#preferable from the front row

[lazzarella]

I just want ONE quiet day!!! Just one!!!!

[verxca]

Imagine Jason being so soft and sweet and clingy with you that when his siblings see him in a store with you they have to do a double take. It would be extra funny if his family didn't know about you yet xD

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆ ୨ ♡ ୧ ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆ [ imagine #03 ]

[ j. todd ft d. grayson ] ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆ ୨ ♡ ୧ ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

── . ✦ in which dick spots something very unusual from his brother at the grocery store.

Late night grocery trips were preferable to Dick for two primary reasons; One, being as the stores were usually less busy, meaning less people would spot him. And two, crime was typically preformed at night here in Gotham, meaning he could keep an extra eye out. It was like killing three birds with one stone!

Turning the corner, Dick hummed a random tune to himself upon entering another produce isle. He was just here to pick up some cereal and butter, nothing too important. As he leaned down to grab what he needed, a friendly couple entered the isle from the other side— giggling and holding hands.

Not wanting to seem nosy or rude, he didn’t stare, still scanning to find the brand he liked.

“Nope- All they do is knock shit over, claw your back, and piss all over the fucking furniture.” The guys voice from across the aisle sounded familiar, a little too familiar— almost like his brother Jason’s. But he ruled that one out quickly… It was obvious that the dude and Jay acted completely different. Though, the mysterious guy did sound like one of his old friends from high school. Maybe it was him— Damn, how long had it been? What a coincidence to see him here!

Dick looked up— fully expecting to run into an old friend. Yet, the realization of his mistake came crashing down like a punch to the gut as the boyfriend moved his face into view, eyes still glued down to his girl. Oh, it was Jason! What was he doing here at this hour? Dick chuckled, looking back down before snapping his neck up for maybe the fourth time.

Wait— that was Jason?

“But, like- Same for dogs! You have to walk them twenty times a week, and pick up their shit too. No animals are easy to care for, but cats are definitely easier!” You argued with your boyfriend, squeezing his hand to try and enforce your point.

You two had been dating for a good couple months now, but still, Jay was ever so reluctant to get an animal! Every time you brought it up, he’d make the same five points. “Kay- That’s fair, babe, but-”

Jay teased once more, laughing as you tried to protest. Fuck, was it ever cute when you got all defensive like that. It was definitely Jason’s guilty pleasure, and he couldn’t help but tease you when the opportunity was in front of him— practically begging to be taken. Jay quickly leaned down for quick kiss, hands moving to your waist. He hadn’t even realized the two of you weren’t alone in the aisle, nor that the other person here was his brother.

You couldn’t help but just melt into your boyfriend’s touch as he kissed you— moving his lips down your jaw and neck. Your hands steadied on his abdomen, as he lavished your collar in desperate affection.

“Holy fuck.”

Dick was completely in shock. Jason was not only acting clingy with someone— completely vulnerable and desperate, but was also with a god forsaken secret girlfriend he had never told anyone about! It showed in the way he kissed the girl’s neck, and in the way he held her tight, that Jay was in love. But still, was this all some fucking witchcraft? How in gods name did someone get him to open up and act all lovey-dovey like that?

He didn’t know what to do, but sure as hell didn’t want to get caught. Dick slipped out of the asile, your collective giggles still faintly audible as he entered the parallel row. He was debating on taking a photo or not… but he didn’t want to invade the girl’s privacy.

Instead, he made a mental note of the encounter, checking out and leaving, already picturing the faces of his family when he’d bring it up at the next dinner.

[totalswag]

hii, I’m not sure if you take request still but if so is there a possible way you can do a drew x singer!reader one shot take on how Sabrina “arrests” her fans before performing Juno for being too hot but the reader does it to Drew during her shows please 🫶🏼

arrested for being too hot — DREW STARKEY

authors note THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING THIS!! my request box is still open so feel free to send me any ideas regarding singer!reader or regular fic ideas you’d like me to write. this was so much writing too. thank for all the love on my last fic lovies <3

taglist ⤕ if you would like to be notified every time i post you will type in your username then be all set.

summary "arresting" drew, your boyfriend, during your show before performing your song from your new album.

warning(s) none!

You are on tour for your new album in-front of thousands of fans almost every night. You worked hard on this album and it turned out wonderfully. If it weren’t for the amazing fans of yours, you don’t know where you’d be in your career— they are the reason you are doing this.

Half way into the show— going amazing. The crowd tonight isn't disappointing you. Everything you've hoped for on this tour. You've performed eighteen songs and about to go onto your nineteenth. Played musical spin the bottle not long ago which was really fun.

Before Juno, you begin with a small "skit" where you call someone out in the crowd, arresting them for being too hot. This became a thing after your first show of the tour and doing it ever since. Plus, fans absolutely love it. Interacting with your fans has always been something you did and create those bonds.

Drew, your boyfriend, is attending the show with Madelyn Cline, a mutual friend and cast-mate of Drew's. You told him earlier today you wanted to arrest him in the middle of the show to get the audience excited and it would be fun.

Drew was all for it, and he didn't want you to tell him what you were going to say—he prefers surprises.

Your pink, glittering, dazzling clothing was sparkling in the lights. You pressed your free hand to your brow as though you were looking around for a call. With security, you could see Drew and Madelyn making their way to the front.

You begin by adjusting your earpiece while moving around the stage in your long skirt. "You guys know that moment when you are in a room filled with such beautiful looking people that you start to feel overwhelmed?" When fans applaud, you smile.

"Oh, girls, I think I just seen my future husband in the front row! Oh my god, girls, come here, come here," you say anxiously into the microphone, beckoning them over and waving your free hand.

You turn to face Drew as the girls approach you, asking, "Do you see that gorgeous looking man over in the front row with his arms crossed in the tan shirt?" You speak into the microphone aloud, pointing to Drew in the crowd.

Your girls joyfully waved at Drew while placing their hands on your shoulder. As Drew blushes on the big screen, the crowd reflexively turns up the volume in the arena. 

"What's your name handsome?" With your head cocked slightly to the right toward your shoulder, you inquire in jest. 

"Drew!" You can hear him when he places his hands on the side of his lips. He gives you a childlike smile and a flushed face.

You say, "I'm sorry I couldn't get that?" as though you couldn't hear him. Leaning forward more, you place your free hand behind your ear.

He shakes his head and utters "Drew!" a little louder. 

"Oh my Drew, I must say that you must be a magnet because you drew me in" brings a smile to your face. Your tone indicated that you were trying quite hard not to laugh, yet you kept your calm brilliantly.

Fans had their phones out, capturing the entire interaction. Nobody would have expected Drew to be the person arrested at your gigs since the tour began.

"Drew, you are under arrest for being too hot," you say aloud, smiling and pointing at him— fanning yourself, moving your hips side to side as the sound of sirens going off with blue and red lights behind.

You put your left elbow against your girls shoulder, "guys do you ever just see someone so good looking that you just don't know what to do and all your clothes fall off in that moment" your long skirt slips off smoothy.

"Like your brain just like malfunctions and like I just wanna handcuffed to you now like," one of your girls puts the pink fluffy handcuffs into your hand, you kneel down, "do you know what I mean? Will you take these from me?"

Drew is overwhelmed in this very moment— it's very obvious how much you are affecting him. Drew gives you a gimme me gesture with his fingers, ready to catch the hand cuffs.

He takes them in his hands, looks down, and feels the smooth texture of the fuzzy. He tilts his head to the side before slowly glancing up at you with a smirk—keep in mind that he's still on the big screen.

"We're gonna sing this one to you, Drew."

Juno's song intro starts playing. You wave goodbye to Drew and Madelyn as you return to the center of the stage. You could hear the two begin speaking to fans in the distance.

Drew and Madelyn met you in the dressing room following the show. After giving Madelyn a hug and thanking her for attending the event, you moved to approach Drew and put your arms around his neck while grinning.

"That was insane," Madelyn exclaimed, pulling you into a hug. "What about the full call-out and the handcuffs? Iconic! "You're the talk of the night; everyone is crazy about it."

You giggled as your face heated up. "It seemed right." "You should have seen his face!"

She laughs, "I got the whole thing on video, I'll send it to you later."

"I'm going to give you two some alone time, but you did such an amazing job tonight and looked so hot doing it," Madelyn adds, taking your hands in her and wiggling her brows. 

"Thank you, babe. I love you always," you say, hugging her before she leaves you and Drew alone. 

When you close the door, Drew comes behind you, placing his arms around your waist and kissing you on the cheek, making you laugh with the tenderness of his lips.

"I'm so proud of you baby, you did such an amazing job on stage and looked unbelievable in your outfits made me feel like the luckiest guy in the entire world." He expresses emotionally, which uplifts you. 

"Coming from you, it warms my heart baby. Forever grateful to have you in my life," you smile softly, leaning against his chest, feeling that sense of warmth you always feel whenever you are with him.

"And I'm forever grateful for you" he quietly responds, kissing the top of your head.

"So what are we gonna do with those pink fuzzy handcuffs?"

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[jinwoosbabyboo]

I Object!

How I imagine the lads men would object at your wedding. A/N: I don't like cheating tropes so we're gonna say this was an arranged marriage that you didn't want to be in anyway. Also these men are built so different this practically wrote itself. [Requested by: aethercoreria]

Zayne

Type: Silently objects

I don’t think Zayne would be on his Shrek tip running in yelling “I objeeeeccct!” He’d try his best to respect the fact that you’re marrying another man when he knows for a fact that you’re in love with him. He’d plan to work the day of your wedding, but you (unfortunately?) hand delivered an invite so now he has to show up. He’d sit quietly through the ceremony, but the minute the officiant asks to speak now or forever hold your peace he's springing up from his seat with a hand slightly raised.

No thoughts. Just standing. Body moved on it’s own.

He’d stand frozen until he sees that radiant smile on your face when you make eye contact with him. He watches you lean in and whisper something to your fiancé before rushing towards him and dragging him out the door. So he did understand your plan and he didn’t even have to say a word.

Rafayel

Type: Manipulative ; doesn't have to object

Rafayel would object to your wedding behind close doors. Starts by begging you not to go through with it. Begging turns to telling you why you shouldn’t do it. Reasoning turns to silent ‘acceptance’. He would let you think he doesn’t care anymore. Meanwhile those seeds of doubt in the back of your mind are being nurtured and watered by every sly word that comes out his mouth.

“If you’re fine with settling for him then do you” He said tilting his head with a smile. He’d get you to the point where you start wondering are you trying to convince him or are you just trying to convince yourself? Rafayel was in control the entire time and you’d realize that on the day of your wedding. You’re sitting in your bridal suite alone trying to steel your nerves, but nothing is working. Fuck it you’ll just have to settle and maybe learn to be okay with your arranged husband.

You’d walk down the aisle everyone is suspiciously rigid as they ooouu and aww at you. You’re too busy scanning the crowd at first wondering if Raf crashed to focus on what's ahead of you. Your heart sinking deeper into the pit of your stomach when you don’t spot him. You’d focus back ahead and that’s when you finally spot him.

At the front.

Standing in the grooms spot.

Dressed in a dark navy blue suit.

He’d watch you stumble over yourself hoping no one noticed, but he did. You glance at your parents in the front row as you pass and see your mom with a tight smile followed by your dads curt nod and sweaty brow. “What did you do?” You scream-whisper to Rafayel when you get to the altar. He gives you a boyish grin and caresses the back of your hand with his thumb. “Your fiancé went missing and I happened to be a better prospect” He shrugged

“He just … went missing …?” You narrowed your eyes.

“Yup” He wouldn’t clarify any further. "Alright let's get to the I Do's"

Xavier

Type: Doesn't object ; Sabotages

Xavier is ‘I'll be damned!’ personified. What do you mean you love him, but you’re marrying someone else? Hell no. He’s not okay with this and he lets it be known that he is not okay with this arranged marriage. “There isn’t someone you’d prefer marrying?”

