#fear street fic

[phefics]

a wand & a rabbit

ship: simon kalivoda x afab!reader summary: based on this prompt, sort of a sequel to this fic but you don't have to read the first part to understand this one!! includes: afab!reader, gn!reader (no pronouns/gendered petnames), vibrator usage (internal/external), established relationship, love confessions word count: 1.3k

You and Simon had been together for a few months, but your sex lives hadn’t advanced much alongside your romantic feelings for one another.

You had sex that night at the school, when you were convinced that you would both die before sunrise, and you had been each other’s first times. After that, you had messed around a bit, sucking his cock and him burying his fingers deep inside your pussy, but it had been pretty…vanilla, for lack of a kinder word.

Simon had a sexual sense of humor, and had often made quips about being into things more than just fucking. He liked when you playfully bullied him, and when you tugged at his hair while he went down on you. But whenever the mood struck, he seemed to get a one-track-mind, wanting nothing more than to chase your pleasure, as well as his own.

It was good sex, but it left a bit more to be desired, questions to be answered.

So, you were on a date with him at the mall when you wandered into Spencer’s Gifts and found yourself browsing the section in the back, a wall full of sex toys from floor to ceiling.

Simon slung an arm over your shoulders and chuckled. “See anything you like, sweetheart?” he asked.

You couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, so you answered honestly. “I’ve never had a vibrator before,” you said. “Maybe I’ll get one.”

Simon’s playful smile seemed to morph to a more mischievous grin at your words, his blue eyes scanning the wall with a newfound sense of curiosity. “Really? What kind?”

Your own eyes followed his, looking over the expanse of available toys. Your gaze lands on a pink box with promises of pleasure written across it, the toy equipped with a part for insertion as well as a part for clitoral stimulation, and you reached out to grab it.

"That one?" he asked. He took the box from you without waiting for an answer, reading over the various text. "Seems like fun."

You nodded, going to snatch it back from him, but he easily evaded your hands and made a beeline for the counter, clearly determined to pay for it despite his less-than-ideal financial situation.

You jogged behind him, earning a disapproving glance from a worker, and called after him. "Simon, don't you dare—"

It was too late. The box was already plopped down on the counter, his wallet pulled out of his pocket.

You gave him a glare, and he grinned back.

***

When you got back to your house, Simon wasted no time. He ripped open the box, sitting at the edge of your bed.

"We have to wait for it to charge," he all but whined, fiddling with the button to no avail.

"I guess we'll have to keep busy while it does," you replied.

His cheeks flushed as he fumbled with the charger, trying to figure out where and how to plug the damn thing in, and your comment certainly didn't help his sense of urgency.

You giggled at him when he finally figured it out, taking a sarcastic bow before he all but pounced onto the bed, hands reaching for your hips.

Your lips met, noses bumping slightly, and he made clumsy work of your pants, trying to tug them down your thighs without breaking the kiss, which went about as well as you'd expect.

He finally broke away, chuckling, pulling your pants and underwear off, his eyes locked on your pussy, already wet at the idea of him using that toy on you.

"Fuck," he groaned, his cock evidently hard in his jeans. "That thing better charge fast, or I'll sue the whole company."

You laughed, reaching to pull him into another kiss, and he obliged, his hands holding your thighs. He pulled them apart gently, rubbing your skin before using one hand to cup your pussy, sliding a single finger inside of you.

"That toy looks kinda thick, baby. Gotta make sure you're ready for it."

You nodded, letting out a soft moan as he entered you.

He fingered you gently, adding one more finger. It was just enough to stretch you, to get you worked up and wanting, but no faster than that. He was clearly just building up to that toy, teasing.

You whined in protest, asked him to add another finger, asked him to go faster, harder, but he didn't. He just kept a slow, methodical pace that made you want to cry.

After what felt like an hour, although it had probably been closer to thirty minutes, Simon decided to see if the toy was ready for use. He clicked the little button and his eyes went wide as the thing began to vibrate with more power than he'd expected, looking at you with a wicked smile.

"You ready, baby?" he asked.

You nodded, butterflies in your stomach.

He turned it off again, lining it up with your hole. "I'll do it slow, okay? Lemme know if it's too much."

"I will," you promised, not bothering to conceal the desperation in your voice.

He pushed it inside, slow like he'd said, and you whined as it began to fill you up. It was girthier than Simon's cock, but significantally shorter. You felt the little silicone nubs at the top nudge against your clit, and although there was no vibration, the sudden sensation made you buck your hips up, seeking that stimulation.

"Does that feel alright?" he asked.

"Yes, feels good," you replied. "Can you turn it on now?"

"If you don't like it, tell me. It seems kinda strong."

"I promise I will, just turn it on!" you whimpered, feeling truly desperate as the toy sat still inside of you.

Simon leaned forward to peck your lips, and while you were distracted by the kiss, he turned it on.

You gasped, your back arching as the vibration coursed through you, against your clit as well as inside you, and you couldn't help the moan that burst from your lips.

Thank god no one else was home.

"Oh my god," you said. "Fuck, it's so—fuck!"

"Is that a good thing?" Simon asked, his expression torn somewhere between worry and arousal.

"So good. It's so good, oh my god," you cried, your body squirming with the intensity. "Kiss me again, please."

He did as you asked, holding your hips steady as they bucked desperately into the toy.

It was like nothing you'd ever felt before. You had touched yourself, been touched, but nothing could have prepared your for this. It was indescribable, how amazing it felt.

