#making music is such a cool and interesting way to express yourself and i love when i find a song that i really connect with

[toxicslimemutant]

Ya know, if I had any musical talent or any musical knowledge or singing skills or all the means necessary to make music, I bet I'd be a kick-ass musical artist

[yuqiyu]

Guitar Lessons (Eddie Munson x F!Reader)

♡ part 2

Summary: During one of your hangouts at Eddie's trailer, he offers to give you some guitar lessons.

Word Count: 6.6k

Tags: NSFW, sexual content, cunnilingus, face riding, making out, eating out, fluff, friends to lovers (kinda), slight angst, dramatic reader, no use of y/n

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“How long have you played?” you ask as you graze your fingers over the body of the guitar. It’s smooth and cold, the design fitting right in with Eddie’s aesthetic.

He’s looking at you cutely, leaning back on his forearms against the bed. There’s a sparkle in his doe eyes as he shifts a bit.

“So I see you’ve met the lady of the house,” he says, a slight lilt to his voice. “Go on, take her down.” 

As you carefully step over a messy pile of cassette tapes beside another pile of clothes, Eddie makes a grabbing motion and mumbles a That’s right, come to papa. You stifle a laugh, releasing a snort in the process. He shoots a look at you, fully defensive. 

Once the guitar (or the love of his life, as he’d say) is in his hands, it fits perfectly like a puzzle piece on his body. His neck is slightly craned over it. You think he’s looking at the strings, but as you move closer, his eyes are closed.

He starts plucking out a couple chords, a sweet melody completely contradicting the visuals you are being fed. You begin to close your eyes as well, allowing the music to flow through the both of you. It sounds beautiful despite not being hooked up to an amp.

It has been only a couple of months since you first met Eddie in the hallway between classes. You recall a head full of messy curls hanging over what you thought were interesting choices in an outfit. Girls were avoiding him left and right as he picked up the remnants of his stuff off the ground after a couple jocks had so kindly knocked them out of his hands. 

When you had picked up a notebook that had fallen behind him, a few loose papers with unfamiliar charts and symbols fell out. You plucked them up for a closer study.

“Just getting ready for the Satanic rituals this Thursday,” he mused. You looked up in surprise. 

He was a very pretty man, his hair framing his slim face surprisingly well. His large eyes bore into you, and you swore you could get lost in the dark abyss behind them.

“What?” 

“Sorry, bad joke.” He looked at you sheepishly, then to the notebook in your hands.

“Right, sorry.” Even after you quickly handed it back to him, he continued staring at you, amused. 

“Are you new?” 

You shuffled your feet, feeling even more awkward than you already were. 

“Yeah.” And the rest was history.

You open your eyes when the music stops. Eddie is staring at you with a crooked grin, inches away from your face.

“Jeez, you’re so creepy,” you laugh as you push him off. Ever the drama queen he is, he falls backward onto the bed limply, the guitar following suit. His hands are clutched over his heart as his face fakes a wounded expression. 

“I just gave you the best serenade you will ever hear in your life, and this is how you repay me?” He all but shrieks at you as you continue slapping at his arm.

“ Ever? That’s such a loaded statement, Eddie. You haven’t even answered my question.”

He jumps back up, then pauses for a beat. “I don’t know, my whole life I guess,” he shrugs. 

You stare back at the guitar, still being held snugly in his arms. There was no way to stop the idea of you being there instead, but you shake yourself out of it.

“That’s pretty cool, though. I don’t know how to play any instruments.” You copy his pose from earlier, supporting yourself up by your forearms. He twists his neck towards you, that beautiful damn smile beaming a hundred miles per hour your way. 

“Really,” he questions, dragging out the word playfully. “How about I, the greatest guitarist ever, teach you some new things.” 

“Again, such a loaded statement, but okay. Hit me.” 

The next hour or so is not exactly what you were expecting. He has an old acoustic guitar hiding somewhere in his closet (which he searches for with difficulty, under more piles of items) and has you test the waters on it. With the pleasant surprise of Eddie literally wrapping your back with his arms, moving your fingers to the right formations, you are basically floating on cloud nine. 

He is a demonstrations type of guy, not an I-will-show-you-first-then-you-play kind of way, but in an I-will-wrap-my-gorgeous-hands-around-yours kind of way. This shouldn’t have shocked you, ever since he cupped his hands over yours just to help you roll some dice when you hesitated during a campaign, at least. You often took sneaky glances at his fingers after that day, how could you help it? The day he finds out about your secret hand fetish will be the day you change your identity, because not only would it feed his already inflated ego, he would never let you live it down. He already has so much ammo against you, and you dread that only one more will put you six feet under. 

Eddie was exceedingly patient with you in teaching the strings and the chords, even though you had trouble memorizing where to place your fingers. You wish you could say the same about previous teachers, who were truly wicked demons compared to him. 

You let yourself falter and lean backwards, just enough for Eddie to notice. He suddenly peels your fingers off the instrument and gives little kisses to them. 

You yank your hand back in surprise and squeak out, “Eddie!”

His stupid antics always make it hard for you not to fall for him. It sometimes feels like he does it on purpose, like he means to fuel your feelings even more. 

“Just thought they needed some healing kissies ,” he replies, his pitch increasing at the end to mock you. 

“Kissies are only for couples,” you snapped, unable to process anything but the imprint of his soft lips on your hands. You hope you don’t look as dazed as you feel right now. 

He simply ignores you and strokes the neck of the guitar, still wrapped comfortably around you. “You’re a natural at this, y’know? Maybe you should get some real lessons.” 

“Yeah, right. It sure doesn’t feel like it.” You give your hands a good shake, loosening all the muscles as you sighed in relief. Dark, red lines were etched deep into your fingertips. Looking at them only made the pain feel even more real. 

He grabs them again, gripping them tightly. “Hey—hey, careful! These hands have unknown potential! You could be a god with these.”

“‘Thought you said you were the best out there,” you smile, nudging him in the ribs. He feigns offense.

“I am, but if there’s gonna be someone better out there, I’d rather it be you!” 

You can only roll your eyes at him as he drops his chin on your shoulder. He must be bored out of his mind right now, so you push for a new topic.

“Why are you being so touchy today,” you tease, turning to look at his face. It is much easier now to admire his features now that he is sitting so close to you. His eyes are glazed over.  “Wait a minute—were you high this whole time?” 

He gives you a guilty look.

You aren’t sure if you should be impressed that he was able to teach you so well under the influence, or if you should be disappointed. His affections to you often occurred under one and only one circumstance, and that was when he was ridiculously high. He must’ve smoked more than usual. The thought hits you like a crushing weight, smashing through your heart and sinking down to your stomach in just under five seconds. You want to throw your head into your palms and cringe at how hopeful you were, even though you’re already used to the reality of this godforsaken friendship. But then the sinking feeling falls even deeper into your pit when you realized something might’ve happened to make him reach for his stash like this. 

“Did something happen today?” You don’t mean to probe, but even stoner Eddie has his limits for most of the time. Sometimes the overcompensation is a little too obvious, even for your obliviousness. 

His head is still lolling on your shoulder, though this time there’s a faraway look in his eyes. There’s a silence that hangs thick for what felt like forever, until you feel his chin shift, trying to find a more comfortable spot to sulk in.

“Don’t tell me it’s girl troubles,” you huff out. The thought of it already has the heat rising to your cheeks. It’s one thing to have an unrequited crush, but to see said crush pining for another person was simply soul-crushing. 

He must notice your expression, because he looks at you amusingly. “Why? Would you be jealous?” 

When you shoot him a deadly look, he only giggles and reassures you. You’ve heard this speech about a million times already: you’re his best girl-friend and no one can ever beat you. To be honest, it’s hard to be beat when you’re his only girl-friend, but hey, it’s still a win. If he has to constantly remind you, though, maybe you’re being too obvious. You remind yourself to tone it down around him.

Eddie suddenly jumps off the bed with renewed vigor and swipes the guitar from your arms before laying it carefully somewhere in the closet, then plops back down beside you. His face is serious, the playful energy lasting only for a few seconds.

You ease yourself down slowly, lying on your side as you soak in the sight before you. His arms are tucked under his head, ankles crossed at the edge of the bed. 

“I only ask because I—”

“ Because you care. I know.” 

You give him a minute. There are only the sounds of your breaths mingling with each other, and if you relaxed enough, you swear you’d be able to hear his heartbeat. You’d usually miss the peace you had prior to meeting Eddie, but now, when there is no sound of his annoying voice or music or anything , it makes you nervous. Because a vulnerable Eddie is a sad Eddie. There was no easy way to learn this. 

“I heard you went on a date with Harrington,” he starts. His hands fly in the air as he continues. You can’t help but stare at the glint his rings give off in the different angles. “Went to the mall and everything.”

It’s your turn to look amused. When he catches it, he presses a finger to your lips, which only causes you to snicker. “How could you ignore me for some jock. Is that why you didn’t pick up my calls that day?” He has such an intense expression, backed up by the furrowing of his brows now hiding under his bangs. He seems so distressed, although you can’t help but smile at him in silence. 

“Is that all you have to say to me?” He’s practically begging for response at this point. 

“First of all, Munson,” you emphasize as he winces at the demotion of his name. It was easy to tell when you don’t feel like humoring him. Ever since the beginning, it had always been Eddie . When you had tried calling him anything else, it just didn’t feel right in those moments. And it still doesn’t. “It wasn’t a date. It was a double date!” 

His jaw drops as he rubs a hand over his face, having expected you to at least try to comfort him, like you usually would. It was shameful, honestly, the way you would scramble to mend his sorrow every single time. You pause for a second, letting the moment really sink in before continuing again. This is payback , you thought. “It was Nancy, Steve, Robin, and me. It wasn’t really a date, Eddie. I don’t know why you’d even care.” 

There’s a slight quiver in your voice when you articulate the last line, but you hope he doesn’t notice. However, it seems like that’s the only thing he noticed.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking, missy, but I care a whole lot when my only friend in the whole wide world goes missing when I need her most.” The glazed look in his eyes hasn’t faded, but the seriousness is still there. You almost wish you aren’t still having this conversation because it only breaks your heart further the more he opens his goddamn mouth about friendship this, friendship that. But your love and concern for him overshadows it all, and you want to smack yourself over the head for that. 

You take a deep breath, inhaling all the different scents of Eddie (if that was even humanly possible) and ponder your thoughts. You like to do it because It keeps him on his toes, you remember, as if he’s always hanging onto your every word, inching closer and closer to the edge of the cliff. 

You allow your eyes to wander across his walls, taking in the various band posters, and then back onto the guitar. It’s so easy to get sidetracked in the confines of anything related to him, but the more you learn about him, the more you realize he’s just a huge dork who plays fantasy games and the guitar in his free time. He does a great job at keeping the air of mystery around him, though, and you wonder if people actually realized who he truly was, maybe they’d bully him a tiny bit less. That is, if they weren’t so scared of being sacrificed by him. He shakes you out of your conscious slumber with a couple snaps of his fingers in front of your face.

“Hey—are you even listening to me?” 

His hand continues waving in your face for a few more seconds before you swat it away. You’re looking at him with as much sincerity as you could possibly muster. He’s doing the same, though you notice the way the corners of his mouth tug down, like how they usually do whenever you reject one of his hugs.

“Can I level with you?” you ask.

He looks at you strangely, eyebrows raise in question. There’s some clarity to his eyes now, and you feel yourself getting sucked in temporarily. His Adam’s apple bobs as he gulps thickly. He nods.

“I couldn’t give less of a shit about your love life and who you choose to date, so why should you? ” The words come out with more venom than you mean to, but you couldn’t—no, wouldn’t , take back what you said. Even though you’re lying, it feels good knowing that he at least doesn’t know you have a massive one-sided crush on him. It gives the illusion that you’re in control, and you’d like to keep it that way.

Eddie’s features soften. He looks so hurt, and you can’t bear to look at him for more than two seconds. The room is silent again, though it’s lacking the comfort that usually comes with it. You slowly sit up, and start grabbing your things. Before you leave, he pulls your wrist back. His eyes are pleading.

“It’s still early,” he begins. “If you want to stay longer.” You look sparingly at his face, mostly darting to his bedsheets or the walls. His grip tightens. 

“I—um, I’ve got some overdue homework I need to work on.” 

He knows you well enough to know that if there was one person he knew that always had their shit together and done on time, it was you. But he lets go, and your heart stumbles because if he had asked you one more time, you would’ve stayed. You guess some things are just not written in the stars, and tonight was one of those things.

He only purses his lips and exhales, “Alright.”

He doesn’t walk you out the door today.

The next time you see him ends up being the following night. He had called the morning of, asking if you wanted to come over for more “guitar lessons.” When you didn’t reply quickly enough for his liking, he simply said, “See you at eight. Sharp, okay, sweetheart?”

Your heart twinges, so you agree. 

Eight sneaks up on you before you know it. The night air engulfs you as you rap your knuckles against the Munsons’ trailer door. It rattles violently, so you stop, fearing that one more would completely knock it off the hinges. You hear a familiar voice ring out, welcoming you in.

When you’re inside, you spot Eddie running around chaotically in the small kitchen. Various snacks are being crushed by his arms clutching them close to his chest, and he nearly slams into a table (not without cursing) while tossing them over onto the couch. 

He finally sits down among the mess, accidentally on a bag of chips, and it crunches. He makes a butt-shaped hole with the snacks next to himself, then affectionately pats the area and looks at you. 

You scooch around and pop open a bag of gummy bears. “We’re starting the movie early today, huh?” 

“You gotta return it tomorrow. We can’t have any more distractions now, can we?” He fiddles with the remote, pressing buttons here and there. There’s only static on the TV. He groans and gives it a good few smacks. 

“Wow,” you drawl. “Eddie Munson himself, actually remembering due dates, and not even his responsibility? That’s new.” He turns around to retaliate, but is hit by a gummy bear straight to the face. “Bullseye,” you laugh.

He only sighs and walks towards the kitchen. His hand squeezes your thigh on the way and, with an exasperated voice, says, “Be good ‘til I get back.” 

The movie ends without another hitch, and it’s not long after that both of you are back in his bedroom.

“So,” he says as he claps his hands together dramatically. “It’s time for lessons by Mr. Munson himself.” He picks up the acoustic guitar and seats himself down next to you on the bed. “Wanna show me what you’ve learned so far?”

“To be honest, not much. Sorry to disappoint, Mr. Munson,” you shrug, taking over and strumming out a few test chords. He wets his lips absentmindedly.

“Well, you seem to remember the C chord, at least,” he nods. “But—” He cups your fingers and shifts them downward. “You’re a bit too high there, sweetheart.”

The touch burns through your skin and sets your mind, body, and heart aflame. It takes you a second to answer. A second too long, is what Eddie thinks. 

“Okay…what about my G?” you ask quietly, not trusting yourself to breathe.

“Your G what? G-string or G chord?” 

You blink.

He winks.

And your body is at war. The rope inside you tugs between choosing violence or letting yourself melt in his arms. It’s close to betraying you, until you choose fight-or-flight’s third sibling: freeze. 

Eddie cackles as he shakes you awake. You feel your consciousness slam back into your body with full force. Your mind is going insane. What did he mean? Does he want to do something? Does he want me ? You’re about to open your mouth, to say Yes! Yes, Eddie, I want you!

“Bad joke. Sorry.”

You wish the moon would become unlatched from whatever science-y, physics-y thing that’s keeping it in orbit and hurl towards Earth and just crush you to death right then and there. How does one recover from this?

Except you do. He spends the next thirty minutes teaching you an easy song that includes the whopping four chords you’ve learned. It goes as smoothly as you hope, until the heat radiating off of Eddie and wafting onto your back is making you uncomfortably sticky. 

When you had left the house earlier, you wore tank top with a denim jacket to cover your arms. It wasn’t your best look, but you weren’t trying to impress anyone (more of a self-persuasion, but who’s really checking?). The decision feels like a huge mistake now, because you are definitely not comfortable enough at the moment to let him see your skin like that.

Each touch, each movement, and each breath of Eddie’s fanning over your neck so deliciously gives you more and more confidence as the night moves on. He’s pressing all the right buttons, as if knowingly, and your barrier begins to crack. 

You carry on with full composure, as you always have . He gives you a simple task: play at least halfway into the song perfectly. When you do, he leans in, lips slightly brushing your earlobe, and whispers, “Good girl.”

Your face begins to heat up at a rapid rate. Your body, on the other hand, isn’t sure whether it should tense up or relax. Eddie notices and places his hands on your shoulders, giving you quick squeezes sympathetically. It only makes it worse.

Not sure how you did it, but you were able to get the guitar safely on the bed before jumping off of it entirely. 

“Wow,” he exhales and simpers. “I just wanted to see if you had a praise kink or so—”

He’s cut short by your glossy eyes and trembling lips. His mouth opens, but nothing comes out, so he waves his hands uselessly. 

“What, so I’m just a joke to you?” Your voice betrays you, as much as you attempt to conceal your vulnerability. It sports a matching look on your face. This is it , you think. You lasted only a couple of months after making your first friend at this stupid school, and thinking about it makes you feel ashamed. Somehow, this feels worse than a real break-up. 

