─── 𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖 !

"My own death does not frighten me. But yours? Oh, that is my greatest, deepest fear."

Perfume and Demonus filled your nostrils, expensive in equal measure. His arms held you tight but gentle; soft were his hums as his chin rested atop your head, nuzzling into you with a relaxed sigh. Longing he was. Melancholic in the face of his drunken state that you knew all too well, and yet... He still radiated that certain fragility he so desperately wished to hide, failing only when it came to you.

"Lucifer...", a low mumble to his chest. He didn't move.

"Just a moment." He whispered. "Just a moment..."

---

Izuku punishes you for talking poorly about yourself,,

as someone who’s dealt with insecurity and low self esteem for most of his life, he’d definitely take your words personally, regardless of how you meant it. His love feeling like that? On his watch??? His hero complex wouldn’t allow him to not try and handle it himself.

‘N the lesson doesn’t entail spankings or hitting, no....just orgasms

PLURAL

That man would overstim tf out of you no matter how much you apologize because “don’t apologize to me, say sorry to her” as he points to a mirror overlooking the two of you 🥺

he won’t fuck you cause only good girls get all of him, all you’ll get is tongue and fingers 🚶🏽‍♀️

Make you perch right off the edge of the bed so when your punishment comes, you can’t get away from it,, and spread ‘er open so he can get a nice look at his beautiful girl....and the poor, sweet little brat she’s attached to. Can’t get away or look away either and if you try you’ll just get put RIGHT back in place with a quick “ah-ah” and swift movement of his hands.

His doe-like green eyes look so,, dark and somber while he punishes you, like he feels your pain right along with you 😩 as he makes you look at him, you swear you can see little tears in his eyes as well; but it could just be the copious amount tears in YOUR eyes playing tricks on you as well 🚶🏽‍♀️

Tear tracks, both dry and wet rolling down your fat cheeks, curly hair a-mess, big ol’ tummy just moving from your quick little breaths, thighs trying to clench n close so bad but he’s so big between your legs it’s literally pointless—

belligerent babble mixed with sodden apologies and pleas,, you look like a masterpiece to him!

but it’s ok cause he’s gonna make you appreciate what HE sees, whether you want to or not 🚶🏽‍♀️

no amount of “Zu-Zu, please—!” or “g’nna cream” “crEAMING—!!” “p-please, can’t take it—!” will change his mind; just your swollen, fat little cunt creaming and creaming in his mouth n’ frothing around his big, calloused fingers...

“ ‘o mean to my pretty girl” he whispers tenderly, almost pouting at you as he whines about how cruel you are; “‘s the matter, huh? ’m not treating my baby enough?” how could you be so callous to this body that he worships on an altar? Has he not shown you enough love? What else can he do to get you to see what he sees?

cause of course he thinks it’s his fault,, his responsibility 😩

He’s tried words of affirmation for the longest yet here he is, still trying to teach you to love yourself... guess he’s just gonna have to fuck you stupid 🤷🏽‍♀️ can’t insult yourself if you can’t think at all, right?

Todo and Itadori too 🥺 cept he’s a bit meaner and will edge you from time to time, Yuji may even let Sukuna teach you a lesson or 2...cause you dare to insult the king’s taste?? You say he can “do better”??? You think you know better than the King of Curses???

well you’re right...his second/true form can make you cream and cry harder than Itadori ever could 🤷🏽‍♀️

and he knows it

i stumbled into another dimension while reading this

---

{Special} College!AU Jae

major: communications - rhetoric concentration 

minor: philosophy (not going well for him)

sports: n/a

clubs: debate team, writes for the art journal, in a couple of on-campus bands but is mostly active with a group called night6

“bro, why aren’t you a music major?”

“easy. i love getting into arguments with people.”

so a lot of people don’t know much about tall, lanky, otherwise unthreatening looking jae

and that’s the fact that he can run his mouth a mile a minute, and quite frankly, he loves doing that

got called out on twitter for abusing the 280 character limit 

by called out i mean youngk started a poll to get jae blocked by twitter - it didn’t work but it was hilarious 

asked his friend jamie once “hey, if i send in my grades - will they verify me on instagram?”

she wasn’t amused

he originally thought taking philosophy would just mean more time to debate others, but socrates ??? what was that dude even saying??? why are all his words so Complicated

like jae is all for that know thyself but damn,,,,,

he wants to go into law after school,,,,or more specifically public policy and stuff. he might act silly and make sarcastic jokes the core of his personality - but jae cares about things

he cares about people and the world deeply, enough that he’s agitated by unjustice

even if he’s gotten excused from “discourses on colonialism” like five times for cursing out christopher columbus 

he loves music a lot, probably has the most diverse taste in it though - so people are always asking him for reccommendations 

knows like,,,,,every local band playing in bars near campus,,,

night6 is a small band gotten together by jae and his closes friends, their unofficial manager is jamie who always puts up a fuss about them not playing venues worth their talent

but tbh jae loves it, the stage

small or big, playing guitar or arguing over texts - he just likes the spotlight

even if his rather shy, nerdy apperance says otherwise

he probably owns like one hundred of the same pair of wide-framed glasses because he thinks they make him look the best

also once he worse dark ones and wonpil was like “you look like a blind mouse”

always chilling outside of class, guitar case slung over his shoulder and notebook in hand, listening to some indie album no one has ever heard of

has messy hair, but a super clean dorm (sungjin really doesn’t know why his dorm is the only thing jae keeps organized in his life)

and you’ve actually known jae for a while, since middle school actually,,,

in high school you two even briefly dated, after years of friendship it had all come to a point where you’d kissed at some after party dance

and you and jae were sure you were soulmates, both music obsessed and enjoying good banter

but,,,,,,,,,it didn’t last long,,,,,,,,,because well because you ended it

there had been too much going on, too many uncertain futures and jae had still been a teenager - unaware that his jokes had a time and a place

and when you were in peril, you didn’t want his sarcastic commentary,,,,you wanted the jae behind that

the jae that had held you in his arms like you were the most treasured source of light in his life and if he were to let go  he’d be shrouded in darkness forever

but he hadn’t been that,,,and you didn’t know if he still had it in him

you guys didn’t talk much after, you didn’t know he even ended up at the same college as you until you see him talking with a jamie outside of debate club

and you wouldn’t have gone over, if it hadn’t have been for jamie spotting you and waving you over

she held your arm excitedly, asking if you know jae and if you can still make it to the concert she’d invited you tonight

all too quick did it dawn that this was jae’s concert,,,, 

“im happy you still play guitar.”

you whispered and jamie’s excitement buzzed between the weird atmosphere of you and jae

he smiled, but it was half-hearted

“im happy you’re doing well.”

the concert was,,,,just as you expected - in a dark, dingy bar full of drunk undergrads

jae’s band was playing, and you could vaguely recognize youngk who also went to high school with you two

the setlist was a whole bunch of songs you’d never head before - and you couldn’t believe that you felt your heart twist when you couldn’t even recognize one

a memory of you and jae, sitting in his garage when you were just sixteen played like an old film in your head

he had been a tiny bit shorter than he was now, and his handsome sharp features were awkward

but you had felt nothing short of true, pure love back then

because jae was sharing his songs with you, reaching out to take your hand and help you play chords 

laughing sweetly against your ear and making everything else float away

he had been close, so so close

but now, you were at the other end of the room and he was playing something unfamiliar and his eyes hadn’t met yours the entire night,,

clutching your untouched beer once more, you pushed it away and made your way to jamie who stood at the edge of the stage recording the performance

“just got a text from my RA, im gonna go ok?”

she nodded, turning to smile and mouth a goodbye

as you turned, your back to the stage as you fought through the people to the exit

jae’s eyes flicked from his mic to the shadow of your figure

i won’t miss them. ive missed them for far too long

he thought, but somehow he knew he was lying to himself. like he’d lied to himself when you broke up with him.

after that, you and jae kept your distances

jamie had tried to invite you to more of night6′s shows - but you made up excuses

she probed and jae to tell her how you two knew each other, but he always answered in one word or two

“school” “same neighborhood” “don’t remember” 

but he did - he remembered everything, even the things that hurt the most 

how you weren’t a,,,,,,sun kind of person,,,,you were more like the moon - gentle, but unforgettable 

you were the first person to tell jae he didn’t have to be whatever other people wanted him to be

you were the first person he really,,,,kissed,,,,really touched

there was so much about you - small facts and habits that he knew that suddenly flooded back in waves after seeing you at his concenrt

that he couldn’t sleep for hours,,,,,laid in bed and stared into the dark, listening to youngk’s small snores and stirs and thought

about the color of your eyes, the slope of your neck, your words - “jae, you weren’t there for me. i needed you and you just - you just -”

both you and jae know that staying away is the only thing that can keep you two on track, and the university is a big place it isn’t that hard to avoid crossing paths

but fate is mysterious and sometimes you can’t control where two people end up

it’s late when you leave the bookstore - you’re supposed to take your bike back to campus but ,,,,,,,, it’s gone

you stare at the pole you attached it to, but,,,,,,,it’s not there

the only thing remaining is the broken lock laying helplessly on the ground and as you squat down to pick it up

you try to reason with yourself - so what if it got stolen,,,,it was old,,,,,

but biting back your lip, you clutch the lock in hand and think that there must be a bus nearby,,,,a metro station? 

