#LITTLE PUFFY SLUGS

[teaboot]

You know when a character offhandedly mentions a food they like, and for all of eternity the entire Fandom acts like that's tge only thing they ever want or eat or dream about?

That is sincerely how I am about Pierogi

[jazjelspen]

my angel baby (special chapter!)

alastor w/ angel daughter reader

(notes: This special chapter gives us another glimpse at Alastor's relationship with his only daughter, you, and how unique his parenting skills are. Currently set in the 30s where you two are still living and breathing so far.)

( Welcome back to my fellow angel baby readers! Also much welcome to any newcomers!

Here is a new chapter for my alastor and daughter series, I know it's been such a long while and I understand if a lot of you have moved on qwq I did take quite awhile so I can't blame you. But school finally ended and it's summer! I have much more time on my hands now! If thee are people still interested I'm totally willing to focus my time on updating!

Thank you so much for staying tuned! Let's start then shall we!)

(caution: alastor being manipulative(?), more or so cruel, he makes you cry :( )

(Tags: @maksdust @willowwillflower @sunshinesetsstuff @0willowwisp0 @projectdreamwalker @1potato2rulethemall @just-here-reading @avitute @pooplyface1423 @insomniacfigure @mo-0-o @thekanrojimitsuri2 @nevermorekisses @wildfire153 @sirenetheblogger @potaturkey17 @barrythestrawberry041)

(p.s. NOT PROOFREAD, I also apologize if the pacing and writing is a bit weird qwq I have written in awhile so I'm slightly rusty..!)

It was yet another particular day in the 30s of New Orleans.

Word of mouth of politics, money, entertainment.. everything was nothing but as normal as it could possibly be for a seventeen year old girl.

You woke up to the sound of soft birds chirping yet soon being covered by human made sounds like chatter and metal clanking. You fixed yourself up once you got out of your puffy bed that kept you in sweet dreams each night.

You looked at yourself in the mirror as you fixed your chosen outfit for the day, a small smile cheering yourself up at how you felt a soft gleaming feeling in your chest.

'today will be a good day.' you thought.

...

Something was missing, there was a little gleam of excitement that you couldn't wait for.

You could start it anytime soon but-- it felt wrong.. it was wrong.

'maybe later, I can wait much later...'

Walking out of your bedroom and down the hall, passing by your father's study and your family bathroom ended up in between the kitchen and living area, your nose led you down to the kitchen.

It was a fairly early morning but your nose could smell your father's presence despite him leaving half an hour ago, your feet tapped against the hardwood floors as you went up to the stove with your eyes also noticing a note with writing on it on the counter beside the heating appliance.

Eyes flicked between the warm pot on the stove and the note, your nose took another long whiff of the comforting aroma to be a dish you absolutely love to have in the mornings.

Your hands went on to pick up the note and raised it up for your eyes to see, your father's neat and sophisticated writing made you smile as you started to read:

'Good morning my dove, I do hope you had the sweetest of dreams last night. I know you over exerted yourself the other day and I just hope you aren't slugging like a sloth this morning!-'

Giggling slightly, you continued reading.

'Nevertheless, I made you your favorite before I left off to work. Don't forget to tune in soon!

Love, Father Dearest.'

Right.. his radio show will be on soon!..

You smiled as you folded the note and tugged in into a small pocket/spot on your person before going on to plate yourself breakfast that your dad made and getting a glass of your preferred drink before skimming past the dining table to eat on the living room.. you weren't exactly allowed to eat here but it's not like your father was here to scold you.

Carefully yet hurriedly sliding your glass and plate on the small coffee table your father recently bought to 'bring more life to the house'. You would then scramble up to the home radio and flick with it for a bit until you finally reached your father's signal.

Turning up the volume to hear it loud and clear you proceeded to go back to your break fast and set yourself nicely.

A small opening of music played, his show's theme was a tune you knew by heart and you never missed a day where you wouldn't hum it to yourself.

"Good morning New Orleans!"

Cheered a familiar voice, your own responding back to him despite you fully knowing that he cannot hear you at all.. yet a part of you knows that to a certain extent he knows you're very much present.

"Morning papa!" you smiled as your father's voice continued on to start his daily morning schedule. You proceeded to pick up your eating utensil to start eating.

"This is Alastor! Your favorite radio host here to join you on today's morning broadcast to start off your day with the latest news and weather! Today it's described to be of a nice warm sunny day with little to no clouds, yet it is said to get very chilly once the sun starts to set. So prepare those coats and scarves ladies and gentlemen!-"

You took note of the weather for today, remembering that you needed to have a fire on in the fireplace by the time father came back as well.. he’d probably arrive cold.

He continued on talking about small updates on politics but more or so on the music and entertainment industry, maybe even a little bit of 'gossip' talk about famous figures in pop culture at the time.. talking about latest trends and such.. you sorta admired that about him.. you ate your breakfast whole as you listening to him while sometimes he faded into background noise here and there.

During both your times alive, Alastor always kept up with the latest rages and knew as much as he could about the most recent fads while he was kicking it, even as he raised you he somehow always kept up with all these details.. it was almost fascinating.

Speaking of fads..

You couldn't help but frown slightly.. you were home alone, you could just sneak a peek and father wouldn't know.. but guilt ate at you.

'..I'll do it after chores.. ' you thought.

You finally finished your food and drink and placed your glass and silverware on your empty plate, prepared to pick it up and take it to the sink until you couldn't help but listen to him a little longer until his broadcast ended, which should come to a break segment.

You sat on the sofa and rested your arms and head against the arm of the furniture, feeling slightly full and a bit sleepy from what you ate but in the end it was all worth it.

You let out a huff of air from your lungs out your mouth, the sigh full and heavy.

Your father's voice deafened slightly as your eyes closed for a few seconds, your mind wandering off to your current life and how you were mostly content with everything.

Mostly everything.

You were mostly satisified with your life, you were happy. How couldn't you? You have a warm home, a bed, food, a caring father, caring friends-

Well..

Everything minus the friends.

Sure, you have befriended a few people but your father never let you ever hang with anyone your age. Ever since you no longer needed babysitters, you would lack communication with young people such as yourself.

It was nice that a few people around your age recongnized you as being your father's daughter, you enjoyed people seemingly knowing you off the bat simply because of who raised you but.. father would constantly deter you away from befriending others.

According to him, because of your connection to him there could be people in the world who want to do you wrong.. of course you believed him, you never really knew any better.

Sometimes the loneliness kicks in, you yearn to befriend those similar to you and to have the life of the average ordinary teenager.

But father wouldn’t let that, not for a second.

That is- of course if he never finds your hidden teen fashion magazi--

“And to my lovely daughter, ______, who must be leisurely resting at home.”

Your eyes opened up as your head perked up at the mention of your name. Your heart skipped a beat—

“Ughhh.. daaadd!..” embarrassment creepep up your neck into your cheeks, highlighting the red in your face while you groaned and shoved yo ur face back into the arm rest.

“Don’t forget that we’ll be heading out soon! Get your shoes and coat ready! Don’t forget, father loves you dearly!

And with that, our morning broadcast concludes as the afternoon is now setting. Don’t miss out on our evening broadcast where we’ll be singing a few gentle tunes to soften your night!”

Right.. it’s been a few short hours. You always wondered how your father could never stop talking or run out of words while on air, another talent of his you supposed.

You sighed as you dragged your arms and legs to pick up your dirty dishes, head back to the kitchen and clean them up before father came home.

Oh! And you almost forgot— you also went to set up that small fire in your home’s fireplace. It was rather easy for you to install, you’ve done it many times. Alastor wouldn’t let you do this unless he knows to trust you well and that you know exactly how to do it without burning yourself or the house down.. so you did this part without a hitch.

Even let your arms warm up to the soft ever glowing flames as well..

You knew that he was now wrapping things up with his coworkers and heading back home so you sped slightly so you would be able to get ready on time.

Once you were done you checked the time,

‘1:51..’

You read on the nearby clock, father gets here at exactly 2:00 at most times.

You stood there for a minute, pondering if you should scratch that hidden itch to the back of your head or if you should patiently wait.

But you’ve been waiting since yesterday to look at it..

Should you risk it??..

"One second wouldn't hurt.." you mumbled to yourself, and just like that you were gone in a flash into your room.

You sped so fast to the point that you almost stumbled slightly as you tried to carefully slide down to your knees and your head peeking under your large and heavy dresser.

Your hand reached under and moved side to side with your fingers trying to grip onto the familiar texture of flimsy paper-

"Aha!-"

You exclaimed as you felt your fingers curl around the sudden sound of crunchy paper.

Pulling it out you were met with three various magazines that you saw around the shops as the ideal fashion magazines for teen girls such as yourself.

You remember how you wanted one before but father says that it's not appropriate for a 'pure and gentle soul' such as yourself.

Oh boy if only he knew you had them now.. he’d absolutely go bananas! He would never let you out to get groceries again!

You quickly flipped through the first few pages of the first magazine, it's thin pages full of color and various designs of trendy clothes, accessories, make-up, hair, even love and school advice here and there.

Heck- even the celebrity photos caught your full attention, stars like Clara Bow, Louis Brooks, Anita Page, Madge Bellamy, Jean Harlow, Constance Bennett.. the list could go on forever!

It captivated you, making you curious of the outside world.

You stopped at a certain page, one where you purposefully bent the corner of the page as to remember the spot you wanted to go back to.

It was a particular piece of clothing, one that was all the rage. You stared at it for a bit in admiration and yearning.. you wished father would let you wear something like that. It was that unique shape, style, color/pattern, accessories and other smaller details that simply made you want to wear!

You slowly flipped the page over to the back, a part of the magazine you haven't yet explored, and your eyes widened.

'Call ****! And get your free order of this piece's sewing pattern straight to your home as to make it yourself at home with your own unique choice of fabric, colors, and/or patterns! CALL NOW!'

"No.. way.." you mumbled breathlessly, the sudden realization hitting your head like a broken wine glass to a skull.

Free sewing pattern?.. make it at home?? This is just a GAS! Perhaps you could order it and while making it you could most definitely tweak it a bit!.. to make it into something father would approve of or even let slide!

"I.. I've GOT to get this!-"

Before you knew it you were yet again scrambling on your feet to run towards the living room to the telephone with your magazine in hand, excitement rushing into your veins up your face as you now knew what you had to do!

"With the patterns maybe I can make it myself! make it my own!.."

Your hands esthetically rested the magazine with the number attached on the table the telephone rested on and you quickly started to dial the numbers to the device one by one. You awaited eagerly..

"Cmon cmon.. pick up pick up..!"

...

"Hello this is Everygirls Magazine, what can I help you with?"

"H..Hello! I—“

The phone was snatched right from your hand, you still tried to reach for it due to confusion but then realized who it was that took the phone from your hand.

"Hello there! My apologies for the disturbance-" rang Alastor's voice, sweetly apologizing to whomever was on the other side of the line.

"-but we accidentally dialed the wrong number. Thank you!"

Alastor gently placed the phone back on it's stand, in an almost threatening type of way.

There was silence, your father stared at the magazine before slowly picking it up. You couldn't bear to look at his face, not with that smile you were sure was plastered across.

Minutes passed that felt like hours, the silence was deafening with the only thing cutting it was the sound of paper rustling.

"Father.. " you mumbled, your hands curled and resting onto your chest in slight fear "Are you.. alright?.."

With no words he turned towards the hall, his steps sharp and loud as if confirming his presence and his title in the house.

He was going straight to your room.

"Father?... Father!.." you rushed to follow him, lagging a bit behind him. "Father where are y--"

You couldn't help but softly gasp as you saw him walk into your room and bend down to grab the rest of the magazines to take a closer look. He did all this without saying a word-- and that smile never faltered either.. not for a second.

He flipped through the pages a bit erratically but eventually just clenched the thin booklets in his right hand before suddenly walking up to you and grabbing your wrist with his left. He dragged you with a sudden uncharacteristically harsh and aggressive demeanor.

He was getting tired of your growing rebelliousness. He hated it.

Why couldn't you just listen?.. he was trying to keep you safe! In how own way!

"Father!.. hey!-- that hurts!--"

“Listen here young lady.”

Alastor’s voice was stern and commanding, as if intending to intimidate you.

And it did, you stood there in disbelief and fear.. yet you haven’t fully realized that the both of you were now in front of the fireplace. Its flames dancing, waiting.

“There will be absolutely no secrets under my roof, no misuse of your allowance, no misuse of your time outside that you are more than privileged to have." He was angry, fuming even despite the vaguely cool tone he tried to emit--yet..

His smile, was still there.

As if he was mocking you..

"I told you many, many times that these magazines are full of garbage only intended to rot your head with silly and useless ideas.."

You feared him.

"You've been disobeying me more than I hoped. you're rotting from the inside--"

what.

"Father--"

It wasn't until you saw him turn only to throw your magazines into the fireplace, tossing them mercilessly as he knew you'd watch with distraught eyes.

Tears were brimming in your eyes, your hands held together against your chest as to hold back any sobs.

To him they were just magazines, to you was everything you wanted to know and more.

"I'd hate to do this to you little dove, but no daughter of mine will get consumed by filth that'll decay your pure little mind."

His neck snapped quickly towards you, making you jump slightly and how fast and abrupt it did so.

"Do you understand, dear?"

You opened your mouth to speak but to your dismay nothing came out, but you cried.

Just cried, without warning the tears you tried so hard to hold back just spilled out the moment there was silence after his last sentence.

Your hands snaked up to your face to cover your eyes and tears from being more visible than it already is.

"Oh, darling. Shh.. no need to cry.." Alastor said, you heard his footsteps come closer and you couldn't help but have your shoulders stiff up when you felt his arms go around your shoulders, one of his hands gently patting your head as if trying to soothe you.

After destroying your things.

Even while speaking, you could hear him smiling.. you just knew he was.

"I saved you, little dove. You truly have the world's greatest father.."

(THANK YOU FOR READING THIS SPECIAL CHAPTER OF MY ANGEL BABY!!! AAAAAAAA thank you sososos much! for anyone who's still reading this now thank you so much for looking for my pics yet again and thank you to anyone new for checking this out! much thanks! I once again apologize for the lack of proofreading this time and any other potential issues, I'll try my very best to get back in the zone!

I hope to see you in the next chapter of My Angel Baby! Where we will continue with it's current story in hell and the usual format of the flashbacks at the end as a treat, bye bye!!)

[sporadicthingcollection]

The Unskinny Bop (Buggy the Clown x F!Reader)

Summary: You're a really good cook and that's most of the problem. The rest of it is that he's too weak-willed to resist a treat right in front of him. Pairing: Buggy the Clown x F!Reader Rating: 🌶 Explicit 🌶 Word Count: ~6.1k Warnings: Body insecurity (male and female), cunnilingus, masturbation, PiV sex A/N: Dad Bod Buggy my beloved

---

She's playing all night And the music's all right Mama's got a squeeze box And Daddy never sleeps at night

---

It's his own damn fault, really.

He's the one who charmed the pretty diner cook — that’d be you — into joining his crew. It was an easy sell. You get off of the little podunk island you’re stuck on and he gets those delicious little puffy pastry things every morning.

What he didn’t expect was how well you made everything else. He's had to let his pants out three times in two months because of it.

Fluffy pancakes, perfectly slung hash, and a pie-looking thing with eggs and vegetables and cheese you called a “keesh” for breakfast. Sandwiches stuffed with veggies and meat, piles of pasta tossed in rich sauce, and thick slabs of juicy steak for dinner. Not to mention the mountains of snacks and treats in between.

He came to realize that food is a key aspect of your personality. It's just what you do. A dog chases its tail, Richie pushes things off of tables, and you flit around the deck like a pastry pixie, abducting people into the galley for taste-testing. 

Like right now.

His only warning that you're coming is a chirped “Captain!” before he's yanked through the door. He doesn't even have time to react before you've shoved a spoonful of something into his mouth.

He's not surprised. You do it to everyone who walks in. Food is how you show affection.

“Whaddya think?” you ask.

He swallows it too quickly to make a judgment, but it's sweet and that's all he needs to know. “Tasty.”

Every time you smile, he swears a flashbulb goes off somewhere. “Good,” you say. “It'll be even better tomorrow.”

He doesn't even bother to hide the whine. “What?”

“They're icebox pies, silly goose,” you say. “You gotta let ‘em chill.”

Another thing about you is that you're a tease. Form-fitting blouses done up just a button too short and your hair pulled back to show off your soft shoulders. A sweet little wink and a touch of the shoulder as you place a plate in front of him. And now feeding him something delicious only to tell him he has to wait until tomorrow to have more.

Your fingers snapping in front of his face jolt him back to the present. “Huh?”

“I asked if you wanted to lick the spoon,” you say.

Does he wanna lick the spoon? What kind of question is that? He plucks it from your hands. “Is the sky blue? Do bears shit in the woods? Am I the captain?”

You roll your eyes, but you smile. “Gonna stick these in the big cooler and I'll be right back for the other,” you say.

Carefully, you pick up two of the three foil-covered pie tins resting on the counter and turn on your heel.

He watches you closely as you round the corner and out of sight. Such a nice soft ass you've got. He desperately wants to grab it, but the one time you got goosed, you slugged the guy so hard he was out cold for the rest of the day.

Something pink, creamy, and flecked with seeds coats the wooden spoon. He drags his tongue along the back of it and--

Oh. Oh, that is good.

His taste buds scream in ecstasy. The slightest little moan escapes his lips. For the briefest of moments, he thinks it's better than sex and his cock twitches, but he regains his sense of self before going completely mad.

He licks and licks and licks until every little drop of pink, sweet, creamy filling is gone.