“I’m—Hey, look at me, please. I’m so sorry.” He’s scrambling to fix his mistake, hands all over you, and eyes frantically searching you for a hint of forgiveness, even if he knows it’s futile. 

“Eddie, I need to go. It’s fi—”

“No!” he cries, causing you to flinch. His grip softens on your shoulders, but is still unwaveringly attached. “It’s not fine.”

Even through the thick material of your jacket, the knowledge that he’s still touching you has you squirming painfully. “God, please , stop touching me.” 

Now, Eddie’s heart is breaking into a million pieces, and you know it well. Since the first day you met him, you could tell what his love language was. From the way he’d ruffle your hair affectionately after a campaign win, or how he’d pull you into a bone-smashing hug whenever you brought his favorite snack to school, to simply the way his eyes would twinkle right before giving you a first bump every time you parted ways. In a sense, this was a real break-up to him. 

His arm slowly slides off of you, with a pained look on his face. He then stares at you expectantly. When you make a move to the side, he reaches out towards you, though not close enough to touch.

“Please don’t go yet. Just—” He closes his eyes and groans against his palms, and you’re sober enough to know it’s not directed at you. If you hadn't felt so terrible, you’d laugh at the way he was repenting. You stare slack-faced at him, and while it’s not the reaction he was hoping for, he takes it as a second chance. “I don’t know why I said that.” 

“Like how you don’t know why you said, ‘g-string’ or why you just messed with me all night?” you nearly shouted. It takes a lot of energy to force the sass through your pain, but it shows enough to cause Eddie to shrink within himself. You can’t even feel bad anymore. Maybe this was an overreaction on your part. He’s always been like this, so what is different now? In a way, there is still a part of you that actually does feel bad, but only because you let yourself waste away in your feelings without ever bringing it up to him. There is no way for him to really know how you feel about him without communicating it. Even then, normal friendships aren’t like this. Friends don’t whisper dirty things into each other’s ears. Friends don’t playfully flirt with real sexual tension. So it’s not fair that you have to endure this while he’s the only one having fun. 

Eddie, on the other hand, wants to stuff his mouth with his fist. He wants to pull his hair out, he wants to scream into his pillow, but most of all, he wants to hold you and apologize over and over until he’s completely lost his voice. For you, he would grovel as much as you want him to, and to him, that would be nothing if it meant you’d take him back.

His voice cracks when he manages to find the courage to speak again. “I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable with my behavior.” He looks at you intently, eyes roaming your face, searching— begging . 

You look away, and it scares him. He’s never seen you cry like this, and it’s even worse since he’s the reason why. His arms twitch, and he realizes that that was the last time he’ll ever be that close to you again. 

After a million years (according to Eddie), you sigh, “That’s not the issue.” There’s a fierceness to you now, surprising the both of you. You jab a finger at his chest viciously. “My issue with you is that you keep taking my feelings lightly.” His brows furrow, and it only pisses you off even more. 

“I like you, you asshole!” There was no point of return. All of that was out the window the moment he crossed a line. Instead of feeling scared or sad, like you thought you would, you were instead enraged with an addicting fury. “And you .” You make a point to jab him especially hard for emphasis. “You have the nerve to mess with me all night long—not to mention even whining about how I should spend every waking moment with you when I already do…and you know what the kicker in all of this was? I did wish I was at the mall with you! I did wish I was on a date with you!”

His forehead is creasing, eyes wide, and mouth pursing. When it finally opens, he breathes out an Oh. And he suddenly he knows how to make things right.

In your complete, utter mess of a breakdown, you don’t realize that you had balled your hands tightly into a fist until you let go, and the searing pain from your nails digging into your palms lets up. 

Maybe you were okay with destroying this friendship before, you try to convince yourself, but the regret starts pooling into your belly along with nausea. You’re too ashamed to look at him, yet you also don’t have the courage to move from your spot. So once again, the room is just filled with the sounds of labored breathing and bated breath, both standing in a face-off.

And then you will your legs to move, to run far, far away. But Eddie catches you first, and his face is sloppily smashed against yours as he pulls your lips into his own. Certainly, this is bold, the boldest thing he’s ever done, he’d argue. Still, he’s unable to withdraw because once he has you—your scent, your soft skin, and your gasps keeps him wanting more and more. 

It only ends when both of you come up for air, foreheads still glued together as you laugh mirthlessly. “This whole time?” you murmured. 

You can feel the smug grin on his lips as he attacks the junction of your neck. You melt against him. “Yeah.” He continues down to your shoulder after pulling your jacket off, his mouth never leaving you. “So, was I right?”

“Hmm?” You couldn’t trust yourself to speak anymore. Somehow, Eddie has gotten you back to his bed, and you feel his necklace glide across your chest coldly, sending little shivers along your spine. 

“‘Bout you having a praise kink,” he mumbles. He’s taking his time on a particular spot near your collarbone, making sure to really mark you well. 

You’re too embarrassed to reply, so you hope he moves on from it. He doesn’t—worse, he stops. He’s holding himself up with his arms, caging you in, and looks at you mischievously. “Sweetheart, I asked you a question. Don’t go shy on me now. ” 

You reach up to press a kiss against him, but he easily flicks you back down like a fly. His brow arches, though he’s still grinning arrogantly. 

“Fine, yes, yes, yes, I do.” 

“That’s my girl.” 

You moan into him when he’s back on your mouth, tongues slow dancing. You still feel hot, but it’s different this time around. It’s more freeing—like you’ve let something go, and now you’re finally able to enjoy it. 

Eddie is a much better kisser than you imagined. You’ve thought about how he’d taste and how it’d go, oh absolutely, but this is real . You memorize the way his tongue darts around as if mapping out every part of you, mixed in with the faint smell of cigarettes and pure testosterone. 

He’s gripping your chest as he makes his way down and massages it to Hell and back. You can’t help but love how primal you’ve got him, which only turns you on even more.

“I’ve wanted to do many…many… many, ” he accents each word with a wet kiss down your arms. “...unholy things to you since I laid my eyes on you.” 

You strip off your top and bra, tossing them to the side with urgency. He only chuckles at your brazenness before giving both of your breasts a firm squeeze. You push him onto the bed and straddle him. “C’mon, Eddie, your turn.” He looks at you incredulously, then his stare turns dark after a blink of an eye. His hands run up and down the sides of your waist, leaving little goosebumps in their wake. 

“My, my, who knew you were so forward? All of that innocence…just an act.” He reaches out and captures your chin, firmly holding on as he angles your face around. The cold air drifts against your chest, causing your nipples to perk up. You release a shaky breath and close your eyes, suddenly feeling timid. “No, no, open them for me, sweetheart.” 

When you do, you feel him twitch under you, provoking you to ground back down on him. Your eyes are half-lidded, hips rolling. A guttural groan expels from his throat, and he grips you to a standstill. 

“Get—ugh, take it off already!” you whine, clawing at his t-shirt. 

He’s looking at you with so much lust, yet it’s filled with tenderness; his hands rubbing circles into your own only reaffirming that. After a moment of silence (in which Eddie is aggressively admiring your beauty), he licks his lips and speaks.

“I want you to know that if we continue, this won’t be the last time. There will never— ever be ‘going back to being friends’ or ‘acting normal.’ Because to be frank with you, princess, I can’t do that.” His eyes take in your silhouette, wandering slowly and deeply, because he’s so afraid. So afraid that this will be the last time you let him see you again. He wants to memorize as much of you as possible in case it gets taken away. He takes a deep breath. “So, if we do this. I want more of you—not just the sex, but I want to take you out. And… I won’t do this if you don’t want that. I don’t want this to be a one-and-done deal. Got it?”

You’re unsure whether it’s the adrenaline running through your veins or the sexual tension you feel for him snapping, but you run your hands under his shirt and over his bare chest. For whatever reason, his thoughtfulness turns you on even more than you thought you could be. You ache for his touch, and the desire builds into a searing pain. He wants to stop you, but he can’t; you’re too mesmerizing. 

“Eddie,” you moan out. He whimpers under your touch, and he bucks up into you. The muscles in his hand flex against your hip, fighting against his vices. Who knew having a pretty girl on top of him would have him become such a mess?

“Sweetheart,” he breathes out. “You’re not helping me here. I need you to tell me you—” He flips you under him, knee wedged conveniently between your legs, pushing barely enough against your core. He’s frustrated in more ways than one. His eyes implore of you, with the addition of his voice being much deeper. He lets you rub against his thigh for a moment before pulling back. He pins your hands above your head and hovers closely over you just enough for you to hear his harsh whisper. “Now, now, you’re not being very good, are you? Tell me you understand.”

“I understand,” you beg.

“Understand what?”

“Fuck, Eddie, I want you to be mine. My boyfriend, my heart, my soul, and—” You slide your fingers down his body. “Your cock .”

“Shit,” he grins cheekily. “Why didn’t you say so earlier?” He moves to unbutton your jeans as his tongue sticks out in concentration. You don’t understand how he could still be so cute during an activity as sinful as this. Once the garment is off your legs, you return the favor, nearly ripping his shirt off his back. 

He quickly pulls you back onto his lap. You continue running your hands down his chest as one of his fingers hook into the hem of your underwear, rubbing the skin of your hips with the pads of his fingers. His other hand swipes teasingly down your cunt through the fabric, causing the thick wet line to fully soak your panties immediately upon contact. You rut against him, despising the barrier that is his jeans. You need to feel him now . 

“Patience, sweetheart,” he says hoarsely, right before pulling your underwear off completely. “There’s something I wanna try first.” He pulls your hips up to his face roughly, and your hands land on the wall above him for support. You giggle.

“Sounds like you’re the one who needs to put on the reigns.” Your heat is right above his mouth; you can feel his hot breath fluttering across, making you drip even more. His soft lips target your core, making sure to run his tongue over your clit from time to time. In the meantime, his hands continue roaming your body, starting from the bend in your knees to your quite indulgent thighs, all the way up to your chest. As you’re stuck in his maze of pleasure, he catches you off guard and pulls on your nipple. You yelp in surprise and arousal, the electricity of it aiding you in the roll of your hips against his face. He smiles against you, easily lapping up any juices that come out. 

It causes you to release your most lewd sound of the night so far, and this man is soaking it all up. He loves that he’s the one to make you feel this way and no one else.

“Bet Harrington couldn’t make you moan like that for him.” 

You roll your eyes. “Shut up, I wouldn’t have even let him.”

“Careful with those eyes, I don’t want them rolling to the back of your head unless you’re bouncing on my cock.” He continues suckling at your clit and your eyes squeeze shut, enjoying the sensation. You’ve played with yourself before, but it was never like this. You could only get so far with just your fingers rubbing idly as your mind sneaks off somewhere else. Just the way his tongue moves around you so languidly has you close to your climax already. 

He abruptly palms both your ass cheeks and pushes you deeper down into his face, to the point where you’re terrified you’re going to smother him—but he keeps it there, firm and steady, and darts his tongue in deep .

Now, you’ve seen this man’s tongue countless times before. Whenever pure concentration is necessary, that one time he provoked Jason Carver in the cafeteria, and the many periods of time when he merely wanted to make funny faces at you to cheer you up, like a child. Have you thought about what they’d feel in your mouth and inside of you? Naturally. But what you failed to understand was the sheer strength and length of each thrust. When you look down at him, you expect to see multiple appendages because there is no way he could work on so much of you all at once. Oh, it is so much better than you thought.

The thin sheen of sweat on his skin has his bangs sticking to his forehead. The rest of his hair falls nicely around him, like a halo under your thighs. The tip of his nose is bumping wonderfully against your button, bringing you closer and closer to your release. He’s looking straight at you, cheeks slightly hollowed out from the sucking motion. He squeezes your ass and gives a single slap. Your arms fall from the wall and land on the sheets next to him. Unable to hold back any longer, you start tweaking at your nipples. The sight has Eddie groaning into you, sending heavy vibrations straight to your folds.

“ Fuck , Eddie.” You want to scream, but you’re afraid that the neighbors might hear. You stifle a few more moans to the depths of your soul, until you feel your climax inching towards you. He answers incoherently into your pussy, but you know what he wants. His hands grip you tighter, helping you grind against his face. With one more hard suck around your nub, your orgasm comes crashing down on you. Your center pulses with each high, and you swear you’re seeing stars. You topple over, body limp beside Eddie as he licks his lips. His face is drenched with your cum. 

“Was it that good, princess? I didn’t even get to finger you yet.” He waves his fingers humorously in front of your face. He’s leaning on one arm, admiring the work he’s made of you. Your chest is still heaving from the intensity, and you fan yourself.

“God, yes, it was so—I don’t even—have you done this before?” 

“Oh, but of course,” he replies without missing a beat. You looked at him in surprise, then at the mess he made out of you. “What, do I seem like a virgin?” Your eyes are half-lidded, and you feel the embrace of sleep coming over you, but you’re able to muster out a yes and a few chortles for good measure.

Eddie had gotten up in the meantime and wiped his face with a towel, then used another to wipe you down. You croak out a “ Thanks” as he places a kiss on your forehead. He’s about to pull his covers over you, but you grab his hand with a frightful ferocity, alarming the poor man before you. He looks at you in question. 

You fight the sleep in your eyes, and yank on his belt loop. He falls over you, quickly catching himself with an arm next to your head. He chuckles. “What is it, sweetheart? Haven’t had enough?” 

You palm him over the jeans, and he hisses, but keeps steady. It was the most overwhelming orgasm you had ever experienced in your life, and as a result, your body’s energy levels are depleted. You feel guilty, wanting to return the favor, especially since he still has a hard-on, but it was getting more difficult each second that passes by. He notices and moves to the side of the bed.

“Maybe next time,” he says.

“Next time,” you whisper.

And the world fades to black.

[megamindsecretlair]

I'll Be Seeing You

Pairing: Jack Reacher x Black!Fem!reader/plus size reader

Warnings: 18+ only. MINORS DNI. You are in charge of your own reading experience. PIV, Cursing, SMUT, ANGST, fingering (fem receiving), nipple play, Sorry if I missed others. No spoilers for the show.

Summary: When Reacher reached your town, he was lucky enough to meet you the first day. You made him feel things he’d never felt before. And though there was the sad tug of goodbye in every interaction, he couldn’t help but stay one more night.

AO3 Link

Word count: 2,253k

A/N: Ask and ye shall receive, @kiwi-jelly-mochi! LOL. I rewatched Reacher tonight. Need that man badly! This is what my brain considers a drabble. Enjoy! Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, reblog, or unhinged ask.

Reacher had a lot of adjusting to do when it came to you. He was a man that prided himself on being as free as possible, never sticking anywhere for too long. He didn’t stay in the same place twice. There was too much world to see and his boots were made for walking. 

However, when he blew through your hometown, he saw you sitting outside of a local coffee cafe, nose deep in a book and sipping on hot coffee. A glance was all it took for him to know that he had to meet you. Talk to you. 

It took some convincing. You kept saying you didn’t usually go for “white guys”. Like you were trying to convince yourself not to say yes to him. That only made him try harder. Stick around the town longer than usual, actually finding the place relaxing for once. 

No matter where he went, trouble always seemed to follow. Not here. Not with you. It was like you cast some type of spell over the town, warding it from any evil intent swinging through. If he believed in such things, he’d firmly believe you cast a spell on him. 

It could explain how his chest grew tight whenever you looked at him. Or when you smiled at something small like when flower petals landed on your hand or when you heard children laughing. You were so sweet all the time. So full of love and optimism besides all the horrors in the world. 

He strangely found that he didn’t mind it. He wanted to soak up more of it. Be around it. Around you. Interested in the way you make him feel. Stirring up feelings he wasn’t sure how to interpret. 

His favorite thing so far was when you called him your robot. He knew he wasn’t the most expressive, the most welcoming. He’d been called everything under the sun by men twice your height and weight, upset that someone treated them like an adult for once. 

He would be lying if he didn’t like your attempts to make him smile naturally. Doing funny impressions, making funny faces at him, bumping your shoulder with his. He played along, doubling down on being a robot but that was okay.

He liked that you were the beauty to his brute. You made him feel like Fred Flinstone whenever you blinked those cute eyes at him. You let him turn his brain off, live in the moment. 

Speaking of, you were sitting on your couch, drinking your favorite drink and listening to old vinyl records your grandmother left you. You weren’t really into the music, but listening to it made you feel closer to her. Mourn the relationship you never had. Okay, so maybe he couldn’t always turn it off.

In his mind, details mattered. He wanted to bask in all of your details. The moles, the scars, the lines in the palm of your hand. You’ve lived and that made you the most interesting thing in the world to him.

Cool jazz music played, Billie’s voice crooning, and you lightly bobbed your head, looking at him. He smiled at you, loving the soft way your eyes crinkled. You took another sip and tilted your head at him. “What you thinkin’ about Mr. Robot?” You asked. You reached out and tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“You,” he said, seeing no reason to be coy. 

“What about me?” You asked.

“How pretty you’d look in my lap,” he said. 