It didn't take long until you could feel your orgasm approaching, and you grabbed at Simon's blond hair, tugging on it roughly. He gave a little moan of his own.

"You gonna cum?" he asked.

You nodded, a pleasured sob leaving your lips.

"Good. Cum for me, baby."

And you did, head tipped back, legs shaking.

Immediately, the toy began to feel overstimulating, more sensitive after your orgasm, and you shook your head, trying to form words. "Out," was all you managed to say, but Simon understood and shut the toy off before slowly pulling it out of you, his eyes locked on how wet the silicone had gotten.

"You alright?" he asked.

You took a few deep breaths, nodding. "I'm okay. That was just...Wow. It's fucking strong."

"I can tell," he giggled. "Did you like it, though?"

"I loved it."

"And I love you," Simon said, without thinking, and then went red at his admission. He hadn't said that yet. Before, when you were just friends, you had platonically said that you loved each other, but ever since the night you fucked, the phrase had felt entirely different to say. "Shit, I'm sorry, I should have picked a better time to say that."

"No, no, it's okay," you said, smiling. "I love you too."

Simon grinned. "How about we get you cleaned up, then we can go back to the sappy talk, hm?"

"Sounds like a plan."

[totally-not-your-babe]

Welcome to Hawkins Chapter I.

Warning(s): talking of child neglect, grief, parent death, major spoilers for the book Flight of Icarus, talking about drug use

Word count: 1527

A/N: I know I promised it for yesterday (and the day before); but I really couldn't keep myself up after work, but as an apology I made it longer than I was originally planning to.

“I have a couple of ideas for a new song.” Jo told her brother as he opened the door of the trailer for her. Eddie hummed as he put his guitar down on the sofa, walking to the kitchen to heat something up for dinner.

“I’m listening” he called back as Jo grabbed his guitar with hers in her other hand and walked towards their room.

“I was thinking about something slow” she practically shouted back as she put the instruments to their places. They spent three hours in Gareth’s garage practicing, that’s how much his mother could tolerate before pulling the plug giving the message that it was time to pack it up. She already put up with them longer than Doug’s mother did back in the days. “Like not all the way slow, just the beginning and the end, and the middle be like…”

“Bang” said Eddie with a small smile listening to his little sister’s ramble.

“Exactly!” she said walking back to the kitchen. “A bit Bohemian Rhapsody like, but not entirely, more bang less Galileo.” Jo sat down watching Eddie bustling around the kitchen.

“You want the slow part with piano?” He asked looking over his shoulder.

“I can’t even remember when the last time was, I played piano” she sighed resting her chin on her hands. “Mom loved when I did” she added quietly which made Eddie freeze for a second. “Sorry.” Jo whispered leaning back on the chair fidgeting with her fingers.

“Don’t apologize for talking about her.” Eddie turned back to her, but she wasn’t looking at him. “Hey” he walked to Jo ruffling her hair playfully.

“I can barely remember her.” she said biting the inside of her cheeks.

“You were little when she…” he bit his tongue standing there for a little, then leaned down and gave Jo a kiss on the top of her head. “She loved you, she loved me, that’s all you need to remember.”

Eddie continued to make dinner for themselves and put away some for Wayne for when he gets home from work as Jo sat at the table deep in her thoughts.

“I think I’ll go for a walk.” she stood from the chair walking towards the door. “Shout when dinner’s ready?” Eddie only nodded, him too deep in his thoughts.

Talking about their parents was always a sensitive topic, especially after what happened the year before. Eddie would have bet his life that if his little sister saw their father in the near future, she would punch his face in, and he couldn’t blame her. He would’ve love to do the same, but he knew no matter how angry and disappointed he as with his father he couldn’t do it. Jo on the other hand… She was always more than happy to use her “tiny” fists to solve an escalated situation with the jocks, especially with Tommy H and lately with Jason Carver. She wasn’t violent or abusive, just ready to protect herself and those she cared about. Eddie usually took on the role of punching bag, taking the punches that would have been thrown at others, Jo would return them with equal interest.

The younger Munson walked outside, pacing up and down between the trailers, kicking stones and empty cans of Coke and beer, which she then threw into the nearest trash can. Today she thought more about her parents than she was comfortable with. Thinking about her mother always made her sad, made her want to curl up and cry, hide away just like when she was a little girl. Thinking about Al Munson on the other hand made her mad beyond imagination. Her fists clenched at the thought of him ever coming back after what he did to Eddie the last time he dared to turn up at their doorsteps. At the door of the very house that burned down because of him.

“Fucking piece of shit” she muttered angrily under her nose kicking a stone. She was about to turn around and walk back to their trailer when she heard shouting and one of the trailer doors swung open.

“Yeah? Well, that wasn’t my idea to fucking move here!” Jo heard the owner of the voice shout angrily and she recognized it right away. Simon. “This is bullshit!” he added more quietly as he slammed the door. He wore the same clothes that he did back in school, only the red hoodie was zipped up and he slung the hood carelessly over his head. Jo watched him for a while as he angrily paced up and down muttering under his breath. She let out a small sigh then put her fingers in her mouth letting out deafening whistle that made the dogs in the trailer park bark excitedly. Simon snapped his head towards her, and she waved at him, motioning towards the benches with her head. Jo was the first to get there, getting comfortable as she fished her cigarette out of her pocket. “Hey” Simon smiled at her when he sat down next to Jo, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Hey yourself” she offered him a cigarette and he took it. “No funny things in it I’m afraid.”

“Shit” Simon groaned with fake disappointment. “I was hoping for it.”

