#i’m working real hard to fit in the people i want to see before i go

[1ovestay]

oh man i am running out of time!!!!!!!

[noisynaia]

𝑺𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑰𝑺 𝑪𝑨𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮

summary: The good old 'oh no, there's only one bed' trope.

pairing: Joel Miller x afab!reader 

word count: 3.8k 

note: Explicit (18+). Vaginal fingering, unprotected P in V, creampie. No use of (y/n). Nightmares. This has not been beta nor proof read and English is not my native language.

“Can you cut it out?” You sigh at the man who is currently and stubbornly laying on the hard floor next to the bed.    

It had been raining heavily for the entire day, the downpour so heavy that you couldn’t see more than a foot or two in front of you. All three of you were soaked to the bone and freezing. Spirit had been very low in your little travel group. Ellie had not come with her usual jokes and Joel had been even grumpier than usual so stumbling upon the little cabin had been a real stroke of luck. There had even been a dresser with enough dry clothes for all three of you to change into. 

You had given Ellie the couch in the living room since that was with the fireplace, leaving the single bedroom for you and Joel. 

“Just get up here. There’s plenty of space for the both of us.” You continue, cursing him and his damn stubbornness. The bed is not huge, but it will fit two people finely. 

“I’m fine down here. Trust me, I’ve had worse.” He just grumbles.  

You sigh, peeking your head over the edge of the mattress to look down at him. “I know you have a bad back and I need you to be well rested and alert, okay.” He tilts his head to look at you. “We both do…” You add, using Ellie to guilt trip him is maybe a little low, but you know it’s going to work and it is not like what you’re saying isn’t true. 

“Fine.” He finally sighs, as he gets up from the dusty floor, his knees creaking slightly before laying down next to you, but he doesn't get under the cover, instead laying straight on his back on top of the comforter with his arms crossed over his chest and eyes staring straight up at the ceiling.        

You want to tell him to just relax and get under the covers, but you don’t want to push your luck, so you just settle for the small victory of getting him into the bed, and who knows as sad as it makes you, maybe he really finds sleeping next to you more uncomfortable than the floor. 

You try not to dwell on that possibility too much, ashamed of how much that would affect you, so you just get comfortable under the covers instead. Turning to lay on your side, facing away from him as you close your eyes, but sleep doesn’t come to you.    

“Can I ask you something?” You whisper into the silent room, somehow knowing that he hasn’t fallen asleep yet. 

“Sure.” 

“It will never get easier will it? Living in this world… I tell myself that it will, that it is going to hurt less with time but… I’m just kidding myself, aren’t I?”

He doesn’t answer for a long time and you start to think that he may have fallen asleep before he finally breaks the silence. “No, I don’t think it will ever get easier.” A short beat of silence before he continues. “But I guess we can hope.” 

You sigh at his words. You really do hope so. The two of you are quiet again and you think he might have fallen asleep when he finally speaks again.  

 “Thank you.” Joel whispers into the darkness.

“For what?” You turn your head slightly towards him.  

“For tolerating my bullshit I guess.” 

It is the last words exchanged between you before sleep finally creeps up on the both of you. 

—

You wake up only a few hours into the night by the feeling of Joel’s frantic movements. He is tossing and turning uneasily and uttering incomprehensible muttered words. You turn around to face him, barely capable of making him out in the darkness of the room.

“Joel” You whisper, propping yourself up on your elbow, making you hover over him slightly. 

You watch the distressed look on his face, his eyes shut tight and his brows furrowed. Whispers of some terror make it out of his mouth. Your hand is hovering over his arm, unsure if he would be okay with your touch. But his nightmare seemingly continues. You frown and gently place your hand over his arm, softly rubbing the spot with your thumb.

“Joel.” You speak softly. “Wake up.”

You can feel how his whole body is shaking. He finally opens his eyes, letting out a gasp. His eyes wide and unfocused, clearly terrified of whatever he’d dreamed about, before they lock with yours and his gaze relaxes a little. 

“I’m sorry.” He mutters, his rapid breathing is slowly coming under control. 

“Don’t apologize.” You frown at him, your eyes are now better accustomed to the darkness and you can see his face more clearly. “I get them too.” You confess dropping your head back on the pillow.

“Do you need anything?” You ask, feeling him move slightly on the mattress.

“No.” He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face.

Silence falls over you, the two of you just laying and listening to your own quiet heartbeats. 

“Why don’t you get under the covers?” You finally say, almost a little pleading.

And to your happy surprise he actually does. Joining you under the covers, even though he lays stiff as a board and way closer to the edge of the bed than he needs to. You can live with that, you are just happy that he at least can be a little more comfortable and warm. 

“Joel?”

“Yes?”

“You can talk to me, you know? If you ever need it”

A beat of silence. 

“Yeah… I know darling.” 

Darling. You think your heart skips a beat by the endearing name and you let out a sigh as you finally close your eyes again. “Goodnight Joel” 

“Goodnight.” 

—

You wake again in the early hours of the morning. It’s a slow ease into consciousness, a much gentler awakening than you normally get to have. Your eyes are still closed, and the only thing you currently perceive is the warm safe feeling of complete comfort, still half asleep, you haven’t registered what contributes to this feeling, how Joel is embracing you in his sleep. 

Comfortably wrapped in a blanket in a soft bed and feeling the heat of someone’s body against you is a luxury you haven't felt in a long time. The comforting feeling of soft human touch makes you melt into it, and crave it from the very marrow of your bones. You stir slightly, letting out a content sigh as you slowly get pulled out of your sleepy daze, and that is when you realize the position you are in.    

Your back is pressed up against Joel’s chest and his strong arm is wrapped around your waist. Your legs are entangled under the covers and his steady warm breath fans over the back of your neck. The two of you must have instinctively reached for each other in your sleep, the presence of a warm comforting body too irresistible, nuzzling you against himself in his sleep.

Your heart skips a beat at the gentle touch, feeling like you are going to cry from the overload of human touch. There is no way you’re gonna be able to part from his embrace without waking him, but maybe you should? Even though you really don’t want to. You feel slightly guilty as you lie and listen to his steady heartbeat

You want to be selfish for a little longer, savoring the warm comfort of Joel’s presence beside you, enjoying how it makes you feel. It feels too damn good after all the years of loneliness and fear. You can’t deny that you are feeling things for Joel. He is an attractive man, there is no doubt there, but there is more to it. The glimpses you have gotten of who he is behind the gruff facade, the man he must once have been, has made you yearn to get to know more of that side of him. The way he always makes sure you and Ellie are feeling safe. The way he over time has softened up a bit. How he sometimes will go along with Ellie’s shenanigans. How he will tell you that he will take the first night shift, but then never wake you so you get to sleep the whole night. You have scolded him for this numerous times, but he still does it whenever he senses that you are just a little more tired than usual. 

You try to ease out of his embrace without waking him, but it only results in him hugging you tighter, pressing you closer towards him as he lets out a dissatisfied grunt like his subconscious wants you close. And it is now, as you are being pressed tighter up against him that you feel it, the press of his hard cock against the curve of  your ass. You let out a little gasp, as a hot shiver travels from your abdomen down to your now throbbing cunt.

You know that it’s just a physical reaction to have a body this close, he didn’t even want to share the bed with you in the first place, but you had insisted on it. As much as you dread having to face him in this position, you really should wake him.   

“Joel.” You whisper, moving your hand over the arm he has around you, gently brushing your fingers over the warm skin, waiting for him to wake. He stirs a little against your touch, but he does not loosen his grip on you. You hold your breath, feeling your pulse throb in your ears as you wait for a reaction. You just hope this won’t make him go back to being as closed off with you as he was in the beginning. You take a deep breath to brace yourself before you turn around in his grip so the two of you are laying face to face. Your movement seems to finally have pulled him out of his sleep. His eyes start to blink slowly as he is pulled out of his slumber, he murmurs your name, voice rough and raspy from sleep and it makes your heart skip a beat. 

His eyes are finally opening to look into yours, the warm umber of his irises is so beautiful, you have never seen them this near. His face is so close. You can see every detail, every crease and he is so damn gorgeous. Your mouth is so close to his, it would be so easy to just lean in and connect your lips in a kiss. You feel Joel’s body stiffening as he realizes the position the two of you are in, and you are scared that he will bolt out of the bed and leave you cold and alone, but he doesn’t. The two of  you are simply laying in silence for a long moment, looking at each other in the dim room, both of you engulfed by the other, but you finally collect enough composure to break the silence between you.

“Good morning.” You whisper into the quiet bedroom. 

“Morning.” His voice is so deep and still rough from sleep. It makes your stomach do a flip. Maybe it is just wishful thinking but you swear that his eyes swift down to your lips for a second. Maybe it’s just time to be brave? You reach your hand up toward his cheek, letting your palm hover about half an inch from his skin. You want him to decide for himself if he is comfortable with your touch. Fortunately, after only a short moment of hesitation, he leans into your hand, exhaling as your palm cups his cheek. You kind of expect him to pull away any minute, but he doesn’t. 

“I haven’t slept this well in a long time.” You confess.  

“Me neither.” You have never heard his voice this soft before and that is when it dawns on you. This is Joel Miller. Not the man that has had to survive in a world with no hope, or the man that has lost everything that made him whole. Right now you are looking into the eyes of the man he once must have been. And maybe right now you’re the woman you were meant to be, the woman you would have been if your future hadn’t been torn away from you by the collapse of the world. There is something magnetic about it. Like the two of you are being pulled together by an invisible force, drawn together in the early morning bliss, both of you learning into earth other. Your lips brush, a ghost of a touch. He shivers but he is  still not pulling away. 

“Can I?” He whispers, his soft breath fanning over your lips. 

“Please.” You manage to croak out, your entire body buzzing with anticipation.  

It is all he needs to hear before he crashes into you, his chapped lips colliding with yours. It has been too long since you have felt the firm pressure of a man’s mouth on yours. You kiss until your lungs start to burn, and you have to pull away to catch your breath. His hand moves down to the hem of your shirt, his fingers ghosting over the warm skin beneath it.    

“Is this okay?” He asks, sounding a little unsure. 

“Yes, Joel.” You assure him. “Kiss me.” You add and he does, sliding his hand under the cotton of your shirt palming the soft skin of your side. You moan into his mouth as his tongue meets yours. You kiss until you no longer know where he starts and you end and you are almost convinced that the two of you have melded into one being.  

“You’re driving me crazy.” He pants out as he finally breaks the kiss. All you can manage is to whimper in response as he moves his lips to your throat, licking and kissing a trail to the side of your neck. His hand slowly slides down from your side to the hem of your pants. 

“Do you want me to stop?” He murmurs into the skin just below your ear, before sitting up just slightly to look into your eyes. 

“No.” You shake your head slightly. “Please don’t stop, Joel.” 

You roll your hips a little, grinding against his strong thigh, needing him to understand how badly you want this. Something flickers in his eyes and he lets out a filthy guttural groan, flipping you over so you're laying under him.    

Your entire body is aflame by his touch, a feral urge for more. More skin, more contact. So you move onto his shirt. The material slightly withered and moth-eaten from the years of being tucked away in a drawer. You pull it off him, revealing his broad upper body. You pause, captivated by the look of him hovering over you. The scars across his skin, the sparse hairs trailing down from his navel to his pants.    

You wonder if he shaking because he’s cold or if he’s really just that eager for your touch. But it doesn’t really matter, either way, you’ll warm him up.

He slides his calloused fingers over the sensitive skin of your thighs, hooking them in the waistband of your panties, looking into your eyes. You nod at him, mouthing a ‘please’, spreading your legs a bit further. It is all he needs, an expression of filthy desire flickers over his face as he pulls your underwear down. Letting out a gasp as your soaked pussy gets exposed in front of him. His fingers slide along the insides of your wet lips. 

“Shit, you’re so wet. All this just for me?” He almost coo.

“Yeah. All for you, Joel.” 

“Wanna feel you come on my fingers.”   

“Fuck, want that too.” You whimper.                

He gives you a smile, dipping his head down to your shoulder, nuzzling his nose against the crook of your neck before kissing the soft skin under your ear. He makes sure to coat his fingers in your wetness before he begins to tease your clit. You let out a little gasp as he starts to draw slow light circles, but it doesn’t take long for him to pick up his pace and add a bit of pressure.

He teases your entrance, making sure to coat his fingers in your slickless before he slips one of his thick fingers into you. Another is soon added and you sigh at the sensation. He slowly pumps into you at first, giving you time to adjust to his digits, but he is soon picking up the pace.  

“That’s right darling.” He mutters against your neck. “Taking my fingers so well.”

He is going fast now, using his middle and index finger to fuck you while the ruff pad of his thumb is pressing on your clit and you can’t help but let out a few pathetic whines. He is hitting a perfect spot, so deep inside of you, and you feel your orgasm approaching, finally falling over the edge when he curls his fingers. 

“That’s right, just like that.” Joel groans as you clench around his fingers, slowing his pace slightly but still  pumping you through your orgasm in a steady rhythm. “Just like that, darling, doing so well.”

He lets you ride out your climax on his fingers until he finally pulls out of you, popping them into his mouth, sucking off your juices with a pleasant moan.    

“Fuck, Joel.” You pant out as you finally come down from your amazing high. 

“Good?” He asks, a sly smile on his lips. 

“Really good.” You ensure him, cupping his cheek with a gentle hand. “Want to make you feel good too.” You whisper, looking deeply into his eyes.

“Fuck, darling. I want to feel you so bad.” He confesses.  

“Want that too. Fuck, want that so bad” You pant, letting your thumb slide over his cheek as you admire his handsome face. And you do want him, but more than that, you need him.

He lifts himself from you to strip off his pants and underwear. Your eyes widen at the view of him. His hard cock springs free, throbbing and thick, laying heavy in his palm as he takes himself in his hand. It still looks huge, even in his big hand, so you can’t even imagine how enormous it will look in your smaller one. He pumps himself a few times before leaning down over you again. He guides his cock to your entrance, looking at you for permission, which you give with an eager nod, before slowly pushing inside you, stretching your pussy to its limits the deeper he goes. You feel so full, like he is splitting you open with his thick girth. You whimper as you take more and more of his cock until he is all the way in. 

“Fuck darling, you’re so warm, so fucking tight around me.” He groans before leaving a firm kiss on your lips. The two of you are laying like this for a little while, letting you adjust to his size until you can’t take it anymore. 

“Move.” Your voice is low and rasped. “Please.”   

With that, he lifts your legs, making you cross them around his lower torso as he pulls out of you, achingly slow until only the head of his cock is still inside of you before inserting all of it again in one fluid motion. You let out a gasp of pleasure. 

He starts out with a slow rhythmical pace. He is giving you sweet praise at first, then progressively dirtier, more lustful comments as he loses himself more and more, his thrusts getting faster and more desperate. He lets out a throaty groan as your hands grab his hair. The way he is now pounding his cock into you, deep and purposefully, makes you cry out in pleasure, your ears filling with his growls and moans. 

“Feeling so so good…” He says his eyes clenched tightly shut as he keeps thrusting into you with a savage speed. “I knew you would feel good, but damn.” He groans through gritted teeth. Joel is now moving with an urgency that has you seeing stars and you let out a cry of pleasure. 

“Shhh.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss to your lips to quiet you.  Ellie is, unlike you and Joel, a deep sleeper, but you would both be mortified if she heard the two of you, not wanting to traumatize the poor girl. 

“You are taking me so well.” He encourages. “So fucking good.” 

Your arms are desperately clinging to his back. His balls are hitting your skin and his cock is pounding into your soaked pussy, making a filthy squelching noise hit your ears. 

The pressure is beginning to build up in your lower stomach, the feeling is making your head go dizzy. He is bringing you closer and closer with every strong thrust of his cock.

“I-fuck… I'm close.” You babble. 

The knot in your stomach tightens and tightens until it all explodes inside you. Your walls clench down around him, sucking him in. You desperately cling to him as your climax washes over you, hands on his neck as you guide his mouth down to yours, you need him to kiss you through this. Your breasts are being squeezed against his chest, the feeling of his skin against your sensitive nipples makes you moan into his mouth.  

You whine out as you feel the warmth of his release filling you up. 

“Shit, shit, shit.” He detaches from your mouth. The panic from cumming inside you is clear on his face. He pulls out, some of his load landing on your stomach, but most of it still inside of you, the sudden empty feeling makes you let out a little whine. 

“Shit, I am so sorry, I shouldn’t have—” 

You know that he is right, he really shouldn’t have done it, but you can’t get mad at him you had been just as caught up in the feeling of him as he had been in you. You finished your cycle only a couple of days ago so you should hopefully be okay. 

You cup his cheek, planting a soft kiss on his lips. “I think we should be okay, just don’t make a habit of it.” You grin at him. 

He visibly relaxes at your words “I’ll make sure to pull out next time.” He assures you and your stomach flutters. Next time. You smile at his words.   

“How do you feel?” He asks. 

“Good.” You laugh lightly, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I liked seeing this side of you.”

He sighs as he pulls you close. His chest vibrates against you as he speaks. “You’re going to be the death of me, aren’t you?” 

[whatifitis]

♡ In Between - FC 43 ♡

Summary: You and Franco has a nice night in, when you start to think about your guys relationship and wonder if it's time you tell him that you really like him.

WC: 2320

CW: overuse of song references, nothing really, it's quite fluffy, maybe some negative thoughts the reader has about themselves?

It’s a Saturday night, one of the least chaotic ones now that your best friend is a driver in F1. Franco was called up to fill Logan's seat for the rest of the season which is beyond exciting and you couldn’t be more proud. The only downside is that his schedule is so much more packed now that he’s getting acknowledgement from so many teams and people. All this new media coverage feels so insane. And something that doesn’t help is the fact that you’ve slowly been falling for Franco.

The two of you have been friends for a while. But in recent months, you’ve started to see him in a different light. You’re sure it’s just a crush but it’s been well over 2 months that you’ve felt this way. Some say that crushes only last about 2 months, once you’re past that mark, you’re actually in love with the person. You hoped this crush would go away, afraid to ruin what you have with Franco. Your relationship with him is the best that’s ever happened to you. You never want to lose him. But alas, the crush did not go away. So now you’re here.

It’s a bit late into the evening now. Franco asked you out for lunch earlier and now the two of you are lying on his bed, watching American Pie. The two of you were lying on the bed, side by side. Franco was lying with his back against the bed's headboard while you lied next to him on your side. The safest place you’ve ever known, next to him.

The two of you were halfway through the movie when he asked you a question that you didn’t quite catch the first time, so you angle your head up to look at him. As soon as you locked eyes with him, Franco couldn’t help but laugh. When you moved your head to look at him, your glasses had skewed on your face.

His laugh always was so contagious, it always got you laughing too. When you two had calmed your laughing fits, Franco took his hand and adjusted your glasses into the right position, before leaning forward and gently kissing your forehead.

“You’re beautiful… and funny… And smart. Like nothing I’ve ever seen.” You turned to bury your face in your hands, trying to hide your blushing face. You love it when he talks, not just about you. About anything really, he’s your favorite yapper and you wish you could listen to him all day. Your favorite sound ever.

“Hey, let me see that beautiful face again.” Franco says, grabbing your hand and moving it from your face. “Hi” he says when he can see you again. “Hi” you reply, smiling so hard. It was so hard to believe this was real, your guy's friendship. It was the type of relationship you’d always dreamed of, that sort of naive and innocent relationship that was filled with laughter and joy and… love? Was it too soon to use that word? Maybe considering you were just friends… Just. Friends.

“So,” Franco started, pulling you out of your thoughts, “What’s the dream?” “The dream?” you look at him, confusion written all over your face. “Yeah, the dream. Your dream. What you’re working towards.”

You laid there for a beat, thinking about it. What was your dream? All this time, you’ve just been focusing on surviving, not so much on the living.

“Um, I’m not sure. I’ve never really thought about it. I guess I want to finish my masters degree in uni. Then after that, just… live, I guess.” you look up at him with a smile. “That’s it? You don’t have any other goals or anything?” - his eyebrows furrow, showing you a confused expression. You shake your head no. “You’re kidding.” - Franco snorts in disbelief. “Well, what are yours? Your plans, goals.” You ask as you sit up against the headboard of the bed. “Em, well, I guess F1 was always a big goal, and now I have it.” he sits there for a second, thinking, twisting his lips as he does, “I’ve also always wanted to have a nice house for my family.” “What does this house look like?” you ask. He takes a moment to think, trying to come up with an honest answer for you. “I never really thought about that to be honest. I just want something nice with enough space for my family. I think a pool in the back would be nice. A big backyard so we could have barbecues as well.”

You’re smiling at him, admiring the person in front of you. You could find the whole meaning of life in those eyes. You’re glad he gets you, and your dark sense of humor. And when you let him in on all your bad decisions, he made them feel less terrible the second that he’d listen.

Don’t stop talking to me. Maybe stay here forever, with me.

“I think that sounds lovely.” you say. “Thank you.” he replies, blushing at your words, “What about your house? Your dream house. Surely you have a dream house.”

You sit up straight, so ready to answer this question. You won’t lie when you say you’ve always wanted to be asked about this. “I do. Um, well it would have a green kitchen. I saw a picture of one online a while ago and just became obsessed with the idea. And the bathrooms would be pink and red, I just think that would look sick. Oh! I also really want a blue hallway.” Franco gives you a confused look, “A blue hallway? For what?” “There’s this band that I love and in one of their music videos, the band painted a wall in the house blue.” “Ah. Which song is the one for the blue wall?” “It’s called True Blue. It’s a song about the person you love and who loves you. This person knows you so well, maybe even more than you know yourself.” “Interesting” he nods his head as he mentally writes down the name of that song so he can listen to it later. He turns his body more towards you, asking “Do you have a true blue?” “I think I’m slowly discovering mine” - you confess. “What about you? Got a true blue yourself?” He looks at you before looking down at his hands and failing to suppress a smile. “Yeah, I do.” “Well, go on. Tell me about them.” you insist. “She’s really cool.”

She? Was he talking to someone else? No, don’t be like that. Maybe it’s just a friend or something? Right?

“She is also really smart.”, he continues, “She loves reading and not only listening to music but also creating it.” Is he talking about me? I do that. “And she’s really good at that. She’s also the hardest working person I know. Like I mean she’s really smart, like Einstein smart.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at this. He’s definitely exaggerating but you have to admit, you’re pretty fucking smart.

“Oh, is she now? She must be one hell of a catch” “Oh trust me. She is and I’m very lucky to have her. She’s also the most beautiful person I’ve ever known. Not just on the outside, that’s an added bonus. But she’s just incredible. And she laughs at all my jokes. And when I save the dirty ones for her, her nose crinkles. It’s really cute actually. Her voice as well, oh my god. The best sound ever. Like when there’s something she’s really interested in or really passionate about, she could talk for hours. That’s one of my favorite things about her. That and her laugh, I wish I could bottle up the sound of her laugh and keep it with me, so I can listen to it whenever I want. Don’t even get me started on how she is with my family. They all get along so amazingly, it’s so much greater than anything I could ever imagine. I think one of the selling points was my family loving her as much as I do. This girl also will drop everything for those she loves. It doesn’t matter if she has work or school or anything, she will drop it just to make sure you’re okay. And she will beat anyone’s ass if they hurt you. I think I’m falling for her. I don’t wanna look at anything else now that I’ve seen her. Now it’s like there’s daylight. Whenever I’m with her, everything feels okay.” “Wow.” is all you can say in this moment. Was he really talking about you? Or are you wishfully thinking he is? “Yeah”, he blushes, “wow”

You take a moment to take all that information in. Maybe he wasn’t talking about you. You clearly see how amazing he is, other people are able to as well. Your mood kind of dampens from these thoughts. You really thought you two could be something. You guess you made it all up in your head, it’s just all one sided.

“What’s wrong?” Franco asks. “Hm? What?” you respond, startled from the sudden break of silence. “What’s wrong? You kind of spaced out.” “Oh, nothing. Was just thinking.” “About?” he responds, sitting up from the bed to lean a bit closer to you. “It’s really nothing. Let’s keep watching the movie” you try to smile and lighten the mood again.

