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skepsiss · 7 months

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Modern problem, Modern solutions - pt4

This is the part where it hurts. I'm a sucker for miscommunication. Just teens being dumb and bad at talking. Having fun with what was pop-culture in 2015, god it made me feel old though.

TW: Underage drinking/drugs (weed), slight suggestion of sexual harassment (misstep that is corrected), suggested sexual language/intimacy.

Pt1 Pt2 Pt3 Pt4 Pt5

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Eddie's frustration with himself had grown over the course of the last few weeks; they were well into October and Halloween was fast approaching–his favourite holiday. Despite it being his favourite, he never did much on Halloween and hadn't since he was 13. It sort of sucked actually. He had moved to Hawkins when he was 12 to live with Wayne and he hadn't known anyone to go out trick-or-treating with at the time so he had awkwardly stayed at the trailer and only half dressed up to go to school that day. Previously, when he lived with his dad he hadn't lived anywhere populated enough to make trick-or-treating worth it or been allowed to go. So, he had always missed out on walking door to door in costume–he hadn't even been able to afford a costume, and putting in the effort to make something was sneered at or condemned as a waste of time and money. He had only gotten 1 good year of trick-or-treating in when he was 13 and then that was it. After that, well... having fun on Halloween was pretty dependent on whether or not you got invited to a party.

Beyond that, everything Halloween-related made him think about horror and then vampires and consequentially Steve. It was kind of frustrating actually. Everything he thought of led back to Steve and it was becoming harder and harder to be in his presence without acting like an idiot. Time spent together was still sparse and only really happened at Pride Club or when Steve popped in briefly at Hellfire. Still, every interaction was painted in anxiety for Eddie and at the end of the day he often flopped onto his bed and cringed at himself over what he had said or how he had acted. Steve was nice, but it was obvious that there was nothing deeper than that. He could see how Robin and Steve interacted and how different Steve was around people he actually considered his friends. He gave them a hard time, poked fun, joked, smiled, and scolded them like a sibling. He wasn't really like that at all with Eddie, or if he was it was short-lived and felt surface-level to Eddie. It was frustrating and Eddie wondered constantly why he was trying so hard. He just so badly wanted Steve to like him, as a friend or otherwise....

Otherwise.

Otherwise was the thing that was annoying Eddie more than anything. He was 17 and there was no way he was going to be able to ignore this forever: Steve was a handsome guy and he was friendly. Eddie was not immune to the effects a good-looking guy could have on him–a good-looking guy that was queer and talked to him, at that. So, he had let himself fantasize once or twice when he was home alone, blending the images of porn, celebrities, and people he found hot together to get relief. He had felt horribly awkward after the fact and that was only doubled when he had interacted with Steve the next day. He had been downright ashamed and couldn't even look him in the eye. Even now, he felt awkward when his brain reminded him that he'd done that–and then went and did it again half a week later. Shameful, really.

Eddie's tact to dealing with his awkwardness had been to act a bit aloof and put out when Steve and him had talked after that, masking his shame with quiet indifference. He still tried to be friendly, but he didn't want to tip Steve off to the fact that he found him attractive. Still, there was a small part of him that liked when Steve paid attention to him....

Eddie and everyone else in Hawkins–who was he? Jesus Christ.

That was why it had been surprising when Eddie had received a message from Steve on Instagram a few days leading up to Halloween. It had been simple, and though he and Steve had communicated sparingly, Eddie hadn't wanted to change his behaviour in order to use the app more often just because Steve was on it. The message had been simple and impossible to misinterpret.

Having a Halloween party Saturday, want to come?

Eddie had stared for a beat before the next message came through, not able to process all of that right away.

Robin said she'd come, costumes required.

Steve's texting was painfully bad: the message was riddled with vowel drops and squashed letters without a sign of punctuation in there; still, it was easy enough to get his meaning.

Where? Eddie messaged back, feeling the hairs stand up on the back of his neck as he realized what this meant. Was this a party-party? Or was it a hang-out-with-friends kind of party? What was he supposed to prepare for?

My place, Steve answered, 8 on Saturday. BYOB.

Oh, bring your own bottle, classy. So, it was probably a party-party. That meant there was likely to be a lot of people going–a lot of 16-year-olds. Well, at least then Eddie could stand out as a little cool for being an older guy who showed up... that or the lamest one there to be hanging out with people younger than him. Shit. He was overthinking it already.

I'll think about it, Eddie lied, already resigning himself to going as his heart beat out of his chest, nothing to wear.

What should he wear? How hard did you go for a costume party like this? He didn't want to be lame and not dress up at all, but if he went too hard that would make him a laughing-stock.

Girl problems, Steve messaged back, followed by a quick j/k. Eddie had been able to tell he was being sarcastic, but he vaguely appreciated the clarification. He forgot to reply either way.

Every girl there was going to be dressed as Harley Quinn–Eddie was sure–and everyone else was going to be some version of Captain America or Left-Shark. Eddie didn't want to be pedestrian about his costume choices, but if he did something too obscure–ugh. He was going to go insane if he thought too hard about it. He was already going insane, honestly.

Eventually, after much deliberation, Eddie decided to just go as a pirate. He had attempted to make something of a Captain Jack Sparrow costume but hadn't had access to the funds to buy anything new. His hair was long enough already though, and he opted not to knot it to make it more 'authentic' even if he had twisted yarn and tied trinkets to his hair like Jack had. White shirt, eyeliner, vest, belts, and simple black pants. It was passable and if people gave him a hard time he was just some pirate or whatever. He had quietly been bitter that he couldn't find a hat or a coat that would work.

Eddie had purposefully shown up late to Steve's party and had quietly stolen some of the beers Wayne kept in the fridge before going. It wasn't a secret, Wayne knew he took his alcohol sometimes, but they had never talked about it. Sometimes, quietly, Wayne had made a sideways attempt at reminding Eddie to be safe, but he had never really... put his foot down. Eddie appreciated that, and he silently recognized that he'd probably drink more if he was told not to.

Eddie arrived at Steve's place through his backyard: the Harrington property backed onto the forest that connected to the surrounding area of the trailer park. It was still a good 20-minute walk and it had been spooky as shit walking it in the dark, but it was easier than trekking out onto the road and taking an indirect path to get to Steve's. He knew where Steve lived–most people at school did–and Eddie had to admit that when he was younger he had scoffed openly at the Harrington house. It was ostentatious and too large for a family of three, but Eddie had reconsidered as of late. Sure, he could hate the house, but it wasn't like Steve chose it himself.

It had been impossible to mistake Steve's house from the back, too. Eddie had been able to hear the party before he broke the tree line and despite the party not being "out of control" the sound of teenage laughter and pop music were unmistakable.

Eddie slouched as he made his way up the lawn and tried not to make eye contact with anyone there. He was a good hour late, but that was to be expected. People here didn't seem that drunk yet at least, so Eddie walked to the house before just stepping in through one of the many open doors. He scanned the room for anyone he recognized, coming up empty. Most of the people here he knew were on the local sports teams Steve was a part of, some people Eddie himself only had a vague knowledge of. He couldn't see Steve or Robin anywhere–or anyone else that might have known that would have been invited to this. Great.

Eddie swallowed and mentally buckled in as he walked towards the kitchen to find a bottle opener. There were more than a few out of the counter and he helped himself as he cracked open one of his beers.

"Munson–" someone was saying as Eddie took his first sip of beer, the flavour neither here nor there for him.

Eddie turned, seeing some guy he was sure was part of the basketball team. Or he thought he was, whatever, he was dressed up in some kind of orange jumpsuit, probably meant to be a prisoner.

"You uh..." the guy asked, raising his hand to his lips and making a smoking gesture.

Eddie snorted, taking another drink from his beer. Cool, well, at least if he didn't know anyone here he could pass off his attendance as just the guy ready to sell weed.

It wasn't a secret that Eddie smoked and it wasn't exactly a secret that he smoked more than just cigarettes. A lot of the kids in the alternative program did and Eddie had spent a couple of years in those special classes. He had been bumped out to just needing a "teacher's aid" for grade 12, and he hadn't minded so much. A lot of the burnouts were worse to talk to than the jocks, only because if you pissed them off the grudge would be held for years. At least the jocks forgot you existed.

"Yeah," Eddie said, fishing in his pocket for his cigarette box. He had stashed some joints in there, not having actually prepared to sell tonight. He really didn't sell all that often, only when things were extra tight at home, and Wayne had been somewhat consistently working as of late.

"How much?" The guy was asking, his speech a little slurred. That was one thing too, jocks like this never knew what weed was worth.

"Thirty," Eddie said, plucking the joint out of the box and twirling it between his fingers.

"Thirty?" The guy asked incredulously, patting himself down for his wallet.

"Inflation," Eddie answered, taking another sip from his bottle, "supply and demand and all that."

He could tell his comment was going over this guy's head and he wasn't sure if it was the booze or just his brain.

"More people at the party. More people want it. It costs more," Eddie lied, only keen on keeping at least one of his pre-rolled joints for himself.

Jumpsuit nodded at him and fished money out of his pocket, only coming up with 23 dollars which Eddie shrugged and accepted if Jumpsuit was willing to get him a beer too. He wasn't sure if the guy was going to come back, but a surprise beer later tonight would be nice.

Eddie toted his own pack outside, still looking at the partygoers to see if he recognized anyone before eventually–finally–spotting Steve on the back patio. He must have missed him when he walked in, but he wasn't sure how. Steve sort of stuck out like a sore thumb. Everyone was dressed in these store-bought, weird costumes, and Steve–from the best Eddie could tell–was dressed like Robin Hood. And not some cartoony version of him either; he looked almost like the Cary Elwes version of Robin Hood: white billowy shirt, a jerkin, tights, and a quiver slung over his shoulder. Either Steve had shelled out to get the goods, or someone very enthusiastic had hooked him up. The other thing that stood out was Steve had a... goddamn bottle taped to his hand like some kind of frat bro. Actually, now that Eddie looked, a few guys had bottles taped to their hands.

Steve noticed him and Eddie tensed as Steve touched the guy's shoulder by him and then excused himself. He was smiling, and he didn't look all that drunk, but as he got closer Eddie could see that Steve straight up had a bottle of 'On the Rocks' taped to his hand. Vodka and Triple Sec? Oh, Steve was planning to go hard.

"Hey, you been here long?" Steve asked, grinning as he made his way over to Eddie.

"Uh, not really," Eddie replied, fishing in his pocket for his cigarettes as he pointedly stared at Steve's hand. He seemed to notice and then waggled it a bit at Eddie, laughing.

"You know, have to finish it before I'm allowed a different drink," he explained. Eddie knew how that worked, but he wasn't sure how he felt about the bottle being an expensive pre-mixed cocktail.

"Uh-huh..." Eddie offered as a reply, taking a swig from his own beer and sticking a smoke between his lips.

"It wasn't full when I started," Steve explained, which was... kind of funny to hear. It sounded like he was defending himself from seeming 'too intense' or something. Or, it wasn't defensive, more apologetic.

"The guys thought it would be funny because it's a pink cocktail," he explained further which made Eddie snort and pinch his brows in. Fun. Just some casual homophobia at their queer teammate. Wear the pink thing, and drink the cocktail.

"Charming," Eddie retorted, half stepping away but not in an attempt to block Steve out. The irony of the whole thing seemed to be a bit lost on Steve, or maybe he didn't care enough.

"Munson," someone said and Eddie looked to see Jumpsuit coming back with a beer in hand. It was just a Blue Ribbon, but whatever.

"Here," Jumpsuit offered and Eddie lifted his case of beer for the guy to put it in the empty slot.

"Cheers," Eddie offered, flicking his lighter on and lighting his cigarette as the stranger trotted off. He glanced at Steve who was looking at him for some kind of explanation before Eddie took a drag and then motioned for Steve to follow him. He wasn't going to be that kind of ass that smoke in a heavily trafficked area. He knew most people hated the smell.

"What was that?" Steve asked anyway as Eddie leaned back against the pool house a few meters away from the action.

"Owed me," Eddie half explained, not sure why the fact that Steve was being a frat boy was making him feel less awkward. Probably because Eddie thought the behaviour was cringey and pathetic, so it made him feel a bit superior for once.

"I sold him some weed and he didn't have enough so he owed me a beer," Eddie explained in full, putting his cigarette and beer in the same hand so he could drink and smoke.

Steve made a knowing sound, leaning back against the wall beside Eddie and drinking from his own bottle.

"You selling drugs to people at my party?" He asked and Eddie felt his blood run cold. Oh. Maybe that wasn't cool. He hadn't thought about how that could affect Steve.

He looked at Steve only to have that worry melt away as he saw the smile on his face.

"Why, you want some?" Eddie retorted, his pride bruised just a little for thinking Steve was serious.

Steve half laughed, still smiling like some goddamn movie star.

"Sure, how much?"

Eddie wasn't really sure what to say to that as he swallowed a mouthful of smoke and then started coughing incessantly.

"You okay?" Steve asked as Eddie ducked to the side, coughing and trying to drink a mouthful of beer to help settle his lungs.