You giggled and shook your head. But you placed your drink down on the coffee table and scooted closer. “You’re gonna make it hard when you finally say goodbye,” you said, your voice wobbling. You kept on a brave face, smiling despite it all.

He told you that he wasn’t the sticking around type. The more he stayed here, the more he gained familiar haunts with you day by day, he wasn’t so sure that was true anymore. Wanderlust was his first love. Needing to roam thanks to his military background. Never putting down roots. Never staying in any one place long enough to make connections. Just a mean right hook and an itch whenever he saw injustice. 

Yet, whenever he thought of leaving, his chest would seize and he’d have to sit there and breathe through the panic. He knew he was in too deep already, but he needed one more night. One more day to wrap himself inside you and pretend to live there. Pretend to claim you. Pretend that you’ll always remember him when you’ve found the love of your life and forgot all about him. 

Just one more. That was all he needed. Then he’d be strong enough. Then he’d be the only one strong enough to leave you.

For now, he pulled you by the hand to come sit in his lap. You giggled, scrambling across the lush blue cushions to climb into his lap. He also loved it when you got excited. The way you lived out loud, expressed emotions clearly and vividly. So much so, even a brute like him could pick up on it. Become infected by it. Feel it latch onto his bloodstream and never let up. 

He pushed your black flowered dress up your thighs as you settled into his lap. He grabbed two big handfuls of your ass, squeezing it hard just like you needed it. You growled, rolling against his crotch like a needy slut. 

You weren’t wearing panties and he chuckled as he gripped your ass, giving it a light smack. “No panties this time?” He asked. 

“They just get in the way. Someone has a penchant for ripping them,” you said, pointedly looking at him. You leaned down, pressing your lips to his. He hummed, licked his lips, and leaned in for another kiss. You indulged him, bringing your hands to cup his strong square jaw and scratch at his stubble. 

“You’re right, they’re in the way,” he said, grinning naturally, just for you. Your eyes lit up and you squirmed in his lap.

His dick was throbbing with your movements. With the subtle friction from your breasts pushed into his chest. He squeezed your ass again, giving it another smack. He began to kiss your neck, licking the pulse in your neck and causing you to purr. You melted in his hands, falling against him as he moved further down.

He used his teeth to pull down the cups of your dress, freeing your breasts and humming in satisfaction. Fuck, he loved your breasts. Loved how they were the perfect shape and size. He leaned down, needing to feel your soft flesh in his mouth.

He latched onto a nipple, sucking hard. You squealed, hitting his shoulder. He chuckled, sucking harder. He tortured the little nub, feeling it peak beneath his tongue. 

“Oh, fuck, Reacher, I could write entire books about this mouth,” you moaned, throwing your head back. You poked your chest out, giving him full and complete access. Just as he liked. 

“Please do, I’d love to read it,” he whispered against your titty. You chuckled, bouncing in his lap and rubbing against his dick. He felt lightning strikes straight to his balls, getting heavier with a thick load just for you. 

He let go of your titty with a wet pop, leaning back far enough to admire his handy work. Satisfied, he moved on to the other, suckling it and moaning as you rubbed in just the right place. Just enough for him to buck his hips. 

“I need you, Reacher,” you whispered into his hair, kissing his head. 

“I got you,” he said. For now. For this moment. For this brief interlude in between towns when he discovered all there was and planned to move on to the next. The next people. He wouldn’t find another you, however. 

He picked you up effortlessly, scooting you back on his thighs so that he could free himself. He groaned as his dick was released from his jeans, pressure finally eased. You leaned over to the end table, grabbing a discreet foil package.

He’d been here an entire week and he’d fucked you every single day. Never without a condom. He wished to feel you completely. To soak his dick with your slick. Your essence. The very heart of you. He wanted it. And that was exactly why he couldn’t. 

If you were an old blues record, you were one of the rare, more optimistic ones. The ones that hurt his heart and made him think at the same time. You sounded like forever in every ring around the record, the delicate scratch of the needle. You needed someone to handle you with care. With love. To play you every Sunday right as the sun went down, fresh glass of lemonade beside. To protect, to hold. 

And that was why he never forgot the condom. Neither did you. You handed it to him and he opened it, rolling it on, and he used his fingers to gauge how wet you were. 

Fuck, you were dripping. He groaned and went back to kissing your chest. Working his way up to your jaw, to the corners of your mouth, kissing you fully on the lips. Heat washed over him, a burning fire under his ass to get inside you as quickly as possible.

He played with your clit as he lined himself up, sinking you down on his dick. “Unf, fuck,” he moaned. You didn’t even grimace or cry out that time. A week was all it took for you to get acclimated to his size. 

“You’re killing me,” he said.

You giggled, pressing kisses into his face. He fucking loved it. Your hands went around his neck, starting to lift up and down onto his dick. 

Your breathing was shaky but you persisted, lifting all the way off of him and then sinking right back down. You groaned as he seemed to hit some kind of spot inside of you, rubbing his thick mushroom head along your inner walls.

“Shit, fuck me, Reacher. Fuck me, please,” you begged.

Reacher hooked his hands under your thighs and sped up, fucking you onto his dick with a little more speed. You cried, soaking his dick. He could feel it, but he couldn’t really feel it.

“Oh shit, right there. Right there, Reacher, right there,” you whimpered.

He listened. He kept the same pace, the same thrust, spearing you on his massive dick. “Let me hear you,” he said.

You cried harder, whimpered longer, moaned in a tinny voice that sent more lightning strikes to his dick. He seemed to swell just hearing how needy you were. Felt how wet you were for him. He pretended that it was only for him. That you would only ever get this wet for him. To bless him with this side of you. This unregulated, wholesome, completely authentic part of you. 

“Louder, louder,” he said, panting, thrusting up to meet you bouncing on his dick. You felt amazing. Perfect. So perfect.

Your cries got louder, moaning battling the music still crooning in the late afternoon. Your living room was small but it suited you. Everything about the space was warm and comforting. Even the couch. He sank pleasantly into it, firm enough to meet your sopping wet pussy.

Your titties bounced in his face. He watched your pert brown nipples dangling like sweet berries in front of his face. He resisted the urge to suck on them again, instead looking up at you.

Your mouth was open, tongue peeking out. Your eyes were low, spaced out, and the most beautiful sight of all. Better than any piece of artwork. Any genius masterpiece. Your nails dug into his shoulders. He barely felt it.

He wasn’t arrogant enough to not feel pain, but he was a big guy. He could take a punch and he could certainly take the way you gripped onto him for dear life. “Oh, Reacher, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum,” you moaned, diving down for a kiss. 

“Let me feel it,” he said, looking into your eyes. 

You tightened your hold, gritted your teeth before your jaw went slack and you shook on his dick. He kept bouncing you, felt how your pussy tightened and pulsed on his dick. He moaned, wanting to keep looking at you but also wanting to let the sensation take over. 

Sensation won out as he dropped his head back against the couch cushion, smacking your ass as you moaned from your orgasm. He was close. Now that you came, he could take it a step further. Slide in deeper. Bounce you quicker. 

His balls tightened as he finally climaxed, hot sperm shooting into the condom. He moaned, grabbing onto your ass for an anchor point. He grunted as he finished, looking down at where you were connected.

Your skin was slick with sweat, chest heaving with breaths. He grinned at you, couldn’t help wanting to make you smile. He was going to hate himself when he had to make you sad.

“I think I’m gonna stay one more night,” he said, bringing you into a kiss. He licked your lips and you gasped and he slipped his tongue inside, needing to taste more. Do more. 

“Okay, but only one more,” you said, against his lips. You got an evil glint in your eye and he wondered if you weren’t up to something devious tonight. He couldn’t wait to find out.

There will be more! The Secret Jack Reacher Files

Taglist: @planetblaque @chaos-4baby @00aijia00 @amethyst09 @ciaqui

@we-outsiiiide @browngirldominion @iv0rysoap @thecookiebratz @harmshake

@judymfmoody @multiversefanfics @tvchi @kiwi-jelly-mochi

[londonfog-chan]

I Will Not Keep My Mouth Shut About this High School Romance Between Eddie Munson x Reader (Headcanons)

Why lord? Why are we not talking about this?

I’ve dated metalhead guys in the past, and believe in me when I say these fuckers move fast.

Eddie is no exception to this rule. He loves hard and quickly, especially if you’re into the same things he’s into as well.

I’m talking balls to the wall insanity like: the day won’t even be over and he’ll have already asked you out, kissed you, offered you weed, and secretly be planning the names of the four kids he wants with you.

Mans is delulu as fuck for you.

As much as he has his passions there’s just something about the fact that you actually gave the town freak unconditional love that makes him desperate. Corroded Coffin, Hellfire Club, he’d pick you over them any day if it meant he got to keep you.

Guarantee, you’ll already have gone all the way before the weekend is up of that first week of the relationship.

Cherry boy cherry boy cherry boy.

But he knows what he’s doing. It will have been awkward but the best part is now “Rainbow in the Dark” makes you feel all hot under the collar and “Shame on the Night” makes you laugh and reminds you of the awkward panic cleaning up after.

The epitome of live fast die young. He will throw his life away if you ask him to, so make sure you use your powers wisely.

At some point Eddie will ask you to run away with him. He doesn’t give a shit where, so long as it’s with you.

Shared interests are probably how the two of you met in the first place, especially if you’re like me and unable to beat the weird kid allegations. You drifted towards his club because you for whatever reason were an outcast too.

Eddie would probably crush on those who are conventionally pretty, popular, the epitome of the 80’s beauty standards. That’s just human nature. But with you… it’s so much more different.

You’re like his nerdy fantasies come to life, like the princesses he writes about in his campaigns that are a mix of dark, dangerous, able to hold their own and fight for him and with him. Think of if you will a sexy bombshell rotoscoped into those old metal music videos. Facing the world wearing only red lipstick and a cocksure expression.

He would get along so well with someone who wasn’t afraid to let their wild side show, or to express it. But at the same time if you’re more shy and reserved, he is determined to help you come out of that shell and be the best possible version of yourself.

It’s impossible not to match his excitable energy, it’s just so goddamn contagious. It might scare you how far you’re willing to go for Eddie and how quickly you might find yourself changing. Because believe me, you will change, and it will be for the better.

Eddie will always be your number one hype man.

He will literally be so excited about everything you do because it’s you! The person he loves more than anyone in this whole entire world.

Eddie will literally put up with so much for you. Even if you guys fight he will struggle to maintain his composure because he does not want to fuck this beautiful thing up.

Drives himself up the wall with anxiety about it too. But that’s the thing about Eddie’s dynamic with you: is that he will do what it takes to keep his fucking cool around you.

Your fights are infrequent but can get explosive if there are unsaid insecurities. So to avoid this: keep honest with him. About everything. Don’t lie to him, because as fast as he fell for you, lying is the quickest way to break his trust and send him packing.

One of his flaws in the relationship is that his insecurity that this will all go away will make him all that more prepared to leave if you have a massive blow up fight.

Like he’s already preplanned his exit strategy and everything.

But the longer you’re together, the more comfortable he gets and eventually he settles down from jumping the gun into taking things one day at a time.

He’s a fucking keeper. And all I’m gonna say is you better start training with swinging a blunt weapon because once you have him, you’re going to be right there in the Upside Down fucking up some monsters keeping them away from your man.

[valley-of-headcanons]

If I can request, you did the way the bachelorettes react to ex-stardom. I enjoyed it so much and would love to see it for the bachelors too?

I love your writings ;u; ♡

bachelors reacting to your ex-stardom || headcanons

being in the limelight was fun for a while, but settling down is definitely what you needed. but how would your partner react to your past? part one here!

warnings: nothing that i can see! :)

requested by: anon! hii, thank you so much for the request! this topic is pretty interesting, and i really enjoyed writing for everyone! be sure to check out part one, it adds a little more context and i think it's super duper cool and you're definitely missing out. anyway! hope you enjoy :)

alex

• You and Alex were on the beach, resting after tossing around the Gridball. He got on the topic of his dream of playing Gridball professionally, and how although he wanted to make it big and turn his passion into a profession, he wouldn't know what to do with himself. He's been such a shut-in these last few years, only really hanging out with you and his grandparents. The fame sounds so scary. But ... you knew that all too well. He didn't know that, though. Maybe it was time.

• You slowly told Alex that you knew a lot about being famous, before explaining who you were. “Wait- what?! Why didn't you tell me sooner?! I love your music! Genuinely, like I listen to it all the time ... I know it's not really the manliest choice and it's my guilty pleasure- not to say men shouldn't listen to your music! Oh my yoba- sorry- ... I love your music. That's what I'm trying to say. It's really really good.”

• As you explained why you left the limelight, Alex nodded understandingly. “Yeah, Gridball will always be a dream of mine, but the people I'd be around are probably not good. Maybe staying in the town isn't such a bad idea, huh? I don't think anyone could really beat hangin' with you, grandma, and grandpa.”

• Alex soon opened up about which of your songs was his favorite, and asked in depth about them. There were some that really spoke to him emotionally, and he had a really bad time dealing with that sort of stuff. The fact that you created something he relates to makes him happier than ever! He scored pretty good, if he says so himself.

• Regardless of your old fame, he's still deeply in love with you. He admires your talent, but that doesn't overshadow how you've helped him in his life since you've actually been in it. He will still listen to your music, but maybe a little more publicly. He wouldn't tell anyone unless you said it was okay, but he'd totally be bragging about you if he were allowed.

elliott

• Elliott was not having a great writing session. He invited you over, incredibly stumped with his latest novel. He was bouncing ideas off of you left and right, but nothing would stick! You mentioned that music could be an inspiration, and it was like a lightbulb smacked him in the forehead. He raced over to his stereo and turned on the radio. A cheese-y pop tune ... YOUR cheese-y pop tune. He was embarrassed over the pop playing and immediately turned it, but he did notice your expression and inquired.

• You explained that the song on the radio was a song that you wrote and sang yourself. He was startled at first. “I didn't know we had such a big star in our midst! Are those your lyrics as well? I didn't pin you as such a wonderful writer, but I am so grateful! Someone that shares my writing prowess! I knew some invisible string brought us together!”

• As you continue to explain your past and why you came out to Pelican Town, Elliott nods along, hearing your story. “I didn't realize how similar we are. I understand wanting to get away from it all, that's why I'm out here as well. I suppose you came here to get away from your work, and I came to get closer to it. How awfully poetic that is, don't you think?”

• He asked a lot of questions, really diving deep into your mind. Of course, he only asked if you were comfortable with it. He loved analyzing people's minds, especially if they were different from his own. He may or may not use some of these aspects of your life in his new novel. With your permission, of course. You've always been his biggest muse.

• Elliott is invested in your life, like any good partner should, and admires your creative talent. This only heightens his view of you, as you are an artist, just like him. Despite the different mediums, you two share a lot in common. He would love you regardless of this aspect, but this only draws you two closer.

harvey

• Harvey was giving you a check-up, which was a bit unethical now that you were dating, but eh. He's the only doctor in the town and he's very worried about your health. He noticed that you mentioned a previous injury when checking your knee reflexes. This injury has occurred in a rehearsal for one of your tours. You didn't want to lie to your sweet boyfriend, so you had to admit the truth.

• As he wrote on his clipboard your reasoning, he stopped for a moment. “Tour? Popstar? Is this one of your sarcastic comments that I'm not getting? ... oh, really? You've never mentioned that part of your life before. Please, if you want to open up about it, show me some of your work once we get home. I hate to admit, but I'm fairly curious,” he said with a soft, caring smile.

• When you two get home after the checkup, he starts to cook dinner. “Please, keep me company while I cook. If you'd like to share some stories ... well, only if you're comfortable with it, I know that you got away from fame for a reason, but ... I want to know that part of your life, just like I know this one. Indulge me, if you would, my love.”

• He tries his best to support this part of your life, even if he wasn't involved. He ends up purchasing a lot of your old music and keeping a collection, showing it as a sign of affection. He listens to it while he does household chores, humming along to your songs happily while you're away.

• Harvey didn't mind this aspect of your life. It was another thing that made you the person he loves. He listens to everything you say and pays attention, specifically to the parts of fame you enjoyed and didn't enjoy. He only asked about the stuff you liked, and allowed you to open up about the hard times on your own, when you were ready. He was incredibly careful about the whole thing, and wouldn't dare make you uncomfortable.

sam

• As you and Sam were relaxing in his room one day, he was fiddling with his guitar. He seemed super stumped, strumming random chords to try and make some sense. Nothing was working ... he eventually showed you something that sounds sort of functional? But this rhythm was VERY similar to a song you put out a long time ago. You let out a soft giggle, which left Sam confused. You had to explain now.

• You drop the fact that you were a popstar in a nonchalant manner, trying to make it not a huge deal. But it's Sam. Of course it's a big deal. “No. Fucking. WAY! You're kidding, you've gotta be fucking with me! And you didn't tell me?! For SHAME! As punishment, you've gotta tell me all about it and I will refuse to change the topic. Now SPILL!”

• You explained who you are and why you left everything behind, which Sam thought about for a moment. “Wow ... I never really bought about fame that way. That must've been a lot, and I really do get why you came all the way down here. I'm just glad you're here now, y'know? ... but if you do end up getting the itch to create some music again, with no strings attached to fame, I'm always here. I'd love to create somethin' sick with you.”