“stolen bike? tough luck!”

a voice says from behind you

“people are really dropping to new lows these days, like dude just go get a used bike they’re like thirty bucks.”

the voice is familiar and you want to tell yourself that no, there’s no way

but when you turn, jae is there and his look of amusement washes into something between shock and regret

“oh,,,,hey.”

you swallow, hiding the lock completely in your hand and trying to tell yourself to just act normal - like you guys are just clasmates - not friends, but not strangers

“hey, it,,,it’s funny right.”

you mean the bike, but jae’s tone of humor is gone. his eyes fixate on your hand and you see them do a small twitch, a habit he’s had since you knew him

“im,,,,about to drive back to campus. do you want a ride?”

of all the things in world you shouldn’t agree to, a one-on-one late night drive with your ex has to be up there

but you’re,,,,not in the mood to wander around looking for your stolen bike or any other way to get back to school

plus saying no,,,,would just seem like you were making things weird and you didn’t want to make things weird

so forcing the best smile you can you nod, “tha-that’d be great, but i hope it’s not a bother.”

jae shakes his head, the unkept bangs fall over his glasses and when he turns you take in the lines of his jaw and nose

since you’ve last seen him, he’s grown

and you were always charmed by his physical appearance, but now he wasn’t just cute - he was truly an adult 

with big shoulders and prominent angles that made something stir within you

something you pleaded with to calm down - to not cloud your better judgment 

jae’s car was familiar, it had belonged to his father when you were in high school and jae had stolen it once to drive you two to the city once,,,

you’d never made it - turning around halfway there because the sun was rising and instead stopping off the road to watch it 

he had held your hand back then, brought it up to his lips and kissed it 

he’d gotten grounded when he drove back, coming into school laughing about it at your locker

now, you were sitting beside him in the passenger seat and it was silent - pitch black outside aside from the flickering of stop lights and buildings

and you could hear your breathing, the beating of your heart and how it got just a bit faster when jae put his hand on the headrest of your seat while backing up out of the parking space

neither of you spoke, he didn’t even play music which was odd

it was horrible - suffocating

until finally you had had enough and leaned forward to press play on the car radio

“don’t-” jae began, but it was too late

the CD inside started playing - the sound of jae’s young voice speaking your name

“-this is a playlist just for you. it has all our songs on it, the one we kissed to and all the corny good stuff. the first one’s the one i wrote for you. don’t laugh at it, ok? you better not laugh.”

jae stopped it before the song could play, but you already knew what it was 

this was the playlist jae had made for you after you guys started dating. you’d given the CD back when you broke up,,,but why was he listening to it now?

you wanted to ask, but something kept you from it

“im sorry. this is awkward.” you whisper

“are you sorry that this situation is awkward or are you saying apologizing is awkward?”

you grimace at that, there he goes - always politicking always,,,saying what you wish he wouldn’t

jae seems to feel you tense and sighs

“sorry,,,,sorry,,,,i still haven’t learned to watch my mouth. but,,,,im sorry too. i wish,,,,,,,,we didn’t have to be like this.”

there’s pain in his voice and it almost breaks you - but you understand what he means

sitting back against the seat, you turn to face the window just because you don’t know what to say

you’re so scared of this fragile line you and jae are walking

because every moment with him feels like you’re re-living those good memories from before

but you’re also thinking about the moment you chose to abandon all that

jae doesn’t bother you, he seems to be in the same limbo of feelings too the whole drive back

but what’s weird is that when you pull into the parking lot, you both sit there in the car - not sure who should move first

“part of me regrets it.”

you breath and clench your teeth as you speak

jae’s eyes stay on the dashboard

“part of me regrets breaking up with you, because i did it so trivially - i just snapped under pressure and thought that you couldn’t give me what i wanted and jae -”

you feel his gaze finally settle on you

and his eyes aren’t those of the teenage boy you were in love with, they’re of someone matured and ready to be serious

“jae everything back then was so ,,,, fucked.”

you don’t even realize it, maybe because it’s the earth’s magnetic force or your own instincts as people, but you and jae are coming closer

till his strong hands have you in a hug, uncomfortable because of your positions in the car, but so inviting and warm

protective ,,,,, the kind of hug you needed back then but also the kind of hug you craved for even now

“i was still a kid, i didn’t know what to do. but ive grown, and i can be there now.”

his voice sounds deeper, closer against the shell of your ear and your grip on him tightens 

“have you been remembering ,,,,,, us?” you as with a shiver down your spine as jae nuzzles his face into your neck

“yes. i remember,,,,,,everything.”

that night, neither of you can go back to your dorms

you and jae walk the campus, still and untouched in the night and hold hands

you feel his long fingers entwine with yours and it’s embarrassing the thought that runs through your head

you’ve only just,,,,gotten close again - you can’t rush

and when you and jae talk,,,,,because years have passed and you’re not lost teens with too much adrenaline and misconceptions about the world you realize you’re both in places where,,,,,,,having each other

it would be nice. really nice

you fall asleep against his shoulder in the backseat of his car, his hoodie that he shrugs off is your blanket and nothing really happens but physical closeness and content

that your past is put to rest,,,,and you could find each other again

when you wake up, jae says he’s late for his class but he didn’t want to move and wake you

you poke him playfully, tell him that was dumb but jae just smiles and gropes around for his glasses on the car floor

he walks you to your dorm, and tells you to keep the hoodie

you walk a little bit up the stairs, just two or three before you’re at a height where you can lean over and kiss his forehead

and its,,,,,,,,,childish,,,,,giddiness that fills you two up even though you’re not kids anymore

the word dating doesn’t really come up till a couple of weeks after that, when jamie runs into you and jae at the cafe - jae is mocking one of the philosophers he has to read for class and you’ve got your legs thrown over his 

“sooooo you’re a couple now? honestly, you’re too good for jae!”

jamie comments, throwing an arm around you as she plops down at the table

she steals some of your coffee and jae rolls his eyes at her - asks her to let go of you, his significant other

and jamie just huffs, because she had you first

it’s a joke between friends, but you do have to put an end to it before someone gets some kind of food chucked at them

when jamie hops off to join kevin for studying, you look over at jae and smile

“so, it’s official - we gotta im your’s, you’re mine kinda thing?”

he grins, cheesy and the like and kisses your lips

“yep, better tell youngk to give up on that longtime crush he’s been having”

“oh hush, he doesn’t like me”

jae shakes his head, “i meant the one he’s had on me, obviously since im taken now.”

and don’t get me wrong, jae is still the sarcastic lil shit he’s always been - with a humor that borderlines annoying but that is still loveable

because he’s learned to scale it back, and he’s learned how to be a shoulder for you to lean on

just like you’re always ready to be there for him

whether it be supporting him at local band shows, wiping sweat off his face after a long set 

to helping him stay up and finish his philosophy papers - wikipedia articles and all

“those glasses make you look like a bug my dude”

youngk snarks one afternoon as you’re all eating lunch and jae untangles his arms from your waist to flick his best friend on the forehead

“hey, he’s a cute bug youngk - don’t be jealous”

you chime in, taking a bite of your food and lifting the chopsticks up again to feed jae

youngk makes a hacking noise at the affection, but both and jae stick your tongues out at him

you’re always surprised by the minimalism of jae’s dorm, just his bed, his desk, and his guitar 

even youngk has more than him, and you insist he decorate - give it some flavor

so jae hangs up a photo of you guys with tape and is like “i put up the most important photo i could find!”

you blush, but then you’re like “no, no we need one more.”

he tilts his head and you go “your mom. get a photo of her up there too you dweeb”

he  claps his hands together and goes “you’re totally right!”

sometimes he’ll call you petnames in korean and you’re like,,,tell me what it means or im bringing back the infamous chicken little jokes LOL

he’s so tall, that all his clothing has to be a size too large so it’ll be long enough

but this is great for you, endless baggy shirts and sweaters and flannels

and sweater paws that make jae fawn over you - or pout and go “give that back, i was gonna wear it to class!”

you and jamie are the first proud owners of night6 t-shirts

sungjin sometimes asks you if jae,,,,is like,,,,just like that 

and you’re like ?? what do you mean

and sungjin is like - is he just you know,,,,,,always talking

you: no there’s an off button, wanna see?

sungjin: please show me go

you: ok, here goes

and all you have to do is tap jae’s shoulder and wag with your finger for him to lean down

you kiss him, all cute and soft - leaving jae in a happy daze while throwing the peace sign up at sungjin who looks equally shocked and equally disappointed 

there’s a week where youngk goes away on a research trip with his fellow majors

and you and jae literally just turn the dorm into your own little apartment for the whole time, you never leave and you guys eat on youngk’s bed to avoid crumbs in jae’s

watching youtube video together, listening to jae write and practice, joking about how you guys have to wait past midnight to shower together 

it’s a week of just,,,,being domestic - and honestly you could get used to it,,,,

the last night you have “youngk free” as jae calls it, you’re laying beside jae and his hair is still slightly wet from his shower

he’s playing some game on his phone, arm still wrapped around you when you get that feeling in your stomach

and sit up, carefully removing the photographt of jae’s mother from his wall and placing it face down on his desk

“what’s up-”

he starts, but you throw a leg over his thighs and straddle his waist

jae’s eyes turn wide, and then haze over when you pull off his glasses and chuck his phone onto youngk’s bed

leaning in, jae taste faintly of mint and his large hand splays over your lower back 

you two fit together - and it’s like the temperature in the room climbs up ten degrees

jae sits up, you slide into his lap easily and there’s kissing, small sounds, and a lot of his hands everywhere

his body isn’t too muscular, it’s long and lean and he has the right amount of strength to support whatever you have for him 

and everything is close to perfect, but the small bumps of your noses and apologizes about marks left on necks just add to the overall naturality of being with him

“im blessed, im so blessed to have you”

is said somewhere afterwords, in the fall of bliss

and your heavy eyelids are kissed as you two fall asleep

youngk gets back early, and isn’t surprised to see you in the dorm collecting your things and taping the photo of jae’s mother back on the wall

you wave goodbye and when jae looks at youngk he grins “how was your trip?”

