “that was Robin, they’re on their way here, I guess they barely made it out.” 

You wince at the thought of everyone dead at the carnival, the way Argyle’s body was ripped to shreds, the howling cackle from Creel, the way he stood with his arms in a welcoming hug, just an hour ago you were convinced you were going to kiss your best friend, now the majority of Hawkins was dead. 

Steve turns to Eddie, with wide searching eyes, fumbling for the right words but failing, “I need answers man, right now.” 

—

Robin hangs up the phone, blood drying on her fingers from when she tripped over the gaping carcass of Tammy Thompson, her face covered with streaks of dirt and god knows what else, “ Let’s go! Everyone’s at St—”

A stinging in her spine brings heat, warm and dripping, then fiery hot, a hand on her shoulder she turns to see his maniacal eyes, the blood from the gash on his head now trickling into his mouth, white pearls stained in ruby. 

“I did you a solid Rob, killed that bitch for you—didn’t even think twice about it, because we’re friends,”  blood now trickling down her back into the waist of her scoops ahoy uniform shorts, she garbles a breath cusping on the breath of a question. 

“shh,” he reassures, wiping tears from her freckles lined cheeks, extracting the knife from the well in her back, he helps her lie down gently, “this isn’t going to kill you, it’s just temporary you see? I can’t have any distractions, I can’t let you get in my way, but don’t worry!”

 He moves to rip the phone cord from its hook, “I’ve done so much research on this meticulously studying over books on ways to cut the human body, what would hurt the worst, the least, the angle of the knife  was just right, I guess I could be wrong,” he scratches his head, the whites of his eyes rolling as the smell of blood starts to work him up, an ache he can’t scratch, “hmm… take care, yeah? I’ll be back.” 

A pool of blood blossoms from Robin’s back, flowing into the blue carpet fibers of her room— in tandem with the slow blink of her eyelashes meeting. 

The ignition of his car engine backfires with a gunshot noise, the bloody knife he used to kill the others laid gently on the leather of his passenger seat. 

Driving down the desolate streets of Hawkins, he looks in the rearview mirror, and for the first time, Jonathan Byers likes what he sees. 

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[fandomfluffandfuck]

OKAY OKAY OKAY

while I absolutely ADORE your drabbles, I love them so much mwah mwah mwah

I would like to raise you…. pussy!Steve who doms the fuck out of Bucky. Bucky is crying and whimpeeing and trying so hard to be a good boy, but Steve is just so good. Like, mind-meltingly good. It makes our poor baby go stupid, and Steve loves to take advantage of that.

For reference, my ask box is no longer open for requests, but this is from before I closed it, so I will be writing for this ask.

Thank you so much!!

Y-E-S.

I will rise to this challenge, abso-fucking-lutely.

Bucky is shaking badly, head to toe trembling as if he's woken up in the middle of the night to an earthquake. He's spread across his bed, vulnerable in his nakedness, and so shocked by the waking to the ground rumbling beneath him like it wants to swallow him whole, the earth vibrating through his mattress, spooking him so badly that he's started to sweat enough to soak into the bed.

But there is no earthquake, it is not the middle of the night, and Bucky is not afraid.

Rather than an earthquake, there's the earth-shattering feeling of Steve on top of his quivering, sweat-glistening body spread across the bed. Steve is pinning him down at the same time that he makes him shiver and shake and tense against the bonds of his words, ordering Bucky to keep still, based on nothing but his sweet obedience. And rather than fear, the exact opposite yet so similar sensation has overtaken him--arousal. The twin side of the coin. Fear is heart racing and sweaty and on edge, arousal is the same but titillating instead of life-threatening.

Well.

Bucky still might feel as though his life is threatened but not in a bad way. More so in the way that if he dies right here, he can die a happy man.

More than fucking happy, he can die fulfilled, overflowing with arousal and heat and devastation because Steve is on top of him, his thick thighs thrown around his stocky waist with one hand in the center of Bucky's chest to hold himself up, fingers spread, palm down, and the other hand between his legs. He's using his fingers, articulating them, curling and rubbing and fingering, and making the mouthwatering muscles and veins in his forearm twitch and bulge. Steve's touching himself, hovering above Bucky, on his knees, just close enough to tease.

That's why Bucky's shaking. He's so fucking teased. He can't touch. He just has to lay here and watch, rock-hard as Steve plays with his cunt. Oh, god, he's two fingers fucking deep in it, making the most lewd, wet sounds as he dives--both his soaked pussy and his chest-rumbling noises of pleasure. He's close enough for Bucky to feel the humid, sticky heat between his legs but not close enough. Bucky wants him closer. Desperately wracked with want Bucky aches to be inside him. He's hot, fucking wet, tight velvet around his cock. He always is. Bucky wants to fucking fuck him. He wants it so bad he can taste it on the tip of his tongue.