• Sam always asked questions about the parts of fame he didn't know much about. Did you go to any parties? Was this person actually chill or were they a dick? He was so curious and asked probably the weirdest questions imaginable, but they were refreshing. And if you weren't the first person Sam showed his music to before, you were now. He always asked for your approval, and asked how to improve. It was extremely sweet.

• Even though he was excited about everything you had presented to him, he tried his best to be respectful. If you asked him to stop, he would with a nod and a quick apology, giving you a small kiss before putting the topic to bed. He still loved you for you! This aspect about you is just so cool and interesting to him. He adores you regardless, and wouldn't trade the current version of you for anyone else.

sebastian

• Sebastian had just finished working for the day and needed to relax. He flopped down on his couch and pressed the button on his radio. The pop station came on, and he was about to turn it before you walked in. You were shocked to hear your own song playing, staring at him with wide eyes. He makes some sarcastic comments about how this is actually his music taste and you just don't understand him. He doesn't understand why you're so shocked, though.

• As you slowly drop the bomb, he lets out a little chuckle. “Hah. Funny. You can drop the act, I can tell you're fuckin' with me ... are you really a world renowned superstar with several albums with hundreds of chart toppers? Like I believe that! Why the hell would you choose Pelican Town of all places to live, huh? This is the type of town you need to run away from.”

• You eventually have to explain why you left, why that lifestyle really wasn't you. He's actually at a loss for words for a moment, before nodding. “I didn't expect that out of you, you really are full of surprises. Tell me more, if you wanna. I'd be willing to listen. If you don't wanna talk about all that shit though, it's fine. Whatever you wanna do,” he said with a welcoming smile.

• Your music was FAR from what Sebastian listened to commonly. His Radiohead collection can attest for that. But ... he decided to take a listen to your music. He's very picky usually, so this is a pretty good feat. He actually kind of enjoyed it, for once. Maybe you're leading him down the path of liking something that's not edgy. Hmm. That's nice.

• Sebastian found this part of you incredibly interesting, but he didn't ask many questions. If you wanted him to know, he would, and he respected that. He loves hearing you talk about anything that you're passionate about, or just hearing you talk in general. It's arguably one of his favorite past times.

shane

• You and Shane were sitting by the pier one night. This was Shane's safe spot, attempting not to start drinking again. You two spent several afternoons sitting under the glow of the stars with an old cassette player and some of Shane's favorite songs. One of these nights, he mentioned that his childhood dream was to be an actor, and how weird fame seemed. He would hate being famous ... and you did too. This would be a perfect time to drop this bomb.

• You mentioned your past to Shane, but he brushed it off. “Uh huh. And I'm actually a famous bowler but I fucked up my arm and now I'm destined to live the rest of my life in this little shit hole. Oh, my poor dreams. How sad,” he said, his dry humor biting with sarcasm. He noticed your facial expressions ... they weren't sarcastic. “... I'm sober right? You didn't spike my drink or somethin' and you're tryin' to fuck with me ... huh. Now that's a topic.”

• You explained everything, mainly about why you came back here. You figured Shane wouldn't really know much about who you were, that's not his type of music anyway. “Huh. Nice. I figured you were just some corporate big league who got tired of the white walls. A lot of things make a lot more sense, I guess. You're a lot more talented than I thought ... sorry, that was mean- let me rephrase ... you are talented. I really am tryin' to get better about that ...”

• Shane didn't ask much about it further, but would listen if you brought it up again. He ended up stumbling across your work ... it was way better than he imagined. Maybe because it was you. It was a source of comfort to him, and he often listened to your beautiful voice when he was in a dark time. It helped him through a lot.

• He didn't mind your past, you had a lot less skeletons in your closet than he did. He liked hearing your voice, so it was a win-win. He got this down-to-Earth side of you that he enjoys being around, but he can also listen to his star-studded partner whenever he wants. He wouldn't tell you that, though. That's his little secret.

[dsireland86]

Hii, saw that ur requests are open so gotta take the chance and ask for folio fluff. Maybe him and reader meet at an music festival and he’s just in love at first sight? Thank u!! :)

I LOVE this idea! Folio fluff makes me feel so fluffy and warm. He's really is just the cutest thing :)

Tags: @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @supersquirrel1996 @lma1986

THE FESTIVAL

Bad Omens are playing their last summer festival for the year. Despite the heat and humidity, Folio can't resist scouting the festival grounds in hopes of coming across someone from one of his favorite bands that's playing as well. He's met fans and other people in the music business, but no such luck in meeting his inspirations.

But then he sees you and everything else no longer seems important. You're laughing, standing in a group of people he assumes are your friends. Your aurora is cheerful and sweet in the midst of all the loudness and chaos, a promise of a quick, quiet getaway before the show tonight.

Folio watches as a friend leans over to you and says something into you're ear and he's pretty sure it's about him considering the way you quickly turn and look over at him. The moment your eyes meet, both of you are instantly hooked. The smile you're wearing never leaves your lips, and the expression on your sweet face tells him that you're defiantly interested yet possibly a little confused, too. Normally, he'd never do anything like what he's about to do, but his heart is telling him so many things, and he can't ignore them. He has to listen to them.

He walks over to you, taking the chance that you're not a crazed fan or a stuck-up snob, and the second he's in your presence, he's glad he listened to his heart.

"Hey," he says, grinning like a lovesick teenager. The three rum and cokes he's had are definitely giving him the extra boost of confidence he needs.

"Hey yourself," you grin back, biting your bottom lip slightly, making Folio's heart race. Your eyes capture a spark of the setting sun, creating a twinkle that makes you so mesmerizing to him that it's hard for him to look away. All he can do is stand there speechless.

Finally, he rallies up the courage to lean over and say into your ear, "Do you wanna talk a walk with me? Maybe grab a drink?" He's hoping he's not coming off lame or even too forward even, but rather cool and casual

"You want to take a walk with me?" You seem surprised.

Folio looks around. "Well, I don't see anyone else around that I'd be talking to."

You laugh, and oh my god it's the prettiest laugh he's ever heard.

"Touché," you nod with a smile. "Alight, sure. I'd love to."

"Alright," Folio smiles, suddenly feeling way too insecure to be walking next to a girl as pretty as you. You take your place next to him, making sure to keep enough distance between the two of you, and Folio can't help but feel a little put off by the gesture, although he's not sure what he was expecting. You're a young girl alone in a big place with a bunch of crazy drunk people; how could he blame you for being cautious?

For the next few minutes, the two of you wander around, shooting off random questions to each other. Folio learns a little about you like where you're from, what you do for a living, and a few small interests you have, and also that you can be very sarcastic in a funny way that's always keeping him on his toes.

"So, enough about me, what about you," you say, taking another sip of the mixed drink he'd picked up for the two of you to share (because in his own words, "If I drink all of this before a show, I'll be lit off my ass and Noah would be pissed.")

"You really have no clue who I am or what I do?" He's surprised, especially since dropping Noah's name.

You shake your head quickly. "Nope, but I bet I can take a guess." You've moved a little closer to him now and Folio's not sure if it's the alcohol that's making you a little more confident or just that you're finally beginning to warm up to him.

"Okay, shoot. Take a guess," he tells you, thinking you'll never figure it out. The way your eyes narrow as you stare at him and that sweet little grin creeps into the corners of your lips, it has his heart racing again and his knees feeling weaker than they should feel.

"Hmm, I bet," you playfully guess, running your eyes slowly down his body, pausing at certain spots that give Folio all the right kind of tingles.

"You're a drummer."

"Hmm, impressive! But of what band?"

"Oh, wait! You're actually part of band?"

At first, Folio thinks you're serious, but then he sees that sarcastic look on your face again and relaxes, realizing you're just messing with him.

"Ha-ha, funny," he grumbles, reaching for your hand only to softly brush his fingers over your fingers. But you surprise him, yet again, when your fingers capture his and intertwine them together. He looks up at you and sees the most beautiful twinkle in your eyes, and it's then he realizes he can't leave this festival tonight without you.

As if you can read his mind, you move in closer to him until your bodies are almost touching. Folio has a little bit of height on you, just enough for you to have to look up to gaze at him. For a moment, he forgets to breathe, feeling you this close to him. You smell like the ocean and the wind, fresh and clean with a little hint of lemon. It's invigorating to him, and he wonders if your skin taste like the saltiness of the same ocean you come from.

"You are overthinking everything, aren't you," you chuckle, playing with his fingers. Your touch alone is driving Folio crazy, making him feel things he hasn't felt in a while. He's missed it, and now that he's found you, he can't think of anyone else he'd rather feel this way with. It's you. For some strange reason, he feels it's always been you."

Folio lets go of the breath he's been holding, lightly laughing at her comment. "Yeah, I probably am overthinking a lot right now."

You smile, letting go of his hand. He instantly misses it, already feeling empty without it. But lucky for him, you place that same hand on his chest, right near his heartbeat.

"I have a confession," you tell him, and suddenly Folio is panicking, thing this is the part where everything goes wrong and you tell him you already have a boyfriend. Better get it over fast.

"Oh yeah, and what's that?" He swallows hard, squeezing his eyes closed, ready for the knife to his heart.

"I actually do know who you are and what band you play in. I was just playing around with you."

Folio's eyes snap open and he looks at you wildly yet confused.

"What? Seriously? You don't have a boyfriend?" Folio closes his eyes again, clenching his teeth together from embarrassment.

"A boyfriend," you laugh, shaking your head, very confused. "Why would you think I have a boyfriend? You think I'd be here with you right now if I did?"

Folio exhales, suddenly feeling very stupid. "That's a very good point," he chuckles. "Why did you pretend like you didn't know who I was if you really do?" He takes your hand and places it back on his chest; the place where he really likes feeling it. The sun is beginning to set, which means he has to hurry and get to the back of the stage for the show.

"I didn't want you to think I agreed to hang out with you because you're Nick Folio from Bad Omens, when really I wanted to hang out with you because you're a really cute guy who's really sweet and nice. That's all. Didn't mean anything by it. I just," but Folio cuts you off by capturing your lips in his, kissing you like he's known you all his life. The drink in your hand is suddenly forgotten about, falling to the ground as soon as you snake your arms around his neck. He wraps his hands around your waist, pulling you in close to his chest, and you really believe you can feel his heart pounding against his chest. You remove his Harley hat and run your fingers through the long brown stands of his hair, earning you a soft moan against your mouth and a hand to your bottom, making you giggle. Finally, he lets your lips go but continues to hold you against him.

"That was,"

"Incredible."

"Yeah," you smile with a laugh.

Folio kisses you again, and it's just as magical as the first time.

"I don't want this to be over, Nick," you whispers, running your hands up his chest.

"I don't either. And we don't have to just yet. Come with me. I'll introduce you to the guys and some crew and you can hang out on the side of the stage and watch. When the shows over, we'll go somewhere quiet, just you and me. The guys and I don't have to hit the road for another two days."

Your smile is bright enough to light up a darkened room. You take his face between your hands, giving Folio a surge of exhilaration, and kiss him softly yet with enough passion that he knows you want him.

"So, that's a yes?"

"Yeah," you laugh. "As crazy as it sounds, it's a yes!"

"Oh sweetheart, crazy is my middle name. My friends don't call me "Animal" for no reason!"

Folio's teasing has you following right behind him, hand locked tight in his while his Harley hat sits perfectly in it's new place; your head.

"I could get used to seeing you in my hats."

"Good, because ball caps are a serious addiction for me."

"Good thing I have plenty then," he grins, slipping you a quick kiss before climbing the steps to the stage as the beginning of the bands first song of the night starts. He looks back at you one more time, giving you a quick wink and that wickedly adorable smile of his before hitting his drum kit with the first notes of the night.

[ai-luni]

Love ur NSFW headcanon for Rorke! Never really interested with him till I read ur work!! If u don't mind, could u make one for Keegan?

Keegan Russ NSFW Headcanons

A/N: In keegan we trust.

Word count: 1.5k

I’m just saying, if he ever said “damn kid, who taught you how to do that” I’d actually just lose all my cool and faint. This man’s voice is the epitome of italics

This man may have the hardest shell, but in truth Keegan is a sap. Denial is a river in Egypt, YOUR HUSBANDS A SAP! 

No but truly, he will love you with everything he’s got. And although he may not be able to express it very well outwardly, you can always tell by the way he looks at you. His favourite thing to do is look at you, study you and make you react to things.

This man loves to hold you. His hands are strong and rough and calloused, he loves how they show his hard work and strength and he most definitely loves using them on you. To grip your thighs, your hands, your hair, your neck, your waist, you name it. 

He feels the most confident in his control over his hands and fingers, so he loves to tease and finger you. 

That being said, he also loves the way your hands are the complete opposite to his. smaller and softer, it makes him want to work harder to keep them that way. I think he’d have such an obsession with you giving him handjobs. 

He’d dream of catching you in the act of getting yourself off so he’d be able to join you. Getting each other off at the same time. 

He thinks about whether he would edge you until you came with him or try to make you come as soon as possible and keep going just because he can. He’s definitely thought about being a little goblin and saying you’ll cum together, then pulling away at the last minute. 

He will also kiss the centre of your palm as a form of public affection. 

His movements are always cool, calm and deliberate. He’s alway thinking about where to place his fingers. His kisses are neat, down your jaw and neck he’s kissing to leave a mark or travelling to his next destination. 

And you’ll know what kind of mood he’s in by the way he fucks. If he’s riled up, he plans out deep, rough thrusts. Harder rather than faster. He’ll pump in rough, watching the way your body bounces, your eyes squeezing themself shut as your breath is thrown out of you with a sigh or a choke. Then he’ll take his time pulling out, letting out a strained breath, often forgetting to breathe.

(This man’s love language is an act of service, I won’t take criticism on this. But I feel like if you kept a hand on his chest, monitoring his heart beat or his breath and reminded him to breathe, he would just be so over the moon giddy). 

Whereas, if he’s all passionate and sentimental, he’ll rock into you. Holding your hips and moving you with him. I think he'd love it if you took him this way, him sitting back on his knees, you sitting on his thighs. He’d pray you’ll wrap your arms around his neck as you rest your foreheads together. Keeping your chests pressed onto each other, feeling your little gasps and the vibrations of every moan you let out.

This man also seems like the kind of guy that would love to lay on his side, whether you're on your back or side as well. 

“Atta girl. That’s it.”

I read a fanfic once (If I find it, I’ll link it here) where he slow dances with the reader and she teases him. “What would your team think if they saw you like this?” I: 

1. 100% believe this man loves to slow dance with his partner. Think after he’s taken you out to a nice dinner and returned home, you’ve kicked off your heels and the two of you just sway to music in the dim living room. 

And 2. Believe that if you said that to him, it would set off something feral within him. He definitely has the capability to pound away at you but I think he has too much self control. You’d have to really tease and pull it out of him and show him you want it so bad. 

I think out of all of the ghosts, he’d be the hardest to pull out any kind of intense dominance. I feel like he has the strongest mentality that you die first and foremost for the mission, so he tries to keep as little emotional strings attached to people as possible (Especially after Ajax’s death). So if he did have a partner, it would have to be someone he cares about so so deeply and would want to show that love to constantly.

He checks in with you alot. It’s habitual. If you grunt at a hard thrust he’ll whisper a quiet little “you doing alright love?” If you react favourably to something he does to you, he’d say “You like that? Mmm?” He’ll constantly be purring in your ear without even knowing the kind of effect it has on you. 

Some days, he’ll get home and see you sitting on the couch. In a matter of seconds, he’s already thought out a plan to get you into bed. When he’ll sit down, where he’ll touch you and he’ll anticipate your every response.

The game plan is usually to sit next to you like he’s just had the roughest day, rest his head on the back of the lounge and wait until you climb on top of him and say “let me help you with that baby.”  

If he’s fired up some days, he’ll just put you over his shoulder and take you to the bedroom. Most of the time though, he’ll pick you up and make you straddle him right there on the lounge. 

Keegan also seems to be able to handle(let's be honest, bottle) his emotions the best on the team so I feel like he’d absolutely love just relaxing and cuddling with you. You are the only person he can really strip down to his most vulnerable and he’ll take advantage of that every chance he can. You are his self care. 

When he’s alone at night after a rough day, he’ll only ever think of having a bath with you. Lighting a couple candles, putting in that soapy rainbow thing you always buy that smells like lavender and having you sit between his legs. 

Your warm, soft skin against his chest, hair tickling his nose. The way your eyelashes flutter every time his hands graze your waist. He’ll be mesmerised by your parted lips letting out soft huffs of air, your chest raising in and out of the opaque water as his fingers fiddle with you. The water giving him a good grip to just play with your clit as long as you let him. 

He loves most when you play with his hair. Everything about it he adores. When your fingers twirl around a small tuft, when your nails lightly scrape along his scalp, the soft noise is like asmr to him. This is both when you make love and just in general. When watching tv, when in the car, when at a restaurant. He always wants you to do it and he will always think about you doing it. 