“just tell me you guys didnt’,,,,,not in my bed right?”

jae is not poetic when he talks, but he has a talent with lyrics and wonpil is sure some of his softer, more romantic ones are about you

jae refuses to acknowledge this, but the moment you’re around - sitting on his lap and playing with his hair or just giving him a kiss on the neck 

wonpil is sure what’s written on jae’s face is pure adoration 

you and jae debate on everything in a joking, couple kind of way but you do get competitive over some things

like which song is better or whose better at pokemon

and everyone thinks your twitter rants about each other are hilarious

you and jae can’t stay mad at each other for too long though - you both miss kissing each other more

jae is never amused at you asking him to get things off the top shelves in the libarary

but then again, you’re so freaking cute he does it anyway

“you’re mi amor”

“is that all the spanish you know?”

“i was born in argentina, but i didn’t really live there for too long - don’t sass me”

you and jae are voted cutest couple by the journal he sometimes writes for and youngk is like the votes are rigged but they’re not yall just too sweet to handle 

more college aus can be found:

by group: bangtan | vixx | got7 | nct | kard | monsta x | seventeen  gg specials: amber | momo | irene 

---

Barbatos is super cool and elegant but I bet everyone I own that he is the freakiest in bed, the freak of the group wit the sex drive over the moon

Oh, I can totally see that. I think he would be adaptable to whatever his partner wanted. Given the right circumstances, I imagine what he's willing to do to them (and allow them to do to him) can be a little extreme.

There’s different versions of Barbatos that live in my brain, and I love them all.

[Barbatos x gn!Reader, 1.4k words, nsfw. Content warnings: sexual situations including one dub-con scenario at the end.]

I like super soft and sweet Barbatos...

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” you protested gently, even as you sighed and melted against the gentle hands rinsing rose-scented suds off your back.

He shushed you and dipped the washcloth back into the bubbly bath water. “We don’t have many moments like this together. Allow me this chance to be selfish with you, my dear.” He brushed a kiss against your shoulder, and his lips ticked into a gentle smile when you shuddered.

“As long as I’m not taking you away from your other work,” you said softly as you looked at him over your shoulder.

He trailed his wet fingers across your chest and up the delicate skin of your throat. He cradled your jaw and his eyes flicked down to your lips. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be,” he promised before he leaned forward and kissed you. He groaned quietly when your lips slotted against his, and when you pulled away to catch your breath, he licked his lips thoughtfully.

“Want to join me, then?” you asked breathlessly.

He soaked in the sight of your bright eyes and glistening skin, and his eyes trailed down your naked chest. He shook his head and stood up beside the tub. “I have a better idea,” he murmured as he offered you his hand. He helped you from the bath and he reached for the fluffy towel nearby.

You bit your lip when he knelt in front of you and patted your thighs dry with the towel. “You don’t have to do this either,” you said, voice shaky as desire washed over you, but you tangled in his hair when he shuffled closer to you.

He leaned forward and inhaled your natural scent laced with rose, and he sighed with something like contentment as he pressed a kiss to your belly.

“I've wanted to do this all day,” he whispered as he nudged your thighs apart and settled between them. He leaned forward and teased your arousal with his tongue, and when your legs started to shake, he curled his hands around your hips to steady you.

...and I like desperate and dirty Barbatos...

"Wait, what if–oh, fuck–what if someone hears us?"

You were bent over a side table in an empty lounge not far from the ballroom where tonight's festivities were being held. When Barbatos appeared and quietly asked for a moment of your time, you thought he wanted to chat, or perhaps steal a kiss in private. You didn't expect him to pull you into an empty room and tug at your dress clothes. He maneuvered you against the tabletop and moved your underwear aside so he could stretch you open with his slick, greedy fingers.

He hummed in agreement. "You're right, my love. You're far too noisy," he chided you as he slipped in a third finger and stroked over the soft, spongy spot buried deep inside you. He smirked when you bit your lip to silence the surprised moan that tumbled from your lips.

"I can't–please–" your cheek was squished against the cool wooden table, and you panted even as his wicked fingers sent jolts of pleasure shooting through you.

Something cool and wet flicked against the corner of your mouth, and you opened your lips obediently as one of the forks of his tail prodded for entrance. You moaned around the tip and sucked. He squeezed your hip approvingly and you felt lightheaded from his silent praise.

"Perhaps keeping your mouth full will help, hm?" He pulled his fingers from your body and swatted the swell of your ass when you whined pathetically around the appendage dancing along your tongue. He repositioned behind you and flicked open his fly so he could pull out his cock.

You closed your eyes as the soft, buttery leather gloves he wore spread your thighs wider for him. Heat bloomed in your cheeks when he stood there, silent and unmoving, and you knew he was staring at you.

He watched your greedy hole flutter around the blunt head of his cock, and he rubbed across your entrance without slipping inside. His self-control started to fray at the seams when you wiggled your hips invitingly and brushed back against him. You bit the tip of his tail, too–not hard, but with enough pressure to get his attention–and he groaned.

You cheeky little thing.

He snarled and pulled your hips back onto his cock as he bullied inside you with one rough stroke. He leaned over your back and growled in his chest, low and deep, and he started to thrust as his tail muffled your cries.

...and I like creepy and morally bankrupt Barbatos, too. (I like him so much, I wrote a series about him.)

Barbatos waited patiently outside the guest chambers you were given for tonight's overnight stay at the castle. He wasn't sure how long the tea would take to work, and he was so eager to–

A confused moan from within your room caught his attention, and he tempered the eager smile that threatened to bloom across his face. He shuffled his feet so you would hear the sound of footsteps near your door, and he knocked twice before stepping inside hesitantly.

"I beg your pardon, but I heard a noise as I walked past." He noticed your confused expression, the beads of sweat that were dotting along your brow, and the way your hands clenched the sheets of your bed.

You shook your head and whimpered. "I don't–I don't know, I started feeling sick all of a sudden? I feel so hot, and–" your quivering voice trailed off into a moan and you winced with embarrassment.

He stepped closer to you and he could practically taste the pheromones your body was pumping into the air. He's glad he gave you this room, further away from the others, at the end of a long hallway where no one but him would have reason to pass.

He pulled off his gloves and slipped them into his pocket. You fixated on his bare hands and he felt primal satisfaction swell inside him when your eyes shone with unabashed lust.

"I'm here," he murmured with false sympathy as he cupped your cheek with his palm.

Compared to your burning-hot skin, his hands felt cool and dry and you nuzzled into the touch with a sigh. You were mindless except for the desire churning in your belly. When you rubbed your thighs together, you felt how wet your underwear was from the arousal leaking from you.

He stroked your face gently. "Do you want my help?" He could sense you were so close to giving in.

You peered up into his face, you dark and half-lidded eyes glistening with tears and pleading for his help. You choked as another cramp between your legs made you gasp, and you nodded your head instead.

Even in your compromised state, you felt a moment of relief. You trusted him. You rolled over and rubbed your hips pitifully against the sheets looking for some sort of friction. You knew he was watching, but you didn't care. Nothing else mattered except the sudden urge to be taken. The hot evidence of your arousal leaked freely between your legs and soaked the sheets underneath you.

He looked on curiously as you desperately attempted to soothe the fire raging inside you. He knew your efforts would fail; the sickness plaguing you won't be satisfied by your own hand or clumsy movements. Nothing can help you now, nothing except his cock buried deep inside you and marking you with his scent and seed.

He sat on the edge of the bed beside you and lowered his head. "Tell me what you want," he whispered into your ear.

You shuddered when his hot breath tickled the sensitive skin of your neck. "Need you, inside, I need it –please?" you babbled while you continued rocking uselessly against the mattress.

"As you wish," he murmured darkly. He couldn't hide the victorious smirk that curled his lips–the potion he stirred into your tea this evening worked better than he could've imagined.

He started unbuttoning his shirt and he teased you, slowly revealing inch after inch of pale skin to your burning gaze. When was finally naked, he lowered himself to the bed and rolled you onto your back. He was too impatient to be gentle, and he knew you were too. He tore your clothes to shreds until your heaving chest and soft belly and bare thighs were exposed to him. He roamed your skin greedily with his hands and his cock throbbed when you arched into his touch.

Another ripple of painful need tore through you, and you nearly sobbed from being so painfully empty. He hushed you as he covered your body with his own. You whimpered his name when he positioned himself between your trembling thighs, and the beast inside him howled as he crushed his lips to yours.

Taglist: @your-next-daydream, @mithrakira @l-d-8 @lemonivall @meggsngrits @catching-cloudzzz @flemmingbamse

Join the taglist here. | Obey Me! Masterlist

NEED a fluffy sickfic where george loses his voice and reader dotes, 64 or 66 era pls - LOVE UR WRITING BTW!

whisper in my ear, a wish

george harrison x reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none !

summary: sick day with geo

a/n: omg this is such a cute idea and thanks sm!!! <333 (btww i rlly liked writting this, maybe pt. 2?)

she'd never seen george this quiet before.

he wasn’t one for loud entrances or anything like that, but he was always present. a dry joke at the right moment, a gentle hum while tuning his guitar, the soft way he’d whisper some lyrics.

but tonight, as the five of them shuffled off the tour bus and into the hotel lobby, george didn’t say a word. his steps were slow and he was leaning against her more than usual, when she looked up at him under the dim light, she noticed the flush in his cheeks, and it was not the good kind.

“you okay, georgie?” she whispered, keeping her voice low so the boys wouldn’t tease.

he didn’t answer. just shruged slightly and blinked slowly.

inside the shared hotel suite, the boys were still hyped from the show, paul was messing with his bass, john was pacing in circles with a pen and paper, muttering something about new songs, and ringo had already claimed a spot on the floor to play cards.

she sat george down on the bed in one of the rooms, fingers already brushing the hair off his forehead. he felt hot, and again, it was not the good kind.

she held the back of her hand to his forehead.