You move to raise the volume on the tv, but you feel Franco’s hand wrap around your wrist lightly. You turn back to look at Franco. He looks confused, and a bit scared?

“Wait, I need to talk to you.”

Oh shit

You return to your spot on the bed, not fully relaxing as his last sentence is kind of terrifying. “Yeah, of course. What’s up?” “I need to tell you something… about that girl.” “Oh”

Damn, alright. Keep bragging about how it’s not me, I guess.

“Well, I know she often thinks negatively about herself. Like she doesn’t deserve that type of stuff. Like love and happiness. She also has a hard time believing that people really do care about her. But I do, I love and care about her so much. And I know she’s afraid of letting people in, and she’s let me in a bit, but I want more with her.”

Ok, fuck me then. Wow, leave it to Franco to absolutely break my heart, unknowingly.

“So, what did you need from me?” “You dumb ass, it’s you! You’re the girl. You’re my true blue.” he lightly laughs.

What.

“What.” you stare at him blankly.

What the fuck? Is he for real right now? How though?

“I like you. I want more with you! You’re my true blue! I want you for worse or for better. I would wait for ever and ever.” - his tone is quiet as he confesses his feelings for you. You sit there silent for a moment before catching something. “Bitch, did you just quote Taylor Swift?!”

He looked to the side for a minute, as if he was thinking or trying to remember something while he pursed his lips. “Yeah?” he laughs, “I know you like her a lot so I listened to her a lot to try and learn some of her songs. They’re pretty good”

I’m going down without a fight, I don’t know how he does this. He makes me really nervous. What is he doing to me now?

“You listened to her… just for me?” you ask, still hesitant on whether he’s being serious or just messing with you. Cause you’re still falling for him and you can’t stop. This might be the thing that breaks you if it doesn’t end well.

“Yes. Staying up with you, despite the space between us. I’ve never felt so close to someone. You came out of the blue like a shooting star. You wait and wait for it to appear, and when it does, it illuminates its surroundings, just for a second. And that is the feeling that I want to feel forever. Everytime I get to see you, it’s like you illuminate every space you walk into.”

What if he’s my weakness?

“I- I don’t know what to say. All this time, I’ve been keeping on my mind on the running away. And for the first time, I’d consider to stay. I know I make the same mistakes a lot and I never learn. But I think I did one thing right.” you say, smiling as his starry eyes spark up this dark night.

He’s looking at you with so much admiration in his eyes.

“I got so damn close to packing it up, then you happened. I’ll never leave out the back door and I don’t plan on running away from the good things anymore.” - you continue.

The two of you just sat there in silence, staring at each other with smiles plastered on your faces. Franco is the first to break, moving closer to you, leaning close to grab the side of your face.

Breathe in, breathe through, breathe deep, breathe out

You’re close enough to feel each other breathe. Just one inch closer and… His lips are on yours, connecting gently. They’re warm and soft. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling your bodies closer together. At the same time, Franco brings his other arm to wrap around your torso, grabbing the side of your waist so you don’t slip away. It’s like taking your first breath of air in years. You feel his lips on yours as butterflies erupt in your stomach.

After a few moments, you break the kiss, needing to actually take in some air. Franco’s hand is still on the side of your face, slowly he slides it down to connect your fingers with his.

“Can I be yours?” he asks, “Your forever true blue?” he asks. “Forever and always”

[cxrrodedcoffin]

Sweet Understanding - Emily Prentiss

Likes are always appreciated but reblogs and feedback keep artists going!

——

Summary: Reader has a rough day at work and Emily knows just how to relieve some stress.

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: reader has sensory issues but specific condition is not mentioned. inspired by my real life experiences, i have adhd and get very easily overstimulated so i did get a little self indulgent with this one lol

TW: fingering, oral sex, praise kink, afab reader, use of “girl” and she/her pronouns in reference to reader, mentions of sensory issues, borderline excessive use of pet names, reader is submissive & slightly unsure of herself

Rating: R, there’s a lot of fluff here but it develops into smut so 18+ only please!

——

You shut the door a little too hard behind you as you dropped your bag to the floor, sigh of relief falling from your lips.

“What’s wrong baby?” Emily questioned, getting up from her place on the couch to walk over to you. Her slender arms wrapped around your frame, pulling you into a much-needed hug after the day you’d had.

“Work was awful, my whole body is sore and I had to fight through how overstimulated everything about that place makes me all day.” You stumbled over your words, your brain struggling to form a coherent thought with how low your social battery was from all of the interactions you had to engage in throughout the day.

“I’m sorry you had a tough day sweet girl, is there anything I can do to help?” Her hand cupped your cheek, thumb swiping softly over your skin. You lean into her touch, looking into her eyes as you search for any semblance of hesitation, but there is none. Emily doesn’t have any reservations about your relationship, she knows how tough your sensory issues are to handle and all she wants is to make life a little easier for you in any way she can. You’re too precious to her, she never wants to see you in pain if she can help it.

“Maybe a bath…together?” You suggest, crimson blush rising over your cheeks. You’re still a little shy to initiate intimacy of any kind, learning to ask for touch from the one person who’s touch you desire most is all so foreign to you after a lifetime of discomfort with contact from others.

“That is an excellent idea, can you get the water running angel? I just have to grab a couple things and I’ll be right in.” You nod and she kisses you on the forehead before parting, making you way to your ensuite bathroom. When Emily was apartment hunting she specifically wanted a tub deep enough to fit two people. As strong as the front she puts up is, she’s really a romantic at heart, and recreating a romcom bubble bath scene had been on her bucket list for awhile. You were grateful for that now, illicit thoughts floating through your mind as you watched the water slowly fill up the tub.

Emily finally joined you, setting your favorite scented lotion on the bathroom counter and pouring some bubble bath into the still-rising water.

“Give me your hands, sweetheart.” She cooed, opening the bottle of lotion and taking a small amount into her palms. She took your hands in hers, her fingers gently massaging the tired muscles in your palms and giving the cracked skin on the back of your hands some much-needed moisture. She knew you couldn’t stand the feeling of your hands being dry, it was one of the seemingly small things that she could help, and she didn’t mind getting to have a little extra time holding your hand.

Once she finished, she helped lift your top over your head, goosebumps forming as the cool air hit your bare skin. You both continued to undress until you were completely bare, your nipples perking at the exposure.

Emily took your hand, letting you brace yourself against her for extra stability as you stepped into the tub, sinking into the warm water. Once you were properly settled she stepped in behind you, her back resting against the side of the tub as she pulled your hips back so you were between her legs, your back flush with her chest. You snuggled into her, resting your head on her shoulder and enjoying the way the warm water soothed your aching legs.

“You’re so beautiful babydoll.” Her voice was smooth, and her praise caused your cheeks to flush again.

“Thank you my love.” You purred, relaxing fully against her. Her fingers began to trace patterns up your sides, fingertips dancing along the sides of your breasts. A chill ran up your spine at the sensitive touch, a dull ache growing between your thighs. Her touch became more intense, hands cupping your breasts, gently kneading as your nipples rubbed against her palms. You whined, growing desperate for more.

“What do you need, sweet girl?” She asked, rolling your nipples between her fingers in hopes of eliciting more sounds from you. It worked, whimpers falling from your lips as she tweaked your sensitive buds.

“Touch me please.” You whine, squirming against her.

“I’m already touching you angel, you need to be more specific.”

“Between my legs, please.” You can’t articulate exactly what you want because you’re honestly not sure, you just want her to do whatever she wants with your pussy.

Her right hand movies to your inner thigh, fingers inching closer until she traces your labia, teasingly rubbing just beside your clit. You whine in frustration before taking her hand in yours and placing her fingers on your clit.

“Right here.” You sigh, closing your eyes in anticipation. She rubs slowly at first, almost agonizingly so before picking up the pace, rubbing quick circles over your bundle of nerves. The water begins to sway ever so slightly around you, her arm movements creating gentle waves. You nuzzle your forehead against her neck, soft moans falling just beneath her ear, spurring her on. Before you know it she’s dipping her index and middle fingers inside of you, thumb taking over rubbing your clit as she curls her fingers inside of you.

You’re losing all semblance of reality, only able to focus on her slender fingers pumping expertly into you, coaxing out desperate whimpers as your release draws closer and closer.

Your walls start to contract around her fingers, telling her you were teetering on the edge of release.

“That’s it sweetheart, let go.” She whispers, holding her pace steady until you cry out, a broken sob wracking your body as euphoria washes over you, the tension that had built up throughout the day finally releasing.

Emily slows her ministrations, helping you work through your orgasm before withdrawing her fingers from your pulsing cunt. She plants a kiss on your forehead once more, looking lovingly into your hazy eyes.

“So good for me, angel.” She praises, letting you recover for a moment. You plant kisses along her jawline, taking your hand in yours.

“Thank you.” You sigh, content to sit here with her until the end of time.

“I’m always happy to help you, no matter what.”

“I know, but you’re always so busy and I don’t want to add any stress, it’s not fair to you.” Guilt starts to creep in slightly as you realize you hadn’t asked how her day was when you got home.

“Baby, the team hasn’t had a case in 2 weeks, I’ve done nothing but paperwork all day. You are under a lot more stress than I am right now, and I know you’ll return the favor so don’t worry about it.” She reassured, squeezing your hand.

“Can I do that now? Return the favor, I mean.” You start to rise from the tub, reaching out your hand to help Emily up. She smiles at you, nodding approval as she steps out. The two of you quickly dry off, trailing into the bedroom.

“How do you want me?” She questions, okay with whatever position is most comfortable for you.

“Sit against the headboard and spread your legs, please.” You tell her, always polite even in your desires. She does just what you ask, giving you a full view of her gorgeous cunt. You climb on the bed with her, moving to lay on your stomach with your head between her legs. You look up at her longingly and she smiles down at you, lightly nodding to give you the go ahead.

You dive in, tongue lapping long flat stripes through her folds, desperate to taste as much of her as possible. You were hungry, savoring the delicious taste of her arousal as you dipped your tongue inside of her. Her hand found its way to your hair, fingers tangling in soft strands as she pulled you closer.

Your hand joined your mouth, fingers sliding into her to feel the warmth of her walls pulsing around them. Your tongue gave kitten licks to her clit, slowly increasing pressure and pace until you had her moaning and grinding her hips against you. You wrapped your lips around her bundle of nerves, sucking as you curled your fingers, knowing just how to take her over the edge. You needed to taste her cum, desperate for the sight of her milky white release on your fingers.

“Don’t stop baby, almost there!” She moaned, lightly tugging your hair as her grip locked.

You used your free hand to reach up and tweak her nipple, the added sensation delicious enough to finally give her the release you both were so desperate for. You gently licked her clit, helping her ride the wave until she relaxed, her cries of ecstasy turning to pants of relief. You removed your fingers, sucking them clean before pressing your tongue flat against her entrance to lap up the rest of her arousal.

“You are incredible.” Her words took a moment to register but the moment they did you could feel your heart swell, she was the incredible one. She made you feel more comfortable than anyone else in your life ever had, and you were so grateful for her.

“I love you.” You climbed up to lay beside her, pulling her in for a kiss. She returned the favor, her arms wrapping around your waist.

“I love you too sweet girl.”

You laid your head on her chest, her fingers toying with your hair until you drifted off to sleep.

——

tag list: @pleasantwitchgarden

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[jarofstyles]

Put Your Records On

This is a little thing I came up with at 2 am and kept writing till 5 lol. It's pop star y/n x rock star H. I don't do a lot of canon H and some things are changed/ don't fit into the real one but that's on purpose. Part two will be up very soon!

Check out our Patreon for early access to part 2 and 170+ exclusive writings!

WC- 4.2k

Warnings- dirty talk, mention of bullying (Brief)

She saw him from across the room- well, more like felt him. The room had a buzz in it that it hadn’t before.

It was common knowledge that he was going to be there. One of his best friends was hosting the after party for the BRIT awards, and she had been lucky enough to be invited considering her manager had been friends with the group for a while. Actually, it was a bit shocking that she’d never met the man considering how close their circles ran. She’d met a lot of his management and production team, even a few members of his band- but never the man himself. 

It was her second year after making it big on the music scene but her entire life, she’d been working towards this. School musicals, voice lessons, guitar and piano lessons, music had become her flesh and blood and she was determined to make it her bread and fucking butter. She’d been blessed with her voice and a talent like hers wasn’t one to waste, that’s what her parents had said as she grew up- and it had all paid off. She went home with Best New Artist and was coming down on the buzzing high of another huge accomplishment of her career. 

Harry was infamous, at the top of the damn world and everyone knew his name. He was just about to hop back on tour, one Y/N had been invited to attend by his manager himself. It seemed like today was the day they would finally meet in person, and judging by the recognition in his eye, he had heard about her too. 

God, that made her want to vomit. Growing up she’d been a casual fan of his band, been to a few shows even after scraping together enough money for a ticket along with her best friend. Said friend was lost somewhere in the room and Y/N knew she had a knack for awful timing, but as the man got closer to her she felt her insides begin to bubble. She wasn’t one to get starstruck super easily, thank god, but it was hard not to feel intimidated as he approached her. A black blazer with a very sheer pink blouse underneath, pants tight on the thighs and flared at the calves, necklaces hanging in a thatch of thin chest hair, she’d felt her mouth dry as his smile was given directly to her. Someone she’d grown up singing to in her bedroom, right into her hairbrush, was grinning at her like she was someone important. 

“So we finally meet.” Harry reached his hand out to shake hers. Clunky rings covered the digits as her own took them, shaking his warm hand with her own smile on her face. She’d been on stage in front of tens of thousands of people, and yet he was a bit more intimidating. Still she was going to do her best to use her brief acting skills and pretend her heart wasn’t in her throat. “I’ve heard so much about you- your album’s fucking brilliant.”

He was tipsy, she could see that much. His eyes were slightly hooded and he had a looser demeanor than he had seated at the table ahead of her at the awards show. Good for him. It wasn’t likely that he did this too much. It was well known that he wasn’t much for drinking during his working season and he’d won two awards! That called for drinks all around. 

What took her off guard, though, was the fact that he’d listened to her album. He listened and he had said it was good? Her cheeks heated as she realized he was still holding her hand, gently letting it fall as he took a step closer. It was a little loud out there but not too bad if you were close enough. “You think so? I’m hoping it’s all good things.” She let out a laugh she hoped sounded natural, adjusting her hair. The girl had always been one to fuss with her clothes when she was nervous but hopefully he didn’t realize that. “So is yours. Got quite a few on my playlists.” 

“Yeah?” His smile grew bigger. “Which ones?” Y/N felt the lump in her throat as she tried not to think about how good he smelled. It was so creepy, noticing that. There was a faint hint of tobacco and the tiniest bit of alcohol, but he smelled really warm. Cuddly, in a way. It made sense in her brain, but she was also a drink in at this point. 

“Mmm, I have a few from other albums but from the latest? Satellite, that’s the go to for the gym for me… Late Night Talking, very relatable for me. Erm… Boyfriends, unfortunately.” She saw him give a playful wince. “Yeah, men are shit- no offence. And then I’d say Daydreaming is a personal favorite. As It Was was brilliant, obviously, but Daydreaming is my favorite.” It felt like maybe she word-vomited a little but he’d listened to every word, seeming pleased with her answers. 

“Daydreaming isn’t one I hear of being a favorite, usually. M’chuffed that it’s yours.” He genuinely seemed happy about it. “I really liked the closing track of your album- it’s so rare to find albums that tell a story, that are thoughtfully laid out, at least at this point in time. I love to listen from front to back and it was laid out perfectly. Usually m’a bit of a snob and would have some critiques but you nailed it.” 

Y/N preened. It wasn’t a compliment she got often and it shocked her because that meant he’d really listened. Really paid attention to her music and took time with her album. It was extremely flattering. Surreal, really. Who could have told 15 year old Y/N that Harry would be a fan of her fucking music? She’d probably pass the fuck out. “I’m shocked you got that, but thank you. Yeah, I did the same thing growing up. It was my favorite part of music I’d find, seeing how stuff flowed together. Top to bottom and then bottom to top, then I can shuffle.” It was said in a slightly joking tone but she was fully serious. 

“You get it, Y/N.” He reached out to nudge her shoulder. “I’ve been trying to meet you for a bit but my schedule’s been hectic. Thought it wouldn’t be since we’ve been going for a bit now but tour prep… can be brutal, y’know?” 

Y/N did know, but on a minuscule scale compared to what his tour probably entailed. He was doing stadiums, for god’s sake! Y/N’s arena tour sold out quickly, but there was a huge size difference in where they were. Hopefully she’d reach his level one day. “I do, I do. It’s not a big deal, I didn’t think you were avoiding me or anything.” For a bit she did, but that was wiped away when she’d realized he released the tour dates. It had been months of almost meetings but she had faith in the universe. When it was meant to happen, it would. 

“God no, I was excited to. Did y’want to come sit with us over there?” He motioned to the private area she was allowed into but not been brave enough to venture to quite yet. 

“Sure, that would be nice.” Y/N hadn’t expected to be invited to sit with him personally, let alone feel his hand on her back as he led them through the crowd of people in the room. The star said hellos as he walked through but somehow had mastered the art of saying hi without being caught into a conversation without seeming rude. That was a skill she sure as hell was envious of.

His hand was really fucking warm. She could feel slight calluses on his fingertips, in true musician fashion, but they weren’t as rough as one would originally expect. Her backless dress did her no favors in hiding the warmth and how nice and comforting his touch felt, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to thank or scowl at her stylist. It wasn’t half as uncomfortable as the dress they’d pulled for the carpet, thankfully this dress was a slinky, emerald green one with room for her legs to actually move. Her updo had been taken down to a mess of curls that nearly reached where his hands were- the power of extensions. As heavy as her head felt, she couldn’t deny that she felt exceptionally beautiful. Thank god the universe had chosen today to meet Harry. 

“Finally!” Sarah sighed. “I’ve been waiting for you two to meet for ages. Come sit.” The woman had always been very sweet, even more sweet with a few drinks in her. Saying her hellos to the familiar people, she felt Harry sit himself next to her in the booth and immediately drinks were brought over. So this is why it was VIP. It was a lemon drop, something Y/N did happen to like. Harry handing her one before taking his own was unexpected but very appreciated, a gentle thank you exchanged as he settled back next to her. 

It was unreal to be here. To be sat at a table of friendly but insanely successful people, feel like part of the ‘in’ crowd, it had completely blindsided her. This was the sort of thing that she’d always thought about when she was in her bed at home as a teenager, hoping one day to rub elbows with the people she once admired so much they had space on her bedroom wall, and here it was. Someone who’s face was on her favorite bedtime tee shirt (Those merch shirts were expensive and she wasn’t about to get rid of it because a member was now in her circle). 

“Y/N, did you know that H added some of your songs to the preshow playlist in his dressing room?” Sarah hummed. 

“You did?” The girl gasped as she looked at him. If she didn’t know better, she could have sworn she saw a bit of a pink glint to his cheeks. Maybe it was the alcohol. 

“He did, and he’s been raving about it to Mitch. Sometimes he’s singing it when we pass, that one song about the… what’s it called? The Raven? Some sort of bird.” 

“I think you’ve had enough to drink.” Mitch had to laugh at her airing a bit of Harry’s business, but she was a chatterbox when she was drunk. 

“That’s so nice!” Y/N said shyly. “You’re on mine too, actually. The dressing room for me and the one the fans listen to, I can hear them sing it from backstage.”

Harry’s leg was pressed into hers so she didn’t have to turn far to look at him, watching him finish his drink as he nodded. “I do, yeah. Told you I liked your music. I meant it.”

“Yeah, if he didn’t he wouldn’t mention it. That’s why when he met that girl earlier he just said it was nice to meet-” Sarah was cut off by her husband asking her if she wanted to see something on his phone, putting Harry out of his misery. 

“M’not an ass.” He groaned. “I just didn’t vibe with the album, y’know? I won’t say things I don’t mean but that doesn’t mean I can’t be polite.”

“Agree, 100%. It’s easy when it’s just a taste thing, but I’ve found it harder with people I’ve seen or heard talk bad about me and it’s confirmed. Dunno how you’re able to do that.” Y/N struggled to not show her nerves or distaste of people sometimes and it was something she was constantly working on. Her best friend often had to tell her to adjust her facial expressions and she’d even gone viral once for a ‘stink face’ she’d made at someone. It was accidental of course, but it’d also caused one of her first big waves of hate. 

“It’s not easy, and anyone who says so is lying.” Harry confirmed. “It’s taken me years. Said something about pussy on tv not realizing the cameras could see, so It’s trial and error.” The joke had the both of them laughing, Y/N not divulging that she indeed already knew that. “I think it’s important to just remember they’re humans and probably just as nervous t’see you. It’s just a short interaction and you can move on quickly. I also think working out, yoga, all of that helps a lot with my inner calm. It isn’t easy, like I said, but you’re also in the beginnings of your career in this sort of light. I’ve got no doubt that you’ll be able to have a good poker face by the end of the year.”

“God, I love that song.” Y/N sighed. “Poker face, loved that one I mean. But thank you. I really do appreciate the advice. I was terrified coming tonight. The award shows are much scarier than your own gigs.” 

“Oh, definitely.” Harry whistled, taking another drink from the tray and handing a fresh one to her. “S’like, you know the people who go to your shows are there for you. It’s like a little family get together, it’s safer. Those people love you enough t’buy a ticket, travel got knows how long, wears a shirt with your face on it. It’s mental to think about but incredible. These things?” He motioned around the room. “All marketing and partying, but more drama. S’crazy how many people have slept with each other in this room.” Harry realized a bit too late that he’d said too much but thankfully Y/N just giggled in agreement. “You seem to take to it quite well though. Not to sound weird but I saw you accept your awards and socialize a bit here, you’ve probably got the whole room fooled.”

That was a relief and a compliment in her opinion. The goal was to make sure no one sensed the weakness. Unfortunately she’d learned early on that these people could sniff it out like a shark in bloodied water. “That’s the goal.” She replied, leaning back into the seat. Her back was killing her from the bloody heels on her feet and how tight her other dress was, so it was a relief to have this reprieve from them sitting here. 

“So tell me about your tour then. What’s going on with that?”

—-----------

Y/N was drunk. Certifiably hammered. She had one too many lemon drops and apparently, so did Harry. Some of the people had vacated the booth and it left them alone as they talked amongst themselves. With the aid of the liquid courage, she wasn’t losing her mind over how close they were. Sure, her heart was still going a million miles a minute, but that was due to his fingers fiddling with the strap of her dress. Harry was, evidently, a touchy drunk. Clingy. He’d even followed her to the bathroom and waited for her outside before they’d returned. 

In all honesty, she was pretty sure she wouldn’t believe all of this in the morning. That Harry had ignored everyone else in favor of talking to her, tucked away in VIP at a round table, his body closer than it needed to be considering the space. They’d talked about a lot of industry things, but more so the fun and personal. She told him about her collection of band tee shirts and admitting to not having listened to all the bands she wore, but he didn’t judge her for it. Said he went through a phase of doing the same while in the band. She told him about her cat, a Siamese named Simon and he’d cooed over photos on her phone about how cute he’d looked with his collar that had a little flower on it. So many topics were covered, so many things discussed in the last two hours that she felt like she was getting a handle on who he was. 

Though this many drinks, it was bleeding into oversharing.

“Your ex was at the awards?” He asked, eyes slightly red but widening as she dropped the tidbit.

“Yep.” The p in the word was exaggerated with a pop of her lips and an eye roll. “Note to you for the future, don’t fuck anyone involved in your production team. Makes for a nasty breakup and a lot of rude ‘inside sources’ with the press.” Her lips flattened. “And he couldn’t even make me finish, so. Fuck him.”