“Of course, but I don’t have a say in it”

“….ok” He’d look like a kicked puppy in front of you, but don’t be fooled this man is moving in the shadows. Everything that can go wrong is going to go wrong on your wedding day. Your fiancé is allergic to raspberries? What a shame every dessert catered has raspberry's in it including the wedding cake. Your wedding shoes? Missing. Venue lights? Somehow not working even though they were just fine yesterday during the wedding rehearsal. So much shit is hitting the fan that your head is spinning.

Watching your fiancé get carted off in an ambulance after he managed to fall down the stairs and break his leg in three places was the last straw. You convinced your parents it’s just not meant to happen. Xavier would call you to ask how the day is going and after you tell him everything he’s suspiciously calm even though you’re distraught. “I have a chest for you to lay on if you need a moment away from the chaos” He offered and you could practically hear the smile in his voice.

You had a feeling he was behind all of this, but you didn’t care.

Sylus

Type: Doesn't object ; makes you do it

Sylus would want you badly and he knows you want him just as much, but you keep telling him you can’t call off the wedding. He’d eventually shrug and nod in acceptance. “Alright I guess this is the part where I disappear from your life” You’d be taken aback by his words, but he stayed true to it.

Two weeks before the wedding …. nothing.

One week before the wedding …. radio silence.

The silence was killing you and unbeknownst to you it was killing Sylus as well, but as you said there's nothing he can do. The day of the wedding while you’re standing hand in hand with your fiancé your skin is buzzing with anxiety. Your heartbeat pounding so loud in your ears you could barely hear the officiant. Your mind drifted to red eyes, white hair and that deep rich laugh. ‘I wish you were Sylus’ you directed your thought at your fiancé who looked bored in this moment. You glanced out to the crowd and latched onto a pair of red eyes staring you down from the back of the room.

Sylus.

He’d watch your eyes go wide when you notice him and tip his chin as if to say ‘Focus sweetie’ You did just that and zoned back in on your fiancé.

“Speak now or forever hold your peace” It was now or never and before you could actually process what you were doing you snatched your hands from his and stepped back. Sylus chuckled at the deafening gasps that filled the room. “I can’t do this” Sylus would perk up watching you dart from the altar heading straight toward him. He’d wrap gentle ribbons of black and red mist around you when you stumble over your long wedding dress trying to get to him as fast possible. He’d meet you halfway with open arms ready to catch you when you jump, wrapping your arms around his neck burying your face in his neck.

“I knew you’d come to your senses Princess” He’d whisper directly in your ear.

“Can we just leave” Your words were muffled since you refused to lift your head from his neck. Sylus chuckled as he swept your legs up with one arm and carried you out of the venue ignoring the chaos following close behind.

Caleb

Type: Doesn't object ; gets rid of him

Caleb would unfortunately try to play it cool. He’d act like everything was fine like he understands that you have no say in it. He’d be so cool he’d be like mint gum with a glass of ice cold water. Unfortunately for him he’s a terrible actor when it comes to you so he’s actually in fact not playing it cool at all.

Not even in the slightest.

Right off the bat you know he is beside himself at the fact that he’s about to lose you to someone you don’t even like. Even though he’s losing his mind he still asks to share meals and see you as much as possible before you officially get married.

Somehow a week before the wedding though you’re having a funeral for your fiancé. Nobody knows what happened to him. He went to work one day and was found unresponsive within a few hours of being there. You question Caleb if he knows anything and he would tell you over and over again. “I was on a routine patrol”

Suspicious.

[bvnnyjo]

warnings: gn!reader, i’m in love with sakusa kiyoomi.

sakusa kiyoomi who searches the crowd for you every game, always hoping that his eyes will meet yours. and they always do. he’s always able to pick you out from the the other hundreds of people there to watch them play.

sakusa kiyoomi who near begs you to just accept his offer of sitting you in one of the front sections. he can get you any ticket you want in any row of any stadium they play in. as much as he loves searching for you, he’d prefer the comfort of knowing exactly where you are from the start.

“are you whining?” you tease, smiling up at your boyfriend, “you sound a lot like atsumu right now.” “don’t compare me to him.” kiyoomi huffs, resting his chin back on your head. “i just think it’d be nice to find you right away. and you’d be able to watch the game better if you were closer.” “i don’t want special treatment just because we’re dating. besides, don’t you think it’s fun to try and find me in the crowd? it isn’t even a little exciting?” “no.” he immediately answers, because it isn’t to him. nothing is exciting until he sees you. the search is just getting in the way of that. “but i suppose if you enjoy sitting in the most random spots around i can’t stop you.” “you’re right.” you nod, triumphant smile on your face. “if roles were reversed you’d understand. watching you scan the faces of strangers hoping to find mine always makes me feel nice. plus, the look when you finally find me gives me butterflies.” “no way i make a face.” kiyoomi shook his head and stared down at you, “do i really?”

sakusa kiyoomi who is pleasantly surprised to see you in one of the front rows of his next game, and later is shown a video of the exact moment he sees you.

he does, in fact, make a face.

[lupismaris]

All of my motivation from yesterday is utterly gone yet I cannot purchase the clothes in my cart next payday until I clear my wardrobe of things do not wear/things that no longer fit and I desperately need new practice gear and jeans that aren't riddled about to split the moment I do a squat. So.

Something's gotta give etc.

[quarterlifekitty]

Reader chooses a solo seat away from the crowd to watch an upcoming erotic 18+ movie, but when she sits down, two big men came in and sat down next to her. One of them told his partner how lucky he was to have sweet thing while watching the movie

Y’know, I’m sure adult theaters still exist somewhere, but they’re not as easy to find as they once were. So it immediately conjures a 70s vibe for me… and hmmmm. How about we throw in one of my favorite tropes. So, I’m gonna just add in a physical descriptor: short hair

It’s not uncommon for people to sit spread out in these joints— everyone is here to jerk off, whether they do it right here in front of the screen or later in the privacy of their own home is just a matter of personal preference. You’re rarely able to sneak your way into the back rows of these things. You dress not to be noticed— loose neutrals. Bootcut jeans a couple sizes too big, a cotton tunic with a chunky knit sweater layered on top for good measure. Unkempt, cropped hair and some men’s sunglasses. In the dim light of the theater, it works a treat.

Or, it usually does.

The man who sits next to you is unapologetic in how he watches you from the corner of his eye. The girl on the screen has her head tossed back and eyes shut as she moans wantonly, back arched and breasts pushed out, but this guy doesn’t seem to really give a damn about the screen. He cups his bulge firmly, and you can almost see the purr vibrate through his chest as he keeps his gaze centered.

You turn to make a hasty retreat, only to be met with another man, gold necklace glinting temptingly across the dark hair spilling from the unbuttoned collar of his shirt. He slips his sunglasses off and folds them onto his collar, using his broad body to block you from fleeing.

Something glitters in his eye, and a sly smile creeps across his face.

“John… looks like there’s a little kitty hiding amongst the wolves.”

You have to bite your lip to keep from yelping as the other man slips a hand under your top from behind, squeezing at the soft curve of your waist. His chuckle is low, guttural.

“Well damn. A soft, sweet little thing under all that after all?”

You try to get up, but the man with the raven hair yanks you back down into his lap as his friend moves in closer.

“Fussy little pussycat, isn’t she? Trying to act like a big dog. Just needs someone to hold her by the scruff and show her what’s good for her.”

A shiver runs through you as the man with the mustache— John— becomes more bold in exploring your body.

“You know me, Nik. I never could resist a stray.”

[vapekingg]

You and Eddie have this running joke.

Or at least it started as a joke.

Once Corroded Coffin started to take off, it was hard to not get jealous. All those pretty girls throwing themselves at him at every show. They'd wait at the merch table or near the back door where the band smokes their cigarettes. Even with you hanging off of his arm, they were relentless.

So Eddie started finding you before they could find him.

You liked being in the crowd during their sets. Some of the guys' girlfriends would sit sidestage, some of them would stay in the green room, but you preferred the energy of the show. Eddie always made sure you were front row, center stage. That way he could always find you.

He made a big deal out of it, too. Pointing you out every night during their last song and handing you a VIP laminate that would get you backstage. To all of these new faces, you were just another face in the crowd. It became a thing amongst their fans. Who would be the lucky girl tonight?

But it was always you.

Because you're his favorite groupie, aren't you?

That's what Corroded Coffin's security team started calling you. Jokingly, of course. But it's carried over.

"You know why you're my favorite fucking groupie?" Eddie hisses close to your face.

You can't respond. He knows you can't respond. If it weren't for both of his hands wrapped around your throat, then because he's got your legs folded up against your chest with your ankles next to his ears. Eddie's thrusts are relentless, his cock punching into your guts with brutality, and you can't make a fucking sound.

"Because you can fucking take it," he continues, punctuating the last two words with particularly rough assaults.

Your face is getting warm from the blood pooling in your head. Your brain is pounding in your temples with each stroke of his thick cock against your slick inner walls. You need to scream, but the wail trapped in your lungs sits right below Eddie's fists at the base of your throat.

"Oh, you have something to say? Didn't lose your voice screaming my name all night?" His voice is beginning to sound far off beneath the sound of your own heart thumping in your ears. "Fuck, you feel good. Squeezing my cock, baby. Don't worry, I'm gonna let you sing."

Your throat is released and Eddie's fingers slide beneath your head, weaving into your hair. A rush of air enters your lungs, and then you hear your own foul sounds.

The sound of begging, of pleading, of crying for him to never stop, to give you more.

"Please, Eddie. Please, harder, harder, harder!" Are the only words you can remember.

And you expect Eddie to mock you. He usually does, and it's usually the final nail in your coffin. What you don't expect is the tightening of his ringed fingers against your roots. He holds your head in place and spits on your face, silencing you for only a moment.

"You know this is when you're the prettiest?" Eddie says between gritted teeth.

With the blood flowing back to your brain, you begin to hear everything again. His little grunts and moans hidden by heavy breathing, the slapping of his sweat slick skin against yours, the creaking of his tour bus bunk bed. It all comes together like some sort of symphony of filth.

"When you're all fucked out. Makeup fucked, sweaty, my spit dripping down your face. You'll be even prettier with my cum leaking out of this pussy."

Your back arches into him at the mention of Eddie filling you up. He doesn't do it often. You're careful most of the time. But on special occasions... the risk is worth it.

Eddie laughs at your response, his cock pumping into your cunt faster.

"That what you want? Me to fill you up?" He asks mockingly.

That knot in your abdomen begins to tighten. Eddie's hips rut against your sensitive clit, stroking it in time with each thrust.

"Then everyone will know you're my favorite groupie, huh?"

Eddie's hips hit your core, his cock buried to the hilt, and he grinds his waist against your clit. Stars dot your vision. Every atom in your body shivers on the edge of oblivion.

"Won't they?"

[ozzgin]

Streamer reader that has a PO box and as a stream one day, opened a box to find toys lol no one will admit which one of them sent it

Shark daddy is rich enough to buy a full box of toys tho 👀... just saying

-🐶

I already have a post where I talk about adult toys from your monster followers in general, so I thought this time I'd focus on the Big 5 and what they'd get you in particular. content: gender neutral reader, NSFW!!

Regardless of his choices, LizardKing5 always goes one size too big. He knows it won't fit, he knows you'll struggle. He loves it. He'll sit before the screen and probably jerk off to the image of you trying and failing, only making it to the tip before giving up, embarrassed and flushed. He lives to tease you.

SharkMan does have the money for any luxury, though he finds the idea of buying you adult toys somewhat tasteless. He'll gift you other things, like expensive lingerie, or self-care appointments. Unless you ask for something yourself, he'll stay away from it. He prefers to wait until special events, like the follower milestone, to provide you with firsthand experience instead.