It's not just Bucky's own want making him taste it, though, it's how fucking close Steve is and how turned on he is as he plays with himself--curling his fingers inside himself to make his eyes roll back and his hips stutter forward, arching painfully sharply to have more pressure against his sweet spot inside him, and whining to himself as he teases his own body, playing himself, making himself sing, making himself want and ache and throb before he dares to take his soaked, glistening fingers out of himself and rub tight, fast circles around his swollen clit. Steve is so goddamn hot for this--getting off on controlling him, telling him how to move and when, what he deserves and doesn't--that he's wet all down his thighs. Some of his slick, wet and thick and fragrant, has dripped onto Bucky's throbbing, hurting cock as he fingerfucks himself to another orgasm. Having it drip hotly out of Steve and onto him, landing almost with a splat and sizzle, it's that fucking wet and hot, is the only way Bucky's gotten his dick wet for the unknown amount of time he's been trapped here, wanting so badly he can feel it in his teeth and the bite of his fingernails digging into his own palms. Wanting so badly he can taste it. Steve's arousal is so thick in the air he can literally taste it, coating his tongue and spreading down his throat, ending up deep, deep in his belly, making tight knots in his guts until he's groaning with abandon.

This is fucking torture. He's so hard! All he wants is in his pussy. It's the only thing he can think about. He can feel his heart throbbing in his cock and he just needs Steve's tight, wet pussy around him to make it better. It's not fair that Steve gets to feel himself around his fingers and Bucky doesn't! It's not fair that Bucky has to lay here and sweat through the sheets, barely able to fucking see, his eyes watering so badly for just how desperate he is, and witness Steve getting himself off again and again. He hasn't gotten off once! He's just fucking aching. It's in his teeth. His bones.

He needs.

He's whining, whimpering, and sobbing.

Steve is moaning with his throat now, his hips grinding roughly down against his own hand, his fingers curled inside himself, pressing against his g-spot and thrusting in and out of his sticky wetness and tugging at his own rim to make his thighs abruptly jolt with the stimulation. He's pulling his fingers out and spreading his hot, thick wetness all around his pussy, tracing the legs of his clit down on either side of his slit, forming his fingers into an enticing V-shape. He's making sure Bucky can do nothing but stay locked onto target with dark, starved eyes. He's so fucking wet. Spreading it all over. Glistening. Swollen, and, Jesus Christ, Bucky has it so bad he can't help but drool a little bit, thinking, mortifyingly, that his cunt looks juicy.

He wants it so badly it's awful, sobbing harder, making his chest stutter and heave.

Steve takes a moment to tease them both, spreading his labia and getting his legs just a little wider, canting his hips up and forward, letting his head lull back in obvious, vocal pleasure--Bucky can see everything. All of his wet, pink, hypersensitive flesh from swollen clit to his pried-open vagina back to the tight clutch of his asshole. The sight of him hits like a fucking punch to the gut. He's spread like a book so open that the spine is cracked and Bucky wants to stick his face in it and consume it page for page. He wants to pronounce each word slowly and taste it on his tongue--savor it. He wants to tear through the story and then go back again and again to memorize it, to know it by heart.

He wants.

But he can't have.

Steve won't let him.

And it's the worst, best day of his life when Steve, his voice all breathy and fucked-out, tells him, "beg." He doesn't have to clarify for what and he absolutely doesn't have to ask again.

Bucky obeys, frantic and feverish as what he hopes are words spilling out of his loose lips. He can't control himself. He doesn't know what he's saying if he's saying anything at all. He may just be making useless noises that are incoherent and embarrassing in sheer out-of-his-mind desperation. He's just going and going, running his mouth and hoping to a god he doesn't believe in anymore that it's enough.

Thank fuck, it's enough. Or, with devastated arousal in his chest, maybe it isn't? Bucky doesn't know. He can't make sense of what Steve's doing, he's just watching it fucking unfold as nothing but a weak, submissive passenger as Steve takes another long, drawn-out orgasmic moment to ride and shake and squirm on his own hand, wringing wetness out of himself fervently before, oh fuck, taking his hand from between his legs, glistening wet, soaked as shit, and lifting it fluidly to right in front of Bucky's dumb fucking face.

Bucky blubbers more, begging, maybe just moaning or outright crying at this point, he isn't sure what's happening. Whatever he does has Steve convinced enough to close the harrowing gap between his drenched fingers and Bucky's face and--

He bluntly wipes the wet, hot mess on his fingers down Bucky's face, shaking him to the core with Steve's slick painted onto him, marking him from just above his lip, under his nose, over his mouth, down to his cleft chin. He is coated. Smothered. Glazed

"Don't you dare fucking lick it," Steve growls with so much conviction that it's shocking, Bucky doesn't know how he can still keep going, he's barely fucking hanging on by a thread himself and he hasn't even had a single orgasm yet.

Bucky wants nothing more than the taste of him. It's so hard to keep his ravenous tongue in his mouth. He's so eager for it. It's harder to keep from licking Steve's wetness off his lips and struggling to clean it off his skin, too, than it is to keep his hands to himself. But. He does it.

