#LIVE LAUGH LOVE FRANK SINATRA

[sir-meows-a-lot]

WHAT do you guys know about my boy Frank Sinatra !!!

[amathslutsguidetofandom]

This is what I think living with Beefy!Bucky would look like:

THERE ARE TWO PARTS, SFW AND NSFW (please read the warnings before you start reading, and lemme know if I missed anything!)

Warnings: allusions towards sex, allusions towards unprotected sex, shower sex, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, spitting on v and Beefy!Bucky being hot (yes that's a warning). Please feel free to DM me if I missed anything :) SFW:

Bucky would walk around only in sweatpants (of your choice, obvi🤭). His muscular chest and back are on display 24/7, and he'll only wear a Henley (you bought one in every colour for his birthday) during the winter.

You would only wear either one of his T-shirts or Henleys around, with a pair of underwear and that's it.

Ya'll cook dinner together every night. Bucky bought an old record player so, he could play all the old records you got him for Christmas. And while dinner is cooking, he'll pull you to the side by your waist then slow dance with you to either Ella Fitzgerald or Frank Sinatra.

"C'mon, doll. The rice is not going to get burnt. It's jus' one dance. F'me?" He smiles, as he pulls you in by your waist. You smile at your man begrudgingly, and place your palms on his bare chest, "fine. But just one song." You say in your playfully stern voice. Bucky laughs and presses a kiss to your hairline, "anything for you, doll."

You sweep and dust, Bucky mops and vacuums.

He'll let you get any household accessory for ya'll's apartment, whether it be a trinket, a fake cactus, or a picture frame.

"Are you sure?" You ask, holding onto the snow globe with a little glass dachshund inside of it. Bucky laughs and rubs your back, "s'fine doll, I think it'll look great next to the record player," he gives in to your want to buy the snow globe. You squealed when you first saw it, and Bucky knew he had to get it immediately.

You'll be singing a song with headphones on, making some coffee in the kitchen, and just dancing wildly. And Bucky would just lean against the wall of the hallway, just staring at you lovingly.

Laundry day is actually fun, you would fold the cleaned and dried linen and clothes. While Bucky would put them back in their drawers and shelves (using his astonishingly tall height).

NSFW(alright here we go):

If you're bending over the counter to wipe a specific mark that won't go away, Bucky won't be able to hold himself back.

You bite your lip in concentration and scrub at the mark with a wet sponge, but it doesn't go away. Suddenly, you feel two large hands grab at your hips and pull you back. "Fuck me, doll. You can't do that," he growls into your ear, slowly shoving your underwear aside. You giggle and ask what does he mean. "You can't be bent over the counter and then not expect me to fuck you," he shoves his own sweatpants down. You roll your eyes, as you feel the tip of him at your entrance. "Bucky," you whine, slightly pushing your hips back in his direction. "Yes, sweetheart?" he smirks, pressing his lips against your neck. "Buck, I need you," you softly moan and throw your head back against his shoulder. "Oh I know baby, me too," he whispers in her ear.

When he comes home after a long day, and hear's you in the shower, he will not hesitate to jump in with you.

He drags himself to your shared bathroom and hears the creaky pipes of your shower being used. He smiles and walks into the bathroom. You smile when you see him, "Hey, love. How was your day?" He smiles as he starts undressing before hopping in the shower with you, "better now that I'm here with you." He kisses you passionately before pushing you up against the wall, he slightly bends and grabs the back of your thighs. "Jump" is the only word he growls against your lips. You giggle and jump slightly, and your legs are wrapped around his waist as he uses his godly strength to hold you up against the wall. You moan, as you feel him rub his tip on your sensitive button. "Bucky, baby, please," you whine as you grip onto his broad shoulders. "Oh doll, you don't have to beg me. I going to fuck you either way."

Morning sex is an everyday thing that happens at y'all's apartment. He'll either wake you up to the scene of him in between your thighs. OR. He'll wake you up with his cock inside of you. Either way, you're not complaining.

You stir at the tingly feeling between your thighs, and you open your eyes groggily to see Buck (and his beefiness) wrapping your thighs around his head. He winks and smirks at you, "mornin', doll." He licks a thick strip up your slit, and you arch your back at the sudden sensation, "ah! Bucky!" Bucky continues to swivel his tongue over your clit, knowing how much you love it. Your moans slowly get louder, as Bucky soon pokes at your hole with his thick fingers. Soon you're wailing in pleasure, and grabbing at Bucky's hair begging him to make you come. "Come f'me, princess," he says before spiting harshly on your pussy.

🎀🎀🎀

Please lemme know what you think, this is my first piece of work 😊.

If you have any feedback, feel free to DM me.

Thank you for reading lovelies!!

Stay Coquette-y,

Anya 🫶🏽🕊️🎀

[hearts4golbach]

if you do requests can you do any Johnnie Gulibert x fem reader fluff please 🙏🙏

Somethin’ Stupid.

Johnnie Guilbert x Fem!Reader.

sorry if this isn’t fluffy enough, i had this idea and song stuck in my head and thought it’d be perfect!

Johnnie sat in the living room on his phone as we waited for Jake and Tara to come over. the four of us frequently had dinner together, at least once a week. this week was at me and Johnnie's shared apartment. it was small but cozy. the faded maroon couch creaked as I plopped down next to him.

"You gonna help me cook? I was thinking we could make, like, lasagna or something. I don't know, I want pasta." I rambled, running my fingers along his tattoos.

"Of course," he kissed my forehead before checking the time on his phone. "it's only 3, they won't be here until 5:30."

"Well, yeah. i was thinking we could make everything from scratch. I know you're not a huge person on cooking, but it'd be fun if we did it together." I say shyly.

"you really trust me in that fucking kitchen?" he laughed, "I'd probably burn this place to the ground."

"yeah, right." I roll my eyes and stand up, gripping his arm in an attempt to pull him up. "Come onnn!" I whined, "we have all of the ingredients and everything."

he sighed dramatically. "fine, only because I love you."

"lazy bitch." I teased before making my way to the kitchen, johnnie not far behind me.

I listed the ingredients we needed off some random website so he could gather them. he was already moaning and groaning about how he's going to fuck it up.

"well, since I'm here, you can only fuck shit up if you try really, really hard." I tilted my head, putting my hands on my hips.

he waved his hand around. "whatever you say. let's do this shit authentic, dump the flour straight on the counter."

"johnnie, do no -" before I could protest, he had dumped a cup of flower onto the counter. "I'm not fucking cleaning that up."

johnnie giggled and finished putting the correct amount of flour into our freshly cleaned counters. “okay, maybe we should mix the wet ingredients in a bowl first and not dump them on the counter like an idiot.” I rolled my eyes.

he fluffed his hair. "but that's so boring."

"at least it's somewhat practical. also, I hope you remember what has happened on that counter between us, just saying." I grabbed a bowl out of the cabinet. his face flushed light pink as he smiled. "wanna mix?" I handed him the whisk after I had put all of the wet ingredients in.

as he mixed, I cleaned up after him. I grabbed the flour and began to walk back towards the cabinet whenever johnnie moved and bumped into me, causing flour to go all over my face and stick. "...johnnie!" I scolded.

he whipped around and laughed at the sight. "sorry, babe." he cheezed.

"not funny, get me a towel or something. be a good boyfriend." I pestered, attempting to seem angry but not being able to manage it. i let out a laugh as i looked at myself through the reflection of the microwave. i watched as johnnie wet a towel before coming over to me and wrapping his arm around my waist. he pulled me close and began to wipe off my face. “thanks, baby.” i smiled, pecking his lips before pulling away and getting back to work.

he finished mixing and looked at me for permission to dump the shit on the counter. i rolled my eyes once more and nodded, “go ahead. it’s too late now.”

he giddily dumped the wet ingredients on the table, clapping and acting like a child with excitement. he began to mix everything with his hands and i helped him. “this feels so weird.” johnnie snickered.

i giggled, “well, yeah.” i lifted my hand up and wiped egg residue on his face.

he hunched over, gagging before wiping himself off with the towel. “ugh!”

“love you.” i smiled, wrapping up the dough and putting it in the fridge.

he grabbed the ingredients for the sauce as he read them from my phone. meanwhile, i began to shred cheese. “i don’t even eat half of the shit on this list. mushrooms?!” Johnnie joked, making me roll my eyes.

“mushrooms will be on the side, mainly for Jake and Tara if they want them. we can have a fancy dinner!” i protest, putting the cheese off to the side as i began to cut the mushrooms. Johnnie came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist as i cut. “you already done putting the sauce together?”

“yeah, it was easy.” he smirked, resting his head on my shoulder,

“did you do it correctly?” i emphasize, scooping the chopped up mushrooms into a pan to cook them.

he snorts, “i hope so.”

i triple checked to make sure everything was running smoothly before starting the oven. i hummed along with the Frank Sinatra record playing quietly in the background. i stirred the mushrooms, adding seasoning and singing to myself. “and then i go and spoil it all by saying somethin’ stupid like, ‘i love you.’”

“you’re so beautiful,” Johnnie commented, stirring the sauce before walking off to set the table.

i blushed just as hard as i had since we first started dating, things Johnnie said to me never got old. i continued humming along with a smile on my face. Johnnie began to wash plates and utensils, which were matching matte black with silver accents. i turned to look at him, unable to hold back a smile when his gaze met mine. i had always hated singing in front of people, but Johnnie loved it.

we quickly assembled the lasagna, as our time was running out quickly, it was already 5. we had lost track of time talking while everything cooked. after putting it in the oven, Johnnie kissed my forehead. “we did great.”

[wxnheart]

hi! can I request each of the task 141 boys and what they would be like dancing with the reader in the kitchen at like 1 in the morning? thank you in advance if you do this, it’s been in my brain all day :)

𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐳 - 𝐓𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞 𝟏𝟒𝟏 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

scenario - It's the middle of the night and you can't sleep. The music plays softly in the background ("Fly Me To The Moon"), you're munching on a late-night snack, and goodness, the house feels lively and the atmosphere is just... right. Your handsome soldier is roused from his sleep and comes looking for you and your midnight waltz is born.

𝐂𝐩𝐭. 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐞

His bedhead is adorable and rubbing the sleepiness from his eyes makes him look so... boyish.

Of course, he inquires as to why you're up at this ungodly hour. There's beauty sleep to be had.

You'll acquiesce on one condition. He has to slow dance with you.

Once he realizes what song is playing, there's a cheeky twinkle in his eye.

He pulls you close. You wrap your arms around each other and just slow dance in the kitchen, Frank Sinatra crooning in the background.

Your rest your head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat and his chin rests comfortably on top of your head, and all is well.

And no, he didn't doze off mid-waltz. What are you talking about, darling?

𝐊𝐲𝐥𝐞 '𝐆𝐚𝐳' 𝐆𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤

Gaz was worried something had happened to you and was surprised to find you relaxing in the kitchen.

When all is deemed well, he takes the opportunity to adjust to the light and just... let the tension ease its way out of his body.

In the meantime, you take the opportunity to pull him into your arms and slow dance.

Gaz stiffens up a little before getting comfortable in your embrace. This is rather new to him and he's never had to do something like... dance before. At least, not like this. Okay then...

This turns into an opportunity to teach Gaz the basics of slow dancing.

And at least you guys can say you had a reason for sleeping in later that day. Win-win.

𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧 '𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭' 𝐑𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐲

Simon was so damn anxious that he did an entire sweep of the house thinking something was wrong. You just watched him. It was a second before he turned and saw you chewing silently.

He gives you his signature "What the fuck?" look. ("Couldn't sleep and I was hungry. Want some?" ".....")

Ghost'll rub his face tiredly and it hits you how worried he was. Of course, the bastard would never express it in words but you practically see it in his body language.

You quickly rush to comfort him. You apologize profusely and hug him, which turns into a slow dance of comfort.

Simon will bury his head in the crook of your neck and commit your scent to memory like always.

And you will take this opportunity to cop a feel of that perfect ass and hear him groan in longsuffering Ghost as always, voice gravelly (when isn't it?) with sleep.

