#i would get one on my head but its gonna be a long time before i shave my head again

[luvfy0dor]

“Your Handprint's on my Soul ♡⁠˖” BSD men x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

╰┈➤ Osamu Dazai, Chuuya Nakahara, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Nikolai Gogol

warnings; established relationship (Fyodor only), first interactions, kisses, Dazais can be platonic or romantic

description; aus/tropes with BSD characters, inspired loosley by my old post about book types/tropes

A/n; CHAT IM SPEEDRUNNING THIS AS I WRITE THE A/N IM ONLY 2/3 OF THE WAY DONE W NIKOLAIS AND NO ONE ELSE IS DONE EXCWPT DAZAIS BULLET POINT AND ITS 2 HRS TILL POST TIME GOTTA LOCK IN ALSO TYSM FOR 700 💖💖💖

⑅ Osamu Dazai ⑅

• There was only one bed when Dazai appeared on your doorstep one evening. You don't know where he came from and he wouldn't tell you, but he would certainly tell you he wasn't letting you sleep anywhere but the bed, even if you wouldnt allow him to either.

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'Knock knock knock' was the first thing you heard when you woke from your slumber in the middle of the night. You felt a little unsettled, but still tiptoed out of bed to the door, peering through the peephole only to see the big head of your coworker and friend on the other side of the door. You huffed and unlocked the deadbolt and opened up. "What are you doing here this late at night?" You asked, rubbing your right eye with the palm of your hand and yawning. "Oh, nothing much, just here for a stroll! It's been quite the long time no see, no?" He says, letting himself in and taking off his shoes at the door. "I saw you..." You peered over at the digital clock on your nightstand table down the hallway. "Like, 7 hours ago. And you texted me 3." You sigh and pull up your pajama pants. "Can I sleepover?" Your brows furrowed at his question.

"Can you sleepover- Osamu, we have work in the morning and- ugh, you know what, yeah, you're already here and it's raining, isn't it? How are you completely dry? I...I have so many questions that I'm not gonna ask right now. You can sleep in my bed, just don't touch anything else in my room, especially nothing in or on my nightstand, got it?" He shook his head and steered you towards your room with his hands on your shoulders. "Oh no, that'd be rude of me to take your bed! I'll take the couch." You shook your head and yanked him gently by the wrist. "No, you're taking the bed-" "why don't we both take the bed?" You were silent for a moment. "Yeah, sure, I don't want to keep going back and forth with this." You say with a sleepy shrug. He walked in front of you to your bedroom like he lived here on the regular and tossed his coat aside. You crawled back into the bed, pulling the covers up to your nose and feeling the bed dip beside you when Dazai crawled in too. He also took his fair share of the blankets, but you soon realized that Dazai was a blanket hog. "Oh my gosh, I'm gonna kick you if y'dont stop stealin' all the blanket!" You groan, yanking the soft material back towards you. "I am not stealing all the blanket, you're very dramatic." He says, rolling over and scooching closer so that he can still be completely covered by the blanket without yanking it back. Each time you moved, you bunched up more of the blanket and pulled it closer to yourself, leaving Dazai uncovered from his right foot to his knee. "And you call me a blanket hog." He starts to steal some of the comforter back, but you toss it over him and roll over to press your front against his, cuddling him. "You come to my house unannounced and steal my blankets..you can just be another source of heat if you wanna act like this." You sleepily say, eyes still closed as you slur out your words. His face was one of surprise for a moment before it melted into a smile. He put a hand on your head and pulled you closer. "And you know what? That's fine with me."

⑅ Chuuya Nakahara ⑅

• Chuuya reminds me of that one soulmate au where whenever you get marks on your skin, they appear on your soulmates too. Small scars, ink scribbles, and bruises would often appear on Chuuyas, but never because of his own doing.

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Earlier in the morning, Chuuya had noticed a new doodle on his forearm, this time it was one of a cat. Usually it was partially colored-in hearts or imperfect stars, but he always found other drawings of yours to be more amusing. He was currently relaxing on his couch after a long day of work, shoes kicked off and pajamas put on. He'd gotten bored of whatever nonsense he was watching on the TV and decided to examine the kitty on his arm a little more before picking up a pen and deciding to draw one next to it with a little heart in between them. He rolled his eyes at himself, Chuuya Nakahara, the best martial artist in Yokohama and port mafia executive was doodling kitty cats and hearts on his own arm to appease some soulmate he didnt even know. He sighed and leaned back again. It didn't take long for you to notice and quickly scribble a reply that read "Wow, finally. [poorly drawn eye roll emoji] took you long enough to actually interact w/ me! Started to think I didn't have a soulmate." You felt giddy over the whole thing. Yeah, it was stupid, but he drew a cat in love with the cat that you drew! This was the interaction that you had been waiting for since middle school when all the other kids were writing back and forth with their soulmates so much that they'd make frequent trips to the bathroom to wash off old pen ink since they had no phones to text with yet. Teachers hated it, but everyone was already willing to put their education on the back burner for these, essentially, randos. Not Chuuya, though. Chuuya never liked writing on his skin, the way the ballpoint dragged across his pale flesh made him shiver, and so he never replied to you. His focus on other goals also contributed to that ignorance.

After many years though, he finally decided to entertain the whole idea. Chuuya didn't care about who his soulmate was, if he found someone that wasn't them and he loved them, then that was that. He didn't think the universe should decide the only person he could truly be with, so he dated on his own accord. He checked his arm for your reply as if he was checking a watch and he watched the ink appear on his arm, letter by letter and stroke by stroke. He smiled a little and grabbed his pen again. "I never really cared to, no offense." You scoffed when you read that, crossing out the no. "Full offense taken. Anyways, where you from?" He thought on whether or not he really wanted to tell you, so he decided to play it safe. "I'm not telling you that immediately, what are ya, crazy? How old are you?" The number 21 quickly appeared. "And your name?" You started writing out letters, but the ink quickly faded. Chuuya raised an eyebrow and went to write out a couple stray question marks, but the writing came back in a different color. The ink was blue this time. "Y/n." "Okay, y/n, not that you couldn't be lying, I live in Yokohama, Japan. Can I get your number to make this easier?" You smiled and fist pumped. "Yeah, it's ---/---/----." You received a message about four minutes later. "This is better, I have work in the morning and I don't want to have to scrub off any more ink than this tomorrow." You laid in bed, perpendicular to the mattress with your arms hanging off the edge of the bed as you typed out a reply. Your conversation went on for another hour getting to know eachother before he told you that it'd be best for him to go to bed. You wished him a goodnight and he did the same. You knew it'd take a while to build a strong friendship and maybe even relationship, but the thought made you excited nonetheless.

⑅ Fyodor Dostoevsky ⑅

• When I think of my own highschool academic greatness (I'm failing algebra2/trig) I think of Fyodors geniusness and how much highschool/college aus remind me of him. I don't know if he'd try to juggle a relationship and school, but if he did he'd help you be the best student possible while securing that valedictorian title for himself.

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Fyodors slim hand gripped his pencil loosely and moved it acrossed the paper he was given for a written assignment. His hair was pulled back in a super small pony tail and his eyes flickered over to the clock every now and again, waiting for the bell to ring with each passing second. He promised to meet you in the library during lunch to study for your AP Bio test you had coming up at the end of the week. He never minded helping you study, it'd help him retain the knowledge anyways. Finally, the familiar 'ding' sounded throughout the school and he packed up his stuff and left. He walked through the hallways and down the stairs to the library where you were already waiting for him. You smiled and waved him over, opening your school-loaned laptop. "Hey Fedya. I know we always spend lunches together but like, thank you for helping me, I'd be screwed otherwise." You say with a small laugh. He smiles and sits down next to you. "No problem, I don't mind, I did really well in that class anyways." He said while watching you type in your password and pull up an assignment. "Yeah, it's just about- oh! You kept the ponytail in?" You asked him with a smile. You had put his hair up that morning while waiting for the first bell. "Ofcourse I did. It keeps my neck cool." He tells you, tracing shapes on the small of your back with his thumb as he read over the assignment. "This is easy, Myshka, what's the trouble?" "I can't grasp ecology." You say, feeling yourself start to nod off. He raises an eyebrow and hums. "Well, do you sleep during your class like this?" He grins a little. You hum in denial and open your eyes again, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. "No, I just stayed up late last night cramming and stuff..." You say, resting your head against your fist. "Well that's probably why you're having trouble, you work when you should be sleeping."

You knew he was right, you had other classes that you were doing work for and you had put AP Bio on the back burner because you, a) didn't want to do it, b) didn't think you could do it, and c) saw that you'd feel more successful seeing all those 0's in other classes turn into grades. "I know, I know." You groaned. "But maybe we can just get this one done quick since my laptop is already open." You reaffirm and lean your head on his shoulder. He nods and re-reads the question before asking you what answer you'd pick first and why. You told him and he told you if you were right or wrong, briefly explaining why you were incorrect if that was the case. You were only 5 questions in before Fyodor realized you weren't answering him. He looked to his side and realized you had fallen asleep on his shoulder. He smiled and closed your laptop for you and let you sleep against him for a little while, knowing he'd finish it with you later, very determined to help you get all of your work finally done so you could relax. You clearly needed it.

⑅ Nikolai Gogol ⑅

• Nikolai would be a great, flirty barista, which is why I think coffee shop au would be perfect for him. His ability would be of great use winning over a couple cents in tips as well as your heart.

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When you walked into your favorite, local coffee shop, the first thing you noticed was an unfamiliar face behind the counter. A tall man with long, braided white hair stood with a shaker in hand, clearly working hard to perfect s customers drink order. His eyes literally up when he saw you walking towards the counter, quickly pouring the liquid into a scribbled-on cup and capping it. "I'll be with you on one minute!" He says with a toothy grin, handing the drink to the lady waiting on the far side of the shop. He quickly returns to the cash register to take your order. "Hey! How can I help you?" He asks you and straightens out his apron. "Hi, uhm, can I have a (favorite drink), please?" He punched some stuff into the cash register and the visible screen in front of you showed you your total. "Anything else?" His eyes stared back into your own, making your heart race in your chest when you noticed just how beautiful he was. His differently pigmented eyes and sharp jawline along with the way his pointed teeth flashed when he smiled had your cheeks heating up pretty quickly. Not to mention his hair and physique.

As he was about to point out your staring with a cheeky expression, you muttered a 'yes.' He nodded. "Okay, your total is $4.20." You pulled out the first bill that wasn't a $1 from your wallet and handed it to him, Nikolais eyebrows raising when you put a $20 in his hands, but he stuck it in the register and counted up your change. "Okay, $15.80 is your change, can I get a name?" He asked you while giving you your change before grabbing a cup and sharpie. "Y/n." You quickly said, dropping all of the $15.20 in the top jar. "Ohhhh, wow! Y/n might as well take me on a date with a tip that big~!." He giggles and turns to make your drink for you while you wait with a warm face and stomach full of butterflies. "I don't think I'd mind taking you out on one." You say with a sense of confidence. "Hm, I might have to take you up on that." It's not long before he has your drink made, using a glowy portal to grab the sharpie on the counter relatively far away and scribbling something in your cup again. "Alright, here ya go! Have a good one!" He hands the drink to you, smiling a little bit when he feels your hand brush against as you take it from him. "Thank you, you too." You call back, turning around and walking away. Once you're out of the café, you rotate the cup 360° to figure out what he wrote on it, only to find ten digits acrossed the plastic. You smiled and your heartbeat picks up ten fold. You make sure to take a picture of it in a good lighting to ensure the visibility of all of the numbers, you might just have to arrange a date with him now.

A/n; AHHHHHHHHHHHH next time event post <3

[intromortal]

hii nia!! could u do something w needy jungwon and reader on her period? whatever it comes to ur mind abt that! <3

04:39 — needy!won and reader on her period

warning: mdni, well period obv, spitting in mouth, fingering

wc: 1k

You glared at Jungwon and slapped his hand away from your thigh for what felt like the hundredth time that evening.

You did not understand what had come over him ever since the day before, you had never seen him be as needy and desperate to just get his hands in your pants as he was in that moment.

Since you were on your period you told him you would gladly take care of his needs, after all pleasuring him was something you loved doing but of course you hadn't accounted for the fact that there was nothing on Earth that got Jungwon off like seeing you shake underneath his touch. An orgasm he got that he could not reciprocate, was an orgasm wasted in his mind.

“Please? Just wanna make you feel good angel,” he whispered against the sensitive skin of your neck, his teeth nibbling on it occasionally.

“I already told you I’m on my period,” you sighed, your resolve starting to crumble as his soft lips trailed up to your ear, his warm hand going back to its rightful place on your thigh.

“Don’t care,” he said before licking a long strip on your neck. “Want you to come all over my fingers anyway.”

His words sent hot jolts of need right to your cunt, you were always needier during this time and the soft circles he was drawing on your skin only made your head spin even more.

“What—” you took a deeper breath, conscious of how to word your thoughts. “What if it disgusts you?”

You felt him draw back from you immediately, his breath caught in his throat and anxiety pooling in his stomach at your words. He cradled your face in his soft palms, his eyes searching for yours.

“Why would it disgust me?” he asked, a confused edge in his tone.

“Huh— you know, it is a little nasty if you thin—”

He interrupted your sentence right away, voice almost stern as he spoke, “Nothing, not one thing, about you is gonna disgust me. Ever.”

You stared into his eyes for a moment to make sure he meant what he said before slightly nodding your head, the gesture prompting him to kiss you.

His lips were slow on yours at first, his little smiles tender between pecks.

That didn't last long, the air in the room hotter when he suddenly grabbed you by your hips and removed your shorts and panties, discarding them on the floor absentmindedly. You yelped in surprise and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, hot tongue sliding into your mouth to sensually lap at yours.

The way he kissed you so slowly sent electric jolts coursing through your body, and any worry you had about your period left your mind as he worked his hands all over your curves.

He placed you on his lap, facing away from him, and pushed your legs open to get easier access to your pretty cunt, a hum of delight leaving his lips when you were finally all spread out for him.

He went to slide two fingers into his mouth to wet them but you let out a noise of protest, his head turning to you with a lopsided smirk adorning his features.

“Almost forgot how messy my sweet little angel is,” he mumbled adoringly in the crown of your hair. He instantly knew what you wanted and without missing a beat he cupped your face. He gathered some spit and let it dribble in your mouth, some of it dripping to your lips. He promptly collected it with his fingers before pushing them to rest against your tongue, the mixture of your spit coating them.

He brought the fingers down to your mound and slid them between your folds a few times, his mouth hanging open in a silent moan as he felt your blood smear on his fingers, fascinated with the sight.

“Thank you for letting me do this baby,” he whispered as his eyes were glued to your pussy. “So hot.”

He slid his fingers in finally, and you threw your head back against his broad shoulders in ecstasy, hips immediately trying to take in more.

“So greedy too,” he teased. “To think you were acting so shy just earlier.”

You whined in his hold, desperate to have him move faster. “Please Won, more.”

He chuckled darkly before angling your inner thighs upwards, his attack on your neck resuming. This time his kisses open mouthed, the wetness of his tongue on your skin making you squirm in his lap. He set a faster pace, his brows knitted as his cock strained against his pants at the obscene sounds both you and your cunt were making. The angle at which he was finger fucking you made it so his palm slapped against your puffy clit with every single flick of his wrist, the continuous little hits making you shake against him. You caught your bottom lip between your teeth to silence your moans, and Jungwon did not like that.

