#tap rhythm music game

[doodlboy]

Theres a delay on my headphones

[nightmareonpeachstreet]

been bedridden and using my tablet to complete dailies in Genshin and like damn, I didn't realize rhythm games were so much easier on a touch screen until Mr. Itto's wild ride wasn't shit

[emirrea]

Not me watching this video and still crying that Band Yarouze got shelved even tho it's been four years T_T

[angelltheninth]

Love and Deepspace Men Getting Sucked Off

Pairing: Zayne, Rafayel, Xavier, Sylus x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, blowjob, encouragement, cum swallowing, rough oral sex, throatfucking

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters

A/N: Someone help me put this game down.

Zayne doesn't let you suck him off that often, he doesn't have the time to let you have your way whenever you want. It's a very rare treat for you, so you always make the absolute most of it. You can't get him to come fast enough, he's resisting it, teasing you, letting you think you have him where you want him when in fact it's so easy for him to turn the tables on you and start fucking your mouth just like he wanted from the moment you got on your knees. You wanted this remember? So now you have other choice but to swallow every last drop of his cum.

Rafayel is rarely able to keep his hands to himself when you're sucking on his dick. He is an extremely whimpery person in private with you, which is nice for you, that you get to reduce him to a complete mess of a man. Isn't shy about what he likes or how he likes it, and if he has enough energy, or is pent up enough he will throatfuck you until you have trouble talking afterwards. This isn't something that happens often because you always seem to know when he needs your mouth on his dick. Still it doesn't hurt to have him ask, just for you to see that very cute side of him.

Xavier can't last that long when your mouth is on his dick. He has stamina everywhere else but not in this one area, so the way he asks you to blow him is by telling you to help him out with his stamina problem. Of course you know that's he's just being shy about it and wants to feel your warm mouth and tongue on his dick while he runs his hand through your hair and occasionally grabs some of it in his fist. Although usually one to talk too much during sex, preferring you do it, you're able to change that for him very easily with just a few bobs of your head and moans of your own.

Sylus is very relaxed and often sitting on the couch when you're sucking him off. He will have both his arms laid back against the couch, maybe some music in the background as well, his fingers tapping lightly along with the rhythm. You'll have to be really loud if you want him to hear you choking on his cock, you'll have to keep moaning, talking against it and telling how good he tastes to you, or else he might think you don't like what you're doing to him.

[intomybubble]

kms

[enwoso]

a blurb where Lovie is as clumsy as alessia is and keeps falling over and bumping into things and spilling stuff but she hops back up so quickly and is like I’m ok

NOT SO ELEGANT — alessia russo x child!reader

grumpy masterlist

there were many things you had inherited from your mum, like your big blue eyes, your hair colour, your infectious little giggle and your mother's clumsiness. or as alessia liked to rephrase it as being not so aware of her surroundings.

you were forever bumping into things, dropping things or even just falling over. alessia was forever trying to make sure that there were no serious dangers around especially when you were known to bump into even the smallest of things.

it was getting to the point where even the arsenal girls had noticed your clumsiness.

"lovie, do you still wanna show beth your dance?" your mummy asked as you sat at a table, a cup of juice dangerously close to the edge of the table as you watched your ipad. the team was filitering back into the canteen from the afternoon gym session.

"yes, yes!" you jumped up, a big smile as your arms went into the air, on their way knocking your cup of juice into the seat. "oh... it's okay mummy, just a little bit of juice" you frowned looking at the juice dripping onto the floor moving your feet so that they didn't get wet.

"your alright, you show beth your dance and i'll clean this" your mummy reassured you, lifting you out from the seat to ensure you didn't get wet, beth looking on shaking her head a slight snicker coming from her.

"what you like tiny!" she ruffled your hair as you wondered near beth who was in the middle of asking your mum if she wanted any help, alessia waving the girl off as a big grin was plastered across your face. a lot of work had gone into your dance. "let's see this dance then!"

"wait, i need music!" you moved from your starting position, pointing towards beth's phone.

"what song would you like tiny?" beth asked as you mulled over it for a few seconds before a song name came into your head.

“that one viv likes, the one about summer” you smiled, viv had introduced you to taylor swift last week when you were on the road to an away game, her telling you her favourite and for the past week all you had wanted on the radio or the tv was taylor swift.

beth pulling a puzzled face as she tried to quickly remember which song you were talking about, “ah cruel summer?” she asked as you nodded quickly.

beth tapped away at her phone as you got into your starting position in a bit of space in the middle of the canteen, beth giving you the thumbs up that she had pressed play.

you began to do your dance, which was more just you kicking your leg around and flaying your arms around in a time that wasn’t really in rhythm with the song but you were just little so it was cute.

a few more of the girls had come through from the gym stopping in the doorway, their faces lighting up with smiles as they saw you performing your dance, which you had made sure to tell and show all of the arsenal girls.

“yes tiny!” katie hyped you out from the side a few of the other girls, like leah, caitlin, vic and viv clapping you on. alessia was watching on with a small giggle having watched you do this countless times around your living room in past two days alone.

it was going so well, you had put even more energy and effort into the movements but it of course was going to well. you getting a little close to the chair and as you turned to kick your leg out again, your leg got stuck on the chair.

making your trip, a loud crash sound echoed through the room, you landing straight on your knees. a loud gasp coming from the girls watching as the music continued to play. the girls unsure weather to laugh or be seriously concerned or if it was part of your routine.

but coming from the concerned look that had risen on your mums face. it ruled out the possibility of it being part of the dance routine.

“well that wasn’t very elegant-“ katie mumbled as caitlin slapped the girl on the shoulder giving her a stern look as katie held her hands up defensively.

“beth! turn the music off?” viv called out from the side of the room as beth scrambled to turn it off.

“lovie?” your mummy called out with caution, unsure if you were hurt and if the tears were going to start. the girls still looking on not knowing how to react.

“i’m okay!” you jumped back up, a big grin on your face as the girls cheered. you wondering off to your mummy who wasn’t as convinced.

“are you sure you okay?” she asked as you stood inbetween her legs, your mummy fixing the clip that was in your hair as it came loose when you were dancing around.

you nodded, a smile still on your face. “yes, it didn’t even hurt mummy” you played off so confidently as the rest of girls had settled into the canteen and sat down not that your little intervention was finished.

“think you may have to retire the dancing shoes tiny!” vic joked as she took a seat next to your mummy as your eyebrows furrowed a little.

“noo the chair was just in my way, pavlova” you giggled, as you dragged out your words a small giggle coming from your mummy as you used the nickname she had given vic.

you began to wonder off to talk to the other girls, but not without bumping into emily and tripping over another chair leg that was poking out.

“she’s definitely your child less!” vic laughed as alessia rolled her eyes sighing at the fact you had in fact inherited alessia’s clumsiness, and in fact you might actually be worse…

[ikarakie]

one of the known, undisputed rules of riding in steve harrington's car: passenger seat gets music privileges.

if you brought your own tape, and won the usually vicious battle for shotgun, there was a 100% chance that the drive would be backed with music of your choice. hell, there was even a small collection growing in steve's glove box of music that wasn’t his, because people left them behind either on accident or on purpose. no one really knew what steve liked to listen to- maybe minus robin- but he always seemed happy with whatever the passenger put in.

until one day, when dustin and lucas and mike climbed into his car. dustin had won passenger seat privileges, after a rather tense game of rock, paper, scissors, and instantly reached for the tape player.

steve smacked his hand down. "paws off, henderson." he scolded, not unkindly. all three kids stared at him like he'd grown a third limb as he pulled out of the wheeler's driveway. electric guitar played at a semi-low volume.

"what the hell?!" dustin squawked. "why can't i change the tape?" steve rolled his eyes, fingers tapping along to the rhythm of the beat on the wheel. none of the kids recognised the song, and it certainly didn't seem the kind of thing steve harrington would willingly listen to.

"is it so surprising i want to listen to my own tape in my car?" steve asks. dustin shouts an affronted, 'YES!' to which steve just shakes his head and continues driving.

the man on the track sings over heavy drums and guitar, talking about how he needed someone to 'show me the things that make true happiness' and 'he must be blind.' then, there's a guitar solo that steve smiles at.

"who are you?" mike asked, suspicious. "what did you do with our steve?"

"oh, shut up, wheeler." steve meets his eye in the rearview mirror. "next one to complain loses tape privileges for their next three turns."

that does shut them up. they make idle conversation over a couple more songs before they pull up to their destination. mostly threatening each other over high scores and making bets. steve waves them off with the usual 'don't be stupid' lecture and pulls out of the arcade parking lot, the bass of whatever the next track had been audible even through his closed doors and windows.

after that, steve retains ownership of his stereo every now and then, always playing some form of heavy metal. it just becomes the norm, though never fails to confound whoever's in the car. (because, seriously? polo shirt wearing steve harrington and heavy metal?)

they only ever hear anyone else listen to it after they join hellfire. eddie invites them to his trailer to create their characters together, and when they walk in one of the songs from that dumb tape is playing from a record in the corner.

"woah! you like this music too?" lucas asks. eddie nods excitedly.

"yeah, man! you a fan?" his smile dims a little when lucas shakes his head, but dustin is quick to jump in.

"our friend steve is always listening to a dumb mixtape with this sorta stuff on it." he explains, missing how eddie's eyes light up and his smile turns a little bashful. "he used to let us play whatever we want, but ever since he got that tape he makes us listen to it sometimes when he drives us around."

"well," eddie sighs, fiddling with one of his chunky silver rings. "seems this steve knows someone with very good taste in music." there's a warm look in his eyes before he claps his hands and diverts their attention to the character sheets he printed out.

later that night, steve gets a call.

"you told me you only listened to that tape once." the voice on the other end drawls. it's low and teasing, but it's undercut with obvious wonder and fondness. steve doesn't even bother pretending to be confused.

"well, it's good." (it makes me think of you) he replies, like it pains him. eddie giggles, and steve eyes the tape in question. sat on his bedside table, 'for my stevie' scrawled across it in eddie's neatest handwriting. shitty little hearts drawn around his name and an even shittier skull at the end. "how'd you know?"

"recognised my mötörhead record." eddie coos, "told me how you revoke their music privileges to listen to it." a pause. "you're so fucking cute."

steve can't help the dorky smile that spreads over his face. the way he twirls the phone cord like a fucking lovesick loser. he cracks a joke about making eddie a mixtape featuring the likes of duran duran and tears for fears, which makes him fake retch. they chat for a little while longer, whispering 'i love you's through the phones like it was their first time saying it.

the tape stays firmly in the bmw's music rotation.

[admirxation]

彡 𝐈𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐬𝐰𝐢𝐩𝐞

♡ 𝐬𝐮𝐦: the reader is feeling lonely so she decides to go through with a hookup with a guy she recently matched with.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 — afab!reader x Toji Fushiguro, 18+ nsfw smut mdni, tinder hook up, alcohol consumption (no one gets drunk it's used to make each other confident), flirting, praise, touching, clit pinching, rubbing, overstimulation, blow job, throat fucking, orgasms, tit fucking, p in v, doggy style, hair pulling, spanking, and dirty talk. // continue at your own discretion, you’re responsible for the content you consume.

It starts with a swipe.

That’s the familiar tagline of the dating app that you’ve dedicated endless hours to. You have spent many nights swiping until you hit your daily limit—never willing to pay a subscription for more swipes—and locking yourself in the same old tiring routine.

You’ve had the whole experience so far on this app: the dull and lacklustre small talk with people as engaging as a brick wall, the creeps that would always come on too strong and earned an instant unmatch, and the share that always hurt the most; the person who you would click with, sharing engaging and easily flowing conversations with them, only for it to turn to a situationship with the heartbreaking “I want more” “I’m sorry, I don’t” conversation. Resulting in their name, that used to give you butterflies, now being added to a growing blocked list. The only experience you were waiting for, and was held back from, was the experience of finding that one person that makes you delete the app, to happily sit there and press that ‘I met someone’ button when deleting your profile—but that just seemed like a distant fantasy as of now.

Online dating was relentless.

