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look-at-the-soul · 2 months

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Every little thing you do- Prologue

Tommy Shelby x reader (Mini series)

Summary: Y/N has been Tommy’s best friend since childhood. She had always been there for him when he needed her the most. Now as the Shelby family are in a better position, Y/N will need Tommy’s support when something she didn’t expect happens.

A/N welcome to this little new adventure! This story started as an idea @lyarr24 shared a while ago and I just stared at it for a few minutes until the ideas started “appearing” in my mind. This particular part turned somehow into a comedy show on its own 😂🤭 it was fun and light to write, but it’s going to get angsty… thank you for sharing your unique ideas as usual! It took me some time but I’m always into giving each story it’s own time. And of course @justrainandcoffee thank you for creating this beautiful moodboard for this story! You totally nailed it!

Word count: 2,196

Arriving at the Garrison, Y/N headed straight towards the private booth where the Shelby’s were reunited.

“You should’ve seen the look in Polly’s eyes when she found out we were buying the stallion.” John cracked and threw his head back with a loud laugh.

Arthur winked at Y/N and decided to mess with his brother.

“Erm John boy.” He cleared his throat, just as Tommy gave Y/N a smirk, they were both sitting facing the door unlike John who had his back at it.

Tommy used the chance to kick his youngest brother in the shin, as a warning.

“So you think it’s fucking hilarious John Michael Shelby.” Y/N imitated Polly’s voice and mannerisms perfectly.

John’s face paled as the smile left his face and he straightened his back.

Arthur snorted and then started laughing uncontrollably as John turned around to find Y/N standing by the door.

“Shit! Y/N you scared the fuck out of me.”

“Get in here sweetheart.” Arthur called for her, making room next to him. “That was brilliant, you’ve got a talent.”

“You sound just like her.” Ada praised, leaning over the table to kiss her cheek.

“You’re late.” Tommy offered her a glass of whiskey.

Taking a sip, she nodded. “The lady I work for had a terrible day, didn’t want me to leave.” She replied titling her head to the side because Arthur was right in the middle, sandwiched between her and Tommy.

“And how did it go?” He asked over the laughs of his siblings.

“My feet are killing me, I had to walk all the way back… but I really needed a drink tonight.

“Why? Scott didn’t pick you up?” He raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

Against his best judgment, he agreed to give Y/N’s boyfriend a place among the peaky men. He didn’t like or trusted him but he was doing it for Y/N and the friendship they’ve always had. Over time, he even gave Scott a car under the condition to drop and pick up Y/N from her work every day.

“We had an argument this morning, he got pissed and I asked him to not.” She lied.

She knew how protective Tommy could get, specially around Scott. They were already past the phase where Tommy would’ve to intervene and put her boyfriend in his place, then Scott would come for her arguing that she let that gangster say and do whatever he pleased.

But Tommy knew Y/N better than that, and this wasn’t the first time she lied to cover for her boyfriend’s attitude.

“What’s so funny?” Polly demanded to know as she joined them in the booth. Staring at Arthur and John’s faces she knew, so she shot Y/N a long look. “You’re imitating me again?!”

The Shelby brothers tried to hide their amusement but all of them failed.

“We wanted to mess up with John, Pol. Sorry.” Y/N looked down embarrassed for being caught.

Polly smiled down at her, it was impossible to stay angry with someone as Y/N.

“Well I hope it was a good one.” The smile grew bigger.

Ada laughed and stood for her aunt to take her place. “You should’ve seen John’s face, he went pale.” Waving at them, she left.

“Hey you need to talk to Finn, he’s getting out of hand these days” Polly warned her nephews. “I asked him to deliver a few letters and he had the audacity to answer he wasn’t a mail boy anymore.”

Tommy shook his head and after a long puff to his cigarette, he answered; “I’ll talk to him.”

Y/N’s chuckle made him look at her. “What? Are you really going to lecture the poor boy? Tom, if I remember correctly, you answered your father something similar back in the day but worse and that caused your first fight.”

Tommy shuddered at the memory. He was so done with his father demanding favors from him and his brother Arthur, so one day he told him he was done with his bullshit and Arthur Sr answered with a curse, threw a glass against the wall and pushed him, Tommy pushed him back. Luckily Arthur Jr and Y/N were close and could intervene to stop them from getting any further.

That night, Y/N stayed with him outside until Tommy had calmed, then she asked her parents, who were neighbors to the Shelby’s if he could sleep on the couch. Y/N’s mother made him some tea and offered him the comfort he wasn’t able to find next door.

They started as neighbors, then Tommy and Y/N became friends until Tommy trusted her blindly. After the war she was the only one who could understand him.

Tommy took a swing of his drink. “You’re not going to tell him that, are you? I’ve a reputation to keep.” He finally added.

“Leave him Pol, the poor boy is probably frustrated because he haven’t had a woman yet.” Arthur chuckled at his own joke.

“Hey,” Y/N called everyone in the room, “leave Finn out, you’re nothing but a bad influence.”

John shook his head and raised his hands as if saying he wasn’t part of it.

“Oh please Mr.-I-want-to-marry-Lizzie-Stark, really?” Y/N raised her eyebrow at him.

“Tommy! Why the hell did you tell her?!” John exploded against his brother, who was already laughing out loud, head thrown back.

Polly had to look twice at her nephew, his guard was down he seemed to be relaxed for once. Since the war he had changed a lot, the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“And besides, I corrected my path, married to Esme didn’t I?” John mumbled chewing on his toothpick.

Y/N nodded, deciding to leave that conversation, it’s was funny to tease John. “I better go now, it’s getting late.”

Tommy was on his feet the second she announced her plans.

“C’mon I’ll drive you.” Tommy offered his best friend.

Giving Polly a hug, she waved at the Shelby brothers goodbye.

After driving for a while, Y/N noticed Tommy took another route.

“Before you ask me,” Tommy spoke softly, “I’m going to show you something.”

She opened and closed her mouth. “You’re so mysterious.”

Tilting his head, Tommy clicked his tongue. “When you see it, you’ll understand.”

“Is it the new horse?” Y/N asked impatiently.

Tommy shook his head and passed her the cigarettes and matches to light it. “Why don’t you tell me what happened with Scott?”

“Something really stupid, he got pissed over nothing.”

“Really? Tell me something I don’t know already.”

Y/N sighed and took her time to exhale the smoke out of the window. “He asked me to ask you for some money, when I told him that he still owed you from the last time he got furious at me.”

“But you gave me the money for that loan.” Tommy’s eyebrows knitted in confusion.

“I did, but it wasn’t his money.” Y/N explained embarrassed after confessing Tommy the truth.

It was now time for Tommy for sigh. Eyes focused on the road, he didn’t want to be a pain and say I told you, Y/N was the only person he could trust and he wanted her to trust him the same way.

“Look this happens all the time, your Mum used to pay your dad’s bills behind his back, I just couldn’t take another one yet, he’s trying to find a better job and I think he’s going to propose soon.”

Tommy’s breath got caught up in his throat, he was trying to process the possibilities.

“So… is he the one?” He finally asked.

“Well he’s my boyfriend.” Y/N rushed to answer. “I just don’t know if he will let me keep working for Lady Winchester.”

“If you need a job, you know there’s always a spot for you at the Shelby Company Limited.” Tommy took the last puff of his cigarette and threw it outside the vehicle.

“Maybe I’ll need it later. Thank you.” Y/N felt more than grateful to have someone like Tommy around, he had always been there for her and her siblings specially after his business took off and he started to earn more money than anyone around. In her eyes, that didn’t make him change, if anything he became more generous.

But Scott on the other hand, was tender and good to her, he was fun to be around, always brought flowers to her. He wanted to have his own business one day, unfortunately life had been hard and it was taking him longer to make it.

Taking a turn, Tommy stopped in front of a huge gate, the property guarded by the gate wasn’t a house, it was a freaking mansion!

And her best friend was opening the gate as if he owned the property.

“Wha-what are you doing?” Y/N asked looking out the window.

“Drive over here!” Encouraged Tommy with a huge smile.

Her heart started beating faster, he showed her how to drive and even let her do it when she wasn’t allowed to. But this was wrong, it felt like they were trespassing, she could feel her heart pounding as Tommy shouted for her to hurry up.

Following his instructions, Y/N parked the car next to the fountain.

“I wanted you to see this first…” His smile couldn’t get any bigger as he opened his arms wide and looked around proudly. “I bought this place.”

Her jaw dropped, she was lost for words.

“What do you think? I’ll build a place for the horses in the back.” Tommy explained, eyes shining.

“Woah… I don’t know what to say Tom.” A hand covered her mouth, still shocked to form anything coherent. This house looked bigger than Lady Winchester’s and that was a bloody mansion too! “You always said you’d get yourself a decent place and a big house, and look at how far you’ve come!” She felt genuinely happy for him, Tommy had always worked so hard, always found a way to help his people and those around him. If anyone deserved this, it was him.

“I’ll even have my fucking office here, and there’s a grand salon for parties.” He explained as he waited for her to step inside.

“Parties?!” She laughed nervously.

“A ball dance and shit.” He took a look around.

“You’ll need loads of furniture to fill this place.”

Tommy chuckled. This was unthinkable a few months ago, now it was a reality, he’d had the big place he dreamed of when he was a kid.

“You got a fireplace! In the tea room!”

He followed Y/N’s voice, she was now standing in the middle of the dining room.

“This looks like it belongs to a Lord.”

“You can call me Lord Shelby then.” He winked at her and they both laughed at how ridiculous it sounded.

“Downstairs it’s the wine cellar.” He added hiding his hands inside the pockets of his pants. “Do you like it?”

“Are you kidding me?” She nodded. “This is a dream! I’m so happy for you!” Y/N then went to give him a hug.

A bold movement for the rest of the world, but to her it was just natural, they’ve been friends since forever. She was the one comforting him when his mother passed away, the one to help him hold it together after the war.

“You’ll love the kitchen, it’s huge but they’re doing some renovations already, I’ll show you once it’s done.”

“Looks like I’ll need to make an appointment from now on.” Y/N teased him.

Tommy shook his head with a shy smile. “Of course not, specially not you.”

She knew he was busier now days that the Peaky Blinders owned the races and licenses. It was just a matter of time before he found a woman and got married, then this house would be filled with kids. Or perhaps he already had someone therefore the plans to get the big house.

Once the realization hit her, she pretended to look towards the window. A sudden lump installed in her throat and something indescribable pressed her heart.

“Should we go? It’s going to be dark soon.” Y/N asked, looking him in the eyes for a mere second.

Time flew on their way back and soon Tommy stopped his car in front of Y/N’s door.

Even before he could say goodnight, an angry voice called for her.

“I’ve been waiting hours for you, Y/N nobody knew where the heck did you go.”

“Slow down mate, that’s no way to treat her.” Tommy intervened, holding Scott’s death stare.

“Stay the fuck out of this.” Scott raised his voice.

Tommy felt his blood boiling, one stride and he’d finish the prick, but before he could move, a pair of soft hands stopped him.

“Tommy please, let me handle this.” She pleaded.

His jaw clenched as he saw the smirk of satisfaction Scott gave him. The bastard had Y/N charmed and there was nothing he could do about it.

✨ Thank you for your support! You already know it, but the way to a writer’s heart is through your feedback xx

Part 1

Master list

Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @garrison-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @thenattitude @winchestergirl22 @zablife @elk96 @blondie-22 @imichelle-l-rigby @allie131313 @already-broken144 @peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @sydneyyyya @adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @thomashelbyswife @darleneslane @everythingelseisextra @kmc1989 @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @lau219 @lauren-raines-x @red-riding-wood @lovemissyhoneybee @theendlessvoidofdarkest @wannabeperfectionists-blog @yeppaweshallsee (can’t tag) @skydisneylover (can’t tag) @holacia3 @galactict3a

@saradika-graphics divider

#that’s what a I’ll said #tommy shelby x fem!reader #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x you #thomas shelby x you #thomas shelby x y/n #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders fan fiction

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storiesforallfandoms · 11 months

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i don’t ever wanna see you with him ~ roman godfrey;hemlock grove

word count: 2551

request?: no

description: after he gets jealous of her best male friend, she decides to put him in his place

pairing: roman godfrey x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two, three)

Roman Godfrey was spoiled and entitled. Everyone in Hemlock Grove knew that. He was the heir to the massive empire in their small town, so it wasn’t a surprise that he had a sense of entitlement. That entitlement tended to extend to his romantic relationships, too. Roman was often very possessive and jealous over his girlfriends. Most of them liked that, most of them viewed it as hot and endearing.

(Y/N) was not one of those girls.

She and Roman had met through (Y/N)’s best friend, Peter. He was enamored with her the minute he laid his eyes on her, and, secretly, (Y/N) had felt the same way. Not that she would ever tell him that. She had been warned about Roman before she met him. She wasn’t about to give into him so easily; she made him work for it - for her. And he really did put in the work until (Y/N) trusted his commitment to her and agreed to date him.

There was one issue about Roman, though, and that was his jealousy towards (Y/N) and Peter’s friendship. He thought he kept it lowkey, but both Peter and (Y/N) knew. They both knew Roman better than he thought they did. They could see when his eyes darkened whenever he looked at them. They could see his jaw tighten whenever (Y/N) laughed at something Peter said. They could see the way Roman always needed to be touching (Y/N) whenever the three of them were hanging out.

It wasn’t that Roman didn’t like Peter. When it was just the two of them, they were the best of friends. It was Peter with (Y/N) that Roman didn’t like. And that was what pissed (Y/N) off. Peter had been her friend long before he was Roman’s, and long before Roman and (Y/N) started dating. And that’s all they were - friends. There had never been any sort of romantic feelings between them, and there never would be.

That’s why (Y/N) was walking up to Peter’s trailer on her own on a sunny afternoon. He was laying in a hammock, his eyes closed as he soaked up the sun. Upon hearing her footsteps, he opened one eye and peered over at her.

“Where’s your shadow?” he asked.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. “He’s not that attached to me.”

“He may as well be a wart on your ass, (Y/N). Especially when it comes to me.”

“He’s certainly a pain in my ass,” (Y/N) muttered. “Move over, I want some hammock.”

Peter chuckled and shuffled over slightly. (Y/N) got into the hammock, laying with her feet towards Peter’s head and her head towards his feet. The hammock swayed with the motions before it settled again.

“He doesn’t know I’m here,” (Y/N) said as her body relaxed into the swaying fabric.

“What?” Peter asked.

“Roman. I didn’t tell him I was coming.”

“Is that healthy? Like, for your relationship.”

“I didn’t lie to him or anything. He’s busy with some family shit, so I haven’t even heard from him yet today. If he were to ask, I’d tell him I’m here.”

“And then he’d show up and kick my ass.”

(Y/N) sighed and rested her head back against the hammock. “Do you think he’ll ever stop being so...”

“So Roman?” Peter finished. (Y/N) nodded. “It’s hard to tell. His entire life he’s been surrounded by enablers, or he’s been under the control of his insane mother. I think we’re the first people to treat him like an actual person and not like he owns the world. So either we could help him, or he’ll annoy us both to a point where we can’t deal with him anymore.”

The latter option was what worried (Y/N) the most. She loved Roman, other than his jealousy he was an amazing boyfriend who loved and cared for her so deeply. She didn’t want to lose him, but she knew Peter had a point about if Roman couldn’t control that jealousy. She couldn’t live the rest of her life wondering how Roman was going to react to every guy she interacted with, whether it was friends, co-workers, or just random guys she ran into on the street. And she definitely was not going to be made to choose between Roman and Peter when she had known and been friends with Peter the longest.

She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t have to. Peter knew what she was thinking. It wasn’t the first time they had this conversation.

They fell into a comfortable silence. There really didn’t need to be any conversation. This was the first time in quite some time that the two were able to spend time together and actually enjoy it. So that’s what they were doing: enjoying their time.

The enjoyment didn’t last too long, though, as they heard a car pulling up in front of Peter’s place. Peter’s mom’s car was already in the driveway, so there was only one person it could be. That suspicion was confirmed by a car door slamming and Peter rolling his eyes when he saw whoever it was approaching. (Y/N) huffed out a sigh as she prepared herself for the argument that was undoubtably coming.

“You two look comfy,” Roman commented.

“We are,” Peter responded. “Wanna join? you can lay across us.”

Roman glared at him before turning to (Y/N). “I was trying to call you. Why haven’t you been answering your phone?”

She looked down at her purse where her phone was, which she had left on the ground when she climbed into the hammock. She gestured to it. “It’s too far away for me to reach. And my phone is on vibrate, as it always is, and you know that.”

His jaw clenched. (Y/N) felt her frustration reaching its peak.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming here?” Roman asked.

“Well, for one, you haven’t responded to my texts at all today, so it’s not like I’ve even been talking to you today,” (Y/N) retorted. “And two, you don’t own me, Roman. I’m not required to tell you every single thing I’m doing or where I’m going.”

“You do if you’re hanging out with other guys by yourself.”

(Y/N) swung her legs over the side of the hammock and stood up so quickly that Peter nearly flipped out of it. She approached Roman with such ferocity that Roman took a step back before she reached him.

“Let me tell you one thing, Roman Godfrey: I’m done with this jealousy bullshit. I am not your property, I am your girlfriend. You do not control where I go or who I’m friends with. Especially when the person in question is my best friend who I’ve known way before I met you. This dark, entitled rich boy bullshit might work on other girls in this town, but it’s not working on me. If you want someone to put up with that, then you may as well find someone else to be your girlfriend, cause I can’t do this anymore.”

She picked up her purse and put it over her shoulder.

“Where are you going?” Roman asked as she started walking away.

