#but i needed an excuse to share that he can play music like a shitty little wireless speaker

[bigshot]

"[I've got no strings to hold me down,] [To make me fret, or make me frown]"

"[I had strings, but now I'm free,] [There are no strings on me!]"

No, he can't sing worth a damn... but what he can do is stream music!

[steddieasitgoes]

written for @eddiemonth Day 9 Prompt: Cowboy cw: mentions of alcohol read on ao3 | link to my ao3 Eddie Month series

Eddie’s been in a lot of bars over the years, but none quite like The Lonesome Cowboy. 

Sure, there’s a wrap-around bar along the back where bartenders dressed in god-awful cowboy and girl uniforms shoot the shit with their regulars. Shelves and shelves of liquor sit on the wall behind organized according to price — the most expensive glistening at the very top. But, unlike the bars Eddie frequents, there doesn’t seem to be a collection of spiderwebs around those. 

Where Eddie’s used to dimly lit dive bars, The Lonesome Cowboy is lit up like a damn supermarket. Okay, maybe not a supermarket, but it is bright, is what he’s getting at. Warm can light mixed with the occasional flare of colored ones from the small stage in the opposite corner. There’s also a disco ball hanging over the crowded dance floor. A fucking disco ball! 

The ornate wood walls are covered in saddles and cowboy hats. A mural of famous country musicians stretches across the room, and American flags hang down from the railing on the second level. Of fucking course, a place like this has a second level. Rich ass country people. 

The dance floor is crowded with bodies, everybody line dancing to whatever song the band on stage is currently playing. A rowdy group hoots and hollers around a mechanical bull where a petite girl is hanging on for dear life. 

It’s so not Eddie’s scene, but he’s a good friend. A phenomenal friend if he’s being straight with himself. And as a phenomenal friend, he sometimes goes places where he knows he doesn’t belong, like this bar in Nashville. Especially when said bar is hosting Gareth’s celebratory engagement party. 

“I still can’t believe Gar-bear over there is the first one of us to get hitched,” Freak says, tipping his beer bottle to his lips. 

“M’not,” Jeff snorts. “He always was the most approachable out of all of us in high school.”

“Yeah, but landing and keeping someone like Chrissy?” Eddie whistles, shaking his head fondly. He catches sight of the happy couple on the dance floor, dancing hand in hand as they move across the floor. 

“Yeah, well, Gareth is many things, but a quitter.”

They toast to that before falling into conversations that jump from topic to topic.

It’s been a few years since the whole gang got together. They keep in touch, a telephone call every few months from the Freak. Postcards from Gareth’s adventures with his girlfriend turned fiancee. He sees Jeff the most since they share an apartment in Chicago. But nothing beats getting the band back together in one location. 

Before they know it, five songs have come and gone and the atmosphere in the bar is electric. Freak excuses himself to the bathroom (“‘M too young to have a bladder this shitty,” he groans before wading through the rambunctious crowd). 

A comfortable silence falls between Eddie and Jeff as they nurse their respective drinks — a standard beer for Jeff and a whiskey sour for Eddie that Gareth insisted he try. It’s too damn smooth for his liking. Though, maybe that’s just the guilt rising up like bile in his throat after he glanced at the price tag. Gareth might be picking up the tab, but Eddie doesn’t need to be draining his bank account liquor. Especially not when he has a wedding to plan now. Still, it would be even ruder to waste it, so he takes another sip and tries to hide his grimace behind the glass. 

Eddie’s eyes drift out to the dance floor where Gareth is line dancing up a storm next to Chrissy. He spins her around in a flashy, look-at-me sort of way that would be annoying if it weren’t him. It’s actually really, fucking endearing. He may have his doubts about true love, but Gareth has found the real deal that’s for sure. A fact he makes sure to tell him several times as the night goes on. 

Drinks keep flowing, music keeps playing, and before long Eddie’s the only one still sitting at the bar. Freak’s been summoned to the mechanical bull by some of Gareth’s work friends. And Eddie basically shoved Jeff onto the dance floor a song and a half ago to go dance with one of Chrissy’s best friends who kept making eyes at him.

Everyone’s fully embraced the energy in The Lonesome Cowboy, everyone except Eddie. He doesn’t mean to be a buh humbug, quite the opposite, really. Sitting at the bar is just more in line with his comfort zone. Especially now that the band is passing out cowboy hats to the crowded dance floor in preparation for a new dance they’re teaching them. 

“If you’re not going to join the fun, can I at least get you another drink?” a silky smooth voice asks from behind him. 

An astute observation that the goofy bartender who had  left for the night hadn’t picked up on, despite Eddie’s empty whiskey glass sitting empty on the bar behind him for hours.

A pretty voice and an attentive eye? Oh, I’m screwed, Eddie thinks, already biting his lip as he turns around on the barstool. 

Hazel eyes like honey glimmer under the warm light of the bar top, pulling Eddie into a daze. The cacophony of noise disappears, as does his surroundings. Vision blurred until all he can see is the bartender in front of him. It’s a wonder he manages to break their locked stare, but he’s glad he does as he takes in the man piece by piece. 

A frayed suede vest is slung perfectly over the man shoulder’s, just like every other bartender in the place. But it looks better on him than any of the others. It sits over a tight white button-up that clings to the man’s shoulders. He has the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, strong forearms unabashedly on display as he raps his fingers against the wood bar top. 

The counter is high, obstructing Eddie’s view of the lower half of the bartender, but it doesn’t take a genius to imagine what he’s wearing. The uniform in the place seems to be tight blue jeans and bedazzled cowboy boots, and he can’t imagine Mr. Cowboy Cassanova over here straying from the heard. Though, he is interested to see just how much better he wears the measly uniform. A man with those kind of arms definitely hits the gym more than occasionally. Eddie’s sure he has an ass to prove it, too. 

The only thing out of place on the man is the cowboy hat. Unlike his coworkers, it’s angled weird, barely pulled down on his head as if doing so would ruin his hair. And by the looks of the wisps of hair falling around his eyes, it’s a gorgeous head of hair. 

Eddie’s not one for Western fantasies; the thought is basically boner killer thanks to the hours and hours of Gunsmoke he watched with his uncle in his youth, but right now it’s working for him. 

Really fucking working for him. 

Jesus H. Christ! 

Mr. Cowboy Cassanova is a gift from the universe, and Eddie wants to take him apart with his teeth. 

“So,” the man asks, clearing his throat. “What can I get you?”

You. 

“How about we start with a name,” Eddie says instead. He pillows his chin in his hands, elbows digging into the wood bar as he looks up through his lashes. 

“Name’s Steve,” the bartender replies, a slight hint of pink to his cheeks. “And yours?” 

“Eddie,” he responds, watching as Steve carefully cleans a glass with a pristine white cloth. 

“You here with the happy couple?” 

Eddie hums, glancing over his shoulder to find Gareth and Chrissy surrounded by all their friends jumping and dancing around them as the pair do some fancy little duet. Gareth swings Chrissy around his waist before picking her up in his arms and planting a kiss on her lips. Shows off. 

“Why aren’t you out there with them, then?” 

“Not much of a dancer.” “More of a drinker then,” Steve states rather than asks. 

There’s no time to respond before Steve’s pouring top-shelf bourbon into his shaker. Followed immediately by a helping of lemon juice and simple syrup. Eddie watches, entranced, as Steve shakes the shaker in his confident, skilled hands. He flips it with ease, the yellow-orange liquid flowing into the glass. Steve slides the precut orange slice onto the rim before reaching for the cherries. Two for Eddie’s drink, one for his own mouth. Stem and all. 

The glass slides in front of Eddie with magical ease, but he’s too captivated by Steve to reach for it. Eyes glued to Steve. Watching his jaw moves as he chomps on the cherry, the slow bob of his throat as he swallows before his fingers are at his lips, pulling a perfectly knotted cherry stem from his mouth. 

Tease. 

Oldest party trick in the book, but it works. Oh, how it fucking works. 

With Steve’s big eyes glued to his, he reaches for the glass and takes a tentative sip. It’s another whiskey sour, but this one is in a league of its own. Perfectly measured and shaken. 

Steve’s not the only one who can be a tease, he thinks, as he brings the glass away from his lips and moves his tongue along the rim, lapping up a stray droplet that didn’t make it back into the glass. 

“Tasty,” Eddie says, tilting the glass for another slow drink. 

If Steve’s mere presence was captivating, seeing him with a smile so wide his eyes crinkle in the corners is damn near enchanting. Eddie thinks he could get drunk off the look alone. An impressive feat, given the high tolerance he’s built up over the years for booze and pretty boys alike. 

Reaching into his pocket, Eddie pulls out a few crumbled bills and passes them across the bar. Steve glances down, brows knitted together. “Your buddy’s already covering everyone’s tab.” 

“I know,” Eddie says slowly, eyes locked with Steve’s. “But I can still tip you, can’t I.” 

Eddie’s not expecting the bright laugh that bubbles out of Steve, but it’s music to his ears. Way better than the country twang that’s been playing on endless repeat for hours. He wants to bottle it up and save it for a rainy day. 

“I’ve got a tip for you,” Steve says, shoving the bills into his back pocket. “Next time you come to a country bar, at least wear a cowboy hat. Really gets you into the spirit.” 

“Is that so?” Eddie asks, eyes flicking up to the crooked hat barely resting on Steve’s head. Maybe it’s the whisky, maybe it’s Steve’s kind but intense gaze. Whatever it is, Eddie feels confident as he leans across the bar and plucks the hat off of Steve’s head. With a tilt of his head and his signature smirk, he flips it in his hands and up onto his unruly curls. “S’that better for you, Steve?” 

Something dark flashes in Steve’s eyes before they begin to dilate. Pupils blown wide as he leans against the bar, closing the distance between them until their forearms are touching and their noses are mere centimeters apart. 

With a tilt of his head, Steve brings his lips to Eddie’s ear. He’s so close Eddie can feel his warm breath wafting over him. It sends a shiver up Eddie’s spine and a rush of blood down to his dick. 

“You know what it means when you take a cowboy’s hat, don’t you, Eddie?” Steve asks in that silky smooth, confident but teasing voice of his. 

Eddie’s knees practically buckle at the sound of it in his ear and the closeness of Steve. But he holds himself together. Giving in now is too easy. The chase has always been the fun part for him. 

He pulls back just enough to be able to look Steve dead in the eyes and cocks his own head to the side, again. Plasters on an innocent smile that he knows won’t fool Steve because of the fire burning in his own eyes.

“Save a horse, ride a cowboy, right?” he asks in his own silky smooth, confident voice. And then he leans in so close that the brim of the hat bumps against Steve’s forehead. There’s no time for apologies, though, as Eddie positions his lips a breath away from Steve’s ear this time. “What time do you get off, big boy?” 

[stuffeddeer]

A soft smile pulls at Dazai's lips as he watches you grab your phone. The bright light illuminating your face in the dark kitchen makes you look ethereal, yet he can't stop himself from making a joke. "You know I don't know how to do this."

"You know better than I," you say softly, an amused smirk pulling at your lips as you press play. Nocturne Op. 9, No. 2 begins to softly play from your shitty phone speakers as you place it on a counter, walking towards Dazai.

"I'd probably be better with the lights on," he tries joking again. You don't reply as you place your hands softly on the back of his neck, pulling yourself close as you begin to sway.

Back and forth, back and forth, you continue to step, and Dazai follows each move perfectly. It's no waltz by any means, but it is yours to share. A moment together, a moment of quiet vulnerability in the late hours of the night when everyone else is asleep is sometimes just what he needs - and you always know it.

The peaceful piano piece and the warmth of your body near his makes Dazai's eyes flutter closed, his head moving to rest on your shoulder as yours falls onto his. He hadn't realized just how tired he is, physically and emotionally. His throat begins to sting, and his eyes feel dryer than normal. He feels like crying. And yet, no tears slip past his eyes - they never do - as his hold on you tightens.

The music swells, hitting the part you'll always say is your favorite, and he feels you give him a gentle squeeze, a reassuring touch that causes him to loosen his hold. You aren't going anywhere, neither of you are.

A small this is my favorite part is whispered into his shoulder and Dazai wants to laugh. You're so predictable, and yet that predictability brings a sense of ease and comfort to him that he hasn't felt in a long time. He keeps quiet, his head moving further into your neck as he continues swaying with you.

I've never been one for classical music, I can barely see in the dark, you know I can't waltz, all excuses to stop himself from being vulnerable with you. But the second you pull him close, holding his face to your shoulder and rocking him like a baby on the wood-paneled floor of your shared apartment, he wonders why he fought it in the first place.

As the last note fades out, Dazai's face is fully buried into the crook of your neck, grasping onto your body loosely and tiredly. You aren't going anywhere, neither of you are. And the two of you continue to sway for minutes more, nothing outside of the occasional floorboard creek to interrupt as you embrace each other under the moonlight.

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

Fic: Gratitude

Read on Ao3

My Frankie Morales masterlist

Fandom: Triple Frontier

Ship: Francisco “Catfish” Morales x Reader/you (cishet woman)

Warnings: Mention of shitty exes with 1950's views on women, foreplay, fellatio, dick riding which is a form of transportation but only if you need to get to cloud n:o 9, unprotected PiV sex but it's fine (this is fic so you might not be unless you wrap that shit up), some sweet dirty talk but nothing bad, creampie.

Summary: You thank Frankie for doing his part of the cleaning before Christmas. And, you know, for being awesome in general.

Words: 2,670

The drone of the vacuum cleaner greets you when you step in through the front door, and once you’ve kicked off your shoes and hung your coat, you trail its cord to the living-room, where Frankie’s moved the coach to reach the nozzle behind it. He’s not playing music, like the two of you often do when you’re cleaning the apartment, and his jaw is set pretty tight, but when you enter and he looks up, a smile slowly spreads on his face. He hits the off button with his foot and draws his hand through his hair, wiping back the stray locks from his forehead.

”Hi, baby.”

”Hi.” You walk up to him and give him a kiss. ”You started without me?”

You’re not hosting this Christmas, but the holidays are a good excuse to clean properly. Luckily, both you and Frankie are pretty tidy and share standards for household cleanliness, but the problem right now is time. Both of you are working long hours and between that and the December darkness, it’s hard to find the energy and motivation to clean. You’ve decided to do a little each night during the week that leads up to Christmas; that way, you can do a little each day and still have a clean and fresh home on Christmas Eve.

”Figured I might as well,” Frankie shrugs.

You immediately see that there’s more to it. Frankie’s fine most of the time but there are still horrors lingering in the deep recesses of his mind. They don’t surface as often but when they do, they’re hard on him. He has his coping mechanisms, thanks to therapy and you. Busying himself with concrete tasks is one way of keeping the demons at bay. Cleaning is therapy.

”You want to talk about it?” you ask him quietly, hand resting softly on his broad shoulder. Frankie blinks, seemingly surprised, then casts his long-lashed eyes down in chagrin.

”Should’ve known you’d see right through me.”

”I always do.”

”Hmm.”

”Frankie?”

He pulls you in for a hug, resting his chin on the top of your head. ”I’m good. It’s not that bad. Cleaning helps.”

”Okay, baby.” You kiss the hollow between two long, lean muscles in the front of his neck, and gently disentangle yourself from his embrace.

”You want me to get started on dinner?” you ask, raising your hand to draw our fingers through his thick hair. The way he visibly relaxes at your touch makes your heart swell.

”That would be lovely. Thank you.”

”Thank you for cleaning.”

You lean in to kiss him, placing several little pecks on his smiling lips. You really are infinitely grateful for Frankie and how natural it is to him to keep his home tidy. Your experience in that department hasn’t been good. Cleaning always caused arguments with every single one of your exes. One of them, who grew up in a home where his mother did absolutely everything, even cleaned her grown-up sons’ apartments when they were single, seriously thought women had a special gene for cleaning. You’ll never know what you saw in him but the experience made you ask Frankie on your very first date if he knew how to clean a home from top to bottom. He thought it was an euphemism for something dirty, and blushed like a schoolgirl. When the misunderstanding had been cleared up, he frowned and said yes, doesn’t everybody?

He was a keeper from that day on.

”You know,” you now add, ”boyfriends who do the cleaning get special treats.”

”Is that so?” Frankie rumbles low against your lips. Good god, his voice does things to you.

”That is definitely so,” you confirm conquettishly. ”I’m gonna treat you so good tonight, Francisco.”

”Mmm... looking forward to that.” Frankie looks a lot happier when he goes back to vacuuming, smiling broadly from the slap on his ass that you give him when he turns on the loud machine again.

Later, after the living-room has been cleaned, dinner eaten, and dishes washed, you take Frankie to bed. You give him a neck and shoulder rub, not that you’re very good at it, but he loves your hands on you.

”We go so much of the cleaning done today,” you tell him softly when you’re seated behind him in your underwear, carefully working a tense spot where his shoulder and neck meet. Frankie hisses low, tensing up for a second but relaxing just as quickly when you kiss his shoulder blade.

”One thing checked off the list,” he agrees, and you hear the satisfaction in his voice.

”You know, if you’re too tired for it, I don’t mind skipping the big clean before Christmas,” you suggest, fingers finding another knot in his shoulder. Working it carefully with one hand, you let your other hand run up the length of his neck and get lost in his soft curls. Frankie exhales in a happy sigh.

”I like having a clean home for the holidays,” he reminds you. ”And you know it helps me deal with... shit.”

”I know,” you assure him, pressing a kiss to the back of his head. ”Just sayin’.”

He hums low when you start to knead both his shoulders while trailing your lips up the side of his neck. The massage turns into caresses as you press yourself to him from behind and wrap your arms around him, Frankie turning his head so that he can reach you for a kiss. Soft and loving at first, it quickly ignites and spreads sparks through both of you. Your lips grow insistent and Frankie starts to contort until he’s facing you on the bed. He lays you down, lips staying on yours until you’re flat on your back, then he starts to trail kisses down your jawline to your neck.

”Frankie,” you remind him with a purr, ”I’m supposed to be doing this to you.”