HornyMantis is the real trouble. Not only does he flood you with packages, but he somehow manages to find the strangest, most particular items. Half the time you'll open the box and find yourself staring at the perverted tools, asking yourself: it's a thing? Additionally, he's big on cosplay, especially cow-themed costumes. Doesn't matter if you're a guy or a gal, you'll find it either way - the slutty lingerie with a handwritten note, Take care of those milkers.

DefNotAStalker is not much of a giver. After all, he already has front row seats to all your intimate performances. He likes to show his appreciation through small, loving gestures instead; changing the batteries, switching to your favorite settings, putting the stuff away before guests arrive. Probably touches himself to the freshly used toys, or from a safe distance while you're actively using them.

Y/NSimp, unsurprisingly, is extremely vanilla. He'll gift you a basic vibrator and giggle to himself the entirety of the stream, thinking he'll make you blush and shock all other monsters with his cheeky act. Then he'll stare in horror at all the other shameless toys you're unwrapping. He didn't even know some of these things exist.

[Monster Streaming] | [All Monster Series]

[alchemistc]

Based on my own post from earlier this evening because I can't stop thinking about it.

vanilla

He doesn't mean to see it. He swears. It's just - Tommy's laptop is right there and Buck's is all the way in the office and if he doesn't look up the lifespan of a Cecropia moth right now he's going to forget about it for a month only to remember in the middle of something vitally more important than watching Planet Earth reruns.

So he twists the thing around from its spot on the side table, boots it back up, types in Tommy's password (pA$$word3, because no one would ever guess that he'd be both so lazy and so creative in his laziness), and watches Firefox boot itself up. It's an older laptop, and Tommy doesn't take great care of it - case and point, he didn't even close out of his tabs, they're all still there, and - well. Shit.

That's the most ridiculous dildo he's ever seen.

Biggest, too.

Jesus.

Buck immediately forgets 100% of what he was doing.

And - and looking up Tommy's history is absolutely a line crossed - there's no reason for him to fucking spiral just because there's a bright purple dragon something on the screen with a base as wide as Buck's thigh. There's no reason why he should -

He clicks the search history and regrets it pretty immediately.

That kills two hours.

He has three more until Tommy's off shift, and now everything is worse. Because.

Okay so.

Like.

They have a pretty healthy sex life, Buck thinks. A year into Tommy and Buck Part Two and they still can't keep their hands off each other. And - so, like, sue him for preferring all the boring stuff he never really got to enjoy long term - the way he knows Tommy goes a little crazy when they're lying on their sides and Buck can just slip right in and press his lips to Tommy's shoulder, tuck his hand under Tommy's where he's got it on his chest, curl their fingers together and just breath into each thrust. Sue him for liking it when they're face to face and Tommy's looking up at him with the pads of his fingers tracing the shell of Buck's ear and he can see the love love love in his eyes, see the way his tongue curls out Buck's name like a prayer. Sue him for his fantasies always drifting to that sunny afternoon in their bed, Buck on his belly and Tommy everywhere around him, over him, inside of him, humming useless nothings into Buck's ear while the sweat from their skin eased the chafe of being pressed together from pelvis to collarbone.

Buck picks up his phone. Watches the familiar name ring out one, two, three - answered on the fourth ring.

"Am I not kinky enough, do you think?" Buck asks, and gets a drawn out moment of silence.

"Nope," Ravi says, and the call drops.

And who else is he gonna call, really? Hen and Chim? (Hard no, they nipped that in the bud back when Buck and Tommy were still in Part One) Maddie? Another line too far, but this one he doesn't feel like crossing today. Eddie? If he'd even pick up?

Buck dials out again.

Ravi picks up on the second ring. "Buck, I love you man, but I get a front row seat to your little love fest at least once a week, four hours a night. I am not equipped or willing to help you with your sex life."

Fair. That's fair. Boundaries are important. Ravi does an excellent job of setting his up and announcing where they are.

"It's just I found something in Tommy's browser that -."

"Absolutely not. I'll block your number for twenty-four hours."

"Right. Cool. Sure thing." Buck breathes.

"Talk to Tommy, if you're freaking out about it." Ravi caves, just a bit. "Every time. I say this every time, and it always works, doesn't it?"

True. On both accounts. When did Ravi become his go to guy?

(When he started picking up the phone whenever Buck called. When he came to Buck with his own shit and didn't apologize for it.)

"Yeah. You're right. I'm gonna talk to him."

"We're still on for Friday, right?"

Buck has to search his memory to figure out what he's referencing. Tommy's taking Ravi to the farmers market over in Venice Beach that Buck refuses to go to on principle because Sherri's Treats aren't even homemade. She gets the baked goods from Costco and decorates them with store brand icing.

"Talk to Tommy," Buck throws back, just to be a brat, and Ravi sighs.

"Touche."

He's still freaking out when the call ends three minutes later, and he doesn't want to have to pull this trigger.

Except. Like. It's still there. Right on Tommy's screen. Watching him.

The phone rings six times.

He's contemplating how ridiculous it is to leave a voicemail when Lucy answers with a groggy "'lo?"

"Am I not kinky enough?" Buck asks, and gets the start of a cackle and then a long, slow pause.

She's gonna hang up on him. She's absolutely going to -

"It's ten-thirty in the morning on a Wednesday, Buckley."

And it sure is.

God, this would never have happened if he hadn't started an update on his phone mid-episode.

"Walk me through it," she continues, all business, all of a sudden, and so Buck tells her, grateful for her hums and uhuh's as she starts her day. Buck talks over the sound of her brushing her teeth, and pouring her coffee, and absolutely doesn't mention that he thinks she should probably have better sleeping patterns while he spirals about Tommy being unsatisfied with the sex they have.

"Gonna break bro code here a little to tell you you have literally nothing to worry about there. Seriously. You're getting gold stars every night, I promise you."

"He's been looking up gimp suits and gags, Lucy!"

She's quiet on the other end, for a moment.

Then she starts laughing.

Again.

Which is a great feeling for Buck. He loves it when Lucy laughs at him.

"Oh, Jesus, I'm sorry. Honey those aren't for you."

Well, now he's kinda mad at the implication that Tommy would -

"Not for Tommy, either," she interrupts, like she knows where that spiral leads. "I forgot what time of year it was. This is new for you."

"What's new for me?"

He can picture the sly grin on her face as she pours something into a bowl - milk maybe. Then cereal.

God, what a psycho.

"Tommy and an army buddy of his have had this escalating prank war going on for like...seven, eight years? I don't know, I wasn't here at the start of it, but I guess it started as the most heterosexual man you've ever met trying to be a good ally to his newly out buddy and sending a set of butt plugs to the only address of Tommy's he had available."

Weird. But not the weirdest thing he's ever heard. "Which was?"

"Oh, Harbor. Yeah. Got it his first week there. So now every year on the anniversary they try to send each other shit at work that should technically be grounds for a sexual harassment claim from their coworkers. Last year Tommy got a fully custom furry suit. Dude probably dropped thirty grand on that thing."

He shouldn't ask. He definitely shouldn't -

"It was a horse. Because of his big fat -."

"I get the picture, thanks."

"So yeah. It's coming up on time for them to push a boundary a little too far and actually have someone complain about it, this time. They won't stop until one of them gets a write up."

It's kinda funny. Kinda sweet, too, in that really weird way military men are with each other. Irrationally, Buck kinda wants to slew foot the guy for being an unintentionally massive flirt.

Straight dudes are the literal worst at allyship, in the weirdest ways possible.

"He's out of state, so don't go getting territorial, Buckley."

Never gonna live that down.

"But seriously though? Back to the original point. Which is you freaking out that Tommy is unsatisfied in your sex life. Number one: talk to him. You guys are the actual worst. Always gotta have a second opinion before you bite the bullet and do the normal thing. Number two: I know too much. And I know you have nothing to worry about. Number three: when he gets home I want you to record his reaction when you turn the laptop screen on him like a spurned wife and send it to me. I'm having a bad day. I could use the entertainment."

"You just woke up."

"And had to talk an old coworker down from a ledge about how satisfying his sex life is with a current coworker. Bareback, no lube, just wake up and go."

"I think this also counts as sexual harassment."

"You started this conversation with 'am I kinky enough' so I'm not super concerned."

By the time he gets off the phone with Lucy he's very firmly on solid ground. And also wondering exactly how much Tommy actually talks about their sex life when he's not around. Tommy keeps things pretty close to the vest. He can't imagine he's going around bragging about that time he started crying when Buck hit his prostate right as he licked into his mouth and slid a hand up his arm to link their fingers together.

Maybe in less detail.

Something about seeing God, maybe. That seems more like his style.

---

Tommy has a routine, when he gets home from work. Keys hung up, jacket on the coat rack, duffle tucked into one of the cubbies of his makeshift mud room. Shoes under the bench, two minutes of head scritches for Goose as she meows her way down the hall to greet the only man she'll ever love.

(Buck's super cool about the fact that Tommy's breakup cat hates him. Totally chill.)

When Goose has had her fill and darted off to go bounce off the walls of the office, Tommy likes to amble in to whatever room Buck is in and drape himself across Buck's back for a moment, mouth pressed to the knob of Buck's spine, hands roaming for a moment before he manages a greeting.

He's making risotto for dinner when he hears the lock click in the front door.

He's ignoring Lucy's text reminding him to get a reaction shot.

He listens to Tommy talk back to Goose like he understands every "mrow" listens for the shuffle of socked feet down the hall, listens to him pad across the kitchen tiles, braces himself for the dead weight of Tommy against his back.

Tommy's got a hand halfway up his shirt when he mumbles into Buck's ear. "So I hear we have something to talk about."

"Ravi snitched."

"Ravi still thinks I'm the sensible one, of the two of us."

Buck snorts. Tips his head back against Tommy's shoulder and basks in the moment while Tommy buries his nose behind Buck's ear.

"Before I say anything else, I know you said I can use your laptop whenever I want but you should know I definitely snooped where I shouldn't and jumped to some wild conclusions. Which Lucy has already cleared up on your behalf, because apparently we're both too chicken shit to have a conversation without using a lifeline."

Tommy stills. "I didn't close out my browser session last time, did I?"

"You did not."

"And Lucy told you about the horse costume Dom sent me last year."

"She sure did. She very specifically called it a furry suit, though."

Tommy blows out an exasperated breath against his neck. "And you were freaking out because...?"

"I thought maybe you were bored with the sex we have."

That gets Tommy going. He pulls free just to get enough leverage to spin Buck to face him, hands on his hips and eyes catching Buck's like if he doesn't see Buck's eyes in the next five seconds he'll do something crazy, and Buck doesn't really know how he got so lucky but he's not gonna look a gift horse in the mouth. Even if it's a furry.

"Evan. Please understand when I say this I'm not exaggerating. Our sex is life altering. I want to have slow, quiet, vanilla sex with you until the day I die."

"Which won't be for like another fifty years."

Tommy hums. "I'm gonna be popping Blue Chew when I'm ninety-five and have two bum hips."

"Oh, so I have to do all the work?"

"Why do you think I dated younger?"

Buck has to kiss him about it. And then he has to pull back and duck his head to remind Tommy of the part he blazed right past. "Full disclosure, when I said I snooped I meant I went into your search history."

Tommy's chuckle shakes them both. "I figured. You go back far enough to find the single porn link in amidst all the shitty plastic used actuators for sale on eBay?"

"I'm not a masochist, Tommy." Figures he'd get so frustrated looking for a part to fix the rattling in the Jeeps dash he'd want to rub one out. Usually takes him more than a single video, though. Probably he'd decided he'd feel too guilty to actually get off until he had the part ordered.

Tommy shifts his weight a bit. Wedges a knee in between Buck's legs. His eyes get that sparkle to them that means he finds Buck to be an adorable menace. "How married to the risotto are you?" he asks, hands shifting from Buck's hips to behind his thighs.