"Didn't know my waist was back there." "Me neither. ❤️"

𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐧𝐲 '𝐒𝐨𝐚𝐩' 𝐌𝐚𝐜𝐓𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐡

Soap was also thirsty and came down to grab some water so win-win there.

You two shared a late-night snack and when what was playing, he was surprised you liked this song. Never took you for an Oldie lover. You're so full of surprises and he can't get enough of it, it seems.

You hold your hand out in invitation and with a cheeky ass grin, he takes it. You pull him close and voilà!

Quite romantic this dance is. You're serenading him as you dance and yeah, Soap's loving it. Stop, he's not blushing. Yeah, he is.

It was all well and good until you tried to dip him and, uh... you two fall on the kitchen floor. Somehow. It was goddamn funny.

You two spent the better part of a minute and a half just laughing your asses off.

And afterward, the song is done, and having shut everything off, Johnny takes your hand and leads you back upstairs for a midnight waltz of his own.

[c0wb0yenthusiast]

Country Boy

Phillip Graves x f!reader

PART ONE!

Summary : it’s been 10 years since you packed up and left your small town for greener pastures, but after recklessly deciding to come back after so long you’re reunited with the former love of your life - Phillip Graves

Word count : 3.4k

A/N : as metroman would say, ‘my death was highly exaggerated’. Sorry for taking so long to put something out but hope that everyone enjoys! Yearning part 3 is also in the works <3

“One day, when we’re out of here - just you and me - I’m gonna ask you out real nice, darlin’.”

It’s August, 1994, nearing the end of high school. It’s a humid Friday evening and the both of you are sitting on the edge of the dock that only the town fisherman knows about. But he’s not here tonight.

You chuckle at him, “Thought you said you’d never consider leaving, Phil.”

He’s got that dorky grin plastered on his face, his dimples visible.

“If it were with you, I’d leave in a heartbeat.”

“I knew you’d say that!” You hit his shoulder playfully and he can only laugh.

It’s your usual thing; sitting together on the docks after school until late as possible. As late as it can get before your papa considers reaching for his rifle to find the troublemaker keeping his daughter out till ‘God knows when’ as he said. So you cherish these childish yet heartfelt moments, even if you’re both 17 and have big lives far ahead of you.

“What? It’s the truth, hon.” He smiles, wrapping an arm around you.

“I wouldn’t have guessed otherwise. I’m not the kind of girl you lie to, Phillip Graves.”

“So does that mean you would?”

“I would what exactly?” You cock an eyebrow at him, expecting a dirty joke of some sort.

“You know.. go out with me. Real fancy, too. I’ll dress up and everything, just for you.” He adds, his hand now reaching for your face.

Your breath hitches at the way his thumb brushes over your bottom lip. You stole your mother’s lipstick for moments like these. Leaving that little red stained mark on him.

He withdraws his thumb slowly, squinting in the dark. You could see the way his smile grew as he examined the smudged rouge on his fingertip.

“That’s pretty, darlin’. That for me?”

What comes out of your mouth is a whisper and you couldn’t explain why; maybe it was the glint in his eyes as he said it, the way his lips were parted slightly as he looked back up at you from his hand.

“Yes.. Yes.” You swallow thickly, your gaze fixated on him and what he could do next.

“Really? Well, I think that answers my other question then.” He’s beginning to get up now and your eyes widen as you frantically get on your feet to follow him.

“What does that mean?”

He stops in his tracks, turning to face you again. He’s still smiling but his arm is now concealed behind his back.

“It means that I know it’s the right time to give you this.”

It’s a small box.

You approach him slowly, your bare feet not making a sound on the wooden boards of the dock. Once you’re finally inches away from him, he flicks it open.

A ring. A beautiful ring is now before your eyes; a small, golden ring with a big, shining gem in the centre.

You could cry, and you almost do as you let out a choked sob but Phillip quickly wraps his arms around you.

“Don’t- don’t cry, sugar.. unless they’re happy tears, I hope.” He murmurs into your ear, hand caressing your back gently.

“They’re happy. They’re so… so happy, I swear.” You catch yourself between your gasps for air.

He waits a moment, taking the time to memorise the way your bodies align. How perfectly they fit into each other. But when he pulls away, a hand comes up again to wipe your tears.

“I just thought… even if- you know, you go to do the amazing things that you’re meant to and I end up staying here or there… That I’ll always be with you. Just a little part of me you can carry around forever. Now, why don’t you try it on and see if I got the measurements right, okay?” He prompts carefully, allowing you to hold out a shaky hand as he slots it into your finger.

“It fits like a glove, Phil. I can’t believe you did this..”, you take a deep breath, trying not to cry.

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re the only girl I’ve ever want to cherish like this.” As he brings his finger away from your cheek, he leans in.

You share a kiss that you could’ve never imagined happening with any boy in that wretched town.

Except, Phillip Graves was the only thing that made staying there worth it.

-

You must have been daydreaming again, playing with the ring still on your finger after all these years.

You run a completely different ship now; miles away in the city, married and thriving.

You would’ve never believed your future turned out like this. Not without Phillip.

A business all to yourself and your husband, and hopefully for your future kids too. A display of pride and joy that you’ve managed to work for and build with your own hands.

You attempt to direct your focus to the ring that your husband gave you instead. It’s silver and covered in small little gems, always sparkling in some way. A way to represent how your husband’s love seems to be only visible in objects. How they won’t stop pestering you at this rate.

Five years have gone by since this much flashier ring was presented to you on your summer vacation.

And now you’re here - surrounded by bustling trains, people and business that you can’t seem to escape.

The rush of the city never seems to alleviate, even if you’re a day away from your vacation that you’ve been planning for weeks now.

No husband. No business or constant phone calls. Just you and the countryside.

Obviously, you weren’t entirely sure on the idea of going back there. Not after that charming rascal Phillip Graves.

But your ma and pa kept calling which made you realise you just needed a break from the city. You needed the hot, dry days and cool, breezy evenings back at the family house. When your pa used to come back after work almost covered in sweat and you’d still run up to him and hug him like he’d just come back from war. The fresh pies you’d try to eat even when they were too hot and you still kept the piece in your mouth because you were so hungry. Those foolish nights when Phillip would knock on your window after hours and you’d sneak out to the wildest places imaginable - it was all such a daydream that you never would’ve wanted to leave.

But, this is where you are now.

You place your coffee cup down a little suddenly onto your desk, raking a hand through your hair.

“Louis? Louis, honey?” You get up and charge out of your office, looking both ways down the hall.

“Louis?” You repeat, calling out to him.

“Yes, baby?” He’s walking towards you at a leisurely pace, phone pressed up against his ear as he lowers his voice to talk to you.

“Do you uhm.. need me here right now?” You bite the inside of your cheek as you wait for an answer - a finger held up to your face.

Wait.

Your whole face seems to scrunch at the sight of it, frowning as he laughs and smiles at his phone.

“Right- yeah, I’ll call you back. No, it won’t be long.” He ends the call, putting his brick phone into his suit pocket.

“What’s up?”

“I said, do you need me to be here?”

“Well, it’s nice to have you around. Always helpful to have a spare hand.”

“Yeah, I understand. But-“

“Is it about your trip? You’re not going?”

You sigh.

“No, I am going still. I just want to get ready now since it’s going to be a long drive and I don’t want to waste time tomorrow.”

“If you say so. But what if I need you here right now? You’re going to be too busy packing for the hillbilly hellhole.”

Okay, your marriage isn’t the most functional. Or romantic.

Louis isn’t horrible - just a little less emotional than you would’ve hoped. Maybe even a little manipulative. But who’s psychoanalysing that, because it’s definitely not you.

It’s very obvious that you’re the only one that notices this behaviour.

You try not to dwell and take another deep breath.

“Well, my parents live in that ‘hillbilly hellhole’ and I’d like to pack all my extra things so I will be going now.”

“Alright, if you say so.” He waves a hand carelessly at you. Dismissing you.

You don’t say anything back, you can only bite your tongue and grip your suitcase handle like it’s about to fall off.

It was never this bad at the beginning, but that’s what they always say, isn’t it?

Recently, he’s just been so out of touch with you and your love life but you don’t even want to know why. It could probably break you, or worse.

So now, here you are, packing frantically for that ‘hillbilly hellhole’ that you call home. You don’t even know why you’re so excited, the items seem to fly into your suitcase as you run around the house to grab anything else you might need. Even if the majority of it is still in your old room, waiting for you expectantly.

That morning felt like the beginning of something big.

Getting up at the crack of dawn, brushing your teeth and getting ready for a holiday that you’ll never forget.

Jumping into that car felt like a breath of fresh air as you rolled down your window hastily, not bothering to bid goodbye since you’re too busy hitting the road.

It’s a nice feeling; being able to have your music turned up as loud as you like as you get to look out for all the wonderful sights to see on the journey. It’s a sense of accomplishment, that’s what you declare to yourself as you rifle through your CD album to choose the next one to play.

It’s even a shock when you find some hidden CDs you burnt when you were younger, the sound of nostalgia bringing back memories of your childhood.

The hum of the dingy, flickering bulbs in the gas station seem to be the only thing you can focus on as you slowly prowl the aisles, waiting for something to catch your eye. Colourful, fluorescent wrappers seem to jump out of their display and into your hands as you collect many sugary delights that would make your husband cock a brow at you. But he’s not here, so you pay no mind as you take them to the register and pour them all in the passenger seat before you get back on the road once more.

The roads seem to blend into each other as you continuously drive for what seems like days, when in reality is only a couple of hours. It’s much more tense when you consider what awaits you back home.

It’s been at least 10 years since you’ve left, and you never looked back.

Sure, family would come to visit the city and you’d enjoy that; it was easier being able to forget about what was left behind. Yet it still doesn’t seem completely buried, as if it’s dormant and waiting for you to release it once more.

It wasn’t long until you’d arrive soon. You were beginning to recognise the trails and overgrown trees arching over each other as you drove through what felt like a leafy tunnel, snippets of sunlight peeking through.

The breeze cleansed your skin, airing out the car along with the gentle way it soothed your skin as you drove at a leisurely pace.

As much as you were content right now, you knew it may not last for long once revisiting everything that was abandoned years ago. It’s definitely not ruining the atmosphere nor making you now more nervous than ever.

You’ve made it.

You almost want to stop your car in front of the town’s welcome sign, but decide against it and instead drive even slower to encapsulate the same old views that you used to.

As you look around, nothing has changed.

It’s still the same old town, with only minor adjustments to keep up with the times. It’s as if someone’s polished it ever so slightly, while keeping the same ‘look’.

You could turn back. Nobody has seen you yet, it could be your chance-

No. You’re here now, there’s just no point in cowering away.

Pulling up to the familiar drive of your family home, the fresh scent of washed linen and lavenders waft in the air. Your mother has clipped the washing up in the front yard, just like you remember, and your father has clearly been tending to the garden like he’d promised you.

Ten years ago.

It’s beginning to form a pit in the bottom of your stomach. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea from the start.

Just and you’re about to turn to your car, a voice suddenly shrieks.

“Honey!? Is that you?” Your mother’s hands tremble, the basket of sheets toppling to the floor as she brings a hand to her face.

You didn’t realise she would’ve had this sort of reaction, but you didn’t want to question it at all.

“Mom, don’t cry!” You walk over to her, wrapping an arm around her reassuringly.

“I’m- I’m not, baby..” she inhales shakily, “Oh, maybe I am. Look at me.. crying like this..” she murmurs, wiping her eyes gently.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.” You whisper.

“It’s okay, dear. Just wait until your father hears.”

Your father was absolutely enthralled seeing you, almost as emotional as your mother as he hugs you firmly.

It’s been too long. Why did you leave them behind like this? That’s the main question running through your head, even if you had the rightful reasons to leave you couldn’t help but still feel guilty for what you did.

After a heartfelt moment of hugging and exchanging ‘I missed you’s’, you finally get to come inside the house.

It’s barely changed, still your dreamy childhood home. The floorboards still creak in the exact spots they used to, reminding you of the way you practically jumped over them when it came to sneaking out at night.