”I’m not stopping you,” he murmurs, still spreading kisses over your skin while his hand travels down your body, softly squeezing a bra cup before tugging it down and freeing up one tit. His lips follow and he greedily licks at your budding nipple as his hand travels south and eventually slips underneath the waistband of your panties. You let him make you wet, enjoy the teasing brushes of his fingers over your slit, the kisses that follow his hand down your stomach. When he starts to pull down your panties and his mouth gets close to the growing desire between your legs, you stop him, clamping your thighs together. Frankie kisses your belly button and smirks.

”But this is the best part...”

”Believe me, I know,” you smile back, pulling him up for a kiss, ”but we’re not about that tonight.”

”We’re not?”

”Nope.”

”Then what are we about?” he wiggles his eyebrows, making you laugh.

”We’re all about you, Francisco Morales.”

You gently nudge him to roll over onto his back, then straddle his thighs and bend down to do to him what he just did to you: kiss his long, strong neck, lick and bite his nipples until they are pebbles against your lips. Your hand has found his erection already and is gently teasing it, like he was teasing you moments earlier. You kiss your way down his stomach, taking care to love every inch of the soft flesh that you know bothers him sometimes, look up at him to let him know that you love all of him, every bit that he doesn’t. Reaching the waistband of his shorts, you caress his hips and let your hands travel around to grab his ass, making him giggle unexpectedly.

”That tickles.”

You ghost your fingers over his hipbone again. ”This?”

Frankie twitches. ”Yeah, don’t do that, unless you want a laugh fest instead of sex.”

”Don’t they say that unless you can laugh together in bed, you shouldn’t even be having sex?” you tease him, tracing one single feather-light finger over his hip. You feel his muscles flex, but he doesn’t jump.

”They say a lot of things.”

You come up to kiss him. His arms go around you at once, pulling you right into the warm length of his body, his tenting boxers a stiff promise against your thigh.

”I love you,” you tell him between kisses. ”You’re perfect.”

”You are.”

”I know.” You pull away and resettle between his legs, bending down to nuzzle his hard length through the boxers. Frankie sighs in exasperation but you take your time before you relieve him of his underwear. Ducking down, you kiss and lick first one thick thigh, then the other, his hard cock twitching as it gets lost in the tickle of your hair.

”Babe...” he moans, reaching down to stroke himself. You swat his hand away lovingly.

”I know, you just have to be patient.”

”You’re killing me.”

”Not yet,” you wink at him, getting a strangled laugh in return as you finally close your fingers around his girth and swirl your thumb over the wet tip. You don’t tease him anymore but start to lick the salty head of his cock with great care, as if you were a cat mommy cleaning her babies.

”God, baby...” Frankie whines, stroking your hair and reaching for your hand. You take it and knit your fingers together, smiling up at him as you take him in your mouth. It’s always a bit of a struggle: he’s wide and hard and veiny, but you’ve had a lot of practice and can handle it now, even if you can’t take all of him like this. You work your hand on the thick base of his cock and your mouth on the top, meeting in the middle as you drool on him and get him all wet.

Frankie’s let go of your hand now and is burying both hands in his hair, eyes pressed close as he moans nonsense, blown away by your tender loving care. You take your time and go slow, in no hurry to get him off. This isn’t for that, it’s just foreplay.

When he moans your name, and his hips twitch, you release his cock with a wet pop and wipe your mouth. You know his cues, his tells, and it’s time to stop so he doesn’t blow. You come up to give him a wet, loving kiss.

”Good?”

”Madre de Dios...”

”So, good,” you grin before rolling down next to him and taking off your panties. Straddling Frankie again, you fix his eyes with yours as you reach behind you to unclasp your bra, releasing your tits to freedom as you whisk the garment to the side.

”Hmm,” Frankie hums, ”it never gets old. Love seeing the girls like this.”

”So predictable,” you shake your head, but you’re pleased with his adoration as he sits up enough to bury his face between said girls. He motorboats them playfully before focusing on one, kissing and licking the soft flesh in search of the nipple. When finding it, he devours it immediately and starts to suck forcefully. Your head falls back as you moan loudly, a direct line of pleasure flooding from your chest down to your pussy, making it throb even harder.

”Frankie...” you whine, pulling back a little but surrendering to his growled protest. You lean into his mouth and hands, finding him between your thighs and almos lazily guiding him into you, one inch at a time. When he’s fully sheathed in you, Frankie releases your tits and instead holds you close, breathing in short stutters as he rests his forehead to yours. You shift a little, brows drawing together momentarily from the insane stretch. Frankie cups your cheek and brings a strand of hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear.

”Relax, my love,” he groans, himself as taken with the tightness as you are. ”You can take me.”

”I can take you,” you acknowledge, hands on his broad shoulders drawing strength from him. ”Just give me a minute.”

”You can have two.”

Gradually, you manage to accomodate him, and you make him lie down on his back. You hiss as the changed angle makes it feel like he’s all the way up past your cervix.

”Goddamn, baby, that’s deep,” you shake your head with a little laugh. ”It always gets me.”

”Always gets you off...”

You slap Frankie’s tummy gently. ”Knock it off or I won’t ride you.”

”As if you could stop now.”

”You’re right,” you sigh as you start to move tentatively, seeking the right spots and angles, finding them faster than expected. ”Frankie...”

”I know, baby, it’s okay, take what you need from me,” he groans as he grabs your hips to hold on for the ride. You move tightly back and forth to hit your spot, sitting up straight and rubbing your clit with one hand as the other cups your breast. It’s a sure way of having an orgasm, riding Frankie like this, having all of him inside of you and rubbing everything at once, because he’s filling every inch of you, the delectable fullness driving you crazy as you ride faster, harder, until the orgasm takes you apart. You give your clit a rest and lean forward, supporting yourself with your hands on Frankie’s chest, still grinding your hips but slowing down and changing the rhythm and movement. Now you move up and down, your release lubing Frankie enough to allow for frictionless pleasure.

”Oh, sweet baby,” he prays, covering your tits with his big hands. ”Baby, just like that, I love that.”

”I know, baby,” you moan, coming to an almost lazy pace, placing more weight on your knees to allow for a thorough slide up and down his cock. ”It feels so good to cum on your cock, I’m gonna let you feel it too.”

You lean down to give him a sloppy kiss. ”I want you to cum in my pussy, Francisco, can you do that for me?”

”Yes, my love,” he groans, licking into your mouth, ”I’ll do that for you.”

”Good boy,” you coo, burying your hands in his soft hair as you continue to kiss him. He’s like putty in your hands, taking kiss after kiss from you, moaning at how tightly your wet pussy is squeezing him as you maintain a steady, slowy pace. Still playing with your nipples, it’s by now more for his pleasure than yours, but you are more than happy to give him that. You know he’s closing in on his climax when his hands desert your tits to instead fist into the cover by his sides. Your name comes in short puffs, his face scrunches adorably.

”Just like that,” he whines, pink tongue darting out to lick his lips, ”don’t stop fucking me, please!”

Your thighs are burning but you go faster, and the wet squishy sound of your slick pussy swallowing Frankie’s cock is joined by the increased slapping of skin again skin.

”Let go,” you urge him in a soft voice, ”it’s okay, Francisco, cum in my pussy, please.”

You lean down over his so that you can embrace him and let him wrap his arms around you. He buries his face in the crook of your neck as you ride him to his release. When you feel the first, hot ropes of cum paint your walls, you squeeze him hard and kiss him everywhere you can reach.

”Thank you,” you whisper between kisses, ”thank you, thank you, baby, thank you...”

Frankie trembles underneath you, his whole body stiff before he pulls you down next to him. His cock slips out of you, trailing cum down your thigh, but neither one of you care as you kiss each other softly. Frankie’s chocolate eyes are dazed but simmering with warmth underneath heavy eyelids, and his full lips are turned up in a happy little smile.

”Told you I’d treat you good,” you mumble. Frankie cups your cheek and kisses you.

”You always do, my love.”

[starynightcreator]

It's Not All Bad

Chapters: 4-8

Characters included: Eddie Munson, Nancy Wheeler, and Steve Harington

Word Count: 4,895

No use of Y/N

18+! May be triggering to some!

Contains: Fluff, Angst, Kissing, Shy/ Anxious Reader, Sweet/Protective Eddie, Jealousy, Cursing, Alcohol use, Yelling, Heartbreak, Betrayal, & Friends To Lovers.

Summary: After a betrayal from your best friend and boyfriend, you find comfort in the arms of eddie.

Please feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments. This is my first story and I'm a little nervous.

!Must give credit when re-sharing/ sharing. Don't take credit please and thank you!

PART FOUR:

You wake up from a knock at your door but not your front door but from your bedroom door. You were so confused and barely awake but at this point if it’s a killer you ain’t awake enough to fight them off so you just thought “welp I lived a good short life” so you then said "Umm..Hello?”“Babe, can I come in?” Your face hit the pillow in disappointment. You were honestly hoping for someone else…in this moment anyone else would be better. *Mumbling into the pillow I think I'll take the killer instead.” You then sit back up and answer. “Yeah Sure.” Then the door opens and Steve comes in and sits at the end of your bed. “Hey babe.” You sharply reply “Hi.” “Ouch. Why so hash with me? I didn’t mean to wake you up..” You just blankly look at him and let out a laugh before answering “You’re kidding me right Steve? Like this a joke right? Because if you are being serious then you’re unbelievable.” “No I'm not kidding, what did I do?” Being full of hate and anger you left no room for true thought and just blurted out. “Get. OUT!” You hated acting or feeling this way but what did he expect after how he’s been treating you. “Excuse me?” Steve was both shocked and confused. You never acted like this. If you did it was rare and for a reason. Yet he can’t understand what that reason is. But you didn’t let him get a word in. “Did I stutter Harington?! GET OUT! Of my room, of my house, and I don’t know maybe use that damn brain. Because I'm sick and tired of everyone, even strangers, being able to tell what’s wrong or what’s going on but you!”“Babe le-” You cut him off “Save it. Leave or I'm calling Hopper.” Unable to reason with you or even see how he was in the wrong, he decides to go “Fine geez.” You then hear the door shut and you're quick to go lock it behind him. You yet again sink into the sofa. “What a morning, an awful shitty morning.” You were so upset but you had one thing to look forward to. Seeing Eddie, seeing Eddie always made things better. You almost thought about asking to ditch the party and go somewhere else but the last thing you need is to be accused of anything awful. But a party was the last thing you wanted to go to. You only wanted to go to spend time with Eddie. So with that being said you watched time fly and it was finally an appropriate time to get ready. So you went in to take a shower and do just that. You told Eddie beforehand if he was early to just use the spare key come in and wait. There was no need to sit in the van and waste gas. So of course the boy came early why wouldn’t he and he did just as he was told. He didn’t snoop either, he just sat on the sofa listening to the music you were playing. At that moment Talking In Your Sleep by The Romantics started to play and you were finished getting ready but had no idea you were no longer alone. When alone you jam out with no shame and this song was a new favorite. You hate that you haven’t had it in your life sooner and you jam out to it so much. So naturally before even checking if you had a guest or someone may be outside you were in your own little world about to jam your little heart out. You end up bumping into the wall mid song? At least you thought….“Hi Star.” You just freeze and turn around with red cheeks. Then speak Nervously. “Eddsss Hi. Soooo.”“Don’t worry I didn’t see a thing *winks and I won't tell a soul.”“Don’t do that.”“Do what? Tell? There is nothing to tell?”“No, wink.”“Ohhh *winks again.”“Stop that.”‘Why?” You now avoid the whole thing and just pull him out the door. “Ok let’s go.” *Eddie laughs “Okay Star.” As you guys are on the way to the party Eddie turns the music down for a moment. “Hey Star?””Yes Eddie?” This time his cheeks were turning red, “You look beautiful tonight.” *long pause “Not that you never do just that we are going to a party and you got kinda dressed up an-” You cut him off “Thank you Edds and you look very handsome. I’d say always butttt” Just as Eddie turned his head to go and defend himself he caught you smiling like some dummy and it was all because of him so he decided to say something else instead…

[parkitaco]

hi!! i just wanted to say i love your fics and i love you so so much for writing them and i hope you’re having the best day ever if it isn’t too much of a bother can i ask for 19, 22, (taylor swift reference fr) 27 and 55 for the touch prompts?? i’m sorry 😭😭 that’s so many but thank you!! have the best day ever!!

thank you so so much <33 ficlet below the cut :-))

Will has long been adamant that school dances are pointless and boring, and prom is no exception, but he has to admit, this one is maybe slightly less so.

This fact is mostly to do with the fact that he’s here with Mike Wheeler, aka the cheesiest, sappiest person on the planet, who also happens to be Will’s boyfriend, and that’s- that in and of itself is probably enough to turn any typically-shitty experience into something magical. 

They can’t dance together, of course, not in the way Will wants to, because this is Hawkins and two boys dancing together is basically a death sentence, but he can lean into Mike’s side, and he can shoot him small, secret smiles when their friends aren’t looking, and it’s not a lot, okay, but it’s more than he’s ever had before so he’s willing to take it.

They argue mindlessly with the Party about something, and when the two of them ultimately win out over Dustin and Lucas, Mike holds his hand up for a high five that lingers a beat longer than strictly necessary. If they were alone, Will thinks, locking eyes with Mike and shooting him a small smile, he’d lace their fingers together, maybe tug Mike in for a kiss, tuck his face away against Mike’s shoulder. But they’re in public, and it’s prom night and their friends aren’t even supposed to know about them, so he settles for the glancing contact of Mike’s palm against his, and everything is okay.

They dance to bright, poppy music together, arms brushing as they jump around with their friends, and Mike sings along in a loud, obnoxious voice, and Will rolls his eyes at him, and it’s okay.

They chat with classmates side-by-side, arms bumping, and Will wants to wrap his arm around Mike’s waist, but he can’t, so he presses his elbow against Mike’s instead, and Mike presses back, and it’s okay.

Then a slow song comes on, and Lucas and Max pair off, and El and Dustin arrange some sort of platonic dancing deal, and suddenly it’s not okay. There are couples everywhere, boys in stuffy suits and girls in flowing dresses, and they’re dancing, and Will doesn’t care about prom, he really, truly doesn’t, but there’s a lump in his throat anyway, and he mumbles an excuse about needing air before fleeing the scene.

Will slips outside quietly, the cool night air welcome against his reddened cheeks, and takes a deep breath as he leans against the outer wall of the school. It’s been months of this, the secrecy and the stolen glances and the sweet moments behind closed doors, and some part of Will almost doesn’t mind it. He likes having Mike all to himself, likes having such a wonderful secret to share with him, but there’s a big difference between having a secret for the sake of having one versus having a secret because you don’t have any other choice.

And Will’s lucky, he knows - his family knows the general idea of the thing, even if maybe not so much the Mike aspect of things, and they support him. Will knows that, eventually, when he and Mike tell their friends the truth, they’ll be supportive too. He just- he gets tired sometimes, of having to question that support in the first place.

“Hey.”

Will jumps, leaning away from the wall as Mike appears in front of him, hands tucked into his suit pockets and smiling sympathetically at him.

Will huffs out a breath, managing a small smile back, and Mike steps closer, in the safe darkness of the outdoors. “Hi,” Will murmurs, as Mike reaches out and links his pinky finger through Will’s, just lightly enough that he could play it off if someone walked out here right now. 

“You okay?” Mike asks, because he is sweet and kind and perfect and Will- Will wants to shout his love for him from the rooftops, in all honesty. It kills him a little that he can’t. 

He takes a shaky breath. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he gets out, and feels it when Mike’s eyes narrow at him, seeing through him like always, “I- sorry, I’m being stupid.”

Mike presses his lips together, glancing back at the gym doors, unmoving and solid, and all at once he’s lacing his fingers through Will’s properly and pulling him close, public environment be damned as Will’s chest bumps against his lightly. “You’re not stupid,” Mike says, with a quiet sort of conviction that leaves no room for argument, “This sucks.”

Will huffs a laugh, pushing aside and anxieties about being spotted as he lifts a tentative hand to Mike’s neck. “Yeah, it kind of does. I mean, I don’t even care about prom but it’s-”

“The principle of it,” Mike agrees with a grimace, free arm wrapping around Will’s waist, “I know.”

Will hums in agreement, and he tilts forward to rest his forehead against Mike’s shoulder, pushing down the lump in his throat and focusing instead on the sweet scent of Mike’s cologne, the gentle sway of him in Will’s arms as they move just slightly to the music drifting from under the gym doors, not dancing and not not dancing but something in between. Boys like them always have to exist in neutrality, Will thinks bitterly, before deciding it’s not a productive thought and pushing it away. 

Mike releases a quiet breath, hand pressed firmly against Will’s side. “One day,” he says softly, lips brushing the top of Will’s hair, voice soothing every last one of Will’s nerves, “We’re going to leave Hawkins, and we’re going to go to some big city that has way bigger things to worry about than whether two boys are dancing together, and we’re going to be- free, okay? Three more months of this shit and then we get to be done with high school forever, and I know that it doesn’t make up for the bad stuff right now but- one day we’re going to go to some event, and we’re going to wear suits that aren’t hand-me-downs from family members and we’re going to dance together and- and the world is going to be better, so. We just have to make it a little longer.”

Will takes a shaky breath, face pressed firmly against Mike’s shirt, and a few stray tears escape into the fabric as he nods, clinging to Mike’s hand like a lifeline. “Yeah,” he whispers into Mike’s chest, and he’s not going to cry for real, he’s not, but- it just sounds nice, is all. Being free. “Yeah, we’re- we’re gonna be okay.”

“Of course we are,” Mike murmurs, a smile in his voice. “We’ve survived way worse, right?”

“Right,” Will laughs, lifting his face from Mike’s shoulder, and Mike smiles sweetly at him as he lifts their joined hands to his lips, kissing Will’s knuckles as his thumb traces gentle circles over the lines of Will’s palm, and it’s-

-not enough, Will decides, and just for tonight he’s reckless, pulling Mike in by the front of his jacket and, after one more quick scan to make sure no one’s watching, presses their lips together.