"Not - not terribly." It had been a distraction from thinking about Tommy's army buddy, mostly. The recipe still isn't perfected and even though Tommy's complimented it every time, Buck can tell it's missing something and Tommy is just letting him figure it out on his own.

"Maybe we could order in and I can show you how satisfied I am with your service."

"We - that's definitely an option. On the table."

"How about this very sturdy counter, instead?"

They haven't done it somewhere not-the-bed in months.

Their knees aren't gonna thank them for it.

Buck has to attempt to ignore Tommy mouthing at his neck to remember if there are enough ice packs in the freezer for the both of them, right now.

"Yeah - yep, let's do that instead."

Tommy gets both hands under his ass and lifts.

He doesn't quite swoon over the move, anymore, but it still makes him more than a little giddy.

"Wait, did you decide on the dildo over the gimp suit, because if you're escalating at the same rate as your friend I think -."

"Can we talk about Dom after I get my satisfaction scores in, please?"

"Shutting up now."

"I don't believe that for a second," Tommy says, and then shuts him up with his mouth anyway, just for good measure.

[shypotatoes013-blog]

Can we fucking talk about this?

I may sound really bad when I say this but it pisses me off to no end that we can’t have this game without men crying for a male mc option or trying to erase the MC. Like no??? This game isn’t for you. The creators made it FOR AFAB PEOPLE specifically. We don’t have shit like that.

It’s always inclusivity this, inclusivity that.

There is PLENTY of BL and other games dedicated to people who enjoy that type of content. Go play it, go read it.

I used to like yaoi. I preferred it over hetero at one point but like there’s liking and then there is projecting in places and insisting everyone else get behind it. You just don’t fucking do that??

Is it really SO BAD that AFAB have something for themselves? Do you have to belittle us and erase us so badly that we just have no spaces for ourselves?

And then saying they’d have better chemistry with another man. 😭 Have you heard the secret times? Have you read the stories or the cards? They are absolutely infatuated with the female body (and I know I used female here I’m sorry but that’s what mc is portrayed as in game.)

It’s not a contest. You can like them, headcanon them with another man. You can do whatever because they’re fictional just STOP ERASING WOMEN. We are allowed to exist in media.

I’m sorry for anyone reading this. I can’t articulate this the way I want to. It just makes me so mad that we deal with so much misogynistic bullshit and can’t have anything. I don’t go around trying to assert myself in spaces that weren’t made for me and I can’t understand why this isn’t an understood concept.

Edit: Also in reblogs

I've already expressed that I did not know how to articulate at the time either and my intention is not to make enemies of anyone. I admit that I could have waited to word that better, thanks for the input. It wasn't well received by my very trans friend either, but she has corrected me on the usage of the term AFAB, amongst other things.

However, I do not care that they want or wish for representation. It's the aggressiveness that some of them exude that is off putting. It's not fair I used general and pointed language and I'll take full accountability.

The erasure is completely removing the MC from the equation when she is the central point of the game. It literally revolves around her. And it was said that she lacks chemistry and that the men would have more chemistry with another man.

Opinions are fine, but when you're deadass serious just because you can't stand to see a female with the LI, that's different and THATS what I'm talking about.

I expressed that it's fine in headcanon and fanfiction because it is fiction. I don't have an issue with that, if you'd read that instead of jumping to that conclusion. I don't give a shit that people ship them together or with other men.

I don't care that they even ship themselves, but the actual hate, and in all seriousness, in lads fandom is an actual thing. It is the lack of acknowledgment that they're (the shitheads) still coming into the fandom and demanding a front row seat because it's "not fair!"

The screens I provided aren't mine. It was sent from a friend, but this is not the first instance I have seen of this and regardless of if it was a joke, it sometimes doesn't feel that way. I could have tempered myself, but I am also tired of tempering my rage.

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

ROUTE 666

Elias ‘Stack’ Moore x Black!OC

Summary: it’s the year 1984 and Star goes to a roadside bar off of Devil’s Highway that a friend of hers invited her to. What Star doesn’t know is that someone is waiting for her beyond the velvet drapes.

Warnings: SMUT. Lots of pussy licking. 18+ CONTENT. Mentions of blood, Violence.

Part Three

Elias ‘Stack’ Moore entered Vaisseau just before the sun could peek over the horizon. The windows were already covered with thick, blacked–out curtains. At the bar stood a woman named Ivory. She’s a human, Onyx’s personal blood bank and pussy. Once a small town girl living in a lonely world, she was taken in by a vampire biker gang and passed around for feast and sex.

Ivory was busy shining glasses with a cloth. Her chocolate–brown eyes fell upon Elias as he made his was towards the bar. Ivory placed the glass amongst a row of others she dried off. The faint sound of ‘I Love Rock N Roll’ could be heard from a jukebox. Stack took a seat and tapped the bar for Ivory to attend to him.

“Grab me some O negative out of the fridge, baby.”

“No problem.”

Ivory swept her eyes over Stack before walking away to retrieve a blood bag for him. Stack followed the purposeful sway of her ass in a pair of daisy dukes. She styled the denim cut–offs with sheer black stockings that shimmered and a very cropped T-shirt.

Ivory opened a fridge, chilling smoke wafting her face. She thumbed through the many blood bags and came across what Stack needed. Grabbing it, she went to pour it into a glass tumbler. Ivory made her way back over to Stack, sitting the cup on a folded, black napkin in front of him.

“Drink straw?” Ivory offered with a hospitable smile.

“Nah, no need, darling. Onyx sleeping?”

“Not yet. He’s in the back,” Ivory motioned with her finger painted a vibrant red, “You can go on back there.”

Stack gulped down the O negative blood. He licked the rim and glided his blood–covered tongue over his teeth. It tasted decent, Stack preferring bag blood chilled. He stood up, sucking on his lips to clear the rest of the crimson delight away before disappearing behind a black drapery.

Stack made a left, then a right, until he was standing within the doorway of Onyx’s office. It wasn’t the most decorative, but it was useful to handle the business side of things at the bar. Onyx glanced up at Stack and nodded his head in greeting.

“Alright there, brother?”

“Pretty damn good.”

Stack propped his shoulder against the doorway and lit a blunt with a match.

“How was your porn star pussy?”

“Delicious…and no I don’t plan to share.”

Onyx released a deep laugh.

“You’ve had Ivory.” Onyx countered.

“Did. And that still won’t change my mind.” Stack quipped.

“The way she was eyeing me like she wanted this fat cock…I know a hopper when I see one. And she is a hopper…”

Stack pushed himself up and approached Onyx’s desk. He leaned forward against it, propping himself up on his knuckles. Stack’s eyes glowed menacingly. Onyx simply smirked.

“Don’t. Talk. About her. Like that. Onyx. Or I’ll kill ya’.”

“I’m only fuckin’ with you, Stack. What you want anyway?” Onyx brushed off Stack’s threat, continuing with counting his cash.

“Came to sleep. Can’t afford to burn in a bed when that sun come up. Better safe than sorry.”

“Since when do you sleep in a casket?” Onyx joked.

“Since now, nigga. Star still at the motel.”

A sinister smile crept over Onyx’s lips.

“You ain’t turn her like you said you would?”

Stack flicked his gaze away, taking a hit of his blunt.

“Not yet. Soon.”

“You could just keep her around like I do Ivory.” Onyx suggested, placing a stack of Benjamin’s away in a safe deposit box.

“And watch her age? I want another eternal partner, Onyx. You know how long I’ve been searching since me and Mary split?”

“I know, Stack. Just…tread lightly with it, aight? I got lucky with Ivory. From what Cora says, she’s perfect.”

“Ivory ain’t got shit to lose. Star different.”

Onyx dropped his head with frustration, “Which is why I said be careful. Remember…we didn’t have a choice.”

The glow from Stack’s eyes dimmed to brown. Onyx was right. Once again, he was given that painful reminder. Despite being surrounded by so many others like him, lurking in the shadows, there was still loneliness. Stack walked this immortal life with Mary in the midst because she was the last connection he could hold onto that understood.

His cousin, Sammie Moore, went on to have a successful career as a big, bad, Blues man. Stack was proud of him. Mary fought fang and coffin nail to keep Stack for herself, but he’d had enough. Enough of her possessiveness. Enough of her jealousy. Enough of her lack of remorse whenever Stack would reflect on his twin, Elijah ‘Smoke’ Moore.

They got us in museums, Smoke. Mobster Museum…Black History Museum…we icons. Just like I knew we’d be…wish ya’ was here to see it all…

But his mortal life was snatched from beneath his feet.

So to snatch Star’s would be just as wrong.

He would need her consent.

“I’m a head down to the basement…”

Stack left and slow strolled down the hall until he found his way at the top of stairs. He was about to descend into a sleeping quarter with coffins until a familiar, condescending, backwoods country accent caught his ears.

“The fuck you doin’ here?!”

Stack’s fangs popped out violently and he turned carefully with a steady gaze on a woman he hoped he didn’t have to run into.

“Raven.”

“Surprised to see you walking around here freely after the shit you pulled last time.”

Stack released a frustrated sigh, “What? Because I killed a Choctaw?”

“You spilled blood on this end of Route 666 and with that comes trouble. Trouble we ain’t had in a long time until you showed up, nigga.”

Raven’s cynical nature irritated Stack to no end. Always confrontational whenever he touched down in Arizona. Things weren’t always bad between them, hell, things were good as far as he knew. As long as his dick was in her wet pussy she didn’t care. But because he forced his fist through the chest cavity of a Choctaw he’s the bad guy?

“Why you really mad, Raven? Tell me that.” Stack argued.

Raven’s left eye flinched with rage.

“You ain’t shit, Elias. First you let Mary come between us. Then you jeopardize everything because you can’t just swallow your pride. They’ve been watching us because of you, nigga!”

“They been watching us since I turned vampire back in 1932, Raven! Don’t make no difference!” Stack shouted.

Onyx appeared from his office. His eyes fell on Raven and his shoulders slouched.

“Raven, I told you Stack was coming here. He’s one of ours. Been one of ours. Blood Riders united,” Onyx folded his arms across his sculpted chest.

“I’m going to sleep,” Stack adjusted his leather moto vest, “Ain’t got time for this shit, Raven. It’s either you miss me or you don’t. Point FUCKING blank.”

“I got somebody! I’m over you!”

“Don’t look like it,” Onyx chimed in.

Raven’s hissed with her fangs poking out to threaten.

“Fuck you, Onyx! Who side you on anyway?!”

“The side where I can have some peace counting this money.”

Raven sneered before storming off. As she breezed past the black drapes, she caught Ivory looking at her and that’s when her icy core melted to that of flirtatious heat. She winked at Ivory and blew her a kiss.

Stack descended the stairs with inhuman speed.

Clearly, she wasn’t over him. And clearly being with someone else didn’t stop her from flirting with Ivory.

He found a spare coffin open and took off his vest, placing it on a hook. A coffin across from him, a brown one with a carved, ornate style popped opened, revealing golden silk. Inside, tangled within each other’s embrace, fully naked, was Legend and Cora.

Cora sat up first, stretching her arms. She locked eyes with Stack before he settled into his coffin.

“Enjoy my friend, Stack?” Cora questioned with a sultry voice.

“I have you to thank for that. Just like a Collector should. ‘Ppreciate ya’, baby.” Stack winked at Cora.

“Anytime,” Cora exhaled, “I’m hungry. Can’t sleep.”

“Got enough blood left upstairs. Better get it before it ain’t no more good.” Stack revealed.

Cora stepped out of the coffin gracefully. She sauntered over to a chair and grabbed a long, billowing, ivory robe with feathered details.

“You get a chance to fuck her? Or did you put her in a coma with your tongue?”

Stack relaxed back against the inside of the coffin, his head cushioned by the pillow. He stared up at the ceiling of the unfinished basement, spiderwebs and other creepy crawlers showing themselves. A faint smile tickled his full lips.