"Sorry–" Eddie wheezed, "inhaled weird–" He wasn't sure how that explanation was going to save face, but he straightened up anyways, nursing the small coughs that came afterward.

"On the–on the house man," Eddie explained, coughing some more as he waved Steve off a bit, "for hosting or whatever. Unless you're buying for everyone–I can spare 1 joint."

"You sure?" Steve asked, sounding a bit concerned as he reached over and patted Eddie's shoulder.

Eddie shook his head and rolled his shoulder to get Steve's hand off, pulling away to cough a bit more. His lungs were settling, but he sounded like an idiot gagging on his own smoke.

"Just gimme a second," Eddie offered, hands full as he took a healthy swig of his beer, "they're in my pack. Just lemme smoke this."

Great, he was already making an idiot of himself and he'd been here for like 20 minutes.

"I can grab it," Steve offered, not even waiting for a reply as he half gestured towards Eddie's pocket. He had moved with his taped hand at first and then corrected, shamelessly turning his back to the party so he could stick his hand into Eddie's pocket.

Eddie felt his blood run cold at that, rendered speechless as Steve squared their shoulders up and just started fishing in his pocket for his pack of cigarettes. Eddie felt a bit helpless, standing there with a case of beer in one hand and his bottle and smoke in the other, arms out to the side as he just watched Steve's fingers disappear into his jeans pocket.

"Woah uh..." Eddie started, swallowing again as he felt Steve get hold of the top of the pack, "you can just... wait a second."

Steve was already pulling the smokes out by the time he finished talking and he moved back to Eddie's side to lean against the wall.

"It's not a big deal," Steve shrugged, seeming to think the issue was that he had 'inconvenienced himself' doing a favour for Eddie, and not sticking his goddamn hands in Eddie's pants. Maybe Steve was a bit more drunk than Eddie realized.

Eddie took a deep swig of his beer before dragging so hard on his cigarette that he almost finished it in one pull. He watched as Steve tried to open the carton one-handed, awkwardly trying to push the flap open with his thumb. He was chuckling at himself a bit which made Eddie laugh in return, his nerves on fire as he watched Steve.

"Shit–" he was muttering in good humour, before putting the carton in his mouth and opening it with his teeth, "there."

Eddie snorted, needing to hide his delight and horror with humour in order to cope with whatever was happening right now.

"You really want to get high, huh?" Eddie asked, ashing his cigarette and watching as Steve mouthed at the top of his smokes before managing to get one of the blunts between his lips.

"Now what, genius?" Eddie asked, indicating towards both of Steve's hands being full without the ability to light the damn thing.

Steve snorted again, looking around and at his hands as he held the joint between his lips. That earned a proper laugh from Eddie as he put his own cigarette to his lips.

"Here–" Steve slurred as he tried to keep the joint steady. Eddie had no idea what he was doing, but Steve turned towards him again and leaned in, pressing the end of the joint against Eddie's cigarette.

He couldn't be certain, but Eddie swore he could feel his fucking soul escape his body as Steve stayed tucked in close, puffing on the joint to try and get it to light. Eddie's mind was drawing a complete blank as he stood there, pulling a little harder on his smoke and making it ember. He was staring intently at Steve, heart racing, while Steve's attention was purely on the smoke as he tried to get it to light.

It felt like it took ages, but eventually, he did get the damn thing to light and he pulled away, puffing once and then glancing at Eddie. He snorted and then fumbled to stick the carton back in Eddie's front pocket.

"Success," he said as he took the joint out of his mouth and exhaled. Eddie was still staring at him despite his hand having dropped from his own mouth so he was no longer smoking his cigarette.

"Professional," Eddie said finally, forcing himself to look away from Steve. He wasn't sure what to say or think of that but it felt like he needed to dive into the goddamn pool to cool off.

"You think?" Steve asked, taking a swig from his own bottle as he stood there.

"No," Eddie replied, finishing off his own cigarette and flicking it onto the ground to crush with his foot.

"Hmm," Steve hummed, taking another hit, "grab that, huh? My folks will be pissed to find butts out here."

Eddie glanced at him, trying to figure out if he was serious or not before bending down to pick up his smoke.

"Sure, sorry," he replied, holding the butt kind of awkwardly and looking around for somewhere to toss it.

"There's a trash can inside," Steve offered, nodding his head towards the pool house they were leaning up against.

"Right," Eddie swallowed, shifting a bit awkwardly as he tried to decide what to do before stepping away and looking at the door beside him. Steve laughed and walked over, holding the blunt between his lips again and then opening the door for Eddie. He bowed a bit foolishly, putting on a 'show.'

Eddie nodded his thanks and stepped in, letting the door close behind him. He sighed heavily now that he was alone, looking at the little room and noting that it was just a bathroom. There was a little shower and then a sink and a toilet, nothing fancy. It was probably just to wash the chlorine off yourself before going inside.

Eddie looked at himself in the mirror and frowned, unsatisfied with how he looked. He could hear the party raging outside still and he felt weird about ditching now. Maybe he should just go and try and find Robin who was supposed to be here too. How she was surviving this scene he had no idea, but he was barely holding on.

Eddie chucked what remained of his smoke and chugged his beer before stepping back out into the yard. Steve's company had multiplied and he was leaning against the wall with some other guys now as they shared the joint. Eddie felt himself tense, standing there awkwardly for a beat before Steve looked at him and offered him the joint. He hesitated and then put his empty bottle down, needing something to calm his nerves. He offered it back after a long hit and Steve gestured to one of his friends to take it.

Everyone seemed nonplused by Eddie's presence and he wasn't sure how to feel about that. It at least left Eddie's hands-free as he reached for a beer out of his case and then held it for a beat too long. How was he supposed to get this opened one-handed?

"Here," one of the guys said and Eddie glanced up to see him reaching for his bottle. He wasn't really sure what to do but didn't resist as the guy took the bottle from him and then fished his keys out of his pocket. He popped the cap off and flicked it at the guy beside him who cursed at him lightly before handing the bottle back over to Eddie.

He thanked him quietly, and the conversation around him continued, no one really paying that much attention to him. He wasn't a disruption in the flow of the conversation either, but Eddie felt too anxious to follow along with what was being said.

Eventually, the joint made its way back around to him and Eddie accepted the hit happily before passing it off. He worked his way through his beer slowly, chugging it a bit at times, and starting to feel the effects of the alcohol. He had drunk both his beers pretty quickly, and at this rate, he was going to be more than a little loose in the next hour.

"--more?" Eddie heard and he refocused his attention as he finished off the last of his beer.

"Do you have more?" The guy repeated and Eddie took a beat to realize what he was being asked.

"Oh, yeah," Eddie replied, putting his empty bottle down and fishing for his carton of cigarettes, "thirty."

He got much the same answer from this guy as he had the last and Steve laughed at him before giving Eddie a wry look. He wasn't exactly sure what that was for, but he'd take it.

"I only have forty," the guy said, grumbling. Eddie motioned to take it from him anyway only to have him reel back.

"I'm not overpaying," he retorted and Eddie chuckled at that, shrugging as he put the carton away. There was a small chorus of complaints before Steve chimed in.

"Okay, calm down, Lord," he sighed, holding his hand up in a 'wait a moment' gesture before chugging what was left of his drink. One of the guys whooped at Steve finishing his bottle and Steve stuck his tongue out in the most basic-bitch-way possible before finishing his sentence.

"I've got some change, I'll break your 20. Just give me the 40, and I'll give you 10 in a sec," Steve explained, sticking his hand out.

There was a half-begrudging agreement, but honestly, everyone sort of knew that the last thing Steve Harrington needed to do was steal money from you. So it was agreed on, and Eddie handed the joint over before falling in behind Steve and walking back towards the house when he gestured for him to follow.

"Don't walk away with my thirty," Eddie half threatened, weaving his way through people after Steve.

"Chill out," Steve snorted, walking towards the stairs. Eddie hesitated and watched as Steve toed his shoes off and ducked under the tape that had been pulled across the stairs.

Obviously, he didn't want people going this way, and Eddie could tell why. The stairs were carpeted and a pristine white, a bunch of teens barfing or trekking dirt all over the carpet probably wasn't going to bode well.

Eddie followed suit awkwardly kicking his shoes off and trailing after Steve.

"Where are we going?" He asked, hearing the hint of anxiety in his own voice.

"My room," Steve explained without turning around, "what? You think I can fit a wallet in these pants?"

He flashed Eddie a smile and Eddie laughed a bit forced at the joke. Really, his attention fell directly to Steve's ass and the tights he was wearing. Yeah... not fitting a wallet in those, too tight. Skin tight. Lord....

Steve turned down the hall as they got to the top of the stairs; Eddie felt meek as he followed, watching as Steve opened one of the doors and stepped in. Eddie lingered before going in after Steve, taking in the space. It wasn't a very big room, and the walls were a boring off white without much personality anywhere. The furniture was sleek and modern, and it was tidy despite it looking lived in. The only hint of Steve Eddie could see in the space were the trophies and ribbons displayed on one of the bookshelves in the corner.

Eddie felt his skin crawl as he stood there, watching Steve go to his desk and struggle with his drawer.

"Shit–" he muttered, the bottle in his hand bumping up against the desk. He lifted his hand to his mouth, biting at the tape until Eddie eventually snorted and walked over. Really, despite being such a cool guy, Steve was a dork sometimes. Maybe he was just drunk, but there was something unquestionably dorky about him.

"Here," Eddie offered, putting his case of beer down on the desk and taking Steve's hand. He struggled for a moment, trying to find the end of the tape before starting to unravel him.

"You guys are idiots for doing this, what if you have to piss?" Eddie joked, the sound of the ripping tape filling the room.

"Didn't think about it," Steve admitted, not struggling at all as Eddie pulled the tape off, "probably would have been a disaster."

"Yeah," Eddie replied sarcastically, getting to the bottom layer of tape and looking at it stuck to Steve's skin, "did you at least shave?"

"Shave?" Steve asked, confused by the question. Eddie tisked, and lifted Steve's hand up for him to see.

"Your arm, dumbass. Taking this tape off is going to hurt like a bitch. It's going to stick to your arm hair," he explained, shaking Steve's arm a bit and earning a laugh for the action. Steve was pretty drunk it seemed, but Eddie hadn't been able to tell how much alcohol was in that bottle when he had started.

"Just be careful," Steve explained, shrugging as if it was no big deal.

"Oh, just be careful," Eddie repeated in a mocking tone as he started to pull the tape off slowly, trying not to make it hurt too much.

Steve cringed, but stayed still, eventually hissing and causing Eddie to click his tongue at him.

"Baby," Eddie teased, his focus on Steve's arm as he peeled the last of the adhesive off.

He sighed as he wadded the tape a bit and stuck it to the bottle Steve was still holding before looking up at him.

Eddie's stomach dropped as he looked up at Steve who was just... staring at him. He looked a little distant, but he wasn't unfocused, drunk but not blasted. He also looked incredibly dashing with his perfectly quaffed hair and his stupid poet's shirt open just enough at the top that Eddie could see a hint of chest hair.

Eddie swallowed and then turned his head, laughing awkwardly and hoping Steve was drunk enough not to remember this. Eddie opened his mouth to speak, ready to say something stupid to make the conversation continue. _There, you're free, so about that thirty dollars, or I gotta go, I think my house is on fire, anything to make the moment end.

"I uh," Steve started saying as he shifted and put the bottle down on the desk beside Eddie's beers, "I think I prefer babe."

Eddie froze, confusion washing over him as he turned back to look at Steve who shifted to place his hands on either side of the desk behind Eddie, effectively boxing him in. He stared in wild shock and awe as Steve leaned towards him, close enough to touch but still respectfully distant.

I think I prefer babe. The line bounced around in Eddie's head as he tried to figure out what it meant and what the hell was going on. His brain wasn't working and he was just staring at Steve as if he had sprung a second head.

"W-what?" Eddie asked, swallowing as he put his hands on the desk as well, leaning back a bit to increase the distance between himself and Steve. He could feel his butt pressing into the lip of the desk, nowhere really to go, but not panicking from being 'trapped.' No, that wasn't bothering him at all. What was bothering him was how close Steve was and the expression on his face. He had dropped that charming, soft smile, the open friendliness he seemed to display with everyone, and instead, there was a gentle determination there. Not intimidating, but fixated, as if he was being serious.

"Babe," Steve repeated, close enough that Eddie could smell the Triple Sec on his breath. Oh, Steve was very drunk. He had to think Eddie was someone else right now.

"Alright, Steve..." Eddie replied, locking his feelings away once more as he reached up to pat Steve's shoulder. "You're drunk, man."

Steve seemed to waver before dropping his head to the side and looking down. He didn't move his hands away from the desk, still keeping Eddie where he was.

"Shit..." he mumbled and Eddie smiled a bit sympathetically. He'd seen a bathroom walking in here, maybe he'd grab Steve some water and make him sit down.

"It's okay, big guy–" Eddie started to say, patting Steve's shoulder again, wanting to keep this friendly. But Steve let out a bark of a laugh that caught Eddie off guard. He jumped a bit, watching as Steve stared at the floor. He looked almost... sad.