“Anywhere that’s away from you!” she hissed. Over her shoulder she added, “I’ll talk to you later, Peter.”

~~~~~~

(Y/N) was home by herself that night. Her parents had gone out to some kind of function, and had asked if she wanted to tag along, but she told them to go on without her. She felt like she needed some time alone to come to terms with what had happened that day.

Peter had texted her asking if she was okay, but she hadn’t responded. She wasn’t upset with him by any means, as he didn’t even do anything wrong, but she just felt like she didn’t want to talk just yet. When she did respond, it was going to be to tell him she wanted to forget everything that had happened that day and to move on as if everything was normal, minus the fact that she and Roman were no longer together.

Roman hadn’t texted or called at all. She wasn’t sure if it hurt more that he hadn’t, or if it had hurt less.

She was sat in the living room, half paying attention to some movie that was playing on TV, when a knock came at the door. The sudden sound startled (Y/N). She wasn’t expecting anyone, and she knew her parents weren’t either as they weren’t even home. She figured it might be a door to door salesman, or someone trying to talk to her about the Lord, although it seemed too late at night for any of that. Either way, she stood from the couch and went to answer the door.

Standing there, leaning against her doorway, was Roman Godfrey.

“What are you doing here?” she asked him.

“Can I come in?” he asked in return.

“Not until you answer my question.”

“I came to talk to you.”

“You have a phone, which I know you know how to use because you were blowing mine up before you came to attack me and Peter.”

“I wanted to come talk to you in person. You’d be more likely to answer the door if you didn’t know I was coming than to answer your phone if you knew it was me calling.”

Okay, he has a point.

(Y/N) reluctantly stepped aside and gestured for Roman to come in. She closed the door behind him and led him towards the living room. She had been sat with all the lights off before Roman knocked and hadn’t realized just how dark the room had become. She switched on a small table lamp and muted the movie before sitting back in her spot on the couch.

“Your parents aren’t home?” Roman asked.

“No, they’re gone to some gala for dad’s work,” she responded. “Don’t get any funny ideas. We’re not together anymore, remember?”

Roman winced, as if her words had physically harmed him. “Yeah, I know. That’s what I came to talk about.”

He sat down next to her on the couch, but left a respectable distance between them. She appreciated that it seemed like he wasn’t trying to be too pushy towards her or anything, at least not yet.

“Go on then,” she said, waving her hand at him. “Start talking. What was so important that you had to come down from your castle to speak to the commoner?”

Roman scowled at her. “You know you’re not a commoner.”

“Compared to you and your wealth I am. But that’s not the conversation we’re having right now. Whatever it is you wanted to say, say it, and then I’ll decide whether or not I want you to leave immediately.”

Roman sighed and ran his hands through his hair. (Y/N) quickly glanced at the dark brown strands that were between his fingers. His hair was always incredibly soft. (Y/N) always loved to run her hands through his hair and seized every opportunity to do so. She had to look away just as quickly and shove down those painful memories. She couldn’t let herself break and go back to him just because of something so trivial.

“I’m sorry.”

The words shocked (Y/N) so much that she almost physically jumped when he said them. They were words she had very rarely ever heard said with such sincerity coming from Roman’s mouth. She had heard it in sarcastic mutters under his breath whenever his mother chastised him for something stupid, or said to defuse a situation that was getting a little too heated, but this wasn’t in either of those ways. This time, he actually meant it.

“Can you say that again?” (Y/N) asked.

Roman chuckled and rolled his eyes. “I said I’m sorry.”

“One more time.”

“(Y/N), I do have more to say.”

“Yeah, but this is what I want to hear.”

Roman shook his head at her, a smile threatening to break out across his face. “Look, what you said earlier, at Peter’s, you were right. You are my girlfriend, not my property. I shouldn’t have been so possessive and attempting to control your friendship with Peter. I just...every time you two are together, I’m reminded about the fact that you and Peter are close, and that you’ve been close for a very long time. I know that Peter isn’t as much of a prick as I am, some would say he’s an actual nice guy I guess. I know there’s nothing between the two of you, but there’s always been this fear in the back of my mind that maybe...maybe that could change. That you would want Peter more than you want me.”

There was hurt in his big green eyes. His confession surprised her because Roman always seemed so confident in himself. It was one of the first things she had ever heard about him, about how cocky he was.

“Why did you never tell me before?” she asked.

Roman shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t want to seem like a crazy, possessive boyfriend. I didn’t realize I had already been acting like that. I actually thought I was hiding it well.”

“Yeah, because showing up to Peter’s place because I didn’t answer my phone is totally not a crazy, jealous boyfriend move.”

He chuckled. “Okay, touché. That was not one of my better moments.”

“None of how you were acting was one of your better moments,” (Y/N) said. “I would’ve much preferred you to have told me how you were feeling instead of bottling them up and allowing yourself to treat your best friend like garbage whenever we were hanging out.”

Roman cringed. “I did treat Peter pretty terribly, didn’t I? God, he probably hates me.”

“You’re definitely not his favorite person right now, but I’m sure you can get back in his good graces by acting like an actual person and not like a jealous piece of shit.”

“What about your good graces?”

(Y/N) thought to herself for a moment. He had come to apologize in person. He knew the way he had acted was wrong, he actually apologized for it, and it seemed like he was willing to make a change. That’s what she wanted, wasn’t it? For him to work on the jealousy and actually change it.

“I think you can get back there,” she said. “You’ll just have to work for it again.”

“I’ll do whatever it takes.”

(Y/N) smiled. She moved closer towards him and unmuted the movie. “You can start by cuddling me and finishing this bullshit movie with me.”

He smiled back at her and put his arm around her shoulder. “I can do that. But why are we finishing the movie if it’s bullshit?”

“Because I’m invested in the bullshit.”

Roman chuckled and pulled (Y/N) towards him. She rested her head against his shoulder and he put his head on hers. He tested the waters by placing a kiss on the top of her head. (Y/N) didn’t argue. Instead, she turned her head to kiss his cheek before settling against him again.

#Roman Godfrey #roman godfrey imagine #roman godfrey x reader #bill skarsgard #bill skarsgard imagine #bill skarsgard x reader #hemlock grove #hemlock grove imagine #imagine #one shot #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 1 year

Text

North Star.

It's New Years Eve. Jake is tired of waiting.

Pairing - Jake Seresin x female reader

Warnings - None

Word Count - 1638

Author's Note - Thank you so much for all the love on The Orange - I've been giggling and kicking my feet reading all of your comments and tags. I loved writing it, and I loved writing this one too. Please feel free to send me any requests, ideas, prompts, comments or questions - I'll always read them. If I could kiss you all, I would x

Masterlist. Requests.

Multi colored lights adorn the beams of the ceiling. Metallic streamers hang from the bar. Music is blasting from the jukebox. The Hard Deck almost looks unrecognisable.

It's New Years Eve, and The Squad have agreed to spend it together. Hangman, Coyote and Payback are at the dart board, allowing Jake to show off his talent. Bob, Rooster and Fanboy are convened by the pool table, taking turns to shoot, unbothered by who's meant to be sinking what. You and Natasha are standing by the bar, waiting for Penny to serve you when she gets the chance.

"So, come on, who are you kissing at midnight?" Natasha looks at you with a glint in her eye. Mischievous girl.

"Yeah. Right. You, if you're not careful," you warn her, teasing lilt in your voice. Honestly, you don't think she'd be the worst choice in the world.

"As much as I'd love that, I don't think the squad could handle it," she winks at you cheekily. "Seriously, who?"

"I don't know!" you laugh. But that's a lie. You do know. At least, you know who you'd like to kiss.

Jake Seresin. Hangman. America's Sweetheart.

Pilot, Texan, Heartbreaker.

Your friend, your teammate, the man you've been in love with since you met him that first day of basic training.

The two of you were partnered for the first few exercises that day, and you beat every other pair by a mile. You both figured out pretty quickly that you make a damn good team.

That hasn't changed. If ever you have to pair up for an exercise, a mission, or just a class, Jake's eyes find yours immediately. A silent question. Shall we? And your answer, always - of course.

You seem to have your own language, this shared communication. You don't have to speak to know what the other person is saying. On the ground, or in the air, you know each other's next moves. Predictable, but comfortable.

Maybe that's the problem.

You believe strongly that women are more than capable of making the first move. You've thought about grabbing Jake and kissing him stupid more times than you can count. But you don't. Every time there's an opportunity, you brush past it, let it go. Because the comfort isn't worth sacrificing. At least, that's what you're telling yourself.

Your friendship with Jake has been built on years of trust, empathy, and reliance. You know that no matter what, he'll have your back. He's demonstrated it more than once. Countless times. Showing up for you, without fail. When you were harassed by a man at the Hard Deck, Jake showed up. When you had a family member's funeral and didn't want to go alone, Jake showed up. When you broke your wrist and ended up in the hospital, Jake showed up. He was your North Star. Always there, always guiding. Always comforting.

So you can't help but repeatedly ask yourself - why hasn't he made a move? You're convinced you know the answer to that question, though. Because you're friends. He sees you as a friend. A teammate. Which you wouldn't change for the world, not by any means. But it doesn't stop you from wishing that maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't hold his cards so close to his chest. Just for a minute.

The Devil Himself sidles over to the two of you, still at the bar, and throws an arm over each of you. Natasha manages to wiggle under and away from him, but you stay put. You don't mind.

"Hey pretty ladies," he beams, "whatcha whispering about?"

"It's kind of impossible to whisper when you keep queueing Duran Duran on the jukebox at full volume, Hangman," Natasha barks back.

He laughs, a real, full bodied laugh that shakes both him and you, still with his arm slung over your shoulder. You laugh with him. It's impossible not to. His laugh is contagious, you think. Unavoidable. He laughs, you laugh. That's the way it's always been.

It's at this moment that Bob pushes his way through the crowd, grabbing Natasha by the hand.

"Phoenix, I need you. Fanboy doesn't believe you can do that pool trick you showed me last week. Come and prove him wrong!"

She grins at you, and allows herself to be pulled into the swarms of people, on her way to earn some respect.

You turn back to Jake at the bar, and see that he's ordered a beer, and your usual. Observant boy.

You take a sip of your drink, only for a drop to miss your mouth entirely. Maybe it's the alcohol, or maybe it's just his impatience, but Jake decides he's tired of waiting. He leans in to you, and slowly, deliberately, follows the journey of the drop with his tongue, from the bottom of your neck up to your jaw. He pulls back, and watches you with that gaze of his. Measured, careful. Adoring. Mischievous. Just so Jake.

You feel the heat rise from your chest and up to your cheeks, but you don't break eye contact with him. It feels like a confession. You're baring your truth to him, silently, and he's understanding. That shared language. You're both saying so much, without saying anything at all.

It's then that you realise where you are. The Hard Deck has somehow become even more crowded, and you keep being bumped left and right by people attempting to get to the bar. The music is too loud, the lights are too bright. You need a minute. As if he can read your mind, Jake speaks.

"Let's get some air. It's hot in here."

He grabs your hand, interlacing your fingers with his, and leads you out of the door, onto the deck outside.

The cool night air hits you both, and you sigh with relief. You allow the breeze to flow through your hair, to ripple your dress, to cleanse you of your worry.

Jake's still holding your hand. Tighter, now. As if he's scared you'll blow away. Or run away, maybe.

You lean into him slightly, and rest your head against his arm. He's warm, soft. He smells like Jake. Like love. Like home.

"You okay?" he asks. Always so worried about you. Attentive boy.

"I'm good. Just a little overwhelmed, I guess."

He starts to rub circles over the back of your hand with his thumb, grounding you. It's all so intimate, you don't know whether to pull him closer or sprint in the other direction.

He makes the decision for you - closer. He kisses your hair, and then rests his head atop of yours. You can hear the squad laughing and cheering inside, all of them completely unaware that out on the deck, two of their teammates are baring their souls to each other.

You have no idea whether it's been two minutes or two hours when Jake speaks again.

"You're the prettiest girl in that bar, you know." Then, he says, a bit quieter, "You're always the prettiest girl in the room."

He says it so sincerely, so earnestly, that you want to rip your heart out of your chest and place it in his hands. You want to give it to him so that maybe he'll finally understand - it's already his.

You don't know what to say, so you bring your interlaced hands up to your lips, and kiss each of his knuckles individually. He's so warm, so golden. Radiating light wherever he goes. Your North Star.

You both listen to the gentle crash of the ocean waves, sitting with the weight of the moment. It feels like with every second that passes, silent revelations are being made. As if the love, the feelings, the comfort, are passing through your hands and into his. You're quite convinced that you could stay right where you are forever.

Bury me like this, you think. Immortalise us here.

All of a sudden, the sound of a countdown breaks through your solitude.

Ten. Nine.

You smile gently, and look at Jake, to see him gazing down at you. Stars in his eyes. Cosmic boy.

Eight. Seven.

He glances inside, to see the squad all gathered together, arms around one another. His family.

Six. Five.

Jake turns to you, and cups your face in both of his hands. Those hands that have picked you up from the ground. Those hands that have wiped your tears. Those hands, so strong, but so gentle. That's him all over, though. Your gentle boy.

Four. Three.

He looks at you with promise in his eyes. You can understand, clear as day, what he's telling you. Life will never be the same, from this day forward. Neither of you can wait.

Two. One.

Jake leans in, and presses his lips to yours. He tastes like spearmint, and the future. One of his hands travels to the back of your neck, to pull you in closer. Now that he has you this near, he knows he's never going to be able to let you go.

Bodies pressed together as close as can be, you kiss him with so much love, you're surprised he hasn't fallen over. He's breathing you in, trying to commit this moment to memory. He knows he'll tell your grandkids about this. Hell, he'll tell any damn person that'll listen.

"Happy New Year, sweetheart," he murmurs against your lips.

"Happy New Year, lover," you whisper back against his.

Bright beams of light appear above your head suddenly. Explosions of color dance across the sky, illuminating Jake's face. You look at him, and feel the urge to burst into tears. He's not watching the fireworks. He's watching you. He's gazing at you like you hung the moon. You're looking at him like he's the North Star, guiding you home. And that's exactly where you are. Home.

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littlexscarletxwitch · 3 months

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Hi, would you be able to do a mutual pining yelena x avenger!reader kinda thing where yelena has been ignoring reader because she doesn’t know to how to deal with her feelings and when reader confronts her, yelena admits that she likes her? Mainly angst with fluff at the end if possible. Love your fics!!

── ༊*·˚⋆ 𝗶 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗳𝘂𝗰𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂

paring: yelena belova x fem!reader

tag(s): fluff, some angst, mutual pinning, nat being the big sis

warning(s): yel having a hard time admitting her feelings, grammatical errors, unedited

word count: 1.8k

note: Soooooo sorry it took me soooo long to post this. I FUCKING LOVED THIS REQUEST btw. Also guys, it's taking me so long to post fic because a) my laptop is just a bitch and won't work, and b) I guess I'm going through a writer's block and it's kinda hard to find the motivation to write. But I'll try my best. Lots of love, M <3

requests are open! + check my rules + masterlist <3

Your legs were sore, you couldn't feel your arms anymore and you were gasping for air, but it wasn’t over until one of you was down.

“Can’t we take a break?” you whined out as you tried dodging Yelena’s fist but still made contact with your body and you groaned out in pain.

“Focus, Y/n,” Steve called out, before Yelena would punch again.

You knew she was holding back, measuring her strength, she always would when training with you. And you didn’t know if you found that reassuring or mocking. You kicked her in the stomach, but it still did not affect her, it was quite the opposite really.

“That’s all you got?”

“Why? Wanna try something else?” you teasingly said while winking at her.

You got her off guard, she wasn’t expecting your cocky self to show up while training, and seized the moment to swift her off her feet and got on top of her.

“Was this what you had in mind?”

Your hands quickly found her wrists while your body pressed into her abdomen pushing her down so she wouldn’t get out of your hold.

“Okay, I think it’s enough,” Steve called out, sensing you had gone off track.

Both you and Yelena knew that she could easily get out of your hold, but still it took her two minutes to do so. You didn’t want to let her go that easily, you felt your whole body burning just by the thought of her skin against yours, still you stood up and got on moving before the two of you could have a say on what just had happened.

That was how it always went with Yelena, one moment you had the courage to openly flirt with her and a second later you would run back to your dorm second guessing the whole interaction. You wanted to do more, each and every time, but she was so nonchalant about you flirting with her that you convinced yourself that it was just that, a flirty friendship.

And most of the time you were okay with it, playing dumb about your own feelings. But then shit like that would happen, you would brush her skin, or would make her laugh, or just look at her, and the thought of a friendship would fly out of your mind. That was why you would lock up in your room, trying to calm and persuade yourself to not let your stupid feelings get in the way.

And the same stupid thing would happen to Yelena, which you didn’t know about.

“You want to talk about it?” Yelena heard her sister's voice as she watched you heading out the training room.

“I wasn’t holding back, I swear.”

“Not about your punching,” she raised her brow at her little sister.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Yelena shrugged it off as she grabbed her bottle of water and took a big sip.

“Lena, I know you,” Natasha took advantage of the fact that her sister was chugging down water. “I know we don’t do feelings, we don’t trust people. But that was the old us, that was the red room. We have to put that shitty part of our lives behind us for good.”

“And I have,” Yelena scoffed.

“Then why haven't you done something about it?” Yelena knew her sister meant you, she didn’t have to clarify. “At least, give it a go,” Natasha sighed. “If not for you, then for her.”

“She doesn’t—.”

“You never know, Lena. Neither will she, if you don’t tell her,” and with that Natasha left her sister to her own thoughts.

“Suka,” she mumbled under her breath, because Natasha was right. She was always right about everything, it was the power that came with being a big sister—her big sister—, and she hated it when she was right.

She knew she had to do something about it, about you. But the fear of rejection, of feeling unwanted felt too much to bear. She wasn’t going to open up her heart just for someone else to crush it. But maybe, just maybe she could trust you not to crush it.

[...]

Still, it was easier said than done. It took her a full week to finally come to the conclusion that she was, actually, madly in love with you. A week full of stress and anxiety because deep down she felt like she didn’t deserve to have these feelings towards you.

And now that she knew exactly how she felt about you, it fucking terrified her. So she did what she thought was best and put some space in between the two of you. The thought of you clouded her brain and it was starting to affect her line of work, and she couldn’t have that. Being part of the avengers gave her life meaning, and she was not going to let her stupid feelings ruin that for her. Even though she wanted to be close to you, and just melt into your arms.

Of course, her coldness didn’t go unnoticed by you. You were confused, though. It wasn’t like Yelena to just shut you out. Even though you wanted more than just a friendship out of her, you wanted to consider yourself a friend of hers and it hurt that she was just avoiding you.

You didn’t know what was going on, she just felt out of your reach. You asked her sister about it, she just told you to give her space and she would be okay, before muttering something under her breath and went on with her day. You asked Kate and she just completely avoided the topic and changed the subject.

The more she didn’t talk to you, not even glance at your direction, the more you felt like you had done something wrong, maybe she had found out about your feelings and now she was avoiding you because of them. She probably felt uncomfortable about them, she probably wanted nothing to do with you. And who were you to decide otherwise?

You talked to Steve, making sure to not have more training lessons with her, only to find out she had already asked the same thing. You knew it was stupid to feel as if your heart was breaking since you wanted the same thing, but it did feel like shattering to pieces. You just nodded, a tight smile finding its way to your lips and went to your room before shedding any tears.

This whole thing was bullshit. Yes, maybe she didn’t feel the same way you did about her. But the both of you were full grown-ups, you should be professional about it and act like nothing had happened. Because in reality it didn’t, not that you were aware of it. So you decided that you were going to give her a piece of your mind.

You searched for her throughout the entire building and finally found her in the training room. Of course she was there, you should have thought of coming there earlier.

For a trained assassin she didn’t notice your presence, too caught up in her own mind, focusing on her breathing and throwing punches at the boxing bag.

You cleared your throat. “Got a minute?”

She looked over her shoulder, finally acknowledging you there, and you swore you watched as her whole body just tensed up by the sound of your voice.

“I’m kinda busy right now,” she mumbled before throwing two more punches.

“It won’t take long,” you insisted, wanting to get this over with.

“Look, I really need to—.”

You cut her off. “I don’t know who told you or how you found out, but yes, it’s true, okay?” you finally got her attention. “I just thought you would be professional enough to not let this get in the way and pretend like nothing happened. Which is what I also wish for.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You avoiding me,” you quickly mumbled, a tint of concussion in your tone. “I get it, but let’s just put this behind us and act like propper adults.”

“No, I’m aware of that part,” she scoffed, embarrassed to admit to you what she had been up to. “What I mean is, what have I found out?”

Your brows furrowed. “About my… me… and you,” you gave yourself a second to think her words through. “Hold on a second, you don’t know?”

“What don’t I know?”

“You don’t,” you finally added two plus two and realised that Yelena had no recollection whatsoever about your feelings, but still something was off. “Why have you been avoiding me then?”

You watched her as her mouth opened and closed, searching for the right words.

“What did I ever do to you for you to completely avoid me, huh?”

“You did nothing, I just…”

“You just what?” you scoffed, now anger filling your tone. “You just decided it was fun to ignore me?”

“No! God, no.”

“Then what is it?!” the two of you were pretty much screaming at each other.

“Because I like you, damn it!” she finally confessed. “Is it so hard to see?”

Your eyes winded. “You like me? You have been avoiding me because you like me?”

“I know, not my brightest moment. But it's just that you… you just…” she gestured to her brain. “You’re just stuck here, and I can’t get you out. At first I was scared to admit my own feelings to myself,” she took a deep breath. “But then Tasha said something and it made me realise that there’s nothing wrong with having feelings. But then I had to admit to myself that I really fucking like you. And I just… I just got scared because you might not feel the same way, and you might just push me away,” another deep breath. “And I decided that I would push you away first… and so I did.”

“So you like me.”

“Yes,” her brows furrowed. “Was that all you got?”

“I mean… it’s the part that matters most,” you grinned at her.

“What do you mean?”

“I really fucking like you too,” you said cupping her cheeks. “I thought you knew and that was why you were avoiding me. But now I get it, I make you nervous,” you said teasingly.

“I wouldn’t use that word…” you rolled your eyes before shutting her off with your lips, finally giving in and kissing her.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now,” you whispered over her lips as you deepened the kiss.

Her lips were soft and rough, and they had some saltiness to them due to her being all sweaty. But you didn’t mind at all, in fact you really like it.

“Remember last time we were here?” you whispered in her ear, trailing a path of kiss down her jaw and neck.

“You mean… that time we last trained?” she sounded breathlessly and it sent a shiver down your whole body.

“If I remember correctly, which I know I do…” you gently bit her skin earning a hiss out of her lips. “You were on the grown and I was on top of you, remember?”

“Yes…” she said as her fingers ran through your hair.

“Want to pick up where we left it off?”

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! <3

-M

#yelena belova #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova x y/n #yelena belova x fem reader #yelena belova imagine #florence pugh #florence pugh x reader #littlexscarletxwitch's fic #requests by lovely anons ‘๑’

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wardenparker · 5 months

Text

Vampire Waltz - ch 12

Max Phillips x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

A mysterious inheritance, sprawling mansion, eccentric roommates, friendly bat, and coven of New England witches are the newest chapter of your life after being unceremoniously dumped and kicked out by your boyfriend. For Max, the biggest change in his life is you, and what exactly he's going to do about the fact that he is stuck living with you as long as his sire continues to punish him for that incident at his last office...

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 9.8k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: deceased parents, cursing, food, blood and blood drinking, depictions and references to abusive relationships. Anxiety and trauma responses. Self-worth issues.* References to menstruation, heavy flirting, talk of blood drinking, oral sex (female receiving). Summary: A budding friendship with your young mother gives you plenty of things to think over, but it's your relationship with Max that is growing the most. Notes: We are name dropping Gilded Age families and embracing our newfound historical fiction genre, folx! Please enjoy a photo of Dolly's teahouse as it exists today in 2023 as your weekly photo ❤ Apologies for any errors that I might have missed. I am a very sleepy girl after a week of seasonal chaos at work.

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11

If yesterday's adventure to the dressmaker showed you anything, it was that the simple act of dressing and undressing in this time was going to be an adventure. Snagging a newspaper from a hollering newsboy on the street corner had told you that you were in 1885, and now – on your second day in October 1885 – the reality is setting in. Renee came upstairs to you after lunch to help you change in a walking dress, and while you didn't protest it did seem extremely unnecessary until you remembered that yesterday the skirts of your dress had dragged through the dirt for three blocks in downtown Newport. A walking dress, apparently, has a shorter skirt and no train. Which means no dragging in the dirt while you walk. And suddenly the seemingly ridiculous amounts of times that Gilded Age ladies changed their clothing during the day begins to make more sense: simply changing the outer shell of your outfit makes it 'suitable' for many different activities. It's still a little ridiculous, but less so than you had thought only yesterday.

"Renee, would you make sure that Mrs. Phillips is still available for our walk?" Annie asks as the maid helps her tie the laces in her stays before she slides the skirt over her head. She's been looking forward to this walk since yesterday, hoping to have some time to speak to another woman closer to her age that is not her mother about the budding relationship with Emmanuel. A newly made bride would understand, especially since they eloped.

“Of course, miss.” Renee helps Annie into the bodice that matches the skirt she has just put on, carefully looking each button in the back to ensure her mistress is comfortably and appropriately attired. She can leave Miss Annie to choose her own hat and jewelry as she wishes and curtsies politely before going upstairs.

******

“So…nice little outing planned with Annie.” Max ventures as he watches you carefully arrange your hair like Renee had shown you. You’re beautiful and it seems like this time only magnifies that. Or maybe it’s because there’s fewer distractions around him. “Are you nervous?”

“Terrified.” Frowning heavily at the mirror as you try to get this hairdo right, you glance up and to the side where Max is sitting a few feet away watching you. “I haven’t spent time alone with my mother since I was eighteen. And this…she is that person but isn’t that person at the same time. At this point I’m just thrilled we’re only walking the grounds and not in town.” Even though the grounds of Chateau-sur-Mer are much larger in this time, it’s still a relief. These are safe, secluded acres. The only people you’ll run into are your grandparents or their staff.

“Remember that even if she’s not the mother you knew, she’s the woman that will become your mother. It will be an interesting comparison.” Max offers.

“You know how much she loved the curried lamb we had for dinner last night?” The spectacular crown roast that Mrs. Taylor had presented was slightly different in looks than the roasted legs of the same animal that your mother had done when you were a kid, but the taste was deliciously nostalgic. “That was her recipe. That I remembered from being a kid.”

“That’s something of a paradox.” Max snorts. “You bring back the favored family recipe and in turn, it’s passed down to you.” You were right, time travel is weird.

“Time travel is bizarre.” You whisper, barely speaking for being aware of the possibility of being overheard.

“You’re telling me.” Max snorts, shuffling behind you and putting his cool hands on your shoulders. “I have some business with 'John'.” He tells you with a wry grin. “But I will be back soon and want to hear everything about your walk.”

“It’s so weird.” A small smirk tucks into the corner of your mouth. “I know neither of us has ever called him his real name, but calling him John just feels weird.”

“It’s like Rumpelstiltskin.” He jokes, finding the comparison hilarious.

“Maybe he is Rumplestiltskin,” you joke, sending the two of you into a fit of giggles just before a knock is heard at the door.

Renee waits for a moment before she enters the room. “Good morning Mr. and Mrs. Phillips, I hope your night was restful.” She nods respectfully and looks towards where you are sitting. “Miss Annie was inquiring if you were still free for the walk, Ma’am?”

“Of course, Renee.” You stand from sitting beside Max and smile, reassuring yourself that you can do this without punching a hole in the space-time continuum. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“I will let Miss Annie know.” She nods politely and then turns around to exit the room just as quietly as she had entered.

“Thank you, Renee.” Blowing out a breath, you lean over to kiss Max and flash him a thumbs up that is far more forced than anything else. “Here goes nothing.”

“You will have an amazing time.” He predicts softly. “Knock ‘em dead, Tiger.”

“What happened to my little ketchup packet?” You tease, kissing him one more time before opening the bedroom door. “We’ll be around the grounds if you need us.”

“Enjoy your time, my dear.” In reality, Max would love to be there with you, but he knows you need this time alone with the one who would one day give birth to you. He watches your skirts swish down the hallways and he grins as he remembers dancing with you last night after dinner.

At the bottom of the stairs, Annie is repining her hat in place in a mirror, and you stop for a moment of peace to just admire your mother. Always beautiful and always extraordinarily competent, she even manages elegant self-sufficiency in the face of a society that tells her to sit down and keep her mouth shut. It’s hard to watch her being so happy with Emmanuel when you know what’s to come, but you had bitten your tongue last night while she talked about him at dinner and you’ll bite your tongue today too. Seeing her happy again, even for a little while, is enough.