It’s short and sweet, because it has to be, but it still feels like a small victory when Mike hums against his mouth, swiping his tongue over Will’s lip before pulling back and smiling at him.

“I love you,” he whispers, hand still in Will’s, “It’s gonna get better.”

“I love you too,” Will replies, quiet in the night, “And I know it is.”

---

Will’s only half-awake to hear the Party’s conversation later, when they’re all curled up in Mike’s basement half-watching a movie and recounting the night. His head rests on Mike’s shoulder, remnants of the bravery from earlier manifesting, and it’s- a good place to be, he thinks. Mike is warm, and his hand rests just beside Will’s knee, close enough to brush his thigh but not quite, not daring. They’re being incriminating, probably, but Will can’t find it in himself to care as he drifts in and out of sleep.

“Are they asleep?” Dustin murmurs quietly, shifting on the floor near Will’s feet, and Will can only assume that Mike is drifting off too, from where his head is resting over Will’s.

“I think so,” Max replies quietly, more somber than usual, “Don’t- let’s not bother them, okay? Not tonight.”

There’s soft murmuring, and if Will were more awake he’d try to parse out the meanings, figure out if he’s been found out, but he’s relaxed, with Mike beside him, and it’s just their friends. He lets this one go.

“-tell us eventually,” El is saying, from where she’s seated beside Will on the couch. “When it is safe, right?”

“Yeah,” Lucas agrees quietly, and then there’s a soft weight being placed over Will and, presumably, Mike, one of the throw blankets that’s kept in the corner of the living room. “Let’s- give them some space.”

Dimly, Will’s aware of the sounds of four people climbing to their feet, switching off the light and heading up the stairs to head home, and the anxious, scared part of him wants to wake Mike, to tell him that they know or maybe we should tell them or something along those lines, because he wants to tell the Party, actually, he realizes. He wants them to know for certain. He shifts, Mike’s breath warm against his face as he readjusts into Mike’s side, scooting closer now that their friends are gone, and he’s about to speak when Mike’s arm wraps around him, and he draws him in closer, and Will forgets what he was so stressed about.

“Love you,” Mike mumbles, half-asleep.

Will can stress in the morning, he decides, and settles more comfortably into his boyfriend’s side. 

“Love you too, Mike.”

[lfcrobbo]

was looking through my drafts and stumbled upon this, from a prompt that i started but never finished! it's been months now so i don't think i'm ever actually going to finish it BUT i think it's fun, so have this very brief, half-finished cheb drabble:

Charles doesn't want to be here. He's not really sure why he is, but Alex had cornered him in the car park after the race and refused to take no for an answer, insisting that he had to come out with them. To drown your sorrows and forget about that shitty excuse of a race he'd said.

Charles isn't in the mood to forget though; he wants to understand, to figure out what had gone wrong and how they can stop it from happening again. But instead he's here; at some fancy club, drink in hand, watching a few of Alex's friends from Williams embarrassing themselves on the dance floor. Alex himself had disappeared outside a few minutes ago, Lily's face flashing across his screen waiting for him to accept the video call.

He's just about to down his drink and head home, when someone bumps into him from behind. He makes an affronted sound as liquid spills over the top of his glass. Luckily his reflexes are quick enough to not get anything on his shirt.

"What the fuck," he says, turning to glare at whoever had bumped into him.

There's a tall, blond man standing behind him, his hands raised in surrender. "Sorry mate," he says, shouting to be heard over the music "Didn't see you there."

Normally, Charles would let it go. Smile politely and move on, maybe just go and get another drink. But he's angry, and tired, and frustrated, and he didn't want to be here in the first place, and there's still some lingering adrenaline pumping through his blood.

Without thinking, he brings his hands up, one of them still clutching his now almost-empty glass, and shoves at the mans chest. He's bigger than Charles, but he's also clearly drunk, so he stumbles back a few steps, a surprised expression crossing his face.

"What the fuck," he says, voice loud and face shifting into something angry, offended. "You wanna fucking go, little man?"

Charles straightens his back, puffs his chest a little. He's never been in a fight in his life, unless you count play fighting with his brothers when he was a kid.

"Maybe I do," he says, jutting his chin up just a little. He has no idea what he's doing, but his hands itch with the need to do something, anything.

The man steps closer, one hand roughly grabbing the front of Charles' shirt. And then-

"Woah, woah," comes a voice, as another hand grabs the one that's fisted in Charles' shirt, carefully pushing them away from each other. "That's enough of that, I think."

Charles blinks, confused, because the man now standing between them looks and sounds an awful lot like someone he knows, but there's no way, because-

"Seb?!"

Seb gives him a quick smile before he turns back to the other guy.

"Sorry about him," he shouts over the music, and Charles wants to protest, say that he's perfectly capable of speaking for himself, thank you very much but. The guy deflates though, hands once again coming up in surrender before he turns and walks away.

It seems a bit too easy, but Charles doesn't get the chance to linger on it as Seb turns around to face him again, eyebrows raised in question.

There are still a lot of emotions swimming around in Charles' chest. He's still angry, still frustrated, and now also slightly embarrassed about it all; about almost gritting in a fight, and that it had to be Seb, of all people that stopped him. He huffs out a breath, annoyed, and pushes past Seb without another word, heading for the exit.

The cold air hits him as son as he steps outside, and he takes a deep breath. He'd gone out a backdoor, and is now standing in an alleyway, mostly deserted apart from a couple of girls down at the far end that are sharing a smoke.

He runs a hand over his face, pinching briefly at the bridge of his nose. He can still hear the low thrum of music coming from the club, but it's quiet enough that he can hear his own heartbeat, loud and rapid inside his chest.

It doesn't take long before the door opens again. Charles isn't the least bit surprised to see Seb walking through it.

"There you are," he says, a small smile playing on his lips. Charles hadn't really had the chance to look at him inside; it was too dark and his mind hadn't really processed anything other than angry, fight and Seb?! He's dressed in a dark green t-shirt, that doesn't have the Aston Martin logo anywhere in sight, but is still reminiscent of what he wears around the paddock most days. His hair is- styled might be the wrong word, but there seems to have been an attempt at taming it, at least.

In the back of his mind he remembers someone telling him that Seb had had a good race today. He's probably out celebrating.

"Do you want to tell me what that was about?" Seb asks him, voice careful and eyes kind.

[hirakiyois]

Understanding Wai

I would appreciate it if Wai antis could give this a little read with an open mind. I'm up for any discussions too! Just don't leave hate on this!

First of all, I do not condone outing anyone publicly. That is very evidently wrong in real life. However, seeing the kind of hate that Wai is getting outside of that is genuinely just disheartening at this point and making it hard for anyone to enjoy the show. Wai has a reason to be angry too.

I do not mean to excuse Wai’s actions, simply to explain them. I do not mean to change anyone’s mind about him but to show them other perspectives (and yes there are other perspectives) of the whole situation. Everyone trusts P’Aof all the time so I really don’t see why not with this specific plotline. I know it’s easy to hate Wai, especially from PatPran’s POV but he is not a one-dimensional character to be boiled down to a villain. If P’Aof didn’t think he was worth redeeming, he simply would not have done that.

Okay so getting into it.

To be frank, it is just hypocritical to hate on Wai, especially after seeing the events that lead up to everything. A lot of people think Wai started the whole feud but all he did was show the Engineering Gang his middle finger. It was the EG that decided to make things violent, cornering him and trying to fight him 4-on-1. As much as I think the EG have become better, this does not erase the fact that they ganged up on him.

Immediately after this, the EG harass Wai at his workplace. Not only that, they film it and put a video of it online. Again, good on Pat for removing it but it doesn’t erase the fact that this happened. I don’t know how many of you have worked in the service industry but that is the shittiest thing a server can face (not mentioning the fact that Wai was literally held at gunpoint in Ep. 9). Wai is POWERLESS in that situation because it’s his workplace and he needs the job.

That brings me to the next point. Out of all the characters whose stories we see, Wai is the only one that needs a job to support himself. The show has set up multiple times that Wai is not from as well-off a family as Pat, Pa, or Pran. He NEEDS this job. It’s also why he needs Pran’s help with the play. I can see how the scene where he convinces Pran to take the job comes off as manipulative, but looking at it deeper, it’s more desperate than anything. Imagine working a shitty job, on top of keeping up with schoolwork, on top of going through rigorous rugby training which you cannot get out of because you NEED the scholarship to get you through school, on top of working on the sound design for a play. He’s way in over his head and it is not wrong of him to ask his friend, someone who does not need to do any of that, to help share his load. I can’t phrase it well but I also believe in the theories people put forth proposing that Wai saw Pran behaving weirdly on the beach trip, maybe like he did when they first met, and decided this was a way to get him back in touch with music, something that makes him happy.

Circling back to the behavior that the EG showed in the bar, none of them have ever apologized to Wai for it. Neither have they shown any remorse for trying to gang up on him and beating him up. This is where the hypocrisy comes in. I see no one asking for Korn or Pat to apologize for their actions. And that’s FINE because it was a part of the story and we have moved on from it. As should be the case with Wai. Korn is a good ally but being an ally doesn’t automatically absolve him of his sins. He’s suddenly everyone’s “best boy” despite being violent and disrespectful before. AND I GET IT. He’s a multidimensional character too and I love him but if you’re going to extend that courtesy to him, extend it to Wai too.

Last but not least, Wai’s actions are not justified, but his anger is. As viewers, we see Pat as he is with Pran and his friends. Fun, kind, communicative, so on and so forth. He’s a walking green flag for us! Rightfully so, too! But none of this happens in front of Wai. Wai does not see Pat as a kind person. Wai remembers Pat as someone who ganged up on him, as someone who sat by and watched as his friends harassed him at his workplace and recorded it. To Wai, Pat is a bully, simply put.

Now I would like you to imagine your BEST FRIEND dating someone like that. Dating someone who has been physically aggressive towards you (without apologizing) and whose friends have harassed you at your workplace (again, without any apologies) and keeping it a complete secret. You would be mad too!!

Pat has done nothing to redeem himself in Wai’s eyes and neither have the EG. Until now. It makes perfect sense that Wai only opens up to him after he steps up for him in the bar. In the bar, Wai is still powerless as a server but Pat has the ability, as a patron, to look out for him, and HE DOES. This is what redeems HIM in Wai’s eyes. This is what Wai needed to see.

I think Wai still needs to apologize to Pran. But I also think Pran’s apology was needed. I don’t get people who say that Wai is making this relationship about himself. He’s looking out for HIMSELF. Pat HAS hurt him in the past. Once again, in his eyes, without seeing the story that we have, it seems like his BEST FRIEND is dating someone who BULLIED HIM in a place where he couldn’t even fully defend himself. You would be lying if you think this wouldn’t anger you too.

P.S. – While I conceptually do not agree with the outing, I can see why it wasn’t made a big deal out of. Homophobia and PatPran’s sexuality has little to do with the main plot of the show. The conflict of the show isn’t centered around their sexuality but the conflict between their families and their faculties. Of course, this cannot be extended to the real world, but, for me, this is believable in a fictional world. Even with the thing with Korn going with the flow of the seniors outcasting Pran, it’s never about the gender of who he’s dating but their faculty.

P.P.S – I love Pat and Korn with my whole heart but their examples had to be used for this, please forgive me hehehehe.

P.P.P.S – I think anyone working in retail or service industries should be allowed to commit any crime they want. It’s the least they deserve.

[fbfh]

ricky bowen dating hcs

If ricky really falls for you

Which he has at this point

Oh my god

Luckiest person in the world

Once this boy realizes how happy you make him

“I love you means you’re never ever getting rid of me” - ricky bowen probably

You’re always at each other’s places or out somewhere together

If you’re still in school you’ve gotten catching up between classes you don’t have together down to a science

He’s become a fucking professional at texting without getting caught

Whenever you feel your phone buzz in your pocket in class you know there will be at least a few texts that are going to make you laugh

Or blush

Or both

Whatever you’re into

Whatever hobbies or extracurriculars or things you’re passionate about and into

He’s now vicariously into them through you

You like a particular sport?

He blocks out whatever time the team you follow plays to watch with you every week

He’ll learn everything about it that he can but still have you teach him what’s going on cause you love talking about it and he loves when you share with him

He also loves how your eyes light up when he gets something right

“And Patterson’s the… linebacker?”

“Yes!!!!”

Ricky: :) <3

If you’re into more artsy stuff

So is he now

He could watch you sketch and paint for hours

Whether you’re drawing digitally or writing or editing videos or making music he’ll never get bored of watching your cute focused face while your eyes dart across the screen

If you’re rehearsing acting or dance or singing he’ll pick up little parts to duet with you

He’ll learn your favorite iconic dance (dirty dancing end scene i’m looking at you yes he would learn to do the lift and everything), a monologue from your favorite show/musical/movie/play, and your favorite song

He loves enjoying the things you love with you

It makes him so happy and feel so close to you

Whatever fandoms you’re in

Congratulations you now have someone to infodump to and share your favorite media with

He just loves seeing you do stuff you love

He is so affectionate

So goddamn affectionate

He will literally take any and all opportunities for kisses and cuddles

Even just casual touching

Your legs propped up on his lap while you’re watching a movie

Head on your shoulder during a very boring assembly

And a lot of hand holding

Like a whole lot of hand holding

He’s a sucker for teaching you to skateboard as an excuse to hold your waist and hands to guide you

Any thinly veiled excuse for you two to be touchy is one he’ll take

He was never really into school dances before but if you wanna go

He’ll do the absolute most

Make every single one feel like something out of a teen romcom

Whenever you’re upset he’s right there for you

If you need to talk he’ll listen until you’ve gotten everything off your chest

Need some emotional validation?? Boom you got it

He agrees wholeheartedly and organically that that was a shitty thing for them to say to you! You’re definitely not in the wrong here, and you handled that really maturely

Maybe you just want some cuddles and distraction

Next thing you know you’re watching your favorite shows and movies, going on tiktok and showing each other the funniest videos on your fyps

You’re cuddled up on his lap providing very entertaining commentary and jokes as he levels up on the video game he’s playing

He’ll put his hands over yours on the controller and show you how to play

When you’re not together in person you’ll facetime a lot

Most of the time you’ll do homework together

Which turns into getting ready for bed together

Which turns into procrastinating going to sleep together

His favorite moments are when you fall asleep on facetime

He feels so close to you

Just two humans existing with each other

You’re not aware of this

(obviously, you’re asleep)

But he knows if you ever found out you’d think it’s really cute

You might make some jokes

“Oh I didn’t realize my boyfriend is edward cullen”

“Not like that”

“I like to watch you sleep bella~”

You joke around in a pseudo deep voice

You’d both be giggling disasters before you know it

That’s sort of true with everything though

You always find some way to laugh together

Everything is fun with him cause it’s the two of you doing it

Even tedious, frustrating, boring tasks are suddenly exciting cause it’s an excuse to spend time together

You’re both realizing that it’s true

Everything is just better when you’re with each other

tag list: @afidiofobia @aliyahsutherland

[multifandhoem]

server collab || ii

Server Collab from the Haikyuu HQ server with the prompt: “Guess I‘ll just have to cum inside you.“

The masterlist for the whole collab is here!

Genre: fluff, smut

Warnings: slight SPOILER (it‘s really really small), smut obviously, little bit of public stuff if you count it as such, slight breeding kink, wedding sex, lot‘s of fluff

Word count: 3292

“I still remember when Iwa-chan told me, how he embarrassed himself in front of a cute girl and hoped he would never see her again to not relive the existential dread he felt at that moment. And then he told me he met her again and she laughed over the mishap and they were going to get coffee next week.”

-*-*-*-*-*-*

“I am so sorry.” His face was red, head bowed down in embarrassment, but you could still see it at the tip of his ears.

“It’s okay, it wasn’t like you were a stalker or something.” You were giggling a bit at the state he was in. “On top of that it is kinda my fault, I should’ve closed the curtains or something.” He slowly raised himself again, face still scrunched up in discomfort. He really looked like he was in horrendous pain and it was kinda your fault. “Please don’t beat yourself up over it. I’ll treat you to coffee, to make you feel better, when are you free?”

Maybe the fact that he was a looker made you act a bit more open towards him than usual, but you genuinely felt bad for him. He was obviously beating himself up over that accident a couple of days ago.

You had realised fast that you could look from your window right into the room on the other side of the street, which was why you invested in curtains pretty early. But apparently, you had forgotten to close them this time, so when you turned around shirtless and made eye contact with a man, you were both equally surprised. He looked mortified and you couldn’t even blink when he suddenly dropped to the floor, now hidden from your wide eyes.

Your body reacted, even though he probably couldn’t see you anymore, shielding your breasts with one arm, the other hastily closing the curtains. After the initial shock wore off you couldn’t help but giggle a bit. Why did he just drop to the floor? He could’ve turned around or something.

-*-*-*-*-*-*

Next to you, Hajime buried his face in his hands, but the large grin that had adorned his face for the whole evening was still there. Tooru waited a bit until the laughter calmed down until he continued.

“When I came back from Argentina for a visit she was already his girlfriend of five months. And when I saw Iwa-chan I knew that she would probably stick around for longer. You know, Iwa-chan is a very violent person-“ “Only towards shitty people!” You knew he couldn’t have let that jab just go by, but Tooru professionally ignored him.

“but with her, he was very soft, always touching her in some way. Sometimes touching too much. Don’t think we forgot the trip to the cabin!” He scoldingly wiggled his finger towards you, accompanied by Makki’s and Mattsun’s affirming but still scandalised shouts.

-*-*-*-*-*-*

“We gotta be quick, Haji.” His lips were hot on your collarbones, fingers already dipping under your shirt, quickly pulling it over your head. “I know, they will wonder where we are.”

You had excused yourself for a second from the movie the others had put on. It was the first time this day where there weren’t two other people in the room with you, everybody being huddled in the living room of the small cabin where you resided for the weekend. With two bedrooms shared between the six of you and one big room that functioned as kitchen, living and dining room, there was never space for some alone time, which you were desperate to have after your boyfriend strutted around you shirtless the whole day. It should be illegal for someone as fine as he was to do such things.