Again if he’s laying in bed at the end of a rough day and is away with you, he might run his own fingers through his hair and pretend it’s you. When he’s desperate enough, he’ll do it when he has to jerk off. He knows he looks like an idiot when he does it but with such a clouded mind, it does absolute wonders in making his hand feel like yours. 

So the lesson learnt today is that if you’re with Keegan, you’ll have to learn pretty quickly how to style his hair. 

Keegan is also a big cockwarmer. Especially if he’s just come in you and is drifting off into a nap, he’d roll onto his back and hold you close to his chest. But also if he’s going over work or you’re going over work and just need to feel close. A relationship with Keegan very much seems like a ‘doing your own thing together’ kind of dynamic most of the time. 

Not nsfw but if you’re not in the military and he’s out on a mission, he or anyone else who knows about you is not allowed to even mutter your name let alone refer to you. Especially if you have children. There's no way he’s taking even the slightest risk of you being found. It might sound cruel to some extent but he is an incredibly disciplined man and the love he feels for you is so deep that to him, this is the only way he’ll truly know that you’re safe. So much so that Walker’s boys don’t even know he has a partner. 

[wavyskies]

A post that's very much related to a separate post that's been going around the graphic side of Tumblr. (To the person that made the original, this is not in bad taste. I'm just stating opinions of my own and opinions that others may have in common with me. I genuinely have no intent on trying to make you look necessarily bad in any way. The first half is just kind of me rephrasing the original post because I thought it had a good point, but that point got lost along the way.):

Make a pretty blog because: you enjoy making it, having one makes you happy, looking at it comforts you, etc.

If making a pretty blog doesn't feel like something that would be worth your time or would make you happy, then don't.

Just have fun and be yourself, there is no standard to meet and you having a "non-aesthetic" blog doesn't reflect on you. People are here for YOU, not your blog aesthetic.

That being said, to anyone and everyone who DOES have an "aesthetic" blog, that's cool. I hope it makes you happy.

And I hope that some people realize that making and decorating a blog, even if it's super "aesthetic," IS a way to express yourself. Art is self expression, fashion is self expression, music is self expression, even book covers can be self expression. It doesn't matter if it follows a color scheme, maybe that's just what you like and what feels right.

And using myself as an example because I'm sure I'm not the only one, I don't make my blog appearance for ANY of you. I'm sorry. It's for me, because it brings me comfort. I like having a pretty blog because it helps with my anxiety, I enjoy looking at it, and it feels more like mine. And also, there are so many blogs I have made that I find "aesthetic" that are on private. They could not be less for followers or status.

"It's just copying" (<- paraphrasing here.) No idea is original. Listen to me: no BOOK idea is entirely original. Every story has technically been done before in one way or another. Does that mean the author has no personality? Does that mean the author has no creativity or is just trying to seem cool? No. There is no such thing as an entirely original thing. But they we're expressing their talent and what they like to do. Let people have fun, let people do what they want.

This same argument can and does happen in the artist community, the writing community, and every other form of art. This is not a new argument, it's just a slightly different context. If this was applied intensely to everything, no one would participate in hobbies anymore.

I love everyone who doesn't have "aesthetic" blogs. I love everyone who does. And yes, some people with pretty blogs get followers more easily, but those followers have minds of their own. If they realise "hey, this person isn't actually all that great of an individual," then they'll unfollow them. A color scheme and some pngs don't earn love and forgiveness. It's all for enjoyment and fun.

Please do be yourself. But be yourself in whatever way works for YOU. At the end of the day, it really is just pixels. So the appearance of your things or how cool you seem DOESN'T matter. But take that again with the context of this post: the appearance of your things or how cool you seem DOESN'T matter. So do what you want.

I am very aware that this post is much less than perfect. There are definitely parts that I could've phrased differently, and things I could've added to convey the message better. But I hope you can understand what I was trying to say. Thank you for your time if you read this far, and if you have any comments or things you would like to add on to improve this, please let me know. And it's more than likely that I'm wrong about a lot of this, and this entire conversation is up to debate. If you disagree, then please discuss it publicly because I think this is an interesting debate and I would love to understand more than my biased stances allow me to right now. Again, thank you so much for your time. Have a lovely day. <3

[pixel-percy]

🌊 A Modern Sensei AU — Mizu's private lessons are helpful but sometimes she just drives you crazy... Maybe in more ways than one. 🌊

🌊 Word Count: 1.7k 🌊 Music Vibes: Make Me Water by Tyla 🌊 Warning(s): Smut (giving head), public sex (they're outside), light Dom/Sub (bratty reader), & mentor/mentee power imbalance (it's all consensual) 🌊 A/N: I've had this on my backlog for so long and I finally got it out of my brain. I loved Blue Eye Samurai when I watched it and Mizu is just so... 😏 hehe

The smack of the wooden sword against your ass was a bit rougher than any of the previous taps you’d received from Mizu. You winced, as you whipped around to look at her, jaw clenched.

“Ow,” you said tersely.

“You keep making the same mistake,” she said cooly, posture impeccable. A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips but she resisted letting it form fully. “You’re not gonna learn if there aren’t any consequences.”

You tensed a little at her tone and how her eyes watched your face behind the yellow tint of her glasses. A gentle breeze moved through the Summer air of the forest and the steady trickle of a nearby river permeated the tense silence between you.

“Well, it still hurt.”

“Didn’t think you’d complain about that,” she replied. A small blush crept along your cheeks but you refused to yield to her incessant teasing. Nothing ever came of it, just shoulder pushes and eye rolls, yet she persisted as if she enjoyed the game of it all despite her cool demeanor.

It was hard to get a read on her sometimes despite how much you wanted to, so you did your best to temper your expectations since these “private lessons” started months ago. You’d known each other for a year or so before, and when you expressed interest in learning some self-defense, Mizu was the first to offer. She had her own dojo and though you offered to pay her, she refused. So here you were.

“Back in your stance,” she instructed and sunk easily into the one she preferred.

“Can we move on from this today?” You didn’t mean to sound so petulant but it was warm and you had messed up this particular set up more times than you wanted to admit. The sting of Mizu’s ‘corrections’ were starting to catch up with you, and while you kind of loved the sensation, the warm air was making you testy.

“Back in your stance,” Mizu repeated.

You sighed deeply.

“3, 2, 1… Go.”

The strikes of the wooden swords echoed through the trees, a steady rhythm that temporarily disrupted the peaceful silence its creatures typically knew. You could feel Mizu pushing you, blocking attacks at the last second, feet dragging through the moss and grass as you tried to find a better position. Mizu didn’t let up.

You moved, focused on Mizu’s strikes, and felt your foot suddenly slip on the river’s edge, sending you crashing unceremoniously into the waist-deep water with a screech. It was too fast for Mizu to grab you despite reaching for you and calling your name.

“SHIT,” you shouted after you broke the surface of the river.

Mizu’s eyes were wide, grimacing, but it looked like she was fighting a laugh. You glared at her and rose to your feet with as much grace as possible. Mizu bit her lip to suppress a bubble of laughter before she extended a hand for you to grab.

“Well, this is a good reminder for another lesson,” she said as you took her hand. “Be aware of your surroundings.”

Your jaw clenched and, instead of allowing her to assist you back onto the grass, you narrowed your eyes, sank your fit into the river's sediment, and tugged. Surprise crossed Mizu’s face as she took in your smirk and tried not to fall in but, this time, you’d been the one to catch her unawares.

Mizu hit the water roughly and caused an enormous splash that had you caught in the crossfire, a wave of the cool liquid hitting your side; it was worth it.

“You… little…” Mizu said. The laughter you’d been trying to fight off yourself finally erupted, earning your teacher a glare.

“This is your lesson,” you said while catching your breath. “Never underestimate your opponent.”

Mizu didn’t say anything, blue eyes behind her shades locked onto your face. You weren’t sure what to make of it, feeling a heat rising in your cheeks under her gaze.

“What?” you asked, convinced she was actually upset with you. Then, to your dismay, she started to move toward you in the water, and, instinctively, you moved back. She continued her advance and just as your hand touched the bank, she closed the distance and pressed her body completely against yours. Your hands moved up her shoulders for balance. The blush you’d been building up fully bloomed, only inches separating your faces and nothing between your bodies. “Mizu?” You were a little breathless. What was happening?

She kept quiet and moved one hand to grab your wrist, pinning it to the edge of the riverbank softly. The mud painted abstract images along your skin, the grass tickled, and the water soaked deeper into your clothes with every second that ticked by. You could feel her breath on your face.

“Mizu,” you said again but softer.

Nothing again. You felt her other hand touch your hip and slowly ascend, flirting with the skin under your shirt, the side of your chest, all the way up to the base of your neck. You weren’t sure what you were expecting but you leaned back a little to allow her more access… and she took it. Her calloused fingers spread, pressing her thumb and middle finger gently into the muscles on either side.

Mizu searched your face for any protest. You provided none.

Her grip tightened around your throat, enough for you to gasp, but in no way harmful. With such a hold on you, she tilted your head to the side.

“You.” She pressed her lips to your cheek. “Are such.” Your head leaned to the side for her to place her lips on the other one. “A pain.” You tested the waters, trying to move the hand she had a grip on, only to feel her reinforce it, pressing it harder into the mud. She straightened your face to see you fully, eyes flicking between your eyes and lips. “In the ass.”

You just smiled in response. So did she.

And then she kissed you.

It was deep, slow, and rhythmic, somewhat matching the flow of the river’s path. You sighed, a small moan leaving your lips and receiving the same in return. Nothing about this day had indicated this was how it was gonna go. Nothing at all. It was everything you didn’t know you had wanted and the feeling of her fingers tightening around your throat, digging into the skin in the most delicious of ways, drove you crazy.

She allowed your hand freedom, both of which found their way around her neck as she released her grip on yours—to your mild disappointment. Instead, she grabbed under your thighs and lifted, earning a surprised sound from you, and perched you on the riverbank.

“This okay?” she asked, voice husky, her eyes peering up at you now, a clear sight over her glasses that were covered in streaks of water. You nodded. Her fingers found the top of your soaked-through sweats and gave a tug. “This?” You nodded again and lifted your hips. She hooked her fingers over the top of them, also catching your underwear, and pulled them down to your ankles, which she lifted over her head so she could be between your thighs.

You didn’t know what to say.

“Are you going to listen if I ask you to lay back? Or are you going to be a brat about that too?” she asked and positioned your thighs over her shoulders. You looked down at her, unable to find the will to sass her in this moment, and did as she asked. “Good pet.”

A feeling fluttered in your stomach at that.

Without much effort, she lifted your legs, and dove between them, devouring you so deliciously that you gasped. Her arms nestled in the creases of your pelvis and her fingers dug into the skin of your thighs so rough they might bruise. Every stroke of her tongue over you felt hungry, greedy. Water droplets slid down your sensitive skin, a cool sensation that did nothing to quell the heat radiating off of you. Your fingers dug into the grass and threatened to pull each blade up from the root.

“Shit,” you gasped. The pleasure you felt building up was intoxicating and maddening. Any gripe you had with training today faded with every single second Mizu spent between your thighs. The sound of your voice only egged her on. Had you both been hiding this desire from each other for this long? A part of you regretted it, wondered if maybe you could have gotten to this place sooner, but you didn’t get the chance to finish that thought.

Your orgasm cascaded through you, a moan so loud you accidentally startled some birds in a nearby tree. Mizu didn’t let up though, holding onto you as though you were going to float away and you held onto one of her arms like she was an anchor to this plane of existence. She tasted every bit of you, tongue simply a tool to swallow everything. She peppered soft kisses on you, before ducking back down into the river, and appearing outside the cage of your legs. You felt her hands pull at your heavy, river-soaked sweats, and tugged them up, hips lifting very briefly, until you were decent again.

The evening sunbeams danced through the treetops. You heard the splash and dripping of water as Mizu finally pulled themselves out of the river and took a seat next to you. You sat there for a moment, still coming down from your orgasm, and felt the gentle reassurance of Mizu’s hand on your knee, thumb rubbing it.

“So,” Mizu said. You looked down at her, eyes on you as she cleaned her glasses. “The practice swords are gone and we’re both soaked. Probably, best we call it for the day.” A pang of disappointment hit your chest and she must have noticed it in your face, because continued, “But… I’ve got time tonight for some extra lessons. And some dry clothes you can use.”

Mizu smirked. You smiled and hoisted yourself up just enough to grab the front of her soaked shirt. She didn’t put up a fight at all, allowing you to tug her down with you into another passionate kiss, the taste of you on her tongue.

[itstheendofthegoddamnworld]

Can you make a part 2 of your death x reader??? I loved it so much and I would love to read more💘💘

I enjoyed writing for him, so I will continue this! See this as their little 'date'! I made this one oddly sad, but hope you still like it!

Part 1 | Part 2

-

An Altercation with Death Part 2

He was late. Incredibly late.

You were not surprised though: your hopes and expectations of seeing him were dwindling. Finishing work for the rest of the afternoon was a struggle when you just had him on your mind, but also on what you had just done.

Was I being too forward? Was he just being polite?

You finished up work in the early evening, walking away from the vibrant town, up the cobbled slopes towards your secluded home. It was quaint, yet sometimes lonely.

You sighed in the cooling air, hugging yourself with your cardigan as the only source of warmth. “Of course, I overstepped, like always.”

“Buenas noches, corderito.”

You looked up, eyes darting over to the dead, wilting tree, a shadow emerging from its rotting bark, tall and imposing, the wolf appeared with red eyes gleaming.

“Lobo,” You breathed a sigh of relief, certain your heartbeat could be heard, erratically beating. “I didn’t know you were there.”

“Apologies for startling you,” he lowered his hood, his pointed ears spoking upwards, grey smoke fur standing out in the contrast of the moonlight. “I have been quite busy.”

“I can tell.” You murmured, and the realisation hit you like a ton of bricks; the height difference! You barely came up to his hip, and he stood imposing and towering.

It had come to you to realise you had been caught staring at him, noticing the way he stalked closer and closer towards you, gauging how you would react or even at all when you were caught in a daydream once again. Dios mío, think, Y/N! Think!

You coughed awkwardly, trying to find the right words and to not feel so uneasy. “So, what do you want to do?”

There was amusement and intrigue mixed in his crimson gaze. “What do you mean?”

“Well, we’re both free all evening… would you like to go and do something?”

“How about going for a meal?”

Your expression lit up, it was an indication to him that this was a great idea. “Of course! Ooh, I’ve heard of this really good tapas and patatas bravas.”

Something in his eyes lit up too; was it fascination, interest? It was uncertain. The wolf, close enough, knelt to be eye level with you, his long snout gracing your ear as he whispered lowly. “Wherever you, go, I’ll follow, chica.”

You could’ve mistaken your face had betray you: the way he whispered so huskily in your ear, the warmth of his face so close to yours, the pure power that was raw and radiating off of him. He could’ve easily pinned you down to the ground and ravaged you whole, and something about that both ignited the flight or fight mode within you.

“Okay!” You side-stepped closely away from him before he could sense your bashfulness. It was amusing for Lobo, watching you stumble away from him as he sauntered behind you.

He followed not far behind you as you led the way, back down towards town as life filled the streets in the late evening. All walks of life were situated everywhere: music filled the streets, food and smells of all flavours filled your nostrils. It gave you the best idea for everything: how would Muerte think if you got him a sweet treat?

You found the small restaurant, surprised when the waiter asked if it had been a table for one, when you looked back over behind you. “Oh no, it’s me and—” You were expecting the wolf’s looming figure to stand behind you, instead, met with the open, cooling air. “Ah, I’m waiting for someone.”

“Of course, señorita.”

The waiter directed you to a small table in the corner, forgotten and left for all to ignore, as the waiter ran off to grab two menus, you felt a warm, familiar hand press into your waist, something fuzzy and soft brush up against your side. “This is a nice table.”

“Lobo! Where did you run off to?” You scolded lightly, the two of you sitting as the waiter returned, taking your orders. It was odd: how the waiter didn’t even regsiter Muerte sitting there opposite you. Where you losing your mind? How could anyone not spot him there?

“I swear I seem strange to others.”

Muerte was sipping his drink when he met your gaze, “How so?”

“Well, that waiter looked at me like I was having a meal with an imaginary friend.” You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself. “I mean, it’s not hard to notice you. I thought it would’ve been the opposite way round.”

“Well, it’s hard not to miss a corderito like you.” He said, but there was a indiference to his words. It was as if he was never bothered by being unnoticed. How could someone like him want to be ignored? You thought, observing him.

“Do you come out often?”

“Many times, actually,” he chewed at his meal. “Though never once have I been invited on a date before.” He grinned when he said that one word, and your heart nearly collasped in your chest.

“Date—where did you-”

“You said to that cabra idiota yourself, you were seeing someone, hmm?”

You buried your face in your hands, trying your best not to scream in embarassment. If the earth could swallow you whole, it would’ve done so by now, but no, you were faced with the teasing of a wolf who enjoyed it clearly.

Would you have called it date? Or was he just teasing? “I—It was never discussed, I just thought-”

“Oh, so you didn’t want to go for one?” He smirked.