“I find myself positively - what was the phrase Mr. Phillips used last nigh? ‘Raring to go’ this afternoon.” She seems quite pleased with her use of the phrase and takes one last look before she turns away from the mirror towards you. “Oh dear, did the modiste not have a hat for you yesterday?”

“I admit, I did not know which hats would be best, so I didn’t choose any.” This is probably a huge faux pas but you know less than nothing about late 19th century hats anyway. It seemed easier just to skip it. Max, on the other hand, had acquired both a top hat and a bowler with glee.

“Renee.” Annie calls out to the maid. “Please fetch my brown crushed velvet with the flowers?” She asks. “And the pins to secure it. I think that would look stunning with your dress.”

Renee is off like a shot before you can protest, and back again with hat and pins on hand just seconds later. It’s astonishing how fast the vampires in this household can move when they’re not trying to disguise their nature.

“Yes, I thought the flowers would match.” The pale pink and white of your walking dress match the flowers and the color of the brown velvet compliments your skin beautifully. “It will be perfect.”

“I bow to your superior taste.” And since it’s about the six hundredth time in your entire life that your mother has insisted that you put on a hat before going out the door, you don’t protest. All those other times had been talking about winter hats keeping you warm, but it’s the spirit of the thing. “You’re very generous.”

Once the pins are set and Annie has adjusted to her liking, she clicks her tongue. “You must keep it. My gift to you. It looks so much better on you than it does on me.”

“As I said. Generous.” She has always been generous, as along as you’ve known her, and you reach out to squeeze her shoulder gently. “Shall we?”

“It’s a beautiful afternoon.” Warm for the season but it plays into the atmosphere beautifully. No need to bundle up. “Although I believe we will have snow soon. Winter in Newport is divine.”

"I hear it piles up on rooftops like icing on cake." It was something that Allison had told you just a few days ago, and the mental image had just stayed in your mind. Living there and replaying for you over and over like a present. "I'm looking forward to it."

“What a charming comparison! It does!” She laughs, clear and bright in the afternoon sunshine and loops her arm through yours. “Perhaps we will sip tea and watch it pile up before we convince Emmanuel and your dear Max to take us out for a frolic in it. Mr. Taylor has sharpened the blades of the sleigh. So much better than a carriage in snow.”

"I'll have Max makes us cups of his hot chocolate," you offer, almost conspiratorially. "It's the best I've ever had and he won't tell me his secrets."

“Truly?” Her eyes sparkle with mischief. “So he enchanted you with his chocolate?”

"Amongst other things." The question brings heat to your cheeks immediately as you step out the door together. "I wasn't sure about him at first, but we found our way together quickly."

“It wasn’t love at first sight?” She asks, curious about it since you are soulmates. She had always assumed you just knew.

"Max can be a bit...full of himself," you admit with a laugh. "I thought he was very handsome, at first sight. If that counts for anything. We did not start to find our way together until we found a shared love of dancing."

“I must admit…” your mother bites her lip. “I spied on the two of you last night. You move to beautifully together.”

"Dancing is a passion that we share, and it is something I am very grateful for." That is probably an understatement, but you're not exactly going to explain competition ballroom to your semi-immortal mother in 1885. That's just...it's too much to even think about. "With the party tonight, I think there will be plenty of occasion for you to dance with him as well, if you like."

"I had hoped that you would allow me to have one dance with your husband." She admits. "Although, I will anxious be awaiting the reactions from all the dancers when they see the two of you dance."

"It will be nothing they have not seen before with so many other couples." If you're honest with yourself, you're trying to remember everything you can about traditional, historical dances instead of the modern competition dances. It isn't much, but you're pretty sure you can muddle through if you couple that with everything you can remember from watching BBC period dramas. "And Max will be very glad to dance with you. I promise it."

“Are you still enjoying the status of newlywed?” She asks, the pace of the walk nice and slow as the gravel crunches under your boots.

“I am.” Almost to your own surprise, considering it came out of nowhere in a letter from your abuela and then manifested almost immediately in life. You’ve actually found yourself wishing it was real. “Max is very attentive. And very sweet.”

The grin she shoots you is knowing. "I doubt a newly married husband is just sweet." She hums. "I think he would be passionate."

“There has not yet…been an opportunity to be passionate.” It spills out before you can really stop yourself, and instantly you have burning hot cheeks all over again. “The marriage was so recent, you see.”

“Oh- so you haven’t-“ her brows lift in surprise and she bites her lip in embarrassment. “My apologies for prying.”

"How could you have known?" It makes perfect sense to assume that a married couple has had sex in any time period. But you don't want to have to explain to your mother about your last ex or anything of the bruises that relationship left on your soul.

“Blast.” The curse comes out silently. “I was hoping to talk with another woman near my age.” She admits quietly.

“About…intimacy?” Even though this has the potential to become very awkward, you just can’t say no to her. Not to this young, excited version of your mother who is just beginning to learn about life.

“Not exactly intimacy.” She hedges slightly. “More how you knew Mr. Phillips was the one.” She confesses. “I feel like Emmanuel is my soulmate but I don’t know.”

“We share a mark.” In this specific way, you know you’re lucky. Having a birthmark meant nothing ever had to happen to you for you to find your soulmate. Some people in history have deliberately injured themselves in order to have scars. “He saw it on my skin and showed me his matching one. We were…quite lucky that it was that simple.”

“Is it….visible?” She asks, looking over your neck and hands. It’s not as if much skin is exposed to the public in your dresses.

“It was. In what I was wearing at that time.” Although, it does occur to you now that keeping your birthmark hidden from your mother might be wise. Otherwise she will put the pieces together later on. “It is very easy to cover, so it was unusual for it to be visible. But…a good thing. It ended up to be a very good thing.”

“I feel that Emmanuel is my soulmate.” She confesses with a hopeful sparkle in her eyes. “I cannot explain it, but my heart- it jumps when he kisses me.” It might be scandalous to admit that she allowed him to kiss her, but she so completely enthralled with him from the moment they met.

It might be cruel or just insensitive to point out to her that her physical response to the kiss could just be lust, especially since in this time you’re pretty sure ladies weren’t even supposed to kiss a man until they were engaged. “Do you have any marks of your own?” You ask instead, realizing that you actually can’t remember if your mother had any when you were a child. Those memories are still…unpleasantly hazy. Even when so many other memories are now crystal clear in your mind.

“No.” She shakes her head sadly. “None of my own. Because of my…parentage, my skin heals without blemish. I only have one scar on my leg from my soulmate, and it would be completely inappropriate to show it to Emmanuel.”

“Perhaps you could ask him if he has scars instead?” Filing away that tidbit of information in your mind, you note to yourself that it fully explains why you never seemed to get the typical scratches and scars of childhood that your friends all did. “If you feel that he could be your soulmate…” Which, of course, you know he is but you can’t say so. “It might be a way to bridge the topic. Privately, of course.”

“What a good idea!” She exclaims. “He would not think me too forward, you think?”

You can’t help but smirk, looking over at your mother and tilting your head in amusement. “I think if he has already kissed you more than once, then being too forward by asking a question is probably not on your list of concerns.”

“I- you are correct.” She bites her lip and looks worried. “He probably thinks that I am unsuitable. Being so free.”

“Or perhaps he thinks that you feel as passionately about him as he feels about you.” Not really willing to get into the whole restricted sexuality thing of this time period, you shrug. “It is not such a terrible thing to be passionate.”

“My parents have never thought so, but others are not so accepting.” She huffs, rolling her eyes at the way the world is.

“Then I find myself in firm agreement with your family.” Which isn’t odd at all, when you consider that they’re your family, too.

“They are considered progressives, if people really knew their thoughts.” She clutches your arm. “But my parents do not speak about politics in social settings.”

“I understand it is considered very impolite.” At least, you’re pretty sure you read that in a book once. You hang onto her as tightly as she hangs on to you as you walk together, strolling down the length of the grounds first. All the way down in the direction of what is now a rose garden.

“That doesn’t mean that some do not talk politics.” She snorts. “Plenty of men try to do business deals during the social gatherings.”

"Of course they do." Nothing about that surprises you, but the woman your mother is at this point in your life seems disappointed by it. "But that only makes it easier to pick out the sort of men who find it impossible to relax and enjoy themselves. And those are the type of men to avoid, in general."

“You are right.” She agrees. “Hopefully Emmanuel is not that type of man. He doesn’t seem to be, but I have not been to many social gatherings with him.”

“How long have you known him?” There are vague memories you have in your head of a story about your parents being soulmates, but it is old and faded and feels wrong. You know they weren’t, but at some point you believed otherwise. Pushing away the knowledge that this is the woman who put you under the spell that changed those exact memories, you refocus on your mother and her smile. It’s exactly the same as when you were little — bright like sunshine on a summer day.

“Two weeks.” She admits, slightly embarrassed by how fast her feeling developed for Emmanuel. “We met at the Season opening ball.”

“It took me no longer than that to realize what Max means to me.” It was significantly less, if you’re honest, but your story is a bit odd to tell. Not that you’re itching to tell anything of the sort right now. “They say that with soulmates, sometimes your heart knows right away.”

“I feel that way with Emmanuel.” She confesses. “If he is not my soulmate, I will be horribly embarrassed. Because my feelings for him are already so strong. Especially because he’s human.”

“Being human is not a crime or a personal failing,” you remind her with a hint of amusement in her voice. She has no idea that she’ll raise you in such a human way. The irony of the moment is thick. “He must know that you are different, doesn’t he? It seems…very important for him to know.”

“He knows.” She nods quickly. “He- it is very fortuitous that he does not mind. He actually was curious about my father’s nature.”

Curious. It will be that curiosity that dooms everything, but you have to swallow that knowledge and not say a word. “It is fortunate to find open minded people in the world,” you say instead.

“Yes.” She nods. “I know it must have been a shock for you when you realized your husband’s nature?”

“It certainly was.” That night in the sitting room is burned into your memory, and you don’t think it will ever leave no matter how long you live. “But I have never felt anything but safe with him. There are so many stories of men whose dispositions change when they are transformed. If that was true of Max, then it has been a change for the better.”

“How interesting.” She shakes her head. “I must admit, I do not meet many of my father’s other offspring. Not for many years.”

“I imagine it must be very different for you.” You observe carefully, not wanting to overstep in anyway. “To have so many sort of…step-siblings? In a way?”

“No.” She shakes her head and smiles softly. “They have been there before I was. I am jealous in a way.” She admits. “They share a bond I do not, with him. Will never share.”

“But you share a bond with your father that they never could, as well.” You point out, squeezing her arm gently as you walk. “I am sure some of them must be jealous of you for that same reason. To be his child through more than the sharing of blood is remarkable.”

“I have often wondered.” She admits. “Though I have no desire to be a vampire. It is bad enough I crave rare meats during my menses.”

The admission is enough to make you snort, and you cover your mouth to feign some kind of ladylike manners before all-out laughing behind your glove. “Forgive me,” you manage, barely getting back your composure after a few seconds. “I was just…not expecting you to say that. At all.”

She giggles herself, aware of how horribly inappropriate it was and she’s glad you aren’t uptight. “If you beg forgiveness then I must as well.” She hums.

“You have nothing to apologize for.” You promise her as your mutual laughter subsides. “I just never want you to think I’m laughing at you.”

“Even if you were, don’t friends laugh at each other?” She asks, still giggling.

“I suppose they do.” With her arm around yours it is a stark contrast to your childhood, but no less happy. She leans into your side as any close friend would and it makes you eternally glad that you fucked up that protection spell in such a way that it sent you straight back to your family. “Does that mean we are friends now?”

“I believe we are.” Annie decides with a grin. “We will be the best of friends.”

“I truly hope so.” At least, you think to yourself as you smile at her on your walk, for as long as it lasts.

“When I have a daughter, I will name her after you.” She decides with a pleased look on her face. “Dolly is a delightful name.”

“It…isn’t my given name.” Suddenly last night’s lamb recipe seems like nothing in the face of…becoming your own namesake. But still, you tell her your name. The name that appears on your birth certificate and all of those other things. “Dolly is…is what my family calls me.”

“You must think me so foolish.” She snorts, shaking her head. “Your proper name is gorgeous. I can see why your mother chose it. Was it a special name for her?”

“She—” As soon as it’s on the tip of your tongue you almost groan, realizing what the truth of the situation is. “She said it was her best friend’s name when she was young.”

Thinking about it for a moment, Annie sets her chin and nods. “Then I will carry on her tradition and use the name for my daughter.” She promises you. “You and Max can rest assured.”

“Then we should name our daughter Annie.” It was already in your head for the very clear reason that it was your mother’s name, but somehow making the pact with her like this is all the sweeter. “And we will carry each other together always.”

“So we shall.” The scenery in the gardens is nearly forgotten as you walk, arm in arm together. “I am looking forward to our trip on Emmanuel’s personal train car. Can you imagine? A car all to yourself?”

“Where do you wish to go?” It’s cool to you to be traveling in a real Pullman car for a completely different reason — what she views at the height of technology is something you’ve only read about in history books. “I’m sure he would agree to anywhere you choose.”

“Anywhere.” She say dreamily. Willing to go anywhere with her beau. “Do you have a particular destination in mind?”

“People speak so very highly of New York.” And in your own tone, you’ve enjoyed the city immensely. So much so that the idea of seeing it in the 1880s is nearly irresistible.

“Ohhh we should go!” She latches onto the idea immediately. “We can dine in the best restaurants and shop. Their modistes are amazing. Perhaps we can find something truly special for the ball.” She leans in conspiratorially, “I am hoping that Emmanuel proposes.”

“I would not be surprised if he did.” Wracking your mind, you can’t remember now if Yayo had said that your mother had been engaged or even married to her soulmate, but knowing what will eventually happen means you have to force a smile while your mother beams sunnily beside you. Unfortunately you’re sure it looks fake enough that it’s worth changing the subject. “But even if it does not come soon, the ball will still be lovely. Does your mother throw one at the same time each year?”

“Always.” She laughs. “Samhain was when mother and father met.” She explains. It is a special time of year for them.”

“It is something very special to celebrate, then.” In fact, you earmark the fact for yourself as well. That is why Mrs. Taylor jump so quickly in the idea of the coven having a Samhain masquerade. “They are very fortunate. To have such an enduring love story.”

“Yes.” She huffs a sigh and rolls her eyes. “But that means that a lot of expectation is placed on my shoulders too. Being their daughter.”

“You will have whatever story is best for you. Your life is your happiness, not theirs. Whatever they may think.” Realizing you e just given your mother advice — something which is probably definitely considering messing with history, you catch yourself and smile. “At least, that is what my dear friend says of her family.”

“It is my life.” She agrees. “So far, my life has been what they have wanted, but I cannot always please them and my own heart.”

“You will know when the time is right to become captain of your own ship.” You assure her, knowing full well that there will be multiple times in the future when it will be necessary. “But rushing towards it helps no one. Enjoy the time you have with someone else at the helm.”

“It is one of the reasons I have yet to marry.” She laughs slightly. “That and I wish to marry my soulmate.”

Clearing your throat slightly, you glance at her and consider for a moment that ultimately, she will end up losing Emmanuel. She’ll meet your father and That means that at some point, her view on soulmates will change. Or at least expand. “Soulmates are not the only good spouses in the world,” you venture. “My dearest friend at home…she has been blessed with deep love, but not with her soulmate.”

“I don’t disparage them.” She assures you, looking almost horrified that you might think that of her comment. “I just-“ she sighs. “I have heard mother and father’s story so many times, I wish to see what my own soulmate would be like.”

“My only wish is for your happiness.” The clarification feels necessary, as you walk through the chilly October afternoon. “However you may achieve it.”

“The same to you.” She promises. “Perhaps life will be picture perfect. No one can tell the future, not even my father.”

******

There is something to be said for the fact that the ‘ball’ your grandparents are throwing tonight is not, apparently, full scale. This is a dinner dance, of sorts. It isn’t four hundred people streaming all over the property — it’s one hundred and twenty guests precisely and they are all arriving to celebrate Annie’s birthday. When you were a kid, your mother’s birthday was the movie of her choice at the local theater and family dinner out, so this is…a remarkably bigger celebration. The guests begin arriving at ten o’clock, streaming into the house in their fine gowns and shimmering jewelry, and you and Max are trying so hard to catch names. Wetmore. Reed. Slater. Ives. Vanderbilt. Astor. Goelet. Hunt. Roosevelt. It’s all a whirlwind. When Emmanuel is announced, your mother glows and goes to him immediately, and you can see the expressions of approval on your grandparents’ faces. “Is it weird that I like him a lot?” You murmur to Max on the other side of the room. Cornelius Vanderbilt had just been shaking his hand and Max looks so puffed up and proud about it. “That’s not…betraying my father’s memory? Right?”

“It’s not, Queenie.” Max reassures you softly. “He’s a good man. I fuckin’ hate knowing what happens.”

"Me too." At least Max understands that. He feels it right along with you. "It doesn't help that they really seem to adore each other."

“That might be why it took so long to find your father.” He offers, not sure enough about Annie to believe that she would become loose by the day’s standards after destroying her soulmate. “I don’t know if I could ever find someone if I was in her shoes.”

“Good thing for you that I’m not going anywhere.” Squeezing his arm gently with one gloved hand, you smile up at Max softly. “You’re stuck with me, Mr. Phillips.”

“Mrs. Phillips.” He grins back down at you, getting a kick out of calling you by your supposedly married name. “How are you enjoying the dinner dance so far? This has to be every girl who watches Downtown Abby’s wet dream, right?”

“It’s pretty close to the top of the fantasy list,” you admit, warm and pliant under even the tease of being called Mrs. “Although, when we get back from New York we’re invited to a ball at Beechwood. And after touring all the mansions with Allison I’m kind of dying to be able to say we were on the Astor’s guest list.”

“As you should.” He hums. “He wants to talk with me about business. I can’t imagine the insight this man has.”

“William Backhouse Astor wants to talk business with you?” It’s not that you doubt Max in the least, but your eyes go wide in surprise. “And Cornelius Vanderbilt was just shaking your hand a second ago.” The grin on his face is so pleased that it’s borderline shit-eating and you stifle a laugh. “You’re loving the Gilded Age, aren’t you?”

“These are the fucking Bill Gates and Steve Jobs of the times, babe.” He snorts. “I’m over the damn moon. That MBA is paying off in spades.”

“I’ll have to figure out how to get us here deliberately and maybe we can visit from time to time.” He would love that, and you could see your family sometimes. It would be remarkable if it ever worked.

“You would love that. Pop back and visit your mom when you need that connection.” He’s not unaware that you feel different about having your mother as a friend, but you are also cherishing every moment you have with her.

“Maybe we can visit some of the Phillips clan, too. Track them down wherever it is they’re hiding in history.” He lost as much as you did but hasn’t had the blessing of a long-lost grandparent, and you want nothing more than for Max to have every single happiness that you have. To be able to share that with him.

Regret flashes in his eyes and he blinks it away. His shoulders lifting casually as he brushes off the hurt that his family had caused him. “Might be interesting. See how many skeletons are in the closet.”

“I didn’t mean to upset you.” The situation with Derek might be behind you now, but your shoulders still drop and your expression changes completely when you see the hurt in his eyes. If you could time travel instantly and change it so you said nothing at all, you would do it immediately.

“You didn’t upset me.” Max promises, sliding his hand around your waist. “My own hurts are not your fault, you make everything worthwhile.” He drops a kiss on your cheek.

“I love you, too,” you hum softly. It’s dawned on you that Max doesn’t say the words outright very often, but he says it in different ways all the time.

“Of course you do.” He chuckles and nods towards the atrium where the buffet table is laid out. “Shall we go see how Mrs. Taylor’s table looks before I whisk my wife to the dance floor?”

“You’re enjoying calling me that, I think.” Or you hope he is, b because you enjoy hearing it.

“I get to try it on, see how it feels.” Max teases you shamelessly.

“Oh yeah?” He leads the two of you toward the Great Hall with all its overflowing tables and beautiful gas light. There are punch bowls full of highly alcoholic punch but also crisp, cold water and Max pours out two glasses of water so no one will attempt to be polite and offer punch. “And how are you liking it?”

“It’ll do.” He teases and sends you a smirk. “I don’t mind it all. Not at all. Think it should be permanent.”

“You don’t have to say that just because I want you to.” Admittedly, though, you hope to the gods that he means it. The idea that he might makes you feel like that little bird in your chest could take flight all over again.

“I’m not.” He tightens his hold on your waist and looks into your eyes seriously. “The only thing that I worry about is you dying and leaving me alone.” He confesses quietly. “But I want you to be mine. Not to posses you. You aren’t a toy, but to cherish you.”

"Haven't you heard?" Somehow his hold on you is even tighter with the corset laced neatly around your waist. It isn't too tight, but it hugs you so well that his hand feels like it's going to slip right through your many layers and burn right into your skin. "Apparently you're the person who can stop that from happening." Person. Vampire. There's no need to be specific especially with so many party guests around. The thought has been on your mind since yesterday and you've been trying to summon up the courage to talk to Max about it.

“You didn’t seem too fond of the idea when I told you.” He reminds you quietly. He hadn’t wanted to push, so when you seemed resistant to it, he had dropped the subject, although the thoughts of only having a short time with you had started to bother him.

"I've been thinking about it more lately." It's not the time for the full discussion and you both know that, but at least now the topic is open again. "Maybe we can talk it over the next time we have a little privacy?" There won't be much of it coming any time soon, not while you're traveling with your mother and Emmanuel starting tomorrow afternoon, but at least there is the comfort of your bed for any conversations that should remain just between the two of you.

“I would love to talk to you about it more.” If possible, Max seems to glow at the prospect of you prolonging your life and he pulls you close. He would kiss you, but it’s frowned upon in public, even with married couples.

When he bends his head slightly but stops halfway, you recognize the gesture immediately — he did it earlier today and received a word of advice from Yayo that public displays of affection are considered rude in this time. So you do something you’ve seen your abuela do several times since your arrival — and present your cheek to him with a sly smile. A kiss on the cheek, apparently, is fully acceptable. And if that’s all you can share right now without being subject to comment, then that’s fine. It’s more important to keep a low profile right now and not become the subject of gossip.

“Tease.” He pouts playfully, letting his lips linger against your skin. “You do know husbands can spank their wives in this time, right?” He only says this because you know he would never lay a hand on you in anger. He would rather Evan drive a stake through his heart again.

“You wouldn’t.” You’re absolutely positive of that, but since you can tell that Max is enjoying teasing you, you give him a wink instead. “Wives are also supposed to have separate bedrooms. Maybe I’ll just insist on that.”

“You wouldn’t.” His lower lip immediately comes out at the prospect and he shakes his head. “You enjoyed your temperature controlled Snuggie every night.”

“Of course I wouldn’t.” But he is so very adorable when he pouts, and teasing is a tone that becomes you both. You are at your lightest and happiest when you are able to tease each other. “Besides, as newlyweds, this is technically our honeymoon.”

“Yes it is.” He hums, pulling you closer. “So perhaps I can take a walk with my wife in the gardens so I can kiss my bride?”

The warmth in your cheeks is essentially a fire now, with the way he keeps harping on the titles of bride and wife. “I think we could probably steal away for a little while after supper,” you hum, having to look away or else you’ll get lost in his eyes entirely. To the rest of the room you just look demure. “Yayo won’t mind.”

“Of course he won’t.” Your grandfather had taken him out to find you a proper ring, stating that it wasn’t acceptable to have you with a bare finger, even if you had eloped. The ring is extraordinary and there’s a sense pride knowing he can give you something to bring back to your proper time.

“I wish I could say we should go sit in the teahouse but it hasn’t been built yet.” It was something of a surprise to discover the miniature cottage does not exist yet, but when you had casually mentioned to your mother in your walk that it would be a darling place to take tea, she had jumped on the idea and promised to mention it to her mother.

“I still find it amusing that you are responsible for the tea house.” He snorts, having cackled when you had told him about the conversation. “I wonder how the fireplace is coming along?”

“Who knows? I doubt they’re looking for us, all things considered. Yayo and Mrs. Taylor will know better.” Still, you can’t help but smile at the irony of being responsible for the building of your own favourite retreat. “It seems I’m responsible for my mother’s favourite lamb dish, the teahouse, and my own name.”

“I wish I could have named myself.” Max snorts. “Would have picked something way better.”

“I like your name.” This time it’s your turn to pout, just to continue the teasing tone of the night. Although this teasing makes you lower your voice. There hasn’t been much physical intimacy between you, but the more nights you share a bed, the more you want to share that with him. “One syllable makes it easier to moan.”

“Oh Maximilian.” He creates a high falsetto and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, it’s really great.”

“It’s Max, and that’s no more ridiculous than Dolly.” You point out with a soft snort.

“Doll, baby doll, good girl.” Max grins lasciviously at you and winks. “All of them will sound amazing when they are muffed against your neck or between your thighs.”

“How am I supposed to be proper with you talking like that?” At this point you know it just encourages him to be scolded, but you don’t mind. Not really. Not when you’ve quickly found yourself daydreaming about him in all sorts of very graphic ways.

“I guess the one good thing about all these layers is that no one would ever know that you are wet.” He hums quietly, his lips against your ear.

“Except you.” For this precise moment, you will not give even a second thought to the fact that your grandfather can certainly smell that too. He doesn’t know it’s you, and for all you know half the ladies here are hot and bothered. For you, all that matters right now is Max.

******

After the night is winding down, the morning sky is starting to peak over the edge of the horizon. Luckily, the drapes are heavy and can block out the sun so that the house can sleep the day away after dancing all night. Max loosens his tie as you sit down at your little table to pull the pins for the flowers and sparkling beads out of your hair.

“Suddenly I understand why all the ladies who dresses like this had maids,” you sigh. Exhausted but happy is a wonderful way to go to bed, and the pre-sunrise breakfast served to the remaining guests has warmed you through entirely.

“For tonight, you will just have to have your husband suffice.” Max has shucked his jacket, leaving his vest buttoned and his shirts first three buttons undone with his tie hanging around his neck as he walks towards you. Watching you in the mirror as he moves closer.

He really has no right to be so drop dead handsome. It would be unfair if he wasn’t your soulmate. As it is it’s an enormous distraction, as you can feel him walking toward you but only see his clothing in the silver-backed mirror in your vanity table. His frame is obvious in that reflection but not the face you’ve become so fond of, so you turn around on your stool to smile at him softly. “You were wonderful tonight, by the way. I overheard some ladies gossiping about you after we danced.”

“Yeah?” He smirks and tilts his head. “What did they say? Jealous of how we danced? That I enjoy whisking my bride around the ballroom?”

“There was a little speculation about our passionate elopement,” you tell him, an amused little grin blossoming on your face. “Apparently the way we dance is almost too sexy for the 1880s.”

“Is that right?” He chuckles and waggles his brows playfully. “If they only knew what we could have danced.”

“I think doing an Argentine Tango for these people might give them all heart attacks.” It’s…Something to think about, though. Imagining the deep, very obvious intimacy of that kind of dance with him.

“Very provocative.” Max murmurs, reaching out and cupping your face. “Especially because you would just have to wear that nightgown thing to dance it properly.”

"Chemise." His hand seems to cover half of your face with no effort at all, but you melt into the gesture just as if you were a flower that he was inspecting in the garden. "It's called a chemise, and those are see through as you well know."

“It’s my favorite goddamn thing you wear.” He snorts and bites his lip as he looks down at you. “Still, you couldn’t wear the bulky dresses. Maybe put some pants on you. Really give them a sight to see.”

"It's your favourite because it basically doesn't exist." He had been nearly speechless last night when he came into your shared room to find you sitting up in bed in the thin white slip, which despite being fairly ornate is definitely not sturdy in any way.

"i'm not saying you should walk around naked," Max huffs with a grin on his face. "But you should walk around naked." He had though he had done fairly well in not staring and his hands hadn't strayed during the the night. He deserves bonus points for that. Whoever thought skimpy was better, obvious never appriecated the sexiness of innocently sheer and covering.

“So should you.” Your last bits of jewelry go on the vanity table, stripping away the trinkets that have been weighing you down all night. It isn’t that you necessarily had been planning to take the next step forward with Max, but the opportunity has just sort of…fallen into your lap. And after the way you’ve been feeling all night, you actually don’t want to waste it. “We both could? Just…around this one little room?”

Max stares at you for a moment in shock, unsure of what you mean. "I guess you won't get offended if I'm sporting wood?" He asks finally, chuckling at himself for being so damn wary when he was a fucking man-whore in his previous life.

“That’s more of a compliment than an offense.” The tension in the room has risen a little, not from anything more than interest and wanting. Desire has been thick in the air between you all night. “Only if you want to, handsome. No pressure or anything.”