Harry’s eyes widened further before he groaned, his head dropping to the side onto the leather booth seat. “No, not that, Y/N. C’mon.” He seemed a bit distraught. “It’s always those guys that make your life hell, isn’t it? I’m sorry. I did learn that a bit early on.” He seemed to remember it but she didn’t ask. If he didn’t divulge it, she wasn’t going to pry. “You got the shit end of the stick. It’s one of my embarrassments being a male. Y’don’t have to be a rocket scientist to learn how to pleasure a woman.”

“You’d think.” She scoffed. “Swear, men in LA don’t know how to use any of their appendages. Used like a human fleshlight so I stopped hooking up with people. It got discouraging after the fifth time I left. Not a single one know where the clit is.” It was an unfortunate truth. Maybe she was looking in the wrong places or had a string of bad luck, but she’d been voluntarily celibate because of it. “Doubt you know what m’talking about, Mr Watermelon Sugar.”

Y/N realized her internal thought had become an external one when he broke out into his own giggles, her face heating. She’d definitely not meant for that to be said out loud, but thankfully he didn’t seem offended. It was the truth anyways, any man who loved pleasuring a woman so much that he wrote a whole song about it had to know what he was doing.

As his giggles came down, he replied. “Well, I’d like t’think I do. I…” He swallowed. “Know we just met, but overshare?” Scooting closer, he watched her nod. “I think I get off more on getting other people off, if that makes sense. Like, making someone feel good. I dunno if it’s some sort of ego thing, but I enjoy it a lot. Being the cause of pleasure. Think it probably ties in to a bit of a praise kink I’ve got, but it’s the truth.” 

Y/N had never thought she’d get into this sort of conversation with the man, let alone in a dark corner at the BRITs afterparty, but she wasn’t about to complain. “So it’s true then?” She rose an eyebrow. “You really love eating pussy?” Drunk Y/N had officially taken over. A bit of a drunk, horny Y/N she’d been trying to repress. In the morning she would be mortified that she asked that, but right now she was genuinely curious. 

“I do.” He smirked. “I dunno there’s just something about it. Being the one to make someone gasp. When it feels so good they try and push and pull you at the same time. Love the taste, love t’hear the noises. Maybe it’s a little arrogant of me but your name sounds better when it’s said with pleasure, don’t you think?” 

Y/N should have known better than to ask. Harry was a very attractive, alluring man, he was close to her and smelled so fucking good and god damn it, she was already horny. Her cunt throbbed and she knew she was going to have a wet patch in her thong when she left, but she was a glutton for punishment. “I do. I like giving for the same reason.” She admitted. “I’ve always had a lack of gag reflex so, it’s made it easier for me than other people probably have it.”

Harry’s interest seemed to be stroked, fingers brushing over her bare neck as she spoke. It was hard to concentrate here, with him so close. But Y/N always did like to be a bit of a tease, brushing the tip of her foot over the back of his leg. Maybe they were playing a dangerous game talking about this, but no one else was around. She didn’t fall back when his head dipped slightly, getting closer than necessary. “Look at us then. What a pair.” 

“I know. You’re just bold enough to write a whole song about it.” Her finger poked him playfully in the chest. 

“M’not apologetic about it. A woman’s pleasure is important and often overlooked. Makes me sad that no one’s made you feel good in that long. I hope you’re taking care of yourself at the very least.” Oh, she was. And she would be when she got back to her hotel tonight. Thank god for the suction vibrators. 

“I do, but it’s not the same as having someone else do it for you.” Her drunk self told her it as a good idea to pout, trying not to breath too hard as his fingers caressed the nape of her neck. “Sometimes I just miss the touch of another human, you know? Even innocent touches but, there’s nothing like being fucked so hard you feel it the next day. Feels like it’s impossible to find it anymore.” 

“It’s not.” He replied. Eyes were staring into her own. “You’re fucking stunning. Especially tonight, you could pull anyone in the room.” Gaze dipped down to her cleavage, not hiding that he was looking. Heat that had been bubbling in her stomach spread through the rest of her body, his touch igniting a bit of a spark. 

“Anyone?” Her head tilted to the side. The tension had been growing a bit with the two of them but now it was thick in the air. There was no denying that there was an attraction between them but it was palpable now. “So if I wanted to, I could pull you?” Y/N had no idea if he was even available for anything right now. It wasn't’ a smart idea considering how closely they worked near each other, but right now all she could think about was the fact that she had full confidence that Harry could give her the feelings that she wanted- the fuck she needed. 

“Absolutely. M’hanging on by a thread here.” His voice deepened, face far closer to hers than should be appropriate for two people who just met. “I’ve been trying to be a gentleman all night. M’a bit of a slut sometimes but hookups aren’t usually my thing. Was trying to figure out a way to ask you out but, I’ve been a little nervous.” Fingers curled around the back of her neck as their noses brushed. ‘But fuck it, right?” Warm breaths puffed against each others, leaving the ball in Y/N’s court. 

“Fuck it.” 

Harry took that and ran. Lips pressed against hers as he cradled her neck, angling her how he wanted while he slowly kissed her. It was shockingly intimate despite the setting, smooth, soft lips sucking lightly against hers. There was no sign of stopping as her mouth opened for him, letting their tongue brush and the heat rise between them. His body angled slightly to cover hers from view, he let out a low groan in his throat as her hand raised to his hair. It was soft and a bit long for him as of late, but it felt good between her fingers. His other hand held the side of her face, so gentle but solid that she knew she’d give into any of his demands. 

The party raged on behind them but they got lost in the kisses, one turning to three, turning to ten and they hardly came up for air. There was no doubt her makeup was going to be fucked up, that her lipstick was done for, but there was no better way to ruin it. “Y’taste so sweet.” Harry’s words were whispered against her swelling lips. “And you smell so good. Been driving me a bit crazy. Wanted to meet you for ages cause I knew we’d get on… but didn’t think we’d get on this well.” He chuckled into the kiss, squeezing the back of her neck and making her melt slightly into him. “Hoped for it, though.” 

“You did?” Her own voice was breathless as she tried to catch up to his kisses.. It was hard not to get butterflies when he hummed in agreement. Harry had been excited to meet her. “Had a little crush, did you?” The statement was fully meant to be a tease, but he agreed. 

“Suppose I did.”

[mommybard]

You know how in some lewd stories they have those pills that can change or corrupt people? I need those to become real because I’m stuck with a thought that I just can’t get out of my head.

Getting just the cutest little thing as a roommate. Befriending them. Gaining their trust. Hanging out with them. And then…well, slipping some of those into their food and drink. Not enough to give them an overnight change, where’s the fun in that? No, just enough for small changes here and there that their mind will rationalize away until it's too late~

Increased libido? That’s not too hard to explain away, some people's sex drives tend to ramp up or slow down for various reasons. So it’s not too hard for them to accept when they find themselves masturbating as the first thing when they wake up and the last thing before going to bed. Granted, they’re suddenly wanting more but…well, that could just be anything. Definitely not caused by the cookies I made them~

The changes to their body? Well that's easy enough at first. Sometimes people gain a bit of weight, or clothes shrink in the wash. That has to be the reason those jeans seem to be clinging a bit more, hugging their hips, barely able to get up over their ass. And they have been going to the gym…maybe its just finally seeing the results of the work out? As for their chest…well its just more sensitive it all. Could really be anything. Probably not that fresh horchata I made them~

The changes keep coming. Any rational person would've probably scheduled a check up to find the cause. And they meant to do that, honestly! Its just…their focus has been preoccupied recently. It started off with just finding themselves occasionally day dreaming about lewd things. Being forced to their knees and made to worship a domme. What it would be like if their friends lost all respect for them as a person and started to use them like a free use toy. How good it would feel to not have to think but instead just be the bestest little pet, spending their day under the desk of someone who does the thinking and worrying for them as they fill their day with loyal service to that person. 

But its been taking up more of their brainpower. The last few times when they meant to make the call they got distracted when they opened their phone and saw the smutty story they had been touching themselves to earlier…and, well…spend the next few hours playing with themselves. Similar thing happened when they tried to do it on the computer. They meant to type in the website! But as they started it auto suggested a porn site and…gods way they would give to get fucked like that. 

Poor thing being forced to wear less and less as they run out of clothes that genuinely fit anymore. Thinking they're being subtle about how drooly they'll get mid conversation. That the walls are thick enough that I can't hear them desperately fucking their holes raw on toys they rushed to order. 

Until I give them the final pill. One that pushes them into a deep heat. Full strength, not the careful doses I used with the other drugs. Watching them drink it down without even realizing, laughing to myself when they rush to their bedroom to “study”. Letting them go for a few hours, long enough for them to realize that need deep inside them isn't getting satisfied with their fingers or toys. They need something more. Something real. 

And of course, like the good friend I am, I offer to help them out. Wouldn't want them to try to rush out in their state. There are so many evil people out there who might take advantage of them and their trust! I wouldn't want that now, would I~?

[buckysdollbarnes]

you are in love series - part one

one look, dark room

PAIRING: tfawts!bucky x grad student!reader

Summary: Moving to NYC to go to grad school, your friend's dad has a connection with the owner of a rental building in Brooklyn where you can live on your own, for cheaper than you could get anywhere else. On a student's budget, you strive to still make your place your own by thrifting as much decor as possible. Meeting your quiet and somewhat secretive neighbor, James, you gain some free labor to help you move the random stuff you buy, and with that he may be growing to love parts of the modern world he has been missing. With you in a big, new city feeling alone for the first time and Bucky wanting to make a connection with someone other than Sam and his therapist, maybe online marketplaces and a turntable will bring you both what you need most.

warnings: mild language

word count: 4.7k

a/n: this is my first time EVER writing fiction, usually I only ever write academic papers so this is fun. :) I read over and revised this chapter so many times, so I hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed and I'm excited to start on the next chapter.

a/n: also!! sorry for it being so long genuinely just so much had to happen in this chapter for it to be set up the way I wanted, which I think I did well enough. lmk what you think <3

Why did I think carrying this by myself was a good idea? It might be cute and a great deal, but I don’t think I'll be able to feel my arms tomorrow. I might need to hit the gym again before I find more bargains like this. Hell, maybe I'll even invest in a neck towel, because this heat is unbearable. I’ve been searching for some larger pieces to fill my apartment, and this vintage bar cart should fit perfectly. Just five more blocks to go.

Moving here alone has certainly come with its challenges: being on my own in such a big city, dealing with a lot of stress, and managing on a tight budget. But I’m determined to make it work though and prove everyone wrong. Growing up, you see so many romcoms where the heroine leaves everything behind to chase her dreams in NYC, landing a job at a magazine or fashion house, living in a gorgeous high-rise, and meeting the perfect guy. It’s a beautiful fantasy really, but the reality is much tougher. New York isn’t a movie set; it’s a real city with real people, and you have to work just as hard, if not harder, to be here. I know that, but it feels like a majority of my people back home DON’T know that I know that.

I came here for school. In about two months, I’ll be starting my Master’s program at NYU. I don’t think I’ve ever been as proud as when I received my acceptance email. I worked my ass off in undergrad to earn strong recommendations and good academic standing, and seeing it all come together was a huge relief—until the reality of the cost hit me.

Luckily, a friend's dad has a connection with a landlord in Brooklyn and got me a good deal on a place of my own. It’s incredible not to have a roommate in this market, especially in a place where your bed doesn’t touch your stove, though it can be a bit lonely.

Finally, reaching the stoop, out of breath, you set the cart down on the pavement. Wiping your brow, you notice the street is unusually quiet for this time of day. The city never truly sleeps, but the residential streets seem to take occasional naps. A little breath of air somewhere where it feels like oxygen is running out sometimes. Light filters through the trees, momentarily blinding you, and you turn back toward the building.

“How on earth am I going to get this up to my floor?”

Carrying it down the street was one thing, but hauling it up the stairs is a whole different challenge. Plus, who knows when the building's maintenance has last been here, the steps might not hold up under the cart’s weight. They usually feel like they could give away holding one person.

Deciding that falling to your death and being crushed isn’t really how you want to go, you open the double doors and drag the cart into the lobby, using the wheels on one side. Passing the main desk where the worker, who looks completely uninterested, engrossed in a crossword puzzle, you make your way to the end of the hall and start pulling the cart backwards up the incline of the stairwell.

“Nah, I can’t,” you say aloud, after struggling up two floors, letting the cart rest on the landing. There’s still three more floors to go, but your body is clearly telling you the cart belongs right here. Maybe the universe wants it to stay here—who knows, maybe the entire second floor needs a communal bar more than you do.

“Excuse me,” a quiet but rough male voice comes from behind me. You turn around to see him—a guy you’ve seen around your floor a few times, though you’ve never talked. One of the neighbors. You quickly realize you’re blocking the entire staircase.

“Sorry! Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I’ll move this um — just give me a second.”

You shove the cart closer to the wall to make some space for him to pass, but he stays put, his gloved hands in his pockets. He’s definitely handsome—tall and solid, but not intimidating. His furrowed brow and tight-lipped expression don’t exactly scream “welcome,” but he’s still got a certain charm.

He shifts a bit, clearly wanting to say something but hesitating. Feeling a bit awkward under his gaze, you decide to try talking to him again.

“You can just squeeze by if you want. It’s just really heavy, so I’m taking a quick break before I try lifting it up again.”

After a moment, he seems to make up his mind and asks, “Do you need help?”

Looking back at him, you consider saying no. You pride yourself on being independent and capable, and part of you wants to insist you can handle it. But then you think about the struggle of getting the cart up the last two flights of stairs—only this time, it's three—and decide against it.

“You wouldn’t mind? You’re headed down, I’m sure you’ve got somewhere else to be.”

He gives a little smirk that makes you feel a bit dizzy.

“Well, I’m already here so.”

You nod slowly, a small smile appearing on your face.

“Sure, you can take this end, and I’ll get this o—” you start to say, but before you can finish, he’s already in front of you, lifting the cart with ease and starting up the stairs without breaking a sweat.

“Hey! Be careful, uh—,” you pause, realizing you don’t know his name.

He picks up on your hesitation and hesitates himself, considering whether to give his name. He’s wary of how others might perceive him, potentially recognizing his name from past news broadcasts or papers, still dealing with the shadows of his past despite his efforts to make amends. Not wanting to be dishonest, he chooses the safe option.

“James.”

“Be careful, James. I don’t want you tripping and falling on my account.”

“Won’t happen, doll.”

“What-,” you start, caught off guard by the pet name, “what if it does?”

“It won’t, see?” With the last few steps, you and James arrive at your floor. “Already here.”

He must have seen you around before too, to know where you live.

He gives you a quick look and then carries the cart to your door.

“This is yours, right?” He turns and looks at you expectantly. You rush over, fumbling for your keys to unlock the door. If he’s willing to move it all the way, who are you to turn him down?

You lead James into your apartment, wondering if it looks anything like his. The layout can’t be that different; it’s not exactly a luxury building.

He strolls further into the room.

“You can set it right here,” you say quickly. “Thank you for bringing it up for me. I was honestly thinking about giving up when you showed up.”

Setting the cart where you indicated, he straightens up, rolls his shoulders back, and gives you a look that feels intense.

“It’s no problem.”

His gaze wanders around your apartment, taking in the mix of vintage furniture and eclectic decor. On a student’s budget, you’ve filled your space with secondhand finds. It’s more affordable and personal that way. The place might not be filled with new things, but it’s entirely curated by you. Finding beauty in the mix of old and new is something you do well, and now, thanks to James, you have one more piece to add.

James’s eyes land on your turntable setup. He seems intrigued by your collection of records but doesn’t say anything, turning his attention back to you.

“I have to go.”

Your eyebrows lift at his abruptness. Sensing your surprise, he quickly adds, “I’ve got an appointment.”

You nod vigorously, urging him to go and thanking him again for his kindness. Feeling a bit sad that this chance encounter with your new neighbor is ending so quickly, you call out as he heads for the door.

“I’ll see you around then? Since you live here too.”

He turns on his heel, giving you one last smirk.

“Yeah, you’ll see me.”

As he heads down the stairs, you shut your door and lock it behind you. Wandering over to where James’s gaze lingered, you pull an album from the shelf, lift the acrylic cover on your turntable, and set the record down. You close the cover, push play, and let the needle softly drop onto the vinyl. As the music starts, your mind drifts back to James.

Embarrassingly, you find yourself hoping this isn’t a one-time encounter. You don’t know much about him beyond his name, but there’s something about him that makes you want to see him again.

“Two hundred bucks for this is crazy,” you mutter to yourself, staring in disbelief at the sofa you’re eyeing on Facebook Marketplace.

“People are practically giving this stuff away.”

Not wanting to miss out on such a good deal, you message the seller to check if it’s still available.

Since you got the bar cart about a week and a half ago, you haven’t picked up anything else. With the July heat blasting, just thinking about moving a sofa in this weather makes you want to rip off your skin to cool down.

You can’t help but think of James, who you’ve seen briefly in the hallway since your last encounter. He just nodded as he passed by, and that was it.

Your phone dings, snapping you out of your thoughts. The seller confirms the sofa is still available and offers to deliver it since they have a truck.

Excited, you reply with a yes, and they let you know they’ll head your way soon.

You get up to rearrange your furniture, making space for the new sofa. You don’t have much to move since you’ve been slowly collecting things. As you shift the pieces around, your turntable stops, signaling it’s time to flip the record. After you do, you take a moment to picture how the sofa will fit in the space.

Then it hits you—moving a sofa is way heavier than the bar cart. If you struggled with that, how on earth will you manage this?

“Independent woman, my ass.”

With the delivery imminent, you decide on the only solution you can think of. Without hesitation, you head to the apartment across the hall and knock softly on the door. You wait, hoping James will answer. After a moment of shuffling and then silence, you start to wonder if you should just try something else.

Just then, the door cracks open, revealing half of James’s face. He looks curious but not annoyed—no one usually visits him.

“Hey! James! Great to see you again! I hope I’m not interrupting anything, but I was wondering if you could help me out a bit? I just bought a sofa from this marketplace deal, and the seller’s coming to drop it off right now. He said he’d deliver it, but didn’t offer to help get it up to my apartment. I realized a sofa is way heavier than a bar cart, and you saw me struggle with that, so I was kinda sorta hoping you could help me bring it up here?”

After your rambling, you offer him a hopeful smile, waiting for his response.

A few moments of silence later, that smirk you’ve been missing appears on his face. Opening the door wider, he comments with a grin.

“You bought another thing you knew you couldn’t get up the stairs?”

“I honestly didn’t think it through. The deal was too good to pass up. I’m really sorry for bothering you. I can try to find someone else if you’re busy.”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t help, doll.”

The smile that blooms on your face is unavoidable.

As the delivery guy drives away, James shows you where to grab the sofa and effortlessly lifts the other end. He encourages you to take the lead, making sure the weight is on him as you both navigate the stairs. With minimal effort, you get the sofa up to your place.

After some awkward maneuvering, you finally get the sofa into your apartment through the thin door and set it down. You put your hands on your hips and exhale deeply, only to find James already looking at you with that same intense gaze from before. It makes you a little nervous.

You can’t help but feel grateful—there’s no way you would have managed this on your own.

“I could have handled the bar cart,” you say, nodding toward the cart now adorned with bottles in the corner, “but this? No chance. Thanks so much for your help.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he replies. “I wasn’t busy.”

As you look at him, you start to feel like you know him from somewhere beyond being just a neighbor. Maybe you’ve seen him around the city before you moved?

Brushing off the thought, you offer, “You’ve helped me out twice now, and it doesn’t feel right not to return the favor. If your whole evening consists of not being busy, why not stay for dinner? I promise I’ll cook something totally good and not poisonous.”

James looks surprised by your offer but quickly hides it.

“You don’t need to do that. You don’t owe me anything,” he says, not wanting you to feel obligated or uncomfortable. He worries that his presence might not be enjoyable.

He wishes he could be as charming as he was back in the 40s. Being friendly used to come easily, and if he were still the same person he was at 26, he wouldn’t have left so quickly after helping you on the stairs the first time. He wouldn’t have had a therapists appointment to go to and he wouldn’t have a hidden arm made of metal. He’d have asked you to dinner or for you to let him take you dancing instead in return for his brawn. Now, he struggles to make new connections beyond a few familiar faces, like Sam, and asking someone for a dance feels out of reach.

“No, no! Stay, I insist! It gets kind of lonely around here, doesn’t it? Why not have a friend dinner?” you press, hoping he’ll take you up on the offer.

Seeing your sincerity, though still feeling a bit miffed, he finally agrees.

“Yeah, sure. I can stay.”

James settles onto the sofa while you work in the kitchen. You’ve decided on making some stuffed ravioli and garlic bread—easy, delicious, hard to mess up.

Before getting into cooking, you switch out the record, letting new music drift softly through the space. Unbeknownst to you, James watches closely, paying attention to how you handle the records and the turntable. The care you take when putting a record back in its slip, taking a new one out of its dust cover, and gently putting it on.

Seeing you focused on cooking, James gets up and strolls over to your setup. He runs his fingers lightly across the spines of the record sleeves, feeling a surprising sense of comfort. He hadn’t realized people still used record players so often.

The setup looks quite familiar to him, with many aspects reminiscent of the record players he used back in his earlier days. In his life before this one.

As you finish preparing the pasta and pull the bread from the oven, you call out, “Hey, food’s ready!”

You glance back to see James hovering by the turntable. He quickly moves to the table and sits down.

Over dinner, the conversation flows comfortably. James seems to be relaxing a bit, his initial reserve fading. He’s still somewhat guarded, but what he does share is genuinely interesting. You sense that opening up is challenging for him, so you respect his pace and take whatever he is willing to give. Laughing with each other a few times and getting through some odd topics, he mentions that he hasn’t had a home-cooked meal in quite a while and thanks you with a smile.

After a pleasant dinner, you decide to bring up something you’d been curious about.

“You like records?”

Caught off guard by the question, James tries to answer without revealing too much about himself. It feels strange to be here, knowing you don’t really know who he is, but he worries that being too open might scare you away. He decides to keep his secrets for now, selfishly hoping to get to know you better before revealing more.

“Yeah, I used to have quite a few records as a kid. My ma would play them too, especially when she was cooking, just like you. I didn’t realize they were still so popular.”

Excited by this glimpse into his past, you push further.

“Oh, there’s definitely a huge market for vinyl. Lots of people who think it makes them superior, but also a lot who just love the physical aspect of it.”

“So which one are you?” he asks.

You laugh and reply, “Maybe a bit of both.”

You glance up at him from beneath your lashes, catching his rare smile.

“But really, I just like having it. There’s something different about the listening experience. It requires more effort than just hitting play on a playlist. It’s about choosing a full album and actually sitting down to listen. That feels more intentional to me, and that’s why I do it.”

James seems to ponder your answer, his expression softer than before. He then turns his gaze back to the turntable.

“So, since you mentioned you had records as a kid, do you not have any now?” you ask.

He shakes his head.

“Haven’t had any for a long time. Talking about it makes me miss them. Everything these days feels so complicated. I like simple things like that.”

Watching him as he looks away, you hesitate but notice the nostalgic shine in his eyes. You sense he might appreciate physical music even more than you do.

“If you ever get any and don’t have a place to play them, you’re welcome to use mine.”

He turns to face you, his expression unreadable.

“I mean, I know it’s not the most convenient offer, but it’s there. One record lover to another,” you add with a smile.

He returns your smile, saying, “Okay… thank you. I’ll keep that in mind, Doll.”

That night, Bucky lies on his makeshift bed on the floor, staring up at the ceiling and replaying the events of the day. You knocking on his door for help with the couch, inviting him over for dinner, and all the easygoing conversation you shared. It was such a stark contrast to his usual rigidity. He'd let his guard down just a little—letting himself smile or flirt ever so slightly.

He wishes he were better at this. It used to come so naturally. Hell, before he left for war, he’d gone dancing with both his own date and Steve’s at the same time. Now, he finds himself listening to you talk while struggling to share anything of his own.

He doesn’t want to pass up your invitation, especially since you’re inviting him into your space again. Clearly, his reserve hasn’t put you off too much.