You waded through a sea of wrong swipes, enduring awkward conversations and dead ends, all in the slim hope of finding someone you would actually connect with; that person that made you delete the app for good. It may be naïve to have that hope, but it was not entirely impossible nor something that only happens in fictitious rom-com. After all, you’ve heard of people finding their life partner through those apps, and you even read that meeting partners online was now increasingly common with how technology had interwoven and ingrained itself in daily life and consumption, but honestly, who cares about those statistics when you’re not apart of them? It’s a selfish notion, yes, but all you wanted was to be a part of the successful group that found someone, not the rest who gave up after the app only regurgitated years of disappointment and false hope. But hey, at least you got some matches to boost the ego with physical validation.

Right now, you were just lying in bed, music playing softly in the background to muffle that gnawing sense of emptiness, continuing that usual routine of swiping—going through the usual rapid-fire “yes no” rhythm.

But something made that pause.

The something, or more someone, made you stop and actually take in their profile rather than blitz through it. As you scrolled you were always met with the same tiring cliches: cheesy one-liners, the dreaded holding the fish photo, group shots where you had to guess who the person was, and of course dog pictures—because nothing else says game than luring women with flaunting your four-legged friend. But the person behind this profile seemed intriguing.

“Toji,” you muttered quietly under your breath, reading his name aloud as you raised your eyebrow in intrigue the more you tapped through his profile.

He was handsome, that was for sure, had a solid physique, and a cocky over-confident smirk painted on his face that was arrogant but, in a way, he made it work with a certain charm you couldn’t overlook. His bio was short and to the point: involving his age, height, hobbies, and at the very bottom, the classic deal breaker ‘not interested in a serious relationship, just here for hookups.’

“For fucksake,” you groaned as your head kicked back and sunk into the plush pillow. The one guy who actually made you pause for more than a second was the classic ‘fuckboy.’ Of course, you would just have to swipe left since you weren’t interested in just a quick fuck… but your logical mind was put on pause when your thumb hovered over the screen, knowing you should swipe left. Yes, he didn’t match what you wanted so it probably wasn’t a good idea, it could end up in disaster if he also swiped you and you became too attached to the guy who was never going to be emotionally available, but god was he undeniably attractive to the point you wouldn’t care—maybe you could just try to blow off a little steam and try out what he’s looking for, just because you were searching for a lover didn’t mean you couldn’t indulge now and again… right?

As logic and physical attraction were battling in your mind, you took a deep breath and told yourself to stop getting ahead of yourself; there’s a chance he wouldn’t swipe for you and you’re worrying over some guy that you could swipe and never see his photo again—with a shrug of your shoulders, in your acting of mature demeanour, you just swiped right thinking that this would just be a forgotten swipe.

Toji Super Liked you.

Toji: Hey.

~~~

That night, the conversation went well. You remembered how as the night drew on you two seemed to have that natural flow, even had some things in common. Of course, in no time his messages were making you lie down on your stomach with a silly grin on your face as you watched the dancing chat bubble when awaiting another message that would make that sweet knot develop and tie in your stomach.

That feeling was only growing the more you two had been talking, a week straight and he had been consistent with messaging, but of course, you knew this was going to end up like other situationships with turning back to strangers one day. You knew this would end up like that because of what was in his bio, you’d just be a ‘hookup’, but at least you knew where you stood with him, and you didn’t exactly mind the idea of ‘hooking up’ with him.

There was something fun about knowing that information, unlike other failed situationships, you didn’t have to worry about what he was looking for; you knew you were just another girl’s name on his contact list but that was… tolerable, okay even. You didn’t need to constantly worry, and it was nice to know not to get too attached from the get-go. It was almost fun to just be casual.

That feeling of fun, that bubbling excitement that had been festering inside of you the more days you spoke with him, was finally reaching its peak when you were on your way to his place, after seeing on your phone:

Toji: okay sweetheart I’m going to cut to the chase here... I super liked you and we’ve been talking for over a week now, and I’ve enjoyed it, but how about we have fun and you just come to my place… Promise I’ll make it worth your while?

You had gotten dressed in careful consideration, cycling through countless outfit options and makeup styles and showing your friends, asking them about their opinions with the “be very honest, I want to look really good tonight,” only being met with the teasing of “what’s the point in wearing that dress when it’s obviously coming off later” with their giggles and smirks. Despite their playful teasing, their excitement matched your own and helped you find the look you wanted.

Standing outside his apartment door was only a catalyst of your beating heart sounding like a drum in your chest, beating louder and louder the closer the door was when you walked, his door number staring back at you and causing a flush of nerves to take over; with one deep breath you steeled yourself and knocked—there was no turning back now after that.

The door opened and there he was, Toji, the guy you had nonstop talked to this week, the one you saw in his profile pictures—only he was much better in real life. Tall, with that strong physique, and a playful smirk traced on his features as his eyes trailed over you from head to toe, there was no mistake about the gleaming flash of appreciation he had in those clouded desired eyes; he was savouring every detail that was right in front of him, the kind of look that made you already feel exposed and thrillingly alive under his scrutiny.

“Hey,” he greeted, stepping aside to let you in, and you took note of the voice you could finally hear, that smooth with the right amount of roughness and heat like a glass of whiskey. “Come on in, make yourself comfortable.”

You two exchanged a few pleasantries, trying to calm the butterflies and nerves as you slipped off your shoes and made your way to his couch, noticing the wine glasses that were already set out on the coffee table, paired with the tension that was thick enough to slice through.

With a small smile, you smooth down your skirt as you sat, acutely aware of how close he was already getting to you, the air buzzing with a heady mix of anticipation and nervous energy from you, and he was only providing you with a calm and smooth demeanour—a manner someone who was used to this would portray.

“You’re even more beautiful in real life,” he said with his eyes never leaving your frame. Yeah, it was a bit of a cliché, something expected from that obvious ‘fuckboy’ aura he had going on, but the sincerity in his tone and the confident gleam in his eyes made it land differently and perfectly—you knew where this night was going to lead to, and you were extremely excited by it. He reached for the wine bottle, raising an eyebrow as if to ask for silent permission, to which you nodded, watching the deep red liquid swirl and spill in your glass, soon after letting his fill up.

“Cheers to finally meeting in person,” he said with that same teasing grin that was doing so well to make you melt like butter, holding up his glass and the clink of your glasses feeling like the start of something was charged, something simmering beneath the surface.

You hesitantly took a sip, feeling the warmth slide down your throat as you softly laughed your next comment off: “It’s kind of weird to finally meet you, I know we spoke a lot during this week but it’s still nerve-wracking, you know?”

“Why so nervous? Be that girl on text, I liked her, she was never shy~,” he shot back as he leaned in closer, his voice having a flow and tantalising flirtation about it where that teasing lilt sent a rush of heat to your cheeks, and you couldn’t help but let a small nervous laugh out as you felt him lean closer, his knee touching yours.

“Maybe I was just trying to keep up with your messages,” you retorted playfully, feeling a bit bolder as the wine was working its magic through your conversation, looking away for a moment.

He smirked; his fingers placed underneath your chin as he gently pointed you in the right direction—his gaze. “Oh, I doubt that… You were having loads of fun with me on text,” he murmured, looking at you through lusty half-lidded eyes that dipped briefly to your glossy lips, the tension between you both crackling and begging for a release and initiation.

“Relax,” he said with almost a purr as his fingers trailed to tuck a strand behind your ear, a smooth transition back to caressing your cheek. “We’re just here to have a good time, right? No pressure… I’m sure that girl on message will come out eventually, and I’m looking forward to it.”

You nodded, but your mind was racing. There was a challenge in his gaze, daring you to match his confidence and the aura he was presenting, to keep up with his teasing dance that was already working its magic on you: “I think I can handle that,” you said with a coy smile, taking another sip, and letting the warmth of the wine and his lingering stares and touches blur the feeling of nerves into relaxed tranquillity.

~~~

Thanks to, now, three glasses of wine that had been indulged in, you had warmed up to him quickly, that demeanour you both shared on text was coming out with the shared flirtation and how touchy you were both being as you looked at each other with dusted cheeks and stares that were full of need and desire.

As his large hand gripped your thigh that knot that had been manifesting into a pooling heat all night was travelling lower and lower down your body, spreading further to increase your body heat and that pull you felt was drawing you in closer to him, subconsciously biting your lip at him—those three glasses of wine were a real help tonight.

“There she is,” he teased, finally getting that flirty girl he had been messaging.

“You like that, huh?” he asked with that arrogant smirk that had been plastered on his face the more he had been flirting with you all night; he took no hesitation as his fingertips moved under your skirt slowly, getting closer to your inner thigh before giving it a gentle squeeze, watching a sweet exhale escape your lips as you looked down at his hand.

“I mean, it’s quite obvious I like it, no?” you answered back with, now, a calm and collected done, bringing your eyes back to look into his as your bodies were subconsciously leaning in closer to one another, the tension being palpable between you; all those conversations and the plan of you entering his apartment was all to lead up to this moment.

You couldn’t help but melt into a puddle as you felt his hand cup your cheek, gliding his thumb on your glossy bottom lip, staring at you with intent and lust. There was a burn in this stare, one that made your legs start to quiver and tremble the more his fingers travelled up until you felt him draw a line against your clothed cunt, making a whimper trickle out as you looked down and watched him slowly rile you up.

“I like this version of you,” he teased as he moved closer, his warm breath against your neck as he left soft and hot opened mouth kisses as his index and thumb pinched around your clit, making your already soaking folds push together, making a shiver crawl through you and turn to a high-pitched moan for him that filled the air—only heightening his ego.

“Ahh~”

“Oh, you like that a lot, hm?” he loved how easy it was to get a reaction out of you, how responsive you were as his fingers circled around your cluster of sensitive nerves, and his lips on your skin making a overstimulation of ecstasy that made your chest pump up and down with your pants and moans; you were adoring every minute of this, melting for him like butter. He was so damn good at this as he kept circling and feeling that damp spot in the middle of your lace panties, whispering to you as he kept rubbing and drawing out sweet little moans from you.

“Mmmm Toji~” you whimpered, your lip quivering as the heat inside was ready to explode as he held your wrist and guided your hand to his imprint, making your fingers glide along the denim tent, hearing him pant as you put just the right amount of pressure.

“Feel that baby, see what you’re already doing to me?”

He was way too good at this, but who cares where he had gotten this bravado and skill, all you wanted to do was experience said skill all for yourself, in a moment to get lost in.

You felt your stomach sink as you felt his fingers tangle in your hair, gently pushing your head down, watching you through that clouded stare he held on to your pretty face as you got closer to his cock; lying down and resting his head on the armrest as he watched you with hunger and anticipation.

“I want you to unzip it with your teeth.” There wasn’t much room to negotiate with that, especially with the tone he was giving; leaving you to look up as you unbuttoned and let the feeling of metal graze your fingertips, before getting closer and placing your front teeth on the zipper to drag it down slowly. However, just as you were about to take it down you couldn’t help but blabber on to make sure you didn’t disappoint.

“Just so you know, I’m not very used to this instant hook-up thing, so I hope you’re not expecting—”

With one playful eye role he cut your words off, his hands in your hair as he looked down at you, on your hands and knees on the sofa with an arched back and a skirt hiked up that exposed your underwear.

“Sweetheart, I want you to suck it not give me a life story,” he caressed the sides of your head as he kept his fingers tangled in your hair, “now, take it and shut up like a good girl, is that okay?” giving you a smile that made it all okay, nodding and taking the chance to bite down on the zipper and drag it down. “That’s a good girl,” Toji muttered as he stroked the top of your head as he watched you obey his every command: loving how he didn’t even need to persuade you that much, you were so eager and ready for him—such a good girl for him.

You wrapped your fingers around the waistband, being met with his help as he bucked his hips forward gently for you to pull down his boxers and jeans, a blush growing a deeper shade of red as his length sprang out; momentarily you looked up at him, even though you knew exactly what he was wanting you to do with it—no more words were needed in the situation. Your fingers curled around his rock-hard cock, feeling a twitch travel in his body as you kept pumping it with your soft hand, sitting neatly between his legs before you gave a wet stripe with your tongue along the prominent vein on his shaft, drawing out a groan from him as you continued to lick it.

“Ahhh, fuck~” he hissed.

You made his head kick back even further as you pushed your tits around his shaft, leaving kitten licks on his tip that was already drowned in precum, his hips already pushing forward as he thrusted in between your tits.

You smirked as you looked up at him, giving him a few strokes between your breasts before moving your mouth entirely down and taking his whole length, your lips surrounding the base of his thick length and making him call out your name under the murmurs of his moans and laboured breaths as you took him so well.