Silence drew out between them and Eddie tried to breathe even to help his heart from pounding out of his chest. Steve was drunk. He was drunk and high and probably past his limit. At least they were already in his room so Eddie could get him to lie down.

Slowly Steve pulled back, removing his hand and wiping his palm over his face. He was still pointedly not looking at Eddie and that made Eddie feel off.

"You... okay?" Eddie asked, wondering if Steve was far gone enough that he needed to go get a bin for him to puke into.

"Great–" Steve replied, his tone a bit clipped. Eddie swallowed thickly at that, feeling his hackles raise a bit. He had no idea what kind of drunk Steve was, and he quietly hoped he wasn't a mean drunk. What if Steve ended up wanting to pick a fight or something? Well, Eddie would leave his shoes behind if he had to run out of here....

Eddie watched as Steve put his hands on his hips and turned away from him, just breathing for a moment as the filtered sound of music came in from the hallway. Maybe Eddie should just leave. Maybe he should go find one of Steve's friends and tell them to check up on him. This wasn't really Eddie's realm of expertise.

"Okay, well..." Eddie started, pushing away from the desk, moving slowly as he started towards the door, "I guess I'll just... head out."

Steve turned and looked at him then, looking pained before he frowned deeply at Eddie.

"No, it's okay. Sorry, I'm sorry, it's alright. You don't have to leave."

The words had been rushed and they sounded extremely apologetic, but Eddie had no clue what he was apologizing for. He was a bit taken aback actually, offering a weak smile in response.

"It's okay, man..." Eddie tried, glancing at his beers on the desk and wondering if he should grab them, "everyone gets drunk sometimes. It's not a big deal."

Steve huffed at that, chewing his bottom lip and looking away again.

"No, I'm... I shouldn't have done that, sorry," he repeated and Eddie stared at him, his own alcohol and weed-riddled brain trying to make head or tails of this conversation. He didn't say anything which only seemed to spur Steve on to speak more.

"Sorry, man–God, that was super fucking creepy, huh? Shit, uh, I'm really sorry. Like... uh, trapping you like that," he sounded properly bothered, his voice wavering a little which didn't make sense to Eddie. For trapping him? For trapping him where? At the party?

"What?" Eddie asked, speaking quietly, swallowing again. Who did Steve think he was right now? Why hadn't he left yet?

"I just thought..." Steve offered, laughing bitterly in a way that sent a chill down Eddie's spine. It sounded so forlorn... it sounded like Steve was impossibly disappointed.

What did Steve think? Who did he think Eddie was? Eddie wanted to know, he wanted to know for maybe no other reason than to torture himself. What lucky bastard had Steve mistaken him for?

"Nothing, it's fine," Steve finished and Eddie frowned. He had done the same thing when Eddie had asked him about his parents. He had started to say something and then shut down when he started to communicate real emotions. Closing off and acting as if he was a bother.

"It's not a problem," Eddie offered after a long silence, not sure why he was still there. He really should go. "You can say what you need to say."

That weird calm was coming over him again, replacing his anxiety as he watched Steve. He didn't exactly feel superior this time, but he was disconnected. Something about this was letting Eddie bury his feelings for Steve and his need for him to like him. Steve was upset and the very least Eddie could do was listen to him. To let his drunk emotions out even if they hurt to hear.

Steve wavered though, finally looking at him again with those sad eyes. He laughed bitterly, this one much quieter than that last.

"That's kind of mean... Eddie," Steve replied, smiling but the motion was obviously fake. He didn't know what Steve meant though. How was he being mean? Was it really such a bad thing to let him talk?

"I don't mean it... meanly," Eddie tried, at the very least wanting to leave here with Steve knowing he hadn't intended to be cruel.

"What then?" Steve asked, his tone a bit tighter, but nonetheless sad, "how else am I supposed to take it? Making me... say it. For your amusement or something?"

Eddie felt his hackles go up again, shame pouring into him at being called out like that. He had been curious and this was Steve's business, he had just been asking out of morbid curiosity. What a shit thing to do.

Eddie flushed deeply, wrapping his arms around his torso and turning away. He felt horribly on the spot all of a sudden, ashamed to have asked and even come here.

"Whatever, man," Eddie mumbled in reply, walking over to the desk and grabbing the case of beer, "can I at least get my thirty bucks?"

He wasn't looking at Steve as he kept his head down, walking close enough to him so he could stick his hand out towards Steve. There was another long pause and Eddie looked up at Steve, making sure he looked annoyed instead of embarrassed. But Steve was just staring at him, brows pinched in as if the loose gears in his head were turning.

"What?" Eddie asked, his temper short as the shame roiled in him. Was he being made fun of now for asking for his money? For thinking he was going to get paid? He was just getting ripped off now or what? Or was he being teased for caring about 30 bucks?

"Eddie," Steve started, turning properly to look at Eddie which made Eddie shrink away a bit, "what are we talking about?"

The question wasn't funny or even hinting at faux disbelief, there was something genuine there that threw Eddie off a bit. What were they talking about? How was he supposed to answer that? What did that mean?

"I-I don't know, man," Eddie offered, taking half a step back, feeling that emotional whiplash plow into him as confusion roiled with his frustration and shame. "You're drunk and rambling about... I don't fucking know."

Eddie felt the flush enter his cheeks this time, looking away from Steve as he dropped his hand. Maybe he should just cut his losses and miss out on the 30 bucks... even if 30 bucks wasn't anything to sniff at in the Munson household.

"What..." Steve tried, sounding completely off his game, verbally puzzling through what was going on, "I was... I was apologizing to you."

"Yeah... I get that," Eddie replied, frowning deeply, still not following.

"Because I... because I came on to you," Steve continued, making Eddie flush deeper. He felt so lost and so emotional. Maybe it was the booze or the weed or something, but Steve saying it like that as if he was going to make a big joke of it all felt horrible. Like he was about to say because I thought you were this chick I like or something like that. Make Eddie hear the humorous disappointment of discovering he wasn't someone else.

"Okay..." Eddie replied defensively, looking away again, "so what?"

"So what...." Steve repeated slowly, sounding more than a little confused, "so what?"

Eddie didn't say anything to that, feeling annoyed more than anything now. He should just leave.

"So–Eddie, I–... do you not want an apology? I'd like to try and stay friends–”

It was Eddie's turn this time to laugh bitterly, gripping his hands into fists.

"Friends? Are we friends?"

It had been a harsh response, but Eddie couldn't help it as he looked back at Steve with fierce determination. What the hell was he doing here? Why had he come to this party? He didn't fit into this world, or Steve's perfectly clean bedroom, his jock life, friend group, Pride Club–those weren't Eddie's spaces. Who were they kidding? They weren't friends. The only thing they had in common was that they were both guys that liked dick.

Still, his response had Steve looking like he had just been slapped, which gave Eddie a sense of accomplishment. It was an ugly, bitter side of him that felt bad to dwell in despite how it swelled his courage right now.

Steve obviously didn't know what to say to that, his brows pinching in again as he stood up straighter, looking much more defensive all of a sudden.

"I guess not..." he replied cooly which made Eddie's throat close up a bit. He had never seen Steve act this way before and it felt bad to be on the receiving end of it.

"Sorry for assuming."

Eddie swallowed, hurt shaking his anger loose as he cruelly felt tears starting to prick his eyes. Fuck–why was he a cryer? Why when he got emotional in any way–anger or otherwise–did his body make him cry?

Eddie hastily wiped at his cheeks, seeing his hands coming away black from the eyeliner. Fuck. There was no way he was hiding the fact that he was crying.

"Yeah, me too," Eddie replied bitterly, still wiping his cheeks. What was the fastest way out of here? The best way to get out of Steve's place without a dozen people seeing that he had been crying?

Suddenly, that didn't matter anymore as Eddie's flight instinct kicked in and he stormed out of Steve's room. If he just moved fast enough, maybe he'd be fine.

He hustled down Steve's stairs to the front door, scooping his boots up without putting them on and running into his front yard. His socks instantly got wet from the moisture in the grass, but that didn't stop Eddie as he all but sprinted down the block. There were people out in the streets still, but it was dark enough Eddie hoped they couldn't really tell who he was.

He managed to stop and pull his boots on, the wet fabric feeling disguising against his feet but better than staying here. He didn't bother taking the long way home, instead ducking towards someone's house and gracelessly climbing over their fence into their yard. One of his beer bottles slipped out of the case and smashed on the ground, causing a racket. But Eddie didn't stop to even curse at his luck, he was already jogging through this person's yard towards the tree line so he could disappear into the night. All he wanted was to crawl into his shit bed, in his shit trailer, and drown in his shit life to try and forget about Steve Harrington's shit party.

PT5

#me 🤝 the Duffer brothers breaking Steve's heart on Halloween #to the ppl who wanted Robin to intervene in my Tooth and Nail foc #I'm probably going to do that here instead #my_writing #my writing #steddie #eddie munson #steddie fic #steve harrington

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tearueful · 4 months

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I don't have access to discord to dump in the right server but I must dump my brain because I need it oUT OF MY HEAD

and anyway, it's Homelander drabble ideas because of course

-and man I want to write a Soulmate AU with Homelander because GOD DAMN THE ANGST POTENTIAL WOULD BE DELICIOUS because he's so broken and doesn't even consider himself human and if soul mates were a thing would he even think he'd have one? Because the guy keeps saying he doesn't even have a birthday or a mother so why would he have a soulmate? Bad products don't get soulmates. It hurts because he wants a human connecting so badly. He wants to be loved so badly and a soulmate would be a guarantee of that.

This idea doesn't have legs because I can't decide on HOW soulmates would work because it needs to be in a NOT OBVIOUS WHEN BY YOURSELF thing cause OBVIOULSY if it was a mark/red string then he'd KNOW and stop at NOTHING to find them. That or it's the most generic word if it's one of those AUs where you're marked by the first word you speak to one another or something...but even then I could see Homelander being THAT sort of asshole to demand Vought find his soulmate or SO FUCKING HELP HIM ASHLEY FUCKING FIND THEM.

Also, a drabble of friends gossiping somewhere in Vought tower and one is bragging that they shacked up with a D-list supe or something and the Reader says, "WELL, I'm dating Homelander!" and because Homelander is Homelander he hears this and just pops up and is like "Hi babe, what's up? Why don't you give me a kiss" because Homelander kisses are fun All smug as hell because hey, look at this idiot mud person offering themselves up as a new toy for me? Time to fuck with them. Hijinks ensue. Sexy, sexy hijinks. Will keep this in my pocket when I just NEED to write some PORN.

ALSO ALSO, because of @/arealtrashact's Homelander puppy art just- WHAT IF HE WAS THOUGH? (Look at this shit) WHAT if Homelander got cursed to be a puppy and he get's picked up by some kind soul (Someone in The Boys, a rando??) and taken care of? He HATES it because he's a DOG and no one know it's him and he's being treated like an ANIMAL and he's so full of RAGE about that but then he get's scratched behind the ears and that feels fantastic. He just melts because that man is TOUCH STARVED and now he can get casual intimacy with no fear of it being a tool to control him. No, he's just being petted because he's such a pretty boy. Dude would be WEAK and maybe being a dog isn't so bad? Fucker would learn some fucking humility for certain and a lot more humanity. Princess and the frog that shit to change him back in the most hilarious way possible, too. Fluff, fluff, fluff. He'd be a velcro dog 300%.

Also someone in the discord mentioned an established relationship drabble idea where Homelander is all huffy because he's being ignored for video games and I just- adgikagdjascvhJHGVFHGAc WANT TO WRITE THAT TOO because no one can convince me that Homelander doesn't eat pussy like a PRO. That man goes down like he's STARVING, fucking drinks up his partner like a fresh glass of milk. Good luck ever getting him off of you. He's so broken that sex is the only way he knows to show his love with a romantic partner, so he PUTS HIS WHOLE SOUL INTO DRAINING YOURS. He'd be such a little annoying shit, "Oh no, Sweetheart. Keep playing your little game. Don't mind me. Oh, did you just die? What a shame." Maybe fucking flashing the heat vision in a blatant warning, "Keep playing." Since you know, you dared to ignore him and now you're going to suffer for it in the best worst way possible.

#Homelander #drabble ideas #Shut up Ash

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villainworshiper · 2 years

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"Pretty Moon"

Jake Lockley/Reader

Tags: TransMasc reader, angst/comfort, light smut, explicit lenguage, fear of rejection.

–––––––––––– × –––––––––––

"Hasta luego amor, nos vemos pronto."

His voice, the way he spoke to you and that rough spanish accent were like beacons of light that drew you to him like a moth. You were not a person willing to have more contact than enough, but that night in that bar you found a man worth leaving your number with.

Even your friends were stunned, some falsely disappointed that you were letting yourself be so easily led by the man of few words you came across but something more intuitive led you to flirt so openly with him that he even seemed to be interested in your rapid advances and charisma.

Jake, a man with a rather intense and confident look about him didn't seem like the type who would be giving you a hundred and one problems to have something with you and maybe it was overconfidence in yourself because of how good you looked at the time but you thought you could trust him and caught his attention.

"Not to complain but...this man looks like a very honorable idiot."