He lays there, head spinning at a million miles an hour, neck limp on his pillow, hair fanned out around his bright red cheeks, sweat gathering on his skin, for what feels like ages. Steve's wetness is spread thickly over him, cooling from the molten heat between Steve's legs and deep inside his tight pussy to Bucky's body temperature, feverish but not lava like Steve's sex is. His wetness is close enough to Bucky's nose that all he can smell is the briny, wrecking scent of his wetness. He needs it in his mouth. His chest heaves, stutters, and he chokes through his sealed-shut lips. If he dares to open his mouth, his tongue will come out to play.

He can't.

Steve knows he can't, but he still pushes. Because he's like that. Rattling off, "good fucking boy, yeah, yeahh, it looks like my good boy just got finished eating my pussy, hmm?" Bucky whines sharply through his shut lips, the noise going even more feral as Steve goes back to his cunt, drawing his fingers over his clit to shudder with pleasure, and then down, deeper, wetting his fingers again in his dripping, leaking hole. "Aww," Steve exhales roughly, getting to himself, knowing just how he likes to be touched and exploiting it, "ain't that somethin'? It looks like I was sitting on your face and letting you go at it. Cute."

Bucky sobs, lungs seizing.

"Yeah--fuck yes--you'd like that, Buck. You're al-always so eager to please. Always so happy to get your face soaked an' have me squirt all over you."

He feels like a puppy being trained to balance a treat on his snout, waiting as still as he can (which is not very still, his tail wagging so fast it shakes his whole body with it) for the signal from his master before flicking his nose and catching the treat in his mouth, crunching through it so rapidly he barely tastes it at all. Please please pleasepleaseplease sprints through his head, the only thought, he can't open his mouth and talk, he can't or he'll shatter, but he needs.

Soon but not soon enough, Steve is satisfied with his vibrating patience, staring down at him, looming, waiting, watching with a devious expression hot on his face, drunk on control. Then, f i n a l l y , with even more wetness shining on his fingers, dripping down to pool in his palm and further obscenely dripping down the heel of his hand to his wrist, Steve brings his fingers back up. Without hesitation or shame, Steve barks at him, "open, tongue out," and Bucky does. Not a single thought in his head. Just obedience.

Steve slaps two fingers down onto the flat of his hungry tongue.

Drooling, Bucky curls his tongue around his fingers the best he can when he's so fucking shaky and strung out, lapping up his briny, hot taste and moaning jaggedly. If Steve told him so, he could cum just tasting him. But Steve doesn't tell him to cum, he's much more interested in shoving his fingers deep into Bucky's mouth, his throat, and making him gag, forcing the tears that had collected in his eyes to spill over and rush down his face. Bucky cries, Steve's fingers heady in his throat, and hears nothing but an angel's choir.

[sxgarworld]

𝐬𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 - 𝐲. 𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐢

your college jock boyfriend isn’t the big sweetheart everyone thinks he is. but he’s still sweet enough for you.

contains: oral (m!receiving), meanie yuji, black coded reader (anyone can read!!), dom yuji, anal, fingering, squirting, generally nastier than my other posts.

To everyone else Yuji was nothing more than a sweetheart. A boy with a bright smile and soft pink hair. A strong guy with a big heart and a love for everyone. Were they wrong? No, not exactly. I mean, he was your sweet boyfriend. When you weren’t in bed at least.

Now he’s just walked in the door to your little shared apartment that isn’t too far from your campus, looking almost worn out from another night of practice. He closes the door, heavy footsteps making their way to you, who’s curled up on the couch, watching some silly movie from the 2000s that probably had shitty acting and even worse props.

“I missed you too,” he says, half sarcastically from your lack of a greeting. You sit up excitedly as he pets your head and face lovingly, leaning into his touch desperately from a long day of not seeing him. “Ohhh do you did miss me? If you really missed me you’d show it.”

He sat next to you, his hands cupping underneath the fat of your ass and pulling you on his lap, bouncing you a bit. You gripped his shoulders with your acrylics, the nails digging into his traps. He sighed, as if letting out a long breath of stress that he’d been holding in all day. His large, rough hands smacked your ass once or twice, soft brown eyes watching the ripples against his knees.

“Jus’ so pretty f’me, aren’t you? Yeah? Look atcha droolin’ like a lil dog,” he mused, his other hand wiping off your bottom lip, immediately running that same thumb across his tongue. You watched warily as he called you a dog, knowing your boyfriend was the type of man to make you bark if he so pleased.

Because Yuji was a sweet boy. The sweetest boy you’ve ever met. But in private that man was nasty.

Fortunately he wasn’t in a mood to hear you bark, but he was in a mood to have you on your knees, his cock in your jaws.

“C’mon pretty thing,” his hand grips the plush of your rear “Don’t wanna help me de-stress? You do? Yeah I know girl, c’mon. On your knees… just like that baby.” His hands guide you to your knees, his legs spread with you in between them. You could see it, his rock hard cock pitching a tent in his cargo pants. You knew what he liked, taking his zipper in your teeth skillfully, and undoing his pants with your mouth. As soon as it was undone, you ripped his pants and boxers off in one go, his fat head slapping onto his stomach. He rubbed his thumb over the slit of his angry pink tip, as it throbbed to feel the touch of your mouth.