“Fuck, you’re so sexy like that,” he uttered as his fingers grabbed gentle fistfuls of your hair as your head sank further and bobbed up and down, looking up at him with those gorgeous eyes as you sucked hard on him. “Keep going, oh my-fuck, that’s right~” he continued to praise until his lack of patience was becoming obvious when he bucked his hips forward with more force lingering in his movements.

“Mmmm!”

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lip as he saw that cute little jump and the way your eyes widened in surprise when the head of his fat cock bashed in the back of your throat, loving those sexy sounds that filled the room as he rocked his hips into your mouth, fucking your throat as he held down your head, the whimpers and occasional gags on his large cock already making him want to paint your throat white—but he couldn’t cum yet without the feeling of being inside you.

As he watched you, he had a growing need to know what you felt like, how it would feel to fuck you so hard; quickly balancing on his elbows as he propped himself up and stopped your movements, making you look up at him in confusion and curiosity.

“I thought you were liking that?” you uttered.

“Oh, I was, but I want something else… Turn around for me baby… Quickly.”

You didn’t give any comment or ask for any reassurance, just knowing you were going to love what would happen next, you weren’t stupid everyone knows what’s coming after “turn around”. You grabbed onto the armrest and looked behind you as you arched your back and pushed your ass up, being met with his looming figure already pressed up against you, his hand on your ass as he positioned himself and teasingly rubbed his tip between your folds, making you mewl out in neediness for him.

“Oh please, I need to feel you.”

“Need? You’ve definitely gotten confident tonight,” he pushed in further and let your folds envelop around him snuggly, making him suck in a quick cold breath as he plunged further in and let your walls tighten and pull him in.

You couldn’t answer, you were too busy letting your fingers curl into the fabric of the couch material as you chewed your bottom lip and let your heavy eyelids flutter up as you moaned out his name.

“Ahhh~ Oohhh fuckkk Toji!”

You watched from behind as he thrusted and rocked his hips further inside of you, those moans and grunts only adding to the heat you felt in your aching core as he rammed himself further inside of you, letting your soaking cunt run its wet down your inner thighs as he kept giving it all to you, slapping the fat of your ass as he watched you take him.

“Nngh~ You’re so sexy like that… You like being fucked like this baby?”

“Mmhmm, nnghh~”

“Use your words, I wanna know how you feel,” something about the power he had over you was intriguing to him, watching you just take it, “Come on, I’m waiting baby girl.” His teasings were not only limited to verbal as his hand gripped onto your locks and pulled you back, making you pant heavily as he fucked your tight little wet hole and pulled your hair with more force.

“I, mmm~ Love it! It feels amazing!” your eyes started to water as you squeezed them shut, getting adjusted to how big and how rough he was.

“How about, this?” he punctuated his question with a harder thrust and harsher spank on your ass that was sure to leave a big red mark of ownership, his cock hitting against your cervix the more he got lost in the feeling of your walls spasming around him, and making you call out his name and weep as the tip was hitting just the right spot as he buried it deeper and deeper inside your snug cunt.

“Toji! Yes yes yes! Right there!”

You had melted down into nothing but a blabbing fool as you cried out for him in need, being met with your release as you came all over his length, accompanied by your shaking thighs as he was still trying to reach his finish.

“…Fuck,” he groans as he quickly pulls out, gripping harder on your hips as he pushed his cock between your ass, letting him spurt out hot ropes of cum all over your back, riding out his high as he watched it pudding into the dip of your arched back.

“Stay still, I’ll get something for you to clean up with,” he murmured with a light spank on your ass before going to get you a towel.

Taglist: @bratbby333 @styrofoamplat3s [taglist link here]

a/n: I swear Choso and Toji are just my fav guys that make me fold ahehehehee, I just wanna write them 24/7.

[ruggiethethuggie]

POST GAME || Ruggie Bucchi

wc: 1009 tags: ruggie bucchi, fem!reader only because reader is referenced as a “girl” in a boys locker room, established relationship because i said so, ruggie post game after a win, rugbert is cheeky as always, he also likes kpop because why not, slightly suggestive, never proofread- we type and upload

a/n: i sat for an hour in an unstable mental state after seeing this ruggie bucchi card. yana put her whole ass into this card. me thinks yana has a secret favorite, i mean have you seen ruggie's ssr cards ??? bangers

You tapped your phone screen once more, checking the time. It had been at least 20 minutes since the spelldrive match had ended and the NRC team had gone back to their locker room. You were trying to be patient, but it was killing you how long your boyfriend was taking. One after one, the team started to leave, but there was no sign of your biscuit brown, tousled-haired beau. You checked your phone one last time before you huffed and pushed past the entrance doors. You made your way past the short hallway of lockers into the open space where only a few team members remained, gathering their gear and belongings. Ruggie sat on the bench in the middle of the room.

He had already taken off his black athletic shirt and was in the process of taking off his cleats. He had music playing from his phone, feeling the rhythm and quietly singing to himself as he unstrapped his knee braces and put them in his bag. You stood there in front of him, hearing the sounds of the other lockers closing and the not so subtle whispers about a girl being in the boys’ locker room as the last of the team left for the night. You rested your hands on your hips and put on your best pouting face for him to see when he finally acknowledged you standing there. You watched as he continued to take his time removing each of his things and tucking them away in his bag. He softly changed his gaze to look at you, raised one eyebrow and grinned as he sang to you. “Baby, you a gangster, got my hands tied. Fallin’ for you deeper girl, I can’t lie. So sweet, like honey, honey.~ ” 

“Ruggie, come on. It’s getting late and I want to go back to the dorms. It’s already cold and I’m tired,” you whined, grabbing his hand and tugging on it. “Honey, Honey, Honey, workin’ for you like a bee. Buzzin’ for you baby, baby. Tell me what you need. What you need, ha, you can say please,” he continued to serenade you with a look that on normal occasions would have you melting, but not at this moment. You dropped his hand harshly and lightly pinched one of his ears. “Hey, hey, those are sensitive,” he groaned before chuckling to himself and pulling out his normal everyday clothes from his bag. “And you’re tired? I forgot you just played in the match, my bad, chief.” He grabbed your hand back and pulled you onto his lap.

“Stop, you’re all sweaty and gross!” you exclaimed, clambering to get out of his grip. Your need to get away only made him pull you closer into his embrace. “But, I thought you liked this,” he snickered as he nuzzled his sweat soaked forehead on your shoulder. His eyes were beaming as he looked up at you, his fangs peaking through his mischievous grin. It was a hard sight to be upset at, and he knew that all too well. He knew you all too well. “Ruggie,” you whined again. “Say please, or we stay here all night,” he teased. “Please, Ruggie, hurry up,” you replied, your voice monotonous. His ears drooped a bit as he looked at you. “That doesn’t sound very sincere.”

“What? You want me to get on the floor and beg?” His ears perked up at your suggestion, which was supposed to be more of a rhetorical question. “Ruggie, I’m not getting on the floor and begging you to get undressed so we can go home.” You watched as his eyes trailed from your eyes to your lips and then back to your eyes. “You don’t want me undressed? I’m hurt. What do I do all this working out for then? For the boys?” he asked playfully. You lightly pushed him back and rolled your eyes. “You know what I mean. You’re still partially in your uniform and have to change. Don’t you think we should go home and rest? You guys just won another placement match, so you’ll want to be ready for the semifinals.”

“Yeah, yeah. We can go soon.” He moved you off his lap and onto the bench before standing up. He grabbed the hand towel that had been on the opposite side of him and used it to dry off the droplets of sweat on his face, neck, and chest before tossing it back on the bench. The locker room didn’t have much going on visually besides the random “team spirit” and “sportsmanship” posters hanging up on the walls behind a row of lockers. Ruggie was much more aesthetically pleasing to look at than them. You watched observantly as he searched his shirt for the tag so he put it on right, his forearm flexing every time his grip changed on the fabric. He pulled the shirt over his head, making sure to let his ears through first so they didn’t get tugged on.

He noticed you looking at his arms as he pulled his shirt down and straightened it out. “Don’t ogle me, weirdo.” He stood in front of you and leaned down to meet your eye level and placed one hand on either side of you. “Y’know, we did just win, and we don’t have to leave the locker rooms just yet.” Again, his fangy grin had you enamored as you felt your blood rushing to your face. You took the damp towel he had used previously and shoved it in his face between you both. “I wanna go home, Ruggie, please, you’re the one being a weirdo,” you teased playfully. “Yeah, okay, I’ll remember that. See if I share any of my snacks with you then,” he sighed as he ruffled his hair.

“Snacks?” you said intrigued. He bit his lip and shrugged as he grabbed his pants and walked off to the bathroom. “Ruggie, wait- are the snacks here??” you shouted to him. He just snickered as he closed the door without saying anything more.

© Orange Divider | banner by me | please do not copy and or repost my work as your own, my brain is massive and these are my thoughts.

[frickingnerd]

two can play that game

pairing: keigo takami / hawks x fem!reader

summary: during a pro hero gala, hawks plays hard to get, to gain your attention. turns out he doesn't like it when you turn the tables on him and spend your evening with someone else…

tags: jealous!hawks, hawks is a bit of an asshole in this, reader dances with endeavour, happy ending, hawks & reader dancing together, hawks apologizes

hawks had been ignoring you ever since you showed up at the party. the moment your eyes met, he turned away and quickly began talking to the nearest person, just so he wouldn't have to talk to you. and you had no idea why.

you thought about every possible explanation. had you upset him? was this just a misunderstanding? had he mistaken you for someone else? or was he really just angry at you because of something you had forgotten?

the first hour of the party, you spent the entire time just thinking about it. every time you tried to approach hawks, he turned away and quickly began to talk to someone else or even pulling one of the women onto the dancefloor with him.

it took you until two hours into the event to understand what was going on, when another pro hero pointed it out to you.

“oh, he's trying to get you to think about him! paying no attention to you to get you more interested, you know?”

suddenly it seemed so obvious to you.

his plan had worked flawlessly too, as you had done nothing but spend the last two hours sitting by yourself, wondering what possible reason hawks could have for ignoring you. but now you knew. and you weren't happy at all!

but, two could play that game.

if hawks wanted to ignore you and chat up other women to make you jealous and get your attention, then you could do the same! and you knew just which man to ask for a dance to get the attention of the number two hero…

“excuse me…”

you gently tapped the endeavor's shoulder, causing the older man to turn around and glance down at you.

“would you like to dance with me?”

the question seemed to be a bit of a surprise, yet enji quickly put away his glass and offered you his hand, which you happily took.

the two of you made your way onto the dancefloor and you could feel everyone's eyes on you. not just hawks was staring at you two, but so was everyone else. after all, you had the courage to ask the number one hero to dance. and he had actually said yes!

though the two of you barely even finished your dance. halfway through the song, keigo stormed onto the dancefloor, glaring at you two.

“excuse me, we're not done dancing. if you want to be my next partner, then you have to wait a bit longer”

you said calmly, struggling to keep that big grin off your lips. you could see it was bothering keigo and you were satisfied. finally, he got a taste of his own medicine. and he didn't seem to like it.

“enji, get your hands off her–! …please!”

keigo struggled to stay calm, speaking through gritted teeth and being even more formal than needed.

sadly, endeavor did as he was told, not interested in causing a scene. he just took a step back and smiled at you.

“perhaps we can continue our dance another time” he said, though mostly as a formality, before glancing towards keigo and leaving you two behind on the dance floor.

you were about to turn around and leave keigo standing by himself, when he grabbed your wrist and pulled you closer, his other hand quickly finding its way onto your waist.

“what do you think you're doing, hawks?”

you raised an eyebrow, attempting to pull your hand away, but his grip on it was too tight.

“it's keigo for you, sweetheart” he corrected you, slowly beginning to dance with you to the rhythm of the music. “and i'm getting the dance i deserve”

“ha!” you huffed amused. “last time i checked, you have been dancing with countless women tonight. i'm sure you don't need to dance with me as well”

“oh, have you been checking me out all night, sweetheart? i had no idea…” keigo hummed innocently, a satisfied smile on his lips. he had gotten to you and he knew it.

“and you? you've had your eyes on me too, right? that's why you always managed to turn away when i approached. and that's how you knew i was dancing with enji” you cocked up an eyebrow, staring into keigo's eyes. he tried to avoid eye contact, rolling his eyes, before pulling you closer.