Frustration bubbles in his chest. Waiting all night for this is gonna suck. Especially since you probably won't be whipping it out for breakfast.

He is captain, though. He could order you to give it to him. But you'd almost certainly laugh in his face and he really, really doesn't want that.

The shimmer of foil catches his eye. The third pie sits on the counter. Untouched. Uneaten. Mocking him in its creamy deliciousness.

He looks around. You're nowhere to be seen.

...maybe just a little bit.

He scrapes barely half a spoonful from the top. Not enough to be noticeable, just enough to satisfy his sweet tooth.

Mmm. Smooth. Thick. Sweet. Fruity. Delicious.

...a little bit more can't hurt. Then he can wait until tomorrow.

He gets a piece of the fruit itself this time and the squirt of juice on his tongue is enough to make him spoon up another dollop. And then another. And then another.

This is why your pants are so tight, his inner monologue chides. This is why you need a new belt. This is why you wear that thing around your waist. Goddamn hedonist.

They're not that tight, he retorts. And they wouldn't be at all if you weren't such a damn good cook. It's all your fault for putting delicious food in front of him and looking so pretty while doing it.

He turns to lean against the counter, only to stop dead.

You're standing there, eyes wide and brows raised. You point at him, then at the pie tin, then back at him. “Are you... Eating the...?”

“No,” he says quickly. He realizes he's holding the pie tin. “No.”

Something odd glints in your eyes as you approach him. Gingerly, you take the pie and the spoon from his hands. He lets you. You step even closer.

You're so close to him, close enough for him to feel the rise and fall of your breasts. Hell, you're so short compared to him that he can see straight down your shirt.

His heart races. What are you going to do? Throw it out? Throw him out? Punch his lights out? Never speak of this again? 

To his amazement, you do none of those things. Instead, you spoon up a bit more of the pie filling and raise it to his lips. You blink up at him with big doe eyes.

He looks between you and the spoon a few times. This can't be right. You should be furious. He opens his mouth to say something, but it's forgotten as you shove the spoon in his mouth.

Why are strawberries so delicious? Why is he so weak? Why are your breasts so warm and squishy against him?

He swallows it and, as he opens his mouth to breath, you shove another spoonful in. It's just as good the twentieth time.

You offer him another. And another. And another. He accepts them all.

Until he goes to take another and you pull it away. He frowns at you. You pull it back farther and farther. He grabs your wrist and pulls your hand closer. You resist, but he's spent every day of his life trimming sails and hauling cargo.

He gets the spoon into his mouth and claims his prize with a smirk.

That glint in your eyes turns into a blaze. You drop the pie tin and spoon and they hit the floor with a clatter. Pulling your wrist from his grip, you grab him by the cheeks and yank him into a kiss.

He yelps against your lips and you take the opportunity to shove your tongue between them. Licking, lapping, pressing your soft, warm body right up against his.

Only a eunuch could resist this.

He kisses you back with the same fervor, grabbing your ass to lift you up a bit and it's so soft and pliant and perfect that he can't help but dig his fingers in.

Oh, it's everything he dreamed it would be. Your warm lips moving against his, your slick tongue dancing in his mouth, your soft palms gripping his jaw.

You've lapped up all the lingering sweetness in his mouth by the time he runs out of breath. He pushes you away and you whimper, your eyes wide and your shoulders heaving up and down.

Deprived of oxygen, he says something completely, absolutely, utterly brain dead. “Can I touch your tits?”

Instead of slapping him, you nod so hard your updo shakes loose. Curly strands fall in your face.

He blinks. “Wait, really?” You nod harder. “You sure?”

Something in you snaps. He can see it in your eyes. You grab him by the hand and damn near drag him out the door.

A quick trip up the stairs and across the main deck and he's pushing open the door to his quarters. You bustle past him and, once the click of the lock sounds, you grab him by the collar and yank him into another kiss, just as wet and desperate as the last.

He barely has enough time to shuck his coat about you throw him onto the bed, clambering atop him. You're a bit heavier than he expects. Not that he says that to your face, but you’re so light on your feet that he was starting to think you were filled with cotton candy. You're certainly sweet enough.

You yank his hat from his head and toss it aside. His bandana follows and his hair falls around his shoulders.

You suck in a breath. “So pretty.”

He shrugs. “Thanks-- mmph.”

He’s silenced by you standing on your knees to pull his hair out of its pigtails. This requires you to stick your tits in his face and oh my god they're like big marshmallows you smell like cinnamon.

He can't help himself. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you in closer, breathing deeply. So warm, so soft.

You giggle and the vibration makes his face tingle. You pull away to fiddle with your blouse buttons. “Wanna know a secret?” you whisper.

“Is the secret boobs?” Wow, what the hell was that? He needs to stop talking.

Lucky for him, you grin. You open your blouse and a whole lot more than he was expecting spills out. You toss the blouse to the side and plant your hands on your hips. “Va-va-voom.”

He's speechless. Shaken. Struck utterly dumb by the sight before him. All he can do is pull off his gloves and take them in his hands, pushing them, weighing them, squeezing them. There’s just… so much. Round, squishy, bouncy, threatening to surge right out of your lacy bra.

“I am but one man,” he mumbles.

That makes you giggle and that makes them jiggle. Like two sacks of...like a pair of...

...he can't think of a metaphor that isn't unpleasant, so he just sticks his face in there again before something else stupid comes out of his mouth. You laugh even more and it vibrates against his cheeks and his -- that... -- and if God struck him down at this very second he would die a happy man.

You let him linger a moment before throwing your weight forward to push him onto the bed. He whimpers like a kicked puppy as you pull away.

You nibble your lip and knit your brow up as you fumble with his belt. “I showed you mine, now you show me yours.”

He's flattered, but it's the only thing keeping his stomach in check. That can't come off yet.

He takes your hands in his own. “What's the rush, beautiful?” he says. He brings them to his lips, first one, then the other. He gently kisses your knuckles, your palms, your wrists. “This is your show. We got all night.”

You're cute when you huff. You're even cuter when your face screws up into a pout. You yank your hands away and plant them on your soft hips. “Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting for this?” you whine.

That throws him for a loop and a half. You've wanted him too? Someone as clever and cute and talented as you wanted... him? He's not used to that. Not used to that at all.

He's stunned just long enough for you to get his belt open. You move on to his vest straps next, making quick work of those. He sucks his stomach in just as you pull it open.

Your eyes widen, and you break into a grin as they sweep up and down his torso. “Oh, hell-o,” you say, voice breathless.

He's bright red, he just knows it. “Hi,” he replies dumbly. He hopes the strain in his voice isn't too obvious.

You grin even wider. Your fingers ghost up his sides -- thank God it's his feet that are ticklish -- right up to his pecs. You give them a squeeze, not unlike how he palmed your breasts a few moments ago. The slightest of squeaks escapes him.

“I knew you were hiding something good,” you say. You give his nipples a tweak -- he squeaks louder -- and trail your fingers down to his waistband. “Let's see what else you've been keeping from me.”

He knows you're talking about his dick. He panics all the same.

He shoots a hand out to kill the light -- that should buy him some time -- and throws his weight into flipping you over. You squeal as he pins you to the bed and yanks your pants off.

And then he realizes. Your breasts? They're proportional.

Beneath him is the most lovely expanse of body he's ever seen. Soft and warm and squishy and made of convex curves that flow from gentle arms and smooth shoulders right into a pair of plump hips and shapely thighs.

He can't form words. He can't form thoughts. All he can do is stare with his mouth dropped open. What else can you do when you're in the presence of the divine?

And then he sees your face. Your eyes wide and unsure as they dart around the room. Your lips pressed together into a terse line. 

“What?” he asks.

The line scrunches to the side. “I'm bigger than I ought to be, I know,” you say. You sound as if you've said it a thousand times.

He gets mad. He can't help it. It's what he does. “Are you shitting me?”

You flinch a little, though more out of surprise than fear. “N-No, I don't--”

He wants to say so many things. About how this is perfection. About how you are the most gorgeous human being he's ever laid eyes on. About how this is everything he's ever wanted in life. How you're everything and you shouldn't be so damn sheepish.

But he can't get it out. All that comes out is a raspy, rude, “Shut the fuck up.”

You stare at him in shock. And not the fun shock. It's the kind where you're not sure if you've stepped on eggshells or not.

Fuck it. No time for words. He grabs your thighs and pulls you forward, yanking your panties off and sweet holy shit you don't shave down there how could you possibly be any more perfect?

His mouth waters. His cock throbs. He dives in. He drags his tongue up your inner thighs, soft and smooth and sweet as that pie.

“Captain--!” A nip to the tender flesh turns the exclamation into a squeak.

“I said shut up,” he says between kisses.

Finally, you stop talking. You only pant and moan as he shoves his face into your pussy, lapping at your already sopping cunt. Did he do this? Are you this wet because of him?

He can't help it. He stuffs his hand down the front of his pants to fondle himself. Like the desperate bastard he is, his cock’s hard and leaking already.

He grinds against his palm as he gorges himself on you. Licking, sucking, swirling, punctuating with a few nips for good measure. It's all harmonized by the most beautiful sounds he's ever heard flowing from your lips, high-pitched and whiny.

He's not sure how long has passed when you grab his head and push him away. Time flows strangely between your thighs.

You've got a crazed look in your eyes again. “I want you inside me.”

He wants to say something clever, something cool and on brand for him, like it's not time for the finale yet or but my leading lady isn't satisfied.

But that would delay being inside you and he's too addled to think of anything. He jumps to his feet and wriggles out of his trousers and shorts. If he were more aware of himself, he'd be humiliated by just how much he has to shimmy and dance around to get them off his hips, but there's not enough blood in his brain to be self-conscious.

He kicks them away in whatever direction. Something crashes to the floor and he doesn't care. He looks back to your beautiful face--

You're wide-eyed as you look at him. He follows your gaze, right down to his--

In all the excitement, he's not sucking it in anymore.

Now it's his turn to be sheepish. He sucks it in again. But he can't hold it. Too much blood in his cock. He tries again with the same result.

Unfortunately for him, it's drawn your attention even more. Off comes your bra, and you don't take your eyes off his stomach the whole time.

Now he really can't think anymore. They're just so pretty and perfect. You're so pretty and perfect. He doesn't deserve this. This is a hell of a mismatch if ever there was one. You, divinity in the flesh. Him, a fat, dirty old clown.

This is a joke. It has to be. Someone put you up to this and now you're gonna back out and he's gonna let you because you deserve better so he better just rip the bandage off now and--

“Out,” he spits. “Get out.”

You blink at him in shock, then your face hardens. You speak with the firmness of a queen who's sick of her courtiers’ bullshit. “Get over here and get on top of me.”

You're mocking him. You gotta be. There’s no other explanation. “I said--”

You look him in the eyes. Something dangerous glitters there. “Buggy, get the fuck on top of me.”

It comes out at a hoarse yell. “Stop mocking me!”

You spring upwards and, with that wild strength that surprises him every time, you throw him on the bed. It squeaks as he bounces -- actually, that might have come from him.

You've got a look on your face he can only describe as murderous. “I did not wait two months for you to chicken out,” you say. You clamber onto him. “I did not wait two fucking months for you to finally man up and say something only for you to get self-conscious!”

Fear, anger, and arousal battle for control of his body. Arousal wins. You are hot as a griddle when you're mad.

You sit yourself on his belly, just above his cock. It twitches against your ass and he's sure it's made of clouds and he groans.

“Look at me,” you say.

He doesn't. He can't. He doesn't want to see the scorn that's surely in your eyes.

You learn forward and grab his chin, squeezing his cheeks and forcing him to look. Even in the dim light, he can see the sheen of sweat on your face and the rise and fall of your chest as you pant.

“If you want me to leave, I will,” you say, “but you will never get this chance again.”

No. No no no no. He wants you. He wants you so bad. He's never had perfection this close and it's never wanted him as much as you seem to.

“Do you want me to leave?” you ask firmly.

He shakes his head so hard it hurts.

You don't grin. You simply release his chin and lift yourself up. You lower yourself on his cock and, as he watches it disappear, inch by slick inch into your hot, wet pussy, the battle is over.

He doesn't care if this is a trick anymore. He's going to get his.

He grabs your thighs and pulls you down onto him, fingers sinking into the smooth flesh. You gasp as he bottoms out, gripping the swell of his hips. He doesn't care. They're called love handles for a reason.

And then you start to bounce.

It starts in your legs. Pumping your thighs to lift yourself up and drop down onto his cock. The jolt ripples through your whole body, from your thighs to your belly to your breasts.

He's transfixed. So transfixed that he doesn't even notice you grabbing his pecs, squishing and squashing them between your gentle fingers. You tweak his nipples and he damn near howls.

He can't let you have all the fun. He pops his hand off to swirl his fingers around your clit.

But you don't cry out or moan. You start babbling. Something about eating and how hot he is and how much you love that he loves your cooking and it's all interspersed with pleasant-sounding gibberish. But he doesn't hear a word of it. You're too warm and slick and it goes in one ear and it the other.

But the sounds. God, the sounds of him sliding in and out of you. Wet and disgusting and it makes his mouth water and his cock leak and that just makes it wetter--

The slap of skin on skin and wet on wet and his moans and your chattering all mingle into a delicious symphony. 

But it stops all too soon. Your breath hitches and you bend at the waist, singing his name like a songbird, the same little melody over and over. “Buggy, Buggy, Buggy...!”

His name dissolves into little yips and gasps as your cunt flutters around his cock. It's so good. Better than treasure. Better than adrenaline. Better than a full belly after a hard day's work--

He realizes he's not wearing a condom. Fuck. “Where ya want it?” he grunts.

You don't hesitate. “In me,” you say between gasps.

In you? Inside you? Spilling his hot, wet cum into your hot, wet cunt? Your cunt? Soaking it? Seeding it? Making it even messier and sloppier and filling you up so much that--

He almost pops right then and there, but he bites his lip. “Nuh-uh. Where?”

“In me!” you spit.

He whines the most unmanly of whines. He will. He won't. He wants to. He can't. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Captain,” you whimper, “Buggy, please...”

He looks up at you. Your hands on his chest, your breasts heaving with each breath, your little belly rising and falling, your luscious thighs on either side of his hips, your lips dropped open as you pant, your bush surrounding his fingers--

God damn it.

He throws you to the side as he pops like a champagne cork. A few drops end up on you, but most of it splatters onto the underside of his belly, where it's started obeying gravity.

One hand grips the sheets and the other grips something warm and his hips buck and his head swims and his mouth makes utterly pathetic noises. Yes yes yes yes yes yes yes.

He crashes back to earth like a meteor strike. All he can see is white as he flops back onto the mattress, gasping for breath.

He has no idea how long it takes for him to recover. But something soft tickles the knuckles of his detached hand. A shudder racks him as he turns his head towards you.

Post-orgasm haze still clouds your eyes, but they're big and round as a doe’s as you cradle his hand close to his face. You press your lips to his knuckles.

He gives a weak smile. “Hi.”

You giggle. God, he loves that giggle. He wishes he could hear it every day. He'd put it in a sea shell if he could, carry it around in his pocket and press it to his ear whenever he feels lonely. Or spin it into cotton candy. It's certainly light and sweet enough. Or whip it up onto a foam and fold it into batter like he watched you do that one time for cake...

His stomach growls. He needs to stop thinking about food.

You kiss his knuckles again, still smiling so very sweetly. “Are you alright?”

“Fuckin’ amazing,” he mumbles. It's the truth.

Detaching his other hand, he feels around on the floor. There's a towel here somewhere... Unless he threw it on the chair... Or over the folding screen...

He finds it slung over the door of his wardrobe. He offers it to you, but you shake your head. “After you.”

Suit yourself. He mops his belly up as you watch. Shit, this was a big one.

Satisfied, he tosses the towel away. He rolls over to take you in his arms, but he finds nothing. You're standing up, pulling his coat on and closing it around your front.

“Get over here,” he says. “That's an order.”

“I gotta clean up,” you say.

He panics. He can't help it. His voice quivers like a child's. “Don’t leave. Please.”

You give him a kind look that almost makes him cry. “I’ll be right back,” you coo. “I promise.”

He doesn't want to be alone. Not now. Tears prick at his eyes and his lip quivers. But you're out the door before he can stop you.

You're not coming back. He knows it. He disappointed you. How could he not? You're beautiful. You're divine. You're perfect.

And what is he? A fat old clown.

He lays there, shivering in the cold air, too afraid to move. Too aware of his shortcomings. Too aware of every flaw, every defect, every deficiency. His temper. His teeth. His nose. His appetite. His everything.

The door opens. The moonlight frames your silhouette for a moment before you close the door behind you.

He nearly sobs with relief. You don't notice, thankfully, as you shuck his coat.

He launches his arms at you as he sits upright, pulling you into an embrace as he falls back down. He lays you to the side, slipping under your arm and tucking his head in the crook between your chin and chest.

You thread your fingers through his hair. “Don't tell me you thought I wasn't coming back.”

He murmurs something he forgets as soon as it leaves his lips. You're so soft. So warm. So comfortable. And he's so exhausted.

You giggle. You kiss his forehead and slide your fingers through his hair. “Bonwee, sha.”

He has no idea what that means, but you say it with such warmth that it must be something good. He snuggles up close to you.

Rocked by the sea and calmed by your heartbeat, he drifts off.

---

He sleeps well, but he stirs a few times.

The first is when you shift out from under him, mumbling something in a language he can't place. You roll onto your side, your back to him. He doesn't like that at all and pulls you in to be the little spoon. You squeak. It's cute. He doesn't care that his belly presses against your back. 