“What would I even bring?” he wonders aloud.

All he’s ever listened to is 40’s music and big band. He doubts that’s readily available these days.

Rolling onto his side, he grabs the cell phone Steve had insisted he get before he went back in time to live his real life, without Bucky.

“You can do anything on here, Buck!”

Scrolling through the three contacts he has, he taps on the name of the guy who’s been trying to reach him for weeks.

“So, is there a valid reason why you haven’t picked up my damn calls?” Sam’s voice comes through.

“Sam, hi.”

“Did you finally learn how to click the screen? Is that why I’m hearing from you now, old man?”

“Look, I’m sorry. I just don’t like the thing. Too confusing,” Bucky says, grimacing as he fiddles with the phone.

“Okay, okay, what’s going on, man? You doing alright?”

“I’m fine. I just have a question and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t harass me about it.”

“Is it about wizards?”

“What?”

“Wizards. Is the question about wizards?”

“No, what the hell. Look, I had dinner with one of my neighbors tonight—”

“Was it a girl?”

“Does it matter?”

“Hell yes, it matters. And from that response, I KNOW it was a girl, so—”

“It doesn’t matter. She has a record player, which I didn’t know people still used, and she offered to let me use it, but I don’t have anything to play on it.”

“I’m not getting the problem.”

“I only like the stuff from the 40’s and—”

“Did you listen to that Marvin Gaye playlist I sent you?”

“Not interested.”

“C’mon, man, it’s good stuff. Give it a listen.”

“Not feeling it.”

“Alright, your loss, I guess. Still not seeing the problem though.”

“What do I bring? I can’t just bring around the stuff I know because where would I even get it?”

“Whoa, man, what do you mean, where would you get it? Just go to a record store and hit up the vintage section or something.”

Bucky pauses, mulling over Sam’s words.

“They have that?”

“Duh. You know, you could answer these questions a lot easier if you just looked them up on your phone—”

“Thanks, Sam. Talk to you later.”

Lying back down, Bucky decides that the next time he’s out to see his therapist, he’ll first stop by a record store to find something to bring over to your place.

Your easygoing presence was so comforting, and he found himself longing for it as he drifted off to sleep. He’d see you again soon enough.

Later in the week, as you wind down from a busy day, you focus on making your space as calming as possible.

You light some candles and turn on an orange floor lamp, the soft glow wrapping around you and setting the perfect mood to sink into your sofa with the book you’ve been neglecting.

You’ve just started settling into your reading when you’re jolted out of your half-nap by the sound of someone knocking on your door.

You get up and peer through the peephole, and there’s your dinner guest from earlier in the week.

Opening the door with a smile, you greet him.

“Hey James, unexpected visit! What’s up?”

His eyes linger on you for a moment before he speaks. You glance down and realize your outfit—shorts that really lived up to their name and a tank top—might not be the most guest-appropriate.

Brushing off your embarrassment, you look back up at him.

“I’ve got something I’d like to play, if that’s alright?”

Bucky’s mind races. Standing at your door, he worries maybe you only offered your place to be nice, and now he’s making a fool of himself. Of course, you didn’t want him there—he could barely talk.

Just as he’s about to get lost in his own head, your bright smile pulls him out of it.

“Oh my gosh, please, come in. What do you have?”

His doubt fades away as he sees your genuine excitement.

“Brought some Sinatra. Not sure if you’re into that, but I used to like his stuff when I was younger.”

You spin around abruptly, staring at him in disbelief.

“There’s no way you think I don’t know who Frank Sinatra is…”

Bucky stumbles over his words.

“Well, I mean, it’s not exactly new stuff so—”

“You think I wouldn’t know ‘Fly Me to the Moon’? ‘Singin’ in the Rain’? ‘New York, New York’? I mean, I even moved to New York—I had to get the romanticism from somewhere.”

“What are those?”

You pause, confused.

“Like, the most iconic Frank Sinatra songs. You are talking about Frank Sinatra, right? Not some other Sinatra I’ve never heard of?”

“No, you’re right, it’s Frank.”

“Then what do you mean?”

“I guess I don’t know those ones.” He admits.

“So, what era are we talking about?” You ask, reaching for the record.

As you grasp the sleeve, you notice a glint of light catching James’s bare hand. Realizing he’s not wearing gloves, confusion sets in before it clicks. You HAD seen James before.

Looking up at him, he seems frozen, obviously panicking. He planned to tell you eventually, but not like this. Not when you weren’t close enough yet.

He thought there is no way you are going to want anything to do with him now.

You thought there is no way was there's an actual Avenger in your apartment right now.

You’re frozen, just like him, but more in shock rather than fear.

“Do you… usually go by James?” you ask cautiously.

Hesitating, he shakes his head.

“What do you usually go by then?”

Bucky feels anxiety creeping up his back. You’re both still holding the record, and he can’t tell if you’re scared or just surprised.

“Bucky.”

You stay silent for a moment while Bucky’s nerves are on edge.

“So… metal hand…”

Clenching his jaw, he replies, “Arm.”

“You’re that Bucky.”

“Yes.”

After a long pause, you start again.

“You’re an Avenger and you didn’t tell me?”

Bucky hesitates, his discomfort visible. “I’m— I’m not an Avenger.”

“What do you mean? You’re totally an Avenger! Why wouldn’t you tell me? How did I not recognize you before?” you ask, laughing in disbelief.

Bucky’s taken aback. You really thought he was an Avenger? You’re not scared of him at all, which surprises him. You must not know much about his past if you’re still standing this close.

“No wonder you don’t know ‘New York, New York,’” you say, almost to yourself. “It’s from after your time! This is crazy, I—”

You’re interrupted by his response.

“Are you not scared?”

“Of course not.”

Bucky closes in on himself, panic evident. “If you really knew me, you’d want nothing to do with me. I’ve—”

“I might not know the version of you you’re talking about, but I’ve met James, who helped me not once, but twice  carry stuff he definitely didn’t have to up the stairs, stayed for dinner, has been very polite to me, and has given me zero reasons to be scared of him.”

He looks at you, his piercing blue eyes revealing an internal struggle. That one look holds more weight than his words. You can see the battle within him, torn between his past and the present moment.

“Listen,” you say, finally letting go of the record, “if you don’t want to stay, you don’t have to. But I’m not scared of you, and I actually like your company. So, regardless of whether you’re James, Bucky, or whoever, you’re still welcome here.”

You pause, adding, “And we can still play this if you’d like.”

Bucky struggles with his inner turmoil. The idea that you know who he is but still want him around is foreign to him. He doesn’t feel worthy of the kindness you’re offering, but it’s been so long since he’s received such warmth that it’s almost impossible to turn it down.

He’s not comfortable with his identity or his past, but in this moment, he wants to push it aside. If you don’t care, maybe he can allow himself not to care, even if just for a bit. Maybe he can prove something to himself, or even his therapist.

Handing you the record, he relaxes his face slightly. You’ve always thought him handsome, but in the dim light of the dark room, he looks almost ethereal.

You’re hoping he believes you because your excitement for his company tonight feels more significant than it probably should, but you’re okay with that.

“I’m Bucky.”

You smile warmly at this change. “Alright, Bucky. What do you want to do?”

He gazes at you deeply, his look sending a shiver down your spine and warming your chest. “Play it.”

a/n: well, hope this was alright. as I mentioned before, ive never wrote fiction before, but ive definitely read enough to get the gist.

[viivenn]

making an important announcement about some things i’ve noticed in the gwendoline christie fandom that really bug me.

disclaimer: read this at your own convenience and discretion. i am not responsible for any sort of hurt feelings and frankly… i don’t care. if you’re mad about this, you are probably the problem. /lh

to start with id like to begin on a positive note so that i’m not diving into negativity, i don’t want to be completely negative about my experiences because i’ve actually met some of the kindest people in the world through this fan base.

the gwen fandom, the gwandom, the gwendoline christie fandom , the lesbian cesspool, has been an incredible experience that i’m grateful i’ve had the pleasure of being apart of.

i went through a rough patch during november, and if i hadn’t found out about gwen, or met such wonderful people during my time here , i honestly wouldn’t be here right now. i owe my life to these people, gwen included. i will forever adore miss christie and what she stands for alongside the friends i’ve made along the way.

and while i know someday this hyperfix will end, it’s really disheartening to me when a fandom is what makes me grow distant from things i enjoy. it happened before, i feel as though it is happening all over again.

and no, i’m not taking issue with anything like the catrissa stuff or the brienne and larissa ship going around or anything like that. i like that we can all be weird together and enjoy aus like catrissa and crackships like bririssa (not sure the official name that was decided lol). my issue is the amount of content i’ve seen that either focuses on gwen herself, or the strange relationship with minors, or the odd artwork of gwen, and the absolute disgusting behaviour towards giles.

gwen would be absolutely appalled seeing fanfictions of herself that involve nsfw or just her in general, anyone would, it’s disgusting to make works of real people in that setting. it’s like you’re treating them as an original character you can mould and manipulate as you see fit and using someone who is real with thought and feeling and consciousness for smut fics is not okay, or any fic in general. i totally get the hype around her characters, i literally have “brienne’s princess” in my bio and i’ve had “jane murdstone’s bloodbag” (in reference to my vamp au) as a name in a discord server.

but i think the fandom has begun to blur the lines between fictional characters and reality settings when it comes to gwen and the personalities she portrays on the television screen. it’s not fair to her. it’s disgusting. i’ve seen a minor do it, i’ve seen a grown adult do it. it’s something i don’t see shamed and frowned upon often enough and it’s really not okay.

on that note i’d like to quickly mention the photos, we alllll know what photos i’m talking about. the bunny one, the nudes, the ones gwen has expressed regret towards and wishes to not have them spread. was there not a “fan” who brought her a book of her nudes and wanted her to sign it? that person who was blocked on instagram by gwen because they reposted her nudes on their story and tagged her???? how can you refer to yourself as a fan after behaving so abhorrently? absolutely disgusting behaviour. as a collective fandom we need to stop touching those photos (metaphorically speaking) and leave them in the past.

i’ve been told of numerous circumstances in which adults have shown their nsfw works to minors in this fandom and it has to fucking stop. it’s disgusting!! how can you do that knowingly? i constantly ponder terminating my account after a minor got ahold of my nsfw work, and upon realising they WERE a minor it was as simple as blocking and moving on. it’s truly not that hard, folks. and the minors on tiktok who fight with others saying silly things like “that’s my wife” or worse. i’ve seen it all, i feel like, and the more i see it the more sick i become. i cannot stand it.

i have seen and heard of fans who have fat shamed gwen for that one pink dress she wore to the met gala. she looked so happy in that dress, and the audacity one must have to fatshame that poor woman on twitter then turn around and continue to proclaim your ‘love for her’ as if you’d done no wrong? are you fucking serious? are you mental?

and the sexualisation over the porcelain doll look, gods some of you are sick. those were not real breasts, people. considering the fact she wholeheartedly regrets her nude photoshoots , what possesses you to believe she would actually flaunt her chest in that outfit?

the blatant mistreatment of poor giles is not fucking okay either. just because you’re jealous of someone who makes her immensely happy does not give you the right to post something so vile and cruel about him. shame on you. why do you believe this is okay to post:

????????

are you serious? have any of you stopped to consider how HAPPY giles makes her? or is her happiness the last thing you ponder when you look at her? have you even noticed how unhappy she looks lately? have you truly paused to consider how she would feel about seeing this on your page, random twitter user, or the rest of you who think this is okay? bless your hearts.

and some of the absolutely horrific things i’ve seen about her online and the hurtful behaviour towards giles makes me question the difference between a fan and just the general paparazzi. because if you truly loved her and you truly loved giles then i would not be ranting into the fucking void about it for no reason.

i avoid interacting with pages i find problematic on here to keep from stirring the pot but tonight i chose violence and got reeeeeal pissy about how i felt about this place. it’s not okay what i see on here and it’s getting exhausting seeing the same cycle of content on a daily.

that’s everything i have to say, i think. i probably missed a lot that should be discussed in the comments but i’m done for now because i know if i go on i’ll probably cry.

before you post things about real people with real feelings , stop to consider how they will feel those real feelings towards the content you put out. chances are you’ll become less problematic and obnoxious that way. 💘

[lurkingshan]

Japanese QL Corner

We are up to seven live airing QLs from Japan! Five of these are on Gaga and two are being generously provided via fansubs.

A brief interlude for me to climb on my soapbox: if you are a fan of Japanese queer media who is not based in Japan, you really should be supporting GagaOOLala. They are the sole international distributor of most of these shows and the only reason international fans can watch them as they release. They’re a queer-owned Taiwanese company specifically focused on providing international access to global queer media, and their monthly subscription is much cheaper than other streaming services. They’re not perfect but they are quite responsive to feedback about their catalogue and approach; please consider subscribing if you love these shows!

I’m really loving most of these shows and I highly recommend jumping in to the weekly watch!

Takara's Treasure

I fall more in love with these two every week. We finally got some answers on Takara's backstory, and as expected, it is the mother who abandoned him that has been harassing him. Taishin blazed in to give that lady a piece of his mind before even realizing who she was, and it only made Takara love him more. The revelation that Takara is holding back with Taishin because he doesn't want to be covetous like his mother sent me into a bit of a tailspin. I loved Taishin getting his moment to reciprocate Takara's care, as well as Takara's amusement that Taishin still hasn't pieced together what they are to each other. I'm excited for it to finally click for him soon.

Sugar Dog Life

I'll be honest, this first episode did not hit right for me. I always struggle with copaganda heavy romances, especially when the show is intentionally framing cops as benevolent and explicitly linking that to the romantic arc. But I liked the cooking parts of it a lot! We'll see how it proceeds. This one is being fan subbed, so if anyone is having trouble finding it feel free to hit me up in DMs and I'll point you.

Cosmetic Playlover

This one is coming in hot with two episodes a week, because Japan is trying to kill me. I like the concept and vibe but the execution is a bit all over the place; it feels like they want this to be a dark story but aren’t willing to fully commit to that, so dark things happen but then get treated too lightly. The pacing also feels a little wacky and we’re rushing through plot and relationship development in a way that leaves it all feeling a bit ungrounded. Sahashi went from harassing and threatening to out Natsume to kissing and claiming to be serious about him in the space of 15 minutes, and then suddenly in the next ep there’s a new villain and suspense plot. This one is just not clicking; I’m tilting my head with a furrowed brow.

I Hear the Sunspot

Sigh. I really didn’t need another arc about a third party interloper coming between the boys, but here we are. Maya is a throwback to the bad old femme fatale archetype steeped in misogyny and I don’t love it. She’s arrogant, manipulative, and mean for no good reason, and she doesn’t feel like she fits in this story about decent people trying their best. There was a way to do this plot with a more sympathetic portrayal of her, but unfortunately they didn't take that route. I’m disappointed that she’s with us for multiple episodes, and it’s hard to believe this rude little girl can really come between them. I said last week that it felt like they regressed Kohei and Taichi’s relationship in the time skip and I’m feeling that even more now. Aside from this mess, I really liked all of Taichi’s scenes with his friends this week as he continues trying to work out his feelings for Kohei. I hope we get back to Taichi and Kohei spending time together again soon; that’s the real heart of this show and I already miss it.

Ayaka is in Love with Hiroko

Sigh. Last week I was mad at the characters around Hiroko, but this week I am forced to be mad at the show for how it's dealing with this entire plot involving Hiroko's decisions about her privacy at work, Risa's inappropriate interference, and Ayaka's bizarre conclusion that she should announce her love for Hiroko to the whole office. This whole love triangle and forced outing plot was ill-considered and it's dragging the show down; we should not have had Risa being so wrong and manipulative or ventured into queer workplace politics at all if the show wasn't prepared to take it seriously. On the plus side, we finally got the backstory for Hiroko, and it was surprising in a good way. I hope this show can get back to the zany comedy it was doing so well before it got bogged down in all this mess.

Mr. Mitsuya's Planned Feeding

Episode 3 just went up on @isaksbestpillow's blog, and it's a fantastic one. I was howling watching Mitsuya wailing on his ex and poor Ishida trying to process this new rival on the scene. Shige continues to be the MVP and I loved the way he encouraged Ishida with a mix of sage advice and sexy sass (also loved that Mitsyua immediately knew that gossip ratted him out). And I screamed again when Ishida got worked up and confessed; I didn't expect that to happen so fast and it was excellent! This show feels so mature in the best way; I really feel like I'm watching adults who have lived.

Tagging @bengiyo to add the anime update!

[abadbitchblogs]

SOS

Part 1

Pairing: Jey Uso x OC x Damian Priest

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2.6k

a/n: Ya girl is alive y’all! I wanted to revamp this because I felt like y'all deserved more! Thank you to everyone who has supported me and my work. I love y'all!  All likes, comments, reblogs and feedback is greatly appreciated!

-divider by @cafekitsune

Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion as the entire roster hooped and hollered in  celebration of Trin’s return at the Royal Rumble. While shots, champagne and cocktails were being thrown back, all Amirah could do was watch the way her best friend humbly received the love she deserved with tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. It was such a full circle moment for her; comforting Trinity when leaving the company broke her, supporting her decision to join Impact! Wrestling, then experiencing the reception of her homecoming. Watching her fall back into the swing of things like she never left felt so satisfying. Before she could spiral into an emotional breakdown, a large hand waving in her face snapped her out of her thoughts making her scrunch her nose in confusion. “Aye, girl! You good?” Jimmy’s furrowed brows and jutted out bottom lip came into focus, immediately coaxing a laugh out of her. Jimmy was one person that you could count on to lift your spirits without even trying- he was the textbook definition of goofy.

“I'm good, promise!” If he doubted she was telling the truth, the content glimmer in her eyes deterred him from pressing the matter any further. Instead, she looped her arm with his and dragged him back over to their friends where they could enjoy their night out. Plopping down on the sectional next to Trinity, the group of superstars fell into easy conversation catching up with those who are on a different brand as they only see each other during the major PLEs. Somehow the chat turned into the couples pestering the single people; i.e Bayley and Amirah. Bay may have fought to defend herself, but she just found their concern amusing. “Listen. I don't treat being single like a punishment. I love being by myself. I aint gotta worry about nobody cheating on me, nobody resenting me for my career or trying to police my body.” No lies were detected as they all had no choice but to agree. Relationships in their business were hard whether you were with a fellow pro wrestler or a regular person. “Besides, the chances of finding real love like y’all are slim as hell!”

“I know that's right!” Bianca gloated; her and Montez’s reality show was doing so well that they were WWE’s IT couple. Mirah playfully chucked a straw at their girlfriend while Trin, Bay, and Jade were too busy laughing at her EST antics surfacing outside of the ring. “ What about you and Damian? I be seeing y’all posted up looking cozy?” The question got a chorus of ‘oooohs’ from the women, but Bayley  made a face of disgust at her friends’ insinuation. “Girl no. We're just good friends. That man doesn't have a committal bone in his body.” Amirah hummed in affirmation having heard the rumors about Damian Priest and his revolving door of women. “I'm honestly surprised that the two of you aren’t close. He's from New York, you're from New York. He's single and you've sworn off relationships. And I know you like them a little older.” The woman’s jaw dropped at Bayley’s insane attempt at matchmaking. “Girl are you trying to set me up with a sneaky link?” That sent all of the women into another uncontrollable fit of laughter. “You do need some dick.” Trin wheezed out, furthering Amirah’s appalled facial expression before she swatted her best friend’s arm. “You know what? I’m out of here.” A laugh bubbled out of her as she stood dramatically from their huddle only to turn and lock eyes with Jey Uso.

There he was hugging his twin with his chocolate orbs boring into her chestnut ones. Spinning on her heel,  she suggested the girls go down to the dance floor for a song or two. “Come on y'all. We can't let this night pass without shaking a lil something.” Clasping Trinity’s hands, she pulled her to her feet then tugged her towards the stairs with a “We’re going downstairs to dance for a little bit, Jim,” thrown over her shoulder. They scurried by without waiting for a response although she knew Jimmy and Montez were going to follow them anyway to keep an eye on the group. One of the things that Amirah and Trinity bonded over was their love of music and dance with both of them being former dancers. As much as Jimmy hated it when Trin showed her ass, he was going to have to suck it up tonight because they were owed some time to let loose. All that is holy must've been on their side because as soon as they made it to the center of the dancefloor, Twerk by the City Girls and Cardi B blared on the speakers. “Come on, Trin! Lemme see something!” It was always fun to get Trin and Bianca to cut up because Trin was going to kill it every time but Bianca had no damn rhythm. The club was playing banger after banger after banger after banger. If they weren't professional athletes, their feet and edges would be shot to hell. Amirah was throwing her ass back on Trinity, both of them cackling at Jade and Bayley trying to show B how to catch the beat when the tempo slowed to a ballad.  Of course it was a song that a nigga always dedicated to her to make her feel special and now it pissed her off.

This is for you, you, my number one This is for you, you, my number one Oh, yeah, yeah-yeah This is for you, you, my number one

Sucking her teeth as Jimmy giddily cut in for a slow dance with his wife, Mirah cut through the crowd to head back to their section for another drink when she bumped into the only person she did not want to see. His grills seemed to glow in the low light of the club but before he could get a word out, she took a sharp left in search of the restroom. A wave of nausea crawled through her body and she needed to gather herself after coming in contact with that parasite. Just when her hand grasped the doorknob of the ladies room for a moment of solitude, a large hand engulfed her other wrist pausing her movements. “Mirah…” She didn’t even need to turn around to know who the trifling ass voice belonged to. Calmly snatching her wrist from his hold, she shifted her weight to one foot with a snarl etched on her gloss coated lips. “I’m sorry. Do we know each other?” Jey’s eyes softened at her faux confusion as he took a step toward her and her, taking a step back to keep space between them. “Mirah, come on. I just wanna talk to you. I wanna explain myself.” His pleading only made the bile in her throat rise, making her face twist in disgust. 

“Nigga, you should’ve thought about talking to me before you just cut me off like I was some random bitch.” Her words dripped with malice in hope of it being enough to get him to leave her alone. “We ain’t got shit to talk about as far as I’m concerned.” Shoulder checking him as she walked by, not even wanting to be in the same building as him, Jey fought the urge to reach out to her again. He knew getting her to talk to him would be near impossible, but he was determined. Amirah was worth taking accountability and uncomfortable conversations. 

Amirah shuffled through the sea of bodies on the dance floor to find her friends and wish them a goodnight. Trinity spotted the agitated look on her best friend’s face immediately even though she tried to plaster a smile over it. “What happened, boo?” Trin’s brows furrowed in worry only to have Mirah wave it off. “Nothing! I’m good. I’m just going to call it night. That liquor ain’t sitting right in my stomach.” The lie came out faster than she could even register, but it wasn’t a total lie. That bastard did indeed make her sick to her stomach. “Oh okay! We’ll go back with you. I wanna make sure you’re okay.” Gesturing for Jimmy to come over to the two of them, Amirah shook her head in protest. “Hell no. You stay and keep celebrating. You deserve it! I’ll be fine! I already called an Uber and I’ll text you when I’m back in my room.” Pulling her bestie into a tight embrace, she gave her a fat kiss on the cheek before moving to hug their group of friends goodbye. Much to her delight, no one questioned her sudden decline of health too much, just the request of a text message to let them know when she got back to the hotel. With a promise that she would text them as soon as she got in, Mirah flew to the exit of the club like a bat out of hell. 

Sucking in a breath of fresh air, the feeling of relief washed over her soothing the queasiness that plagued her. The Florida streets were surprisingly peaceful at night, allowing her to fully collect herself and actually call an Uber so she just wasn’t standing outside of the club like a lame. As she pulled her phone out of her black purse, the club’s doors opened once more flooding the silence with music. A tap on her shoulder made her slap a friendly smile on her face in case it was a fan wanting an autograph or a picture. But, it was neither and her smile morphed into one of shock when she came face to face with Señor Money in the Bank. Damian was dark and broody so she did not expect to see him at a nightclub, but if his reputation precedes him then he was here for a woman- or two. “Señor Money in the Bank. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Wiping the shock off her face, she mirrored his playful and dare she say- flirty smirk. “Well I was by the bar when I saw you rush out so I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” Feigning surprise, Amirah placed a hand over her heart and cooed at his sweet gesture. “Wait until everyone finds out that Señor Playboy is a gentleman.”