Foreplay had to be postponed for the next time, you had little time until the others would grow suspicious. “No need, I can take you.”

You pulled his fingers out of your entrance, desperate to just feel his cock in you. He chuckled at your eagerness, pushing his sweatpants down until his cock sprung free, already hard and leaking. Apparently, you weren’t the only sexually frustrated one.

“Fuck,” you breathed out when he buried himself in you with one stroke.

“Quiet, baby.” His lips found yours stifling your small moans as he began moving his hips.

Breathless gasped and small moans soon filled the room, occasionally accompanied by the sound of skin slapping, when Hajime couldn’t stop his hips before they met yours. “I’m close,” you whimpered as he began rubbing your clit and he shot you a breathless smile and pressed a small kiss to your lips. “Bite something when you come,” he said quietly, thrusts becoming a bit more erratic.

“Disgusting!” Loud banging on the door interrupted you and Hajime let out a string of curses. “If you already know then don’t go interrupting, Shittykawa!” Not having to hide anymore his hips finally snapped into yours, using the full capacity of his strength to make you moan against his shoulder.

Unfortunately, the orgasm you experienced didn’t lessen the embarrassment when you faced the others again.

-*-*-*-*-*-*

It was your turn to hang your head in shame, trying not to meet your parents’ eyes, who were seated next to you. Or worse, Hajime’s parents.

Tooru chuckled at your misery, before continuing.

“To be honest, I wasn’t that surprised when Iwa-chan called me and told me he would send me pictures of rings and I should help him decide. He obviously forgot timezones since it was 2am for me and I first thought somebody had died, but after promising to make me best man I obviously forgave him.” The guests laughed again and Tooru took a well-rehearsed break.

“I don’t think I have seen Iwa-chan as nervous as when he was rehearsing his proposal through me via Skype. I told him it was good, even though he was a stammering mess. But the thing about those two over there is that they calm each other down. So I knew, when the moment would come, everything would go swimmingly. I saw the way they looked at each other, there was no way she would say no.”

-*-*-*-*-*-*

“What are you planning?” You were chuckling, when Hajime lead you through the small house on the outskirts of Tokyo you two had purchased together when it was safe that he was staying in Japan with his work. “Let me surprise you, woman, and stop asking.” You could hear the amusement in his voice and it made your heart bloom. After all these years together he still made you feel like you were going on your first date. And he probably always would.

“Small step, be careful.”

You felt the ground changing from the hardwood floor to a rougher and colder one, showing you that you were now outside on the small terrace. You didn’t have to wonder for long, what he was planning when he carefully pulled the blindfold off your face. The first thing you saw was him.

But it was enough. He was smiling at you, his eyes radiating love. You couldn’t help but snaking your arms around his neck, to press a kiss to his lips. “You look so handsome. I love you.”

Hajime in a suit was something you had the pleasure of seeing a couple of times, but it still caught you off guard how someone could look this good.

“You haven’t even looked around, idiot,” He chuckled but still laid his arms around you to tug you towards him to kiss you again. After that he still forced you to turn around, to take a look at what he conjured in the last couple of hours.

The small garden you had behind your house was completely transformed, fairy lights making the faint evening glow even more magical.

“It’s beautiful.” The words were soft, Hajime wouldn’t have heard them if he wasn’t standing this close to you. “All for you, baby. I love you. I just thought, maybe we could sit on the blanket, maybe drink a bit of wine and just talk, you know?” His voice was laced with nervousness, even if he wasn’t even sure why. He knew you would like what he did. He went through your Pinterest boards and they were loaded with fairy lights, clinking classes, kisses shared under the faint glow. “That sounds perfect. What’s the occasion? I haven’t forgotten anything, right?” He laughed out loud at your nervousness. “No, babe, you haven’t. I just wanted to do something for you.”

His smile was so pure, filled with raw emotion, you had to kiss him again, putting as much passion as possible into the kiss. “Thank you, Hajime. I love you so much. I can’t believe I got so lucky.”

Your eyes were a bit wetter than usual and you hastily blinked the tears away, smiling at your boyfriend, ready to have a magical evening.

He really had everything prepared. Next to the blanket, a small cooler with a bottle of rosé laid, together with two glasses for you. His phone played soft instrumental music in the background, as you settled yourself against his chest, occasionally sipping at your wine, reminiscing about the past years, wishing for the future ones.

“Hey, move for a second, my leg’s fallen asleep.” A small tug of his leg under you made you sit up, while he fixed his posture, both of you now sitting upright in front of each other.

“Sorry, about that. Do you want to stand up for a bit to move it?” His eyes twinkled with amusement as he tugged you back down when you already wanted to stand up.

A shaky breath escaped him. So this was it. “Y/N, baby, I love you. So much, you can’t even imagine. You’ve been with me for the past couple of years and I honestly can’t wait for the future, if you’re by my side.” He paused for a second, hand slipping into his pocket. “Hajime.” Tears were already welling up in your eyes before he even managed to pull the ring out of his pocket, that he and Tooru had chosen so diligently a couple months prior.

“Will you marry me?”

-*-*-*-*-*-*

“Those two, right there, are a great couple if I’ve ever seen one. I actually can’t imagine a better partner for my Iwa-chan. Hajime. I’ve seen you grow up. I’ve been growing up alongside you and, dare I say, we’ve both become pretty great.” Tooru chuckled a bit, but everyone could hear his voice wavering, as his eyes were fixated on his best friend.

“I can’t express how happy I am, to still have you in my life, to now seeing you maturing into this great man who is inspiring others in everything he does. Seeing you enter this new part of your life, with this great woman in my life warms my heart. And you deserve nothing less. A toast to you. A toast to your future, Mr. and Mrs. Iwaizumi.” He raised his glass to you, a big smile on his face.

If he weren’t sitting right across from you, you would’ve missed the small tears rolling down his face. The guests around you all raised their glasses to towards you, everyone touched by Tooru’s speech.

But nobody came close to Hajime, who was clenching your hand in his’ tightly, tears welling up in his eyes, before he strode over to his friend, tightly embracing him.

You couldn’t hear what words were exchanged as tears fell and people smiled at the pair. Every guest at your wedding knew about Hajime and Tooru. The best friends, the best partners, who have been with each other since they were about five years old. Who only see each other every couple of months, partners technically becoming rivals.

When your husband came back to you his eyes were puffy, some tears still escaping, but the happiest smile on his face. Tooru hugged you too, wishing you good luck for your future, making a small joke about becoming an uncle again and telling you, once again, to take care of his best friend, his brother.

“I’m so happy to be your wife.” Hajime kissed you at your words but you still knew that he was equally as happy as you were. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily now,” you joked, relishing in the laughter that escaped him.

“As if I would ever want that. I’m going to put some kids in you as soon as possible. And then we have a little family. Maybe even a big family. Whatever you want.” He kissed you again and you couldn’t help but smile at the picture of him with kids in your head. More importantly, your kids. “About that.” You leaned into his side, grateful for the minutes you had at the edge of the room. “I’ve been thinking, maybe stopping my birth control? I mean we don’t have to start trying and stuff, but we’re married now and we’ve been together for a while, and we talked about it already, and-“ You were cut off with a passionate kiss, Hajime even dipping you slightly as he practically devoured you.

“Do you mean that? Do you really mean that?” You could only nod, a wide grin on your lips as you cupped his face in your hands to bring his mouth to yours again. “Fuck, I love you. I can’t wait to fuck you today.” Heat shot through your stomach at his words and his kisses did nothing to soothe it.

“Hajime.” You really didn’t intend for his name to sound like such a whimper. But when he growled against your lips you knew you were done for. “The bridal room. Where I got ready. Let’s go.”

You felt like a schoolgirl sneaking around again, when you were rushing through the halls of the venue, hand in hand with your new husband, giggling around, until you finally closed the door behind you, being pressed against the same one in an instant, a breathless Hajime resting his forehead against yours.

You were whispering ’I love you’s to each other for the probably thousandths time this day, but it wasn’t like you were growing tired of it anytime soon. “You gotta be careful about the dress, I don’t wanna have cum stains somewhere,” you reminded him as he was flicking up your skirt, already sinking to his knees.

“Guess I’ll just have to cum inside you.” You giggled in excitement at his statement, soon leading into a moan, when he buried his face between your lower lips, thong pulled to the side, his tongue expertly doing all the things he found out about you the years before.

“Fuck, Hajime.” Your fingers thread themselves in his hair, tugging him closer.

He took one of your legs in his hand, tugging it over his shoulder and digging even deeper between your legs, using the fingers of his other hand as well, to insert two of them into your dripping cunt. “Haji, I’m coming,” you whimpered, clamping onto him.

“Wait for my cock.” The years of never neglected training came in handy, when he stood up, with you in his arms, to seat you on the small table, that was probably just in the room for decorating purposes. You shrieked a bit at how fast everything was happening, but you kind of agreed with him.

The first time you should come as husband and wife should be with him deep inside you.

He dropped his suit pants to his ankles and you could feel yourself clench with excitement. “Ready, baby?”

“Yes, please, Haji.” You pulled him towards you again to connect your lips, moaning into his mouth when he rubbed his dick up and down your folds, coating himself in your arousal.

It’s weird to explain what you felt the moment he pushed himself inside you. You had sex lots of times. But in that moment you felt more complete than you ever did.

You stayed like that for a couple of seconds, connected in the most intimate way possible, before his hips snapped back and into you again, eliciting a moan of both of you.

“Honestly, fucking you in your wedding dress is hot as fuck.” He laughed breathlessly, kissing you again, all while not halting his thrusts.

“Think about me pregnant with your kids,” you purred in his ear and squeaked in delight when his next thrust was harder than before.

“Don’t get me started. You’re going to look so good pregnant. All round and cozy.” His speed grew more erratic and you knew he would come soon.

“Fuck, we gonna start soon, right?” Your fingers clenched in his shirt, pushing him closer to you, chasing your own high.

“We’re starting right now, baby.” He kissed you again, hand moving down to rub your clit again, chuckling at the little whimpers you let out.

“Haji-“ You didn’t need to say more, he already knew, what you wanted to tell him.

“Go on, baby.” You kissed again, moans mixing in your mouths, as his tongue caressed yours, the slight taste of your juices still left on them. Every time his cock hit that one part you had to suppress a small scream, only slightly moaning in your husband's mouth.

“Can’t wait for tonight. Gonna fill you- ah- up again and again. And then you can be as loud as you want. Fuck. Gonna take my time with you.”

The filth he muttered against your lips only made you clench down harder onto his cock, feeling your high approaching rapidly. It was him coming, his cum spurting into you, which finally sent you over the edge, legs wrapping around him, bringing him even closer to your body, completely engulfing him, dead set on never letting him go.

Heavy breathing filled the room, as you both came down from your high. Small kisses were being exchanged, I love you’s were mumbled. But it was still perfect.

“I’m already anticipating tonight,” you mumbled, slightly exhausted due to moaning so much, making him chuckle, while his hands calmingly rubbed up and down your sides.

When he pulled out of you, you moaned again at the feeling of his cum slowly dribbling out of you.

“This looks so good. You look so good.” Hajime’s eyes were focused on the spot between your legs, fingers twitching to push it back inside.

“Don’t let it go on the dress!” You shrieked, chuckling at the way he darted to get a paper towel, carefully wiping you down.

“You alright, baby?” He helped you down from the table after pushing your thong back in place and fixing up his suit pants.

“Yeah. I love you. You made me the happiest woman alive, today, you know that?” The smile he threw your way at your words made your heart bloom. You were so in love with this man.

“Now, brace yourself for the comments.” You intertwined your fingers again, going back down the hallways to rejoin your guests at your reception. “You think somebody noticed something?” Your hands grew sweaty at the thought. Hopefully, nobody suspected a thing. Especially not his parents. Or worse, the grandparents!

“Tooru will have noticed for sure. You know how he is. If we’re lucky he hasn’t told Makki or Mattsun.” Hajime seemed way to relaxed at the thought, only shrugging his shoulders, ditching your hand to throw his arm around your shoulder and pull you into his side.

“I love you.” He pressed a kiss to your temple and you could feel he was smiling.

“I love you, too.”

No matter what was going to happen once you got back, this was still the best day of your life.

[tendousthoughts]

HQ Boys Thinking Their S/O Left Them Pt. 3

Character(s) included: Oikawa & Kyoutani

Requested by: @chibiiichann

Warning(s): Cursing, Mention of bullying [Oikawa], Mention of flinching [Kyoutani], Hints towards readers tough past [Kyoutani]

Song of the day: Trees II by McCfferty

A/N: First off thanks for 200- I know I said it a lot but I’m just so glad! Next, many of you haven’t seen but I have updated a few things. One of the biggest being my name I go by. At the moment I’m trying out Xic. I also noted my pronouns and stuff. Which you can all find on my announcements post. Now back to some more ‘important’ things [though this is important, this is not why you came here!]. Sorry about the long wait for part three! Please read through the warnings again to make sure everything is okay. Thank you for everything. Bye!

Where to find all the parts!

Where to find all my content!

Tag(s): @chibiiichann & @corporeal-terrestrial

Oikawa

He was at it again. Working late nights and shit. You were happy for him. You were. Of course you were. He was back doing what he loved. He was back playing volleyball. With that happiness also came fear and worry. You knew how he was. Everyone who ever met him, knew how he was. He over worked himself. He always did and scared you. No matter how hard he tried not to. He pushed himself past his limits. Even after the doctor already told him, if he didn’t ease up on the practice, his knee would get even worse. But he was Oikawa Tōru. Determined and intelligent.

It was ten thirty and he already missed your date. Which you expected to happen, but it still kind of hurt. You tried calling for the fifth time that night, but you were met with the same thing. After a few rings it went to voicemail.

“Hey! You’ve reached the voicemail of Oikawa Tōru, thank you for calling! At the moment I’m busy but I promise after I’m done I’ll call you back. If you want, leave me a message and I’ll get back to you. Byeee!”

You waited all night for him to come home around twelve thirty. He looked tired. Extremely tired and to be honest that pissed you off more. Not only did he not respond but he over worked himself again, and when he woke up the next night sore, you were the one who would have to take care of him.

Instead of bringing it up you waited for the morning. Not wanting to have this conversation while he was tired. It would feel like you were talking to yourself, and he wouldn’t understand. So you went to bed with him and by the morning he was already up before you.

You went to the kitchen to find him shuffling through your medication bin. “Are you sore?” You ask, looking at him.

“I’ll be fine, I just need breakfast and some medicine,” he muttered. He couldn’t have cared less. At least that’s what it looked like. He didn’t even spare you a glance.

“Maybe you should listen. You know, lay off volleyball practice for a day or something. Try to lesson the hours and stuff..” You looked back at him for his reaction.

“Can’t. If I ease up I’ll never be able to catch up.” He finally looked to you now, finding the medicine.

“I mean I think you will be fine. It is taking over your whole life and stuff so I just don’t want it to be a bigger issue. Like you know.. with your knees and stuff.” Your eyes are pinned on him.

“I told you not to worry about my knee, and it’s not taking up my life okay? It has and will always be my life. It’s the only thing I’m good at. So no, I'm not going to take a break.” He snapped at you. Which caught you off guard.

“It is… It is taking up your life,” you replied which made his face change.

“You don’t understand how it is like me. You don’t! I understand you don’t have anything you're good at and shit. But you have to understand that I actually have goals in life okay? You have to understand that my fucking life won’t revolve around you and how you feel when I do something. It won’t and never will. You and I are together because I feel like having you around. Because you know what, volleyball is the only thing that distracts me from leaving. Volleyball is the only thing I can do to escape you!” He screamed.

It takes a few seconds for the weight of his words to sink into your skin. But here’s the thing. You knew what you were up against when you started dating him. He just lit a fuse in you. A spark that made an explosion of feelings hit you. When it did you couldn’t control your words. “After all that practice I wondered why you never made it to nationals. I mean seriously. You need a distraction from me, right? Your always doing it, and get you can’t even fucking get to nationals. Not only that but I can see why your last girlfriend left you. You're a dick. You can’t remember a fucking date. A fucking date we have been planning for weeks. Oh wait, let me correct that, a date I’ve been planning for weeks. Not only that but I took my fucking time to work around your schedule. For you not to even send a message.” You spat out. You looked down at him, “I wonder sometimes if everyone was right. You and me. Never belonged. I’m just a distraction from such a ‘handsome’ and ‘kind’ person.”

He looked hurt at first, but then again he started it and intended to finish it. “I can see why your whole family doesn’t talk to you. You always think you're the best or something. Maybe I remembered the date. Have you ever thought of that? Maybe I didn’t wanna hangout with you. Maybe I didn’t want to hear you nagging me every fucking second. You know what? I can see why people fucking hate you. Bully you and shit. Your such a fucking selfish freak.”

“What..?” You looked at him. You told him you were bullied, because you thought of him as your safe space. You thought of him as the only person who understood you. You felt safe when he was around you. You felt understood. To use that against you. To say you deserved it. To say you deserved to get hurt. To get shamed. To get everything that happened to you… it was your fault?

“What are you too dumb to understand?” He laughed at you. Hatred and venom spilling from his lips. “Awe.. look at the baby. You should be grateful I didn't break up with you. You should be thankful because I’m the only reason you're even someone.”

Tears filled your eyes. “God fucking damn it.” You muttered softly. You weren’t going to allow him to take you down. You were stronger then he would ever understand. “You really think anyone wants to hang out with you..? Do you fucking think anyone find you a good person..? Your just a fucking pretty face, okay? Your nothing compared to anyone else on your team. You might not realize it but to be honest sometimes I do want to be set free. Set free from this shitty relationship okay? That’s the truth. Sometimes I get sick of having to take care of you. When your fucking sore before you over works your self again. I am the only one trying to keep you okay. I’m the only one who actually thinks about the long run. No matter how hard you practice in the end you won’t even be able to walk. Let alone play volleyball and shit. You know what sometimes I get sick of being the only fucking one trying to keep us together.”