“and? what if i did?” he just asked, a cocky smirk on his lips. “can't a man check out a beautiful woman?”

he was so full of himself. you pulled your hand out of his grasp, yet his other hand remained on your waist.

“if you think i'm beautiful, then be man enough to tell me that to my face. i don't appreciate you playing games with me. so, you can drop your little act and continue to dance with me or i'll leave and ask enji for another dance” you looked him deep in the eyes, this time without keigo turning away. “so, what will it be?”

for a moment, keigo remained quiet. he was likely waging the options in his head. but after a few more seconds, he sighed and pulled you close again.

“i'm sorry, i've been a bit of an asshole to you tonight…” he started, only for you to quickly interrupt him. “a bit?”

“okay okay, i've been a huge asshole! i should've known not to treat you like this. now, will you forgive me and continue to dance with me?”

keigo put on the best puppy eyes he could muster up. you knew you shouldn't reward him for this bad behavior. you knew you should tell him to prove that he means it and only then does he get another chance. but you were weak for him. and so, you sighed and gave in.

“i suppose i could let you have one more dance…”

[fcwoso]

  Silent treatment · Leah Williamson

Summary: leah gets too competitive and gives reader the silent treatment, it takes self-reflection and potato smileys for leah to come around

MASTERLIST

You and Leah just got back from Alex's house, she had organized a little get together with a couple of friends. There were some nice snacks, drinks and last but not least, board games. This immediately triggered your girlfriend in going full competition mode, not respecting anyone's existence or self-confidence. All she cared about was winning, she didn't care about your feelings. Everyone knew Leah hated losing, but it was you that had to deal with the aftermath.

You were two rounds in when Leah started looking at you with furrowed eyebrows, shaking her head while eying your hands. She was fully convinced you had cheated, which resulted in her having to quit the game. ‘’You’re not playing fair.’’ Was what she said after a minute of monitoring every move you made. You knew she was out because of a mistake she made and not because you were playing unfair. ‘’You know what? I’m going to ignore that.’’ You laughed, knowing how Leah could get overly invested in these casual games. While you had ignored Leah’s snarky comment, she for sure did not forget about how you won every round of the rest of the game. Alex couldn’t refrain herself from making fun of your girlfriend, a small scowl had replaced the usual grin she had plastered on her face. Leah tried to deny the fact that she was a sore loser, but you knew better.

The car ride home was tense, the radio was off, and Leah's hands were resting firmly on the wheel. Her jaw was clenched and the frown on her forehead didn’t go unnoticed. You couldn't help but tease her, her competitive side taking over once again. "Oh, come on. Leah, are you being serious?" You were met with silence, dead silence. With a hand on her thigh, you tried to make an attempt to lighten up the mood. Leah refused to give you an audible reply and shook her leg instead. "Okay, whatever. Loser."

You tried to hold yourself back from laughing, knowing you would piss her off even more if you did. So, you took your hand back and folded your arms to imitate her childish behaviour. After a minute or two, you saw her moving to the screen in front of her, finally deciding to put some music on. A country song was playing in the background while Leah moved her head from side to side, tapping along the rhythm of the sound that came out of the speaker.

‘’So, country music gets you in a good mood, but I don’t?’’ You asked, feeling somewhat offended by her denying physical contact, over a game. Leah shrugged and pulled over at your shared appartement. "I just don't feel like talking to you" She nonchalantly replied while taking off her seatbelt, not looking you in the eye. You huffed and left the car, closing the car door a bit harder than usual to let her know you were becoming irritated with her behaviour. ‘’This woman.’’ Was the last thing you heard Leah mumble under her breath before entering your home, you knew how much she hated when you slammed her precious car doors.

You decided to take a quick shower before posing in front of the tv, watching back a new episode of the show you’ve been following for a while now. Leah had done the same thing, except she didn’t take place on the sofa next to you. She stayed in your bedroom, mindlessly scrolling on her phone, watching random clips of the last Arsenal game. After a few minutes, she started to feel regret, realizing how much she had been exaggerating. You haven’t done anything and here she was, giving you the cold shoulder. So, Leah pushed her pride aside and got up to make her way to her most favorite person. In the meanwhile you popped some potato smileys in the oven because you were a bit hungry after the long night you just had.

''What are those?'' Leah quietly asked as she tried to peek over your shoulder, soft footsteps echoing in the kitchen. ''Are those...potato smileys?'' She asked again, feeling hurt you didn't invite her to eat them with you. You knew how much she loved them because it was almost the only thing she ate, due to her non-existent tastebuds. But then again, she was supposed to give you the silent treatment. She was failing miserably, though. "Aren't you supposed to be quiet?" You hummed, waiting for her to crack. It wasn't going to take too long now. "I changed my mind." Leah innocently replied, getting closer to where you were standing. You felt her wrap her arms around your shoulders, peppering kisses on your cheeks that had been untouched since you had arrived at Alex’s place.

‘’I’ve missed talking to you.’’ You couldn’t refrain yourself from rolling your eyes as she mumbled the words against your cheek. ‘’Did you realize that before or after you saw what I was preparing?’’ You asked, moving over to the fridge to grab a few sauces. Leah didn’t let your body go, arms still rested around your waist while she tried to keep up with your footsteps. ‘’I’m sorry for being childish.’’ She started, but noticed you weren’t content with her apology. ‘’And for being rude.’’ Leah continued. She loosened her grip on you before you felt a hand on your jaw, making you rest your head on her shoulder, eyes staring into yours as she leaned in to give you a soft peck on the lips.

‘’Can I enjoy my food now?’’ Was the only thing you said, mumbling your words due to Leah’s hold on you. She was long forgiven, but you just wanted to mess with her, because why not? Leah groaned and slightly tightened her grip, leaning in once again to give you another kiss, this one a bit harder. ‘’Babe, I’ve already apologized. You know I’m not the best…loser.’’ She spat out the last word with disgust, but you felt proud of her for putting the words I and loser in one sentence, she was making progress.

You sighed, trying to keep up with the angry façade, but failed after noticing your girlfriend was actually getting frustrated and not to forget, how she was eying the plate of potato smileys. ‘’Grab a plate, Williamson.’’ Leah’s eyes lit up as she heard the words, her hand letting your jaw go before walking over to a cupboard. You turned around and started to make your way to your cozy living room, but suddenly felt a smack on your butt, almost making you drop the food. ‘’Leah!’’ You exclaimed, shortly turning around to scold your girlfriend, but stopped when you saw the grin on her face. ‘’What? I can’t touch my lady? It’s been a while, you know.’’ She said, making you shake your head. ‘’Yeah, I know. You were being a sore loser.’’ You remembered her and sat down on the couch, putting the food on the salon table.

‘’That’s in the past now. Come on, give me a smooch.’’ Leah pouted her lips at you, closing her eyes while waiting for you to fulfill her demand. She moved closer to where you were sitting, making you lean back against the couch. You decided to inch closer as well, brushing your lips against hers before whispering, ‘’I was better than you today.’’ Leah let out a chuckle, softly brushing her nose against yours before stealing a kiss. ‘’Whatever, I don’t care anyway.’’ She said, not really succeeding in convincing you.

The blonde moved back to her usual place before munching on one of her favorite foods, not leaving any space between you two. She quietly thought of something she could beat you in, and immediately came up with an idea. Leah chewed her food away before clearing her throat, ‘’Wanna play some football tomorrow?’’

[cranberrymoons]

i'll be home for christmas

prompt: no upside down au (@steddieholidaydrabbles) rated: t word count: 909 words tags: flirting, bartender eddie, college student steve

welcome to Day 9 of the fic advent calendar – bite-sized fics posting every day during the month of december. enjoy!

Nancy dumps him a few months after he moves away for school, and so he doesn’t come home that summer or the one after that, until a couple years have gone by and he ends up stuck back at his parents’ house during Christmas break. 

He hasn’t seen them in a while, but truth be told, he’d kind of rather just be back in South Bend hiding out in his dorm or maybe at the bar with Robin, the only other person from Hawkins who’d ended up at Notre Dame. He hadn’t even known her before they were there, and she’s a year below him, but – whatever. When you leave a small town, you sort of tend to find each other after a while.

She’s not there right now, though, so it’s not like it really even makes a difference. She’s off on some trip with her own parents, one that they take every other year, back to visit her mom’s old hippie friends in Berkeley, because Robin has the sort of parents who have old hippie friends back in Berkeley. Maybe Steve could just get adopted by them, and then he'd never have to come back here at all.

Anyway.

He’s here now. That’s the problem.

And of course he got into a fight with his dad on the first night back. Of course he did. I wasn't even over anything worthwhile, just – Whatever. It doesn’t even matter. He doesn’t even care, just. He really does hate his dad sometimes.

He clenches his jaw in rhythm to the song that’s playing from the tape deck in his room, turns his head on the pillow to squint at the glowing red alarm clock in the corner. 

8:50 PM

It’s barely even nighttime. He can’t just sit here like this, like he’s waiting for his parents to leave, because they’re not going to fucking leave, so maybe – maybe he should –

He catapults himself off the bed and reaches for his keys on the dresser, shoving them in his back pocket before he can overthink it. Down the stairs, slipping into his shoes by the door, shrugging into his coat. Calling over his shoulder that he’s going out, don’t wait up, and –

He doesn’t actually know where he’s going, but he gets in his car and starts driving. Just drives until he ends up parked in front of the Hideout, the run-down little dive bar on the complete opposite side of town. 

It’s open, and there are a few people hanging around out front, so he turns off the car and goes inside.

It’s dark in here, the ceiling low and the music kind of weird and more guitar-y than he’s used to, but it’s medium-crowded in a way that makes him feel like he can probably just grab a seat at the bar and blend in and not have to worry about anyone trying to talk to him about –

“Harrington?”

Fuck. 

He turns with a big fake smile on his face, prepared to deal with Tommy, who he hasn’t seen in at least a year, or maybe even Billy, who he hasn’t seen in about as long. Worst of all would be the Byers kid, the one he got dumped for, but Jonathan’s probably not bold enough to actually say anything to his face, but still. The last person he expects to find is –

“Munson?” 

Eddie gives a little jerk of his head and drops a dish towel over his shoulder. He braces his hands on the opposite side of the bar, arms spread wide, and Steve’s eyes flicker down, just for a beat, to the way the thin cords of muscle flex under his skin where it’s lined with a twisting pattern of black tattoos.

Eddie clears his throat, and Steve sucks in a breath, blinking back up to his face. Eddie raises his eyebrows. 

“What’ll it be?”

“Um. Just a – beer, whatever,” Steve says as he tugs his coat off and slides onto a stool. “You work here?”

“No, I’m just a really creative burglar,” Eddie says. He reaches for a glass and pulls the tap as he eyes Steve up and down. “Playing the long game. If I stand back here long enough, they’ll stop noticing me, and that’s when I strike.”

He sets down the drink and slides it across the bar, and Steve grins as he accepts it, letting out a surprised laugh. 

“Well now you’ve given it away,” he says, raising his eyebrows as he takes a sip. “Your plan is ruined.”

“You’re going to turn me in?” Eddie asks. He folds his arms over his chest and leans back against the countertop behind him, and Steve’s eyes drop down again like he can’t help it. “What if I cut you in? Ten percent?”

Steve feels a pleased little flush wash over him as he looks back up to Eddie’s face, shoulders relaxing as he takes another sip of his beer. Eddie’s smile is slow and a little sweet, and it makes something in Steve’s stomach do a weird little flip. He tears the corner off a bar napkin to distract his hands from fidgeting too much, and leans forward across the bar. He narrows his eyes.

“Twenty.”

Eddie’s smile grows. He lifts his chin. “Fifteen, and your next beer’s on me.”

Steve laughs, feeling a warm glow settle in his chest. “Sounds like a deal.”

[also on ao3]

[itwasthereaminuteago]

First date: Frank takes you dancing

Of course he comes to pick you up with a bunch of flowers in hand and a sweet kiss on your cheek.

He looks so good, shirtsleeves pushed up to his elbows showing off the thick veins crossing his forearms, and you spend the whole ride in his truck yearning for the moment when he'll put those arms around you.

But first, when you get to the venue, he buys you whatever drink you desire, whether it's a ridiculously fancy cocktail or mocktail, a whiskey, or a bottle of beer like he's ordering, whatever you want.