The furniture stayed quite similar, even the new items still referencing to the old ones that used to be there. It felt as if you’d walked into a time capsule.

“Oh, honey, it’s so good to have you back. Maybe we should arrange a small get together. Just to celebrate.” Your mother chimes, smiling as she follows you, still entranced by the same childlike wonder that seemed to come back after all these years.

“We kept your room just the same.” Your father adds, smiling at your excited grin and haste to run up the stairs to what used to be your room.

You almost shriek at the sight of it when you push open the door hurriedly.

It’s just the way you’d left it. Feminine, soft pinks decorate the room as your antique vanity catches the corner of your eye.

“Wow. Wow. Wow- it’s just- so..”, you sniffle and take a deep breath. You can’t cry again, it’ll wear you out at this rate.

You practically topple onto your bed. Relishing in the threatening squeak of the mattress as you sink into your duvet. It’s the same duvet, but smells fresh.

Knowing your parents, they probably washed it while you were away in hopes that you’d come back.

Your mother stands by the doorway, watching with a warm smile as nostalgia floods both of your senses.

“I’ll take that as a yes. I’ll invite all the neighbours, even that Phillip boy-“

You whip your head around, eyes wide.

“Is- is that necessary, ma?”

“Why? Did something happen?” She frowns.

Your father calls from down the hallway, “Do I need to get my rifle back out?”

“No… it’s okay, pa.” You get up and walk over to your mother, who takes your hands in hers with concern.

“What is it then? I don’t have to invite him if you want.”

You shake your head slowly.

“It’s okay.”

“You sure?”

You nod.

-

The next day had began to eat at you with anxiety before it even began.

You woke up earlier than you were supposed to, waiting under the covers as you listened for any movement of some sort.

Clear.

You get up, open the curtains to meet a dreary ray of sunlight slowly enveloping your whole body as you push them open further. It’s warm, almost welcoming as you smile to yourself.

However, beneath all of this was a growing fear now seeping into you.

It had been years since you’d heard the name ‘Phillip Graves’ and you were hoping you wouldn’t have had to hear it again. But it was clearly inevitable.

You splash a little water onto your face and wrap one of your dainty silk robes around yourself, it’s too early to properly get ready for the day.

This prompts you to sneak downstairs, tiptoeing slowly as if you were in a mine field. You didn’t want to disrupt your parents right now.

It’s almost instinct when you turn towards the front door and unlock it, breathing in the fresh summer breeze. Your shoulders relax and somehow you feel at ease.

Now on the porch, you ease yourself into the familiar swinging bench that used to be your favourite spot as a teen. You vividly remember waiting in this seat when Phillip promised to pick you up for a date in his daddy’s worn out truck.

Memories.

You lean back, wistfully closing your eyes as you sink into the cushions and let the memories take over your mind.

That’s why you’re almost sure you’re hallucinating when an oddly familiar revving of an engine blares in your ears as this clearly imaginary car halts to a stop.

You snap up, blinking drearily as you immediately look in the direction of the noise.

“Sugar, what are you doing here?”

No way.

You don’t move, you can’t move.

It’s Phillip Graves, the former love of your life.

He’s hopping out of his truck, staring in disbelief as he saunters towards you. He’s chuckling, placing his hat firmly on his head as he steps cautiously onto your porch.

“Am I dreaming? Or is your dad reloading his shotgun at this very moment?” He smiles, now seemingly unfazed after a few seconds of processing the sight before him.

You, on the other hand, are not responding very well to this. You wrap your robe over your chest in sheer embarrassment while still looking up at him, slack jawed, from your seat.

It finally takes a second for you to shake your head and say something. It comes out a little quiet, shaky even.

“They’re… uhm- they’re sleeping. Right now.” You respond, swallowing thickly and watching his every move like a hawk.

“Hm.” He nods, pursing his lips.

“It’s just you and me then, huh?” Phillip leans against one of the wooden beams of the porch railing, eyes scanning up and down your body.

“Yes.” You whisper, tempted to get up and strangle the cocky smirk that spread across his lips.

“It’s been awhile, didn’t think you’d show up again.”

“No.. no- well, yes it has- but- but I mean no I didn’t really think so either… not so soon..”

“How come?” His responses are snappy, he doesn’t look at you anymore as his eyes dart over to the front door.

“Uhm, I was just going to visit when I got married but.. changed my mind.” A weak chuckle escaped your lips, which you mentally berate yourself for.

“Well, sugar, this has been nice. Tell your daddy that those parts for the fencing have arrived for me, okay?” He questions, cocking a brow at you.

You nod once more, still so shaken.

“I need words, honey.”

“Yes..”

“Good. I’ll see you later. At your little ‘get together’.”

And with that final farewell, he’s turned away and seems to already be starting up his truck when you’ve blinked.

You would’ve thought he’d changed, maybe even softened after your last night together. But it’s shocking how he managed to sober up a few seconds after seeing you.

You can only watch limply as his truck fades away in the distance.

Was he hiding something?

[pennylanefics]

Strawberries - Jack Drury

a/n: i reblogged this list of single word prompts and decided to write blurbs (or short fics) corresponding with those for the days of may :D each fic/blurb will have the word(s) included at least once, but not be solely based around it. i hope that makes sense lol

summary: you spend the night with jack for the first time at his place

word count: ~ 1.6k

“So here’s the bathroom, I can show you how the shower works, extra towels are in that little closet if you need an extra, I um, I think that’s everything?” Jack’s nerves were through the roof as he showed you how to turn the shower on.

Tonight was the first time you were staying the night at his house, and he was beyond nervous yet excited. Your relationship was still fairly new and there were still firsts that the two of you have yet to have, and staying the night with each other was one.

It wasn’t exactly planned, but since there was a snowstorm that was not letting up anytime soon, you decided to just stay over, knowing there was no possibility that you’d be able to drive home. Jack was happy to have you stay, and he’d much rather have that than risk you getting into an accident.

You’ve been to his place plenty of times, but this was going to be new, sleeping beside him, him holding you as you slept, waking up to his sleepy eyes and morning voice. 

“Jack, I’ve been here plenty of times,” you rest your hand on his arm, trying to calm him. “I’ll figure it out.” He sighs softly and nods, looking down at you.

“Um, I’ll have dinner ready in about twenty minutes, so take your time,” he smiles at you, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he leaves you to shower and get dressed in the set of clothes he got for you.

You take a ten minute shower, feeling the warm water run over your body, shielding you from the chilly air that was overtaking the house the more that the snow fell onto the city. After drying off and brushing your hair, you throw on a Cane’s t-shirt that Jack always wore and a pair of sweats that he hasn’t worn in years, and you finally go out to the kitchen to find Jack cooking and listening to Christmas music.

Approaching him, you wrap your arms around his waist, startling him for a moment. He laughs and sets the utensil down to place his hands over yours.

“Hey, you,” he whispers, turning around to hold you in his arms. “Have a good shower?”

“Mhm,” you mumble against his chest.

“Dinner should be ready soon,” he states, resting his head against yours, slowly starting to sway back and forth with you. “Dance with me?”

‘I’ll Be Home for Christmas’ by Frank Sinatra starts playing and Jack pulls away to look down at you, reaching for your hands and moving you to stand in the middle of the kitchen. A smile stretches on his lips as you start to slow dance with him, your eyes locked on his bright blue ones, a sight you could get lost in for hours.

The house was still aside from the boiling pasta behind him, the snow continuing to fall just outside the window, but nothing else mattered than you and him in this moment. Leaning forward, he presses a soft kiss to your cheek, nuzzling his nose against the same spot afterwards.

His phone goes off halfway through the song, signaling that the pasta was done cooking. Shyly, he moves away from you and goes back to the stove while you walk over to the large glass sliding door that leads to his back porch and yard, watching as the white flakes blanket the wooden beams and grass, though both of which were completely covered at this point.

The two of you enjoy a lovely dinner in the candlelit living room, which Jack was lovely enough to set up for a little romantic setting to watch Elf, to keep the Christmas mood up, of course.

“So, the house usually gets cold during the nights in winter, so I sleep with a few more blankets than usual,” Jack tells you once it was time to settle in for the night. “I uh, I just pile them on top of the comforter.”

Jack’s nerves were back and it was very obvious. He was trying his hardest to make sure you were comfortable, and he didn’t want you to feel unsafe or anything.

“Jack, hey,” you once again reach for his hands to bring him back down to earth. His breathing was slightly erratic as he looked at you, fear in his eyes. “Why are you so nervous, baby?”

He sighs and rubs his face with one hand, his face flushing deeply.

“Because I want everything to be perfect,” he whispers. “I want you to be comfortable and feel loved and safe here and it’s getting in my head. I-”

“I feel all of those things, tonight has been so wonderful, I’ve loved being here with you, and it has been so perfect.” Your words seem to ease him a little and he smiles at you. “I’m fine having more than one cover, as long as I get to fall asleep against your chest, I’m good.”

He laughs lightly at your last comment and he hugs you tightly to him.

“Thank you, darling,” he murmurs into your neck. “I’m sorry for being so erratic and everything, I just want the best for you.”

“And I have the best,” you plant a kiss on his cheek. “Don’t worry, Jack. Everything has been wonderful, and it’s no different than when I come over to hang out, other than the fact that we can fall asleep with each other.”

He blushes again and grabs your hands once more, bringing them up to kiss the back of them.

“You’re so sweet.”

Jack piles two extra blankets on top of his black comforter before helping you under the pile, crawling in after and pulling you right into his arms. He holds you tight, your face smushed against his chest, his scent surrounding you, an intoxicating mixture of his cologne, body wash, and laundry detergent that have been left on the fabrics of everything.

Your eyes flutter closed as his hand snakes underneath the bottom of your shirt, softly stroking the sliver of skin above your sweats on your lower back. His touch was so warm and gentle, it was enough to soothe you to sleep for the night.

Morning rolls around and as you slowly awake, you realize Jack’s arms are still around you, his eyes still closed, his eyelashes resting on his slightly tinted pink cheeks. It was a wonderful sight to wake up to, and it instantly puts a smile on your face.

Your hand raises to play with his blond hair, but your touch happens to wake him up. Instantly, regret fills you as his eyes peep open, but the look in them when he sees you, half asleep in front of him, is suddenly worth it.

“Well, you are a beautiful sight to wake up to,” he says, his voice rough with sleep, but a teasing hint makes its way in as well. Your face heats up in seconds, resulting in you hiding your face in his shoulder.

“Says you, who wakes up looking like a prince,” you comment. He kisses your temple and pulls away from you, stretching his arms above his head.

“Want some breakfast?” He asks, sitting up and giving you a nice view of his back muscles flexing underneath his shirt. Your hand trails up his back and you watch as he shivers a little, eliciting a giggle from you.

“That sounds good.”

“Alright, stay put, I’ll be back with some things in a few.” Turning back around, he places one more kiss on your forehead before trudging out of the room. You remain laying in bed, looking around his room at the pictures hung up and different trinkets laying on his bookshelf and dresser.

It was a typical man’s room, but you could tell it had a touch of Jack. Hockey memorabilia filled a single shelf of the mahogany bookshelf right next to the bed, photos of him and his dad and uncle scattered around, the puck from his first NHL goal in a display case; the idea of him displaying it proudly makes you grin.

You are so lost in your own thoughts, you don’t even hear him come back, until he’s setting a tray of food down in front of you.

“Alright, so we have toast and peanut butter with banana slices, there’s some extra toast in case you wanted some with jam, oh! I forgot strawberries! I know they’re your favorite.” The entire tray was filled with warm, delicious food. A batch of scrambled eggs, a couple fried eggs, toast, a bowl of fruit that didn’t include strawberries just yet, but had blueberries, blackberries, and bananas.

Jack darts out of the room before you’re able to say anything, and returns a couple minutes later with a bowl of freshly washed strawberries.

“There you are, lovely. Now, let’s enjoy breakfast in bed before we do absolutely nothing all day.”