“Yes! I mean no! Ah, you’re making this difficult for me.” Your fur felt hot on your face, and when you heard the light, easy-going chuckle come from in front of you, you couldn’t help but think he was just doing it to annoy you.

“Ah you’re really cute when you get flustered.” He sighed, continuing on as if he hadn’t put that compliment out there in the open. He finished his meal and you gave the rest of yours for him to finish (it was hard to when you remained flustered for the rest of your ‘date’).

The two of you paid and left with few words spoken, except your mind was whirred and spinning with all sorts of questions. The less you spoke and the minutes ticked by, the more you panicked.

“Hey, I’m sorry for making it this-“ You turned on your heel as you kept walking, clumsily your foot got caught on a broken cobble piece, stumbling forwards so quickly, you didn’t have any time to register that your body was falling too fast.

The ground was what you expected to meet, and when you braced for the hard earth, you didn’t expect to be enveloped in the warm and soft arms. A smell of cedar and pine surrounded you gently, arms catching you with ease.

“Falling for me, huh, corderito?”

You blinked, warmth spreading through you, heart racing in the cage of your chest. No way did you catch you. It was only until it dawned on you that your feet weren’t touching the ground, you found yourself eye to eye level with Muerte.

“Ah,” you looked away from him, trying not to look directly in his teasing gaze, his bloodshot eyes were vivid and glowing, “I wasn’t expecting that to happen.”

Muerte didn’t seem bothered by the clumsiness that came from you, rather there was amusement in the way he held you. “Careful now, you may fall into the arms of the wrong guy.”

“Why, you worried I’ll jump into some bad guy’s arms?” You were the one to inquire teasingingly. Muerte met your gaze, and that alone had made you shudder. He didn’t need to lean that far into your face, inches from you. “Puede atraer a las personas equivocadas.”

It took everything in your body not to surge forward and kiss him: the way he was so close and inviting. The silence could’ve been broken with a pin dropping, neither of you speaking yet only staring for some time. With some relcutance, he settled you back down, and you almost realised how badly you missed the way he held you.

“Come now, let’s get you back home.”

-

The walk back up the hill was silent yet not as awkward as you thought it would be. The air was filled with the growing sounds of music, growing quieter the further you left the town. When you looked across the town, it was tiny in comparison to how it felt being surrounded down there; you felt like a giant, looking over tiny ants.

“It’s peaceful, isn’t it?” You asked Lobo after some time.

“It is, but wouldn’t you grow restless after some time up here, alone?” His voice dragged the last word out. It was like a hush or murmur of the wind, starlting and haunting, yet his presence alone made you feel surprisingly safe.

“I’ve been up here for quite some time. And though, I’m jealous of my friends who live directly there, I don’t think I could ever be down there, all the time.” You laughed to yourself, hugging your smaller body.

Lobo hummed in thought, moving ahead as if he knew the way back to yours. “It is something I would rather agree on.”

Neither of you said anything again as he led, but you had time to think about what he said. Was he lonely? How could he be—it wasn’t as if you knew what his personal life was before the two of you met, but it was a curisity you held the more you were with him.

“Do you ever get lonely?”

He paused in movement, and you observed the way his long ear twitched, unaffected by the chill of the night. “Sometimes,” he drawled thoughtfully. “I think I’ve grown used to being ignored, only for a time.”

“How so?”

“I wander these lands, watching. It is rather what I would say my job is in this world, and I’ve been doing it for some time. I watch, observe those, watch them live their lives; get married, have kin, have their highs and lows in life, and when it begins to draw to an end, I come in, give them a hand and we move on.” He spoke matter-of-factly. “Though, I do get a thrill in those who don’t spend their life well. It’s quite fun to get a change once in a while.”

“Lobo,” you spoke carefully. “When you said your name was Muerte, you weren’t joking-“

“I am Death, yes.” He spoke coolly, the flickering of his cape came up for a moment, and something silver glinted on the side of his thigh, disappearing before you could even register what it was. “I come and go when it’s time for being to move on, and I’ll do the same with you.”

You felt rigid in your spot, looking up at him in both horror and twisted curiousity. “Do you know when my time will come? It’s… not tonight, is it?”

“No,” his was a odd sense of reassurance, “You will live a good, long life, I know that.” He knelt down to you, approaching you as if you were an injured animal. “I have enjoyed this one night of a break, and I enjoyed it with you.” He was kind and careful to press a chaste kiss to your forehead, standing back to his full height once more. “We will meet again, sometime, Y/N.”

“Yes.” You didn’t understand his words at first, too hopeful, too joyful to see him, and when you blinked he was gone once more.

No, it wasn’t a hopeful expectation you would see him soon, it was a see you again when your time comes.

[aughby]

The Balcony Chronicles

It was nice being in a high-rise condominium with stunning views, a peaceful environment, and, as you realized later on, an interesting neighbor, Yuki Ishikawa. Yes, the Yuki Ishikawa we were talking about is the 28-year-old Japanese player who displayed a fierce look throughout his volleyball matches. On court, he is quite a serious player, but at home, he is a young kid trapped in a man’s body.

One night, you went to the balcony to watch the sunset, and you saw such an oddity. Having heard sounds of music coming from the adjacent unit, curiosity got the better of you, and you hanged half over the railing. And there was Yuki, dancing joyfully and very actively without paying attention to anyone around him. The guy was goofy and playful, which was quite a contrast from the smooth-moving athlete everyone had seen.

You stifled a laugh, and, unable to turn your head away, found yourself observing. Yuki was absolutely lost in his own world—he twirled and, at one point, made what I sincerely hoped was an attempt at break dancing. Just as you were about to take out your phone to record this great opportunity, he suddenly turned around and noticed you.

Within the blink of an eye, Yuki stood still. He was shocked and embarrassed. He quickly stood up as if nothing had happened to his body or to his breathing. He just gave a very rigid bow before going back into his place; you are left outside watching him with a breath torn between laughing and catching it.

As days passed, you began to see more of Yuki peculiarities, which you really never saw before. Sometimes it was possible to hear him singing, very loud and mostly tuneless, in his apartment. One time, it was a love ballad, thereby making him sing with the intensity of a pop star, all the way to the roof.

But the moment he laid his eyes on you up there on the balcony, he would immediately stop and then try to choke on his spit.

One evening you joked to make an attempt and open the conversation. “Great dancing skills, Yuki,” you said jokingly from my balcony, looking at him.

Yuki, who was about to water some plants, nearly let go of the watering can. “What on earth are you talking about? ”You replied quickly, attempting to do the ‘cool’ face.

“Oh really? ”You said with a laugh, “Are you sure you don't? "“Well, I might just have to share with your fans about some secret dance moves you do.”

Yuki’s face turned red. “You wouldn’t dare,” he growled, scowling at you while clearly recognizing embarrassment and amusement.

“Oh, but I would,” I said, “Unless... ”You paused and crossed your arms on the railing and rested your chin on your hands with an expression of wickedness on your face.

“Unless…? ”He scowled, rising from the chair.

“Unless you invite me to your next dance lesson, you know, a private show for the number one spectator. ”Yuki looked at you, and after a few seconds of silence, started to chuckle. It was somewhat unusual to find him in that state of mind: relaxed, happy, and free. “You’re impossible,” he said, laughing and then shaking his head. ”But sure. Whatever you want. Just don’t tell anyone, all right? ”

“No one will know it from me,” you reassured the other person.

From that day on, your evenings were spent sharing giggles, chatting, and competing in the quite stupid and juvenile dance battles. Although Yuki would initially look stern when he first saw you, he would soon scrunch up his face and make funny gestures, then ask you to play his crazy game.

You began to look forward to some moments where the normally stern Yuki would just sit back and enjoy himself. And in return, you never mentioned his outrageous behavior to anyone; you liked having this little secret that only you knew about.

There was once a night when you both decided to stay on the balconies, and while gazing at the night sky, Yuki turned to look at you with deep concentration. ‘Well, you know, despite all that, I’ve never let anybody get a glimpse of this part of me.’

“Why not? ”You asked me with that uncanny perplexed look on your face, which I found curious and amusing at the same time.

“I have always felt I needed to be in serous mode, but with you, I don’t know how it is, but it feels so relaxed.”

You smiled; you felt something warm in the middle of your chest. "Yeah, I enjoyed him too. Yes, he was so fun.”

Yuki grinned. “I am happy. But I'm telling you, if you disclose the information to anybody... ”

“No worry, Yuki, I won’t tell anyone about this, “you said, joking as you patted her on the back.

Your special kind of friendship ensued, and Yuki’s unusual personality was the sole way your friendship grew stronger day by day. In the world's view, he continued to be the indifferent, hardworking volleyball player. However, to you, he was much more than that; he was the man-child that loved novelty, the fun-loving man next door that one could wish for.

Yuki's POV

The latter days, or at least the period when you two met, something of you had slightly changed in Yuki’s eyes. During the day, you were quite cheerful and lively, always ready to laugh, even if it’s just to crack a joke. However, as evening came and you went to your balcony along with Yuki, you could feel some sadness in your tone, a certain weight in your eyes, which you tried to mask with a positive disposition.

It took one relatively calm night when Yuki started to realize what was actually happening. He always found himself coming out on the balcony to have a glimpse of you or how you are doing today, but that night, he saw you sitting on the corner of the balcony, bending your knees and pulling them to your chest, and gazing aimlessly at the horizon.

Yuki hesitated, unsure whether to say something. He didn’t want to intrude, but something about the way you were sitting—so still, unlike your usual self—made his chest tighten with concern.

“Hey,” he finally called out softly, not wanting to startle you. “Everything okay? ”

You didn’t respond right away. For a moment, Yuki thought you hadn’t heard him. But then you turned your head slowly, giving him a small, tired smile that didn’t reach your eyes.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

But Yuki wasn’t convinced. He had seen that look before, in himself during his toughest times on the court, in teammates who were struggling but didn’t want to show it. It was the look of someone trying to keep it together when everything inside was falling apart.

“Are you sure? ”He pressed gently, leaning against the railing, trying to catch your gaze. “You don’t look fine.”

You let out a shaky breath and shrugged, your shoulders slumping in defeat. “I guess I’m not very good at hiding it anymore, huh? ”

Yuki’s heart clenched at the vulnerability in your voice. This wasn’t the cheerful, teasing person he had come to know. This was someone who was hurting, and he couldn’t just stand by and do nothing.

“Do you want to talk about it?”He asked, his tone softer than usual, filled with a concern he didn’t often show.

For a moment, you were silent, as if weighing your options. Then you began to speak, haltingly at first, but then the words started to flow. You told him about how you had always been the “happy one,” the person everyone relied on to bring a smile to their face. But as night fell, when the world was quiet, you were left alone with your thoughts, and the weight of your own struggles would bear down on you. You spoke of the loneliness, the self-doubt, the fear that you weren’t good enough—that no one really saw the real you, the one hiding behind the cheerful facade.

Yuki listened quietly, his chest aching with every word you said. He had never seen this side of you before, and it broke his heart to know that you had been carrying this burden alone.

“I had no idea,” Yuki said softly when you finished, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m so sorry you’ve been going through this.”

You looked up at him, tears brimming in your eyes. “I didn’t want anyone to know. I didn’t want to be a burden.”

Yuki shook his head, his expression earnest. “You’re not a burden; you don’t have to go through this alone. I’m here for you, okay? Anytime you need someone to talk to, or even if you just need someone to sit with you, I’m here.”

For the first time that evening, a genuine smile touched your lips, though it was small and fragile. “Thank you, Yuki. That means a lot.”

From that night on, things changed between you and Yuki. He became more attuned to your moods and more present during your evening chats. He always made an effort to check on you, asking how you were doing. And in return, you began to open up more, sharing the parts of yourself that you had kept hidden for so long.

Yuki found himself becoming more protective of you, more determined to be there for you in the way you had been for him. He admired your strength and your resilience, but he also wanted you to know that it was okay to lean on someone else—to lean on him.

And as the days turned into weeks and weeks into months, the two of you grew closer. Yuki discovered that supporting you through your struggles made him feel more connected to you than ever. It wasn’t just about the fun, lighthearted moments anymore; it was about being there for each other through the highs and the lows.

One evening, as you both sat on your balconies, Yuki looked over at you and said, “You know, you’re not the only one with secrets.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? What else are you hiding, Mr. Serious Athletic? ”

Yuki chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. “Well, for one, I never told anyone how much I enjoy these silly dance sessions. Or how much I’ve come to appreciate our little balcony chats.”

“I won’t tell if you won’t,” you teased, though your smile was softer this time, more sincere.

“Deal,” Yuki agreed, holding out his pinky finger towards you.

You laughed, leaning over to hook your pinky with his, sealing the promise.

In that moment, Yuki realized just how much you had come to mean to him. You were more than just a neighbor, more than just a friend. You were someone he cared about deeply, someone he wanted to protect and support, no matter what.

And though he didn’t say it out loud, Yuki made a silent vow to himself that night: he would be there for you, always. No matter how tough things got, no matter how dark the nights became, you wouldn’t have to face it alone.

Because sometimes even the strongest people needed someone to lean on. And Yuki was determined to be that person for you.

Weeks had passed since that night when you opened up to Yuki about your struggles. Since then, your bond has grown stronger, deepening beyond the playful exchanges and shared secrets. The balcony had become your shared sanctuary—a place where walls came down and genuine connection flourished.

Yuki found himself looking forward to your evening chats more than ever. His days were often packed with rigorous training and high-stakes matches, but the thought of unwinding on the balcony with you kept him going. There was a warmth and comfort in your presence that he hadn't realized he craved.

One Friday evening, after a particularly grueling week, Yuki stepped out onto his balcony carrying two steaming mugs of hot chocolate. He glanced over at your side, a smile tugging at his lips as he saw you already there, bundled up in a cozy sweater, gazing up at the stars.

"Rough day?" you asked, noticing the tired lines etched on his face.

"You could say that," Yuki replied, offering one of the mugs over the railing. "Thought you could use this."

Your eyes lit up as you accepted the warm drink, your fingers brushing against his momentarily, sending a subtle spark through both of you.

"Look at you, being all thoughtful," you teased, taking a sip. The rich, sweet flavor warmed you from the inside out. "Mmm, this is perfect. Thanks, Yuki."

He smiled softly, leaning against the railing as he took a sip from his own mug. The night was crisp, and the city lights below twinkled like fallen stars.

A comfortable silence settled between you, both of you simply enjoying the peaceful moment. After a while, Yuki spoke up, his voice quiet.

"You know, I don't think I've ever been this comfortable with anyone before."

You glanced over at him, surprised by the sincerity in his tone. "Really? Not even with your teammates?"

He chuckled, shaking his head. "They're great, but it's different. With you, I feel like I can be myself—all parts of myself. The serious athlete, the goofy dancer, everything."

Your cheeks warmed, and it wasn't just from the hot chocolate. "Well, I like all versions of you. Makes life more interesting."

Yuki's gaze lingered on you, his eyes reflecting the soft glow of the city lights. There was something different in the way he was looking at you tonight—something deeper.

"I feel the same about you," he said softly. "You're always so full of life and positivity. Even when things are tough, you find a way to smile through it."

You looked down at your mug, swirling the liquid inside to avoid his piercing gaze. "It's easier when you have someone to share it with."

Another silence fell, this one charged with unspoken emotions. Yuki felt his heart beat a little faster, a realization slowly dawning on him. These feelings—this warmth, this yearning—it was more than just friendship.

He cleared his throat, attempting to steady his nerves. "Hey, I was thinking... there's this new exhibit at the art museum downtown. Would you maybe want to check it out with me tomorrow? I mean, if you're free."

You looked up, surprised but pleased by the invitation. "Are you asking me out on a date, Yuki Ishikawa?"

He hesitated for a split second before responding, a playful glint in his eyes. "Well, that depends. Would you say yes if I was?"

A smile spread across your face, your eyes dancing with mirth. "I suppose I might be persuaded."

Yuki grinned, feeling a surge of excitement and relief. "Then yes, I'm asking you out on a date."

"Then yes, I'd love to go," you replied, your smile matching his.

The next day, Yuki found himself more nervous than he had been before any championship game. He dressed carefully, opting for a casual yet stylish look, and even took extra time to make sure his hair was just right. When he met you in the lobby, his breath caught in his throat. You looked stunning, your eyes bright, and a hint of nervousness mirroring his own.

The museum was bustling with people, but to Yuki, it felt like it was just the two of you. You wandered through the exhibits, discussing the art pieces, sharing jokes, and learning more about each other with every step.

At one point, you both stopped in front of a large painting depicting a serene landscape. The soft hues and tranquil scene seemed to envelop you in a bubble of calm.

"This one's beautiful," you murmured, your eyes fixed on the canvas.

"Yeah," Yuki agreed, though his gaze had shifted to you. "It really is."

You turned to find him looking at you, his expression tender and open. The air between you grew thick with anticipation, and for a moment, the world around you faded away.

Before either of you could second-guess it, Yuki leaned in slowly, giving you plenty of time to pull away if you wanted. But you didn't. You tilted your head up, meeting him halfway as your lips brushed softly against each other.