You notice how he listens closely and looks right at you when you're talking, it makes you feel like you're the only person in the room. You can't help the slight heat from coming to your face whenever he catches your gaze and his lips spread into a handsome smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

The local band is playing something mid-tempo and catchy, and you find your fingers tapping along to the rhythm on the side of your glass.

When he gets up from the table, extending a hand, you're full of nervous excitement. His hands are warm and sure and he moves one to the small of your back to guide you onto the dancefloor sending little shivers up your spine, and when you get closer he smells so damn good you want to eat him.

He lets your fingers intertwine, his hands so big but he's gentle with you as you start to move together to the music.

Thoughts of him doing other things with them come unbidden into your imagination as he competently dances you around the floor, like how his fingers would feel pressing into the soft flesh of your hips, or maybe even his hand wrapped firmly around your neck as you're on top of him...

Your other hand is at his shoulder and you can feel his muscles flex slightly under his shirt as you trail your hand slowly down to rest on the broad expanse of his chest.

Then you laugh out in surprise as he suddenly twirls you in a circle and tightly pulls you back in to his embrace.

"You enjoying yourself, sweetheart?" He asks you earnestly, determined to ensure you feel comfortable, and you nod, your face lighting up with your smile.

"What if I told you you're doing everything right so far?"

"Anythin' more I can do?" he says, those warm brown eyes only further stoking up the flames of the fire that is burning at your core.

You're no longer really dancing, just gently swaying together, the tension between you both feeling like something could break at any moment...

"You could kiss me?"

It's as if he's been waiting for years for you to say those words the way his eyes instantly flicker down to your lips.

Frank brings his fingers up just under your chin, tipping your head towards him as he leans in. As your mouths meet in a soft, sensual kiss you cannot help the little noise of pleasure you make now that it's happening, and as you kiss back he's deepening it, fingers skating along your jawline to cradle the side of your head, pushing into your hair and guiding you with just enough control it makes your knees weak.

You both only pull away far enough for your foreheads to touch, the bustle of the dancefloor and the bar fading into the background.

Dancing then becomes dotted with your languid makeout sessions, eventually culminating in you leading Frank back towards the table so you can pick up your jacket and bag.

"So are you gonna take me home, Marine?"

Frank chuckles, shaking his head as he smiles, but evidently glad that you're game to continue this elsewhere.

"If that's what you want, then yes I am." he replies in a low voice, stealing another soft kiss from you, and you're met with a deep rumble from his chest as you playfully nip his lower lip with your teeth.

[whxtedreams]

Unfiltered Adoration

A Poets Love

Inspired by rupi kaur poem:

You must have a honeycomb For a heart How else could a man Be this sweet Page 191 - the sun and her flowers

Word Count: 2.6k

Tags: Tooth rotting fluff, eye spy game, Joel and Sarah, road trip, embarrassed!Joel

Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist

There is something profoundly soothing about being bathed in the warm glow of sunlight, especially when his rough, calloused hand rests on your thigh.

In this moment, it is all you need. The world outside their little bubble might be a chaotic, uncertain place, but here, with him, you find peace and contentment.

This quiet life, simple yet perfect, is all you ever wanted.

His thumb gently stokes back and forth across your skin in a soothing rhythm, his mind elsewhere as he hums deep in thought. His free hand rests on the steering wheel, tapping idly in time with the music that plays softly on the radio.

The sky is painted in a glorious display of orange, pink, and gold as the sun begins its descent. Birds dance and dip in the sky above, their wings fluttering in a graceful arc as they head back to their nests, signaling the end of the day.

Joel let out a soft sigh, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between them. He glances to the backseat at Sarah for a moment before returning his gaze to the road. His grip on the steering wheel tightens, his eyes focused on the stretch of road ahead.

Joel glances into the backseat again, where Sarah is lounging lazily, her head resting against the seat as she reads. He taps his fingers against the steering wheel, contemplating before asking her, "Car? Cab? Cow?"

Sarah shakes her head once more, her expression still filled with amusement as she revels in her father's struggle to find the right answer. The corners of her mouth turn up into a slight smile.

"You're getting closer," she teases as she flips the page of her book.

Joel groans in mock frustration, but a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips. "You're killing me here, kid," he mutters, shifting in his seat as he tries to come up with the correct answer. "You said I'm getting closer, so that means I'm warm, right? Is it a caravan?"

“Nope.”

"Do you even have a word, or are you just messing with me?"

Sarah shoots her father a mischievous smirk from the back seat, a playful glint in her eyes as she responds, "I do, I just think you need glasses."

Joel lets out a mock gasp, feigning offense at his daughter's comment. "Ouch, kid, that hurts," he says, putting a hand against his chest in exaggerated despair. "You think I need glasses? I'll have you know my vision is perfectly fine, thank you very much."

 You interlace your fingers through his hand on your thigh and give it a gentle squeeze. You look over at Joel, a sweet, innocent expression on your face and your voice brims with playful affection. "I don't know," you say with a chuckle, "you were having trouble with that crossword last night."

Joel glances over at you, his eyes soft and lips pouting in a pleading expression that he knows all too well is enough to melt your heart. "You're meant to be on my side darlin’" he says with feigned disappointment, a playful glimmer in his eyes as he tries to keep a straight face.

Joel's beauty is a paradox - simple yet extraordinary, ordinary yet captivating. His eyes, although sharp, hold a depth of kindness. The strong, resolute line of his jaw speaks of determination and resilience. The soft curve of his lips can turn up in playful grins or settle into a stern, serious expression. His presence, though weighed down by the burden of the world he carries, radiates a sense of warmth and strength. Being by his side, witnessing the various facets of his character, makes you feel undeniably lucky.

A playful smile graces your lips as you add, "Sorry, babe, just telling the truth.” Your tone light-hearted and affectionate. As Joel rolls his head back to the road, you catch a glimpse of his widening smile, and the love and happiness radiating from his expression are undeniable. He pretends to be frustrated, but there's no hiding the fact that he finds joy in your banter. There's a soft chuckle that escapes him, betraying his feigned annoyance.

As the sun dips below the horizon and the night sky blankets the world, Joel continues to hazard guesses for the elusive word, his hand tenderly playing with yours in between attempts. His focus is split between the game and the road ahead, but a hint of amusement and fondness can be detected in his voice with each new guess.

You turn away from Joel, your smile warm with affection, and direct your gaze out the window. The expansive fields stretch out before you, a canvas of lush green grass and an array of colorful wildflowers. The soft moonlight bathes the scene in a serene, almost enchanting glow, making the gentle swaying of the grass and flowers a calming sight to behold.

The expansive fields offer a welcome divergence from the cramped, urban landscapes of the city. The wide-open space stretches out before you, providing ample room for your mind to wander and your spirits to soar. The peaceful scenery seems at odds with the playful tension in the car, as Joel continues to wrack his brain for the correct word.

You pause for a moment, contemplating the word before suggesting, "What about cattle?" Your voice is light and thoughtful as you make the suggestion.

Sarah lets out a theatrical groan from the backseat, her eyes rolling dramatically as she mutters, "Finally." Her response is filled with exaggerated annoyance, a hint of mockery evident in her tone.

Joel turns to glare at Sarah in the back seat, his body making an audible crack with the swift motion. Frustration laces his voice as he retorts, "What the hell, Sarah? I guessed cow five times!"

"I heard you, but you didn't say 'cattle,'" she clarifies, pulling a blanket over her legs.

Joel lets out a disgruntled grunt "They're the same thing!" he argues, his voice rising slightly in agitation.

You find yourself unable to suppress the amused chuckle that escapes your lips, watching Joel's face as it displays a mixture of annoyance and playful exasperation.

You turn away from Joel's frustrated expression, resting your head against the car door as you listen to the ongoing argument between him and Sarah. The sound of their voices rises and falls, filled with the passionate debate over the game's rules. Despite the slightly absurd nature of the discussion, there's a sense of familiarity and comfort in their banter, like a well-worn routine.

You blink slowly, your eyes still heavy with sleep as you gradually reorient yourself. Your surroundings come into focus, and you discover that you must have dozed off, your head resting against the car door. The familiar scent of Joel's jacket envelopes you, so comforting.

The memory of how you ended up with the jacket around you is a bit hazy, but the warmth and comfort it provides are undeniable. Gazing out the window, you notice the soft glow of a nearby gas station, its warm, incandescent light cutting through the otherwise dark and deserted stretch of road.

You sit up slowly, your back protesting from the stiffness and discomfort brought on by the prolonged position and realize that Joel is no longer in his seat. You cast a glance towards the backseat, finding Sarah fast asleep, the blanket tossed carelessly over her as she snores softly.

You stretch your limbs, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as the car door swings open and Joel settles back into his seat. He's carrying an armful of snacks, a variety of chips, candies, and packaged meals, and his expression is a mix of sheepishness and amusement. He shrugs apologetically before glancing over at you, a small, guilty smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Joel fumbles with the large variety of snacks he has in his lap, trying to balance them all in his arms as he lets out a nervous chuckle. He looks at you with a hint of embarrassment on his face, his voice rambling as he explains himself. "I, uh, well I didn't want to wake either of you and I didn't know what you wanted so... I may have gone a little overboard," he admits, his hand reaching up to rub the back of his neck.

You smile as a yawn escapes you, the sleep still clinging to your body. You reach out and take a wrapped sandwich from the top of the pile in Joel's lap, the plastic crinkling faintly under your touch. Your voice is soft and sleepy as you murmur, "You're so sweet."

Joel's lips curve into a broad grin at your words, a shy but pleased smile that crinkles the corners of his eyes. He glances away, a faint blush creeping up his neck, trying to hide the effect your words had on him. He fumbles with the keys in his hand, his attention suddenly focused on starting the car as he attempts to compose himself.

Joel mumbles under his breath, a hint of embarrassment tingeing on his voice as the car starts up with a low thrum. "Shut up," he quips.

You chuckle at Joel's muttered response, shaking your head affectionately. However, your humor is quickly replaced by a feeling of contentment as his hand reaches out and intertwines with yours once more. You gently squeeze his hand, feeling the familiar warmth and pressure of his touch.

 This is where his hand belongs, intertwined with yours. A perfect fit.

By the time the car pulls up in front of a small, modest motel, the moon has risen high in the night sky, casting a silvery, otherworldly glow on the surroundings. The radio clock on the dashboard flips over to 11 PM. Exhaustion hangs heavily on you, making the sight of the motel a welcome sight.

After checking in at the front desk and gathering your bags, Joel carefully lifts the sleeping Sarah into his arms, holding her close against his chest as he carries her into the room. He holds her with a tender, gentle grip, his fatherly care apparent in his actions. Once inside the room, Joel places her down onto one of the beds, tucking her in with a kiss to her forehead.

Joel turns away from Sarah and his gaze lands on you. You're standing just inside the bathroom doorway, your eyes silently watching him as he moves around the room. There's a moment of silence between you before he approaches, his footsteps heavy yet deliberate on the carpeted floor.

Joel's arms wrap around your waist, his face buried in the crook of your neck as you stand at the sink brushing your teeth. You can feel the tickle of his beard and the warmth of his breath on your skin. His embrace is soft and affectionate, a wordless moment of connection. The feeling of his smile against your skin is evident, the curve of his lips pressed firmly against your neck.

As Joel gently sways you in his arms, his movements slow and steady, it feels as if your heart is being consumed by a sweet, aching sensation. The depth of his affection, the overwhelming tenderness he pours into this moment, is so overwhelming that it borders on painful. The love that seems to pour out of his every action leaves you feeling both impossibly light and impossibly heavy all at once.

His head raises, and he meets your gaze in the mirror, his eyes locking with yours. The unfiltered adoration that you see reflected in his gaze sends a wave of intense emotion crashing through you, almost like a physical force. It feels as if your heart is expanding in your chest, filling with a mixture of tenderness and love. For a moment, you feel as if you can barely breathe, overwhelmed by the magnitude of his feelings for you.

The thought crosses your mind as you gaze at Joel in the bathroom mirror. How could someone be this beautiful, so full of love? There's a sense of wonder and awe in the realization that he must be made of something different than you. It's as if he were crafted from a completely different mold, his very being designed to possess and express such a profound depth of affection.