He stirs again when his arm falls asleep and he rolls onto his side. You follow him this time. You press yourself right up against his back, breasts and belly and thighs squishing against him. You're so warm.

The final time is as the gray light of dawn slips through the windows. He's shaken from a dream and he grumbles.

“I gotta go get started on breakfast,” you whisper. “Just wanted to let you know I wasn't lovin’ and leavin’.”

That's so sweet of you. “You're so sweet,” he mumbles sweetly.

You giggle. “See you in a few hours.”

You kiss the tip of his nose and he's not even upset.

===

You had a lovely night, but you're walking a bit funny and it's making your usual bustling around the galley just difficult enough to be annoying. And the visions of your stark naked captain filling your head are making it even harder.

You're a very simple woman, like your mother before you. You like men. You like food. You like men who like food. You especially like men who like your food.

Captain Buggy's a man. Captain Buggy likes food. And he loves your food, if his constant hovering in the galley is anything to go on. And he loves it a lot and it's showing.

The memory of him lying beneath you, his warm hips against your thighs, his belly wobbling as you bounce atop him, his head thrown back in bliss, surprises you just as you're tossing a flapjack. It slams into the ceiling and stays there.

Your fellow cook, a swarthy fellow going by Bloomer, casts the new ceiling decor an odd look. He turns it on you. “You alright, girl?”

You know what? Screw this. Everyone else can handle breakfast. “I'm gonna go wake up the captain,” you say. “How's he like his coffee?”

Milk and two cubes of sugar, he tells you. You put in cream and three cubes. Man's gotta get his strength back from last night, you tell yourself as you set off across the deck. 

You knock three times on the door. No answer. You knock harder. Still nothing. You take that as a sign he may be dead and enter just in case.

Captain Buggy is, in fact, quite alive, if not also naked. He's in front of the mirror... or his face is, anyways. His body is turned completely around as he examines the reflection of his rear. He grabs a handful, thick fingers sinking into the squish. He gives it a jiggle and it wobbles.

You don't blame him. It's a great ass. Perfect for grabbing and digging your nails into. Next time, you're making him get on top so you can do just that. 

But you prefer his front. That's where all the good shit is. Soft, muscular pecs, perfect for grabbing and groping, covered in a dusting of hair that trails down to his soft belly.

His hands go there next, pinching his sides. He gives them a shake and his belly bounces. 

That little zing shoots up your gut and into your throat, that one you always get around men like him. That same one as when you first saw him from across the diner, draining a pitcher of beer. The same one you had last night when you walked in on him eating pie filling. And now, watching him preening after a wild romp.

...or you thought he was preening. He turns his body around and as his hands go to his face -- he's got a stronger jawline than you'd expected when he's barefaced -- you notice his laugh lines deepen. He lets out a grunt of disgust as his lips curl.

You frown. He's saying ugh as if you couldn't keep your hands off of him last night. Coaxing him in closer with pie filling just so you could feel his body molding against yours. Grabbing his cheeks and yanking him in for a kiss you'd been craving for months. Dragging him to his cabin and fucking yourself on him while you dug your nails into whatever soft flesh you could grab.

You close the door with a firm check of the hips. The slam startles him, but he calms as he sees you. Somewhat. There's still an uneasy look in his eye.

“G’morning,” he says. A little blush blooms across his cheeks. He avoids eye contact.

He'd be cute if he wasn't pathetic. You set the coffee down on the nearest surface and wrap your arms around his waist, resting your hands on the swell just above his hips and resting your cheek between his shoulder blades.

“Thank you for finally taking the hint,” you say into his skin.

He chuckles, a low, vibrating thrum. “I never miss a cue, baby.”

Lies. You've been trying everything. Flirting. Making his favorite food. You even went braless one day on a supply run with him and he didn't even blink. Idiot.

“Then why'd it take you so damn long?”

He scoffs. “Had to make sure I wasn't seeing things,” he mumbles.

He's so pathetic. Like a wet cat. You can't help but squeeze his sides--

He jumps away from you like you gave him an electric shock. “Stop it!” he spits.

You blink. “Stop what?”

“Stop-- Stop mocking me!”

You blink a few more times. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

The flush deepens along with his scowl. “Quit touching me like that.”

Not what he was saying last night. “Like what?”

“Stop grabbing my--” He huffs. “I know I’m fat. Quit rubbing it in.”

Pardon? Did you hear that correctly? Does he know who he's talking to? You try to keep your tone even, but you were never good at that. “Permission to speak freely, Captain?”

He blanches. “...No.”

Too bad. You grab him by the waist and throw him onto the bed. He yelps as he bounces, then once again as you straddle his waist.

“Buggy. Darling. Cher,” you say. “Do you really think I would have fucked you if I didn't think you were hot shit?”

He simmers like a boiling pot with the lid still on. “Maybe!”

Pour l’amour de Dieu, c’est un contraieuse et un tête de cabri et pourquoi ce clown so fucking stupid?

You scoot backwards, kissing your way down his chest. Each one gets a tiny grunt from him until you get to his belly. He growls and tries to roll away, but you hold fast. You gently kiss just above his navel, then the tuft of blue hair right below it.

You peer up at him. He peers back, brow knit up, questioning you.

You press your face into his navel and blow a raspberry against his skin.

Buggy squeal-laughs. You've never heard him make that noise before and it's very cute. You do it again and he devolves into laughter.

“Sto-o-op!” he cackles.

You do not. You do it again and again until he's wheezing and not scowling any more. You stare up at him, fingering the tuft of hair below his navel.

He comes down slowly, cackles turning to giggles to breathless gasps. He finally sees you staring. “What?”

“Feeling better?” you ask. He huffs, but he does nod. “Good. Now stop being mean to my favorite captain.”

He frowns a bit at that. “Who’s that? Alvida? When'd she come up?” You keep staring at him. He blinks. “Wait, you mean--?”

Gros couillion. “No, the other guy I fucked last night,” you say. He bristles. Fuck’s sake. “Yes, you!”

He blinks again. The flush returns. “You mean that?”

“I wouldn't be on top of your naked-ass body if I didn't.” You place lean in close, the tip of your nose bumping his. “And you have a very nice body, Captain.”

Just for emphasis, you grab his side, right at the fleshiest part, and give a hard squeeze. He jumps, but nods.

He tries to dive in for a kiss, but you pull away. If you do that, you'll be here all morning. You stand up, offering him your hands. “C’mon, breakfast is ready,” you say.

“I'm not hungry.” His stomach growls. He glares at it. “Shut up.”

Trump card time. “Guess I'll just have to feed all those beignets to Richie, then.”

His eyes go wide. “...you made bin-yays?”

He still can't pronounce it right, but he's getting there. “Sure did,” you say coolly. You examine your nails. “Won't be good for much longer.”

His stomach growls again. “And that pie?” 

“Should be good to go, but you better be quick. They'll go fast.”

He jumps to his feet and licks his lips. “Well, keep some for me! Lemme-- Lemme get dressed and I'll be right down.”

“Don't take too long,” you say.

You turn to leave, but he grabs your hand. With a yank and a twirl, he pulls you flush against him and into a kiss.

You melt right into it. Rough lips move against yours, his warm body molds against you, strong arms holding you tight, belly pressing against yours... his nose squishing into your cheek. Wonderful, all of it.

You separate with a pop. He grins at you and wipes his wrist along his lips. “Didn’t think I was gonna let you leave without that?”

You blush. Now he decides to be slick. “Just get dressed.”

You twirl him around and, with a flat hand, you swat his ass. Just to see it quiver. The slap echoes in the small room and he jumps, but you can't stick around to see the look on his face.

You've got work to do.

---

Special thanks to my bf, Meg, and Ollie for beta-ing!

To the Mastahpost | To the Tip Jar

[luv-loo]

Christmas with Neville Longbottom

Masterpost || Harry Potter Masterlist

Neville Longbottom x GN!Reader

Headcanon/Drabble: The first time with your new boyfriend during the festive season

Warnings: These drabbles/headcanons are directed towards a teen audience, as this takes place during Hogwarts schooling. You can read it as a backstory as sorts, but keep in mind the reader and Neville are minors. Neville’s parents and backstory is part of this headcanon, so be weary when reading.

Notes/Anything Else: Neville’s my favourite and a major comfort of mine. With Christmas coming I was thinking about this little thing hehe, hope you enjoy ! I haven’t done a format like this before… is it a drabble ? Idk…

Christmas times always been a iffy topic to Neville.

You noticed it when the Christmas holidays were coming closer, whenever someone would ask what each other plans were during the time. The teen would slug down a bit in his spot and have a dejected face for the conversation. You didn’t pry… to much.

When you two started dating your 5th year, you really took notice of it.

You found him in the common room, looking on the brink of tears, curled next to the fire place.

It broke your heart. “Why is my love so sad?”

You sat on the floor in front of the chair he was curled in. You asked what was wrong.

The common room was empty as everyone was packing to leave for the holiday, but you still whispered.

Neville didn’t say anything for a solid 10 minutes. All that was heard was the crackle and pops of the fire place.

“… my nan likes to have Christmas with my mum and dad.”

You turned to face him, his chubby cheeks had tears slowly rolling down. Your heart was breaking even more.

Neville didn’t live with his parents, you knew that, but he never talked about what had happened with them or even if they were alive.

“Nan says they’ll know who I am when I’m there.” Sniffles were coming in clumps now.

You sat up immediately and placed yourself on the arm rest next to him, taking hold of his hand and squeezing tight, a gesture you know will calm him down. “What do you mean by that? Love, you can tell me anything.”

Sobbing was echoed through out the room, you squeeze his hand impossibly harder. He explains St Margo’s, and how they’ve lost themselves. (You could tell he was holding back, but you wouldn’t dare push him any further, with all he’s said already)

A great pain of sadness deep in your chest gathered. By that point forward, you made sure your boyfriends Christmas were special.

You brought your own Christmas decor from home and set them up in the green house (with permission). A small Christmas tree with red & gold ornaments, with present, sweets and all Neville favourite plants surrounding it.

The first time your brought him to your little set up, you bouncing on the heels of your feet while you told him he can open his eyes now.

First, shock, then disbelief and lastly utter gratefulness crossed his face when tears started coming down.

You embraced him in the tightest hug, wiped his tears away and kissed his cheek.

Carefully taking him by the hand, you lead him to a little picnic blanket laid out with sweets of all sorts that you brought last time in Hogsmeade.

“I don’t deserve you at all.” He whispered, wiping his, now, puffy red eyes. You stop, turned to him, and cuffed his cheeks.

“Don’t tell me you don’t deserve anything, especially me, because that means you deserve everything.”

[word-wytch]

Don't Stand So Close To Me — Chapter 8

Eddie x Teacher!Reader

Chapter 8/? 5.5k. Series Masterlist

✏︎ Eddie goes to a Halloween party on business while you have a different sort of celebration. 

✏︎ Series Summary: Forced to move back home to Hawkins after your fiancé cheats on you, you begin to fall in love again with an audacious 20 year old metalhead, only there’s one problem — he’s still in high school and you’re his English teacher.

While you struggle starting over in a place you never thought you would return, Eddie struggles feeling stuck in a place he can’t manage to leave — until you offer to help him. Of all the lessons learned, the most important are the ones you teach each other.

✏︎ Series CW: forbidden romance, slow burn, smut (18+ mdni), true love, internal conflict, student-teacher relationship, 10 year age gap, mutual pining, sexual tension, emotions, drama, angst, character development, happy ending :)

Chapter warnings: heavy grief, heavy angst, depictions of depression, sibling death mention, drunk driving accident mention, drugs, alcohol, bullying

Saturday, October 26th 1985

There was a shadow on your heart.

It was there from the moment you woke up. A fog that made you not want to leave your bed. Not want to do anything at all. 

You didn’t, not for a long while until your bladder forced you to. And when you did, you would move from room to room in a daze. Eyes unfocused, hair and teeth unbrushed. You would search for your motivation all day, what there was left of the day anyway.

You hoped that you would find it. Somewhere in the pile of dirty dishes or in the half eaten microwaved breakfast burrito that you could barely stomach, still sitting on your table getting stale and dry — waiting for you to come back. The quiet, hopeful part of you thought that maybe you would.

Maybe it was somewhere in the pile of papers you still had yet to grade, or in the laundry you still had yet to fold. Maybe if you sat in front of the TV long enough the right song would find you on MTV and you would feel something else besides numbness and self-loathing.

David Bowie couldn’t do it. Neither could Whitney Houston. Michael Jackson tried too, over and over. You were tempted to reach for the remote if you heard “Thriller” one more time.

You wanted to murder the sky. Grey and indifferent, the pale, cold light only amplifying the heaviness inside you. Was it mocking you? Casting down drizzle, unable to expend enough for rain?  

You knew what day it was. You figured after 17 years it would be just another one, but feared for the same all at once. 

Numb as you felt, your head was anything but empty. There was all sorts of noise in there. It was loudest when the commercials came on. There was one in particular — an ad for Pumpkintown, a local attraction at one of the many farms that surrounded Hawkins. Every half hour you would hear little voices sing the familiar jingle, see their bright puffy coats as they ran through corn mazes, see their little, uncoordinated hands painting pumpkins and eating kettle corn.

Grief, as you would come to know it, was loudest in the great what if. In the wondering what might have been if things had turned out differently. Would you have nieces or nephews? Would you be on your way to Pumpkintown with them instead of sitting alone on your couch wanting to cry? You would never know.

The phone rang. It cut through the air, shrill and intrusive. You sat there for a few rings, contemplating letting it go but you were afraid the noise would just return moments later. That it wouldn’t leave you alone. 

You peeled yourself off of the couch and slugged into the kitchen. The breath you took before picking the phone up off the receiver was ragged. 

“Hello?” you answered, your first word all day.

“Hi dear, it’s mom.”

“Hey mom.” You wondered if she could hear the difference between a feigned smile and a real one. 

She wasn’t really listening though. Not that there was much to listen to in the weak “Oh yeah?”s  and the handful of “That’s nice”s you had to offer. She would talk about her book club and the drama she overheard from a friend of hers. She would talk about canning vegetables and the pumpkin pie she made the other day, how you really ought to come over and have some before it’s all gone.

“Anyway, thought I would just catch up with you,” she said finally. “How are you?”

The question surprised you. You wondered for a moment if you should answer honestly. 

“Oh, you know,” you said with a sigh, twisting the cord around your finger. “Just thinking about Mickey.” 

It was a name that was rarely said anymore. It was met with silence, rare for her. 

“Yes, it is that day,” she said finally. 

You knew she couldn’t have forgotten. You wondered about the noise in her head too, if gossiping and canning vegetables helped quiet the great what if. She hardly ever spoke about it since it happened. That always bothered you.

“I miss him,” you said weakly.

Her sigh filled another pause. “I do too.”

______

Eddie flicked his lighter and ignited the end of his cigarette. He leaned up against his van in Gareth’s driveway and took a long drag, looking around the neighborhood at the carefully groomed lawns. The wet, fallen leaves brought down by the wind the only thing that littered the pristine sidewalk. 

He exhaled the smoke into the damp night air, watching as it wafted across the driveway, up toward the glowing street lamps. 

The garage door startled him when it opened. 

Gareth hobbled out, lugging an amp. “Hey man, sorry it took me so long. Jeff left this here for you, he got his fixed so he doesn’t need it anymore.”

Eddie tapped the ash off the end of his cigarette and slid open the side door of the van. “Thanks, uh, you can just slide it in behind the back seat.” 

Gareth waddled over and set the amp down with a heavy thud as Eddie opened the driver’s side door and crawled in. He took another drag of his cigarette as Gareth fussed with the amp, sliding it back in the cabin behind the long bench.

The movement paused for a moment. “Dude what’s up with all the napkins back here?”

Eddie whipped his head around. “Don’t touch those.”

Gareth looked at him — wary and wide-eyed as he slowly exited the side of the van, coming around to take the passenger’s seat like he was afraid to even ask.

Eddie held the cigarette between his lips as he dug through the pile of tapes in the center console. “Bingo,” he said, popping Motörhead’s Overkill into the tape player and slamming it shut. He flicked his wrist and the Chevy Nomad roared to life.

Eddie banged his head as Gareth air drummed the solo to the opening track. He cranked the shift stick and hit the gas to back out. They took off, cruising down the dark suburban street with a roar and a rumble. 

“I just stopped at Rick’s right before you so we’re gonna have to roll as we go,” Eddie shouted over the music, tapping his hands against the steering wheel to the beat.

“Sounds good man,” Gareth shouted back, hammering at the dashboard with his hands.

By the time they arrived, the party was already raging. People still arriving in droves, parked cars piling up in the woods and down the long street outside of Tina’s house. Typically Eddie liked to arrive fashionably late, but after he and Gareth had to wade through a sea of bodies just to find Tina, he was having regrets about that. The thing was, Eddie needed a place to be for his operation. A table and a place to sit and roll was not only preferable, but rather necessary considering the party size.

Thankfully she wasn’t wearing a wig or a mask or they might have never found her on the back porch. Instead her mousey brown hair was styled in a 60s bob and tied back in a headband, completing her go-go girl look.

She led them into the packed living room.

“Move, dealer needs the table,” she shouted over the music, nudging the guy in the toga parked on the loveseat with her white go-go boot.

Her demand was met with looks of annoyance, but Tina just stood there with her arms crossed until they resigned, leaving only wet rings behind on the glass coffee table.

“All yours, boys.”

Would people know where to find him? Should he put up a sign? He supposed the best he could do was Tina’s word of mouth and their ongoing operation for everyone to see in the middle of the living room.