“Then maybe you should give up okay. Maybe we should finally go our separate ways. I mean after all, you're too easy.” He was hurt. He just blurted out whatever he thought would hurt you the most. Which fucking worked. Before you had said anything more he had left the room, leaving you stunned.

It took a moment but before you knew it you were out of the house, crying and walking the farthest away from your shared house as you could. “Fuck..” you whisper. Did he really not want to be with you..? You should have known. This relationship wasn’t a relationship. You barely talked. You felt alone. So fucking alone.

It took an hour for him to fully cool down. When he walked out of the room he was expecting you to be waiting for him. He was expecting everything to be okay. When he was met with the emptiness. The emptiness of you being actually gone. He was met with the realization that his words were taken just how he thought he wanted them to be.

You on the other hand we’re at the park blasting music in your ears. Forcing the thoughts to be pushed deep down. Forcing you to forget everything. Everything that hurts you. Maybe it would be best if you guys did go your separate ways..? You knew this wasn’t good for your mental health. But fuck that. This was the only thing that made you feel grounded. Made you feel okay. When he wasn’t with you or practicing he was out with friends, drinking and partying. You couldn’t continue to live like this. So maybe it would be best to let go. To give up on everything and everything you loved… your everything was him. You always argued and at this point you felt sick. Thinking about it just broke you. You had no more tears to cry, with your tear stained cheeks you decided to go back. To your home. It was over. Everything you had built up was coming crashing down.

On his side he was freaking out. He knew he was in the wrong. He knew there was no excuse for what he did to you, but what could he say? You were gone already. It took a bit for him to get to the nerve to call you. To his surprise he heard the sound of your ringing phone. So you left it. Maybe you were going to come back. Maybe you will and then everything will be okay again. Maybe everything would be perfect. It was a small chance but that's all he could hold on to.

When you walked in it was quiet, but there were soft whimpers and cries coming from your shared room. Gently you knocked on the door and waited for a response. You were surprised when you immediately heard a stumble and then were met with a hug. Your shoulder almost immediately feels wet to the touch. “Ba.. Oikawa..?” You muttered.

“Please don’t call me that.. please..” He muttered softly. His face buried deep into your clothes.

You kinda ignored his response. “I came back to get my stuff. I took into consideration what you said and I realized that you don’t deserve to be distracted by me all the time..” You whispered softly. “So like you said earlier.. I think it is best if we stop seeing each other.. entirely because I don’t know if I could let you go otherwise..”

His arms tightened around you, “C..can we please talk about it first.. please..” his nightmare was coming true, and maybe it was dumb but he didn’t realize how much he needed you.

“There’s nothing to talk about.. I don’t understand why you want to make it harder on me. I gave you what you wanted okay..? You can practice your heart out and hangout with your friends and stuff okay? You can finally find someone who will fit all your needs. You and I both know that I will never be what you want. So maybe it would be best if we just let go..”

“No… please no.. that’s not what I want.. I want to make it up to you and be there for you and I want to make you happy and I want everything to be perfect. I know I messed up okay? I don’t deserve you and I don’t know what came over me today because you're everything I’ve ever wanted. I know I don’t deserve it and there’s no excuse for what I said or did… I know I should let you find someone better but I love you. I love you so fucking much. I know I’ve been lacking and I want to make up for it. I want to be someone you want to be around again.. I love you so fucking much okay? I should have been there. I shouldn’t have said the things I did. I know I don’t deserve a second chance but please.. just one more.. I promise I’ll make it up to you.” He didn’t want to let go of everything.

“I’m sorry too.. you didn’t deserve it. I’m sorry for everything and that’s why I want to let you go. To find someone who will not hurt you like I hurt you.. You and I both know that I can't resist it. I don’t know why you do this to me.. pull me back.. you have one more chance… Please don’t make me regret it. I really love you but this.. this isn’t going to work if we do what we are doing now okay? We will just tear each other more and more apart..” you whispered gently, kissing his head. Your arms finally meet his back as you hold him. “I’m sorry.. but I’ve got you now baby. I love you so fucking much..”

Kyoutani

Kyoutani was the type of person most people would never understand. Not because they were “difficult” or anything.. they just never took the time too. Well other than you. You were different. You understood his outburst and such. But at the same time you were human. There was only so much you could take. There was only so much you would take.

When he came into the locker room you were already waiting for him. He had been thrown out of the game for fighting with a few people. You knew he was frustrated. You could hear the crowd from a mile away shouting to kick him off. It was harsh. Even for ‘mad dog’ which he hated to be called. He hated to be tied to an animal.. and always being an angry reck. Anybody would. But of course nobody understood other than you. When he sat on the bench you immediately rushed over.

“Baby.. I’m sorry.. You didn’t deserve that.. just ignore them, please. I know it’s hard but their not important okay..?” You we’re just trying to comfort him. But there were times when Kyoutani couldn’t control himself. Like any other person when they get looked down at every fucking moment of their lives. When they are ridiculed and laughed at all the time. When they are nothing more than an angry person.. Sometimes there is nothing more to do than be the person everyone so desperately makes you out to be.

“Not important? Not important! I just got fucking kicked from the game because of them chanting to kick me. They didn’t even fucking have the decency to call me by my name. So don’t tell me it’s okay and that their opinion on me doesn’t matter. Because quite frankly their opinion is the only one that matters it seems.” He lashed out.

“I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s just that.. it wasn’t entirely their fault. You were arguing with the other team members.” You muttered. It wasn’t meant to do any harm, just for him to keep in mind.

“Are you serious right now.? Nobody else got kicked. Nobody. If they can’t handle a little trash talking, maybe they shouldn’t play a sport. I mean seriously there’s no need for them to tell the referees to kick me.” He started raising his voice when he spoke.

“I know it’s just that.. maybe you should try and not trash talk you know?” You whispered softly, retreating a bit.

“What?” He looked annoyed. “God ducking damn it. How can you be so cute but so fucking annoying. I mean seriously how can someone with such a face be so fucking dumb and so annoying?” His hands were balled into fist

“I..I don’t understand, can you tell me why you act so sweet..? Then so cold the next moment..? You don’t mean it right..? Please say you don’t mean it.” You were worried you loved him but god it was hard. It was hard to respond when your friends asked about your relationship. It was hard when they flaunted their perfect relationship and then asked about yours. Its was so fucking hard.

“Do you think I would say it otherwise..?” He looked at you. He laughed at you as he saw your pitiful expression. God it was almost sickening how much he saw that expression. That expression that nobody else had ever shown him. The one of worry  but at the same time already knowing it was coming. He loved it. He loved everything about you. But most of the time you pissed him off. This relationship wasn’t healthy. But for god sake you already started counseling. But fuck this was a bad idea.

Silence. Nothing could come out. You wanted to scream. You wanted to forget this. You wanted it to stop. Everything to stop.

“Answer me.” He punched the wall next to you. Fear spreading all over your face. Fuck. Fuck. Not here. Please no. He gripped your warm face making it so cold in seconds. Forcing you to look at him he laughed at your crying face. But when you didn’t stop for a minute he immediately backed away. He fucked up. He knew he fucked up. “Wait I’m sorry baby..” he muttered.

“Please stop. Please. I won’t do it again.” Flashbacks we’re pulling you way too far out. You were drowning. No one was around to save you. He was laughing as you begged to be saved, pushing you deeper into your own pool of your own thoughts. You were so cold. The next second you were able to move back to the surface.

Realization hit as he stepped back. “I..I am sorry..” he muttered softly as he left the room without another word leaving his mouth. Words were banging on his lips but he knew if he spilled them out everything out it would just hurt you ten times more.

You got up five minutes later, finally pulled back to reality and decided to get up. Grabbing your stuff you walked back into the stadium. Waving a small wave to the rest of his team before exiting. Confusion was read all over as they saw your tear stained face. To be honest, all that was running through your mind was that you didn’t want Kyoutani to break up with you. You didn’t want to be alone, again. You didn’t want to be just another one of his ex’s. So for the better of both of you it would be best to leave him be. To let him cool off.. for him to feel better.

He was freaking out. He fucked up. You. You were his everything, not only that but you were more than just that. You were like a fucking rainbow at the end of a rainy day. You were his partner in crime. You made him feel normal, you made him feel safe, and loved. He couldn’t believe he just put that all in danger. He just put everything on the line because of some stupid game. He hit the wall hard, “fuck me. I’m sorry y/n..” he muttered as he sank to the floor and balled up. Tears burning through his eyes. He did the one thing he promised you that he would protect you from. You became the one thing he was always scared of becoming. He loved you so much, he love you so fucking much.

You left and got into your car. Sinking into your seat you locked the doors, and hit the steering wheel. Taking a deep breath salty tears rolled down your already stained face. Placing the key in and turning it the car started. Next thing you knew you had left wherever you could go. You loved him. So fucking much. But it was hard to be okay when he acted so fucking rough with you. It was hard to stay calm and not imagine your past relationship in this one. You tried. You really did but god it was hard to feel okay, feel okay about everything happening around you. It was too much. So fucking much. It made your head hurt.

When the game ended Kyoutani was still freaking out, now moved back into the lockers. He didn’t know what he was expecting but he knew he hoped you would still be there. God damn it. He fucked up. You had left. You were gone. Tears brimming his eyes as he teammates walked in. Now mentioning it to his teammates their faces seemed to change. More salty fucking tears left his eyes, as he heard about what type of pain you looked like you were in.

You headed back to your shared place. Unsure where else to go. You weren’t close with your family anymore. You had no friends. You had no work buddies. You had nobody but Kyoutani and in turn, now you were left alone with the thought of everything being gone. Ripped right out of your hands as you're forced to watch your whole world come crumbling down on you. You placed your stuff down on the side and laid on the bed. It smelled just like safety. Just like Kyoutani. You just wanted to be held. You just wanted everything to be perfect, again. To be okay at least. You needed him more than anything.

After a night out he finally made it back to your shared place. He didn’t want to be back without you, but you weren’t answering and he didn’t know what else to do. When he walked into the apartment he slowly walked into your shared room. There he saw you. Laying in bed cuddled up in the blankets. Slowly and carefully he walked up. Not wanting to cause you any more hurt. He missed you. Even for a few hours he had felt like he hadn’t seen you in years. But maybe that was because he thought that’s what might have happened. Maybe he thought you had left for good. Maybe he thought he would never have the chance to apologize. Never have the chance to hold you again. When he reached the bed he noticed that you were awake. “Hey y/n..” he muttered softly. The silence was killing him. “I’m so sorry. I know I fucked up. I promised to make you feel safe and protected around me. I made a promise to keep you safe and protected. I broke both of those. I fucked up. I know I did. I lashed out again. I did exactly what everyone says I do. I just get so fucking heated for no reason and I know I shouldn’t and I know I should just relax. But I feel like if I do the worlds would burn though my throat and then it would just explode.. and I know it’s stupid and I know I end up hurting you more. I know that there is no good reason to do that. But I just.. I don’t know. You're the only one that makes me feel normal okay..? I know it’s not fair. I know it’s not. You just make me feel like whenever I’m with you that I’m floating. I just want everything to be okay again. I want everything to be back to normal. I know I should give you space but I missed you so much. I don’t want you to leave, please don’t leave..” he was crying again. He barely had any tears left to cry. He wanted to hold you but he knew it was a stupid idea. “I’m sorry for being so selfish.. but please..”

You never really heard him or saw him crack. But fuck. It hurts you so much. To see him beg for you to stay with him. What were you supposed to do..? Leave him now? That was never even the plan. You didn’t have a plan to be honest. You sat up biting your lip before you gently held him. “Hey baby it will be okay.. calm down I’ve got you.. I’m not going anywhere now. I promise you I’m not going anywhere.” You muttered softly. He melted into your touch. He knew he didn’t deserve it but he felt like he couldn’t breathe. “Shush… I’ve got you.. take a deep breath..” you mumbled softly kissing his head as he took deep breaths. Soon enough he was relaxed in your arms again. “You know and I know that I love you so much. But there’s a line between where I can take it and I can’t. I understand you get frustrated but I don’t deserve to be treated like that. I don’t deserve to be scared of being hit.. and I know we both know that. I try to be understanding but you need to try to be too okay..? I love you so much.. more than you might believe but Kyoutani I can’t handle being in a relationship with you if you're constantly annoyed or angry with me. I think we deserve to be happy.. and if that means needing to take a break then we would have to okay? You need to work on communicating. I know it can be hard.. but please..” you whispered. Tears flowing down your soft skin again. It was getting a lot. So it would be best if you told him… you needed him to understand.

He gently shook his head. He understood. He knew he was in the wrong. He knew he was lucky for you to be holding him.. for him to even still be in a relationship with you let alone it be still a romantic one. He loved you and he knew you didn’t deserve anything that he put you through. In the end all that mattered was you in his eyes. He was going to change.. he was. “I promise.. thank you y/n..” he whispered softly. Gently he wrapped his arms around you. “I love you so much..” he muttered. Everything would be okay.. he knew it was going to be now. All that mattered was that you were safe. That you were happy.. that you were in his arms again.

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[navalcriminalimagines]

Better than me

This is my very first Joel Miller x Reader work. And I completely got carried away. I may do a series, if you guys like it? Joel deserves all the love in the world 🥺Please, let me know what you think!

Summary: You live across the street from Joel. Every night, you watch him play the guitar on his porch and one night, you find the courage to go out and talk to him.

Songs: Future days ; Better than me

Warnings: Smut, oral, p in v, creampie, unprotected sex, a bit of roughness

Words count: 5k

Jackson, Wyoming

Just like every night, your neighbor Joel Miller was sitting on his porch, playing his guitar. Just like every night, you stood by your window, listening to whatever he’s playing, tonight he settled on ‘Future days’. You remembered this song from a long time ago. And just like every night, you hoped you’d find the courage to go out and talk to him.

But you never really talked to him. You crossed paths every now and then, barely exchanging two sentences. It’s way much easier to talk with Ellie, the teenager living with him. One day, you were actually talking with Ellie inside the house and when he got home, you found a stupid excuse and disappeared pretty quickly.

You haven’t been able to find the courage to talk to him. Until that night. It was 2am, and you could still hear him play. He was trying to be silent, even though that’s not really possible. You quickly checked yourself in the shitty small mirror of your bathroom and got out of your house. Joel noticed you only when you were standing right in front of him.

“Hey, Y/N. I’m sorry, did I wake you up?” he gently asked.

“Nah, don’t worry. Couldn’t sleep,” you waved off. “Thought I’d enjoy the music from closer,” you were thankfully it was dark outside, so he couldn’t see you profusely blushing.

“Take a seat,” he offered, showing off the chair next to him. “I’m not sure we’ve ever been properly introduced?” he said, after you settled next to him.

“Yeah, me neither,” you smiled. “Y/N Y/L/N, I’m from Nevada, I’ve been in Jackson for a few months and well-- what else can we say?”

He chuckled. “Fair. Joel Miller,” he said, extending his hand to you over his guitar and you shook it. “I’m from Texas. And I play the guitar,”

“Noticed. You actually have been my personal radio for the past months,”

“As long as you enjoy it. Do you play?”

“Unfortunately not. I used to play violin though,” you confessed. “Long time ago,”

“I wish I could find one, just to hear you play,”

That night, most of the conversation turned around music and instruments. You were a teenager when the virus appeared, and you were a music junkie. You didn’t know why but you confessed to Joel that your dream was to be a rockstar and tour all around the world with a band. He told you about his favorite artists back then, and how he started to play the guitar. He confessed about writing songs when the inspiration hits. Which hasn’t for a while.

The next day, you happily joined him again. This time, you talked less about music and more about yourselves. Joel told you about Ellie, how he met her and how that teenager made her way to his heart. For a moment, he considered telling you about Sarah, but what would be the point? You don’t know each other enough, and he didn’t want to look like the man stuck twenty years prior. Even if you all are, somehow. You told him about your family, that you lost a while ago and how you ended up here in Jackson.

For weeks, meeting Joel on his porch became a thing. You were there almost every night, even when there were some sorts of events in town. You enjoyed his company way more than you should and so did he. But neither of you would say so. Some nights, he didn’t even pick up his guitar, it was just you and him, right there, talking. Falling.

One night, Joel’s heart rushed into his chest as he saw you walking with a limp, up to your house. He put his guitar down and jogged to you, right before you slammed your front door. “Y/N, are you okay?” he asked, clearly worried.

“Huh, yeah, yeah. My knee didn’t appreciate today’s patrol,” you told him, motioning him to join inside your house.

“Were you attacked or something?” he asked, watching you collapsing on your couch.

“No, no, nothing like that. I’m just a klutz,” you tiredly giggled. Joel wanted to laugh too but he was still very worried. He grabbed a pillow and gently lifted your leg to put it under.

“I’ll be right back in ten minutes, okay?”

You didn’t have time to overthink. Joel left your house in a rush and true to his words, he came back ten minutes later with something in his hand. You hadn’t moved a bit, and you watched him approaching. What he had in his hands was ice. “Do you mind if I bounce back your pants?” he asked and you nodded.

Ever so gently, Joel freed your injured knee and put the ice on it. You hissed at the cold and thanked him anyway. “I’m gonna let you rest,”

You didn’t want him to leave. Not just yet. “You know, the pain will probably keep me awake for a while. I wouldn’t mind a private concert by my favorite guitarist,”

Joel chuckled at that, trying to avoid how it made his heart melt. “Fine. I’ll be right back,”

That night, Joel played ‘Future days’ over and over after you asked him to. He kept playing and singing until you fell asleep next to him.

It took a few weeks for your knee to heal, during which Joel had been nothing but an angel. He was over your house every day, checking on your knee to make sure it was properly healing. He made sure you have enough ice and he brought your meals to prevent you from going to the self. Even while being on a patrol, he found a way to have your meals being brought to you.