“george,” she said gently. “you’re burning up.”

he opened his mouth to reply, but when he tried to speak, only a hoarse, whispery sound came out. his eyes widened slightly, surprised as he tried again, but nothing came out, just a raspy squeak.

“oh, love,” she murmured, cupping his jaw.

he looked so embarrassed and glanced away quickly, jaw clenched like he was holding back frustration or maybe just the urge to apologize even though he couldn’t. she leaned in and kissed his cheek softly.

“don’t worry, i’ll take care of you.”

she made him tea first. well, she tried to, with boiling water from the little electric kettle in the corner, the only teabag she could find, and honey she'd begged from the concierge. but when she held it to his lips, he took it without question, eyes glassy.

then she sat behind him on the bed, letting his back rest against her chest as she rubbed slow circles into his shoulders. he melted into her touch, long lashes fluttering shut.

the boys peeked in an hour later, much quieter than usual.

“alright if we crash in the other room?” paul asked softly. “we’ll keep the tv low.”

“sure,” she whispered. “he’s asleep.”

ringo tiptoed in and placed a little wrapped chocolate on the nightstand “he’ll like it when he wakes up,” he whispered with a wink.

...

her fingers threaded through his hair, the rain started tapping against the hotel window, soft and rhythmic.

Then a shift.

george stirred a little. he reached for her hand and pulled it gently to his lips, pressing a tiny kiss to her knuckles without opening his eyes.

“hey,” she whispered, brushing her thumb along the side of his face. “that’s my line.”

he opened one eye, and tapped his chest lightly twice with his finger. a silent "now it's mine.”

she giggled quietly. “oh well, i guess you’re allowed to be the baby tonight.”

george gave her a tired little smile.

then, slowly, he reached for a notebook by the nightstand and scribbled a shaky message:

“everything hurts, but you make it better.”

"well, that's my job"

he smiled and blinked a few times, then leaned over, pressing his forehead to her shoulder. she kissed the top of his head, humming softly into his hair.

𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐲

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

tags: 18+ very graphic smut, rough van sex, dirty talk, analplay, sub!eddie but also very much switch!eddie, lust at first sight, major mutual pining, a sprinkle of perv!eddie but hes sexy so its okay, (1) guest appearance by dustin, post vol. 2 fix-it fic, 7k filth

summary: she’s the girl next door. eddie is the metalhead freak who’s just barely clearing his name after a whole town fiasco. opposites attract but certainly not like this, and certainly not in the back of eddie’s van.

a/n: pov vol 2 ended on a positive note and eleven miraculously fixed everything so a freshly-graduated eddie can now live his life to the fullest!!!!!!!! aka what should’ve happened… minors dni. not for u.

It’s rare for Eddie Munson to be roaming the white-picket fence suburbs of Hawkins. It feels like a fantasyland — golden retrievers and tabby cats, designated trash days and bright, green grass full of yellow daffodils, oak trees with makeshift swings and wooden playgrounds built by loving fathers. It’s too perfect, too uncanny, and Eddie knows deep down that he doesn’t belong in such a world as nice as this one. 

But the suburbs of Hawkins are also welcoming.

When he gives Dustin a ride from school to home, when the noon is at its peak, golden rays and soft sprinklers making rainbows rise from the soil, he thinks — for a moment or two — that he belongs. He could if he wanted to. When Henderson invites him over for dinner, or when Harrington needs help fixing his car, when Mike needs relationship advice (as if Eddie could know anything about that) and when Robin wants to know more about Iron Maiden to impress the metalhead ladies, he thinks that maybe, just maybe, it isn’t so bad on this side of town.

That is until he saw you. And he realized then why everyone called this part of Hawkins a slice of paradise.

Pretty college student. Cut-off shorts from the Gap paired with baggy baseball tees, and a cute nose always stuffed in a romance novel or — some days — a textbook. Glossy lips, adorable socks and checkered picnic blankets where you’d lay out on the too-pristine yard, kicking your legs back and forth as if acting like eye candy was your specialty. 

The perfect poster girl of Hawkins with just enough rough edges to be labelled the girl next door. 

Only, Eddie doesn’t live next door to you. Dustin does. 

“The least you could tell me is her name, Henderson. I don’t want gas money, I want her name. Spelled out for me, syllable by syllable. Government name.” Eddie rambles, shifting impatiently in the driver’s seat as Dustin leans over the passenger window from the outside. “We’re sitting ducks here, man. What if she sees us spying on her damn fence like some creeps?”

The curly-haired sophomore sighs, fingers strung together as he frowns at his older friend, “You are a grown ass man, Eddie. All you have to do is ask her, just say hi, make an impression or something! You can’t just be looking at her from afar everytime you come over, blasting this Metallica shit…”

“You are on very thin ice, boy.” Eddie wags a finger at him, wide eyes bouncing between Dustin and the front of your house. “I don’t know her like you know her. I don’t wanna be weird, especially after just putting all this town satanic cult bull behind my ass. She might think — dammit, I don’t know… I just wouldn’t wanna scare the girl, okay?” He sucks in a deep breath, shrugging the thought off with a hopeful smile, “Not this time.”

“Disgusting.” 

He snaps his head towards Dustin, reaching over and rustling the cap on his head with a playful smirk. “You’re disgusting, you fuckin’ booger.”

And as if on cue, like every other day he’s been through this neighborhood, Eddie watches your figure emerge from the porch, picnic blanket and weathered paperback in hand. His jaw goes slack at the image of your denim overall-clad frame, nothing but a bikini-like bra underneath the number while a fresh cigarette dangles from your lips. So much skin — the exposed flesh of your neck, the salty beads of sweat rolling down your collarbone, the cherubic glow of your complexion and the alluring blush of your lips as you sit out on the yard. 

Fuck.

A loud boom pulls the metalhead from his trance. Dustin’s palm comes down against the flimsy van door. “Earth to Eddie? Get a grip, you’re drooling.” 

And all he can really say is: “She’s so damn pretty.”

Maybe he’s overreacting. Maybe he’s just really that in-deep with a girl who he has never, ever spoken to. Maybe he’s a pervert rather than a misunderstood freak and this is all just completely wrong of him. But, god, it feels so right to stare. Eddie can’t help it, especially once you catch sight of Dustin and send him an adorable little wave — then your eyes flicker over to Eddie’s dumbfounded expression inside the van, where you wave at him too. 

And the twenty one year-old swears he dies. Right at that moment. His heart skips several beats all at once, possibly even flatlining as a small smile falls upon your graceful features, bursting right out of his chest even as you look away and immediately redirect your attention to the walkman in your pocket like you hadn’t just casually murdered him alive. 

Fuck me, he thinks.

The next time Eddie sees you, he gets a little more than a wave. He’s reveling in this newfound attention as he bounces down the steps of Dustin’s porch and catches sight of you on the other side of the fence, already staring his way before he sends you a nerdy two-finger salute with a close-lipped smile. And just before he reaches the sidewalk, your sweet voice stops him in his determined tracks. 

“Metallica at three p.m. in this neighborhood is a death wish, you know.” 

Eddie turns slowly on his heels, shoes facing you before his whole body follows hesitantly. He’s trying to wipe off that stupid expression on his face, lips parted into a skinny ‘O’ that makes him look like a fish out of water as you finally make eye contact. He heats up immediately from the inside, belly churning and throat tightening when you give him a once over. And it seems like you don’t exactly care for subtlety either — blown pupils raking over his tattooed arms, taking in the torn rips of his shirt-turned-tank-top and the tanlines just above his elbows. 

He hopes you think that the scars on his body are just as badass (if not, more) than his tats. 

Say something. “Didn’t know music was on a schedule.” Eddie manages to follow along with a shrug, lips tugging to the side nervously.

In response, you smile. You fucking smile as if he hadn’t just said the most stupid response ever. It’s gentle, airy, almost effortless as crescent-like lines shape your warm cheeks and you cup a hand over your eyes, adorably squinting through the bright sunlight. “Oh, believe me, I had Iron Maiden on blast one time and ever since then, the whole block has been thinking I’m some sort of cult apologist.”

His heart grows like a balloon filling with helium, voice even going so far to climb several octaves of excitement as his eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “You… you listen to that kind of stuff?”

You play with the lacy strap of your top. You’re beaming widely at him from the other side of the fence. “Do you judge books by their covers, mister?”

“No, ma’am.” Eddie swipes the glistening pad of his thumb across his bottom lip, stifling the grin that threatens to spread across his mouth. Sheepish, he shakes his head. “I think I underestimated you then. I’m… I’m sorry I…”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m kidding. Seriously though, I have a bunch of mixtapes back in my room. Ozzy, Dio, some Sabbath. No one really gets it, but you… you seem like you do.”

And Eddie wonders: could you get any more damn perfect? The suburban denim dream, the girl next door, the quintessential concoction of every teenage boy’s fantasy and every teenage girl’s desire… listens to metal music? And not just AC/DC or KISS (because everyone loves those guys), but the same music he’s grown up with and loved? 

He can’t help but picture you in your bed, records spread out across your comforter as you switch between Dream Evil and Peace of Mind. Your limbs stretched out on the mattress, shirt riding up with nothing but black panties underneath as you rock out to his favorites. 

Yeah. He’ll think about that one a lot.