It turns out that was all he needed. They would sell for $5 a pop. And probably quicker if Gareth wasn’t so shitty at rolling.

“Woah, woah, man that’s like way too much. Here—” He took the overflowing paper out of Gareth’s hands and demonstrated. “You gotta use the filter as a guide, and start with like half as much dude.” Eddie rolled it in his fingers until it evened out, then he tucked the paper behind the filter licked along the edge to seal it, twisting the end in a final flourish. “See? Like that.” 

 Gareth snorted and took a swig of beer. “Ok Edward, master of the roll.” 

Eddie gave him a look, doing a piss poor job at hiding his smirk. “I mean the point is to make money, man. If you roll them too fat it not only looks terrible but we’re just giving away weed.”

Gareth sighed and looked at him over the can at his lips. “Got it, sensei.”

“Good ‘cause we’re selling fast.” Eddie loaded up the grinder, feeling the grit of the resin as he twisted it in his hands. 

His mind wandered, as it always did, to you. He thought about you at a Halloween party. Wondered what sort of costume you would have. Probably something smart like Nancy Drew, or geekishly obscure like Jane Eyre, or maybe you would go the fantasy route and be Arwen, elf ears and all.

He wondered how you would be at a party. Pensively sipping your drink, making keen observations about the partygoers. Maybe you’d have fun too, after a few more. After a song you liked came on and he dragged you out of the corner to dance like fools. 

He wished that you could be here. Well, maybe not here watching him sell weed but maybe in another timeline. In the absence of the wall that was built between you long before either of you had any say in it. 

Eddie tapped the contents of the grinder out onto his rolling tray and got to work.

There were so many people that had come by his table that they were all starting to blend together. How many devils, ghosts, and cowboys would he see before the night was over? It was yet to be determined and the night was very young.

What was hard to miss was the gang of jocks in leather jackets and white t-shirts, hair slicked back like greasers. There were at least five of them, and they all came in at once together like some wannabe boy band, lead by none other than Jason Carver.

It was also hard to miss the angel standing next to him. Literally. Chrissy Cunningham in huge feather wings, a tight white dress, and a sparkling gold halo.

He was certain that his gaze would be lost in the sea of people. He hoped that it would be. Hoped that they would walk right past and never even see him. 

But Chrissy did. By some split second miracle, some sixth sense.

Her eyes found his from across the room. She smiled at him, bright and blinding.

______

The darkness in the room alarmed you when you opened your eyes, struggled to rather. Bleary and squinting against the white light from the television, you rubbed the sleep from them. 

You sat up on the couch and wiped the drool off your face, wondering what time it was. The clock on your wall said something like 8:30, but it was hard to tell and your eyes were still adjusting.

Your stomach growled and you thought about the breakfast burrito still sitting on your kitchen table. It was still the last thing you had eaten. You ran your tongue across your teeth, scummy and in need of brushing. The pile of laundry was still there too, sitting crumpled in a basket next to you. The papers still sitting in a pile on your coffee table, untouched.

“Thriller” was playing. Again. Your hand itched for the remote but it was buried somewhere in the couch so instead you just sat there. You sat there and watched like you had done half a dozen times already today. You watched as Michael Jackson danced around like a werewolf in his red suit, unable to peel your eyes from the screen.

You watched him and thought about Eddie Munson at a party. 

Thought about him in a darkened basement, the air thick with smoke and sound. Crowded with people like him who wanted to get away, muffled music coming through ceiling from upstairs. He would be there, strewn across a couch or leaning against a wall. Cigarette in one hand, beer in another. He would bring the bottle to his lips and look at you with those dark eyes. Lids heavy as the buzz washed over him, relaxing deeper into the space he occupied. He would drape his arm across the back of the couch, beckoning you to sit closer.

It was easy to imagine. How easy it would be to slide up next to him. To lean in a little too close. To feel the heat from his body as he talked about music, his bright voice filling the space between you, what little there was. To catch the scent of his clothing, of his skin as he leaned closer to talk over the noise, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear. 

How easy it would be to turn your head and catch those lips in yours. Soft, plush, and needy. You imagined how his tongue would feel as it coaxed against yours. Smoke acrid, the taste of beer still lingering on it. 

It was easy to imagine those strong hands of his, how they would feel gripping your thigh or your hip as he pulled you closer. Those tendons and bones you recalled so vividly when he’d graced you with the chance to touch him. You could imagine how they would feel other places.

It was easy to imagine that just about any girl would see him and want the same thing.

And who would he be to say no? To some girl dressed as a cat or a rabbit barely wearing any clothes, looking at him like she wanted to take a bite. 

Your stomach lurched.

It would be easy. Easy for them to find a quiet place to take things further.

You imagined, for a moment, what it would be like to be her. To be in that darkened basement, amidst the laughing and shouting and chaos of others around you too wrapped up in their own world to notice how his hands are wandering. How his lips are wandering too. Dizzying as they track across your jaw, down your neck. How his tongue lathes at the skin there, the buzz from the drink in his other hand only amplifying the need you can feel in his teeth. 

He would look at you with those dark, lust-blown eyes and you would know exactly what he wants. He would mutter in your ear and let his palm slip from around your waist only to take your hand. To lead you out of the darkened basement to a bedroom, or out to his van. 

You imagined those strong shoulders of his. How they felt under his t-shirt and how they would feel without it. If he would even bother to remove it or if his need would render that too inconvenient.

It wouldn’t be that hard — to find a spot to sit in the back of his van. Dark and quiet save for the deep bass and muffled voices from the party raging on in the distance. To lose what little clothing you had on and crawl atop his lap. To wrap your arms around those solid shoulders as his curious fingers explored you below. 

How could he help himself? When you’re right there, wanting him so evidently. When it’s something he can feel with his fingers and taste on his tongue when those fingers leave your heat. Who would he be to stop himself from giving you what you want? 

And his voice. Would his voice still be as bright as he sunk himself into you or would it be colored differently — shaded with hoarseness as his heavy sighs filled the space between you? How would it color the thick night air as the pressure mounted inside of him? Would he use his words? Would he be able to when the pressure was too much? What new colors would there be then? 

It was easy to imagine. 

So easy that it made you sick. 

It sat in the pit of your stomach and gnawed at any fleeting hunger you might have had when you woke up. Like a tapeworm.

It whispered things to you. That he would be better off with a girl his own age anyway. That you were a short-lived fascination in his fast life. That he would grow tired of you too. Things that sounded truer the longer you sat with them in the darkness of your living room.

There was shame too. Shame for even letting yourself get to this point. For feeling this way about your student of all people. For having hope to begin with. After all, he had done so many things to give it to you.

You thought about all the parties you never went to. All the darkened basements you were never led away from. All the colors that you never got to hear, and taste, and touch in sacrifice for good behavior. 

It was an experience that you would give anything to have. 

You thought about Eddie Munson and his boyish smile. The way his hand felt when it took yours. The kindness in his eyes. The shame you saw in them too.

You thought about him coming home from the party. Cruising down a dark, winding road in his van, taking the curves and bends with a reckless abandon, fueled by the music pounding in his speakers and the vices in his veins. You thought about his wild hair catching the wind from the window he lowered to taste the rush of being alive.  

You thought about him taking one of those bends too tightly. How top-heavy vans could be. How slick the roads were. How easy it would be not to notice someone else coming around the corner.

And just like that you were in your pyjamas again, barefoot on the carpet of your childhood living room. Your heart pounding into your throat as you watched your parents from behind at the front door. The flashing of red, white, and blue from outside the big front window the only light in the darkness. It streaked across your family photos and painted the paneled walls. 

You wondered what they would say about him. What all the other teachers would say when he didn’t show up to school on Monday. What the whole town would say when their papers and televisions told them he would never show up to school again.

Would they change their tune or would it only make them sing it louder? That he was always trouble. That it was his own fault. That it was only a matter of time. That he had no future anyway. You could almost hear Ms. O’Donnell. Almost hear the half-hearted comments from the others about what a shame it was, the truth of their feelings masked with a weak display of sympathy for a day or two.

Would he amount to nothing more than a warning? A cautionary tale at school assemblies? An example of how not to be?  

Your hands gripped the couch, stomach churning. 

It was easy to imagine. As easy as it was to remember.

______

Eddie had never been to a house party that wasn’t obnoxious. Obnoxious was kind of the point.

He wasn’t sure if it was the shitty music, or the fact that people kept kicking the back of the loveseat he was stationed at, or the drunken caterwauling from the sexy inmate in the corner as she sloshed her drink all over the carpet. Maybe it was the kick drum that pounded in his chest and forced him to smell the beer on the breath of his buyers as they slurred their orders.

He brought his own can to his lips and took the last swig of the warm beer that remained in the bottom of it. His arms felt like jello. Even still, he wished that he was more numb than he was. His mouth was cotton dry and Gareth still had not returned with the drinks that he said he was going to get half an hour ago. He was well past the point of agitated. 

The whole room was packed shoulder to shoulder and smelled like cigarettes, beer, and sweat. He was cornered in it, but he couldn’t leave his goods sitting out without someone to watch them and he couldn’t leave either or he would forfeit his spot. Where was Gareth? He was going to strangle him. 

Eddie glanced around the packed room, his heart kicking up in a panic. Hindsight pierced his haze. He should have brought Jeff too, but he hated these kinds of house parties. Now that he was alone with a table full of drugs and a lunchbox full of money, he was starting to realize how dangerous that was.

That’s when he felt a dip in the seat next to him.

Chrissy Cunningham leaned back into the couch with a heavy sigh, crushing her feather wings behind her. Her gold garland halo sat crooked atop her head.

Eddie’s stomach dropped.

“Hey,” she said breathlessly, “Mind if I sit here? My feet are killing me.” She stretched her legs out, smooth and polished. The rhinestones on her stilettos caught the light as she kicked them off.

“Sure,” he said hesitantly, glancing around again. “You don’t think your boyfriend would mind?” He couldn’t hide the suspicion in his voice. 

Chrissy rolled her eyes and propped her plush cheek against her hand, her elbow resting on the back of the white leather couch. “He’s outside doing keg stands, I don’t think he even noticed I left.”

Eddie sat back a little in his seat, unconvinced. “I uh, brought a friend too but it seems like he ditched me.”

“Oh no,” she mumbled, scooting closer. “I can keep you company.”

He froze, noticing how dangerously close her red drink was to her white dress. The way her hand jerked as she struggled to keep it balanced. “You uh…you ok?”

“Yeah ‘m good, ‘m good,” she muttered, “Thanks for asking.”

Drunken hollering filled the silence between them as Eddie racked his brain over what to say next. The packed bodies in the dim living room swayed to Rockwell’s one hit wonder.

I always feel like

Somebody’s watching me

“Nice costume.” It was the best he could do.

“What are you dressed as?” she teased, playing with one of the pins on his vest. 

Eddie swallowed, glancing down at the pearl white nail polish on her delicate fingers as she twisted the pin. “Just your friendly neighborhood drug dealer.” 

Chrissy batted her eyes at him. “Mm yeah, you are friendly,” she breathed, scooting even closer. She tucked her legs underneath her and rested her head against her arm on the back of the couch. 

He could feel the heat from her body. Smell the sugary drink on her breath as it ghosted over his face. He was close enough to notice the patches on her lips where the red had rubbed off onto the cup. Close enough to see how the redness in her eyes intensified the green irises under her hooded lids.

She was sitting so close that he failed to notice how many greasers were crowding around the table. In fact he didn’t until one of them said something.

“Hey,” Jason barked. He reached over the table to snatch one of the joints, his smile dripping with acid as he waved it in front of Eddie’s face. “How much to leave my fucking girlfriend alone?” 

Eddie felt his ghost leave his body.

“Jason—“ Chrissy balked.

“Get up.”

“I was just looking for a place to sit, these heels are—“

“I said get up,” Jason spat. 

Chrissy stumbled off the couch, pulling down the white, skin tight dress that had ridden up her thighs. She almost tripped over her shoes.

“Why do I keep catching you and my girlfriend together? Hm?” Jason rolled the joint around in his fingers. A few gelled strands of his slicked back hair had come as unhinged as he was.

Eddie rolled his eyes to mask his panic. “Calm down. She’s been sitting here for like two minutes. Jesus.”

“Yeah, yeah. You know,” he said, looking around, “There just aren’t any other seats in this whole goddamn house are there?” He laughed dryly. “Not a single one!”

Eddie’s eyes flashed to Chrissy. Would she say something? Did Jason know she invited him? Was it a secret?  

It was the panic in her eyes that told him. “Apparently not,” he said curtly. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have business to attend to.” He gestured to the joint in Jason’s hands. “That’ll be five dollars.”

“Oh I’m not finished with you, freak.”

“Jason—“

“Why don’t you go find a seat somewhere else, babe.” His words were a gentle venom.

“I’m fine,” Chrissy choked out.

“You know I’d really hate for those pretty feet of yours to get a blister,” he threatened. “Why don’t you go find Tina and have her get a chair for you, hm?”

Chrissy looked hesitant, eyes meeting Eddies for a split second before darting back over to Jason. Met with only daggers, she picked her heels up off the carpet and stormed off.

“Now then,” Jason said as he took her seat on the couch. The jocks in jackets crowded closer, closing off the table from the rest of the pulsing room. “Why don’t you tell me,” he started, grabbing Eddie’s lighter off the table to ignite the the joint in his fingers. “What makes you think you can talk to my girlfriend?”

Eddie seethed, his chest pounding, and not from the kick drum anymore. Where is the fuck is Gareth? 

“What makes you think you’re above paying for shit like everyone else?” He snapped back. “Your daddy teach you that?”

An audible ripple of shock emanated from the jocks in jackets.

“Wow look at that boys, he’s as funny as he is brilliant,” Jason retorted. “Let me ask you something else, freak.” He leaned in close enough for Eddie to smell the beer on his breath. “What the hell were you doing with our English teacher after school the other day?”

Eddie’s stomach dropped. “I—“ he steeled his face for the lie, “Jesus I just saw her in the hallway, man. We were both leaving, why the fuck does it matter?”

“See my buddy Donnie over here has a few questions for you too.” 

Eddie looked up. That’s when he recognized him. The athlete. The cigarette. 

“You a little hall monitor now, Munson? Huh?” Donnie uttered, earning jeers from the others.

“See I have a theory” Jason leaned even closer, blowing smoke in Eddie’s face. “That you’re turning into a teacher’s pet.” 

“Get the fuck out of my face,” Eddie spat. “You can keep the joint.”

“Ooh see that boys?” Jason laughed. “So defensive. You know what I think? I think the freak has a big fat crush.”

The crowd erupted, practically tripping over themselves now.

All Eddie could offer was dry laugh, shaking his head. His voice caught in his throat, face hot. Gripping the seat of the couch was all he could do to stop his hands from shaking. Where the fuck is Gareth?

“See look, he’s not denying it!” Jason announced to his cronies. The response was uproarious laughter. “You’re a real fuckin’ perv aren’t you?”

Eddie seethed. “You’re an entitled cocksucker in the way of my customers.” 

Then there was the commentary from the peanut gallery. Even over the music he could hear it.

“He can’t even get girls his own age,” Patrick muttered.

“Yeah he’s so old he’s going after the teachers now,” wheezed Donnie.  

Eddie felt the blood drain from his face. Felt a deep shame bubble up from the pit of his stomach. 

“You know what, I’m out. You can tell Tina who’s fault it was.” Eddie flipped open his black metal lunchbox with one hand and grabbed a handful of joints with the other, tossing them in unceremoniously.

“Woah woah who said we were finished?” Jason said through a crazed laugh. “You’re here to make deals right? Well I came here to make a deal too.”

Eddie offered him nothing more than a glance, packing away his grinder, his papers, his filters.

“Here’s the deal,” he said leaning in closer. “You stay the fuck away from my girlfriend, and I won’t make your life even more of a pathetic nightmare.” 

Eddie bit his lip. Better get her a collar then so she knows who she belongs to. 

It killed him not to say it. Physically hurt him not to. He wanted to spit it in his face but the lunchbox in front of him full of drugs and money kept his mouth buttoned. They could steal it all if they wanted. They could steal it all right now and get away with it too.

Jason grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, forcing Eddie to face him. “Do we have a deal, freak? I know you’re good at deals.”

“Deal,” Eddie spat,“Now get your fucking hands off me,” he said with a shove.

Jason sat back in his seat, smoothing his hand through his hair. “See? That wasn’t so hard was it?” 

______

Eddie stormed through the house. He surged through the kitchen, the dining room, the basement. He pushed through the sweaty bodies packing the stairwell and banged on all the bedroom doors, only to open them to half naked couples yelling at him from the darkness. He had been at this for twenty minutes now and still no sign of Gareth.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to just leave him. He was about to.

But then he thought about you. He thought about your brother. About how wasted everyone at this party was and how Gareth would find his way home. Eddie had sobered up plenty.

He thought about the looks on all their faces when they mentioned you. A familiar shame twisted in his gut. He knew the serpent well. Felt its sting since he could remember. The sting that came from bringing an ugly self-made peanut butter sandwich to middle school and unwrapping it in front of kids who’s moms packed notes.

Today the sting came from clean cut jocks at a normal party dressed in normal costumes looking down at him and his table full of drugs and saying that his heart was ugly too. That the flutters it felt when the kindness in your eyes soothed him like a balm were monstrous and disgusting. 

When he finally saw the glow of Gareth’s face by the fire pit he couldn’t tell if he was more relieved or enraged by the sight of him. Beer in hand, yucking it up with some chick dressed as Velma from Scooby Doo.

Eddie marched over to them, fuming. “We’re leaving. Now,” he barked.