He gave a few harsh slaps on your inner thighs with his other hand that made you yelp, the sting somehow still sending pleasure cursing through you.

“I wanna hear all of your sweet noises baby.” His thrusts slowed down but deepened, his thumb finding your clit in delicious circles. You babbled against the side of his neck, pleasure too overwhelming to form any coherent thought.

Tears started to cloud your vision and toes curled when his fingers found the spot deep inside you that always had you seeing stars, sending you straight over the edge, white searing pleasure crashing down on you.

“That’s it angel, so good for me,” Jungwon sweetly mumbled next to your ear, his fingers riding you gently through your orgasm.

You swatted his hand away when his touch got too much for your oversensitive cunt, small noises of complaint making him chuckle against your skin. He relented, drawing his hand back and finding himself enamored with the sight of his digits dripping in both your essence and blood.

He noticed you getting up with shaky legs to retrieve your shorts and immediately grabbed your forearm, making you fall into his lap once more.

He gently lapped at your lobe, grazing it with his teeth, “What do you think you’re doing?” he whispered, his breath raising goosebumps all over you. “We are far from being done, my angel,” he said, his grip on your thigh almost painful, the blood that soaked his hand smearing everywhere on your skin.

a/n: idk if i like this anonnie i'm sorry if it's not up to standard☹️ i wasn't gonna write this yet but i needed to write smth that's not not enough omfg anyone that talks to me out to tumblr knows how bad that has been kicking my ass

[annewithaneofthegreengable]

Mr Long Legs and Ms Pocket Size

Summary: Toto loves that his girlfriend has to cling to him like a koala whenever she wants to kiss him. OR how Y/n has to constantly pull off the highest heels just to stand next to her “giant” boyfriend.

A/N: I will add a small smau right below so stay tuned u guys!

Toto and his girlfriend, who he lovingly calls his 'short stack,' wake up every day with a smile on their faces. They start their day with a kiss, normally she would have to hold onto him just to give him a peck on the lip. As they go about their morning routine, Toto can't help but grin as he watches her attempt to reach things on high shelves, which is often caused by him because he often teases her by placing things on the top shelf that are out of her reach, knowing she would have to call him for the help. 

“Damn you and your heights, who would put their everyday mugs on the highest place on the cupboard!”

“It’s not that high, Schatz. Look! It’s very much reachable. Well, compared to my size of course. Here you go.”

“New information, in case you don’t know… I am not your size”

“I’m pretty much aware of that, you are rather pocket-size, Liebe.”

His girlfriend playfully rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest.

"You know very well I'm not as tall as you, you oversized giant," she said with a hint of amusement. 

"But I guess being so towering has its downside. You're constantly losing things behind the cabinets and on top of the fridge. I suppose height isn't everything." Toto chuckled, wrapping his arm around her waist. 

"Height has its benefits, especially when it comes to pulling pranks on my short stack girl," he said while kissing her neck.

“Have you grown? Liebe.”

“Just for today, so pretty much yes.” Y/n grins then lifts her shoe high enough to reveal heels that make Toto’s jaw drop a little before he begins laughing hysterically. 

“Gotta pull off these bad bitches right here so that the press can take a picture with both of us without cutting your legs out of the frame.”

“There’s no way you’re gonna survive the whole day with those on.”

“Watch me! Toto.”

“Please! For the sake of me, just wear something flatter, like trainers, or your flats.”

“Nope.” She said with the sound pop “p”. 

Y/n is well aware that Toto enjoys the benefits of such a height gap, but it's enjoyable to tease him about being able to close the space on occasion.

"Shall we go?" Y/n asks making Toto sigh looking down at her feet again before nodding.

“If you ever feel any sort of discomfort please come to me right away. Yes? Liebe”

“Alright, Mr Long Legs”

Y/n confidently struts towards the door with Toto trailing behind her. As they step inside the paddock, they are immediately greeted by a swarm of press and fans clamouring to catch a glimpse of the famous couple. Toto watches in amazement as Y/n effortlessly strikes a series of poses, her confidence and poise perfectly fitting the larger-than-life persona she had adopted for the day. Despite her high heels, she didn't falter and instead embraced the spotlight with grace, leaving Toto in awe of her confidence and charisma. He also couldn't help but feel a little nervous at the idea of her wearing such high shoes all day, but his girlfriend was determined to make a statement. 

“Someone is a bit taller today?” Lewis said chuckling.

“Yes, Lewis. I’m even at your head level today. Still not quite George’s height but one step at a time, right?”

“Impressive… But I prefer the tiny boss to be tiny. Because those heels can break your toes or something.”

“It’s quite hurtful now but don’t you dare tell Toto. I’m trying to stay above a little longer today. Maybe till the race ends, then I will take it off.”

“Promise?”

“Swear on my toes, Lewis. Now get in the car. “

As Toto listened to Y/n's exchange with Lewis, he couldn't help but feel a pang of worry deep in his chest, with a little pang of jealousy as he heard Lewis make the comment about preferring her to be tiny, but he quickly pushed it aside. In his eyes, his girlfriend was perfect no matter her height. He knew how determined and fierce she could be, but the thought of her hurting herself in those towering shoes left him feeling uneasy. As Lewis walked away, Toto approached Y/n with a small frown, as he gently lifted her foot and carefully removed her heeled shoes, he couldn't help but notice the slight tension in her expression. He could tell she was disappointed that her attempt to be "taller" had come to an abrupt end. But he knew that her safety and well-being were his top priority, and he wasn't willing to risk her getting injured just for the sake of appearing taller. As he lowered her feet back to the ground, Toto looked up at her with a mixture of concern and affection "You know," he began, his tone tender, "you're perfect just the way you are, Liebe. Whether you're towering in those shoes or not." He gently ran a hand up her slender leg, his touch affectionate. "I don't care one bit about your height. I just want you to be safe and comfortable. That's all that matters to me."

Y/n couldn't help but soften at Toto's words, her disappointment at having to remove the heels fading in the warm glow of his affection. "I know," she replied, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. She reached down to brush a stray lock of hair out of his eyes, her touch gentle. "I just wanted to stand a bit taller for a change, you know? But I understand where you're coming from." She gave him a grin. "Next time, perhaps I will try on some wedges platform?”

liked by mercedesamgf1, lewishamilton, georgerussell63 and others

y/n_user: Can someone tell him to give me some of his height?

mercedesamgf1 we will try tiny boss

y/n_user Thanks admin! I appreciate ur help lewishamilton Can u tell him to save some for me also! Much needed it y/n_user Go find ur own! This is mine already

user_1 Mrs Long Legs now

user_2 Those shoes could kill

user_3 Can u save some for Yuki too

y/n_user Noted user_4 Tell Yuki to take it from his bf gasly

lilymhe Pretty heels for ma wifey

y/n_user Stop it wifey they're killlinggg meee lilymhe U can always sit on my lap wifey mercedesamgf1 Please stop calling my missus your wifey - toto user_1 the boss has joined the chat mic drop

user_5 Not toto using the company acc

liked by mercedesamgf1, lewishamilton, georgerussell63 and others

y/n_user photo dump and date night with my Mr Long Legs and he calls me his Ms Pocket Size so screw the heels

user_2 She looks so good!

user_3 THEY ARE THE POWER COUPLE!!

user_1 Dear mr future husband pls take note

lilymhe love you beautiful!

user_6 ATE and left NO CRUMBS

lewishamilton gorgeous - toto wolff

lewishamilton i don’t have instagram - toto wolff

y/n_user pls give lewis his ig acc back old man!

user: nOt the sign off by toto himself 😭😭

mercedesamgf1: finest couple ever! 😮‍💨

user admin— you’re so real for this omg user admin knows what’s up user can toto fight? user can’t fight for a championship that’s for sure

mercedesamgf1 the boss says you’re gorgeous

user GIVE THIS PERSON A RAISE FOR THEIR HARD WORK mercedesamgf1 so true

[birchleavesdawn]

Icy Improprieties

Kamimoto Kotone x M!Reader 2.5k Words Public ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Gangneung Ice Arena

"I guess this is the place."

Today you made the trip all the way to Gangneung to meet up with your girlfriend Kotone, who had invited you to come watch Jiwoo's hockey game. It was a long way, but you had never been to Gangneung, nor attended a hockey game, so you figured it might be an interesting experience.

You approached the heavy steel doors at the front, using your weight to pull one open. You were greeted with a chilling blast of cold air. Kotone had warned you to dress warmly, but you were wondering if the sweater you had picked out would be enough.

The inside of the building was intimidatingly large, it somehow looked twice as big on the inside as it did outside, and with a surprising amount of people going about their business. You walked up the ramp towards the rink and had a look around from behind the glass that separated the ice from the fans, probably there to prevent people from getting hit with the puck. You scanned the stands for a minute before spotting Kotone directly on the other side of the arena, also standing down by the glass. You guessed she must have come in from the other door. She spotted you and waved excitedly. You made eye contact and smiled, waving back, before finding your way over to where she was standing.

"Ah, I'm so glad you could make it!" She exclaimed. "It's gonna be really fun, I promise."

"This is already pretty cool. You're gonna have to help me out though, I have no idea how hockey works."

She laughed. "I don't know all the ins and outs either, but Jiwoo explained the basics of it last time I was here and its pretty simple to follow... wait why are you looking at me like that?" She blushed when she noticed you staring at her while grinning ear to ear.

"Sorry you just look so adorable in that enormous coat. I can't help it."

She smiled and smacked your arm playfully. "Where's your coat? Didn't I tell you to dress warmly? I don't think that's going to cut it."

"Yea I guess I underestimated how cold it was actually going to be."

She unzipped her coat and held out her arms.

"Get in here, we'll share."

You happily obliged and slipped into the giant coat along with her, wrapping your arms around her back and hugging her close.

"Ah, this is great." You commented, resting your chin on the top of her head.

"I know, it's like a personal heater."

"No, I mean because I get to hug you. But also because I can do this and no one will notice."

You lowered your hands to her butt and cupped a cheek in each, giving them a firm squeeze.

She yelped. "What are you doing? Do you see how many people are around?!"

"Relax, they can't tell. No one's gonna know." You began kneading and groping the soft flesh through her sweatpants.

"H-Hey stop that, someone's going to see us."

You ignored her pleas and whispered into her ear.

"You have such a nice butt Kotone. I have no choice but to take advantage of the situation."

She giggled and buried her face, which was now beat red, in your chest. "You're an idiot."

"Oh look, it's starting, so everyone will be completely focused on the game now."

You continued your exploration of her body, reaching down the back of her sweatpants and panties to touch her directly. She stiffened and you felt her breath hitch.

"Mmm. What happened to "we can't do this"? Aren't you still worried about people seeing? You teased.

She didn't respond, instead she reached her hands around your back and gripped your sweater, pulling you as close to her as possible. Her head was still resting against your chest, with her face pointed towards to ice to make it look like she was actually watching. You continued to feel her up, now sliding a finger into her.

She moaned quietly. "I hate you."

"Don't worry, you'll get your turn to tease me. But right now it's my turn." You continued pumping the digit in and out of her backside, eliciting quiet moans and gasps. You added a second, causing her grip on your sweater to tighten and her breath to become heavier.

"I hope I'm not making it too difficult for you to follow the game." You said, slowly working one hand around to the front of her pants.

"You're the worst." She managed, through ragged breaths.

"And yet you still love me."

You found your way into the front of her panties, quickly locating her clit, already engorged and begging for attention.

"Oh my god..." She groaned, biting down on your sweater.

"Come on now, you need to keep your focus on the game if you don't want anyone to notice. The players are doing their best, it's rude not to watch." You said, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

Kotone was at a loss for words, the pleasure and embarrassment of being fingered in a crowded public place was quickly getting the better of her. The two fingers working at her backside had her legs trembling, while the deft fingers working away at her clit were threatening to cause her knees to give out.

You decided to pick up the pace a bit.

"Ah! F-Fuck..."

"Language Kotone." You warned, as you worked her closer to climax.

"I-I can't..."

"Shhh, be a good girl and stay quiet." You whispered.

She was panting now, her grip on your sweater turning her knuckles white. You could feel her whole body begin to shake as she was on the verge of orgasm.

"Just let it go, baby. Cum for me."

Her breath caught in her throat, her body went rigid, and her legs quivered as her climax washed over her. Her body slumped forward into yours as she tried to stifle the loud moan she let out, the only thing preventing her from collapsing was your tight grip on her.

You pulled your hands from her sweatpants and held her as the aftershocks of her orgasm subsided. She eventually managed to collect herself and stood up, looking up at you, still blushing madly.

"Come with me." She said between breaths. She released you from her embrace and took hold of your hand, leading you away from the rink.

"Where are we going?"

"Somewhere private."

She led you to the bathroom, which thankfully was empty.

"Alright, I believe it's my turn now." She stated, pushing you backwards into the stall and locking the door behind her.

"What are you-"

"Shhhh. Just let it happen."

She reached up and pulled your head down, connecting her lips with yours in a passionate kiss.

You reciprocated, opening your mouth to allow her tongue access, which she took eagerly.

You felt her hands leave the sides of your face and drop to your waist, tugging at the hem of your sweater. She broke the kiss, leaving a strand of saliva hanging between you, and helped pull the sweater up and over your head. She hung it on the hook fastened to the back of the stall door and returned her lips to yours, her hands running over your exposed abdomen.

She kissed a trail from your mouth down to your neck, stopping to suck and nip at your sensitive skin. You ran a hand through her hair and let out a soft sigh, letting her know that you were enjoying yourself. She smiled against your neck, continuing down, until she reached the waistband of your pants. She knelt in front of you, dragging her tongue across your stomach.

"Kotone, what if someone comes in?"

"Please don't pretend like getting caught actually bothers you. I think we're way passed that." She replied, reaching for the button on your pants. She undid it, before tugging your pants and boxers down, allowing your rock hard cock to spring free.

"You've made quite a mess, haven't you?" She said, eyeing the precum that had accumulated on the head. She reached out and took it in her hand, spreading the sticky substance down your length. You let out a moan.

"Looks like you've enjoyed that almost as much as I did."

You looked down at her, your cheeks flushed, as she stroked you, before leaning in and pressing her tongue to the base of your shaft. She dragged her tongue up the entire length, causing you to shiver.

She swirled her tongue around the head, then opened her mouth and enveloped the tip, before taking you deeper. You reached out and took hold of her ponytail, guiding her, as she worked your shaft.

"As cute as you were in that coat, you look even more adorable with my dick in your mouth."

She looked up at you, your dick still in her mouth, and winked.

"Mmmm. You're such a good girl, Kotone. Your mouth feels amazing."

She moaned around your cock, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure throughout your body.

She continued bobbing her head up and down, taking more and more of you in her mouth each time, until you hit the back of her throat. She pulled back, sucking hard and using her tongue to massage the underside.

You were getting close, you could feel the pressure building, as you gripped her hair tighter and pulled her deeper onto your cock.

"Fuck, Kotone, I'm close."

She picked up the pace, using one hand to stroke the base of your cock, while the other went down the front of her pants, rubbing her own pussy.

You groaned and held her head in place, as you shot a thick rope of cum down her throat, which she greedily swallowed. She pulled back and gasped for air, stroking your twitching member, coaxing out the rest, and catching it on her tongue.