“Tongue out— yeah that’s a good girl.” He slapped his throbbing head onto your tongue, immediately tangling his hands into your hair, guiding you down his cock. The smell of it wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t unnoticeable. He smelled like your tired sweaty boyfriend, hot and bothered and ready to shoot a load down your throat. His hips bucked as his bit his lip, his cock repeatedly bruising the back of your throat.

“Yeahhh… oh fuck-! Yeah that’s- oh fuck that’s how I like it,” he said, his voice hitting a whimper “Yeah? Yeah? Pretty girl please keep fuckin’ swallowing’ my cock like that!”

Your head bobbed, pretty tongue wrapping around his shaft as it moved up and down it, feeling each vein. When your put your hands on it, you felt it twitch, bouncing up and down. Just to tease him, you stroked his cock quickly, just kissing and kitten licking his mushroom head. He loved seeing your plump lips glossed with his pre and your own saliva.

“Baby… keep fuckin’ strokin’ like that and I’m nutting in your mouth,” he begged. His hips started to slam into your palm, your acrylics clicking against each other around his cock. You felt his cock twitch more, and soon his hands grabbed your hair and shoved his cock deep in your throat, cum splattering down your esophagus. It almost made you choke, coughing as you fought to swallow.

“C’mon good sluts swallow,” he said, grabbing your face by your cheeks and squeezing to keep your mouth closed. You nodded, tearing up as you swallowed his cum down. He cooed, bringing you back on his lap.

“I know you just want me to fuck you from behind, don’t you?” He slapped your ass as you sat on his lap. His cock quickly hardened again, pulsating as it sprung up to sit in between your plush asscheeks. “Maybe even in that other hole, huh? Yeah?” he smiled, sucking on his middle and index finger before plunging them into your asshole. The sudden burn almost made you scream, letting out a loud gasp as your nails started to dig into his back. His finger scissored a bit, trying to open your ass up.

“Mmhhh… I think I’m takin’ this one tonight. C’mon, ass up face down. Y’know how I like it,” he grinned. You quickly obeyed, your face and torso on the couch as your ass was in the air, his cock slapping against it. P-tuh! You felt him spit right on your puckering hole, trying to lube it up a bit. Then his fat mushroom tip was throbbing against your asshole, struggling to push in. It made you whine, gripping the blanket on the couch. Finally his fat head pushed in, then the rest of his cock slid in with ease.

It wasn’t the first time you two had done anal, but you knew he only did it when he wanted to hear you cry from pleasure immediately. The stretching of your tight hole never failed to make you whine and whimper, and immediately tighten around his cock. He slid down to the base, balls deep in your ass as he spat on the hole again.

“Gonna start movin’. Is that ight baby? You need any help?” he grinned. You shook your head, and he took that as a signal to immediately start plowing into your ass. His balls slapped against your fat pussy, which was soaking wet from pleasure just from sucking his dick. Over and and over his tip hit something inside you. Some part deep in your ass that made your eyes roll back and your toes curl. Something only he had the skill and knowledge to hit over and over again.

Balls still slapping against your pussy, now starting to drip with your own arousal. He slipped thick digits into your cunt, scooping up arousal and rubbing it on your asshole. Just from his fingers inside you, you let out a moan that he enjoyed. So he stuck them back in. Three thick fingers, pounding into your cervix. His hand was surely going to bruise your thighs, his thumb rubbing your pulsing clit.

“Babyyyy~ never seen pussy this wet in my life,” he moaned as he slapped his hips into your ass, watching your cheeks jiggle. You moaned back in response, drooling against the couch cushions. It was messy and hot, sloppy fucking between two desperate people.

Too sloppy and too hot, you felt your cunt twitch and your stomach knot up.

“Yuj- yuji baby,” you gasped “I’m gonna cum baby! Please… please!” You were begging… for what exactly? Who knows. Just him. You knew you needed him. His fingers in your cunt and on your clit. His cock inside your ass and his balls slapping your thighs. All the stimulation, plus all the nasty things he was saying to you? You couldn’t hold it in. He chuckled, slapping your ass.

“C’mon then baby, wanna see you squirt like that. Real cute,” he grinned. You nodded, slapping your ass against his cock at a faster, more needy pace. It was almost too much, the knot in your stomach burst as you squirted all over his hands and legs. As you came, he fucked you through your high.

“Baby! Just a bit more,” he said, his hands now gripping your hips and he slammed you into his dick, before hot, thick, creamy ropes filled your ass. His cum filled you up, pouring out as his cock pulled out with a small pop. He jerked the rest of it onto your cheeks, then falling back onto the couch.

“Yeah, c’mere. Bin such a good girl f’me, mhm?” He spoke to your breathlessly, pulling you onto his lap again, your head resting in the crook of his neck. “Just such a gooood girl. So pretty too.” He kissed your cheeks and your soft plump lips, covered in saliva and still some of his cum from earlier. He licked across your lips, then placed another kiss on your forehead.

“Yeah I’ll… I’ll get you cleaned up pretty. Don’t worry. Just… yeah. Just lay down on me like that,” he sighed tiredly, remembering how fatigued he was when he came home.

