#this is about my real-life cross-the-street neighbor his car alarms go off every night I swear to god

[thicc-astronaut]

you guys don't understand. Cars need to have their burglar alarm go off for no reason directly across the street from you when you're trying to sleep. It's enrichment for them

[petri808]

Prompt- Marking/Monster fucker @bkdkkinktober Day 5

Izuku woke up with a start, hand clutching over the heart racing frantically in his chest to the darkness of a witch’s hour. The sheen of sweat coating his body glistened in the moonlight flowing over his bed, and his breathing raggedly trying to find normalcy in the pungent scent of sex still lingering in the air. But how if this was just a dream? A dream perhaps, yet the strongest since they’d started two weeks ago. The sticky dampness between his thighs indicating anything but fiction.

A slight breeze through the window sent shivers along Izuku’s body still sensitive to the touch… the touch— his touch… The red eyes and blonde shadow emblazoned behind his eyelids. Who was he? This thing, this person haunting his dreams and sending his body into realms of ecstasy night after night to leave him wanting and drained the next morning. He couldn’t wait to get back to bed after a long day of work, ready for more like a drug addict jonesing for their next hit.

“I want more…” Izuku whimpered into the silent room. Of strong hands dominating his toned frame, sharp nails… or were they claws? Regardless, the way they dug into his skin and controlled his hips forcing him to behave… Izuku reached into his boxers and began stroking his cock through this trip down memory lane. “Yes…” he whined, “more, I want more…” of heated bodies entwined, feeling so safe below that scarlet gaze, yet frozen by their stare— and the bites… he remembered the canines that sent his heart stuttering. Izuku paused mid-stroke to reach up to his nape. Yes, the tenderness was there again, but skin still unbroken.

To experience being filled and fucked by this gorgeous dream man. Damn, he’d do anything to make this real! Take him, mark him, a willing slave if it meant nights of endless bliss! “Please—” Izuku groaned. “Be real…”

Each night that passed by left Izuku craving more, and body left spent and tired the next morning. He didn’t know how dreams could cause so much exhaustion, but the intensity was definitely increasing. The logical part of his brain knew damn well this wasn’t good for him, too bad his lonely heart was winning the fight.

“Y-Yeah, I’m heading out right now sir— literally running out the door as we speak… Yes, Mr. Aizawa, I know it’s the second time this week I’ve been late, I… I need to get a new alarm, I think mines broken— oh… of course, sir, I’ll grab that on my way to the office for you.”

As he rushed out of his apartment, Izuku clicked off the phone, repeating his bosses order. “Double macchiato, add cinnamon, double macchiato add cinnamon, don’t forget— OOF!” The phone went flying out of Izuku’s hand as he smacked right into a solid object and bounced back, falling on his ass. “Oh, my goodness, I’m so sorr—” Izuku gasped.

“Tch. What a way to welcome your new neighbor.” The stranger held out a hand to help Izuku up. “Just be more careful next time.”

“R-Right,” Izuku stammered, “sorry, mister?”

“Katsuki Bakugou.”

“Mr. Bakugou, thank you— I-I mean sorry, again!” Izuku bowed before rushing away.

Blonde hair, red eyes… It couldn’t be! This was the first time he’d met his obviously solid flesh neighbor, so there was no way he could’ve dreamt up the beefcake! “Couldn’t be,” Izuku mumbled to himself. The man was very new, moved in maybe a week ago… ‘right around the time the dreams started escalating…’ He shook his head. Ridiculous. Those were dreams and this man was real— they couldn’t be linked. By the time he got to work, Izuku put the whole event out of his mind and focused on his job before he lost it.

A guy that hot was out of his league, so why not just live in his dreamworld?

“Ka…cchan…” The name wisps out from Izuku’s lips as clawed hands guided the sharp rocking of his hips, ground firmly over the man’s cock. “I can’t—” Izuku whined, legs trembling and starting to give out. “Please…” It was the first time of any of the dreams that the mystery lover had him doing the work.