You leaned back against the toilet and closed your eyes, trying to catch your breath.

Kotone stood up and removed her hand from her pants, shoving her fingers into your mouth.

You loved the way she tastes. You sucked her fingers clean, moaning as you did so.

"Mmm. Good boy." She said, withdrawing her fingers from your mouth.

She began removing her own clothes, kicking her shoes off, pulling her shirt and bra over her head, and pushing her sweatpants and panties down.

She hung her top and pants on the hook with your sweater, then put her panties over your face.

"Hold these for me, okay?"

You nodded and complied, savoring your favorite scent.

She leaned against the stall door, bracing her arms against it.

No words needed, you understood your instructions. You moved behind her, and grabbed her hips. She let out a quiet moan as you pressed your still erect cock against her ass.

"Come on, give it to me."

You rubbed your shaft along her a lips a few times, coating yourself in her juices. You aligned your tip with her slit, and pushed inside.

"Fuck yes."

You both let out a moan, as you hilted yourself in her, filling her completely.

You took a second to relish in the feeling, before beginning to thrust.

You built up a rhythm, pulling her back to meet each of your thrusts. She braced her hands on the door, biting her lip and moaning, as your cock slammed into her over and over again.

You reached around her and cupped her breast, kneading the soft flesh. She let out a squeak when you pinched her nipple.

You leaned down and bit her earlobe.

"You look so sexy from behind, especially when I'm completely buried in your tight pussy."

You sped up, causing her to gasp, as your member pounded into her, the sound of flesh slapping flesh filled the room. Someone had almost certainly noticed what you were doing by now, but she was right, you really didn't care. It didn't seem like she cared anymore either.

She suddenly spun around and pushed you back down onto the toilet seat.

"I want you to look me in the eye when you fuck me."

She climbed on top of you, and lowered herself onto your dick, both of you moaning loudly as she did so.

She began to ride you, bouncing up and down on your lap. She wrapped her arms around your head and pulled you into her chest. You took one of her nipples in your mouth, causing an echoing moan to escape her lips.

"You're doing so good. Fuck me just like that, baby."

You could tell she was getting close, so you reached between the two of you and rubbed her clit. She gasped, and buried her face in the crook of your neck, moaning into it, as her climax quickly approached.

"Don't stop, I'm almost there."

She ground her hips down against yours, your dick hitting her in the perfect spot. She was panting heavily now, her walls clenching and squeezing your cock.

"I'm cumming."

With one final thrust, she screamed out in pleasure, her body shaking, as her orgasm ripped through her. She came all over your cock, the tightness and warmth too much for you to bear.

You moaned, as you blew your second load deep inside her, coating her insides.

The two of you sat there for a minute, breathing heavily. She leaned back and looked at you.

"So... worth the trip?"

"I'll be attending all of her games from now on."

Kotone giggled. "Speaking of Jiwoo, we should get back out there before she notices we're gone.

You both quickly redressed, Kotone retrieving her panties from you, and slipping them on.

"This did work by the way, I'm not cold anymore."

Kotone rolled her eyes.

You exited the bathroom holding hands once again. A couple of older woman who were stood not too far outside the door shot you some weird looks, but otherwise it didn't seem like too many people had any idea what had just transpired.

You returned to your spot by the glass just in time to hear the final horn sound.

"Looks like it's over." Kotone remarked. "Alright well now we go down over there and wait for Jiwoo to get changed and come out to meet us."

You followed her one more time down to the waiting area. You weren't there more than a couple minutes before Jiwoo came out and greeted you.

"Kotone are you alright? Are you sick? I saw you in the beginning and it looked like there was something wrong, then you guys disappeared and I never saw you again for the rest of the game!"

"Sorry yea, I wasn't feeling well for a while but I'm fine now. Sorry we missed your game."

"I'm going to join Kotone here for your next game too to make up for today." You added

You and Kotone shared a look.

"Sounds good, I'm happy to see you're doing better, Kotone."

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Deuce, Sebek: Like a Flower, Forever Blooming

Why does it look like Deuce is proposing to you with a tray of donut rings— WEH 😭 The birthday boy looks so handsome and gallant!! (Not usually the kind of comment I make for Deuce cksbsksnw) For some reason I tend to really like Deuce’s birthday cards…

His groovy is kinda funny too; Deuce looks like he wants to fight Alice… Interesting, because Ace acts in Alice-like ways, and he and Deuce are constantly bickering www

A Tale as Old as Time.

A girl found herself wandering into an enchanted garden. She was a tiny thing in her blue dress and pinafore, smiling sweetly at the colorful blooms surrounding her. They bore faces, those flowers—eyes, noses, and mouths, their expressions varying from curious to snarky.

The sunshine of the girl’s long locks, a youth sparkling with sensibility. They were a familiar sight.

It’s something straight from a story back home, Deuce thought.

He scrounged around for a smart comment to demonstrate his wit, his maturity. At last, he settled on: "I had no idea there were so many different looking flowers. I can barely name a few kinds.”

A dismissive grunt sounded.

"Hmph! You hail from the Queendom of Roses, don't you? And Heartslabyul is famous for its roses as well. You should be more familiar with the flora!" Sebek scolded him with a frown. "Have you no pride for your country or dormitory?! Truly, your behavior is beyond the pale!"

"I just never really paid much attention to the flowers before... I'm not the kind of guy with a green thumb. The most I do is paint the roses when the dorm leader tells me it's my turn."

"Unbelievable!! You disparage the noble perennials with that flippant attitude of yours!" Sebek shook his head. “Were you to lay your gaze upon Briar Valley in the springtime, you would surely come to appreciate them."

“Pere-what?”

“Perennials!!” Sebek folded his arms. He lifted his chin. “Don’t tell me you’re unaware of what they are! You must not be very well-read, human!!”

“O-Of course I know what they are!” Deuce stammered. “Wh-Who hasn’t heard of a para-knee-old before?!”

His fellow first year casted a doubtful look at him.

“… Okay, maybe I don’t,” Deuce admitted. His shoulders deflated along with his defiance.

“Perennials,” Sebek smirked triumphantly, “are flowers that return year after year. Roses are among them, but there are many others that fall into the category.

“When they bloom in the warm season, it is a scene to behold, a feast for the eyes! Then, come fall and winter, they wither and fade… and in spring and summer, they are born again! It is a most glorious, never-ending cycle.”

“Ah, so they live and die, then they’re brought back to life. Over and over… Endlessly?”

The gears in Deuce’s head slowly turned. Their teeth clicked into place, sparking a realization, a light in flickering on in his face.

“Oh?" The smugness in Sebek's voice was front and center. "Have you been swayed already? It certainly didn’t take much to persuade you.”

“I think I get it now, Sebek. Flowers are cool after all!” Deuce slammed a fist into an open palm. “Growing, getting older, dying, and coming back to life again… They’re like phoenixes!”

“In what way are flowers like phoenixes?!” Sebek bellowed, his volume shaking the paintings lined up on the walls. His words, however, seemed to fall on deaf ears.

“I wanna be like that too!! As tough as a flower that bounces back year after year!” Deuce passionately declared. “If I get knocked down, I’ll just get back up again! There’s gonna be no stopping me!”

He paused. "... Do you think I should add some flaming flower decals onto my Magical Wheel?"

"You've failed to take to heart a single insightful thing I've told you!! I would hardly consider this a revelation!" Sebek groaned, a hand upon his temple.

Typical foolhardy human, he surmised with a scoff. But still, he could sense a fighter when he saw one. The determination in Deceus's eyes was unmistakable. A blue-green as sharp and as clear as a cloudless summer's day, like a sword cleaving the heavens in half.

He had seen it many times over.

It was the look of a warrior.

"Listen here, human! There are a great many number of opponents in this world whose power may rival or even exceed your own. When you should encounter such strong foes… I hope you stand your ground. To betray your own promise would be disgraceful!”

“You saying I’d go back on my word?! No way! I definitely won’t run. That’s a coward’s way out.” Deuce grinned daringly—dangerously. “No matter what comes my way, I’ll own up to it. I’ll take it all on!”

[cardboardclownery]

CRASHES THROUGH A BRICK WALL

HI HI IM ALIVE!!!! sorry for the relative radio silence on here ;v;

on the topic of that actually!!!! finally have a proper folie a deux au update for you!! though its slightly different than expected?

me and professional buddy and fellow au creator @cookiecaker decided to share a summary of the story we're making for the au beforehand since we'll be taking a whileeee to finish it,,, got a lot of life to live and horrors to create "-v-

after this though you mayyyy or may notttt see some out of order chapter drafts posted for the story as well,,, or atleast one? eh youll see ;Pc

ANYWAYS!!!! this is gonna take a while so lets get on with...

THE FOLIE À DEUX DOAI AU

a summary!!

or story pitch? idk-

(cookie please lemme know if i miss or improperly describe anything here feel free to correct me-)

PART 1

the first three chapters follow alex just after the end of volume 1 as theyre abducted by lankmann and confined to his asylum as a "patient." eventually they get sent to winfrey as food, but winfrey refuses to eat them. theyre left to die in room 66 by lankmann for a Long While, until eventually he gives up and just puts alex back in their room

while alone in confinement, alex starts noticing strange things happening... dark patches start appearing on their skin, they get random pains as if someone were kicking them, and they hear a voice... a much clearer voice than the ones they used to hear while working in the asylum, and it seemed to be able to read their thoughts. though they originally just assumed it was due to being part of their thoughts as well, they find that they start knowing things they had no way of knowing and never learned prior to being confined. when lankmann typically entered room 66, how long hes inside, certain areas of the asylum patients found that theyd never heard of before...

this "voice" managed to help alex find a way to escape, leading to them running away and moving to another, smaller town in eastridge than the one they originally lived in to avoid lankmann's pursuit

PART 2

[ ! tw for cannibalism. yes you heard me- ! ]

so after getting far away from the asylum, alex assumes that their hallucinations and weird symptoms of... Something would wear off, since subject 02 was no where near close enough to affect them

well uh. nope! theyre still there!!

so eventually alex figures out "oh shit that thing is in my head somehow" and is obviously quite concerned!!! to say the least!!!! but theyre also oddly comforted by the idea of having The Voice in their head, since now theyre not entirely alone while on the run and i mean it helped them escape so it cant be that bad?? either way theyre not exactly excited about the whole ordeal and theyre starting to look different and theyre really hungry all the time and its not fun

so! at some point (with winfreys suggestion) alex decides to run off to another town a bit farther away just to be safe. but Uh Oh theyre all out of food!! so theyre extremely hungry, forcing themself through it so they can get food when they arrive but. they see someone in the woods while walking

and for some reason that makes them even hungrier

they try to ignore it and keep walking but they cant

and the next thing they know

theyre looking down at a person

chewing off the flesh on their leg

covered in blood

even after regaining their senses they cant stop themself from eating. it tasted... so good... they were so hungry... they felt awful but it really did taste so s o g o o d .

in a haze, they discard the body, clean themself off and reach the next town. just after unpacking in an apartment, they collapse, flooded with the emotions they fought off on the way there

the next day, alex finally confronts winfrey (or winfreys voice rather-) about all their grievances and they eventually reach an understanding, as winfrey opens up about fearing the outside of the asylum despite longing to escape through alex, so they eventually agree to let winfrey pilot their body for a few days to get a feel for how the world has changed since the time winfrey had been free

in doing so, winfrey realizes how small and helpless humans are in comparison to them and how terrified the patients they devoured mustve been. this allows them to appreciate human life (specifically alex's) much more and want to escaped in their own body to join alex outside and introduce clyde to what they learned after finding it again

while piloting alexs body, winfrey is suddenly forced back into their own after lankmann inflicts enough pain to wake them from the dissociative state that piloting alex left them in. soon after this, winfrey overcomes the fear that was originally keeping them from escaping the facility and breaks out

PART 3

this section is a lot less figured out than the rest so uhh bear with me please ;v;

essentially this couple of chapters just follows alex and winfrey as they get used to life on the run, figuring out where to go from there and how they could potentially find clyde, along with just talking face to face and getting used to that. its a weird feeling talking to someone that you share thoughts with yknow? like talking to yourself but its... not... yourself...

around the start of this section winfrey also expresses that they feel drawn to feminity as a human concept, thus being referred to with they/she from this point on in the story!! transfem winfrey yippee!!! it just makes sense in our head idk-

PART 4

alex and winfrey start noticing news broadcasts and posters asking around for a "dark figure" lurking around, as well as warnings about alex being missing from lankmanns asylum. this fuels alex's paranoia, leading them to seeing lankmanns caretakers everywhere, feeling as if theyre being watched wherever they go... until eventually their home is ambushed and theyre taken back into lankmanns custody

alex is essentially used as bait to get winfrey to come save them from the asylum, since lankmann couldnt find a solid lead on where winfrey could be. alex tries to convince her not to fall for it, since they can both tell this is what lankmanns trying to do, but winfrey eventually caves and breaks back in to help alex, getting trapped inside once again

PART 5

depsite the circumstances, winfrey and alex do their best to stay determined and keep looking for a way out, but they dont make much progress. to make matters worse, lankmann tries "live feeding" patients to alex in the same way he did with winfrey due to realizing that alex has veldigun traits and assuming that theyd have the same appetite as her. this isnt the case, and eventually lankmann switches to dead patients as food for alex, which theyre forced to accept due to lacking any other options

both winfrey and alex are miserable in the situation, the helplessness sinking in fairly quickly as alexs body begins rejecting the growing veldigun portions of itself, decaying under the immense stress

during their final moments, winfrey pilots alexs body to allow an atleast somewhat peaceful death as their consciousness fades away, leaving winfrey alone to reflect on all that had happened...

...and thats the official end of the story!! i had like,, a hypothetical epilogue/alternate ending where lankmann forces a Mind Merge with winfrey somehow and then gets killed and she breaks out again but like. idk the logistics of that are iffy and i kinda prefer the more melancholy end for something like this ":]c

ANYHOW!!!! hope that was!!! something!!!! please feel free to ask questions or provide feedback or anything else im always happy to engage with my fellow freaks (affectionate) :]

ALSO IF YOU MAKE CONTENT BASED ON THIS AU LET ME KNOW I WILL DIE FOREVER alright thats it for real this time- stay safe broskissss BP

[powderblueblood]

the king of hawkins high

hawkins, indiana. 1960-somethin'. al munson reckons with the reality of his brother being shipped off to vietnam, and carries on a years-long tradition of swapping a ring with his best friend, ray doevski. which could mean nothing. cw: swearing, mention of criminal activities, era-typical misogyny and implied homophobia, guys is it gay to wipe motor oil from your homie's face when they've possibly just set a heinous crime in motion, murder but kind of not really. i didnt proofread this i am really just running on the fumes of vibes atp wc: 6.1k. what goes on. tagging @slowdancer, without whose continued interest in the old man yaoi aspect of hellfire & ice, this would not be possible. i appreciate you more than you know part of the hellfire & ice universe

He comes to with his head against the tile. 

Comes to as in wakes up or comes into jettisoned back to sobriety by the force of his own piss stream, he’s not sure, but he is here and he’s awake. 

With his dick in his hand. 

Al’s mouth feels like a fucking shag carpet. Every bud on his tongue has grown its own ecosystem after the amount of beer and whiskey and tobacco and ketchup and mustard and sugar and salt and smoke and someone else’s spit he’s let populate there. 