"Hey I don't criticize who you take to bed." You rebutted one of your friends who was walking beside you.

"Look, we're sorry but he'll probably stop talking to you when he finds out about..you know."

"That I'm trans?"

"It's just a thought."

You hated to hear them but as angry as you were about those acidic comments it was a very likely option. Since testosterone had changed your physical appearance you felt a thousand times more confident to go out with your friends, wear whatever clothes you wanted and show that you were a man with a good spirit and style of dress. Even so, the only thing you avoided was to wear tight pants or clothes too close to the body, you didn't want to show at first sight some curves that you personally liked but didn't favor what according to the rest should be a "masculine figure". Your idea was not to push men away but to attract them since they were of interest to you and Jake had all the characteristics that dazzled your tastes completely. If there was any chance of driving him away it would be if he found out you weren't completely masculine. You gritted your teeth and let the lump in your throat pass, that night had ended well enough for intrusive thoughts to change your mood.

A week passed until the other Friday night where you agreed to meet again, at the same place at the same time. This time you would go alone, your friends wanted to go somewhere else for a change of scenery but you already had your plans, plus you didn't need to remember what they had said last time, you would go with confidence.

You wanted to start with the usual, a mojito or something fruity and then go for the stronger and more ethyl when an arm came around your hip. Your first instinct was to want to push the other believing it was some idiot who wanted to take advantage of your distraction but when you saw that unmistakable cap and those gloves that had caught your attention so much a smile formed on your face.

"Make it two, and a round of whiskey for later thanks."

"So you like to start with the strong stuff?"

"I'm not one to save the good stuff for last."

God if it were up to you you'd already be on your knees and asking absolutely no questions about anything he ordered but you had to calm down, your intensity was what mostly dominated these kinds of situations and they always ended pretty badly.

Between the two you started drinking and chatting a bit, thanks to the music being too loud you had the pleasure of having him murmuring in your ear, his cologne was a well balanced mix of an intense musk with the scent of cigarettes that tickled your intimacy. His leather jacket was well kept and he wore around his neck a black tie and a gold chain that peeked out from the back hidden between the collar of a white shirt that you wanted to unbutton with all your might.

You learned that he was a cab driver in NY and he worked a lot of night shifts except fridays and the rest of the weekend although if he got bored enough of going to bars or the people were too mediocre for him he would just take the odd job before turning off the work radio and letting a cassette tape play while he cruised the corners of the city to unwind. Every single thing he told was a very good sign, it definitely wasn't the alcohol you were already hooked on this man from the first moment you saw him and you weren't wrong, he was very interesting.

"My life is nowhere near as interesting as yours I warn you it probably makes you sleepy listening to me talk." You said after coming out of your mesmerizing trance state by the way he talked to you for the last half hour.

"Not at all, cariño...you tell me."

It was quite a distracting factor to have him so close and holding your waist that you tried to keep yourself in the same train of thought when talking to him but you didn't avoid moving closer than usual by placing your free hand on one of his shoulders and moving higher and higher towards the back of his neck. Jake noticed this and immediately moved closer to your ear again.

"You know what would be more interesting? To know what you're capable of with that mouth besides spouting sweet anecdotes."

You didn't need anything else, just his husky voice to finish overflowing the passion building up in your body. The last thing you remembered from those seconds was grabbing his tie to direct him to the bathroom, entering one of the cubicles and suddenly you were completely devouring his lips. There was nothing else around but his firm hands pressing your body against the cubicle making you gasp into his mouth eliciting a sly smile as he caught your lower lip between his whitish teeth. His kisses tasted like the whiskey you barely remembered drinking and the tobacco from a cigarette he may have smoked before entering the bar that night, kissing him made you feel like you knew him better even going so far as to taste a bit of coffee candy on the tip of his tongue, it was too much for you.

Jake kissed so deep and slow that he turned every one of your senses upside down making you float by the way he was now playing around with his tongue in and out of your month, probing the sides of your body and daring to go under your shirt. You had no problem with it since the surgery on your chest had been done some time ago and you barely had some small scars on the sides of each pectoral, the problem was when Jake with one of his hands while playing with your nipples making you squirm of pleasure wanted to go down with the other towards your pants, that was when instinctively out of panic you stopped his hand and moved your body a little away from his to the side, missing his heat still with red cheeks trying to recover the breath that this passionate man was stealing from you.

"What's the matter precioso? Are you worried you don't have protection? I have right here." He pointed to one of his pockets. You shook your head still not knowing how to tell him now that you had let yourself get caught up in the moment not wanting to ruin it and take away his interest.

It was difficult and even more so now as you kept your eyes on the ceiling and sighed in frustration for a moment before turning your eyes back to the confused man in front of you.

"I'm a trans man. I'm sorry I didn't say it sooner but if I'm not what you were looking for you can leave, I'm going to completely understand."

For a moment Jake was silent, perhaps the longest minute of your entire existence where you didn't dare look at his face in case you were met with a look of utter disgust, you had experience with situations like that but you never got used to the rejection of someone you were interested in. Suddenly you felt your chin being lifted by a gloved hand and your eyes landed on Jake's, still not knowing what the meaning of his stare was, you looked like you were about to cry.

"So...does that change anything?"

You could barely hold back a thin tear that rolled down one of your cheeks, you really expected to burst out in frustration but that question stopped your negative feelings in their tracks making you frown.

"As far as I'm concerned, you're a man and that won't change at all."

You were at a loss for words, you certainly didn't expect someone like Jake who was so far from being someone right being so gentle with you. All the intensity of the moment before had nothing to do at all with the Jake who was now taking both of your shaky hands to reaffirm his thoughts about you.

"Eres hermoso. You know what that means? You're beautiful. You shouldn't be afraid to tell someone those things."

"I always get rejected for it."

"And you'll go on by what idiots tell you?"

Jake was serious, the assurance on his face left a calmness in your chest that you let go a sigh relaxing muscles in your back that you didn't know were tight.

"Thank you Jake and I'm sorry, I completely ruined the moment."

"You think I can't turn things back on? Did you see me so uncapable?"

A choked laugh left your lips, still holding back the urge to cry now from reassurance knowing Jake wasn't like the rest of men you were unlucky to find. Don't judge a book by its cover, a phrase as old-fashioned as life itself that nevertheless perfectly described the man in front of you offering you small comfort with a hug in the public restroom of a bar at night.

"Shall we continue? I can take you home later."

"I'd rather go to yours. Early morning we can get a coffee, my treat."

"Sounds good, precioso."

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Feedback is pretty much appreciated! I also posted this on my Ao3 goldenheart_00 you can see my other works there, have a nice day/night/afternoon people <3

#moon knight #jake lockley #marvel #marc spector #steven grant #soft Jake Lockley hours yes sir #i love this man so much you can tell #trans masc #i crave validation #this man can either hug me or ruin me i dont care honestly #i just picture him like a very direct dude like fuck you and your insecurities #moon knight fanfic #male reader #we need more male reader moon knight fics and im here to contribute

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sword-and-lance · 1 year

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((yup I'm not entirely done and I wasn't joking about the Nereus/Lahabrea elaboration deserving its own post 8D

these two idiots (affectionate) I stg, like

it actually took a fair bit of time for them to even realize that oh yeah I do get the warm fuzzies about this person in THAT way don't I

and while Nereus was actually pretty willing to run with that, if a bit cautiously because this blowing up in his face like the other relationships he tried having would be kinda bad if he still had to work with the guy

Lahabrea was just. um. kind of scared actually even if he couldn't even admit that that's what it was to himself

I mean of course there's the whole specter of what if someone just uses me again hanging over him but also even if that wasn't the case--

after something that outright horrible happening to him, like

it leaves something awful and grievously wounded and angry in your chest that lashes out not just at other people but yourself, too, so he wasn't even convinced he deserved that chance because he (thought he had) fucked up so. BADLY. in his last relationship that he nearly got his own kid stuck into a fate possibly worse than death

despite supposedly being one of THE smartest people

and given that Ancient society was, um, clearly not good with mental health stuff, and given that he couldn't even actually talk about what happened for obvious reasons of having to admit to murdering someone, that all had to be terrifically isolating, too, on top of all the self-blame

and that nasty combination of bad feelings basically going at him 24/7 made him want to run from even a hint of a relationship because did he really deserve it after that and what if what if what if, and yet

he was also just as painfully lonely as Nereus was after all this time and (while he probably considered it selfish of him at first) he just...wanted just one single thing that was his, after sacrificing damn near everything of himself to the star, to the Convocation, to everyone and everything else until he truly had made himself a bit miserable as a human being

(He just liked to think he was above that sort of thing when L O L no you are not sir, and he nearly had a wholeass mental breakdown over it at one point even)

and Nereus was actually genuinely kind, if a bit prissy and vain outside of work, and even when Lahabrea's harder more jagged edges bit into him he never really blamed him for it--didn't like it, sure, no one likes being on the receiving end of someone being angry or distant or just plain difficult, but never got too pissed and seemed to realize it was coming from a place of immense hurt

(I mean the guy's a healer, it's generally pretty obvious to someone like that when someone's just lashing out in pain, rather than just being mean for the sake of being mean)

and he was just quite willing to sit there and listen when Lahabrea wasn't being too...mentally shut down about the whole thing to be functional about it, and yeah it took fucking AGES and slow, painstaking work to get the man to actually open up about anything, but

damn if Nereus didn't manage it anyway at some point

and Lahabrea got to know him better too and realized that yeah Nereus is in fact just Like That in some ways but also that he's a rather sweet man, especially towards the people he loves

(And he...struggles to actually show that same softness in return, after so damn much of his life was basically building layer after layer of personal armor until what was the armor and what was him started becoming less and less distinguishable)

(but even if he can't really bring himself to do too much in public without feeling like his everything is screaming at him to knock it off, he does try in private--even if he was never really shown how to do it, he is still willing to try, as awkward and hesitant as he can be about vulnerability inherent to intimacy)

(not just emotionally, though that's a major part of it, but also physically--I headcanon he has a bit of a scar across his neck from when Athena actually tried to kill him back, hence the weird under-robes that no one else seems to wear, and he is actually really self-conscious about it)

(In fact that caused a bit of a spat between them when he first revealed that mark on accident early on, because Nereus was a bit sensitive to wow do you even trust me to DO MY JOB at the time and wasn't happy that one of his closer professional cohorts was uh, not asking him to help. BUT ANYWAY--)

As for Nereus he was basically just extremely lonely and felt like he didn't entirely fit in, especially since every other person of the Fourteen were from the city at the time (least until Azem wandered in) and he was basically from the Beach Boonies--and while the settlement he was in was actually pretty chill with his propensity for indulgence, the city really very wasn't and it made him wonder more than once if he was actually a good fit for the post

or even still being in the city at all tbh, for a while there

...and then it turned out that part of that particular brand of impulsivity was mostly because he was just. very very alone and didn't like it, and so it got tempered a fair bit when he actually started to be with Lahabrea proper (and Lahabrea himself being very you stop that? helped lol); he felt like Lahabrea saw him for who he was rather than what, and accepted it and even loved it, and it really did chill him out a bit as a result

they really did just both want to be seen and heard and loved for who they were, rough edges and all, and even if it makes Nereus nervous and Lahabrea straight-up anxious to try and do that, it gets juuuuust slightly easier as time goes on and it's just

genuinely pretty healing for the both of them

and in a world that wouldn't sit with big complicated damaging feelings that might never go away, that really did just mean everything, to the both of them))

#; musing #nereus tag #6.2 spoilers #okay ngl it IS kinda funny that my aromantic ass fell SO damn hard for this ship #it's just. Lahabrea actually trying again. It means everything to me #especially when this is two people SEEING each other's hurts and going #I see it. I accept it. I love you.#just. how am I NOT supposed to go utterly feral for that

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noctumbra · 3 years

Text

𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒅𝒂𝒘𝒏 (𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒖𝒏)

summary ─ “not yet,” he whispered. “i jus’ wanna keep on kissin’ you.”

pairing ─ fuckboy!bucky barnes x reader

warnings ─ smut, +18, light fluff, angst, kissing, riding, crying, emotinal sex, shall we call it love making???, unprotected sex, nothing extreme in this one folks, this is the real goodbye sex believe

a/n ─ hi. i'm back with yet another fb bucky fic :) i feel like i fucked up a bit towards the end but.... lmao hope you like it! please leave a comment if you do! thank youuu <333

previous part ─ trilogy masterlist

It was the graduation day when he popped out from his hiding place.

It had been weeks since the last time you saw Bucky. You knew he dropped you off to your apartment, your roommate was kind enough to tell you because he had to ring the bell. You saw your call history on your phone and knew you called Bucky. You talked on the phone for almost forty minutes. You didn’t remember what you talked about, though, and that was what you’d like to ask him, but you haven’t seen him ever since that night.

So, when your doorbell rang as you were getting ready for the day, you didn’t expect to find him standing at your doorstep.

“Hi,” he whispered. He had a tired smile on his face; his eyes looked haunted and it seemed like he lost weight. You frowned.