But in the blink of an eye, Izuku found himself on his back once more, his lovers low grunts to his moans echoing as he was filled over and over in rapid succession. The man’s face stayed buried in the crook of his neck— till a cry rang out, Izuku’s own from fangs sunk deeply into his skin. Familiar, delicious white-hot ache flowing through his system, sending stars flashing beneath his eyelids, and red glowing eyes burning in his mind, filling his soul with a sense of wholeness his life was lacking.

“Mine…” the male growled, “forever…”

Forever…

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

“Ahhhh!” Izuku shot up in bed, drenched in the familiar sheen of sweat to the sound of a blaring alarm. “Fuck!” He groaned and dropped back down. Stupid alarm! But as amazing as these dreams were, they were seriously starting to drive him insane. His days were turning into endless cycles of unfulfilling work and fornication, work, and fornication— with a physical emptiness left in its wake.

As routine, he touched the painful spot on his neck expecting the same thing he’d endured for weeks— but this time, something wet and tacky hit his fingertips. “What the?”

Izuku scrambled to his bathroom, and there in the mirror— two fresh puncture wounds… a gasp broke free. “Oh, my god—”

That was the first time the dream blonde spoke to him. It’s deep raspy voice sending shivers through his body just thinking about it. But it was so embarrassing to walk into work with a large bandage on his neck to hide the wound! Lots of snickering and questions of who the lucky guy or girl must have been to mark him with a hickey. If only it had just been a hickey! All the other nights left the area tender for just a few minutes, and no evidence, but today the damn thing still throbbed. This was all becoming way too real for Izuku— and frankly, scared him a little. ‘Forever…’ The thought had even crossed his mind that someone was simply breaking in every night, but there was never any proof.

So, as he crawled into bed that Friday night, the throbbing spot on his neck a reminder, Izuku set his alarm to go off at 3am. If there was any truth to this nightly visitor, he was bound to catch him if could break free from the dream. This was it! He had to know what the hell was going on!

Izuku twisted in his bed, whimpering under the lustful gaze of his dream lover. “No, please…” he shivered as the long tongue teasingly flicked the tip of his over sensitized cock. His body was still coming down from a high that had left a sticky mess plastered all over his torso.

“Say it,” the husky voice demanded.

“Forever…” Izuku breathed out.

With a grunt, red eyes flashed, centered, and drove its cock all the way into Izuku. Growling, “forever mine,” as he leaned over to suckle the man’s mark with licks and tortured kisses. Each touch ignited the same soul-stealing connection that kept Izuku trapped and begging for more. Powerful hips rocked in measured cadence, filling the man over and over to finish what it’d started.

Izuku’s back arched and legs clamped around his lover’s waist, nails digging into the man’s shoulders as heat swirled and a familiar smoky scent grew in the room. He sensed his lover’s climax, could feel it coming like a sensor knowing a storm approached. Their connection… it felt so real… so good— different this time. Peaceful, no pain… “forever…” Izuku mewled as darkness overtook him.

The distant sounds of morning slowly crept into Izuku’s consciousness. Soft bird chirping, the muffled roar of cars on a nearby street. He moved to bury his face in his pillow to block the sunlight, shifting his body from its side to his stomach— only he couldn’t. Izuku’s eyes pop open as the awareness hit. He wasn’t alone. Without moving his head, his eyes looked down at what was around his waist and saw arms, hands— someone’s hands?! Wait! His alarm hadn’t gone off either!

He forced himself to shift so he could see who was spooned up behind him and found blonde hair. The neighbor?! Izuku screamed at the sleeping male. “What are you doing here?! How’d you get into my apartment?!”

“If you’re gonna wake up your mate, a good morning would’ve been nice.” Katsuki mumbled against Izuku’s back. “After all I’ve done for you.”

“Y-You? I, w-wait, the dreams, h-how?!”

“Shhh,” Katsuki clamped a hand over Izuku’s mouth. “Go back to sleep, talk when I’m up.”

“Maft?!” Izuku mumbled back.