You enjoy the breakfast that Jack made just for you and him, curled up in his bed, talking about what you wanted to do for the day, but seeing as the streets had yet to be cleared, there wasn’t much of an option than to just relax and maybe do some cleaning.

“So, does this mean you’re going to stay the night again?” He wonders with a lighthearted tone, after a full day of cleaning and no progress on the streets being plowed yet. It was nearing dinner time, and Jack was eager to spend another night with you and have you wake up in his arms again.

“Of course, if I’m going to be woken up with breakfast in bed again,” you tease back.

[ririroro3]

One for my baby…

- saturday nights with Captain John Price

It was like any random Saturday evening, the pot on the stove bubbling with water and the rhythmic chop chops on the wooden cutting board. I weaved with practice through the tiny kitchen in my apartment, putting together my weekend special: meatball spaghetti.

John was in the living room, setting up the projector he’d bought last week for our movie tonight. His mutters, groans and sighs while figuring out the instructions made me giggle as I drained the pasta.

“John?” I called.

There was a pause, before “yes honey?”

“Could you get me a handtowel please?”

With an mhm I heard John heading into the bedroom.

Then, after a few minutes you heard a familiar jazzy melody—my favourite song. I let out a soft gasp turning my head to look, and there at the door to the kitchen stood none other than Price himself, in all his glory, a hand-towel held out for me as he smirked.

I chuckled, taking a hold before pulling him along with the towel closer to me. “Well well..”

“Well well, indeed.” His grin widened, a hand coming to hold onto my waist. “Shall we?”

“Wait-” i laughed quickly turning around and washing my sticky hands. I then ran back to him standing in the middle of the narrow kitchen before putting my hands on his chest. “Ok ready!”

He couldnt help the laugh that reverberated through him, with his head shaking as he pulled my hand snugly around his neck. John began swaying to the beat of the song, one large hand placed at the small of my back while the other held onto my hand.

I smiled up at him, my gaze softening at his loving stare. “John…dont look at me like that.”

“Like what?” He tilted his head.

“Like that.” I plafully nudged my hip to his.

He smiled and nudged back, but right before i pulled back causing him to falter in his step. I laughed looking at him huffing.

“C’mere u-” he dragged me to him by my hips, and i let out a small gasp.

We continued to sway to the song, humming to the tune of the song.

“Make it one for my baby,” John sang bringing a hand to caress my cheek.

“…and one more, for the road.” I sang back, slightly leaning on my tippie toes to peck his lips.

It was like any random Saturday evening, the pot on the stove bubbling with water and the rhytmic chop chops on the wooden cutting board. And the familiar sight of me and john enjoying each other’s company.

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

(helo. this is actually my first ever time posting on tumblr. like ever. idk how to use this webstie and i feel like a noob so pls be kind. lets just hope my years on wattpad can help me adapt to tumblr lmOo)

[superblysubpar]

hi! figured i’d send in a little prompt if that’s okay, hope your writer’s block gets a little better :))

82. “I’ve been so horny all day.” for Steve if that’s alright! (up to you whether he or reader is saying it teehee)

ty in advance and have a lovely day <3

“You’re doing it again.”

Steve’s huff of breath leaves his nose loudly, glancing out of the corner of your eye, you find him banging his forehead lightly against the door frame. He mumbles something that sounds like sorry and spins on his heels, his socked feet slipping on the hardwood floors as the blue shirt disappears around the corner. Your mouth twists as you do your best to ignore his ass in the tight green athletic shorts.  

His woodsy cologne lingers, just as it has all day upon every interruption, mixing with the candle you have lit that’s supposed to smell like rain and autumn leaves. Remnants of your grilled cheese Steve brought you hours ago crumble on a plate, your fingers reach for an open bag of Sour Patch Kids as you click and unclick your pen. Popping a green one in your mouth, your lips pucker as you hum around the tart candy, highlighting a quote. 

Tangerine squares paint the floor of your living room, slanting and elongating more and more as the sun shifts, you smile at another quote from the director, making a comment in your notebook as you sit up. Propped onto your knees now, you quietly sing along to Frank Sinatra as your fingers hover over the piles of papers littered around you, searching for one in particular to make another note on. 

Steve can’t fucking take this. 

He leans against the center island of the kitchen, watching as your nose wrinkles when you go back to reading. You tap the pen to your lips as they move, reading out loud to yourself as your eyebrows furrow together. You're lit up in oranges and golds, his shirt and a pair of biker shorts so how could anyone blame him when he returns to the living room after barely five minutes since you told him he was doing it again. 

This time, as he quietly enters, you don’t say anything, eyes bouncing between the book and where your pen moves rapidly across the lined paper. 

Steve’s presence is all consuming, especially when he sits on you. His legs straddle your hips, thumbs softly rubbing at your lower spine and your head falls forward in a moan and he bites the inside of his cheek behind you at the sound. Steve presses a little harder, massaging up your spine as you go back to reading. 

The vinyl record crackles, Steve’s humming mixing with the scratch of your pen. You reach your fingers over your shoulder, holding a blue candy up to him - his favorite and your least - as you start telling him all about something you’re excited for in class. You light up when you talk about your project, about future ones, about an interesting fact you just read and so really, truly, no one can blame him for what he does next. 

Steve’s lips brush behind your ear, his nose skimming down the curves of it as his hands grip at your hips. Your breathy gasp of air is the only encouragement he needs to take it further. He nips at the dip of your neck where it meets the collar of his shirt, mumbling into your skin, “You’re so hot, you’ve been driving me crazy. I’ve been so horny all day.”

Your laugh makes his lips twitch against your shoulder blade, he whines at your teasing and the layer of fabric between him and your skin, “Babe.”

“I’m sorry, Steve, I had no idea unwashed hair and studying did it for you.” You pop another candy in your mouth, trying your best to ignore the way he feels against your ass. 

He squeezes at your sides, fingers curling around your hip and he tugs lightly, huffing out of his nose again. “You’re so focused, and smart, and passionate, and you look so cute when you’re singing,” he kisses over and over, up and down your neck, smiling as you tuck your chin down and squirm underneath him, “And you did that little dance when I brought you food, and I heard you in here grumbling about too many blue ones too yourself and-”

“Well there are too many blue ones.” You frown, biting your lip as his fingers roam higher against your side, warm pads pressing lightly to your soft skin. 

Steve smiles and only hums in response, feeling how you circle your hips back against him. He’s not even sure you realize you did it and he knows you’re just as worked up as he is. Your yelp is cute when he smacks one of your ass cheeks, grabbing as much as he can as he groans in fake annoyance, “And then, you’re lying here all damn day, with this ass in the air. What’s a guy to do, huh?”

Your giggle cuts off as he ruts himself into you, hands sliding up and up and up until his weight is against your back. His fingers run down your arms, lacing with yours as he presses them down into the soft carpet. Steve rolls his hips, lips soft against your temple and then your cheek as your eyelashes flutter closed. 

“Hmm?” He hums into your jaw, “I asked you a question, pretty girl, gonna answer me?”

Steve’s breath is hot against your neck, one of his hands releases yours, traveling back down your body, skimming the band of your shorts and tugging, snapping it against your hip as he pushes himself into your ass harder. 

“St-Steve.” Your back arches as his name leaves you in a breath, your cheek presses to the carpet, exposing more of your neck for him to assault with this tongue and teeth. 

He nips at your ear, thick fingers pushing past the lace he finds as his hand curls around to your front. He chuckles into your hair as his fingers meet your slit, wet for him already. His tone condescending, “I don’t think that answered my question, what’s the matter babe? A little kissing and teasing and that big brain is already empty, yeah?”

Your clit throbs at his words, fingers curling and gripping for purchase in the threads of the carpet. The whine that leaves your lips is pathetic, rolling your hips back in search for more. 

His hand is gone faster than you can respond, both on your waist and flipping you before your eyes are blinking up at him dazed. Steve’s hands hold yours above your head, both of your chests heaving as he hovers over your lips. He ruts himself into you and you know that asshole isn’t wearing boxers. His length barely separated from where you both want it, twitches against you, felt through the thin layers. 

His mouth parts yours softly, tongue slipping over yours a little filthy. Rolls of hips and noses nudged into cheeks, he kisses you like he’s wanted to all day. He only pulls away when he needs air, smiling as you whine and loop your hands around his neck, lifting and following him. 

His hair falls over his forehead, the orange and pink sunset coming in cuts across his eyes making them golden, his cheeks a complimenting tint that grows darker as he takes in your face too. He lets his top lip skim your bottom one again in a soft and brief pass, hands squeezing at your waist. Who’s he kidding, teasing you and trying to be all suave - Steve doesn’t even remember his middle name with the way you’re looking at him. 

His breath falls against your lips as he pleads rather than commands. 

“Can I fuck you so good all the studying you did today was for nothing?”

[user2772636]

Douzième Fille

12th girl

××《☆》××

××《☆》××

Looking back at the day you first met, you realise how far you've gone. You appreciate the little things in life and some little people, too.

===

Joseph Descamps x Reader

Warnings: This is literally just plain fluff, LAST CHAPTER OF DOUZIÈME FILLE!!!

===

===

Chapter ten: I love you

===

You had six best days of your life.

Paris, France. 1973.

The wedding was one of the best days of your life. You had a beautiful gown, a beautiful cathedral, a beautiful ceremony, and a beautiful husband.

Everything was perdect from the venue, to the food, to the gifts, and to the guests.

You saw old friends. Callum, of course, came and was pronounced man of honour by Joseph. Simone and Jean Pierre had gotten locked in about two years ago, right after they finished college. Michèle and Laubrac came back after profuse apologies of leaving. They haven't married each other yet, but you have a feeling it's soon. Also because Joseph told you that Laubrac told him that he'll propose soon.

Europe Trip, 1973

The second best day of your life was your honeymoon. You and your now husband went around Europe. Going to places you've already been and places you haven't gone to.

A side note, you left that celebrity profile ages ago. It was too toxic anyway, with all the drama you didn't want to get into. Callum did the opposite of this. You're happy for him. And his fiancé, or as he likes to call him, his husband.

Bordeux, 1974

Moving was hard, but it was the third best day of your life. And carrying Briseis was a part of it.

Briseis, your first born. She was named after a character from the Iliad, the same Iliad you had presented in that project with Joseph back in high school.

She was as bright as her father, always laughing and wanting to have fun. Joseph loves her so much to the point that he will always be the one to put her back to sleep when she wakes in the early morning. He does that because he loves you, too.

Bordeux, 1976

The fourth best day of your life was when you gave birth to George.

George was named after your late cat you had in high school. He was taken care of both you and Joseph, which held a special place in your heart. Truly, George, your cat was your first child. But, let's not forget Briseis.

Briseis was two now, gaining the ability to speak, walk, run, whatever drained her unsifting energy. You were most proud, as well as your loving husband.

One of these nights, you'd catch him talking to both of them, talking about whatever they wanted to talk about, telling them stories, showing them fun. They fall sound asleep after, and you, for one, are grateful for him.

Also, you adopted two cats. One Achilles, one Patroclus. What? You couldn't help it.

Bordeux, 1980

Only a few months ago, your beautiful Callum was born. He was obviously named after your best friend. Callum cried when he found out. That was the fifth best day of your life.

He flew all the way to where you lived, seeing as now he lived with his lover in Sicily. He gave him countless amounts of gifts, even the ones month old babies couldn't use.

The house was fully packed. Your three children, two pets, and a mother and a father. Their very beautiful father.

You were in your 30s now, and you're so glad you're in this age with him by your side.

You sit in your husbands office, reading a book in the corner of the room. He was finishing up some papers, cigarettes between his lips, and sometime later blowing out the smoke.

You were halfway through a stanza when you heard a record break. Music started playing, the volume going up slowly. You look up from your hardcover to Joseph standing there, hands in his pockets and an eye on you. You raise your eyebrows. He does so, too.

"Dance with me, honey." He says, walking towards you slowly after he butted his cigarette out. You roll your eyes, putting your book down.

"You'll wake the kids up with that music." Even after saying that, you get up anyways, grabbing the hands he offered you a while ago.