“I definitely get it. I do, I really do. I love metal.” Eddie rambles, hoping to keep your attention by stalling this conversation as much as possible. You nod at him with those big, innocent eyes and roll your fleshy lip between your teeth, keen to every stupid word that falls from his tongue. “But hey, it can be our little secret, then.” He leisurely gravitates towards the van while you match his strides, taking note of his quavering pitch and the use of Eddie’s own hands waving through the air wildly as he attempts to withhold his nervousness. “And again, just for peace of mind, I didn’t mean to judge. I figured…”

“Madonna?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He chuckles. Feels the anxiety in his stomach build even more. “Nothin’ wrong with Madonna, though. Sexy tunes. Can’t deny that.”

Sexy tunes. Come on, Munson.

But that draws a giggle right out of you, “Sexy tunes, indeed.” Then, you’re both leaning against the side of his van. No fence or Dustin coming between the two of you, just your sweaty bodies and Hawkins’ summer heat seeping through your thin clothes. You hold your palm out, fingers welcomingly outstretched. “I’m Y/N, by the way.” 

Eddie’s gaze bounces from your smaller hand to the doting expression on your face before gingerly enveloping it in his own. “Eddie. Edward. E-Eddie. You can…” You give him a gentle squeeze, a sure smile dusting over your lips. “You can just call me Eddie, or whatever. Whatever you want, Y/N.”

“Well,” You laugh again, and Eddie blushes profusely at the lighthearted noise. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Whatever.” You share another one of those looks, and he swears that this time — this time, your eyes do all the talking that needs to be done. “I think we’ll get along really well… Eddie.”

His name has never sounded so perfect out loud.

Eddie sees you again. 

And again. Every time he drops Dustin off. Again. Leant against the side of his van. Talking and talking, until there’s nothing to talk about — but it’s rare. He always has something to talk about, even when his voice fails him and he stutters or stumbles over syllables because you’re so fucking pretty and he’s… he’s just Eddie. But you see him differently than the others, so he supposes that maybe being “just Eddie” isn’t such an awful thing after all. 

Again, you talk. The sidewalk. Along the road. On your lawn. Sometimes, Eddie will even join you on your blanket, skim through your books and take note of what you read, then he’ll recommend “true” literature like Lord of the Rings or something else with elves and witches. 

Summer has never felt so long. 

Again.

Until again becomes every afternoon. Even on the days Dustin doesn’t need a ride home anymore. Even on the days he has to practice with his band at four, but he can always just come see you at three and drive back because it’s no big deal. Even on the days your parents say you need to stop talking to that Munson boy because he’s no good, but who fucking cares? 

Again, anyways.

You’re not scared of him. He’s not scary. He never was.

And so afternoons turn into nights. And nights consist of sneaking out to Eddie’s van that he’s parked a few houses down the street, because God forbid he talks to the innocent girl next door. Innocent is one fat hoax. You’re smoking pot with him in the back of his fucking van for Ozzy’s sake, giggly and unrelenting as you sit next to each other and drench yourselves in the scent of weed and Eddie’s drugstore cologne while Metallica plays faintly in the background.

He’s all man, but soft with his eyes. Soft in the way he looks at you. Crude in the way he secretly desires you. Now that he knows you, really knows you, you aren’t just beautiful. 

You’re completely devastating. 

You take a long drag of his joint, wincing as the paper sizzles and burns orange. “Fuck, I wish I tried getting high sooner. You’re a horrible influence, you know that?”

Eddie hums with a toothy grin, fiddling with the pair of flimsy headphones in his lap. “And yet you still meet me back here every night.”

“Why do I even do that?” 

“Um, ‘cause I got, like, really fucking good ‘A’ quality weed and impeccable taste in music.” He shrugs nonchalantly, eyes following the mold of your lips around the bud. “Easy there, tigress. Don’t hog it.”

“You said…”

“I said, you could have one hit. And now, I’m confiscating it.”

You groan in protest as Eddie leans over to your side of the van and snatches the blunt from you, tossing it into a mushroom shaped ashtray as he gazes at you curiously. “Since when did you become so mean to me?”

“Weed is meant to be treasured, Y/N. And plus, I’m always mean.”

He has to admit — there has been tension between the two of you ever since your afternoon catch-ups turned into late night talking. Maybe he’s imagining it, but surely you feel it too. The bubbling in his stomach when your elbows brush in such a confined space. The heat rushing to his cheeks when you laugh and place a hand on his thigh, or the dizzy rush flooding your forehead when he picks a flyaway strand of hair off of your shoulder. The increase in your heartbeats as you stare at each other for a minute too long, even sneaking in a second glance because you just have to. 

“You know what you should treasure?” You quirk a brow at him. A smirk tugs upon your lips as you dig through your pocket and pull out a cassette tape, shaking it in front of Eddie’s face. “This week’s mix I made you.”

“My mix is better.” He flicks his walkman open, switching out the tape inside for the one you hand him. “Here’s yours, ma’am.”

And he supposes that no one really expected that his friendship with the girl next door would be founded on trading music with each other. Ever since you and Eddie found out your tastes were in alignment, you made it a goal to introduce new songs to him — Madonna included. Sexy tunes. 

You think he could get used to the oddity of The Cure. He thinks he can convince you that Guns N’ Roses will eventually be a rock sensation. You’re skeptical. Maybe.

So you marinate in each other’s stagnant presence, leaning on opposite walls of his metal tin can of a van, holding your own walkmans with ears caressed by Koss headphones and lids shut as your heads bob to the acoustics. Eddie can’t help but crack an eye open, sneaking a peek at your chewed lip and your look of concentration. 

“I like this one.” You pipe up, feeling his stare on you. He glances away before you can actually catch him, training his gaze on the mess of blankets behind the driver’s seat. “You know, your choices this week are very interesting, Munson.”

Suggestive. His choices are suggestive, is what you’re thinking. From the first to the last track, the list of songs messily etched onto the cassette with the most boyish handwriting you’d ever seen, you can only hope that the metalhead holds some sort of attraction for you in the same manner you do for him. 

Eddie chuckles, and winces apologetically at you. “I still hate The Cure, by the way.”

You nod unconvinced, and pull one of the cups of your headphones away from your ear. There’s a smile of amusement, an interested dimple in your cheek. “And yet you included The Perfect Girl on here?” 

“Only because it made me think of you.”

For once, he realizes that he has flustered you. Your jaw goes slack, your pupils widen, brows softening before your nose crinkles at him. “Shut up, Eddie.”

His palms raise in a peaceful surrender, ringed fingers wiggling adorably. “You asked, Y/N.” A beat. Then you’re playfully throwing a jacket at his face and squealing before he instinctively lunges forward at you, gentle hands pulling you back by the elbows. Despite the struggle, eventually he’s pinned to the floor of the van and you’re on top of him straddling his soft belly. “Get off, you monster!” He near-giggles, sputtering as his hair gets into his mouth and he feels your body racking with laughter. 

“You’re so rude to me. Like the rudest. When has The Cure ever hurt you?” You pant out, chest rising and falling steadily as you both catch your breath. Eddie’s headphones haphazardly hug his head, walkman in the palm that rests above him. “Do you treat your girlfriend this way, hm?”

“No girlfriend.” 

“Oh?” 

“Mmm, I thought it was obvious.” He replies quietly, the sound comes out more like a soft moan rather than an agreement. His plushy lips are wet with saliva, tongue poking between the pink flesh as his eyes flicker from your parting mouth to your curious, swirling irises. “S’why I’m here with you.”

“So I’m the second choice is what you’re…”

“Please, you are farthest from the second choice, sweetheart.” Eddie laughs, ribs rumbling against his torso. Only then does he become hyper aware of the way your breasts push up against his shirt, the warmth of your skin intermixing with his, your nipples hardening against the thin white fabric of your camisole. Sweetheart, you repeat. Sweetheart. Sweetheart. Sweetheart. “Do you have one?”

“A girlfriend?” You ask, tone playful and curious.

Careless Whisper echoes through his headphones; your mixtape is still looping through his walkman as you trail your fingers down his wrists and brace yourself on his chest. 

Fucking hell. It’s ironic. It’s pathetic. George Michael needs to shut up. Why is this damned song on here? He’s struggling to think, struggling to focus on the words coming from your mouth, struggling to keep it in his pants because you keep shifting farther and farther away from his stomach, and more and more towards his crotch. Focus. Tune out that stupid saxophone.

“Sure.” He shrugs breathlessly, tingling with anticipation. 

“Nope.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Not yet, no. Why is this a conversation, Eddie?” You bite your lip cheekily, knees planted firmly on either side of his lean body when you gaze down at him then survey the still-lit joint resting on his ashtray. Silence, then: “Can I have a hit? Please?”

Eddie glances at your lips, fixating on how your tongue darts out to lick at the sticky gloss. The moonlight casts a glow over your frame, highlighting the path of your curves through your tank top. And without really taking his eyes off of your beautiful face, his fingers reach for the blunt, a blush spreading across his chiseled cheeks when your hand brushes against his to grab it. 

Please.

A sizzle rustles through the heavy air as you take a slow drag.

And Eddie can’t help himself. Not this time.

“You’re so pretty, you know that?”

You’re slowly tossing the perfectly-good blunt aside, leaning down and lazily grabbing Eddie gingerly by his chin. 

He thinks you’re gonna kiss him.

And before he can lift his head to meet you, instead, you’re blowing a puff of smoke between his parted lips with an exhale. “Fuck… ing… heck…” He instantly groans, eyelids drooping as your ass pushes against him teasingly like you hadn’t just shotgunned into his goddamn mouth. Party trick. You flutter your lashes bashfully, dimples poking at your cheeks as Eddie gapes at you just inches away from your face. “Y/N, where the fuck did you… learn that?”

You sigh. “Eddie Munson, you just keep on underestimating me.” 