It’s been a long… however long it’s been, cooped up in this clubhouse on the outskirts of town. 

Undesirable types like to hole up here and pretend it’s a bar, but it functions more as a halfway hovel. Some genius calls it the Hideout. 

Al just about keeps himself steady as he shakes the last drop out (more’n three and you’re playin’ with yourself), zipping his pants back up with a hop that he instantly regrets. A knife slices right through his temporal lobe. 

The tubular bells have begun to ring and remorse starts to churn in his stomach. 

Time’s up, party’s over, away we go home.

Staggering back out into the front bar, Al catches a fond sight–a shapely, tanned rump lying bare across the pool table. Given that he’s missing a shirt, he figures he must have been splayed underneath that body before nature had called. 

God given miracle he’d made it to the bathroom in whatever state he was in.

One of Al’s hands reaches out and caresses a perky, round cheek, giving it a squeeze. A grumble from the mouth it belongs to, buried under a mass of blonde curls. 

“Kar-ennn,” he sing-songs, voice sputtering like a fuckin’ chainsaw, “It’s after ten.” 

“Mmnff.”

“On a Sunday.” He bends, bringing his mouth to the peachy mound. Teeth sink in. “You’re gonna be late for–”

“--church!” yelps the blonde, darting up and rolling over in this mad scramble to get her frilly old halter dress back on her body. “Shit! Shit-shit-shit!”

“Oh, slow down,” Al says, his brain moving a little slurrier than he’d anticipated–which is to say, he’s still polluted. He cages his arms around Karen where she’s sitting, leaning his perspiring forehead into her chest which stills her in an instant. “God ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

“Yes, but my mother is,” she grabs him by the ears, yanking him to her eyeline–woof, way too much movement, “gonna kill me.”

“Proposal,” Al mumbles, leaning for her mouth but landing on her neck, “I tell your mama that we’re gettin’ married. Tell her the next time you enter the house of God it’s ‘cause you’re gonna make an honest woman outta me.” 

“Al,” Karen sighs, shoving him off and dismounting the pool table. This bouncy blonde, this head cheerleader apple pie type… Al had her nailed the moment he walked into her homeroom that first day at Hawkins High. Stacked to the ceiling, her gorgeous baby blues stuck on him like a fly trap. 

He hadn’t expected to stumble across a babe like her in this glorified cornfield of a town. 

“You’re very cute, and you’re a lotta fun. I mean, we have,” she shuffles in her little skirt; so cute, scandalized by herself by the light of day, “a lot of fun, but no matter how many times you ask, there’s no way I’m marrying you just so you can avoid shipping out.” 

He adopts a slump. “But what if I said I loved ya?”

“You’d be lying!” Karen cries, a phosphate giggle. She manages to find that letterman jacket she came in here wearing and slides it over her shoulders. Lobs a guilty look over her shoulder at Al.

Like he’s supposed to share in some reverent moment of shame, like he should feel bad that he’s giving her what that Wheeler meathead can’t. 

Guy’s graduated and still insists that she wears his letterman jacket. It’s sad. 

“Look, are you coming to that Gomes chick’s party, at least?” 

“Gomes? Gloriana Gomes?” Karen’s gone all incredulous on him. “Al, I’m going to have to try and sneak past my mother after being out here all night–you really think I’m going to risk my neck going to some greaser cookout?” 

“Tell them you’re goin’ to Bible study. Repenting and all that.”

Her mussed curls shudder as she shakes her head, heading for the door with her tennis shoes in her hand. “See you at school. Last week of senior year!” 

—

To Al’s shock and delight, someone’s been paying the phone bill at the Hideout–he wonders what kind of bootlegging operation necessitates a phone line, but he’s thankful for it all the same. Lets him punch in one of the only numbers he knows in this shitheel town and bark, “Bring the Caddy ‘round, Jeeves!”

Forty minutes, his found shirt and a flat beer later, a battered, rusted truck kicks up dust outside of the Hideout. 

“Thought you were dead,” a clipped voice echoes out the driver’s side. 

Al takes his time ambling over. He reaches through the driver’s window and chucks Ray Doevksi’s chin with his ringed hand. 

“Wished I was, more like.”

The greased slick of Ray’s pompadour catches an offensive amount of light, and Al’s got to shield his eyes. He throws himself into the passenger side and lets Ray size him up with customary disapproval.

“Christ, you smell like Corn Nuts and pussy.”

“Take a big whiff, Doevski!” Al rifles through the glove compartment before Ray shoves a soft pack of cigarettes at him. “Might be the last one you get for a while, seeing as you’re liable to strike out tonight.” 

“And what makes you say that?”

“Because you’re sniffin’ after a girl whose big brothers are known Hawkins heavies,” Al scoffs back a mouthful of smoke, more to curb the ever-present craving than anything else. “You don’t got the stones to see a thing like that through.”

He catches Ray’s sidelong glance at him, the line of his hardened jaw with the shiny fucking hair on top. A dollop of oily black, showing up starkly against his pristine white t-shirt. Ray is crisp and calculated-looking, without the starched strangulation of looking like some prep. Ray looks like they peeled Jimmy Dean off the blacktop and reinflated him, gave him a Presley dye-job. 

Brought him back wrong. 

See, Ray Doevski, Al’s best friend, he looks like the sensitive type but he’s all mean streak. 

Al, ever the other boy’s foil, looks like exactly what he is. A hick with a perpetual hard-on and a mouth too smart for his brain to catch up with. Luckily, Al sucked up all the charm in his gene pool; Hawkins has been a cakewalk ever since his folks moved him and his sullen older brother down here from the good ol’ hills of Appalachia. 

In fact, Ray was the first person to step to him about that. Make some crack about they got running water up there yet? Or y’all still bathin’ in pig spittle? 

‘We haven’t quite gotten to experience the spoils of modern plumbing, but your mama was kind enough to let me wash off after I balled her into oblivion.’

Up went the scuffle, and they were immediate friends after the fisticuffs were thrown. 

Since then, Ray’s led Al into the underbelly. The doper contingent that Ray’s foster family has connections to, the bikers trafficking shit through places like the Hideout. The only exciting thing about a town like Hawkins is how many secrets it can hold, and there’s not a whole lot, but enough to keep them entertained for now. 

Ray has designs on fleeing to business school after they graduate. 

The only designs Al has on are his boxer briefs. 

Speaking of, he scratches his crotch. 

“Don’t get crabs on my passenger seat,” Ray monotonously scolds him.

“This passenger seat’s a ward of the state,” Al grumbles. Translation: he knows this truck is stolen. 

“Am I driving you home, then? Is your tail sufficiently tucked between your legs yet?” 

Al hates when Ray acts like he’s his own personal O. Henry story, reading him down to the last punctuation. 

See, his last three lost days on the tear with Hawkins’ grimiest and all their passers-through had been the result of some family problems. Well, not problems. Consequences. Of living as a part of the greatest country in the world. 

Al’s brother Wayne had been drafted. Ticket up, number called. Death certificate as good as signed. 

You’re next, boy, Al’s father had said, If they can find any goddamn use for ya.

 “I’m conscientiously objecting to the whole thing.”

“Shit. Didn’t know you had one of those.”

“Just trying it on for size. I can still return it for store credit.”

The rubber on Ray’s tyres squeal onto Philadelphia, stopping dead outside of the Munson household. Clapboard. Best they could do on short notice–needs a lick of paint that no one got around to sticking their tongue out for. But it’s home. 

It always will be. Al understands that might be why his heart feels like it’s sinking. 

He feels Ray watching him as he stares out the passenger side. A dry swallow. 

He doesn’t want to go back in there. He toys with the idea of telling Ray to hit it again, to keep driving til the wheels come off this thing, so he can stay unmoored and un-privy to the disappointment dripping down the walls of that house. Those stains don’t lift. 

They never will.

“Pick me up at eight, sugar?” Al snaps back into character, simpering with Donna Reed sweetness at Ray. He rolls his eyes under long-lashed lids. 

“If you survive ‘til then.” 

A heave to the rustbucket of a door and Al’s hopping out of the truck. 

“Al,” Ray calls, gunning the engine back to life. “If I make it with Gloriana Gomes tonight…”

“Mighty girthy if.”

“... that calls for a changing of hands.” Ray gestures to the rock on Al’s finger. The Hawkins High class ring, the big brass bastard with its imitation emerald. Green and gold, the colors of their proud and mighty cowpat of a school. It had been Ray’s originally, seeing as how Al had all but dropped out at this point. But there were few things Ray had that Al didn’t want, and vice versa. 

Balls. Charisma. Something big and ugly and shiny. 

Something to be proud of. 

So one day Al goes, ‘Bet your ring I can’t aim this stink bomb clear through O’Donnell’s classroom window,’ continuing his habit of torturing the newest faculty member. Ray’d said sure, because Al’s aim was reliably shitty– except for that day. Bullseye. Screaming. 

Ray had reluctantly handed over the ring. 

Then, at the derelict drive-in where they’d watched On the Waterfront together, Ray’d said, ‘Bet your ring I can’t shake down the candy shack for whatever’s in the register.’ 

A made-up kid-choking emergency and fifty-odd dollars later, Al was handing the ring back.

It went on like that, the bets increasing in risk and moral soundness. The ring bearer was dubbed the King of Hawkins High, a stab at the squares that actually gave a shit. Al lived for it. Not because Ray was easy to best, he wasn’t. One really had to get creative, or not be afraid to be hauled in by the heat. Ray was a worthy adversary. 

Made Al feel like he could accomplish things. 

“That’s a little tame, don’t you think?” Al says. The stakes had crawled up a little higher than balling some chick, no matter how white hot her family supposedly was. Unless, this is Ray really trying to prove something.

The Gomes brothers were the number one name in town for racketeering, gun thuggery, speed distribution… you name it, they had dominion over it. 

If he won over their princess Gloriana, eased into their good books… that’s the making of a man. Al knows that. 

Ray knows Al knows that, leveling him with a steel-edged stare over his sunglasses. 

“See you at eight, sugar.”

—

The Munson household is dark and quiet, thank Christ, allowing Al to slink into the bedroom he shares with his elder brother and catch some well-earned hungover shuteye. 

Sleep sinks him quick, his exhausted, wrung out form hitting the mattress without so much as kicking his boots off. His dreams are vivid and vague, parched and sweaty, indecisive and arresting as they always are after a sleepless bender. In the one he can recall the best, he sits behind a cartoonishly large wheel of a cartoonishly small van. He’s driving around labyrinthian turns, around a trailer park that he vaguely recognises from the outskirts of town. 

Gravel crunches underneath, sounding like bones cracking. Grinding teeth. 

He wants to get out, but he can’t find the lot that he’s looking for. Someone’s yelling at him from outside the vehicle; and he can’t exactly turn his head to see, but he’s vaguely aware of a baby girl lying in the passenger seat beside him. She’s crying and he’s hushing, promising that they’re almost there. 

It’ll all be okay, honey bear! Al’s gonna fix it.

The window of the van is slung low, and hailstones begin to rain in on him and the baby, pelting him in the forehead–

Takes him a minute or two to come to. Wayne stands, a shadowy figure in the doorway with a handful of peanut shells. 

“Dinner,” the elder Munson grumbles. 

“I’m comin’! Jesus!” Al whines.

“No, this is your dinner,” Wayne keeps tossing the shells. “You wanna run off and join the circus, you better get used to circus food.”

“I’d sooner crawl inside of a lion’s asshole than bend over and take it up the chute for Uncle Sam, I’ll tell you that,” kid brother grumbles into his flat, yellowing pillow. 

“Real nice, Allen.”

“You know what,” Al, annoyed now, rustles up in bed, furiously blinking his bleary eyes at Wayne, “When did you go and get so fuckin’ patriotic anyway? Far as I know, your greatest contribution to society was teaching me how to boost a car on my sixteenth birthday.”

Wayne scoffs, tossing the last of the shells onto the floor. “Yeah, and a fat lotta good it did. Still got that… Doohickey pansy chauffeurin’ you around, huh?”

“Christ, you really fell out the sad bastard tree and hit every branch on the way down, huh? Just ‘cause you ain’t got no friends, man–”

“Allen.”

“--doesn’t mean you need to go buzz your head and get a rifle about it, I mean, my god–”

“Al.”

“I think it’s really pathetic, y’know, real pathetic that you’re gonna go play stooge for a system that wouldn’t piss on folks like you or me or Ma or Pa if we was on fire–” 

As if Al really gave a damn about the system.

“Al, you’re gonna have to grow up pretty soon. You know that, don’t you?”

That plugs him up fast. Al’s vision has unbleary’ed itself. A cold jolt arcs through him, one he tries to scoff away. Wayne always does this, drags out the stoic shit because he knows it’s a surefire conversation ender. He’s so solid that way, this living full stop Al has to call a brother. His way or the highway. His way or the chopper. 

Wayne was always telling Al no, always telling Al do this and do that and take the fall, they won’t care, you’re the youngest, they’ll go easy on you and watched as their father snatched a knot into Al’s head that a navy man couldn’t untie.

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

Wayne leans a little heavier on the doorframe. Al can see paint chips loosening where his shoulder presses. 

“Means I gotta go and do this because Ma and Pa won’t be able to survive if I don’t. Not if they got you leechin’ off ‘em still. Which, signs point to,” Wayne gestures to their shared bedroom. A harsh split down the middle; Al’s side is a ragged explosion of dirty socks, underwear, records, comics, cigarette butts. Wayne’s side is so orderly, Al bets he could bounce a quarter off the bed. 

Like he’d been waiting to ship out his whole life. 

“I’m warnin’ you, boy,” Wayne’s tone darkens. Al wishes it didn’t make him flinch on instinct, but it does. “You better clean up your act. Get some kinda life together. Otherwise, you’re gonna end up in prison before your ticket’s even drawn.”

He lets it simmer for a minute, drawing out the silence that he’d usually feel like he has to fill. It’s so muggy, it has been muggy, this quiet between them since Wayne decided he was the kind of person that wanted to do the right thing. Do what he’s told, more like. 

Another knot of a different kind tightens in Al’s sternum. Fear. He doesn’t look at Wayne because to look at him, he would know. Wayne would see it in Al’s face, and Al would see it in Wayne’s. They’re terrified, the both of them. 

Munsons are no heroes. They don’t pull out of things like this. 

Even if Wayne uses all the right moves, likelihood is he catches a stray bullet or blowback from a bomb and goes down. Stupid for him to think anything else would happen. 

Every time Al looks at him, he knows it might be one of the last.

Then again, what else has Wayne got? He wasn’t happy about being dragged by the ear from Appalachia to Indiana. He couldn’t shake the stubbornness to make friends in town. Left school before he even broke tenth grade. He couldn’t hold down a job for nothin’-- Hawkins decided they didn’t like the smell of hick shit that the Munsons were dragging through the place. Their father was barely hanging onto the gig he’d moved them here for, drinking what little he did make. Their mother was catatonic most of the time, drinking twice as much as their father did. 

Wayne is floundering, if not practically dead in Lover’s Lake already. 

Might as well die someplace tropical. 