“It was about work.” he shook his head and took a long drag. “Back home I had a job since I was fifteen, I was even employer of the month and shit. I was giving money home but now moving here…”

“I’m out of it, sorry.” she chuckled lighting her coffin nail then gave the lighter to the blond boy. “Did you have a fight with your parents?” Jo asked puffing out the smoke, even though she knew the answer. Simon didn’t answer just hummed as he lit his smoke. “Wanna talk about it?”

“I’m sure you’ll find something.” Jo nudged his shoulder with an encouraging smile. “I can ask Wayne, maybe he knows something. And if he doesn’t, with that new mall opening soon I’m pretty sure there will be plenty of jobs.”

“Thanks” Simon looked up at him with a sincere smile. “Who’s Wayne?”

“Our Uncle. Me and Eddie, we live with him.”

“Difficult parents?” he asked which made Jo take a really long drag.

“Mom dead. Dad ditched.” Jo replied curtly.

“I’m sorry. He might come back.” he said with an adorable comforting smile.

“I might put him six feet under if he does, after last year.” Jo’s voice was bitter as she put out the cigarette and reached to light another. Simon didn't know whether to ask what happened last year, but his curiosity got the better of him.

“What happened last year?”

“He waltzed back like it was the most natural thing in the world, he did it before many times, but this time he dragged Eddie into his bullshit. Eddie was an idiot too for trusting him but…" she sighed. "Anyway, as it was expected it bit him – and Eddie – in the ass, got our house burned down by criminals, got Eddie arrested and fucked up his chance to leave Hawkins for good. Alan Munson ladies and gentlemen.” she scoffed. “He didn’t even call to ask if Eddie was released or not.”

“Asshole number one, huh?”

“King of the assholes. An ignorant, selfish bastard.” she put out her second cigarette. “Sometimes I wish he was dead and not mom…” she whispered her throat tight. Simon felt that it was time to change the subject and regretted having even asked.

"I don't think your brother likes me." he took a drag from the cigarette.

"I wouldn't be so sure about it." Jo snatched the cigarette from the blond boy. "Eddie is just... Well Eddie." She coffed taking a drag and Simon raised his brows as he looked at her. "Believe it or not, knowing him my whole life and that's the best explanation I can give you. He is just Eddie. Has a heart of gold, if the Jocks jumped you, he wouldn’t hesitate to stand between you and them, he would complain afterwards, don’t get me wrong, he is a drama queen.” Jo said with a chuckle and Simon followed suit. “But he does it because he really is a good person. No matter what these narrow-minded fucks in this town say. He just doesn’t know you yet. He needs to warm up a bit.”

Simon was about to open his mouth when the door of the Munson trailer swung open.

“Jo?” Eddie shouted looking for his sister in the dark.

“Coming!” she shouted right back jumping off the bench. “I have an idea” she turned back to Simon. “How about we go to school together tomorrow? Pick you up, just outside half past eight?”

“I was supposed to go with my brother but, yeah cool” Simon nodded enthusiastically.

“He can come too, enough space in the back of the van.” she winked walking backwards. “I’ll tell Eddie. Night Little Sheep!” she said with a wide smile disappearing in their trailer with her brother leaving behind Simon who had a confused look on his face hearing the strange nickname. Little Sheep.

Please tell me if you want to be tagged!

@snazzynacho;

@headofeddienation

[sicko4smut]

Everybody’s A Suspect! | B. Floyd

synopsis: A string of murders in the fall of ‘84 in a small town shakes the residents of WoodSprings to their core

warnings: violence, murder, eventual smut, gore, porn with a whole lot of plot, inaccuracies of the 80s (have mercy), personal head cannons of characters/dynamics, dubious consent, pushy male characters who can’t take no, bullying, physical harm, other warnings i can’t think of right now

PSA- i do not own any characters, names, ideas, or royalties of the ‘Scream Franchise’ or ‘Top Gun Maverick’

CHAPTERS

📼 1.1 - A Body…In WoodSprings?

PLAYLIST 📻 (no particular order)

The Perfect Girl - Mareux

Dark Red - Steve lacey

Somebody’s Watching Me - Rockwell

Hidden In The Sand - Tally Hall

The Red Means I Love You - Madds Buckley

Smooth Criminal- Micheal Jackson

Arms Tonite - Mother Mother

Sippy Cup - Melanie Martinez

Headlock - Imogen Heap

♪♫♪

─•────

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺

MEET THE CHARACTERS

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ 🏈 - Jake Seresin as ‘Dumb Jock’

* Jake is captain of the football team and son of the town’s mayor, super rich boy vibes

* Wholeheartedly believes you and him should be together because he is captain of football team and your cheer captain

* All brawns no brain up there, his poor skull is sitting there collecting dust and head trauma from getting tackled one too many times. 🏆 𓈒⟡₊⋆∘˚⊹ ࿔

🎸⋆⭒˚｡- Bradley Bradshaw as ‘Punk Outcast’

* Rooster is a free-spirited, rule-less, angsty, outcast

* Stays to himself and rarely ever talks, seriously no one has heard the guy say more than three words since high school

* working to put himself through college even though the stress from college and work is kinda making him flunk out

* Butts heads with Jake, two sides of different coins mixed with egos, passive aggression, and LOTS of testosterone leading to many physical fights between the boys. ᶠᶸᶜᵏᵧₒᵤ! ‧₊˚🕷‧₊˚

☥🦇 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪ - Nat as ‘Freak Loner’

* Out of her nerdy, timid shell from high school and free as can be…Natasha has voiced her disdain for all oppressive nature and love of the unknown, terrifying, and paranormal.