“Must be nice to be Joel Miller’s favorite,” Jesse joked as you opened the door. He was holding your dinner in one hand and some ice in the other. “God I wish someone would home delivered for me,”

You let your friend in, and settled back on your couch with your leg up. “I can injure your knee for you,” you offered with a grin.

“Wouldn’t work. I’m not cute enough to get Joel’s attention,”

“Shut up!”

Jesse sat next to you. “His guitar’s here. Is he living here? Oh my god, are you guys dating?”

“No! We’re just friends,” you explained. “We just share the same love of music. So, yes, he does come here and plays,”

“Wow, you really think I’m gonna buy this?” Jesse raised an eyebrow at you.

“Jesse, I swear. Nothing is happening between me and Joel,”

“But you wished,”

“Just leave already.” you retorted.

“Y/N, be careful, okay? The man is broken,”

“Yeah, so?”

“I just don’t want you to get hurt,”

“Right. Cause you surely stopped loving Dina when you found that she was a lesbian!”

“I’m just saying, Y/N.”

“Thanks for the home delivery,” you don’t want a cold to stand between you and Jesse, “If I had money, I’d tip you,” you smiled at him.

“You know, you could pay me in nature,”

While that sentence made you laugh, Joel didn’t have the same reaction. He was standing right behind Jesse, his arms crossed over his chest. Your friend didn’t see him at first, still waiting for you to say something, “Hi, Joel,” you said, embarrassed.

Jesse didn’t turn around immediately. He knew Joel would kill him if he could. “I’m just gonna go and avoid your eyes, Joel,” he said, leaving the house in a rush, his face buried deep in his shoulders.

“Good call,” Joel muttered.

“It was just a joke,” you said as soon as you heard the door closing.

“I wouldn’t be sure about that, Y/N. He was just waiting for you to say yes,” Joel was still standing with his arms crossed.

“So, what if I agreed?” you teased him, hoping it would make things move forward a little. But it didn’t.

“Do you want me to call him back? He isn’t far, yet,”

“Just come here and give me my hug, would you?”

Joel’s anger - and obvious jealousy - evaporated as soon as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He isn’t much of a hugger, but you are and you managed to make him addicted to your hugs. He loves being intoxicated by your scent, he loves how you hold him tight, he loves how your fingers always find their way to the small hair in the back of his head. And you love how he buries his head in your back, how his strong arms wrap you so perfectly, how his hands sometimes grab your clothes in a fist.

A few weeks later

Your knee was completely healed and you were back on patrols. Things were moving in Jackson and you and Joel spent less late nights together. You were missing him and he was missing you.

One night, a ball was being held. Everyone here needed that every now and then to cheer up and have some good time. Jesse, Dina and Ellie convinced you to come. You did and as predicted, you spent the entire night waiting for Joel to appear, but he never did.

You were walking back to your house around 3 in the morning. As you approached your street, you could hear the music. Instead of going home, you stopped in front of Joel’s porch. “You said you’d come,” you told him.

“I know, I shouldn’t have. Those aren’t my thing,” he apologized. “Are you mad?”

“No,” you said, lying just a little and sitting next to him. “Just disappointed. It was really nice,”

“No doubt. I’m sorry,”

“I’ll accept your apology with you show me how to play,”

Joel chuckled and handed you his guitar. Then, he moved his chair closer to yours. His chest was literally against your back, his face a few inches from yours. You tried to focus on the instrument, but he made it really hard as his hand covered yours in order to show you where to put your fingers. He started with the easiest chord, E.

As you played violin, it wasn’t completely new to you. But you’d have played dumb if needed, as long as he stayed right where he was. When E sounded good, Joel turned his face to the side to look at you. You were already staring. His lips were so close to yours, you could feel his hot breath on your skin. His eyes went from your eyes to your lips, from your lips to your eyes.

It was now or never. You took your shot and crashed your lips on his. Thankfully, he eagerly responded to your kiss. One of his hands moved to your neck, his beard was gently tickling your skin and he parted his lips, letting his tongue out. You happily welcomed his tongue into your mouth and moaned. The kiss was passionate and intense, Joel couldn’t get you close enough to his liking.

But eventually, he broke it off. You whined, and when you opened your eyes again, you couldn’t see it caused him physical pain to break the kiss. “Don’t you want—“ you start to say.

“I do,” he cut you off. “God, how I do,” his nose was brushing against yours, his hand still in your neck.

“Then why aren’t lips on mine anymore?” You gently nipped his bottom lip and that made him chuckle.

“Are you sure, Y/N?” He had to ask.

“Fuck, Joel. I’ve been simping over you for ages,”

“Simping?”

“Right, sorry I forgot how old you are,” you rolled your eyes.

“I’m gonna show you how old I am, babygirl,” he groaned.

In a flash, Joel grabbed his guitar and your wrist. You’re actually not sure which one he was holding the softest. He put the guitar in the living room and took you to his bedroom. As soon as he kicked the door shut, he spinned you around, holding you against the door and his lips crashed on yours, roughly.

He didn’t kiss you long enough, though. He quickly drifted south, and assaulted your neck. You moaned in his hair, and you could feel the obvious bulge in his jeans against your thighs. His hands traveled under your top and you tried to palm his erection, but he immediately stopped you.

Joel grabbed your wrists into his hand and pinned them above your head. He just stared for a moment. Stared at your swollen lips, at the marks he already made in your neck and in your eyes. You were looking at him with both killing desire and love. It confused him for a brief second but he shut his brain and kissed you again.

You were desperate to touch him, undress him, feel him. But he was strongly holding your hands, all you could was grinding your center against his thigh. “So needy,” he whispered in your ear before nipping the lobe. You swallowed thickly and let out a loud moan.

“Yes, I need you Joel. Please,” you begged him. When was the last time someone beg for him?

“It’s been such a long time, I probably won’t last,” he breathed out, shamefully.

“We have a lifetime ahead of us, who cares,”

That sentence didn’t have the impact you were shooting for. In a second, you were completely free from Joel’s grip as he took a big step back. He was panting. “That’s not—“ he whispered, trying to put his thoughts into words.

“Aw baby, did you already come?” you teased him.

“That was a close call, but that’s not my point, Y/N,” you could see he was getting angry. But why? At who?

You took a step forward, your hands tenderly cupping his bearded cheeks. “Then what is your point?” you asked, genuinely concerned.

“This—is a bad idea,” Joel struggled. He leaned into your touch but frowned as he knew he couldn’t enjoy it too much. “You—you should leave,” he wrapped his hands around your wrists, forcing you to let go of his face.

“Not until you give me one good reason, Joel.” Now, you were getting angry. Hurt. Frustrated. All of that.

“You deserve better—“ he whispered. “Better than me,”

“That’s not a good—“

“That’s good enough for me. Please, Y/N.” He begged you, pain clearly written all over his face.

“You’re making a big mistake, you know that?” Joel heard your voice cracking and you had barely finished your sentence, that his thumb was softly brushing your lips.

“That’s my jam,” he sadly tried to joke.

You have no idea what happened in his mind in a brief period of time but for whatever reason, Joel wanted you to leave. He had changed his mind and you’re not the kind of person to force people. If he doesn’t want you like this, if he doesn’t want you around him, you’ll let him be.

You left his house. Leaving you both broken-hearted.

A year later

Avoiding someone in Jackson isn’t an easy task, but somehow, Joel managed to do it pretty well. He always disappeared when you showed up, no matter where it was. He managed to never stare at you from afar when you were definitely staring. The only moment you could’ve walked to him and asked for explanations was at night, as he kept playing the guitar and all of those songs you kept talking about. But he asked you to leave and never apologized. Why would you be the one to make the first move?

As Joel checked his next patrol, he noticed he’s set on a patrol with you the very next day. Completely pissed off, he bursted into Tommy’s office and slammed the door behind. He planted his fists on the desk and stared at his younger brother. “Why the hell am I teaming with Y/N for tomorrow’s patrol?” he barked.

“What’s wrong with her?” Tommy asked, genuinely curious as to why Joel was that mad.

“Nothing,” he said, raising his hands defensively. “I just don’t want to team up with her,”

“I’ll consider making some changes, if you give me a good reason,” Tommy stood up and got closer to Joel.

“I--I almost had sex with her,”

“Almost? Couldn’t get through with it, brother?” Tommy teased him.

Before answering, Joel threw himself on the worn out couch and Tommy sat on the armbar, waiting for explanations. “We were--at it. But I had to stop,” Joel admitted, growling at himself.

“Couldn’t get it up?”

“Tommy, fuck off,”

“I honestly don’t understand how in the world you couldn’t have sex with one of the most beautiful women in Jackson,”

“Cause-- she deserves better than this. Better than me,”

“Bullshit!” Tommy shouted.

“Listen, I’m an old grumpy and lonely guy--” Joel trailed off.

“Cut the crap, bro. I’ve always wondered what her deal was, since she’s turning down all the guys around, but now it makes sense. She clearly wants you,”

“She shouldn’t,”

“Don’t you think that’s on her to decide? So, please, get the hell out of my office, go on that patrol with her tomorrow and take things back where you left them,”

“You’re the worst brother ever,” Joel rolled his eyes.

“I know. I want my brother to get laid, how horrible of me,” Tommy sarcastically answered, before giving his brother a tap in his back.

The next day came way too fast for Joel.

He was late and people were pressing you to do the patrol. You took the two horses with you and walked up to his house. You knocked and let yourself in immediately, “Joel, you’re late,” you called out for him, “I know you don’t want to spend the day with me but we don’t have a choice,” you spoke loudly, not knowing where he was. As you walked to the kitchen, you saw Ellie packing her bag. “Oh, hey El!” you greeted her, hoping you weren’t blushing.

She smiled at you. “Joel’s in the bathroom. He should be down in a minute,” she told you before walking out. “He brought some coffee. Help yourself,”

“Oh, nice!”

Upstairs, Joel couldn’t decide what to wear. Why did it matter anyway? Why did he want to look...good for you? He didn’t have much clothes and all of them were used and dirty. But he settled for his green shirt, as he remembered you telling him it looked good on him. He checked his hair and beard one more time, he even checked his breath before cursing to himself. And he joined you downstairs.

You poured yourself a cup of coffee in Joel’s used mug and started to look around, waiting for him. You hadn’t been there in a year, you hadn’t even approached the porch. You missed this, you missed Joel.

A paper on the coffee table grabbed your attention. You took it in your hand and started to read what was on it, but you heard Joel’s footsteps coming down. You only had a glimpse of it

“The bed I'm lying in is getting colder

Wish I never would've said it's over

And I can't pretend

I won't think about you when I'm older

'Cause we never really had our closure

This can't be the end

I really miss your hair in my face

And the way your innocence tastes

And I think you should know this

You deserve much better than me”

You recognized Joel’s handwriting. This really sounded like a song, but no time to analyze it, as he took the paper from your hand and folded it in his back pocket. “Is that a song?” You asked.

“Really don’t want to talk about it. Let’s go,”

“Haven’t finished my coff—“ you didn’t have time to finish either your sentence or your coffee. Joel grabbed the mug from your hand and drank the rest of the brown liquor.

“There. Finished.”

“Wow, it’s gonna be a long day,” you mumbled in your teeth as you were walking out.

“What?” Joel asked from behind.

“It’s gonna be a wonderful day!” You sarcastically exclaimed.

It was indeed a long day. You and Joel barely talked, only exchanging about your ride of the day. You tried your best not to look much at him, but it was hard as he was looking this good with his green shirt. The worst was when he rolled up his sleeves, showing off his strong and veiny forearms.

On the other hand, Joel spent the entire day looking at you. Most of the time, you were riding the horse in front of him. He had a perfect view on your ass and he loved how it bounced. You were wearing an old tank top, letting him see your tattoo on your shoulder. He wanted to press his lips against your skin again. He missed you like hell.

“Are you mad at me, Y/N?” he asked, while the two of you had gone down from the horses. You turned around to face him.

“Mad?” you sounded angry but somehow, your body language and the sadness on your face said otherwise. “No, I’m just--lost. I still don’t understand, Joel.” you shrugged. There was something in your expression, on your face, that broke his heart all over again.

“I told you.” he just answered.

“Well okay, let’s say that it doesn’t make sense to me,” you corrected yourself, “We spent so much time together, and every second was amazing. Then we kissed and--you took me inside your house, you pinned me against your door, I thought it was going really well and all of the sudden, you backed off. And--and you spent the past year avoiding me, but somehow, you still play your fucking guitar on your porch, knowing that I can hear you. Hell, you spend a serious amount of time playing ‘Future days’— and what you wrote—”

You hadn’t realized you were rambling until his lips crashed into yours. Rough but tender at the same time, his beard tickled your nose. He was holding your face in his hands, making you as close as possible to him. It stayed a chaste kiss until he pulled back. “And now you’re kissing me again,” you said, a bit shaken in a beautiful way.

“I just wanted you to shut up,” he smirked.

“Please, make some sense, Joel,” you pleaded him. “Because I really don’t understand and it prevents me from moving on,” you paused, “Not that I actually want to move on,”

“You never shut up, do you?”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t stop kissing me,”

Back at your house

This past year was long forgotten when you and Joel reached your house. You locked your door behind and basically ran to your bedroom, taking him with you. You were so fast, Joel almost tripped in the stairs. Once in your bedroom, you threw him on your bed and straddled him. You were not going to let him escape this time.

You crashed your lips on his, and you kissed him feverishly. You never unbuttoned a shirt this fast in your life. Joel’s hands got under your tank top and quickly got rid of it, along with your bra. Joel cupped one of your breasts in his hand and brought his mouth to the other. He played with your nipples for a moment, while you freed him from his jeans and boxers. You stroked him a few times, feeling some precum on your fingers. Joel let out the biggest moan he ever had. It’s been so long. So fucking long, he couldn’t stand the foreplay, “I need to be inside you, sweetheart. Like, right now,” he growled.

You got off his lap just to take your pants and panties off. Joel’s eyes darken at the sight of your naked body. He could’ve come just from the sight.

You pushed his shoulders so he was completely laying on the bed. Joel felt your wetness when you started to grind your center against his hard cock. It was killing him.

“Just for my peace of mind,” he managed to say, “You’re not a virgin, are you?” he asked, his hands resting on your hips.

“Would it change something if I was?” you answered, pressing your body against his.

“Yes. I wouldn’t want to hurt you. I would take my time with you,” he gently said, planting soft kisses around your mouth.

“I’m not a virgin. It’s been a while though, does hymen grow back?”

Joel laughed at that, but his laugh quickly turned into a deep growl as you made him penetrate you. You slided onto him so slowly, it took everything in his power not to shove his length as deep as he could. You felt his fingers digging so hard on your hips, you’ll probably wake up with bruises in the morning. It’s been such a long time, it almost felt like it was indeed your first time.

As he bottomed out, Joel kissed you roughly. He’s not going to last. This is too much. “Fuck, Y/N! You’re so tight,” he groaned in your ear, holding your hair in his fist.

You pulled out slowly and got him to bottom out again. You rode him with this killer pace, until he couldn’t take it anymore. He made you roll over and pinned you down onto the mattress. Again, his fingers dug into your skin, and his lips crashed on yours in a rough and sloppy kiss. Joel quickened the pace, fucking you relentlessly. He could hear you cry his name and it quickly became a blur to him. It was so much for him, he completely forgot about your pleasure and after a few quick and hard thrusts, Joel came deep inside your pussy, crying your name out loud.

This was too quick, you didn’t have time to cum too. But you didn’t mind, you knew he was going to get even. Plus, seeing him falling apart on top of you like that was the most sexy and erotic and amazing thing you ever witnessed. That image only could get you soaking wet. Pretty much like you were at this moment.

“Fuck, sweetheart, I’m so sorry,” he said, collapsing on you.

“It’s okay,” you reassured him, stroking his hair and kissing his temple. He was sweaty as hell, but you loved the taste of him on your lips.

“God,” he panicked, “I came inside you,” he looked at you with wide eyes, realizing the risk it was. He should have never come inside you. This is way too risky. There are no birth controls and no condoms. He can’t do that again. The panic washed him over, but you stayed pretty calmed under him. “Why are you not freaking out? Yelling at me?”

“Is there anything we can do about it?” you asked, steady.

“Well--” he trailed off. Obviously, there’s nothing you can do about it. He came, it’s too late.

“I’ll be careful next time, I promise.” he apologized and kissed you.

Once the panic disappeared, Joel remembered that you didn’t come. He got carried away by his own pleasure, he completely forgot about yours. “Don’t move,” he ordered you and made a trail of wet kisses down to your core. You moaned when his lips reached your clit and he smirked. He licked and sucked on your clit for a moment, one of his arms around your waist to keep you still. When he felt your hand running through his hair, and your nails digging on his scalp, he moaned himself. “Fuck, you’re tasting yourself,” you breathed out.

“I couldn’t care less.” he muttered.

As he kept eating like a starving man, Joel surprised you with a thick finger entering your core. “Jesus, Joel! Yes!” you cried and he didn’t waste time adding another finger. His fingers were curling inside you, hitting exactly where they were supposed and he remained sucking hard on your clit. “Just like that, yes! Fuck!” he felt your body shaking under him and his free hand immediately rushed to your breasts, pinching your nipples between his thumb and index. He didn’t stop, not even slowed down until you came hard on his face, crying his name so loud, all Jackson probably heard you.

As you were catching your breath, Joel got back on top of you and wrapped an arm around your neck. He held you so tight, you almost couldn't breathe but you loved every second of it. You were surprised by his length teasing your oversensitive entrance, “I’ve never recovered this fast in my life.” he growled in your ear. “Can I?” he asked for your consent, gently kissing your temple.

“Yes please! Give it to me, baby. Fuck me!”

That was all he needed. He didn’t need his hand to slide inside of you again. In one thrust, he bottomed out and cursed. “You were made for me,” he said, huskily, before kissing you, all teeth and tongue.

As he thrusted hard and deep inside your pussy, you grabbed his ass and squeezed. He chuckled against your mouth and quickened his pace. He fucked you relentlessly again but this time, he took his time. There was less urge, he was thinking about your pleasure too.