But where does that leave Al? Al, the spitfire kid who needs Wayne to anchor him so he doesn’t spin completely out of control. He gets this notion of speed, thinks he’s capable of beating God at his own game–not in small part spurned on by Ray Doevski. Gasoline, matches. He needs Wayne, needs his big brother to remind him that the ground below him is hard, not soft. What goes up must come down, and all that shit. 

So, how dare he. 

How dare he choose Vietnam over Al. 

“Well, brother mine,” Al says in a tone smooth as silk, rolling onto his back and stretching his wiry arms up like a languid cat. Smug beats stoic. “Just so happens that army green ain’t really my color. I’ll take my chances.”

—

Hastily scrubbed and half a shoulder of stolen bourbon deep, Al kicks rocks in his shoddy driveway. If he had a watch that wasn’t broken, he sure would check it, then drunkenly shake his fist at the sky and curse Ray Doevski’s tardiness. 

Just as that thought occurs, of course, Ray hits his mark. Skids up to the facade on Philadelphia with a little more urgency than usual. 

“Don’t burn that rubber too fast, now,” Al says, almost missing the step as he climbs in, “You know how tyres are a bitch to lift.”

“Ain’t you gonna offer me a drink?” Ray’s voice is a little reedier than usual–that usually means he has something on his mind. Something cooking. 

Through the encroaching fog of his inebriation, Al gives him a little once over. He’s got a smudge of motor oil on his cheek. 

Al wipes it away with a clumsy hand and feels Ray stiffen. His dark, delighted eyeballs seem to jitter in his skull before he jerks his head away from Al’s hand. 

A moment throbs, and Al pushes the booze towards him. He doesn’t totally understand and it shows as much on his face. 

“S’goin’ on with you?” 

He watches as Ray mechanically reminds himself to relax, chill out, they’re headed for a party. Like the gears are clicking behind his face, evening out his expression.

“Lemme ask you something,” and that vibrancy is back in Ray’s voice, “Your folks still on your ass about gettin’ a job?”

“Like flies on shit.”

“What if I told you I had an opportunity that would make them very happy?”

“Happier than they are with my brother, the Colonel?”

“Way,” Ray’s teeth gleam in the late Autumn sunset, the bodacious orange twisting the planes of his face into a handsome Jack o’ Lantern. “Real cash. And fast.”

Al slugs a little whisky and slouches further down in his seat. “Can’t be any dumber than the bullshit I’ve already heard. Hit me.”

“You’re gonna fuckin’ flip,” Ray shakes his head, “The Gomes brothers wanna cut us in on a deal. They, uh, they’ve gotten familiar with us. Told you it was worth showin’ your face at the Hideout every once in a while.”

Every once in a while, sure… Ray and Al skulking the parking lot, chainsmoking and playing marbles like a couple of errant kids in order to get familiar with the local heavies. Prove they were trustworthy. That they’d see shit, but they wouldn’t say shit.

Flies on shit.

Al jerks forward as Ray steps on the gas. 

“A deal, huh?” Al finally manages. 

“Distribution,” the gentlemen’s term for slinging dope. Speed, hash, benzos. Whatever. “This is a real business, Munson. With real payout. We make the right connections, there’s no tellin’ what we can do with it.”

Ray’s just about frothing at the mouth; Al’s never seen him so jazzed about something before. Similar to Wayne with that cool as ice, hard rock front. It’s unnerving to see it crack. Al’s stomach winches. 

Prison before your ticket’s even drawn.

Then again, what else has Al Munson got going for him?

Ray’s shark eyes reflect a bolt of lightning that doesn’t appear in the sky. 

Al’s groan sounds like thunder. “Fuck it. Sure.”

“Thatta boy! We gotta be at the pickup spot at midnight sharp, Cinderella.” Ray’s hands drum against the wheel, and Al could swear that he sees his bare ring finger twitching. “And–listen, Al. Don’t go spreadin’ this around at the party, alright? Especially to the boys. Mixin’ business and pleasure… just puts a bad taste in people’s mouths, y’know.”

“I’ll behave.”

—

Easier said than done. 

Al wobbles through Gloriana Gomes’ backyard with the grace of a newborn gazelle, but at the very least he can make almost falling into the band’s drumset look cute. Lantern lights above him triple, quadruple, and he’s wondering just what the hell the bruiser bitch put in this punch. 

“Munson.”

“Ah! The lady of the hour,” Al manages almost coherently. “Lemme get look at you.”

He squints through one eye to take in Gloriana’s shapely figure, packed tight into a halterneck catsuit that would make any man shed a tear and cry glory to God. She’s stunning, this chick, with her blunt black bangs and her lacquered cherry lips and her spike heels–but by god, is she lethal.

Al needs exactly this amount of Dutch courage to even fathom speaking a full sentence to her. 

He heard she keeps a switchblade in her bra, which is how she’s won so many pageants. Pure intimidation.

He wants her to shave him bald all over with that very same switchblade.

Lurching forward, his lips brush her bouffant and almost swallow her earring. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

“It’s not my birthday,” Goddamn, he can feel her nails dig into his bicep. Whisky dick is being rendered a myth with every passing second. “It’s just a party.” 

“Thassa damn shame, ‘cause here I am with this biiig ole gift for you,” Al’s choking on the chemical tinge of her drugstore perfume and the copious amounts of hairspray she wears. This, the girl with always has a lit cigarette perched in her fingers… walking fire hazard. White hot. 

Al’s hand slides over Gloriana’s hip, only distantly aware that he’s likely in Ray’s direct line of vision–that man rarely takes his eyes off the baddest Betty Hawkins has to offer. 

“You wanna see it? S’in my pocket…”

Those Dutchmen are really onto something.

Her nails dig again and Al wonders, with a throb to the crotch, if she’s drawing blood yet. 

“I’m gonna do you a favor, creep,” Gloriana hisses into Al’s ear, “I’m not going to slap the shit out of you in front of my brothers and their friends, because I don’t feel like helping anybody chop up your lousy little body tonight. I just did my nails fresh.”

“I can feel that.”

Gloriana lightly but politely shoves him off. Her face curls up into this charm-offensive, butter-wouldn’t-melt smile, which is completely at odds with her tough girl appearance. Still, it’s like a cherry nipple on a milkshake tit. Just perfect.

“You and that foster home freak are made for each other,” she says to Al, and he sees two pairs of ruby red lips instead of one. She makes it sound like she’s being friendly. Foster home freak—that’d be Ray’s calling card. Hawkins loves to remind Ray and Al that they don’t really belong here.

And then she’s gone, and Al feels a hand physically propping him upright. It’s dinky, bony and feminine so it can only belong to one person–

“Joycey!” he bellows into the young Maldonado birdy’s face. Now, Joyce is a gal that Al has always had a minute for and vice versa. She was always good for a smoke and a jaw about nothin’, as was he, but he didn’t love having to share his stash of finely toasted tobacco with that lug Jim Hopper she’s so goddamned fond of. 

Joyce flinches at the greeting, wiping a little of Al’s spittle off her cheek. “Jesus H., Munson, wake the neighbors muchly?” 

“Oh, between me and Dick fuckin’ Dale over here,” he gestures in the vague direction of the garage band that belongs to one Gomes or another, he’s sure, “they’ll be up all night. What’s shakin’?”

Joyce digs around her grubby jeans for her smokes, doing Al the honor of both putting it in his waiting maw and lighting it. She shrugs in that tight-shouldered way that she has, always wound up about something or other. She’s so twiggy, this girl–probably why Al’s never tried to put a move on her. He’s scared she’ll have a nervous breakdown or something. 

“Just wanted to see how you were.”

That’s the other thing. Bleeding heart Maldonado, always checking in on her good pal Al. Ever since he’d broke the news that Wayne was Viet-bound, she kept looking at him sidelong, all sadlike. 

“Me? Spiffy, sweetheart. Just darling, if you must know,” Al says, volume and theatricality increasing. “Any day now, I’ll have a full bedroom to myself. Ain’t that exciting?”

Joyce snorts, a puff of smoke coming out of each nostril like she’s the world’s most anxious dragon. “Gonna invite Karen over for a sleepover?”

“Ixnay on the aren-kay, Joy-say! My god, we can’t have the whole of Cherry Lane know I’m balling a cheerleader,” hands cup around Al’s mouth, cigarette still dangling from it, “It’d be just about my ruination!” 

Joyce giggles all big and unbridled, which Al likes because he likes when she loosens up, but it’s swiftly cut off as Al finds himself stumbling into the nearest deck chair–which is to say, into the lap of the person sitting on it. This lucky customer happens to be one Leonard Gomes, affectionately nicknamed Lurch. Guy’s built like a brick shit cathedral, not just a house, with a selection of fascinating prison tattoos covering his neck. Al can’t make ‘em out, even up close.

“Myyy sincerest apologies, big boy!” Al slurs, but doesn’t get up right away. Lurch’s little black eyes are blackening and blackening. “But hey, I’ll catch you later. For our big date, right? Right? Can ya gimme any clues for what we’re movin’, can–” 

Oof, hauled up by the front of his ribbed tank! Only Ray Doevski in full crisis management mode could manage such a feat. 

Just kidding. Joyce could probably do it if she put her mind to it. Al’s about a hundred pounds soaking wet. 

“Hey, this is my favorite shirt, man! Don’t stretch ‘er out!” 

A seething Ray hauls him all the way to the front of the house and about heaves him into the truck. Al complies pretty limply, not hating the feeling of being puppeteered around. His limbs were getting heavy. 

“Daddy’s givin’ me a time out,” Al pouts. And promptly leans out the passenger door and pukes. It’s all bile, three or four days of full bender bile. He’s barely eaten. It scores his nostrils and steams up on the pavement. 

Ray stands just out of the splash zone with his arms folded, waiting for Al to let up. 

When all the blood has been sufficiently drained out of his face, he does. Slumps against the seat. 

Ray doesn’t exactly look at him with anger. Or annoyance, even. There’s a pillowy nature to the way he stares him down, before he walks over to the Gomes’ garden hose and turns it on, stretching it so it’ll reach Al. 

He laps at the water gratefully. A hound. 

Ray digs a vial from his pocket, the kind that comes complete with its own little spoon. Something he’d lifted from some foster kid he’d lived with, he had told Al before. This little number is a sight for sore eyes. 

“The smelling salts. You shouldn’t have.”

Al huffs a bump up each nostril and shoves the heels of his hands into his eyeballs. 

Whammo. Slowly coming back to reality. 

“Sorry.” 

“S’alright.” Ray’s head swivels around, evidently spotting the Gomes brothers heading to their hot rod. His voice comes out tight and he bolts for the driver’s side of the truck. Moves so fast he makes Al dizzy. “We gotta move anyhow.” 

“Midnight already?”

“The witching hour.” 

—

His head wedged into the corner of the open window, Al breathes deep the dusty night breeze on Holland. On the drive out here, you can count down the seconds until you smell the lake. 

Five, four, three, two… Cannonball. 

They drive in an imbalanced silence. Tense on Ray’s end, nauseated on Al’s. But he’s just about starting to come to, starting to clock into the reality of their situation. 

Al had tossed around a little grass before; he came by it easy and could move it even easier. An operation like this, however, with clandestine pickups under the cover of night, with the armored Gomes vehicle tailing them–this is serious. 

Wait. 

Hold on. 

Al cranes his neck to get a look out the back window. They’ve lost the Gomes’ headlights. Nothing but dark, dark road beyond the reddened back beams of Ray’s truck. That’s funny. Guys of that caliber, big pieces of gristle and meat, they’re hardly going to be tardy to their own drug pick-up party. 

“Where’d they go to, Ray?” Al’s voice is a croak when it comes out, fighting against his burning throat. 

“Shut up, Al.” 

“Ray–”

“Shut up, Al.” 

Al shrinks down in his seat, a child admonished. Ray’s hand flexes over the wheel, a man desperately trying to keep control.

They pull around to this shitheap looking place on Lover’s Lake, so bent it’s practically sliding down the embankment. A van already sits there. Black, sleek. The kind a serviceman would have or something. 

Ray kills the engine and some force from beyond prompts Al to grab at his arm before he can jump on out. 

“Ray.” 

“You’re doing this for your family,” Ray seamlessly reminds him, the gaze he turns on him empty. There’s not a waver in his voice. Like he’d been preparing this little bon mot of encouragement. “I’m doing this for mine.”

“But w–”

“Doing it for love. That’s honorable,” Ray nods. His features have taken on this waxy sheen under the moonlight that threatens to bring Al to a dry heave. He’s like a ventriloquist doll, down to the wooden way he’s moving. “I’ve done things for love that you wouldn’t believe. Now get out of the fucking truck.”

Beat for beat, Ray exits the truck, Al exits the truck, then a guy in overalls appears from the shiny black van. All of it moving in this rhythm that’s making Al’s head swim–feels like an unreality. Feels like he’ll blink, be behind the wheel of that van with a crying baby to his right. Feels like a dream. 

Al, for once, clams up. Doesn’t say anything at all, because it’s the only way he can mask the nervous twitch his face takes on when he’s this piss-pants scared. 

But it’s funny. It’s not like a drug operation he’s ever dreamed of. There’s no real shadiness to it. Guy just opens up the back of his van and tosses Ray a brick wrapped in brown parcel paper. 

“Lurch and Palo on the way?”

It’s incredible. To Al’s knowledge, this guy, this guy with all the drugs in the back of his fucking van, has never seen Ray before but implicitly assumes he’s taking point on this deal. What if he had been a cop?!

But Ray Doevski does have this thing about him. Gives you one good, meaningful look and he has you shackled for life. You can’t help but trust him. 

Still waters, man. Just like Wayne, Al thinks and feels something different rise in his throat. 

“Lurch and Palo got caught up. Car trouble.” 

Overalls guy just shrugs and helps load the rest of the packages into the passenger side of the truck. Al, he just stands there. Rooted. Watching him. Ray doesn’t pass any heed; like he’s not even there. 

“Not much of a talker, your guy?” Overalls jerks his head in Al’s direction. 

“Nah,” Ray grins in the briefest of flashes. “Strong and silent type. Right, Munson?”

A light flashes on at the porch of the half derelict looking house. Al can spot a hulking figure in the window, obscured by what has to be clouds upon clouds of smoke.

Ray raises a hand in the form’s direction, as howdy doody casual as a fucking neighborino.

“Who is that?” Al hears himself ask.

“Rick. I’ll introduce you next time. You two’ll like each other.”

Next thing Al’s physically aware of is the pile of packages at his feet as Ray guns the truck to life. This insufferable smirk curls up the corner of his mouth, the kind that Al has an immediate instinct to slug right off. 

A bad feeling, a terrible feeling twists up his guts.

It’s justified about fifteen minutes into their drive back. 

Al sees the flames licking around the plumes of black smoke first, easing up into that inky sky stabbed through with needlepoint constellations. He sees mangled hot rod hardware wrapped around a great big tree. He sees blue lights, he sees red. He sees an ambulance. He sees two stretchers and two body bags. 

“Jesus fucking Christ!” he spits, his lips feeling loose and panicky. “Ray, Jesus, we have to stop!” 

“You wanna stop?” Ray laughs, voice so light you’d swear Al had asked him to pull in so he could take a piss. “You’re sittin’ on a small fortune of narcotics and you wanna stop? Don’t be such a morbid little rubbernecker, Munson.” 

—

The untimely passing of the Gomes brothers brought with it a varied reception. The angle from one end of town was that it’s great when God deals with hoodlums before the law has to. On the other, someone had to pick up the slack and keep the seedy underbelly of this wicked little place nice and satiated. 