* She doesn’t feel the need to pretend to be uninterested in her education to fit her aesthetic when all is said and done, Natasha wants something to call her own and a degree is just that. So she’s willing to swallow her pride on how the world forces you into school for years right into the capitalist system of working for even longer before screwing you over even more the longer you let them..though she sure won’t be quiet about it

* But don’t be fooled by her dark makeup, passionate outburst, and spooky demeanor as hard she tries to bury her, that nerdy timid girl within Nat keeps kicking no matter how hard she beats her down. 𓉸ྀི ✮₊⊹₊⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆₊ ⊹✮

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ -You as ‘The Town’s Sweetheart’

* You never wanted for anything in life for as long as you could remember, born with a silver spoon in your mouth however you were never snotty about it…never let it get to your head

* Miss goody-two-shoes as you were called was always the first one to volunteer your help whenever needed, first to be picked for the cheer team, first to speak up when someone was being bullied, first place in the Woodsprings beauty pageant, Prom Queen, Co-class president, captain of dance committee. It was all honestly a little overboard but you loved it all, love how busy it made you and how you were praised by seemingly everyone around you.

* Your family being the second wealthiest people in Woodsprings (thank you mommy and daddy) it was a given you never worried about how you were going to pay for college, the thought never crossing your mind until you overhear some peers complaining about how THREE jobs weren’t even enough to cover book fees so they would have to go to the local community college instead…it left you with an odd feeling never really having had the chance to acknowledge your privilege °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

⊹₊⟡⋆ 🔪 - Bob Floyd as ‘Ghostface’

* The man of the hour, our beloved robby. Fed up with being bullied and patronized, bob fights back…he didn’t mean for the guy to die but he would be lying is he said he didn’t like the silence that came with one less of those losers gone.

* Sweet boy who lives with his single mother trying to help her pay bills by working a variety of on campus jobs, from handyman to security to library assistant…anything that pays to lighten the load off her back

* Geek Charming in the flesh, bob but always robby to you has always been super smart which is why he was head of chess club, class president, and valedictorian in high school and awarded a full-ride scholarship to Woodsprings University

* Robby has had a crush on you since the first grade, it’s honestly a mix between creepy and embarrassing how bad he had it for you but you rarely noticed him anyway. When you did seem to remember his existence you were always so sweet just like he knew you to be his sweet girl

🪓 . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

• This a masterlist/promotion for a WIP soon to be fic

• All actual chapters will be published on my main account @smutmaniac

• Please like and reblog

[crybaby-bkg]

Gojo has always been a bit of a glutton. it’s his worst trait, you think, despite the many others that he inflicts upon you in your daily life. but, it’s just not enough for you. he does that with everyone, this kind, funny, flirtatious kind of banter. getou tells you he’s different with you, shoko makes note of how he’s really not like that with so many people.

but it’s not enough. so you start cooking up different things, these desserts intertwined with a certain potion that’ll make his attention be on solely you. you crush your flowers and sprinkle them into the boiling pot, sprinkle in a little bit of this and a dash of that, before you cut off a tiny piece of your hair and let it flutter into the concoction. it doesn’t let out a tuft of pink smoke in the shape of a heart, but you have faith that it’s gonna work.

“I’ll give you a piggyback ride if you let me have that,” Gojo tries to barter with you the next day he sees you, sitting under a tree and unwrapping the piece of cake that you had oh so conveniently whipped up. you pretend to think it over, unable to help your smile as you think about how easy this is going to be, before agreeing.

it happens over time, the effects of the love potion. first, Gojo becomes a bit more clingy. he hurries across campus to make sure that he’s able to walk you back to your apartment, carries all of your bags for you. then he starts buying you all sorts of things that you don’t necessarily need (do you want breakfast?, do you need a new laptop?, can I buy you a new bed?, can we break it in?).

and everything is great at first. you adore the attention, the grandeur way he asks you to be his partner, how he moves you in quick, loves you even quicker. but, after a while, it just becomes a bit…much.

his love is never ending, which shouldn’t be a bad thing, but his love is also—everything. it’s in every crevice of your body, every nook and cranny between the walls, every exhale you take. he’s there—always just there—always just close and lingering and clingy (where are you going? can I come with you? why are you looking at me like that? don’t you love me? I love you, I love you so much, so where are you going?)

it’s not until you’re suffocating that you realize your mistake, all too late. Gojo is all encompassing, takes up all the space in your head and your line of vision and your breaths and the blood that flows in your veins. he loves you—this was what you wanted, right?—but you never wanted this, this obsession that bleeds from his very being every second that he’s near you, which is every second of every single fucking day. you never wanted any of this.

“Baby?” Gojo calls from the other side of the locked door, clawing at it like some forlorn house cat even though you know he could take it down if he so pleased. “Are you almost finished? I miss you,” his voice is a plead, as if his heart is shriveling up in his chest with every second he’s not pressed against you.

with a sigh, do you finally lift yourself from the corner of the bathroom floor, unfolding your limbs with a groan. you don’t dare look at yourself in the mirror, fearing the image of the hollowed person that is bound to stare back at you. with hesitation, do you finally unlock the door. you don’t even have to pull it open before Gojo is barging his way in, engulfing you in long arms that seem to wrap around you like some never ending boa constrictor.