“Dude what the fuck?”

“Thanks for leaving me back there for the past hour.” 

“Well I wasn’t gonna sit there all night, that was kind of the deal.”

“Oh yeah? Well you could have at least told me. At least come back and let me take a piss for fuck’s sake. You know I can’t exactly leave drugs and money unattended.”

Gareth sighed, glancing over at Velma with a wince. “Sorry man, I kind of got sidetracked. Cindy this is,” he gestured in annoyance, “Eddie by the way.”

Eddie, tight lipped, waved his hand unceremoniously.

“Come on, just sit and hang out with us.”

“I don’t wanna hang out, I just wanna go,” Eddie said, looking around anxiously.

Gareth looked him over, eyebrows knitting. “Did something… happen, man?”

Eddie glanced at Cindy, at the wary concern painting her face. He shifted his eyes toward the other people packed around the fire, laughing and drinking. “I’ll tell you in the car.”

Gareth met him with a wide-eyed mixture of disappointment and worry. “Come on, man. Give me like half an hour?”

In the waning of his rage, Eddie could feel the exhaustion setting in. Feel how thirsty he still was, how his ears were ringing from the noise, how his chest still rattled from the fear. His eyes turned to pleading. “Please.”

Gareth sighed, defeated. “Fine.”

______

A/N: Fun fact, I use a real calendar from 1985/86 to outline the story and I checked out of curiosity what day the Halloween party her brother attended would have been and it actually was Saturday, Oct 26th 1968. 1985 and 1968 use the exact same calendar. I wasn’t even planning on making it the exact anniversary but it just worked out that way. 

Another fun fact, Eddie dealing at Tina’s Halloween party as a plot point and the fact that Jason and the boys were dressed like greasers was inspired by one of my absolute favorite fics Oh, Baby by @inknopewetrust. Seriously, go read it. One of the best.

Thank you so much everyone, you know what to do — If you loved it, share it and let me know!

I really do try my best to respond to all your comments. 💋

Taglist: @mermaidsandcats29 @toxicjayhoo @ooo-protean-ooo @jadequeen88 @wroteclassicaly @kissmyacdc @mantorokk-writes @loveshotzz @newlips @chainsawmunson @trashmouth-richie @bebe0701 @latenighttalkingwithgrapejuice @bibieddiesgf @idkidknemore @alizztor @godcreatoreli @shotgunhallelujah @ethereal27cereal @munsonsgirl71 @luna-munson83 @eddiemunsonsbitcch @tlclick73 @emxxblog @siriusmuggle @sidthedollface2 @dollalicia @lma1986 @catherinnn @eddiemunson4life420 @readsalot73 @ruby-dragon @3rriberri @princess-eddie @nightless @eddieswifu @thew0rldsastage @quinnsfineline @jo-harrington @chaoticgood-munson @edsforehead @hanahkatexo @eddiemunsonsbedroom @beep-beep-sherlock @emily-roberts @averagemisfit03 @vintagehellfire @haylaansmi @carolmunson

[luveline]

can i request reader who has trouble sleeping accidentally falling asleep on james or sirius in front of everyone? <3

yes u can tysm!!! I went with sirius!! ♡ fem!reader

You've had trouble sleeping since forever, but this seems to be new information for Sirius. 

"Why'd you look so sad?" he asks softly. 

You squint up at him, puzzled. He's pulled his hair back into a low ponytail that suits him more than you can describe – something about the unfettered view of his lovely cheekbones, maybe. He's a pair of small golden hoops in his lobes that glow against his tanned skin. They catch your eyes, the shine soft and distractingly pretty. 

"Hey, are you with me?" he asks. 

His dark eyes crease even deeper with concern. 

"No, I'm okay. Sorry, I swear I'm not looking through you. Just tired." 

"Yeah? Didn't sleep well?"

A fallen hair curls at the neck of his jacket. You pluck it up and roll it off of your thumb. Your eyes burn when you look at the ground, the uni hall floors always blindingly clean. "Yeah." 

He tilts his head. You have the prickly feeling of being assessed then and have to resist the urge to squirm on the spot. 

"You didn't wanna take the day off?" he asks. You might make a joke about his trying to get you to go home; a 'tell me how you really feel' begs to be said, but you won't mess around, not when he looks so sweetly concerned. 

"I'm okay." 

Sirius is a good friend. Unexpected in that you'd never imagined he'd speak to you, or that the friendship might last so long, and decidedly good. He pulls a familiar canvas rucksack off of his shoulder and digs around in the back. He offers you a little bottle of caffeine chewables and a cereal bar, the sticky, tough kind with more sugar than nutrition. You accept the cereal but ignore the pills. 

"Caffeine puts me in a cycle," you tell him. 

"Do you have a drink?" he asks.

You've hardly said not yet when he passes you his metal flask. 

"Meet me after lecture and we'll go up to the Slug for dinner?" he asks, knowing you'll say yes. 

You nod predictably. "Who's coming?" 

"Everyone. Maybe." 

You meet him after your lecture and head up to the Slug, a big, rundown pub with high ceilings and paisley carpets rumoured to have once been burgundy. He guides you with an amicable hand pressed lightly to the top of your shoulder, down a handful of steps into the 'pit', a mess of booths and lacquered wooden chairs. The smell of cider is sickly sweet, masked only by the stuffiness of decade old smoke. 

Your friends sit in the nook. 

"Hi," you say, barely stopping to glance at Remus as you climb over a chair to sit beside him. 

Sirius follows, to Marlene's abject delight. She quickly has him helping her with coursework. A mess of loose leaf grid paper covers her entire table. The girls sitting with her – Lily, Dorcas, and Mary – have started to rest their drinks on her precious workings, to her chagrin. 

"Respect the graphs!" she says. 

You huff and deflate in your chair. 

"You've Marl's coursework stuck to your foot," Remus says, pushing his bowl of chips toward you. 

You steal one gratefully and lift your foot. "Oh." 

Sirius nabs it for you. He takes a second to look you over, gaze clearly snagging on your puffy eyes before it recentres.

"Don't mind if I have this, do you?" he asks. 

You moan. You hope it says what you want it to. Yes, you can, but it is a big inconvenience to me and you definitely owe me. 

Sirius wrinkles his nose at you with a laugh and turns back to Marlene.

Remus has the brilliant talent of knowing when someone needs peace and quiet. He leaves you to your own devices and turns back to his book. You watch him turn the pages for a while, your eyes growing heavier and heavier, as does your body. You feel your limbs as if they're piped with lead.

Sirius finally turns to you again. You're excited for his attention and try to liven up unsuccessfully, face turned into the rough material of the booths seat. He frowns at your and slides his arm between your cheek and the seat, hand clapping your back amicably.

"You alright?" he asks.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Did you..." You yawn. "What are you gonna have?"

"I was thinking about fish and chips, honestly. What do you want? I'll get yours at the same time."

"Um, maybe," — his eyes are sweet and soft and so, so dark, staring down at you with endless patience — "maybe I'll have fish and chips as well."

"Copycat." He grins.

"Sirius, what the fuck is this?" Marlene demands, sounding petrified.

He turns from you quick. His arm around your shoulder pulls you with him, your face falling into the space just below his collar. Your nose presses to his jacket and you catch his scent there, a warm musk. Vanilla for certain, a sweetness hiding just underneath. Your hands fall useless in your lap as you let yourself sink into him, stealing all his warmth and comfort.

His hand moves of its own accord up and down your back. It's a nice feeling. It's a really nice feeling. Your eyes slip closed, and you tell yourself you'll open them when he turns to speak with you again.

Sirius finishes his explanation though whether he truly grasps the material is beyond him. He pats your shoulder, the start of an apology on his lips when he notices your stillness.

Your face tucked and slipping down the line of his chest, you've fallen asleep. He pulls the zipper of his jacket away from your cheek as carefully as he can and feels something near his heart surge. Relief, he thinks, to see you sleeping when you'd looked heartbreakingly exhausted before. And fondness, because you're pretty when you're snoozing, lips a little smushed together in a pout and face smooth of any wrinkles.

Sirius meets eyes with Remus and smiles sheepishly at the smugness on his friends face.

"Poor girl," he says under his breath, stroking down your arm with the side of his hand.

He settles in, content to be a human pillow.

[ballsgrabber69]

transman!chuuya x male!dazai

TW: PAST ABUSE, RAPE, SEXUAL ASSAULT!

Loud, whorish moans filled the silent house. And maybe a few screams. Dazai was stroking Chuuya's oh so sensitive clit, making the shorter man cry out. 

"F-fuck! Osamu, please!!" The ginger almost wailed. He's been edged for an hour or two, and he just did the No Nut November challenge. He's never had sex with Dazai. He was always scared.

He thought that the brunette would really make fun of him, shaming him, degrading him, but when he had finally brought up the courage to tell the taller man, he expected him to leave him again. The first time he left was for a good reason; he knew Dazai had left to get away from an abusive environment, and he thought that not being a real man would be another good reason.

No body ever made him feel human. Just because he wanted to be a man?

Somehow, his dickhead ex had found out, who was stronger than him, came to his house and hurt him, beat him, but most of all, raped him. Now Chuuya isn't a little omega, no. He fought back. He hurt his ex. Bad. He's in the hospital right now, because of Chuuya Nakahara himself. He was scared to have sex with Dazai, but now is his first time. Now he likes it. Now he's taking it slow. He's easing him with touches, but now he's also teasing him.

The brunette gently shushed the sobbing man, stroking his clit just a bit faster. Chuuya's eyes rolled back as he felt this intense feeling creep into his stomach. His hips were shaking as well as his thighs.

"Samu, I think.. If you keep touching me like this, I think I'm g-gonna finally cum!-"

As soon as the ginger said that, with the little cock on his clit leaking, his hole pulsating, thighs shaking, head thrown back, the brunette cruelly pulls away, making the usually calm Mafioso wail.

"Not yet, you poor thing~" Dazai whispered in a hushed voice.

The poor executive let out a loud sob when he felt the detective cup his small breast.

Dazai once again hushed the sobbing man, thin, but full lips gently grazing a soft, puffy, pink nipple, coaxing it to harden. Then, his tongue came to play. He was touching, teasing only one of Chuuya's breasts, making the smaller man whimper.

Chuuya groaned when he felt a warm, wet tongue circle around his hardened bud, and began to gently suckle on it. Dazai was proud of himself; he knew that only him can bring out the ginger's submissive side. Everyone's seem his strong, dominant side, but nobody's ever seen this side, and they both would rather keep it that way. The redhead's clit began to throb again, meaning he was close. A warm knot was rising in his stomach, and the man trembled.

Dazai noticed, and a smirk came in his face.

"Oh? Is chibi about to come?~" The brunette asked, licking the other man's nipple slightly faster.

"Yes! I'm so close! I!-" Chuuya got cut off by a obscene moan when he felt the warm, warm, almost hot knot rising in the pit of his stomach. His cunt was twitching, leaking so desperately. He didn't know if it needed to be touched it if he just needed to cum. Maybe it was both.

Dazai shushed the smaller man, sucking on his nipple harshly to get all the spit up before cruelly pulling away again, an annoyed whine coming from the bottom.

"Fucking mackerel." He muttered. "I hate you."

"I love you too, slug!" The taller man spread Chuuya's legs open again, cupping his face and pressing a deep, gentle kiss to the smaller's lips.

Dazai's hand moves down Chuuya's too skinny stomach, feeling his abs, and the spiky hairs of his recently shaved cunt. Toffee eyes look into ocean, asking is he was really ready. Blue nods at toffee and gives a ready look. The brunette nods, and a strangled shriek leaves the ginger's mouth when shockingly soft fingers leave a toned stomach, find a desperate, swollen clit, and finally begins to stroke it.

"Fuck! Please, please, please!!-" Ocean eyes are filled with tears as they look at toffee, those eyes smirking back down. He wants this. He needs this. Dazai's hands feel absolutely nothing like Those hands that hurt him in the past. When he was sixteen, eighteen, and just barely a year ago.

Those breasts are bouncing slightly as those fingers continue to stroke a cute, engorged clit. Dazai's looking up at his husband, his brawn, his partner in crime, his lover...Ooh, he's in love. He loves the way usually cold, icy blue eyes roll back from every brush upon the tight pink pussy. 

Chuuya's eyes are rolled back, his thighs shaking. Who would've known that Dazai Osamu, the man he hated, would become the man he loved. He's moaning and whimpering loudly, drooling in some places. Tears are leaving tracks on his face as long, slender fingers stroke and brush over his leaking cunt. He can't see Dazai's gentle smirk as he gradually picks up the pace. He feels a lick on his ear, as well as a gentle whisper, telling him that it's gonna be okay, that those hands aren't haunting him. It's gonna be his true, first orgasm. One of pleasure and not pain.

"It's okay, Chuuya.. I've got you." That same gentle whisper. Dazai Osamu.

The knot was coming faster and faster, and Dazai knew. Chuuya was trembling, shaking. Not because he was scared, although that's one of the reasons, but because it felt so intense.

"S-Samu..! I'm scared.." Chuuya whimpers, his breathing growing a little bit frantic.

"Shh, slug. I got you." Fuck, that gentle whisper that always made the ginger weak. "I'm not him. Alright? Now, I want you to let go."

Chuuya's eyes slowly roll back as he nods. 

"I'm gonna count down, and you're gonna release, alright? It's not gonna hurt. I have you." 

Another nod.

"Ten."

Dazai's fingers slow just a tad so he can have Chuuya completely ruined when he's done.

"Nine."

Soft fingers brush over an extremely sensitive nipple.

"Eight."

Chuuya's eyes roll back completely.

"Seven."

The ginger's breathing is getting heavier as he gets closer and closer to his first painless orgasm.

"Six."

Dazai's soft fingers fondle with his tongue piercing as soon as his soft, wet tongue slides out.

"Five."

Slender fingers stroke his clit faster again.

"Four."

Soft, somewhat thick thighs begin to tremble, and when they threaten to clamp shut, a bandaged hand moves away from the tongue piercing, and rubs the smaller's stomach, keeping his legs spread.

"Three."

Gloved hands are gripping the sheets.

"Two."

Dazai's fingers are moving even faster, and the knot in Chuuya's stomach is threatening to snap.

"One."

Soft lips kiss horrifyingly, traumatizing scarred and bruised skin. He never knew Chuuya been through this, or even had a soft side.

"Go ahead, Chuuya. You can cum now."

It was as if the ginger's body was waiting for those words. With a scream, Chuuya's spilling his liquid lust all over the place. The orgasm rocked him to the core. His eyes immediately rolled back, and his back arched until it cracked as if he was stretching. Maybe he needed that. He's squirting all over Dazai's hand, making it sheen and shiny with his juices. Dazai whispered assurances in the smaller's ear, slowly working him through his orgasm, still stroking his squirting clit as fast as he was. It was so fucking intense and long, but it wasn't painful. It didn't hurt. It felt...so good. Chuuya was sobbing, screaming, but it was all in pleasure. A good pleasure. The orgasm was blinding Chuuya and his senses. He's forgetting how to even breathe because it's so intense.

From the sight, Dazai felt as if he was gonna cum in his boxers, because his cock was twitching.

When he saw the small man relax, and his sobs and screams subside and die down to whimpers and moans, his fingers gradually slowing to work him through the last bit of the orgasm and pulling away.

But the brunette doesn't stop.

He's still going, now brushing his tongue against the overstimulated clit. Chuuya's sobbing as he quickly and undeniably approaches another extreme orgasm. His eyes are crossing, and God, he explodes again.

He cums in Dazai's mouth, sobbing as he grips his hair. His back is arched, screaming out his name as he wails from the overstimulation. His face and chest is red. His chest heaved as he squirts uncontrollably. His eyes are rolled back and he stopped breathing.He sobs as he throws his head back, shaking like crazy. He sobs in overstimulation. His eyes squeeze shut and he sobs louder, squirting everywhere and making a huge mess. It's so...beautiful. Seeing the usually cold, brutal Mafioso open up and lose himself to Dazai.

When he's done and the brunette feels the grip loosen, he pulls away, licking his lips and kissing the ginger's. He's a pile of whimpering, sobbing and wheezing. He's recovering from his second orgasm now.

Chuuya was a panting mess now, absolutely nothing like how he usually is. Ocean hated it but toffee loved it.

"One more, Chuu?"

"F-Fine! Just o..one more!"

And so Dazai took the throbbing, quivering, cunt back into his mouth. Chuuya sobs as he feels the taller man flick his tongue back and forth, up and down over Chuuya's hypersensitive pussy. It didn't take long for Chuuya to cum again.

"Awhh, how cute.. Chuuya's gonna cum again, is he?~" Dazai smirks, his tongue flicking faster and faster until his lips press on the clit and gives it a gentle kiss before licking it again, holding Chuuya's shaking legs open as he soothingly rubs his horribly, horrendously scarred thigh.

"Y-yeah!" Chuuya moans

"Then do it. Cum for me, sweet thing.."

Chuuya lost himself as soon as toffee eyed said that, and it hit the blue eyed man so damn hard.

The feeling took over him as he continued to moan and sob, his hand gripping the bed and the other gripping his own hair, his toes curling as his face scrunched into a grimace. Tears streamed down his red face. Chuuya was loud from the insane orgasm, squirting everything out.

He threw his head back in pleasure. The pressure was everywhere. This was full body. He couldn't move, just letting the feeling of his third orgasm take over him as he sobbed, whimpered, moaned and whined. His chest heaved and his small, adorable breasts bounced slightly as he kept touching, teasing and eating him. His eyes crossed as his tongue lolled out, his eyebrows furrowing as his sapphire eyes became unfocused before he closed them again. It wouldn't stop..