He finally let go of your neck, and got on his knees, lifting your hips a little. Your ass was resting on his thighs as he kept thrusting. That angle drove both of you crazy. While one of his hands was holding your hips hard, he furiously rubbed your clit with the other. He could feel you're losing it. “I’m gonna cum, baby,” you told him. “Fuck, you feel so good!” you cried his name again, coming and creaming on his cock.

“God, I’ll never get used to that sight,” Seeing you losing it under his touch sent him over the edge. He managed to withdraw just in time to come on your stomach, he didn’t even have to give himself a few final strokes.

He collapsed on top of you again, not caring about the sticky mess between your bodies. “You’ll be the death of me, Y/N,” he said and you chuckled.

“I love you, Joel. There’s no better than you,”

[from-the-dark-past]

Interview with Anders Ohlin in The Black Metal Murders: English translation

Translator’s note: Black metal-morden (English: The Black Metal Murders) is a radio documentary from 2017 produced by Radio Sweden (download). It’s about Mayhem and the Norwegian black metal scene in the ‘90s and contains interviews with Jørn “Necrobutcher” Stubberud, Kjetil Manheim, Eirik “Messiah” Norheim and Anders Ohlin (Pelle Ohlin’s younger brother). 

Here, I’ve translated the parts where Anders Ohlin speaks into English (from Swedish). I’ve added time-stamps and short descriptions for the different sections of the interview. 

I am working on translating the interviews with Necrobutcher, Manheim and Messiah and will post them soon. 

1:51 - 6:35 [Talking about him and Pelle getting into extreme metal]

Anders: We’d started listening to hard rock and it was… We’d, like, worked through all of those… Judas Priest and Iron Maiden. 

Narrator: It’s the mid-1980s in Västerhaninge, a suburb of Stockholm. Pelle Ohlin lives here. He plays in the extreme metal band Morbid and his stage name is Dead. Pelle has introduced his five-years-younger brother to hard rock. Together, they’ve worked through all of the main bands. 

Anders: And you, like, hungered for this… This Other. 

Narrator: The ‘Other’ that younger brother Anders is talking about is extreme metal; music that is faster, darker and harder. A progression of hard rock. Music that isn’t easy to get your hands on at this time. Anders is in his early teens and has gotten his first girlfriend. 

Anders: It was my first relationship and it was super-exciting, and I was at her house, she lived in Jordbro, which is, like, the neighbouring suburb. 

Narrator: Anders’ girlfriend’s older sister has an LP that Anders simply must show his older brother Pelle. 

Anders: It was, like, you knew it was good music, and it was that Destruction record. 

Narrator: Anders sees the German death metal band Destruction’s cover and it’s enough for him to understand that this must be good music. [...] 

Anders: This. This here isn’t Judas Priest and it isn’t Iron Maiden; it’s something else. I’ve got show this fucking record to Pelle. 

Narrator: Anders nags [his girlfriend’s older sister] to borrow the LP. He’s allowed to, but only for the day, so he bikes home in the rain from Jordbro to Västerhaninge as quickly as he can. 

Anders: And it was like [excited noise], like a cartoon; the evil wolf, their eyes bulge out and we both ran -- because we hadn’t heard the LP, only seen the cover -- ran to the record player och then Mom walks up and is like: ‘Stop! You’re forbidden from using the gramophone.’ And it was like, fucking hell, is it going to die here and then we explained to Mom -- ‘This is an extreme record and we’ve borrowed it for the day and it’s going back tomorrow,’ -- and Mom was super-harsh and was like: ‘It doesn’t matter. [...]’ And then we started negotiating and agreed that we could record the LP onto cassette [because you don’t need volume for that]. So, it was on full-blast the entire night and we recorded it and stood bent over the record scratches and were like,‘Shit, this is good stuff’. 

Narrator: Pelles hard rock style stands out against the usual sweatpant-Bagheera-jacket [style], not least the music. 

Anders: The ideals that existed at that time were that you were supposed to look like Arnold Schwarzenegger, which neither he nor I did [laughs]. You were supposed to be handsome and cool and have some fucking helipad on your head. 

Translator’s note: Anders is talking about a flat-top haircut commonly referred to as a ‘helikopterplattafrisyr’ -- helipad haircut -- in Sweden. Think H.R. Haldeman. I’m not sure what the English term for this haircut is. 

Narrator: Anders and Pelle are apart of a small subculture; extreme metal, with subgenres such as trash metal, death metal and black metal, which provokes with its satanic and morbid symbols. Pelle’s band Morbid pushes the limits of what music can sound like. With his stage-name Dead, Pelle sings on the demo December Moon. The new subculture is not embraced by the adult world. 

Anders: Like, we faced this fucking cultural oppression as hardrockers. It was that time-period… And especially if you wanted to do something that was worse than hard rock; it was completely judged. 

14:52 - 15:53 [Talking about Pelle being bullied] 

Anders: He was beaten at school and to such an extent that he actually died for a while, or however you put it. 

Narrator: There’s an explanation to Pelle’s obsession with death. At 13, he was bullied at school and once, he was beaten so badly that his spleen burst. Pelle’s brother Anders Ohlin tells the story.

Anders: He was beaten to death and had some near-death experience as he was laying in the hospital and he kept coming back to that all the time, and I think you can see that as some sort of theme in his songs too. Like, it’s always about the fact that he was actually there and touched something that he doesn’t know what it is, and that was the engine in all that. He was definitely [at the bottom of the pecking order] at school, precisely because he was a bit… He had his special... his special style and was, like, uncompromising, and that was what singled him out, I’d say, markedly from other teenagers. 

18:07 - 18:30 [Talking about Pelle’s depression]

Anders: He would neglect to eat, just to get a cassette tape out or arrange a gig somewhere. 

Narrator: Anders Ohlin, Pelle’s brother. 

Anders: To be a bit harsh, I think that the others gave up at some point. And that’s my personal interpretation. That he suddenly turns around and notices that he hasn’t got the gang with him. And I think that destroyed him. 

21:50 - 22:30 [Talking about Pelle’s suicide] 

Anders: At first, I was actually really pissed at him… Or, like, angry, enraged. I thought that he’d abandoned us -- which he has. That it was so shitty of him; to just take off and leave this big fucking abscess to the rest of us that just kept growing and growing as the years passed. 

Narrator: Christmases become especially painful for the Ohlin family, because that was the time Pelle usually came home. 

Anders: No one felt good on Christmas Eve. It was like a fucking ghost all Christmas. Brutal. So, I remember that I couldn’t celebrate Christmas at all for a very long time. 

1:06:39 - 1:09:31 [Talking about how he and Pelle’s Swedish friends remember him and his life today]

Anders: All of his Swedish friends see him as this exuberantly happy guy that spews ideas and is funny and has a sense of humor and stuff. Then, it’s like a line is drawn when he goes to Norway and they see him as introverted and mysterious and, like, difficult. And that’s two opposite images. 

Narrator: The Pelle Myth is associated with a lot of darkness and death but that’s not how his brother Anders and Pelle’s Swedish friends remember him.  

Anders: I think that’s been the devastating part, but it, like, helped him build… strengthen that myth. It’s hard being that funny dude and saying that you’re, like, Satan. It’s hard, it becomes, like, silly. 

Narrator: Anders is often reminded of Pelle. Usually because of happy memories but also because of that image that he is fighting to remove; the image that Øystein took of Pelle’s corpse which spread because it became the album cover of a Mayhem bootleg, Dawn of the Black Hearts. The image lives its own life on the internet. 

Anders: It’s difficult. It’s very difficult. 

Narrator: Pelle’s fans often want to become Facebook friends with Anders; he receives 3-5 friend requests per day. Sometimes, the people sending the friend requests have themselves shared the image on their social channels. 

Anders: You say you want to be my friend yet you have an image of my brother from when he’s just killed himself and like… body parts all over the wall. Would you think it was okay if I had an image of your brother like that? ‘What,’ they excuse themselves. ‘Oh, fuck, I’d forgotten that I had that image, that’s… Of course, I’ll remove it and I’m ashamed.’ 

Narrator: When Anders asks people to remove the image, most do. 

Anders: I’m terrified for when my children will start to Google those images… Øystein’s parents inherited the rights after Øystein died and [Øystein’s dad] has destroyed the images and I’ve received the rights, gotten to take over the rights from Øystein’s dad, so if anyone uses them in any form is printed media, I can sue the shit out of them. 

Narrator: It’s a small comfort every time one of Pelle’s fans tells Anders how much Pelle means. 

Anders: Most often, they have some story. They tell me how they’ve had a tough period in life and how they’ve, like, really been at a crossroads or something and feel that they received guidance from Pelle’s music. That warms -- That makes you happy. That really warms your heart. 

Narrator: Pelle’s grave is well-visited and every now and then, there’s a handwritten letter or a box of snus by it. 

[cower-before-power]

Lovers in D Minor

Summary: Gojo requests you play his favourite song. You can’t deny him anything.

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Reader

TW: Swearing, implied sexual content

Link to A03 here

A/N: I’m back with another fic starring everyone’s favourite sensei! Thank you to all who read, liked, and reblogged my first fic, you are amazing and it has given me the confidence to write more! Please excuse the shitty title, I was thinking of Beethoven’s 9th Symphony while writing. Please enjoy, sweet potatoes!

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“Play.”

His voice is soft, quiet, and yet the one word resonates with an unyielding command. You run your hands over the keys in front of you gently.

You have no desire to deny him. You never do. Your trust in him has been built up like an iron fortress; unbreakable, unyielding. You know he will never demand that which you are unwilling to give.

Many worship the Honoured One, but it is only you he will bestow his unwavering favour upon.

“What would you like to hear?”

A lone finger runs down your spine, tracing the knobs with a feather light touch. Such contrast to the rough and demanding hands that were on you not an hour earlier.

But that was your Gojo Satoru.

“My favourite, I think.” His finger reverses, then slips lazily down again. Back and forth, back and forth. Your nerves cry out; it’s not enough. Not tonight.

“I should have guessed,” you say, leaning back into his touch. His finger stops at the base of your spine and spreads out into his whole hand. It’s a lazy warmth, like slipping into a hot bath at the end of a long day.

It feels like home.

He laughs softly. “Am I becoming that predictable, sugar plum?”

“Never,” you grin, turning to look at him beside you. He’s pretty in a way that should be illegal, white hair and blue eyes and sharp features that would make angels wail in despair. Perhaps he is an angel, you muse. An angel fallen from grace, doomed to a fate of exorcising the world’s demons. Darkness wrapped in a sheen of glittering light, terrifying in his ethereal beauty.

The celestial being in question cups your neck with steel fingers and drags your face up to his. Your eyes flutter closed as his lips cover yours, smooth and saccharine.

You could write poetry about his mouth.

“Are you going to distract me the whole time?” You mumble between kisses, your arms already reaching up to snake around his neck.

“Probably,” his tongue lolls out to run along your bottom lip, slowly, teasingly. A kiss to the corner of your mouth, then your chin, then down, down, down the column of your throat.

“Sa-to-ru,” you drag out his name in a reedy whine as his grip on the back of your neck tightens. He hums in pleasure; if he has but one weakness, it’s the sound of his true name cascading off your lips.

“Again,” he sighs dreamily. Teeth scrape the hollow of your throat. Your skin suddenly feels too tight, too small.

“Satoru,” you whisper, and the rumbling purr from his chest has you trying to claw your way into his lap.

You wonder why it comes like this, some days. The desire. The need. Other days are normal, when the touch of his skin brings pleasant comfort and warm affection. Everyday feelings. But days like this, nights like this, it’s different. Nothing is quiet or gentle. Every brush of fingers burns, every press of lips stirs a beastly hunger that roils in your gut until you’re practically foaming at the mouth. To touch him. To taste him. To be lost in the myriad of feelings he plucks from the depths of you.

To slake the ravenous craving to devour and be devoured in return.

Your move into his lap is suddenly halted. You open your eyes to meet his sapphire ones, brimming with hazy lust and tender amusement. He slowly peels away from you, gently setting you back down on the bench beside him.

“You said you’d play.”

You huff. You’ll never understand how the damn bastard can turn it off and on like that.

He senses your mood, a Cheshire Cat grin spreading across his face.

“Greedy thing,” he murmurs, tapping your nose gently. “Don’t worry sugar plum, I’ll reward you when you’re finished.”

“You better,” you grumble, reaching for the binder of sheet music you keep beside the piano. You begin to flip through, your eyes watching for the piece you’re looking for.

“Still can’t believe you wrote me a love song,” he teases, letting his white head fall gently against yours. His arms wind naturally around your waist; he feels it too. The need to be close, to touch, to ground and anchor.

He’s just as starving for it as you are.

“I’m beginning to wish I never did,” you find what you’re looking for and spread it out on the stand. “Your already overinflated ego did not need to be fed.”

He nuzzles into your hair. “Silly, you’d write me a thousand love songs if you had the time. You’re obsessed with me.”

“Says the man who hasn’t let me out of his sight-or arms for that matter- all day.”

He squeezes you once, laughing. “Touché. It’s true I’ve fallen under whatever bewitching spell you’ve cast on me.” His lips press against your scalp. “And I couldn’t give a flying fuck about trying to get away.”

You roll your eyes, but you’re grinning. “Well, duh. I’m quite the catch. Now shut up and let me play.”

He laughs again and falls silent. Your fingers stretch one, twice. And then you begin to play.

Sometimes trying to describe your love for him is difficult with mere words. There just weren’t enough of them capable of conveying the emotions he invokes in you. That’s why you took to your passion, your talent. What you couldn’t say in words, you’d say in song. In sweeping movements, lilting notes, heartfelt melodies. Your hands conveying what your heart cries out.

He hums along, the tune committed to memory. It’s no surprise; how many times has he asked you to play it? Too numerous to count.

He knows the way you share your love, your devotion to him. He knows words often stick themselves in your throat. But through the tinkling of keys he could feel what you were trying to say.

It’s what he says when he buys you too expensive presents, or kisses your forehead softly between classes, or drags you out of bed at one am to eat candy in your underwear.

I’m here, and I love you.

You finish with a flourish, the last notes hanging in the air like early morning mist. Quiet falls over the room. It’s just you and him and the heartbeats between you, softly thumping in time.

It’s perfect.

But......

“Satoru?”

“Yes?”

“.....my clothes won’t take themselves off.”

He snorts with laughter, and the soft romance of the moment disappears.

“Someone is neeeeeedy,” he sings, pinching your side. “You just can’t get enough of me, can you?”

You squirm away from his questing fingers but he holds you in place. “Don’t be mean! I always give you what you want, now give me what I want.” Your lips turn down into a pout.

He coos at you, leaning down to rub his nose playfully against yours. “Sugar plum, you know you’ve got me wrapped around those talented little fingers of yours. Have I ever denied you?”

He kisses you one, twice, three times- lazy, indulgent things that leave you whimpering as you cling to him.

“Please, Satoru.” You’ll beg. You’ll beg a hundred times over and you won’t feel any shame. There is no shame in wanting to be loved, to be treasured and cherished and worshipped the way you know he can.

He drags his lips over your jaw, chuckling darkly. “You want me to play you like you play that damn piano?” His teeth catch on your earlobe, tugging gently. “See what sweet music I can coax from you?”

“Yes,” you breathe, winding your fingers through his soft white hair. “Yes, yes, yes.”

He pulls back to grin at you, canines sharp and gleaming in the dim light.

“Then buckle up, sugar plum. Tonight, I’m writing a whole fucking symphony.”

[thefallenbibliophilequote]

I Carry Your Heart With Me

Bucky x Reader

Summary: Valentine's Day can be hard, but not only for singles.

Word count: 2,262

Warnings: implied smut, mainly fluff, some angst.

A/N: this is my Hoelentine gift to @fandomoneshots-imagines I really hope you'll like it, have a happy Hoelentine!!! @amythedvdhoarder  @chrissquares @drabblewithfrannybarnes

A/N2: And yes, the poem by E. E. Cummings inspired this and I have to say that I got emotional writing this. The idea that inspired this fanfic though, was the song by Taylor Cruel Summer. As always let me know via ask if you want to be added to the taglist! be warned that this is not betad and errors are probably hanging out throughout this story, i take full responsibiblity!

No one is allowed to repost my writing or steal or copy my work! Reblog on tumblr is fine.

Masterlist

--

 "I don't think it'll fit." Natasha tilted her head, trying to picture Tony's sketches coming to life in the ball room.

"Of course it will!" you heard the two of them coming into the common room.

"Hear ye, hear ye! I am happy to announce that next week we will be hosting a Valentine's Day party!" at the few groans in the room he continued. "No you can't skip it, and yes you will have to get dressed up nicely."

"What if we accidently get hurt on a mission and have to miss it?" Sam quipped at Tony who was not amused.

"Girls love heroes, so if you somehow end up in that situation clean yourself up and get to the party."

"You can't just force everyone here to go to a party, what if I want to stay in?" you raised your eyebrow at Tony, you liked the plans that you had for valentines and you were kind of looking forward to it actually. You weren't the only one.

"Want to bet on it?" He joked but you knew for him it was an actual challenge. "Besides, what are you going to do instead?"

"Nothing, maybe I will watch a shitty valentines movie?" You hoped he will let this go, a shitty movie was not in your schedule but he didn't have to know that. No one did.

"You need to get laid on Valentines." He shook his head.

"We could set you up! Come on, I'll make sure he'll be a good one." Natasha was smirking at your horrified look. You shook your head before the words could come out of your mouth.

"She doesn't need to be set up with, leave her alone. If she doesn't want to go to the stupid party then she shouldn't have to." Bucky called from where he was sitting opposite you on the other sofa. You met his eye for a moment before you both looked away from each other.

"Don't be so grumpy, Frosty! Maybe we should set you up too, then you won't call my party stupid."

"All I need is peace and quiet, which is why I won't be attending the party Tony." Bucky dismissed it, shifting in his seat. You could feel his unease at the subject.

