#how do people just go places and hear loud things and not die

[secondbeatsongs]

I genuinely don't know how people survive without earplugs

[churipu]

STRAIGHT TO VOICEMAIL 𓆝 ⋆｡𖦹°‧

ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. gojo satoru

ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. cursing, mentions of death, gojo being sad and angry, 2006 gojo geto shoko.

note. for some reason i feel angsty today and i just saw this prompt on pin, just had to write it lol.

gojo has never loathed himself more than when he missed your call — your very last call.

"i could've fuckin' saved them, suguru." gojo blankly stared at the ceiling, his head thrown back onto the couch's rest; he was conflicted, he didn't know what to do. it was as if his motoric abilities had just stopped all of a sudden.

"satoru . . ."

"i could've fuckin' saved y/n." the white haired male mumbled out, his face scrunching in frustration.

gojo has dealt with death. a lot. the concept of death isn't a stranger to him anymore, not in this world — and to think that he'd actually be alive to experience deaths of his loved ones, thinking he could have done so much more made him hate himself.

god, gojo hated crying in front of other people. the aura in the room was palpable. nobody spoke —nobody dared to speak— and the only sound resounding was the vague ticking belonging to the clock hanging on the wall.

"i could've fuckin' saved them," the male repeated for the third time, his voice breaking that he had to inhale sharply to stop himself from breaking down right there.

gojo pushed himself up, placing his palms above his eyes, pressing down on them harshly; he lets out a loud sigh, "where the fuck did it all go wrong?"

"y/n was killed in action . . ." god, gojo wanted to rip his hair out when yaga called him in privately to say that. the male had lost count of how many times the statement repeated in his mind.

frankly, it's haunting.

out of all the news he could have received today, he never expected to hear your death lulling into his eardrums. so soon. so many things swirling in his mind all at once that even he, deemed the strongest, felt the sensation of losing. he felt weak.

"hi, 'toru — you're probably busy since my call went straight to voice mail, but 'm just saying . . . i love you, and i miss you. so much." there was a slight pause and your breathing shallowed into the mic, every single detail in your last moments were graved in that file, "'m not sure if . . . i'll be back as soon as i promised, but, i just want you to know that whatever happens. happens."

there was a slight static before your soft voice recoiled back into the mic, "i've never broken any promises to you, but this might be the very first time — and just know that i've never wanted to do this, i fucking hate myself for this," your voice broke slightly, "'m bleeding. a lot. but 'm trying to stop it just like how ieiri taught me. and i think 'm doing shit at it . . . i don't know what happened, and how it happened; but 'm not doing okay."

"i don't want to die, 'toru." you whispered into the mic, hoarse and weak — feeling the life drain out, "i really don't want to die . . . i have so many things i want to do with you, and suguru, and ieiri . . ." you murmur out, inhaling sharply but it all ended up with you coughing out in pain.

"remember that time i said i wanted to open a pet hotel . . ? i don't know if you think i was joking, but i was really serious about opening one," you began to mumble out, all in random directions — none of your words make any sense anymore, and you could barely keep yourself awake.

"i don't want to die, please," you pleaded, desperate for life. no matter what you did at this point — the light inside of you was almost out, and you can't do anything about it, "fuck. i hate this. so much, 'toru."

"i want to see you again. i miss you. i miss you so so much," you softly murmur out, " . . . i love you. i love you so much, satoru."

and everything ended right after. including you.

gojo has never loathed himself more than when he missed your call. your. very. last. call.

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[askinkiskarma]

Okay imagine this. Neteyam and reader having a moment and get interrupted my tuk. Of course her being little doesn't know what she saw. Until its dinner time and she brings it up . Out loud ....infront of the entire clan.

i would actually die if this happened to me ngl

enjoy anonnie x

wc: 500 words

Na'vi words used: yawne - beloved, prrnen - baby, sa'nok - mother, tskmuke - sister

"Baby, you have to keep it down, people are going to hear you."

"Let them hear, yawne. What's wrong with everyone hearing how good you fuck me every night?"

Famous last words.

Suffice it to say you were mortified. It's not everyday your baby sister... or Neteyam's baby sister, in fact, but at this point, she might as well be yours... walks in on you... doing things... things that no child should ever see, things that no adult should ever have to explain to a child, things that were so beyond what you could reasonably justify. To be fair, though, the flap of the tent was closed, and it was the middle of the night, and you were making noises that pretty much every other human being over the age of like 15 would be able to gauge for what they were and keep a respectable distance. But Tuk... sweet Tuk, innocent Tuk, the-cutest-pie-to-ever-live Tuk, she was attracted by the noises that she thought were indicative of you being in pain. That, in addition to the fact she was rudely awoken by Lo'ak's incessant snores again and felt she would fare better sleeping in your tent, led to this horrifying moment of blind panic and haphazard movements, trying to untangle your limbs and cover your bodies in sheets and blankets.

"Are you alright?"

"Oh, my God, Tuk! What are you doing here, baby?"

"I thought you were hurt, you were screaming!"

Neteyam couldn't help the burst of laughter that escaped him, and neither could you help the scowl that you sent in his direction.

"Oh, baby. I'm alright, I just had a... cramp. Neteyam was on top of me because he was... helping me... massage the spot where it hurt."

The next morning, you forcefully placed a pack of nose strips that you stole from Norm in Lo'ak's hand.

"Here. Use them."

"Why?"

"Because your snoring will bring this family to its knees."

Lo'ak raised an eyebrow at your annoyed disposition.

"You don't even sleep in the same tent as us."

"Yes, but Tuk does. And she can't sleep because of you."

"Yes! I had to sleep in brother and sister's tent last night because of you, Lo'ak!"

You looked at Neteyam from the corner of your eye, praying that the conversation ends there.

"Oh, ma prrnen, did you sleep well at least?" Neytiri came close and knelt by her baby's side, patting her head affectionately.

"Not that well, sa'nok. I was worried for tsmuke since I didn't want another cramp to hurt her, she was in a lot of pain when I came in. But whatever Neteyam was doing on top of her seemed to help, so I thought I could help too if she had another cramp."

You groaned, feeling an actual cramp coming when all the heads in the room snapped in your direction, and as soon as Lo'ak and Jake started cackling and Kiri started making gagging noises, you knew you would never hear the end of this.

[rainylana]

“It’s just a cut.” Part two!

summary: part two of “it’s just a cut.” requested by @h-ness1944

warnings: physical abuse by readers mother, heavy description of injuries including dislocated jaw, broken nose and stomach wounds, so much angst, hospitals, vomiting, this is very much slow paced and mostly internal dialogue. let me know if you want part three! sorry for the cliffhanger, but i promise part three will be worth it! if you all want it!

You would look back on it as an adult and realize that it was the most peaceful moment of your life. The only time where you truly felt calm and free from anxiety. It happened just like it did in the movies. At least it did for you. And when each day would pass, you barely remembered it as the time went on. The only thing you could for sure remember was the outline of Eddie, or rather his foggy image in the corner of your eye. If you pressed your brain hard enough, you could almost remember hearing him, but you never knew what it was that he was saying.

The only thing you could really compare it to was being in the bathtub, slipping yourself underneath the water so all you could hear was the quiet roar of your own thoughts. You weren’t sure if you saw a bright light like people usually said they did, or if your guardian angel was helping you decide whether or not to stay on Earth. It all seemed very cliche, your experience, but that’s how it happened.

You remembered how heavy your body felt when they rolled you into the hospital on the gurney, the sound of wheels turning and creaking against the floor. It was like all of your senses were heightened. You could feel every bump and dip in the floor, the ding of the nearby elevator. Everyone was yelling at each other, but you couldn’t make out what they were saying.

Their figures were blurry, but Eddie was beside you. That much, you could make out, running with the gurney and being ignored by the emt’s and nurses. It was his curly black hair that gave him away, the white hellfire shirt that stuck out in your memory. You could remember how loud he was, and later on, you had realized he was crying, begging someone to tell him if you’d be okay.

You knew that something bad had happened, you just couldn’t remember what it was. You knew you were hurt. You couldn’t feel a thing, and you’d watched enough medical dramas to know that wasn’t a good thing. You had barely stirred, trying to move your arm that had lead you to squeal, your eyes fluttering open and closed. The feeling of something very warm was coming down your neck and with each step they all took, moved you faster and faster.

Then Eddie was gone. Everyone was gone and you were left alone in the dark.

•

Just when he thought he’d cried every tear in his body, more came. Every time he thought he was done throwing up, he’d rush to the bathroom. He was sitting outside the operating room. No patients were allowed to do so, but with how upset he was, the doctors couldn’t get him to move. Wayne had snuck back there eventually when he had arrived at the hospital.

The hallways were so dark, he had observed. Why weren’t there any damn lights on? He was sat on the floor, knees to his chest and back to the very uncomfortable wall. Tears fell down his face, cheeks swollen, red and stained with heart ache. He was visibly shaking, every nerve ending in his body completely fried.

You weren’t going to make it. He was sure of it. You were going to die and it was going to be his fault.

It had been three days since you had left his place. Neither of you had spoken since. He’d heard the sirens first, and he knew deep down that it was you and something was terribly wrong. Then he got the call from Hopper, confirming that very thought.

He didn’t know what happened. Nobody would tell him. He had demanded from everyone he laid eyes on, but not a word had come out. Not even the police officers had showed up, except for Hopper, who would periodically stop in to see if you’d made it through surgery. Not yet. 

Hopper wouldn’t tell him anything, either. Soon, he’d said. It’s messy, son.

Eddie’s brain had never been so loud. Every cell and nerve ending was working overtime, thought after thought was going through his wires, possible outcomes of the night. You would wake up and forgive him. Wake up and hate him. You wouldn’t make it thought.

There wasn’t anything he could feel more than guilt. He’d abandoned you like you were nothing. He had told you he would call to avoid you getting seriously injured, was too afraid of loosing you to go through with it, and now you were in the hospital.

Your jaw was dislocated, that was the first thing. Your nose was broken and your right arm. All of that could be fixed. It was, however, the multiple wounds in your stomach that was the problem. You had been pushed down the stairs, smacking your face on the bottom step, breaking your nose and messing up your jaw in the process, before falling through the window right in front of the stairwell. You hadn’t went complete through, your body halfway outside and halfway in, your stomach directly impacted by the broken, jagged shards of glass that was causing internal bleeding.

Your mom. He’d demanded to know where she was. I’ll kill her! I’ll fuckin’ kill her! He’d banged on Hopper’s chest, sobbing like a broken little boy before he’d nearly collapsed and fainted. Wayne had showed up right as it happened, picking him up off the floor and guiding him to a more secluded spot.

All of that lead to now. Eddie stared at the same spot on the wall for almost thirty minutes, after he had counted every crack in the wall. It had taken him almost two hours. That’s how long you had been in surgery.

The door creaked open to reveal Wayne, holding two paper cups of coffee. He sighed sadly to see his nephew in the same spot, face still heavy in guilt and heart ache. He placed the cup down beside him, settling down on the floor next to him.

Wayne felt just as guilty as Eddie. The old man looked to the doors, hoping to God that you’d pull through, not just for your own sake, your father’s or your friends, but for Eddie’s. The mer idea of him loosing you? He knew that would destroy him in a way that he could never recover from.

“Ed.” Wayne looked over to his boy, shoulders heavy from tears and legs now kicked out lazily, like they were no longer attacked to his body. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Wayne knew your mom was an alcoholic. He knew she said hurtful things to you. But he didn’t know that she physically hurt you. He had been shocked to get the call from Hopper, instructing him he needed to get to the hospital to get his nephew under control.

“She made me swear.” His voice was hoarse, dead quiet. He couldn’t decide if he was more angry or guilty. Angry at you for making him stay silent? Or guilty for staying silent the moment he was free to speak? “I..I didn’t want to loose her.” But you may loose her now. His eyes teared up, glossing over once again.

“She was afraid she’d get moved to another family. Somewhere far away.” He stared at the same spot, recalling the memories of you crying in his arms. “She wanted to stay with her mom.” The last word came out hateful, full of venom.

“You know you could have told me.” Wayne said gently, trying not to cause him anymore guilt. “I thought we had an understanding? You can tell me anything, Ed.”

“I know that.” He finally shut his eyes, squeezing his fist tightly. “I know, Wayne, but I couldn’t. I was too afraid of loosing her.” He scoffed humorlessly. “And the moment I decide I can’t do it anymore, I can’t keep it a secret, I can’t do that either. Now look at her. She’s gonna fuckin’ die on me and It’s gonna be my fault!” He flung a jeweled hand out, batting at the air as he sniffled, tears rolling down his face.

“Hey,” Wayne grabbed his shoulder. “She’s going to pull through this, Ed. Have faith in er’. She’ll make it.”

He fell apart. His face crinkled up and he covered his face with his hands, coiling over and letting out a deep sob that reverberated off the hospital walls. “This is all my fault.”

Wayne wrapped a protective arm around Eddie’s shoulder. “No it’s not, buddy. It’s no one’s fault.”

“I love her so much.” His voice was muffled, face hidden in the fabric of his jean covered knees that he brought up to his chest. “I’ve lost her, Wayne. No matter what happens I’ve lost her. She’ll never speak to me again.”

Your mom was in jail. For how long she’d be he didn’t know. What he did know was that it would be a very long time before she would be free again.

“Eddie,” The old man began. “I’ve watched you two together. You’ll make it through this. She loves you, boy. You’ll be okay and so will she.”

The ache in his stomach made him breathless, the pain in his heart made him dizzy. He closed his eyes and squeezed them shut, willing his pain to go away. He hoped Wayne was right. Because loosing you was just not an option.

“I can’t.” Eddie gasped, crawling off the floor. “I can’t. I’ve got- walk, I’ve gotta talk a walk.” He tripped on his own feet, spilling his cup off coffee and cursing. Wayne had tried to follow him, but he was bolting out the door and into a new hallway.

He was choking on his own breath, hand going to hold his stomach as he coughed. He’d surely be sick again. He tried to breath deeply, but the panic that built up in his chest made him lightheaded. Once his eyes on were on a nearby trashcan, he was running, grasping at the circling object and vomiting the contents of his stomach. He’d thrown up everything already, so he was left with painful dry heaves.

“God.” He cried once he was finished. He looked around, tearful eyed and broken.

He walked until he found the chapel, the cross above the sign that hung high. It was ironic, the fact he was praying. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d prayed. He was in the front seat, hands folded over and pressed to his forehead. He begged any God that would listen to him, pleading that you would wake up. You could hate him, you could love him, either way, as long as you were okay, he’d take it.

Please. Please.

“Eddie.” Wayne had found him, placing a hand on his shoulder. It took him a moment before he looked up, and Wayne felt his heart shake. The boy was broken completely. He looked so young, so hurt. With wet, round eyes and a puffy face, his bottom lip quivered and he whimpered like he was a little boy again. He reached for his uncles arm, dropping it from the lack of energy and sobbed softly. Wayne sat beside him, pulling him to hold him close to his chest. They hadn’t hugged like that in years.

•

Your eyes were so heavy you could barely lift them, fluttering them open as best at you could. The first thing you registered was the pain in your nose, the way your jaw and teeth ached. Actually, everything hurt. You felt like you’d been hit by a train twice. You couldn’t remember anything, only the hurt you were feeling. You slowly peeled your eyes open, adjusting to the bright light of the room.

You knew it was Eddie, even thought you weren’t able to focus your eyes. You groaned, body sluggish and groggy. You felt his hands on yours, fuzzy and tingly, like you were feeling him for the first time. You could hear him, his voice sounded cloudy like he was under water. You gulped, trying to move your head. He was letting go of you, running out of the room, only to return with a doctor moments later.