“Forever, remember? I need more sleep, now shush.”

“I wilf nats sh— ahhh—”

A blinding white light hit Izuku’s mind again, followed with a dull ache in his neck as Katsuki’s mouth clamped over the mate mark on his neck. “Oh, my kami—”

“Now do you believe me?”

Izuku looked over again at Katsuki’s face and noticed the man’s eyes were glowing red and fang tips glinted from his mouth. “F-Forever?”

“Forever.”

It was all real, and yet somehow… maybe this wasn’t so bad after all...

[lovelikelex]

Be the church

Hello, neighbor. Today, I am here to talk with you about church. What is a church? What is faith to me?

I grew up in broken homes with broken hearts built on broken promises. I, for the longest time felt that I had little to no value because I had psychological issues and diagnoses that made me feel like the smallest person on earth. I found a little voice of doubt in the back of my mind every morning when I woke up. I looked in the mirror and hated myself simply for existing.

I went to Sunday School often with my mother. I sang at church and in church choir. I loved the peppermints that I would get for being quiet. I felt, sometimes, between the ages of 3-8 that my faith in God was the strongest it had ever been. I felt that the lord had loved me and nurtured me more than anyone in my life. I was never afraid to pray. I knew deep in my heart that Jesus was my best friend and I was never ever afraid to talk to him. In fact, I would write letters to Jesus and sometimes stick them in my mailbox waiting for him to respond back to me. I wondered to myself, what was heaven like? And even now at 20 years old, I wonder the same kinds of things. I think that truly the child-like wonder in me has never gone away and I pray that it never does.

My entire childhood, I tested those around me. I think I especially tested God just as much as he tested me. I would talk while the teacher was talking, I would stomp in big mud puddles when my grandmother told me “you’d better not get dirty!” And when my mother told me to come inside after dark, I ran down the street and chased the streetlights clear across the other side of town. I hated the word “no” and I had a real sense of adventure. I would think sometimes to myself “Jesus wouldn’t like me for doing this” - but I would do it anyway, regardless of the consequences. I didn’t care if I were spanked or grounded or had my favorite toys taken from me, it was always my way or the highway.

When puberty hit me, it was even worse. I would sneak out of the house and go to parties while my dad was asleep. I would turn off the alarms on his phone so that I wouldn’t have to get up for school. In 8th grade I was so truent that I had to move towns and schools so that I wouldn’t flunk the eighth grade. Still, testing god, and not looking to him for guidance. When I was 13, I realized who I truly was. I came out of the closet as a transgender boy. Facing ridicule from my dad, I didn’t look to god, I ran away from all of my problems. I hated the world. I hated myself. And I hated even God for making me - and especially for making me apart of the gay community.

You know, a lot of the times, we are so ashamed of ourselves that we think that Jesus is ashamed of us too. I felt like that. Did you ever feel like that? Like nothing you do ever feels right? Imagine feeling that way every single day. But guess what? Jesus knew that I would struggle. He knew that I would make some questionable decisions.. but he still chose the cross. Instead of running TO god, I was running FROM him.

These feelings of sadness and emptiness lasted for a long time. At the age of fifteen I hit rock bottom and even attempted to take my own life due to the issues that I was refusing to get help for... doctors and nurses were still searching for answers and I was still searching for god. Was god real? How could he be? What was his true testament of love for me?

I got back on the right track. I started acting and singing and dancing. I found my “people.” And they loved and supported me regardless of my orientation, identity, or mental illness. I started writing. I excelled in English. I was even selected for a prestigious summer performing arts program/scholarship. There, I met a boy named David who was a year younger than I was. He loved to play the piano. We grew closely very quick. He just understood me and I just adored him. I like to think of David as my “wingman” - someone who was always there to cheer me up or remind me of all of my amazing qualities. David was like my roadmap. I needed him and I think in some ways, David needed me.