“Number two.” Stack replied smugly.

“Told ya’ she tastes like heaven on earth.”

“Don’t go makin’ me jealous now, Cora.” Stack replied playfully.

Cora made her way towards the stairs. Legend stirred awake, siting up in search of Cora. His monstrous dick sat up high and imposingly girthy. Enough to split you open. But Cora was a vampire so she could handle it any way she liked.

“Cora?” Legend called out.

“I’ll be back. I’m hungry. Unless you wanna go feed elsewhere? You know the strip is still lively.”

“Nah, it’ll be daytime soon.”

“Suit yourself,” Cora climbed up until she was gone.

Stack shut his casket, happy that it was a soundproof one.

He didn’t need to hear Legend and Cora fucking from dusk till dawn.

Only thoughts of Star and her captivating brown eyes, beautiful smile, sweet moans, and how he felt lost until he met her.

Red, sheer curtains billow beyond open windows on both sides of the hall. Moonlight bathed her path as she walked slowly, wearing nothing but the scent of Hypnotic Poison.

Come to me…

Star, caught up in a dream, followed the sound of that voice until she was face to face with her lover. Naked just like her. fog helped to establish the mood and atmosphere, giving off a dark, dramatic, sensual and even slightly mysterious aura.

Stack…

He picked Star up, pulling her in for a kiss as he guided her to the bed. A bed draped in black silk with an upholstered leather headboard. Stack sat down with Star in his lap. Heads swiveling, tongues delving deep, Star moved a hand to Stack’s dick from behind, more than ready to feel him inside her. Stack licked and sucked on her nipples while she stroked him.

He moaned and groaned.

Star…

She guided him to her sweet center, and Stack inched his way inside with both hands on her ass cheeks to keep her positioned. Deep in her juicy walls he thrusted.

Star gasped.

Juices trickled between her legs. Stack kept a steady pace. He watched her. Never took his eyes off of her. Star threw her head back, moaning with his moans.

“Uhnnn…” Star moans.

“Mmmhhhhh…” Stack moans.

He picked up speed, powerful and intense with each pounding stroke, rhythm far from timid. He knew exactly how to please her, he had no problem handling Star. He lifted Star up and down on his dick.

Deeper…Deeper…

His brown eyes unexpectedly changed from that smooth cognac brown to a blazing rouge. Star locked eyes with him, mesmerized by the fire in them. Suddenly, her body stiffened completely and her arms dropped limply to her sides.

Her heart raced…she couldn’t move. She was putty in his hands as he drilled from underneath. Thick fingers reached up to caress the side of her face with his fingertips, turning her head slightly to the right and placing his lips on her neck.

The blood pumped through her veins against his full lips.

What was supposed to be a sensual nibble evolved into something else…something sinister as he pierced her skin—

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

Star stirred awake in the bed Stack left her in. The thin, stark white sheets were tangled around her body as she rolled over to silence the alarm clock on an end table. She felt hot all over and her pulse quickened.

Not just the pulse against the right side of her neck, but the pulse between her legs.

She had to catch her breath. Sweaty and sore, Star couldn’t begin to understand why that dream felt so real.

Chocolate is…S.CRUNCH.OUS!

Star jumped, blinked her eyes, wiping them to focus. She squinted at the TV, a Nestle Crunch commercial on. It was so loud she had to scramble out of bed to search for the remote.

The arm chair.

Star froze.

“Stack?” She called out.

Silence echoed back at her. Star unwrapped herself, revealing curves and soft brown skin. Her hair was all over her head and the aftershock of a repeated orgasm left her muscles aching. She found the remote, snatching it before aiming it at the TV. She muted it with a hard press of a button before getting rid of the remote.

Her eyes fell upon the alarm clock.

1:32 pm

“Shit–”

Star rushed, pacing back and forth as she got dressed. She went without her stockings, ripped to shreds because of Stack.

Knock knock knock

Star froze.

“Is Star in there?”

Star tip toes to the door. She peered through the peep hole, staring at a beautiful woman that looked like she could be featured in play magazine. Petite, Jerry curl, hot shorts on.

“Who are you?” Star asked.

“I’m Ivory. I work at Vaisseau…came over to see if you were hungry. Stack’s busy handling things at the bar and he won’t be back til’ sun down.” 

Cora.

“Would you happen to know where my friend, Cora is?”

Ivory went quiet for a few seconds.

“Cora is with Legend. Saw them leave last night in his truck.”

Star rolled her eyes.

“Well,” Star threw her hands up, “I guess I’ll grab a bite. Seeing as I can’t leave without my friend.”

“Of course! There’s a diner next door. Food is real tasty! Don’t worry about the bill, Stack’s got it covered.”

“I could use a change of clothes and something to freshen up with while you’re at it,” Star examined her maroon–painted nails, “Please and thank you.” She added for good measure.

“Of course! I’ll have that for you in your room. House keeping will clean up while you’re out.”

Star raised a curious brow.

So, did they also own the motel?

“Great…”

Ivory gave an awkward nod at the door before turning to leave, swaying her hips with each step, perky booty cheeks peeking out from beneath her daisy dukes.

“Fucking, Cora,” Star fussed, “Bitch didn’t even have the decency to let me know.”

Cora eyed the cord phone in the room. She walked over to it, picking it up before slipping a slender finger into the ring of the dial, spinning it to contact the front desk.

It rang three times before it picked up.

“Front desk,” A jaded male voice spoke.

“Hi…was wondering if you knew a Cora Livingston? She’s staying here. Not sure which room…”

“Hold on a sec…”

Star tapped her foot impatiently. Her stomach rumbled.

“Ah! Miss Livingston. She’s staying in 210 but—”

“Thank you!”

Star slammed the phone down on the receiver before zipping up her sexy red boots and grabbing her cheetah printed hand bag. Before she left, she spotted the keys on the table where Stack had left it. Star retrieved them and left the room.

The Arizona heat slapped her in the face the minute she stepped foot outside. Star began walking towards a flight of stairs leading up to the second level. She scanned the parking lot, not recognizing Cora’s black corvette amongst the other vehicles. The corners of her face frowned, Star opened her hand bag to grab a pair of cat eye sunglasses in all black with a rhinestone trim. Grabbing onto the iron railing, Star climbed with a click–clack of her boots.

Room 210 was right before her eyes.

Star walked with a determined strut towards the door, hips switching and ass bouncing beneath her mini, halter dress.

Star raised a fist.

Knock knock knock

No response.

Star raised two fists.

Knock knock knock

“The fuck?”

She bent over to try and peek into the room. She couldn’t see much of anything.

Groaning, Star made her way back to the stairs. As she climbed down, she began to worry about Cora. Sure, she can take care of herself, but Star knows first hand what it’s like to lose friends in a horrific way.

Kidnapping.

Murder.

One of the reasons she left Vegas is because of a serial killer preying on young women, especially street walkers, exotic dancers, and porn stars. They still hadn’t caught the guy.

Star wrung her hands, glancing left and right along Devil’s Highway.

The diner with its welcoming high rise sign and fifty’s retro design was a beacon for her. Star traveled across the parking lot and pushed her way through the revolving doors.

“Hi! Welcome to Suga’s! Just you, honey?”

A black woman a little over sixty years old with short salt and pepper hair greeted her. She held a stack of menus against her thick hip. A pastel pink work dress with buttons in the front hugged her motherly curves and a half apron stretched across her waist, stained with food and condiments.

The diner wasn’t packed, a few patrons here and there. It did smell savory from the grill and sugary from the malt shakes being blended. Star gave the woman—from what it looked like on her name badge goes by Doris—a sweet smile. She took off her sunglasses, the corners of her eyes crinkled from smiling.

“Just me. May I have a booth seat?”

“Absolutely! Follow me.”

Star walked behind Doris to a booth window seat. Star scooted in, accepting her menu with a soft ‘thank you’.

“What would you like to drink?”

“I’ll have a water with lemon…and…fuck it, a chocolate malt with whipped cream and a cherry on top.”

“I’ll put that in for you.”

Doris walked away humming Cheryl Lynn Encore.

Star tapped her almond–shaped nails against the laminated menu.

A western omelette with home fries and bacon sounded delicious.

After five minutes, Doris returned with her drinks. Star placed her order, and after Doris scribbled everything down on a notepad, Star reached out to stop her with a gentle hand.

“Um, the tab is covered, right? I was told by a woman named Ivory that I didn’t have to worry about paying? I got cash if it’s a problem.”

Doris pondered for about three seconds before recognition dawned her eyes.

“Yes! Oh, yes. Ivory mentioned something like that to the boss. No worries, honey.”

“Thank you.”

Star drank her water down quickly before sampling her shake.

It was delicious.

She twirled her straw around, wondering what type of connections a roadside bar would have with a motel and a diner?

Maybe they run an illegal drug trade?

No other explanation. Hard to believe a bunch of black folk can own anything without it being a fight. That’s when Star’s mind finally drifted to Stack.

Her one night stand.

He’s a good friend and partner. When he likes you, he tends to throw money at you. Flashy brother. Slick talk. But he mean business…

Is Stack the brains of the operation? He rides a motorcycle, and Star caught a glimpse of other motorcycles parked along the side of Vaeisseau.

Outlaw motorcycle gangs (OMGs) are considered dangerous due to their involvement in various criminal activities and violent behavior. And a lot of those gangs frequent the Arizona desert. Route 666 in general. Star didn’t want to get mixed up with a criminal. She came to Arizona to make money off of good pussy, big tits, and an ass that can swallow a g-string.

But…that long thick tongue…

The way that dick fit in her mouth…

Star squirmed in her seat at the booth, the flashbacks causing her to blush into her hand.

“Here’s your meal, honey.”

The steam of freshly cooked food warmed Star’s cheeks. Full portions and all of it looked good.

“Thank you, Miss Doris.”

Star picked up her fork to sample some home fries.

Miss Doris lingered with a hesitant gaze. Star looked up at her, both brows raised and disappearing beyond her Farrah Fawcett bangs.

“Everything okay?” Star asked.

“Just–just wanted to mention,” Miss Doris placed a gentle hand against Star’s, “Be careful around here at night, honey. Too much bad stuff goes on. That bar…ain’t no place for you to be,” Miss Doris whispered that last part.

Star’s stomach dropped.

“Thanks for the advice, Miss Doris…”

Miss Doris nodded her head with a wary expression. She finally left Star alone to her thoughts again.

Stack doesn’t owe her any explanation. She probably will never see him again. He did leave her alone in his Motel room.

But Ivory said he’d be back.

No. Cora was going to drive her back into the city when she gets back. Nice knowing you, Stack.

Cora ate her meal, cleaning her plate completely. She excused herself to the restroom before returning to the motel room. Afterwards she left a tip on the table for Miss Doris, a fifty dollar bill. Star put her sunglasses back on and walked out.

She showed up to the motel and rummaged through her hand bag for the keys. Once back inside, Star noticed straight away that the room had been tidied up and on the bed rested a sexy little number with thigh high boots to match.

And was that…

Star walked over to the left side of the bed where she was sleeping and picked up a quad of cash held together by a ruby and diamond bracelet with a tiny ‘S’. She picked it up with alarming eyes.

All one hundred dollar bills.

Star situated herself in front of the dress.

She picked it up before placing herself in front of the mirror. Star pressed the dress against her torso, spreading it out to fit her curves. It was gorgeous.

A sexy halter mini dress with ruched detailing and backless in a foil gold color. The studded thigh high boots that was paired with it was a perfect match. On a table next to the arm chair was some toiletries and stuff for her hair.

Stack hooked her up. Like Star was his woman.

She’d play along for now. Since he likes to spoil you and give you money for just having a pretty face.