He shrugs simply, sliding a hand on your hip and raising his other. "We'll take them back to sleep then. Dance with me." He presses his forehead to yours, kissing the tip of your nose.

You can't help but close your eyes, relaxation hitting your body like a truck. It's been a while since you felt like this. You both had been so busy with work or with the kids. You needed this. He did, too.

He starts to hum along the song. "I can see it in your eyes that you despise the same old lies you heard the night before."

Your mind flashes back to your high school days. The weeks of ignoring each other was wasting time that could've been used for loving instead.

"And though it's just a line to you, for me, it's true and never seemed so right before."

You look back at the first day of school. You thought you hated him. You thought he hated you. But in trutg it was the opposite, he confessed. He loved you the second he laid eyes on you, and you had been too blind to see, trying to distract yourself from the fact you did actually love him, too.

"I practice every day to find some clever lines to say to make the meaning come true. But then I think I'll wait until the evening gets late and I'm alone with you."

Seven years you were away from each other. He told you how much he missed you that night after the gala. He told you he prepared, he practised, because he didn't want to mess anything up. You told him nothing could because even after convincing yourself in high school that you didn't love him, you still did.

"The time is right. Your perfume fills my head. The stars get red, and, oh, the night's so blue." He turns you to spin, and you get back to your place in front of him, swaying with a hand on his chest.

"And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like, "I love you. "" He looks deep into your eyes, now staying still. He takes your lifted hand to his lips, pressing his pretty pink lips on it.

"I love you." He says, the instruments in the background adding to the moment. You smile, and he mirrors you. You place a kiss on those lips, tilting your head a bit. You part away.

"I love you." You say, caressing his cheeks. You're so glad you ended up here. With him. This was your sixth favourite day of your life.

"Mommy? Daddy?" A tiny voice asks. You both turn your head to Briseis, eyes droopy and hair a mess. She walks closer to the two of you, and Joseph does the task of lifting her up to your level.

"Yes, sweetheart? Why aren't you asleep?" Joseph said gently, and you can't help but show a smile.

"I can't. I wanna hear a story." You two nod at each other before carrying on to turn the record player off and heading to Briseis' room.

Once you tuck her in well, leaving the bedside lamp on, you question. "Alright, which story do you want for tonight." Joseph sits on the other side, brushing your daughter's hair with his fingers.

"How did you two meet?" She asks, fluffing her blanket up. You and Joseph look at each other, smiling knowingly, before you continue.

"Well, this is where it started. It was 1963. They mixed boys and girls in the same school. I was the twelfth girl."

××《☆》××

End - Chapter ten: I love you/Douzième Fille Series

××《☆》××

The series has officially ended. I'm so sad and so happy at the same time. I can't believe it. It's been so long with this series, and it's over. Our babies have grown up and have their own babies.

To all the people who read this, thank you so much for keeping up with it. This was my first ever series, and its amazing how many people have come and followed the journey.

This is a memory that'll be embedded in me for the rest of my fuckign life, no matter how cringe that sounds, but it's true. I made a lot of memories with an online fanfic series. it's crazy

I love you all so much and want to thank you guys for the support. I will continue writing for joseph it just depends on my mood. I will now start to write for other ppl, like u guys saw me post abt hamzah.

ANWWW, it's been a journey. Thank you again, and I hope you all enjoyed it.

[airybcbyy]

🌹Come Fly with Me🌹

Keigo Takami x GN! reader

Cw! teeth rotting fluff , use of 'birdie' as a pet name/ kinda implied that more happens later ;)) (not edited or proofread at all)

synopsis! Keigo never thought he'd be the man to settle down, but here he was dancing to Frank Sinatra in the kitchen with the love of his life.

Keigo Takami doesn't believe he deserves love, but when he gets home and sees you cooking dinner in the kitchen he just wants to be close to with you.

You hadn't heard him over the music that was playing; keigo recognized it well. It was the playlist you swore would be playing when the two of you got married. “ one day ” he'd tell you, and as impatient a person that you were; you grew to be okay with that answer. You were happy just living the domestic life you had with keigo.

He came up behind you,grabbing your waist as you let out a loud as hell scream. You looked back at the pro hero,"Jesus! Kei! You can't do that to me!" And to keigo; you looked gorgeous right now. Hair in its natural state, not styled or anything- you were in an oversized hoodie and some grey sweats. God he could fall in love with you all over again.

“ sorry, birdie...didn't wanna interrupt you. You looked so..."he thought about the word to describe you before finally understanding just how to describe you. "...ethereal."he laughed as he looked at you.

You just gave him a kiss on the cheek before skipping one of the songs you'd grown to hate on the playlist. Suddenly, Keigo's favorite song started playing. ‘Come Fly with Me’ by Frank Sinatra. Keigo smiled as he pulled you away from the stove,pulling you towards his chest,"may I have this dance?"he got closer to your ear, kissing your temple.

You could only let out a small laugh,"the food, kei..." “Don't worry about that...just dance with me.” you knew that it wasn't going to matter, it was on a low simmer anyways but you were still nervous that you would ruin dinner.

Keigo took your waist in his hand,swaying back and forth with you in his grasp. The slow tune of the song was something that calmed him and you...you were something that riled him up. He sighed shakily as he leaned down,kissing your neck.

Frank Sinatra was one of the most romantic singers; everyone knew this.

He was getting riled up, especially when he felt your hands go up to his wings; caressing them without a second thought. “you're killing me birdie..." The man was pent up. Not being able to see you because of work, dealing with the LOV, and the stress he'd had about keeping you happy.

You were a simple being though; you appreciated him just talking to you. You'd be on your hands and knees for him even if he just gave you a smile. That's just the effect keigo takami had on people.

“you're gonna have to wait, my love."you whispered to him,kissing him as you swayed slowly with him, accidentally stepping on his feet. You were a clumsy person, anyone could see,but it was what made keigo love you even more than the average person could.

Dinner was your first priority, especially because you didn't want to set off the smoke alarms in your shared apartment like you had last week due to the same reason; keigo being needy. Pleasing Keigo was your second favorite thing to do, besides cuddle him, but sadly you'd have to wait on that for now.

“birdie c'mon...”the taller man smiled down at you as he leaned over and turned off the stove top, leaving you quite surprised. “kei- it's getting late! we have to eat-" but the impatient bird brain cut you off by grabbing your waist and basically dragging you to your shared bedroom,running into the walls a few times.

You let out a small whine as the kiss continued,thinking about the food that was going to go to waste as you felt his lips press to yours, seeming like keigo couldn't get close enough.

Kissing you, touching you, being with you was as close to heaven as Keigo could get, and he'd take it over those pearly gates any day,"don't worry, I'll make it up to you.”he whispered against your lips as he pulled away for a breath of air.

and with that you slipped into the arms of keigo takami, the man who could treat you like a god when he really wanted to-

frank sinatra still droning on in the kitchen.

slay? ANYWAY. this is my first time writing for hawks so I hope y'all like it!

[drea-ms]

UNSPOKEN WORDS AND THEIR LETTERS (i love you.)

げとうすぐる. Communication wasn't the best thing for you, but for the ones you love and cared for? You'd write and talk about for hours, maybe years

warnings. ANGST!!! erm suicide mentions. plot twist 😨. haibara isnt dead. shitty communication skills between sugu n yn. long. not proofread. inspired by somethin stupid by frank sinatra. grammar mistakes. a lot of stuff goes down. it will probably will next chapter too..... dunno what to add here.... also if you want listen to somethin stupid by frank sinatra!!!

back. masterlist. next.

You left him a voicemail that day, Words slurred, sore throat, the worst he's ever heard from you. Geto Suguru hates how too late it was for him and you.

Maybe this was the gods way of giving him karma.

He turns in his phone, goes to his voice mailbox.

"You have one message. To listen to this message press one. To delete this message press tw—"

"Um—Hey. I-I know now's not the best time to call you, you're probably busy and still mad at me. I don't understand why though. Why are you mad at me? Why is it that you have to find a way to blame me to make yourself feel better?" you paused, swallowing the pain that lies within your throat, he hates how he knows what you're feeling right now.

You sniffed and coughed before continuing, "Um—I'm sorry, for everything really. Now that I look back at everything, it was stupid of us to argue, I guess some people realize stuff really late, I really hope you listen to this message Sugu." Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Why is he feeling tears coming from his eyes, why does that nickname harm him a lot? Why do you have this effect on him?

You laugh with tears falling from your eyes, and Suguru wishes he was there to wipe them away. "Even if you don't, even if you don't ever see this message, I'm just glad I recorded it" you smiled, has the sunset ever looked as beautiful as it did right now? Do you think Suguru is watching the same sunset as you? You continue, "Hey, You remember when Satoru, dragged us out in the rain? we got all wet and later got sick. I think we were in our second year. Shoko got mad at us after and had to take care of us, Do you—" you choke up on your words before steadily repeat yourself, "Do you think, that whenever I look tired one day, will you drag me out to jump in the rain again?" The voicemail finished. The automatic voice came up,

"To hear this message again, press three, to save it press four, to delet—" he presses four, now crying his eyes out in the middle of his room. Geto Suguru truly was an idiot. It was finally night time.

When the news of the beloved [lastname] [firstname] was pronounced dead was a shock to everyone. What truly was more shocking was the fact that she left letters to everyone, one each, two to Geto Suguru. Each letter contained the same thing, to have fun, to not blame themselves and to live their best life. Why was his so different than the others? Why did he get two instead of one?

He knows the reason why, he just want to hear it from you.

The first letter read;

My dearest, Suguru,

I'm not good with writing my own feelings down, so writing this is already hard as it is. But, when you do get this letter, it means that something happened to me, or maybe I just never gave it to you and hid it or threw it away. Only time will tell.

Anyways, back to the reason I'm writing this letter. I don't think I've had enough time to tell you about my feelings. In the short time I have met you, I think I've fallen in love with you. Not in a just a crush type of way, in a way were if one were to ask me to write something about you they would get paragraph after paragraph of how I feel about you. Did you know that I would sketch you whenever I'm bored? I would draw you and somehow put you in any of my paintings, you remind me of so many things, yet i couldn't find the perfect time to finish painting you.

I think I've always loved you, I'm not sure when those feelings started, but, I knew from the way i tried to make myself more likeable to you. I would always practice every to find some clever lines to make the meaning come true, though i would always mess it up. I wanted to know whether you liked me too. And I think on that night, the one where we snuck out and headed to the bridge was the right time, your cologne (the one that smelt like mint & citrus and your cigarette smell) filled my head, I thought the stars went red and the night turned bluer than usable. I was confident to tell you my feelings, but I thought I would spoil the moment by saying something stupid like "I love you."

maybe we our communication skills aren't the best,

maybe we'll find each other in another life.

I love you.

[nickname]

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

she loves me.

she loved me.

Geto suguru remembers that night, the almost confession and how you looked. He thought you looked wonderful, a painting yet to be painted due to the amount time and work it would've taken. He also remembered that there was music playing, you've always like oldies, something about them maybe you like them. Maybe you're right, maybe the lack in communication skills was bad for the both of you.

So Suguru, ever so the stoic one, breaks in your room, with the extra key you gave him and sleeps in your bed for the first time in days.

"How long do you intend on hiding her, Yu?"A blonde, tall guy asked, "I, I don't know what you're taking about Kento-kun. Hiding who?"the shorter male asked, nervously looking anywhere but the blonde, Haibara Yu knew if word were to come out about you, he would be in trouble. "[Name]'s not dead is she? What—" he gets pulled into a empty classroom with the brunette, "Keep quiet, Kento. If word comes out and finds out to the higher ups that the child they been so afraid of is isn't dead, then everybody's gone." he said, whisper yelling at Kento. The blonde, surprised that his senior (the only one he respected really) was still alive, and the only person who was keeping her safe in hiding was the ever so sweet Haibara Yu. Now that Kento thinks about it, Yu is right, If word does come out and your alive and Yu has been hiding you, the higher up will have no chance but to execute the two of you.

"Who else knows of this?" is the only thing that comes out the blondes mouth, worried about who might know,

"Right now? Me and You. Just don't say anything and keeping pretending she's dead, it's better that way." the brunette says, the serious tone in his voice never fading.