The thought that Joel must have a heart crafted from the most delectable materials, like honeycomb, chocolate, and candy, almost seems to perfectly describe his sweetness. It's as if his love and affection are so pure and genuine that they could only have originated from something so utterly, irresistibly sweet.

There's a sense of wonder in the idea that such a heart could exist, one that radiates such a powerful, honeyed goodness.

After you and Joel have finished showering, you find yourselves in bed, his hands exploring the curves and lines of your face with a tender, almost reverent touch. His eyes sparkle with a mix of affection and wonder, his gaze fixed upon you as if you are the most precious thing in the world. It's as if he can barely believe that you are real, the touch of his fingers tracing over your skin filled with a soft, awed wonder.

His confession reaches your ears as you're on the cusp of sleep. His hand gently caresses your head, his touch soothing and calming. Joel's voice is soft, a quiet murmur as he whispers, "I think I want you to move in with me," a vulnerable, tender admission.

Your eyes open as he speaks, a rush of surprise and wonder washing over you. You meet his gaze, his soft smile making him look like an angel in the dim, warm glow of the outside lamp as it filters through the window by the bed. Your heart skips a beat as you take in his expression, the tenderness and vulnerability in his eyes.

As you gaze into his eyes, his soft smile and tender expression like a heavenly apparition, the words 'no' or 'maybe' don't cross your mind. The thought of turning him down, of refusing an offer so heartfelt and sincere, seems impossible.

Even though he's a broken soul, a fallen angel in some sense, there is still a radiant beauty in him. In that moment, you feel as if saying 'yes' is the only option, as if your very soul is responding to the pull of his love.

In that moment, as you nod in agreement, his lips gently meet yours. The kiss is soft and sweet. It feels as if a lock has clicked into place, solidifying your decision and cementing your commitment to this new step in your relationship.

His lips, soft and tender against yours, seem to confirm the fanciful notion that he must be made of all things sweet. The taste of him, the way he kisses, everything about his mouth feels like a sweet, delectable treat, addictive and irresistible.

You can't help but let out a soft, breathless chuckle into the kiss.

When he pulls back, he looks at you with amusement in his eyes, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“What?” He huffs.

“You’re just- sweet.”

Joel lets out a low, melodramatic groan, rolling his eyes before he turns onto his back, pulling you with him. You settle against his side, your hand instinctively finding its place on his chest, right over his heart.

The steady ticking of the clock and the faint, constant hum of the traffic on the highway outside fill the room with a soft, ambient soundtrack. Joel's breathing deepens and slows, the rise and fall of his chest steady and predictable. For a moment, you think he's asleep, but then you hear a soft mumble, a barely audible murmur passing his lips.

“You make me sweet.”

Notes

This has been in the drafts for months – don’t look at me. Coming back to this lil one shot series as they’re so sickly in love and deserve my attention. Also I had no intention of them moving in together but then suddenly Joel says that and well- he gets what he wants lol.

[patricia-taxxon]

i agree with your points on rhythm game charts having one set difficulty but i wanna know how you feel about rhythm game “fail” mechanics

gone back and forth on this, i'm gonna say its bad. poor scores are punishment enough, rhythm games evoke the fun of tapping along to music while you listen to it, and it's not like it should just stop if you misstep. there's exceptions, i love the fail mechanics in thumper, but in that game your interactions are the source of every sound in the game pretty much, so the music really does stop if you stop.

[spideyanakin]

always remember us this way (e.m)

summary - corroded coffin member!reader, what if you wrote 'always remember us this way' for Eddie Munson?

warnings - sad ending, star is born vibes im sry :(, mention of sex

word count: 7.3k

thank you @inknopewetrust for proof reading some bits <3

back to main masterlist

eddie munson masterlist

That passion in your heart, burnin' in your eyes.

You fiddled with your pen as you watched Eddie from the other corner of the classroom. He was somewhere else; eyes distant and removed from the room you both occupied with 25 other bored souls. Mrs. Click was a drag. Her red manicured hands gripped the white chalk as it scratched the green stone.

The sound pulled him out of his stupor. He mumbled something incoherently and drew his pencil onto his paper. 

On the other side of the room, you couldn’t focus at all. 

A tune was haunting you. It was singing in the back of your mind as the melody began to swim around you. The notes of a song begging to be put onto a page and heard around the world. It was all you could think about; refrains coming to you two days ago when the boy across the room was six-feet-deep in a game of Dig Dug on your last date at the arcade.

A rhythm that you couldn't get out of your skin.

The mix of game chants and arcade music melted into one beat that you ended up humming all night. Fingers mindlessly drumming on the side of machines every time Eddie played his turn. 

You knew that when night fell, Eddie could sense you had music dancing in your mind. It was what brought you two together, after all. The melodies of songs that shaped a life; how stories could express feeling without ever feeling too vulnerable. Eddie knew the sensation all too well. For many a night he had been the victim of that vacant expression and mindless humming of the same few lines over and over.

You were so lost in the tune that when Eddie’s turn was over and he had been defeated for the ten millionth time that evening, his eyes burning a hole into your head hadn’t even fazed you. There you were, half leaning against the machine with eyes glazed over on the odd shapes and colors that danced on the carpet your polished shoes touched. Perhaps you could see the lyrics on the floor. The shapes and colors filled with blues and yellows jumped from their home and painted a score above. 

He called your name once. He called it twice. 

"What are you thinking about?" 

Eddie leaned on the machine’s panel that separated him from you, whispering the words in your ear. The light from Dig Dug illuminated his profile. He belonged in a place like this. A place where he could be free and seen and heard. No bands needth play when the song of Eddie Munson’s eyes filled your soul with warmth. Goosebumps passed through you. You blinked away the music from your mind and caught his gaze. 

He was looking at you with so much love you thought you were about to burst. Leaning so close you could see the tiny sparks of gold in his eyes.

One of his hands came to hold yours, reaching up with his ring-clad fingers to play with the bracelet he had gifted you two weeks before–a dark blue band with mini skulls braided in. It screamed Eddie and that's probably why you loved it so much. He had never seen you take it off since he had gifted it, and it made a small smile appear on his lips each time he saw it where it was meant to be.

And that's when the first piece of lyrics came into mind.

'You look at me and, babe, I wanna catch on fire'

When the words started fitting together in your mind, you could feel the way it made you flustered—heat creeping up your neck and traveling up to your cheeks.

You really did feel like you were about to catch on fire that evening.

Two days later, in the desks of Mrs. Click’s class, you tapped your pen on the back of your hand as it rested over a loose-leaf sheet of paper that had scribbled lyrics that kept popping up. It was like catching butterflies with the words. They came and went, difficult to grasp and hold onto if you didn’t have a pen handy. 

That passion in your heart, burnin' in your eyes

You look at me and, babe, I wanna catch on fire

It's buried in my soul, like California gold

You found the light in me that I couldn't find

The words “CHORUS” were written in sloppy big letters in the middle of the page. You scratched your head with the back of your pen, pouting as you tried to reach unknown corners of your brain for any kind of inspiration.

You had been on literal fire writing the first stanza. The words flowed freely and quickly and without remorse that perhaps it was cheesy that a boy in high school who you envisioned a life with had inspired those lyrics. 

When you look at me and I can't find the words

When the sun goes down,

And the clouds all fade

You looked back to Eddie in hopes something would appear. He was the reason for the song, the whole why as to why those words had made their way to the page in the first place. You watched as he scribbled something of his own, dropping his pencil onto his own desk before suddenly turning his head around and meeting your eyes.

It would be a lie to say that you weren’t caught off guard. Seized in the midst of your contemplation, in mid quest to squeeze any more inspiration out of the being that was Eddie Munson.

He smirked, mouthing something but you couldn’t do anything back. You could barely make out his words. He made you all choked up. Your cheeks started to burn again at the simple thought of him. His smirk, his pretty face… it all disappeared as he turned his head back around.

 He really had to choose now to be a good student?

You munched on the tip of your pencil before eying your page again. And as a light went off, you felt like scribbling something new. 

So when I'm all choked up

When you look at me and I can't find the words.

~

"You keep staring lately." 

Eddie took you by surprise, making you jump as he appeared behind you and laid his  chin on your shoulder.

"I always stare… you’re my boyfriend, Eds," you pointed out, tightening your grip on your piece of paper where your lyrics had been written—hoping he wouldn’t see it.

"Then there’s something different to your stare," he offered, leaving his place at your shoulder to step in front of you.

You grinned, shaking your head and smiling before leaning in for a kiss.

There was something so cheesy about being one of those couples you had once snickered about in the halls. Love had not reached you then. It hadn’t filled every part of your being with the pure adrenaline and immense pleasure it could provide by looking at the one you loved. It had never been obvious to you before that what those people had, you now did too and it was something you would never trade for the world. 

"Maybe it’s just because you’ve finally realized how desperately in love I am," you whispered against his lips and Eddie thought he could melt right there. He too had felt that love. He knew the Earth could swallow him whole and he would fly up to a heaven knowing that the girl of his dreams had loved him back. 

Instead of answering with words, he brushed a strand of hair that had fallen onto your forehead, gently pressing a new kiss to your lips.

"I love you so much" he breathed out, leaning against you as your foreheads touched. The bell sounded–the passing period was over. Eddie backed away, raised his arm to lay over your shoulders and the two of you bounded off to class for the fifth hour of the day.

~

Eddie's bed was filled with random papers, scattered pencils, and mini figurines—your two bodies mingled in the middle of it all. Your chin rested on his bare chest while your legs were tangled up together.

You watched him frown as he dropped the paper he was holding and blindly tried to find another one. He wiggled under you in an attempt to fetch a half-crumpled piece of paper from the other corner of the bed, succeeding after a minute of struggle.

You chuckled at his theatrics. He was never one for subtlety. He moved the paper away from his face to meet your eyes and grin back at you.

"How's that campaign going?" You murmured, almost too scared to break the silence.

For the past thirty minutes, the only noise that could be heard were the rustling of the trees and the uneven buzzing of the fridge coming from the living room mixed with yours and Eddie's pencils scribbling on paper.

It all started an hour and a half ago, when you both couldn't sleep. You thought that maybe tearing each other's clothes off and moaning the other’s names would have been enough to put you to sleep—but there you were at 2 am, after having cooked a box of cheap mac and cheese that had been bought so long ago it expired in a week. You were wearing the shirt he had been wearing that day while he was just in his boxers.

You still felt guilty for laughing at him when hot cheese splashed onto his chest, slightly burning him. You had been a laughing mess when you scolded him for not wearing a shirt while cooking. It was dangerous, you had to chuckle at the act as it was so abundantly Eddie. 

But now the bowls rested empty in the sink and Eddie was focusing on his campaign while you continued to think of the song that haunted your very being. The melody wasn’t catching. The lyrics weren’t forming and the ones that had stuck, from earlier that morning, loomed over your head like a big raincloud. 

Sleep was still far from both your eyes.

"It’s going well," he beamed, lifting his head while you perched yourself off him to steal a kiss.

You leaned back into the position you were in and watched as he began to work again. He grabbed a D&D figurine from the box he had almost fully emptied on the bed minutes prior. He inspected it, trying to find any specific detail that could be scoured for ideas before diving back into his paper and scribbling something new.

You couldn’t keep your eyes away from his face. To the way his tongue slipped between his lips in focus, or how he drew in his eyebrows, and tapped the tip of his pencil to his temple.

He scrunched up his nose before using the little space left on his chest next to your head to erase his scribbling.

You sighed in content. Tracing circles on his skin with your free hand, you had to force your eyes away from his face to look back at your page of writing.

The lyrics slowly began to take shape. The melody wished to fly from your mind and out from your lips, the tune familiar to him. Eddie had heard it for two days straight and couldn’t place it. He knew it was new. He knew it was original.

Your hums broke Eddie's train of thought and he brought his attention back to you, a figurine still in his hand as the pencil wavered in the other. 

"You keep humming this tune lately. I don’t recognize it," he spoke. 

You felt the joy of songwriting leap from you. There was a grin on your face that threatened to hurt your face. You were certain that you were smiling so hard that the strain in your cheeks was unnatural. 

"That's because I made it up,” you admitted. “It came to me that night at the arcade." 

Eddie's face lit up. He dropped the paper he was holding to give you his full attention. Everything in his hands disappeared and found refuge on the floor. 