Ray Doevski didn’t leave Gloriana Gomes’ side from the moment she got the news about her beloved brothers. She’d broke down wailing in his waiting arms, her red lipstick bleeding at the edges.

Those same brothers who regarded the scheming nowhere kid with such distaste that they’d never let them anywhere near their sister, or their business. 

Over their dead bodies.

The only reasonable move was to remove them from the picture entirely, and step in gallantly. The hero. A picture of suave severity, backroom business acumen seeping from his blacktop hairdo. He’d fill the hole, he’d keep the cash flowing.

When he got the time to cut the Gomes’ break lines, we’ll never really know.

Al couldn’t fathom pulling off such a stunt. 

Ray never admitted to it, of course. Can’t show your hand. Not to anybody, not even your best friend. But there was always this sense of knowing… even if he didn’t do it, he was capable of it.

Once he got over the shock of it all, how quick and seamless Ray had made that elimination, Al was overtaken with admiration. Tinged with latent fear, of course, but admiration all the same. 

When Ray dropped him off at the house on Philadelphia in the wee hours of the morning, Al pressed the Hawkins High class ring into his hand. 

“Well played, my liege.”

“Couldn’t’ve done it without ya,” Ray smiled. “Pleasure doing business.”

Business was right. At Al’s feet sat serious cash. Cash he could use to pull his weight around the house. Cash he could use to get out of Hawkins entirely. Cash he could rub in Wayne’s face, show him, hey! I’m not nothing! I can move this, I can be part of something huge and heavy! I can run this fucking town!

But he didn’t have any clear designs on doing anything without Ray’s say so.

The only designs Al had were on his boxer briefs. 

He was only really sure of one thing. He’d spend his entire life trying to best Ray Doevski. Trying to get that ring back on his finger.

Just for the love of the game. 

[t0ast-ghost]

Star Trek II: Wrath Of Khan thoughts:

For this post if I could simply embed the entire movie and just write the word, ‘queer’ I would. Unfortunately you are all stuck with this, happy pride month!

Spoilers for the entire movie will be featured in this post

Going forth:

- I know what the kobayashi maru is so I know they’re not in danger but that’s some good acting Bones

- “‘Physician heal thyself.’” “Is that all you’ve got to say? What about my performance?” “I’m not a drama critic.” Thinking about this pose thinking about this pose thinking about thi-

- “Galloping around the cosmos is a game for the young, Doctor.” He’s feeling something and projecting

- “Aren’t you dead?” That’s certainly a way to greet your husband

- They’re so cute. And sad. And cute.

- tiny guys hehe. The boots got sluttier somehow

- McCoy got him glasses cause he can’t read the book without it and bring up that post that’s saying how Spock and McCoy’s gifts go together but McCoy got the logical thing and Spock got the emotional one

- Don’t quote me on this but the things I would do to that man… I wouldn’t.. but holy shit that outfit is killing me.

- hi checkov

- Carol Marcus? Doesn’t she have Kirk’s-? okay then I won’t spoil that just yet

- Creature in a jar moving under the sand

- BOTANY BAY????? Oh wait a sec I should’ve seen that coming it’s called wrath of khan

- Did they kill Chekov?

- hello Khan. That’s a very long and dramatic reveal he’s kinda hot tho

- Thinking about genetic engineering and augmentation and how they’re illegal but star trek presents cases where people now exist and it’s not the fault of the person that they are what they are so they have to question if an entire person should be illegal because of the actions of others… anyway I don’t wanna get deep into this right now, back to the movie

- Are they going to kill Chekov? (edit: not sure why I’m so fixated on thinking they’re gonna)

- WOW THAT IS CERTAINLY A SWEAT DROP

- brain worms… this sounds recently familiar

- HES READING HIS BOOK WITH THE GLASSES THEY DIDNT NEED TO SHOW HIM DOING THAT BUT THEY DID AND ITS ADORABLE OMG

- The conversation between Savik and Spock is so precious. And it’s in Vulcan. And she says “He’s more human than I expected” and it’s like that’s her commenting on Spock’s husband

- Kirk does not want to do this inspection

- McCoy does a little bounce

- “For everything there is a first time. Wouldn’t you agree, admiral” “mmhhmm” “Would you like a tranquilizer?” *Kirk shakes his head*

- I think this one has a more solid plot. I’m enjoying so far :)

- Does McCoy serve on this ship or is he just following along?

- (Had to stop watching around here because I left for the weekend so these thoughts are potentially a bit different)

- wowah! Cool ship!

- uh oh. Chekov on the monitor with the brain worm!

- khan is kinda- yeahh

- I LOVE SAAVIK! RAHHH! Also apparently Saavik is canonically half Vulcan half Romulan according to the trivia

- I like how Bones is just there :)

- Putting Spock in black… they knew what they were doing

- They’re husbands your honour. Spock knows Kirk wants to take command and isn’t to proud to get in the way of making his wife happy

- “You are my superior officer. You are also my friend. I have been and always shall be yours.” Kissing would have been less romantic

- George Takei’s voice is majestic

- “He tasks me. He tasks me and I shall have him. I’ll chase him round the moons of Nibia and round the Antares maelstrom and round perdition’s flames before I give him up.” Not obsessive at all.. nope this is something completely and totally normal to say about your nemesis

- “Uhura, have Doctor McCoy join us (Kirk and Spock) in my quarters.” Hmmmmm.. gotta inform the whole polycule about the shady government experiment

- lmao BOTH Spock and McCoy know who Carol Marcus is

- oh so terraforming… NEVERMIND REALLY FAST TERRAFORMING

- “Really, Dr. McCoy, you must learn to govern your passions. They will be your undoing.” Flirting, gentlemen?

- How and why does Starfleet continually put Spock and McCoy together? Like this alert would be sent out 24/7

- Spock and his awesome daughter Saavik

- falling

- Kirk with the breast flap down

- such a good moment… such a great moment (sorry for shitty photos)

- Kirk has to put on his little glasses <3

- Kirk does NOT fuck around

- Poor Scotty. He’s got so much emotion about his dead crew mate and the doctor apologizing to him 🥺🥺🥺

- Saavik making up rules to make sure the admiral is safe. Love her.

- “Jim, be careful.” “We will.” MCCOY IS SO BITTER. Like ‘no wishes of luck for me, Spock? Fuck you!’

- The collar on that uniform is silly

- hehe McCoy got scared by a rat. OH HE ALSO GOT SCARED BY A DEAD BODY

- Kirk’s little disappointed “oh my god” as he finds Chekov in the cupboard

- “Suppose they went nowhere.” “Then this’ll be your big chance to get away from it all.” McCoy’s not leaving Kirk, but he still looks like he wants to strangle him sometimes

- Kirk not afraid to punch a bitch

- WAIT THATS KIRKS SON?!? Isn’t it?? I thought David was Carol’s brother. But nope!

- aww dammnit I knew they were still mind controlled :/

- Saavik saving David. Y’know it would be pretty cool if there was something about Saavik, David, and Johanna meeting and maybe serving on a ship of their own.. idk just thoughts.

- ewwww brain worm.

- OH THE ECHOING “KHANNN”

- mmmm Kirk without the jacket. The white turtleneck with sleeves… also McCoy and Saavik are slaying with their turquoise and orange turtlenecks

- “Food the first order of survival.” I bet the fanfic writers had a field day with this one (cause cause it’s a reference to Tarsus IV)

- Imagine this: you’re stuck underground with your husband, your other husbands adopted daughter, your ex, her son (who’s also your son), and your old Russian navigator who’s unconscious and tried to kill you while being mind controlled by a worm which came out of his ear

- David’s got Kirk’s curls <333

- Kirk has a thing for people who look good in blue. Change my damn mind.

- “I don’t believe in a no win scenario.” He immediately calls Spock afterwards cause he’ll never lose with his husbands around

- “You lied.” “I exaggerated.” Yep, he IS that bitch

- Saavik is learning so much from them

- They still just.. let anyone onto the bridge. Like David is just there now

- oh no Scotty! Well McCoy was miraculously there to catch him

- CHEKOV BACK ON THE BRIDGE!

- Once again. Kirk does not fuck around! He just killed those guys

- “To the last I will grapple with thee.” WOW. Okay. Well.

- Khan’s about to terraform this bitch

- McCoy stopping Spock from going into the chamber..

- “You’re not going in there!” “Perhaps you’re right. What is Mr. Scott’s condition?” SIKE BITCH SPOCK JUST FUCKING NERVE PINCHED HIM. McCoy you should’ve been tipped off by the fact he 1. Said you were right and 2. Gave up trying to self sacrifice so easily

- wait why’d Spock connect to McCoy’s psi points and say remember? Remember what?

- I like there’s just a sign that flashes the word ‘radiation’ in red letters

- McCoy and Scotty BEGGING Spock not to do this. Break my fucking heart why don’t you?

- Kirk’s little run to the engine room <3

- I know he’s dying but those boots are so slutty

- Solely watching Kirk’s face is already like watching 10 puppies get killed

- “Don’t grieve, admiral.” Has me crying already. Your closest and longest friend is watching your slow descent into death and you ask him not to grieve you. You want him to know your death meant something. It meant he’d be safe and that is nothing to grieve. I’m going to be sick

- don’t touch me I’m thinking about this

- SAAVIK IS CRYING OMG GIRL ME TOO

- Kirk’s voice breaking.. god. Shatter my fucking heart why don’t you?

- if they play bagpipes at my funeral I’m rising from the dead (violins would be nice though)

- NOO HIS CUTE LITTLE GLASSES BROKE

- “They’re just words.” “But good words. That’s where ideas begin. Maybe you should listen to them.” POP OFF DAVID ! Good line

- SON REVEAL! NOT CLICKBAIT

- There’s 8 minutes left of this. Did they leave this one with Spock dead?

- “He’s really not dead, as long as we remember him.” Good words McCoy. But perhaps maybe you might have some.. assistance remembering him?

- got distracted and drew Kirk but I love the last little Spock narration. Really brave to end a WHOLE MOVIE with one of the best most well known characters being dead

Well that movie did have its pros and… khans

…

See you next time

Masterpost

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[that-was-anticlimactic]

universe of constant spinning, every end a new beginning

“So, do you have an umbrella? That was like, your thing, right? At Claw?”

Ah—not again! He can’t keep zoning out while talking to people—especially his boss.

But… why was Reigen still here? It was late and he always got to work early. It wasn’t his job to stay and coddle his employees. “I—uh—no,” he stuttered, fingers twisting anxiously. “Mine was, uh, "is” broken, sir.”

‘Broken’ was a mild way to put it. More like it got destroyed.

[or, reigen gives serizawa an umbrella]

☔️2,651 words | serirei☔️

[greenieflor]

Ugh I can't wait to be covered in tattoos head to toe I'm so excited

[volensnolenss]

𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐅𝐔𝐍

summary: you can't wait any longer, so you let your older brother's best friend fuck you;

content: nsfw!mdni, suguru is your older brother; doggy, missionary, creampie, praising;

“fuck- satoru” you’re gasping, your fingers are gripping the sheets as his cock harshly thrusting into you, “baby, stop whimpering” his head is bent towards you, and you can feel his gloating smile, “are you my good girl mmm?” he's cooing and you’re nodding, feeling how deep gojo is and he just smirked, “so proud of you, princess.”

you always teased satoru when he came to your house with suguru. you liked to casually walk past them in one of your short outfits, which is why gojo switched his focus of attention to you. and, of course, suguru noticed this by giving him a steely glance, which satoru just grinned at.

every time you looked at him with your angelic smile, he wasn't exactly touched, rather, he wanted to know what was hiding behind it.

his palm made its way and he squeezed your waist without slowing down. you feel his veiny fat cock pounding your soaking walls leaving wet slaps.

“how do you think suguru will react if he sees us?” he kisses your shoulder, barely biting the skin, you moan and your back is against to his wide chest, “hate you-” gojo just chuckled and sank his cock deeper, causing you to cry out a little, his tip is adjacent to your tight cunt.

satoru grabbed your chin and stifled your moans with a kiss. he feels your fat tears flowing down your cheeks. your mind is not focused on anything except the tension in your lower abdomen.

“you’re so pretty, baby” his cock gradually throbs in you, still inexorably shaking your walls. satoru's voice vibrates, feeling you shrink “someone's gonna cum?”

“i'm close, satoru, i can’t” you feel a tingling sensation in your limbs and sigh loudly, succumbing to satoru, who presses you close to him and grunts under his breath, “so good, so good” he cum, filling you up to the very edge and loosing his grip on you.

you rolled over on your back, your eyelashes glistening with tears. satoru approaches you, covering your body with his, “my sugar” he kisses your neck and before reaching your chest, gojo stumbled and looked at you “wanna feel you again” you're meowing by moving your hips. your clenching pussy touches his red sensitive tip and he bites his lips.

“if suguru knew what you really are,” he grins, stroking your thigh, “he would be amazed by you.” gojo spread your thighs and he saw a beautiful sight on your pussy stuffed with his cum. He can't get the idea out of his head that you're so cute looking like that.

“i'm not a child” your sullenness disappears momentarily when every inch of his cock is pushed into you again, “i see, i see” gojo whispers to you, putting his finger to your half-open mouth. you and he heard footsteps and soon a voice calling you.

“hey, what have you been doing in your room for so long?” suguru is talking to you and you see the door handle move.

“don't come in!-” his cock completely sinks into you, causing you to lose your temper.

“what? what’s going on?”

“i'm-i'm changing!” you can hardly pronounce and cover your mouth with your palm while satoru is stretching into you.

suguru lets go of the door handle in disbelief and leaves, “I'm waiting for you.” you stopped listening to him and completely surrendered to gojo. you already didn't care about anything when his cock hits your pampered and sensitive places perfectly, which makes you breathe shallowly.

“fuck, angel, you're driving me crazy" he grabs you by the hips, frantically and sloppily bumping into you. you sigh softly, casting an innocent glance at satoru with your eyes, savoring the traces of the outgoing ograsm

his muscles are strained to the very limit and every time he penetrated you, his cock was covered with cum, ”wait- shit, gonna fill you up again” he groaned and you dig your nails into his skin, feeling the spreading warmth.

gojo drapes your leg over his shoulder, stroking and kissing it. his voice sounds hoarse, but he still tries to be gentle in front of you.

“now distract your brother so that i can get out of here alive.”

[omgeto]

☆ R U GONNA STAY THE NIGHT? — fratboy!GETO SUGURU

summary:geto suguru, 'top dog' on campus, is used to ploughing through all the ditzy little freshmen without any concern for their feelings. but now his biggest challenge, is you, and it's not getting you in his bed, its getting you to stay in it.

wc: 4k (look guys I did it)

cw: afab!reader, all types of fucking, masturbation, you ride his dick, you ride his face, he gives you like two spanks, he's kinda whiny but then at the same time not. you both think you're the boss of this situationship and you are both wrong. MDNI slight angst if you squint, or maybe angst angst idk

an: first fic in 10 days, is this what you call a comeback? idk but I hope you enjoy whatever this is I TRIED OKAY I TRIED! Also thanks bae @kazushawty for betaing some and bullying me in our chats

sleeping with a frat bro wasn’t on your to do list during your freshman year, but there is something about geto suguru that you just can’t shake. you thought that you were one of many, after hearing all the rumours about him that spread throughout campus and that didn’t phase you as long as he could get you off, you didn’t care what else he did. but little did you know he is all about you and he is finally gonna let that be known tonight.