Her teasing pulled a chuckle out of him as he cocked a brow in question. “Playboy huh?” “Mhmm I’ve heard about you.” Laughing once more, Damian accepted defeat but pushed for info on his supposed playboy reputation. “So you’ve been asking about me?” Zeroing in on Amirah’s smaller frame with his almost charcoal gaze, it was her turn to laugh. “You wish.”  His smile broadened at her bratty comeback before he very noticeably gave her a once over. “¡Te ves hermosa.” Damian’s eyes met hers again with his gravelly voice scratching her brain deliciously. Maybe Bayley was right; he was fun. “Oh I know.” Mirah shot down his suave Spanish approach smugly, crossing her arms over her chest. “¿Hablas español?” “No, but you pick up a few things when you live in Harlem for a while.” 

Both intrigued and amused by the other superstar’s answer, Damian vowed to get to know her better in any capacity. “You know I was actually heading back to the hotel myself. Why don’t we share a ride? Uber is already on the way.” After contemplating getting in a car with him, Amirah pointed an accusatory finger at him. “If you insist, BUT no funny business.” Raising his hands in mock surrender, he flashed another cheek numbing smile at her. “Promise. Cross my heart and hope to die.” Slapping his chest for his dramatics, she couldn’t help her own snicker which he ate all the way up. 

Their Uber pulled up two minutes later and like the gentleman he was, Damian had helped her climb into the truck before getting in after she was comfortable. “So do you still live in New York?” He pried quietly while they enjoyed their ride back to the hotel. “Sure do.” She replied proudly, watching the palm trees go by as the car rolled on. “Me too. Maybe we could be travel partners.” Humming in thought, she turned to him with a soft smile. “Yeah maybe. I don’t know how often I can be seen with you in public though before people start talking.” He chortled at the woman’s response before giving his own, “Fair enough.” The rest of their car ride was occupied with a game of 21 questions about themselves and their interests outside of wrestling. Coming to a stop outside of the hotel, the pair thanked the driver for his service and Damian exited the car first on the other side to come around and help her out. She could only laugh to herself about him turning on the charm heavily. When they entered the elevator, Mirah noticed that the taller man didn’t press a button for his floor so she shot him a quizzical look. “What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t walk you to your door?” 

With a playful eyeroll she muttered a ‘whatever’ and let the space fill with a comfortable silence. At least she’d be able to get up early for a workout and the night turned out… interesting. A ding broke both of them out of their thoughts as they shuffled off the elevator on the 14th floor. Amirah could feel his eyes studying the swing of her hips while she led him to her room. Abruptly stopping at her door, Damian almost crashed into the back of her too focused on how she managed to walk in those killer shoes effortlessly. “This is me.” She stated, leaning against her door curious to see how the night would end. “Well I think my job here is done. You have arrived safely.” “That reminds me.” Before her friends put out an APB for her, she texted in their group chat that she had mad it back to her room. “Thank you for the escort. I appreciate it.” “It was my pleasure and if you don’t mind,” Damian carefully slid her phone into his hand and input his number. “You know in case I can be of service to you again.” Peering at him through squinted eyes she gave him a drawn out nod. “Riiiiiiiiight.” 

Smirking down at her for the last time, he gently took her hand and raised it to his lips for a kiss on her knuckles while gazing into her cocoa colored eyes. “M’lady, I bid you farewell.” And with that, he turned on his heel and disappeared down the hall in long strides. Entering her hotel room and shutting the door behind her, Amirah collapsed against the door like women in romcoms. Girl what the fuck just happened. Taking in another deep breath, she headed to the bathroom for a much needed shower and to wring her damn panties out. Wait until she tells the girls about what just happened. Before she climbed into the shower to wash off the scent of booze, lust and worn leather, she shot the mysterious man a text of what she meant to say before he left her utterly speechless. 

{Princesa: Goodnight 🖤}

{Papi Chulo: Buenas noches hermosa 🖤}

mirrormirah

mirrormirah Your favorite athlete's favorite athlete 🖤

Liked by archerofinfamy, trinity_fatu and 482,719 others

View all 25,826 comments

trinity_fatu THAT'S MY FRIEND 🥳

⤿ mirrormirah BEST FRIEND!!!! get it right!

biancabelairwwe the finEST

⤿ mirrormirah That's all you bby ❤️

theyluvjeannie80 I know that's right !!!!!

⤿ mirrormirah I luv you boo 😘

archerofinfamy 😈

⤿ mirrormirah 🥰

⤿ bossglowstandard oop 👀👀

jadecargill sexy af 🥵

⤿ mirrormirah trying to get like you 😋

Taglist:

@empressdede @wrestlingprincess80 @whatdoeseverybodywant @alichesmi @reci1996 @2-muchsauce @cyberdejos2 @southerngirl41 @brie-mode-activated @piinklemonad3 @lucidddreamerrr

[bbrissonn]

𝐚𝐥𝐥-𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 - 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐢

summary: in which no matter how much you tried, you were never good enough for him and you decide it was time for things to get messy within the hockey team

disclaimer: english is not my first language and this is not proofread so please excuse any errors and if any words are missing add them in your head :) also this is a work of fiction, this doesn’t reflect how these boys act in real life, and it isn’t how i imagine them acting 

warnings: angst, swearing , not proofread  

pairing: luca fantili x reader

wc: 5.4k (including lyrics)

a/n: i gave some guys on the team a girlfriend, completely random name so don't go trying to find them lol

guts masterlist

I am light as a feather, I’m as stiff as a board

I pay attention to things that most people ignore

And I’m alright with the movies

That make jokes ‘bout senseless cruelty, that’s for sure

And I am built like a mother and a total machine

I feel for your every little issues, I know just what you mean

And I make light of the darkness

I’ve got sun in my motherfuckin’ pocket, best believe

Yeah, you know me, I

You tried, you really did. You took note of every little things he’d mention, hoping that it would be useful in the long run, hoping he’d noticed how much you cared about him. You waited and waited and waited, but it never happened. All the efforts you made to be the perfect girlfriend for him always went unnoticed, brushed to the side. 

You always made sure you looked your best whenever you’d go to his game, wanting to fit the role of the stereotype hockey girlfriend, even though you were far from it. Your body wasn’t as slim and fit as the others and you didn’t have a model like face, but Luca always though you were perfect. You didn’t believe most of time, there were hundreds of girl, prettier girls, that would jump at the occasion to be his girlfriend, so why had he chosen you? 

You went to every single home game, even if it’d meant you’d have to stay up late to do homework, you even went to the games at Michigan State. You were always there to support him, but he was never there for you. You knew it was hard for him to always be free, not having access to his phone for a solid three hours during the afternoon, and when he’d get back to his dorm, he’d fall asleep right away. You never really saw him much during the days, with him having all his classes in the morning, while yours were mainly in the afternoon, nights were the only time you could see each other. 

Even when you spent time together, it was rarely alone. He was close to all his teammates and apparently spending all afternoon together wasn’t enough for them and they always needed to spend their nights together. You two barely ever got alone time, but you tried not to think about it too much since Luca was always more focused on you than his teammates sprawled around his shared dorm room. 

His teammates liked you, you were nice to all of them the moment you met them and they could see how much Luca liked you. Some of them didn’t really understand what he saw in you, something you wish you didn’t know as you overheard them one night during a get together at the senior house. 

You had been outside for a while now, talking to your mom on the phone as you walked around the small backyard of the senior house. Luca was with you for the first couple of minutes of your call, talking to your mom a bit before heading back inside and letting you have alone time with her. As you started making your way back to the backdoor, you saw a couple of figures standing there, nothing unsual. You were planning on just walking past them, smiling at them and letting them go along with their conversation until you heard your name. 

“Wait, who are we talking about again?” Dylan asked the others, before taking a sip of his beer. 

“Y/n.” You heard Johnny answer, and you stopped dead in your tracks. You knew you shouldn’t, it was wrong, but you couldn’t help it. They couldn’t see you since you were on the side of the porch, and no lights were they, you were like a ghost. 

“Oh, yeah, totally agree with you man. Don’t get me wrong, she’d nice and all, but like she barely ever talks.” The Duke boy said, making a couple other guys agree with him. 

“Exactly, what does he even see in her, anyways?” One of them said, making your smile drop. 

“She’s just shy, doesn’t like big groups, that’s all. Once you get to know her, she’s always talking, it’s great ‘cause Luca leaves me alone now. She’s makes him happy, that’s all the really matters.” You recognized Adam say, making your smile grow a little. Over the last six months, you had grown quite close to your boyfriend’s little brother, and hearing him defend you warmed your heart. 

“Dude, all we’re saying is he could do better.” 

“Whatever, I’m going back inside.” Adam said, and soon you heard the door open and all the figures disappeared. You stood there for a while, thinking about everything that you had heard. Your feelings being hurt a little before shaking it all off and walking back inside, quickly finding your boyfriend, who was standing with his brother. 

You never told Luca, or any of them that you had heard their conversation. You knew Luca would get mad at his teammates, and that was the last thing you wanted. You did realize that after that night, Adam started being even nicer to you, always telling you how happy you made your brother, and how thankful he was that you were the one making him this happy. He truly felt like your own little brother in a way.

But something in you changed that day, whenever you’d be having the smallest interaction with any of them, there would always be a voice in the back of your mind reminding you of that conversation. So, you didn’t make much effort to become good friends with any of them, clearly most of you didn’t even think you should be dating their teammate so why would they want to be friends with you? 

Luca wasn’t exactly happy that you weren’t that close to anyone, but you were with Adam, so he considered it a win. He always reminded himself that just because his teammates were his best friend didn’t mean they had to be yours too, he just happy none of them hated you. 

As time went by, you’d now notice some of the weird looks his teammates would give themselves whenever you’d hug Luca after their game, or when you’d be with him at a party and his arms was always around you. But you didn’t let it bother you, you were happy in your relationship, you didn’t need the opinion of other’s, and honestly, they didn’t really have a right to be judging two people for being in love with one another. 

You didn’t know whether or not your boyfriend knew about how some of his best friends felt about your relationship, but you really hoped he didn’t. If he did, it would break you, that he knew what his friends were saying and thinking, but didn’t defend you like his brother had, or that he hadn’t told you about it. 

That all changed one cold night in February.

You were currently standing outside of the Yost arena, Luca had texted you barely minutes before telling you to go wait outside for him. You didn’t really understand why, considering how cold it was, but you did anyways. No one else was around, all the spectators had left almost an hour ago, and all the other girlfriends were waiting inside, in the warmth of the arena. 

“Hey.” You heard your boyfriends voice, making you turn around with a bright smile. 

“Hi, baby. You played amazing!” You told him, rushing over to his warm body and hiding in his arms. The boy chuckled a bit before wrapping his arms around you. 

“I need to talk to you about something.” He mumbled after a couple of seconds, making you pull away from his body. Your hands reached down to his arms, that had fallen from your shoulders, your mittens covered hands holding his bare ones. 

“What’s up, loves?” You asked, only to be met with a sigh from him. Your smile dropped right away, what was going on? 

“I need you to know that I am sorry, okay?” You nodded slightly, confused as to why he was saying that. “I think it’d be better if we weren’t together anymore.”

“What?” 

“I just- I need to focus on hockey, and school.” 

“Oh.” You whispered, your hands letting go of his and falling next to your body. A heavy sigh left your mouth as you tried your hardest not to cry. “O-okay.” 

“So, we’re good?” His question broke you. Not you weren’t, you were far from good. The boy you had fallen in love with in early September had just broken up with you, how were you supposed to be okay with that?

“We’re good.” You lied. Luca smile brightly before giving you and small hug, and before you knew it, he was gone. You were left all alone outside in the freezing cold as he headed back to his friends, ready to enjoy their night, while you were left heartbroken. 

Maybe his friends were right after all…

Forgive and I forget

I know my age and I act like it

Got what you can’t resist

I’m a perfect all-American

The next week was hell, everywhere you went, you’d see one of his teammates. It was like they had all mutually agreed to just be everywhere you were, follow you around just to make you remember every single second of every day that your relationship with Luca was over. 

But clearly he hadn’t even told him, the text from Adam asking if you two had gotten into a fight since you hadn’t been to their dorm in a couple of days, and Luca was talking about everything but you. Your feelings were hurt a little, that he wasn’t even acting like your break-up fazed him at all, like everything in his life was perfect. It hurt even more that you had to be the one to break to news to his brother, scared that Adam would choose to break off all links of communication the two of you had. 

Luckily for you, he didn’t, if anything, to him it just gave you an extra reason to become even closer to him. He knew how much you loved his brother and how much Luca loved you, so he truly didn’t understand why his older brother had done it in the first place. Just because you and Luca weren’t together anymore, didn’t mean you had to lose him too, were his exact words. You knew in that moment that you had a real friend in Adam, one that you wanted to keep for the rest of your life. 

You hadn’t gone to any hockey game after that, no matter how much Adam begged, you weren’t ready to go back to the place where your relationship ended. But when the team had made it to the semi-finals of the big ten championship, facing off again Ohio State, you knew you had to be there. Even though you weren’t physically at the games, you were still watching from home, your heart dropping every time Luca’s name would be mentioned. 

Being back felt weird, it was a place you had grown so fond off, watching your boyfriend and your so-called friends play the sports they love with each other, befriending all the other girlfriends, it was truly special. But it was so different now, you felt like you didn’t belong here anymore. Adam had tried to convince you to seat in the same seat Luca always had for you, but you didn’t want to, not wanting to face all the other girlfriends yet. 

You came with your best friends, so you wouldn’t be alone, and made sure to be near the back rows, you knew the boys always liked to spot people in the crowds, and you didn’t want them to know you were here. You had made Adam promise not to tell anyone you were here, and that you’d wait for him after the game in your car all the way at the end of the parking lot. He was the only one on the team you wanted to see tonight, you came here for him and only him, and because your best friends wouldn’t shut up about going. 

Unknown to you, Luca had spotted you the minute he stepped onto the ice. He hated to admit it, but his eyes still searched for you in the crowd, only he was always met with disappointment when he would not find you. Tonight was different, you were here. Part of him felt like he should be happy you were, or even sad, seeing as it was the first he’d seen you since the break-up. But he wasn’t, no he was angry. Why? He didn’t know. 

After the game ended, with Adam getting two goals and two assists, your friends had gone home right away, tired from all the yelling they had done during the night. So, you waited alone in your car, making sure to park right under a street light so Adam could spot you easily, and so you could see if any weirdos were approaching. 

Luca had left before his brother, Johnny and Gavin walking next to him as they walked out of Yost, and that’s when he saw your car. He knew he should’ve just ignored it, kept walking home, but he couldn’t. He knew you were here for his brother and him only, Adam had told him after Luca corned him after the warm ups. The right thing was to just leave you alone, pretend he didn’t see you, but his legs were moving faster than his brain was. 

The loud knock on your window made you jump, yelping at bit at the sound. You looked to your left, only to be met with an angry Luca. You bit your lip slightly before rolling down your window enough so you two could hear each other. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He asked. His tone was harsh and mean, something you had never heard from him before. 

“I am here for Adam, so if you don’t mind, I’d like for you to step away from my car and leave me alone.” You answered him, matching his tone. If he wanted to be a bitch to you after he broke up with you, then he better be expecting the same energy back. 

“You shouldn’t be here.” 

“And who are you to be telling me this? Last time I checked, this is a public parking lot, so I have every right to be here.” You said, you knew that wasn’t what he meant, but you didn’t care. He had no right to walk over here, and talk to you like this. 

“You know that’s not what I fucking meant.” 

“Am I not allowed to cheer for my school? Is that illegal now, Luca?” You said harshly. Luca’s eyes were staring into yours, and you could tell he was holding back from yelling, which scared you a little. 

“You have some nerves-” 

“Oh, I have some nerves? You broke up with me, Luca, not the other way around, and your stupid if you think that’s gonna stop me from coming to see Adam play. I am not here because I wanted to see, if that’s what you’re thinking. I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for Adam. So, get whatever stick you have shoved up your ass out of it and leave me alone.” You said firmly before closing your window and going back on your phone. Luca started knocking over and over on your window, but you didn’t move. You were done with this for the night. After about a minute or two, the boy ended up sending you a text, making you roll your eyes. 

Luca 

ur so fucking petty omg, grow the fuck up and get out of your car

You let out a scoff before turning to look at him with a ‘are you serious’ face. If you were being petty, you didn’t even know what word was describing him at the moment. Thankfully, Adam arrived and the two of them began bickering like little children until the older boy eventually walked away, not before sending you a death glare, and the younger one joined you in your car. 

You started driving immediately, neither of you talked, but you feel Adam’s gaze on you every once in a while. This was exactly why you didn’t want to come to the games before, something was bound to go wrong. 

“I am sorry.” He mumbled after a couple of minutes as the car was stopped at a red light. When you turned your head to look over at him, his eyes were already looking in your direction. 

“It’s whatever. He’s an asshole.” 

I am light as a feather, I’m as fresh as the air

Coca-Cola bottles that I only use to curl my hair

I got class and integrity

Just like a goddamn Kennedy, I swear

With love to spare, I

About a week later, you were laying in bed, your laptop on your lap as you watched the team celebrate their win. Adam had played wonderfully and you couldn’t be prouder of him. Your heart still dropped a little every time the commentators would mention Luca, and even more when they showed the boys after the game. 

You knew it was wrong, you shouldn’t be thinking this way, but you couldn’t help it. He looked so good with his slightly damp hair, the wide smile on his face as he hugged all of his best friends making you smile as well. But you quickly reminded yourself of what he had done and said, making you close your laptop in a heartbeat. 

You then sent a text to Adam, congratulating him for their victory before going to bed. Well, you just laid in bed in the dark, your phone’s screen being the only source of light. Adam answered you almost an hour later, thanking you and saying he’d call you the next morning. You went to sleep not too long after answering him, wishing him a good night and a safe flight home. 

It was almost noon when the younger Fantili boy called you the next day, you could tell he had gone to bed very late, well early this morning. His voice was still a little stuffy like he had just woken up, making you giggle. The two of you chated for a while before he informed you the hockey team was throwing a party that was pretty much open to all students. He hadn’t invited you directly, but made sure to state very clearly that you were always welcomed if you wanted to stop by for a bit. 

You almost laughed at his words, he was a little delusional if he though you’d like the spend the night with your drunk ex who’d probably be making out with a girl the whole time. He was a little sad when you told him you probably wouldn’t come, but he understood, especially after whatever Luca had said to you last week. 

Weirdly enough though, as the clock hit seven at night, you were standing in your bathroom, getting ready for said party. Why? Revenge. You knew deep down what you were about to do was fucked up, but you didn’t care. They deserved it, all of them, Luca more than the other, but they still did. All those people who pretended to be your friend, only to act like you didn’t even exist the moment you and Luca broke up. Not to mention that conversation you over heard was constantly replaying in your head since your break-up. Yeah, they deserved it. 

Realistically, your plan wasn’t that mean, you’d just be ruining a night celebrating a victory they had worked so hard for during  the whole season. You had gotten some information through Adam that the boys always “shit talked” some of the other girlfriends, of course without mentioning what you had heard from them. Long story short, at least one of them all had a problem with someone’s girlfriend, but they never said anything to the boyfriends. Pretty fake in your opinion, because truth be told, they weren’t really brothers like they always said, they didn’t like some at least. 

When you walked into the senior house, the place wasn’t that full, but this wasn’t any surprise to you considering it had started almost four hours ago already and most people had probably went home by now. Finding Adam was pretty easy, he was in the kitchen refilling his cup when you gently tapped his shoulder. A wide smile appeared on his face when his eyes met yours and his arms quickly wrapped around your waist. 

“You came?” He asked surprised as the two of you pulled away and he grabbed an empty clean cup for you. 

“Got a little bored, I guess.” You told him, filling your cup with water. You hadn’t came here to get drunk out of your mind like all the others here, you came here with an endgame. 

“Well ‘m glad you did. I think I saw that girl you always talk about from your English class, you-” 

“Cool, I’ll go find her!” You lied before walking away from him. Honestly, you didn’t really care that she was here, your eyes not bothering to find her as you walked through the house, spotting the group of girlfriends immediately. They were all chatting between them, but quickly stopped when they realized you were standing there. 

“Oh, please, don’t let my presence disturb your little conversation.” You said with a smirk, only making all of them look at you with weird looks. 

“What’re you doing here?” Ethan’s girlfriend, Hailey, asked. The two of you were never really close, same with Nolan’s girlfriend, Taylor. 

“I just really wanted to say how it’s so cute that you’re all able to be friends with each other and like one another, unlike all the guys. Real cute.” 

“The fuck does that mean?” This time it was Jacob’s girlfriend, Bianca, who spoke. You looked over at her, sending a massive grin before answering. 

“I am just saying, some of them are real good at pretending to be your friends, but then go shit talk about you to each other.” You said, before showing them the text message Adam had sent you. It clearly stated that they all talked about the other guys’ girlfriends badly, but never in front of whoever they were dating. Clearly just showing that they’re “we’re brothers” thing they’d always say whenever a new girlfriend was introduced was complete bullshit. 

“How do we know it’s not fake?” 

“It happened to me too. Heard a couple of them talking about me outside one night. Go ask your boyfriends if you don’t believe me.” You shrugged before walking away from them. A smirk was plastered on your face as you stood outside, sipping on your water, knowing the girls were confronting the boys at the same moment. 

You were standing outside for a couple of minutes before Adam joined you, giving you a stern look.

“What’d you do?” 

“Nothing.” You said, your smirk only growing as you looked inside, the house now empty of all the strangers. The only people left were the players and their girlfriends, who all looked like they were not having a pleasant conversation. Well, that was until all the guys started yelling at each other. 

“Y/n.” Adam mumbled sternly, making you roll your eyes. 

“I just told them the truth. About how you all talk shit about them behind their backs, but then none of you have the guts to say it to each other. I mean, why would they right, you couldn’t tell me or Luca.” Suddenly, you found yourself angry at the boy in front of you. He had let both you and Luca that your couple was loved by all of them, let you believe they were all your friends. His face turned white at your words, only making you scoff. 

“Y/n…”

“It’s pathetic really, all that bullshit about you guys being like brothers, but then you pull some shit like this.” You cut him off. Right as Adam was about to say something else, the sliding door behind you opened and your body was pulled inside the house.

Forgive and I forget

I know my age and I act like it

Got what you can’t resist

I’m a perfect all-American Bitch

With perfect all-American lips

And perfect all-American hips

I know my place

I know my place and this is it

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Someone asked as you now stood infront of everyone, all the guys looking at you with angry eyes, while the girls all hugged each other, some of them crying. 

“I think the real question here is, what the fuck is wrong with all of you? Talk shit behind our backs and then acting like your our friends five minutes later. If you don’t like someone, don’t fucking pretend like you do and then shit talk them when they can hear you.” You spat, your eyes looking between all of them until you spotted Luca, who was standing all alone in a corner. “Hoping that your “brother’s” goes to shit ‘cause you don’t like who they’re dating. Seriously, how old are you? How insecure of yourself do you have to be to say things like this?” 

The house was silent after, all the girls were nodding at your words. The boys, well at least the guilty ones, all looked at the ground, while the innocent ones looked angry and pissed, but not at you anymore, at each other. 

When none of them said anything for a solid minutes, you just scoffed and made your way out of the house. You had done what you came here to do. You started walking down the sidewalk, back towards your dorm, when you heard someone call out your name. You turned around, only to see Luca chasing after you. 

“I didn’t know, I swear-” 

“I know you didn’t, Luca.” You cut him off with a soft smile. 