"I've started writing lyrics to it as well," before you could even try and say something else, anything else to sell him your song, he was already wiggling himself away from the bed and walking to his guitars scattered around the room. 

He didn’t have much, but what he had was certainly enough. 

"Electric or Acoustic?" He asked, hand on his hips as he pointed to his most precious possessions.

"Acoustic… It’s 2 am, Eds, you don’t want to wake the whole trailer park," you chuckled.

"Who said I was plugging in an amp?" He turned to you, eyebrow quirked high in judgment before you gave him a flat face. He was joking. 

"I'm still going to pick Acoustic," he rolled his eyes before grabbing his black guitar and settling with it on the carpet.

He waited until you followed him. Eddie patted the floor in front of him as if to say, ‘hurry up, we haven’t got all night.’ So, you sat right in front of him with your paper delicately placed between the two of you. Lyrics now exposed to the world, the melody was beginning to be strummed without rhyme nor reason, just talent and the sheer excitement of producing something new. 

"What’s it about?" He questioned aloud as he started fiddling with the strings and pegs.

"You.” 

Eddie’s fingers froze in place. Head raising to meet your eyes, his face brightened and he gave you his best grin before muttering:

"Will you sing it for me?"

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as they caught the lyrics. 

"Ok," you cleared your throat before reaching for the paper on the floor. You already knew the lyrics. They had been burned into your soul by this point because it’s the only thing you’ve been able to think about for 48 hours. But, you needed something to distract you from his burning gaze. "You ready?" 

“To hear you sing? Always,” you blushed. His hands were already clasping his guitar, impatient to hear you.

"Also, it's far from being finished–"

“Sweetheart,” Eddie let out a breath,  “just sing,”

“Alright,” you shifted on your spot "Ok,"

"Ok," Eddie repeated with a smile. Nodding, as if to tell you everything was going to be just fine.

"That passion in your heart,” you sang in the way you imagined you could hear it on the guitar. The rhythm and the pacing; all of it was to be done without the chords but the silence of the room and the tonal shifts in your voice. 

“Burnin' in your eyes. You look at me and, babe, I wanna catch on fire,” your head was low, eyes fixed on your lyrics as Eddie's jaw almost dropped to the floor, his heart beating in his ears.

"It's buried in my soul, like California gold, you found the light in me that I couldn't find," he thought he was going to melt right there on the carpet of his bedroom floor as the words sunk in.

"So when I'm all choked up, but I can't find the words," you raised your melody, knowing you hadn't any lyrics to this part yet. You weren’t sure what would fill the space when your mind stopped working and all that was left was the loud, thumping of your heart and a mind that raced to find the words that Eddie Munson made you feel. 

"When the sun goes down and the clouds all fade," you let out a bit more, until you stopped and finally gathered the courage to stare up at him as the words disappeared from mind. 

"I think I've found lyrics for the next verse, but I'm not sure yet," you commented, dropping the paper on the ground again, meeting Eddie’s starstruck eyes with clarity. 

You waited for him to say something, anything, that would make your anxiety about sharing this piece of work with him go away. But when he didn’t reply, his eyes just stared wide at you, mouth agape, heat climbed up to your cheeks and you suddenly felt shy. 

"So… what do you think?" you barely mumbled under your breath. 

"Are you sure this is really about me?" He asked, jolted that someone would write a passionate song about him.

"Yes, silly!" you took the lyrics on that loose-leaf sheet of paper and slapped at his chest lightly. "You've been judging me for staring at you too much lately! I'm sorry to say, but you inspire me and if staring at you is going to get me to write, then I’ll do it forever." 

A bright smile appeared on his lips and before you knew it, his guitar was on the floor and he was kissing you.

"What's the next verse?" He muttered in between kisses, hovering over you as you reached to get the paper back. 

"Tonight's scenery," your eyes scanned over the page and back to his eyes. You never wanted to look away from them, pools of honey that melted with his love for you. They were softened by his smile, you had to steal another kiss before you could read the rest to him.

"Lovers in the night, poets tryin' to write, we don't know how to rhyme, but damn we try"

"How are you so damn good at writing?"

"Because you inspired me," you tucked a rogue curl behind his ear.

"We’ve got to show this to the rest of the band!"

"It's not finished though!" you shrieked at the possibility of those boys witnessing this song in its incomplete nature. "It's far from being finished!"

"That's alright!” Eddie brushed it aside. “We can at least work on the melody with them if you'd like? We don't have to show them the words just yet."

He was so sincere. So honest and considerate. It made those words jittery on your fingertips; an itch to write again and put down more of what Eddie meant to you. 

“Ok,” you nodded at him, a smile of your own creeping its way onto your face. “That would work.” 

~

“This is useless,” Gareth pointed out, throwing his drumsticks to the floor and tugging at his hair. “Without Eddie were never going to get the proper rhythm, no offence Y/n.”

“Non-taken,” you shrugged, biting your lip as you looked down to your instrument. 

It was a cheap blue and pink electric guitar you had gotten two christmas’s ago. It suddenly felt heavy, hanging by the strap wrapped around one shoulder. It wasn’t as near powerful or clean sounding as Eddie’s ‘second sweetheart’. The notes didn’t sound as graceful and as Rock’N’Roll as his warlock did. Your fingers tapped on the side of it, you occasionally played it as a backup for Eddie’s, never even attempted to lead using it. 

It didn’t make the situation any better that you didn’t know how to play like Eddie, and that factor seem to aggravate the mood even more.

You knew that if Eddie had been absent with a reason, it wouldn’t have affected this rehearsal one bit. You had practiced multiple times without him before: like when he got caught up in detention or what ever odd side quests Eddie Munson was up to that week.

But this time, something was wrong and it was buzzing in the dusty Hawkins air, slithering through the streets and making people double lock their doors at night and barely leaving their homes. The paranoia was becoming unsettling, and it was starting to bubble in the stuffy air of Gareth’s garage.

Eddie had gone missing for two days now, he had left you soon after your last campaign, and you hadn’t seen him since. It didn’t help that Wayne Munson wouldn’t answer your calls and that Dustin Henderson refused to answer any of your questions. He’d told you a vague ‘He’s alright, don’t worry’, before scurrying off and getting into Steve Harrigton’s car, leaving with unanswered questions and mixed feelings.

No one wanted to tell you the truth and you had gotten answers from no one. 

The rest of the band knew as little as you did. 

There had been a murder at the trailer park, and Eddie had gone missing.

You also knew it wouldn’t be long before the police came at your doorstep to ask you about Eddie. You were just grateful Wayne hadn’t let your name slip.

Great.

Just great. 

“You know what,” you spoke up, breaking the heavy silence. “Let’s just cancel band practice today,” you removed the guitar strap from your shoulders, heading to put it back in your case. “I don’t think any of us can focus.”

“Yeah,” the boys muttered, watching you leave without another word. 

They all knew this was taking a toll on you, and all felt like they could use a good rest anyways. 

You missed Jason, his gang and Lucas by luck that day.

~

“Hey, do you hear that?” Eddie jumped, a faint whisper of a voice making the hair on his arm spike, goosebumps tumbling down his spine. 

The upsidedown was already a creepy place, and the last thing Eddie needed was whispers to start haunting him–he seriously didn’t know how much longer he could last in this place.

“Hear what?” Nancy turned, her torchlight lighting up Eddie’s face.

“I thought I heard a whisper,” Eddie muttered, eyes squinting from the light aggression. 

“Didn’t hear anything,” Robin concluded and continued her walk through the dodgy forest.

Eddie recognised this place, they were already far from lover’s lake and were almost by the main road, not far from where you lived. 

He bit his lip as he thought of you. He hated not telling you anything, but he knew it was to protect you. He couldn’t risk that the the evil he was wittnissing first hand to get to you, or hurt you in any way. He knew he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if anything were to happen.

“Eddie,”

He jumped like a startled cat, the whisper had been clear, sharper. 

“This time you guys must have heard it too!” He whined, gulping when everyone turned around with annoyed looks on their faces.

“Litsen, we’re not going to make it far if you keep stopping because you think you heard something!” Steve grumbled towards the metalhead, the aggravated look on his face becoming more serious. Steve’s hand was impatiently resting on his hip, now covered by Eddie’s battle jacket.

“I don’t think! I heard it loud and clear!” Eddie spoke up, matching Steve’s tone. “It called my name.”

“Great, now were loosing Eddie!” Robin whined before taking a step towards him and snapping her fingers in front of his face. “Get it together, Munson! We have to find a way out of here!”

“Right, sorry,” Eddie shook his head and continued his walk, pushing away what ever was happening to him–and ignoring the unknown whispers that nagged at his ear.

“Eddie please, answer me,” your fingers gripped the side of your talkie, in hopes that maybe, just maybe he would answer you. 

But by the fourth time you called, the talkie unwinglingly dropped from your hand, tumbling from your bed to find a new home on the carpet of your bedroom floor. 

Eddie had been missing for four days.  

Four days of escaping Jason, four days of trying to squeeze an answer out of anyone. 

“Eds, where are you?” You whispered to yourself, closing your eyes as your head fell straight into your pillow, clutching it at your side as you tried not to cry.

You hadn’t left your room today, only muttering a thank you to your mom for lying to Jason when he came at your door, again.

Things were leading to nowhere and the rumours were doing nothing good for your spiralling thoughts.

You lifted your head up from your pillow, sighing as your eyes caught a polaroid of you and Eddie. It had been taken by Gareth right after one of your gigs at The Hideout. You remembered Eddie asking you to do his eyeliner a few hours prior. You had neatly applied it all around his eyes as if he had been Billy Idol prepping for a concert, but after shredding his guitar like freaking Jimmy Hendrix on that small crooked stage, he looked more like a slanky raccoon than a rockstar.

His arm was wrapped around your shoulders, your hair was as wild as Eddie’s, going all over the place from the hour of performing. Both your eyes sparkled with some kind of after show high, but yours held something else entierly as you looked at Eddie. You looked so in love it only reminded you how much you cared about him.

About how much he means to you.

Stop. You decided it was enough sulking for one day. Swinging your legs on the side of your bed, socked feet touching your soft carpet before you snatched your notebook and pen from your nightstand, throwing it on the floor before taking your acoustic guitar from it’s spot on your wall. Your eyes barely caught the ‘This machine slays dragons’, spray painted in pink–done by Eddie himself on a rainy afternoon.

You sighed as you crossed your legs, resting the guitar on the edges of your thighs before starting to tune it, mindlessly twisting the pegs as you tride to push the ache from your heart away–maybe even channel it into words and music. 

You opened your notebook, hoping to find something to save you, but it was just a reminder. The song still rested on the white pages, words mending together in pretty loops of letters. You had almost finished it before he vanished, and even if writing music had been the last thing on Corroded Coffin’s mind, it was the only thing that could keep you from spirialing. The only thing that kept you sane in this mess of a situation. 

The page you were staring at had been wrinkled by your aggressive erasing during the past few days. The pencil writing of your most recent words were already smudged from the tears and constant doubting on the way it sounded with your melody.

But all I really know, you're where I wanna go, 

And maybe, just maybe if you had told him these words before you would know where he is. Maybe you’d be with him and help him sort through this mess.

 ~

A week.

A week of silence.

And Hawkins had crumbled under your feet.

Your grip tightened on the cardboard box filled with clothes to donate. You had gone alone–sent by your mother who had been too busy to go herself. You tried to calm down your nerves as you walked in through the large double doors of the gymnasium. You didn’t know why anxiety was munching at your stomach, threatening to swallow you whole–but the bad feeling was rising in your chest and you couldn’t push the intuition away.

You caught a glimpse of Dustin talking to Wayne, frowning when the conversation didn’t look very joyous. Dustin had his fist closed, handing something you couldn’t see from that far to the older man sitting in front of him.

“You should give it to her yourself,” Wayne mumbled, pushing away the boy’s hand away. 

Dustin blinked, shock seeping through him at the suggestion. God he didn’t know how he would even tell you.

And just like that Dustin found your eyes. You were already looking at him from the distance–eyes wide in silent question–maybe also fear; he couldn’t be sure, he couldn’t know until he actually talked to you. 

He gulped.

Dustin’s face held nothing but anguish and the closer he was to you the better you could see the tear stains on his cheeks and the slight glaze in his eyes.

He didn’t have to even speak. He didn’t even need to voice it–the look in his eyes said everything that needed to be said.