The freaks come out at night

The freaks come out at night

The freaks come out at night

The freaks come out at night

Discos don't open 'till after dark

And it ain't 'till twelve 'till the party really starts

And I always had to be home by ten

Right before the fun was about to begin

Crowds of people lined up inside and out

Just one reason, to rock the house

But in the day time the streets was clear

You couldn't find a good freak anywhere, 'cause…

Star lit a cig while sipping from a bottle of wine in her motel room. She spent the rest of the afternoon exploring where she could, she even found a nail salon to get a fresh mani and pedi. Now, she had her nails and toes painted a metallic gold.

She giggled at the aerobic exercise segment on TV. Whoever this white girl thought she was, she sure wasn’t that. Speaking of, Star had a class to attend herself in a couple of days. She was wearing the dress Stack got her and the thigh high boots with a three–inch heel.

Knock knock knock

Star ashes out her cigarette before placing the bottle of red wine on the end table next to her. She got up and rushed over to the door. Peering out, she spotted Cora with her hands on her hips and staring right at her through the peep hole like she knew she would be there.

She was wearing a skin–tight, black leather dress with a bunch of studs, knee–high, black stockings with a lace trim, and black stilettos. A cropped mink coat covered her arms but left her cleavage on display sitting high and oiled up twinkling like she’d been doused in glitter. Her hair was pinned up in a half–Mohawk style and she wore one dangling earring with the other sporting a black diamond stud.

Star’s brown eyes with lids smoky from her eyeshadow rolled heavenward.

She opened the door and jutted her hip out.

“Where the fuck you been at, Cora?”

Cora smiled wide, “Well hello to you too, Star. Missed me?”

“I outta ring your neck! Not a word from you all day! Had me worried sick!” Star argued.

“So, you did miss me? Well, let me on in girl so I can tell you how my night went with legend.”

Star didn’t make a move to let her in. Cora bat her false lashes with a pout of her bottom lip.

“Okay, I’m sorry, girl. I should’ve called you to check in. Legend had me stuck between a bed and him, you know how that is!”

“…fuck it, come in, bitch.”

Star gleamed, “Thank you, kindly, hoe.”

Star shut the door to the motel room.

“Fuck you.” Star shot a death glare at Cora.

Cora laughed, “Oh, you already did that…wine!”

Cora snatched up the bottle, helping herself to some.

“So, let me tell you about legend—”

“When we leaving, Cora?”

Cora sighed with a roll of her eyes, “Tomorrow, girl! Stack wants to see you again.”

“Stack throwing gifts and money my way but had me waiting around like I’m on his time.” Star complained.

Cora flopped down on the bed next to Star. She stroked her friend’s cheek that was covered in pink blush.

“Stack really likes you, Cora. Said he can’t wait to see you again. He real sorry for leaving the way he did. Duty calls, ya’ know?”

Star cut her eyes at Cora, “I don’t actually. What he do for work?”

“He works in entertainment. Mostly down south. A little in New York. That’s all I know.”

“He a drug dealer?” Star cut to the quick.

Cora laughed blissfully. Star shoved her friend away.

“What makes you think that? Star!”

Cora grabbed onto Star’s wrist firm. Star spun back around, poking her hip out with a fold of her arms.

“He got me feeling all giddy and I don’t get like this over a one time fling. We gotta get back in the city before I lose my fucking mind over a big dick and good head.” Star confessed.

“When was the last time you had good dick and head, Star? And porn ain’t nothing but for show! Them white men with big ol’ porn staches and baby dicks don’t do a damn thing for you! Why you think you came to Arizona for girl on girl work? Listen,” Cora stroked Star’s arms, “I know you wanna go to Malibu…but maybe you should consider Georgia…”

Star studied Cora.

“Better opportunities for black folk in the porn industry. I can hook you up!”

“…for real?”

“Yeah!” Cora exclaimed, “You know I’m gonna hook my girl up!”

Star threw a mini temper tantrum.

“I’ll consider. But I go where the money flows, Cora.”

“I hear that,” Cora tilted her head and gave Star a kiss on the cheek, “Let’s have a look around before we head over to Vaisseau!”

Star grabbed her hand bag quickly before Cora could pull her out of the room. They jogged towards her black corvette and they both hopped in.

Whodini Freaks Come Out At Night played from the radio as they made their way towards pleasure paradise. A high concentration of vices and activities that are considered sinful by some.

Star’s thighs and hips were on fire. She shifted in the passenger seat, a cramp shooting up her left leg. Cora noticed, a teasing smile on her lips. She caught the glimmer of Star’s ruby and diamond bracelet that Stack left for her.

“Your bracelet’s real pretty.” Cora says.

Star admired it.

“This probably cost more than my rent.”

“It’s beautiful, Star. Stack wants you real bad.”

Star twirled a strand of hair around her finger.

“He didn’t fuck me last night…he tucked me in…like a gentleman.”

“He wants to savor you. Clearly.” Cora responded.

“What about you and Legend?”

“We go way back,” Cora beamed, “Deep history. The only man I let touch me. Too bad we can’t be together all the time.”

Star grabbed her palm palette, opening it so she could apply some more of her brown, shimmery lipstick. She popped her lips a few times to make sure it was evenly spread before snapping the palm palette closed.

“Why not?” Star asked.

“I travel a lot. He gotta keep an eye on the bar…”

Cora rolled into a parking lot outside of a sex shop.

Let’s go have a look around. I may want to grab something as a souvenir before we leave.”

Leaving the car, they made their way towards the sex shop and Cora opened the door. Star giggled at a cardboard cut–out of herself in the display window.

The 80s became revolutionary for the history of sex toys. This era brought adult stores, where the public could easily enter in to buy whatever delight tickled their fancy. It was colorful library with aisles and shelves filled with all things sex. Videos, dirty magazines, kink, blow up dolls, sexy toys for him and her, and advertisements for new products like performance enhancers for instance.

Star felt right at home. She picked up VHS tapes featuring her, play magazines that she flipped through, posters of her naked body folded between the pages. Cora dragged Star towards the section filled with lingerie. They searched wracks filled with baby dolls, chemise’, thongs, crotchless panties, and lacy bras that made your girls sit up high.

A worker was busy stocking a shelf with Hitachi Magic Wands until he noticed Star. A tall, lanky white male with long, red hair and a freckled face. He wore a Guns and Roses T-shirt with Levi’s jeans. Star gave him a flirty wave and a wink.

He dropped a box on the ground, so infatuated by her being there.

“C–Can I please take a picture?”

“Sure,” Star replied.

He was delighted, pale cheeks rose red from blushing. He pointed towards a Photo Booth and Star followed him inside. He kept his hands planted in his lap. His eyes gawked at her cleavage oiled up like buttery, hot rolls fresh out of the oven. He started the photo booth, placing a dime in the coin slot. Star began posing, pouting her lips or parting them slightly. She gave siren energy with her sleepy eyes and beguiling energy.

The photos dispensed and Star picked them up. She was ready to get out of that booth, the man was breathing hot air towards her direction. Breath smelling like pork skins.

“Got a pen?”

He shoved his hand into his back pocket, a yo–yo, ten dollar bill, and keys resurfacing.

“Shit—sorry, I left it at the front.”

“It’s okay. At least you have proof.”

Star slid out of the Photo Booth and found Cora waiting for her. She had a few things in her hand that she was ready to purchase. Cora held up a hot pink lingerie set that she thought Cora would love.

“Too vibrant. Maybe this one?”

Cora looked it over, tapping her chin. It was the exact same one but an emerald green.

“I love it.”

They made their way towards the front and as they did, Star got the feeling someone was watching her…

And funny enough, Rockwell was playing over the speakers.

I always feel like somebody's watchin' me

And I have no privacy (Oh-oh-oh)

I always feel like somebody's watchin' me

Tell me, is it just a dream?

I always feel like somebody's watchin' me (Hee-hee-hee)

And I have no privacy (Oh-oh-oh-oh)

I always feel like somebody's watchin' me

Who's playing tricks on me? (Who's watching?)

Cora gripped Star’s hand firm. She positioned herself protectively in front of Star, staring ahead, eyes sharp.

“What is it?” Star asked with concern.

“Let’s pay for this shit and head over to Vaisseau.” Cora replied abruptly.

Star scanned the front of the store, eyes sweeping across the windows. She didn’t see anything, but she felt it. And for some reason, a voice in her head told her to be careful.

Not Miss Doris’ voice. A chilling voice of a man.

Star…be safe…watch your surroundings…stick close to Cora…

Someone or something was definitely watching her.

And they were coming to kill.

@eggnox @blackisy2k @thickeeparker @theereinawrites @angelin-dis-guise @thee-germanpeach @harleycativy @slut4smokemoore09 @readingaddict1290 @blackamericanprincessy @aristasworld @avoidthings @brownsugarcoffy @ziayamikaelson @kindofaintrovert @raysogroovy @overhere94 @joysofmyworld @an-ever-evolving-wanderer @starcrossedxwriter @marley1773 @bombshellbre95 @nybearsworld @brincessbarbie @kholdkill @honggihwa @tianna-blanche @wewantsumheaad @theethighpriestess @nearsightedbaddie @charmedthoughts @beaboutthataction @girlsneedlovingfanfics @cancerianprincess @candelalanegra22 @mrsknowitallll @dashhoney25 @pinkprincessluminary @chefjessypooh @sk1121-blog1 @contentfiend @kaystacks17 @bratzlele @kirayuki22 @bxrbie1 @blackerthings @angryflowerwitch @baddiegiii @syko-jpg @inkdrippeddreams

[wordsofelie]

uni student!akaashi who frowns when he sees you for the first time in modern literature 103 because you rush in late, breathless, loudly excusing yourself before nearly tripping on your way to the front row—two seats ahead of him. who’s even late on the first day of the semester? and especially for their major?

uni student!akaashi who quickly decides you’re annoying. your reactions to the professor are far too expressive. you nod too eagerly, laugh too easily and above all—you’re unable to sit properly on your chair without moving every second. is there something wrong with these chairs?

uni student!akaashi who finds you weird for having way too many pens and highlighters and puppy-shaped erasers. who needs that many colours and what are you gonna do with them? does highlighting in lavender really help understand the class? he thinks that’s odd.

uni student!akaashi who wants nothing more than to disappear when, after a missed alarm, a car splashing his brand-new jeans, and a tragic drop of his coffee—realises he’s forgotten his copy of the setting sun. the very book he spent all night annotating. how is he even supposed to follow a course about dazai if he doesn’t have the material in his hands? it’s a terrible day.

uni student!akaashi who ends up sitting beside you when you gently offer to share the book (because despite your clumsy attitude and tendency to arrive late, you didn’t forget it). and who’s startled to discover that your notes are not only neat but extremely detailed and thoughtful. you even noticed metaphors and assonances that he hadn't seen (although he was convinced he was pretty attentive to that kind of things). maybe the day isn’t so terrible.

uni student!akaashi who didn’t know he liked jasmine so much until he sat beside you and caught a trace of it from your scarf. the scent has been haunting him since then. now he finds himself buying jasmine tea even though he never drinks tea. he usually prefers coffee, black and filtered. but maybe jasmine isn’t so bad and it helps ease his mind. so he concludes that jasmine is relaxing. yeah, that must be it. just something to do with chemical reactions. nothing more.

uni student!akaashi who wonders where you’ve been when you don’t show up to the class the next day. it’s pretty cold outside now that november is ending so you’re probably just a bit sick, right? but now that he thinks of it, you wore a scarf and gloves the day before so maybe something bad happened to you. maybe he should try to find you on campus and make sure you’re okay?

uni student!akaashi who can finally catch his breath when he sees you at the library. he decides to take a sit beside you because you’re his classmate after all and you missed class this morning, so maybe he could offer some help. you thank him. twice. you blush. and he forgets how to breathe, again.

uni student!akaashi who turns to the guy complaining about the noise you make when you tap your pen against the table and quietly says, “then sit somewhere else,” before returning to his book like it didn’t cost him everything to say it. but you tell him he looked “cool”. and he thinks he wouldn’t mind getting into a fight with every single person in the library just to hear you say this again.

uni student!akaashi who brings you coffee and raspberry cookies (the ones from the café he assumes you like so much, since you always bring food from there in class) just “because it’s the finals soon so everyone deserves a treat and…” but your smile is so bright it knocks the words from his chest. and he needs to find somewhere to sit soon—his knees are weak and his heart thunderous.

uni student!akaashi who shyly mirrors your smile when your eyes light up after he mentions something about your favourite book. you start blabbering and he nods at everything like he’s loved it for years when really, he pulled an all-nighter reading it just so he could understand why it’s your favourite. not that he did it only for you. as a literature student, he thought it was interesting to broaden his reading culture. maybe it’ll help for the exams. and he just wants make sure he’s ready for the exams.

uni student!akaashi who feels his ears burn red when you wait for him after class with a chocolate muffin and a tiny candle. “happy birthday,” you say, all sweet and beautiful. and before he can overthink it, he asks, “there’s a new exhibit in town. about dazai. do you want to come with me?” you answer yes—too quickly.

uni student!akaashi whose heart threatens to explode when he receives a text from you that night with a "happy birthday again!! see you tomorrow for our date :)" but at least his mind is at ease. wait—should be bring something? are you expecting flowers? maybe he’ll stop by the coffee shop and the flower shop. and the library… he doesn’t sleep that night.

i’m not ashamed to say i have been obsessed with uni student akaashi for weeks. so i had to write something.