“Hey,” you whispered back. Your eyes were seizing his body up and down, worry etched on your face. “Are you okay?” You couldn’t help but ask. He sniffed lightly and nodded. It was a hesitant nod, and you picked up on it immediately. “Bucky…” you said. He waved a dismissive hand on the air.

“It’s fine,” he murmured. “Couldn’t sleep lately, that’s it.” You frowned but didn’t say anything. Opening the door a little more, you invited him inside. He smiled as he stepped through the threshold. “I was, um, wondering how you’re doing since, uh, you know, that night.”

“Oh,” you breathed. “I’m fine.” You slowly moved your head back and forth. Chewing on your lip, you decided to out with it. “I saw that I called you that night from my call history,” you started. “I don’t remember what we talked about, though.” You watched Bucky as his face went from shocked to relieved to sad. It was an interesting transition, you thought. “I was hoping you could tell me, actually.”

He let out a laugh, it sounded forced. “Oh, um, it was nothing important, really,” he said, shrugging. “You talked about how you hated the taste of beer, and said that you can’t understand why people like vodka.” He smiled.

“For forty minutes?” You asked, eyebrows high on your forehead. He nodded. “Damn.” You would talk about those things, and if you did talk about them for forty minutes, then it was too normal for you to now remember anything because you must have been drunk as fuck. You chuckled. “Here I was worrying myself to sickness because I made a dumb out of myself.” Bucky chuckled lightly with you.

“No, you didn’t,” he said. “You were totally right.” You rolled your eyes.

“Sure, Barnes,” you grunted. Bucky chuckled again. A silence fell between you two, but it wasn’t disturbing. Instead, it was peaceful, and you smiled when you realized you somehow missed his presence being next to you.

“You’re gonna look beautiful,” Bucky said after a short while, and you made a questioning hum. He pointed at your dress for the graduation day. “It’s gonna look amazing on you.” You felt your cheeks burn as you smiled and ducked your head.

“Thanks,” you murmured. Bucky’s lips curled up at your reaction, his stomach suddenly flipping over. He silently cleared his throat. “I’ll, um,” you started, biting your lips for a second before you continued. “I’ll see you at the graduation?” You asked. Sniffing a little, Bucky nodded.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m gonna be there. I’m graduating, too, y’know,” he added. You let out a short chuckle, and he rolled his eyes, but both of you were joking. So, it didn’t take you too long to start laughing.

“It’s good to know that you were studying while parading around,” you murmured with a grin on your face. Bucky blushed. He might have been fucking around, yes, but he did study to his exams, thank you very much.

“Well, I gotta pay my loans somehow, right?” He sent you a wink and grinned back at you. You shook your head fondly.

You hated for making you fall in love with him, breaking your heart and using you, but you knew you were going to miss him like crazy after today. You didn’t know his plans after school─ actually, you didn’t know anything about him and his life. You didn’t know about his future plans, about his parents, siblings if he had any, or what he liked to do on his free time. He was a blank page; the only thing you knew, however, was what he liked in bed and how he acted when he was angry, and that was it. You frowned slightly.

“Hey─” You heard him and felt his large, warm hand holding your wrist gently. “Where did you go?” He asked, his voice soft and eyes concerned. It was a new look on him; not unwelcomed but unexpected. You never saw him worrying over you, or showing his emotions so openly to you before.

You chewed on your lip, debating on telling the truth. Looking at his beautiful, blue eyes, seeing the slight vulnerability in them, you said ‘fuck it’ to yourself in your mind. “I’m gonna miss you,” you blurted. “After today, I mean. I’m gonna miss seeing you around.”

His eyes changed. Their color looked brighter, they widened, and you saw some tears gathering in them. You felt your heart beating in your throat as you watched him shedding a tear.

“I’m gonna miss you, too,” he whispered. He sounded so broken, so raw, you wanted to hug him and tell him that you weren’t going to leave him. “I’m gonna miss hearing your bitching about random things,” he added. You snorted. You rolled your eyes and snorted again.

“You─” You started but stopped to huff some when you heard him snickering. “You idiot.” Bucky laughed. His whole face lightened up as he threw his head back and laughed. You should have felt insulted because he was laughing at you, but he looked so happy, and you just couldn’t. You huffed a bit more. “I’m not gonna miss your dumb ass, Barnes,” you muttered. He giggled.

“C’mon,” he said. “You love my dumb ass.” He froze, thinking he fucked up, but your soft chuckle relaxed him.

“It is a nice ass,” you murmured. Bucky watched a large grin spread on your face with sparkling eyes. He chuckled, a soft blush sitting high on his cheekbones. You just grinned at him cheekily. You were so beautiful, so gorgeous, Bucky couldn’t believe he got the chance to have you in his life in a fucked up but good way. He wished so badly that he could take all the shitty things he did to you, but he knew it was too late.

He cleared his throat. He should leave, he thought, but before he could reach for the door, he felt your hand closing around the collar of his t-shirt, and he was yanked forward.

Your lips collided; soft and slick ones against the chapped and slightly cold ones. Bucky gasped as he shivered and gave into your kiss. His lips were the cold ones, so he let you warm them. He let you stroke, kiss and lick them, and in return, he swallowed all the whimpers and breathy little moans you released into his mouth.

“Baby,” Bucky panted as he pulled back slightly. One of his hands found its place on your cheek, cradling it gently. His thumb was stroking your cheekbones, touching your eye and caressing your slick lips.

“Please,” you whispered. “I─ Please, James, I-I need you, please.” You looked into his eyes with tears blurring your vision. You heard the small hitch in his breath, watched him grimacing with pain and then, he leaned in for another kiss.

Moaning in unison, you grabbed at him. You felt his arms wrapping around your waist, and he pushed you against the wall, caging you against it with his body. You whimpered. You missed having his body this close you, missed feeling his lips teasing yours and missed letting him kiss you all over.

“Mmmm,” Bucky hummed deeply as he nibbled on your neck gently. He was being careful about leaving marks since there was a graduation you had to go through, but you didn’t care. He could give you hickeys, and you’d cover them up with make-up. The only thing you cared, however, was to have him inside of you. You’ve gone without him for too long.

“Bucky…” You whispered. You heard him hum again. Your hand grabbed his hair, pulling a little, you whined lowly. “Bucky…” He hummed louder. You huffed. His teeth were worrying a flesh in his mouth, sucking and licking over it. Every puff of his breath was making the small hairs on your body to rise, making you shudder violently in his arms. “Sir…” You finally whimpered, and Bucky bit you hard.

“Yeah, love?” He asked. “What is it?” He kissed the place he bit. “Tell me.” You wiggled and exposed your throat to him even more. Humming approvingly, he placed kisses all over. “Come on, baby, tell me what you want, hm?”

“Take me to bed, please,” you whispered. “I missed you, missed having you in me, please.” You looked at him through your lashes. His eyes went dark, pupils dilating, Bucky let out a soft growl.

“That so, baby?” He murmured. You nodded. Your eyes still had some tears in them, and you felt one of them running down. Bucky’s face crumpled immediately; expression softening, he leaned in to kiss the tear away. You only held onto him tighter. “A’right,” he whispered. “Hang on tight, lil’ koala.” You smiled at the name but did as he said.

He kept peppering kisses on your face as he walked towards your bedroom and was gentle when he laid you down on your bed. He was standing between your legs, elbows supporting his weight, when he leaned in for another kiss.

This one feels a bit different, you thought. Your eyes were closed and hands were in his hair. He kissed you gently, softly even. The way he cradled your cheek in his palm was loving, and you felt new tears stinging. It was chaste, this kiss. Neither of you included tongue in it; it was only lips, your hands on each other’s faces and the intimacy.

Slowly, both of you got rid of your clothes. First, it was your t-shirt on the ground with your bra and then his t-shirt joined them, and then came out your shorts and his jeans. He let your panties and his boxers on, though. When you made a questioning hum, Bucky just smiled.

“Not yet,” he whispered. “I jus’ wanna keep on kissin’ you,” he added. You hummed happily. As much as you wanted him in you, you were definitely okay with more kissing.

─

Bucky probably should have walked away after he saw that you were doing fine. Hell, maybe he shouldn’t have come to check up on you. He was going to see you at the graduation, he could have waited for couple more hours, but he was scared that he might have missed you during the chaos and never saw you again.

He had to say proper goodbye this time.

He didn’t think you’d start things, though. It was always him who started these sort of things; it always him who kissed you first, who begged you to give in and tried to convince you to take you to the bed. Roles were reversed, today. You took the first step.

Bucky should have stopped this after the kiss. He should have pulled back. He should have thanked you, murmured his goodbye and wished you success and love in life. Instead, he kept kissing you.

This would be the last time he’d be taking you, though, he thought. After that, you were off to God knows where. He wasn’t even sure if he’d ever see you again. So, he gave in.

Kissing you and feeling you against his body were the best feeling he had ever experienced in this world, he was sure of it. Having your hands pulling on his hair, nails digging into the muscles of his back and being able to swallow your moans and whimpers into his kiss were the things he would always remember. He was going to remember the way you whined his name so prettily, the way you moaned breathily when he made you come… Bucky was going to miss these, was probably going to yearn these, but he knew he had to say goodbye.

He was no good to you. He only hurt you, made you cry. He did not deserve you.

Bucky knew that he was never going to be worthy of your love. He was too much of an asshole for that. He was going to have a very little piece from it while he could, though.

“Bucky…” You breathed. Your eyes were closed, and your face was peaceful. Bucky smiled. Kissing your cheeks, he nipped on your jaw lightly.

“Yeah, baby?” He murmured. He felt you wiggle under him.

“Wanna feel you,” you whispered. “Please? We don’t have much time, I wanna feel you.” Bucky held back a sigh. You were right; you did not have much time, and Bucky suddenly wanted to ditch the graduation and stay here with you in your bed.

“Alright, love,” he whispered back. “Okay, sssh.”

His fingers found the hem of your panties, and Bucky was gentle as he stripped you free of them. He slid off his own boxers, briefly straightening up to chuck them on the ground, he grabbed his wallet to dig out a condom.

You grabbed his wrist, stopping him.

“No,” you whispered. “Can we not use it? I wanna feel you.” Bucky swallowed harshly. You wanting to feel him, wanting him to be bare in you… He was going to be pissed if this was one of those dreams.

“We don’t wanna have a baby, right now,” Bucky murmured, trying to joke a little. “We’re barely adults.” You smiled as you patted his cheeks. Bucky realized your smile looked sad. Blinking, he tried to ignore it.

“I started taking the pill again,” you said. “Just wanna feel you, come on.” Bucky nodded. He could feel his body shaking lightly; nervousness and excitement mixing with his lust. He nodded again. Pressing a kiss on your forehead, he dropped the wallet.

You pulled him into a kiss as Bucky grabbed his cock and lined it up. He greedily swallowed all the moans you released while he slid into your wetness smoothly.

“Fuck,” he moaned loudly.

The exquisite feeling of your wet and warm walls around his hard cock felt so fucking good that Bucky felt like he was about to come. It was such an intense feeling, Bucky suddenly hated the existence of the condoms. It served for an understandable reason, but it also deprived him from a sensation like this one.

“Hmm,” you mewled. “Sir, fuck, you feel so good,” you panted, then. Bucky grunted.

You should have done this before, Bucky thought, he should have taken you bare earlier even though he was sort of glad that this happened on your very last time.

“’ma move, love,” he whispered into your ear. “Can’t wait anymore.” You nodded. Your hands were holding onto his sides tightly, thighs wrapped around his waist as Bucky pulled out only to slowly slide back in.

He was going to drag your last time out as long as he could. He wanted this to last. He was not going to fuck you and be done with you, no. He did that enough in the past. He was going to feel you, now.

“Mmm, Bucky!” You whimpered. Your nails were digging in deep, but Bucky didn’t care. He wanted you to leave marks so that he could look at himself in the mirror later and touch them and cry. He let out a harsh breath as he slid in once again. “Yeah!” You cried out softly. “There, please.”

Bucky did as you said and kept hitting that spot of your repeatedly. His pace was still slow and deep, he was still trying to make it last and feel you deep in his presence. You didn’t seem to mind. In fact, you were quiet as you held onto him tightly. He could only hear your barely-audible whimpers and his name as a whisper when the thrust was particularly deep.

“You feel so good, baby,” Bucky whispered. His ears were howling, his brain was going fuzzy around the edges and he started to hear some sort of a white noise through the howling.

Bucky felt his eyes and nose burn. The feeling of your naked body against his, him being bare inside of your wetness and you holding onto him tightly… Bucky felt raw. He felt vulnerable as hell. Every place of his body where it was touching yours was on fire. It was like your skin was getting etched into his, marking him completely and forever, and Bucky was letting it happen.

“James,” you breathed silently. A soft sob ripped apart from him as he buried his face into your neck. You kissed his temple, petted his hair and stroked his back. You could hear his soft sobs, silent sniff and slight shaking of his shoulders. You kissed his temple again. You pushed him back, but he scrambled to hold you against him. “I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered. “I’m here. Just lay back, alright?” Bucky sniffed silently and did as you said.

He leaned back against the headboard, and you climbed onto his lap. Lowering yourself onto his cock again, you held his head against your chest, allowed him to hide there.