Tears prickled at your eyes and you felt the sudden erge to throw up. The feeling rose and your heart physically started to ache–was that what grief felt like? Was that the feeling that came crashing onto your body like waves onto cliffs.

You didn’t even know what Dustin had said. It was all a distant echo, a distant voice in a parallel reality–muffled by the way your body’s reaction.

You caught some words. Sentences that didn’t ease the feeling.

‘He talked about you t’il the end.’

‘He didn’t want to put you in danger.’

‘He really, really loved you.’

‘He left this for you’

You didn’t know how long ago he had left. How long you had been standing there–Eddie’s pick necklace resting against your palm. 

But it was long enough for you to register the sudden feeling of loneliness, washed up from the storm on the shores of your mind. 

Your other half was gone.

~

"This is um- the song" You zipped up your bag, slipping out the tear-stained paper you had spent the last few days blankly staring at. Maybe hoping it would bring him back.

Jeff grabbed it without a word, giving you a tight smile. You could see he had been crying too.

You looked away as his eyes started shifting across the paper. You looked at the small window of Gareth's garage, the sunset bringing the rays of golden hour across the musty room.

If he had been here, everyone would have taken a break and you would all be watching the sunset. You'd be wrapped in his arms giggling to some dumb joke he made about whatever was on his mind.

But that wasn't the case.

And everything felt so dull now.

You looked around. You were slouched onto an old green bean bag chair, the one you and Eddie would fight over every single band practice, but now he wasn’t there to fight you for it–you had the dirty, half empty and wrapped up in duck tape poor exuse for a sagbag all to yourself. The used up thing didn’t even look appealing anymore, and you hoped Gareth would throw it away for your sake. 

The garage’s owner was blankly staring at his cymbals, drum sticks barely hanging from his hand and threatening to drop on the carpet. He looked like hell, not much of a difference from his band mates if you were honest.

Jeff's bass was hanging low around his shoulders as he read, tears nudging at his eyes.

"You- you wrote this?" The strain in his voice was evident. "For Eddie?"

"I wrote it with Eddie, but I want to change a lyric, before we um, do anything with it."

"Yeah go ahead," he blinked the shock out of his eyes.

The lyrics felt so beautiful, so magical. To him, you and Eddie had been nothing but one of those high school couples that would either go on to get married, just to have that classic white picket fence life or end up breaking up before graduation. Nothing more, nothing less.

But as he looked at you wiping tears off your cheeks he realized it was so much more, and it had always been so much more.

The both of you were never going to fall into either of these two options. The two of you had always been the odds one out of the pack, the whole of Hawkins had been a witness to they way your crazy minds worked–but your relationship didn’t just hold on your similarities. The two of you had been in love, truly in love. Like the type of love Aragorn and Arwen shared, or the one in the stupid movies channel six passed on friday nights. The ones poets wrote about and people died for. 

You were meant to be rock stars together as you crossed the world. The two of you were supposed to be the pillars of this band, the glue that would hold everything and see members come and go. He didn’t know why it took him all this mess to realise. 

"You want to read it?" You looked at Gareth who looked up from his drum set with a blank expression.

"I'd rather hear you sing," he muttered.

"Alright,” you cleared your throat. "Can you-" You were about to ask if he could play the guitar for you but remembered that was Eddie's job. Jeff played bass, and Gareth was on the drums. "Nevermind," you took the decision on your own–you’d do it accapella.

You weren’t bad at guitar, you knew how too strum a few simple chords, but you weren’t Eddie.

"When the sun goes down" your voice cracked and you had to close your eyes to keep focus "and the band won't play," your words felt heavy in the room, and a sad smile adorned Jeff's lips. "I'll always remember us this way," you continued, and suddenly Gareth started playing the rhythm that you had rehearsed two weeks prior. Jeff started on the bass, and as they started duetting–your eyes fell upon Eddie's guitar.

You picked it up.

You grabbed the guitar from the corner of the room, hanging it on your shoulders and attempting to keep singing as you plugged it in the brand new Marshall amp–a gift from Gareth’s mom to the band. 

You thought that maybe Eddie would be proud–proud of all of you for continuing music even if he wasn’t there.

"Lovers in the night," Gareth picked up the pace on the drums, and you desperately tried to follow the rhythm, hanging on to what Eddie had taught you. "Poets tryin' to write, we don't know how to rhyme, but damn we try," it took everything for you not to cry. “But all I really know, you're where I wanna go," You closed your eyes in anticipation of the next line, the one you had written just yesterday, "the part of me that's you will never die"

"So when I'm all choked up, and I can't find the words" Eddie was peering up at you with the brightest smile you had ever seen. "Every time we say goodbye, baby, it hurts" Your fingers glided over the guitar strings, Eddie knew you were fully into the song but he just had to stop you.

"What?" You smiled as his hand reached the guitar and his other your cheek.

"I cannot believe you wrote that about me"

You giggled, "is that so bad about?"

"I love you," you could have stared at the giddy smile across his face for ever.

"I love you too,"

"And I love the new lyrics, please continue, I'm sorry I've cut you off" He sealed the moment with a kiss, before leaning away and sitting patiently in front of you again.

"When the sun goes down, and the band won't play," the memory was cut by you opening your eyes again.

The sun might have been setting a beautiful color upon the walls, but the garage felt so much darker without him. Without his voice.

"I'll always remember us this way"

~

"So what inspired you to write this song?" The interviewer pursed her lips before settling her papers back onto her lap, fixing her glasses before staring back to you.

You looked down at your skull bracelet, sad smile forming upon your lips.

"Isn't it obvious?" You quirked an eyebrow, hiding behind humor to stop the bubbling feelings.

"Love?" She smiled back and you nodded your head. You wanted this conversation to end like it usually did. You always gave the same answer; Love.

The same music with cheeky gazes and smiles always followed;

‘Is it anyone we know?’ 

‘Is he in the band?’

‘Are they famous?’

‘Are you in a relationship?’

You never answered. Gareth, Jeff or the latest addition to the band would change the subject–but as the crowds grew, so did their curiosity. You knew you couldn't hide from the eyes of the public much longer.

"Yes, but we all want to know more,” she urged on, her tone staying sweet and comprehending. “You once said it was one of Corroded Coffin's most personal songs if I’m not mistaken." 

There it was. You were alone–no boys to help you change the subject with a joke or random statement about the song. You looked at your shoes for a brief instant; maybe trying to sum up the courage and push away the feeling of dread. Attempt to mend the hole in your heart, just for a few minutes. After this you could leave back to your hotel room and find a way to drown your sorrows.

When you didn’t reply, she continued.

"I can't help but notice that there's a certain sadness to the lyrics?"

She hit the bull's eye.

"Well," You looked up, meeting her gaze. Maybe it was the unspoken comprehension of a woman towards another–the subconscious bond that created itself just by your similar place in the world that made you more comfortable to share. Maybe it was what caused her to spot the hidden meaning–or maybe it was just her journalist mind that picked the song apart, ready to latch onto any information you were ready to hand over.

"What people don't usually realize is that the song takes a turn,” you shifted uncomfortable in your seat–you had never gotten this personal in an interview before. "It starts out as this love song. Two soulmates who can't believe they've found each other," Eddie's pick necklace felt burning hot against your chest, the ring you had slid on the chain too–a diamond ring that belonged to Eddie’s grandmother. 

You remembered the moment you had discovered it. You were going through Eddie’s room accompanied by Wayne, trying to naviagte around the ruins of the trailer and scavenge for anything that was left plausible to use or donate. Boxes of random objects and clothes laid in between all the mess and you had already managed to find his guitar–releif when it was in perfect condition, left untouch by the damages of the earthquake. Which now hung on your living room wall, preciously behind a glass frame.

Your attention had been caught on the broken closet while Wayne was going through the drawers of the small desk. The earthquake had broken one of its feet; making half of the drawers hang open with clothes tumbling out of it. You had organized his shirts and jeans already–piling up the ones you could keep and the ones you could give away or give to the corroded coffin boys to share upon themselves.

Your fingers gripped the handle of the third drawer–and you'd only realize this after but it was probably the last time you’d have any a glimpse of sanity in your bones; if you had even any sanity left since he passed away.

If you were honest with yourself you didn’t even really know what this drawer contained. He had never really opened it in front of you and you couldn’t say that you had much curiosity towards it before. You half expected it to be his sock drawer–but your breath caught in your throat when you slid it open.

A collection of souvenirs–mainly of you, laid at the bottom of the hard wood. Photos, souvenirs, concert tickets, boxes with what you assumed even more trinkets and things he collected since the start of your relationship.

You gulped in a pour attempt to push the tears away. 

You started sorting through the collection papers and polaroids–everything bringing memories that were dug deep into your brain’s memory, hidden behind other memories of Eddie. You already knew you’d keep everything, probably throw everything in a box and sort it out in the comfort of your own room–when Wayne wasn’t there to see you crumble even more as you gazed upon Eddie’s collection.

There was a mediumish wooden black box nestled in the far corner of the drawer, and it immediately caught your attention–like something pulling you towards it, screaming for your acknowledgment.

The box wasn’t heavy in your hand, it almost looked like the boxes Eddie used to store his extra special drugs and you expected that to be the content. Eddie hid drugs everywhere in the trailer in a poor attempt at covering up the fact that he wasn’t a drug dealer in his spare time. That if the Hopper or some other dumb officer ever came around they couldn’t possibly find everything he hid. 

But even if there was, most probably a zip-lock bag with some kind of funky psychedelic powder or pills hidden inside–you still wanted to be sure. You fiddled with the unlocked buckle, and pushed the lid open; but you were met with no drugs. 

Instead there was another black box. A small squared box draped in black velvet. You frowned, it… couldnt be? No. You refused to even think about the idea–this was again probably one of Eddie’s weird drug hiding spots.

This must have been something even more special than the special K.

With trembling hands you grabbed it, fingers wrapping around the top of the box and popping it open.

You blinked, all words dying in the back of your throat. You didn’t trust your voice, but your mind had talked at loud on it’s own.

“Um, Wayne?” Your voice was definitely shaking, and he immediately turned to face you. “Do- um- what- huh-” You couldn’t formulate a proper sentence, and you watched Wayne’s expression soften when his eyes caught what was in your hands. 

His mother’s engagement ring.

“So that’s where the little devil’s kept it,” Wayne almost laughed, almost chuckled at the absurdity of the unworldly situation. Your frown deepened and your heart raced to your ears, you couldn’t formulate one single thought and Wayne seemed to take notice because he continued, “we found it in a box a few months ago, Eddie was adamant of keeping it,” Wayne weighed out his words, wondering if he should continue. He knew well enough this was going to break you even more, but now that Eddie was gone, he couldn’t keep the subject of his conversations with his nephew to himself, “to give it to you someday.”

Wayne had insisted that you kept it. That it was meant for you and that he’d have no use of it–that it would be collecting dust in a drawer when Eddie wanted you to have it, when Eddie had kept it stored in the back of his closet for you.

You had worn it on your ring finger for months–as if he had actually given it to you himself. As if he had made it past graduation and got down on one knee, locking your lives together forever.

Gareth had caught you speaking of him one too many times at bars. You would have one drink too many, some guy had probably made a move and you shoved your hand towards his face, drunkenly rambling a life you wished had been real.

But your drunken and fuzzy mind always caught up with the fact that you were lying. That your fiance wasn’t really on a trip and you weren't just at a bar with your best friends to celebrate being engaged and soon to be married- and that's when the tears became uncontrollable.

Gareth-the usually sober one often found himself attempting to dry your tears, trying to sober you up on the floor of the dodgy tour bus or in some hidden corner of the bar if the bus had already been taken hostage by Jeff and his latest conquest.

But when fame rolled down at your doorstep you had to remove the ring from your finger to keep any unwanted rumors away.

And right now you couldn’t just open your room’s mini fridge to scavenge for anything that could take the pain away from your chest, you had to continue that interview.

"But then the song becomes a requiem," you continued, trying to keep your voice from wavering. You watched the interviewer face almost fall, her mouth opening into an 'o' as she pieced up the lyrics together.

You thanked the stars she was being respectful, maybe even understood.

Soon enough the interview was finished, and neither Jeff nor Gareth or the world was ready for what you did the next time you stood on stage. 

Because for the first time in years you spoke his name.

For the first time, you told the world who this song was about.