Slowly, things came into focus. First it was your vision. Everything became clear, the room, the doctor. Eddie. Then you could hear the heart monitor beeping quickly, the doctors asking if you could hear them. Eddie asking if you could hear him.

Quick relief turned to panic, because everything seemed to click. Doctors were looking at you, and doctors usually meant that you were in a hospital. You whimpered, flinching when a nurse tried to touch you. You tried to speak, but your voice came was dry and hoarse, your sudden movement causing a horrible pain to shoot through your stomach.

Then it got dizzy again, your panic overwhelming you. They voices got foggier, your vision clouded, and you were out just as quickly as you had woken.

•

You’d been in and out for days. Eddie was with you every time you woke up, but it was the same every time. You didn’t know where you were. You were so groggy and confused. It scared him, but he didn’t leave you. The doctors said it was normal from the amount of anesthesia you had taken in, and that sometime it took awhile to get out of one’s system.

He was holding your hand, head laying on the blanket that covered you. He hadn’t been home since the doctor told him you would pull through. When he got the news, he fell to the floor in pieces, sobbing and thanking the universe, god, or whoever was out there, for answering his prayers.

He didn’t know what you’d say to him. Would you hate him? Blame him for what happened? What about your mom? Would you want to bail her out of jail. There was no bail. She’d be in there for a long time. Her court date hadn’t been decided yet. He wondered if you’d go and stand beside her. He hoped to god you wouldn’t.

His friends brought him clothes and food. Gareth had said hospital food wasn’t fit to feed a starving man, clapping his shoulder and giving him a plastic grocery bag full of snacks and drinks. Steve had brought him deodorant and a tooth brush, smoothing over a piece of your hair and kissing your forehead when he stopped by. Dustin had come by and cried, not knowing how to handle or process the situation.

The time finally came when you were ready to awaken fully, a few hours later when he had went to use the bathroom. You remembered everything. Falling down the stairs, breaking your nose. It was covered in gauze, a bandage holding it all in place. Your jaw ached something terrible. You had looked down at your body, hands feeling yourself to make sure you were still intact. It hurt to cry, but you couldn’t stop.

Your mom. Where was she?

“Y/n.” Eddie gasped when he opened the door, nearly dropping to the floor in a dead faint. He ran to you. “Oh, god, baby girl.” He grabbed your hands.

“What happened!” You cried. You knew, yet you asked anyways. “Eddie- what happened? Where’s my mom?”

He held your arms, a tear falling down his face as he relished in the sound of your voice. “Shh, just calm down, baby. I’ll tell you everything.”

“Mom, mom- where’s mom?” You blubbered, shaking your head through tears. “Is she dead?”

“No.” He held your shoulders, hand going to cup your cheek. “No, honey, she’s not. She’s detained, right now, okay? You need to calm down, angel. You’ll rip your stitches.”

“Stitches?” You asked confused, trying to sit up. “Why do I have stitches?”

You didn’t remember going through the window. You must have passed out. Your reunion with Eddie, however, was short lived. Once the doctors knew you were up, the police were barging in your room. Eddie stood up straight, standing at your side. You flinched, and Hopper offered an apologetic smile.

“We need to ask you some questions, y/n.”

[banquetwriter]

Johnnie x reader and he’s just super loud during sex moaning and whining

୨୧ Deep moans ୨୧

pairing: Johnnie Guilbert ♡︎ fem!Reader

warnings: ୭̥⋆*｡ not edited we die like men, smut with heavy plot, panic attacks, sorta drunk smut, not safe sex, cum fingering lol, lowkey dom!r vibes

summary: ʚ Johnnies feelings for you cause him to freak out, luckily your there to calm him down •smut• ɞ

Words: 2805

An: HIIII YALLLL SOREY IRS A DAY LATE HHEEGE also this fic was inspired by the middle picture hehe

SUPPORT ME

Johnnie was scrolling away on his phone. Not doing anything useful at all. Just messing around on Twitter. He was supposed to go to a punk show with you tonight. Alone. Just the two of you. Jake being the supportive friend he was, tried and failed to set the two of you up.

You were pretty, and funny, and you made his heart race quicker whenever he was around you. Plus you smelled good. Which was a creepy thing to say but it was true. Tonight wasn't even supposed to be a not-date ‘date’. It was supposed to be you Scuff and him all hanging out at a show then maybe a bar after.

Lucky for him Scuff canceled last minute leaving the plans to the two of you. He assumed that meant the plans were off. He was mistaken.

You enthusiastically told him how much you wanted to go with him tonight. That didn't help his ever-growing feelings for you.

So there he sat on your couch awkwardly looking around as you finished getting ready. He could hear you walking around your room, your boots making enough noise to reach the living room.

“Ok ok, I'm ready,” you say, stepping out of your room. Fuck. You looked good as hell. He felt his cheeks heat up slightly looking at you quickly putting his phone away. “Took you long enough.” he joked, staring at you.

“Hey hush, it takes time for a girl to get pretty,” you murmur, flicking your hair back dramatically. “Oh, don't I know it.” Johnnie sarcastically flicked his dead hair back in the same dramatic fashion.

You both laugh at his joke. Your heart flutters watching his smile spread as he laughs. You quickly push your feelings down as you both sit in silence for a few seconds. Johnnie doesn't say anything just looking down avoiding eye contact of any kind.

“Ok let me call Uber,” you say quickly pulling your phone out. You type around and order the car looking at up Johnnie who is just sitting on his phone. “Hey don't look so bored,” you say putting your phone down.

He looks up from his phone with a small smile. “Sorry,” he mumbles, pushing his phone in his pocket. “I know we aren't going with a big group or anything but I promise I'm fun to be around,” you tell him walking up.

You were so close he could practically feel your breath. “I-I know that. I'm just like, anxiety blah,” he mumbles shrugging. He knows your ‘fun’. He was more worried about going to a show with lots of people.

That anxiety sat with him, in the Uber and all the way to the venue. It rested on his shoulder like a terrible angel as you both walked in after getting a stamp on your hands.

“I'm so excited Johnnie!” you squeal in his ear. It was loud and sorta hot at the place, which was to be expected. He just didn't know how to handle it.

He was already feeling anxious, but he was certain his heart was gonna leap out of his chest when you suddenly took his hand and led him to a good spot. Your hands were so soft. You went up behind someone who just didn't seem to want to get out of the way, Johnnie stood right behind you.

Your cold bracelets touching his hand were all too much input. Eventually whoever was in your way left and you found a spot upstairs next to the railing. “This is such a good spot!” you exclaim looking back at him. He looked down at you with a smile and, while still holding your hand, he looked out at the stage.

You were right, it was an amazing view. What he was more focused on was your hands still holding his hand. You pulled out your phone and let go. Johnnie feels ashamed at how much he misses holding your hand.

You pull up your camera app and hold it up to get both of you in it. “Here wait come closer,” you say, scooting back slightly. He furrows his brows slightly and rests his head on your shoulder for the picture.

You stick your tongue in the corner of your mouth and snap the picture. “Hehe thank you” you mumble uploading the photo to your Instagram story with a song from the band you were seeing.

You put your phone away as the show begins. Johnnie moves his body slightly watching you headbang to the music. He enjoyed metal music to a degree but he was mostly here for you.

As the night rolled on he had more and more fun as you forced him to dance. He smiled at you as you screamed for the new band that appeared on stage.

However, the beautiful bliss that the two of you existed in was shortly ruined as some people you knew from somewhere came up and said hi to you. Johnnie didn't know them and was subsequently left alone for a few minutes as you attempted to catch up with your friends.

He tried to focus on the band playing but he couldn't seem to as the anxiety creeped back into his throat. “Hey I'm gonna go get a drink at the bar if you want anything?” you yelled. “Yeah get me a Jack and Coke,” he yelled back.

Maybe if he got drunk this feeling would go away. He felt like he might throw up and die from the feeling that filled his bones. Some of your friends hung around the same spot as they waited for you.

Did they know you were with him? Were they judging him somehow? He was relieved when you appeared back about 10 minutes later with several drinks in your hand. “Ok, who got this freaky-looking blue one?” you ask.

One of your friends raises their hands and you step towards them, they take the drink from your arms as you look down. “Oh here is your Jack and Coke Johnnie,” you mumble, stepping towards him, he picks the drink up and immediately starts sipping it.

He doesn't have just one drink. He was surely gonna be hungover tomorrow. However, with the added alcohol, it was harder and harder to think rationally. He leaned against the railing feeling his heart breaking at your laugh with your friends.

He wishes he could be like that. He rubs his hands in the face. Cringing at how he feels. You were just his friend, someone who took enough pity on him to hang out. It felt like there were a million bees in his ears.

“Hey let's go ok?” your voice brought him out of his state. “What?” he asked, looking at you. “I called an Uber, let's go home ok? You don't look ok right now,” you yelled over the music. He could swear his heart stopped when you said those words.

He froze, not able to return to real life. “Come on.” you beckoned once again taking his hand and leading him out of the venue. You both get into the Uber, your hands not leaving one another.

In the same way, his eyes didn't leave you for more than a few seconds. He was so grateful for someone like you to be in his life. You made it back to your apartment, both of you drunkenly stumbling in.

“Sit down, I'll get you some water,” you said, making your way to the kitchen. He sat down taking the glass with a ‘thank you’. You say down next to him, moving your hand up to his face and adjusting his hair. He was certain he would burn a hole into you from how much he was staring.

You took the glass out of his hand and set it down. “What's wrong? You looked like you were gonna cry,” you asked him, your gaze full of nothing but worry. “I was just having a panic attack,” he told you, looking away.

You once again lifted your hand up and moved his cheek so he faced you. “Why? Did I do something wrong?” you ask. “No! No, you didn't I just-” he sighs, unsure of how to delicately tell you, that he was so in love with you he almost couldn't bear it.

That the thought of you with someone else was nearly enough to kill him. “Listen I need to tell you something, and before I tell you I want to tell you I'm so sorry. I don't want this to affect our friendship-” his mouth suddenly feels dry.

You don't say anything, you sit silently staring at him. “Mm fuck.” he mumbles burying his face in his hands slightly. You reach your hand out and pull his hands away from his face slightly, you scoot forward. You kept your hand on his eyes searching his.

This certainly wasn't helping. “I-I mmm fuck. I'm sorry. I've developed feelings for you, and I know that can ruin friendships, which is the last thing I want with you. I never meant for this to happen and I'm really sorry.” he braced for you to take your hand away.

But you didn't. You looked up at him. He couldn't tell what you were thinking. He was hoping you would say something, anything, to relieve an ounce of stress. But you said nothing, instead, you pulled him directly into a hug.

He reciprocates the contact, squeezing you close. “Did you seriously think I never liked you back?” you asked, pulling away from him. “Yeah,” he whispers, unable to get his voice much louder. “Sometimes you can be so dumb,” you mumble with a laugh.

“Sorry,” he says with a laugh looking at you. “Don't be. And I'm sorry you worried yourself sick over this, Johnnie since the moment I met you I knew I wanted to be with you. I wanted to tell you I just had to wait until I knew you felt the same.” you confessed.

Johnnie felt like a million pounds had been lifted off of his chest. “So what do we do from here?” he asked, looking at you. “I think there is only one thing we can do,” you whispered back to him. You closed the gap between the two of you. Your lips are crashing against his.

He feels his face heat up as you push his shoulders down slightly. He lays down on the couch as you start to crawl on top of him tasting the liquor on his breath. Your hips rest against his as your hands start to slide up his button-up.

You pull your lips apart for a second, you find his hands and guide him to your shirt. He gets the hunt and fumbles to lift it off your body. You aid him and it reveals your torso.

He stares slightly for a second seeing your tits spill out of your bra. You smirk at his staring, wasting no time unbuttoning the rest of his shirt. He shrugged his shirt off revealing all of his tattoos. His hands found your waist as you pulled him back into another kiss.

You used your hips to grind down on him, his boner resting nicely on your clit. Your pressure causes him to whine out. You pull away from him, moving your hands to unlock your bra.

“Take your pants off,” you instruct him. He is on his hands in an instant, you rip your bra off and sit up to take yours off as well. Johnnie's hands falter as he stares at your tits. “Don't get distracted.” you chastise. A grin spreads on his face as he feels blood rushing to his face and his dick.

You revel in his body, his tattoo-covered chest rising and falling. You lick your lips slightly as you walk back to where Johnnie is lying down on the couch. Your hand wraps around his jaw, lifting his head up and pulling him into a kiss.

Your other hand roams his body. He whines slightly into your mouth with the contact. His erection grew painfully with your attention.

His whining only increased as your lips moved to his neck, sucking and hitting on his skin. The marks left in your wake didn't leave for days after. Your delicate fingers slid up and down his torso.

“Mm fuck.” he whines wiggling his in anticipation. You notice his struggle and slide your hands all the way down to his bare hips. You pin him down slightly. That only encourages bucking. “You gotta hold still for me baby,” you mumble, bringing your hand down to his aching cock.

“Mhm,” he whines, nodding his head. “I can do that,” he whispered, watching your hand start to massage his hip bones. He sharply inhaled looking at your eyes as they darkened with desire. You turn and begin to straddle his lap.

He leans back on his elbows watching as you begin to place delicate kisses on the tip of his cock. He clenches his jaw in an attempt to hold back the moan that threatens to rip through his throat as you make your way down his cock.

His attempts fail as he lets out a high-pitched screech that he quickly attempts to conceal with his hand. “Oh that part is extra sensitive huh?” you coo batting your eyelashes before placing a lick up a vein.

“Jesus fuck you're going to kill me.” he whimpered. “Oh I don't plan on killing you sweet thing, but I'll get you close,” you whispered, against his neck. “Oh god,” he mutters as your hand slowly wraps around his aching cock.

His hands find their way to the dip of your back nearly drawing blood from his scratches. The combination of your grinding your cunt down on his side, your soft hand tightly fucking his cock, and your warm wet kiss spread out against your neck and chest he wasn't going to last long.

His cute little whimpers and moans only drove you further and further to your own end but you weren't going to get it simply from grinding your cunt against him. You let your ministrations stop pulling away from him. His worried eyes slowly grow excited as you reposition yourself above his cock.

You pumped it a few times before beginning to tease your clit and entrance with it. “Oh god.” he whimpered into the back of his hand as you teased his tip.

You decided to pity him and let yourself sink all the way down onto him. As you bottom out, we both gasped in sync. His hands found my waist as I slammed down on top of him. Unable to contain his sounds any longer, he let every pant, moan, and whine out.

Johnnie sounded like a bitch in heat as watched your delicious cunt swallow him whole. “Please don't stop holy fuck.” he mutters starting unable to see clearly as he feels the coil threatening to snap in his stomach. He tries to reach out and help you somehow.

You quickly swat his hands away, wishing to see his own pleasure rather than your own. His pretty whines and the faces he was making were worth it to hold off for a little longer.

And rewarded you were, with a particularly quick pump of your body let Johnnie finally unravel all the stress he had felt tonight. “Oh Jesus fuck.” his incoherent curse was lost in a sea of moans as he fucked himself into you shooting hot ropes of cum.

“Oh fuck oh my god,” he whined coming down from the high. You slow your pace to a stop watching him attempt to lift himself up. “Did you finish yet?” he asks, still panting.