A year after I felt I had gotten my life on track, David died. It still feels so strange to say those words. “David died” - it still feels like a cruel joke, but his heart was literally (and figuratively) too big for his body and he collapsed. I had a conversation with god the night that I found out david had passed. I told him that I was angry and hurt and not ready to heal. I asked “why me?” And more importantly “why david? Why someone so immensely talented?” And as I unapologetically cried, I asked god, out loud “I know that you can die from and enlarged heart, but can you possibly die from a broken one?” Can you imagine being so incredibly heartbroken that you, too, wished that god would take you away? I can.

After my best friend passed, still, I was testing god. Little by little and day by day, I grew more frustrated with the people around me. Every single person was my enemie. I would constantly talk and bicker and shout and cry about anyone who grew close to me. That was my TEST to them. I wanted, at that time, to be so toxic that no one would want to be my friend. I wanted to test those friends of mine to see if they would stick around through all of my trials and tribulations JUST like I had tested god. And guess what? It worked. It worked because I lost most people that I considered my best friends.

When I packed up and moved to Orlando, I felt something that I hadn’t felt in the longest time. I felt God’s love through the love of other people. I felt whole. I felt that even if I were broken in a million pieces that there were things and people that could glue me together. And they did. I am not ashamed to tell you that I found god without going to church. I asked you a question at the beginning of this blogpost. I asked you “what is a church?” And now that you have thought about your answer, I have mine: I think of a church as a single unit of people who spread God’s love and who teach us the ways of Jesus. A church is a place of worship. A church is a place where you can laugh. Or Cry. Or sing. A church is a place where you can be you - with God watching you. Churches can be for praising god, sure. But so can 2 AM car rides, or singing in the shower, coffee shops, the gym, conversations with friends and strangers. Don’t confine your faith to a building. We will never change the world simply by going to church. Instead, we need to be the church.

I hope that you can remember that you are so special, and that God love’s you so very much. I am so glad that he made you so that I could know you. Isn’t it wonderful that the same god that made oceans and valleys and Stars saw you and thought that you should exist too? I think that’s amazing.

Love, Lex.

[lost-n-stereo]

they’ll call our crimes a work of art

Part 1

There are miles upon miles of sun scorched earth between San Diego and the Texas border.

He downshifts, the engine purring as he speeds down the deserted highway. Desert passes them on both sides, wide open space as far as the eye can see and he knows with almost complete certainty that they are in the free and clear.

For now, at least.

“Woooo!”

Clarke bangs on the headliner next to him, her hair messy and wild from being trapped under a baseball cap all day. A black duffle bag rests at her feet and even though it’s zipped up tight he knows that inside contains the very thing that they need to survive.

Money. Lots and lots of fucking money.

Two point two million, to be exact. He feels a little like Robin Hood, robbing from the rich to give to the poor. Only in their case, they are the poor.

Well, he’s the poor because Clarke is what she calls “rich adjacent” meaning her family is rich so by association so is she. Ivy League, medical school, scholarships. These are all words that mean less than nothing to him, just a poor kid from the wrong side of San Diego, but to Clarke they meant confinement. Restrictions.

Basically the opposite of freedom.

Murphy looks over at her, a wide smile crossing her pretty face as she rests her bare feet on the dashboard of his Trans AM. It’s a piece of shit that his dad left him before he died but it’s fast as hell and got them away from California quicker than the bus.

It only hurts a little when he remembers that he has to ditch it as soon as they hit Arizona.

“I can’t believe we just did that,” Clarke says, popping her gum as she stares out at the passing scenery. “We are bad ass, baby!”

Murphy laughs, reaches over and rests his hand between her thighs. “You’re damn right we are.”

Clarke grins and reaches over to turn the radio up, rolls down her window and lets her hand make air waves as The Rolling Stones pump through the speakers.

Nothing is ever going to feel this good he thinks as they speed down the I-10. He hasn’t seen another car in miles and doesn’t expect they will anytime soon but they are going to have to stop for gas if he stays at this pace.

“Getting hungry?”

Clarke nods and turns down the music. “Let’s find a diner. One of those old school ones with the red vinyl seats and a jukebox at every table.”