“Baby doll, you have no idea the things I want to do to you.” Max groans, unable to resist being a little bit of that former playboy while discussing intimacy with his soulmate. Even if he has displayed a lot more restraint and consideration than anyone who knew him before would ever expect, you’re gorgeous and he wants you.

The freedom you’ve felt in this time doesn’t necessarily boil down to just one factor, but since the biggest thing holding you back has been removed from your path to happiness you have felt lighter than air. Smiling up at Max from your place in front of the vanity, you tilt your head slightly to one side and take in the sight of your stunning soulmate. “Maybe…” You end up biting your lip again, nervousness and excitement washing over you. “You could show me?”

It’s instantaneous, his fangs springing out of his gums and his eyes taking on a lighter, yellower hue as his desires take hold. His face doesn’t shift, but his jaw clenches. “You have to be sure.” He nearly growls. “Once I touch you…”

The intensity of desire a vampire has for their mortal soulmate has been explained to you. This sort of reaction isn’t totally unexpected. But knowing that Max’s desire will never spill over into rage makes all the difference. “I’m sure,” you promise him, nodding once as you meet his bright eyes.

Breathing isn’t necessary, but Max exhales roughly. His entire body hardening at the thought of finally being able to touch you like he’s imagined as you dream in his arms. “What do you want me to not do, my little doll?” He asks. “Tell me now, please.”

He already knows that any kind of name calling is off the books, which your certain is one of the reasons that he so consistently uses sweet little pet names for you. What you haven’t discussed previously is specifics of your sexual history, which is why you are so, so grateful for this moment right here. “No restraints,” you tell him honestly, knowing that the old chestnut of using a tie to keep hands out of the way will have you spiraling instead of moaning. “And no degradation. Those are the hard lines that I can’t cross.”

“No restraints, no degradation.” He can quickly agree to that, having no want to make you feel embarrassed about what happens between you. “Biting?” He groans out, knowing he can be shot down. “Off limits?”

“No fangs until we get a chance to talk?” The topic hadn’t been touched since it was mentioned in passing early last night, and now is hardly the time to stop everything for a heart-to-heart.

“O-okay.” That part will be a little more difficult for him, especially at that sweet vein in your inner thigh, but he has enough restraint to abide by your wishes. “Regular teeth only.”

“We can talk about fangs for next time.” Your hand cradles his jaw softly and you give him an encouraging smile. There will absolutely be a next time. As far as you’re concerned, this morning is the beginning of something.

“Nothing you don’t want.” Max reassures. “But I will be showing off my oral skills in other ways.” He smirks. “I’m more than just a pretty set of fangs.”

“You keep saying that.” The teasing hum is back in your voice. “I’m afraid I’m going to need you to prove it.”

“With the dress on, or off?” Max’s eyes gleam in challenge and it takes a conscious effort to make his fangs retract. “Lay down on the bed, my sweet Dolly.”

“In a bustle?” The skeptical look on your face says all it needs to, and you stand from your place in the bench. “I am not explaining to Mrs. Taylor that we crushed a silk evening gown because you couldn’t wait to eat me out. Help me get out of this thing first.”

In the blink of an eye, Max is beside you, spinning you around to start untying your gown. Eager to get to your skin underneath.

It had been fun to wear all night, right up until this moment. The clasps and hooks holding your bodice in place all have to go. Bodice. Skirt. Corset cover. Petticoats. Layer after layer lifts away until all that remains is the corset laced snuggly around your waist and the chemise beneath it. Even your stockings have already been rolled down your legs, tossed aside to be forgotten about on the rug until later.

Max grins and pushes you down onto the bed playfully, still fully dressed and winks at you. “Now, what was that about needing to prove something?” He teases.

“If you want to be teacher’s pet, I’ll make up a little grading system for you,” you tease, remembering what your Yayo had said about Max being kind of a suck up in college.

“Don’t tempt me with a good time.” He strips off the tie and tosses it down. “Let’s see how fast I can get graded.”

In just your chemise and corset, the effect of having Max lie you out in that giant four-poster bed is sort of like the most romantic pornography of all time. The stiff, starched collar from his shirt has been rejected along with all the other trinkets from his suit tonight, and while his jacket might have technically ended up on a chair it certainly wasn’t graceful. He looks like the charming hero of some Victorian novel that’s about to fully debauch himself and can’t wait to take you with him. And it’s better because it’s you he’s talking with you. “Just because you finish the test first doesn’t mean you get the best grade, Max,” you warn him in a teasing singsong.

“Baby doll, you haven’t seen what my tongue can do.” He promises, flicking it out of his mouth and its slightly longer than normal. Another positive to being a vampire.

One knee at a time, Max settles into the valley between your thighs and carefully pushes the hem of your chemise up your legs, doing his best to control the urge to just tear the fabric to get at your core as quickly as possible. When you swallow a breath and lay back against the pillows, you nod and caress his shoulder. “I’m sure,” you promise him.

“I know, baby girl.” He coos. “You just lay back and let me make you see the stars.” He knows that Derek didn’t treat you right, but he’s determined to erase that man’s touch on your mind, body and soul.

Without modern panties — and even without the ridiculous crotchless pantaloons worn in this time — as soon as your shift is pushed up and the cool night air brushes your skin, the difference in a vampiric lover is obvious. There’s no unpleasant memory of hot breath on your body or of searing hot touch making you squirm away. Max’s cool skin is a balm to wash away the bad memories, replacing them with promises of the future. The first touch of his lips and longer tongue to the apex of your sighs earns him a sharp inhale from you, but just as soon as it comes you sigh and relax into the bed a hair more. Even just a kiss over your clit is enough to tell you how different a lover Max will be from anything you’ve had before.

“Fuck you’re so sweet.” Max groans, pulling away from your clit to just look at swollen flesh. “I can feast on you all night.”

A breathless laugh comes from deep in your chest, and you run one hand through his short hair. “It’s morning, love. You’ve got all day, instead.”

“I’ll do it through the day and into the night.” Max snorts, smirking at the idea even if you can’t see it.

“I believe you would.” In fact, you don’t doubt it for a second. Especially not with the way he dives back in for another taste that has your head falling back on the pillow all over again.

Max is cocky when it comes to sex, but he’s got something to prove. He wants to show you how good it will be with him. Wanting to make sure you know that your soulmate will lick your pussy anytime you want.

It’s been years since the last time you had a head between your thighs, and even then you were made to feel like it was an enormous burden. Max descends on your clit like it is his favorite treat in the world and he has been starved of it. Ravenous for the taste of you and insatiable in his hunger.

Max feeds off your sounds, loving the soft, restrained moans that you are trying to keep quiet. Wanting to make it to where you forget anyone else is in the house, he squeezes your thighs and pushes his tongue deep inside you.

Your moans pitch up immediately, a sharp gasp bursting out of you like an explosion and your fingers in his hair tightening instinctively. This has been one of your favorite intimacies, oh so long ago, and even though you’ve told yourself that it wasn’t worth missing, you have. The trust involved in giving someone else complete access to your soul is nothing to turn up your nose at, after all.

Max moans into your flesh, inhaling the heady scent of your arousal as he tastes it on his tongue. You are fresh off your cycle and he twitches in his pants at the thought of tongue fucking you to soothe your cramps.

It isn't restraining, the way Max has his forearms wrapped around your thighs, holding you open for that mutual enjoyment as he dives deeper and deeper into your cunt. It's cradling you. Treasuring you. And it's so damn good. The fingers of your free hand tangle in the sheets on your other side but you're not sure you won't need them to stifle your own moans. The amount of pressure he's putting on your most sensitive areas is perfect and every flick of his tongue is another sharp jolt of pleasure that has your chest heaving in the corset still tied around your torso.

He can’t see your face but he can feel the beating of your heart through your body. Smell the sweet blood swimming in your veins and it makes him ravenous. Intent on making sure you scream his name when you cum.

Every pass of his tongue over your core, every probe and every lick ticks your heartbeat up that much faster until you feel like your head is swimming and you know your thighs are shaking. The very direct way he's chosen to tongue fuck you as if his afterlife depends on it almost makes you feel like you're laying on a choppy sea and he's the only thing keeping you from sinking.

Large hands start to squeeze your thighs. Stroking from your knee down to your hips. Encouraging you to give in to him as his tongue works harder and harder, the ability to not breathe working in his favor as he doesn’t let up to gasp for air.

It’s almost overwhelming because he never has to let up. He dives in over and over again, lapping up every bit of dripping wetness that you have for him and drinking it down like a man starved but he never has to pause or even shift in his attention. It has you building up and up and up on a mountain that feel like the peak of pleasure is impossibly high but deliriously tantalizing to reach. The moment that sends you into hazy bliss though, isn’t the typical oncoming orgasm. It’s when Max wraps his lips around your swollen clit and sucks — sharp and with a groan that reverberates through your whole body. Your back lifts off the mattress and you barely manage to stifle half the keening sound you make, going boneless and letting your legs open as wide as they will go. Just begging him to do it again.

Max groans, growling slightly and his entire soul seems to brighten as you come apart for him. Body vibrating as he absorbs your pleasure as if it were his own, maybe it is. Maybe this is what it’s like to be with your soulmate. Consuming him completely as your thighs shake around his head.

It comes on all at once, mere minutes after he began, and if Max was aiming to bowl you over with sheer skill then he should take the near wail of his name as you start to cum as a signal that he has done extremely well. It washes over you all at once, bending your back and making your legs squeeze his head tight, which only earns you another groan.

The only thing missing is the sight of your face as you cum. Max closes his eyes and imagines it, his face starting to shift in his excitement. Bones knitting and becoming heavier, sharper. His growl deepening although he makes sure to keep his fangs retracted. Not wanting to pierce your delicate flesh. Perhaps one day you would let him bite your lip and lick the blood from your cunt.

Unexpected and rumbling, the depth of the growl between your legs makes your eyes shoot open. Still darkened with lust, when you look down at Max to find him transformed between your thighs, something even more unexpected makes your cunt ache at the sight of someone so powerful unraveled and needy for you. "Do it again, love." You can hear the ferocity in your own voice, the demand and the need. Desire and a type of desperation that you've never felt before. The need for more. "Again. Just like that."

Max’s yellow eyes flicker, darken even more to a burnt amber as he tightens his grip on your thighs. Not enough to hurt you, not even at his most powerful would he ever hurt you. His snarl of obedience bounces off the walls of the room and his eager tongue buries itself back in your cunt to carry out your surprisingly arousing order.

______

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My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Max Phillips #Max Phillips x you #Max Phillips x reader #Max Phillips x female reader #Max Phillips x f!reader #Bloodsucking Bastards #soulmate au #time travel #witches #vampires #mysterious inheritance #it's the gilded age bitches!

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auburnitzy · 9 months

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How the TRAFFIC LIGHT TRIO realize that they have feelings for you

CHARACTERS — RED SON + MK + MEI (SEPERATE)

DISCALIMER - PURE FLUFF

WORDS - 790+ words

(Do not follow if you want to see more content of this. I only do this rarely and I am mainly an OC x Canon blog).

RED SON (260 words)

Red Son is familiar with seeing love from a third-person's perspective. He's seen how his parents deeply love one another, so he has a general idea of what happens when one falls on love.

... Or so he thought. When Red Son develops feelings for you, he will mistake it for hatred. He will act more stand-offish and aloof with you, and in turn, you act defensive around him.

But he'll accidentally spill his unrecognized feelings to one of the other members.

"That annoying brat (Y/N) gets on my nerves." He huffs, crossing his arms. "Even the sight of them makes my heart race. I despise them so much."

Mei, who watches romcoms and is familiar with the emotional language Red Son speaks, quickly snapped her head towards him, eyes wide and jaw agape before it turned into a mischievous and teasing smile. "Ooh~! Somebody's got a crush~!"

Red Son sputters, blinking in surprise with his eyes furrowed. "What an absurd notion!-"

Later after that, he researches the symptoms of love in order to deny it - but instead, an epiphany comes to him the longer he researched the symptoms.

Red Son's stubborn, but he's not delusional to deny the evidence that was presented right in front of his eyes.

He'll still be the same, fiery-tempered Red Son, but towards you, he's a bit softer.

His stares will linger, and the tips of his hair will sizzle and produce smoke (and in rare cases, catches fire).

The rest of the Traffic Light Trio will complain about his obvious favortism towards you.

MEI (270 words)

Similar to Red Son, Mei is familiar with seeing love from a third-person's perspective, but also terrible at realizing her own feelings.

At first, she'll mistake her romantic feelings for admiration. She'll turn clingy, will invite you to hangout with her and MK (she'd actually prefer it if he didn't, only sometimes!) frequently, and will show you off on her streams and social media (with consent, of course!)

Realization happens one day while she's at her home, texting you until you send a message with the combination of a smiley-face and a heart emoji.

Immediately, she lies down on her stomach, a pillow below her chin as she giggles and kicks her feet.

When she's done doing that, she immediately widens her eyes in surprise as she gasps, her hands feeling the heat in her cheeks as realization settled.

"Oh gosh, I'm in love with them..!"

It takes her more than 10 minutes to even reply back.

From that point on, she'll become even more clingy, and will increase the amount of trackers and hidden cameras on you. (She canonically does this in the show.)

She's a competitive person, and she can't stand losing you to someone else, so she'll confess as soon as she gets the signal that you like her too.

If she hasn't received any signals yet, she'll be bit territorial over you.

"Haha! Yeah!" She chuckled, wrapping an arm around your neck as she puts her cheek against yours. "This is (Y/N)! We're extremely close, so we're like, more than besties!"

"Oh, so like, best-best friends?" MK inquired.

Mei's eye only twitched back in reply.

MK (264 words)

I doubt MK even knows what he is feeling most of the time, let alone romantic feelings, so it'll take him a really, really long time to realize that he loves you.

He'll mistake his feelings for you for friendship and deep admiration. Even when his heart beats faster around you, or his stares linger a bit too long on you, or the fact that even the simplest of things, such as your smile... or your presence in general, will brighten up his whole day.

He gets so confused that he'll either ask Pigsy or Tang (maybe even both) about the things he's feeling.

"Why does my heart beat so fast when I'm around (Y/N)?" MK tilted his head in confusion. "And why do they often appear on my mind? And why are they so amazing?"

Meanwhile (Pigsy/Tang) will just feel three things at once; exasperation, disbelief, and amusement, because how is MK so dense to the point that he's literally describing the symptoms of being lovestruck to them?

"MK, buddy, you're in love."

"Oh!" MK blinked, before averting his gaze as he scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment with a nervous smile. "... Oh. Haha... I guess I am!"

... He didn't even deny it.

After that, he'll become more touchy, will show-off his abilities to you more frequently along with receiving neat, little gifts here and there (he's been saving up for those!).

All of his friends know about it. Not just the rest of the Traffic Light Trio, but the whole Monkie Gang.

And they're all rooting for him.

#monkie kid #monkie kid x reader #qi xiaotian x reader #red son x reader #mei x reader #lmk mk x reader #monkie kid mk x reader #long xiaojiao x reader #lego monkie kid #☆ writing ☆

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pedgito · 1 year

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𝐝𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞 — 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐧!𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary: growing up together was hard enough, it didn’t help that you were hopelessly trapped by both of them, wondering which one would win you over in the end—because honestly, why couldn’t you have both?

cw: 18+ (minors dni), munson twins, eddie’s brother is nameless (up to your own interpretation), virgin!eddie, his brother is a whore (and proud about it), unrequited crushes/pining, degradation toward reader (slight, just a couple insults), protected/unprotected sex, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, this smut is literally polar opposite and purely self indulgence, a little manhandling on his brother’s part, eddie’s a natural blonde don’t attack me it’s my own person headcanon. if i missed anything lmk!

word count: 8.3k

Eddie had been a large part of your life, through childhood and then on, your friendship only strengthening into high school and when Eddie got held back, it made things easier somehow, despite how much it affected things for Eddie in the long run, he still tried to make the most of it—even if his twin brother made his life a living hell on a daily basis.

His brother wasn’t too bright either, as much as he tried. Eddie has trouble focusing and understanding, processing things slower than normal students—he had the capability, but Eddie needed the extra love and attention that no one wanted to show him. His brother on the other hand, it had to be lack of caring—if it weren’t for Eddie being so adamant about graduating he would’ve dropped out and settled for a GED and put all the stupid high school shit to rest. But the truth is, they did everything together—if Eddie wanted to tough it out, so was he.

There was a brief interim in your childhood when Eddie and his brother had come to live with you when their mother died and their dad disappeared soon after, but eventually they settled into the trailer with Wayne, their uncle, who was one of the sweetest men you’d had the opportunity to know.

It was a mystery how he put up with the Munson twins, because even you couldn’t handle it some days.

“You could just kick him out,” You suggest to Eddie, chair shoved as close as possible beside his, knees touching as you rested your feet on the edge of table, “I don’t think any of us would miss him.”

“And listen to him bitch for the rest of the year?” Eddie asks redundantly, “No fucking thank you.”

“He doesn’t even like Dungeons and Dragons.” You point out, not that Eddie wasn’t already aware, “It’s painful having to watch him play—like, claw your eyes out painful.”

“He says it helps with the ladies,” Eddie complains with a full eye roll, tossing the pencil he’d been twirling between his fingers on the table, “—like we’re a fetish or some shit.”

You laugh to yourself. It wasn’t that far-fetched, but his counterpart was a lot more liked than him. Eddie had his small group of friends within Hellfire Club and you, it was all he really needed. You couldn’t say the same for the carbon copy sitting across from you, his face scrunching up in the same way Eddie’s does when he’s concentrating—if it weren’t for his short cropped hair they’d be impossible to tell apart look-wise. Their personalities however couldn’t be more different.

“I think it’s him that’s fetishizing us.” You tell Eddie, catching his brother’s heated gaze across the room, a disgusting smirk gracing his face. “Not who he’s hooking up with.”

“I’m not talking to him,” Eddie shakes his head adamantly, “I live with the dumbass, that’s already painful enough.”

“You’re such a baby,” You tease Eddie, punching gently at his thigh, “—What, do you want me to talk to him?”

Eddie shrugs, but his answer is clear in his face, unable to meet your stare.

“Eddie, he hates me.” You remind him, eyes squinting in annoyance as you look up toward his brother, gaze still as intense as ever and you’re not sure he’s looked away at all in the past few minutes, like he can hear the conversation you’re having, smug look on his face as he raises his hand to flip you off playfully. You force a tight smile, returning the gesture.

“Scratch that—I think it’s just me that really hates him.”

“Understandable.” Eddie chirps quietly, but it doesn’t change his unspoken plea.

“Fuck, fine.” You sigh when Eddie’s pout refuses to fade, shoving your bag at him. “Wait for me in the van, crybaby.”

Eddie grins slightly, hugging the bag tight. He knew which angles of you to work, read you like a book, and you fell for it every goddamn time.

Eddie’s brother senses your approach before you can even make yourself known, turning on you in his chair with the same annoying grin he had earlier.

“Whatever you’re gonna say, I don’t care.” You tell him firstly, holding your hand out to stop him, “Eddie wants you out.”

He ruffles a hand through his curls cooly, his hair fighting against the mountain of product he had in it—most of it was for show, shaping his hair away from his face to show off his features. He knew he was attractive, you knew it—it wasn’t lost on anyone. But, you’ve seen him outside of school on his worst days, just as less put together as Eddie was on most days. The difference was that Eddie wasn’t worried about everyone’s perception—his brother stressed over it everyday, even if he didn’t show it.

“Eddie,” He says slowly, like he’s testing the word out, “my own brother?”

“Well Eddie, and me, and every other person here.” You tell him admittedly, watching his grin grow wider. “Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?” He chuckles slightly, rolling the unsmoked joint in his fingers, your eyes widening at the sight of it. “I’m listening to you talk—isn’t that what you want?”

“You’re fucking insane,” You scold, snatching the joint from his hand, holding it up, “Are you trying to get us in trouble?”

“It’s my weed, sweetheart.”

“In our club room, that we manage as a group—the last thing we need is you getting caught with drugs on campus.”

He snatches the joint back with ease, stuffing it into his jacks pocket. Your arms cross over your chest defiantly, frustration growing.

“Look—wear the fucking shirt or don’t, but stop showing up to meetings and campaigns, for the love of god—“

“What?” He asks teasingly, “Am I really that difficult to be around?”

“Yes.” You answer quickly, causing his face to fall slightly.

“Whatever.” He shrugs off, leaning forward to stand, towering above you slightly. “Figures my brother’s too much of a pussy to just tell me, he’s gotta send his little bitch to do his bidding—“

You make a loud ‘pfft’ in response, quickly reaching forward to snatch the joint from his pocket, holding it on display between your fingers.

“Good, because this little bitch is taking this as payment for thinking you can get away with calling me anything other than my name.”

He’s speechless for once, not even attempting to pull the joint away. You smile kindly, shoving the joint into your own pocket and turning on your heels.

“See you tonight,” You sing patronizingly over your shoulder, knowing he’d pop up at the trailer at some point, “maybe Eddie and I will save you some if there’s any left.”

You’re gone before he can respond, approaching Eddie in the parking lot a few short minutes later, passing the joint into his hands.

“What the fuck?” Eddie asks out of confusion, “Where did you get this?”

“Seems like he went digging into your stash,” You smile in amusement, “since Rick won’t sell to him.”

“Yeah, because he’d kill the product before he even had a chance to sell it, not that he has any capability for that.”

“Oh, burn.” You comment, holding Eddie’s hand up in front of his face, joint still tight between his thumb and forefinger. “As a celebration for successfully booting your brother out of Hellfire, we can smoke it in his honor.”

“Since when do you smoke?” Eddie asks with a soft laugh, pulling his hand away from your grip, eyes narrowing slightly as he looks at you.

“It’s a special occasion,” You shrug, “besides, your brother really stresses me out.”

Eddie snorts at your obvious qualms, hands extending fancifully toward his trusty van, the only constant in his life besides you and and his brother.

“Well, it’s not going to smoke itself, so…” Eddie adds, watching as you quickly skittered around the passenger side, hoping in with a grin that spread across your entire face.

“I do think I hurt his feelings though,” You tell Eddie, the image flashing in your head again, “you two have a really pitiful sad face—“

Eddie frowns at that, mostly as a joke, but you jab your finger in his direction to prove a point.

“You look like sad little puppies, it’s infuriating.” You complain, shoving his face away gently as he started the ignition.

“Add it to the list, sweetheart,”

“Where is he anyways?” You ask curiously, joint held between your lips as you inhaled, tip burning a bright, amber red before you’re passing it back to Eddie carefully.

“Well, it’s Friday so—probably a date.” Eddie shrugs, taking a couple slow drags himself, laid flat on his back as he stares up at the ceiling. You glance over at the other empty bed shoved in the corner of the room. “Or in some girl's bed.”

You weren’t sure how they made it work, both of them living in such a small space—but if they could share a womb together, they could make anything work. Plus, they weren’t exactly swimming in cash. Wayne was still working overtime at the plant and Eddie was stowing away what he could from his drug sales—as for his brother, it was a mystery.

“You know, I’d take it as a compliment.” You can see the hard line of worry on his face, lost in his own thoughts. “He tries to act so much like you.”

“Yeah, but he parades it around like it’s a character.” Eddie replies, passing the joint over. You slip it between your lips, falling to your stomach beside him until your faces are nearly parallel to each other. “And it doesn’t help that half the school thinks I’m a fuckin’ freak while everyone is eating that shit up when he does it.”

You pull the joint from your own lips and slip it between his wordlessly, his eyes falling shut as he grabs for it, fingers grazing your own. His touch was nothing but comfort anymore—it didn’t surprise Wayne the first time he caught you two cuddled on the couch with your hands wrapped around each other, having fallen asleep halfway through a movie.

Besides, Eddie knows nothing will ever come of it.

“I see right through it.”

“Yeah, but that’s because you know him. You know us. He can’t pull that shit here, that’s why he acts the way he does at school.”

“He’s an attention whore.” You say, only half-joking.

Eddie laughs to himself, finishing off the last of the joint before stubbing it out, “Since the day he was born.”

You tilt your head slightly in question, wondering where he was taking the conversation.

“Born first, walked first, it never fails. Do you remember when I first came to live with you back in elementary?”

You make a skeptical face, nose scrunching up in amusement.

“Yeah, of course.”

“You kept confusing us, back before I grew my hair out long. I stopped trying to correct you after a while, but for a week when you thought you were talking to me, it was actually just him.”

Your mouth drops open in shock, disgust crossing your face.

“And you kept that to yourself for this long?” You ask.

“It’s just proof of how easily he can portray himself as me and get away with it. I’m always last to everything—and girls run the other direction when they see me.”

You’ve seen it firsthand, the grimace and turn to sneak away somewhere else, the blatant way people ignore Eddie even when he’s just trying to be friendly—despite it all, he still keeps a smile on his face, no matter how much it bothers him.

“I don’t,” You say pointedly, grabbing at the hand resting against his stomach to twist the jewelry adorning each finger, pressing the palm against your cheek to offer a warm smile, “I’m always here.”

“That’s not what I mean.” Eddie says, pulling his hand away gently to stuff it behind his head. “You’re different.”

You pull away slightly, a little dejected.

“No—shit, I don’t mean it like that.” Eddie quickly clears up, “I just—we don’t look at each other that way, right?”

“Are you asking me that? Or yourself?” You counter, knowing full well where this conversation could take you, but you couldn’t be bothered to care.

“Don’t say that.” Eddie brow furrows in frustration, mouth downturned slightly. It wasn’t quite a frown, but a face of fear, unknowingness.

“Eddie, seriously.” You tell him monotone—no jokes, no stupid attempts to make him feel better. “Ask yourself that.”

“You always talk about how much my brother disgusts you.” Eddie defends weakly. “Doesn’t that kinda translate over or something, since we’re twins?”

“His personality disgusts me, yes.” You clarify, “But I’d be blind to not find you two attractive—I don’t think I’ve ever tried to hide that. I call you cute all the time.”

“Yeah, but—cute as in like “oh, cute”, that’s different.” Eddie tells you like he’s got it all figured out. But, he’s so stubbornly stuck in his own ways that he doesn’t even realize what you’re trying to hint at.

“Eddie.” You say his name with a little more urgency, face protesting a vulnerability that only felt safe with him. “You’re hot, is that what you want me to say?”

Eddie’s face turns a beet red, traveling up to the tips of his ears. He can’t form a single word in the English language without making a complete fool of himself, so he stays quiet.

“Dude, I will deflower you—if that’s what you want.” You tell him, skipping past the nuisance of hoping he’d catch on.

“I’m not a flower.” Eddie pouts, reminding you exactly what you liked him so much.

“God, Eddie—I want to have sex with you.”

Eddie sits up slightly, eyeing you carefully—it’s like he’s taking you in under a new light, “Won’t that make things weird?”

“Not unless you want it to.” You shrug, mimicking his actions and raising to your knees. “Casual sex is fun, you know?”

“I wouldn’t know.” Eddie reminds you softly, eyes wandering toward his lap aimlessly.

“Do you want to?”

Eddie eyes you hesitantly, scared that this might ruin everything. There was never a doubt in your mind that it would, but Eddie’s a constant worrier and you can see it bothering him already. You smile comfortingly, holding up your pinky to him.

“Only if you want to, Eddie.” You explain, eyes soft as you look at him, his own features softening in response, “It changes nothing, I promise.”

Eddie smiles slightly, reaching his pinky up to wrap around your own, signifying just how fast everything was about to change.

The giggles set in soon after, fumbling through the slow drag of clothes as you pull Eddie’s shirt over his head, his worn mattress creaking as you moved around to stand, pulling him up by his jeans and fumbling with his belt before shoving him back down, following as you fell to your knees on the floor between his spread legs.

“Oh! No, that’s—“ Eddie interjects quickly, hands held out midair and unsure of where to land, “we can skip to the good part if that’s easier.”

“You’ve never had your dick sucked before have you?” You ask, unzipping his pants in the same action, his chest heaving sharply as he took a breath. “That is the fun part—sex is fun but so is everything else.”

“I just don’t want you to feel like—“

“Eddie,” You pause, waiting for him to make eye contact with you, “I’m saying this was all the love I have for you—shut up.”

Eddie laughs weakly, “Okay, okay. Sorry.”

“Here, hips up—“ Eddie obeys, lifting his hips high enough for you to yank them down to his knees and off his legs, leaving him naked aside from his underwear, dick already tenting his boxers despite having not touched or even kissed you.

It’s endearing actually, teeth digging into your bottom lip as your finger pulls at his boxers testingly, waiting for him to give you the go ahead. He nods, face pinched together in concentration as you pull the piece of clothing away, eyes turned toward the ceiling in an attempt to calm himself.

Well, that and if he looks at you with his dick in your mouth he knows it won’t last long.

And admittedly, you didn’t have any expections—knowing Eddie for so long took out the intial awkwardness you would usually feel with sexual partners.

“Last chance to back out.” You joke, Eddie’s laugh getting caught in his throat.

“No—no, I’m good.” Eddie nods.

The first touch is careful, taking his cock in your hands gently, watching the hard ridge of his neck as swallows, eyes carefully calculated toward the ceiling. You’ve never really cared much for size or looks, dicks weren’t really there for show, but Eddie’s easily takes the cake. He’s perfect, girthy, and just the right length to not immediately scare you at the idea of taking him inside you—which is a very real fear in your case, your tongue swiping against the flushed tip teasingly, and Eddie releases a shaky breath.

“You okay?” You ask curiously, his hands white knuckling his sheets. They lessen slightly at your words, nodding his head silently.