“No, not yet.” you wander looking down at him. “Sit back,” he murmurs, gesturing towards the couch. You smirked but complied and sat down on the couch, Johnnie brought his fingers into your hair kissing you deeply. He brought his free hand down to yours and guided it to your clit.

You got the hint and started to pleasure yourself. He brought the still-free hand down and slipped a finger into your sopping cunt. After a second of pumping his finger in and out he slipped in two.

Your orgasim approached rapidly as it was your turn to moan. Johnnie swallowed every last one as he curled deep, hitting your g spot. “I'm gonna cum.” you warned as your legs shook.

Johnnie didn't stop his movements and let you cling to him as you rode out your organism. Your pretty moans felt like prayers to his ears. As you began to fall from your high he removed his fingers from you and placed a very loving and gentle kiss on the top of your head.

[luveline]

Hi I have a request for zombie Steve! I’d love to hear the story of how they met 🫶🏻

zombie!au —You rescue Steve at the start of the end of the world. fem, 2.4k

The sound of them makes your throat close up. Fear like a knife held too tight in unwilling hands, the heat. It’s the hottest summer Hawkins’ has had for years, and you’re overdressed. You couldn’t fit your favourite hoodie in your bag so you wore it but it doesn’t matter, you lost your bag somewhere in the school gymnasium. You’re lucky you didn’t lose your leg when that thing grabbed you. What were they calling them on the radio? Something starting with G.

Those… things, they can kill people. You saw it just ten minutes ago, your algebra teacher turned to a creature, Maisie Lewinsky from your homeroom stained with gore under her hands.

You press the back of your hand to your mouth to stifle a hot gasp. What are you supposed to do now? The Hawkins station said everyone would be waiting here, a repeat radio message, but by the time you heard it the sun was going down and there was nobody left. No cars, no promised convoy, nobody.

You’re the last living girl left in Hawkins.

You’re gonna die in here.

Terrified of breathing to loud but spooked that staying will seal your fate, you lift yourself up from the floor of the science lab to peer over a high table. There’s no signs of life. No signs of the dead, either. You’d thought this might be a good place to hide, the thick fire door unbreakable, but you can’t stay here. It’ll be dark soon.

You wish you had your stuff. They’ve for sure taken anything worth eating from the cafeteria kitchens and Bradley’s has been empty for days. You aren’t sure where your next meal is coming from. Fuck, you’re already dead—

“Fuck!” a voice echoes, boyish and terrified from somewhere outside of the door. “Fuck! Get the fuck away from me, holy shit!”

He sounds scared but firm at the same time. Your own fear is like the insufferable heat, riding the back of your neck as you creep toward the door. There’s gotta be more of them outside. That must be why whoever it is that’s shouting sounds so depeserate. But fuck, there’s relief too. There’s someone still here.

“Fuck! Jesus, help me!”

“Okay,” you say unsurely.

You wedge open the door to the science lab and poke your head out cautiously. There’s a dull thudding sound somewhere to the left, metallic screeching further down, but the panicked shouting (and now panicked yelping) is coming from outside.

You look around for a weapon. There’s nothing to take.

“Holy fuck I do not wanna die!”

Me neither, you think, sniffling back your worried tears. You don’t wanna die, you just want your bed. You want to be home, and safe, but there’s no one to look after you anymore, and you can’t just let people die ‘cos you’re scared. You run from the science lab to the fire escape door full pelt, arm in sudden hot pain at the collision, but the door gives and swings hard into the adjourning wall. You look around frantically for the source of the shouting as it bounces off of the exterior walls of the school and the stone floor of the courtyard, heart suddenly afloat in your chest.

“Hello?” you shout. “I’m here, I’m–”

“What the fuck!”

It’s said with such horrified anger that you give pause, even as your hands shake, cold sweat wetting your lip and colder in the rare afternoon breeze. You dart toward the shouting a moment later, and maybe you’re too late, you can’t save anybody, your shoes pinch as you race down the few concrete steps that lead to the parking lot.

Snarling curdles the air. Your neck snaps left, away from the cars and open territory and toward the subject of your nightmares these last few days. You’ve seen glimpses of these things, always too scared to stay and help, always too stupid, too weak, and seeing them now cements it.

A group of geeks grab at a boy where he hangs from the bars of a metal staircase leading up to the roof of the building. You run toward it on instinct but stop before they hear you, eyes wide. His hands are white-knuckled, his hair falling down into his face, but you know who it is now you’re close enough to see him. You could recognise Steve Harrington a thousand feet away.

“Hey!” you shout. “Hey! Over here!”

Why did you say that? Why are you yelling? The geeks turn their heads to easier pray and you’re done for —they start to run. You stumble back in terror.

“My bag! Get my bag, get the knife!” Steve shouts.

You swing yourself around in a huge circle. There, further into the lot, lies a bag. Further past it lies a wooden baseball bat spiked with fifty silver nails.

You sprint past the bag to the bat and try to grab it while you’re still running, knees grazing hot white fire on the tarmac and hands like acid as you force yourself up again, running further, putting space between you and the too fast footsteps that follow. When you’re sure you’ll have room you swing to see them, their maws dripping gore over white buttoned shirts and once prim blouses. There must be ten of them at least. Only two stay to snap their jaws at Steve Harrington where he attempts to climb up the stairs from the bottom, his foot dangerously close to bloodied teeth.

You pull the bat back as the first of the creatures reaches you. With a grunt more terror than exertion, you force the bat forward, wood arcing through the air, shiny nails catching the light of the setting sun and slamming downward into flesh.

Your eyes flare as wide as they’ve ever been. The geek stops cold and drops, your strangling grip on the bat forcing it up out of the mash of his brains. Another geek leaps over him as you scramble back.

“Run!” Steve yells from the stairs, stress stretching his voice thin and high. “Run away!”

You drop the bat and sprint for your life. Down into the parking lot, past a handful of locked cars and suitcases discarded. This must’ve been where everybody was before they left. There couldn’t have been room. Boxes and trophies, books, magazines and toys, all manner of possessions string like a breadcrumb trail down the road that you have to avoid. You run until your calves are burning over the road that will lead toward Hawkins middle, where you throw yourself into the woods, and hope without any real hope that they’re empty.

Grass folds under your feet. Your panting is as loud as your heart.

When the only shallow breathing you can hear is your own, you circle back to the High School, sticking to the shadows so as not to attract any more attention. A few geeks have collected to join the two you’d left behind, and for a second you’re sure Steve’s succumbed to fatigue and fallen into their blackened clutches, but you spot him balancing dangerously on a handrail between two sets of stairs, leg pulled back in preparation to kick any opposition away.

You sweep up the bat and try to make a plan. You were never going to be able to handle that many people before, not with their new mutations, but you can handle four. Maybe. Probably not.

“Steve, what do I do?” you call. “You have to tell me what to do.”

“You came back!” He swears and shimmies further up the railing as one of his attackers finally manages to traverse the blocked up staircase. “I don’t know what to do! Just hit at them until they die!”

It’s easy for him to say. They’re gruesome creatures, the faces of people you once knew but none of their humanity. They can run as fast as any person can. A human bite has alarming force behind it. The voice on the radio warned you that what you’re trying to do is a bad idea, and yet. You roll the bat in your hand. Your chest aches as hard as your dry throat.

The first geek goes down easy. Unsuspecting, you manage to whack it in the back of the head hard and break through soft skull. The second turns to see you just as you’re lifting the bat again, and it runs hard into it as it comes down, killing itself.

The third is where things get tricky.

“Fuck,” you mumble, lifting your bat to find a sloughing of cartilage and tissue stuck between the spines. “Oh, fuck,” you moan.

“Be careful!” Steve shouts.

You step back and trip, nearly falling. “Stay away from me!”

It snarls in response. Eyes clouded, the geek is a little slower than the others, and it follows you sluggishly away from Steve. The fourth remains, snapping, but you can’t keep watch.

“Stay away from me!” you warn again.

Steve swears on the railing, his cursing followed by a wet thunk.

The geek doesn’t listen, it bites.

You pull your arms to the side, hands wrapped tight around the base of the bat and ready to swing. With a huge, aching cry, you swing the bat to the side and knock the nails clean into its cheek.

It doesn’t die.

Fuck fuck fuck! You throw yourself to the floor by the geek’s feet and out of its reach, on knees, on your feet again, scrambling toward Steve’s bag. You glance over your shoulder as your knees slam down hard into the floor, never so scared in your life, horrified as the bat stays stuck between tendons and the geek takes a running jump toward you.

You pull the knife from Steve’s bag and hold it out in front of you, squeezing your eyes closed in terror.

“Fuck, hey!”

You scream as the weight of the geek lands on top of you. You scream like it’s taking bites of you, until your throat burns and there’s no sound left to make and you choke on it instead. A short, sharp sound.

Then the weight is pulled off of you. Someone lets out a massive gasp.

“Did it get you?”

You blink your eyes open against the glaring white sun where it meets the horizon. If you’re crying, it’s your business, water on your cheek and a dizzy hot feeling everywhere else.

Steve Harrington looks at you like you’re a ghost. “Did it get you? Are you okay?”

You look at your hand and the knife —his knife— where it rests on the tarmac. “I don’t think so. How do you know?”

“They bite! Did it bite you?”

“I don’t know.”

“How can you not know?”

“Because I’m not exactly uninjured, Steve!”

He frowns at you. Well, he glares. “You’d know if it bit you. Don’t be dense.”

“How am I supposed to know?”

“You’re telling me you don’t know what a bite feels like?”

“Some of us had homework.”

He wrinkles his nose. “Is that supposed to be funny?”

Well, yeah. It was supposed to be hilarious.

You look around the parking lot and the school courtyard for any outliers, but the school seems well and truly abandoned now. You can’t hear anymore huffing or screeching, no crying, not even the sound of a radio. Everyone’s been playing them nonstop for weeks, waiting for days like today. Suddenly the raptures here, and you aren’t part of the rescue.

But you saved Steve Harrington, at least. You’re accruing some good karma.

Steve doesn’t hold his hand out, he just grabs you under the arms and pulls you up into a standing position. You’re surprised he can do it, you aren’t light, but you remember his last skins game in the gymnasium and nod to yourself. Of course he can pick you up. Plus, you help, using your legs despite their stiffness to brace yourself on the ground.

“Doesn’t look like it bit you,” he says, quieter now, his hands sliding down to yours briefly before he stands back. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought this was the rendezvous point. I mean, it was, right? We missed it.”

“We missed it.”

“How’d you get here?” you ask.

“Bike. Car chose the worst possible time in the world to die. Not that I could’ve got gas.” He eyes you hopefully. “Tell me you drove here.”

“I biked too, but it’s gone.”

“Gone?”

“Tire popped.”

Steve rubs his eyebrows. His hands are clean where yours are caked. You stand unable to mask your heavy breathing now, and when you reach for him to steady yourself, he doesn’t move away.

“Sorry,” you mumble, licking your lips. You’re a map of little pains. “Are you okay?”

Steve’s hand reaches back to cover yours like he’s going to pull it off, though he doesn’t. “Are you alone?” he asks.

You wince. “Yeah.”

“Where’s your stuff?”

“I lost it.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know.” Your knees hurt. “It’s gonna get dark soon.”

It’s a question. You’re immediately thankful to have found him, because he’s a real living person, and you don’t think you can do this alone. You don’t mean to force him, but you need to know what he’s doing and soon.

“…Better come with me, then,” he says finally.

Steve walks out of your grasp, grabbing up his bag which you’d unfortunately ripped open and shoving the spilled contents back inside. He doesn’t stop to zip it closed, walking straight in the direction of the school.

“Where are we going?”

“Same place as everybody else.” You stumble. Steve, reluctant, frowning hard enough to etch a new wrinkle, holds out his hand to catch you by the elbow. “Where did you think?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” you say, half-indignant.

“You ask a lot of stupid questions, you know that?” He looks you up and down. “How’d you do that?” He points at your bleeding knees.

“I ask stupid questions?”

He grabs the bat from near the felled geek and stands tall. “Jesus. Let’s go find a car.”

It’s not as easy as his tone might suggest. You don’t find a car, you never do, and you never stop asking him obvious questions, but Steve says thank you for saving him eventually (nearly an entire year later, with a hand on your cheek).

[pasukiyo]

PERHAPS, PERHAPS, PERHAPS.

eric (a quiet place: day one) x f!reader word count: 2,894 warnings: a little bit of violence summary: perhaps it's chance. perhaps it's happenstance. but perhaps it is fate. perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.

 Hands find the sleeve of her sweater and she’s pulled backwards, her lips parting in a gasp as she turns. A woman, with dark hair beginning to fade into gray, locks her hands around her wrist, trembling. 

 “Please!” The woman shrieks. “I don’t know where to go! I need help! Please! Help me!”

 She’s frozen, her mouth opens and closes but nothing comes out because the truth is, she’s just as helpless. She wishes she could help, she really does, but she’s alone in a foreign city while the world around her falls apart and all she knows to do is run. 

 She tries to shake off the woman, but she only tightens her grip, and it’s not until she screams again that she lets go. It happens in a blur. One moment the woman is on her arm and the next she’s taken away by one of those things. She can’t even process what they look like because they move so fast. 

 She stumbles backwards as a car alarm sounds and she only just manages to duck in enough time to avoid being crushed as the airborne vehicle flies overhead, crashing into the building behind her. Her teeth catch her bottom lip and she whimpers, holding her head in either of her hands. Screams sound and die, wheels screech, vehicles crash, windows shatter, people are torn apart and it’s all just too loud. 

 She sinks to her knees in the middle of the chaos-ridden street and covers her ears, the hot water in her eyes falling fast down the apples of her cheeks. She feels utterly alone and only now does the weight of her family’s abrupt deaths begin to seep in, like poison injecting itself into her veins and wearing down her bones. 

 She wonders if this is it— if today is the day she dies. 

 She wonders if she should just stay here: on the ground, unmoving, waiting for death to take her. 

 It’s harder to breathe than ever now and she can’t calm herself down, can’t even focus on inhaling a steady breath. The ground quakes below and she thinks something explodes, but it’s hard to hear over the ringing in her ears. She only thinks to duck until she faces the ground as smoke pervades the air and ash falls and all she can see is gray. Her hearing is only just coming back to her when she hears a scream— whether it was her own or somebody else’s, she’s uncertain— but all she knows is in the next moment, everything is black. 

 The world is still black when she hears her name. She stirs and thinks it must be death calling upon her but then she hears her name again and it sounds… real. Still, she does not open her eyes, lingering in that state between waking and oblivion. 

 The voice calls her name again and suddenly it sounds… familiar. She’s heard it before but she’s unsure where. She must be dead, she thinks. 

 But is the afterlife supposed to feel so… real? As in, she feels the warmth of fabric above her and thinks it must be a blanket, the cushion of what she can only think can be a pillow beneath her head. She can feel her feet, so she moves them, and she can feel something soft underneath them, something her entire body can feel. It must be a mattress she sleeps on but how when only a moment ago, her knees were on the asphalt of a crumbling street?

 Her name is called again and this time, she feels a weight on her shoulder, a hand. It suddenly registers that she isn’t in the city at all but rather somewhere else entirely different and her eyelids snap open at the realization. A shadow looks over her and she pushes herself to sit upright, her throat tightening as she tries to blink the blurriness away from her vision.

 “Hey!” The voice calls again, the hand on her shoulder firmer. The silhouette before her warps and moves and it must be the source of the voice but her muscles remain taut with panic. “It’s me! It’s just me.”