The kiss was gentle, sweet, and filled with unspoken promises. When you pulled apart, both of you were smiling, cheeks flushed, and hearts pounding.

"I've been wanting to do that for a while," Yuki confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Me too," you admitted, your eyes shining with happiness.

The rest of the day was a blur of laughter, stolen glances, and subtle touches. By the time you returned to your building, it was clear that something had shifted between you two. The friendship and camaraderie were still there, but now they were intertwined with a blossoming romance that felt as natural as breathing.

As you stood outside your respective doors, Yuki hesitated before speaking. "So, does this mean you'll stop threatening to expose my secret dance moves?"

You laughed, the sound making his heart soar. "Hmm, I think I might still hold that over your head. Keeps things interesting."

He chuckled, stepping closer and taking your hand in his. "I can live with that, as long as I get to take you out again."

"I'd like that," you replied, squeezing his hand gently.

From that day on, your evenings on the balcony took on a new dimension. There were still the playful dance-offs and shared stories, but now there were also soft kisses under the stars, whispered confessions, and the comforting presence of knowing you had someone to share both your joys and your struggles with.

Yuki found that being with you brought a balance to his life that he hadn't known he needed. You grounded him, made him laugh, and reminded him to enjoy the little moments amidst the chaos of his career. And in turn, he was there for you, offering support and love through both the light and dark times.

One night, as you cuddled together on his balcony, wrapped in a warm blanket and watching the city lights twinkle below, Yuki pressed a kiss to your forehead and murmured, "You make me incredibly happy, you know that?"

You looked up at him with your eyes filled with affection. "And you make me feel like I'm not alone anymore."

He smiled, pulling you closer. "You're not. We're in this together."

As the night enveloped you both, the sounds of the city fading into the background, you realized that sometimes the most unexpected connections could lead to the most beautiful love stories. And all it took was a shared balcony, a few secret dance moves, and the courage to let each other in.

[stars4heaven]

˚｡⋆୨୧˚BAKE MY LOVE˚୨୧⋆｡˚

“Would you like to go on a date with me sir?” ・❥・fluff

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

As the morning sun beamed through the window panels of the small bakery, you patiently waited for one male to walk through those glass doors. Constantly turning your head with whimsy whenever the bells jingled, only to be let down by the sight of someone else coming in.

You were getting tired of playing this waiting game; having to check yourself in the bathroom mirror each time you’re on break, or when you sneak your phone from your pocket when the manager isn’t looking.

All you did was sigh as you handed the customer their croissants and coffee, taking the cash in return and storing it away in the register.

Closing your eyes in pure irritation, you threw your head down; your {H/C} strands covering your face.

“Uh excuse me?”

Your heart sank to the bottom of your stomach like the titanic.

Briskly, you lift up your head; trying to keep it casually and play it off cool as you messily struggle to fix your {H/T} hair.

“Shit- Hello, welcome, uh, what- what can you get for you-I mean I, what can I get for you?”

You felt your face heat up as your co worker in the back giggled at your stupidity. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you fought back the impulsive thoughts telling you to run out and never come back again. This was the man you’ve been waiting for. The one you always look forward to seeing whenever you’re working.

Ever since you first started working here, you’ve been seeing him come at 10;00-10;30 ish AM. Sometimes with a friend or more but he’s usually alone. His brown skin shimmered with the sun’s rays, his accent was like music to your ears, you could listen to him talk all day, not to mention the way he's so polite.

And that’s not even all of it.

His jet black hair looked so soft and shiny; you could tell he takes very good care of it. Same thing with his face; his face was always so clean and spotless- not one sign of acne. Ugh, and then his body; he was perfect- straight out of a bookworm’s wet dreams. You didn’t wanna believe it, but you fell in love with his man. This stranger that you know nothing about except for the pastry he orders all the time.

“May I get 1 cinnamon roll, and a cappuccino?”

You nodded, feeling a smile creep onto your face as you grabbed the brown paper napkins and picked up the cinnamon sweet and put it gently into the small dark brown takeout box, all while the feeling of love exploded in your stomach. Moving onto making his coffee, you peeked behind you, admiring him on his phone with a straight face before looking away in fear of making awkward eye contact.

“Here you go sir!”

You smiled wider, showing your pearly teeth.

He looked up from his device, putting it in his sweatpant’s pocket with one hand and grabbing his order with the other before taking the money out of his wallet and handing it to you.

You clenched the money in your hands as you stared at the register. It was common for you to do this. You would pause whenever he gave you the money as if he was doing it out of an act of kindness. Then, you watch him walk out the door, leaving nothing but the sound of the bells jingling in your ears. But not this time.

As you gripped onto the money tighter, you looked up at him, seeing him start to fade away.

“EXCUSE ME SIR!” you called out, catching his attention. He turned his head to you.

“Yeah?”

You froze up again. Your breathing got heavy and you fought back your tears, in which you failed. Your voice got shaky as the money began to get sweaty from you gripping it.

“Would…”

You looked down, avoiding eye contact.

“...Would you uh, go out on a date with me?”

His face changed from neutral to a slightly surprised expression.

You fucked up, didn’t you?

You felt your happiness pop instantly, and you haven’t even heard his answer yet! What if he had a girlfriend? Or boyfriend? What if he wasn’t even interested in dating at all? What if he had 3 kids at home and a loving wife? What if he says no and doesn’t come back ever again?

The cafe was so silent that it was screaming at you. Tears begin to drip down your face as your hair saves you from making the situation more embarrassing.

“Uh…”

You struggled to mentally prepare yourself for his reply.

“...Um…”

That’s it! You can’t show your face back here ever again!

“...Sure, you seem nice.”

You gasped, almost choking on air as you quickly lifted up your head, not even bothering to fix your hair this time.

“A-Alright, uhm… What’s your phone number..?”

“I’ll write it down for you.”

Your heart thumped in your chest as you eyed how his muscular hands wrote down the numbers on a brown napkin with a dark blue pen; the beautiful strokes and edges of each number was heavenly.

When he was finished, he slid it to you before smiling slightly. Your eyes dropped down to the brown napkin, then back up to the jingle of the bells as he exited the cafe.

You did it. You finally did it. You finally asked him out.

“Yo, {Y/N}”

You jolted, swiftly whipping your head towards your co-worker.

His shiteating grin and freckles paired with his beach blonde curls matched his annoying personality.

“You’re crushing the money.”

Aww shit, you forgot about the money. You set the dollar bills free from your grip as you try to iron it out with the palm of your hands before putting it into the register.

You prayed for the day to be over quicker so you could go home and text the love of your life already.

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

And so as the night came, you clocked out and walked through the glass doors, the musical jingles wishing you well as you locked up and headed to your car.

Pulling out your phone to connect the bluetooth and blast your favorite playlist to get you hyped for your upcoming date as you ride home with your {H/C} {H/T} hair flowing with the cold wind through the car door window.

Pulling into the driveway of your apartment building, you disconnect your bluetooth and collect your belongings. Getting out of the car, you take your keys from your bag and unlock your house door, taking in the comforting smell of your home.

Shutting your door behind yourself, you lean against it; pulling out your phone and tapping on your contacts app. You didn’t even need to take out the napkin to see his phone number, you made sure to keep it engraved in your brain.

After saving his phone number in your contacts list, you struggled to come up with a name. You bit your lip as your frows scrunched together. You didn’t even ask him his name. How stupid of you. You soon let your impulsive thoughts take over once again and set his name as “Boyfriend” with 12 different heart emojis.

Hey, it's the person from the cafe.

You stared at the send button. What if he didn’t remember you? What if he didn’t wanna go and only said yes to save you from embarrassment? All these thoughts raced through your head. But, you made it this far so might as well. There’s no going back now.

You closed your eyes, sending the message and quickly turning your phone off. You threw your head back against the door until you waited for a reply. But, that didn’t last for long. As you waited and waited, you watched the time go by. Your phone finally buzzing at 8;09 PM.

You curse loudly at your phone as you struggle to put in your 4 numbered password; messing up so much it is almost locked for 2 minutes. You smile at the reply, reading the text being;

Hey, sorry I replied late. I was at the gym then I had to take my dog out for a walk.

Your heart fluttered in your chest as your imagination went wild thinking about him working out. And he liked animals too? Oh yeah, he can get it. You slid from your door to your knees; criss crossing your legs as your mind became invested in the conversation.

It’s fine! Are you still free for the date? There’s this place that has good reviews. It’s popular for having different varieties of food from different cultures.

Yeah, I am. I was gonna get ready now. What address is the place?

You couldn’t contain how happy you were. You told him the address and the restaurant name before rushing to the bathroom;

You sang in the shower, did your skincare again, fixed up your hair, and put on your fanciest outfit.

This was it. You were really gonna go on a date with the man you’ve been crushing on for months.

It was just up to you to make this the best night of his life.

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

You began to grow frantic as you fiddled with your hands underneath the table. Did you come too early? What if he canceled and just didn’t wanna text you? What if he changed his mind? Did he even wanna come? You sigh as you lay your head down on the table, flinching when the screech of the chair being pulled back rang in your ears like an alarm clock. Lifting your head, you quickly fix yourself, smiling at the brown skinned male who sat down in front of you.

His beautiful dark eyes were the cherry on top. He truly was perfect- Heavensent. You wanted to swim in his eyes and never get out. A tint of pink was smothered on your face as you sneakily observed the suit he was wearing; it was black and nicely put. That color really looked good on him.

“You look really nice!” you blurted out, trying not to stare too much into his soul.

Red appeared on his face, looking a bit to the left with a stutter.

“Thanks…you too.”

“I’m {Y/N} {L/N}, but people just call me {N/N} for short!”

“I’m Ganji Gupta.”

You could feel your smile get bigger as you watched him look through the menu.

“That’s pretty.”

He looked up at you in slight confusion.

“Huh?”

You frowned. Your eyes shot back in fear of making him uncomfortable.

“Y-Your name! it’s…pretty…I like it.”

His expression softened back to his neutral one, but he seemed embarrassed. His arm rested on the back of his neck as he avoided eye contact again.

“Oh…Thanks..”

It was a few minutes of awkward silence before it was interrupted by the waiter. Your heart shriveled up like a ruined piece of paper when you saw who was serving you tonight. You locked eyes with the brown and white haired female. The smirk on her face makes you more anxious than you already were. Her gold hoop earrings making itself known as her green eyes continued to lay dominance. She looked over at Ganji as he was ready to order.

Meanwhile, you just sat there. It’s not that you didn’t trust her, you did. You've been friends with her since highschool! You’re just jealous- if that's the word for it. Her curvy body has always made your love interests go for her; She would turn them down and call them whores. And you respect her for that. You just hope Ganji isn’t the same.

“And for you?” She mocked with a smile, holding in her small giggles.

“I’ll have the-”

“Got it! It’ll be out in 30 minutes, any drinks for now?”

Sweat raced down your forehead as you nervously looked at Ganji, who looked at you very confused. Biting your lip, you gripped her on the arm before staring her down. Her red lips curved into a more sinister grin. She was up to no good.

“Well, I already know what drink you want,”

She looked at your date.

“What would you like to drink tonight?”

Still confused, Ganji took a few seconds to reply.

“Uh…Just water please…”

She nodded, writing down everything on the small notebook attached to the brown woody clipboard before walking away.

“Do you, know her?’’

“Yeah, she’s my friend…I didn’t know she worked here.”

He nodded. You wanted to crawl into a corner and disappear. You knew Demi meant no harm but, this is kinda harming you right now! You were surprised that he didn’t walk out after that. Moving on to a different topic, you remember the short conversation you had with him on the phone.

“So, how's the dog?”

You noticed how he played with the end of the lace table coverings to keep himself occupied. His dark eyes moved to your gaze.

“He’s good.”

He wasn’t very talkative. I mean- you didn’t mind it, you just expected him to be a yapper. But to be fair, you guys don’t know each other all that well. {Y/N} maybe think things through before you commit to it? Sorry, that was mean. Anyways, as the minutes went by, you started to see him open up more and more; he made eye contact more and shared his childhood moments and stuff that you found to be relatable in a way. You were in love with how he was so happy to explain stuff about his culture, like the food, holidays. You could see his eyes light up like the stars in the sky the more you asked about it.

The butterflies in your stomach continued to flutter around. This was what you dreamt about. Going on a date with the stranger you grew a crush on for months in the cafe and getting to know him more. He was a good listener as well. Your childhood wasn’t as exciting as his, but he still treated it as if it was the best stories he ever heard. And when you opened up about your culture, he was so in love. You swear you saw his pupils shape into hearts.

“Here you go.”

The mood was interrupted once more by Demi handing you two your food and drinks.

“Anything else I can do for ya lovebirds?” She teased, throwing you a wink.

“N-No…That’s all, thank you!”

She nodded, rustling your hair before patting you on the back.

“Alright, you two have fun now.” She chirped before walking away. You sighed but didn’t let the embarrassment ruin this special moment for you.

As you guys ate, you couldn’t stop talking to each other. You even choked on your food at one point which scared the life out of Him, but laughed about it afterwards. After the main course, you decided to get dessert just to make the date last longer; He ordered the lava cake that came with a side of vanilla ice cream with a dollop of whipped cream and a cherry on top of it and you ordered “your favorite '' according to Demi.

Soon, the check came and he offered to pay. You felt bad so you insisted that you guys could split it. But no, him being the gentlemen that his mother raised him to be, he ended up paying for the whole thing. Shit, he even gave a 20$ tip! Oh yeah, you gotta marry him for that one.

When exiting the restaurant, you felt the nervousness creep up on you again. You fiddled with your hands as he rested his hand on the back of his neck. You didn’t want this night to end. You wanted him to come home with you and cuddle.

“I had fun, we should do this again.” He said, blushing.

You nodded.

“Yeah! Totally! Uh…”

You wanted to kiss him. That’s too soon, isn’t it? How would he feel if you did? Would he hate you? Would he find you weird? I mean, you are pretty weird, you’re reading a fanfic. Okay sorry, that was mean.

But hey, fuck it we ball am I right? Don’t answer that, I know I am.

“This might be weird and I’m sorry if it is but…”

You inched closer to him; hearing his heartbeat in his chest. Your noses had little to no space between each other and your eyes were locked in together.

“Can…Can we kiss?”

You fucked up, huh? Your hands started to sweat again, and it was so cold out you thought it was snowing. He was taken aback by the request, obviously not expecting this on the first date. But, you did peak his interest tonight, and to be fair he did pay like 500$ for the dinner and dessert , plus 20$ for the tip.

“Sure…”

He was red. You caressed his cheek and shut your eyes, melting into his soft lips. Seriously, what skincare routine does this guy have?

You could feel yourself lose yourself and your dignity as he held your waist. You almost forgot you were in public for a minute. Pulling away, you both open your eyes.

“Do… Do you wanna come home with me?” He asked, mind blown by how much of a good kisser you are. You smiled.

“I would love to.”

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ BAKE MY LOVE - END ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

[prettybrownelf]

(Goth anon) Ok ok, so, bit of a negative one but my headcanon is that Hydra probably pumped Bucky with enough drugs to make him incapable of getting hard during his time as the WS, so once he's free and recovering, poor guy is dealing with a case of erectile dysfunction. So the piercing thing is basically "Hydra broke my dick, so I'm reclaiming it by getting it pierced" (I personally have a preference for frenum piercings 👀). Kinda why I like to headcanon him as a bottom too, since prostate stimulation is good for ED. Just, Bucky having a complicated relationship with his own body and sexuality and finding ways to reclaim them without it being a Perfect Sex Life is very dear to me :)

a/n- this was so fun to write, i hope you enjoy!

The Record Store Clerk

Non MLM/NBLM DNI

Pairings- Punk! Bucky Barnes x Punk! Male! Reader

Summary- Bucky has fallen in love with the clerk at the local record store, admiring his self expression, and decides to try some self expression for himself

Word Count- 1574

Content Warnings- Praise, Erectile Dysfunction, Genital Piercings, Bottom Bucky, Top Reader, Bucky Is Insecure, Aftercare, Rough Sex

Bucky doesn't own a record player, he never has. 

Yet every day, he finds himself in a cramped record store just to talk to you, though this time it's a bit different. 

The last conversation he had with you was a month ago, which was much longer than he had hoped. 

“Why are you so interested in my piercings today?” You asked, smiling brightly as you played with the cigarette in your hand. Bucky fails to hide the cheesy grin forming on his face. “I was used as a super soldier for seventy years (Y/n), this is all new to me! Why do you think I like hearing about the music you find so much?” You nearly choke on cigarette smoke as you chuckle at him. “I thought you were gonna pass out the first time you heard ‘Fear of The Dark.” Bucky rolls his eyes as he relaxes into the brick behind him. “Can I go back to asking about the metal in your face now?” You nod as you take another drag. “Why do you have them? I mean, I understand they look cool, but is there some sort of point to you having them?” 

It takes you a moment for you to answer. “I think of them as a form of self-reclaiming. I was always told how to be when I was growing up, ya know? I couldn't be gay, I couldn't dress the way I wanted, and I couldn't listen to what I wanted. When I was finally on my own I decided I would do anything to express myself, which just so happened to include getting a shit ton of piercings, tattoos, and wearing only black.” 