“I didn’t break up with you because of them. I really like you, I really do. You’re amazing, Y/n. But, I just… I don’t want a relationship right now.” He explained, your smile turning into a sad one. 

“I get it. I want you to be happy, Lu, and if that means us not being together, then I’m okay with it.” It pained you to say it, but it was true. All you wanted for the boy was to be happy, and if that meant you having to leave his life, you were okay with it. 

“‘M not saying never, though. The way I feel about you, I’ve never felt this way for anyone before. Like… I don’t how to explain it-”

“Right person, wrong time?” You asked with a slight smirk on his face, making the boy in front of you smile slightly. 

“Yeah.” 

“Let me know whenever the right time comes, yeah?” You asked softly, the boy nodding slightly before resting his forehead against yours. 

“I’m sorry about how I broke up with you, you deserved a better explanation.” He whispered, closing his eyes as he let his body relax. Your right hand moved up, cupping his cheek and you could feel him lean into your touch. 

“It’s okay, Lulu.” 

“But it’s not. I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t have done it that way. And I shouldn’t have came to your car and talked to you like that. I am so sorry, baby.” He said, as snow started falling from the sky. You could tell how deeply he meant his words, his voice cracking slightly. 

“Hey, look at me.” You whispered, gently tapping his cheek that you were still holding. After a couple of seconds his eyes opened and stared right back at yours. “It’s okay. It’s in the past.”

“You should hate me.” 

“I don’t think I could ever hate you, Luca.” You admitted, bitting your lip gently as the boy smiled down at you. “I really need to go home.” 

“I’ll walk you.” 

“It’s alright. I think they need you more than I do.” You said, nodding towards the senior house, making Luca sigh a bit. 

“Always have to clean up your mess, don’t I?” He joked, making you giggle slightly. 

“I’ll see you around, Lu.” You mumbled before pressing a kiss to his other cheek and walking away from him. The Fantili boy stood there for a bit, a smile on his face as he watched you make your way back to your dorm. Once you disappeared at the end of the street, the boy turned around and slowly started making his way back to the house. 

When he walked in, all the girls were gone, and the boys were now just all yelling at each other. Some were trying to calm the tension that was rising in the room, but didn’t succeed. Only, when Luca walked in, the room went quiet and everyone looked at him. Luca’s eyes found Adam’s, and the younger boy immediately knew what had happened out there, well almost. He for sure thought they had gotten back together, but he was close enough. 

“God, don’t tell me you got back with her?” Johnny said harshly, making Luca’s smile flatten as he looked over to his “best friend”. 

“Why do you care? Last time I check, who I date isn’t any of your business.” Luca sassed, making his younger brother smile slightly. 

“She ruined the night!” One of the guys called out, making Luca roll his eyes. 

“She said the truth. Maybe if you guys hadn’t talked behind their backs, none of this would’ve happened. I’m going home.” The boy mumbled before leaving the senior household once again, Adam following behind him. 

“So, are you guys back together?” The forward asked after a couple of minutes of them walking back to their dorm. 

“No. But, in the future we will, I know it.”

All the time

I’m grateful all the time

I’m sexy and I’m kind

I’m pretty when I cry

Oh, all the time

I’m grateful all the time (Greatful all the fucking time)

I’m sexy and I’m kind

I’m pretty when I cry

When summer came around, you had promised both Fantili boys you’d keep close touch with them, especially Adam since he’d be heading off to Columbus next season, which pained you a little, but you were happy for him. 

As the months passed by, you and Luca talked more and more every day, something Adam noticed and was quick to bring up to his brother. Luca was smiling at his phone all the time, and overall was just in a better mood than when you two had broken up. The older brother shrugged him off, claiming he was imaginating things, but they both knew it was a lie. 

You were over the moon when you arrived in Michigan, only to find that both brothers were already there, and a time to meet was quickly set. During your little hang out, it was clear to Adam that you and Luca were truly meant to be together, you both had giant smiles whenever you’d be talking to the other. For a majority of the night, it was mainly just the two of you in your own little world, but Adam didn’t care, Luca was happy, you were happy, and that’s all that mattered to him. 

“Don’t fuck this up, dude.” Adam whispered in his brother’s ear as the two of them hugged goodbye. Luca had admitted to him that he was planning on asking you out soon, something that almost made the younger boy scream. 

“I won’t.” And he didn’t. He asked you out, again, and you said yes, again, a week later. The two of you were just hanging in your dorm, you were complaining about how much homework you already had when he just blurred the question out. You were a little shock, but quickly agreed. 

When Luca told his teammates the two of you were back together, he received some questioning looks, but he just ignored them. He thought you were perfect, and that’s all that mattered to him. He didn’t care if his friends didn’t like you, he did and they’d need to learn how to deal with you being around even if they didn’t like you. 

You made him happy, and that’s all they should care about.

[alargehunkofdebris]

the necessary anguish of the Good Omens 2 finale

Ah ok. So after 4 years of waiting post Season One and ten cumulative years of bookish fannery, I watched bonified New Content of Good Omens. And when those credits rolled, I sat there, not in my expected state of pleasant satisfaction, but in a state of abject shock.

I actually don’t know if I’ve ever had such a reaction to a show before. Or, rather, that I could still have such a reaction. I’m thirty, for goodness sakes – I was planning on being thrilled and charmed and entertained, not having my hands shake so much that it was hard to type a text. I wasn’t planning on losing an entire night of sleep because my heart wouldn’t stop pounding really hard, Neil. This was not expected. I had an estate sale to run the next day – by God, I needed that sleep.

 Anyway. These are my thoughts on the season, and on this upswell of mourning/unhappiness at such a gut-wrenching ending. As always, this are my dumb opinions and nothing more; take with a grain of salt, etc. 

I have seen a lot of suffering on Tumblr today. Everyone is in pain, and it makes sense. I, too, am in pain. But I might be in the minority, because I thanked God/Mr. Gaiman when things turned to pure pain in the end. Because narratively, despite the anguish we all feel, this is how it needs to be. And I was getting real worried there for a second.

When we have a mini-series (ie, a show with a set number of seasons) it can’t act the same as a series without a set end. We’ve got three potential seasons; therefore, they logically should behave like a three-act play, or the three acts in the standard Western movie/book plot. This middle season is the middle act, the second act. While it definitely doesn’t work exactly the same way, and needs its own story arc to work as a season, it is still functionally the middle part of one overarching plot.

And what usually happens near the end of the second act? All Is Lost, and the Dark Night of the Soul.

We NEED this to happen. This is what makes a plot delicious. If we’d had this perfect, lovely, romantic season where the stakes aren’t raised one bit and everything is fixed at the end, we would want for nothing and the gorgeous tension that keeps us waiting and watching would be lost. We wouldn’t feel that drive to create fanfics and fanart, we wouldn’t have the need to speculate or dream, because most of the tension was eased, and you just can’t have that if you want a highly anticipated third season. We’d have nothing huge and concrete to look forward to.

In fact, I was getting really worried once the Ineffable Bureaucracy started happening on screen, because I could see (I thought) past that bend in the road toward the end. I could see how this season might conclude, with big happy confessions of love and hugs and handholding (that’s all I expected, because I only expected the same chaste level of affection with both angelic/demonic couples) and then…then it’d all be over. What more could there be? I mean, there certainly could be more, but THIS is the main thing people waited for. The Happy Confession. The hug. The handholding. Whatever we got. And in my mind, having it now, at the end of season two, just wasn’t adding up – it did not fit. It couldn’t. No, we can’t have this now. It doesn’t work.

I get this peculiar thing that happens when things start getting too “everything is great!” in a story. I get the “someone needs to die” instinct. Instead of pure happiness that things are going great, there’s this feeling of intense discomfort, because I feel the weight of the shoe that’s failing to drop. I need it to drop, or else it throws off my entire standard-Western-narrative-trained brain’s balance. In the build up to The Scene, when things seem to be going swimmingly and heading directly towards the happiest and syrupiest of endings, I had to pause and pace my living room and roll around on the floor to alleviate the sheer build up of stress. Things can’t go this well. They can’t. There hasn’t been enough bad things, this is too sweet, too much. Can’t handle it. This can’t just be pure wish-fulfillment at this point; Good Omens shouldn’t work that way, it never has. We’d be happy in the moment, but then it’ll ultimately be a let down. No more danger. Nothing keeping them apart. No more tension, no more story. It was all too easy.

And then, finally, that shoe dropped. After a season of mainly getting along and being just thrilled with each other, they began to really argue. Things got horrific and serious, and I literally let out a breath of relief. I was able to watch without pausing every two minutes for a breather. Ok. Things weren’t over. This wasn’t the end. We had more to wait for.

And then it went on. The confession started, but in that gorgeously wrong way. And for the first time that season, I was actually feeling the stress of the story. Yes, there was danger throughout this season, but it was always layered with humour and wit. You didn’t get a demon scene without them doing something hilariously stupid. You didn’t get an angel scene without them being delightfully out-of-touch. The stakes were high, but they weren’t allowed to get EXTREMELY high. We never thought there was any question of them getting out of scrapes unscathed, because it was never all serious.

Never…until now. There was zero humour at this point. After 6 episodes of being pleasantly delighted, I was feeling the dread. However, I still thought I knew where it was going.  

See, I thought I had it figured out. If I had any extra money, I would have bet some of it. I knew that, whilst they’d likely have some kind of subtle confession of love and caring, and perhaps a touch – a hug, or a hand-hold (like Gabe and Beez) – I knew we couldn’t expect a kiss. This is a story thirty-three years in the making, and it’s always been in that grey area. They weren’t humans; they didn’t necessarily show affection that way. Besides that, we’ve had so many TV shows that get close, but rarely ones that go all the way to smoochville. OFMD was one of the very first, but it was new. It wasn’t an old, established story from the 90s like this is. It didn’t have decades-old fans waiting with bated breath for canon content. For Good Omens, we heard it time and time again in interviews; it’s a kind of love story. They had this kind of marriage. They cared for each other. They had a bromance. It’s close, but never quite there. So I thought I knew exactly how this would go, and would be thrilled with what we got. 

And then it absolutely didn’t go that way. It went exactly as far as so many hoped. And it went there like a knife to the gut.

And it was perfect.

Goddamn, what a season ending. Despite my lack of appetite and failure to sleep, I could not be happier with what Mr. Gaiman did. I am screaming crying throwing up and I’m thrilled about it.

The middle of a story is typically what drags; it never holds the highest stakes. Lord knows what we’re going to get in season three (knocking on wood), but I can only expect it to get bigger and heavier. And by God and/or Satan, am I prepared, in this deliciously painful purgatory, to wait and see.  

[norman-fucking-reedus]

More GirlDaddy Daryl cause the love I have for him is actually not funny

I thought of a name a longgg time ago for his daughter that I think is super cute, It was gonna be Darylina but then I thought how Daryl would hate that THEN I thought how DARYL would make CAROL the grandma so obviously Carolina is the perfect name

She’d be called Lina for short, Carol as a joke and Carolina when shes in buttfuck trouble (which teenege Lina gets into a lot of but shes her mothers child)

I feel like she’d be a total badass, a good balance between Daryl badass and Y/n badass. She’s a hardcore daddys girl so by age ten she was already mastering the Dixon way of hunting.

“Ya got light steps naturally, let’s keep em tha’ way kiddo”

“Okay daddy!”

Lina would be more like Daryl as a kid, and I feel like Daryl was a rowdy kid.

She practically bounces off the walls from the assigned hours of too early in the morning to too late in the evening. Getting jumped on before he gets out of bed wasn’t exactly on Daryl’s bucket list (but he wouldn’t have it any other way)

Yes, she constantly climbs onto her father like a cat. No, there’s nothing he can do to get her squealing giggling frame off him. His only option is to accept his fate and play 21 questions directly over his shoulder.

“Lina! M’working, get offa me”

“Wha’cha workin’ on?”

“Stuff”

“Wha kinda stuff?”

“Adult stuff”

“Wha kinda adult stuff?”

Daryl uses her whenever he works on his bike, and his massive fingers can’t fit to reach something. She feels very important when her tiny fingers reach it, and she lets Daryl know how very useless he is.

“Daddy yer not gonna be able to fight if ya can’t fit yer fingers in stuff”

“Really? Damn. Good thing yer gonna protect me”

“No daddy, yer have to protect yerself because m’gon go protect mommy”

“Tha’s good idea, mommy can’t protect herself”

“But mommy can fit her fingers in stuff”

“Then why ya protectin’ her ‘nd not me?”

“Because I like mommy”

“I like mommy more”

Oh maybe I should mention they bicker over EVERYTHING. And guess who has to be the tiebreaker?

“Babe! Tell this rat tha peanut butter is indefinitely better than tha jelly!”

“Daryl she doesn’t even know either of those are and everyone knows jelly over butter”

“See mommy is always right!”

“Are ya cheatin’ one me??”

There’s a very strong love-hate relationship between him and teenage Lina, especially when hormones start to change and tempers flare.

Once again, Lina is a mini Daryl and Y/n, so when she shoots back during arguments, she’s aiming for the head.

“For tha last time, no. Too dangerous and m’not gon be able ta keep an eye on ya. End of discussion, quit pushin it”

“M’not a fucking kid anymore. I didn’t want ya keepin’ a damn eye on me in tha first place?!”

“Gettin real ballsy there little girl, I said wha’ I said”

“Ballsy? Little? Clearly I got more balls than ya since yer too fuckin’ scared to take me”

“Carolina. Wherever this is comin’ from, cut it the fuck out.”

“I’m gonna cut you the fuck out.”

“Scuse me?“

“Good luck on the battlefield when ya can’t even fuckin’ hear”

After every hard slam of her door, Daryl is left to stand in the deafening silence feeling like an utter failure.

Obviously, he gives her the time to decompress before going to apologize, this time with his crossbow in hand.

The door creaks slightly open before all the way, however there’s no little girl that comes running out into his arms. She stands tall in front of him, mirroring his expression of anxious discomfort.

“Ya stay close, no matter what. Understand?”

“Okay”

Daryl hands her the crossbow.

“Look- I know yer not a kid, but yer still my kid. Yer gon always be m’little girl an yer growin’ up scares tha livin’ shit out of me”

“Ya’ve killed people.. isn’t tha’ scary?”

“Wha’s scary tha’ if I didn’t kill ‘em they might’ve killed ya”

Lina hugs him tearfully.

“M’sorry fer arguin’ with ya”

“Nah, m’sorry fer not givin’ ya a chance”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★

(Daryl’s inner child definitely gets healed each time after apologizing and talking it out. He breathes so much better and just feels so much better AUGH my baby)

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Heaven is not fit to house a love (like you and I) | Part 5

Word Count: 6k

Genre: smut, angst, fluff

Summary: When you first met your boyfriend, it was love at first sight. No, more than that. It was love before you even met. It felt like you had known each other in another life and were meant to find each other again. 

But that's not actually true, is it? You and Beomgyu don't actually know each other from another life, and the dreams you've been having aren't memories of your past life either. That's ridiculous. 

But then why does Beomgyu get so defensive about them? And why does each dream feel more real than the one before? 

A/N: this is the sequel to my series YAMQN but I'm trying to write it in a way that it would be comprehensible to people who have never read YAMQN. The parts in italic are the dreams. 

Warnings: fem!reader, sub!gyu, dom!reader, choking, cunnilingus, fingering, riding, mentions of previous noncon

“Oh my god.” Are the words that stir you awake in the morning. 

Beomgyu returns to the apartment to find you in the same position you had fallen in last night, and he freaks out. 

“Fuck, did you stay there all night?” He asks, and tries to scoop you up off the floor but you push him away. 

“Don't touch me. Isn't that what you wanted?” The raspiness of your voice from sleep adds to the harshness of your words, and Beomgyu frowns. “It's not what I wanted. It's what you wanted.”

“Look at me! What part of this exactly did I want?” You indicate towards your disheveled and miserable state angrily, his reply pissing you off. Was it disingenuous to be mad at him for his ridiculous statement despite you making the very same equally absurd one before him? Maybe, but you’re too bitter and upset that he left you last night to care. “I told you I'm trying to fix it.” 

But Beomgyu is not one to let your hypocrisy go unnoticed. “Wow, that makes me feel so much better. I suddenly don’t care that my girlfriend thinks I’m a disgusting piece of shit.” 

You have no comeback to that because you know there is nothing you can say that would justify your recent behavior, even if unintended, towards him, so you run away, knowing he would chase after you. 

“Whatever.” You push yourself off the ground with great difficulty. It turns out that sleeping on the hard floor curled up in a ball and crying your heart out takes a toll on your body, and your screaming bones and muscles make sure you know that. 

“What, are you giving me the silent treatment now?” He scoffs and you stay silent, proving his point as you make your way to your bathroom. 

Are you using anger to push down the guilt you feel at what you've put him through? Yes, but he shouldn't have left you to your thoughts last night because despite his reassurance that he wouldn't leave, you still couldn't help but spend the long tortuous hours until you fell asleep imagining that his small break away from you would allow him to reconsider everything and lead him to dump the crazy, toxic girlfriend he has that is treating him like a criminal over something he never did. What if he decided it was all too much after all and left you to find someone else who he wouldn't fight so much with–whose friends didn't hate–who wasn't insistent on being friends with a guy he clearly feels insecure about? 

“Come on, just fucking talk to me.” 

Now he wants to talk when he made you go through needless hours of torture in the dead of the night by yourself? 

“I don't have time. I have to get to work.” You tell him, voice almost inaudible from all the shouting and crying you did last night. Honestly you don't know how you're even going to speak to customers like this but you're intent on paying Beomgyu back for what he did to you. 

“Are you fucking serious?” He asks, but you don't reply, just turning on the shower and stepping inside. 

You can see Beomgyu is still outside through the fogged up glass pacing up and down the small bathroom and it brings your heart a sick sense of satisfaction that he's waiting for you–that he's atoning in some way for what he did. 

You take your time, not just because the hot water feels heavenly against your aching limbs, but also so you’d make Beomgyu wait. You can’t make him wait hours like he did to you but this small punishment does slightly placate your resentful heart. 

When you step out of the shower, he's immediately back into it, trying to convince you to stop and talk to him but you ignore him, keeping your mouth shut all through getting ready while he talks your head off. 

“This is ridiculous. Why am I the one begging you to talk to me?” He finally asks and you hold back your flinch as you put the finishing touches on your makeup. You have to speak up now. You can’t rebuff him for too long or he might leave again. You cringe inwardly at all these manipulative thoughts filling your mind and prompting you to act in this underhanded way that you never thought you’d behave like before, but you can’t help yourself, finding yourself falling into this toxic way of thinking as if it was something that had always been embedded in a rotten part of your brain you didn’t know existed until it had been unearthed by the stress and pain of everything that has been happening lately. 

“I tried to talk last night but you fucking abandoned me.” You finally shout, shifting the blame onto him again. 

“I didn't abandon you.” He defends himself heatedly. “I needed time to wrap my head around what you're fucking accusing me of!”

“I wasn't accusing you of anything! I know it's just a dream.” You scream as if you could drown out the voice in your head trying to convince you that it was more than that. 

“If you know that then why are you treating me like it's true?” It was his turn to throw out accusations, and this one hit a nerve. 

“Because I can't fucking help it, okay!” Your lips tremble as you tear up. You really don’t know why these absurd dreams and images are affecting you to this extent. “I can't fucking control what my mind choses to spring on me and I can't control what that makes me feel.” 

“Then what the fuck do you expect me to do about it?” He asks, frustrated. You completely understand his reaction. You would be furious and heartbroken if you were in his shoes. He might even be handling it much better than you would have. 

“I don't know, okay? But you leaving me in the middle of the night to deal with this shit on my own is not helping.” You break down, voice turning pathetic and whiny as you cry. Unlike your previous actions and words, this wasn’t intended to sway him into giving into you. You truly don’t know what to do. You don’t want to be having these awful thoughts but you can’t stop them. Still your tears get to him anyway.

“I'm sorry.” He relents right away, always weak when it comes to seeing you cry. “I just needed some time to process it all.”

You scoff through your tears, softer too. “Who are you and what have you done to the Beomgyu I know?” 

He cracks a half-hearted smile. “I guess even he has a breaking point.” 

That is exactly what you’re so scared of–of him reaching that breaking point and leaving you. You give him an equally unenthusiastic smile. “Well, where do we go from here?” 

“Wherever. Doesn't matter as long as we're together.” He says as if he could hear your fearful thoughts and you nod eagerly before he can change his mind. “Together, always.” 

__________________________________

Taehyun knows better than to approach you but he can’t stop himself, not when you look like shit and sound like it too. Due to your rough state, your manager has relegated you to working in the back where you're out of the customers' sight, and that's where Taehyun corners you.

“What happened to you? And don't give me that bullshit you gave the manager about laryngitis.” 

“I don't owe you an explanation.” You sneer, which is useless since he can't see it when your back is towards him. You doubt it would have dissuaded him anyway given his next question. He is like a dog with a bone. He won’t leave well alone. 

“Did he hurt you?”

You whip around to face him, the sneer now turned to a full on scowl. “He didn't. He would never hurt me.”

“You sound defensive.” You almost want to smack the know-it-all look off his face. “God, Taehyun, sometimes it feels like you wish he was abusing me so you have the chance to swoop in and act like the hero.” 

That gets him to frown a little. “I don't need to wish for it when I know he is.”

“He isn't. He would never hurt me. I am the one hurting him. I am the one…” You stop yourself as you feel the tears building up again. You shouldn’t say more anyway. He would just use it against you and Beomgyu. “Whatever. You wouldn’t get it.” 

But Taehyun doesn’t give up that easily. “Maybe I already know.”

You roll your eyes. “Sure you do. 

“He forced himself on you, didn't he?” He says lowly and you’re glad you weren’t holding anything fragile in your hand because suddenly all the strength goes out of your body as an icy grip wraps around your heart.

“W-What?” You stutter, staring at him with a deer-in-headlight look that speaks volumes. 

“I knew it.” His jaw clenches and his hands ball into fists by his sides. “I am going to smash his face in.”

“No. No!” You cry, shaking your head wildly. “He didn't do that, I swear. It's all in my head.”

Taehyun looks at you like you're lost your mind, so you quickly clarify before he misunderstands even further. “It's the dreams. I dreamt he… did that, but he didn't! Not in real life. And when I told him about what he did in those terrible dreams, he was so upset and hurt that I would dream up something so vile about him that he left for the night and I just didn’t handle that too well. That’s all. He didn’t lay a finger on me. He didn’t.”

You were doing your best to clear your boyfriend's name. It was the least you could do now that your stupid dreams have leaked out into the real world to threaten your relationship with Beomgyu and to infect even Taehyun. Yes, you’re responsible for leading Taehyun to come to these revolting conclusions, but even you could never in a million years have been prepared for what he says next. 

“You had a dream about that too?” He asks and you look at him in utter confusion and apprehension, dread building up in your stomach until you feel you won’t be able to contain it anymore. “Too? You had the same dream?”

He nods slowly, his mind visibly working to try to make sense of what he’s saying. “That's why I was worried about that. The dream felt so real, just like the ones you told me about before, the prince dreams. Prince Beomgyu raped you in my dream.”

The world spins nauseatingly around you. How is this possible? How could he have had the same dream you did? You insanity can’t have rubbed off on him to this extent.

“That's impossible. It must be a coincidence.” You shake your head violently, trying to dispel this insanity before it gets forever entrenched into your mind. “Yes, it's a coincidence because I put the image of prince Beomgyu in your head and you hate him so of course you'd dream of something so terrible about him.” You attempt to convince yourself as much as him. 

“Then why did you also have that same dream?” He asks and you shake your head more, making the nausea worse. “Do you also hate him?”

“It's a coincidence.” You repeat weakly but Taehyun appears to believe your weak excuse even less than you do. “Is it?”

You look up at him, and try to conjure up some conviction to defend your love, the love you find yourself hurting once again even in his absence. What the hell is wrong with you? Have you gone insane? You need to get a grip. “Don't tell me you believe the prince dreams are real. I didn't take you for the type to be so superstitious.”