[fanficgirl429]

The Next Door Neighbor

Bucky x fem!reader

Prompt: A mysterious neighbor moves next door and the more you get to know him the more you begin to fall for him

---

The apartment next door had finally been occupied. For months, it had sat dark and silent, a blank space behind a closed door. You’d almost gotten used to the quiet, but still, you hoped that whoever moved in would be… calm. Quiet. Preferably not the kind of person who threw loud parties until 3 a.m. like the last tenants had.

It had been nearly a week since the new neighbor arrived, and despite your curiosity, you hadn’t crossed paths with him yet. Sometimes you’d hear the soft thud of a door closing or the muffled sound of footsteps echoing through the hallway, but it wasn’t often. Whoever he was, he was low-key—and that was fine by you.

This afternoon, a notification buzzed on your phone: your package had finally arrived. You slipped on your shoes, grabbed your keys from the bowl by the door, and headed out toward the mailboxes, hoping to beat the usual afternoon rush.

Just as you stepped into the hallway, the door next to yours swung open. A tall figure emerged, and your eyes met for the first time.

He had striking blue eyes—bright against the contrast of his dark hair—and an expression that hovered somewhere between tired and guarded.

“Hi! I’m Y/N,” you said with a friendly smile. “I live next door.”

“Nice to meet you,” he replied, his tone neutral but not unkind. And then, without another word, he turned and started walking down the hall.

You blinked after him. What the hell?

Without thinking, you headed in the same direction. After all, you still had a package to grab—but your pace quickened, trailing just a few steps behind him.

He glanced back, arching a brow. “Are you following me?” he asked, a teasing note in his voice.

“No,” you replied, holding back a laugh. “I’m just trying to get my package.”

He gave a small, amused shake of his head as he stopped in front of the elevator, pressing the down button. You came to a halt beside him, trying not to make things any more awkward.

“I don’t bite,” he said with a grin, flashing a hint of charm that hadn’t been there before.

You rolled your eyes, though the corner of your mouth tugged upward in response. The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open.

“Lobby?” he asked, stepping aside so you could enter first.

“Yeah.”

He pressed the button and moved to stand next to you, his shoulder just a few inches from yours.

“I’m Bucky,” he said after a moment.

“It’s nice to meet you, Bucky.”

Silence followed, filled only by the soft whir of the elevator and the distant hum of the building. The air felt thick with something unspoken. Not quite tension, but awareness.

“So… been in the city long?” you asked, breaking the quiet.

“Just got in last week,” he replied, eyes fixed on the doors. “Still figuring things out.”

You nodded. “Well, if you ever need tips or directions, I’ve been here a while. Happy to help.”

He looked at you then, just briefly. “Thanks,” he said, and though it was soft, it sounded sincere. “Might take you up on that.”

The elevator slowed, then opened to the lobby. You both stepped out and walked side by side toward the row of mailboxes. Your package—small, rectangular, with your name scrawled in thick black ink—was waiting right where it should be.

To your surprise, Bucky stopped at a box just two down from yours. He fiddled with his key, then cast a glance your way.

“You always that friendly to new neighbors?” he asked, a subtle smirk playing on his lips.

You grinned. “Only the ones who don’t throw wild parties.”

He chuckled—a low, warm sound that made your stomach flip unexpectedly. “Guess I pass, then.”

----

Over the next few weeks, you and Bucky ran into each other more often. Casual hellos turned into longer glances. You began to notice the little things: the way he always wore the same worn leather jacket, how he disappeared for hours and came back looking a little winded, the quiet way he moved through the building as if trying not to draw attention.

Before long, you found yourself timing your trips into the hallway to line up with his. Maybe it was coincidence at first… but eventually, you had to admit it: you’d developed a bit of a crush on your mysterious, handsome neighbor.

There was something about him—something that lingered just outside your memory. As if you’d seen him before. As if you knew him from somewhere.

But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t quite place it.

-----

You tried not to overthink it. People looked familiar all the time—maybe you’d passed him on the street before, or seen him in a coffee shop. Maybe he just had one of those faces.

Still, it nagged at you.

One evening, you found yourself standing at your stove, half-distracted as pasta boiled over. You grabbed your phone and opened your messages, staring at the blank space where you'd thought—maybe—about texting someone about Bucky. But what would you even say? "Hey, do you know the guy who moved in next door? I think I might have seen his face in a dream." Yeah, that wouldn’t sound unhinged at all.

A soft knock on your door snapped you out of your spiral.

You turned down the burner and crossed the small apartment to answer it. Standing there, holding a paper bag and looking a little sheepish, was Bucky.

“Hey,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Do you, uh… like Chinese?”

You blinked. “Are you asking me out, or trying to unload leftovers?”

A small smile tugged at his mouth. “Bit of both. I may have ordered way too much.”

You stepped aside, gesturing him in. “Lucky for you, I was just about to burn dinner.”

He walked in, careful not to track in dirt from the hallway, and set the bag on your counter. “I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I just got a mix of stuff.”

“You’re already doing better than the last guy who tried to feed me,” you said with a smirk. “He brought instant noodles and thought it was romantic.”

Bucky laughed under his breath. “Ouch.”

The two of you settled on the couch, balancing takeout containers on your knees as an old sitcom played quietly in the background. Conversation flowed easier than you expected. He told you a bit about moving to the city, how the pace was different from where he used to live, though he didn’t say where that was. You got the sense he was still adjusting, still figuring out how to be here.

You didn’t push. Instead, you told him about your job, the weird neighbors down the hall, the best place to get coffee nearby. He listened more than he spoke, but when he did talk, he was thoughtful. Wry. Honest in a way that made you feel like you didn’t have to try so hard.

At one point, you caught him watching you—not in a creepy way, but with quiet curiosity, like he was trying to memorize the way you moved or spoke. You looked back at him, and for a moment, the air between you stretched taut.

“What?” you asked, pretending to sound casual.

“Nothing,” he said, but his voice was lower. “You just… remind me of someone.”

There it was again. That something.

You tilted your head. “Yeah? Anyone good?”

His smile faded just a little. “Yeah. Someone good.”

The moment passed, but it left something behind. A question neither of you asked out loud.

By the time he stood to leave, the sky outside had gone dark, and the half-eaten containers sat forgotten on your coffee table.

“Thanks for the food,” you said, walking him to the door.

“Thanks for not slamming it in my face,” he replied, grinning again.

You hesitated. “Hey… Bucky?”

“Yeah?”

“You ever feel like you’ve met someone before, even if you’re sure you haven’t?”

He didn’t answer right away. His eyes flicked to yours, something unreadable in them.

“Yeah,” he said finally. “I do.”

Then he nodded once and disappeared into the hallway, leaving you standing in your doorway with your heart doing an annoying little flutter behind your ribs.

----

After Bucky left that night, you didn’t bother cleaning up the leftover takeout. You just stood there for a long moment, staring at the door, heart still thudding in your chest like it didn’t know what to do with itself.

There was something about him. Not just his face or that quiet charm he didn’t even seem to realize he had—it was deeper. Like your paths were meant to cross. Like maybe they already had.

The next few days passed with more of the usual: work, errands, passing hellos in the hallway. But everything felt a little more charged now. You were more aware of the way Bucky’s eyes lingered on you when you talked. The way his arm brushed yours when you passed in the narrow corridor. The way he smiled at you—hesitant but real, like he was still trying to decide if he was allowed to enjoy it.

One night, close to midnight, you found yourself standing on your tiny balcony with a blanket around your shoulders, staring out at the city lights. It was one of those warm spring evenings where the air felt like a soft whisper on your skin. You didn’t hear the door next to yours open, but you heard him—the sound of Bucky stepping out onto his balcony, just a few feet away, separated only by a wrought iron divider and the hush of midnight.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” he asked, voice low, like he didn’t want to wake the world.

You looked over. He was in sweatpants and a plain white t-shirt, blue hoodie, hair messy, eyes soft in the dark.

“Nope,” you said. “City’s too loud tonight.”

Bucky leaned on the railing, glancing over at you. “Funny. I thought you said you were used to it.”

“I am. Doesn’t mean I always like it.”

He was quiet for a second. Then: “Want some company?”

You hesitated, just long enough to feel your heart skip, then nodded. “Yeah. Come on over.”

Moments later, he stepped through the door and onto your balcony, pulling the blanket from your shoulders and wrapping it around both of you without asking. His arm brushed yours as he stood beside you, the warmth of him bleeding into your skin.

“Is this okay?” he asked, glancing down at you.

You looked up, met his eyes. “Yeah. It’s more than okay.”

The city sprawled out below you, but you barely noticed it anymore.

“You’re not like most people I’ve met,” he said suddenly.

You laughed softly. “Is that a good thing?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Most people… talk too much, want too much. You don’t push. You just… let things be.”

“I don’t want to scare you off.”

His gaze dropped to your lips. “Maybe I wouldn’t run.”

The air between you changed, turned heavy and sweet. He stepped a little closer, one hand lifting to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers brushed your skin, lingered there for just a second too long.

Your breath hitched.

“I should probably ask if this is okay too,” he murmured.

You smiled, heartbeat thundering. “It is.”

And then his lips were on yours—slow, deliberate, like he wanted to remember the way you tasted. You leaned into him, hands resting lightly against his chest as the blanket slipped slightly, forgotten, pooling around your elbows. The kiss deepened gradually, not rushed, not frantic. Just… real.

When you finally pulled back, your foreheads pressed together, both of you breathless and blinking like you weren’t quite sure what just happened—but neither of you wanted it to stop.

“Okay,” you whispered, voice barely audible. “Definitely more than okay.”

Bucky smiled then—really smiled—and you felt something unfurl in your chest. Something new, but familiar. Like you’d been waiting for this moment and didn’t even know it.

[secretlypeerless-cucumber]

Lounging on a shelf is not what Shen Qingqiu would have done with his time, before. Before the deviation, before the body snatcher... Before A-Yuan.

But well... He is not quite Shen Qingqiu anymore, right? He is not sure he is Shen Jiu anymore. He doesn't know quite what or who he is.

The other is equally as strange; sauntering around the warehouse picking up fluffy pillows and blankets like he owned it all. Shen Jiu could never get away with something like that, before. But A-Yuan can, and he does.