The shorter haired boy walked away from the blonde, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Nanami Kento wasn't an idiot, he found the situation a bit werid, he kinda knew about you (you told him minor details.) and he knew who reckless you were, so you doing this was off. He exits the room, heading to his own.

"Do you know how many times I almost slipped the secret??? wayyy to many to count!" Yu says, pouting on his side of the phone call, it was midnight and everyone else was sleeping so he was trying to keep quiet.

"You know Yu, you really didn't have to do all of this." a female voice say, her voice deep and soft, smiling on her side of the call, sure she was in Seoul currently, but the time difference was the same, she knew how much the students needed sleep, she, herself was one too. "I feel greatful that you're helping me, Thank you."she said, looking out at the balcony, the night sky was shining brighter than before,

"It's no problem, [nickname]." he said, looking out by the window, a smile on his face, "You know, He's been acting werid since—" "I know, I think he read the letter, I don't know about the number, haven't gotten a call from him, maybe he didn't read it.""Maybe." he mumbled, a nervous smile on his face,

"Anyways, I have to go Yu. I'll talk to you when I can," you said, hanging up after saying your goodbyes.

Maybe, this was what you needed, Maybe not. Who cares. At least your dead.

VAL SPEAKS ?!!?? dawg this was supposed to be ready by last week and my tumblr was kicking me in the ASSSSS bro i couldn't move shit n all, but!!!! i finished it, and i'm almost done with the series!!!! can't wait to finish this and do midterms.... sorry it looks shit,,, was on a rush to finish this....

TAGS — @sad-darksoul

tags are open!!!

[eemcintyre]

All or Nothing at All (Tom Cruise)

TW- allusions to sex? Other than that, it's fluffy sweetness, a bit of angst, and then sweetness again.

Summary- Attending a friend's wedding compels Tom to ask you an important ~question~, and it invites a conversation about the direction of your relationship and your anxieties about it. Could be read as a prequel to "Something to Talk About" if desired??

I said I would do it, and I have finally delivered- I just had to muscle past the mire of depression and procrastination lol. I don't feel like this is my best, but hey maybe I'm wrong and hopefully y'all still enjoy it :)

It was long after sunset when the wooden front door of Tom’s Colorado home creaked open and he and Y/N stumbled over the threshold. Having just completed the short flight home from a friend’s wedding, they laughed and reminisced over the evening’s antics- the ceremony, the food, and the wedding party members who’d been caught hooking up.

“….But who do you think had the better speech?” Y/N hung her coat on the rack next to the door, placing her shoes, which she had removed long ago, on the floor underneath.

“Oh, definitely the best man,” Tom replied, tossing his house key onto the kitchen island, yawning and running his fingers through his hair, unkempt after the day of activity. “When he started dancing to his own rendition of ‘You’re My Best Friend’, I knew the competition was over.”

“He did make it pretty hard to beat,” Y/N laughed, following Tom into the kitchen. “But I think he was also already a couple of tequilas in.”

He slipped an arm around her shoulders, drawing her side against his chest. “I don’t know, you didn’t need any tequila to break it down pretty damn hard to the Spice Girls,” he smirked, quirking his eyebrows.

“And you loved every second of it,” she retorted, giving him a playful push as she stepped away to undo her upswept hair, which was half-falling down anyway. “But while we’re on the topic of the music- what kind of self-respecting wedding DJ doesn’t play ‘The Way You Look Tonight’?”

“Y’know, you’re right. I kept waiting for it and it never happened,” he marveled, disappearing into the living room as he shook his head.

“Tom?”

The notes of Frank Sinatra’s aforementioned tune began to lilt through the kitchen entryway, and Y/N wandered in that direction, leaning against the wooden support, smiling. Tom, who had been standing next to the stereo with an expectant grin when she arrived, approached her with an outstretched hand. They began to dance leisurely across the living room, the expanse of windows around them providing a backdrop of stars and silhouetted birch trees.

“I guess we’ll just have to get married so we can set things right. Play Sinatra’s whole discography,” Tom chuckled, holding Y/N’s hand against his chest.

“And then end the night with ‘Baby Got Back’,” she joked in return.

“Oh, absolutely.”

She joined Tom in the laughter until it seemed to go on for a bit too long, and she was struck with the notion he might not be entirely joking. The music seemed to recede into the background as the conversation continued.

“Y’know, this has all gotten me thinking… why don’t we get married?” He gazed at her intently as his voice took on an unmistakably sincere tone.

“What? Are you crazy?” she cackled, an intense blush climbing her face. He launched her into a spin as the music crescendoed.

“I love you. Why is that crazy?” he replied, once they returned to face each other.

“No, I mean, it’s not crazy.” With one hand she gripped his shoulder, and with the other, she stroked the side of his face. “Tom, I adore you and I’m really happy…”

“Then, what-”

“But you like everything to be new and exciting. You’ll eventually get bored of me.” Her laugh and an attempt at a forced smile faded, and she stared at the rug beneath their feet.

“Are you kidding?” Tom was incredulous as he gently gripped her chin, tilting her face upward again. “Or do you think maybe I need someone stable in my life that I can count on, who doesn’t spew all the fake bullshit that I have to deal with from everyone else?” Their dancing was now confined to only a small patch of the floor, where they were not so much dancing as just rocking back and forth. “Otherwise, the exciting stuff isn’t enjoyable. It just becomes constant chaos. And having all of this,” he gestured generally at the house, “It doesn’t mean anything to me anymore if I can’t share it with you. It’s just some lonely guy’s big, empty house.”

He finally paused as Y/N stared thoughtfully at him and he stared back, unsuccessful in determining whether her expression was affirmative or negative. As she appeared at a loss for words, he felt the continued need to fill the space.

“Sweetheart, you know I’m an all-or-nothing kinda guy…”

Finally, she managed to speak again. “You know I am too, and that’s what scares me. If I commit to you like that, I need it to be forever. I need to know that, when things get difficult, we’ll work through it and you won’t just leave like you’ve done before.”

As she referenced Tom’s past relationships, it stung, but he knew she was right. They had stopped dancing entirely by this point and simply stood in the middle of the living room with the stereo playing.

“I need to know that you’d always be in it one hundred percent, and not just when it’s easy and new and interesting and I don’t have any wrinkles.” She smiled ruefully, clutching his hands. “We’ve got such a good thing going. I don’t want to mess it up.”

“Darlin’, if you really love me like I love you- and I think you do- please don’t talk yourself out of this just because I know you don’t like change.” He cupped her cheeks in his hands. “I get that you’re worried, and honestly, I’d be a little concerned if you weren’t.” He shrugged, grimacing. “I’ve screwed up a lot, and I haven’t always been the best at decision-making. I know that. But there’s one choice I’ve never regretted, and that’s you.”

He paused, his grave expression softening, as his grin returned. “Think about what an adventure it would be! It’ll be great- we’ll watch movies and fall asleep on the couch, and we’ll cook pancakes together in our underwear and just, like, make love constantly. All over the world.” Y/N giggled as Tom rambled, and he could see her eyes gleaming in the dim light. “We’ll get wrinkled together and be one of those cute, wrinkly old couples. And we’ll work through anything bad that comes our way. You’re one of the toughest ladies I know, and I’m tired of running away from fights. That’s not who I wanna be. You’re the only one who calls me out on my own fake bullshit.”

“You’re pretty good at that yourself,” Y/N murmured with a guilty look, and Tom’s eyes crinkled knowingly.

“I know you’ve taken a lot of chances on me, but I haven’t let you down yet, have I?” Finally, one of her hands still in his, he got down on one knee. “So, please just take one more and, I promise, the trend will continue.”

Y/N beamed down at him, and he realized that the gleam in her eyes was from tears, a few of which had rolled down her cheeks. “Cruise, you state a compelling case.”

“Is that a yes?” he inquired, eyes widening.

“It’s a yes,” she nodded vigorously between kisses as he sprang back to his feet and pressed his lips to hers.

They threw their arms around each other and he swept her off her feet, spinning her around to the music that still played.

“And now, you know you’re stuck with me,” she chuckled, sniffing as he wiped the tears from her face.

“God, I hope so.”

[shellsinadune]

Harvey x Farmer playlist

I'm right because I said so. you may notice that a lot of these have sky themes, I love my not-pilot so much.

Things That Look Like Mistakes (Bears in Trees) - this is the song that led me to make this post. I imagine that Harvey has one of those 'always on' brains that just keep going, and the farmer can calm that down a bit. it's about not worrying for a second, despite the passage of time and getting closer to death.

Fly Me to the Moon (Frank Sinatra) - I'm so surprised people don't talk about this more. to me, this is The Harvey Song. it's jazz, it's about flying, it's a sweet love song. he likes this song, it's all but canon. there are probably more apt jazz songs for him, but I'm not that into jazz so if you have any recs...

Harvey (Pillow Queens) - I actually found this song through this post by shreddies-scribbles, and she's so correct. no explanation necessary.

Hey Lover (the Daughters of Eve) - Harvey thinks he's boring, and this song is about not caring about that. he's so sweet I'm losing my mind. 'true love and understanding for the rest of my days' is exactly what he'd give the farmer.

All You Get is Confetti (Bears in Trees) - this is actually more about the farmer, either pre-moving to the valley or early on when it's really tight financially. there's this exhaustion with life but the knowledge that they'll one day 'be everything to someone'. also 'I'm gonna die before you, it's the first race that I'll win' something something dying in the mines repeatedly.

Pierre and Natasha / the Great Comet of 1812 (Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812) - Pierre and Natasha reminds me of that Shane cutscene, and the Great Comet of 1812 is just a really beautiful image of someone looking at the sky while happy to be alive. something about the line 'I throw my fur coat on my shoulders, unable to find the sleeves' is so Harvey when it's performed live.

Honey, Honey (ABBA) - had a mental image of Harvey dancing around to ABBA. that's all.

Security (the Young Veins) - very similar to Hey Lover, with an added mention of not needing to have money. Harvey seems like someone who's always trying to prove that he deserves love, but the thing is he already does. he's stable and will love the farmer forever.

Heart of Mine (the Young Veins) - 'you should take this heart of mine, you'll always have that heart of mine'

I'm Just a Sidekick (Joey Richter / Starkid) - a song about saving someone you love's life after encountering something you wouldn't be able to fight yourself. I've already mentioned Harvey's low self esteem but this is literally so him. I mean he is strong and smart and all the things the song says he's not but I don't think he sees himself that way. 'I'm just a sidekick but I love being at your side' is such a malewife line, and we all know Harvey is the king of malewives.

Heaven Sent is a Coffee Cup (Bears in Trees) - something about the first few lines is so him. I can't fully articulate why I put this in here but I know I'm right. finding magic in the little things maybe?

Too Sweet (Hozier) - listen. I know. but I think this is another one of those songs where it's actually the farmer singing it. Harvey really is the sweetest person, and I think he does fit this song, just not in the way everyone says he does. That man is not a whiskey drinker, he's a port guy.

the Milkman of Human Kindness (Billy Bragg) - omg my favourite artist in a playlist I made. groundbreaking. but seriously Harvey just gives and gives to people, he cares so much for his community and the farmer. idk, this song just kind of has vibes of just now coming to a realisation about love.

I've Got a Crush on You (Ella Fitzgerald) - I started listening to jazz just for this playlist. the idea of choosing one specific person (who doesn't consider themself anything special) out of lots of options got to me, okay? the line 'it's not that you're attractive' made me laugh though.

[thenewausten]

Can you do more of quackity with a brazillian streamer gf but they live together?

Sure! Thanks for the request!

Quackity living with a brazilian girlfriend HC's!

You both decided to live together since you went to LA to work, renting a new and bigger apartment.

Of course you'd decorate the new apartment with a lot of brazilian and mexican stuff, so you'd put those fridge magnets you buy on the beaches of Brazil (lmao, imagine him having a fridge with a magnet that says "Lembrança de Búzios*" - Memories of Buzios - in english)

You'd make him listen to a lot of MPB* and he'd make you listen to a lot of mexican music as you both decided to take the day to clean your place.