"excuse me," a whisper brushes against your ear, a deep, low hum that sends shivers down your spine. hands press lightly on your waist, shifting you ever so slightly. you glance over your shoulder, eyebrows furrowing when you realise there is more than enough room for the person to pass. it's geto suguru, and you shoot him a withering glare.

"what's the problem?" he asks, a low chuckle escaping his lips as he observes the hard look you're giving him. but instead of answering, you simply turn away, refusing to acknowledge his presence.

geto, undeterred by your cold response, takes a step closer. his presence is magnetic, and you can feel the heat of his body inches from yours. the music pulses around you, the crowd dancing and laughing, but all you can focus on is him.

“y’know me” he leans in, his breath warm against your ear, and his voice drops to a seductive murmur. "can’t resist the opportunity to get a little closer to you."

“oh fuck off geto,” you hiss, but your words had no real bite, you move your elbow to try and deter him but his stance remains fixed behind you.

“you’re a hard woman to please,” he sighs, with mock sadness, “but as frat president i can’t have one of my party guest having a bad time at one of my parties can i?”

“maybe you just aren’t trying hard enough,” you retort quickly, finally turning around to face him head on, a teasing smirk appearing on your face, “what would you know about pleasing me?”

“i think we both know what i know about pleasing you,” he offers his hand out, “c’mon let me show you a good time.” you hesitate, seeing the spark in his eyes and he puts his hand out further, urging you to take it. you close your eyes swiftly, taking a deep breath before letting him drag you into the crowd of people.

geto hand remains a reassuring hold as he drags you through the sea of intoxicated dancers. he pulls you into him, his dick already bricked up as brings it to your ass, your turn your head and raise your eyebrow, and he flashes a smile in return his hands sliding down to hold your hips as he starts to gyrate against you. you quickly match his pace, throwing back your ass, your hips swaying in time with geto and the music.

he places his hand at the small of your back, forcing you to bend slightly, as he widens his stance and forces his body into your further. your mouth parts, at the contact, and you smile at the feeling — geto suguru actually has rhythm. he’s quick to pull you up, peppering light kisses against your face as he grinds into you.

his arm hooks around your neck in a gentle but firm hold, as he bends down to your ear, his lips whispering words only meant for you, as he continues to rub his clothed dick in the crook of your ass. geto manoeuvres his hands up and down your body, his fingers teasingly toying with your tits, as he explores all you, right on the dance floor.

you could feel the heat between your legs grow, so you pull away from geto turning around to face him, his hands coming down to hold you close to him as if he was afraid you'd run away. “not bad huh?” he asks, knowing that you feel the exact same as he does, you both didn’t even notice all the eyes on you, as the crowd of partygoers just witnessed you almost fuck on the dance floor.

before you could even respond, you could feel the wind being knocked out of you as a broad chest collides right into you. geto keeps you upright, so you don’t fall on your ass and places you behind him as he steps to the person responsible for almost knocking you over. 

as the fog of the moment clears, you see the cause of the commotion—gojo satoru, geto's best friend, is in a blissful state of drunkenness, a wide grin plastered across his face.

"heeeeyy, suguru," gojo greets loudly, his bleary eyes darting between the two of you. "is this you, yeah?" his words slur slightly, but it's clear he's trying to figure out the situation. geto doesn't respond verbally, but the subtle smirk on his face and the bashful look on yours speak volumes. "you know what we could do to make this night greater," gojo announces with an exaggerated flourish.

geto sighs, on a usual day he’s all up for entertaining his friend but tonight all he wants to do is entertain you. “what is it satoru?”

“shots!” he cheers, looking around the room to be completely ignored, in too much of a drunken state to even notice, “c’mon sugu, you love shots, you can even bring this pretty little thing you’ve got with you.” he finishes, gojo’s eyes linger on you a little too long as he sizes you up, his bottom lip pulling into his teeth and all you could do is raise your eyebrows up at him, puzzled.

“bro,” geto commands, and gojo’s eyes snap to his friends as he raises his hand in mock surrender, “just take us to the fucking shots.” the subtle tension between the two guys didn't go unnoticed by you, but you brush it off, chalking it up to frat boys being frat boys. 

it was soon forgotten anyways, with you sprawled across a table of the frat house, drunken partygoers jeering at you as your shirt is half pulled up just stopping at your breast and gojo is cheering as he’s sprinkles salt on you and lines your stomach with shots.

“care to do the honours,” gojo taunts geto as he finishes pouring the final shot. geto sends a glare his way ignoring him as he makes his way over to you, giving you a long stripe of his tongue down your stomach, before quickly downing all the shots on your stomach, his eyes stuck on you. gojo offers him a lime, which he snatches straight out of his hands. gojo tuts, shaking his head, “someones touchy.” and just to add fuel to the fire, gojo has his own lick at your stomach, more slower and sensual then geto’s was, and he pours himself a shot, giving you a wink as he drinks it.

“what the fuck man?” geto interrogates, stepping to his friend, slightly wobbling as the shots he just backed in swift succession, hit him quickly.

“what’s wrong suguru?” gojo teases with a playful grin, he wasn’t dumb he knew who you were before he even saw you, geto talks about you all the time. so when gojo finally saw you with him, with geto still downplaying how he hard he actually fucks with you, he couldn’t help but fuck with his friend a bit, “you jealous?”

“don’t even start with me ‘toru,” geto warns, and you begin to sit up with an eye roll, you couldn’t deny you were a bit tipsy, but no amount of alcohol could make you bear to see this lame exchange of fray boy bravado. 

“oh whats your issue man,” gojo brushes him off, going to pour himself another drink, but geto is hot on his tails. “bro we literally always share the hot freshmen, what makes her any different.”

“because she just is,” geto snaps, in an attempt of a hush tone but you hear him loud and clear.

“i think i’m going to go,” you say out loud, and geto hears you pausing, slightly panicked. forgetting all about gojo his focus back onto you.

“no no, you don’t have to leave, we were having a good time right?” he stammers, rushing to persuade you stay. you couldn’t deny that you were having a good time, geto suguru is actually fun to be around, and the way he was staring at you, begging for you just stay with him, hits you right in your core. he pulls you close to him as he murmurs to you, “i know you felt what i felt when we were dancing, just give me a chance and like i said earlier i could really show you a good time. if you let me.”

geto just wanted to get you alone, he could see that the heavy noise of the club was clearly not your vibe, but he couldn’t let you leave just yet. he offers out his hand just like he did at the start of the party, but this time you didn’t hesitate to take it. letting him cart you off upstairs as you both ignore that wolf whistles coming from gojo, “you better get some suguru, go and get some for the both of us!”

when you get up into geto’s room, you try to disregard the slew of people strung out in different rooms across the house. but geto was confident, he had no reason not to be with you in his arms, wanting him just as badly as he wants you.

“c’mere,” he beckons you, as he sits down, patting down his thigh. you happily skip over to him, perching yourself right on his thigh, your arms hooking around his neck, your hands clasping together, locking him in. you face inches closer to his, your lips part ready to taste him but he halts you, smirking as he says “you're cute, y’know that right?”

“how so?” you ask, entertaining him with an eye roll.

“you always sit in class with me, trying to act all bothered by my presence,” he comments, “but turns out all it takes is for you to come to one of my parties, and for you to dance with me, to get you cumming in my lap… literally.”

“are we gonna fuck?” you say bluntly, catching him off guard, “or are you gonna continue to talk nonsense.” even though he wasn’t talking nonsense, he was right, tonight really did change your perspective on geto. but you weren’t dumb he was the president of the frat, and his best friend gojo’s comments earlier only further cemented the type of people frat guys are.

you press your lips against his before he has a chance to respond, your tongue darting in his mouth as he moulds into you. one of his hands works its way down your body whilst the other stays caressing your face. you groan against him, driving yourself against his thigh, your clothed cunt, already dripping just from the friction alone. 

“you getting off on my thigh yeah?” he teases between kisses, and you nod, desperately pushing yourself into him. he hikes you up further, his lips still moving in tandem with yours, and he spreads you into lap so you could properly straddle him. you both had quick movements, both of you are needy and wanting of the other. geto’s hands slide down your back and keep your ass in a firm hold as you begin to rock against him.

geto pulls away from you, his lips already plump from the way you’ve been gnawing at them. you pout at the removal but he laughs, “patience, princess.” but you ignore him your hands darting into his pants, ready to free his dick and land it, but he places his hand on your wrist, his eyebrows raising in warning, “what did i just say?”

“to take out your dick and sit on it right?” you shrug coyly, chuckling at your joke, and he smiles, but the warning in his eyes doesn’t leave.

“strip,” he commands, the single word having you folding like a chair, as you fling off your clothes leaving you in your underwear. he pulls you by the waistband of you panties, ripping them off you in one swift motion, biting his lip as he’s met with your wet pussy. “she’s so pretty,” he comments, flicking at your clit and as he slides his finger down your slit, just about to enter he pauses, putting his finger in his mouth instead of in you. he swirls it around his tongue, “sweet.”

“suguru,” you whine, at his teasing, “this isn’t funny.”

“play with yourself,” he says, disregarding whatever you were saying.

“what happened to you giving me a good time,” you argue.

“c’mon show me how bad you want it,” he persuades with a grin, leaning back, waiting for you to put on a show for him, “i’ll make it worth your while.”

despite everything, you could just never tell geto, no. it’s the way he looks at you, the way he talks to you, how he carries himself. with how he is just leaning back in his bed, his eyes low in anticipation as he waits for you to pleasure yourself for him, exciting you to do whatever he wants.

your hand works its way down to your pussy, your thumb landing on your clit rubbing against it as your finger part your sobbing cunt, letting geto see how wet you really are for him. “f-fuck,” you moan out, as you push your fingers inside of you, your eyes clenching shut at the contact.

“oi,” geto calls out to you, your eyes opening and landing on him, “keep your eyes on me. okay?” and you nod, as you quicken your pace, watching as geto palms his dick at your performance.

“this is boring,” you complain as you continue to rub at your pussy, trying your best to reach your climax on your own, “need your fingers, need your di—”

“keep going,” he orders, smirking, he could tell by the way your stance weakens and your legs tremble, that you were close. you were predictable and even though you were hungry for his dick, he knew you’d be able to cum with just your fingers and his eyes on you. call him cocky, but the influence he had over you was unmatched.

you roll your eyes at him, but you listen, continuing to finger yourself as he told you. your mouth parts, and you exhale feeling yourself about to cum, you push your digits in you harder, and your eyes stay fixated on geto and he shrugs his shoulders letting you do as you please—for once. you moan loudly as you cum all over your fingers, releasing hard as you spill out all down your thighs.

“see wasn’t so hard was it?” he taunts, pulling out his dick that has been hard from the moment he saw you at the party. he gives it a few strokes, pre cum oozing from the tip and you hungrily pounce on him, your pussy still dripping with your cum as you hover over his dick. you pause before sliding down on him, hissing at the feeling of you stretching you wide. “fuck man,” he groans out as he feels you clench over him, “your shit’s so tight.”

you bounce up and down on him, as he thrusts up into you, his hips hitting yours in a hard flurry of repeated connections. you press your hands flat on his chest, as his hands stay cupping your ass, keeping you upright as he drills into you.

his pace is unmatched, as you try and keep up, grinding your pussy down on him, desperate to have him stuff you up even more. “sugu ‘ts too much, f-fuck you’re relentless.”

“c-cant help it,” he stammers, still maintaining his merciless strokes, his dick twitching inside of you, “your pussy is just too good, or should i say my pussy,” he finishes with a wink. 

“y-your pussy?” you retort, laughing at his seriousness.

“yeah it’s mine right?” he interrogates, sending a slap to your ass to prompt further confirmation, “tell me it’s mine.” you don’t respond, a teasing smile spreading across your face, as you stare down at him, still riding his dick. but geto pauses, halting your movements and he slightly eases you up off of his dick, “what was that?” he prompts.

“it’s yours,” you give in quickly, not even bothering to entertain it any further with how needy you are to cum, “of course it's yours.” satisfied, geto charges his dick back into you with no warning, and you immediately go back to pushing your ass down on him, spreading your legs wider to straddle him more, taking him in deeper.

“t-that’s all i needed to hear,” he stutters, feeling himself about to cum, so he gives you a few sloppy thrusts before easing you off of him, cumming all over your stomach. you're quick to follow, your cum spraying his sheets, as you slump over him, dripping down on his body. “i made sure to not cum in you this time, i know how angsty you get over that shi.”

“oh how gentlemanly of you,” you deadpan, “all gives love a stomach covered in salt and semen.”

“well what would you prefer? your pussy filled with my cum,” he taunts, smirking as you still, “i know i would.” you didn’t answer pulling your sticky body away from his, as you come down off of your high.

“are you gonna stay the night?” geto asks with a grin it was like clockwork, everytime you finish fucking he’d always ask the same question, never getting bored when you mutter the same tired words.

“you know i don’t sleep in frat houses suguru.”

he shrugs casually, propping himself up on his elbows and admiring your naked figure. "you fuck in them though," he remarks, as if that justified everything, "so what's the difference?"

rolling your eyes, as you begin to do the laborious task of trying to locate your underwear—geto always had the habit of throwing them across the room. "the difference is," you pause, looking over your shoulder at him, "I can wake up tomorrow in my own bed, feeling just a little less gross for even fucking you in the first place."

a mock expression of hurt crosses his face as he crawls up behind you on the bed, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. "oh, how you wound me, princess," he coos, his breath sending shivers down your spine, "just stay."

“no, i shouldn’t” you argue, letting out an exhale as his lips attach to your collarbone, sucking against your skin, pulling and nipping at it with his teeth. 

you try to distract yourself by putting on your bra but geto is quick to fling it off you, his mouth trailing down to your tits peppering kisses all over your nipples, murmuring “stay” between each kiss. 

he takes your boob into his mouth, sucking on its flesh as his other hand toys with the other, massaging your nipples with just enough roughness to have you writhing in his palms. your back arches involuntarily, your tits pushing further into his touch, aching to feel him further, “see,” he smirks as he toys with you, “you do wanna stay.”

“i won’t, if you keep talking” you warn, gritting your teeth as he pinches your nipples, rolling them between his fingers. “now c’mere, convince me on why i should stay,” you lift his head off your tits with your fingers, eyeing him down as he stares back at you with pure lust in his eyes. you press a kiss to his lips before steering his head down towards your pussy.

“since when do you run things?” he doesn’t budge, his eyebrows slightly raise as he chuckles.

“you’re the one that wants me to stay, no?” you counter, your eyes locked with his.

“well what i want is for you to come sit on my face and my head can stay sandwiched between your thighs, how about that?” his grin widens as your mouth parts, speechless. he tugs you by the arm close to the head of the bed, you climb up his body your pussy still wet from he fucked you before, leaking out your juices all over his chest. “so hop on girl, a man’s gotta eat,” he mutters impatiently, smacking your ass to urge you onto his lips.

he takes you in hungrily, his mouth enclosing on your pussy with such greed that he is practically drowning in your scent. he laps at your cunt, his tongue giving such long, deep strokes which have your hands pressing against the walls, grinding down on his face. 

geto grips and claws at your ass, he grins, his nose burying into your pussy as your thighs clench tighter around his head. “s-sshit suguru,” your hands slap against the wall as you squeal out, trying to grasp at something to keep you afloat, as the way geto is working your pussy and how his fingers dig into your ass cheeks, has you buckling over about to topple off of him. 

he hums against your pussy, the vibrations jolting right through you, having you moan even louder. his tongue darts against your clit, swirling at it vigorously, nipping at it lightly with his teeth. 