It’s enough confirmation for you, taking half the length of him in your mouth in one go, tongue flattening against the bottom as back up, gathering a small bit of saliva to spit out over the head. The noise is enough to have him choking on air, his breath coming out in soft pants.

“Eddie,” You say melodically, eyes peering up at him as your tongue stretched across the underside of his shaft. Eddie looks down shyly, landing on you immediately, “you can look, I don’t care.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” Eddie admits, “I don’t think I can, not if I want this to last.”

You shrug coolly, “Just tell me to stop if it gets too much or too close.”

You blame the boldness in your calmed nerves, laughing softly as you took him in your mouth again, his eyebrows melting into one as he groaned, plush lips parting slightly.

“Fuck, that’s—“ Eddie sighs, “holy shit.”

You giggle to yourself, leaning down to roll your tongue around the tight sack of his balls, pulling just the sound you expect out of him—a strangled gasp at the unexpected action, murmuring a soft, “You can’t—you can’t do that.”

“Too much?”

Eddie nods weakly, his hand hovering on his knee, wanting to touch but not knowing if he should. You do the work for him, burying his fingers around the curve of your head, squeezing until he grips a small portion of your hair.

“You lead, okay?” You instruct. Eddie offers a quiet acknowledgement, watching as you close your lips around the head of his cock, the pressure of his hand featherlight as he motioned you down, stammering out words that you couldn’t make out until he finds a manageable rhythm—it’s slow, but it works. Eventually you find yourself growing bored, pushing a little further than he’s expecting as he tips the back of your throat. He tugs at your hair involuntarily, shoving you deeper until you’re gagging around him, pulling away with rugged gasp.

“Shit, sorry.” Eddie quickly apologizes, pulling away as you caught your breath, eyes watering from the sudden intrusion.

You shake your head, wiping at your mouth with the back of your hand. “It’s okay—I probably shouldn’t have done that.”

Eddie laughs in disbelief, resting back on the palms of his hands, feeling more comfortable with himself than earlier.

“Can I—“ The words linger, his eyes traveling to the jeans still on your body, “I’ve never—I mean I’m probably really bad but I wanna try.”

“Sure.” You answer with a giddy nod, it was often that men offered and you weren’t about to turn down the opportunity, even if it took a little coaching.

Eddie switches positions, waiting until you’re laid out underneath him to pull at your pants, catching onto the hem of your underwear and yanking them off in one go, tugging at where they get caught around your ankles. Eddie laughs, the clothes flying out of his hands comically at how roughly he tugs.

When he’s finally settled his eyes wander up towards yours curiously, waiting for instructions—he knows that you know how clueless he is and he’s accepting how embarrassing it may be. But, he’s a pleaser and eager as ever.

“There’s not much to it,” You tell him, “—here, let me see your hand.”

He’s not completely inept, his fingers spreading through your folds without being told, his middle finger dragging down the seam toward your entrance, barely breaching.

You giggle slightly, chest shaking at the motion, “Up here,” You tell him, dragging his finger up toward the small bundle of nerves, “that’s where it feels the best.”

His finger rubs experimentally at the sensitive nub, the nod you give in response is enough to lead him down the right path, he licks at his fingers instinctively to wet them before pressing them back against your clit—it’s enough to make your body run hot, knowing that he doesn’t even realize what he just did.

“Huh—okay, so basically just do the same thing with your tongue and you can use your fingers too—,” Eddie slips a finger inside of you gradually, a vivacious grin on his face as he eases inside, “yeah, that.”

He urges your legs over his shoulders until he can get a decent grip with one hand, palm wrapping around the top of your thigh to spread your legs open wider, his mouth settling against your cunt, hot breath trapped between your legs as pressed the flat of his tongue against you, dragging it up toward your clit and down again, his finger moving slowly inside of you until he’s knuckle deep, failing to separate his brain into two places as he gets a little too enthusiastic, lips closing around your clit as he flicks his tongue teasingly until it’s nearly unbearable.

“Shit, shit—okay.” You tap at his shoulder gently, “That’s good—just, slower.”

And despite how hard it is for Eddie to focus, he’s still a great listener. He does slow down, attempting to focus on pairing the two together before forgoing his fingers completely, hands wrapped around both your thighs to give his mouth full focus, squeezing at the tender part of your skin with every noise you make, a soft whine leaving your mouth as he flicks the tip of his tongue over your clit, his eyes connected with you briefly—he looks ridiculous, given the circumstances.

Eyes strained red from the weed and half-lidded slightly, feeling triumphant in the way you moan openly at his actions, fingers dragging into his bangs and pulling them back, guiding his face in a subtle motion against your cunt, directing him at the speed you’re searching for and he rolls with it easily, his hips rutting against the sheets absentmindedly.

It isn’t unnoticed to you though, the soft curve of his ass on display as he planned to ruin his sheets further—truthfully, you can’t stand to see it happen.

You push him away gently, his mouth shining with slick wetness as he peers up at you through a haze of lust and being absolutely blazed out of his mind.

“Condoms?” You ask, “You have some, right?”

“Well, no. Obviously.” Eddie answers truthfully, causing you to sigh in response, falling against the bed in defeat, “Wait—actually…”

He leaves the bed briefly, traveling over to his brother’s side to yank open a door, rummaging through it messily. It takes a minute, but he eventually finds a small foil square stuffed in the back, holding it up between his fingers.

“Last one.” Eddie smiles, “Lucky us, I guess.”

“An even bigger fuck you now that he has to buy more.” You comment snidely, watching as Eddie fumbled with the package. “Do you need help?”

“I’m not that clueless, sweetheart.” Eddie says defensively, though his voice is just as endearing. He does get the package open eventually, slipping the condom on with ease—he’s practiced a few times, but it wasn’t something he needed to admit to.

“Do you want to—like this?” You ask him, watching as he positioned himself between your legs, feeling a little uncertain.

“Uh—“ Eddie blanks, searching your eyes briefly, “Maybe you could get on top?”

You grin, nodding eagerly. Eddie surprises you with a hand wrapping around your waist, an unnecessary shoe of strength as he heaves you onto his lap, hips hovering as you reposition yourself. He’s got a firm hand around his shaft, eyes narrowed in concentration as your fingers wrap around his own wrist, guiding him toward your entrance.

It’s slow, gradual, but an instant breath of relief as he sinks inside you, mouth parting with every inch that you took until he’s fully bottomed out and buried inside you to the hilt.

Eddie clears his throat, struggling to keep things normal and level and not completely lose his goddamn mind. He couldn’t even tell you how he ended up in this situation, even if it was staring him right in the face.

“—Eddie, are you with me?” Your voice fades in, Eddie’s attention snapping up to you. “Are you going to survive?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Eddie assures you, his hand settling against your hips, exhaling a shaky breath. “I’m great.”

Your laugh is clipped, a little patronizing as you lift your hips slightly and shift down, “We’ll see about that.”

Eddie’s own laugh dies out on a forceful groan, your hips lifting again as quickly as they come down, just in an effort to tease him.

“That’s—that’s not funny.” Eddie pouts subtly. He could already tell this wasn’t going to last very long, but he wanted to make it worth it—knowing it would never happen again. “Your bra—can I take it off?”

You nod, leaning forward until Eddie can reach around, able to get it on the first try, much to your surprise.

“That’s pretty fucking impresive,” You tell him honestly, sliding the bra down your shoulders and tipping it off to the side, Eddie’s hand already roaming over the expanse of your tits, palming the flesh in his hands. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, biting enough to cause a tinge of pain as an effort to focus on something—anything other than how good you feel around him.

You guide his mouth toward your chest wordlessly, letting him along the dip between your breasts, across the soft mound of flesh, hips lifting synonymously with his movements—it feels easy, but with Eddie, everything always did.

He groans loudly against your skin, head tucked away into your chest as he squeezes at your thigh, blunt nails digging into the flesh. It’s a dull pain but it doesn’t bother you, letting him guide you over his cock in desperation as he opens himself up more and more, panting hotly against your skin.

“Gonna come,” He warns,”—fuck, want you to—to come with me.”

It’s not too much to ask—you would’ve been happy regardless, but the sentiment is noticed. You grab for his hand wordlessly, pressing his thumb over your clot until the pressure is just what you need, guiding him through the motions as his thrusts falter, becoming more and more erratic.

“Fuck, that’s it,” You sigh, the heat growing in your belly quickly, fingers threading into his hair, searching for something to keep you grounded, “—it’s good, keep going.”

Eddie pulls back abruptly, head bouncing harshly against the wall as he takes in the view, the visual of his dick disappearing inside you was the end all, eyes squeezing shut as he came with broken moan, load and punched out, his fingers teetering you over the edge just as quickly, letting out a soft sigh as you clamped around him, over-sensitivity kicking in as you swatted his hand away, hips rocking through the high of your orgasm as it fades quickly and leaves you aching for more.

“What the fuck?” Eddie asks out loud, not to anyone in particular as he sits in a state of disbelief, “That was—“

You chuckle, falling against his chest in a deep state of exhaustion. “It was good, Eddie.” You assure him.

“You’re lying.” He teases, pressing a finger into your side playfully.

“As far as first timers go, it was pretty fucking good.”

Eddie smiles slightly, bashful as his cheeks blush a deep red.

You pull at his ears adoringly, rubbing the red tips between your fingers. “You really are cute when you blush, you should know that.”

“It’s the only thing I have going for me, unfortunately.” Eddie jokes, but you know that’s not true.”

“I don’t know,” You tell him, “You’d be surprised.”

Eddie doesn’t question you when you fall asleep in his bed after, hair still wet from your shower. The eye contact he makes with his brother is tense, smug in the way he knows just by looking at Eddie.

“Not a fucking word.” He bites at him, moving slightly as you turn in his arms, oblivious to the conversation happening above you.

“You owe me a box.” He remarks, knowing Eddie had used up the last condom he had, “And a fucking joint.”

“Fuck off.” Eddie says humorously. As much as the two were constantly at odds, Eddie knew that there wasn’t any real hate toward each other—but it didn’t satiate the fact that his brother still wanted you just as badly, and seeing you cuddled up next to Eddie, it was the kind of heartbreak he’s never felt before—and he buries it deep, deep down.

“And Rick needs you now?” You ask Eddie, tossing your bag on his bed. “It can’t wait?”

“I have to pay him his part,” Eddie explains, “it won’t take long.”

“You say that,” You bicker, Eddie’s eyes softening with the words—it was true, he couldn’t remember a time that it was ever just a ‘quick trip’ to Rick’s, “we need to plan the campaign, Eddie.”

“We will.” He stresses, fetching for the keys stuffed in his pocket. “Just—chill for a bit, eat something—I swear I’ll try to be quick, okay?”

It was an empty promise, but you shrug in response, waving him off—it wasn’t like you had planned this out weeks before, an elaborate campaign that both of you had been excited about, all of it drained from you the moment he leaves, shoving the bag off of the bed as you fall down with a groan, letting out your frustrations into the pillow as it grows in volume.

“Who pissed you off, princess?” It’s the same voice with a different edge, cockiness seeping through.

“Go away,” You moan, turning your face toward the wall, “you’re the last voice I want to hear right now.”

“Damn—Eddie really wound you up, didn’t he?” He asks, taking a seat on Eddie’s bed despite your obvious disdain.

“I’m begging you,” You plead, “fuck off.”

He laughs above you, taking the loose pillow lying on the ground and tossing it at your head gently, “Lighten up, sweetheart—you’re so much prettier when you’re not being mean to me.”

You snap back, turning onto your ass to glare at him.

“Mean?” You draw the word out, face growing hot out of anger.

He held himself much differently than Eddie, but the same in so many ways. His eyes were still just as soft, but the crinkle around the edges when he grinned held a darkness that even you couldn’t miss. In most aspects, he’d always acted as the bigger brother despite him and Eddie only being born a few minutes apart. He was always the first to shield Eddie from their father’s fists, his vile words, comforting Eddie as he cried into his arms—he’s always been more stoic, more detached, and you can see it in the way he looks at people; but not with you.

You know it’s all a front, the anger and snide comments he makes toward you—but it doesn’t snuff the frustration you feel for him.

“You mean I’m pretty when I’m not being a bitch, right?” You argue, “If you’re gonna use your big boy words you should probably stick to them.”

He makes a noise, a little dismissive as he finally relents and leaves without a word, disappearing into the bathroom—and when the shower faucet turns on you feel a breath of relief, having finally shut him up for once.

The wait drags on—and you really shouldn’t have held out hope, taking a seat on the counter as you dug through the half-eaten back of chips, stomach growling in protest as it hoped for something more filling.

“We’re low,” His voice startles you, appearing out of nowhere as he leans against the counter, towel wrapped snugly around his waist, “Wayne gets paid tomorrow, but we don’t have anything to eat.”

“Why are you still talking to me?” You ask desperately, crumbling the bag in your hand and tossing it to the side.

“You used to like me, you know?”

Keywords being used to.

Your eyes bore into him, attempting to ignore the pale slate of skin he dawned, the lack of tattoos only slightly jarring. He was slightly tanner than Eddie, a little leaner, but still held the same structure for the most part. He seems to notice your lingering gaze, pressing up with his palms on the counter to stand at full height.

“What is it about him?” He asks curiously, “My brother.”

“What about him?” You ask flippantly, pushing off the counter until your feet land on the floor with a hard thunk.

“You like him, right?” He questions, beating around the bush.

“To a degree.”

“Enough to have sex with him?” He asks with a low laugh.

“That’s none of your business.” You answer quickly.

He smiles with an edge, evil and full of intent.

“You devirginize my brother out of pity—or what?”

He rounds the counter slowly, menacingly, invading your space—you’ve never felt threatened by him, so the urge to flee never comes, gaze peering up at him in annoyance.

“Do you like him?” He asks, tone digging into your nerves and driving you crazy. “Don’t tell me you’ve fallen in love with him?”

“No,” You respond with a sturdiness, “I’m not falling in love with your brother, not that it’s any of your business, Munson.”

“Ouch,” He laughs deeply, hand resting against the counter as he leans forward, just as hair's breadth away from your ear, “but—you did tell him about your first kiss, right?”

It was a deep repressed memory that you had forced yourself to forget about, face heating up at the thought.

“Only seems fair since you took so many of his.”

“Shut the fuck up.” You warn, eyes darkening.

He leans back slightly, head tilted into your view as his tongue drags along his top row of teeth, “Or what? Your empty threats don’t scare me, princess.”

Your hand raises to shove into his chest, but it never makes it, being shot back down by his own as he reaches for your face, pinching it firmly between his fingers. He can admit he might’ve gone too far, his gaze hot and heavy as he stares down at you—you can’t even be bothered to move, hating the way your body is betraying every moral you had left, proving how easy it was to fall back into old habits.

“Tell me to let go,” He says, almost like a plea, “tell me you want me to let go.”

It feels wrong, like you’re going behind Eddie’s back—but you’re well aware that these are your own choices, you don't need to justify them for anyone.

“If I don’t?” You question, menacing as the answer never comes.

“You try to act like you’re so much better,” He spits, head shaking in dismay, “but you’re just like me.”

He tilts your head up slightly, your hands wrapping around his forearms as he pulls. It stings, the stretch, reaching up on your toes to meet him halfway, his face so close you can taste the mint and aftershave wafting off him, his facial hair only slightly more cleaned up than usual. The loose, wet curls fell over his face—a dark, dirty brown before they dried into their usual dark blonde.

You’ve helped Eddie box dye his hair every few months for the past several years, it’s the only secret he’ll take to the grave. He’s tried so hard to differentiate himself from his brother and it’s the only part of him that felt real, no matter how fake it actually was.

“You’ll fuck my brother, but you won’t fuck me—“ He pauses, trying to decipher the look on your face, seeing if it falters, but you’re as stoned-faced as possible, teeth gritting in annoyance, “seems a little unfair, doesn’t it?”

“You tell me,” You snark at him, venom in your tone, “since you want to fuck me so bad, right?”

“That’s a little much.” He retorts, “Don’t pride yourself too hard.”

You pull a face of deep want, mocking his voice despite how much softer you sound, it gets the message across either way.

“Let’s be each other’s first, okay?” You tell him, with the same intensity as he spoke to you those few years ago, curled up on his bed while Eddie was away with Wayne for the day, “I want you so bad.”

“Shut up.” He warns, jaw clenched. You smile devilishly, laughing through your teeth.

“You don’t fool me.” You tell him, his face falling in response, “You really want to fuck me?”

He doesn’t answer, eyes squinting slightly at your question. It seems like a trick, it has to be.

You weren’t even sure why you were asking, but the silence he returns is dreadful.

“Say it.” You demand, attempting to shrink him down to the wallowing, shy man he used to be.

He grins darkly, releasing his hold on your face until both of his palms press against your cheek, holding you still in his hands as his fingers drag over the jut of your lips, the deep furrow in your brow—and for a moment, the hate dissipates and you see it. Him, underneath the act.

“Right here,” He instructs, stilling you where you stood, “I know that pretty little mind is so worried about my brother walking in on us—would ruin everything, wouldn’t it?”

He’s already got a hand against the button of your jeans, popping it open skillfully, “I do want to fuck you—but I’m not gonna be nice about, sweetheart.”

“I never asked you to.” You challenge, letting him shove you against the edge of the counter, the sharpness digging into your back as he forced your pants down, mouthing hot, wet open mouthed kisses against your thighs until the clothing disappeared behind him, towel sagging around his waist as it loosened. You kicked it away with your foot, earning a chuckle from below.

And he’s not shy, rubbing his fingers over your clothed pussy, forcing yourself to swallow the shaky breath in your throat as he peers up at you, mouth quirked up in amusement.

“Don’t think this is for my brother,” He rubs a finger over the soft patch of wetness, “is it?”

“Why do you care?” You ask harshly, letting him guide your thighs apart slightly, raising his mouth to meet his fingers, tongue flattening over the fabric. It makes you gasp, the boldness and lack of shame he had for wanting to taste you.

He moans lowly, but it’s amplified through the silence that grows around you, his teeth dragging up gently until the fabric snags and he pulls the waistband away, letting it snap back painfully.

“Just so we’re clear,” He clarifies, “so you can’t act like you don’t want this.”

“I’m great at faking it.” You insult him, but it doesn’t deter him in any sense, his hands yanking at the thin piece of fabric covering your cunt, throwing them to the side.

“Uh huh,” He nods, eyes locked on yours as he repeats his earlier actions, tongue flattened out over your folds and licking up soundly, groaning at the sweetness, “look at me.”

You do, anger be damned. His touch is surprisingly gentle as he hoists your knee over his shoulder, using the leverage to spread you wide, softness quickly fading as he squeezes harshly at your thigh, tongue circling over your clit with a forceful determination, the heat of his eyes still stuck to you, cemented into your mind. And you hate how easy it is to look back, mouth falling open wide as he makes it a mission to worship you in every way possible.

“Probably had to teach him how to eat pussy, right?” He laughs, pulling away for a brief moment to speak, mouth a shining mess as he licks at the remnants of slick on his lips, “You pity him, don’t you?”

“No—no,” His mouth latches back on with a ferocity you can’t handle, fingers digging into his hair for support, pulling until he’s groaning in pain, the moans leaving your mouth are loud and unashamed, cursing at him through clenched teeth, “I don’t pity him—don’t even pity you. I just—“

He rises then, much to your disappointment, “Just what?” He breathes against you, shirt rising as he lips dragged against your stomach until he was face to face with you, eyes wide and waiting for your response.

“Hate you.” You spit out.

“Likewise, princess.” He grins, “Doesn’t change the fact that I know you want to feel what my cock is like—acting like you haven’t been trying to sneak glances, like you haven’t pictured it.”

“Don’t pride yourself too much.” You say, lying through your teeth.

He laughs meanly, reaching for your hand and bringing it to the hard ridge of his dick, tip poking up toward his belly button.

He’s longer, a little thicker, and a lot more intimidating than Eddie—and he knows it. He smirks, dragging the softness of your open palm over his dick and wrapping your delicate fingers around him, “You’re fucking sick.” He insults and you squeeze harshly, forcing a strangled grunt from his chest.

You smile sweetly, the first break in your facade as you find some enjoyment out of watching him in pain, even if it’s brief.

“That’s too bad,” You chide, “I would’ve sucked your cock if you weren’t being so mean.”

“Save it, you might change your mind later,” He laughs harshly, hands squeezing at your hips, “turn around.”

His movements are quick, planned, adjusting you until your entrance is settled over the head of his dick, fistful of hand in his hair, arms held out in front of you to ease the uncomfortable dig of the counter.

“Condom, hello—are you fucking insane?”

He laughs softly, pulling your head back until his lips graze your ear, “I’ll pull out, don’t worry.”

And despite your better interest, you nod, gasping at how easily he slips inside of you.

“You know, he talks about you all the time.” He confesses—and you want to die, wishing he'd choose any other route of conversation, but it’s pointless. “He’s been obsessed with you since we were kids.”

You moan embarrassingly depraved, his hips snapping harshly as he guided your hips back against him just as forcefully.

“I always told him I’d fuck you first—I was wrong.” He adds, jealousy oozing from his tone. “Can’t have everything, I guess.”

“Do you ever—ever shut up?” You ask weakly, voice raw and struggling with every sound that’s punched out of you.

“Oh, don’t act so fucking innocent,” He retorts, “Like you haven’t fucked most of my friends—they talk, sweetheart.”

Eddie pulls harshly, neck bending back uncomfortably as he peers over your shoulder, barely in view as you force yourself to look at him.

“Pretty tits, perfect little pussy—the only reason I let you get away with insulting me so much is because we’re the same, babe.” He tells you, “I could tell you more but—where’s the fun in that?”

“At least—I’m not pretending to be something I’m not.” You bite back, whining as he hits a spot deep inside of you, thrust relentless as his fingers find their way to your clit, rubbing harshly at the bundle of nerves. It’s enough to make you double over, falling slack against the counter.

“This is for you, sweetheart.” He admits, “Thought you might like it if I—if I dressed like my brother more.”

You can hear it in his voice that he’s struggling to keep himself together.

“Imagine how heartbroken I was when you wanted me out of the club,” He confesses, “not that I give a shit about that stupid game.”

“So you’re desperate?” You ask with an ire of judgment.

“You were fucking my brother two days ago and now my dick is inside you, I wouldn’t talk shit.”

Your retort is pointless, the words failing you as he builds up the rhythm of his hips until you can’t do anything but let your body fall privy to it, the pressure building in the pit of your stomach as he circles your clit swiftly, touching you in all the ways you’ve always wanted, too afraid to ask.

“Fucking take it,” He mumbles to himself, “calling me a whore? Look at you.”

It’s met with your helpless whimpers, the position giving you little choice to snark back, his breaths quickening with each desperate snap of his hips.

“Probably thinking about both of us fucking you together, aren’t you?” He teases, groaning as you clamped around him. “That’s fucking dirty, sweetheart—but it’ll be our little secret, alright?”

You shake your head in annoyance, despite how close you were to falling over the edge, eyes squeezed shut.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell my brother about this,” He assures you, “or next time—or however many times it takes for you to realize you really don’t hate me as much as you think you do.”

“Fuck—shut up,” You growl, “just shut up and make me come.”

And he does, easily, like he’d been holding back until you said the words, moaning brokenly as he keeps his fingers in a constant motion even after you come back down, body shaking from the overstimulation until he’s pulling out abruptly.

“Fuck, turn around—“ He rushes out, “on your knees, open your mouth.”

You don’t even argue, dropping down without a fight. His face scrunches up similar to Eddie’s, looking just as endearingly soft when he comes, eyes never leaving you for a second as he spills over your tongue with a harsh gasp. His free hand reaches up to close your mouth, watching as you swallow him down obscenely—if it were anyone else, anyone, you would’ve spit it out in defiance. But with him, you couldn’t help it.

“Jesus, fuck—“ He groans, “You always this obedient?”

You shrug nonchalantly, poking your tongue out in a show that there was nothing left. “No.” You reply with a playful smirk, rising up to meet him.

“I don’t believe you.” He challenges, a careful step into your personal space. “Look at me.”

You do, feeling his scrutinizing gaze rack your entire body—he’s testing you, trying to find a way to break you down.

“Open your mouth,” He instructs softly, thumb pulling at your bottom lip until he’s got you where he likes, spitting into your mouth without warning—the moan you let slip is, well, embarrassing, “I fucking knew it—swallow it.”

Another simple request, following through on his demand.

“Good girl,” He comments hotly, leaning forward to press a messy kiss against your lips, lips parting immediately as his tongue sneaks inside, dragging against your own, “fuck—my brother would have no idea what to do with you.”

But the loud roar of an engine approaching is enough to make you both paralyzed with fear—because while he may be an asshole, he couldn’t openly break Eddie’s heart that easily.

“Not a fucking word,” You say, swearing him to secrecy, “Go.”

Your heart is in your throat for the entire thirty seconds it takes for you to reorganize your thoughts and redress yourself, quickly fleeing to the room to be met face to face with Eddie’s brother, already dressed and relaxed on his bed.

It was almost as if none of it ever happened.

You can hear Eddie calling your name from the front door, wondering if you had finally given up and gone home.

His brother smirks to himself, flipping through whatever ridiculous raunchy mag he had fetched out of his bedside table, acting as if he wasn’t buried inside you only a few minutes prior. But, that’s exactly what you wanted.

When Eddie finally bursts through the door, he’s already geared with a look of apology, hair a lot more messy than usual and windswept, checks flushed a bright red. He chances a glance at his twin brother, grimacing at the material in his hands.

“Seriously?” He asks, motioning toward you.

“What?” He asks, holding the mag up, “She doesn’t mind.”

They both glance over at you and it makes you want to melt into the earth and be literally anywhere but here, matching expectant expressions as they wait for your answer.

You shrug, “I don’t care.”

“Come on bro, stop being such a prude.” He teases, “You let her take your virginity and you turn into some puritan.”

You clear your throat loudly, eyes shifting pointedly toward Eddie’s brother, “Sorry, too soon?” He apologizes halfheartedly.

Considering the taste of his cum was still lingering heavy in your mouth, it was much too fucking soon.

“A little bit.” You respond crudely, eyes squinting narrowly at him before flicking up toward Eddie. “We still need to plan that campaign out, don’t think I forgot.”

“And there’s my cue.” His brother complains, bed springs squeaking in protest as he flees, but not before he catches your gaze on the way out.

If you only knew the trouble you were about to fall into.

Please consider a reblog if you enjoyed this fic! It’s makes a huge difference. ♡

Special thanks to @jadequeen88 and @usedtobecooler for sending me down this horny ass rabbit hole of a concept.

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #my writing

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alltoowelltom · 1 year

Text

a missed chance

tom holland x single mom!reader

from this request here

note: this is a repost! i've been having so many issues with tumblr and posts not showing up so i decided it was best to just re-upload <3

⭑･ﾟﾟ･:༅｡.｡༅:ﾟ:*:✼✿

Almost three years ago Tom came to the conclusion that he'd missed his chance. The photo of two pink lines on a stick you'd sent to the group chat with no caption was an image that Tom saw whenever he closed his eyes. It haunted him in the middle of the night and clouded his mind when he sat in traffic. It summed up the situation, as he saw it - he'd waited too long and the opportunity for your will-they-won't-they friendship to ever grow into something more had slipped out of his grasp.

He settled into his role as Uncle Tom wonderfully. As the eldest of four he'd always been great with kids and he loved your young son as if he were Tom's own, but the tension in your friendship never quite fizzled out.

⭑･ﾟﾟ･:༅｡.｡༅:ﾟ:*:✼✿

Your phone rang as you sat on a park bench, watching Alfie play in the sandbox just a few meters away.

"Hello?"

"Love, you've got to start checking the caller ID before you answer." Tom chastised lightly on the other end of the line.

"Tom!" you squeal, drumming your feet on the concrete ground. "Does this mean you've landed?!"

"I'm touching solid ground," he confirms. "Back in the land of hope and glory."

"Good," you grin. "I've missed you."

"Yeah?" you don't miss the hope in Tom's voice and if you could see him, you'd notice the crinkles by his eyes that only appeared when he received really good news.

"Does that mean I can come over this evening?" he wonders aloud.

"I wouldn't complain," you shrug. "It's your first night back though, you don't want to see your family or anything?"

"How many times do we have to have this conversation?" Tom shakes his head. "You and Alfie are family."

As if being summoned, Alfie begins to whine from the sandbox, seemingly done with the plastic shovel in his hand as he holds his arms in the air, wanting to be picking up by you.

"Alright, I've got to go but I'll see you tonight," you say. "Talk soon."

⭑･ﾟﾟ･:༅｡.｡༅:ﾟ:*:✼✿

"How's my little man?" Tom asks, scooping Alfie up as he runs towards where Tom stands by the front door. He swings Alfie through the air, spinning around before bringing the giggling toddler to rest on his hip.

"He's grown!" Tom remarks. "You're almost too big for me to do that." He tells Alfie, poking him playfully in the tummy.

Tom feels stupid for not realizing how much bigger Alfie's gotten in the last four months since Tom's been away filming. Your FaceTime calls usually took place while Tom was in hair and makeup, right before you went to bed back in London and by that time Alfie was more often than not fast asleep already, so Tom hadn't seen much of the little guy. He wanted to kick himself for once again kidding himself into believing that you and Alfie existed in some sort of time-warp, lives permanently still until Tom came home to London. Of course you guys had your own little life together. You didn't need him, right?

"Yeah, he's getting older by the day," you laugh, wiping your flour-covered hands on your jeans as you step into the hallway. Tom wraps you into a side hug with his free arm, making sure not to squash Alfie between you two, who's fiddling with a loose thread on Tom's sweater.

"Alfie's just had dinner, do you want any?" you call over your shoulder as Tom follows you into the kitchen.

"Hmm, what's on the menu, chef?" He chuckles, placing Alfie down on the carpet and ruffling the boy's hair.

"It's the extremely gourmet and elegant meal of boxed Mac and cheese." You answer.

"Ooh, yes please!" Tom calls as he wanders into the living room.

He's always felt so comforted in your flat. It’s always felt a mile away from the stresses and worries of Tom's life as an actor, and more importantly it's always felt like you. Despite the baby bouncer hanging in the doorway, the discarded toy stuffed behind the TV and a few picture books strewn across the sofa it retains the features that made it yours like the vinyls on display above the record player Tom bought for your birthday one year and the mini chalkboard with a half rubbed out score from a game of beer pong from before everything changed. There was now a hastily scribbled reminder to 'buy teething rings' over the top.