 She tries to draw air into her lungs but it’s hard when she can hardly make out where she is and the hand falls from her shoulder to instead find her cheek, pulling her face towards the shadow. Her chest rises and falls with her breaths as she continues trying to make out the face of the shadow before her. 

 “It’s me!” The voice says again. “It’s Eric!”

 Eric. 

 The shape in front of her finally materializes and indeed, it is Eric. His brows are drawn in concern, his big, signature doe eyes round and searching hers. Her mouth feels dry and it opens and closes multiple times before he places his hand on her chest, right over her pounding heart. She glances down to his palm, watching as it rises and falls with her breaths before his other hand reaches for her chin. 

 Their eyes meet and for a moment, it’s like the world stills and it is only him she can see. His eyes are so dark a brown that they seem to merge with the sea of black in its midst and she thinks she will lose herself if she stares too long. His lips move to form the words “breathe” and “it’s over now, you’re safe” and it seems easier now that she’s rapt in his eyes, shining like dark topaz. 

 Her chin rises as she inhales and she focuses on his hand on her chest as her head dips with her exhale. Air floods her lungs and the world begins to turn again.

 “Okay?” Eric asks carefully, his hand no longer on her chest but still hovering above just in case. She takes another deep breath before she nods, sniffing. It’s only now set in that she was sleeping and she was living a nightmare, or rather, reliving her nightmare. 

 It’s been three months since day one, since the nightmares began and every day since has been long, some longer than others. Every day since the first sort of happened in a blur, but she remembers the day she met Eric like it was yesterday. 

 She remembers the boat, the boy with the cat who she’d just watched escape death before he swam to his new beginning. She remembers the conversations they had on the (what felt like at the time) seemingly never-ending boat ride, the vow they didn’t speak aloud but seemed to silently agree on that they’d stick together, and they did, even when they arrived on the island. She remembers it all and so she pulls the boy in front of her into her until she can rest her head on his shoulder, fingers clutching his white t-shirt. 

 His arms wrap around her middle and hold her close, his breath warm as it threads through her hair, seeping down to her scalp. Her nails burrow into his shirt, deep enough to snag skin underneath and her heart pounds against her ribcage, dread creeping up her spine at the realization that she doesn’t want to let go. When he inevitably begins to pull away, she sinks her nails into his shoulders like the claws of a cat and a crease forms between his brows. 

 “What is it?” He asks and she swallows, brows pinched together. “Will you stay with me?” She questions and his expression softens, nodding as he lets go of one of her shoulders to gesture with his thumb behind him. 

 “Yeah, you know I’ll always be right over there,” he says, referring to the small sofa bed across the room. He gives her bicep a reassuring squeeze and turns, moving to pull away again but she finds his hand, clasping it between hers as tight as she possibly can. 

  “No, I mean will you…” she pauses, sighing as blood bites her cheeks, filling them with color. “…will you lay with me?” She finishes quieter, his hand growing warm in hers. 

 He turns to face her again and when their eyes meet, silence strings between them. She swears she can see him connecting the dots until realization washes over him and finally, he understands. He blinks again, once down to the bed and once to the open space beside her. On his next blink, color floods his cheeks and he nods, lifting up the blanket to slide underneath it. Their legs touch for the briefest of moments and either of their breaths hitch. His skin lingers for a heartbeat before it’s gone and she has to take in another deep breath through her nostrils to quell her quaking heart. 

 They both settle themselves down on the mattress and it creaks beneath either of their weight. She holds her breath again, still under the guise that one of those things will come snatch her away at the smallest of sounds, but the reminder that they are on the island, that they are safe fills her with some solace. Even though the relief never stays long. The past always comes back to haunt her, as if some sort of evil spirit has made it its sole mission to taunt her. 

 “Hey,” Eric whispers and she turns, realizing he was looking at her. “Are you alright?”

 She nods, sniffing again. “Sorry, I’m just… thinking,” she replies, blinking back towards the ceiling. “I had another nightmare.” He sighs beside her and she hears the sheets shift a little as he adjusts his weight. “It’s okay. I get them too.”

 It’s easy to forget she’s not the only one who experienced the horrors of the invasion, that she isn’t the only one who lost things, people. She forgets she’s not the only one who is haunted by what transpired that day and she peers back over towards Eric. He stares up at the ceiling, his hands neatly folded on top of his stomach and his lips pursed. He taps his fingers against the back of his hands a little awkwardly, as if he wants to speak but isn’t sure what to say. So instead, he remains silent, waiting for the moment he succumbs to sleep. 

 “Tell me about England,” her voice fills that void between them and he almost flinches, snapping his head towards her, an incredulous look upon his face. “What?” He says as if he hadn’t heard her the first time. The corners of her lips twitch, “tell me about England,” she repeats. “I’ve always wanted to go. And well… it doesn’t look like I’ll be going any time soon.”

 He exhales and it almost mimics a laugh but it dies as soon as he rolls his head to face the ceiling once again. He stares into the darkness above, sifting through the memories he has of home. The truth is, it’s been so long since he’s been home, the memories are already beginning to fade away. His mother, his father, his little sister, their cat, his childhood home, the town he grew up in. The more days that pass, the farther away all those things seem. He can still see them toward the horizon but they’re fading behind shadows. He fears that soon enough, they’ll be nothing more than black shapes out in the distance, too far away to make sense of what they are. 

 For a moment, she wonders if he’s going to speak at all. Frodo purrs as he leaps onto the bed, curling into a ball at their feet. And then, Eric finally speaks. 

 “Growing up, I never thought where I grew up was small until I came to the States,” he begins. “Did you know that the entire population of New York City is over four times the population of Kent?” 

 Her lips curve into a tight, genuine grin and she shakes her head. “No,” she replies and he scoffs. “It’s crazy,” he mutters. “I’d never seen so many people in one place before in my life.”

 She laughs again and this time, her grin splits her face and when Eric turns, his gaze lingers. She stares back, finding his eyes even in the darkness. Even in the dark, she can see the way they soften in searching. Whether it is her or his memories he is searching, she is not sure. She grows warm at the sudden awareness of their closeness and she has to turn away again to ease the erratic beating of her heart, folding her hands just beneath it, sucking in a deep breath. 

 Eric clears his throat. Then he continues, “there was this bakery around the corner from my house. My sister and I practically kept that place afloat all on our own with how many times we went.” 

 She turns and watches his side profile as a soft smile curves his lips and she thinks to herself, how can she possibly look away? Neither one of them ever really talked about their life before the invasion much, but maybe they should’ve tried sooner, if he was going to look the way he does now. It’s the brightest she’s ever seen him, the fastest he’s ever talked. His eyes gleam at just the mere mention of home and she wants to know more, wants to learn more about him. 

 “Have you ever had focaccia?” He asks, turning to find she’s already staring and she raises a brow. 

 “Ever had what?” 

 His brow furrows and he looks almost offended, a hand on his chest in mock offense. “Do the Americans not feed you focaccia?” She laughs, shrugging. “I honestly have no idea what you’re even talking about,” she replies and he groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

 “It’s only, like, the finest bread in the world,” he says. “But the best is at the bakery near home. It’s the focaccia of all focaccia. Their focaccia beats all focaccia.”

 She chuckles, “I’ll have to take your word for it then.”

 “Well, anyway, my sister and I would get focaccia from that bakery everyday after school,” he blinks, brow dipping. “Except Wednesdays. They were always closed Wednesdays. I always hated Wednesdays because of it.”

 She cannot help it anymore so she laughs, her shoulders wracking with the sheer power of the action. She clasps a hand over her mouth to attempt to suppress any embarrassing chortles and Eric sputters, the mere beginning of his own laugh. 

 It’s something she can’t remember doing last: laughing. At least, genuinely laughed. It must’ve been before the first day but that day feels so long ago that she can’t place a finger on nearly anything before it. 

 So this feels good. It feels like things can be almost perfect, because even if this lighthearted feeling is only fleeting, in the moment, it feels right. It feels right to be here with Eric, laughing over a life that neither one of them will ever have again. Laughing even as the world crumbles around them. Laughing as they pretend that everything is okay, if only temporarily. 

 There are tears in her eyes now from how hard she’s laughing and she blinks them away, peering over at Eric through her watercolor vision. He’s still coming down from the high his laughter gave him when she reaches over, fingers finding his arm. 

 “Eric?”

 He hiccups with laughter, “yeah?”

 She sniffs and bites back another laugh. “Can I kiss you?”

 Maybe it's the spur of the moment. Maybe it’s just happenstance. Or maybe, just maybe, it was meant to be. 

 She doesn’t know. 

 But none of it matters right now. 

 Because his gaze drops to her lips and when he looks up, she finds he wants her just as much as she realizes she wants him too. 

 Eric says nothing, only reaches for her, his hand finding the back of her head to pull her in and her arms wrap around his neck and then their lips are one. They fit together in the perfect mold, as if it truly was just as she thought: meant to be. 

 Perhaps, Eric was who she was meant to find all along. End of the world or not, life— at least on Eric’s end, it was more chance on hers— brought them both to New York at the same time and she can’t help but wonder, as his tongue swirls her mouth, whether she would’ve found him anyways. 

 Perhaps they would’ve run into each other on the street. Perhaps, even on the subway. Maybe they would’ve walked into the same restaurant at the same time and locked eyes. Or maybe they would’ve gone to the same shops, the same hotel, perhaps, perhaps, perhaps. 

 An arm slithers around her waist and draws her into his chest and she knows that this is fate. It simply can’t not be. 

 She pulls away for a moment, just so either of them can catch their breaths, and their eyelids peel open and seemingly nothing else matters. There’s a sort of silent understanding between them— Eric must feel the same. 

 And that’s enough. It’s all she needs to be okay again, to want to live. 

 They crash into one another again, like two stars in a stellar collision. She burns brighter than she ever has before and they melt into one another and relish the notion that this is enough. 

a/n; saw a quiet place day one the other day and i think writing an eric fic was inevitable so... HERE YOU GO! i hope you all enjoy this one and let me know if you'd like for me to write up more eric fics! i'd love to explore this character some more :)

🤍 if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging or even leaving a reply to let me know! ✨

[doe-eyed-fool]

Lucifer X Reader oneshot where the reader snorts when she laughs. Like between bursts of giggles and cackles there’s a short or drawn snort that follows. And since there’s some peeps that hate fun, reader’s gotten comments about her loud ‘obnoxious’ laugh so she tries to keep a lid on her laughter. Maybe Luci notices that she tends to cover and muffle her laughter when he’s telling her a funny story or joke and he pulls out all the stops to get a laugh out of her. Maybe telling her an embarrassing story or tickling her and when he succeeds she’s so flustered but can’t stop and is just laughing and snorting while turning bright red.

Lovely

Lucifer x Reader

Warning(s): Slight Angst, Fluffy Ending

(Pst! I love your pfp btw! I hope you enjoy~)

Dating Lucifer couldn’t have been more easy. Lucifer had to be the kindest, loving, and sweetest demon in all of Hell. Which, considering he is the literal king of Hell, that was saying quite a bit.

You couldn’t have asked for a better partner. Lucifer was very attentive when it came to you. He always wanted to make sure you were happy. And how else to make someone happy, than to tell some funny terrible jokes?

However, you hated your laugh more than anything. And so did others, at least, the people you’ve met in the past did. Your friends now had never heard you laugh, like, truly laugh.

Sure, you’d giggle every now and then. But never really laugh. And for good reason.

But there was no hiding things from Lucifer.

“Hey sweetie?” Lucifer joins you on the couch, you look up from your phone. “Yes?” You hum. “What has webbed feet and fangs?” He asks. You furrow your brows in confusion. “Uh, what?”

“Count Duck-ula!” Lucifer exclaims as he holds up a vampire themed rubber duck. You blinked before a light chuckle leaves you. “Oh? You like that one?” Lucifer raises an eyebrow. “Then…”

“Where do suck ducks go?” Lucifer pauses. “The duck-tor!”

Turn away from Lucifer and making a shooing motion with your hand as your chuckle turned into a fit of giggles.

“Come on, you never let me hear your laugh.” Lucifer inches closer to you. “Don’t tell me I’ll have to force it out of you?” He says teasingly. “N-No!” You squeak. “It’s awful!”

“Awful? I doubt it. There’s nothing awful about you, my love.” Lucifer says, placing his hand on your shoulder gently. You couldn’t help but smile, but your grin dropped after a second.

His words were kind, but you knew better. Your laugh really was awful. It’s best he didn’t hear it at all.

“And I’ll prove it.”

Wait. What?

Out of nowhere, you felt Lucifer’s fingers at your sides. You yelped in surprise, before laughter followed. You tried to get away, but he kept his hold on you tight.

“Luci! Stop! Ahahaha! No! Sto-Hahaha!!!” Your laughter grew the more he tickled you. Then suddenly, a loud snort left you.

You went dead silent after Lucifer’s tickling came to a halt.

Damn it.

You couldn’t even bring yourself to look at him, as your face became heated. The silence between you two made you want to die.

Then. Lucifer spoke.

“That…was so adorable!”

You quickly turn your head to face him, giving him the most confused look. What did he just say?

“A-Adorable?” You repeat.

“Yes! And here I thought you couldn’t get any cuter!” Lucifer coos. You blinked, unable to comprehend what he was saying. There was no way he could find your laugh adorable.

“But…so many people get annoyed by it. It’s…it’s obnoxious, and loud. I snorted for fucks sake Luci!”

“And?”

And!? And???

“And! It’s terrible!”

Lucifer chuckles before pulling in close. “My love, when I said I love everything about you, I meant it. Including, your cute laugh.”

You felt your face heat up again. But not from embarrassment.

“Y-You mean that?”

“Of course I mean it.” Lucifer says as he kisses your temple. “Don’t hide your laugh from me again, please? It’s lovely.”

You smile warmly before snuggling into Lucifer further. “Thank you Luci.”

“Also. If I hear anyone saying your laugh is annoying or obnoxious, I’ll tear them apart.” Lucifer says with a happy grin.

You laugh before kissing his cheek. “Good to know.”

[cerise-on-top]

hello lovie! would it be possible to do a T141 with an american S/O? It always makes me giggle when i read them to see the culture differences! thank you lovie!!

Hey! Not gonna lie, I think all of them would almost get a heart attack from the culture shock! I know I do everytime I talk to my American friend! Also, I am neither British nor American, so I don't know a whole lot about either of those countries! I based this off of what my American friends have told me about the States!

TF141 with an American!Reader

Price: The moment you tell him about any of the human rights violations that are completely normal to you regarding your work he feels as though he’s going to die of a culture shock. What the hell do you mean you don’t get paid vacation??? He gets a whooping 28 days off, so why don’t you??? If you even get any days off in the first place. And then there’s the fact that you need to “earn” your sick days. What the hell??? What kind of shithole are the United States if you can’t even stay home when you’re sick??? I feel as though you could genuinely stun him into silence if you tell him those things like they’re the most normal thing in the world. He’s going to grow very concerned with you. Don’t you want to move in with him instead? Live in a new country that respects your rights as a human being at least somewhat? He will genuinely offer you to move in with him here and there, especially if you tell him some more concerning things. Theft at work? Just by picking up a pen from the ground? Really? The more you tell him about the States, the more he comes to resent that country.