“sugu i—” you pant, trying to ease off of him, the pleasure getting too much for you, but his hands stroke both your thighs keeping them in place. “bout to cum sugu.”

you could hear him mumble something, you didn’t care what, but the two taps he gave to your thigh let you know you could release all over him. you cry out as you cum, feeling yourself spill out all over his face. geto continues to eat you up, drinking in everything he can take, his chin getting covered by what he couldn’t swallow.

 “you are way too good at that.” you gasp as you slowly come up off his face, your breathing still laboured.

“only the best for you princess,” he jests with his eyes half open, a blissful smile on his lips as his tongue swipes at the remains of you left on his face.

“yeah me and all the other freshmen you fuck,” you mutter, to yourself but he heard you loud and clear.

“what was that?” he urges, wanting you to repeat your claims. before you started fucking geto, you knew he was and what he was about and technically you didn’t care, you only wanted him for his mouth game—which proved to be very useful. but when he tries to sweet talk you you couldn’t help but be reminded of what kind of guy he is.

“i think you heard me,” you shrug, “i’m saying it to insult you or anything, i'm just telling the truth. you like to fuck everbody and everything.”

“wait? is this why you won’t stay the night?” he says, sitting up, staring you down. 

“you must be only a pretty face, if you thought otherwise,” you laugh at his shock.

“no it’s just i think its crazy that you just won’t stay,” he complains, glaring at you as you put back on your clothes, “we could get to know each other properly.”

“like we agreed when we first started messing around,” you cringe, pitying the pouty look on his face. “let’s just… keep this casual”

“but that was ages ago,” he tries to reason, “some may say you’re just using me for sex.”

“suguru we use each other for sex,” you respond quickly, you step towards him pressing a peck on his pouty lips, with a smirk on your face as you see his lips chasing yours as you pull away, “well i'm gonna go now, i’m sure i’ll see you at one of your many lame parties you and your people always throw. it’s been fun as always” geto raises his eyebrows in acknowledgement, blowing out a hard breath, as he watches you strut out of his bedroom.

“she’ll stay the night eventually.” he murmurs to himself, maybe it’s wishful thinking, but a guy can dream.

AN: she’s only gone and done it. but yeah how was it guys 🥺? There’s only two lines in this whole fic that I actually thought “damn I cooked here” if you guess the lines you win a reward. ALSO IDK WHY I WAS DROPPING HINTS AT SOME GOJO ON SOME MR STEAL UR GIRL TYPE SHIT but I just went with it. But geto is sooo sweet HE JUST WANTS U TO STAY and you don’t even fuckinnn stay 😭😭 looool aren’t u mean. Technically I wrote the fic backwards it was meant to start with the “r u gonna stay the night” AND then gojo and geto would have a a conversation about you AND the it would end w the party and u tucking but I wanted to keep if one continuous flow and ANYWAYS this an is becoming a diary entry so LMK UR THOUGHTS PLEASE CAUSE THIS HAD ME STRETCHED

[0rph1x]

random fuckin life update ig idk im upset fjkashdfkj

ive had an incredibly shitty last. five days. like ive lost so much progress and i got so much worse so quick. so what if i just dont talk to anyone and stay in my room and find something to binge watch while i just sit in bed like >=[ bc im incredibly angry HKSJGHKJSHGK

[e-m-ma-lmfao]

can I request some cute fluff with Astarion - I think something cute would be tav’s never worn a dress and they put one on and Astarion is just mindblow by how good they look? 🥺

maybe he can do some chivalrous acts as well~

She Looks Breathtaking

pairing : astarion x (fem) reader

summary : astarion has never seen you in a dress, you haven’t been in one since you were taken from baldur's gate. you both find it hard to hide your excitement.

warnings : none :)

authors note: I hope you like this anon! (first, i finally played baldur's gate. second, i'm going to try and pump out the requests that I haven't gotten to.)

“Oh! Look how pretty this is!” 

You turn your head to look towards Karlach’s booming voice, much too loud for the small space you were in. She held up a dress, something you hadn’t thought about wearing in months. You hadn’t had any important events to attend.

Walking over to her side, you take the fabric between your fingers. “It’s beautiful..”

“You should get it. I think you’d look great, and I bet Astarion would like it too.” She nudged at your side, teasing. Your face flushed, and you ran your fingers along the hem of the dress, avoiding Karlachs gaze. She likes to poke fun at the obvious crush you had developed on Astarion, and everytime she did you regretted telling her more and more. 

Eventually, you find a small paper attached to the fabric showing the price of the dress, eyes widening at the disgustingly low price. 

“When would I even get a chance to wear it? It would go to waste, just weigh my bag down.” Karlach huffs, taking the price tag and reading it for herself.

“Are you kidding me? Even if you don’t wear it, you’d be a fool to ignore this price. Maybe you will attend some noble party when we get to Baldur's Gate!” She was way too excited but her energy almost made you agree with her, the dress was so cheap even if it went unworn for a long time. And you hadn’t worn one in..you couldn’t even remember.

You thought about it for a moment before moving for your coin pouch, pouring the amount into your hand and handing the coins to the trader. They slip out of your hand much faster than you'd care to admit, hiding your excitement from Karlach proving to be a challenge. “Don’t say a word to anyone, Karlach, I mean it.”

“Fine. But I better get to see you in it, at least try it on for me when we get back to camp!” You shake your head, amused by Karlachs childish antics, but you yourself can’t help but feel a little bit excited by the idea of dressing up. 

When you returned to camp that night you had forgotten about the dress in your bag, slipping your mind amidst the constant thought of being attacked or having to talk your way out of a hostile situation. 

So when Karlach came bouncing over to your side, your tent tucked away in a corner secluded from most of your party to keep your privacy, you could only give her a confused look. She seemed so excited and you had no idea why, and she was beginning to return the confusion.

“You gonna put on the dress or just make me stand here?” Oh! You let your bag fall to the ground, crouching down to rummage through its contents, searching for the dress. 

When you found it you laid it over your bag, standing back up to remove the leather from your body. You could hear Karlachs giggles as you shimmied out of your much too tight leather pants, only to have to pull the dress over your body right after.

Your hair was up, but you untied it and allowed your hair to fall over your shoulders. When you turned back to her, she stared at you with awe. “Woah..”

“What?” 

“You look..nice.” You giggled, which made her laugh along with you, both of you unaware of the approaching footsteps. His eyes trace along your figure, and he allows himself a moment of greediness to take in the full effect you have. You seem so happy, a smile appearing on his cheeks as he watches you smile gleefully and so..so..carefree. You're finally allowing yourself to have fun, and not worrying about protecting everyone else around you. And Gods.. you’re breathtaking. 

He would never admit to a living soul, or a non-living one for that matter, but he had been infatuated with you since the moment you asked him to join your party. You made him weak, and with his newfound freedom he wasn’t sure what the correct way to deal with it was. Obviously he could use his charm to lure you into his bedroll, but he wanted more, he wanted to be the reason you felt giddy enough to show your teeth with a smile. He wanted to be the reason you laughed, and fooled around, the reason you felt safe enough to have fun. 

He takes a deep breath in, to regain his confidence and charm, and he proceeds towards the two of you.  

Until his voice filled your ears and caused your eyes to shoot in his direction, “Well well..don’t you look nice.” 

“Astarion!” He approached the two of you slowly, staring at you and paying no mind to Karlach’s presence. 

“I’m gonna leave you two alone..” Karlach let out an awkward chuckle, making eye contact with you with wiggly eyebrows before sneaking away.

You look back towards Astarion, who is unable to make eye contact with you as his eyes roam along your body, preoccupied. You're certain he doesn't even realise Karlach has left from beside the two of you.

“Where did you get this pretty thing?” He looks back up to meet your eyes, smirk big enough to show his fangs which sends a nervous shiver through your body. A tingle in your neck reminds you of the favour you allowed him. Your arms cross against your chest, suddenly more nervous in his presence than ever before. 

“Just something I picked up from a merchant..” 

“In all the time I’ve traveled by your side , I’ve never seen you look so.. elegant.” 

“Wow thanks..” You roll your eyes with a snort, crossing your arms tighter across your chest.

“Now c’mon darling..you know I mean you no disrespect. Only pointing out the obvious. May I?” At first you're unsure what he’s even asking permission for, but when you see his hands reaching out to touch you, you give him a nod. 

He doesn’t hesitate, hands finding your hips. “See…usually you’re wearing that menacing leather, always so serious.” Your face scrunches up at his words, you’ve never thought your armour to be very menacing nor did you believe you were ‘always serious’. Only when the situation called for it. 

The heat of his skin can be felt even through the fabric. His thin fingers squeeze into the plush of your hips, then run along your waist, feeling the fabric between his fingers. “But right now, in this dress, with your hair undone,” He brings his hand up to run his fingers through your hairs, “You look so free. You’re beautiful darling..so beautiful.” 

You feel your face relax, and it only softens more when Astarions eyes meet yours once more and his pupils are blown . The softest smile blossoms on his face, which turns out to be contagious cause not soon after a cheek burning smile is on your face. Face hot as you look into his eyes, his hands still on your waist, thumbs massaging your skin through your dress. 

“I should take it off, I don’t want to get it dirty.” 

“Could you humor me?”

“Humor you? How so, Astarion?” 

“Keep it on, just for an hour. It’s been a long time since I spent an evening with a woman as beautiful as you..” 

[rosebudfics]

Professor!reader and severus being married but hiding it from the students, bc they dont want the gossip and are just private people in general BUT one day sev forgets to take off his wedding ring and the golden trio go on this whole mission to find out who hes married to; completely freaking out when it turns out hes with reader cause theyre complete opposites while teaching

(Sorry if this is too long or doesnt make sense :^ i had this scenario in my head for some time lol)

Secret Lovers

Severus Snape x Professor! Reader

Warnings: use of the name "git" a lot lol, reader is the astronomy teacher but you can swap it out for any class, Snape smacks Ron and Harry

A/N: I LOVE THIS REQUEST SO MUCH OMG!?!?!?! also this isnt really set in any specific year but its more leaning towards where theyre older since snape you know.. hits ron and harry over the head and harry has the map <3

You and Severus had managed to keep your relationship secret for a couple years now, with the exception of only Minerva and Dumbledore knowing.

Why does anyone else need to know anyway? It was none of their business!

So one regular morning when you and Sev were getting ready for the day in the early hours of the morning, he had somehow forgotten to take his golden band off. You both would usually keep them in a little ring box at home so they were hidden but safe and put them back on at night, but today Severus had just forgotten to take it off.

You would bid your goodbyes at home before you left together, getting one last kiss in before heading back to Hogwarts, then Severus would put his usual cold face back on.

You both headed to your classrooms like normal, Severus still failing to notice the wedding band still on his finger.

When classes started, everything was going how it usually would: he would deduct house points, snapping at kids whenever they would interrupt his teaching, etc. That is until Hermione noticed a particular shine off her teachers hand.

Hermione looked closer before very quietly gasping. "Holy cricket!" She whispered so only Harry and Ron could hear her.

“What?” Ron asked curiously but not very quietly, earning the attention of Severus.

“On Professor Snape’s hand, he was wearing a wedding ring!” She said in a hushed voice.

“You must be crazy Herminone, there's no way that he’s married to someone.” Harry chuckled.

“Yeah, no ones gonna want to let alone be in any relationship with that old git-” Ron was interrupted by getting smacked over the head by Severus, followed up by Harry getting smacked as well.

Hermione just kept quiet, keeping her giggle to herself.

“Would you mind repeating yourself Mr. Weasley?” Severus sneered down at him.

“...no, sorry.” Ron grumbled.

“Mhm. 5 points from Gryffindor, and that's me being generous.”

After class, Ron, Hermione, and Harry all gathered at the library at break. “Are you sure you saw a ring, Hermione? Was it even on his ring finger?” Harry asked as he sat down some books in front of him.

“I'm certain! The real question is though, to who?” Hermione thought for a minute.

“Harry, why can't we just use your cloak to spy on him?” Ron questioned like it was obvious.

“Brilliant!” Harry exclaimed but Hermione smacked him in the arm.

“That's invading his privacy! It's terribly rude.” She scoffed.

Ron then mocked her, earning a smack. After a while of begs and pleas, she finally caved.

“Alright, alright!” She sighed.

They then all made their way back to the dorm to get everything they needed. Harry also grabbed the Marauders Map so it would be easier to find Snape. And then off they went on their little adventure to hunt down his wife.

They had to do some weaving and dodging to not bump into anyone (they bumped into Neville at some point, terrifying him) until they made it to the staff room. Harry looked down at his map to find Snape and you, they're astronomy teacher, alone.

“What are Professor Snape and Professor y/n doing together?” Ron asked in a confused voice.

Harry hushed him and then looked into the keyhole to find Snape and you talking to eachother.

“Are you sure no one saw the ring?” you asked again.

“Yes, dear, I am sure of it.” Snape said in a somewhat annoyed tone. “If someone did see it, I would be getting hounded with questions!”

“Yeah well not if all the students are terrified of you!” you sighed. “Look I'm not mad, I don't want you to think that, it's just we've gone this long keeping it secret it feels weird to just slip up like this”

Severus stepped towards you and grabbed your face in his hands. “Listen love, no one will know. Maybe in the future we can be more open about it.” He then bent down and kissed her gently, and you wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him closer.

Harry gasped quietly and backed up. He was about to say something before he heard footsteps walking towards the door. “We gotta get outta here!”

They all then scurried off down the hall back to the dormitory.

“Harry, what did you see? What were they doing in there?” Ron asked.

“Its professor y/n, that's who he's married to!” Harry was slightly out of breath from running.

“Professor y/n?? But they're so.. so different!” Hermione was shocked.

“You must be seeing things mate, there's NO way Proffesor y/n is married to the old git.” Ron scoffed.

“I'm telling you! They were talking about how he had forgotten to take his ring off or something and then they kissed!” Harry gushed.

They then talked about why you would ever want to marry Snape for the rest of break. Interestingly enough they next class was with you!

Since you were an extremely nice and open teacher, they felt more comfortable talking to you about it.

"So professor y/n, have you been seeing anyone lately?" Ron asked before class actually started.

You were caught off guard to say the least. "Well... I dont really see how my romantic life concerns any of you," you laugh whole heartedly.

Ron then smirked. "You never denied it. Perhaps another Proffesor that teaches here!" Hermione pinched his side as a warning to shut up.

"I don't know what your getting at, Ron" you chuckle becoming a little worried.

"Well the man I'm thinking of is a mean, old, cranky git that likes potions-"

"Thats enough! You don't ever talk about another Proffesor like that!" You scolded him.

"Alright, sorry proffesor... but im right, aren't i?" Ron smirked.

Harry and Hermione perked up to listen.

You sighed, before making sure that no other student or teacher was around, nd then said "You must not tell anyone."