"Sorry about the mess," you say, gently kicking a few brightly colored building blocks out the way. Tom helps by stacking the picture books from the couch into a little pile on the coffee table. "I was going to have a tidy up when Alfie and I came home from the park, but you know how it is."

He doesn't know how it is, not really. As close as you are, he's always slightly on the outside when it comes to you and Alfie, reduced to an uncle just the same as Uncle Haz or Uncle Tuwaine. But he wants to be more than that. He wants to be your partner in this, someone to lend a hand when the house gets messy or a shoulder to cry on when things get tough. For being a web-slinging superhero during the day, he wishes he was brave enough to tell you how he felt.

"Don't even worry about it." He says instead, smiling in thanks when you pass him a serving of mac and cheese in a colorful plastic bowl and a plastic spoon.

"I ran out of real cutlery." You laugh as he looks at it quizzically, one eyebrow raised. "You know, no one tells you how much living with a toddler changes you," you say. "I haven't used adult cutlery in about a week, and just the other day I found myself eating a sucky yogurt for dinner while watching Cocomelon. Alfie wasn't even in the room."

Tom laughs as he spoons the golden pasta into his mouth.

"It sounds to me like you're desperately in need of some adult interactions." He hears how it sounds as soon as he says it and hopes you don't think he's being creepy.

"Oh God, don't even get me started, " you say. "I haven't gotten any sort of adult interactions in like, a year. No wait…two years and nine months."

"Two years and nine months?!" Tom gasps, glancing at Alfie out of the corner of his eye who sits on the carpet playing with a toy train track Tom had given him last Christmas.

"Welcome to motherhood." You grimace.

Tom puts his empty bowl on the coffee table, trying to figure out how to word his next question.

"Do you ever get…lonely?" He asks delicately. "I don't mean physically, I mean actually."

You shrug, pulling a blanket over your lap.

"I mean, yeah. It's just that between work and Alfie, I don't have time to go out and meet people, you know?"

Tom nods thoughtfully, letting you continue as he gently tugs the edge of your blanket, pulling it over his legs too.

"And if I do meet someone, it's hard because sometimes if I tell them about Alfie it's a deal breaker, or if they're okay with it I'm still not comfortable bringing people in and out of his life. If someone's in his life I want them to be in for good, right?"

"Yeah, I get what you mean," Tom sympathizes, placing a hand on your leg.

"I wouldn't change having him for the world," you say quickly. "I just sometimes wish I had someone to talk to who doesn't speak only in Bob the Builder references."

"I'm always here to talk to, lovie." Tom reassures you. "Can we fix this? Yes we can!" He giggles and you laugh too, pushing his shoulder with yours.

"I'm really glad you're home, Tommy." you say quietly, putting your hand over his where it still rests gently on your leg and rubbing small circles into his skin.

"It's good to be back." He agrees. His eyes meet yours and you both lean in ever so slightly. He picks his hand up off your leg and slowly brings it up, only to be interrupted by a shriek from Alfie as one of his trains crashes off the track. You both jump away, Tom's hand hovering in mid-air as the only proof of the moment that might have happened, frozen on its collision course to your cheek.

You avert eye contact, standing up and reaching for Alfie.

"I'm sorry-" Tom starts but you shake your head, eyes shining.

"No don't worry, it's okay." You say. "Uhm, do you want to help with bathtime?"

⭑･ﾟﾟ･:༅｡.｡༅:ﾟ:*:✼✿

"Hello?" Tom calls down the hallway, kicking the front door shut behind him. There's no answer but he hears chatter and laughter from in the distance. He deposits the cake on the kitchen counter, breathing a sigh of relief upon discovering he'd gotten it from the bakery to your house in one piece.

He steps out of the French doors, immediately grinning as he takes in the scene before him. In the back garden Alfie's second birthday party is in full swing. A handful of toddlers play on the mini slide set you'd set up, their parents hovering nearby and chatting. He assumes these must be some of Alfie's friends from daycare. He spots Alfie almost immediately, running (or waddling) around with the top half of his face painted to look like a Spider-Man mask, clearly having the time of his life.

"Tom!" you spot him standing on the deck, excusing yourself from a conversation with a few parents and heading over to him.

"I'm so glad you made it," you say, giving him a quick hug. He lingers for a second, basking in the feeling of being able to hold you close. He lets you go with only a slightly wistful smile.

"Did you get the cake?" you ask hopefully.

"Of course," he says, rolling his eyes but taking you by the arm and leading you into the shade of the kitchen. "It's in here."

He opens the cake box, grinning as you gasp happily.

"It's perfect! Thank you so much for picking it up." you say, giving him a quick one sided hug and he gulps.

"You look pretty." he murmurs before he can stop himself, taking in the glittery dress you'd chosen for the occasion.

"What was that?" you blink, turning your head away from where you were putting two blue candles in the frosting and making eye contact with Tom.

"Uh, I said I love this city." Tom tries to save it, suddenly losing confidence as usual. "Glad to be back, y'know?"

"Okay?" you nod. "'s good to hear."

･*:༅｡

Tom hangs back as Alfie blows out his candles with a little help from you, allowing himself to hide in the small crowd of toddlers and parents. He'd been so confident driving up to your house with Alfie's cake safely in the passenger seat, even going as far as blasting Enchanted by Taylor Swift with the windows down to prove to himself that today was the day. He had to admit how he felt for so many years or it would truly eat him alive. But now here he was, leaning against the wall at a two-year-old's birthday party and feeling like the biggest wimp in the known universe. He silently excused himself to the bathroom, locking the door and knocking his head on the mirror. Come on, Tom!

"Hey," Tom said, tapping you on the shoulder.

･*:༅｡

"Oh shit," you say, whipping around and dropping the pile of paper plates you'd been collecting up. "You scared me, Tom! I thought everyone had left already."

"Sorry," Tom laughed gently. "No I was just in the bathroom. Want some help cleaning up?"

"You were in the bathroom for an hour?" you ask worriedly. "Jesus, is everything okay?"

"Oh, everything's brilliant." He smiles at you. "I was just thinking."

"I didn't know you knew how to do that." you grin at him. He breathes out, glad some of your familiar banter had returned.

"I have to tell you something." he says before he can think too much about it.

You nod, smiling gently for him to continue as you clean up.

"Can you…can you stop doing that for a minute?" he asks shyly, taking the stack of paper plates from you and putting them down. "This'll only take a minute and then I'll be gone, promise."

He hesitates before taking both your hands in his. You lean into his touch, trying to ignore the electricity that radiates from where your hands meet.

"Do you remember that night at the pub a few years ago?" he asks slowly. "It was the night they were doing the trivia night on pop culture and you won our team all those points for knowing the One Direction questions."

"Yeah," you laugh. "Once again the 1D obsession saved all of our asses."

"And then later that night," Tom continues, his voice wavering. "You uh- you found out about Alfie and you sent that picture of the test to the group chat."

You nod, remembering that night all too well.

"I was outside your house that night." he blurts out. Well, I've done it now, he thinks.

"What the fuck, Tom." you laugh. "You got all serious just to tell me you were stalking me almost three years ago?"

Tom groans.

"Will you let me finish, love?" he asks. "You left before any of us. And the boys all hyped me up, and then I left too. I came to your house because I had to tell you how I felt. And then before I could even knock, you sent that photo to the groupchat. And then how could I possibly add more to the situation and tell you that I've been in love with you since we met?"

Your eyes widen after his confession and you slowly take your hand out of his. Tom swears he's never heard a silence quite this loud before, and he takes it as a bad sign.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he babbles. "I just had to tell you because I couldn't keep lying to you and pretending that everything I see or think about doesn't remind me of you."

"No, Tom." you stop him, gently placing one finger over his lips to shush him. "It's just that I don't really know how to respond to that. I mean, you want me? You actually want me?"

"Darling, you could punch me in the eye and I'd still want you." Tom tries to ease the situation and you giggle. You wrap your arms around him gently, breathing in his scent.

"Is this okay?" you ask hesitantly.

"It's more than okay." Tom confirms, copying your actions. He nuzzles his head into your hair, inhaling the sweet smell of your conditioner that he's only ever been able to admire from afar before now.

You nudge him ever so slightly away from you and tip your head up a tiny amount so you're looking at him. He's been so brave, being the first one to make a move so you feel it's only fair that it's your turn to break the ice. Chest flush against his you close the gap between your mouths, meeting his lips in a soft kiss.

Tom all but melts into the kiss, holding you firmly. There's no way he was letting the chance slip away again, now that he was right where he wanted to be.

⭑･ﾟﾟ･:༅｡.｡༅:ﾟ:*:✼✿

tysm for reading! reblogs are always appreciated and really help a writer out <3

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x single mom!reader #dad!tom #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst

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lovejosephquinn · 1 year

Text

1.6k words of a fwb one shot. A hint of fluff and ever so slightly chaotic but above all smutty ✨

You'd sat up in a panic from an interruptive banging at your door. What time was it? You tap on your phone to see 3:27am. Absolutely not. You slip out of bed as the slamming of what sounds to be a fist bashing against the door frame, you can hear the brief noise of a familiar voice from the other side as you clamber down the stairs.

"Y/N, answer the fucking door noooooooow." Joe. One of your closest friends and known booty call whenever he felt like showing up for it.

You roll your eyes, shaking your head before you get to the door, the knocking commences. You say nothing but knock back through the other side, instant silence.

"Y/N? My darling? My everything?"

"Joseph." You speak out and you just hear this childish giggle leak out of his mouth.

"Let me in pretty please with a cherry on top, it's raining, it's cold, it's way past my bedtime."

Putting on the light, you grab your keys from the bowl situated on the table next to the front door, unlocking it and you move the door handle in unison. Joe stumbles through, tripping over his own two feet.

"If it's past your bedtime why aren't you going to your own bed Quinn?" You catch his arm to keep him steady, a slow yawn effecting your own balance from your only half conscious state.

"I like your bed better." Joe balanced himself against the wall, chuckling to his own response.

"You're obviously drunk, do you need some water? Something to eat?" You offered generously, you'd of kicked off if it were anyone else waking you up at this time, but Joe had some sort of free pass in which you enjoyed his company in any single form, at any time.

"I'm hungry, but not for food." Joe licked his lips, checking you out from the top of your head and down to your feet. You folded your arms, leaning against the wall next to him, a small smirk and a tilt of your head gave away that you knew exactly what he was insinuating.

Before you knew it, Joe had caged you between himself and the wall, his eyes looking shiny and starving, only one thing on his brain. Your core instantly ached for him, you knew he could give you what nobody else could, an astounding orgasm and then a good cuddle after it, where after that you'd go back to being your silly old selves, like nothing ever happened, you enjoyed it that way you understood each other's needs whilst maintaining the friendship you'd always had; it was perfect.

"Come on then, I'm waiting." You tapped your foot against the ground, catching him off guard, he brought his head down to look at the beat being created against your heel. You moved forward to clutch at the back of his curls, bringing his face back up to meet yours. The wicked smile that took over him, his hands found yours and slammed them back against the wall, holding you into place where you couldn't perpetuate control. His mouth was on yours in a flash, kissing you in the most desperate and sloppiest of ways, pushing himself up against you as you felt the already growing erection grind on your stomach.

His tongue pushed against your lips and you granted immediate access, he tasted like alcohol and cigarettes and your senses were addicted to the very scent of it all, his little moans in between the teeth clashing kisses, your mouths opening wider, heads tilting to the side so you could get as close as humanly possible.

Your hands were intertwined as you let a little squeeze, he let go and pulled down your pyjama shorts, falling to his knees and readying himself eagerly, licking his lips. Joe gripped at your leg, putting one over his shoulder so it spread you a little, his hands did the rest; extending your slit so all of your cunt was revealed to him. Licking a stripe from the bottom to the top, the tip of his tongue instantly finding your clit which sent bolts of electricity through your body, your hands promptly leaning a top of his head, ragging his hair toward you to silently communicate that you wanted more.

"Needy bitch." Joe muttered into you, making you bite down on your bottom lip. His mouth latching onto your sweet spot, sucking up your juices and humming along to the slick that coated his teeth. His tongue didn't stop flickering over your tingling bud, your head thrown back in utter bliss when you felt two fingers disappear up inside of you.

"Fuck me."

Joe let go a second, looking up to you with darkened eyes. "All in good time, I'm a little busy right now."

He moved his fingers in and out at an erratic pace, he knew you liked it rough, you loved the way he moved through you, hitting every spongy spot and making sure he wasted no part of his digits that fucked at your hole so intimately. His mouth went back to work, you lifted yourself, propping yourself against the wall, your other leg now joining his opposite shoulder, you wrapped them around his neck, wedged between the brick wall and Joe's face was a most comfortable and pleasurable place to be in. Another finger pushed it's way in, three of his fat fingers stretching out your tight little hole, preparing you for the end game.

You looked down to witness Joe take an almighty last slurp of your clit before staring back at you, his doe eyes gleaming your way.

"Look at you, all ready for this cock aren't you? You're so desperate to be fucked aren't you? My little slut."

You screeched, your body squirming, Joe adjusting himself so you could put all of your wight down onto him, your thighs were trembling so hard you couldn't contain them. He aimed his other hand at you, placing his thumb into his mouth before pressing it against your clit, rubbing sharply, fingers messily attacking you.

"Cum." You did, you cried out his name with brute force, it was all you could manage before your orgasm plummeted through the entirety of your body, your toes curling and your eyes rolling back into your head.

"Good fucking girl." Joe released his fingers from you, admiring the slick that coated him. Setting your feet back to the ground and being the one to keep you steady this time, Joe shoved his fingers into your mouth, watching you taste yourself with such admiration.

"What an obedient little slut you are for me." Joe smiled cheekily. "Aren't you?"

"Yes sir." That took him by surprise and you'd absolutely intended it to.

He pulled away from you, undressing himself and leaving a pile of clothes situated on your hallway floor, still losing his own balance slightly from the influx of alcohol which had rid him of his own self control.

"Bend over."

"You can't wait to get up-"

"Did I speak a different language? Bend over slut." Joe growled.

You managed a giggle before Joe handled you before you could move yourself. His hand pushed down against your back and your own hands steadied yourself up against the same part of the wall where your back was just pressed up.

"Perfect." Joe slapped his cock against your ass cheeks, spitting down onto his hand and lathering himself with his own saliva, lined himself up and pushed in the tip, inch by inch moving through you, your cunt clenching around him, caging it where it belonged. Joe's head was thrown back in ecstasy from his foreskin being pulled back from the friction.

"Oh fuck." He clenched his teeth, his fingers moulding into the skin of your waist from how hard he gripped. You moved yourself back to give him a sign that you wanted him to start moving, a sharp slap implanted onto your ass cheek before you could go back and fourth one more time.

"Alright greedy." Joe slammed into you with such stamina, his cock working rapidly to rail you close to your next orgasm. He was already leaking inside of you, the echoes of your unified moans in sync together so beautifully.

"Harder." You demanded, not that you couldn't already feel the severity of the way he fucked into you, you just wanted more. All you could possibly get from him in that single moment.

"What was that?" He'd heard you loud and clear, but the repetition was just so sexy to him.

"Harder!" You cried out and came all in the same breath.

"That's it, take this cock like only you know how."

It didn't take Joe long to falter to the edge, one last impenetrable thrust brought him to his own release. He halted into position, lips parted as a pornographic groan exhaled from vocal chords and straight out of his mouth like a prayer.

A more playful spank confirmed his satisfaction, making the both of you laugh, Joe pulled out, shaking himself off of the high he was still experiencing.

You turned to face him, high spirited grins at one another, your own perfectly imperfect friendship commenced.

"Are you joining me for a good old fashioned sleep sesh?" You picked up his clothes off the floor and pushed them to his chest.

"I believe I am, you in need of a big spoon?" You nodded to his offer, not that he'd be ever one to turn you down. He brushed past you in an excited way racing up the stairs, his naked ass jiggling along with every step he took.

"Hurry up then." Before you even got to the bottom step, he'd disappeared into your bedroom, you knew he'd be under the covers probably passed out before you'd even locked the door, turned the light off and got yourself upstairs. Typical.

#joseph quinn fluff #joseph quinn smut #joseph quinn imagine #joseph quinn x reader

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littlemisslipbalm · 7 months

Text

Friday, I’m in Love

Josh Kiszka x f!reader

(mostly gn/afab I think but there might be something in there that leans fem so I don’t want to say gn! And be inaccurate)

Summary: As summer wanes, things become clear between you two. Your friendship is forever and Josh wants to show you that.

A weekend with your best friend Josh filled with a concert, a dinner party, lots of wine and loving tender moments.

Word Count: 8.3k | Warnings: profanity, sweet tender tension, friends to lovers, drinking

Enjoy!

“Hello, Joshua darling,” You cooed, wrapping your arms around Josh’s shoulders.

He wrapped his arms snuggly around your waist and squeezed as he pushed his head into the crook of your neck, breathing in his best friend’s familiar perfume. You rarely changed it or you always made sure to wear the same one when you knew you’d be seeing Josh. He didn’t know which one.

“Friday,” His voice is soft and your nickname reverberates through your skin. “Thanks for coming, I didn’t want to go alone and my brothers all bailed.”

You smile at him, before flicking a piece of his hair out of place.

“I couldn’t leave you to go to Fleet Foxes without me. That’s like sending the kid into the candy shop with no one around to witness his joy.”

Josh rolled his eyes and petted the hair back into place. “You flew out from California just for a concert…” He took a hold of your suitcase handle standing at attention beside you.

“As if you wouldn’t do the exact same thing!”

Josh smiles down at his feet, feeling bashful around his friend for some reason. “You’re right. Can you be ready to head out in 30? We gotta walk, but it’s not far.”

You agreed and beelined for the guest bedroom in Josh’s house. Josh followed behind you with your bags as if he was the guest in his own home.

–

“How do I look?” You twirled into Josh’s open bathroom door where he was fussing with his hair like always.

Josh paused, his hands near the crown of his head as he looked at you through the mirror, a smile spreading across his pink lips. His toothy smile said it all, but he spun around and took you by the hips anyway. “Fuckin’ divine, Friday. Fuckin’ divine.” He winked once you had laughed and then turned back to focus on his task.

You settled onto the lip of the bathtub behind Josh, watching him work. Your old blue jean skirt was short, showing off your summer legs and blundstones while the tank-style top you wore fell to the top of your hips. The crisp white fabric hung loose in a slight babydoll effect with a low cross cut over cleavage. It was the perfect summer in Tennesse outfit for an outdoor ampitheater Fleet Foxes concert.

Josh was, as expected, in his white t-shirt and khaki shorts with white vans uniform. He had his mustard yellow jacket beside him and a necklace laying on the counter, waiting for him to put it on.

“So…” You start.

Josh hums in response, raising a brow in the mirror as he dabbed some concealer under his eyes.

“What’s new?”

“We text almost every day,” Josh laughs, “What could I possibly tell you, you don’t already know?”

You yawn dramatically. “God, you’re so boring, where's the rock n’ roll diva with all the hot goss I know?!”

Josh rolls his eyes and grabs his jacket, walking out of the bathroom, hitting the light as an act of defiance. “My only hot goss is that my brothers are idiots who do not know how to use a calendar for the life of them.” He suppresses his smile with an unsuccessful frown as you scoff, catching up with him as he walks towards the front door.

“Don’t you guys have assistants who do that shit for you now?” You kicked a pebble as you walked side by side down the road. Josh made sure you were on the inside of the sidewalk like the midwestern gentleman he had been brought up to be.

Josh sunk his hands into his pockets and stared down the street. “Nah. Not for personal stuff. There’s calendars with all our band stuff, but right now it’s just like free time blocks.”

“Well, Danny, Jake and Sam are stupid for missing out, but their loss is my gain, I guess. I’ve been needing a reason to come here and bug you.”

Josh brightens at that and he throws an arm around your shoulders, hugging you close as he ‘aw’s’. You laugh and nuzzle your head into his shoulder, happy he’s happy.

–

At the concert, you and Josh find a spot at the top of the ampitheater seating opposite the center of the stage setup. You both used their jackets as seats and caught your breath from hiking up the steps. You smiled at him as he looked out at the open sky above the stage and you followed his eye. It was a little cloudy, making it all the more interesting. The clouds came together and dispersed at their own will as people filed into the venue. Josh said he’d go get the drinks while you leaned back on your hands and tilted your head to the sky.

You told him to surprise you and you looked at each other blankly with your sunglasses obstructing your eyes until Josh broke, a grin cracking onto his face once more.

“Back in a jiffy!” He snapped finger guns at her before diappearing up the steps.

“Freak!” You called. It was half-hearted at best with how overjoyed you were to be able to spend alone time with him when you saw him so rarely these days. Since you moved to California a couple years ago for a job, you couldn’t go out on the town with Josh every weekend he was home and you couldn’t meet him on the road with your old flexible hours. This job was far more intensive, but also actually what you wanted to be doing with your life so you couldn’t really complain. You were lucky you had some PTO saved that you hadn’t used to make your weekend getaway into a four-day trip.

But work was at the back of your mind now. You got to be with Josh, your best friend. He was the kindest and softest person you’d ever encountered, while also being the funniest and loudest one as well. He had these dualing personality traits that he somehow managed to meld into one fantastic and fascinating human that you always felt so lucky to get to be around. His energy melted into you and brightened you. Josh made you feel happy to be alive. He was special to you and you treasured this time with him more than most things in your life.

You felt something cool on your cheek and opened your eyes with minor surprise before quickly seeing Josh holding a cold cup of rosé against you. You grabbed the cup from him and then pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, just to the left of his lips, so close that you felt a tickle of his mustache. “Thanks, Joshua darling.”

He had folded his sunglasses onto the collar of his shirt, not feeling the implicit need to wear sunglasses when it wasn’t necessary like his twin or you, who both wore sunglasses inside or in the dark when it was completely inappropriate. Like now with the clouds covering the sun almost entirely.

He winked at you and you clinked plastic cups, settling into your seats and beginning to chat aimlessly until the opener came on. You had never heard them before but you were quickly won over. You were nodding and swaying and hollering when the songs would finish. They could absolutely jam and you and Josh would share impressed looks every so often.

“Gonna give you guys a run for your money,” You said into his ear as the guitar solo extended for the better part of 10 minutes.

Josh shrugged with an ambivalent smile. “His vocals don’t compare to mine and you know it.”

“Your modesty becomes you.”

Josh smirked and looked at you out of the corner of his eye as the song wrapped up and he clapped and then stuck his fingers in his mouth to whistle loudly. He looked cocky and you couldn’t help but admire this side of him, he was your best friend but even you couldn’t deny how sexy it was. His chest was puffed out a bit, his biceps bulging as he moved his arms and he kept smiling knowingly.

You smacked his chest lightly after a minute of that same look on his face. “Quit it.”

He offered a pout in return.

In between the openers and Fleet Foxes, you went to the bathroom and grabbed your second round of drinks and a bag of potato chips to share. You bumped the back of Josh’s head with the new cup of the white wine he had been drinking and he turned around quickly, looking up at you and immediately recognizing you even in the dark of the now night sky.

He took the drink as well as yours when you held it out to him so that you could climb over the barrier and get back to your spot. He shuffled himself closer to you because there were more people around and also because he wanted to be close to his friend and your warmth, now that the first 10 ounces of wine were doing their job.

They tapped glasses again and laughed about the story you retold of the server at the wine stand. He had filled your glasses extra high and told you “Have a real good time now.” Easily putting at least an extra two ounces in each of their glasses.

Josh shook his head, resting it on your shoulder for a moment. He spoke with a theatric sigh. “Pretty privilege, Jesus.”

“You’re just mad no one at this local music venue has recognized you, huh?”

“No! I’m overjoyed to be an anonymous concert-goer. An ordinary, run-of-the-mill anyguy audience member.”

You pursed your lip and nodded, unconvinced. “Yeah, right.”

A tap on Josh’s shoulder brought his attention away from his Friday and you grinned at the interruption, feeling an inexplicable glee that comes from a situation immediately proving a friend wrong.

Josh greets the person with all the charm and grace that you knew he possessed in spades. He threw a glance back at you though and you smiled triumphantly at him. He whispered noiselessly a ‘shut up’ to her before returning to the fan talking to him. They asked for a photo and you offered to take it, promising to get the best angles of them as you smiled and got drunk on her rosé. It was a lovely moment, you were happy for the person who got to meet Josh and you were happy for Josh, joking aside, that he had people who loved his art so much.

The fan leaves and you have a little more time alone before Fleet Foxes go on stage. The music swells of an orchestra run by a genius clad in Arizona birkenstocks. His voice sounds incredible and the songs travel through your bodies.

It’s dark out as they play the songs and you and Josh sing along, swaying and holding onto each other. You find yourself staring at the sky or staring at Josh most of the time, forgetting about the musicians on stage. He keeps getting distracted by the cloudy night sky as well.

There’s one moment where both your heads are raised to the night sky, taking it in when Josh feels a shift beside him and he turns his eyes to you. You’re looking at him watching the sky and your eyes meet. His smile comes from the depths of his soul. First small and hesitant and then large and toothy. You match it, enthralled, and Josh reaches his right hand out in between your legs.

You meet him and your hands intertwine softly and Josh begins to sing softly along to Sunblind. His brown eyes are barely alight from the stage lights but you can see him staring at you, singing just for you.

His hand is particularly warm in yours and you rub your thumb along the curve between his and his pointer as he pulls your held hands onto his lap. The song ends and you flutter your eyes closed and rest your head on Josh’s shoulder, firm and warm too. He was constant, he was steady, he was reliable.

Silver Dagger starts up and you try not to listen to the lyrics of the song even though it’s usually one of your favorites. You don't think you want Josh as more than a friend, but you also don't truly want to sleep alone all your life with a silver dagger in your palm. He knew you better than anyone else and as time goes on, you keep getting stuck on the thought that no one will ever know you as well as he does. It will never feel like this. Easy.

Josh hears you whispering the words to yourself, moving your head minutely along his shirt, but he can’t see the way your eyes won’t stop watching the changing lights across the skin of your hands resting on Josh’s thigh.

“Let’s get outta here,” Josh murmurs in your ear when he senses the concert winding down. He wanted them to beat the crowds and he also wanted to spend some time alone with his best friend. “Friday, c’mon.”

“You wanna go before it’s over?” You ask, lifting your head from its happy place against Josh’s form.

“Yeah, let's enjoy the night. I’m tipsy and I want to walk.”

You grin, looking from the stage to Josh and then quickly following him over the concrete slab behind you onto the walkway.

“You know, I’ve heard you tell people leaving your show early to go fuck themselves,” You mention as the music fades to a far away din.

“That’s completely different,” Josh shakes his head with a grin as he pulls you into his side, arm wrapping around your shoulders as he nestles his lips into the side of your head, a sweet kiss to the temple. “Plus, how many times have we seen their show before?”

You nod and rub your hands along the length of Josh’s back. “Upwards of ten.”

“Yeah, we can miss a few songs.”

You hum in agreement. The conversation dies as the night swells around them. The air is cool as the hours tick by in darkness. It was getting closer to fall so after the first few hours of darkness, it had started to drop in temperature in Nashville thankfully. Josh leads the walk back to the house and he hums the tune to one of the songs, content to just be close to Friday.

–

Back in the house, Josh turns on his speaker and connects his phone before handing it to you to play whatever you want. You smiled and watched him pull out a three quarters full bottle of white wine from his fridge and two glasses from a cupboard to your left. Soft instrumental jazz flows through the speaker and Josh grins, handing you a glass.

On the couch, you curl close to one another, heads almost touching and legs tangled up in one another. You and Josh sip at the wine as the bottle and the speaker sit on the coffee table before you. The lights have been set on low and it leaves Josh’s living room in an almost candlelit glow. You remembered when he had first bought this place and how empty it had seemed and then, one week later, it was filled to the brim with Josh. You never wanted to see it any other way, every painting Josh had ever bought, every unique souvenir he had thrifted and every picture he’d framed of his family and friends.

“So dinner party tomorrow night, still okay with you?” Josh asks.

You nod, the soft smile on your woozy lips taking up a permanent residence on your face for as long as you’re with him. “Course. It’ll be nice to see your brothers even if we all know that I really only came here to see you.”

“They better know it,” Josh laughs with a tip of his head. His neck lengthening and the light catches his beautiful high cheekbones that seem to sparkle even without the stage rhinestones he’d grown so fond of.

You laugh along with him and place your empty glasses beside the empty bottle before settling back into Josh. His arms encircle your shoulders as you get comfortable, staring at him as he scans your face. A way to memorize you or a search for anything he might have missed, you’re not sure.

Your free hands go up to touch the cheekbones that had caught your attention. Your fingertips delicately touch down on his angel soft skin and he hums, a flutter to his pretty lashes at your touch. “Pretty boy,” you murmur, tracing the natural contours of his face. He was art in itself.

“Thank you,” he replies sincerely. The theatrics had fallen away for the night. This was Josh and Friday. This was just you and him.

“I miss you,” you say, leaning closer and feeling Josh’s hold grow firmer at your words.

He leans his forehead against yours. “I’m right here, Friday,” he whispers.

His warmth, his breath, his touch, it’s all consuming and you wish you could stay in this moment. Stay forever in his embrace and you breathe out a half-laugh, half-sob.