“You’d never try to leave me, right? Because you love me so much.” Gojo says into your hair, his voice one that tries to convince you of its truth. and there is some there, along with the guilt of ruining him in this grotesque way that you have no other choice but to accept and live with until it suffocates you.

“Yeah.” your murmur, sinking into his body, let him hold you so close, you think you can feel his veins pulling at his skin to intertwine with your own. “Yeah, I love you, Satoru.”

(he doesn’t dare tell you that he knew all about that little potion you whipped up, how it never had any actual affect on him for more than just a couple hours. but this was what you wanted, right? for him to love you? so why not continue to just love you in his own way that’s somehow, convincingly, all your fault? why not let you take the blame for his greediness? you wanted this, right? right?)

[veryinnovative]

@jegulus-microfic | april 30, prompt: sky | word count: 1.927 featuring older ceo regulus black and younger secretary james potter part 2 | part 1 AKA word on the street is i Excel in the sheets

“Erh…” he tries after a stretch of silence. “So, how was your day?”

Regulus pins him frozen to place with a look, a sign spelling ‘stupid’ nailed right into his forehead. “You know how my day was. You manage my schedule.”

Damn, tough crowd. “Okay,” James drawls, a little unsure. “But, like, how did it go?”

The place functions as any other hole-in-the-wall restaurant that serves just a handful of people throughout the day, most of whom are loyal customers returning every so often for a comfort meal when homesickness becomes a little too much to bear. Even now, there are only a couple of people scattered about, none of which pay any mind to either Regulus or James.

“So, first impressions?” James asks when he takes a seat across from him.

“It’s satisfactory.”

“Satisfactory.” James blinks.

Regulus is quiet. He looks terribly out of place wearing a luxury suit exported from one of the globe’s corners and James can’t help but feel a little guilty. He’s seen Regulus carve into lobster with only a fork and knife but still can’t help but worry about future dry cleaning prices for which he may or may not be responsible.

“Erh…” he tries after a stretch of silence. “So, how was your day?”

Regulus pins him frozen to place with a look, a sign spelling ‘stupid’ nailed right into his forehead. “You know how my day was. You manage my schedule.”

Damn, tough crowd. “Okay,” James drawls, a little unsure. “But, like, how did it go?”

Regulus, perhaps finally acknowledging his poor attempts at small talk to ease the awkwardness, studies him intently for a long, close moment before acquiescing. “Enervating.” Right, because Regulus is the type to unironically use words like enervating. 

“The business deal?” James asks and Regulus nods. “Dude from Jakarta, right?”

“The CEO from the biggest real estate company in Jakarta,” Regulus corrects him. 

Tomato, tomato. “Does this mean you get to leave work at a reasonable hour starting tomorrow?”

“I’ve never had reasonable working hours.”

“Of course, I forgot the very important detail you’re a raging workaholic.”

Regulus’ mouth sets into a firm line as his brows knit together into a censorious frown—his entire face contorting into something that’s one odd remark away from turning downright petulant. “I am not—” He stops. Breathes in. Probably recognizes James is very carefully pulling his tail and for some reason becomes decidedly collegial. “Allow me to rephrase myself. I am meticulous. I prefer finishing tasks before going home and don’t mind when it results in me staying at work a little longer. It’s inevitable as a CEO when timezones don’t work in my favor.” 

Absolute bullshit. “Just last week you kept leaving the office after the cleaning shift already came by to sweep the place clean. I know because they told me.”

“I can’t see how any of this poses as a bother to you.” And there it is, the good ole Regulus Black-esque deflection. 

“I’m just worried. That is all.”

Regulus’ nose twitches and he looks away, a clear indication that he no longer wants to be a willing participant in the conversation. When Regulus becomes like this, James has learned to leave it be.

Luckily, it doesn’t take long for the food to arrive. James can stop pretending to take in the beautiful sight of the night sky, cracked asphalt, and the flickering colors of traffic signs when the plate is placed on the center of the table, carrying an assortment of different meat cuts and a modest side salad that will probably be Regulus’ for the taking.

Using the table etiquette of a properly groomed aristocrat, Regulus carefully selects some vegetables to put on his plate and a modest serving of rice. He skillfully carves out some pieces around the skewer.

“Seriously,” James deadpans. “Go on, Your Royal Highness, you can use your hands for this.”

Regulus almost bridles at the mere suggestion.

“Seriously, there’s no shame in it. Here, let me do it for you”

Regulus watches as James grabs one of the skewers and uses his fork to tear chunks off, dropping a generous portion of roasted vegetables and meat on Regulus’ plate. “You want some of this flatbread?”

Regulus shakes his head and James shrugs. He swiftly mouths off a dollop of sauce on his thumb, which earns him one of Regulus’ notorious James-exclusive grimaces.

Right, table manners.

They get to eating and James is once again reminded of how much of a slow eater Regulus is. It’s like he counts his chews, jaw working diligently with the faint scrapes of his cutlery against the plate. That and he works even as he eats, almost on auto-pilot with how he takes out his phone to open Outlook.

“Using your phone at the table is rude manners,” James teases.

“I got an e-mail.”

“Of course.” He nods. “Nothing workaholic about that, no.”

“It’s an important e-mail.”

“You know I read something about how it’s also important to spend time with your employees.”  He waves around a piece of the flatbread as if to emphasize the point. “Get to know them better and all.”

“I know plenty about you,” Regulus answers as he types away.

“That so?”