Your words echoed in Bucky's mind as he immediately ran to a piercing shop after your conversation. He struggled to google piercings till he finally found the right one, a piercing for self-reclamation. 

And now here he is, trying to keep his breathing in check as he walks up to the counter. Your normal smiling face greets him, dark makeup on your face as usual. “Hey, Buck! What's up? It's been forever since I saw you.” “I know, sorry about that, I was recovering.” Worry immediately pants your face. “Recovering? From what?” Bucky gives a playful grin. “A piercing.” The worry on your face is immediately taken over by a child-like glee. “A piercing? Where?” Bucky gives a small point downwards as you nearly choke. “Buck! Your first piercing? There? Why?” “It's not exactly the most safe-for-work explanation. Maybe we can talk about it tonight?” 

“My my, are you asking me on a date?” A blush forms on Bucky's face as he tries to keep himself together. “Not exactly a full-on date, just a night together at my apartment.” Bucky watches you throw your head behind yourself to look at the clock. “I get off in fifteen.” Bucky nods as he leaves, waiting outside as he desperately tries to calm his nerves. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Time moves faster than Bucky realizes when he notices he's opening the front door of his apartment. Your presence behind him does nothing to calm his nerves as he opens the door, praying all the cleaning he had done that morning was enough. 

“Wow, you really are getting into the new century huh?” You laugh as you look around at Bucky's apartment. To you, it looked like the bedroom of a fourteen-year-old boy who's constantly discovering new things he's interested in, but to Bucky, it just symbolizes his entrance into this new, exciting century. “Don't make fun of me, this world is brand new to me.” The adorable smile on your face melts Bucky into a puddle as you turn to look at him. “Bucky, I would never make fun of you.” 

Your eyes gaze around till they finally land on the bedroom door. “Buck, did you invite me here to talk or something else?” Heat rises to Bucky's face as he gulps down the fear in his throat. “I mean I did want to tell you about my piercing, but I guess I was sorta thinking the conversation might lead to…stuff.” The way you smirk at him only builds fear inside him. You're his friend, you're not gonna make fun of him because his dick doesn't work, right?

“Well, then tell me about your piercing.” You say, leaning against the kitchen counter. Bucky takes a deep breath as he tries to calm his nerves before he speaks. “You know I'm a ‘super soldier' right? Well, to become a super soldier they would pump me full of different shit, and at some point, it sorta ruined my dick.” You raise an eyebrow at him. “Ruined your dick?” “Yeah, erectile dysfunction. I guess I was kinda worried about trying to do stuff with you because of that.” Instead of the reaction of disgust, Bucky was expecting, you simply give him the same smile he's come to love as you take his hand. “Why would I care about any of that Buck? Besides,” You pull him closer to your face as you lean over to whisper into his ear. “I'm gonna be the one on top.” Bucky can feel himself sweating against his ripped-up black jeans as he lets you lead him to his room. “Whatever you need, we can do.” Bucky nods as he watches you throw your shirt off, his eyes lingering on your nipple piercings for a bit longer than he should have. 

Although hesitant, Bucky takes his leather jacket off, being careful with the spikes on the side as he slides his shirt off. He jumps a little bit as he sees you standing in front of him. “Do you have lube? And a condom?” Bucky nods quickly as he ruffles through one of his drawers. “Here you go.” You take it with a devious grin. “Lay down, pretty boy.” Bucky immediately obeys, messing around with his belt as you climb over him. Bucky can't help the way his mind turns to mush as he watches you remove your belt, sliding your pants off and throwing them next to his own. 

Your hands are cold when they slide up Bucky's thighs, a small whine already leaving his throat as you remove your hands, pouring lube on your fingers. “You gonna be good for me, handsome?” Bucky nods feverishly, unable to get words out of his mouth. The second you stick your first finger in, Bucky doesn't feel pleasure, just the cold feeling of your skin as he desperately tries to find the feeling he's heard others talk about. As if you could read his mind, your hand slides up to his shaft, slowly stroking his cock, being careful not to touch his piercing. “Relax Bucky, take all the time you need.” Bucky allows himself to relax against the bed as you continue your motions. 

The slow pace you're moving at slowly begins to spark something in Bucky's stomach. He hesitantly begins to buck his hips along with your thrusts, earning praise from you. “There you go, pretty boy.” “(Y/n),” He moans, looking down at you through half-lidded eyes. “Yes?” He whines as he thrust into your finger. “Please fuck me.” You smirk at him as you remove your hands. “Are you sure you're ready, baby?” Bucky nods as moves his legs up to give you access to him. You happily take him by the hip with one hand as you lather your cock in lube. “I'm gonna go slow for you, then ill fuck your brains out, ok baby?” Bucky nods as you lean over him, slowly pushing into him. 

Pleasure begins to build in Bucky's body as you bottom out, groaning at the feeling of him around you. “God you feel fucking amazing.” Bucky immediately moans your name as you snap your hips, hoisting his leg over your shoulder so you can reach deeper. Bucky nearly screams as you roughly move your hips against his. “See pretty boy? You can do this.” Bucky's mind is completely blank as he feels himself getting close. You seemingly can feel him twitching as your other hand reaches down to play with his piercing. 

Bucky immediately cums, feeling it land on his lower stomach as you continue your thrusts. “Good job! You're being so good for me!” The praise travels right back down to Bucky's cock as he grips the sheets under him. The moans from you are doing nothing to stop his arousal as he desperately tries to get words out. Instead of words, you get jumbled out moans and whines and begs from Bucky as you feel yourself getting closer. Your hand immediately goes back to his cock. “You wanna cum with me, pretty boy.” Bucky nods vigorously as you try to keep yourself from falling onto him. The second you cum, Bucky does too, screaming your name as you hold your hips against his. 

As breath reenters Bucky's lungs, he doesn't even notice you going into the bathroom to get a wet rag for him. The cold feeling helps his body relax as you clean him up. Bucky stares up at the ceiling as you crawl into bed with him. Your hands find his hair, letting him cuddle up against you as you pull the blanket over your naked bodies. “You ok baby?” Bucky nods with a soft smile. “Yeah, just tired.” Your chuckle is the last thing he hears as he falls asleep in your arms.

[skeletonpunching]

Buddy Daddies interview with Ayase

Interview with Ayase (musical artist for the opening theme, SHOCK!)

Interviewer: What impression did you have of the series "Buddy Daddies", which features "SHOCK!" as its opening?

Ayase: When I first received the basic rundown of the series, I thought, "This girl's (Unasaka Miri's) level of cuteness is going to be really essential when it gets animated." And then I actually saw the footage, and Miri was absolutely adorable.

Interviewer: Did the anime production staff have any specific instructions for the composition of the song?

Ayase: They didn't really request anything specific. Just that since it's meant to be an anime opening song, they'd like something more fast-paced, rather than mellow... That was the vibe they were going for, and it was what I had in mind as well.

Interviewer: How did the worldview and atmosphere of the series inspire your ideas for the song?

Ayase: I knew that the plot of the series was the protagonists parenting, and so I wanted to use that as one of the themes of the song - the part where they confront the question of "love", and find themselves steadily changing. But in fact, this song isn't entirely about the series itself; it's connected to the series, but it addresses the themes of what I've personally experienced in life, and my feelings about the responsibility of loving others. 

Interviewer: And is that also what inspired the title "SHOCK!"...?

Ayase: When you're emotionally devastated, or when you've turned away from precious feelings like romantic love, you suddenly meet someone who has a huge influence on your mindset and your way of life. The title is connected to the anime storyline, but it also expresses that sort of tremendous effect. "SHOCK!" is meant to literally convey that impact.

Interviewer: Is there anything you were especially concerned with when creating the song?

Ayase: I'm usually part of a group called YOASOBI, where I have the role of composer - I focus exclusively on songwriting. But YOASOBI's central concept is "making novels into music", which means I'm always drawing inspiration from other people's stories and sentiments for my own writing. So I inevitably come up with a lot of songs that have strong narratives and thematic messages.

This time, I was inspired by "Buddy Daddies" as well, but since I was performing it as a solo vocalist, I wanted the phrasing of the lyrics to also reflect my own personal tastes to some extent. I was trying to make something that would be easy listening, and could be enjoyed with no constraints. But when I say "easy", I don't mean I didn't put any effort into it. What I mean is that I wanted people to enjoy it simply, and so I kept things simple and loose as well. It doesn't carry any sort of deep message - rather, it's about the fleeting doubts that surface as I go through life, the feelings I have for people who are kind to me, and the casual thoughts I have on a daily basis. I took all those things and focused on putting them into words. I couldn't have done this if I wasn't releasing it as a solo artist.

Interviewer: I guess it's different when you're performing the vocals yourself.

Ayase: I just thought, "Man, singing sure is fun." (laughs) I'm also a Vocaloid producer, so when I compose songs for other artists, I often send them a Vocaloid demo with Hatsune Miku first. But since I was performing this song myself, I recorded the demos with my own voice right from the start. I explored my comfort zone as I sang, and I had a lot of fun striving for the best results. 

Interviewer: Please tell us how you felt when you saw the opening sequence accompanied by "SHOCK!"

Ayase: I usually picture scenes in my head while composing, and since I'd gotten to see the "Buddy Daddies" character designs, I had thoughts of "it would be cool if they put in a shot like this at this point", or "that might be interesting". And I think it turned out incredibly close to what I had in mind. Of course, I didn't say anything like "I'd love an opening like this", so it's not like they were trying to reflect my preferences, but I could tell that they crafted the footage while taking into account the song's intent and atmosphere. So it made me very happy to watch it.

Interviewer: Is there anything you keep in mind when working on tie-in songs - not just the one for "Buddy Daddies"?

Ayase: Different musicians and artists all approach songwriting with different mindsets, and there will be more tie-in songs in future - for anime, commercials, and so on - but when I'm lucky enough to be chosen, I always want them to come away thinking, "I'm glad I worked with Ayase." That's my top priority, and I think that's how it should be.

I said just now that I produced this song simply and loosely, according to my own tastes, but I still thought carefully about the series. I want people to feel that I have a strong sense of professionalism and am producing work that no one else could do. Not just for anime, but for other tie-in songs as well - I don't just want to make cool songs. I understand that I've been called on for a certain purpose, so I want to create the best work I possibly can. That's why I give it my all, every single day.

Interviewer: How has the public reaction to "SHOCK!" been?

Ayase: When I release songs as part of my regular YOASOBI activity, or when a tie-in series gets broadcast, I'm usually very curious about the public reception. So I check online almost right away. But this time, since I was singing the song myself, I couldn't quite bear to see the reaction. Plus when the anime first started airing, I was really too busy to be on social media much. Honestly, I'm kind of scared to vanity-search myself this time. I've just been getting LINE messages from my family and close friends, saying things like "it's good", and of course that's a huge relief. As a vocalist, I still haven't built up a resistance to public reactions, so if anyone says anything mean I'll probably cry. (laughs)

Interviewer: Please tell us what you think are the selling points of this series "Buddy Daddies".

Ayase: It's got lots of comedic elements and lighthearted scenes, but the serious parts are also legitimately serious. And that also makes the comical bits stand out all the more - it's like a fun black comedy. It kind of has the vibe of a foreign series, and that's an interesting aspect I haven't really seen before.

Interviewer: Finally, please give a message to everyone who is enjoying this series.

Ayase: To all the viewers watching "Buddy Daddies" every week, I hope you enjoy both the opening sequence and the song "SHOCK!" Thank you so much for everything!

[dylanlila]

MAHONIA AND SAGE FOR THE ASK GAME <33

HEY BELOVED 🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡

mahonia ⇢ what place, thing, activity inspires you most and how do you express yourself when it does?

AHHHHH EVERYTHING INSPIRES ME because I am Like That™️ (I am not kidding, everything is unbelievably and unbearably interesting to me), but I obviously have to put my college here first because it is my country and the simple act of existing there brings me JOY because people Like Me are there (there are... 5 of them that I know of, but THEY EXIST :") Sooo, the way Tumblr User Jo Bobdylansgf is when she is inspired isn't that different from online Jo because it is my permanent state of being, but I am super loud and my cheeks get all red and I talk with my hands a lot and I can’t keep still and I jump and dance and do silly things when I walk because I don't know how to walk (just skip and dance honestly) and the only thing that's faster than the way I talk is... well nothing. I forget how to breathe (quite literally) and whoever is on the other end of the conversation has to remind me to breathe (probably because my mother tells this to everyone in my circle she meets because she worries I might die of enthusiasm which would be cool, but also highly unnecessary at the ripe age of 20)

sage ⇢ what ‘medium’ of art (poetry, music, fiction, paintings, statues etc.) is the most touching to you? why do you think that is?

Most definitely MUSIC because... if you think of everything essential to the human experience as a path then music is the crossroads of every single one of those paths. It's the intersection of language and what language cannot reach. It's a reconciliation of opposing concepts, it is a direct laugh at any attempt of categorization. And the reason why *I* love it more than anything else in the world is quite simple. It makes me love me. Because I have always felt like I was the human equivalent of crossroads and music has always been there to remind me how glorious that is. Music is a celebration of life and I am nothing but a celebration of everything I love. Music is my language and my home country and my way of perceiving the world. Nothing makes sense, but music makes sense precisely because it's aware of the nonsensical nature of everything. Music accepts everything. Music refuses to see anything as strange. Music is MUSIC idk man I love music. It is unfiltered. It is in all of us.

[kverything-official]

Happy J-Hope Day: 10 stages of falling in love with Jung Hoseok

Just as we fans like to boast, February is not about Valentines but, for us, It’s about J-hope’s birthday. And today being 18th February, marks the 30th birthday of your hope, my hope, Bangtan’s hope, Jung Hoseok, aka, J-Hope.

J-Hope is not only a human being, he is the personification of sunshine, positive energy and a friend that we all need in life. And he has managed to make us fall for him over and over again. He has that bright and beautiful aura around himself that makes you smile even in your darkest of days. 

Starting from discovering this member with heart-shaped lips to falling head over heels with him, you go through 10 stages and it happens so fast that even before you realize what’s happening – you are in love with J-Hope. 

And to confirm these stages while celebrating the birthday of one of the best dancers of K-Pop industry, I am here with 10 stages of falling in love with J-Hope. 

1. You notice the member who laughs the most 

When you first start to watch BTS, you are bound to notice J-Hope exceptionally. And one of the reasons behind this is his laugh. 

His ringing, echoing laugh is like music to our ears. Maybe he is a bit loud at times, but the way he throws himself everywhere while laughing, makes it impossible not to notice him. And once you notice him… it’s an endgame. 

2. You get to know his unique stage name: J-Hope 

The second stage is getting to know his name. J-Hope, such a unique name, isn’t it? You expect his name to be a bit sassy, given the fact that he is a rapper. But rather his name has hope in it, ‘himang’ as he likes to project. 

Then you find out how perfectly his stage name goes with his personality. The loud, smiley, always energized member is actually BTS’ hope. He has been the bridge between the hyung line and maknae line, holding the group together with his positive energy and his cool demeanor.  

3. You start smiling whenever he smiles 

The third stage is a bit dangerous because it is the starting point of falling in love with J-Hope. 

In this stage J-Hope’s happy virus gets injected into you and you find yourself smiling whenever he smiles. You may stare at your phone for minutes without realizing that you are smiling ear to ear watching him being crazy (coming out from personal experience). 

His smile, the sound of his laugh, his crinkly eyes, his bow-shaped lips, his deep brown orbs, you will start to find everything endearing and a little too interesting all of a sudden.  

4. You get awed by his dance moves 

One thing about J-Hope is that no matter how boisterous he is, he is a completely different human being while performing. His powerful dance moves in heavily choreographed numbers like Mic Drop, Not Today, Dionysus, Boy Meets Evil have left us gasping for air time and time again. 

It is as if somebody shifts a button within him and he becomes an absolute serious dance machine during their performances. And when his dance teacher mode is on – even the members are scared of him. 

Remember that one Run BTS episode when all of them suggested the very same expression when it was asked to pull out an expression that they would project upon messing up a step and making an eye-contact with Hoseok. 

Once you find out the dark, serious, and dedicated authority that J-Hope has, and once you find that amusing – you are gone for good. 

5. You start loving the way he raps – very uncommon 

Now you have probably already heard rappers rapping in their own way but I bet you have never heard anyone rapping like J-Hope. Even though Namjoon and Yoongi have their very own distinct styles of rapping, Hoseok’s rap style is very uncommon. 

He uses his voice like an instrument and creates verses that seamlessly flow out of his mouth in the smoothest possible way. In Boys With Fun he raps in three different ways, something only a genius can do. 

His rap artistry lies in items like Cypher series, Boys With Fun, 1 Verse, Hangsang, Arson and many more but the song that will knock breath out of your lungs is Blue Side. 

Personally, I am devoted to that song. Blue Side is one of the most underrated creations ever. 

The words, the tune, the melody, Hoseok’s breathy voice and that last verse, everything reflects perfection. And once you start feeling Blue Side in your soul – you just know J-Hope is probably your bias already. 

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