Gaz: Oh, the two of you are gonna be arguing a lot. He’s well aware that there are quite a few regional differences with words, but Gaz is going to pretend he’s always right, even if he knows that there’s no right or wrong. Ghost is a leftenant, not a lieutenant. Those are chips and not fries. Love, that’s a bloody biscuit. He smirks at you every time he mentions his superior British English. Call him a colonizer and he’ll shut up, though. In fact, he’ll be super shocked. Seriously? You joke about that? He doesn’t make any jokes about 9/11 either, for example. It’s very surprising to hear how chill you actually are about 9/11, considering how much bad it brought with it. He doesn’t dare to make any jokes about it. He’ll call you Mr./Mx. Oppenheimer, though. He knows it’s disrespectful towards Japan, but if you have the audacity to call him a colonizer of all things, surely you can take a little joke. You gonna shoot the missiles, love? Gonna go to bloody Walmart and buy an AK-47?  He loves you, but man, if he doesn’t need to be there, he doesn’t want to go to the US either.

Ghost: You’re a very perplexing creature. Because??? How can one human being be this loud in public??? Are you not afraid of being judged??? Of getting bludgeoned to death because you looked at a YouTube Short in public??? Naturally, he’ll protect you, but man, you’re very daring. Besides, how can you just??? Walk up to people and talk to them like that??? You don’t know them and you weren’t forced to talk to them either?????? Sure, you’re friendly but?????? Are you not afraid of getting judged in public for your accent or dialect??? You’re an American in England, people are gonna mock you??? You seem to take it in stride, though. Good on you for that one, lovie. But are all Americans willing to be this social??? Do you just walk up to people all the time and talk to them??? Do you not mind your own business at all times??? Congratulations, you’ve confused this man beyond repair just by being American and being a little bit social. Also, how in the world are you this touchy? Just because his touch starvation kills him doesn’t mean he’s gonna do anything about it. And yet here you are, hugging someone you’ve met a few hours ago. What???????

Soap: For Soap, it’s the small things that confuse him. Like, do you just guesstimate how much you pay at the store? Bonnie, what the hell do you mean YOUR STORES DON’T INCLUDE TAXES IN THEIR PRICES?? Also, bonnie, you can actually rely on public transport here in the UK. It’s okay, you don’t have to be afraid of the double decker bus or the metro. Because why in the world do you need a car to get literally anywhere in the world??? Also, why do your housing estates look like that?? It’s all squares?? He’s never gonna let you live down how ugly it all looks. Besides, your houses can literally be blown away this easily as well. You should come live in Scotland with him. This is not a suggestion, by the way, as you will be living there with him eventually. He refuses to live in the US. He’s gonna show you how nice Scotland really is! In fact, he’s gonna give you your very own kilt as well! It’s very comfortable, you should know! This, in actuality, is a bribe to get you to forget about the US. Please, never mention them again. They’re the peace police, but no one likes them, bonnie!!!

[munsonsmixtapes]

Hi! Can I request a Tyler Owens fic based off of shut up and drive by Rihanna! I know it’s not a lot to work with so feel free to do whatever ☺️

I love writing songs fics!

Tyler Owens x fem!reader

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) fingering, oral (f receiving)

The house was super packed when you entered it, the amount of people and loud music overwhelming your senses. If you were being honest, you didn't even want to be there, but only gave in when your friends had begged you to. They pulled you into the kitchen where all of the drinks were and you gladly followed, wanting nothing more than to get a few drinks into your system to calm you down.

Kyra poured you a glass of white wine and you gratefully accepted it, downing it quicker than you should have. You held out your cup for more and she eyed you suspiciously as she poured more of the beverage into your cup. You thanked her and turned on your heel, looking for a place to sit.

As you got to the entrance of the kitchen, you ran into a hard chest, hearing a chuckle rumble from it. You looked up into the most beautiful green eyes you had ever seen, feeling yourself wanting to fall into the mossy color.

His hands moved to your waist to steady you and you could practically feel their warmth through your top that his gaze had moved to. It complimented your skin perfectly and hugged you in all of the right places, almost as if it was made specifically for you.

"I'm sorry," you apologized, feeling your cheeks warm under his gaze.

"Nothing to be sorry for," he shook his head. "Not from around here, are you? I think I would have recognized a pretty little thing like you.”

“And I think that’s a line. Gonna have to try a little harder to get my attention, cowboy.” You tried to push past him, but he blocked your path.

“How about a dance?” He asked as he rested his arm on the door frame. “Or maybe a drink?”

“No thanks,” you shook your head. “I already have a drink and I don’t dance.”

Tyler removed his arm from door frame and let you past, not able to help himself from looking at your ass as you moved into the living room. He wanted to know what it felt like, letting his mind drift off to a hot fantasy of the two of you.

He could just see himself sticking his hands into the back pockets of your jeans as he gave your ass a squeeze, swallowing your gasp with his lips. He wanted to know what they tasted like, your lip gloss giving them a pretty sheen.

Most women tried to play hard to get and he was always turned on by that. He didn’t just love to chase tornadoes, women were also very fun to run after. He followed you into the living room, feeling hypnotized by you. It was as if his feet had a mind of their own, carrying him through all of the bodies. He felt like a sailor being lured to his death by a siren. And that seemed like a damn good way to die.

He could see you still as you got further ahead of him, trying not to lose track of you. There was no way that he was letting you get away from him. Not that easily. He was going to take no for an answer, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t at least be near you.

You got to the center of the makeshift dance floor and the second your eyes locked on Tyler’s, he knew that he was a goner. Your eyes were locked on him as you began to dance much more sensually than you were used to. You didn’t know why you were wanting to show him what he couldn’t have.

He slowly weaved his way through the people keeping him from you and stood in front of you, resisting the urge to stand behind you as your bodies moved in tandem.

“Like what you see, cowboy?” You asked, a flirty look forming in your eyes. You had him exactly where you wanted him and you didn’t even have to do much. You thought it would have taken a bit more to reel him, but he had already grabbed onto the hook.

“Oh, I love what I see.” You grabbed hold of his hands and set them on your waist. You then turned around and pressed your ass to his crotch, grinding against it. His grip on your waist tightened, and you could have sworn that you could hear him moan.

"Just dancing," you said, looking over your shoulder. Tyler just nodded, moving his hands to your shoulders, turning you around to face him as a slower tempo song began to play.

"Then let's dance," he replied, his hands moving higher up your back. "You know, I never got your name."

"I don't know why you'd need that." You were perfectly fine with not sharing names. It added a bit of mystery to your interaction.

"Because I'd love to know the name of the prettiest girl in the room." That had to be the worst pick up line you had ever heard. You figured that he didn't have to try as hard because of his looks, but you really hoped that he didn't actually use that one on a regular basis.

"Gross, does that actually work for you?" You pulled away from him a bit, eyeing him suspiciously. If you were being honest, the whole cowboy thing was working for you even if you wouldn't admit it. Maybe he actually was charming or you just hadn't slept with anyone in so long that you were just desperate to get laid.

"Every time," he winked and all you could do was grimace.

"Tell me yours first."

"It's Tyler." Tyler. The name suited him.

"Y/n."

"Y/n," he repeated with a smile and you swore that your knees were going to give out between the mixture of his pretty mouth and the way your name fell off his lips. You could just imagine what he sounded like moaning your name and now you were getting a little too wet for your liking between your legs. "I like that."

"I like yours too."

"You're actually paying me a compliment?" He feigned shock with a dramatic gasp. "Well, I never thought I'd see the day."

Before you could stop yourself, you grabbed onto his belt loops and pulled him closer, Tyler letting out a yelp as you did so. You were suddenly finding him irresistible, your eyes shifting to his lips that he was running his tongue over, making you want him even more.

"Woah, darlin'," he chuckled. "Can't resist me, can you?"

"You got me. So are we going to do this or what?"

"Only if you want to. I don't want to force you into something that would make you uncomfortable."

"I'm not uncomfortable. I was just playing hard to get."

"You didn't have to do that," he said, inching his face closer to yours. "I've had my eyes on you all night."

"Well, now you're chance to have me. Don't blow it," you responded, closing the gap between the two of you, capturing his bottom lip between his two. You were close to moaning at the feeling, not having kissed anyone in far too long for your liking.

Your arms wrapped around waist as his went to your shoulder, tilting his head to the side so he could kiss you from another angle. Suddenly, you were the only ones there, so wrapped up in each other that it felt like everyone else had disappeared. 

Just as his tongue swiped along your bottom lip, you pulled away, noticing nothing else but his pretty green eyes, his pupils that had blown wide. You said nothing and removed your hands from his waist, offering him one of them that he took with no question. You led him through the crowd, making a beeline for the stairs. 

You weren’t looking at him, but he was trying to fight the smile on his face. He had barely done anything and now he was about to sleep with the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Maybe someone up there actually liked him. Just when he was about to go home, you showed up, a bright spotlight shining down on you. He was drawn to you immediately and the fact that you didn’t seem interested at first only made him want you more. 

You got up the stairs, on the hunt for an available room and found one, pulling Tyler into it. You let the door slam closed behind you before you pressed your lips to his again, this time more hungrily. He was quick to respond, matching your eagerness by dipping his tongue into your mouth. 

“I’ve been looking for someone who’s qualified. Do you think you are?”

“Absolutely,” he nodded enthusiastically.

“Good,” you responded then placed your lips on his once again.

You tasted so good that there was no way he could kiss anyone else. He could have just made out with you for the rest of the night and been satisfied. Your lips were soft and they tasted like a mixture of whatever flavor your lipgloss was and the white wine you had been sipping on. It was intoxicating and he couldn’t get enough of you, already wanting more like the greedy man he was. 

Your hands moved to his shirt and you began to unbutton his shirt as Tyler’s hand traveled south to your jeans. He got them undone in record speed and dipped his hand down into your panties, on the hunt for your pussy. He found it as soon as you got his shirt unbuttoned and his fingers found their way into your cunt, causing the most delicious moan to fall from your lips. 

“Already wet for me, hm?” He asked as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, his movements slow because he wanted you to beg for him. 

“And you’re already hard,” you replied, your eyes moving to his cock that was already tenting in his jeans. His movements suddenly got a little faster and you moaned again, turning your back to him, pressing it to his chest so he had more access to you. 

Your head leaned against his shoulder and Tyler turned to get a good view of your face, wondering what you would look like when he got inside you if you were already coming this undone just from his fingers. He just knew you’d look hot when you moaned and he was so right. In fact, you were even more hot than he had been imagining. Seeing your eyes shut tight and your mouth wide open as more moans fell from them was making him even harder. 

“Oh,” you moaned. “So good.” 

“Yeah? You like that?” He asked as he pumped even harder and faster, curving them, hitting just the right spot to make you scream.  

“Tyler, oh my god.” He pulled his fingers out and waited for you to come down from your orgasm before them to your mouth. You opened up and he stuck them inside, feeling his cock strain against his jeans as your lips wrapped around them, licking and sucking, making the most filthy sounds. 

He whimpered while he watched you, suddenly needing a taste for himself. And you seemed to think the same since you had removed his fingers from your mouth and were working on pulling off your jeans.

Once they were in a crumpled pile on the floor, you laid down on the bed, spreading your legs wide so Tyler could see just how wet your panties were. He got down onto his knees and slowly inched his hands towards your underwear. 

“Just do it,” you commanded. “Please.” He did as you asked and pulled down on the waistband, pulling them completely off to reveal your soaking wet cunt. Tyler could feel drool pooling in his mouth as he looked down at it, desperate for a taste.

He took each of your legs and draped them over his shoulders before diving in, not even bothering to warm you up since you both seemed so desperate. He then slowly inched his face closer to your cunt, giving you opportunity to back out if you wanted to. He then slowly pressed his face into it. You let out a gasp when his nose brushed it and your fingers wound into his hair as he mouthed your clit, sucking on the spot and feeling his dick getting hard as a whimper fell from your lips. He licked and sucked on the spot, taking his time, fully intending to give you the best head of your life. A moan escaped from your throat and you both paused, Buck pulling away to grin at you. 

“That’s it, darlin’,” he urged. “Just like that. You’re doing great.” He dove back in for more, wanting to taste more of you, but to also hear more of your delectable sounds. His mouth was back on your clit in a flash, licking and sucking some more, trying to not smile to himself as you continued to moan. He had you right where he wanted you and he had barely even done anything yet. He couldn’t wait to see how you would react once he was actually inside you. 

He moved lower, tonguing your slit, licking back and forth between the seam before going in with his lips, giving it a hard suck as his hands moved up to your thighs, spreading your legs wider to have more access to you. He then lightly grazed your cunt with his teeth and his ears perked up at your loud moan as your thighs pressed against his head as your ankles locked together at the back of his neck. 

Tyler continued his movements, loving how hard you were pulling onto his hair, knowing that you were enjoying it just as much as he was. You tasted so good and he loved how quickly he was able to make you come undone. He bet you looked so hot, so beautiful as the noises came from your mouth, wondering what you looked like when you orgasmed. He bet you looked so good with your mouth wide open, sweaty all over, your labored breathing. He couldn’t wait to see it. 

He shoved his tongue inside you and couldn’t help but notice how tight you were, but he wasn’t going to comment on it. He didn’t want to embarrass you and certainly didn’t feel like it mattered. He knew you hadn’t been intimate in a while and fully intended on making you feel so good, so special. 

He swirled his tongue around and was convinced that you were going to pull his hair out with how hard you were yanking it, but he hardly cared. You were reacting exactly how he wanted you to. His tongue hit just the right spot and your back arched in pleasure as a scream ripped through you. 

“Tyler, oh my god,” you screamed as you reached your orgasm, stars forming in your eyes, your vision going hazy. This was exactly what you had been expecting with your other partners. It was all you wanted and apparently it had been very simple since it hadn’t taken Tyler long to get you there. 

He slowly removed his face from your cunt then took off his shirt then moved to his jeans, taking his time to let you come down from your orgasm. You sat up, wanting to get a glimpse of his rock hard cock and it did not disappoint. It was probably the biggest one you had ever seen and you were wondering how it was even going to fit inside you. 

Once you were ready, he lowered himself down onto you, pressing his lip to yours in a slow, sloven kiss, wanting to savor the taste of you. He then pulled away to remove your shirt, tossing it behind him before peppering your chest in kisses. Once he was done, he moved his hands behind you and unclasped your bra before slowly removing the straps from your shoulders to reveal your tits. 

“You’re amazing,” he breathed. 

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you replied. “And as much as I love your compliments, I really need you inside me.” You knew you sounded needy, but considering the fact that you hadn’t slept with anyone in months, you really needed this and time was ticking.

“Yes ma’am,” he pretended to tip the brim of a hat towards you then climbed off of you, pulling a condom out of his wallet and rolling it onto his cock as quickly as possible. He then lined himself up with you before slowly inserting himself inside of you, both of you moaning at the sensation. Tyler then began to thrust in and out slowly, trying to figure out what you liked. 

“Faster,” you commanded. “If I don’t get there soon, I think I might explode.” Your voice was so whiny and full of need that Tyler was going to get you there as soon as possible, wondering how long you had been feeling that way and why you hadn’t told him sooner. 

His thrusts got so hard and fast that now he was fully pounding into you, trying his best to fit all of himself inside you and you seemed to enjoy it. Your moans got much more enthusiastic and he could see that you really weren’t lying. You always looked fucked out and he had barely even done anything to you. 

“That’s it,” he encouraged. “Look at you taking me so well. Doing so good darlin’.” He continued to pump in and out at his rapid rate and could see your back arching, a scream falling from your lips. Tyler was convinced that this was the hottest you’d ever looked (even though he had only met you that night) with your hair all a mess and the sweat dripping down your body. You were an absolute dream and this was definitely what he was going to think about every night before going to bed. 