Regulus looks at him, entirely indifferent as the phone is placed face-down on the table. “James Potter. Twenty-three years old. Finished your master’s degree at Oxford, with flying colors might I add. You took a gap year to travel, working all sorts of jobs to pay for your accommodation. Currently, you live near Camden and spend most of your spare time enjoying hobbies or going to the pub with your friends. You have a Joe and the Juice stamp card.”

James tries not to physically reel back. “That…” He starts, absolutely nonplussed. Someone come pick his fucking jaw off the table, it’s dropped off its hinges. “You know what Joe and the Juice is?” Impossible, all things considered. Regulus is in a tax bracket where chain restaurants might seem like fanciful inventions, the kind of places mentioned only in tales where fine dining is unheard of. There's a brief curiosity about whether this is the equivalent of discovering that Toy Story's Pizza Planet is a real place that actually serves food.

“I've come to understand that it's a venue offering juice among a broad array of meals and beverages, yes.”

Still, that’s doesn’t explain… “How do you even know all of that? I hardly even know anything about you other than that you recently turned thirty and were homeschooled for this position.” And that he’s quite fond of the occasional handful of candied macadamias when feeling particularly indulgent. James keeps a packet of it in his bag.

Regulus’ throat bobs. “I do thorough research on the people I employ”

That’s not more than thorough research at this point, far beyond the usual background checks done on new personnel. “Uh-uh. Or you stalk my Instagram during your free time.”

Regulus promptly chokes on his food. His fork falls onto the plate with a loud clatter. James nearly knocks his knee against the table as he too scrambles for the pitcher to pour him water, almost knocking over his can of Sprite in the process.

“Easy, I was just kidding.” He has half the mind to stand up and start patting him on his back to dislodge whatever molecular-sized cucumber wedged itself in his airpipe. “I doubt Mr. Black Enterprises even uses Instagram.”

Regulus looks up startled. Definitely not from the lack of air.

Oh.

Ohohohoh.

“Oh my god.” James’ face splits into a distinguished, shit-eating grin. “You do.” 

“What?” It’s barely a wheeze with the way Regulus has been caught. His grip is deadly around the fork, something that should warn James to be wary.

“Instagram,” James repeats, trying his hardest not to gloat when Regulus shivers. “You use it? The Regulus Black uses Instagram? I thought you would be a member of some upper-echelon-exclusive platform instead of mingling with us.”

The worry swiftly dissipates, giving way to confusion, and then settles into something far more at ease. Although James enjoys those fleeting moments where he gets Regulus riled up, he much prefers seeing him relaxed. “Oh—I—Yes. Occasionally,” he stammers, swallowing and reaching for a napkin to dap at his mouth with. “Barty convinced me,” he hastily adds. “It’s a very private account. I’m hardly active on it.”

Sinking into his seat, James pats around for his own phone. “You should follow me.”

“Shu?”

“On Instagram. You should follow me. If you want, of course.”

The tips of Regulus’ ears turn a delicious pink as he returns his attention to his plate. “I’ll think about it.”

After some more idle talk and eating, they decide to head out before Barty ultimately decides it’s past working hours and he’s not dropping Regulus off at home—some palatial penthouse tucked away in one of London's secluded enclaves where the affluent reside, enjoying a life of extravagance as they remain shielded from the public gaze.

Nonetheless, the cherished designated driver will have to linger a bit longer, as both James and Regulus pull out their cards at the cash register. Being a very wise man, Hakeem registers the amount into the terminal and swiftly turns away, well aware that nothing good ever comes from getting involved.

James dismissively waves his hand. “You can put away your card, it’s on me.”

Of course, Regulus isn’t compliant in the slightest. “I made you feel obligated to stay longer than you intended, so it's only right that I pay.”

“I’m the one who invited you, come now.”

“And I’m the one responsible for making you miss out on dinner.”

“Nah. I told you, it was my fault. Seriously, I want to—”

He attempts to move closer, but Regulus also edges forward. Despite being shorter, Regulus exudes an air of authority that instinctively compels James to widen the gap between them and not bump into him. “And I insist.”

But luckily, James is taller and his arms are longer. “Gotta be quicker than that then.”

He extends his arm, shooting right past Regulus’ and taps his card against the terminal, smiling smugly when Regulus scowls up at him, not in the least impressed by his playing dirty. James’ lips part, a jab resting right on the tip of his tongue, something along the lines of ‘They don’t teach you this at fancy pants school?’ only for a chime to disrupt his train of thought.

Card declined.

“Low funds, Yakup,” Hakeem announces without looking over his shoulder like James isn’t sinking to his knees in embarrassment already. 

“You got paid four days ago,” Regulus murmurs at his side.

“Rent and utilities were due yesterday.” It nearly comes out in a whine.

“I doubt your rent takes up your whole salary.”

“I also had to pay off my credit card,” James grits out, fumbling through his wallet looking for some cash. In an alternative universe where they’re starred in some cartoon show, the poor faux leather division coughs up dust motes.

“Seriously? How much do you make?

“Might I remind you that you pay me.”

The way Regulus clutches onto his credit card, unlimited of course, one might think the poor thing is about to fold in half. James might as well, to be honest. “Move.”

“No.” His pride’s already been hurt. “Hakeem, can I pay in installments?”

“Only if you take young Khadija out on a date.”

James considers it for a moment, but Regulus the comment only makes Regulus seethe further, “Potter, if you don’t move I’ll give you a reason to worry.”

That’s enough to convince James. He steps away, all kicked puppy-like, and watches how Regulus’ payment gets processed far quicker. “Next time’s on me.”