Teaching him portuguese <3 "Amor, how can I say you're the love of my life in portuguese?" He'd randomly ask to you, sitting next to you in the sofa. "Você é o amor da minha vida.*" You'd answer. "Aw, stopp. Thank you!" He'd mock you as he laughs. "Idiota.*" You'd whisper. "Ay, não sou um idiota.*"

Of course he'd teach you spanish and you both would talk in portuguese/spanish 90% of the time.

Lots of laughs and conversations lying in the living room rug listening to Tim Maia* <3

Cooking together and dancing in the kitchen to Frank Sinatra while the meat cooks in the pan, you'd be so into the dance, almost forgetting about the meat and letting it burn a little."Shit, the meat."

I think Quackity's not a difficult person to live with so you guys didn't argue so much, but when you did, he'd be in his office for hours 'till he realises you're right. "Amor, ¿tú me perdonas*?" Alex'd ask after finally living the office and seeing you on the sofa. "Of course, baby."

Sleeping in his arms watching a movie on the living room would be common, he'd pick you up in the bride style and put you in bed. "Good night, hermosa." He'd whisper to you as he lays next to you.

Taking showers together in the morning would be also a very common thing, Alex'd look at you with his beautiful and adorable eyes and ask:"Could you wash my hair, amor, please?" And of course you'd nod even if you were already late to an appointment.

On Sundays if you both had nothing to do you'd stay in bed for another hour after waking up, cuddling, talking and making out <3

Quackity would dedicate "Garota de Ipanema*" by Tom Jobim to you, even if you weren't born in Rio*.

He'd randomly slap your ass throughout the day just because he can do it (lmao), would also hug you from behind sometimes, whispering: "Te amo, amor." And kissing your cheek after that.

I think living with Quackity'd be very cool, you'd be very happy together, your home would be full of laughter and true love <3

Summary:

Búzios is a very famous brazilian municipality.

MPB means popular brazilian music.

"Você é o amor da minha vida" means "You're the love of my life"

"Idiota" means "Idiot"

"Não sou um idiota" means "I'm not an idiot"

Tim Maia was a very popular brazilian singer in the 70's/80's and 90's, but we still listen to his songs to this day.

"Garota de Ipanema" by Tom Jobim is a very famous song in Brazil, it's very good!

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy the writing!

Requests are open!

[igaveupyesterday]

When Wilbur met Y/n

summary: can men and women really be just friends? Wilbur's and Y/n's relationship started off on the wrong foot. But when they meet, years after their first encounter a new friendship blossoms. Will their friendship last or turn into something more? (AU)

author's note: hey folk, this is completely inspired by one of the greatest romcoms "When Harry Met Sally". It's my first time writing a fanfic, but I'll try my best:) I'm writing this keeping the movie and movie characters in mind, so it's not the most accurate to real-life Wilbur.

tw: more than one part, mentions of suggestive content, swearing, Wilbur is sort of an ass and edgy lol

1619 words

1977, Chicago (the first meeting)

I had an eighteen-hour road trip to New York ahead of me, I won't be going alone since I agreed to give a ride to my friend's boyfriend, whom I don't know yet. It was a beautiful day and I was anticipating finally starting my adult life.

It seems I arrived at the worst possible time. Standing just beside my car I see my dear friend and my road trip companion locking lips like it's the end of the world. I cough to get their attention and they immediately jump off of one another, flustered.

"Oh! Hi Y/n" my friend, Amanda, says after letting out an awkward laugh. Her hair was messy and her clothes were disheveled, they had been going at it for a while judging by her appearance.

"Wilbur, this is Y/n Y/l/n" Amanda introduces me.

"It's nice to meet you, I'm William Soot, You can call me Wilbur" The man I'll be spending eighteen hours with greets me. He was tall and lanky, had a good style, and wore round glasses on his face, that were ever so slightly sliding off his nose.

"Wanna drive the first shift?" I ask while smiling.

"No, no you're there already aren't ya" He responds, walking to the trunk to put his bags in. He throws them in with ease and turns to Amanda to say his goodbyes.

"I'll call you as soon as I get to New York," Wilbur says caressing her cheek. I sensed a dramatic dialogue between two love birds incoming.

"Oh, you better!!! No, scratch that, call me on the road, I just miss you so much already sweetie!!" Amanda squeals while jumping into her boyfriend's arms. By the way, they were acting, you could assume he was off to war.

"And I miss you too!!" He says after kissing her one last time, he makes his way to the passenger seat. As soon as he sits down, I don't waste a second and start driving.

Wilbur starts looking for something in the back.

"Well, Wilbur, it's an eighteen-hour ride to New York, so I was thinking the most efficient way to get there is if we switch who's driving every three hours, that way we'll be driving 6 shifts each, but we can also switch out by mileage-"

"Want a grape?" He cuts me off, popping one in his mouth.

"No, no thank you"

Turns out the thing he was looking for in the back was a bag of bright purple grapes.

He chews on the grape as I process the fact he completely ignored what I said. There's a short silence.

"So, tell me the story of your life, we've got eighteen hours to kill before New York," He says looking over at me.

"The story of my life? Well... It wouldn't be a very long story, not much has happened to me, anything extremely remarkable at least. That's why I'm moving to New York" I state, looking over at him, he looks bored and unamused.

"So you're going to New York, so something happens to you?" He asks for clarification.

"Yes"

"Well, what's in New York for you?"

"I like to keep my dreams and aspirations private" I answered after hesitating.

"Mm, so you're one of those people" There's a noticeable groan in his voice. Wilbur turns his gaze away from me.

"Okay, well what if you go to New York, nothing happens, you live a boring and plain life, and then die having accomplished nothing," He says nonchalantly. He put his grapes down and was now checking himself out in the rear-view mirror.

I pause for a minute, processing Will's bizarre comment. I didn't expect Wilbur to be this.. unique? but I guess I did get a warning.

"Amanda did mention you had a dark side," I say after a while.

"I do. Why don't you? You know, I bet you're one of those people that draws hearts instead of a dots on the letter i" There's a tone of mocking in his voice.

"Excuse you, I have a dark side just as much as any other person" I defend myself.

"When I start reading a book, I always read the last page, so if I die I know how the book will end, that, my friend, is a dark side." He tells me, noticeably proud.

"Oh please, that doesn't make you deep" I roll my eyes. I wasn't a fan of pessimistic people or just people who thought that being edgy was cool, so this conversation wasn't amusing me.

"Do you think about death?" He asks. He clasped his hands together and was now looking at me.

"Yes, I do" I sigh.

"Yeah, sure you do, for you, it's just a fleeting thought, I think about death constantly-" He spoke faster and raised his hands, clearly irritated.

"And you think that makes you a better person? I cut him off, annoyed.

"Look, all I'm saying is, when the day comes I'm gonna be prepared and you won't" He shrugs.

"Or you just might ruin your life waiting for it" I argue.

And with that, the car fell silent.

six hours later

"So you're telling me that you'd rather marry a rich guy and be stuck in a loveless marriage rather than date a guy who you've had the best sex with," Wilbur asks pulling into a diner.

Will and I had spent at least an hour talking about a movie we've both seen, where the main character goes after a plain rich guy instead of the bad boy. I agreed with the main character's choices, but Wilbur, of course, shared the opposing opinion.

"Yes!! And any reasonable woman would say the same, we need stability not some one-time fling" I answer getting out of the car and entering the diner.

"Mm yeah, I get it," My friends' boyfriend says in a sinister way.

"What?"

"...."

"What!"

'...."

"What do you get?' I shouted. The way he suddenly "got something" after arguing for a few hours made me suspicious.

"Well you've clearly never had great sex," He says smirking.

"I have had plenty of good sex!" I deny a bit too loud, gathering the attention of people eating their dinner.

"With whom?" He asks sitting down.

"I'm not telling you that" I say firmly.

"Yeah, sure whatever"

As we sit Wilbur asks me about my previous partners and I answer some of his questions reluctantly. Soon enough the waiter came to take our orders, our food didn't take long to reach us and we had dinner.

"3.45$ is 50% of my share so together... it's 6.90$" I mumble counting how much I have to pay. I make sure to add extra to tip the waitress.

I look up and my eyes meet with Wilbur, who's staring at me.

"What?" I ask

"...." He doesn't answer, instead, his eyes move around me like he's analyzing me.

"What is it?"

"Do I have something on my face?" I ask while wiping my face with my palms.

"You're a very attractive person" He says after an unusualy long pause.

"Thank you" I answered, caught off guard.

"Amanda never mentioned how attractive you were" He leaned in. He placed his hands underneath his chin and was carefully observing me.

"Maybe she doesn't think I'm attractive" I simply shrug. I don't see why my friend would ever need to mention my attractiveness to her boyfriend.

"I don't think it's a matter of opinion, undeniably, you are attractive" His eyes were locked with mine, he hadn't looked away in what felt like forever. I started feeling uneasy about this situation, I felt something deeper than just innocent admiration in his gaze.

"Amanda is my friend," I say while getting up to leave. The thought that my friend's boyfriend might have been flirting with me made me tense. I wanted to get to our destination as soon as possible to avoid the awkwardness.

"So what?" the pitch in his voice sounded genuine.

"What do you mean so what? You're hitting on me"

"No, I wasn't" He denies. I don't know if he was trying to fool me or himself.

"You totally were!"

"Okay, let's say for the sake of the argument I was hitting on you, what do you want me to do about it? I can't just take it back"

"Just pretend it didn't happen and don't do that again" I ordered him, sitting in the driver's seat, ignoring the fact that he just affirmed my suspicion.

"Okay, Okay yeah never do it again" He repeated

There was a short silence.

"Wanna spend the night in my motel? See what I did there, I did it again-"

"William!"

"What?"

"William, We're just going to be friends okay?"

"Yeah, friends totally! that's the best" He says sarcastically, shoving a toothpick in his mouth and crossing his arms.

We both stay silent.

"You know, you and I could never be friends," He says shattering the silence. His arms were still crossed, only now, he seemed more relaxed.

"And why is that?"

"Because men and women can't be friends, feelings or sex always ruin the friendship" He states, looking over at me with his brown eyes. He was completely confident in his statement.

"That's not true, I have plenty of male friends who I am not interested in"

"Well, do you know if they're not interested in you?"

"Yes," I can't lie, I wasn't confident in my answer.

"Wrong, You never know what's going on in a guy's head, They always have ulterior motives"

"Well then, Will, I guess we won't be friends"

"I guess we won't"

"It's a shame, you were the only person I knew in New York"

end of part 1

author's note: spent a long time writing this I would appreciate any feedback on this and if anyone wants the other parts:) Please share what you think!

[darling-i-read-it]

Muffled Laughter - Laugh Part 2

Laugh Part 1 

Any!Bruce Wayne x fem!reader, Any!Joker x reader 

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: the reader is having a lot of moral dilemmas, blood/injuries/cleaning up injuries, fighting (between bruce and the reader), let me know if I missed anything! 

Author’s Note: I am keenly aware I’ve been asked to do this multiple times but I loved the first part so much that I wanted to be able to give it my full attention. I think I liked how this part turned out lots <3 Again, I personally didn’t have a batman or joker in mind! I think my joker is very comic centric and therefore vague! 

Tagging those who asked for a part two in the comments here (I hope you guys don’t mind &lt;3): @lover-of-nights, @einxoxo, @joeykissymissy, @twinkledinkle, @burningfanflowercash, @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf, @theitchbbbb, @b4b3ttee, @kitwalker02, @violetparis, @russian-soft-bitch  (holy cannoli i didn’t realize how many people wanted a part 2 lol) 

Summary: When you wake up, the Joker is gone. You’re eager to move on with your life, away from the night of neverending accidents. He however, is not. 

Song: I listened to The World We Knew by Frank Sinatra an unholy amount of times while writing this 

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

The sun seeping through the windows seemed like a traitor. Gotham never got the sun it so direly needed. Then it would illuminate the gloomy corners, the drug deals, the robberies that littered quiet edges. Your eyes opened slowly and you almost didn’t remember what had happened to you the night before. For a moment it was just you and the sun, relishing in the feeling of it on your face, trying to remember the last time you had seen it so clearly through the window. 