“I really do, I really fucking do…” He huffs, knuckles turning white around his walkman as you sensually tug his headphones off. “I just — just thought you were…”

“Innocent? Oblivious? I may be your girl next door fantasy… or whatever the fuck you Hawkins boys think about me…” You smirk, taking Eddie’s much-larger hands into yours and placing them firmly on your hips. “… but I am not fucking blind… you’ve been acting so off this entire night, must need something to take the edge off, don’t you?”

Fucking Ozzy. He can’t take it. His lips tug into a wince. “That easy, huh?”

Red-handed, you coo. “The easiest.”

“So technically you’re calling me easy, then?” Eddie jokes, heart pounding against his chest as he tenderly digs his fingertips into your love handles.

This is what he’s wanted. This is it. 

And it’s not a fucking dream at all. It’s absolutely heaven. 

Just like heaven.

“Eh, I think it’s endearing. The way you…” He curses under his breath as you lean over and trail your mouth up his jawline, biting his earlobe. “… savor me… savor looking at me. The way you think I don’t notice your stare, when your eyes wander a couple inches down whenever I talk? Oh, you think you’re so slick. I’m not naïve. Why do you think we hang out in your van at night?”

He shudders when your teeth find the cool surface of the guitar pick around his neck. “You’re evil, sweetheart.”

“And you’re horny, but maybe I shouldn’t talk about that.”

“No, definitely…” Eddie laughs nervously, swallowing as he looks down at you. “Definitely not. I’m… fuck, I’m fine. I’m good.”

“Or, maybe I should.” Back and forth banter. It’s natural with you. Too natural, almost like it has always meant to be like this between the eager pair of you. You don’t kiss him, not yet. He can wait. “Acting like a gentleman, like my friend, when in reality you can’t help but think of banging me everytime we see each other?”

“M’sorry, okay? We are friends — fuck, Y/N. Can’t focus… can’t exactly t-talk when you’re on my lap like that.”

Heat pools to his lower stomach, breaths quickening as his hands mindlessly drift down to your upper thighs, squeezing your skin through your little shorts when you grind against him. “Like this? How does it feel? Touching me, feeling me on you like this?”

Eddie’s eyes are dark, almost black in the dim shadows of his van. He looks up at you with the most dilated, entranced look, and you swear it almost makes you break. “Feels… feels so nice. Warm. I just… fuck, I don’t… don’t wanna make you do anything you don’t wanna do… Y/N, goddamnit…”

“I think it’s both clear what we want, no?” You press a kiss to his cheek, running your thumb along the skin beneath his lower lashes. His self-control is slowly diminishing, inch by inch, he feels himself melting in your presence. “I stare, too, just so you know. I stare a lot.”

“Yeah?” Eddie lifts a shaky hand, nervously cupping your jaw and nudging his nose against yours. His voice ghosts your skin, raspy and more of a whimper than a command. “Tell me about it.”

Your mouth hovers over his, lips barely brushing against each other. Touching, touching, touching, only to pull away at the very last second. He can almost just taste the marijuana from your tongue, almost taste the honey dripping from your voice as you peck the corner of his lips. Almost. “I look at your arms, and your really cool tattoos, then I picture… where else you have them on your body…” You gasp into his ear as his hips rut into you, his fingers drawing shapes against the side of your face. “Picture your lips on my chest… kissing me, leaving marks… bruises, hickies, whatever you want, Munson. Your mouth between my — my thighs… tugging on your hair because you’d be so good to me, wouldn’t you?”

“M’want you so bad. You don’t know the half of it.” He whispers, stroking a knuckle across the shadow of your cupid’s bow. “Please… let me… fuck, let me kiss you. Please, Y/N. Want it so bad. Been wanting you ever since summer started. Makin’ me crazy, got me feeling like I’m insane with the way I just… just obsess over us.”

He’s earned it. 

“Like I said, whatever you want.” You grin devilishly.

Eddie’s lips finally collide with yours, erotically wet and far from smooth. It’s incongruous, sweaty skin rubbing against each other and clothes rustling as Eddie sits up, your arms swaddling his lanky frame while you crane your neck to kiss him deeply. His hair is in your mouth, his nose smushed against the side of your face, strained groans slipping from his throat as he traverses down your neck, selfishly licking the divot of your collarbone before his palms are venturing under your camisole. 

“You’re so fucking hot.” He whines, lashes fluttering against your thin bra as he pulls your top over your head. He’s mouthing at the cups, biting at the stringy lace of your push-up before he’s tugging the material down to reveal your nipples. “I just… fuck, I’m just in awe of you. You’re the perfect girl, and I get to have you.” He wraps his lips around the hardened bud, moaning as he alternates between the two and litters your flesh in dark hickies. You fist his hair, caving into his frame. “You’re so sexy. Just… fucking… took the words out of me, leavin’ me speechless… I’ll make you feel so f-fucking good if you let me.”

Your head rolls back as he kisses up the underside of your chin, meeting your lips in a more tender kiss. Your nails trail underneath his Iron Maiden ringer tee, lightly tracing over the raised scars on his abdomen, his belly, skimming over his sparse happy trail and the subtlety of his v-line. “You’re all talk, Eddie… wanna make me feel good?” He nods meekly, the veins in his neck flexing as you stroke his brow bone. “Think you should start by undressing me…”

“Christ, please.”

And without a beat, Eddie’s reaching around you to unclasp your bra, tossing it aside so that it lands over the back of the driver’s seat. He kisses his way down your belly, the little pudge when you sit, only for him to lay you down on your back, clumping up a bunch of jackets to make a pillow for your head. His fingers unbutton your shorts, tugging them down the length of your legs with your panties until they get caught on your Chucks. 

He takes those off too. Quite frankly, chucks the Chucks across the van with a squeaky mutter of ‘goddamn shoes…’  before he’s pocketing a lineup of chunky rings into his jeans.

Eddie’s mouth makes up for the dorky mishap, his lips make haste against your tender calves, biting the squish of your thighs and nudging his nose against the glossy patches of arousal on the inside of your skin. He inhales the scent of your cunt, and you jerk with a moan of surprise as he kisses you there, open and fluttering for him while he lays on his stomach.

He’s never seen such a pretty pussy. It emboldens him, leaves him brazen and aching for more even though it’s the first time he’s ever seen you this naked. Even though he’s barely even had you, he still needs more.

“Need you so bad it hurts.” Eddie growls, looking up at you with a smirk as you gnaw on your bottom lip. “You’re just… fuck, how did you get this wet? God, you’re unreal, baby… let me? Please? Let me… let me eat it… I’ll do anything…”

Let me. Let me. Let me. It’s his mantra. You’d be lying if you deny that it stirs something animalistic within you.

You nod violently, biting down on your forefinger as he props you up against the wall of the van and parts your knees even further before he’s shoving his face into you. Your hands dart straight into his curls again, pulling and tugging until you’re holding him by a wiry ponytail, watching the eager way he suckles at the bundle of nerves just at the apex of your sex. 

Eddie feels like a fucking virgin. Desperate. Impatient. Aggressive. He’s too excited — it displays itself when he slips two digits into your needy slit, taking in how you instantly buck against him. You need him. Need him in the same manner he needs this. His ego fires up as he drives his fingers further, running his tongue over and back and down your clit until your grip on his hair becomes suffocating.

“Having fun down there, h-hm?” You croak. Even with his head buried between your thighs, you’re mischievous, challenging, witty. He’d fuck the brains out of you if he could, but honestly, he isn’t even sure if he could survive one second with his cock in your little fist. “Fuckkk. You’re makin’ me feel so good, Eds…” Your head hits the metal wall, a soft bang that goes unnoticed with all the squelching and creaming as Eddie scissors his fingers. 

“You’re so perfect. You’re so perfect, I love the way you look right now, s’fucking hot… could cum just by watching you.”

“Yeah? Just wait — just fucking wait till I suck you off.”

Eddie can’t wrap his thoughts around it. His tongue, his hands, where he’s buried inside you. He’s wanted this, ever since the start of summer, and he’s here with the girl he thought was untouchable — the perfect girl with a perfect, filthy secret that is him. 

You’re grinding your mound against his mouth, quivering jaw unhinged in the darkness of his large van. His eyes flicker up to your tits, slick with his spit and your own as a dribble of saliva falls from your lips, tainting your skin. 

For once, you aren’t put-together. He’s ripping your façade apart at the seams and leaving nothing to sew back.

“You’re a fucking mess, Y/N… oh, I do this to you?” He’s touching you till you’re vibrating and mewling. He’s lapping every drop of you up, tasting you permanently on his lips as he prods at your clit. “Fuck, honey…” Eddie bites you, hard enough to nurse a bruise on the inside of your thigh. “Please cum for me, yeah? Jus’ look how wet I’ve gotten you, sweetheart… you’re practically — oh, my god… you’re practically gaping… you wanna cum that bad?”

You really can’t help it. Not when he’s cooing at you with that whiny voice, teasing and suggestive as your cunt spasms over his pink knuckles. Your hips rise from the carpet flooring, and Eddie leaves another bite-mark on your stomach as slick trickles out of you. You don’t moan. You don’t scream, nor cry. Just a broken whimper and a restrained, quiet utterance of Eddie’s name beneath your breath. 

Somehow, it makes his cock pulse even harder.

He gently kisses your cunt, running a soothing tongue over the bruises he’s left and the dip in where your hip meets your thigh. “Fuck, that was hot.” He smells the aftermath of your orgasm, really smelling you this time, and it ends up driving him nuts. “Oh, Y/N… your pussy…” You follow his gaze, letting out a lewd sound as Eddie admires the puffiness of your folds, swollen and open from his work. You jolt as soon as he tries to spread you. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry, d-didn’t mean to get so damn rough with you. You tasted so fucking nice, s’all.”