Regulus rolls his eyes, even as the apples of his cheeks dust pink. “Come, I’m tired and want to go home.”

[snazzynacho]

Do they have similar vibes or am I going insane?

[mya-cookie-eater]

Imagine…

You’re your comfort characters comfort character 

C/c=comfort character 

Warning ⚠️:kinda sad at the end but at first kinda cute I also didn’t reread this so it might be rushed and not make sense mb plus it’s short

A/n: send request for stories like these I like writing them.🙃 pick a specific character tho and I’ll tell you if I can do them or not (please send requests)

After a long day of school/work they come home and lay in bed they grab their pillow and began to speak. “hey y/n I had a good day today I almost got into a fight but I didn’t because I thought of you and how you wouldn’t want me to do that how you would want me to be the bigger person so I talked to them about it and I know you fight sometimes but you wouldn’t want me to risk everything by fighting so yeah how was your day??”  In their mind the pillow came to life forming your face and body into it. “I had a good day just chilled on your bed you know” you looked into the eyes of C/C and grabbed the side of their face. “I’m proud of you I’m so proud of you” you hugged them and then you laid on their chest they hugged back and you started to cuddle they you felt something hot and wet they were crying. “what’s wrong??” You asked and put their face into your hands. “I love you but your not real” their world of happiness collapsing with those words. Your.Not.Real you made them happy you made them better but you weren’t real. 

A/n:Hey I wrote this because I seen dd Osama confront n3on and I was proud of him and I thought of what it would be like if I had his comfort character or if I was any of my other comfort characters comfort character I seen a story similar that’s what this was based on so if you find that send me a link bc I really want to read it again they wrote it better than me 

[downins]

dating cindy berman headcanons (fem!reader)

note: i love and i miss cindy berman omg BRING HER BACK RIGHT NOW

warnings: fluff, makeouts, you and cindy being absolute sweethearts

you're definitely a nerd and a dork which lead cindy to develop feelings for you

she loves how you're so studious, goal-driven, good with kids and really funny

she's at your place most of the time, you both play video games, study, talk about getting out of shadyside when she's there. she gets really pouty whenever she has to go home after spending like a month at yours

she's clingy but not to the point it's annoying, she just loves having your company, you two enjoy each other's presence even when you're just minding your own business

she loves kissing you, this definitely leads to something else in the bedroom. anyways, she loves the little forehead and cheek kisses you give her

she's neutral when it comes to pda, she's fine with hand holding, kissing, hugging in public. in private, she's more touchy and more soft whenever it's just you and her

she's so comfortable around you, she literally falls asleep in like 5 to 10 minutes whenever you're cuddling with her. with ziggy and everything else going on in her life, she has her guard up most of the time

she vents to you a lot, sometimes things get really bad and she just breaks down infront of you. you don't even have to say much, she feels better by just you hugging her

she enjoys studying with you, whenever she doesn't understand certain stuff, she'd always come to you for help and you're always so patient with her, taking your time to explain things, making sure she understands, teaching her step by step

she loves leaving cute doodles on your book when you go for a toilet break or anything like that

whenever you both argue, she'd be so upset and would need some space to avoid making the situation worse. however, she'd still try and talk it out with you after feeling a little better because she loves you a lot and upsetting you is the last thing she wants to do

[cherriqa]

+.*i get those goosebumps every time*.+

SUMMARY: he just cant shake the feeling that somebody knows... let alone his own wife..

NICK GOODE (1994) X FEM! READER

MASTERLIST : HERE

AUTH NOTE: aahhhdgfgy first fic!! based on the song goosebumps by Travis Scott 😍😍😍😍 (update, it’s been like 5 months since i started writing this.. i’m so sorry 😭😭🫶🫶)

"hello?" you ask, twirling the landline phone cord between your index and middle finger. "shit, sorry hun.." you notice the voice instantly, its your husband Nick. "sorry forr..?" you trail off, now curious. "um.. ill be home late again." his voice is low and laced with slight malice. "oh." is all you manage to say. you turn to look back in the dining room. your children are sitting happily at the table, eating spaghetti bowls.

"are you upset?" he questions, slightly nervous. "no! its fine.. ill put your food in the fridge then.." you mumble into the speaker. he sighs before speaking again. "listen, i gotta go but ill be back when you wake up. promise." he tries to sound as cheery as possible, but you can see right through the act. "okay, bye! i love you." you murmur with a small smile as the line clicks.

something is up, you can tell. you set the phone down before heading into the dining room and picking up your husbands plate. your daughter looks up at you, her curly pigtails bouncing as she swings her legs off the chair. “mommy… where’s daddy..?” she asks, her voice laced with worry. “baby, he’s fine.. he’s just caught up with work again.” you manage a smile. she nods before going back to eating.

about 4 hours later, you hear the door open and the familiar leather shoe footsteps. your husband in all his glory walks into the living room. “well hi there..” Nick says with a small grin. he walks over to you, sitting beside you on the sofa. “how was work..?” you ask, resting your head on his shoulder. he shrugs, “boring, as per usual.” the way he says it makes you giggle. “you’re sweaty, my love.” you kiss his cheek, making him smile again.