Taehyuns's upper lip curls in disdain at the clear mockery in your voice.“I don't believe they are real but I believe in the psychology behind them. If you truly believe that your boyfriend would never hurt you then why are you having these awful dreams about him? If you truly believe he would never hurt you then why are they affecting you so much?”

“I can't control it.” You cry out, at your wit's end. How do they expect you to answer these questions for them when you can't even answer them for yourself? “It's not my fault.”

Taehyun's sharp face softens slightly. It appears he too is affected by your distress, though he's less lenient on you than Beomgyu. “It's not your fault, it's his. He makes you feel unsafe, that's why you’re having those thoughts.”

You shake your head, denying his accusation  weakly. You're so tired. You don't want to talk about this anymore. You just want it all to go away. “Beomgyu wouldn't do that.”

“Do you truly believe that or are you just saying that because you want to believe it?”

“I–I…” You should believe it. You want to believe it, but something deep inside you is preventing you from doing that and if you could, you swear you'd tear yourself apart to get to it and crush it with your bare hands so you can return to the blissful love you once shared with Beomgyu and never have to think about it again. 

Your gorey fantasy is interrupted by the warm feel of a hand cupping your cheek, and your look up to see that Taehyun had snuck up on you and is now standing right in front of you. 

“Don't hide from it. There is something in there that your mind is trying so hard to tell you but you won't let it because it scares you.” He whispers, his thumb softly caressing your cheek, giving the opportunity for that strange feeling of yearning and affection you hold for him to reignite. How are these men able to so easily look right through you and read you like an open book? “I get it. It's hard to think such things of the person you fell in love with. It feels like a betrayal. It feels like you're doing something wrong, but you’re not. You're just protecting yourself.” 

“He's not–he would never…” You stumble, your thoughts a bloody and mangled mess you can't untangle, but he shushes you with a finger to your lips. 

“Listen to that voice deep in the back of your mind telling you the truth. I know you hear it.” He bends down, pressing his forehead against yours, his lips centimeters away from your own. 

This is dangerous. This is wrong. 

“Taehyun?” You ask, noticing the way his gaze is transfixed on your lips. You see it coming a long time before it happens, and you do nothing to stop it. You do nothing to stop him from pressing his lips against yours. 

In fact, you don't just do nothing, you actively respond to his kiss, pushing your lips against his own, seeking out the alternative he was so clearly offering you. 

He's right. There is something there. You can't even deny it and that scares you. There is something between you as inexplicable as those wretched dreams, and they're all threatening to tear you apart from Beomgyu. 

But you're just as helpless against Taehyun as you are against the dreams, your treacherous body responding to his kisses despite your best efforts--your lips tingling against his slightly chapped ones, your heart clenching around every little hum and moan he breathes into your mouth.  

When he finally pulls back, you're both in a daze.  

"Angel.” He murmurs softly and that triggers something in you–and like muscle memory, you suddenly jump back, freaking out and in turn freaking him out. You seem to have that effect on the men in your life.

No. No. There are no men in your life, only one man. Beomgyu.

“What?” He asks, trying to reach out to you but you step further away, and you can't miss the flicker of hurt flashing across his eyes. 

“Why did you call me that?” You ask and his eyebrows furrow in confusion. “I don't know. It felt right. Do you not like it?”

No, you most certainly don't like it. You realize it's a very common pet name but this was all just too many coincidences for your liking, and you can't stand it anymore. None of this makes sense and it's making your head hurt. 

"I have to go." You tell him and his face falls. “What? You're just leaving like that?”

Whatever ghost of hurt was there on his face is replaced by stark and jagged betrayal. 

“Yes. This was wrong. You shouldn’t have kissed me. You fucking know I have a boyfriend.” Your voice rises, more at yourself than him. You've really fucked up now. “You know we're having trouble and you're fucking using that to get with me. You're a scumbag, Taehyun.” 

And you’re a stupid whore. This is exactly why Beomgyu wanted you to stay away from Taehyun but you were arrogant and thought you knew better than him and now look where that led you. 

“If you hated it so much then why did you kiss me back? Don't fucking pretend there is nothing between us. I know you felt it too.” Taehyun will not take the blame lying down but it doesn't matter. He's not the one you have to explain yourself to.

“What I felt was shame and guilt for cheating on my boyfriend. I feel nothing for you.” You lie through your teeth. You don't know if Taehyun believes you or not but you know you're hurting him either way and he deserves it. He shouldn't have come onto you during your weak moment. “Go find another girl to fix your intimacy issues.”

You take off your apron and make your way out of the coffee house, ignoring the way your manager is yelling at you to get back or you'll be fired.

“I quit.” You shout back at him. You don't care. Let him fire you. It's not like you can go back and work with Taehyun after this anyway. One of you has to leave and you’re making it easier for the both of you. 

You have to get back to Beomgyu. You have to atone for all you've done. 

____________________

Beomgyu knows that something is off with you immediately. You look worse than you did when you left in the morning and he's asking about it as soon as you come through the door. You know it's useless to lie to him so you just confess, hoping that the faster you come clean, the faster you can move on. 

“You were right about Taehyun.” You say and he immediately becomes angry. “What did he do?”

“I quit my job. I won't see him anymore.” You quickly supply, hoping that would at least placate him a little bit. “You don't have to worry about him anymore.”

But Beomgyu will not fall for such easy tricks. 

“What did he do?” Beomgyu asks gravely and it scares you. Not for yourself but for Taehyun. Yes, Beomgyu would never hurt you but would he hurt Taehyun?

“Beomgyu, you’re scaring me.” You tell him, once again hoping he'd soften just a little bit but it's to no avail. 

“You're only making me angrier.” He tells you and you can clearly tell, so you make a last ditch effort to protect Taehyun. “I'll tell you if you promise not to hurt him.” 

“He touched you.” He states and you shake your head, wide-eyed. Are you really that easy to read? “It was just one kiss.”

“I’m going to fucking gut him.” He rages, storming off towards the door, but you throw yourself in front of him, begging and pleading with him to calm down. “No, no, please, baby. It's over. I will never see him again. It will only be me and you. I swear.”

���That's not enough. He has to pay.” He growls, his fury rolling off him in waves and scorching your skin.

“If you hurt him, they'll lock you up. They'll take you away from me.” You try another angle, anything to get him to back down. 

“When I'm done with him, there won't be a piece of him left to find.” His words almost make your heart stop, and the look on his face makes you think he might actually be capable of doing that, so you try even harder to protect Taehyun. 

Despite the hostility you treated Taehyun with, you do not wish Beomgyu to hurt him. You care for him beyond what makes sense and you won't be able to live with yourself if Beomgyu lays a hand on him. 

“Please, Beomgyu, I'll do anything you want.” You desperately plead, tugging on his shirt like a little child begging their parent not to punish them. “I will never see him again. It will just be you and me, just like you wanted.”

You recognize how insane you sound. If you had seen another woman behaving the way you are right now and saying the same things to her boyfriend as she tries to justify her cheating, tries to prevent her boyfriend from retaliating, tries to convince him he has nothing to worry about by promising to completely and fully devote herself to him… you would shake your head in pity for the poor girl stuck in this tumultuous and frankly scary situation. No, the gravity of what is happening doesn’t escape your notice but you find yourself falling into it no less severely. You just want this nightmare to be over. You want to protect Taehyun and give into Beomgyu and just do whatever the hell he wants so it would stop hurting. 

And you find what you desire when the vengeful look in Beomgyu eyes falters a little bit, and you know you’ve got him. He’s got you. “You'll listen to me when I tell you to stay away from these types of men?”

“Yes.” Your answer is ready on your tongue. You are so tired. “You were right. I shouldn't have doubted you.”

The tension in his shoulders eases a little bit. “You'll forget about those disgusting dreams?”

“I will. I just need you to help me.” You pull harder on his shirt and he takes your hands in his and kisses them. His touch is warm, doesn’t burn as hotly from anger as it did a moment ago. “Of course, I will, baby. I will do anything for you.”

You nod. “I know.” 

He puts your hands on his shoulders and wraps his own hands around your waist, engulfing you, his touch firm but gentle, slightly hesitant as he watches your reaction to his words closely. “You won't hide away from me anymore?”

“No. I'm all yours.” Once again your answer comes readily despite your trepidation. And to prove yourself, you use your hold on him to pull him into a kiss which he happily reciprocates. You can taste the sigh of relief on his lips, feel the rage slowly seep out under your touch as the kiss deepens. 

Beomgyu is horribly lost in the kiss, his tongue chasing your own and his lips desperately latching onto you as if he’d stop breathing if he lets you go. You have a feeling he would stand there for hours, days, weeks, kissing you until you both perish if you don’t intervene. 

He also won’t do anything more, the scare you gave him before having apparently done quite a number on him. So despite you very clearly feeling his need against your tummy, you know he won’t make a move to push things any further. 

So you make the move for him. You let your hand make its way between your bodies to take a hold of his hard member, and immediately he is pulling back with a groan, his head thrown back for a second as a shiver racks through his body from the sudden burst of pleasure after being deprived for so long, before he quickly whips his head back down and gasps out. 

“You don't have to.” He says as if he wasn't giving you the neediest puppy dog eyes you've ever seen. As if he literally wasn’t gasping for air at that small touch. 

You scoff. “If I take my hand off your cock right now, you’re gonna cry.” 

He gulps. “So make me cry. Better me than you.” 

A sharp pang pierces through your heart. Despite how weak he is, how desperate, he still would rather hurt himself than hurt you again. You’re overwhelmed. You don’t know how to respond to that, so you just push him to the ground and say, “You’re crazy.” 

“Crazy for you.” He whispers as he watches you take your pants and underwear off. 

“See what you’ve done?” You sling one leg over his shoulder, bringing your pussy inches away from his face and letting him see how wet and puffy you’ve gotten for him. 

He gulps and asks in a shaky voice, “Can I?” 

You cock your head down at him as you play with his hair. “What are you going to do if I say no?” 

Is it cruel to mess with him when he’s this needy? You don’t care. You just want to revel in everything he is giving you. 

“Whatever you want me to do.” Comes his perfect reply and you reward him for it, unceremoniously pushing his face in your pussy. Beomgyu responds immediately–whether he wanted it so much that he was ready for it or he knew that what he would say would get him what he wants, you don’t know and you don’t care to figure out when his wet tongue was prying your pussy lips apart to seek out your dripping entrance, his entire lower face getting covered in your juices in seconds.

“Fuck, baby, how are you so good at this?” You groan, looking down to see him eat you out just as hungrily as he always does. Every time you’re with Beomgyu, it’s always full of passion and love and lust. He treats it like the first and last time he will ever be with you and his fervor is infectious. A sprawling fire licks up your body, sprouting up from where he was devouring your cunt, his kisses and licks so fractic and yet so deliberate. 

Beomgyu doesn’t reply, he just mewls and nuzzles his face into your pussy more. 

“Finger me open for your cock, baby.” 

You swear you felt him almost cum on the spot at the command, but he holds himself back, one of his hands snaking around your body to grab a handful of your ass and spread it open while the other goes under you to press two of his fingers against your entrance. You feel the pads of his fingers swirling around it for a little bit, probably gathering enough of your arousal to easily breach your hole but you were so turned on, you didn’t really need it. 

“Don’t fucking teas–” You don’t get to finish your irritated demand before his fingers plow into you in one go. It takes you by surprise so much so you almost fall, but with his hold on your ass, he is able to keep you in your place, pushing you further against his lewd tongue while his fingers work you open. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You moan, pulling harshly at his hair as he sends you barreling towards your orgasm, his finger pumping in and out of you ruthlessly, repeatedly hitting that spot inside you that has you turning to goo in his hold. “I’m going to cum, Gyu. Don’t fucking stop.” 

As if Beomgyu would even consider it. He fucks you as if he could cum from it, and you think he very well could if you asked him to. But you have other plans for him. 

“Oh shit, right there! Fuck!” You cry out, finally going over the edge and coming over your darling’s face. Beomgyu happily lets you hump his face, getting those last shocks of pleasure before your punishing hold on his hair loosens and your breathing goes from fast and shallow to slow and deep, your eyelids fluttering to a half-closed position while his shines widely up at you. 

He is like a dog begging for his treat, and you’ll be damned if you don’t give it to him. You take your leg off his shoulder, but you don’t put it back down. Instead you press your foot against his chest and push him to the floor. He quickly realizes what you want and compliantly lays down flat for you to lower yourself on him. 

“Do you need it, Gyu?” You ask, shuddering as his clothed cock rubs against your sensitive pussy. 

He nods quickly. “Uh-huh. Need it to survive.” 

You laugh, breathless. He's ridiculous. “Need my pussy to survive?” 

“Y-Yeah.” He whimpers, struggling to hold himself back from just dry humping you. “Would die without it.” 

“Poor puppy.” You take pity on him and finally reach down to pull him out of his pants, the weak gasp he lets out echoing in your own chest. He did so well for you. You’ve hurt him badly and yet he’s still willing to be so vulnerable for you. You can’t believe you almost messed this up and for what? Demented dreams that mean nothing and a guy who is hell-bent on separating you from the one guy who loves you more than anything in the world because of his deranged savior complex? 

You focus on the anger you feel at that to hold the images that are creeping at the edges of your mind at bay as you take in Beomgyu’s cock, feeling it stretch you out even more than it usually does now that you haven’t fucked him in some time. 

And it’s not just you who feels the difference. Beomgyu can clearly feel the way your tight walls drag over every inch of his cock as you dutifully take him up to the hilt. You feel his fingers dig into the meat of your thighs as he tries to stay grounded and not cum the moment he’s surrounded by your fluttering walls. 

“You okay there, baby?” You tease, grinning at the way he’s holding his breath and the tense arch of his back. You feel bad that your distance has affected him this much, but not bad enough that you don’t start moving just to watch him scramble to keep from cumming. 

“Fuck, fuck, slow down…” He pleads and you laugh. “I can’t possibly go any slower than this.” 

You really can’t. You were basically just swiveling your hips over him. You weren’t even riding him yet and yet he looks like you’re fucking the life out of him. 

It doesn't feel so scary like this, with him writhing under you helplessly. Images still bleed at the corner of your vision from that unknown source, images of Beomgyu decked in flowery silk and expensive jewels but still just as weak for you as he is right now, calling out for his princess as he struggles to hold himself back. 

And as your pace starts to pick up and your defenses get weaker, those images creep closer and closer until they’re blending with the image of him under you right now and become indistinguishable from each other, until your Beomgyu is prince Beomgyu and prince Beomgyu is your Beomgyu. It scares you but it also feels right, and you don’t know what that means. Have you finally lost it? 

But it’s hard to care about your expired sanity with the pleasure pumping through your veins and flooding your brain. As always, Beomgyu cock fits you so perfectly it feels like it was made for your pussy, a shock of electricity spreading from that point of contact to take hold of your entire body, gripping your muscles until you're bouncing on Beomgyu's cock, chasing it further and further. 

“Please, please, slow down! I can't–”

It moves your arm so your hand is wrapped around Beomgyu's delicate throat, pressing firmly on it to quiet his pathetic cries. 

“Shut up, Beomgyu. You can take it. You will hold yourself back and not pop in my pussy like a little virgin before I let you.” 

Tears collect on his pretty lashes as he sniffles and tries to listen to your harsh commands. But you can see how difficult it is for him. Beogmyu is extremely sensitive at the best of times so you just know that he's about ready to combust at any moment right now and it just makes you even more turned on. 

You've never been so rough with Beomgyu, or with anyone for that matter. You've never choked someone before and you probably shouldn't either but you can’t get yourself to let go. You're being so cruel to him but something deep inside you is telling you that he deserves it. 

For what? You don't know. Maybe it comes from that same place where the dreams come from and the thought scares you because that is a place of evil and you shouldn't be acting on it but Beomgyu hasn't even batted an eye in alarm. It's as if he thinks he deserves it too. 

“Princess!” His choked cry pulls you out of your thoughts and you can tell that he is right on the verge of falling.“Please say I can cum. Please? I r-really can't hold it any longer. God, please.” 

He was openly crying now, his sobs partly cut off by your hand around his throat and tears heavily streaming down his face you're sure your image is probably swimming in vision right now from the tears and the low oxygen. He looks pathetic but more beautiful than anyone or anything you've seen in your entire life. How could you possibly be expected to resist God's most beautiful creation? 

Still, you play the part. 

“Whatever. If you cum I won't stop anyway.” You tell him, and he must have taken this as permission because next thing you know his mouth is hung open and you feel his warm seed burst inside you. 

“Fuck.” You look down as you continue to ride him at the same pace, seeing his cum seeping out of your pussy and sticking to both your skin, making obscene squelching noises as you jump on his dick. 

But Beomgyu doesn’t complain for a second. 

You don’t know what is wrong with you. Why are you doing that? And why isn’t Beomgyu making any attempt to stop you? He just lays there and lets you do whatever you want to him. 

“Is this what you wanted?” You ask, tone sharper than you intended. You don’t understand why you’re angry at him when all he wants is for you to love him. 

“I–I… I love you.” He slurs incoherently, his words both not making sense and yet answering your question perfectly at the same time. Beomgyu doesn’t care what happens as long as you’re together. 

“Fuck, Beomgyu…” You curse, your own orgasm not taking long to grab hold of your body, not with his seed filling your pussy and the raptured, devoted look on his face. 

“I love you, princess.” He whispers, barely audible with your hand so tight around his throat as you finally succumb to your own end. 

“I love you too.” Your voice surprises you, your own tears having caught up to you without you realizing it until you hear the pitiful garbled sound in your ears. 

You don't know why you’re crying. Is it from pleasure? Stress? The combination of everything you've been through these past few months? 

You don't know but you know that it feels good to let it all out, your tears getting swept up and washed away by the waves of pleasure battering your exhausted body. 

This orgasm takes everything out of you. You enter a state of complete dissociation, the pleasure and strange but profound sorrow taking turns ravaging your body until you're left limp and spent. 

When you finally regain awareness, you find yourself in Beomgyu's embrace once again. Always in Beomgyu’s embrace. And he is rocking you and whispering sweet gentle nothings in your ear. 

“It's okay, my love. I'm here. I got you. I will never let go.” 

_______________________________

A/N: decided to split the chapters after all since i have not finished the last scene yet and otherwise this chapter would've been very large. the last chapter shouldn't take too long to come out though. in any case, send me your thoughts as they keep me going and as always

[munsonsmixtapes]

Hey, I love your fics. I have a request. Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Roadie!Reader meet-cute

Ooh, yes! Thank so much for reading and the request, lovely!

rockstar!Eddie x fem!roadie!reader

Not proofread!

The venue was much hotter than it should have been when you got there. You were very late to your first job and the heat only made your nervous sweating worse. It was your first time very working as a roadie, so you weren’t exactly sure what to do. Since it seemed to be a more male dominated job, you were sure that not many of them would let you help.

You were very right. It seemed that all they let you do was set up the mics for the performance that was happening that night and getting waters for the ones who were doing the “real work” since they had been working so hard. What bullshit. You could have lifted just as much or maybe even more than those guys and now you were reduced to fetching water and ordering them food.

You had been too busy putting in everyone’s orders on your phone that you hadn’t even been looking to see that the large cart rolling down the hallway, heading straight for you. Just as you looked up to see it, you were pulled out of the way, your back pressed against someone’s chest.

You turned to get a look at your savior and gasped as you came face to face with Eddie Munson. He was even hotter in person with his signature cropped muscle tee and short shorts. Worry was written all over his face and he reached his hand out before pulling away, not wanting to cross any of your boundaries by touching you.

“Are you okay?” He asked, his eyebrows pinching together. “That thing almost took you out.”

“I’m good,” you smoothed out your shirt. “Thanks for saving me.”

“Oh, it was my pleasure,” he winked. “Always a pleasure to find an excuse to speak to a pretty little thing like you.”

“You’re a rockstar. I hardly think that you need to find excuses to speak to women.” You were sure that Eddie could have had any woman he wanted with a snap of a finger just because he was famous.

“Maybe not,” he shrugged. “But I did want to talk to you.”

“About what?” You had no idea what he would’ve wanted to talk to you about n

“I’ve been watching you today and do you always let people speak to you like that?” He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall while he lit up a cigarette that you knew for a fact was prohibited.

“Like what?”

“Like you’re a piece of gum on the bottom of their shoe. You have just as much right to be here as they do, you know that right?”

“Do I? I don’t fit in here. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.”

“Then just do what I do.” He took a drag then pulled the thing from his mouth.

“And what’s that?” You quirked an eyebrow and he smiled while he blew the smoke through his lips.

“Fake it til you make it. Act like you belong and eventually you will.” You knew what he meant, but you weren’t sure you could do that. You were always terrible at doing that when you had tried in the past.

“What’s your name?” He asked before taking another drag then offering you the cigarette which you declined by shaking your head.

“Y/n.”

“Well, y/n, I’ve gotta get to soundcheck. You gonna make sure I sound good?”

“Of course,” you nodded enthusiastically while he pushed off the wall. He then headed down the hallway before stopping and turning to face you.

“And if those guys give you any more shit, let me know and I’ll deal with them.” He winked one more time then rounded the corner, leaving you alone in the hallway. Maybe the tour wouldn’t be so bad.

[captainlondonman]

SKIN NEIGHBOUR

Dave was sad to see his neighbour, old Mrs.Dawson leaving for the Rest Home. She had been a good neighbour but been fairly bedridden for a while and Dave had been good at going in to help cook and clean. That was why he had a set of keys for the apartment and it was only after she had left that he realised he had not handed over the keys. Still when the new people arrived he could drop them off.

That Saturday as he was quietly listening to some music he heard  raised voices outside and looked through his spyhole. Standing outside were three skinheads in full gear opening up Mrs. Dawson’s front door laden with boxes

Fucking great place you got here mate. It’ll be a fucking great party place. Before we do anything to unpack you let’s open a few bottles to celebrate. You’ll sure waken up the neighbours here. Bet they are all a bunch of tossers. We’ll show them what fucking skins are eh?

It was clear which was the new occupant and the other two were smaller but chunky in build, with thick necks both covered in tattoos. Their legs looked as if they had been poured into their bleachers and both had them held high with braces showing off meaty bulges.

With that the three went inside and banged the door shut. In minutes Dave could hear the music being switched on and the guys shouting at each other always with expletives

‘Christ this is going to be awful. I’ll have to complain to the authorities if this gets out of control. And for now I certainly am not knocking on that door to give the keys back. They’d probably let loose at me and I’m not risking that.’

The music continued as did the shouting until mid evening when Dave heard two policeman at the opposite door. Shortly after they left the music was switched off and two of the skinheads came out to leave. One of the two crossed the hall and shouted through Dave’s letterbox

“It fucking well better not be you or else we’ll get you’

‘Thank God they have left and not all three are living there.’

Next morning as Dave was getting ready for work he heard the door opposite open and he looked through his spyhole.

The skin was the same height, perhaps a bit broader, still in full gear with oxblood boots, yellow laces, tight fitting bleachers that stuck to a good sized arse, a Fred Perry black T shirt and a black bomber jacket. As he looked at the back view Dave could see the word Skinhead heavily tattooed on the back of his neck. The guy turned round as if he almost knew he was being watched and gave a finger up sign at Dave’s door.

The guy looked a pure thug with his shaved head and slightly bulbous nose as if he had had it broken in a fight plus a good solid neck. On the one hand Dave was terrified but on the other seeing such a real thuggish man was also turning him on to the point that he could feel his cock inching down his trouser leg. As he rubbed his semi hard dick he thought perhaps I should just put the keys through the letterbox but then the guy would know who Dave was. On the other hand as he had the keys perhaps he could go and have a quick look as it was clear the guy had gone off to work. The temptation was too much. He wanted to see what had once been a really nice tidy apartment.