“Sssh,” you murmured softly. His hands were on your back, holding you tightly. “It’s okay. I’m here.” You hugged like that for a short while. His sobs slowly ebbed away, but you continued to stroke his hair.

“’m sorry,” he whispered, voice croaked. You shrugged. You grabbed his face in your palms and lifted his head up. His eyes were glowing even more with some redness in them, his nose was a bit puffy like his eyes, but it was the expression that hit you hard.

It was pain. Raw, unhidden pain. His eyes were earnest as they looked into yours. You felt the oxygen trapped in your throat when you made eye contact. You shivered. It felt like his eyes were looking into the very depth of your soul, seeing and understanding your true feelings towards him. It scared you.

So, you leaned in and kissed him as a distraction. Anything to get his eyes off of you.

Bucky whimpered. He wrapped his arms around your waist, hugging you, as he returned your kiss. His soft lips parted lightly and allowed your tongue inside. You licked into his mouth, stole another whimper and bit down on his bottom lip.

“Move,” he whispered. “Take what you want.” He gave you a chaste kiss. You exhaled shakily as you raised yourself on your knees a little only to fall back down. You moaned. Bucky peppered soft kisses on your neck. His hold on your waist was tight still, and you didn’t have the heart to tell him to ease off even though it made breathing just a tad harder.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and buried his face to your chest. Bucky, understanding what you were implying, took a nipple in his mouth and sucked and bit on it gently. The lazy suction and slow movements of your hips were driving you crazy. Everything felt so sharp, so deep and so scary but also so good, you felt like you were falling apart.

“Come,” Bucky whispered, pulling his mouth off your nipple. “Can feel you, come, baby.” You whined loud and long as you came on his cock. Your orgasm felt like it went for a century. Its hold took over you slowly, spread through your body from your belly like a wrecking ball, but you felt the impact into your bones. You cried out.

Whining, you kissed Bucky’s cheeks, lips and nose. “Come in me,” you panted silently. “Sir, Bucky, please, come in me. I need it─” You cut yourself off with a low moan. Bucky let out a sharp cry as his hips thrusted up into your still convulsing core. He was close. His balls were tight and full with his come. Your walls were trying to milk it away from him, he could fucking feel it.

“Sweetheart,” Bucky breathed and then moaned. You cooed at him.

“’m here. C’mon,” you continued to coo. “Come in me, Sir. Lemme feel you.”

Feeling his whole body going taut, Bucky buried a moan into the crook of your neck as he came inside of you. You sighed as Bucky let out small whimpers. You could feel his come coating your walls, and you hummed.

You stayed in that position for a while, cuddling and breathing each other in. His hands were holding you tight, fingers drawing various shapes on your body while you traced his tattoos and examined his piercings. Both of you came down from your high slowly.

You got up and rolled off of him.

“Yuck,” you whispered as you felt his come leaking out of you. Bucky smiled apologetically. “I wanted it,” you reminded him, giving him a kiss on the cheek. You walked towards the bathroom, quickly cleaning yourself. When you returned to your bedroom in a bathrobe, you saw him dressing up. “Leaving already?”

Bucky grimaced. “We only have two hours to get ready,” he murmured. His voice was soft and low. You found it soothing. “I can’t hang around too long, gotta shower and change.” You nodded. This time, it didn’t feel like an excuse to run away. Graduation was onto you both, it was understandable, but Bucky wasn’t running away.

“Okay,” you nodded. “Yeah, make sense.” Bucky nodded, too. He pulled his jeans on, fixed his t-shirt and hair and grabbed his wallet.

“I, uh,” he started, inclining his head towards the door. You let out a ‘yeah’. He smiled. You were at the door when he turned around, suddenly looking very serious.

“This was the last time I was taking you, you know that right?” Bucky asked. He wasn’t taunting, or bragging or anything. His voice was still soft and low, but he sounded like he was far away. “We’re graduating, and God knows what’s expecting us. We’re gonna have different lives and… we’re growing up.” Bucky sent you sad smile. “Maybe I shouldn’t have let you kiss me like that because I wanted to say goodbye properly, but I don’t regret it, so,” he shrugged. “Take care, will you?” With teary eyes, you looked at him. Bucky sighed. In one step, you were in his arms and hugging him tightly.

You understood what he meant. Whatever you had was for during college. The end has come; it was the graduation day, and that meant you had to leave this part of your college life behind. You didn’t want to, especially not when you were in love with him, but he was right. You were going to have different lives. You were adults for a couple years, but graduating meant that you were an official one now.

“It’s gonna be alright,” Bucky whispered and pulled back. “You’re gonna be okay and successful in your job. You’re tough like that.” He smiled, this time it was a genuine one. He leaned in and kissed your forehead. “Take care, Y/N.”

“Take care, Bucky,” you whispered. “You’re gonna be one hell of a teacher.” That pulled a startled laugh out of Bucky, and you grinned tearfully. “A badass one, too.” You eyed his tattoos. He shrugged.

“Yeah, I guess,” he murmured. “Gonna be that teacher, but it’s worth it.” Giving you a lopsided smirk, he watched you for a couple seconds. Then, he walked to the door, opening it. He looked at you before he walked out. He looked like he wanted to say something, but in the last second he decided against it. You ran to him, kissing his cheek and fixing his hair.

“Be gentle to yourself,” you murmured. Bucky nodded.

“I’ll try,” he whispered and then cleared his throat. “Um. Bye, Y/N.” You muttered a soft ‘bye’, and he was off. You closed the door and sank down. You let the tears wash your face and pain away.

─

As soon as Bucky was outside, he let out a sob. He wanted to tell you that he loved you, but he didn’t want to give you that hope and then crush it. He knew he would fuck up somehow if you were to try out a relationship. You didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve you.

Lifting his head up, looking at the sky, Bucky took a deep breath.

“Here comes the sun,” he whispered and turned on his heels.

His figure got lost in the sea of people as he walked down the street. He felt like he lost a piece of himself in them, too.

#bucky barnes x reader #fukcboy!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #fuckboy!bucky #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes blurbs #till dawn (here comes the sun)

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pillow-anime-talk · 3 years

Text

favorite types of kisses.

synopsis: Where do they love to be kissed? And where do you love to be kissed by them?

# tags: headcanons; current relationships; romance; fluff; kisses & PDA in general; sfw & suggestive

includes: gender neutral reader ft. ciel phantomhive, sebastian michaelis, grell sutcliff, undertaker, snake & lau {kuroshitsuji}

author’s note: huh, so i watched ‘kuroshitsuji’ and i’m a full-fledged simp now.

— CIEL

↘ Kisses on the CHEEKS; are Ciel’s favorites. They are kisses for literally any occasion – for good morning, for goodbye, for good luck at work. It’s a kiss that can be made while saying wishes, for a good night’s sleep or for a safe journey. When you peck Ciel on that part of his face, he feels appreciated and at peace. Your lips are extremely delicate and warm, perfectly harmonizing with the cool and porcelain skin of his whole body. Additionally, when you show him affection, he has the courage to smile slightly, not even worrying about Sebastian’s later jokes about his own, crimson blushes. Your kisses are soothing and the Young Lord can never get enough of them, so give them to him as often as possible.

↘ Kisses on the NOSE; it’s the kind of kiss Ciel gives you on many possible chances. They are cute and you’re cute to him too, so he usually kisses you on the nose when you’re happy or when something incredibly fantastic happened, for example, you won a game of chess with someone or you received something from your parents (or from your future husband) like tickets for spectacle you really wanted to go to. Pecks on the nose are short and precious, but incredibly memorable and heart-warming. Plus, they’re sometimes very playful, so you can experience that side of Ciel that no one else can see now or ever.

— SEBASTIAN

↘ Kisses on the HANDS; it’s the most intimate kiss for a demon, for a butler, who has no right to touch others, even with gloves on. That’s why when you hold them and kiss his wrists, knuckles, fingers, nails, he feels so sinless. He feels human and just plain good. However, the tall man still wonders, how can you voluntarily kiss his hands? After all, these are hands that have taken so many (often pure) lives. Which had seduced so many people before. Which are cold, rough and unhealthily pale. And yet you still do it, always with the same innocent smile on your charming face that makes Sebastian feel that he has some positive emotions inside him, in his black soul. You will definitely be his death one day.

↘ FOREHEAD kisses; it’s the most tender kiss you can get from another person, from a lover, from a partner, from a person who’s the whole life for one side of couple. Sebastian doesn’t kiss you often. He only does this on important occasions, such as when it’s your birthday or when it’s Christmas. However, when you get hurt or you are sick, I’m sure that you will feel his lips on your forehead more than once, not only so that the black-haired man can feel your body temperature, but most of all, to make you feel that he’s close to you and you can always rely on him, even if it’s some small, even stupid thing or request. After all, he’s not simply one hell of a butler, but also a simply one hell of a good and kind lover, if you want to.

— GRELL

↘ JAWLINE kisses; Grell is a hot lover. They love every kind of kiss, however, there is one particular that they would literally die for. Jawline kisses are one of the sexiest kisses lovers can give each other. When you kiss them on the jawbone, Grell feels like you’re standing on the verge of kissing their lips and biting them on the pretty neck. It’s exciting not knowing which way you’re going to go on. This pinch of uncertainty and surprise is something they adore. Kissing on the jawline is also quite sloppy, and that happens quite often in your relationship, because after all, you both get busy with your own activities, so you have to show your affection quickly to enjoy each other more afterwards. However, it’s definitely worth waiting for the next such kisses.

↘ Kisses on the BARE SHOULDER; with Grell you feel cherished and desirable. They appreciate you like nobody else, compliment you like nobody else, caress you like nobody else. Your figure is the best canvas you can imagine for Grell, and your arm is like the first touch of a paintbrush. You love being kissed on the shoulder for two reasons – they’re intimate and affectionate, and at the same time, they can lead to more. You have a strange soft point for the Grell’s smile, and their teeth are your greatest weakness. Do you know how beautiful your shoulder look when Grell kisses or bites you there? They’ll definitely take some photos and toss them between the pages of their notebook as little bookmarks.

— UNDERTAKER

↘ Kisses on the CHIN; he’s damn tall and likes to tease you so badly. He lives for fun, so watching you try to kiss him on the lips or on the face in general is his daily pleasure. You practically never reach where you want, so you end up kissing him on the chin, and at one point that kiss became a favorite for Undertaker. Why? Probably because it’s the kiss you ask for the most, the one you care about the most, the one you want to feel the most. You’re so adorable when you jump or stand on tiptoes to reach for a peck. And... don’t think that Undertaker will ever make things easier for you. You gotta try harder, shortie.

↘ Kisses on the LIPS; however, there are days when your boyfriend demands a kiss, when he wants intimacy that only you can give him. Therefore, he immediately kisses you on the mouth, without any prior warning. For example, when he’s sitting at his desk in his shop, he suddenly pulls you onto his thicc lap and gives you a few quick but warm kisses right on your lip-balm-tasting mouth. You love these moments because a kiss on the lips is the kiss closest to those in love, it’s a kiss reserved only for two people in a relationship. So, could there be anything better than showing affection in this way to a person who means so much to us? Definitely not.

— SNAKE

↘ Kisses on the NECK; he will never admit it, but he likes the closeness you give him. He appreciates the sense of safety you show him every day. When you kiss him on the neck, on the scales that once seemed to him to be a defect or on his Adam’s apple he additionally feels that you want him like a normal and simple person, that you feel love and desire for him. It’s lascivious to kiss someone’s neck, you know that? That’s why when you do that, Snake melts. Your kisses on the neck, light bites, skin sucking are something that he associates with what he likes the most (apart from you, naturally), and these are his beloved snakes. When you kiss him on the larynx, he knows he’s helpless and vulnerable to you, so keep doing it and show him a lot of affection, okay? The boy definitely deserves it.

↘ Kisses on the TEMPLE; Snake is a sweet guy. He’s a bit shy and usually communicates with you through his pets who always help him tell you about his own feelings. When Oscar, Emily or Wilde tell him to give you a kiss on the temple, who would he be if he hadn’t obeyed their silent commands? He kisses you on the temples because he reaches to them perfectly. He kisses you on the temple because he thinks it’s a kiss that suits you both perfectly. He kisses you there because it’s a kiss that means a wish to protect you. You are important to him, and he wants to be as close to you as possible. He want you to know that he’s right next to your figure and these kisses always informs you about his presence and intentions through. You loves it, really.

— LAU

↘ Kisses on the EYELIDS; his eyes are closed most of the time, which is why he likes to be cared with your kisses. I think his facial skin is really soft and smooth, so kissing his eyelids is pure pleasure for the two of you. Lau has a soft spot for your scent, so when you bend over to give him a peck on the eye, he smirks silly, inhaling your sweet perfume scent or your morning scent after a nice night in the soft sheets. Every time you kiss his eyelid, he may even be tempted to open his eyes to see you better. And he definitely don’t regret the moment when he does it, because your smile is the brightest thing within a radius of several kilometers.