“No, I…” You brush his hair away from his face, pushing his bangs aside as he sits up and wedges himself between your knees. “I love rough. I can take it. I can take this.” Your other hand palms him through his jeans, before you’re dipping yourself beneath his waistband, hairs prickling at your skin as you grasp him. “Do you want me to be rough with you, Eds? Because I just… I really, really want your cock, and I… I dunno if I can hold myself back…”

“Oh, you little slut.” He gasps brazenly as you pull his shirt off, eyes wide at your sudden conviction for him, “Take it. Take me, Y/N. I’m all yours, whatever you fucking want.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, baby.”

You smirk, helping him kick off his jeans and boxers. Your cunt pathetically gapes for him once he’s bare, contracting around nothingness as Eddie takes your place against the wall. He leans back, and you just stare — drinking him in the same way he drinks you in. Your puffy nipples, still damp from his spit, your darkened neck a testament to his artistry, your mouth parting in awe as you fit his erect cock into your hand. Barely.

He’s big — lengthwise, and it curves heavily in your grasp as you lean down to pop him between your lips. Eddie nearly knees you, palms flying to cover his face as he desperately cries your name. “Y/N… oh, f-fucking… oh, Jesus…” You rake your nails up and down his thighs, licking a stripe up his manhood as you play with his sopping tip.

You chuckle in amusement around him, “Such a leaky cock. You like that, Eds? Mmm, you messy boy. All this pre-cum and I’ve… aw, I’ve barely touched you. Tell me what feels good, ‘kay?”

“S’all of it… all of it is — it’s good… fuck, words are so… words…” He melts even more as you sheathe him into your mouth, stuttering as he feels you hold back a gag. Your whole body convulses, back arching upwards as Eddie watches you take and take and take. “Oh, Y-Y/N… you just keep — keep getting better and better. Holy shit.” His belly aches with desire, tightening with each bob of your head and every seductive blink of your eyes. “You’re gorgeous. Thought about you.. whenever you’d — mmm, whenever you’d lay out on that darn lawn, what if I took you right there? What if I just… fucked you on that grass…”

“You and your dirty mouth, Munson.” You glare up at him in feigned annoyance, jerking his shaft with fast, purposeful movements. “I think it’s funny… how you pretend like you’re such a nice guy when really, you’re only a perv for me.”

“So what? Are you gonna punish me?” He challenges beadily, tongue poking out between gritted teeth like he could win this fight. “Or are you gonna fuck me, pretty girl?”

And just like that, the air changes. He feels the shift, the veil that falls over your eyes, nothing but sex and his scent running in your mind.

“No, Eds.” You move to straddle his thigh; your bare cunt dragging against his scarred skin. “I’m gonna make you beg.” 

You take him into your fist again, stroking him between the generous suction of your lips and the sweep of your tongue. He tastes good to your surprise, and then you’re creating a pool of spit that trickles from his abdomen to his balls. 

Messy girl. “Christ, Y/N.”

You release him with an erotic pop! — there’s stringy saliva connecting you to the crown of his cock, your throat is raw, his dick impatient, twitchy and excited. “You wanna fuck me so bad, you can’t even think straight. Look at my hand right now, look how tiny it looks when I hold you…” You grind yourself against his knee, groaning with him as you quicken your pace. Your brows furrow, a wicked grin ghosting itself over your features. “Baby, are you going to cum already?”

“Y/N, don’t s-stop. I’m beggin’ you, please…”

“Oh, you’re begging? This is what you call begging?”

“Please, s’too hard.”

“Too hard? What’s too hard? Me not letting you cum, or…” You give him one good jerk, twisting your fist so that your thumb brushes over his white-coated tip. “… your cock? Because you’re awfully, awfully rock hard right now. I bet it hurts doesn’t it, my love?” My love. His eyes gloss over. Your mouth hugs the shell of his ear. “You wanna cum?”

“Y-Yes…” He near-whimpers. Desperate. “Wanna cum so badly.”

“No.”

You release him for what feels like the hundredth time tonight. His climax dwindles back to square one, and his leg thrashes out in dismay. There’s sweat beading down your forehead, drops forming on Eddie’s brow bone as he scowls at you. 

You kiss him, almost like an apology, but Eddie can tell you’re not sorry. Far from it. You enjoy this, enjoy getting him off just to start over and make him beg. Is it so sick that he likes it? The more you stretch this interaction out, the more he gets to touch you. Like now, as you swing your knees on either side of him, his palm gingerly clasping the nape of your neck as he presses your face to his.  

“Let me fuck you? Let me be inside?” He pleads, nudging his nose against yours in anguished yearning. He drags his hand over your cheek, enveloping your jaw with outstretched fingers. “Just wanna bury myself inside you and stay there. Don’t even wanna cum anymore, I promise. I promise I’ll fuck you so good, m’not pathetic like the other guys… wanna feel you jus’ dripping on me, Y/N.”

You don’t answer, just gasp into his parted mouth as you line each other up. The angry head of his cock catches on your swell, snagging your clit before his tip lodges itself inside you and he — quite literally — goes rigid. You curse, slowly sinking down his length until your pussy refuses to take more. 

“You’re s-so big.”

Eddie feels like he’s going to fucking burst. “Sweetheart,” He pants, panicked and frenzied as you squeeze around him. Your head lolls onto his shoulder, arms thrown around his body as he tangles his slender fingers into your scalp and pulls you impossibly closer to his chest. “Sweetheart, I can feel every p-part of you… you’re so — fuck, just like that, you wet messy thing.” He whines, the curve of your ass coming down against his lap as you keenly bounce on his cock. He meets you with gentle thrusts, your cunt already milking him thin. “Look at you, fuck, you’re loving this.”

“E-Eddie…” Your tits are squished against his pecs, his necklace sandwiching itself between your damp skin. “More. More. Give it…”

“You can’t take it, baby. I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“I can take it. I can. It’s not enough, I’m telling you.” You rut your hips stubbornly, guiding his palms to your waist before he’s carefully rolling you onto your side and hiking your calf over the tender slope of his shoulder. “S’not nearly enough, Eds.”

“Okay.” He breathes out, inhaling deeply as he slips himself deeper inside you. The stretch stings harshly, flashes of white prickling at the cones of your vision as he splits you raw and wide open. “Is this enough? You fuckin’… god, you perfect whore…” Your spine tingles as Eddie tugs you closer by the hip, ramming himself into you relentlessly. “… such perfect tits, a perfect leaky cunt…” He presses a kiss to your ankle, before flipping you onto your knees so that he can fuck you from behind. He wants to see you, see you flutter for him, feed his sick thoughts and relive the nights where he jerked himself off in this very van in empty parking lots to the idea of you. “… and this perfect ass… another hole waiting to be used, right, Y/N? You’d let me use it, wouldn’t you? If I’m nice enough, I bet you’d let me fuck it…”

Fucking hell.

You cum as soon as he dips the pad of his thumb against the responsive ring of muscle. You both grow feral at the sensation. Soaked. Pussy chafed raw from his cock. You can’t tell whose fluids are whose, if it’s Eddie’s spit or yours, if it’s your juices or his — the embarrassing manner in which your cunt just sucks him in, the tight walls of your ass fluttering around his gentle finger as he drives into you.

How is the van still upright? Eddie doesn’t know. 

He’s an Ozzy clusterfuck of strangled, broken sounds and you’re a broken record player of Eddie-Eddie-Eds-Please, I’m cumming!

He doesn’t stop. Even when you’re shaking and bent-half in now missionary, he sheathes himself inside you till his pelvic bone is crushed to your body. “You feel so good, I’m sorry… I can’t — can’t stop, baby…”

“Don’t. Don’t stop, it’s a-alright.” You heave out, interlocking fingers as his glistening cock disappears into your used cunt. “It’s a l-lot, but it’s okay.” Eddie’s body engulfs you, your heels digging into the dimples in his lower back as he pounds into you. “You’re such a good — good boy, fuck…”

“Yeah?” He bites your throat. “Say.” The under-swell of your boob. “It.” Your arm. “Again.”

“Good boy. Such a good boy, fucking me the way I deserve.”

“Fucking you like you’re a slut.”

“Fucking me like I’m not the girl next door…” You chuckle, breathy and airy before he knocks the wind right out of you. “The whole town is gonna call me a w-whore for once.”

“Suits you better.”

You swear your soul leaves your body. You’re dying. You are dead, nearly limp in his fumbling boyish hands as he cradles your head against his chest and wipes the sweat from your eyes like he loves you. His balls slap against your loosened rim, his thumb putting pressure on your clit until you’re frantically pushing him away. 

“I can’t cum again. I can’t.” You sob in pleasure, clawing at his tattoos as if they could save you from his insatiable hunger. “Eddie!”

“Need it, need your cum again, Y/N.” Eddie growls, thrusts stuttering and cock pulsating wildly before he’s spitting onto your sex as if you needed to be any more wet. “I-I think you’re so… so fucking cool, you’re just… you’re too good for me, but I fucking adore you.”

I adore you.

I adore you.

You can’t even talk anymore, vocal chords ripped right out of your throat as your stomach cramps, cramps, cramps and then drops to a low point. Crashing. Flatlining. Clenching hopelessly.

You nearly choke Eddie as a hand flies out to touch him, pulling him close as your walls trap him for a second time. Only now, he’s locked in tight, unable to move, unable to go anywhere and he fucking cums immediately because it’s just too inviting. You feel him seeping out of you, painting your holes with his sticky cum as he stills there like a good boy. He grunts against your lips, kissing you poorly as his orgasm eats him alive. 

He’s milked. Spent. 