He reached his own orgasm not long after then collapsed onto the bed next to you. Your chests were rising and falling because of your heavy breaths. Tyler then rolled off the bed and gathered the clothes from the floor, handing you yours which you put on. You really thought he would have wanted to go for another round. You were definitely down. Maybe he was just a one and done kind of guy. 

You watched him button up his shirt as you sat there with yours in your hands, trying to prolong your time with him. You didn’t want to leave just yet. He sent you a wink and finished up his shirt before coming over to you. He dropped to his knees in front of you and took your shirt before putting it over your head and helping you put your arms through the sleeves. 

“How about we go to my place?” He asked and you nodded enthusiastically. You got your jeans on and Tyler helped you to your feet, the both of you making a beeline to the stairs. You couldn’t believe that you thought he was going to ditch you. He had clearly shown you that he wasn’t like the others and he was fully intending on showing you just how much he wanted you once you got to his place. He was planning on having you between the sheets until the early morning, fucking you until you couldn’t walk. He was going to make you feel like an absolute queen.

[unluckywisher]

MY GRANDMA SOLD ME TO LOVE AND DEEPSPACE????

A/N: This is exactly what you think it is. 2013 called and they want their Wattpad fanfics back. Cringe and cheesy and stupid and OOC on purpose. Let's have fun and relive this beautiful era of the internet. I wrote this as fast as I could and without checking for mistakes, in the true fashion of these fics. Written in first person, and using 'y/n'. Xavier, Rafayel, Zayne, Sylus and Caleb are in a band called 'Love and Deepspace'.

Part 1?

I woke up after hearing some people talking downstairs, which was strange, because usually it's just me and my grandma, Josephine. Ugh, visitors?

I got out of bed and went to the bathroom. I was wearing a One Direction shirt and pajama pants, and honestly I didn't feel like changing, so I just threw my hair in a messy bun and went back to my room to check my phone before going downstairs.

Like always, I had no new messages. Not even from my best friend. Well, 'ex' best friend. Ever since we went to that Love and Deepspace concert she had been a bitch to me, all because one of the singers looked at me during the concert, which I didn't even want to go to in the first place, I went so she wouldn't be alone, that's why I took a book with me to read while they performed. But it just so happened that one of the boys on the stage saw me with the book and kinda looked at me and smiled, which made her really jealous.

Anyways, I'm not like other girls. They all like this new boyband, but not me. I like reading. The guy that looked at me wasn't even that hot or anything.

But back to the present, I headed downstairs, and...

"Y/n! Why are you still in your pajamas?" Scolded my grandma, who was surrounded by a bunch of guys. "We have visitors!"

The visitors nodded and waved a hand at me, smiling.

I looked at them, and realization slowly dawned on me. These were... These were the Love and Deepspace boys. What were they doing here!?

"Grandma, what's going on?" I frowned.

"We have no money left. Your grandpa, may his soul rest in peace, left us with a debt that I cannot continue paying. That is why I'm selling you to the town's mafia." She explained.

"Wh-wh-what?" I gasped, stumbling like I was about to faint. "M-m-mafia!? Is there no other way to solve this!? Can't I start working part time!?" I tried to find another solution.

"No, my little unicorn. Now, pack your bags, you're leaving right now." She turned back to the men and started lively talking to them.

My orbs looked down, tears starting to form, and I ran back to my room, slamming my door in anger. How could she do this to me? Didn't she love me?

I took all my things and put them in a suitcase, and everything conveniently fit inside as I closed the zipper with no problem.

There were so many things I didn't understand. First, what kinda shady business was my grandpa part of when he was alive? Second, had my grandma always been looking for ways to get rid of me? I mean, she kept making jokes about killing me over and over, but they were just that, jokes, right? Thirdly, the famous boyband LADS was apparently a mafia?

I let out a breath I didn't realize I had been holding as I walked downstairs again, still on my pajamas. I was too depressed to change my clothes.

"Ready, cutie?" Said the purple-haired guy with a wink.

I huffed, making him laugh.

"Someone's not in a good mood." Pointed out the black haired guy.

You think, smartass?

"She should be, a lot of girls would die to be in her shoes..." Said the brown haired guy, playfully.

I want to die alright.

"I'm sure she'll warm up to us." Said the white haired guy, smirking.

In your dreams.

"Well, for now, maybe we should get properly introduced." Concluded the ashy blond.

I didn't say any of what I was thinking out loud, but I wish I did. The last guy was right, though, because I actually didn't know their names, I hadn't bothered to ever learn them, not even when my ex best friend invited me to their concert.

One by one, they introduced themselves as Rafayel, Zayne, Caleb, Sylus and Xavier. Names I probably would forget later, since I didn't care about any of this, much less them.

"I'm Y/n." I said weakly. The events were taking a toll on me, and it showed on my voice.

"Well, introductions done, it's time to leave," said my grandma, pushing everyone out of the door with surprisingly strong arms, "have fun, Y/n. And you boys can transfer the money this afternoon, yes? Good. See ya!"

I couldn't believe her. How was she so unaffected by the fact that her only grandchild was being sold?

"Here," Caleb took my suitcase, "I'll carry it to the van."

How nice. Not. What kind of intentions did they have with me? I didn't trust them one bit.

"You know, a smile might do you good," said Rafayel, poking my face.

I swatted his hand away, and he made an exaggerated face of pain, moving away like I was some sort of vile creature.

"She comes from a poor family, do you think she has rabies?" He protested. I facepalmed.

"Don't worry, I'll do a medical check-up on her once we arrive," said Zayne calmly.

I wanted to sink to the ground and curl up to cry. How were these men treating me like this... So naturally?

Sylus opened the van door for me and I got in. Once everyone was seated, Zayne started driving. Away from my home... And into the unknown.

Should I do part 2 and lemons at some point?

Divider by @/cafekitsune

[letters-to-lgbt-kids]

My dear lgbt+ kids,

It's difficult to write anything about the safety of Pride events without either greatly downplaying or exaggerating the potential risks of attending.

This is, at least partly, an online issue: the internet is international but there’s no international standard of safety for lgbt+ people. Someone reading this blog may be from a country where Pride events are generally safe and counterprotests are uncommon (or at least stay small and nonviolent) - but it'd be grossly negligent of me to pretend that this is true for everyone everywhere.

On top of those differences by country or location, there’s also individual safety concerns. Some things may pose a potential risk to certain groups or individuals while other people are unlikely to be negatively affected by them. This includes factors like crowds, loud music, exposure to alcohol or drugs etc. but also factors like the risk of being seen by someone who knows you or the risk of racist or antisemitic attacks etc.

All this is to say: I will happily share some general advice on safety with you – but if you’re trying to make a personal decision regarding the safety of attending Pride (regardless of whether that is “Is it safe for me to attend an event at all?” or just “How can I prepare for an event, so it’s as comfortable and fun as possible for me?”), don’t rely solely on me… or on any one voice you hear online. They may be in a totally different situation than you and inadvertently give you a totally wrong picture of it!

Tip Number One actually ties in with everything I said above: do you have friends (or other trusted people) who have attended Pride in your area before? If so, they may be a more reliable source of advice than a stranger online! Maybe you could even ask them to come along? Having an experienced Pride-goer with you is one of the best ways to ensure a safe and comfortable experience.

Other tips and pieces of advice that may be helpful:

Look the location up before you arrive: Which public transport stations are nearby? Where would you go if you need to buy a quick snack? Are there public toilets available? Where’s the nearest hospital or emergency room? Also note your surroundings when you arrive: Where are the exits? Are there any easily recognizable spots you could look for if you get lost? Where will you meet up with your friends or group if you accidentally get separated from them? 

Make a plan beforehand and share it with at least one trusted person. Let them know where you are going, who you are going with, how you plan to get there and back home (public transit, your own car, your friend’s car etc.) and when you intend to be back home. Make sure to keep them updated on any changes in your plans and ask them to check in regularly. Also agree on what they should do if they haven’t heard from you at the agreed time.

If you go with a friend or a group, agree beforehand how you’ll handle potential scenarios: what if one person wants to go home and the other(s) want to stay? What if one of you gets separated from the other(s)? (Don’t rely solely on texting/calling each other in such cases (phones can unexpectedly die, get lost, get stolen, have no cell service etc.))

Pride events often take place in summer, so make sure to keep sun/heat safety in mind! Wear sunscreen, stay hydrated, don't overexhaust yourself in hot weather and read up on the symptoms of (and first aid for) heat exhaustion.

If you want to stay safe and alert, your best bet is to stay sober. Don’t drink alcohol or take drugs. (If you do plan to do either of these things, then please keep basic harm reduction measures in mind: don’t drink on an empty stomach, don’t mix alcohol and meds, have at least one person in your group who stays sober, don’t drink & drive etc.) 

Make sure to take everything with you that you may need, such as a water bottle, snacks, any necessary medications, face masks, first aid supplies, a portable charger for your phone, emergency contact info (written down in case your phone dies), sunscreen etc.

Learn your rights when it comes to getting stopped by police (Make sure that what you read up on is actually true for your country and is up to date).

Read up on safety precautions for chemical irritation if the use of pepper spray/tear gas is a concern in your area. Same goes for active shooter situations. It may be a worst case scenario but it’s better to read up beforehand if it’s something you worry about.

Don’t engage with counterprotesters. Even if they seem nonviolent, keep in mind that they may just be waiting for you to provoke them, so they can “justify” escalating to violence. Just keep your distance, don’t talk to them, don’t let them bait you into conversation. 

Lastly, you want to keep everyone else safe too, so: make sure you don’t accidentally out anyone. Pride is supposed to be a safe space. Don’t take pictures of strangers, don’t upload anything on social media that shows anyone’s face or name if you didn’t get explicit permission to do so. 

With all my love,

Your Tumblr Dad

[seichira]

door into your heart.

haitani ran has never had to fight for a girl’s attention. well, at least before you came along and changed the game. it is his first time trying to win someone’s heart, and he’s getting more desperate the longer you keep him on the ledge.

pairing : bonten!ran haitani x college!reader

content : mostly fluff, kinda angsty, swearing, mentions of violence, and basically ran just trying to get the girl.

ran thinks it’s absolutely insane that a girl has got him wrapped around her little fingers, and he knows it, he just willingly submits himself to it.

let’s start from where all the glitches in the universe as he calls them, started. meeting you.

you see, ran haitani is used to women throwing themselves at him. the man can get whatever and whoever he wants at a snap of a finger.

his childhood was rough and all he had was rindou—and he’s not a saint not to enjoy all of life’s perks now that he’s reached the top, isn’t he? admit it, he has been through enough shit to take it easy for once.

they started off ruling ropponggi, having a bunch of men do whatever they command. they lived off the glory of winning street fights and taking down gang leaders after gang leaders.

it was cool, alright. but looking back, that place seems to be just a playground compared to the chokehold they have on the entire country. japan is essentially theirs.

when a person is on top of the world, no words could possibly describe the feeling of being a king. ran haitani himself found himself at that position.

however, the thing about reaching the top is there is nowhere else to go. what follows after is boredom, ennui, and just… rotting away in the repetitiveness of the days. killing, manipulating, torturing, stealing.

he was getting sick of it.

at the height of his much-too-early midlife crisis that he believes came early because he is going to die earlier than everyone else, he flew back to tokyo in hopes that he can drown himself in alcohol at some bar that has no connections to bonten.

he hops out of his ferrari that he parked on the other side of the street adjacent to the local bar, and he is just about to cross it when he hears an exasperated grunt and a loud sound of metal nearby.

the first instinct was ignore it, but another grunt came and he finally snapped his head towards the direction of the disrupting noise in this peaceful part of town.

there, ran sees you struggling to pull the storefront rollup gate down. judging by the apron you seem to forget to remove, it is easy to deduce that you are a barista at the coffee shop you’re currently trying to close for the night.

being the brute that he is, ran keeps his distance from you and remains standing near his car, leisurely watching you struggle.

he chuckles to himself. that shit is cute, he thinks.

it is your first time having to work the closing shift and you had no idea how heavy these things were until you tried it. when all hope leaves you, you groan and sit on the pavement to wait for some energy to come back before trying again.

that is when ran haitani finally decides to spread out his imaginary angel wings and come to your rescue. he approaches you slowly and his footsteps make no sound at all, making you flinch in surprise when the gate suddenly closes and locks on where it is supposed to be.

you look up at the man who just saved you a ton of energy and time, and you stand up to face him. it takes you aback, though, with the way he towers over you. people can be this tall?

but if you were taken aback, the man in front of you is completely blown away. your hair is messy probably because you just finished a shift, you are wearing a simple polo shirt beneath your dirtied apron, paired with skinny jeans—and the man thinks, what a fucking beautiful woman.

this man has seen all kinds of women in the fanciest of outfits, and yet, here he is, totally mesmerized by an obviously exhausted girl trying to make money.

“phew. thank you! you totally rescued me because i was just about to run away and possibly get fired for leaving the coffee shop open overnight.”

he shrugs at your gratitude because he literally did nothing. the gate weighed like paper to him. not only is he not used to saying you’re welcome, he also does not really do much things to receive a thanks.

still, he says, “you’re welcome.”

“have a good night, mister!” you say to finally walk home since it’s a fifteen-minute walk from there.

you work two jobs to get yourself through university after deciding you won’t ever burden your parents anymore, so it is justified how you just want to lay down on your bed on a friday night.

ran finds it too much of a waste to let such a pretty girl go just like that, which is very uncharacteristic for him because he never does that when he knows there are others out there in his disposal.

but he can’t let you walk away.

“wait, miss.”

you turn back to look at him, “hm? yes?”

fuck, even her voice is cute.

“this… coffee shop. why’d you have to close it yourself? you don’t have security guards or something?”

you shake your head like it’s the most normal thing ever, “nope. the owner can’t afford something of that sort. the business is financially tight after the new coffee shop nearby opened.”

“which one?”

you state the name of the coffee shop that almost put you out of a job. thankfully, your boss liked your work ethics enough to keep you in their staff.

“thanks again, mister. i have to go home—”

ran scrambles his brain to find another excuse to keep you for longer. at this point, it is already unusual to him how you still haven’t asked his name. he cannot believe that he’s doing so much just to continue talking to you.

“you’re walking home?”

“yep! it’s good exercise, you know?” you giggle before pointing at the black ferrari just a few steps away. “i believe that’s yours?”

he nods. “looks sick, doesn’t it?”

“looks like someone’s got trust funds,” you joke. it earns a laugh from ran haitani, a man who hasn’t laughed in ages. holy shit, he utters in his head.

“not trust funds, honey. i don’t have a rich mommy and daddy. worked like hell to get that shit.”

your eyebrow raises, and you smile. “well, something must be very wrong with this life because i work like hell and i’m nowhere near affording that!”

it intrigues him, how you talk like you’ve got nothing on you but be lighthearted about it. when he had nothing, he was miserable. how could you smile like that? much more so, smile so beautifully?

“want me to drive you home? it’s dangerous in this part of town. don’t want you to go missin’ on me before you get to afford a ferrari.”

you are quick to turn him down with a flick of your hand, “oh, no thanks. i’m grateful for your help but who knows if you’re the dangerous part of town?”

he laughs again because you are absolutely right, but you have no idea that no harm will ever come close to you when you’re with him.

“you can call anyone and give them all my cards so they’ll know who took you home. safely.”

“i appreciate it, but really, it’s fine. there are some catcallers here and there but believe me, i can trashtalk them just as fine.”

his brows furrow at the thought. it makes him uncomfortable knowing you have to go through that, and you’re used to it.

“you sure?” he asks again but does not impose because he understands your doubts. it truly is hard to trust someone nowadays.