↘ EAR kisses; sometimes he’s just an idiot. He knows this is one of your most sensitive places, very prone to tickling, to his nice breath, to his wet but hot tongue. He likes to tease you, but that doesn’t mean you don’t like being teased. Kisses on the ear are intimate and private, they are often surrounded with a few whispers or compliments, and you love to feel appreciated and praised by him. Lau is the perfect lover, sometimes funny, sometimes serious, but no matter what the situation, you can count on him to give you a long kiss on the earlobe in the next few minutes. Your reactions are his favorite, so don’t count that he would ever stop doing it.

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eyoricka · 3 years

Text

Fight - Pete Davidson

Requested: yes

Words: 2300

Trigger warnings: some curse words

Pete was not his regular self this past few days. The BPD was hitting hard probably because of stress. He was under pressure for his new special and his whole mental state was affected. You did everything you could to make him feel better, but it was tough. He booked more therapy sessions but on a short run it was not enough. You encouraged him to watch some movies he likes to relax, to express himself creatively and to do some exercises with you however it created more tension than everything. Small things were triggering some Pete’s negative reactions, it was very hard to keep up. You wanted to be there for him, showed that you cared. Sometimes it was just nearly impossible and that worried you. You were kind of used to those situations but this time it was a longer, rougher episode and it began to play with your own mental state.

You were in the kitchen baking some peanut butter brownie for the dessert when Pete entered in the room. He seemed tensed but smiled at you lazily. He approached you and kissed your temple while looking at what you were cooking. He frowned a bit but said nothing. You were surprised by this reaction, he usually loved this treat.

“You don’t like it anymore?”, you asked still taken aback. He rolled his eyes but remained silence which upset you. “You can use your words to answer, you know.”

“I am just wondering if you really know me and want the best for me” he replied growing annoyed.

“You what??!! Where does that come from?!!”

“You know I have Crohn and you know it can be worsened by nuts” he placed a huge emphasis on the you know. “But still you are baking this” he glanced at the brownie meanly, rose his hand towards it and for a second you thought he might throw it in the trash or on the floor. Instead, he put his hand on his face and sighed: “I really wondered why I still get home to be welcomed like that.”

Those words stung you, hard. You had taken of your time to bake this, it was just a small attention and you didn’t expect this reaction. You bit your lips refraining yourself to reply harshly, deep down believing that he didn’t think that, didn’t actually mean that.

“Well, I think you are stressed and angry and maybe you should go relax and we can discuss that later.” You kindly reply, putting a smile on your face.

“Now actually we should discuss that now, you are the one who says that when there is a problem, we have to discuss it, let’s do that.”

“Yeah, but when you are calm, ready to talk without your feelings interfering and risking saying things you don’t mean.”

“I am calm and ready to talk” he insisted visibly growing upset. You nodded and sighed frustratedly. There was no point arguing and you didn’t want to deal with him being angry for such a flutily, so you let him speak. You weren’t really listening carefully to what he was saying considering that he just needed to let some stuffs out because he was stressed. You were sure that he would apologize as soon as his crisis would be over so there was no point in taking to heartedly what he was saying. You didn’t want to ignore him, but it was easier that way, else you would probably be hurt by some words he pronounced without thinking. “Are you even listening to me?!!” he snapped at you while you were lost in your own thoughts. You winced trying to find a way to explain why you were not very into what he was saying without upsetting him even more.

“I…No I don’t really listen. But look Pete you are annoyed and half of the things you are saying, you will regret them later so…”

“You must be fucking kidding me!!! How can you know that I will regret them if you don’t even listen to them! You know what it proves, it proves that you don’t care about how I feel or why, that you don’t give a fuck about me!!”

“No, it is not like that!” you exclaimed trying to make your point.

“Stop trying to make yourself look like the nice guy while I am the bad one!!! Fuck… I can believe you, from all the people I thought I could trust you!”

“But you can” you pleaded.

“No!! Visibly I can’t but I should not be surprise you can’t even seem to remember or care about what I can eat or no so I guess listening to my feelings is too much to ask!!” You opened your mouth to reply to that but he continued: “Maybe if it is too much you should leave, you would probably be happier without me, without pretending you love me, care about me. And I would also be happier, I would finally find someone for me!!” he yelled certainly not even knowing what he was saying, the stress, the anger he was feeling for days were taking the best of him.

Even if you knew that, you still never expected such words. You were astonished to say the least. You couldn’t even answer to that, you were still processing those hurtful words. After few seconds at looking silently at each other, it hit you, what he just said, what he meant. It took every ounce of courage you had to not cry in front of him and simply nod, leave the room silently. You went to your share bedroom and grabbed a bag, put some clothes in it with your toiletry bag. You sent a quick text to a friend of yours asking her to sleep at her place for the night and she accepted without questioning you further. When you crossed the living room to leave the place, you saw that Pete was still standing there, looking at the window. He was back at you. “I will come back in few days to get back the rest of my stuff” you stated, and he didn’t turn around. You put everything in the car and drove to your friend’s place.

When Pete heard the sound of your car driving way, he realized. He realized what he had just say, what it implied, how badly he had screwed up. He wanted to run to you but it was too late, you were gone and he didn’t even know where, he haven’t even seen your face one last time. This broke him and tears streamed down his face. What an idiot. You were right. Of course it wasn’t the moment to talk, of course the anxiety he was feeling was taking the best of him, of course you had nothing to do with all of this. He had been so unfair to you, during all your relationship you had cared, you had listened to him, you had made your best to make him feel better, good, you always had been careful about his feeling, you had been supportive of his decisions and involved in everything he had tried to do. He never thanked you, not really and the only time you were not listening because you were sure that he was not thinking straight, he had been an asshole. He wanted to make it up, he needed to apologize, he wanted to fix things, but he ignored where to start. He was crushed by the idea that it was definitely over, that he would never see you smile at him, wear his shirt, cook for him, play video games with him, falling asleep in his arms while watching movies… All those precious, treasured moments you shared would vanish and he would never be able to relive them.

He tried to recompose himself and called you, but he never reached anything else than your voicemail. The sole sound of your voice humming asking to leave a message was enough to make him sob again. He fell asleep that night crying while you did the same some miles away. Those few miles felt like the abyss between you, an abyss that none of you would be able to cross that night to join the other.

When you woke up the following morning, you had a lump in your throat, you felt sick. Your friends had made you a delicious breakfast to cheer you up and you smiled kindly at her. She didn’t pry in your intimacy last night, she did what she could to make you happier, gave you space and let you sleep while insisting that she was there in case you needed. You were so grateful to have her. As you were eating, you received a text from Pete, you were not sure if you wanted to open it or not, if you were brave enough to read it but you couldn’t avoid it. You would have to read it at some point so there was no need to put it to another moment. You were a bit shook by his words, expecting a breakup text, a date to pick up your remaining stuff. You couldn’t help but smile a bit at your screen: “I am so dumb, I am surely the dumbest dude in all New York, and I am sorry, I can’t apologize enough for my behavior. But please give me one last chance to talk to you, if you don’t want to see me after that I can understand but I want to apologize to you in person, you deserve it, you are amazing and that is the least I could do after all the hurt I caused.” You texted back a brief ok, thanked again your friend and drove back to your place. Your fingers were drumming nervously against the steering wheel.

To your surprise the front door wasn’t locked and then you remembered that you had left in such a rush that you hadn’t even taken the keys. As you took off your shoes, you heard Pete made his way to the entrance and you took a seconds or two to look at him. Judging by the enormous bag under in eyes you guessed he hadn’t had much sleep last night, his eyes were glossy giving you a clue on how he spent the night crying. He looked miserable and you presume that you looked the same. He approached you slowly like he was scared that you would reject him. When he realized that you were not angry at him but rather hurt, he internally felt like dying. He had always sworn to make you happy, laugh, to protect you and in the end, he was the precise reason you were pained. He rose his hand to help you to take your coat off and you noticed that his hand was shaking.

“I am that intimidating?” you humored him, and he smiled sadly at you. You then proceed to follow him in the living room, as you sat on the couch, he paced around the room. Your eyes followed him closely as he was moving, chewing on his lips, and playing with his sweatshirt. He eventually locked his eyes with yours and decided to sit down in the armchair in front of you.

“I am sorry, I fucked up immensely, I don’t even have words to tell you how sorry I am. What I did, what I told you, it was unspeakable, ignominious, and if you can’t forgive now or never, I would get it but sincerely I am sorry. I can even begin describe how much I feel like the worse for making you feel like this, to have accused you of things you never did. You always had been there for me, always, even in the harder moments, you had always tried to make me feel better when I am low, you spent hours listening to me and my struggles and the only thing I do is to tell you that you don’t do enough. Fuck, I am so stupid. I should have listened to you. I know apologize are not enough, I realize how badly I hurt you, how from the start I was an ass. You baked me something I like and because I am feeling bad, I take all my anger at you, this is fucked up I am sorry. My mental health is not an excuse for what I did to you, to treat you like this it was awful of me. I felt anxious and attacked at work, so I attack you and this behavior, my behavior it can not lead us anywhere except to our downfall. You don’t have to forgive, you don’t have to say anything, I would get it you know, I am just sorry.”

You brushed away a tear on your cheek, you felt like crying and you couldn’t pinpoint why. Maybe because you were really hurt, or because this apology seemed so sincere or simply because you couldn’t stand to see him like this considering that he had realized how cruel he had been. You stood up and took his hands in yours, enjoying their warmth. You let him engulf you in his arms, intoxicated by his scent while he buried his head in the crook of your neck.

“What you said yesterday, it stung me hard, but I am willing to forgive you, Pete. But I don’t want to relive that again, not in few days, not in months, not in years. I want this to make us stronger, we can use this to advance, to be better, okay?” you whispered as you pressed your head against his chest. You felt him tighten his grip on you as he murmured back “okay”.

#pete davidson #pete davidson x reader #pete davidson imagine #snl fic #pete davidson fanfic #pete davidson oneshot

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libraryofsouls · 4 years

Text

TMI: lipstick stains - masked slasher edition

the inevitable dilemma happens: it’s on their mask, on them, on you. Masked slashers reactions when things get a little messy.

Asa Emory / The Collector

on his mask and clothes? eh, it happens.

while he does seem to be neater compared to the other slashers he’s not going to fuss over it too much.

his “work attire” is almost completely black anyways so it’s hardly noticable. on his regular clothes however he might get a little peeved if it keeps happening.

meaning: next time he’s going to hold you by the chin (or by the neck, if you’re into that) so you don’t get too excited.

on himself? he’s the one calling the shots here so he’s aware of it. doesn’t put too much thought into it and cleans up afterwards.

on you, however, he’s really into it.

the first time it happens he immediately realizes that he actually prefers you to look like you had just come out of a particularly steamy makeout session. (especially if he has other victims around.)

rating: 8/10. hot. nothing like matching pairs of smudged lip stains to let everybody know who you belong to.

Brahms Heelshire

this greedy lad’s always asking for kisses anyways so he’s already anticipating it.

if you cover his porcelain mask with kiss marks he’ll be over the moon! if you sneak around quietly enough, you might catch him admiring it in the mirror. no, he’s not going to clean up. not even if you ask!

on his clothes? who cares! more! more kisses! (let’s be real here - you’re probably the only one doing all the laundry anyways.)

on his actual person? who cares! again this is brahms, so it’s going to get messier real quick. love bites are more his thing but lipstick marks are good too. hell, have a load of both!

he is NOT going to leave you time to freshen up at all if the grocery boy happens to stop by. and yes, while the undignified fool will ogle at your slightly dishevled post-makeout state, that’s all he’s going to get.

INSTANT EGO BOOST. ..sooo how’d it go? did that idiot see how nicely he messed you up?

rating: 10/10. now he’s twice as horny. loves it on you. sees it as asserting his dominance against the grocery boy.

Bubba Sawyer / Leatherface

kisses for him? he’s excited! he would be SO happy to get kisses in general so he’s not going to mind all the lipstick.

kiss him some more! he loves it! like brahms, he’s likely not going to clean up his mask afterwards either. to him, it means you love him enough to show it off to everybody else. his heart would swell with pride.

if any of the sawyers nag at him he’ll begrudgingly clean up a bit. but surely he’ll feel better if you gave him some more?

either way this man is a sappy romantic so he’ll probably have a designated handkerchief for it. you know, to save all your kisses, and also to keep in his pocket for safe keeping. (if you happen to find out he’ll get a little embarrassed.)

on you? oh, you’re so cute with your wobbly lipstick! how silly! here, he’ll help you clean up and reapply.

rating: 12/10 for the kisses. not that into the “we just made out” look. doesn’t see the appeal in it, just knows he loves you a whole lot. honestly he’s just super thrilled about being a lovey dovey couple with you and making you look nice again after.

Jesse Cromeans / Chromeskull

on his mask? cute. if he’s in a playful mood he’ll even let you get more on there but only because he has a twisted sense of humour. imagine he’s out and about, slaughtering people in all his bloody glory - but with little kiss marks on his otherwise polished mask. he can be lovable too, see?

don’t expect him to keep it on there for long though. he’s a very well-kept man. on his clothes he’ll allow it if it’s accidental. but like asa, he won’t hesitate to hold you in place if it keeps happening.

if he happens to bring you to his workplace he’s a little less tolerant.

loves basking in your affections in private, but he’s just more strict around his cohorts. takes pride in dressing well and you, being the trophy spouse, would no doubt be decked out in designer and looking your best too. stain-free.

unless of course, an impromptu makeout session in his office occurs he might allow it. if it was your doing, he’ll rough you up at home afterwards.

rating: 5/10. thinks its cute but for his eyes only. his clothes and his mask are expensive, so it’s only endearing the first few times. otherwise it gets annoying.