"Don't worry, I'll find you a good one. Nat and I are the best at that." Sam winked at Bucky and put his arm around Natasha who wore a smirk matching his.

"Leave him alone too. Wow the two of you are disgusting." You got up from the chair, taking the tea from the table. "Now if you'll excuse me I'll go to my room and I am going to stay there because no one is setting me up."

With a stern look at Natasha you turned and walked to your room, leaving the door unlocked.

 Trying to stifle a laugh you reached for the lamp on your nightstand and as it lit up a beautiful face of a certain supersoldier hanged mere inches from your face. Now that you could see his smile, you leaned forward to capture his lips causing him to moan.

"What took you so long?" he got into bed beside you.

"Sorry doll, I was chased around a little, had to disappear. I can't believe they want to set me up with some girl." He pulled you closer to him, chest to chest. "I don't need some gal, I already have the best gal right here with me."

"What a sap." You laughed it off, but your cheeks felt hot and you knew that he could tell. You let yourself sink into those brilliant blue eyes of his, sighing in content at finally letting the mask fall off and being able to spend time alone with your boyfriend.

"What if we told them?"

"What? Doll we can't tell them." He pouted at you. You wanted for a while now to let everyone know that you're dating but Bucky never wanted that, he insisted that it'll stay a secret.

"Bucky come on, we are almost a year together now and I don't want to spend our anniversary apart from you and at a stupid party with someone else." You leaned up a bit to look at him properly.

"But we talked about this. I want to keep this amazing thing that we have just for us, for now at least." He tried to take your chin but you pushed his hand away.

"But for how long Bucky? I don't want to keep secrets just to keep you! It's hard not being able to kiss you, hold you whenever we are anywhere public outside of our rooms. Sneaking into your bed and you sneaking into mind… it's a bit tiring." You admitted.

"I don't know for how long, but we will figure this out. It could be dangerous if people knew and- doll, I want to keep this safe. This is so private and I've never had something like this before."

You understood where he was coming from, it still tugged on your heart but you only nodded to him. Lying back down next to him, he reached over you for the lamp with a smirk on his face and he kissed you as the light went out.

 It's been a long agonizing week and you barely got to see Bucky with his sudden mission and the planning for the big party Tony was throwing. And then the big day came.

It has been one year exactly. You opened your eyes that morning, not surprised to find your bed empty but you still wished he had stayed a little bit longer. You picked up the neatly folded note from the side of your bed, smiling when you realized what it was.

Doll,

Happy one year anniversary to us! You know I'm not good with words but I still want to try and explain to you what I feel. A year ago I shared my first kiss with a beautiful gal, and now a year later I woke up to having that special gal in my arms. I never thought that I'll be able to keep you mine for this long, and while I can't spend this special day with you I am looking forward to spending every other day with you.

I love you with all my heart Doll.

-your Bucky

 Bucky still is a sweet talker, and it had you smiling like a little girl and left you a blushing mess. He liked playing with you like that, and you couldn't help but love him more for it. It didn't come easy for him to express these raw emotions but with time you found a way through and you treasured every time you get to see him like no one else ever would. Kissing the letter and closing it, you got up from the bed and went to start your day. Maybe you'll get Bucky alone in the kitchen.

The minute you got to the living room, your friends kidnapped you and kept you hostage, showing you guys that they want to set you up with, they talked about your dress and shoes and whatever else you couldn't find yourself to care about when you haven't seen Bucky yet.

A spring of butterflies gathered in your stomach when Bucky was finally there, coming back from a run. He smiled his beautiful smile at you and pointed his head to the kitchen which he was heading towards.

After he entered you made a half-assed excuse and went to the kitchen. You were smiling when you saw him there, immediately going for a hug which for your sadness didn't last long when you saw Clint and Steve were there too, and Sam was just entering. Murmuring a greeting to everyone, you made yourself coffee next to where Bucky stood.

At this point you were experts in hiding a relationship from spies and soldiers. No trying to whisper to each other when Steve was around; being cautious about what you are doing when the archer is in the room; talking as friends next to people and being affectionate when you were alone in a room which was alright since Bucky will know if someone is coming. So you enjoyed talking to him a bit now until Sam took him away from you, telling him about the girl he found for him.

Bucky noticed when you exited the room right after without saying a word. He wished he could get his friends to stop pushing the topic.

 That was how the rest of the day went, and by the time the party started you still didn't get enough time with your boyfriend leaving you with this emptiness inside of you.

Natasha and Tony introduced you to the guy they set you up with, the guy they thought could compare to your Bucky but then again no one could compare to him.

He was nice enough, his name was Nick and he was a developer at Stark industries. Trying to keep the small talk found to be difficult especially when you spotted Bucky in the crowd being introduced to a stunning looking girl, and you couldn't help the jealousy that decided to take over your mind.

The night moved on and Bucky, being the 40s gentleman that he is, danced with the lady while you could barely focus. You wanted nothing more than to throw her into the farthest wall away from Bucky.

So settling for lightly turning Nick down, you went from him straight to the bar hoping a drink or two will help. Worst anniversary ever.

In the middle of the dance floor Bucky struggled to stay far enough from the girl in front of him without offending her and making a scene. But the girl tried getting closer to him, and there were so many people around him he didn't have anywhere to go, then he saw you sitting alone at the bar crestfallen.

Seeing his girl so sad, that did it for him. He went away from the girl and knew exactly what he was doing as he walked towards the band that was playing with a look he knew belonged to the winter soldier, it did the job as the people scrambled to get out of his way until he got up on the stand and sent the singer away, pulling the microphone out of its stand.

With one breath in he started speaking.

"Everyone I need your attention, please. Cut the music." At the sharp tone of his voice all of the music stopped and the only thing heard in the big room were the whispers in the crowd. There were more people there looking at him now than he realized, but he wouldn't let himself back down now, it was too important for him. Looking out he caught you looking at him and smiled.

"Now, there's a beautiful girl here in this room tonight and she means everything to me but I was too goddamn scared of what will happen if I admitted what I am admitting right now." He never let his eyes wander from yours. "Y/N Y/L/N I love you more than anything in this world and it's been a year since I got over my fear and finally kissed you and now, now I want the whole world to know that I'm the luckiest guy in the world to be able to call you mine. I never let myself hope, aspire, or dream that I could one day find everything I wanted in a person but then I met you and you wrecked any plan I had to stray away from love.

You're my everything, my Doll," Bucky got down from the stage and walked to you until he stood in front of you and could see the emotional unshed tears your eyes held when you got out of the chair to stand in front of him. "I'm sorry it took me this long, and believe me when I say that I wanted to show you off as mine to anyone who dared to look at you, but I was scared and now it doesn't matter."

When a tear spilled out he wiped it from your cheeks and a smile spread on your face at his touch.

"I LOVE YOU." He shouted into the microphone even when his entire world now just consisted of you and only you. He repeated it again in a whisper just for good measure. "I love you and I need you to know that you're the only one for me Doll because you've got my heart in the palm of your hand and no matter how many times I'll say it it'll still not be enough to explain my feelings towards you. I love you Y/N, and I will love you until I die, and if there's life after that I'll love you then."

Not waiting anymore you threw the microphone to the side, not caring about the noise it made when you crushed your lips into Bucky's. You felt him grin into the kiss as he wrapped his arms around you tightly.

After the quiet there were cheers in the background but you could barely hear them over the pound of your two hearts, synchronized perfectly with each other.

"Your heart is safe with me, I'll carry it with mine." It was a promise between two lovers, a secret of just the two of them, and Bucky knew he had nothing to fear when he had her.

Tags: @callmeluna @sstanbarnes  @buckys-other-punk @drabblewithfrannybarnes  @easygoingtheatre  @that-one-person  @justab-eautifulmess @onceupona-happilyeverafter  @wipplogg  @supraveng  @bucky-the-thigh-slayer  @ayybtch @kitkatd7  

[twerkinwithhazza]

Pumpkin Seeds

Author’s Note: UH OHHH BACK AGAIN. I’m back yall finally off hiatus all because my phone is broken LOL. Anywho tumblr is a totally different place and most of my mutuals are adulting now. I would love new tumblr friends and I’m gonna try to continue this writing stuff but I’m busy with adult things now lol and it really depends on if you guys like what you see. Please excuse my rustiness this my first imagine in years... literally. I’ll get better with time. This was also slightly edited but I know there bound to be some mistakes. Anyways watch the Golden music video for clear skin and I hope you guys enjoy!  I think it's so adorable that whoever requested this thought this request wouldn't speak to me lol ! It definitely did because this went from a blurb to a full blown imagine.

psst you can read my other work here!

Warnings: smut smut smut and more smut and possible shitty writing, dirty talk, light choking, and some cursing.

Glossary: (y/c/n)= your cousins name + (y/m/n)= your mothers name

Request: hi!!!! if you are wrtiting for Harry please can you do one where missus and Harry are at a family party and have a quickie in the bathroom? don’t worry if it’s not speaking to you lol xxx

Normally you and your husband loved spending time with your families. Harry was always playing a balancing act between filming music videos, doing interviews, writing sessions, and an occasional date night in the house that always involved a Postmates order from your favorite restaurants and the two of you binge-watching Netflix on shuffle. As much as the both of you enjoyed stuffing your face with poke bowls from Poke Papa and watching True Crime stories, it wasn’t exactly romantic or fulfilling for the both of you, just enough to hold you over until his schedule clears up. So when Harry finally got a weekend off, you guys were ecstatic! You spent the week cleaning the house and meal prepping so no Postmates would be needed and Harry used his free time in between interviews for shopping for special toys and pretty lingerie he wanted to see you model for him. Flirty text messages were sent back and forth during small work breaks about your plans for the weekend and now all the two of you had to do was make it Saturday.

You’re not gonna like this...

The 5 words that destroyed you and Harry’s weekend plans. Anne called while you were organizing your closet and announced that her and Gemma, along with your parents and favorite cousins were coming to town to spend time with the two of you. You tried to convince her that maybe a small dinner party at that new fancy restaurant downtown would be a perfect spot for a get together but she was adamant about coming over to cook the two of you a homecooked meal. Breaking the news to Harry was the worst part, he was clearly devastated (you swore you saw the man shed a few tears). Now here you were stuffing your mouth with Anne’s famous juicy cooked duck instead of your husband's juicy di...

“(Y/N) can you pass me the mashed potatoes”

Your dad’s strong yet muffled voice interrupted your train of thought and broke you out of your horny trance as he chowed down on his meal. Pushing the dish over in your dad's direction allowed you the chance to look around and take a glance at Harry who was making small talk with one of your favorite cousins. He was wearing a black button-down shirt, of course with a few buttons loose, and his cross necklace bounced on his chest as he laughed at your cousin's crazy work stories. You focused on his fingers, his infamous rings adorned his hands, you noted that they were slightly damp from eating and the condensation on his glass cup. As you were drinking in his appearance a small damp spot was forming in your panties but given that there were too many eyewitnesses including, yours and his parents so you chose to just clamp your thighs shut and stuff your mouth with more mashed potatoes. 

Harry deserved his credit as a husband. Despite his calm demeanor, he was very well aware of your little ordeal yet still managed to give interview advice to (y/c/n) and compliment your mom’s cocktail mix. He was quite amused by how increasingly frustrated you were becoming. He noted your concentrated face as you munched harshly on a string bean, hands clenching onto the fork for dear life. He decided to do a little temperature check to truly see how far gone you were.

“So what are we thinking for dessert pecan pie or crumble cake ?”, Harry questioned as he stuck his fork in his mouth, pulling it out again once all the gravy was licked clean. Your eyes finally met and you can tell that he was tossing the ball in your court, it was your job to show him how you wanted the game to be played.

“Mmm I don’t know I guess I’ll have some pecan pie but I really wish I had some pumpkin seeds”, you flatly said as you finished sipping your wine, maintaining full eye contact with him.

Pumpkin seeds. You and Harry were “outside of the box” thinkers, you had to be with his life as a celebrity not exactly pairing well with your shared sexual fantasies. You had code words to indicate to each other when you were craving the other one's touch, but you knew that using the same words around friends, family, and other public figures for too long would possibly cause some suspicion. So your code words changed with the seasons, literally. When the leaves started turning that classic golden yellow and auburn, your code words changed thus came the use of the word Pumpkin Seeds.

Gemma and your mom shared a glance, raising their eyebrows in collective confusion.

“Pumpkin seeds.. For dessert ?” Gemma finally burst out., both of your mothers soft laughter followed in the background.

“Heyyy” ,Harry pouted as he bopped Gemma on the nose with some gravy ,“ I have you know Pumpkin Seeds are one of our favorite midnight snacks”. 

“Gross“, Gemma stuck out her tongue and wiped her nose. You couldn't tell whether she was referring to the gravy on her nose, your choice of midnight snacks, Harry’s smug statement followed by a wink at you, or a combination of all three.

“Well we can be concerned with dessert once we break out the baby pictures, I’ve been dying to see the infamous skinny dipping picture (y/m/n) has been telling me about”. Anne clapped her hands together and hopped out of her seat heading to the kitchen. Your mother followed behind but not before instructing you to head up to the attic to retrieve the pictures. You glanced at Harry but he seemed occupied cleaning up the dinner plates with your dad. You let out a frustrated huff and made your way up to the attic to grab the photo albums. 

As you shuffled through old boxes holding Harry’s old tour outfits and your little knickknacks from your travels, you heard the attic door open.

“Pumpkin seeds huh?”, Harry lightly chuckled letting the attic door close and leaning against the door frame. 

You refused to make eye contact with him, continuing to shuffle through the bins locating a few photo albums as you went , “It was only a matter of time Harry and you know it. Our weekend got stolen and we haven’t... ya know in like two weeks. So, yes Harry I want some damn pumpkin seeds.”

You let out a huff. You didn’t mean to come off so sassy and aggressive but you were frustrated… sexually. Your cousin was getting more Harry time in the 3 hour family dinner than you had gotten in the past two weeks. You stacked the photo albums gently on top of each other and cradled them in your arms, finally turning to face your husband but you didn't have to look very far. Harry had closed that gap between the two of you, gripping your face and making you look up at him causing you to drop the albums in shock. 

“Well let’s get you your pumpkin seeds then”

That’s all it took and sparks turned into a flame, you and Harry’s bodies connected and a feverish makeout session broke out. You both were so hungry for each other after weeks of neglects and it just felt so damn good to finally connect. Harry’s wet kisses were making their way down your neck, nipping and sucking as he goes. You knew he was getting into it and normally you would be completely here for it if your kitchen wasn’t flooded with family members waiting to laugh at your baby pictures.

“Baby.. we… fuckkkkk”, You moaned out as Harry popped one of your nipples out of his mouth before moving to nip on the next one. “Baby we can’t your mom is downstairs… we have to go”, you finally let out and glanced down at your husband as pinched your nipples between his finger tips. “When has that ever stopped us”, he slyly laughs. In one swift motion, he turned you around pulling your back into his chest pulling down your skirt. You couldn’t even get words of protest out, Harry had his hands wrapped around your neck and was already freeing himself from his pants and boxers. He pulled your panties to the side and let out a hiss as he watched a string of your arousal stretch from your dripping flower to his fingers.

“Baby please just do something”, you huffed out a soft moan as you waited in anticipation. The grip around your throat tightened as he entered you, both of you letting out a sigh of relief. Harry completely bottomed out inside of you, touching that special spot that only he could. Your walls clenched around him, holding him in snug almost as if your pussy was begging him not to leave. Normally the two you were very vocal during sex from dirty talk to his loud moans and your even louder cries of pleasure. However you both knew that wasn’t possible right now and kept your moans down as much as you could. Harry was not making it easy though and the noise coming from the two of your bodies colliding were basty in the best ways possible. With every thrust of Harry’s hip you could hear your wetness coating Harry dick and as Harry picked up the speed his balls roughly tapped on your clit, only adding to your pleasure. You could barely form thoughts let alone sentence, Harry was literally fucking you silly and using your G-Spot as punching bag for his dick, The sounds and the pleasure were clearly getting to Harry as well, the grip he had on your hips grew tighter and his eyes were squeezed shut. 

“Bloody fucking hell you’re so tight around me, can’t even take it”, he groans and throws his head back as he roughly draws your hips into his. It didn’t even feel like it was possible but Harry picked up the speed of his thrust continuing the assault on your poor needy pussy even further. The pleasure was all too much and that oh so familiar feeling hit the pit of your stomach and you were starting to lose your composure. Your moans were getting increasingly louder and your grip on Harry was growing tighter. Harry knew his wife and he knew your dam was getting closer and closer to breaking and he was determined to get you there. He placed a hand over your mouth and moved his other hands down to your clit rubbing it in slow circles. “ Look at you” he cooed cockily, “Taking me so fucking well like a good girl should. Barely let out a scream ‘cus you don’t want your parents to hear how much of a cock whore you are”. He knew you wouldn’t last long with the way he was talking to you and he was absolutely correct because his words were driving you insane. As the pressure was continued building up in your stomach, you felt the telling twitch in Harry’s dick that let you know he was approaching his end too.

“Gonna give me what I want uh? Gonna cum all over my cock and let me cum in that tight little pussy of yours. You gotta hold it in.. don’t want to leave any drops for our guest to find huh? Gonna be a good girl and hold all my cum in you?”, Harry grunted into your ear as you whimpered against his hands. You were seeing stars and feeling butterflies in the pit of your stomach and you knew it was only a matter of time before you both came undone.” Oh baby”, you whined and your head fell down as the pressure from your stomach finally was released as your orgasm spilled out all over Harry’s dick and thighs. The gushing feeling from your orgasm and your weak whimpers and cries drove Harry overboard, burying his face in your neck and his roughly groaning as he released inside of you. The two of you stayed connected for a bit, thighs stuck together thanks to your shared orgasm with Harry’s arm wrapped around your waist supporting both of your weights up as you composed yourselves. When he finally pulled out of you, you kept every drop he gave you tucked inside your tight walls just as promised. 

“So those Pumpkin Seeds huh”