“i am.”

you walk home after waving goodbye to the tall, handsome, purple-haired man with a clean cut—ready to forget him.

with all the good intentions left in his heart, he waits a few seconds for you to be at a safe distance before he quietly follows you home. just to make sure you get there safely.

true enough, there are a few men loitering along the streets. when they call you names and shout lewd remarks, ran is just ready to intervene.

but you flip off the men and shout, “you filthy fucking pigs! this is why you lead such petty little lives without a wife to love you!”

once he sees you get inside the apartment complex, he shoves his hands in his pockets, approaches the men and gave them a few threats and injuries. afterwards, he walks back to his car.

you were right—this was good exercise.

ran abandons his earlier plans and heads home for the night. and if it isn’t clear, he thinks about you the entire drive home until his eyes drifts off to sleep.

that was how you met ran haitani.

the next events were just batshit crazy. the nearby coffee shop closed down and business was back as usual. your schedules were changed into something that will allow you to have some time to study and even rest. in the blink of an eye, as if something shifted, everything was suddenly convenient for you.

but behind the scenes is ran haitani.

alongside all of the crazy happenings in your life, ran haitani never leaves you alone. literally the next day after your first encounter, he shows up at the coffee shop you work at with an irritated look on his face.

“what’re you so grumpy for? where’s the smile you had on last night? didn’t expect to see you here, mister. would you like to order?”

“why did you arrive just now?” he looks at the nameplate you just clipped on your apron, and it wasn’t there last night. “y/n.”

“what do you mean?”

“been waiting for you here for two hours already, thought i’d come by and see if you were able to make it home alive last night.”

you stifled a laugh, “obviously, i did. and i only start here very late at night. it’s a part-time. i study in the good part of the day and i work a waitressing job at a pub, then this one.”

his eyes widen, and the one thing he immediately thinks of is how you do not have to do all that if he just gives you what he has. he has more than enough money to last lifetimes. giving you some wouldn’t hurt, right?

he is not even surprised when you turn that offer down. he’s disappointed, but he saw it coming.

after months of clinging to your side like a leech, the man is irrevocably in love with you. like down bad. like there-is-no-getting-out-of-this in love.

seriously, how could he not?

he sees you work so hard, so independently, and face so much shit the world throws at you and still have the will to be fucking smiling at him?

when he told you about his work, which took him about three months to finally confess to you, your answer was, “i stand corrected. that is good exercise.”

the man was BAFFLED. you accept it, just like that? no judgments? no shouting? no cursing? no condemning him for all of his sins?

you continued, “i know how hard this life is and i won’t blame people for doing what they have to do to survive. i’d rather not get involved with that, ran, so keep me away from it… but as for you, i don’t mind.”

you said all that but when he confessed his feelings for you the very first time, you turned him down. it was for a good reason—you had to graduate and earn a degree so you can finally have a good-paying job. being in a relationship with anyone is putting that at risk, and it was a risk you couldn’t take.

he understood.

the second time he confessed, after a year, he was at your new apartment that you purchased all on your own. it was small, but it was yours, so he loved it.

this time, he was sure that you loved him too. the problem is, you told him that you want him to court you first. until you give him your sweet yes, every interaction has to be friendly.

ran didn’t understand, but it was what you wanted, so he courted you in ways that he absolutely had no idea how, but had to try anyway.

“court me, and i’ll see if you deserve me.”

well, no shit. he has been courting you for a year now.

everything is slowly falling into place. your job is getting stable. your apartment is getting filled with more upgrades. you don’t have to live off cup noodles anymore (although ran made sure you lived well with all the help you accepted from him after he met you). the bills are paying themselves.

but you won’t give ran the time of day. you were such a tease. brushing your hands with his but never truly holding it. hugging his huge figure but never fully embracing him, except on your graduation when he was the only person who went to congratulate you. speaking with your lips close to his but never kissing him.

being with him but never telling him you love him.

but you are. you are in love with ran haitani. you are aware of the things he does for you, and they do not go unappreciated.

the flowers he casually gives you even without an occasion. visiting your place just to cook your meals when you are too lazy to feed yourself. taking care of you when you are sick and even when you aren’t. spending all his money on you albeit discreetly so you won’t scold him. quitting the vices you hated. being your personal driver. leaving important work behind when you need him.

basically being there.

being present.

being your person.

you finally decide that it is time to give in to what you want. to love him without inhibitions. life has been hard enough and it is about time to just… give in to all the things you were deprived of.

ran is an impatient man, and you think it should be humanity’s greatest feat that he was able to wait for you this long.

you know better than anyone that he can wait for as long as you need him to, but the wait ends now. you cannot wait anymore, and neither can he.

sitting inside the car, stopping at the basement parking, ran waits for you to step out first because you made it clear that while you two are just friends, he will never be allowed to open doors for you.

“ran?”

“yeah?”

you unbuckle your seatbelt to lean forward and kiss him on the lips. he freezes at first, and the thoughts wilding inside him screams, what the fuck?! is this really fucking happening?!

when he recovers just as you pull away, he pulls your nape and deepens the kiss. he pours out all the years he spent waiting to cross this line on this kiss.

and you return all of them.

he pulls away to rest his forehead on yours, “what’s the meaning of this? are you… what is… is this what i think this is, baby?”

you nod with tears on your eyes.

“you can open my door for me.”

[idoiatry]

Can I request an sbg x fem reader one-shot who has the powers of winter from aespa's new Supernova mv in the phantom world, but the drawback is that she gets sick and vomits blood + she has lucky girl syndrome (which means she's lucky asf)

SUPERNOVA...

what was it like when you first arrive?

♪ pairing: sbg kids/f!reader (fem pronouns)

♪ wc: 2,430

♪ notes: sorry if this took quite long! tried giving everyone in the gang equal treatment as well ^__^ scroll down for headcanons... not proofread... also cw for vomiting

WHEN YOU FIRST ENTER THE PHANTOM REALM – you'd awoken to taylor's screams. doors slamming open and footsteps resonating deep within the wooden floors of the place you were staying at. you shot up from your bed, groaning in confusion as you reached out to the window beside you. "weird," you noted to yourself, voice hoarse and heavy with sleep. red lights seeped through the gaps of the curtains. it pooled like blood and darkness, you'd begun to think, but then you quickly shook off your morbid imagination. you couldn't get this strange feeling off your mind that something was wrong. something was off. you rubbed the sleep out of your tired eyes, and soon that sleepiness was replaced by concern creeping up your spine. despite feeling lucid and detached from your body, you managed to make it out of your bed and into taylor and ashlyn's room. you hoped they just saw a spider, or something similar.

every step towards the room felt heavy, like you were forcing yourself to do dull machinations. strangely, you'd found a few of your classmates from the sorrel wood house convening by the door. taylor was huddled in tyler's arms, shaking as she struggled to recount what had happened. "so it wasn't a bug," aiden whispers to you when you make it to the room, grinning ear to ear as he gives you a once-over. you leaned on the doorway, the floors creaking as you do. his little attempts at lightening up the atmosphere made you feel slightly uneasier. not noticing the glare her brother sends over his shoulder, taylor starts talking again. her voice shook and her limbs trembled. "well- there's this, i don't know, but ash managed to kick it and knock it out-" the words die in her throat, and falters before they could reach her lips. logan hadn't even put his foot in the room when ashlyn abruptly puts her hands over her ears, which makes you all cast your glance behind her.

sure, you'd be fascinated by the blood night, but the person – no, thing – lunged at your group too fast for you to notice the crimson sky. all of a sudden, ashlyn is screaming for everyone to go, ben is pulling you by the arm, and everyone is scrambling on their feet get away from the creature. taylor is screaming, shouting, and god it is so loud, everyone is panicking and it was some wild teenager-monster cacophony. you don't know how ashlyn's able to hear something like this everyday and resist the temptation of sawing her ears off van gogh-style. your arm feels bruised, and as you're rubbing it to soothe it, ben shoots you an apologetic look. you pat him on the back, smiling as genuinely as you could. "if it weren't for you, i'd probably be mincemeat," you joke, "don't worry about it." the deck is small, cramped from having seven people squeezing around for safety. it was eerie, and cold, but the air seemed to stay still, as if it was frozen in time.

you'd think that being in the outdoor hallway, away from that thing, you'd be safe. a sudden thud on the door resounds through the atmosphere and ben runs over to grab the wiggling handle. aiden whistles, like some character in a horror movie you'd want to choke the life out of because of how sarcastic they'd be. "that could have been bad," he laughs, and it's almost mocking. tyler, being the hot-headed one of your group, unceremoniously chastises him. as he's scolding the blonde, however, another bang on the door makes you topple over the balcony's ledge. you fall.

you yelp, not able to grab on the half-walls (curse those tiny walls) of the balcony. everyone freezes, and your skin goes pale. logan shrieks and frantically tries to reach you in time, but you brace yourself before hitting the ground. you feel like you've been swept off your feet, but you don't know by what. you shut your eyes tight, praying to whatever god comes to mind, but the ground never comes to you. a gust of wind circles your body, twirling around you and wrapping around your body like a snake. it sends you hurtling across the sky, then allows you to catch your breath as you float around the building. aside from your surroundings turning darker, everything felt light. "what the hell," tyler is the first to speak, after seconds of silence. he's pointing at you, your body casually floating around in the air, and his eyes are wide in what looks like fear to taylor and astonishment to logan. "how is she doing that?"

his twin gasps, and she points downward. "guys, look," she whispers, like if she made a sound a little bit too loud, those things would jump on her. peering down they'd see more of those creatures. you covered your eyes, refusing to look at the ground. "help me!" you cry out, "what if those things could fly too?" your panic sends you flying higher, and even though you tucked your knees to your chest, you're frantically swerving all over the air. now you're shrieking, too. "better not push our luck," tyler says your name through gritted teeth as aiden takes over ben's place at the door. "inconvenient how these doors don't lock from the outside," he murmurs, with ashlyn deep in thought. "logan, ben, you two make sure she lands back here." she orders them, quick to direct, and they're quick on their feet.

ben, arguably the strongest out of your group, holds his arms out towards the edge of the balcony, hoping he'd be able to catch you when you fall. "stop panicking!" logan shouts at you, his voice carrying out through the wind whipping against your ears, "it's making it worse!" the gust of wind surrounding you whips his bangs over his forehead, nearly sending his glasses flying along with you. the air remains defiant as it tosses you around, akin to a child throwing toys far away from themselves. "if i could, i would have already, logan!" you bite back, not able to swallow down the sarcasm you'd been keeping under reigns. he's holding unto the railings, knuckles turning white and tense as ben scrambles around to catch you, making sure that you'll land in his arms. "maybe think of something funny? or cute? i don't know!" he screams back, voice cracking. this is the loudest you've heard him talk.

you take a tentative peek at them through your fingers, and ben resembles a firefighter waiting at the foot of a tall building. you felt like a cat on a tree, about to jump on a rescue cushion. the thought almost makes you laugh. almost immediately, it calms you down. just enough to let you clear your thoughts. logan whispers a thankful prayer under his breath when he sees your shoulders relax, shouting directions for you to be guided down to ben's arms. both you and logan let out a sigh of relief when you feel yourself dropping unto him. with grace, ben manages to carry you like a bride. he tilts his head, eyes wide with fear, and you can feel his heart thumping too fast from the adrenaline. or maybe that's your heartbeat, who cares anyway? you have more pressing matters to worry about!

you hop off his embrace as something rises to your throat, a warm, metallic taste filling your mouth. you swallow it back down for the meantime, feeling nauseous. ben wraps an arm around your shoulder, keeping you close to him. "they're going to climb the stairs," ashlyn frantically pulls at her sweatpants, and aiden throws out a comment about the boys' rooms being near them. logan, tyler, and taylor all take a head start. it would be difficult not to trip over each other's legs if you all were to run together, of course.

she managed to pull the strings off her's and aiden's bottoms, to which he doesn't retaliate. "need to make a break for it." she ties the strings to the pole and the door handle, looking directly at you. you nearly shy away from her sharp gaze, to hide into ben's chest, but she speaks before you can. "can you walk?" you nod, and she casts a furtive look at your body. your legs were trembling, still trying to get accustomed to the feeling of land again. she sighed, she can't have you forcing your body to go beyond its limits. too big of a risk. "we'll need to run," she hastily ties the knot on the door, "this won't hold." before you could say anything, ben scoops you and carries you again. not like you could wriggle out of his grasp anyways, and you weren't going to risk lagging behind.

as soon as she's able to secure the strings together, ashlyn is taking off and commanding the three of you to run. unfortunately for all of you, you don't get very far when the string snaps. "how is it that strong," you wail, and as if on cue, several more things climb up the stairs. aiden lags behind, ushering the rest of you in front of him. his eyes get caught on the bright yellow cleaning cart in front of him, swerving around it and grabbing a spray bottle filled with bleach. the monster opens its mouth in a silent scream, yet ashlyn covers her ears and winces. she groans and curses under her breath. stupidly, aiden's unarmed hand goes for its neck. it makes you scream at him to move away, and his ears perk up at you wailing his name. he presses his body against the wall while the phantom stands like a deer in the headlights in the middle of the narrow hallway.

you puff out your cheeks, eyebrows scrunched together in concentration. holding out a hand, you feel something stir inside your gut and you feel like you need to follow that instinct. your palm faces the dazed creature, and aiden looks on in amusement. "yikes," he tries to make himself less of a target, making sure he's out of your trajectory. ashlyn, curious, turns her head to see a flurry of wind circling your fingers and shooting towards the phantom. you huff, feeling your newfound powers take a toll on your body. the sound cracks like a whip, akin to a bullet ripping through the the wind. it pierces the place where the shadow's ribs would be, causing it to sway to the side. it topples over the ones running up the stairs like bowling pins. you don't have enough time to revel in your victories, however, as they start clambering to their feet.

the seconds it takes to run towards the room feel like hours, a dangerous dance where one misstep can cause you the whole performance. except the price to pay is your life - you don't give the metaphors any more thought as the door slams behind you and ben. you're holding unto him, wide-eyed and as bewildered as the phantom you shot earlier. you squint, feeling bile and the taste of iron threatening to spill from your lips again. you clasp a hand over your mouth, catching the attention of everyone else surrounding you. frantically, you tug on ben's sleeve, urging him to let you down.

in the next few seconds, you're hunched over the toilet. you don't know when taylor gets there, but you're all too aware of her palm rubbing circles on your back. her unoccupied hand tucks strands of hair behind your ears, and then she holds it up as you empty your body's contents into the bowl. above the sounds of you hurling, she's whispering words you can't make out. her tone was a mix of concern and encouragement, as far as you could tell. crimson waters swirl around as you flush the toilet, and you grimace. the faucet runs and taylor soaks a towel under it. "feeling better?" she helps you wash your face, wiping the blood away from your lips. "nauseous," you groan, but thankfully, no more bile climbs up your throat. an apologetic smile plays on face, "that was really cool." sweet taylor, always trying to find a way to ease your nerves.

as soon as you step out of the comfort room, aiden hounds you with questions you don't know the answers to. how did you do that? how high can you go? how long have you been able to do that? ben gestures for him to keep quiet, seeing your pale lips. tyler lets you sit next to him as you come to your senses. those are questions you'd have to figure out another time; for now, you'd get some rest.

── ୭˚. ᵎᵎ HEADCANONS:

⭑.ᐟ aiden thinks it's a really cool power and would sometimes ask you to let him fly on your back. you would control the wind around him and make him go up in the air with his body upside down.