“Kind of a tall order,” he chuckles. “But your wish is my command, Princess.”

If you would have told him a year ago, hell even six months ago, that he’d be pulling a Bonnie and Clyde with the richest girl from his high school he would have either laughed in your face or punched you in the face.

Probably the latter because he’s always been a bit of a shithead.

When he ran into her at a club downtown four months ago she was downright fucked, knocking back tequila shots with a girl named Raven he remembered from their high school.

“What’s eating you?” He asked when she literally bumped into him at the bar.

“No one,” she’d said with a snicker and her hand immediately went to her mouth. “Oh my god, forget I just said that.”

“Not a fucking chance.” He’d just laughed and wondered if she even remembered him. John Murphy, class asshole. Not much else to remember probably but he remembered her all the same. The way she dated both the jocks and the cheerleaders. The hottest girl in school although she cared more about her studies than clothes and makeup.

“How have you been, Murphy?”

To say he had been surprised would be a fucking understatement. In fact he’s pretty sure he actually choked a little on his Jack and Coke.

“I’ve been fine, Clarke. Yourself?”

“I got dumped,” she had lamented, her eyes rolling as if recalling whatever fucked up thing ended her relationship. “My girlfriend found herself a new girlfriend so here I am. Getting sloshed because apparently I have zero self control.”

“Oh, now I don’t know about that,” he’d laughed. “Remember that night in Finn Collins’ basement? We got matched up for seven minutes in heaven and I’m pretty sure you kneed me in the balls when I suggested you give me a little kiss.”

Clarke snorted so hard her hand shook and tequila came dangerously close to flying out of her shot glass. “If I remember correctly, you tried to stick your tongue down my throat and said ‘Hey baby, you know you want some of this.’”

“Sounds like me.”

If he was shocked as hell that she remembered him he was even more surprised when she reached her hand over, ran her pinkie finger up the inside seam of his jeans at his thigh.

“And what about now?”

He had licked his lips, let his gaze fall to the way her black dress clung tightly to her curves. “Now? Now I’d prefer if you begged me for it.”

Needless to say she blew off her friend and ended up back at his dingy apartment, her moans so loud they got the cops called on them.

Twice.

Thinking back on it now it’s kind of funny that they have been dodging cops since they first started this up.

“What are you thinking about over there?”

He smiles, tightens one hand on her leg and the other on the wheel. “Just thinking about when we first met.”

“When we were ten?”

“No,” he snorts. “I mean when this Murphy met this Clarke. Because face it, sweetheart. You are nothing like you were in high school.”

Her scowl actually turns him on. How fucked up is that? “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Relax,” he laughs, even though his mother once told him you should absolutely for no reason whatsoever tell a woman to relax or calm down. “I just meant high school Clarke wouldn’t be caught dead with high school me.”

“That’s not true,” she says, her voice taking on this raspy tone that goes straight to his dick. His heart beats faster when she leans over to rest her lips on the shell of his ear. “High school Clarke thought about you a lot, actually.”

“Oh yeah?” he croaks out, his throat drying up and he’s so hard for her he wouldn’t be surprised if he pulls over and takes her right here on the highway. “What about when you were with Finn?”

“Mhm.” She bites at his earlobe, sending shock waves through his body so intense he’s afraid they might crash.

“Lexa?”

“Yep.”

“Bellamy?”

She stiffens and he wants to kick his own ass for bringing him up. “We aren’t going to talk about him, remember.”

“Sorry, babe,” he says sincerely because he is. Bringing up the guy she almost married straight out of high school wasn’t his brightest idea but fuck if he can think straight when his dick is hard.  

He remembers their breakup their freshman year of college. Everyone though they’d end up together, married at twenty, first kid by twenty two. Mansion in the hills, two point five kids and a Golden Retriever. They were set in stone.

Until they weren’t.

Murphy didn’t go to college due to the fact that he had zero dollars to his name and did fuck all in high school. Instead he got a job right after graduation, and the fact that he graduated at all was enough to make his entire family proud. Or what little family he has left. He does remember the very public breakup since it happened at the restaurant he moonlighted as a bartender at to make some extra cash.