𓆩♡𓆪

coming back with another yuji one bc i absolutely love that pinkheaded boy. also!! i changed up my theme. hope u guys enjoy.

[cosmicpearlz]

a drop of your good love

summary: he’d kill for you just as along as you loved him as much as he loved you.

pairing: gf!ethan landry x reader

warnings: a very graphic description of a murder

a/n: got inspired by another song and this one is ‘kill for your love’ by labrinth :) (i literally wrote this in like 30 minutes)

…………………………………………………………………………….

ethan knew he was in love with you since mindy introduced you into the friend group. something about your personality and character had drawn him to you. all he wanted to do was be close to you. near you.

when he finally confessed his feelings to you after a couple months of friendship, he was surprised to find out that you felt the same. you were finally his and nothing was gonna get in the way of that.

“hey cutie, you here all alone?”

“no, i’m here with my boyfriend and friends,” you replied to the creepy guy that stood too close to you while you were getting another round of drinks.

“i don’t see them anywhere,” his smirk sent red flags in your head. you looked for ethan to find he wasn’t there. maybe off to the bathroom but you needed an out. you turned around once more and made eye contact with chad. you frantically waved him over, to which he gets up with no hesitation.

“there you are, we were getting worried.”

“this is the boyfriend?”

“what’s it to ya, huh?” chad sized up the guy, ready to fight if need be. you were practically his best friend and he’d do anything to protect you.

“i’m just saying she could be with a real man,” the guy goes to grab at your arm but chad stopped that immediately by shoving him.

“keep your fucking hands to yourself,” the bartender finally notices the commotion and calls over security to get the man thrown out.

“what happened baby?” ethan wraps an arm around your waist and you leaned into him. feeling even safer with your boyfriend with you.

“that asshole was bothering y/n while you went to the bathroom. i made sure to set him straight,” chad explained to the boy and patted his shoulder.

“you okay love?” he gently grabs both of your cheeks tilting your head up to look at him.

“yeah, just a bit shook.”

ethan places a kiss on your forehead and takes a look at the man arguing with security. the boy was fuming with anger, how dare someone try to take what’s his? his eyes darken with delight, already knowing how he would make that man pay.

-

it didn’t take long for ethan to find every bit of information on the guy. his name, address, and job, all quickly accessed in the matter of twenty minutes. little did peter know, he wouldn’t live to see another day to harass another person ever again.

“so peter, you like to harass people, huh?”

“man, i don’t know what you’re talking about,” ethan had peter on his knees like the bitch he was, begging for his life.

“oh but you do know. you remember at the club last saturday.”

“i didn’t mean to do it! i swear!”

“i’m afraid time is up. you should’ve known better peter.”

ethan knocked him in the head with the lamp close beside him. successfully knocking the other boy down, he bends down and starts to slash him with his knife. blood splatting all over the ghostface costume but that didn’t bother ethan.

the boy started to picture the way your soft face had a tense look to it. it made him stab peter more and more. getting revenge for you was all he cared about. you, his baby shouldn’t be scared of a loser like peter. shouldn’t be worried about people like him.

peter stayed sprawled out on his living room floor in a pool of his own blood. ethan had stabbed him over a hundred times and ended with slashing his neck and tying his intestines around his cut neck. that’ll show that motherfucker was the thought that ran through ethan’s head before he left the crime scene.

-

you were walking into your shared apartment with ethan. stressed out from a draining work day, all you wanted to do was be in your loving boyfriends arms.

“ethan?” the sight of your sweet boyfriend who you believed couldn’t hurt a fly was bleaching his ghostface mask. the black robe still covered in red blood and what looked like chunks of human flesh.

“baby,” his heart dropped as you stood frozen in place. you weren’t supposed to be home early. ethan steps close to you, only for you to step back.

“what the fu-“

“i did it for you my love. he bothered you and i wasn’t there to help. so i killed him because he doesn’t deserve to live life after that,” your eyes watered and you couldn’t fully process what was happening.

“this was not for me ethan.”

“oh but it was. i’d kill everyone who even thinks about trying to touch you. tries to bother you. tries to be near what’s mine.”

as small tears run down your cheeks, you couldn’t help but to be overwhelmed. you felt just as fucked up as your boyfriend for feeling some what honored knowing he’d kill for you. feeling slightly turned on by his animalistic killing nature.

“i love you so much darling and i’d do anything for you.” the silence was killing ethan, if you didn’t accept him he’d have to handle it. that being killing you but he couldn’t do that. you were the love of his life. he needed you.

“i love you too ethan,” you whispered knowing what this now meant for you. you couldn’t really find it in you to care once you looked into those big brown eyes. maybe in fates own twisted way, you guys were always meant for each other.

“i want to kiss you so bad baby but i gotta get cleaned up first,” he gestured to his blood cover self making you giggle. you bit your lip and nodded, walking closer to him.

“hurry and you can get all of the kisses you want. maybe a little bit more.”

“remember darling, i’d kill for just a drop of your good love because all we’ll ever need is us,” he whispered before carefully kissing your cheek. he didn’t want to get anything on you but boy he couldn’t wait to touch you since you were all his.