⭑.ᐟ more often than not, it's taylor who helps you when you need to... regurgitate blood. it comes as a sort of instinct, after you use your abilities, she's immediately running towards you. she keeps a hair tie around her wrist at all times for times like those.

⭑.ᐟ ben, on the other hand, is always ready to catch you. his arms are outstretched, chasing after your floating form to catch you like he did the first time. he also carries you when your legs are too weak, and he becomes your favorite form of transport when your legs are adapting to the feeling of the ground again.

⭑.ᐟ logan helps you control the drawbacks, and he is your ground control. he also is intrigued by your ability to control wind. you two practice your aims together, whenever possible.

⭑.ᐟ tyler thinks you can be a bit of a menace. you like to mess with him, sometimes kicking up or messing with his hair. at first, he'd scowl and reprimand you. but then he'd find himself expecting another prank or two from you and aiden (optionally, taylor.)

⭑.ᐟ ashlyn is always looking out for your safety. she thinks of ways you can use your abilities to protect the gang, but she'd never force you to do anything you don't want to, lest you feel too much of a weapon and less of a friend. she appreciates when you use the wind to block out any harsh sounds, like when you're fighting some screeching phantoms.

© idoiatry 2024 – do not plagiarize, copy, modify, repost, or feed my work into ai. all writing belongs to me but characters are owned by their creators! please reblog if you liked it, thank you ^_^

[wekiamo]

still love you

first request!! hope you guys enjoy it (ik the title is so cliche im sorryy 😭)

part 2 here

warnings: spoilers for Scream VI, swearing, angst, fluff, mentions of getting stabbed and murdered, and i think thats all!

no, this can’t be happening. ethan landry? your fucking boyfriend? no, this had to be some sort of joke.

at least, that’s what you thought. but you knew well it wasn’t true, and you were just trying to convince yourself none of this was real. well, it didn’t work. you were still there, standing in front of all these killers you’ve been running away from.

you were still trying to process everything that was happening, when quinn steps forward your direction with her knife in her hand, and your brain just stops working correctly. you could be killed right there and right now. you certainly didn’t want to die, you still had so much to live - you wanted to travel the world, learn new languages, meet new people and even have an own family. and you wanted to experience it all with ethan. the guy you just found out to be a psycho killer, who was just trying to kill you this entire time. all of your moments together were fake? you felt the need to cry even harder than you were already. ethan, the guy who you loved the most in this world and you thought loved you back, did not want you or your love

he wanted your blood. he wanted to see you dead.

“oh poor [name], you’re not even what we want. there’s no need to be so scared of us this soon.” quinn said as she turned to sam and tara “it’s you two bitches we want”

“why? why are you all doing this? did we ever do something to you-” tara was cut off by quinn’s voice “yes you little whores you KILLED OUR BROTHER” she said, yelling at the two sisters.

“we don’t know who you guys are talking about, seriously!” tara said with a desperate voice and look in her eyes, while sam looked like she was processing their words slowly.

“is… richie… your brother?” sam asked, between pauses.

“yes, and it was you, sam. you were the one to kill him you fucking slut” quinn said kind of quiet, but loud enough for everyone to hear.

“now, we all know both of you girls love [name] like she’s your sister too. wouldn’t it be such a despairing thing to watch her be stabbed and killed right in front of you?” bailey asked, making ethan smirk “i don’t think we should do it right in front of them, dad. they shouldn’t even get to see it, only listen to her screaming miserably while she’s dying” the tall boy said, gaining everyone’s looks at him.

“nice one, ethan. wanna do the honours?” bailey asked the boy, who was smirking once again.”

“you better not fucking TOUCH her, you asshole” sam yelled. “you don’t get to yell at us, bitch” quinn, that was next to her and tara, threatened sam with the knife in front of her throat

“come over here” bailey ordered, and you not obeying him. “no, no i’m not going to.” you said crying, trying not to fall on your knees from the mental weakness you were experiencing.

“NOW.” ethan yelled in a rough tone. you stepped forward slowly scared for your life as you could perfectly listen to tara’s whines. “stupid slow whore” quinn said behind you as she pushed you hardly, making you stand in front of bailey and ethan.

were these your last moments?

you finally managed to say something: “ethan, i- how could you do this to me?”

“yeah, and how could you be so dumb?“ ethan laughed as bailey and quinn did too, you looking at each of them, with fear and disbelief in your face.

“well now i guess it’s time to say goodbye to your little friends” the boy said, grabbing you roughly by your wrist and pushing you in front of him, taking both of your hands and putting them together on your back as he grabbed your shoulders, guiding you somewhere.

“tara, sam, please, i don’t wanna die.”

you were now somewhere darker. you couldn’t really see what was happening inside the place, but you knew something: these were probably your last moments.

he took his hands off your shoulders and stopped guiding you, as you stopped walking too. he was now standing right in front of you.

“i loved you deeply, ethan. do you know how much i trusted you? or how many times i argued with my friends for defending you and your unexistent fucking innocence? of how many times i cried just by feeling guilty of being suspicious of you? i loved you and trusted you with my heart, ethan.”

“listen [name], i need you to scream” the boy said gently, making your brows furrow in confusion.

“what?”

“scream like you’re getting stabbed or something.”

“wait, you’re not going to kill me..?”

“don’t ask too many questions. just do it, quick before they come and check what we’re doing.”

you smiled and hugged him tight. you knew this could be some sort of trap but you still felt relieved that there was a chance of you getting out of here, and see all of your friends alive and happy again.

“okay i’m ready. 1, 2, 3-”

[razzle-n-dazzle]

Yandere Mammon. Do it (you don't have to if you don't want. I just saw you wanted mammon requests specifically and I felt called)

ᯓ★ "I LOVE you like an ALCOHOLIC" Yandere! Mammon / Reader | Drabble, (and some practice)

‗ content / trigger warning: GLORIFYING YANDERE/OBESSIVE BEHAVIOR, dark romance, toxic relationship, not proof read (we die like Adam). hurt/comfort, mammon scaring the reader, threats of physical abuse, MAMMON APOLOGIZING???

‗ author's note: ngl, Mammon is like the worst rest flag you can have but also why is the bastard so loveable? I want someone to explain that to me.

"MAYBE THERE WAS NO WAY OUT OF THIS; MAYBE THIS, WAS MEANT TO BE YOUR FATE."

"BABE!" Came the gruff voice, the loud voice, the ever so demanding voice that snarled your pet name as though it was the last thing it wanted to do; and you were sure that was the case, especially after he had to come case after you like this. Mammon was not much of a chaser for what was his, he simply expected it, you know that fact well; And now, with trembling hands covering your mouth as you tried to cover your sobs, hunched over in a corner of your bedroom trying to silence your sobbing, you thought you should have headed the warning. The warning to stay put, the warning to listen to him, to accept whatever he had to tell you. The warning to not go back to the lust ring. A foolish warning, you had thought first, but now knew why he was so stern on such a rule. He wanted to keep you from Ozzie, he wanted to keep you from Fizz, he wanted to keep you from the outside world if you weren't right by his side; If he couldn't monitor you and make sure you were "safe" and no one "dared tried to fuck you over". And sure those had been his words, the lies that he fed into your pretty brain once upon a time as his played with your hair, promising to always keep you safe. . . But you weren't so sure you could trust such words now.

You had only gone back home to speak with Ozzie, to catch up with him and share how your lives had been fairing since you left the Lust Ring. You had never told him why, granted, as he would have surely freaked out hearing that you left to be with Mammon of all people, and you were sure Fizzarolli would have hated your guts. So you had left under the guise of having met someone new, of testing the waters of living with them . . . and Ozzie had been happy with that response, though a bit uneasy upon your constant dancing around who your new lover could be. It's not like Ozzie would have burnt them to crisp, Fizz had joked, but you knew differently. Ozzie absolutely hated Mammon's guts after the clown pageants that Fizz was still recovering from. He would have scolded me relentlessly, though also in the end said he would be there if I ever needed anything if I was in trouble; Knowing how Mammon could get. You would have blown him off, saying Mammon was not that kind of person to you and it would be alright. That you loved him, that he loved you, and no it wasn't any sort of weird love potion or crystal and it wasn't forced. You had loved him, truly and fully and deeply and you still do. . . yet that love was slowly muddling with anxiety and hatred as you heard his spider legs tap against the floors of Ozzie's apartment, slyly getting closer to your bedroom. "Baabe," His 'a' was dragged out, his voice ever so sweeter, honeyed to convivence you to come out of the room without him having to use force. His hands pressed against the door, "I know you're in there sweetheart, just come on out and we can talk! I promise." Yet his words only caused you to shrink more into yourself, hiding your face away from the door on the most likely chance that Mammon would knock it down, forcing his way into your room. Into the one place that you still had felt safe in, safety which was now dwindling. My bedroom, well Ozzie's guest bedroom in the flat Fizz and him shared, was the one place you had thought to run too when Mammon hatched from his larva egg; Having grown in size and towered over you.

He had gotten upset as soon as he realized you had gone to the Lust Ring behind his back, accusing you of having cheated him and having cheated on him with Ozzie or even Fizz! Which was absurd, and you quickly tried to explain that Ozzie was simply like a brother to you and you would have never betrayed his trust by trying to get with him nor Fizz! You had simply gone had gone to catch up with Ozzie and Fizz and nothing more! You swore by it on your life, all while slowly shrinking away from Mammon in fear. Fear . . . Terror . . . Worry, Anxiety! You should never have to feel any of those things about Mammon, you should only feel secure around him and loved by him and likewise he should feel the same. Yet the way your heart pounded in your chest, the way your tears fell down your face, it was all too much and you knew this wasn't love. At least, it didn't feel like love but in a weird way it also did. He cared enough to come after you; He still stabbed any person who dared tried to get close to you; He just wanted to make sure you were okay! Right? Were you over reacting? Some part of you screamed no, shouting and pleading as the bangs on the door started to grow louder. You hadn't noticed them before they threatened to start breaking down the door, where their pounding brought nothing but a sickening feeling in your stomach that curled and churned and knotted inside you, wanting to be puked out and swallowed all the same. You help back a scream, hearing the last blow before the door was slammed open. It gave a devastating swing the wall, crashing against it and helplessly getting as stuck as you felt right now. Your breathing became ragged, your body trembled as your hesitated to look up and towards the crawling that was no other than Mammon, slithering his way towards you. Hide, Hit, Yell, Scream! But your body just froze as Mammon took a pause at the center of the room, and you weren't quiet sure why he did so yet you were too terrified to find out. You did your best to curl around yourself, to make yourself small and hide and hopefully avoid any sort of punishment that was to come from your small little mistake. Was it small? No it had to be a big one for Mammon to be acting like this, right? It's not like he's ever made you feel like this before, the rush of adrenaline you only get when faced with the possibility of death looming over you. Never. . . he's never. . . "Babe," Mammon's voice came out softer, less echoey and less demanding as it had been, though you still refused to look up. You barely heard the "shit" that Mammon had muttered from under his breath as he still stood in the center of the room, unsure what to do now that he finally got a good look of the state you were in. His top pair of hands subconsciously rubbed together, his right over the back side of his left palm; The actions he had taken replaying in his mind with a feeling of disgusting regret filling his stomach. This is now how he wanted this to go, not at all; He only wanted to give you a little scare, a small seed of terror, to show you how much he cared and yet . . . he caused this to happen. It was for the better no? . . . oh but he couldn't stand seeing you like this, in this state. You shouldn't be cowering away from him, no matter how fucking sexy it looked, you should be cowering away from others behind him! "Fuck, Babe I'm-" Mammon helplessly started once more as he extended his arms out, trying to gather some sort of explanation or reason or apology he could give to you. Yet his words fell flat, and everything he was going to say to you didn't feel right or it felt like some half-assed excuse or apology strung up by some lazy PR team just trying to sweep some incident under the rug like it had never happened. And Mammon was a bit lost on what do to. . . so then he did the only thing he could even fathom of doing to try and comfort you.

Slowly, evenly, he would make his way over to you, trying to make his footsteps rather loud and clear, yet paced and even to show you he was trying to think more rationally, more clearly. You still didn't look up and flinched at time from the steps. So then, he made it to you, and looked over your smaller figure next to his for a moment before he slowly sat down next to you. Silence; It was deafening to the ears. You were too afraid to speak. Mammon was too afraid of making the situation worse than it already was. What could he do in a situation like this? Pat your back?. . . actually that didn't sound like a half-bad idea, you always liked some sort of comfort through contact or PDA while around Mammon! And yet when he went to go do so, you only flinched away from him and drove yourself further against the wall, if that was even possible at this point, and Mammon lowered his hand back down with a frown.

Fuck you weren't ready yet for that. Okay! But he was sorry, he needed to show it to you and you couldn't be a whiney bitch about it either; He was trying to give this a shot! But then again wasn't there, like, boundaries he should respect?? This love thing was all too complex for Mammon, it hurt his brain trying to get everything right, and yet. . . it always felt rewarding whenever he had to by his side or sat upon his lap. It felt rewarding to even look in your direction and know he managed to snag someone like you, to get someone like you . . . someone so perfect . . . to love him back despite everything. It felt rewarding just to be in your presence, to be by you. It was an odd feeling that stirred Mammon's chest, it was an odd feeling he didn't know much about yet wanted to explore while he explored you. It was an odd feeling that delivered highs and lows that not even money could give him. It was an odd feeling only you can give him. . . And he hadn't realized he began to spew all this out to you; "-And that's why I got like, upset, Babe! I thought if you went back to the Lust Ring and feel in love with some fucking hot shot like Ozzie, or the fucking bastard ass clown Fizz, or some . . . GUY here that I would lose you!" He tried explaining the best he could, though his heart felt like it wanted to vomit. "I didn't want you going to some weird ass who could only give you half of what I can too! Babe, I'm fucking all you need and you're all I fucking need, and I didn't-. . . I shouldn't have-. . ." There was a pause in Mammon's words as his face scrunched, trying to find the correct way to phrase what he wanted to say. He barely noticed the fact that you had raised your face to look up at him, even if you were just peaking through your arms. "FUCK! I lost my train of thought." He would shout soon after, shaking his head as though he was disappointed in himself. So, instead, he would snake an arm around your waist and pull you upon his lap, even though he had felt you jump and jolt, trying to pull away from his touch.

And still, you sat ever so stiffly in his lap and yet. . . it felt right, for you both. It felt right for Mammon to have you on him, it felt like bliss, he was sure he could just jack off to this if he wasn't concerned about you! And . . . it oddly felt like home for you. Even still stiff and unsure about being this close to Mammon after what happened, you still leaned against him as you usually did. Fear and love, it was an odd combination that nestled itself into your heart whenever you now thought about Mammon. Yet, all the same, your heart and brain agreed he was home. "Babe, what I'm trying to fucking say is I'm s-" Mammon started, trying to apologize yet quickly felt sick to his stomach and gagged. The word felt so foreign and disgusting, he never had to 'apologize' before! And yet, when he glanced down at you and saw the small look of shock in your widened eyes, mixed with some sparkle of hope, he tried again . . . to only gag once more before he could choke out the sorry. And you were sure you both would be sitting here for eternity, and he would never be able to choke out a sorry. Even a pathetic one for your sake. It was just how Mammon was, for being the Sin of Greed he was ever so Prideful as well, and that always came at some sort of price. Yet, he was trying. . . that had to mean something, right? . . . it had to mean that he truly cared, somewhere deep inside that small heart of his, he cared; Truly cared. It was also amusing to watch him struggle. He never struggled often.

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