He began to swear and whimper under his breath, his small body shaking and writhing as Dazai sucked his sensitive cunt. He let out more sobs, almost turning to screams of pleasure. He lost control. Heaving, gasping sobs left him as the overstimulation blurred and overrode his senses.

When Chuuya was done, Dazai's tongue flicked slower and slower, but he still wanted to see the executive lose himself again, so he moved quicker again. A shattered moan escaped the ginger's lips.

He drove his tongue inside of the smaller man, strumming out another loud moan that was music to his ears. He was quite an instrument to play, so finely tuned, and if he touched him right, he made the most glorious sounds; sexy, raw, intense, absolutely delicious noises of pleasure as Dazai plundered Chuuya with his tongue. He grabbed wavy brown hair, yanked and pulled him closer to his throbbing cunt. He thrust one finger inside him, switching the angle it and hitting her in the spot that turned her moans into one long, loud scteam of pure pleasure.

The orgasm sounded and looked extremely intense. When he was done, Dazai completely pulled away from the overstimulated sex.

Dazai shuddered against Chuuya, his legs quaking, and when he finally slowed to look up at the ginger, he saw his hair was a wild tumble, and her face was glowing.

"Are you alright, Chuuya?" A concerned Dazai asked.

"Mm.. Mhm.." An exhausted Chuuya groaned, his head tilting to the side in exhaustion. His chest was heaving as gasping sobs and hiccups wrack him gently.

"Oh, baby.. Did I hurt you?.." The brunette asks gently, taking the redhead into his arms and holding him.

Chuuya shook his head. "T-that was s..so fucking intense.. That felt so good.."

Dazai gives a content laugh. "That's good, baby.. Now why don't we clean up and sleep, hm?"

"Good idea.."

And so they did. They bathed together, Chuuya cooked a little something for them both because everybody and their mama knows that Dazai would be blew up the whole human population trying to cook. They had a little fun in their free time, cuddled and went to sleep together.

Though when they fell asleep, only one of them dreamt.

[noxioustoxin]

I'll Be Here, Always

Mentions: Implied Abuse (Warning), Suicide (Warning), fluff, tender love and care.

Small Authors Note: "I'm just looking to do some major self-care, but I do hope you all enjoy my short story." ^^

——————————

It had been about a month, almost two now, that Dazai even bothered to check his notifications. His phone lights up throughout the night with halfhearted check-ins. He didn't have to look to know who the messages were from, the soft chime told him exactly who it was. "Bastard, the hell are you ignoring me for?" "You better not be dead, or I swear shitty Dazai."

It was the same thing every few days or so that it started making his head spin. Normally Dazai would've written a snarky comeback, teasing the redhead about how much he seems to care. In reality, Dazai cared. But even his little dog couldn't pull him out of this one. Dazai could vividly recall the moment when things began to spiral, which wasn't uncommon for him. He was known to be suicidal and depressed, but this time, he took the liberty of writing a note. His fingers ached as he scribbled out his goodbye, which was only to one person, but he wouldn't dare let that letter be seen. Not by his slug. He wasn't that cruel though many would argue with that statement.

Even with the meticulous work he put in to hide his letter, he still somehow found himself in Mori's office. Dazai's letter was there open against the desk, and he could hear a scoff from his boss. It was obvious to him that Mori had already read the contents of the letter. "When will you give up on this futile endeavor? Aimlessly reaching for an outcome you can't achieve. You can't die until I say you can when I provide the means." His voice swirled around Dazai's mind like filthy venom, reminding Dazai with that choice of words that he was chained to him. Typically, Mori's words were nothing more than that. Words. But that unsettling feeling that stirred within his stomach made his limbs suddenly feel like lead. He felt bolted to the floor. But in his mind, the only thing that mattered was Chuuya. Not Mori, not being chained to him and the organization, not his suffering. Just Chuuya.

Flash forward to the present, Dazai sat uncomfortably atop his small mattress. His eyes were misty and puffy from the tears that refused to fall. The shipping container in which he called home carried an ominous chill, one that didn't feel right. "Mackerel… please talk to me."

His phone lit up the small area. He knew it was Chuuya, but what was he supposed to say? That he once again wanted to leave the world behind because of his pain? No. Not that again. So instead, Dazai curled up into a fettle position and sighed heavily into his knees. After what felt like hours, in reality, it was only about twenty minutes, a knock jolted Dazai away from his misery. He sighed and uttered a soft "go away," but that was quickly met with louder and more forceful knocking. The sound made his heart sink, and he knew he couldn't ignore it anymore, so reluctantly he scrambled off of his bed and made his way to the door. His hand hesitantly reached for the lock and slowly opened the door. "What?" His voice shook as he tried to upkeep his typical cold exterior until he was suddenly wrapped in a tight embrace. That familiar warmth quickly enveloped his body, and his body relaxed for the first time in those two months. Chuuya. Dazai opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn't find the words. The words weren't needed at the moment, but instead, Chuuya simply led him over to his bed and pushed him down against it. Those usually piercing blue eyes were softer and gentler as he cupped Dazai's cheek. "You don't have to go silent whenever you hit a low period," Chuuya began softly, "I can handle it. I want you to understand that I know you still struggle and suffer with those thoughts." He paused to press his forehead lightly against Dazai's, the gesture so tender that it caused butterflies to form in their stomachs. With that, Dazai's tears finally fell as he quickly tugged Chuuya onto the bed with him. His taller frame fits rather perfectly with Chuuya's smaller one. A soft chuckle could be heard from the redhead as he reached his hand up to play with those messy brown curls. "Come on, we aren't staying here. I've got canned crab at home, let's get you a nice bath and a hot meal." Dazai only cooed in response as he nuzzled his head into the crook of Chuuya's neck.

"Okay, Chibi… I love you." "I love you too Mackerel, now let's go."

Dazai knew that Chuuya did mean what he said, he meant that he was here for him even through his dark times. Maybe, just maybe, this was what his meaning in life was. No. Not maybe, Chuuya was his reason. And that was all he needed now. "I'll be here, always." And Dazai believed it. Completely.

------------------------------ Again, I truly hope you all enjoy this little, short story!

[babyhailey564]

This story contains a lot of sexual gay content and a bit crass at times. It’s been written for you gay diaper boys out there that crave and sexually get off on diaper humiliation of being forced into diapers or babyhood. I purposely tried to tag quite a few subjects in this story to appeal to a larger audience. Gay ,str8 , DL, AB

This story is about 23 year old jock who’s a AB/DL trying to deal with his emotions and strong desires to be force back into babyhood.

Like many he has little exposure to others in real time meetings and most of his fantasies he’s lived out on his own in his head.

That was all about to change ,way more then he ever imagined while chatting online one day, probably more then he bargained for .

Like most into our scene I spend a lot of time chatting on the Internet with other guys into diapers .

Then one day when I was 23 year old I started chatting with a guy who only lived 40 mins away in a small rural town.

He told me he was married that his wife and sister in law treated him like a baby . Of course I didn’t believe him and thought he had a wild imagination like so many on the internet. Though I liked chatting with him because the treatment he told me he received was what I craving.

He was kind of mysterious, he’d only pop up on my chat once in a blue moon, then just disappear while chatting .

This went on for months us chatting on and off telling each other our fantasies. At least mine where fantasies since I had very little exposure to the real diaper world . .

Then one Saturday morning when I was signed on , he popped up on my chat, telling his wife and sister in law where away for the weekend .

Asking me to come out and visit him . At that point I was so hungry to meet others into diapers, so jumped at the chance and said yes .

I was a bit surprise by his offer because in our last chat together had grown a bit tired by his wild stories and sudden disappearing acts and kind of made fun of him a little bit.

Though I was gay and he was so called straight didn’t really matter I just wanted to meet other diaper guys .

Well he sent me directions to his house in the country to my email .

I headed out to his place about 5 pm in the afternoon ,it took me like 45 mins to get there .

He lived in a old run down farm house in the middle of “no where” .

I got out of my jeep went and knocked on the door .

A good looking guy in his late 20’s answered the door in nothing but a T-shirt and diaper, covered in puffy baby pants

Of course my dick went boing !

Though to say the least I was very….. nervous .

We sat around talking, having some beers, but I couldn’t take my eyes of his diapers wishing it was me.

Jeff seemed like a nice guy, but a bit shy of a full load ,kind of that country simple mentality thing going on .

When he talked I kept hearing banjo’s playing in my head.LOL!

I was slugging down beers trying to dull my nerviness,after I had about 3 beers he suggested we get me diapered.

He took me to a bedroom ,the first thing I spotted was a playpen in the middle of the room and also a huge baby crib.

There was a little single bed in the corner and shelves staked with diapers and plastic pants .

Wow I thought to myself, so he wasn’t lying about his life of being treated like a baby. At that point it occurred to me this was a….. bit weird .

His wife and sister in law really treated him like a baby which made me feel a… bit…. leery .

I probably should have said right then,I got to leave , but my little head down below wanted to be diapered.

Jeff insisted on diapering me ,I’d said never been diapered by anyone before .

So of course I jumped at the chance.

I stripped out of my jeans and boxers and laid on the bed .

He grab 2 very thick cloth diapers ,I had mentioned I had never tried cloth before .He then slipped them under me and powdered the diapers up good.

I laid there with the biggest stiffy in the world ,Jeff smiled and joked saying it looks like you really like this dude!

Then he got pins and pinned my diapers up nice and snug ,he grabbed some clear baby pants and slid them up my legs.

I thought I had gone to heaven and was going to explode right there on the spot in my diapers.

We went back to the living room and had a few more beers , I keep pounding the beers and began feeling no pain , finally relaxing and getting into the whole thing .

It was soooo………. cool just us 2 hanging out in our diapers chatting having some beers.

Then Jeff suggested let’s go play in baby nursery ,we grabbed our beers and headed up to the room .

He talked me into getting in the playpen ,I had never been in a playpen before .

Of course the beer made all my inhibitions disappear.

As I step in and sat down playpen my body actually began to shake a bit ,it felt so “incredible” like this is where I “belonged”.

I had the most raging hard on ,tenting my diapers .

He then grabbed a baby bottle and took my beer and filled the bottle and gave it to me.

Another new experience ,I put it in my lips and began to suck on it ,I thought I died and went to heaven.

He kind of played Daddy and kept teasing me,saying is baby going wet his diapers .

Well after while with all the beers I let go and soaked my diapers ,Jeff was laughing he could see my plastic pants get a big wet yellow spot inside spreading against the front of my diapers . I was a bit drunk but was in baby heaven . .

Then Jeff said he’d be right back ,he needed to get a cold one .Very buzzed on beer I sat there sucking on the baby bottle regressing away in the playpen. Well he returned a few minutes later and walked through the door with a big grin on his face .

Then…… 2 women followed behind him . My jaw dropped to the ground ,there I was sitting in a playpen ,in nothing but soaking wet diapers on,

with a baby bottle in my mouth . I must have looked like a deer in car headlights when I saw them and froze .

One of the women said well ,well, well looks like we have another baby here .

I tried to stand up in the playpen and one of the women said sit down in your playpen baby boy !.

Jeff just standing there with a big smirking grin of amusement on his face .Like SUCKER!

At that point I knew I had been tricked by them all .

Then even worse I had to pee again bad and had no choice but to let go in my diapers in front of them.

They could tell I was wetting and laughed at me saying dam the boy is soaking his diadee’s again.

Then the women talk between themselves about me .

One said to the other, looks like we got a sissy baby on our hands,Jeff adding he likes baby boys too……

The other replied with agreement and said I think we need to teach the boy a good lesson he’ll never forget.

I was mortified at that point and felt trapped and humiliated .

What could I say in my defense? As I sat in the playpen in diapers so soaked from pee they were pudding in the bottom of the plastic pants with a baby bottle in my hands .

Then one of the women walked over and picked up my jeans , felt for my keys and wallet ,she grabs the rest of my clothes too.

She said you re not going anywhere soon baby, so you won’t be needing these and left the room with my clothes.

The other women said you do exactly as your told and be a good baby ,we may let you go tomorrow .

Adding we can’t have drunk baby’s driving on the road at night. with a “Chuckle ”

She looked at me and asked if I was going to be a good baby ,I had little alternative but to say yes .

She replied call me Mommy for now on baby and my sister is Auntie.

I said yes Mommy ,in a broken cracked nervous voice.

Then other one came back in the room and said lets get him into the bathroom and cleaned up.

They took me by the hand and walked me to the bathroom as one of them unpinned my soaking diapers and let them drop on the floor inside my plastic pants. They told me to keep sucking on my baby bottle of beer, if it was not for being so buzzed on beer I probably would have been mortified and tried to fight back.

The tell all was my dick standing out str8 as a flag pole,it was admitting one side of me enjoyed my treatment .

Mommy chuckled in disgust looking at my cock and said some big baby going to loveeee……… this.

Mommy said that hair down below on you baby , it got to go……Baby’s don’t have hair.

I tried to say no pleaseeee ,she slapped me hard on my damp bare bottom saying you’ll do as your told,just suck on that bottle baby!

They ordered me in the bath tube and Mommy grabbed electric trimmers out of the cabinet.

Mommy turn them on and began to shave my hair off down below ,I just stood there feeling totally helpless sucking on my beer to relieve my nervousness ,being stripped of my manhood by total strangers

Auntie commented he’s looking more like a baby by the minute.

She got done trimming all the long hair off down below ,then grabbed a bottle of hair remover .

She put on rubber gloves and began to smear it all over my crotch and legs .

After about 5 mins of a burning feeling on my skin , she turned on the shower and I looked down as my hairy manhood washed away down the drain .

Jeff the whole time is watching from the door with the biggest freaking grin on his face ,like a little kid in a candy store .

I stood there as she dried me off like a baby and then she said, time to get you back in your DIA…..PERS……….baby boy

She lead me back to the baby room as they called it and pushed me down on the changing bed.

The 2 women talked back and forth between themselves ,one telling the other to go get a suppository ,we need to make him feel like a “real” baby.

I kind of made a moaning noise .

Mommy grinned and said don’t worry I have a feeling your going “love” dropping a big messy load in your diapers baby .

Jeff filled us in on all your little baby secrets you told him in online chat.

He also told us you made fun of him too, adding you didn’t believe him ,well after tonight you will be a believer.

You’ll feel like a real tough man filling the butt of your diapers like a baby in front of all of us, chuckling a loud !

Mommy grabbed the baby lotion and smeared it thickly on my groin and butt , the other women returned with the suppository .

Mommy pushed my legs up and lubed my butt and popped the suppository in my hole.

Then grabbed a thick disposable diaper and several soaker pads slipped them under me and taped up the diapers nice and tight.

She grab a pink pair of plastic pants and said pink for SISSY’S and slipped them up my legs .

I had to admit to myself in my drunken state my hair being gone made the diapers feel so soft and wonderful.

There I laid in thick diapers ,thinking I was going to mess my diapers eventually in front of 2 strange women.

They pulled me off the changing bed and put me back in the playpen with Jeff.

Mommy told Auntie to get a baby bottle full of beer and to put something extra in it to make the baby keeps wetting his diapers .

She returned with the baby bottle and shoved it in my mouth,and said suck every last drop down .

They both sat down on the bed and teased me relentlessly as I sucked away on the baby bottle.

Jeff kept ranting the baby is going to mess in his diapers ,laughing at me.

I got almost halfway through the bottle and I felt a rumble in my stomach .

It starting getting worse ,I began to figit moving my butt back and forth.

Jeff squealed  to Mommy he’s going to mess in his diapers sounding like a child  telling on a sibling.

I felt like a 2 year old at that point ,trying to hold it back ,Mommy saying is baby going to make a mes….sy in his diapers.

They could tell from the look of agony on my face and I had stopped sucking on the bottle .

Then with no control my ass started exploding over and over in the seat of my diapers.

I made a moaning whimpering noise each time my butt muscles pumped out another spurt of the warm goo.

With each spurt in the seat of my diapers I felt like my body was shrinking smaller and smaller.

Mommy ordered me to stand up and she walked over to the playpen ,she rubbed and patted hard my butt and said wow baby made a BIG….. messy in his diapers,didn’t you ?

I felt myself sinking even further into Babyhood replying yes in shame.

She said well you can sit in them for awhile and think about what a big baby you are .

Eventually I had to pee and added to the mess soaking my diapers .

Then Mommy said it’s time for your special bottle sissy baby. She looked at Jeff and said show him .

Jeff reached into his diapers and pulled out his dick and said here’s your bottle baby . Mommy pushed me towards Jeffs dick and said suck on the bottle baby.

I hesitated but had no choice and was in not position to argue .I slowly put my lips on Jeff’s dick.

Mommy pushed the back of my head to take in every last inch , his crotch stunk of urine and could feel his wet diaper hitting my chin.

The women teased me and kept saying what a big diaper sissy I was and said I bet you love Jeff’s baby bottle.

There I was in big messy diapers sucking on another diaper boys dick,with 2 strange women as a audience

I kept sucking and Mommy kept pushing my head faster and faster .

Jeff finally said Mommy I’m going to cum…. ,she said give the sissy baby your milk and she pushed my head hard into his crotch ,so his dick jammed down throat.

I felt his warm pulsating load shoot down my throat.

The women just laughed and force me to tell them I loved sucking Jeff’s bottle.

I said with tears in my eye I loved Jeff’s Baby Bottle .

Mommy said wait until we let baby Jeff plug your diapered rosebud with his baby bottle.

Eventually they took me into the bathroom got me all cleaned up then put thick clean diapers and plastic pants on me .