Eddie collapses on top of you, one leg jutted straight and the other bent as he embraces you close with his whole weight resting on your frame. How can he already miss something he just had? Gaining your strength, you kiss down his shoulder, fingertips swirling over muscle and scar tissue and ink as the smell of him floors you.

It’s so Eddie. Woody, earthy, with a spicy fresh top note reminiscent of oak moss and a hint of gasoline, dry cedar and herbs. It makes you dizzy in the best way possible. He’s drenched in the girlish smell of sex, sweat and salty but you’re eager to taste him anyways.

My good boy, you think. 

“Are you okay?” Your voice comes out raspy and winded, almost sickly but Eddie knows it's a good-sick. 

“Yes, yeah. I just… need a sec.”

“Hm, don’t take too long, Munson.” Shit. Is this over already? Just like that? “Might get wet again.”

Oh. It’s a joke. 

And he laughs, wheezy and exhausted as he irritatedly tugs his own hair out of his mouth. “You’re gonna be the death of me, ma’am.” He leans back on his hinges to properly look at you, your cheeks rubbed red-raw from his teeth and your abused, achy cunt still stuffed full of his prick. “Are you okay?”

“I’m alive.”

“Barely.”

“Barely.” You repeat heartily, shaking your head at him with a look of bewilderment. “S’gonna hurt when you pull out, you know.”

“Are you telling me to stay here forever?”

“If you admit that you like The Cure, then yes…” You bite your lip, drumming your fingers against his wrist. “… I’ll let you stay there forever.”

Forever. You both push down the giddy, cheesy smiles that threaten to spread across your faces. 

“Never. Never ever.” Eddie chuckles. When he tenderly and patiently pulls out, a wet rush slowly floods out of you, his fingers frantically plug you shut — his thick, translucent cum dripping from his knuckles as he selfishly fucks his hot spill back into you like the perv he is. “But that can stay there forever.”

A freak, but not in the way Hawkins thinks.

You melt at the feeling, limbs spasming awkwardly as he spreads himself over your pussy distractedly. His eyes are so goddamn soft, kind, attentive — even when he’s pushing some of it into your poor asshole, he’s still the sweetest guy you’ve ever hooked up with. 

He kisses your clit before he lovingly hikes your panties up your legs. 

Fucker.

“Did I ruin you, sweetheart? Awfully quiet.”

You scoff, shimmying into your shorts and camisole as Eddie tucks himself back into his boxers. “Just wondering how you expect me to climb back into my window after all that.”

“Who said anything about climbing…” He laughs boisterously, leaning over and fixing the strap of your bra. “What do you say I walk you to the porch, ring that bell and introduce myself to mom and pop?”

You stare at him like he’s crazy.

“Absolutely not, Eddie Munson.”

He finds himself liking the suburbs a lot more.

Only this time, he doesn’t imagine himself surrounded by picket fences and golden retrievers, mailboxes with his last name painted in unreadable cursive or having to mow his front lawn at seven in the fucking morning. 

Eddie doesn’t need to when Hawkins’ slice of paradise is just next door. 

And he gets to taste it every fucking day and night. 

So, fuck it. He’ll climb your window so you don’t have to wobble back to your house with his cum dripping down your leg. He’s a gentleman, railing you in the abandoned parking lot of Starcourt because you can’t handle the embarrassment of getting caught by someone at home. He’ll cover your mouth in the shed in your backyard so the neighbors don’t complain about the howling coyotes that have gone loose in the neighborhood. 

God forbid they have coyotes, right? 

But really, they should be worrying about the devastatingly gorgeous girl next door and her favorite, good boy with a dwindling hatred for The Cure.

Even though, the album is growing on him.

He’ll never admit that, though.

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walk me home (tmnt x gender neutral!reader)

haven’t written for the guys in a while and i’m a sucker for hurt/comfort, so here’s the result!

also, this one’s a little hard to tag because you can honestly interpret it however you wish - purely platonic, implications of romance with your favorite turtle, poly!turtles, whatever. enjoy!

You’re kidnapped by the Foot Clan on a sunny Saturday afternoon. 

Snatched off the street, stuffed in an unmarked van and blindfolded, you quickly lose track of where they’re taking you, and your only attempt to glean some information is swiftly discouraged by a fist to your jaw. 

You lose track of time from there, the only information available to you restricted to what you can hear, smell, and feel: the astringent scent of chemicals, the voices of your captors barking orders at each other, the cold concrete of the holding cell you’re tossed into and the scratch of the rope binding your wrists.

Your jaw hurts, the chill of your makeshift cell sinks into your bones and leaves you shivering, but you’re not afraid. Not really. You know the boys will come for you. 

Keep reading

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𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭

𖦹 summary: continuation of we leavin.

𖦹 content warning: connie x fem!reader. reader is black-coded. mentions of dumbification. connie has a papi kink.

𖦹 translations: buena chica/good girl

𖦹 word count: 480.

authors note: i feel horrible ab this chi😭 but y’all asked, so i delivered. its quite a quick read so enjoy. and also thank yall for all the love. so so so grateful. te amo!

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“you gon’ listen next time, baby? huh?”

you only nodded in response, the words being taken out of your mouth due to the ecstasy sizzling through your nerves. right after leaving the party, connie didn’t say a word. not on the way to the car, not in the car, and not during the drive home. it pushed a sense of slight fear into you, given he’d never been this silent before. however, when you both got into the house, he said a singular sentence that made you regret pushing your luck at the party.

“im’a show you how to watch ya’ mouth.”

and that’s exactly how you ended up at the edge of the bed, knees beside your head, in nothing but in your black, lace panties that were pulled to the side as connie drove his dick through you like moses when he parted the red sea. he was bowed over you, your sweaty foreheads touching while he gave you your life. your hands were going numb from how tight they gripped onto the sheets below you, having a fistful of some in each hand.

“tell me, ma.” connie repeated, not falling clueless to the way your lips were parted, and eyes almost crossing from how good he was making you feel. you couldn’t even moan properly. just grunts, groans, and heavy pants to express your pleasure.

you wanted to hear him. you wanted to respond. but anytime you tried, he’d hit that one spot inside of your walls that would send you into a state of inexplicable bliss again. connie’s hands were currently interlocked behind your head to keep it from falling back into the mattress, but he moved one in favor of grabbing your jaw with it. his thrusts slowed down from the once fast pace they were at, but became more harsh.

“say it, baby. use ya’ words.” connie coo’ed, the sound of his balls slapping against the fat of your ass in even intervals as he fed you each thrust.

“uh-huhh.“ you nodded, still not being able to put words together. the pace he was going dumbed you up even more, and he could tell too, by the slight squelch of every time he stuffed you, along with your pussy squeezing around him. though, your response still didn’t satisfy him.

“words, i said. i don’t speak in noises.” connie sped back up, in an attempt to snatch an answer from you. with this, he did.

“fuckyess- im’a listen, con-“ you said, but quite incoherently.

“who?” connie stopped completely. you immediately realized your mistake. “fix that.” he said, to which you obliged.

“im’a listen, papi..” you looked up at him with watery eyes. your vision blurred from said water as he started up again, somehow hitting an angle that you didn’t even know existed, snatching your soul from you completely.

“buena chica. now, cum fa’ papi.”

—

ok but 21st century vampires 

they go out twenty minutes after sundown and set their phone alarms for half an hour before sunrise so they can cinderella it out of the club

instead of sleeping in coffins all day they marathon shows on netflix or blog or do makeup tutorials on youtube 

and ok, so many more job opportunities like

web design or extra cash from accounts on etsy or whatever

creatives who can make a profit from their work by selling it online

airplanes staffed by a coven who only ever take flights which take off and land in the dark, the pilot switching off to his co-pilot just before daybreak

every undesirable night shift in diners and gas stations and transport

night time road work crews

they bulk buy coconut water because its similar enough to blood plasma that they can cut back on real blood

transferring their raw wealth into real estate investments and inheriting the properties from themselves every few decades

tech savvy vamps who make a career out of helping others forge identities and stay off the grid without encumbering their real world interactions

using the internet to get in touch with others when you first turn

international covens keeping in touch via social media outlets

intra-covens activities organized via facebook events  

treaties sorted over skype calls

Anything For You - Yandere!Yuta X Chubby!Reader

Yandere AU

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Smut (Very Passionate, Much Desire)

Pairing: Yuta X Reader

Words: 23,040

Warnings: Minor Fatphobia, Self-Esteem Issues, a long ass rant about beauty standards, mentions of mental health and a brief mention of suicide (in passing, really), a few instances that could be interpreted as eating disorders. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: I am both super excited and nervous about this one! I will say, I am really proud with how this one turned out, and as this is the third time I am writing this post out, I really hope it works this time lol. I do apologize for taking so long to post, it turned out way longer than I anticipated, but I think it’s well worth the wait. I do not think Yuta would ever act like this, this is just my interpretation of the archetype (and also a very self indulgent fic). As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!~

Disclaimer: Everyone has their own definition of what they consider to be chubby. As a chubby person myself, I kept this in mind while writing, and did my best not to incorporate specific markers on the OC’s appearance. Just know that while there aren’t many explicit physical markers of the how chubby the reader is (other than the mention of plush thighs once, I think), this fic is meant to be read with the intention that the reader is chubby. Does this mean you cannot read this fic if you are not chubby or do not consider yourself chubby? Of course not!! I just thought that this was important to let you know. I also 1000% do not condone yandere behaviour.

This one is for the ones who feel like they cannot fit into a certain ideal or beauty standard society has deemed the norm. This one is for the ones that have felt, or continue to feel unworthy or deserving of love because of their weight, and/or how they look. This is for anyone who needs it.

This one’s for me.

Keep reading

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