Bellamy gave Clarke a ring. Clarke said no. Bellamy stormed out.

It was a lot more dramatic than that but you get the gist.

“Can I just ask you one thing?”

He’s treading carefully because this is a subject they haven’t gotten into yet. She might shut him the fuck down but he’s at least going to try.

“You want to know why I said no.”

It’s not a question, just a solemn statement and that’s what he loves about this girl. She fucking knows him without him having to say a word.

“Yeah.”

Clarke sighs, her hand still making waves out the window but now he thinks she probably doesn’t even realize that she’s doing it. “My life has been planned for me since I was a little girl. Go to an Ivy League, become a doctor. Marry someone with my pedigree and have the perfect life that my parents have always wanted for me. But I didn’t want that, Murphy. I didn’t want to be some dumb girl that just lived her life the way everyone else wanted her to.”

He motions to the duffle bag resting on the floorboards. “And that’s going to help, right?”

“Yes,” she says seriously. “I want to be with you and yes, I’m sure there was another way than stealing millions of dollars from the Blake’s but this is how it had to be. Bellamy’s family is loaded, almost as much as mine. They won’t even miss it and you and I can get away. It’s better this way.”

There have been a lot of moments over the last few weeks when he thought that she would either bail or dime him out the first chance she got but damn if she proved him wrong.

The plan was simple, steal some cash from her ex’s family and leave town. The Blake’s are practically San Diego royalty, Bellamy Blake being the eldest son and a future Leader of America. Primed since birth to take over his mother’s real estate empire. Millions of cash sitting in barely locked safes, easy pickings for a criminal like him.

Clarke came up with the plan since she was still close with Bellamy’s younger sister Octavia. The Blake’s are vacationing in Belize, the house empty over the weekend since they require no staff when the family is out of the country. Clarke knew how to get in without setting off alarms, had the code to the safe hiding in the library and knew exactly how much to steal without anyone noticing for awhile.

They broke in wearing black clothes and baseball caps, her long blonde hair wrapped up and tucked in just in case any security footage caught them sneaking in and out of the house. The job took less than ten minutes, no alarms went off and they hauled ass to his car that they had parked a few streets down.

All they have to do is dump the Trans AM, no great loss there, in Arizona just in case any neighbors happened to be looking out the window when they drove away with a cool two mil in their car on the way out. He has a buddy in Texas that said he’d put them up for awhile until they figured out where they wanted to go.

It was fool proof and it worked like a charm.

What could possibly go wrong?

***

“If I eat anymore, you’re going to have to roll me out of here.”

­Murphy chuckles as he wipes his face with his napkin and throws it down on the table. “There might not be a jukebox on the table but at least you got your vinyl seats.”

She blows him a kiss before sucking on her milkshake straw and damn he can’t wait to get her in a hotel room tonight.

“Can you order us some extra food to go? I’m gonna go take a leak.”

Clarke scrunches up her nose in disgust and he smirks, drops a kiss to her temple as he’s passing her on the way to the restroom.

An old plasma television set is bolted in a corner of the kitchen, set to some local news channel, and he doesn’t pay attention to it until he hears a familiar name.

“Breaking news out of San Diego, CA. Aurora Blake, real estate mogul, has just filed a police report stating that over 2 million dollars was taken from a safe in her home today. The Blakes are currently on vacation out of the country but have understandably cut their vacation short in order to help police with their investigation. The only known suspects at this time are two individuals that broke into the Blake residence around 8 pm on Saturday night. The suspects were caught on the Blake’s security cameras but because their faces are not shown, it might prove impossible to use these videos to find them.”

Murphy’s heart drops, his eyes darting across the grainy photograph of him and Clarke sneaking through the Blake mansion, their faces completely hidden by the bills of their baseball caps.

He hurries over to where Clarke is talking to the waitress, drops three twenties on the table before pulling her up by her arm.

“Baby, we gotta go. Now.”