Then put me in a big baby crib and locked my wrists to leather cuffs in the crib .

One of them came in the room with a baby bottle full of milk ,she walked over to me and had a pill in her fingers.

She pryed my mouth open and said take this , it will help you sleep, then shoved it in my mouth and jammed the baby bottle in my lips

She forced me to drink the milk,while talking down to me like I was a little baby.

Mommy looked over and said to her sister don’t you think we should give him another suppository .

Her sister said with excitement defiantly ! He’ll wake up feeling like a’’ REAL’’ baby in the morning with messy wet diapers.

They pulled down the side of the crib pushed me on my side and one yanked down the back of my diapers and the other slipped the big pill in my butt.

They pulled my diapers and plastic pants up fast and made me finished the milk .

I was getting real drowsy at that point and could barely keep my eyes open between the effects of all the beer and the sleeping pill.

The last thing I remember was the light being turned off and hearing sweet dreams baby .

I woke in the morning feeling groggy and very disoriented,with a hang over .

I finely focused my eyes , where I was and what was happening to me started to creep back into my mind.

Though a lot of blanks do to being drunk last night

I could feel my diapers were soaked and there was a warm mess in the back of my diapers .

I try to reach down and feel my diapers but my wrists were strapped to the crib bars at my sides.

There was a sense of panic in me like WTF!

I had no idea what came over me I began to cry l in silence to myself out of frastration.

I think because I felt like such a baby lying there helpless in a crib in messy,wet diapers,I had “no” recollection of wetting or messing during that night or exactly how I ended up bound in the crib.

Then I heard the door open, it was Mommy and Jeff .

Mommy walked over to me and could see the tears running down my face. Seeing their faces made more of what happened last night in my drunken state coming back to me .

Talking to me like a 2 year old she said is baby crying because he messed his diapers last night ,I motioned my head up and down to say yes.

She said it’s ok that’s what baby’s do at night ,adding “GET USE TO IT” .

Get use to it I thought in my puzzled hung over mind ?

Mommy released me from the leather handcuffs and put down the side of the crib and got me out .

I waddled as I walked from my heavily soaked and loaded diapers.

Mommy said your having trouble walking you better crawl like a baby and forced me down on all 4’s and stuck a pacifier in my mouth.

At that point I totally lost it , I was a bit disoriented ,half awake and hung over. Acting like a baby was the easy thing to do at that point ,to think of anything else made my head hurt

I let go of ever last ounce of adulthood left in my body and mind . What else could I do at that point but to let go ,crawling in loaded messy diapers on all 4’s with no choice.

Jeff kept repeating to Mommy he’s a “BIG” time baby . Mommy replied he sure is , he was very ‘easy’ to break down.

With a big strong muscular body like his, he could have easily over powered us and gotten away if he really wanted to, but look at him now crawling on all 4’s in his big messy baby diapers . Saying in a devious voice I think you found us a keeper this time Jeff .

Hearing that gave me a pit in my stomach ,thinking to myself found a keeper ?

Jeff said to Mommy he told me in chat online he wanted to be treated like a real baby ,giggling ! I thought Damm………. I did , I thought to myself I told him my ultimate fantasy was to be forced back into babyhood .

They made me crawl down to the kitchen and put me in a highchair and strapped me in tieing a sesame street baby bib on me.

Her sister walked in and said it smells like some baby did a big mess in his diapers last night,I kind of hung my head.

Mommy made me oatmeal ,I sat there being spoon fed like a baby why the others ate like adults ,making me eat every last drop.

Eventually they got me out of the high chair and took me to the bathroom and got me cleaned up.

I was so happy my messy diapers were getting very….. uncomfortable.

Then lead me back to the baby room and on the changing table for thick disposable diapers and plastic pants .

Mommy said to Jeff it’s time to have fun with the baby’s rosebud ,Jeff eyes lit up .

It did not compute what she said in my foggy disoriented hung over mind of confusion,thinking what’s a rosebud ?

They took me over to the crib ,got me up into it and forced me to lay on my stomach.

I heard snap ,snap on both arms and my legs before I could even realized what was happening

They used straps to spread eagle my body face down and shoved a big baby pacifier in my mouth that had straps come around my head lock it in place .

I was scared shitless at this point WTF is happening? .

They yanked down the back of my diapers to expose my hole .

Jeff stripped out of his sweat pants and let them drop to the floor to expose his shave crotch with a big stiffy.

Then it all computed my rosebud ,Holly shit I’m going to get fucked !

I panicked and tried yelling through my huge pacifier ,all of it came out as muffled.

I heard Mommy say calm down you going to really enjoy this sissy boy!

I was gay but never let anyone penetrate me before .

He then got up on top of me , lubed my butt hole and then I could feel the tip of Jeff’s dick pushing in my butt hole.

Mommy and her sister said give the sissy baby what he what he wants .

At first it really hurt,trying to pull on my restraints to get free ,then the pain slowly subsided and began to feel better.

Jeff started pumping away in me like a little kid on a big toy rocking horse on crack, saying baby’s rosebud feels so good….

Jeff kept  pumping away and to my total embarrassment and more humiliation I started to moan in uncontrolled ecstasy forgetting the circumstances this was happening under.

The women cheering for Jeff and laughing at me at getting boned in my diapers .

Then Jeff started pumping my hole harder and I could feel him stiffen up and then he shot his load in my butt saying Mommy I’m cumming .

As he exploded deep inside me, I let out a “LOUD” moan through the big pacifier.

My head was turned toward the women and I could see the great amusement on there faces.

Mommy commenting to Auntie I wish I moaned like that when I got laid by a man ,I think the baby just had a butt orgasm

Jeff finally got off of me and got out of the crib. They release me from my bonds ,I rolled over and discovered to further humiliation I was rock hard.

My diapers and plastic pants were over stretched like a pup tent from my hard on .

The women spotted it and said looks like baby really enjoy his rosebud being popped !

Mommy said we better take care of the baby’s little pee pee.

Mommy came over and began to massage my dick through my plastic pants and diapers ,I began to moan,then she stopped .

She Grabbed a life size teddy bear laying on the floor and placed it in the crib and instructed me to roll on top of it and  hump my diapers like a good baby

I was so f….ing horny to get off I’d do anything at that point .

Embarrassed and humiliated as I was I began to hump the big life size bear in my diapers for relief.

The crinkle of my diapers ,crib mattress cover sent me into a humping frenzy  ecstasy .

They then made me say out loud ’ I’m a baby’ as I humped away .

Mumbling I’m a baby over and over through my pacifier. I was GONE……… ,totally disconnected from reality humping away in baby land.

Only focusing in how good my dick felt in my thick soft diapers felt against my smooth dick .

Then Jeff blurt out, someone sure………. loves beinging a baby braking me out of my frenzy !

Huh Jeff barked at me? I mumbled I ’m a baby ,he replied I can’t hear you and instructed me to look up at him and say it

I said loud as I could through the pacifier I ’m a baby , turning my head to look up at Jeff only to see the lens of a video camera ,thinking ooooh….. shit there filming me, but it was to late I was already over the edge of no return .

Violently exploding with the most intense orgasm of my life Screaming into the camera I’m a BABY. I felt like I was pissing gallons of cum in my diapers moaning over and over I’m a baby, baby, baby through the pacifier.

I laid there exhausted my body  shuttering,breathing hard for a minute saying quietly to myself “ I’m a baby”  as I tried to gather me thoughts. As though I finally was admitting it to myself, I loved babyhood and conceding to it.

Mommy heard me and said you sure are one big baby. You just proved to us, you LOVE….. being a baby .

Mommy looked at Jeff and said did you record all of that ,he said I got every single second of it on video.

She said good with that video he’s going to be very cooperative in the future.

When every I fantasized on my own and got off ,right afterwards I snapped back to adult reality .Well that was not the case this time it made me feel even more infantile . The fact it happened as they all watched and filmed me getting off in baby ecstasy ,now diapers and babyhood made me feel even more helpless and very vulnerable to them.

Since they now held the keys to my biggest secret in my life and were my keepers if they so chose.

Totally emotionally exhausted ,I conceded to my new babyhood and loss of reality .

I endured even more baby treatment that day. Finally being put in super thick layered disposable diapers and old pair of nursery print plastic pants along with a suppository in my butt.

They gave me my clothes back ,I could barely button my jeans and my zipper was jammed open on the diapers they were so bulky .

Leaving my midsection all bulging out ,diapers sticking out of the waist and teddy bear baby pants exposed .

I tried to fix my zipper but Mommy slapped my hand and said leave it alone,then she yanked on it to jam it even more.

Mommy commenting I hope you got enough gas to get home because the whole world will know what a baby you are, if you get out of your car .

They walked me to my car ,me waddling like a 2 year old from the thick diapers and said we’ll expect you next Friday night baby and plan to spend a weekend here.

Remember we have all your information written down from your wallet and know where to find you

Not to forget to mention your first family home baby video .

I drove off in my car feeling totally emotionally drained bound in thick bulky baby diapers ,feeling like a 2 yrs old driving down the street .

[minkkumaz]

ALL GUMMED UP INSIDE

no matter how hard seungheon tries, the hole in his heart grows deeper as you feel almost unreachable. small mistakes that grow into awkward situations. but he just doesn't know how much you like him too.

DISTANT LANDS AND OTHER ADVENTURES series

PAIRING lee seungheon x fem!reader WC 2.6k TAGS adults dni. friends to lovers trope. school au. fluff. mutual pining. crying. angst if you squint. cussing. they're extremely clueless. like very clueless. OMI NOTE this series keeps producing bangers i literally could not giggle any more right now. i'm sososo proud of this so i hope all the minors (adults pls get out u weirdos) in the 8turn fandom are fed.

a void deepened in the confines of seungheon’s body, inching closer and closer to his soul. as if a foreign substance called love crawled its way to strangle him when he was most vulnerable. this feeling was constantly recurring, consuming him whole.

seeing the way your lips perked up into a fond smile when you heard a funny joke, throwing your head back in a fit of giggles. the crinkles on your forehead appearing when there’s a math question you don’t quite understand. it was impossible to look away.

of course, the endless teasing from his hyungs never faltered, but in a way he was too entranced to care. every emotion he felt was worth it to continue seeing you exist. the only shame being the mixed signals you sent. being unable to determine if the touch of your hands was a delusion, or if the spark existed.

every move he made felt like another mistake, staring hopelessly into your clueless eyes. it wasn’t you’re fault that you couldn’t catch on, but you weren’t completely oblivious. you felt it to, but random incoherent babbles came out instead of a clear ‘i like you too’

“why haven’t you just told her yet instead of trying to drop hints?” yungyu questioned, snapping seungheon out of his staring contest with the door.

“it’s not that easy dude. you’ve never had a girlfriend before, let alone a crush!” he whined, burying his face in his hands.

“you’ve never had a girlfriend either! i’m just saying if she hasn’t picked up on anything you should just flat out tell her.” yungyu suggests, ruffling the boys hair.

“i’m better off asking minho or haemin for help.” he groaned in annoyance.

“trust me, they’re going to tell you the exact same thing. take it or leave it.”

seungheon rolled his eyes, throwing a worn out eraser in his friends direction. the two boys had always been close, basically embodying a brotherly - like bond. when he wasn’t with you, he was stuck to yungyu’s side. though when all the fun passed by, he knew gyu meant well. 

the weight of staring at the door, hoping you’d pop in soon, was slightly lifted off his shoulders for the mere second he was distracted. love influenced him in mysterious ways, almost making him feel silly. was this love, or an idiotic perception to mess with his head? despite this, he appreciated the first conclusion a bit more. the sound of a door sliding open interrupted his thoughts suddenly.

when you saw him, your face visibly lit up. an award - winning smile appeared on your lips as you entered all the way into the classroom. you were slugging around a heavy bag on your back, looking as if you could almost topple over. stumbling in your black mary janes, you rush to seat yourself in the empty desk next to him.

“heonie!” you inhale and exhale quickly, dropping your backpack on the floor next to you and practically falling into your seat.

“good morning, y/n!” he greets you, mood immediately much brighter after seeing you, “why such a load?”

“it’s the first day of school! and i might’ve gone overboard with school supply shopping this year?” you shrug, “but look at all these cute pencils!”

you unzip your stationery pouch, pulling out an assortment of colorful led pencils with different patterns and little animals. one of them had a cute panda with puffy cheeks on the side, with a little charm to top it all off.

“here, i got this one for you.” you take his hand suddenly, placing it in his palm. your touch was warm, sending fireworks up his arm.

“for me? i already went school supply shopping, y/n, you really didn’t have to!” he fidgets with it in his fingers.

“well yeah, but i have a matching one!” you hold out another animal themed pencil in front of his face, “see? now it can be special to you.”

“thank you then!” he grinned sheepishly, clicking the end of it to watch the led protrude from cone at the top. 

“y/n, why didn’t you get me a cute pencil?” yungyu complained jokingly from the other side of seungheon’s desk.

“get a grip yungyu, you know i like heon more than you.” you scowl at him.

and on the other side of the spectrum, you and yungyu had a playful rivalry. everything was light hearted one hundred percent of the time, feeling the need to fight for seungheon’s attention. while he knew it was all friendly, his breath grew unsteady and his face began to burn at your words. 

“ouch.” yungyu smirked, giving seungheon a very dramatic wink before trying to go back to whatever he was doing. 

“ask yoonsung for matching stationery or something.” you recommend him.

“maybe he’ll get us some pens on top of that, better step up your game–” the loud blare of a school bell cut him off, initiating the start of classes.

turning your head from him, you took out the rest of your supplies and notebooks just in case you needed to write anything down. the rest of your classmates did the same as the teacher followed in shortly. you nudged the side of seungheon’s leg with your shoe, making him look in your direction.

‘lunch later?’ you mouthed sweetly, making him nod happily in response.

class was always a bore, long lectures giving you the most insufferable headaches ever. the teachers voice being toned out by any thought that decided to surface in your brain. each student almost looked like they were going to pass out, first days of school were like that sometimes. it was either basic instruction that you’ve already heard hundreds of times, or a review quiz.

what you mainly looked forward to in the day was lunch, like many others. this was when you got to spend most of your time with seungheon during the school day. your stomach fluttered with joy (and hunger), getting flashbacks to times when you’d sit closely to share a meal.

everyone filed out into the hallways, rushing to get to the cafeteria in time for the best food options. grabbing your backpack, you rustle through your things in search for your lunchbox. yet alas, that attempt was proven worthless as it was nowhere to be found. a groan left your throat, making your friend look over.

“did you forget your lunch at home again?” seungheon asked you, standing up from his desk.

“bro yes, how come i always do this?! that’s so lame i packed something so yummy too..” you grumble, begrudgingly slipping your arms into the sleeves of your backpack.

“jeez how can you be so adorable sometimes.” he said under his breath.

“you better be whispering about how to solve my lunch problem.” you quirk an eyebrow.

“i’ll just buy you lunch, so don’t worry about it.” he offers.

“aww heonie.” you cheer internally, “you’re too cute. i’ll make sure to pay you back tomorrow, pinky promise.” 

“no it’s fine! i uh– enjoy taking care of you, so really, don’t even think about it.” he acts casually, despite his marathon - winning heartbeat.

“ah.. thank you then.” you say flustered, darting your eyes to the floor.

awkwardness soon surfaces, covering the two of you in a blanket of silence. both of your heads were reeling, trying to comprehend what flirting was and if that conversation was anything close to that. naivety often caused problems between emotional teenagers, and you were no exception.

he enjoyed taking care of you, those words rang through your head like an insufferable telephone. maybe he cared for you more than you perceived him to.

“right, let’s go before they run out of your favorite.” he breaks the tension in the air.

“wait they have my favorite today?” you perk up.

“wouldn’t want you to miss it.” he walks in front of you towards the door, leaving you to catch up behind him.

running over to meet his side, the two of you make your way down the halls to ease your hunger. you’re shoulder to shoulder with him, arms bumping together occasionally, sometimes pinkies. to you, it was mundane being this close to seungheon, but it made you feel like you needed to scream into a pillow.

the cafeteria was bursting with conversation, everyone with their established friend groups and a few lonely stragglers. still following closely behind the boy, you quickly grabbed lunch and sped off to your designated spot with trays in hand.

it was a secluded place, close to the field but not far from the school. shaded off by tall trees, leaves threatening to fall from the branches and be replaced with pungent flowers. you sat criss cross on a bench, flattening your skirt with the palms of your hands appropriately.

“i’m so hungry i could eat a whole building right now.” you rip off the plastic covering your utensils, crumpling it up and placing it under your tray.

“hey slow down, or else you’ll choke.” he cautions as you dig into your food.

“worried you’ll have to pull a heimlich on me?” you say with your cheeks stuffed.

“well i don’t want to but if i have to.” he furrows his eyebrows, making you giggle. 

“you’re dumb heonie, i won’t die in front of you. i’ll probably look funny and that’s embarrassing.”

“the thing you’re worried about isn’t dying, but looking weird?” he laughs, “you’re really pretty either way, that shouldn’t be much of a concern you know.”

“pretty..?” your breath hitches slightly, the tips of your ears already beginning to burn up. 

“uhm– yeah i think you’re–” he swallows, “really pretty–”

“seungheon!” a voice yells from behind him, appearing to be an eager yungyu with minho attached to him.

“i’m going to go to the bathroom real quick!” you squeak out, excusing yourself hurriedly to the bathroom. he lets out a defeated sigh.

the interrupting boys drew closer to you and seungheon’s spot at the bench, confused why he looked so out of it, and why you were walking away from him in panic. a hand landed on his shoulder reassuringly.