Opening the front door he could smell stale cigarette smoke as well as left over beer. In the kitchen apart from pizza boxes empty cans were scattered across the work top. In the living room an ashtray was full of ciggie butts. What took Dave’s breath away was the huge Nazi flag that had been pinned up and took over one wall. When he then checked out the bedroom a large black rubber sheet covered the bed. However this room was much tidier with a selection of boots and heights and differing laces on the floor. On a rail several pairs of bleachers hung, various colours of Fred Perry shirts and a few bomber backets in black, green and brown. The guy was obviously proud of his clothes. Lying on the floor scrunched up was a jockstrap, clearly used.

As Dave looked at the jockstrap he started to imagine what the guy must look like wearing it and when he gingerly picked it up he could see the well formed bulge that the guy’ cock had stuffed into it. He wanted to sniff it but it was too dangerous to do there so quickly he left the apartment with the jock strap. Sitting on his own sofa  he studied it and could see heavy piss marks but sections were crusty where the guy had obviously had the remnants of cum from sex sessions. Dave ran his one hand over the pouch feeling the crust, his other hand starting to massage his own dick. He needed to sniff and take in the full odour of the piss and cum. At first he just lightly smelt but the strong stench of a good week old jockstrap was too over powerful and he needed to get his nose right into the pouch. He wanted to feel the guy’s cum all over his face as he rubbed it over his cheeks and stuffing it up his nose savouring every part of the stench. He could imagine the guy pissing and not getting rid of the final dribbles so the piss could soak into the jockstrap. Also if the guy had had sex, why wash when his jockstrap could take the last parts to ooze out. Thinking of the guy, Dave was so bloody horny and unzipped his trouser to take out his now fully erect 7inch dick. It was a good thick piece of meat and the little sex Dave had had, his quickie partners had always remarked on the girth and heavy knob head. Now stroking his dick he needed to taste the cum and piss mix and slowly let the jockstrap slip into his mouth.

‘Shit what a taste, this is so bloody amazing. I can just see the guy now.’

By now his hand was fully rubbing the entire length of his cock and he pushed the jockstrap fully into his mouth  down the back of his throat letting his saliva take the full taste. He was almost gagging but the groaning started to increase as he felt his cock so rigid that the precum was oozing out the tip. Dave leant back on his sofa arching his back, his head raised with the jockstrap firmly down his throat, his hand now pummelling his dick. With one final jerk his cock erupted load after load of white cum over the floor and sofa.

As Dave pulled out the soaking wet jockstrap he thought

‘This is one of the best orgasms I’ve had in ages. I’ve never thought much about Skins in the past but thinking of the neighbour messing this up and looking so aggressive and butch is too much. I’m so glad he lives next door and that I still have the keys. I’ll let it dry out and carefully put in back tomorrow when he is out.’

Sure enough next day when he heard the Skin leave he waited a short time and then let himself in to return the now dry jockstrap and place at the side of the bed., just tucked under the rubber sheet so he might think he had kicked it out the way. Standing there looking at all the gear made him horny and made him wonder what he might look dressed in in it all after all the two were about the same size

‘I would so like to see me in all that, and feel what its like to be powerful, a yobbo a skin. I’d never dare go to a skin pub or pick a guy up like that but part of me would love to look like one. This is too good an opportunity to let pass. I know I just have to do this.’

Dave pulled out a pair of bleachers, a white Fred Perry, yellow braces and black Ranger boots with yellow laces and finally a green bomber. Standing there naked his cock was fully erect as he tried to stuff it into the bleachers. It made a huge outline down the leg and he moved his big balls behind his cock pushing his dick even further out to accentuate the hard line. It took him some time to lace up the boots but by looking at posters of skins around the room he could see how it was done. He loved the weight of the soles and how they encased his legs making him almost feel like a hardened yob. Next the Fred Perry and braces and finally the Mac bomber which had a set on wings embroidered on the back. This was better than he could have imagined. He felt transformed. He opened a couple of drawers and on the top of one was a lycra black hood with eye and mouth cut outs.

‘Bet he wears this on the prowl when he’s looking to beat up guys. It will make him feel more aggressive and dominant.’

 As he slipped it on over his head he felt himself more a man, more ready to fight. In the corner of the room was a baseball bat. ‘Christ the guy really did like trouble. I wouldn’t stand a chance meeting him.’

Clutching the bat he stood in front of the full length mirror.

Dave could not recognise himself. Gone was the wimpy college boy and instead was a skin in full gear holding a bat with a stiff cock bursting out of bleachers. He felt himself empowered  staring at the mirror. He looked like a skin and now he felt like one staring at this rough vision of someone he’d love to be

‘I’m a fucking skin, don’t fucking mess with me, I’ll fucking lay you, fucking bat you to bits. Us skins dominate I’ll fuck you to bits till your arse aches.Us skins only fuck skins.’

Putting on his working class accent Dave shouted at the mirror with one hand waving the bat and the other rubbing his cock through his bleachers. He had never felt like this and already a small patch of precum was showing through the bleachers. He had never felt so horny as he unzipped his fly and plunging his hand deep inside he pulled out his thick cock the head now glistening with cum.

‘I’m gonna fucking shoot this skin cum straight at you, you bastard, get ready Im a fucking skin. No one messes with me. Skin. Skin, skin. Oi Oi Oi’

His hand was now sliding up and down his shaft as he stared at his alter ego. ‘Fucking cum now. See how much cum a skin has’

And with that he shot a heavy load of thick white cum over the mirror.

As soon as he had cum he realised he needed to get out of the gear and get back to his real life but more importantly put everything back as it was and clean the mirror of the cum that was now running down the glass. He had to leave the place exactly as it was. He carefully put the clothes back exactly as he had found them, set the bat as it was and the boots in the same line up. By the time he got into his own flat he was exhausted from his orgasm but on a such a high seeing himself as never before.

‘Christ I would love to be like that instead of my weak pathetic self that I am.’

For the rest of the day he could think of little else and even in his dreams he saw a fierce looking skin coming towards him. All he wanted to do was go back the next day and repeat. He so wanted to see his vision changed and to cum in such shedloads

Sure enough the Skin went off to work and an hour later Dave let himself in. He decided to wear a different assortment of skin gear so put on the Oxblood rangers just like he had seen his neighbour wear and he chose a very bleached pair of jeans which showed off his erect cock even more as there was a little more space to allow the bulge look even more obvious. A navy T shirt and the brown bomber jacket which had SKINHEAD emblazoned on the back. He loved how he looked like another skinhead and would act out the part again to make himself so bloody horny it was painful to hold back coming. He found the hood but not the baseball bat which for Dave was all part of the aggro he wanted to create for himself.

‘It must be in the sitting room’ he thought and he opened the door to go in and check.

As he walked in the two Skinheads from last week were sitting on the sofa  beer and ciggies in hand with their booted feet up on a table.

‘Well who the fuck do we have here?’

As Dave froze in the doorway a strong  arm suddenly came round his neck in a stranglehold and he felt a thick metal collar being locked into place around his neck and padlocked. He was terrified as he felt a low sneering voice in his ear saying

‘So you’re the wimp from next door who has been breaking in to my pad. I don’t fucking taking kindly to the likes of you and no doubt you’ve been jerking off in my clothes.’

Suddenly one of the other skins shouted.

‘Fucking hell, Rick, the bloke’s pissing himself and in your fucking bleachers.’

Sure enough the terror had been too much and what started off as a small damp patch appearing at Dave’s crotch was now showing a long line of piss running down one leg all the way down to the boot. He was pissing so much it was also now running down the front of the bleachers having completely soaked through.

Rick yanked the chain attached to the collar forcing Dave’s head back, and with Rick staring at him spat out a huge gob of spit into his face and took one hand and rubbed it well in, gobbing a second time.

‘You fucking little shit. You’re gonna pay for this. You think you can piss in my best bleachers so you can fucking drink the stuff. Joe go and get the special hood for this little wanker but drink up those beers so you give him a real golden shower.

Joe came back with the hood and rubbing his dick with excitement.

‘This is gonna be fucking great. Serves the bastard right ruining your bleachers. We’ll make him pay.’

‘Lets see what the bugger looks like first’ and with that Rick pulled off the lycra hood

‘What a poncy little wimp we have here. ‘Ill tell you now you bastard you will not be leaving here looking like this. Now let me get this hood on you. ‘

The hood was made of leather straps and buckles which Rick secured into place and on the strap that went over Dave’ mouth was a hole with a rubber tube. ‘Breath in for the moment mate but there’s one final piece to be added and with that he rammed a funnel into the other end.

‘There we are so who’s first to let him know what piss really tastes like. He’s already gobbled my dirty jockstrap. Yeah mate did you think I hadn’t noticed? So you’re big on piss? Go on Joe get that rancid cock of yours out and see how much he likes it.’ As Rick said this he tied Dave’s hands firmly in rope behind his back.

Suddenly Dave seemed to realise what was happening

‘Please don’t do this, I am really sorry. I know I’m wrong and I’ll pay for your new jeans and anything else but not this.

‘Not this? You’re the one who drank the piss from my Jocktrap, you’re the one who has pissed himself in my best bleachers. So piss it is and loads of it, so start to swallow

With his hand ensuring the tube was well into Dave’s mouth  Rick shouted at Joe.

‘Go on let him have it. Let me see that piss of yours go all the way down.’

‘Do what Rick fucking well tells you, you slob because you’re doing my boots next, as he emptied his piss in to the funnel. Joe let his cock hang into the funnel and with one large belch his piss started pouring out of the cock and into the funnel.

‘ Shit Rick he’s trying not to swallow. The funnel is filling up.’

‘You little bastard’ and with that Rock slapped Dave across the face. The jolt and shock made Dave open his mouth wide and the piss poured down and Joe’s cock kept releasing more and more beer piss.

‘Right enough Joe, let Fred have a go and he can taste each of your piss.’

Joe stood back flipping his dribble cock into his bleachers and Fred took aim into the funnel his long thin cock being set into the funnel.

‘Christ I love this, seeing a guy take my piss’

With that Fred started stroking his cock as he emptied his piss into the funnel.

‘Keep that knob on for later. You’ll get the chance soon enough’

‘Christ the guy can’t get enough the way he is slurping it down.’

At first Dave felt he wanted to retch as the acid burned in his throat and even though he was tied with Rick holding by the neck and chain, there was something about the beery flavour as well as seeing two skin heads in front of him opening their flies and letting him see two rancid cocks release their piss especially Fred’s  erect cock which had to aim so carefully so as to make the funnel. Dave’s own cock was almost involuntarily reacting and he could feel his dick lengthening down the wet piss stained bleachers. Two skins bearing over him making him feel subservient was in truth what he had wanted.

‘Now put yer cock away Fred time for the next stage. So now you bastard with all that saliva and piss we need our boots cleaned. My turn first’

Rick pulled Dave off the chair by the metal collar and chain.

‘Get down on the fucking floor and start licking’.

As Dave went down on his knees he looked up at Rick and could see the skin was getting excited. There was a thick outline of a rigid cock down one leg. The guy sure had a good sized 8” prick.

As Dave bent to start licking so Rick firmly placed his other booted foot on Dave’s head forcing it hard down his mouth being crushed against the boot

‘Get yer fucking tongue out of yer mouth and start. I wanna see these boots sparkling with yer spit.’

‘Do what Rick fucking tells you as you’re doing my boots next’

‘And then mine’

Rick bent over taking hold of Dave’s head and yanked it up and down his boot watching Dave spit all across the toe caps.

‘That’s better boi. Us Skins like our boots shining. Now do the other’

Dave continued to let his spit and piss mix spread over the boots until Rick pulled him up by the chain and moved him over to Joe who bent down and gobbed into Dave’s face.

‘Now use some of my spit to make em more shiny, got it’.

There was no point Dave saying anything. He was completely under their control and if he complained he would only be mugged big time.

‘You’re good at this boi. Well need to get you do this more often.

‘Make sure he still has some spit for my boots’ Fred shouted. He also bent down and whacked Dave across the face.

‘You make me so fucking annoyed boi for breaking into Ricks pad. Lick my boots and soles I want to see my face in them.’

Dave was being forced down against the boots his arse up showing his good sized round cheeks tight against the bleachers.

‘Shit Rick the boi’s got a brill arse. We ain’t leaving that alone Just looking at that ripe ass is making me cock nice and hard he said stroking the enlarged length. Ain’t got me jock on so nice an easy to whip me dick out.’

Rick said ‘Well boys the next move is for you. Do as you like.’ Joe placed his hand over Fred’s dick outline and rubbed it.

‘Always luv that cock of yours Joe. This boi needs it.’ And with that he took his heavy hand and whacked it across Dave’s cheeks making him wince in pain. Seeing him react Fred decided a few more slaps would warm up his cheeks ready for entry. Fred bent down and put his hands around Dave’s waist to unbutton his flies

‘Fucking hell boys, the lad’s luving this . His cock is like a metal pole and a thick one to. He must luv his cock being soaked in his own piss and us skins on top of him. No bloody wonder he loves our gear.’

Fred eased the jeans down to expose Dave’s arse. ‘Nice and red now boi! You like a slap. Let’s get you ready.’

 He put one finger in and started to move it around

‘Plenty of space there for a good fuck mate’

He then put in a second and a third and finally a fourth

Rather than screaming Dave felt good with the fingers in him and moved his arse up.

‘Christ you’d take a whole fist mate by the looks of things.’

Taking his fingers out he put the hand around Daves face and smeared any shit off them

‘If you can piss yerself like that boi then you can take yer own shit’

‘Time for my cock to get inside that arse of yours.’ Fred said unzipping his bleachers and pulling out his erect dick with the red head pulled back and nicely exposed.

‘What you looking at Joe, get that cock of your ready, were a couple so we fuck together right. Get on yer knees beside me. I go first and then you.’

Both Fred and Joe knelt behind Dave’s arse. Fred put one hand around Joe’s shaft and with the other opened up Dave’s crack to ease in his cock.

‘It may not be the thickest but I’ll give you a good length. What did I say you could take a bloody ship up there boi.’

Fred slipped his dick in and moved it further up, Dave letting out a groan

‘You fucking love this boi eh? Well let’s see how you like two dicks up you.’ Fred then widened Dave’s cheeks to make his hole more exposed. ‘Right Joe get in from the side but put a gob on it first to help our young friend.’

Fred put one  arm around Joe and with the other took his dick and pushed it into the side.

‘Open up that fucking arse of your boi Joe wants in. Push it Joe’

With one sharp push Joe’s cock slipped in alongside Fred’s

Dave yelped with pain as his hole had to expand to take two cocks but once past the entry he felt pleasure and the need for them to push their dicks up further.

‘Christ Rick stop rubbing that prick of yours. I know you get a real knob on watching Fred and I fuck together but the boi can give you a good blow job. Hoist his head up with that chain of yours.’

‘Too fucking right Joe I need to shed a load of cum from watching you’

And with that he hoisted Dave’s head up in the steel collar so Dave was looking straight at the 8 inch dick now bursting against the bleachers. Rick pulled Dave’s head in to him

‘Suck my dick through me bleachers boi.’

Dave could not wait to feel the cock in his mouth with the bleachers between.

‘Please take it out Sir so I can get it all the way down my throat.’

‘Jesus boi what a horny bugger you are. Two cocks up yer arse and all you want my by whopping great prick down yer throat. It ain’t gonna be easy prising this monster out of my bleachers.’ He said with his hand firmly down one leg trying to pull his rigid cock out. Suddenly it sprang out of the bleachers and hit Dave in the face.

‘Like that cock of mine hitting you? Well let’s hit you a few more times’. As he whacked it across Dave’s face leaving a smear of precum

‘Now open that mouth of yours wide.’ Already the saliva was dribbling out of Dave’s mouth in readiness. He wanted to choke on Rick’s cock and feel the cum being forced down the back of his throat.

As Ricks cock entered Dave’s mouth so Dave started to push his arse back  to let in both cock further up his hole.

‘Christ’ he thought ‘I’m serving 3 Skins. It is like a dream’.

Joe and Fred turned to one another and started deep throat kissing , both so fired up being up the same arse and also seeing Rick so horny as his cock slipped further and further into Dave’s mouth.

‘That’s it boi take it all Let me feel my pubes against yer mouth.’ As Rick shoved his cock deeper into Dave’s mouth so Joe and Fed pushed their dicks further up their lips still glued together.

‘Christ boys I am really getting off watching you two fuck. This fucking prick is gonna get a river of spunk down his throat.’

As Fred and Joe stopped mouthing Fred looked up and said

‘Bloody hell Rick I didn’t think the lad would be able to take that big dick of yours. I’ve never managed the whole length. Shit you are the whole way down. Come on Joe its time for us to let him have it. A few more pushes  and I’ll come.’

The two skins worked the arse together and with one wail they let their loads shoot up Dave’s arse, groaning loudly. Rick seeing his mates spunk found it all too much and firmly grabbing Dave’s head said

‘Take the whole fucking lot boy. As he shot his spunk there was so much Dave could not swallow and it started to ooze out his mouth and down on to his Fred Perry, a long line of white cum. Rick kept shoving his cock against Dave’s mouth

‘Christ boi what a fucking throat. This is the best blow job Ive had in a long while.’

‘Jesus that was fucking amazing Rick. This kid loves a good fuck. Looked as if you made him swallow a shedload of cum.’

Rick wiped the remaining cum across Dave’s face

‘Now use your tongue to lick that up boi.’

Dave was no longer frightened. He was with 3 skins and they all had shot a load either inside his arse or down his throat. He almost felt like one of them.

‘Right guys, now fuck off I have the last bit of work to do with Dave boi. But first bring me the razors and shaving foam. I don’t want you here for that otherwise you both become too fucking horny again.’

Joe and Fred did as told

‘Now fuck off. Right Dave boi bend you head forwards and lets get this fuzz off that head of yours. You can’t wear skin gear with all that hair. Why the fuck do you think we are called Skinheads eh? Now you wont need to wear a mask to imagine yerself as a skin.’

Rick took the razor over Dave’s head initially giving him a number one so he only had  tufts left and Dave watched his locks fell to the ground almost relieved this was happening. Rick covered his head with shaving foam and started from the back moving the razor up from the neck and over the top. As he moved around Dave he could feel Ricks cock pressing against his shoulder and it was not soft,  far from it. He had a bloddy great knob on.

‘So you like feeling my knob against you whilst you get shaved eh?’

‘That’s some dick there. Can you please rub it a bit more.’

‘Right fucking little poofta. I can see your own cock stiffening nicely.. Lets get this job done.’ Rick continued with more foam and kept on shaving until he pressed his hand over Dave’s head and was able to feel its smoothness.

Then taking a hot cloth he cleaned Dave up and stood back rubbing his dick with satisfaction.

‘Now the important bit.’

He went out the room and came back in with a full leather hood with no eye or mouth holes. Coming out from various parts it looked almost like electrodes.

‘Lets get this on you,’ he unzipped the back part and slid it over Dave’s head, it sliding on nicely now he was totally bald.

‘A perfect size’ Rick said as he zipped it up. ‘Now smell the leather, good ain’t it.’

Dave nodded not knowing what was going to happen next

‘You’re gonna feel a few sensations but it only takes a few minutes and then you will feel more like us, as it’s what you really want.’

Again Dave nodded.

‘Right I’m switching on now.’

A sudden current made Dave jerk, he felt a heat wave running through his head, a thumping he’d never experienced. It was as if a light was trying to remove everything in his brain and he was totally unable to fight it. He did not want to fight it. It was almost a comfort to feel nothing. There was a pause and nothing happened for what seemed ages and then suddenly his whole head felt as if it was going to explode. He started to feel angry, aggressive even his thoughts were basic and he was sure he could feel his voice going through a change as he groaned with the impact of the charge. He wanted out of this he wanted to take charge.

Rick unzipped and took off the leather mask.

‘Fucking hell, I love it, you have SKIN tattooed across yer scalp. Brill. Now I am gonna untie you and take off the�� neck shackle so you can see yerself in the mirror.’

Dave silently stood up and looked at himself in the piss stained bleachers, boots and bomber jacket but now gone were the locks of hair Instead he stood looking at a full bodied skin with a scar running down one cheek and SKIN tattooed over his head.

‘Right mate’ Dave barked in a deeper rough voice ‘you and yer mates have fucking put me through all this and if you think that dick of mine is not gonna cum now you’re fucking wrong.’

And with that Dave attacked Rick with a full punch into the stomach winding him and as he collapsed forward so Dave moved in. and put Rick into a stranglehold

‘You made me a fucking skin so now you’re gonna get fucked by a skin and I can see that dick of yours waiting to burst out of yer bleachers. Did you not think I could see that rear arse zip in yer bleachers. So much for big tough guy. Ye love a big cock up that arse of yours.’

Dave pulled down the rear zip and put his hand into Ricks crack.

‘Nice little hairy bum you have there Rick boi. By the time I’ve fucked you my cum will be stuck to all these hairs as I pull out.’ As Dave’s hand explored the crack and put two fingers up exploring the space.

‘Fucking nice hole boi’ he said taking his fingers out and smearing them across Ricks mouth. ‘Now taste yer own fucking shit, good ain’t it?’

Rick was in such a stranglehold he could not reply but he was suddenly aware of Dave’s fat cock pushing its way in to his craqck.

‘Don’t worry mate I let a good gob onto my cock so it’ll slide in nicely.’ As Dave pushed so Rick instinctively moved his arse back to meet Dave’s shaft.

‘That’s it boy you are fucking desperate for this. Its sliding in a treat. Now lets feel that cock of yours’

Rick was pushing himself into Dave’s shaft so he could feel it going right up to the hilt and Dave put his hand in and unleashed a good thick and long dick.

‘Shit you’re hard man. Lets make sure we come together.’ As Dave started to pummel Ricks arse he put his mouth against Rick’s neck and started kissing almost sinking his teeth into the neck. Rick was groaning with pleasure.

‘Not so much a tough guy now, eh Rick with my dick stuffed up yer arse and that cock of yours in my hand is just luvin it all. That’s it push yer arse all the way back into my prick

‘Shit Dave boi that cock of yours feels so good and your hand rubbing up and down my cock you sure know how to wank a guy. Christ my balls are ready to burst. Go on keep ramming that dick into me, fucking well take me. I can feel your precum oozing into me but I want all you can give. Go on give my tits a good nip.’

‘So you like yer tits worked on, you should have said mate.’

Dave moved his free hand up Ricks chest and gently rubbed his fingers over Ricks left nipple rubbing it through his Fred Perry

‘You don’t want a rub do you mate? More like this.’

And with that he pinched the tit hard.

‘Fucking hell man that hurts’

‘It’s what you want so stop being such a babe’, Dave barked as he continued to tweak.

‘Not so bad now is it the way your moving about. You just love my cock up you, my hand wanking your prick and now having your tit worked on. It’s sure got me so fucking horny I am ready to let rip up yer arse.’

‘Fuck man let me have it I’m also ready to shoot. Wank me harder, that’s it Shit I’m cumin’

‘Take all my cum Rick boi’

And with that Dave let loose spurt after spurt up Rick’s arse and Rick with final groan shot his load with Daves hand firmly around his shaft

‘Fucking hell man, I haven’t had an orgasm like that for ages. Thank God you let yerself into my pad and decided you love us skins.’

Dave gave his final shot up Ricks arse  and as he pulled out he swung Rick round and kissed him roughly putting his tongue well down Ricks throat.

‘Yeah mate thank you. I’m so fucking glad I’m no longer that pathetic  jerk and now I know I’m one of you bois. I’m a Skin’

Rick took hold of Dave face as they kissed and said

‘You are my Skin’.

‘Too fucking right babe’

‘You can keep that set of keys but I want a set of yours and its time we got out and got your yer own skin gear though having you wear my stuff makes me feel so horny.’

‘Right let’s get out pick up some gear and then go to the skin pub for a few beers with the blokes and you can show me off and then its back here as I want to feel that 8 incher of your up my arse’.

‘I was think the same bro. Its gonna be a long night.’

‘Not just the night mate’