“You know what I meant, Josh.” You whisper back.

He wets his lips and you shift your hips to rearrange your legs around his, slotting even closer. “Yeah, I do. I miss you.”

It’s silent for a moment between you two. No words pass, just a piano off in the distance barely registering anymore. Josh’s eyes flicker down to your lips making yours venture down to his. His that are lush and pink, wet and parted, inviting you to lean forward and close the smallest distance you’ve ever had to cross for a kiss. He sees the way your breathing hitches and his perfect brown eyes reconnect with yours and they crinkle at the edges. You’re both smiling even if you both might want to cry.

You shift your face and bury your head into the crook of Josh’s shoulder. Your hands wrap around his frame, one curling into his hair and one caressing the skin of the back of his neck, where his shirt connects.

“Oh, Josh,” you murmur against his warm skin, lips brushing like a feather against it.

Goosebumps raise along his neck, just below his jaw, everywhere he wishes was being kissed and his laugh is wet with emotion. “I got you, Friday. I have you.”

You squeeze him harder to you and he holds you to him, something about the compression feeling sublime.

Eventually, you and Josh migrate from the couch and get into sleep clothes. You join him in his bed, the guest room essentially a glorified dressing room for you. Neither of you pretend to plan on sleep on opposite sides of the bed. You gravitate towards one another, magnets pulled together with a greater force than the moon with the tide. Perhaps you spun on your axis with Josh as your sun. Clouds came and went, but Josh was constant. You two were circling one another over and over again. Forever.

You curled into his side as he pulled you towards him. His bare chest the perfect place to rest your weary head. He was smooth and warm and you were grateful for the way his strong arms wrapped around you again making you feel safer than you ever did anywhere else. He hummed as your free hand traveled from the place over the plain of his chest up to his cheek. His head turned into the sensation and you smiled up at him. Even in the darkness of the room, you could make each other out. Sleepy outlines and fluttering eyelashes. Your fingers scrunch softly and scrub over his stubble making him hum in satisfaction again. His hands tap at the skin on your waist. Your thumb sweeps over his cupid’s bow and full bottom lip, catching ever so slightly that you feel a bit of his saliva touch your skin.

You let your hand fall away as he murmurs a goodnight and you reply, settling it back onto his chest. The two of you reaquainting yourselves with each other’s bodies in the riskiest platonic ways you could, just excited to feel one another again.

–

In the morning, Josh is still with you when you blink your eyes open. The pair of you had shifted in your sleep. Now his head rested on your chest, his legs wrapped around yours. Your hands wrapped up in his hair again, keeping him close to your bosom. He nuzzled absently into your skin. Your tank style dress allows for him to be skin to skin with the top of your cleavage.

He hummed in satisfaction at the warmth against him and you smiled up at the ceiling, hands drifting to skim over his shoulders and the golden skin stretching across them. The fuzzy warmth of being wrapped up in Josh and his decadent bed has you drifting into another state of sleep. Darkness overtakes you but you still feel the firm press of Josh’s body against yours. You hear his breathing soft and consistent, feeling the air against your skin like a soothing massage.

The word ‘forever’ passed through your mind again. This is how it was supposed to be forever.

Eventually, Josh stirs and the kiss he presses just below your collarbone is probably meant just for him to know about but you feel it. His sweet lips linger against your skin and you feel a quirk of a smile and suppress every bit of your mind telling you to pull him up to place that same kiss against your lips. You two were better off as friends, especially when you lived so far away now. A romantic relationship with Josh would be torture. At least this didn’t cause you as much pain.

“I felt that,” you murmur.

Josh’s morning raspy voice is heavenly as he laughs against you, vibrating your bodies slightly, and rests his chin on your chest to look up at your face. You cast your eyes down at him, barely open at this angle. You smile at one another.

“Just love waking up so close to you,” he states and clears his throat when the rasp doesn’t leave naturally. “Thankful for the beautiful body that your soul inhabits.”

You shut one eye, embarrassed by the tender statement. He reaches his hands up to delicately trace your facial features, smoothing where you had scrunched up your face. He shushes you even if your resistance had already been silent and you let him. His fingertips are welcome as he touches you so gently, smoothing along the lines of your face and over the arch of your nose.

He pauses and you two shift automatically, back to the way you had fallen asleep. You rest in his arms a little while longer until he begins to stretch his arms over his head.

“Let’s make some coffee, how about that?” He tilts his head to you. “Or else I think we’ll stay here all day.”

“I like the second option,” you say, hooking your leg over his lean hips to keep him from sitting up.

“We have to go grocery shopping eventually so I don’t think it’s viable, Friday love.” He pauses to move your leg off of him with his strong grip and you swallow thickly. He sits at the edge of the bed and looks over his shoulder as he steels himself for fully rising from this bed he truly didn’t want to leave. “I can make you coffee alone, though. How’s that for a compromise?”

You shuffle into a seated position behind him, a mess of white sheets and a discarded quilted blanket surrounding your legs. “Ooh, did you learn that in your ‘managing a band with your twin’ therapy sessions? Good for you, Joshua darling.” You coo as you wrap your arms around his tanned shoulders from behind, one last attempt to get him to stay even though you know he should go.

This has been indulgent even for the pair of you. The sun was clearly high in the sky, alerting the two of you to the fact that it was likely close to noon already. He hums at your touch, your chin coming to rest between his shoulder and neck. His hand comes up to meet your crossed arms over his chest. He runs it softly across you, petting your arm in reassurance.

“Ha ha. They were court mandated actually after the last album,” he speaks dryly. “You can koala onto me for a ride into the kitchen if you can’t stand a moment without me, but if not, you gotta let go, my darling.”

You groan and release him from your hold. You flop back onto the center of the bed with a loud sigh. “Fine.”

Josh stands and looks at you with a grin. An angel in his bed, your thighs sinfully inviting, barely covered by the thin cream fabric of your sleeping dress.

“I’ll be in there soon, this bed is just so fucking comfy.”

“Yeah I know,” he says softly at the edge of the door already. He winks knowingly and then he’s out of sight.

You roll around on the bed and then muster the strength to get up and go to the guest room, to do your morning skin care routine and find a change of clothes. In the kitchen, Josh makes coffee as sighs to himself about how he had woken up. Your skin pressing against him, your breast heaving evenly below him. He had to fight the urge to peak his tongue and lave adoring licks against you until you were begging breathlessly for him. It took him every ounce of restraint to not flip around when you had wrapped your arms around him to not go to the kitchen. His heartbeat barely quickened in these moments because he had grown so accustomed to them, to every feeling you gave him. He didn’t realize it picked up slightly whenever you were around and stayed at a slightly higher beat rate until you were gone.

When you appeared in comfortable clothing that were different from your pajamas, Josh nodded in registration and then handed you your favorite mug of his filled with piping hot coffee.

“What are we thinking for this dinner?” You ask after a few sips of coffee with your hip leaned against the counter Josh had perched himself on.

“Whatever you want,” Josh shrugs both his shoulders with his hands resting on the countertop beside him, coffee discarded for the moment. His biceps bulged like this and you wished he’d stop.

You roll your eyes. “Thanks. Putting the menu on me…connivingly cruel.”

Josh tries to protest but you just shake your head, a whisper of a smile on your lips saying you’re actually fine with it. He knew you loved to make food for loved ones so this was actually a treat for you. You eventually wave him off and walk around his kitchen that was still familiar to you. It was strange in these moments. You hadn’t been there in a while, but with muscle memory and no direction from Josh, you located his catch-all drawer and took out his notepad and a black felt-tip pen. It was like how it felt to visit your parents when you came home in college, the house felt different but usually things were just as you left them. Nothing changes as fast as you sometimes think.

“Okay…” you say, opening the pen and thinking about what you should make for the evening. “Peaches, of course.”

“Of course,” Josh echoes you with a smile in his voice.

“Maybe like an arugula salad with burrata and tomatoes? Sam is just vegetarian, right? Not vegan?”

“Right.” He confirms. “Sounds yum, maybe some peaches in the salad.”

You hum in confirmation, scribbling down ingredients. “I can make, like, a potato salad or something like that if one of you will grill? I can do it, I just don’t want to.”

“Don’t do anything you don’t want to do. I can do it or I can ask the grillmasters Dan and Jake. I’m sure they’re rearing to get one last summer grill in.”

You laugh at Josh’s attempts to sell that Jake and Danny loved grilling so much. You were pretty sure they were ambivalent about the subject, maybe positive, but you’d never seen either of them be so enthusiastic about the skill in the way Josh was saying. More likely he didn’t want to do it either. Neither of you were raw meat fans.

You write down ribs, corn, peppers and portobello mushrooms, as well as ingredients for a sauce you liked with ribs. You asked Josh about his drink selection and he scoffed saying he was stocked like always, until you inquired about whether he had specific la croix flavors or iced tea or the brand of rosé you preferred.

“Okay, well, not those, but everything else you could ever want is under this roof.” He shakes his head indignantly and you watch the muscles in his neck flex and strain causing you to bite the inside of your lip.

You always knew the night before was too much if you were still yearning for your best friend’s touch in the sober light of day. You cap the pen and smile, resolute to get yourself in hand.

“Let’s hop to it,” you say. “We don’t have all day.”

Josh nods and exaggeratedly hops down from the counter, sticking the landing with jazz hands. Your unamused look in response makes him snicker before he plucks his car keys from the hanger they live on at the edge of the room.

—

“Thanks guys for doing the grilling. We wouldn’t be eating until midnight otherwise,” you say as you pat Danny on his shoulder, looking over the smokey grill. “My dad taught me a million times but it still takes me forever.”

Jake tilts the neck of his beer bottle up towards his lips and hums in acknowledgement. He was helping Danny in the lightest sense of the word, but you knew if you didn’t thank both of them you’d get a special kind of silent treatment mixed with haggling from Josh’s twin that you didn’t enjoy.

“Happy to help,” Danny assures with a winning smile. “It’s the end of grilling season afterall…Gotta get one last grill in.”

You narrow your eyes at him and then turn to look over your shoulder, catching the end of Josh’s wink and thumbs up to Daniel as if he had been coaching him to say that. Josh had insisted he help prep all the vegetables and sides leaving the grilling to Danny and Jake who had seemed reluctant when they had first arrived. Thus began Josh insisting that they were happy about it. This reassurance from Danny seemed to be like the final piece of Josh’s show. You nodded your head at Danny with silent acknowledgment of seeing through the facade and thanked him again.

Sam lounged on a chaise by Josh’s pool that would soon be covered up when fall rolled in. Rose was wandering around the spacious backyard, sniffing and enjoying the familiar but still different enclosure to her own backyard. Josh had asked them all to keep the gathering small so none of them brough dates or significant others, you weren’t one hundred percent sure who had what these days. It didn’t bother you that you hadn’t stayed caught up on the rest of the band’s lives when you left town. Josh had been your best friend and while you loved the other three, they were just a part of the package. Like free add-ons that were great, but they were never your main focus. Josh loved them and you and that was enough for you.

After a few rounds of drinks for everyone and some final prepping, dinner is ready and Sam finally offers to help with carrying things from the kitchen to Josh’s beautiful outdoor dining table in the corner of the backyard.

The natural wood table existed on a stone grotto and had a pergola to offer it shade when the sun was shining high above. Sunset was well on its way so it simply was a place for Josh’s beloved wisteria to bloom and hang above the table and wrap around the sides. Beautiful white wisteria with tinges of lilac seeping through the petals were thriving and hanging around the table mixed with some hanging lights Josh had installed since the last time you were here. They weren’t lit yet but you were sure they would turn on once it got darker.

One last touch that you had contributed when he had first gotten the table were two miniature vintage chandeliers that held four candles each. All of them had been burned to short nubs now, but Josh insisted he liked them like that, showing someone had been there. The crystal balls glinted in the fading light, wrapped in the copper piping that kept them together. It was a beautiful little area, surrounded by the beautiful greenery of Josh’s garden that he made sure to nurture as best he could with some help from gardeners when he wasn’t home. It was a space that was so Josh, a mix of the natural and the decadent, you wondered what he would do if he ever moved again.

Sam carefully moved the abalone shells adorning the actual table to the far end since there were only five of you and began to arrange the food on the table. You brought out the salad and thanked him for his help and he winked with a sly smile. You two understood each other as fellow youngest siblings, always trying your best to avoid more work than was necessary.

Josh sat at the head of the table with you and Danny to his left and Jake and Sam to his right. Josh pulled you into his side and placed a quick kiss to your hair before either of you could sit down and you laughed.

“Glad you’re here, Friday.” He murmurs in your ear before letting you go and you smile as you flutter your eyelashes to meet his eye.

“Alright, alright,” Jake murmurs gruffly, watching you and his twin with his usual suspicion.

“I’m hungry!” Sam interjects, cutting Jake off from saying anything else.

“Yeah, let’s eat before it gets too dark and the food gets cold!” Danny adds reason before anyone can lose their head.

Josh makes a tutting sound with his mouth, “First, a toast…” He raises his glass of wine and waits with a raised brow for everyone to put their drinks into the center of the table. “To my family. You all mean so much to me. And especially to my Friday, anyone would be lucky for you to come into their lives and I sure am glad I’m not one of those sorry sons of bitches waiting for you to walk through the door ‘cause they’re gonna be waiting a long fucking time. You’re in it for life with me, I hope you know that.”

He chuckles and you laugh, confirming you knew. Your eyes shining up at him from your seat, love and admiration twisting around in your irises. Jake and Sam and Danny all share a look with each other.

“Thanks for coming, darling.” He reiterates a little more sincerity seeping into his throat.

Everyone echoed their salutations and took a sip with chatter falling over all of you as plates and bowls started getting passed around the table. The evening air was settling over the backyard, the smell of the wisteria mixing with the food in a wonderful way.

Laughter and the rustling of leaves and melting ice cubes clinking around in glasses is all that can be heard for a while. No one had wanted to put on any music for once and you couldn’t believe it, but it was quite nice. Out where Josh lived there wasn’t much to cause any distracting sounds, just nature. Birds calling to one another, water running and all that was good and beautiful. It was calming, disrupted only by the loud voices of you and your companions growing roudier as food diminished and you all got further into your portion of drinks for the night.

“I’ll go get another bottle,” You said when Danny held up the empty wine bottle that had been sitting in the ice bucket for barely a minute before anyone took notice. A sheepish look from Sam said it all.

“I’ll come assist,” Josh jumps up from his seat before you’ve taken two steps away from the table. “Uncorking,” he adds when he sees the look on Jake’s face.

He slings an arm across your shoulders as you two hurriedly walk a little drunkenly to the back door of the kitchen. You were buzzing with energy. The dinner had been a success, the guys were good eaters so it was always pleasing to make food for them. It all disappeared by the end and they always made sure to effuse how good it all was. The alcohol in your system also contributed to the energy. You were sure your cheeks were flushed hot against the cooling night air. Josh leaned against you and you basked in the cool touch of his skin against you.

In the kitchen, he tugged on the hem of the white summer skirt you were wearing and you made a small yelping sound, pulling the fabric back from his touch with a smile.

“Paws off!” You teasingly chastised and swiveled to the fridge, searching for another bottle of white. “Should we bring dessert out now too, do you think?”

Josh had leaned himself up against the counter since you’d shrugged him off. His head leaned back, elongating his neck again. His adam’s apple bobbing along his strong throat as he contemplated your question and clenched his jaw. That skirt had been teasing him all night long and as you twirled around in it, more and more of your thighs would show themselves to him.

“I already cut the peaches,” you say, tilting your head to the side, wanting his response on the issue. You pursed your lips as you waited, holding the bottle out to him so that he would open it like he promised.

The movement brought Josh out of his reverie and he took the bottle deftly. His eyes were still sweeping across your figure, where the skirt skimmed your thighs and where your collarbone poked from beneath your black halter top. He loved how effortless you always looked yet still put together. You were barefoot in his kitchen looking like a god to him, your hair in his favorite style. He wanted to sweep you off your feet and kiss you blind, dessert and his brothers be damned.

“Peaches,” he repeated absently, beginning to open the bottle without looking.

You rolled your eyes at his dreamy stare. The way he was looking at you was a little unnerving, but you knew it was just drunk Josh. You were more thrown off by him being so quiet. By now, there should have been an impromptu performance of some song that had been on his mind since you’d gotten in here or a little dance about the wine. He always came up with something and yet tonight so far it was just ‘peaches’ said like he was a hundred miles away.

“Okay…” You pull out the word and grab the desserts from the fridge and place them on the island before crossing to him, wanting to get more of his attention.

The cork pops and it brings Josh’s eyes back to your face, closer now. His lips quirk up into a smile and he flicks his eyes to his hands around the neck of the wine. He drops the opener to the counter and lifts his hand up from the wine between you two. His thumb had a few drops of wine on it, spilled from the uncorking process.

His open-mouthed smile is intoxicating more than the alcohol as he raises the thumb to your lips, pressing the liquid to them without any hesitation. Your tongue peaks out to get a better taste and you exhale a small laugh through your nose. His hand lingers by your face as the two of you stare deeply into each other's eyes. Last night you two had been alone, but tonight with other people around, these stolen moments of privacy held greater intensity. You were toeing the line of what was acceptable for friends to do in private just in case someone came in. The thrill of getting caught seemed irresistible.

As Josh is retracting his touch after what felt like an eternity, Jake was popping his head around the corner with a raised brow and a bored look. “Dessert time yet? Or is that bottle too difficult for you children?”

You take a step back from Josh, eyes returning to the desserts on the table and Josh laughs his big boisterous laugh, gaining Jake’s full attention and holding up the successfully opened bottle.

“When you’re right, you’re right, Jake. Wine and desserts coming your way,” He walks over to Jake and guides him by the shoulders back towards the door. He overwhelms Jake’s focus by talking in his theatric muttering way, “You know, patience is a virtue or so they say…”

As he walks with Jake in front of him he turns back to you with a cheeky wink you’d never seen directed at you and you wondered if the little game you two had just played really had been just for you two. And perhaps not a game at all.

You carry the plate filled with peach slices and the blackberry tart you and Josh had thought looked the best from the bakery out to the table. The evening has grown and as you’d expected the little lights keep the area visible. Aglow in a warm light, the space takes on a calmer atmosphere. Sam and Danny clear the dinner plates as you, Jake and Josh settle back down. You murmur about the smell of the wisteria and Josh agrees, planting his left hand over your right.

Your hand flips instinctively and your fingers lace, threading like a needle through silk. Josh’s eye flick to your hands and then he cranes his neck in wonderment of the night, taking it all in. Jake drinks in silence. It is peaceful and you’re happy to let it flow for a while, basking in this evening.

“When do you go back to California?” Jake asks carefully, uncharacteristically choosing to break the silence.

Josh doesn’t make his attention known to the question, still staring through the slats of the pergola up at the star-filled sky. You clear your throat and smile down at your lap, slightly saddened by the reminder you were leaving.

“Monday morning.” You say and Jake nods. “When does the next leg of tour start up?”

“Friday,” He shrugs, unbothered.

This word, Josh’s nickname for you, finally catches his attention, bringing his gaze straight to you. You meet it and he smiles, eyes lighting up with that boyish wonder that made everyone’s hearts swoon, yours included.

Smiling at each other, hands intertwined beneath the stars. A cool breeze sweeping across your skin. It felt like time froze, everything else fading to the background.

“I need to talk to you,” Josh murmurs after a moment when the sound of the back door and Sam and Danny returning clicks him from his thoughts.

You quirk your brows at this statement but you nod and turn to smile up at the men rejoining the conversation. Talk of tour and work falls back into place and you laugh over their complaints about playing arenas and they laugh at your issues with your own job. All of you seeing what’s not so green on the other side. Hazy plans for the future of the band get brought up over the desserts you all indulge in and the greater amounts of water everyone’s consuming rather than more alcohol. The rush was slowing down, the night winding itself to a natural ending place. Somehow Rosie ended up in Sam’s lap, her face resting on his arm that curls protectively around her.

Jake is the first to call it a night, the way he looks between you and Josh makes you think it has something to do with him overhearing Josh’s request. He gives you a quick hug, not unaffectionate but it’s extremely balanced which was unusual for Jake at this time. Sam and Danny are quick to agree, Sam offering to take them all home given his sobriety. Their hugs are more comforting and you feel grateful for them even if you didn’t realize how much they truly meant to you.

Josh insists you sit outside while he walks them out and gets the kitchen in order. Your protests are half-hearted before you let him follow them into the house. He kisses the crown of your head once more and his hand drifts back towards you as he walks away. A physical promise that he doesn’t wish to part from you.

You walk around the backyard, your barefoot feet happy against the still warm stones. Your hands skim across the table, replacing the shells back to the center. Every so often you look back to the door into the kitchen thinking you heard Josh coming back out, but no head of curls appears just yet. You begin to walk the perimeter of the pool, with one foot directly in front of the other with your arms out wide, as if it were a balance beam. The stakes were low on one side while the other was a bit more treacherous now that the sun had been gone for more than an hour.

Josh manages to sneak up on you when you’re staring up at the stars, arms wrapped around your frame. He places his chin on the crook of your shoulder and you can hear him smiling before he even speaks. His arms encirlcing yours, his smooth delicate fingers skimming over your wrists and forearms until they lace infront of your waist.

You try to peek at him with your eyes but it’s mostly a blur of his prominent nose, handsome facial hair and fluttery lashes. He hums at the warmth of you and you sway a little in his hold.

“What did you want to talk to me about?” You whisper, moving your gaze back to the sky and your hands down to his arms.

You lean into his hold and he tightens his grip. A deep breath floats past your ear and you wonder why he won’t let you turn around.

“Friday,” he sighs and he sounds almost dejected, something you rarely hear from him unless in jest. “I’m in love with you. Not just as a best friend, but more.”

Tears prick your eyes immediately as the words wash over you. This time you yank out of his hold and whip around to face him, a slightly bewildered and nervous expression on his angelic features. Your palms are quick to grip his jaw, tilting his face to really look at you.

“And I know we’ve got our separate lives in different states,” He decides to continue before you can speak. “And I know I’m always touring so I’m not asking you to move back here or anything, and I know we haven’t technically dated but–”

“Josh,” You stop him and his lips are parted in the sweetest way. Your thumb brushes against his bottom lip like before and you smile as he lets you, his eyes growing in intensity under the string lights.

“But,” He tilts his head seriously, ignoring your distracting touch. “I think you’re the only one for me and I want to make it official.”

You stare at him silently, your own mouth agape slightly because you knew what Josh was saying. In his Josh way, he wasn’t just asking for you to be his partner for now, he meant for life.

But still you wanted to confirm, “Are you asking me to marry you?”

Josh smiles with a bit of a laugh to himself, his eyes looking to the small space between your bodies for a beat before back at you. “It can be a long engagement. Five years or however much you need, but I don’t want to spend another second where I’m not able to tell people I’m yours.”

“You’re fascinating,” you breathe and then bring his lips to yours for the first time with purely romantic intentions behind it. It’s short, but the way his mustache tickles you makes you immediately think that you could get used to this being a regular thing. “I’ve always been yours, but if you want to make it official with a ring, I’m there too. I love you.”

He grins at you before pulling you back in for another kiss. This one is longer as his hands slip around the back of your neck and to cradle your jaw, begging you to get even closer. He sighs into your mouth and it’s like a wall has been lifted that you didn’t know existed. Tongues clashing in a perfect rhythm as he kisses you senseless beneath the stars. Your hands wandering across his back and feeling at total peace knowing this was about to be the rest of your life. Completely safe in the arms of your home, never having to know a life with a dagger in your palm just your sweet sweet Josh and his heart cradled perfectly within your hold. Everything else would fall into place, as long as you had him you weren’t worried.

Taglist: @ofthecaravel @malany-gvf @whiterosekiszka @jaketlove @sinarainbows @gretavanfreaky @myownparadise96 @josh-iamyour-mama @thecoldwind @thewritingbeforesunrise

#josh kiszka x you #josh kiszka x reader #josh kiszka x y/n #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fluff #josh kiszka fic #josh kiszka fanfiction #josh kiszka fluff #josh kiszka #greta van fleet fluff #greta van fleet #my writing

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breeofbree · 20 days

Text

Stupid rules

Swiss x f!reader

Summary: Y/N had rules put in place to avoid getting hurt. But were the rules too much? A FLUFFY Swiss one shot. Expect more Ghost fics upcoming, if there’s anyone you want to see… let me know! (sorry I've been gone for a while)

Warnings: hardcore fluff, slightly OOC because I crave sappy fics.

It was a sunny day. Almost too sunny as I watch the ghouls strut down the path of the abbey, white flowers dancing lazily against the oddly warm breeze, signaling their return home. His eyes meet mine, and I can’t help but break the gaze, trying to hurry off as if I was never there. Swiss however abruptly changes his path, closing in on my location by the greenhouse, arms encircling my waist and sweeping me off my feet to twirl me around like an overdue award.

“Darling of mine!” Swiss exhales excitedly while gently returning my feet to the earth.

His lips smashed against my cheeks in a fiery passion, attacking my face in peppered kisses. his toothy smile etched its way against my forehead as the pit of guilt in my stomach drops and I push myself away. My outstretched arms hold us what felt like worlds apart as his curious eyes flicker around in confusion, smile quickly fading.

“Swiss-“ I try to remind him before he sets a finger against my lip,” no, no. Don’t remind me, I remember, Y/N.”

His face mimics that of someone witnessing a puppy being kicked before his eyes find interest in the cobblestone beneath us,” no attachment, I know the rule. But-“

“Yes I know, you’re just affectionate with everyone. But Swiss, I’m not.” I sigh, knowing he only does it in good nature. The ghouls were all affectionate in their own ways, Cumulus adores hugs and Mountain protectively wraps around anyone smaller than him while walking. Even Dew would sling an arm around someone or drape a limb over you while sitting. But Swiss was different, it was a more intimate feeling that I didn’t know how to handle. It felt to me as if we were betrothed or courting, when to him, it was only another day.

The pang in my chest signals that I’ve already broke my cardinal rule of attachment. Because at the abbey, the line is muddled between love and friendship, you never know when a ghoul is actually trying to advance a relationship or if you’re just a really good friend. With my own rule set in place, I had been touch starved and lonely, close to that of a nun. Maybe I’m starting to realize the effects on him too, but breaking the rule would only lead to my own one sided heart break.

I can only watch as he shuffles his feet awkwardly, as if his body was conjuring the flashy smile back to his face before nodding. He awkwardly puts a hand on my shoulder and pats it,” well it’s nice to see you nonetheless.”

“Yeah, you too… I have to uh- go pack my bags.” I cough back, patting the hand that remained stagnant against my shoulder and turning away as a farewell.

“Right, right. The tour coming up. Busy little thing you are.” He chuckles out, almost a sense of bitterness in the air. As he raises his hand to punch my chest lightly. I was bitter at myself, so I understood the tone. I couldn’t help but wince, sparing a glance back to him with a half cocked smile,” at least I’ll have you there with me.”

It was stupid, so stupid.

I find myself banging my head against the wall of my room, empty suitcases mocking me,” at least I’ll have you there with me. Good way to not show affection, you idiot. Stupid, stupid, stupid.”

A series of knocks against the door matches the rhythm of my head pounding motion,” doors unlocked.”

“Are you almost packed little one- eh …what are you doing?” Copia rings out, quickly buffering the space between my head and the wall with a gloved hand in confusion.

“Knocking some sense in to myself. You should try it sometime.” I mumble out, tilting my head in his direction. I notice the slight grimace at the almost definite red mark against my head before he clears his throat,” I do believe that term is meant to be taken metaphorically, no? What is on that mind of yours?”

“A headache.” I groan in reply, unceremoniously slamming my head on to the wall for a final time and letting it rest in defeat.

“Other than that.” He tuts back, giving my back an encouraging slap. I shoot a less than eager glare towards his prodding and grimace,” I’m just worried about being on the road. I’m already a long ways from home and I’m quite honestly rethinking my whole life. I should still be home.”

Copia steps away, creating space as he sits crookedly against the armchair at the foot of my bed,” take a seat. I need to process what you just said.”

I can only give the wall a look of confusion before trudging over to sit beside him,” what is there to process?”

He only turns to me, face blank before rolling his eyes,” you remind me of a much… much, younger me sometimes dear Y/N. Home is not a place. Physically yes, mentally… well, it’s whatyou want it to be. If you miss home then by all means go home… but what is home to you?”

My mind acts on its own, imagining a flickering smile. No, think of the golden and fiery red trees, the foggy lake… anything but that. The way his arms fling around me without hesitation- no! Abandoned buildings off the railroad tracks you used to walk at night, not him!

“Home is- it’s where… he- I! It’s where I grew up.” I spew the alphabetical garbage from my mouth, contemplating on returning to my post at the wall.

Copia whistles, tapping his fingers against his knees,” wow, how convincing… well that was a waste of time. I’ll let you pack.”