[aballadforbarbatos]

mc falls hard and fast

specifically, out of the sky.

you were looking for a gift for mammon, originally. something sparkly and shiny- he seemed down in the dumps, last time you saw him

and since you’re back in the human world for an undisclosed amount of time, this is the best time to go searching for a surprise gift!!

thinking back on it now, this whole set up was a bit suspicious… maybe you should be a little less one track minded next time?

i mean, saying the item’s worth is well over ten thousand dollars and then selling it for only $200? what were you thinking?

and it only got worse! they apparently had it hidden in a secret place where you needed to take a helicopter, and they needed your driver’s license and passport? MC, what is WRONG with you?

well, they told you they were going to steal your identity, taken your documents, and pushed you out of the helicopter. they’ll probably be back later to collect your body.

so here you are. falling out of the sky.

you screamed when you first got shoved, sure, but you can’t keep doing that or else you’ll go splat on the ground and the entirety of devildom might break down and also some shady guys will steal your identity.

and you’ve done a lot to have this identity, so that definitely can’t happen

pacts! you can get a demon to come rescue you!

as soon as the idea pops into your head, you know exactly which demon you want, even before you see his pact mark on the back of your hand, the same hand that you always, always use to pull out your wallet.

but, uh… you’ve never actually used the pact from so far away. will it even work if you order him from here, now?

you reach into your pocket for your D.D.D.

with the needy demon boys you’ve collected, you can barely go anywhere without it

you tap his name…

and wait while the phone rings??

meanwhile, in devildom, the demons are having a student council meeting, completely unaware that you are currently hurtling towards the ground, and your death, at an incredibly fast pace.

mammon’s phone rings.

he tries to ignore it and play it cool, but it’s so obvious it’s him

“mammon. what have i told you about keeping your D.D.D. on silent.” mammon does not look at lucifer and instead decides to investigate the table until he remembers-

“no, wait! i did put it on silent, which means-”

which means that the caller has to be you, because he fiddled with his settings so that you were the only one that could reach him while his D.D.D. was off.

he digs his hand into his pocket and pulls it out, eagerly answering your call and putting it close to his ear

…and then immediately holding it at arm’s length as you shout into the receiver, trying to be louder than the wind

“MAMMON! MAMMON OH MY GOD, MAMMON!”

“uhh…”

he genuinely has no idea what to say. what’s going on in the background? why’s it so loud? and it’s nice hearing you say his name, don’t get it wrong, but you sound panicky and he’s not sure why you’re saying it so often.

“mammon, it’s time for you to take responsibility for your words, okay?!”

“aha, words? MC, what words are you talking about? i haven’t done anything super bad or anything!”

“mammon…” your voice gets quieter and shaky so he gingerly puts his ear against the receiver. “mammon, i don’t want to die, okay?”

his eyes widen. if lucifer’s saying anything to him now, it doesn’t matter. mammon has totally drowned it out, listening to what you have to say.

“what do you want me to do?”

“mammon, come here.”

poof! he appears next to you

except you’re falling through air

so he’s only next to you for a split second

and he’s in his student uniform too so he’s falling as well

just a human and their demon, falling to their certain doom

“mc, what the fuck?!”

that’s what you think he says. you’re not sure. the wind has carried his words away

you look up, away from the ground, and at the scenery beyond. at the very least, if mammon doesn’t get it together soon, this is a pretty place to die.

mammon gets it together.

your life didn't flash before your eyes- did that mean that your brain knew that mammon would catch you?

well, of course it would think so. it’s not like he’s ever let you down before.

he could’ve saved you a little NICER, though?

seriously, slamming into your body from the side? what if he broke a rib?!

plus he accidentally crashed into a haystack, so now you’re sitting there pulling straw out of your hair, adrenaline still pulsing through your veins

okokok hold on, you’re gonna hurl

mammon’s head pops up just as you finish, “okay, gross.”

you laugh. and laugh. it feels so good to be alive! a shame about your stolen documents, but you can do something about that later

“um, why did you call me? lucifer probably would’ve been faster…”

you look at mammon with a warm smile

“mammon, aren’t you my first? didn’t you say that if you couldn’t rescue me, then i should just die? why would i want to be saved by anyone other than you?”

your D.D.D. buzzes

it’s a text

no wait, it’s two

three?

eight??

they’re also all asking you if you know what happened to mammon and if you could get him to come back to the student council

you glance at your saviour, covered in hay, now sporting a light blush

“lol” is all you send back

the devildom lives another day

[ang3lthoughts]

Warning: underage smoking, 15!chuuya, Chuuya is a stupid loser in love, reader and Chuuya are VERY a tiiiiny bit emo/scene. Dazai and Chuuya are roomies!!! Shotgunning, Chuuya and reader do kiss a little O,o

Do‼️not‼️smoke‼️nor‼️drink‼️unless‼️you‼️are‼️the‼️legal‼️age‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️ I cannot stress that enough!!!! This is pure fiction. Not real at all. Smoking kills!! Not cool!! (Is it working guys am I the next DARE)

Reqs open btw!!! :3

🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎

Chuuya didn’t know how long he had been looking in the mirror for. He wanted to make sure his eyeliner was perfectly smudged, his hair was perfectly messy, and his room was fit to match your liking. Posters were hung all over his wall, his laundry was (mostly) neatly put in a basket minus the few shirts and pants that were scattered around. His Millionares, My Chemical Romance and Pierce the Veil cds were “coincidentally” the ones on display because he knows you like them.