“why the long face, seungheon? are you okay?” minho asks, worry lingering in his tone.

“this is just stupid. i can’t keep pushing this down any deeper.” he frowns, “but why do i keep trying if i can’t reach her?”

“what happened exactly?” minho wonders.

“i– i called her pretty and then she rushed to the bathroom out of no where.” he runs a hand through his hair.

“maybe she just really had to pee?” yungyu tries to comfort, earning a light punch on the arm from minho.

“i don’t even know anymore. i am genuinely desperate to know what it’ll take to finally be with her.” 

“telling her straight up is what will probably work the best right now seungheon..” minho told the distressed boy.

“see, i told you!” yungyu added.

“are you guys.. completely positive that will work. because otherwise this feeling is going to consume me whole waiting for this thing to start.” he pleads with his friends.

“positive.” they both say simultaneously.

“okay, fine. then how do you guys suggest i do it?” seungheon gives in.

“whenever she comes back from the bathroom, just say you have something to tell her and lay it out. no use waiting anymore.” minho proposed a plan simply.

“i’ve seen the way she looks at you seungheon, i promise she’ll like you back.” yungyu pat seungheon on the back.

“alright.” seungheon said hesitantly, “you guys better get out before she gets back, or else she’ll think i’m plotting something.”

“aww that’s my little underclassman.” minho pat his head.

“dude don’t be corny..” yungyu gives him a disgusted look, minho mirroring it almost exactly.

“just go! i think she’s coming back.” seungheon swats them away, visibly paranoid.

they trot away quickly, leaving seungheon alone with his thoughts. everything he’s imagining gets notably louder as he waits for your figure to appear back around the corner, borderline hallucinating any movement. this wasn’t anything he’s ever done before, you were his first crush after all.

and because of that, maybe there was more pressure to see whether you reciprocated his feelings or not. first loves never seemed to go away no matter how hard anyone tried, and he doesn’t want to have to imagine you absent in his life. 

once you finally do come back, his stomach is doing somersaults, and his heart palpitating. theres still a slight blush on your face when you sit down on the creaky bench, soon meeting his eyes once you’re fully settled down.

“hi, i’m sorry if i took awhile!” you brush off, twiddling your thumbs together, “what did minho and yungyu want?”

“oh! it’s not that important but um, i wanted to talk to you about something.” seungheon brings up, hands shaking slightly in his lap.

“of course, whats up?” you respond nervously.

“for the longest time, you’ve been one of the closest friends in my life.” he started, “and the last thing i would want is to ruin anything between us.”

“are you saying you don’t want to be friends anymore..?” you almost choke out.

“what? oh my gosh, y/n, no! well, yes but–” he pauses, reaching over your trays to take hold of your hand, “i like you a lot. and it’s kind of been killing me every time i drop a hint that goes unnoticed.”

your lips part like you’re about to say something, but no words come out. instead tears begin to well up in your eyes and your bottom lip quivers, making it painfully obvious that you’re about to cry. a droplet falls from your eye, immediately making seungheon’s eyes widen in horror.

“y/n! please don’t cry i– i didn’t know you were going to react like this i’m so sorry!” he raised his hands to cup your face, wiping your under eye to rid it from any tears.

“seungheon..” you sob out, leaning into his palm, “i didn’t think you were going to like me back.”

“why wouldn’t i like you– wait what?”

“i thought you were just being nice this whole time, i had no clue how to react and– i wasn’t sure how to make it obvious that i liked you.” you sniffed, “that’s why i got us pencils, they even had little hearts next to the panda..”

“and i thought i wasn’t being obvious.” he smiles at your words.

“heonie!”

“i’m kidding. god we’re so stupid aren’t we.”

“maybe a little bit.. but you’ve had me teetering on the edge all day! first you say you liked taking care of me, then you bought me lunch, then you called me pretty?!” you mentally facepalm.

“at least thank minho and yungyu for knocking some sense into me, i was probably going to walk you home next.” he remembered the rest of his plans he had in stow.

“you can still walk me home today..” you stammer, head still resting in the comfort of his hands.

“i wouldn’t plan on having it any other way.” he sighs with relief, stroking away any remaining tears.

“there is one thing we’re missing though!” you mention suddenly.

“bro was i supposed to get you flowers..?” he gasps, moving his hands away to dig for a makeshift gift in his backpack.

you bring his head back to you, placing a soft peck on his lips. it was something new he’s never exactly felt before, but he wouldn’t have it with anyone other than you.

“now we are official. that’s how couples solidify things, right?”

© 2023 minkkumaz, all rights reserved support your writers by reblogging + giving feedback! it is greatly encouraged and appreciated. thank you! → why feedback + reblogging is so important. ~ (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡ if you'd like, donate to minkkumaz !

DISTANT LANDS AND OTHER ADVENTURES series

[femboykyo]

I Pulled The Trigger

Skk fic

⚠️Chuuya does attempt suicide so if you are sensitive about that I'd suggest proceed with caution or don't read.⚠️

Tags: hurt with comfort, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, reincarnation/alternate universe, Suicide Attempt, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort

Chuuya didn't dream.

Or rather he did dream but he never remembered. Except for one. A torturous nightmare that would haunt him for days. He killed Dazai. Everytime it would be a different scenario and end the same way, with Dazai dead. He couldn't understand why. They weren't angry with each other, they weren't cheating or harmful with each other. Chuuya just couldn't wrap his head around why he would hurt the only person, besides Akutagawa and Atsushi, who treated him like another person. He tried to bring it up with Dazai but he just said that it could be stress from work. Chuuya wasn't so sure but he was afraid. He didn't want to lose Dazai, his only reason he felt real. Once again he had a nightmare but this time it was reoccurring. He was pointing a gun at Dazai who was bleeding from previous gunshot wounds. Chuuya didn't want to watch but his body refused to respond to him at all. Dazai was saying something to him, something so Dazai that he was getting embarrassed. But his finger pulled the trigger and Dazai went silent. It was only then he had control over himself and went to Dazai, slipping on the blood that had pooled on the floor. His shaking hands touched his dear Dazai's face but no hand covered his. No words came from his smiling lips. Chuuya's cry was filled with so much pain and sorrow that could never be replicated.

"Dazai!" Was the first thing the Brunette heard from his heavy sleep and he was instantly on his feet. He glanced around the dark room and saw that his partner was screaming in his sleep again. Dazai turned on the table side light and wrapped the smaller man into his arms. He tried calling out to Chuuya and tell him he was okay, it's just a dream, while stroking his head. Eventually the screaming stopped and the redhead woke up with tears rolling down his face, his blue eyes were red and puffy. Chuuya glanced around the now lit up room and snuggled deeper into his blanket.

"There you go, Chuuya. It's okay now."

"Dazai... I hate it."

"I know, Slug."

"I'm so tired."

"I know, Shortie."

"I miss you so much." Dazai rubbed Chuuya's back but he never felt it. He could never feel Dazai. Dazai got a pained smile.

"I know, Chuuya. I miss you too."

"It's all my fault. It's all my fault, if only I could've broken free sooner."

"It was never your fault, Chuuya." Chuuya looked over to his bedside. Due to his night terrors his doctor had prescribed sleeping medication. Dazai knew that look, he knew what that long and glossy gaze meant.

"I miss you... I miss you too much." Chuuya reached for the bottle and poured the entire contents into his hand. Dazai knew he couldn't stop anything but he didn't want Chuuya to think for forever it was his fault, he didn't want him to have that guilt. So he tried anyway. He reached out and hit Chuuya's hand and the medication actually left his hand! Dazai then grabbed Chuuya's wrist and pulled him closer.

"It wasn't your fault." Chuuya's eyes widened.

"Dazai?"

"I'm here." It was almost like a whisper but he heard it, he could hear Dazai. Fresh tears fell and Chuuya was a mess all over again.

"Dazai... Dazai, I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

"I can't do this anymore."

"I know you're tired."

"Dazai..." Chuuya could still feel Dazai's touch on his wrist. He used his free hand to feel the coolness on his wrist.

"Please, Dazai, let me be with you." There was a long pause and he could see Chuuya's heart shatter in his gaze, he was already dying.

"Go to sleep, Chuuya... I'll see you soon." Chuuya's eyes suddenly felt heavy and his body slumped onto the bed. Chuuya Nakahara had died from heart break. Blackness was what Chuuya floated through. No pain, no sadness, just black.

"Chuuya!" Well only for a little while. The redhead opened his eyes, his body felt like it had been hit by a truck.

"Chuuya, you're gonna be late! I'm gonna get coffee without you!" Chuuya hopped out of bed and ran down the stairs, tackling Dazai at the door.

"Don't you dare." Dazai laughed and kissed Chuuya's head.

"You're finally up. How'd you sleep?" Chuuya sat up. How did he sleep? He couldn't remember.

"Good, I guess."

"Good. Hurry up and get dressed. We're gonna be late for the Guardian/Teacher conference for the boys."

"I'm going, I'm going." Chuuya smiled and went back to get ready. Whatever he dreamt about must not have been important. After all what was more important than his Dazai?

This fic is also on Ao3 if you would like to leave a comment or kudos there☺️

[solomon-tozer]

[Results / Poll] Favourite scenes (by episode) from The Terror AMC: "The Ladder" (decider)

There were so many scenes for "The Ladder", so two polls ran... Now the top 5 will do battle!

The rest of the scenes are below, but please bear in mind that it's not exact as there were two polls (I'll do a more accurate ranking later!)

[top 5 removed to slug it out in the poll]

#6: Sir John and Crozier's argument / "You are the worst kind of second" (p1 / 12.7%) #7: Goodsir trying to work out how to position Sir John's leg (p2 / 9.4%) #8: Diggle vs. Wall / "Add salt" (p1 / 8.8%) #9: "We have lost Sir John!" (p2 / 8.6%) #10: Hartnell talking to Silna / "Condolences, Lady Silence" (p1 / 7.8%) #11: Fitzjames and Le Vesconte eavesdropping on Sir John and Crozier's argument (p1 / 7.8%) #12: Morfin singing for/wth the men after Sir John's death (p2 / 5.5%) Sir John remembering Ross's warning (p1 / 4.9%) #13: Other (p2 / 2.3%) #14: Little's scene before his sideburns went puffy and before he lost the plot (p1 / 1%)

[sucktacular]

top 5 bugs (if u like them!!) umm top 5 cat breeds if u dont (srry i cnt think of a fandom ask TT)

THATS OKAY!! Huhu let's see uhhh

1. Isopods (pill bug/rolly polly). They're just lil guys. I think rubber ducky isopods specifically are so so cute!!!

2. Do jumping spiders count as a bug... They're just little puppies. Very smart very talented.

3. Millipedes! Like the small tiny ones are so cute. They are just round friends and won't hurt you.

4. Those really fluffy moths with the big puffy legs and the lil bottle brush antenna!!

5. Hmmm gonna cop out and say lady bug

I actually really don't like a lot of bugs but these guys are all friends 💕 are slugs a bug? I'd say random yellow slug for the 5th if so.

I'm also gonna say cat breeds cuz why not

1. Coming in hot and I'm not bias at all, bobtails!! Japanese and American are both so so darling. My boy Frankie is a bobtail (not pure bred or anything but he meets the criteria of nub ass, big feet, large man, never shut up, etc) and I would die for him hands down.

2. That's it

3. If we count exotics, Servals are so so cute but I wouldn't ever want to have one :(

4. Tiger tiger burning bright I love you tiger so much

5. These aren't normal cats anymore I guess oops. Snow leopard.

[autisticandroids]

warning for flashing and potentially motion sickness

CASTIEL: You're the most caring man on Earth. You are the most selfless, loving human being I will ever know.

[youtube doesn't allow this song to be posted, so for higher quality, here's a google drive link]

a little glimpse of cas' middle school diary.

[dystopiandilfs]

What "weird" kid things each DreamSMP members would do but I'm right and anyone else is wrong.

Dream: Collected anything and made it a pet from slugs to alligators to rock pets etc

George: Would collect stones and shells

Sapnap: Eats any non food item at least once

Wilbur: Had a collection of crystallised real bugs in glass cubes

Tommy: Ate worms and dirt on a self dare

Tubbo: Made "Potions" from anything and everything

Quackity: Once bought home a jar full of frog spawn and grew frogs in his garden

Niki: Had loads of little science kits like crystal and perfume makers

Eret: Collected mowed grass and made bird nests

Hannah: Lamp licker both salt and regular

Ranboo: Would collect snails

Puffy: Used to eat the rock salt thrown on the ground to melt snow

Punz: Blow dandelions at people or accidentally inhale them

Bad: Sticky weed menace

Foolish: Grew sea monkeys and Butterflies with the special kits

Boomer: Would walk past a tree and grab as many leaves as possible whilst accidentally smacking the person behind with a branch

Tina: Flower crown maker with an insane hayfever allergy

Techno: Ladybug collector and fly clapper killer

Ant: Jump in puddles and would end up covered in dirty water

Hbomb: Card collector and trader low-key started a business with it

Karl: Is the brat who'd rat anyone out for a small price

Sam: Thinks it's funny to yell think fast and pretends to throw something but occasionally would actually throw something to keep people in suspense

[modern-vellichor]

Hellloooo!

Please could I request a fic where the reader is really upset about something and life is just getting too much to the point where she starts throwing and breaking things and Bucky has to physically grab her and hug her while she thrashes around to get away from him and then eventually she just breaks down and cries while Bucky holds her?

I could really use a comfort fic like this :(

Thank you so much xx

this. I hope you feel better my love <3 I needed this too.

warnings: angst, breakdowns, violence? (throwing things, hitting etc).

You rubbed at your eyes. The words on your monitor blurred. You couldn't see. You were so tired. It felt as if the world weighed on your shoulders. You could barely keep your eyes open.

The digital clock on your desk flashed at you. You tried to read it. Too late, it told you. Too late to be awake. Too late to be working. The world was asleep.

You pushed away from your table and trudged towards the door. You slugged through the hauntingly empty halls, it was quiet, it was sleepy. Through the dark corridor you cursed, light spilled through the gap under the door to your bedroom.

Bucky was awake.

He always waited for you. It was an affection you weren't used to, and one you often forgot. Which lead to many unforeseen naps on the forever uncomfortable couch in yours and Bucky's shared room. He would always wait for you.

The door clicked open and you hoped he wouldn't be awake. But there he was, splayed across the couch, eyes glued to the nonsense that played on the TV.

"Hey," he sang quietly, standing up and approaching you. "How was your day? I missed you."

He smiled at you. His eyes bright and twinkling and full of life. In that moment you decided, you just weren't in the mood.

The life had been drained from your body. You couldn't bare to deal with his blind optimism that was so unjustified. A man that tortured was expected to be a pessimist, and yet he stood before you preaching about the bright side.

"Not tonight, Bucky." You mumbled, gently pushing him away from you.

You shrugged off your cardigan, allowing it to fall to the floor. You kicked your shoes off. You dragged your feet across the hardwood floors until you reached your bed. The cool covers were a welcome feeling on your skin, cheek flush against the pillow as your eyes shut.

"What's wrong, babe?"

You groaned. Bucky's voice cuts through the blissful silence.

"Nothing," you snap, rolling over until your legs dangled over the side of the bed and your back is bine straight. "I'm just tired."

Bucky seems offended by your outburst. He really just wants to help. He loved you so much. It pained him to see you like this, pale, drained of all your usual colour and brightness and love for life. Your usual yearning for excitement and attention had disappeared. He was hurt. You were hurt.

"Let me help you, doll," he pleaded. "Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing!"

Very suddenly you stood up. Bucky almost jumped. You backed yourself against the wall. Bucky knew better than to approach you. He kept his distance, allowed you your space.

"Please love. I just want to help."

"I don't want your help!" You scream. "I'm so sick of being treated like a charity case by you people!"

Bucky does jump this time. You never shout at him. You never even raise your voice. You were always so gentle with him, so patient and loving. Bucky would have been frightened by your outburst if he had not known how stressed you were.

He took small steps. He inched forward, slowly so that you didn't notice as you ranted.

"You people think you're so high and mighty and I'm just some rat to be poked and prodded! And then I come home to your false sympathy! For one goddamm second I want to be left alone and you look at me like I'm some nutcase!"

You reached for the empty vase that sits on your desk. It was purely decorative, worthless too. So you felt nothing as it left your grip, colliding with the wall on the other side of the room. Bucky flinched as it shattered, shards of ancient porcelain falling to the floor.

Bucky took a big step forward now. He was lunging for you. He wanted no destruction. He wanted to subdue you, calm you. He wanted to love you.

He grabbed your wrist as you reached for the little statue on your desk. It was something that held more sentimental value, and if Bucky let you break it now, you'd be devastated in the morning.

You fought against him, trying to wiggle out of his grasp. Bucky pulled you forward. Your cheek hit his chest. You balled your hands into fists and half heartedly slammed them into his chest.

"Let go of me!"

Bucky wrapped his arms around you, unaffected by your efforts. His chin rested on your head as he shushed you.

"It's okay, honey," he cooed quietly. "Calm down, I've got you."

Eventually, you stilled. You grabbed fists of Bucky's shirt and broke down. You sobbed quietly, burying your face into the crook of his neck. You snaked your hands around Bucky's waist as you cried.

He backed the both of you up until the backs of his knees hit the edge of the bed. He collapsed onto the sheets and curled around you. He cradled you close to his chest for what seemed like hours until your cries soused.

Your face is stained and red, eyes puffy. Your breathing is still ragged when Bucky takes your face in his hand. He kisses the stray tears off of your cheeks, peppering chaste kisses all over your face.

"I love you," he whispers, pulling you back against his chest.

"I love you, too."