“ouch.” he jokes, standing up again. “i’ll go have a shower then.” you nod and watch as he turns around. “and by the way, could you find me that book.. um.. the one about criminology!” he recalls, to which you respond with a small “yup!” before you too, stand up.

you hear him walk up the stairs as you reach the bookshelf. as you look around, you spot a small knob out of the corner of your eye. you try to ignore it, thinking your vision is just playing tricks on you again. that is, until a passing train nearby causes the knob to rattle. you quirk your eyebrow, setting the newly found book down on the coffee table before inspecting the round knob closer.

as you get a better look, you realise that it belongs to a trapdoor that you happen to have never noticed. ‘strange..’ you think to yourself before turning it slowly. you’d think it’d be locked, considering you’ve never noticed it in your 8 years of living in your house. but it isn’t. the door slowly creaks open and the light from inside the living room shines into the small space.

upon further inspection, you spot a few candles, all of which definitely had been lit within the last few hours considering the faint smell of candle smoke. but also another thing worth noting, the two large stones with writing etched into them. one’s been fully covered, the second having almost just been started. you can only read the last 3 lines of the second stone.

RUBY LANE

THOMAS SLATER

RYAN TORRES

you make a face, weird that the last three shady side killer names are etched into.. wait.

what..?

[samslvrgirl]

Upcoming fics i’m working on. Won’t have them posted till march since i’m moving :(

Beau and Danny’s fics are currently being worked on!

Thank you for putting in requests! I haven’t forgotten about them! ❤️

[phefics]

omg hi i love your scream fics but i was wondering if you could write #23 from the prompt list for simon from fear street?? he is sooo underrated <3

more than a one night stand

ship: simon kalivoda x gn!reader summary: “just once.” (x) warnings: reader gives a blowjob word count: 588

Just once, is what you had said.

You thought it was your last night on Earth, who could blame you? Dying a virgin would have been a total bummer. Simon had agreed, and so, you had lost your virginity to your best friend in a dirty school bathroom, not expecting to survive until sunrise.

And then you did. Simon did, too. And Kate, Sam, Deena, and Josh. Everyone lived.

And now, things were fucking awkward.

You kept finding excuses to not be alone with Simon, unwilling to talk about what had happened back at the school. You certainly weren’t ready to confront the wetness in your underwear when you walked by the same bathroom later that week.

You couldn't avoid it forever, though. You and Simon both weren't fans of vulnerability, but the friendship was just too valuable to lose.

It was a Sunday evening when Simon showed up at your house, dangling his car keys with a shy smile, his silent way of inviting you on a drive.

How could you say no to that face?

His car played Radiohead quietly as you climbed into the passenger's seat, and he drove the short distance to the local park you two liked to smoke at.

"So," he said.

"So," you replied.

It was tense. You hated tense. It was time to rip the goddamn bandaid off.

"We thought we were gonna die," you said. "But...I don't regret it."

"Me either," Simon replied, a look of relief washing over his face. "And I...I mean, I wouldn't mind...doing it again, sometime. If you know, you wanted to. If not, that's fine, I don't wanna push—"

You shut him up with a kiss, leaning over the car's center console to cup his face in your hands.

"No condoms," he breathed after a bit of making out, sensing where your mind was heading.

"Then let me help you out with this," you said, hand reaching to cup the bulge in his jeans.

His needy moan and full-body shiver were adorable. You knew he wasn't going to last long if you did it, but you didn't care. It was weirdly endearing that he lacked stamina.

You had never sucked a dick before, but you understood the concept. No teeth, breath through your nose, it'll taste salty. It couldn't be too complicated.

Simon leaned his seat back, hands clumsily making work of the button and zipper as you took a deep breath, watching as he pulled out his cock, wet with precum and clearly desperate.

You bent down and experimentally licked along his shaft, swirling your tongue around the tip, tasting his precum and being surprised at how not disgusting it tasted.

He wasn't huge, but he wasn't small, either. You had seen Simon's cock before that night, accidentally walking into the bathroom or changing in the same room. It was bigger, better, up close, in your mouth, inside of you.

You had barely put his whole cock in your mouth before he came, clearly embarrassed, but you just grinned at him.

"Where'd you learn how to do that? I thought I was your first," he said, a teasing tone of faux-betrayal.

"You were! I just winged it," you responsed.

He scoffed. "Well, you are already a master at your craft."

Simon smirked as he cupped your jaw, bringing you in for a kiss.

"Your turn," he whispered.

Fucking your best friend turned out to be the best decision of your life, and you were glad it would be more than just one time.

[totally-not-your-babe]

Thoughts and prayers Simon... Thoughts and prayers...

[count-horror-xx]

Somebody PLEASE 🙏 make x male reader fics about this fine man

I NEED to give him kisses 🙏 I NEED to make out with him in his cat suit 🙏‼️‼️‼️

[bumblebeeswrite]

Hi there! My name is Jace and welcome to my master list!

Here I will post links to all my work!

Below are the characters I write for:

JQ: Michael (Hoard), Tom Grant, Eddie Munson, Emperor Geta, Eric (AQPDO), Johnny Storm

Fred Hechinger: Daniel Markowitz, Emperor Caracalla, Simon Kalivoda, Quinn Mossbacher, Jason Hochberg (AHOAS)

Stranger Things characters

And others, just ask. My requests are almost always open! Feel free to flood the ask box!

FLUFF PROMPTS

MOODBOARD REQUESTS

ANGST PROMPTS

JOSEPH QUINN CHARACTER MASTERLIST

FRED HECHINGER CHARACTERS MASTERLIST

CORRODED COFFIN MASTERLIST

STRANGER THINGS MASTERLIST

[frogfaced-wheeler]

"history accurate lesbian cleradin au" if those two were in history accurate times theyd both be accused of witchcraft which has given me a new fic idea

[berman-goode]

Chapter nine is now up!