A knock on his bedroom door made him stop dead in his tracks. Were you here? He rushed to the door excitedly like a puppy when its owner comes home. “He- oh ew it’s just you.” Unfortunately, it wasn’t the one he expected, but his stupid roommate Dazai. “Were you expecting someone else, Chuuya~?” He flashed Chuuya a grin “it’s none of your business, brace face. What do you want?” “Not too much about my braces, pepperoni pizza. Have you seen my nail polish? You were the last one to use it” “I put it in the bathroom you idiot”

“Oh! Chuuya! Hey!” before their banter could grow further, a head popped out from behind the wall “[name]. Hi.” His voice was breathy. “Wait. How’d you get in here without keys?” Dazai questioned, peeking behind Chuuya to make eye contact with you “oh! The door was wide open.” “Fuck!” The brown haired man rushed down the stairs. “Cool bandages!” You yelled from afar.

Chuuya closed the door and put on music. You immediately recognized the song and hummed along, swaying while idly sitting criss-cross on his bed. “So… what’s in the bag?” The boy questioned. You grinned at him and shoved your hand in the bag making an annoying crinkling noise “I’m so glad you asked!” You pulled out a box of splat hair dye and a baggie of pre-rolled weed.

“Which one d’ya wanna do first?”

🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎

“Okay. First I gotta light it. Then you put it to your lips and inhale. Juuust like a cigarette. ”

It was embarrassing for the the male to admit to his crush that he had never gotten high. Of course he had smoked before, but only nicotine-infused products. not anything that would get him too fucked up. Luckily, you didn’t tease him about it like a certain suicidal maniac would. If anything, you seemed excited to show him the ropes. “Cigarettes are just the less fun version of joints. When you smoke it so often the headrush just wares off and it’s no fun anymore” your rambling fell to deaf ears because all he could focus on was you. Your plump lips, adorned with piercings, the worn-out skunk stripes matched his freshly done ones from the previous activities together, your black-painted nails went with the black stained tips of your fingers from the hair dye... He could spend every hour studying everything about you.

He finally snapped out of his trance when you lit the plant. “Open your mouth for me, chuu.” what? You had just explained how it was like a cigarette, so why did you want him to open his mouth? He complied anyway and made eye contact with you as you took a looong drag. Grabbing his face, you exhaled smoke into his mouth and he immediately inhaled all the smoke you gave him. His cheeks blossomed into a fiery red from how intimate the moment was. The eye contact between the two teens in love was a gaze as intense as the piercing rays of the sun.

Oh my god. holy shit. That was so fucking hot. Oh my god. is she gonna pull away? His head was racing. You gave him a toothy grin and put the joint right up to his lips, not daring to pull away. He inhaled the weed. a harsh taste hit his mouth immediately. He shakily exhaled and you leaned in, capturing his lips in a kiss. He wrapped his arms around your lower back as you crawled ontop of him. Pulling away as a string of saliva clung onto the both of your mouths, you exhaled the smoke that was previously in chuuyas mouth.

Mind clouded with lust and the high hitting him at the same time had his whole world spinning. You sat up, straddling his waist and taking a hit. “You feeling it yet, baby?” You exhaled. He giggled drowsily and nodded “Cmere. Wanna kiss you again.” He pushed your back down so your lips could touch again.

🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎

GRRRR I LOVE CHUUYA. LOBE LOBE LOBE HIM.

Reqs open btw!!! :3

[fqiryspit]

𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 ; 𝐞.𝐣𝐚𝐞𝐠𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩��𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠?

.

summary: y/n went to bed to fall into a new world where she met a boy, Eren. every night she would spend with this imaginary boy, but what happens when one wants to stop dreaming?

playlist

Chapter 10: 𝙜𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜

masterlist

Eren Yeager x Female Reader. College!AU

.

【ＥＲＥＮ'Ｓ　ＰＯＶ】

A smile strained on my lips as I walk out of the university, I now have everything (including a dorm) set up for me, I'm gonna be moving in sometime in December since I need to finish up my first semester in my old college

the murky woods right beside me smile with the twigs dripping from the previous downfall, the gray clouds being the prime evidence of the storm -not to mention the beautiful smell of new rain

I could see in the distance that the forest held fog near the dirt where the powdery hue swirled and moved with every gush of wind, looking at it made a sappy smile appear, It reminded me of Y/n and how she saved me that night when I was running through the forest

I've been eating up temazepam nightly just so I can lucid dream Y/n. my eye bags have faded and my mood went up. even tho I'm becoming accustomed to controlling her in my dreams, It still feels...wrong.