He gets up slowly, almost waiting for me to interject his leave. After a few slow steps he turns back, eyes hooded in annoyance and defeat before turning back around. My hands fidget against my lap, contemplating if he already knows my true problem and is just waiting for me to admit it. He beckons me with a furl of his hands, quickly giving up, heaving a sigh and waving me off.

“Wait!” I huff out, not even fully sure what to say as he turns back to me,” c-can home be a person? I mean not like romantically or anything, because that would be crazy and-“

“Break your pitiful, half assed ‘no affection’ rule because you deny joyful things in life? Absolutely!” He chuckles deviously, purposefully leaving the door cracked open as he takes his leave.

“It’s not half assed by the way!” I shout down the hall, receiving a wave off in reply,” what fun is life if you refuse to get frisky and just enjoy it? Rules are meant to be broken!”

I bite against my nails in habit, fixating on his words in contemplation. He had a point, honestly. So what if my heart was broken? So what if everything came crashing down around me? I would either wake the next day, or I wouldn’t. It didn’t change the fact that the world kept moving. The only thing that hadn’t moved was my mind… it was me.

“Are you just going to stand in the hall like a lost child or are you gong to find rules to break, you little hellraiser? Move, do something!” Copia calls out from down the hallway, shaking his head in disbelief. My steps are slow at first, but they fall in to a steady and brisk pace as I follow his direction, he calls out in encouragement,” oh finally! Run along now, go go.”

I can hear him grumbling as I jog past him, not sure as what direction to go, but find myself returning to the greenhouse. The sun was setting, a dark red hue encasing the surroundings and the last light of sun reflecting off the glass and causing everything to shimmer. Sisters bustle around, prepping for night to come and finishing their tasks for the day. It was serene, a breath of fresh air I needed. The flowers from earlier now sit still, taking on a new orange tint from the sun. I couldn’t help but gently brush my fingertips across the stretching row, feeling as the freshly collecting dew collides with my fingertips.

“Entrancing isn’t it?” A voice beckons, joining my motions a few flowers down.

“…yeah. I haven’t had the chance to come out here at night. Ive been too busy creating rules for myself that should’ve been broken long ago.” I mumble back, seeing Swiss tilt his head in curiosity and tilting a flower forward to admire it. He lets out a silent laugh and turns his head towards me, shoulders relaxing,” are you finally allowing yourself to roam the halls at night with Cumulus again?”

“Oh no, that’s not a rule I personally put in place. We got a little tipsy and wandered in to the wrong room. We’ll just say Sister Imperator was less than enthused.” I chuckle back, allowing myself to let my fingers come closer to his. I can see his hand jerk in anticipation, but he quickly recovers, setting them back gently in to place, hooked around a flower. I find myself lost in his trance like motions, making everything seem effortless and yet, so gentle the petals barely flutter.

“Not ready yet?” He asks, gazing down at the flower. I look to him, being brought back to reality and letting out a small hum in confusion, not quite understanding his question.

Im not sure if it’s the dew, or my palms becoming sweaty in anticipation, but my trembling hands refuse to move as I wait for him to speak again.

“The flower. Is it not ready to pick yet?” He questions, meeting my eyes. Heat crawls from my neck to my face as I decide what to do next. My hands robotically move to hover above his, pointing at the petals,” no, it’s ready. It’s actually over due. See the little leaves holding the bud? Its called a sepal, its like protection when the flower hasn’t budded yet. They’re all the way down, meaning it’s fully bloomed… no longer needing protection.”

“Would it hurt it if I picked it… now that it’s too late?” Swiss exhales breathily.

I shake my head,” it’s never too late. They need picked or cut eventually.”

My hands wrap around the tops of his, guiding them to show him the correct spot to cut and the thorns to avoid. Just like my rules, navigating around them was tricky. I realize how stupid I had been when it took a simple garden rose to make me realize the idiocy behind it. Love shouldn’t be intricate, it should be wild and passionate… given for monumental moments and just because. Just for the hell of it.

“Let me grab some shears before anyone notices, it’ll be our little secret.” He whispers as if there were still others bustling around us, when in reality we were now all alone. And it’s not like one single flower would cause the whole abbey to crash down in panic. Swiss quickly returns from the pitch black darkness of the greenhouse, boasting a pair of shears and rushing back in excitement. His hands outstretch, offering me the blades,” show me.”

“No, do it with me.” I offer, quickly placing them in the spot to cut, and motioning Swiss forward. His hands easily engulf mine and he snips the stem, quickly snatching the rose before it drops to the ground.

By now, the roses have sunk from a peachy orange, to a shimmering purple twilight hue, mimicking the world around us. The air was now crisp and fresh, much like the flower that was being extended towards me,” a flower for a flower.”

I take it slowly with a smile, twisting it in my fingers before my other hand reaches upwards to link around his neck and pull him down.

A kiss against his right cheek, then his left, then his forehead. I kiss the tip of his nose before Swiss even dares to move. But his hand quickly snakes around my waist, almost hovering in question before fully bringing me in to his body and twisting me towards the ground in a dip. I gasp at the sudden movement, eyes flying open in shock to see his moonlit illuminated face with that devious smile,” it was never about the flower, was it?”

“No.” I breathe back, steadying myself with my other hand against his chest, rose and all. It was the ending of a long winded dance. Instead of my feet aching, it was my heart in desperation. But Swiss took all the time in the world, i could swear he was searching for lost treasure or even approval in my eyes. His cheeks become tinged as his head slowly comes towards mine, eyes closing and his free hand cupped against my cheek.

Cheek kisses after a long day meant nothing, forehead kisses as a greeting couldn’t even compare to the sensation of his lips against mine. It was as if they were etched by a world renowned sculptor eager to become the best. I only pull away to breathe, since all the wind from my lungs had been knocked out the moment we connected.

“So is that how you say goodnight?” I jokingly bite towards him, trying to steady myself and stand upright. Swiss pulls me straight and laughs, shaking his head in thought,” no. it was breaking a rule I’ve wanted to break for a very long time.”

“I was told earlier that rules were meant to be broken.” I reply, thinking back to my earlier conversation with Copia, feeling how Swiss lets his hands drone aimlessly down my sides and across my back.

“If it was Copia, I should warn you he has a betting pool going with the other ghouls on all your rules and when you would break them. And he bet last month you would break the ‘no affection rule’ before tour.” Swiss winces out, quickly scanning our surroundings to see if anyone was around to witness. I raise an eyebrow,” a betting pool? And do you happen to partake in this?”

He shrinks in embarrassment,” I’m truly heartbroken you would believe I’d be one to partake in gambling!”

“…you lost didn’t you?” I grumble out, landing a punch cheekily against his arm. Swiss scoffs,” I’ll have you know, I bet that you would never break. I was starting to think you didn’t like me... and now I’m down two hundred bucks.”

“It’s not my fault I thought you were just being friendly.” I scoff right back. He drops his head once again,” who kisses friends? I may be a ghoul, but I figured I was making myself clear.”

“I’ve literally watched you full on mouth kiss Dew before.” I mutter mundanely, receiving a surprised expression in reply,” was I drunk?”

“Completely sober, hot shot.” I answer back, knowing damn well it was a lie.

“I feel like I would’ve remembered this.” Swiss ponders, his thinking face coming to the surface as he still refuses to let me go. I wait in silence as I watch him suffer before finally breaking,” okay it was a lie. But the fact you had to think about it concerns me.”

I find myself being dipped once again, this time a different… more sultry aura is present,” the fact that you can keep me guessing really drives me crazy. Could it be possible a ghoul can fall so madly in love with a creature such as a fallen angel?”

Fallen angels, the true tricksters and deceivers of god.

Ones who tempt others to sin as they do so themselves.

I was never righteous enough to be considered an angel to begin with.

But in this story, if it were to be one, a fallen angel had fallen madly in love with a creature from hell.

After all, anything from hell was much more beautiful than anything from heaven to deceive humans.

And I am the one to fall in to the damnation of lust. The greatest sin to exist, as it was the easiest to give in to with a man like him holding me daintily from crashing to the ground and through the pits of hell.

Lust is the perfect description of how our souls intertwine in this moment, the ecstasy of finally giving in.

“No fallen angel has ever came from the depths of hell, I may be a succubus if anything.” I manage to reply, wishing I could think of something as smart as him.

“You’re mine, is what you are.” Swiss breathes heavily, arching my back so my head dips closer to the ground, sealing his words in to a promise with a kiss against the quickly beating vein in my neck.

Just as quickly, his lips leave and my head clouds in what could be oxygen deprivation or a desire for more. He twirls me around, mocking a waltz before finally coming to a halt and standing in front of me with my hand not holding the rose in both of his.

He bends down, placing one last kiss against my knuckles and snapping his head up with that snarky grin,” how about we continue this dance tomorrow, Y/N?”

My words stick hotly in my throat, matching the rest of my quickly heating body,” I wouldn’t dare miss it. We have a lot of missed dances to make up for.”

Swiss pats my hand gently, entwining our fingers together to lead me to the door.

As the door pushes open, we’re met with a loud crash of a plate hitting marble in shock and a shit eating grin below a pair of mismatched eyes,” I do believe you owe me two hundred dollars, my friend.”

#swiss ghoul #swiss x reader #swiss ghost #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost band fanfic #the band ghost x reader #the band ghost fic #Swiss ghoul x reader #Swiss ghoul fanfic

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portlandwithyou · 1 month

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Fraser/Vecchio- A Personal Reflection

Now I came to Due South on the trail of the killers of my father-- wait, no, that's not quite right. Let me try again. I came to Due South on the trail of this gif set. Eaion sold me the instant I saw it. I knew I had to see these two guys who were stuck in crevasse together.

One slight problem- the gif set is from the very end of the show and I had a daunting sixty-some-odd episodes, and a whole different partner, between me and it. It's fine, I told myself; I'll check out the first guy, see if he's worth it, and if he's not, I'll move on to the main attraction.

So I started at the beginning--and that's where I fell in with the show, the characters, and a brand new ship. These are my thoughts about the Due South pilot, written out while I re-watched the pilot.

I liked Fraser instantly. It's not hard to in those first few minutes; he's a grieving son who is searching for his father. He's sweet, he's polite, he's dedicated to justice-- literally what more could you ask for?

What I didn't expect was to like this first Ray so quickly. When he strode down to Fraser doing statute duty, shirt open, chain visible, loud mouth going, I knew I was in love.

But I hadn't yet spotted the ship on the horizon. I was simply enjoying the burgeoning friendship as we met Diefenbaker and began our investigation.

I started to see the glimmer of something in the scene where Ray find Fraser reading Bob Fraser's journal in the diner. I adore that we see Ray opening up to Fraser about his no-good father, and we get that sharp contrast between the two.

But the ship finally took form during the dinner scene. I am a complete sucker for the way the Vecchios immediately take him in as one of their own. I mean, the way Ma Vecchio says she likes him because he's polite-- does that not read like something you would say if he brought a girlfriend home?? It's so natural for Fraser to be there. It's like he was always a missing piece in Ray's life.

Just, oh gosh, the way Ray so clearly trusts Fraser (he brings him into his home!) and the way they're already falling into place makes me grin like a total fool. That's literally what I'm doing as I write this!

Then, we get to see them track down a lead together. Now, this is an integral moment in a buddy cop dynamic. They have to have some chemistry as they solve cases, and by god, Due South delivers in spades when the time comes. Fraser trying his hand at one of Ray's hunches! They're already rubbing off on each other. And Ray gets a great moment of comedy as he reacts to Fraser's first licking scene.

So here's another thing that kills me-- Ray calls them friends as they walk to the Chinatown apartment! They have an immediate connection! I'm screaming! They are meant to be together!

After they establish that they're friends, we get to see some angst—beautiful, wonderful angst. Everyone is at their lowest, and circumstances are pulling Ray and Fraser apart. Tell me this isn't just the normal 2/3rds point in a romance novel where our couple is pushed apart.

But that makes their reunion so much sweeter. Ray came all the way up to bumfuck nowhere NWT after solving a case he probably wasn't even on anymore! He was that eager to come up there and tell Fraser what he'd discovered.

And then, of course, they look you right in the eye and have Fraser ask, "Can I help you out of that?" I AM SCREAMING! Literally kicking my feet up! They know what they're doing!

Next is the big fight/chase sequence where Fraser gets to drive Ray around on a dog sled which is cute and sweet.

Special mention here of Diefenbaker, as I've mostly been glossing over his cuteness. And he's a poor baby at the end.

Finally, we have the ending. Not Ray riding off into the distance together-- I'm talking about when Fraser is standing guard outside of the consulate again, and Ray is already back prattling at his new best friend. ❤️

#this is lame #SORRY IF IT IS #but I just have so many feelings about Ray and Fraser #ds30below #due south

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ignoranxed · 3 months

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EDIT: I just realised I watched till ep 2 without realising and put some ep 2 content on here as well, so I'll be making a seperate post with some more content from both the wos in a bit!!

MONN guess who’s watched ep 1&2 for our #vvrewatch2024!! i was legit kicking my feet, giggling like a 15 year old, going absolutely BALLISTIC at peun and talay and their universe travelling friendship 😭😭😭

here is a brief rundown of my thoughts on these episodes. there are definitely SEVERAL more things that I thought/felt while watching but your girl isn’t so inept with an online community watch party hehe. don’t you worry, though!! that shall definitely get better in the coming few weeks!! now for the rundown

1. how young were our boys?? like ik they’re both old enough (older than me at least!!) but do you see they were such babies??? ohh man i missed my clumsy talay and my cutely annoying peun 😭😭😭 i mean just look at them mon

2. i cannot help but notice and appreciate how much care and attention this show was made with. like look at the colours in this picture

i wish i’d taken a video of this scene because what mastery. the colours, the angles, the background score, the sets, the sheer artistry of this production never ceases to amaze me and you shall be hearing a lottt more about it from me in the coming weeks, my love.

3. borrowing from my previous point, this show is soo magical, mon. like this point is just an appreciation for moments like the one below. i remember watching this one with goosebumps because the lighting, jimmy’s singing, js’s acting, the camera angles everything just makes you feel like you’re in a dream. maybe that’s how it was for peun & talay over here because i’m universe travelling ???? and i found someone from my own universe ??? like what??? too good man, i really cannot fall in love with this show enough

4. i do not have a picture for this, but throughout these eps, in the scenes where you see the switch between sea and ohm, there are so many instances where you can see the confusion/hope/conviction in sea’s face (it also translates into ohm’s btw) as he tries to get this pakorn to talk to him and get back to his universe/life. i’ll take a picture to show you in my next post maybe (because a girls texting you from work lmaoo) but this was just one of those parts where you could see the care and attention that went into making VV

5. bonus point. this scene was hilarious 🤣🤣 sea swearing will always be soo cute to me, like look at this cutie patootie swearing heheheh

6. second bonus point. again no pic, but what a gift ep1 must’ve been for the bad buddy fans?? since vv was my first bl, i was admittedly CLUELESS during my first watch of the show. with this rewatch though, since i’ve already watched bbts, i can really see how much people would’ve lost their minds during ep 1&2. the fact that we even got milklove??? chef’s kiss 🤌🏽🤌🏽🤌🏽

that’s all of my thoughts for the first 2 eps mon!! i cannot wait to hear your thoughts babe, and sooo excited for this communal rewatch experience :)))

@stormyoceans @cryingoverweiying get on with the watch and tell me your thoughts asap, besties!!

#vvrewatch2024 #ignorants #soo much more to say and said so little because jimmysea and vice versa make me lose my mind and my words #cannot thank you enough for this superrr fun experience mon!!#jimmy jitaraphol #sea tawinan #jimmysea #vice versa #vice versa the series

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markantonys · 7 months

Note

Since we didn’t get Gawyn in season 2, how do you think he and Egwene will meet on the show?

giggling and kicking my feet over being ENCOURAGED to talk about gawene hahaha okay so i really do think there's 0% chance of the girls returning to the tower next season, which leaves only 2 possibilities for Gawene Meet-Cute Timeframe that i can see as of now:

1) they don't meet until AFTER the entire waste arc, so probably season 4. this would be an equivalent of the LOC era when elaida's embassy comes to rand, and egwene and gawyn overlap for a bit before she heads off for salidar. in the books this is the point when they get together, but the bulk of their relationship doesn't happen until the last 3 books, so i think it would be just fine to delay their first meeting until LOC era and have them not get together at all until TGS era.

however, barring changes to his storyline or motivations (which are totally possible!), gawyn needs to care enough about egwene to be willing to defect from elaida's army BEFORE their TGS reunion. they don't need to actually be romantically involved yet for this, but they do need to have spent enough time together that we could buy gawyn going to such lengths to help her. it's workable if all they've had is a handful of scenes in season 4, but preferable if a meeting could be squeezed in during s3 so then their potential overlap time in s4 is more like friends reuniting than strangers just getting to know each other.

which brings us to 2) as suggested here by @butterflydm, maybe s3 will pick up not in falme, but in caemlyn! with the gang having traveled partway from falme between seasons and making a pit stop in caemlyn in 3x01, either just the waste crew, or the entire party and then caemlyn is where they split up for their separate destinations. if this happened, then egwene and gawyn could meet during season 3! probably not for more than an episode (i expect the waste gang to arrive in the waste by the end of 3x01, if not sooner, since they've got a lot to do there and no time to waste - no pun intended), but that would at least give them the familiarity with each other to then build a real friendship in season 4. plus, if season 3 is going to be putting the final nail in the coffin of randgwene and then seeing avirand get together, it might be kinda nice for egwene to have a teeny flirting opportunity of her own with a cute prince in 3x01 haha

#anonymous #answered #wot book spoilers

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kazimakuwabara · 9 months

Text

Banter

Summary: Team Urameshi gets into a bit of trouble, and do what they do best. Argue. And while it may look like all the team does is argue, enemies should beware that if they truly try to threaten one of their own... well they'll find out what else Team Urameshi is good at. (2k+, drama, friendship, hurt/comfort)

***

"I would like to get out of the cage, now!"

"We're trying to get to you!"

"Try harder!"

"Kuwabara, Shut up!"

"You shut up!"

Kuwabara kicked his feet against the blackened bars of the cage he was currently huddled in. It was not a very big cage, with only enough room for Kuwabara to sit or lay down. The cage didn't seem very strong either, with its deceptively thin bars, and wide gaps. But since being forced into the damned thing, Kazuma Kuwabara had become sluggish. He can't feel his own Reiki, let alone his friends, engaged in battle several yards away. He also can't sense the strength of the demon, who is lying atop Kuwabara's cage like a stretched out cat, lazily watching Kuwabara's friends fight off his hoard of cronies.

"You all fight so well... are you sure you don't want to come work for me?" the red-skinned demon asked, a forked tail lazily swishing behind him as he watched Hiei cleave someone in half.

"Not interested!" Yusuke snaps. He points a finger at the demon, "You just wait until I get over there, bud! I'm gonna rip your tail off and strangle you with it until your head pops off!"

"My, how exciting!" The demon giggles, flashing a fanged smile. He rolls on his stomach and reached a hand through the bars of the cage, stroking long thin fingers through Kuwabara's mussed hair, "Your friends are so amusing."

"Quit touching me!" Kuwabara yowls, flopping onto his back in an effort to get away from the demon's fingers.

Kuwabara's resistance only seemed to further amuse the demon, who shifted his full attention to the frustrated man. Sticking both arms in the cage, the demon tried to find purchase against Kuwabara's body, the weakened human swatting the searching hands with what must have been the strength of a child against an adult.

"Keep off me, creep show!" Kuwabara yowled, hissing as the demon caught his cheek between his thumb and index finger, giving it a little playful pinch.

"Guys! Can you hurry it up?! This dude's weird!" Kuwabara shouted, squawking as the demon moved from his cheek, to tweak his nose, "Cut it out!"

"Why don't you get your own human?" Hiei calls out as he rips his bloodied sword out of an enemy's stomach, and through another one's throat.

"Yes, that one is ours!" Kurama agrees, voice laced with deep irritation.

"I am not a pet!" Kuwabara shouts out, swearing as his amused captor traces a claw down the shell of his ear.

"Well, you're either our pet or his pet! You better pick one, Kuwabara!" Yusuke snaps, firing a shot-gun blast of energy into the final wave of enemies.

"Yeah, how about, I'm no one's pet? How about, I'm your friend and teammate-How about that!?" Kuwabara shouts kicking his feet against the top of the cage, the demon, still lounging atop his cage, laughing at his efforts.

"Really if I had time to take you all home with me, I would. All of you are so delightful," the red-skinned demon simpered, "But I'm not looking for a group of comedians. It's getting time for me to go."

Rolling off the cage, the demon landed gracefully and silently on the ground. A fresh wave of enemies crowded around Yusuke, Kurama, and Hiei, clearly redoubling their efforts to keep Kuwabara's friends at bay. With his palms pressed against carved-out runes in the cavern wall, the red-skinned demon muttered a series of strange words. He removed his hands as the runes slowly started to light up, and that light began to form what appeared to be a doorway. Smiling over his shoulder, the demon announced, "Well, I'll be going soon. Kuwabara, we have about three minutes before the gateway opens."

"Oh my God, this guy is taking me to his home to be his fucking house cat!" Kuwabara moaned, banging his face repeatedly against the bars in protest.

"Kazuma, don't do that. You're going to hurt your head, and we really might need you at your best!" Kurama called out to him, struggling against three hulking demons who were trying to press him back.

"Bye Kuwabara, it's not been a pleasure. But I did know you," Hiei calls out, grinning with his own amusement.

"This is fucking endless!" Yusuke shouted, not taking part in teasing Kuwabara. A bit of real panic was starting to set in at the sheer number of foes keeping him separated from his best friend.

Kuwabara took a breath to shout something else out at his team when the demon appears in front of the cage in a low squat. Quicker than he had before, his hand reached through the bars of the strange cage and caught Kuwabara by the throat. Kuwabara made a garbled choking sound and glared into the face of the enemy who'd caught him.

"B-Bastard!" Kuwabara eventually managed, defiance burning in his eyes.

"I'm not taking you to be a house cat," the demon purred, his forked tail lazily swishing behind him in steady sweeps. "I'm going to give you a much higher position than that. I'll be adding you my harem."

Kuwabara choked, trying to pull away from the hand that kept a steady grip on his throat, "Your... what?"

The demon's tail swished faster, "My harem. You're quite interesting... such a strong human with incredible spiritual awareness. And what a nice body too..." The demon reached his other hand through the cage and stroked a hand down the back of Kuwabara's head. He tugged affectionately at one of Kuwabara's curls, before his hand slid down his neck, over his collarbone, and down to the front of Kuwabara's shirt.

The demon grinned, and pulled, ripping Kuwabara's shirt away as easy as tissue, a started cry unwitting wringing out Kuwabara's throat. The demon smiled at Kuwabara's momentary outburst of terror, and that same smile only grew as Kuwabara forced his fear down in favor of presenting another hateful glare.

"You're just so cute. Acting like you're an equal with demons... hanging around them like you could ever be one of them," The demon teased, his hand trailing back up to Kuwabara's chest to trace a smattering of scars over his heart, "You are indeed powerful, and while that is admirable, you clearly need to be taught where you fall in the food chain. And since you're awfully strong, and your body is my type, I'll be more than happy enough to teach you. And if you behave, I promise you'll even come to enjoy it."

Gripping Kuwabara's hair hard, he pressed Kuwabara against the bars, Kuwabara struggling with futile effort to pull away. With a curse, Kuwabara's cheek was pressed into the bar of the cage, and the demon drew close, pressing his nose to Kuwabara's chin. He inhaled, long and loud, Kuwabara squirming uncomfortably as the demon took in his scent.

"Stop it!" Kuwabara shouted, hissing and grunting as his face was pressed into the space of the bars, growling as the demon tilted towards him. He kissed Kuwabara's chin, and trailed upwards, laughing a little as Kuwabara drew his own lips into his mouth. Underneath Kuwabara's panic, he became aware that the sounds of his friends battling, had stopped.

"Oh, that's so cute! Refusing to kiss me? Well, you won't have a say-"

The demon is cut off, as Yusuke Urameshi, buries his foot so hard and so far up his ass, that surely his tailbone has been turned to dust, and his asshole is ruptured. The demon is ripped away from the cage and sent flying, his claws leaving bleeding cuts against Kuwabara's neck and chest.

Kuwabara lets out an anxious, and relieved gasp as Kurama, Hiei, and Yusuke stand and take stock over their captured friend. Kuwabara looks back at them, shaken from the struggle he's just endured, and startled by the amount of viscera his comrades are coated with. Something had motivated them to make quick work of their enemies. Kuwabara's tattered state sends a ripple of hate and anger through their eyes, and Yusuke is the first to tear away from the group, shouting after the demon he'd kicked like a soccer ball.

"Hey, you red-assed piece of shit! I'm about to make good on that promise I said about your tail!"

"Kazuma, can you lie flat please?" Kurama asked, voice cold as he withdrew his whip, "I'll have you out of there in a moment."

Kuwabara, uncharacteristically quiet but too weary to force any words, drops flat down in the cage, his hands lacing over his head to protect it. He feels a wind whip over his body, and then hears the sound of the cage falling to pieces around him. He jumps as a hand grabs his arms, and looks up at Hiei, his expression unreadable as he starts to tug Kuwabara up and away from the ruined cage.

Kuwabara is shaky on his feet, adrenaline and fear mixing in an awful crash inside his body, so he does not pull away from Hiei's firm grip. Hiei is steady, firm, and surprisingly gentle, as he pulls Kuwabara from the remains, and guides him to sit down on a nearby rock. Kuwabara breathes a sigh of relief, as distance from the cage, seems to release whatever constraint it had on his Reiki. It's a comfort to have his power return to him.

Hiei looks at Kuwabara, taking in his torn shirt, and the seeping wounds the demon had left behind on him. Uncomfortable, Kuwabara presses the torn fabric against his chest, covering a part of himself up that he had never minded showing before. Kuwabara clears his throat and laughs a weak, "I'm fine."

Hiei's red eyes snap to Kuwabara's face, his expression stony. A line forms by his mouth, and his eyes narrow; a sign that he is clenching his jaw too tight. Hiei says nothing else but turns to where Yusuke is, currently beating the shit out of the red-skinned demon, who howls like a dying beast. Hiei withdraws his sword and disappears with that unmatched speed Kuwabara's spiritual awareness can't always keep track of.

Kurama looks over at where Yusuke and Hiei are handling their enemy, takes a steady breath, and kneels before Kuwabara, giving him his full attention, "Let me help with your wounds, alright?"

"It's not too bad. His claws got me when Urameshi kicked the fucker away!" Kuwabara says, his smile a little more sincere, even if his words wobble.

Kurama places gentle hands on Kuwabara's forearm, "The shirt is ruined... shall we use it for bandages? Will that be okay?"

He pierces Kuwabara with a kind green gaze, ready to do whatever Kuwabara needed.

Kuwabara placed a hand on Kurama's, pressing the hand against his arm. He means to answer, but he can't find them. Instead, he keeps ahold of Kurama's hand, using the fox's touch to ground him.

Kurama smiles understandingly, "We can wait a minute."

Kuwabara nods, and the pair sit in silence, watching as the red-skinned demon faces a terrible thrashing at the hands of Yusuke and Hiei. When a few minutes pass and the demon is howling apologies, and pleading for his torment to stop, Kuwabara lets the unsettled, terrified feeling fall away from him.

Kuwabara smiles at Kurama, "Knew you guys would get to me."

Kurama returns the grin, "Of course! You didn't have any doubts did you?"

Kuwabara rips the rest of his ruined shirt off, and passes it to Kurama, who immediately starts tearing strips for bandages. Kuwabara inhales and lets out one last shaky exhale. He smiles, wide and as bright as the sun, "Ah, maybe a little! But even if he made off with me, I knew you guys would come to get me."

"He wouldn't have gotten that far," Kurama says, seriously. A promise that had another meaning. A callback to a past, when Kuwabara had been taken from their sight. Kurama ties off the first set of bandages around Kuwabara's throat, "Never again will someone drag you off like that, understand?"

Kuwabara nods, swallowing past a bubble of unspoken fear. To shift the atmosphere, he complains, "If he hadn't used that weird cage on me, I woulda kicked his ass!"

"You always have an excuse for your own screw-ups, don't you?" Hiei sniffs, as he rejoins the group. He is bloody, though it is not his. He uses his cloak to clean his hands before pressing the back of his knuckles against Kuwabara's cheek. A silent check-in.

Kuwabara briefly presses his cheek against Hiei's hand, a signal that everything is alright. And then Hiei drops his hand, and Kuwabara lifts his arms so Kurama can wrap his chest, and it is like the moment between Hiei and Kuwabara never happened. The moment will go unspoken of.

"Seriously! I coulda taken him if he hadn't gotten the jump on me! I swear, all the demon bad guys do this to me, cuz they don't want their ass whooped by a human!" Kuwabara huffs, complaining loudly.

Yusuke joins them, dropping the head of the red-skinned demon and his tail, just behind a rock and out of Kuwabara's sight. His eyes are a little feral and glimmer with a speck of golden energy. He scans Kuwabara over and waits for Kurama to be done with the bandages, before he throws himself at Kuwabara, knocking the man flat on his back.

"Goddammit, Urameshi!" Kuwabara snaps, flat on his back with his best friend wrapped around him in a protective strange hold. Yusuke clearly wants to put Kuwabara into a headlock, or even dig an elbow into Kuwabara's ribs, but Yusuke is too aware of Kuwabara's injuries. So instead, Yusuke just drapes himself like a heavy blanket around Kuwabara.

"You idiot," Yusuke grumbles, his voice sulky, and worried, "Are you alright?"

A flat look of irritation crosses Kuwabara's face as he thinks of pointing out that his injuries had just been wrapped up before Yusuke sacked him to the ground. But he lets the irritation pass and drapes an arm around Yusuke's shoulders. Kurama and Hiei lean over the pair, taking up Kuwabara's field of vision, wearing vastly different expressions that somehow mean the same thing.

They were worried about him, and they care about him.

With knowledge of this group's care, Kuwabara will be just fine.

Kuwabara grins for the trio to see, "Yeah, I'm fine. Everything is good."

End

#kazi fanfic #sdf kuwabara week #tension #friendship #slight polycule #take as you like i enjoy it as friendship or shippy #hurt/comfort #Kuwabara #Yusuke #Kurama #Hiei #Yyh

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