Xiao-Jiu was an expert at crying prettily for charity; an expert of tugging in heart stings until the weakest link of expecting mob breaks and allows a little coin slip, or a piece of food drop. What he never was, is an expert at being a bratty little shit that flutters his lashes just right to get Qi-ge Yue Qingyuan to ignore everything they are doing and even intimidate Shang-shidi into staying quiet too. He was so mad when it happened... How dare this thief also try to rob him of Qi-ge?!

But A-Yuan only did things in their benefit, and never once tried to get rid of Shen Jiu too. When Liu Qingge tried to parce which one was the one he liked, Shen Yuan just... grabbed Shen Jiu's hand and left.

Just like that, without words, they decided to never let anyone know which one is which. Shen Jiu doesn't really know why A-Yuan did this; surely he must know that everyone preferred him, that they would give anything to keep the good one and throw away the rotten one. But he is grateful to have someone in his corner for once, someone who doesnt flinch at his barbed words and gives as good as he takes. Someone who understands the urge to bask in a comfortable sunny spot and shit-talk everyone who walks by.

Also this shelves are comfy as fuck, like A-Yuan would say.

Dressing as disciples was a weird thing at first. Reasoning being that, as A-Yuan didn't experience being one and Shen Jiu didn't enjoy his turn, they could try and have fun now that their place in the sect is secure and they have convenient disciple age bodies to get away with it. But still weird. Also Bai Zhan is not the first place he'd chose, but it is surprisingly quiet and pacefull in the storehouse.

Maybe its because the little brutes here don't even know what this building is for... Or because they let all of them on a wild goose chase.

A-Yuan comes back with his spoils, smug like the brat he is before Shen Jiu helps him climb to the highest shelf. They then build a little nest to nap in.

His Peak has been attacked.

Liu Qingge is furious.

All barracks and classroom have been vandalized, the comunal eating hall, even the bathhouse! All painted with drawings of pigs and "Brute Peak" writen all over. The fact that not a small part of his kids asked another what it said, in his presence, does NOT mean Shen Qingqiu was right when he said, all those years ago, that his peak was full of illiterate children.

It must have been those brats at Xian Shu, because he still maintains a secure border with Qing Jing and no one crossed over. Or maybe the pushovers at An Ding finally grew some balls and retaliated like they should've done for years.

The worst part is the complete betrayal from Zhangmen-shixiong. He merely smiled like the world was in peace and offered him some tea! Yue Qingyuan! A traitor! The only one who could possibly get away with things in front of Zhangmen-shixiong is-...

Shen Qingqiu.

Liu Qingge still doesn't know what to make of the situation with Shen Qingqiu. First he is a spineless dishonorable bastard, then a most infuriating yet kind man, and now a pair of children than won't talk with anyone but themselves and rarely if ever are at their own peak... It is most infuriating.

He is sure too, that one of them is the bastard and the other the kind man, but they won't interact with anyone or tell anyone their 'new names' either! So they are stuck calling both or them 'Shen Qingqiu'.

Liu Qingge will attend two whole peak lords meetings in a row just to get some damn answers.

Still fuming, Liu Qingge kicks the door to the storehouse. A trail of his kids behind him ready to grab cleaning brushes and soap. This should be An Ding's problem to clean! Not them! An Ding deals with the inconsequential things, but Shang-shixiong is refusing so vehemently to deal with the attack, Liu Qingge is starting to thing he knows who did it.

After watching the kids fumble for a bit he orders them to get to work, and turns to leave. Not before hearing a quiet giggle from up hight, near the roof, where a pair of vibrant green eyes watch his misery with mirth.

"I will tell Zhangmen-shixiong about this!" Because surely, with this new information, he will punish Shen Qingqiu for vandalizing his peak, surely.

"Shidi can certanly try" One laughs at him while the other sticks his tongue out at him most childishly.

This is worse than their actual disciplehood. Liu Qingge is beginning to realize, with horror, that he prefered when Shen Qingqiu would sneer publicly and throw sand in his eyes.

Previous - Next

[pyrodolls]

hi i was wondering if you would do headcannons of the yan!fanboy if reader actually noticed him coming to all their shows and events

OBSESSED (SUPERFAN! YANDERE BOY X POPSTAR! READER)

WARNINGS: stalking, average yandere tendencies, nsfw, perverted yandere, gender neutral reader, mentions of naked reader but no genitalia addressed, dom reader, reader is compliant with the yandere and teases him a ton, lowercase intended. btw i do not condone yanderes irl.

A/N: i hope y'all know i read every single one of your asks, comments, and reblogs. i appreciate them all and they do brighten my day. i'm just saying this so y'all know that the stuff you send to other writers (not just me) matters a lot!! when you interact it gives them inspiration!!! and motivation!! me personally sometimes i see ONE kind reblog and i immediately get my ass up and start writing something just because of that one person. don't get me wrong, i still love all my lurkers that silently like a ton of my stuff, y'all are important too. anyways i'll shut up now onto the hcs. (btw this ended up being a fic instead of hcs i apologize. i went crazy over this i'm sorry anon LMAO)

"hey, you look pretty familiar. have you been to a few shows before?" you asked kindly, facing the short man in the front row of the audience.

bayani froze as the stadium's screens pointed to him. he opened his mouth in an attempt to say something, but nothing came out. his face went red and his throat went dry. did you actually notice him, or was he just dreaming?

after a few seconds of waiting for an answer, you shrugged. "sorry, maybe i mistook you for someone else. anyways..."

the yandere boy still didn't move, with his mouth agape, as you continued on with your show. the people around bayani didn't seem to care, assuming that he was just a starstruck fan. but it was more than that. much more than that.

out of the millions of fans that attend your shows and events, you recognized him among them. you noticed him. and he didn't know how to handle it. what was he supposed to say? what would you even talk about? sure, he's seen all of your interviews and heard your music and dissected your lyrics for hours every single day, but would you ever want to interact with him as much as he wanted to interact with you? he was just a lowlife. he had an average job, average amount of money, he lived in a shitty apartment, and he had no friends or major accomplishments. all of his free time outside of work was spent on you. spent on following your every move and investigating everything you've put your hands on. if you ever spoke to him, you'd probably think he was some sort of pathetic stalker.

that thought drove him mad. he couldn't even focus on the rest of your concert. he didn't hear the blaring music and screams from the crowd. he wasn't paying attention to your performance, either.

he could only stand there and imagine the punishments you'd inflict on him if you found out about his obsession. would you call your security to take him away? he'd hope not. if he's going to be kicked and pushed around, perhaps even handcuffed, he'd rather you do the job rather than some random guard. but maybe he'd accept the punishment, only because you were the one who deemed it necessary. he takes your word like gospel, so he'll take whatever punishment you want, even though he would prefer your hands on him while you do it.

his imagination ran wild as your concert finished and you walked off the stage with your dancers. the crowd of fans in the stadium dispersed around him, moving along with their day. but bayani couldn't just move on with his day knowing that you know he exists now. how is he supposed to simply move on from that? he spent a long time making sure you never noticed him. even though he attended every single one of your concerts and events, he did not want to be noticed. he knew he wouldn't be able to handle it. but it finally happened. he finally got a taste of what it's like to be seen by the love of his life. he couldn't just leave it at that. he had to do something about it.

being under your gaze, even if it was only a few seconds, made him feel like he went to heaven. it made all of the hundreds of dollars he spent on you worth it. all of the hours he spent listening to your music and watching videos of you was worth it. it was like he awoke from a slumber. a long, miserable slumber. he had to find a way to thank you. say something to you. he messed up when he simply froze after you saw him. who knows when he'll get another chance like that?

it took a few hours for the stadium to be empty, and the security started to shoo bayani away. but when he went outside, the parking lot was still full. your concert ended hours ago, but there was still loads of cars trying to leave. it would be frustrating, but bayani had to find a way out quickly.

he climbed on the back of a nearby truck and rested his legs there, waiting patiently for the vehicle to move out of the traffic. even though he knew the truck wouldn't go anywhere near your mansion, he knew how to get to your house on foot. he only needed to rest on the truck until the traffic was gone.

after a few hours on the road, he jumped out of the vehicle, and started to walk to your mansion on foot. he didn't need to look up the location online, because he already knew where it was. he visited your home many times in the past, he just never attempted to go inside before.

his veins were on fire and he started to sweat the closer he got. he was starting to have second thoughts about his idea. but there was no time to go back, because he already showed up to your house before he could change his plans.

to get inside, he had to climb up a tree, jump off of it, and land in your backyard. he used that trick often in the past, since it was not his first time going to your house. he often snuck on your property to watch or take pictures of you while you slept.

he tried opening your bedroom window, but it was locked. he had to try a different one.

he went over to a window beside your bedroom, and thankfully, it was unlocked. but the moment he opened the window, he heard the sound of water running and your familiar voice humming a song. were you in the shower?

bayani climbed inside as quietly as possible, and closed the window behind him. his suspicions were correct. he was in your bathroom, and you were taking a shower. your curtains covered up your figure, so he couldn't see you.

bayani looked to the side of the room and saw a pile of your dirty clothes on the floor. he ran up to it and immediately took a large whiff at the pile. it smelled divine to him. he couldn't get enough of it. he quickly spotted your used underwear in the pile and snatched it without thinking, then he stuffed it in his pocket. you wouldn't notice, right?

before he could take the rest of your clothes, the water suddenly stopped. bayani ran to hide, in a spot where you couldn't see him but he could see you. you opened the shower curtains and stepped out with a towel in your hands. you were completely naked, and still drenched in water. bayani felt like he died and went to heaven again that day. he couldn't believe what he was seeing. you were completely naked, right in front of his eyes. ignoring the puddle in his pants, he nervously fumbled around his pockets, trying to find his phone. there was no way he could pass up an opportunity like this. without hesitation, he snapped a photo of you.

but he didn't notice that the flash was on.

he froze, and you looked towards him. neither of you said a word, and bayani saw his future flash before his eyes. you would probably scream for security and he would get taken away to prison, never to see your face again. his life would be over.

"you're the guy i've been seeing everywhere, huh?" you whispered.

"...are you going to, uh... send me away?" bayani gulped.

you thought about it for a moment. this guy clearly cared a lot about you, because you saw him literally everywhere you went. no matter what country you visited, he was always there. even if you didn't tell a single soul where you were going, he was somehow always there. you even saw him on your property a few times, so you knew how crazy he was. but you still let him do it. and you never reported him, either. you knew exactly what he wanted. you could always hear him moaning outside your window, knowing he would have one hand down his pants and a camera on the other.

he was cute, so why not have some fun with him?

"come here." you commanded. he followed your order without thinking, immediately falling down to his knees in front of you.

you grabbed his chin, and made him look up at you. he felt hot tears well up in his eyes as you stared him down. he didn't say a word, but you knew exactly what he was thinking.

you pressed your knee against the wet stain on his pants, and he let out a pathetic whimper. he was getting off on it.

he didn't know what to do. his dreams were finally coming true. he got noticed by you, got into your house, saw you naked, and you finally touched him. he was overwhelmed, and started crying. he didn't mean to look so weak in front of you for a first impression, but he couldn't help it. besides, he'd make a fool out of himself any day for you.

"you're so pathetic.. you've been stalking me for so long, and now you break into my house to see me naked. i could call the police and have you arrested..." you whispered, as you started putting more pressure on his crotch, moving your knee up and down on it, and inching your face closer to his.

he sobbed, “please, don't! i promise, it'll never happen again. i'll stop, i'll do whatever you want, i'll-"

you cut him off by connecting your lips to his, setting his heart on fire. you pulled away after a few seconds, leaving him speechless. there's no way you just kissed him. he had to be dreaming.

and then you moved your knee away from his crotch right before he could cum, making him let out a whimper and crumble to the ground.

"thanks for letting me have some fun with you. we can do this again soon.. if you be a good boy and return my underwear." you winked, walking away and leaving bayani a hard, pathetic, leaking mess on your bathroom floor.