-should I be using her like this? fuck, why do I even care so much...-

...why do I even care so much. I swear I've asked that question to myself more than anyone else in these past few months.

stepping over the cracked sidewalk as I keep my head low I hear my name being sprung from someone's lungs

"EREN!!" I look up to see Mikasa and Armin frantically waving at the hood of the cafe, I was supposed to visit them after the meeting with the college, they've probably been waiting so long since I've been caught up in my damn thoughts...like always

I wish I wasn't so caught up in my damn thoughts.

.

【Ｙ／Ｎ'Ｓ　ＰＯＶ】

"I'm so bored"

you whined as you jump onto the couch, rubbing your nose into the cushion as Sasha giggled from the kitchen

"I'm heading out. Maybe you should come with me" She offered, you rolled off the couch and looked up to her to see her put on a sweet smile

"where?" "the cafe, I'm fucking starving"

"hmmm," you puckered your lips and then rolled your baggy eyes "better not, I can't have caffeine" you need to try and actually get sleep tonight, blaming your nightmares on the absurd amount of caffeine you drink

"suit yourself!!" she grabbed her bag and blew you a kiss before slipping through the door, you sighed and turned your head to the window that showed the sappy forest and the droplet of water that splatted your window, excess rain from the roof spilling out in unison as the one little raindrop made "splat" on the window

you rolled off the couch as you hoped to be productive on your off-day, squinting your eyes in thought as you still sat patiently on the floor, acting like an idea was going to come to you any minute...

and then it did.

you jumped up and threw your arms up, frantically waving them around as you almost slip on the wood flooring with your pearly white socks before sliding towards your room

your foot closed the door as you hopped over to your desk, your hand reached over for your tote bag as you grip the handle to balance yourself

you held your sketchbook up with dignity and leaped onto your bed, a proud smile on your face as you flipped through the pages

your chest fills with pride when you see a fairy you drew, a little puffy nose, and pointy ears, adorable.

flick

.

"So, anything going on?" Mikasa said with a smile as she stirred her iced coffee, her eyes flicking towards me for a second before falling back to the drink

"Uhm, yeah, the is college finally doing its job and-"

"OH, ENOUGH ABOUT THAT!" Armin practically screamed in the empty cafe, startling the lone worker

"I heard you got a girlfriend!" Mikasa squealed as she rested her wrists on her chin, leaning forward as she waited for an explanation

"who? do we know her? is she nice-" "Yes, yes I'll answer all your questions just let me finish my bagel-"

ᵈⁱⁿᵍ

are eyes turned to the door to see an auburn-haired girl standing with a determined look on her face, walking to the counter like a man on a mission as she announces her order like a prayer

her eyes flashed to me for a second, and then again. a double-take? why? who is this girl?

"so...you were saying?" Mikasa said, I shook my head and tried to find my voice as I go over the previous conversation, what were we talking about?

"oh, don't tell me it's Sasha now?" Mikasa said while rocking a cocky smile as she leaned back in her chair

Sasha? she knew this girl?

my eyes widen as I struggle to speak, Armin beating me to it as he asks the same question

"Uhh yeah? she is the foody remember? she shares a dorm with-"

ᵈⁱⁿᵍ

we all flinch at the sound, looking back to see 'Sasha' gone and...Mina.

"Eren?" She said with a slight laugh, walking over to our table as she invites herself to a seat

"O-oh hey Mina" I mumble, looking back at my melty iced coffee as she glows with happiness at this extraordinary accident

Armin nudges Mikasa whispering you can only assume "that's his girlfriend" -because the girlfriend was so highlighted in his tone the whole table couldn't help but hear it

you watched Mikasa's face turn, contorted as she can only hope it was a joke

"I'm gonna order! don't miss me too much" she giggles as she walks over to the counter

My head hung low as I waited for the degradation, 

"Eren...Sasha would've made more sense then...her"

"What's wrong with her?" Armin asked obliviously

"Armin...remember? her and Christa? the little the squad they made?" my eyebrows raised as she was speaking gibberish to me...Christa? squad?

their voices dropped to whispers as they talked about things I couldn't care less about

I couldn't care less about it because,

Why the hell did Sasha smell like Y/n?

.

【Ｙ／Ｎ'Ｓ　ＰＯＶ】

you flick the page to the side to see the next one, a guy, he had a muscular build with doe eyes, probably one of the more defining features of him was the bun that sat low on his head

you titled your head at the drawing, brows furrowed as you try to remember the man

you throw your head back as you try to think when you drew him, getting a flicker of the cafe in mind as you start to recall. You remember you were upset... just not why. sadly drawing the man until another one sat next to you.

you look back down that the sketch, twisting your lips in concentration but getting nothing

you chalked it up to be some guy you saw on campus, but still, it's just something about him...you knew him better than just a glimpse

but, it seems like he is just that, a glimpse. a lost snippet of your memory that you'll never recover

and maybe that was for the best.

Chapter 11

˜"*°•.˜"*°• see you soon •°*"˜.•°*"˜

an: Please dont expect this to be updated again for like a really long time..