Then your legs started to ache again and it all came back. 

The night before was long. Your hair was still wet from the shower, damp as though it was too stressed to air out. You sat up, looking around. Your small apartment room was untouched. You threw the blankets off, the cold hitting you. Goosebumps littered your legs as you walked into the hallway, entering the living room. The clock above the kitchen counter said it was only seven am. People were going to work now on this nice Thursday morning. They were getting their coffee and trudging through the streets, passing the aftermath of the night before. They had no idea why some of the roads were closed. Most didn’t care to ask. This is Gotham. They didn’t want to know. 

The couch was empty. The blanket was folded. A note was on top of it. You rushed over to it, nimbly picking it up. You sat down, eyes scanning over it quickly. 

Thanks for the water :)

Too another night of chaos

J

The note was the only proof you had housed a criminal for the night. No one would know if you shredded it and tossed it aside. You held it in your hands, like it would run away if you let it. You weren’t sure how long you sat there, rereading the short phrases, looking at the way he signed the J. This could be police evidence. He had pointed a gun at you! 

You looked down at the blanket. He had slept here! You had let him sleep in your house!

It seemed even more ridiculous of a thought in the sunlight. 

A knock on the door startled you out of your thoughts. You could feel your own breath again. You folded the note and tossed it onto the kitchen counter. You looked through the peephole to find Bruce, standing with a worried look on his face and his hands on his pockets. You closed your eyes tightly. To your left was your broken phone, still shattered down the middle. You opened the door a crack. 

“Hey,” you murmured. You rubbed your eyes. 

“Can I come in?” he asked. You pursed your lips. He didn’t feel inviting. In fact, it felt like he wanted to argue. You were too tired to argue. 

“What happened to hello? Nice to see you? How are you?” 

Bruce wasn’t sure how to approach the events of the night before. He had scoured the streets for you, returning home and finding you gone. He interrogated Alfred more than he had intended. A desk had been broken. 

But here you were, alive, unharmed. 

“It’s nice to see you,” he said deeply. You wearily opened up the door. “What happened to you last night?” “My phone broke when I was walking home.” Would you hold the rest of it to your chest? Did Bruce even deserve to know? He had left you out there by yourself and he hadn’t even come to your house to see if you were alright? “I dropped it.” 

He wanted to push. Is that all? He scanned the room, the blanket on your couch. He needed to know what had happened. 

“Why did you leave the manor?” 

“I got tired of waiting for you.”

“You should have let Alfred call you a cab.” His voice was gentle but it made you feel like a child. 

“I can take care of myself.”

“Obviously not. You broke your phone.” I saw the Joker almost kill you. 

“I made it home didn’t I?” The Joker let me be. 

You should’ve hidden the note better. It stuck out like a sore thumb, sitting on the kitchen counter. Bruce looked around your small apartment, wondering how often he had been in here. You always met at the manor, having no need to visit your place. He sent cars to get you. He tried not to be judgemental. 

“I was worried.” You crossed your arms. 

“I’m fine Bruce.” Why weren’t you telling him what really happened? He expected you to dump it all immediately, to explain that you saw Batman, ever the menacing creature, protecting you from Gotham’s worst. Why didn’t you trust him with that information? 

How did you get home? You had been lost. 

What happened from the time he called you and the time you went to bed? 

“You said you were lost. How did you get home?” 

“I found the street signs. I was just turned around.”

“Why are you lying to me?” 

You bit your tongue. This was a confrontation you didn’t want to have. You shook your head. 

“Leave me be Bruce. Clearly you don’t care to be home when I’m there. We’ve known it needed to come to this.” 

“Come to what?” His eyes went wide. “Are you breaking up with me?” 

You hadn’t wanted to. In fact, you didn’t even mean that when you spoke. You just wanted him gone and this was the quickest way to get him to do it. 

“I’m fed up waiting around for you to decide I’m important to you,” you admitted. “I can’t do that anymore. I can’t see Alfred more than I see you.” 

“I have responsibilities-”

“Everyone has responsibilities Bruce. You’re avoiding me.” 

“Why are you lying?” he begged. You shook your head, backing away. 

“Rich, coming from you. What girl has your attention on the late nights in the office Bruce? You expect me to believe that you’re always home so late because of paperwork?” It was a low blow and you knew it. You had no proof he was cheating. 

You wanted him to leave but you were telling him everything else except to get out. 

There was a genuine hurt over his face. He quickly washed it away. 

“What happened last night?” His voice was more demanding than questioning. He needed to know how you got home. He had to know why you weren’t telling him the truth. He had never felt more like Batman with you than he did now. 

“Nothing,” you said. 

There was a long silence. 

He backed away and out the door. He shut it quietly behind him. 

You were left alone in the apartment once again, feeling like you had hidden a massive part of your life and not a ten hour period. 

-

It was surprisingly easy not to go to the Wayne Manor that night. It felt wrong to back out of the routine but once you had, it was simple. You remained on your own couch, the TV on, the sun down once again. 

You had gone out to get a new phone but called out of work. 

You kept the same number, in case Bruce called. You weren’t sure what you wanted him to say. You had been rude and secretive to him and you didn’t even know if he deserved it. Your morals had been all out of whack lately and you weren’t ready to let him know that. He would scrutinize you like a psychiatrist. He would forget his own issues and pretend you were far worse, like he needed to understand the workings of your brain. 

If you told Bruce Wayne you had housed a fugitive then he would turn you in. At the least, he would break up with you for good. You couldn’t blame him for it. But you weren’t sure if you were ready for that. 

You pictured him staring at his phone, unsure why you were lying, wondering if you were deflecting the cheating allegations onto him because something happened. You focused on the television as your eyes drooped with exhaustion. You hadn't even cheated. Why did it feel like you had?

You were starting to drift into a light sleep when there was a violent knock on the door. 

You sat up and stared at the door, willing another knock. When you were in between sleep and awake, even the most aggressive noise could seem fake. Just as it had the first time though, the knock came, longer now. 

You kicked the blanket off you and dragged yourself over. Through the peephole you expected Bruce, coming to make amends.

The peephole made the Joker look distorted, more so than usual. He had his face down so you couldn’t see him but you recognized the shaky demeanor. You unlocked the door and opened it fully. 

“What are you doing here?” you asked. He pushed past you into the kitchen. You shut the door slowly as he rummaged in your cabinets and pulled out a glass. He put it under the tap, filling it up with water. 

His hand gripped the counter, knuckles turning whiter than usual. There was a tenseness in his back that hadn’t been there the night before. His hair was damp or greasy, hanging over his shoulders. 

“Jay?” 

He craned his neck to the side. You saw the side of his face. The makeup was smeared, a dark look over his features. You weren’t sure where the red paint started and the blood began. He drank the water quickly, Adam's apple bobbing. 

He slammed it down onto the counter. You narrowed your eyes, still deeply unsure why he had come back here. You figured he would either want to have you killed or never see you again. A chill went down your back, wondering if he was here to kill you. That look in his eyes was not comforting. 

“Needed some water,” he said darkly. You furrowed your brows. 

He turned to face you completely. 

You tried to suppress your gasp.

He had a large gash over the left side of his face. His shirt was torn, shreds down the front. There was blood all over him. You weren’t sure how much of it was his. He didn’t look like he was in pain but his right eye was swollen shut. He smiled, toothily, dirtily. 

“I was parched.” 

You were still taking it all in. You had seen some bruises and a cut once or twice but this was a whole different ball game. You approached him slowly, eyeing what seemed to be an endless amount of dark red. 

“What happened?”

“Don’t stay dehydrated for too long! I’m the new poster child.” He put his hands on his hips, doing a superhero stance. He relaxed quickly, not able to keep up his ridiculous grin. You met his gaze. It softened a bit. Whatever was running the crazy wheels back there slowed. 

“Can I help?”

“Well don’t just stand there.” You walked away to find a first aid kit. You felt his eyes on you as you walked, searching the cabinets. The last time you had needed it was when you had a cooking mishap. You had no idea how to fix him how he was now. “Bad guys got handsy with blowtorches today,” he explained whimsically. “You should see the other guy.” 

“I’m shaking in my boots.” 

“You’re not wearing shoes.” You laughed gently, shakily.

“It’s an expression.” You grabbed the box, turning back to him. He sat on the table.

“Your laugh is truly unparalleled.” You flushed and looked away. 

 You walked up to him and placed the first aid down, opening it up. “I don’t even know where to start.” 

“People tend to start with the lips and then work their way lower darling.” You shook your head. You rummaged around as he watched you. His gaze felt intense and unwavering. You turned the tap on warm. You ran a cloth underneath it. 

Finally you raised it up to his face. 

“Want me to take off my shirt sweets?” He was wearing a suit, though it was hardly distinguishable anymore. He had lost the coat, all that was remaining was the button up and suspenders. Even those were hard to read with how torn up they were. 

“You might have to. You hurt there?”

“You trust me to tell you? Well then I’m hurt everywhere.” You gave him a look. He smiled, that familiar exaggerated smile. To your silence he rolled his eyes. “You’re no fun.” He slid off the suspenders and warily removed his shirt. He had cuts down his chest but nothing nearly as bad as his face. 

“Did the Bat do this to you?” You tried to keep your gaze on the task at hand. No need to admire him. “Some of it. He never gets as close as he’d like.” He shrugged. “His whole ‘no kill’ motto allows for plenty of play time.” 

“This might hurt.”

“I can’t feel a thing.” 

You started to gently dab at the cuts on his chest. He didn’t react in the slightest, allowing you to get rid of the blood.

“Why did you come back?” 

You finally asked the question that had been nagging at you since you saw him through the peephole. You caught his eye only once but refused to make eye contact otherwise. He stared at you shamelessly, admiration or lust in his eyes. 

“I was thirsty.” You opened your mouth to speak again. 

Your phone rang. 

You both looked towards the living room where it was laying on the couch beside your blanket. The TV was on a low hum. You had forgotten to turn it off. You put down the rag and walked over to it. 

“That’s an annoying ringtone.” 

Bruce’s face covered your screen.

“Who is it?” You hit decline and tossed it back onto the couch. 

“No one.” You turned back around to the Joker and instead of facing your moral dilemmas, you picked the rag back up to clean his face. “I think I can clean this with alcohol.” 

“You got any gin? Or grape juice?” 

“You drink those together?” 

“I’m a character.” 

“You can say that again. Also, I meant rubbing alcohol.” 

“I know.” 

You grabbed his chin. He smiled through his pinched cheeks. 

“Don’t move.” 

His eyes remained on you as you started to gently rub his chin. You winced for him because he apparently had superhuman pain tolerance. The gash didn’t look as bad when you got down to it. You starred with a focused gaze, careful over his eye. His makeup smeared. 

You moved back a bit to see how it looked. 

You finally met his gaze. 

“I intend to stay the night,” he explained. “You have a lovely home here Y/N.” You narrowed your eyes at him, unsure what he was getting at. “If only you had a more comfortable place to sleep than the couch,” he teased. “Got any ideas for me?” 

You examined his face, the sly smile on his lips. You bit the inside of your cheek and looked away, breathing gently out of your nose. 

“I don’t let just anybody sleep in my bed.” 

“Selective. I like that in a woman.” You put some rubbing alcohol on a fresh rag. 

“That phone call was from my boyfriend Bruce.” 

“I don’t think cheating is beneath you,” he observed. “You’re going to house a fugitive either way sweets.” You wanted to argue but knew he was right. There was no use in arguing with someone who would win. 

Bruce could come back tonight, you thought. You dismissed it. Why would he? He had never cared before. 

You raised your new rag to the Jokers face. Before you could make contact he swooped in, lips crashing into yours. Your fingers extended out of surprise, dropping the rag onto the counter. He hummed against your lips. 

It was almost like he was laughing. 

Your phone rang again on the couch. You ignored it this time. 

Final Part