Jason Voorhees

loves loves getting kisses. probably won’t notice it on his mask at first since he normally doesn’t like looking at himself. once he notices he’ll immediatelly get butterflies in his stomach. this man is just so weak for you, even remembering you kissing him gets him all warm and fuzzy.

he’ll admire it for a while before reluctantly wiping it off. he might not remember to wipe it off if there are intruders around. your safety is his first priority, after all.

if you happen to be at the stage where he’s comfortable kissing you unmasked he’ll get visibly flustered seeing you with your lipstick smudged.

immediately feels guilty for having dirty thoughts. what would his mother say?

like Bubba, he’ll tidy you up afterwards. he’s less confident in his makeup skills but he’s not going to leave you looking like that, especially when his mind is going to all sorts of unholy places.

starts picking you up and holding you a lot after this. (lowkey giving you access so he can get more kisses.)

rating: 7/10. thinks its hot but won’t admit it. impure thoughts BEGONE! only romantic christian kissing at his camp. wait.. you’re technically already married, right? ...right? now worries about pre-marital kissing.

Michael Myers

physical affection with michael = russian roulette. he could be indifferent to it, stalk around and continue doing business as usual with his mask covered in kiss marks.

or it could go VERY badly. catch him in a bad mood and you’ll be choked until you pass out.

michael likes being in control above all else so having little old you covering his face with kisses? on your own accord? HORRIBLE. choke and think about what you’ve done.

he is however, a big fan of seeing you look completely and utterly undone under his hands. the smudged lipstick is just a nice icing on top.

he’s a curious man, so he’s probably going to try to cover you with... other questionable things. the possibilities are endless!

if you somehow have unlocked unmasked!mikey he won’t care much for the lipstick on himself. wipes it with the back of his hand later on if he happens to remember.

rating: either -10/10 or 8/10 depending on his mood. kinda meh about just the lipstick stains, more into the bruises he can decorate you with or the reactions he can pull from you. you know what would look hot on you? your flirty co-worker’s blood.

Thomas Hewitt / Leatherface

hums appreciatively if you happen to smooch him all over after a long day. it might take him a while to notice the lipstick all over his face. luda mae might have to teasingly point it out to him - prompting a hurried exit. THE leatherface? embarrassed? you must be seeing things.

he has it set in his mind that he needs to be the intimidating chainsaw-wielding man that protects his family so as much as he loves you, he’s likely not going to keep your kisses on his face for long.

tommy absolutely adores you though, so expect him to nudge your head slightly with his as an indication to start covering him in kisses again.

if he sees you in a messy state with your lipstick smudged, the realization will hit him hard. he’ll be in awe. he made you like that. you allowed him to - and enjoyed it. once he snaps out of his daze he’s quick to escalate things.

afterwards this man is going to pamper you to the max. he’ll clean you up and cuddle you for as long as you let him.

rating: 100/10. loves the affection but gets shy around others. doesn’t ogle the marks, but seeing it on you gets his gears going.

Vincent Sinclair

very hesitant to let you anywhere near his face at first. eventually he’ll realize you’re trying to kiss him and not forcibly unmask him to pick at his appearance. (oh, dear trauma...)

while it takes him a long time to even allow it, and even longer with his mask off, he savours every bit of affection like it’s the last time.

on his mask he’ll notice right away and be blushy about it. he would keep it on for a while but would wipe it off eventually. he’s very particular about the upkeep of his mask since he considers it his actual face, after all.

on his actual face, he’d be more focused on the feeling of your lips on him more than anything else. feel free to go south if you want to hear him whine. he gets excited quickly.

he’d be super overwhelmed if you covered his face with kisses! and maybe a tad bit emotional. you love him this much? all of him? is this real? are you real? he isn’t dreaming?

doesn’t notice the lipstick until much later on and gets super embarrassed about it. might freak out about it secretly in the bathroom. if you happen to leave marks on him further down, he’ll be way into it.

on you, he’s going to try and fix it up afterwards. has his hand always been this shaky? don’t give him that look! excessive blushing.

rating: 9/10. affects him a great deal, but it’s the intimacy that has his heart doing flips. this man blushes a lot underneath the mask. takes him a while to be affectionate. he’s trying his best, damn it!

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brw · 2 years

Note

001 - Star Trek TOS

Favorite character

BONES he's everything to me actually. he's infested my mind like a virus he's SO funny he wants so badly to go apeshit but unfortunately he's in a polycule of fucking idiots and has to drug them both to get the chance to be a dumbass for ONCE. he's an idiot but he has to plan out his idiocy to make sure his two idiots don't get themselves killed while he's gone. zero business being that funny.

Least Favorite character

kirk when i come to the horrifying realisation that he is in fact the mouthpiece for the 60s white men that are writing him and is in fact played by william shatner aka episodes like miri and that one where he's a native american god bc what the fuck... i'll be watching having a good time and then oh fuck. thats shatner's face NOOOOO aside from that the random side characters that replace uhura or sulu or chekov when theyre not available who are you fucking imposters!!!

5 Favorite ships (canon or non-canon)

i barely have a singular ship the entire ship is well. a ship. theyre all dating each other the entire ship is polyamorous. my fave dynamics so far tho r; bones & spock obviously they r so funny. scotty & kirk i dont think any other combo on the enterprise is more enabling of each others specific brand of bullshit. uhura & everyone she is their BABYGIRL she is the most important person on that ship n everyone loves her as they should. the second favourite babygirl after the enterprise itself. scotty is the third fave btww. pavel & chekov they are like. daforge before there was daforge n kirk n that one klingon captain in the tribbles ep. why were they like that.

Character I find most attractive

bones. no i wont explain nor will i apologise. i'd fuck that old man.

Character I would marry

spock i would be great at being his girl husband. down to join the polycule also autistic i am logical for a human being and i like tea and big animals. not big on public intimacy and i dont make dumb jokes.

Character I would be best friends with

uhura or scotty. cannot elaborate but we would vibe.

a random thought

i dont think any TOS ship is fun monogamous. they need to be a horrificially large polycule or whats the point. they are the seattle polycule clickhole warned us about.

An unpopular opinion

kirk wasnt that feminist like yes for the time but he still very much so was a man written in the 60s by other men and idk i feel like painting him as 100% feminist w/ that one "a crewman" gif is disingenious. like definitely what abrhams did was a crime to make him even weirded! but idk people always want to focus on the best and its like grabbing so many women by the shoulders like that so often makes me very uncomfortable watching dhdfhfvhvf

My Canon OTP

aside from spirk which we all know is theres not an awful lot of big canon ships bc?? the writers r too misogynist i guess. i guess sarek n amanda they had no business being so cute. spock n that one woman in the sex pollen ep was honestly cute to me also. man just wants to do drugs and climb trees n she let him!

My Non-canon OTP

ah shit i dunno. again i really like what bones n spock going on they are so hilarious every time they interact onscreen. i liked the dynamic between uhura & scotty in the mirror mirror ep n obviously that one uhura & christine gifset... LADIES.

Most Badass Character

bones for him telling khan exactly where to cut his throat while the knife was to his neck. top 10 moments in cinematic history actually. uhura again when she did THAT to mirror sulu she's so fucking perfect she deserves the world i LOVE LOVE LOVE her.

Most Epic Villain

shatner's lack of acting skills.

Pairing I am not a fan of

tbh none. they all r either great or had massive potential or were just plain funny.

Character I feel the writers screwed up (in one way or another)

every woman. especially the non reoccuring ones. what was going on with a private little war.

Favourite Friendship

uhura & chekov... jim & bones..... sulu & chevok...... christine & bones.... they r all so good tbh.

Character I most identify with

scotty or spock. i have autism spectrum disorder.

Character I wish I could be

i hate the idea of living in space so none

ask game for fandoms, ships & characters.

#ask games} answers #star trek tos #sophie 📗#tysm for askingggg

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chalkrevelations · 3 years

Text

OK. Moving on, slowly but surely, Episode 2 of Word of Honor.

For anyone only just peeking inside my door, this is a re-watch, so there are SPOILERS not just for this ep, but possibly for the ENTIRE SHOW. Scroll away and come back later if you haven’t seen all 36.5 eps and want to watch it unspoiled.

So, the major thing that hit me during this episode: On re-watch, with context, Wen Kexing’s thirst is now super-complicated by the fact that he thinks he’s recognized the Siji Manor Swift Moving Steps™ from A-Xiang’s throwdown with Zhou Zishu at the end of Ep 1. He gets his confirmation in this ep when he goads ZZS into their first fight, in Chengling’s (badly green-screened) peach-blossom front yard. This complicates the stalking and the flirting, particularly the poetic references WKX uses here to talk about ZZS’s footwork, giving it a level that ZZS (along with the audience, back on our first time watching) simply doesn’t have the context to understand yet. (Well. ZZS not getting all the info that WKX has. That’s the start of a pattern. I mean, at this point, WKX certainly doesn’t owe this random guy a peek into his deepest traumas - EVEN THOUGH it would make things about 10000x less complicated, which is also part of the pattern - but I’m just sayin’. It sure is the start of a pattern.) So ZZS blows off WKX as a PUA asshole with an apparent kink for rough trade with appalling facial hair - just like all of us, as the audience, at this point, were beginning to watch open-mouthed at the speed and intensity of WKX’s thirst for some apparently random dude who he spotted tits out, drinking himself to death in the gutter. Don’t get me wrong, WKX is still thirsty as hell, and he was out to tap that even before he saw the Siji Manor Swift Moving Steps™, but now it’s all mixed up in memories of his shixiong that we won’t see, and ZZS won’t know about, for several more episodes. WKX’s still not sure this is the same guy, but it’s at least an associated guy. So our additional context from later episodes now makes it look like all the stalking isn’t just about having the hots for some rough trade who keeps flashing his collarbones, it’s also about regaining a kind of emotional intimacy that WKX hasn’t had for umpty years of trauma and abuse and killing his way up the ladder. This specific flavor of emotional intimacy isn’t something he can get from A-Xiang, even if she saves his heart – this random drunk dude is triggering some memories (that we won’t see for several more episodes) of feeling protected and cared for, unconditionally, and this guy is literally the only person left in the world who could/can make WKX remember those kinds of feelings. And WKX chases it like he’s starving, because he is. Because anyone in his position would be. Prince Jin will eventually do the same kind of thing to ZZS, grabbing onto him like a drowning man at the only thing he thinks will keep him afloat.

Also, WKX may have had slightly more home training than A-Xiang, but he’s had a lot more – and more recent - grooming by a psychopath. I remember reading somewhere that Zhou Ye talked about how A-Xiang seems slightly off, not quite right in the way she acts, at the beginning of the show, and this was a deliberate acting and directing choice because she was raised in the Ghost Valley, literally doesn’t know how to act right in normal society, and has to learn how as the show goes along. I feel like we see some of that with WKX, too, not just in the hard sell with ZZS, but also in some of his mannerisms and reactions – less so than when he’s playing it up in the Ghost Valley, but still noticeable. I think you can see this in the aftermath of the fight with the ghosts, when both WKX and A-Xiang are watching the reactions from and interactions among ZZS, Chengling and Boat Man, and they both seem kind of ... baffled? Occasionally taken aback? At normal reactions that the other three are having to events. When you set them together in that scene, it’s noticeable, particularly with the way A-Xiang keeps checking in with WKX as if to say, really? This is how humans act? It’s little things that on my first time watching, I initially wrote off to …. not necessarily bad acting, but to overacting, to Gong Jun maybe not being quite settled into WKX’s skin yet, that smoothed out as Gong Jun got more comfortable with the character and with playing off of Zhang Zhehan and seemed more ... natural. NOW, I wonder if this also was deliberate, if this is WKX not being quite settled into a human skin, which smooths out as he gets more comfortable in acting human again and in being around ZZS and Chengling. But meanwhile, he’s like a starving feral dog who’s spotted a piece of meat, and I chose every bit of that metaphor specifically, because psychologically and emotionally, that’s what’s going on, and it’s the way ZZS reacts to him, too.

ZZS is already gun-shy and touch-averse at this point (see the moment he jerks his hand out from under WKX’s hand at 31:20, while they’re both transferring energy to Boat Man) – he just wants to be left alone to die, is that so gd hard? - it’s clearly a trial for him to have to even be around this many nattering idiots. But I also have to think some of the instincts that made him so successful and kept him alive for so long in Tian Chuang have to be screaming at him, every time this rando approaches him, that something is not right about the guy. And even when you’re as suicidal as ZZS is right now, instinctive behavior is hard to overcome, and we see how quickly he steps back away from WKX, at 12:58, when WKX steps close enough to invade his personal bubble. At the same time, everything in WKX is screaming at him to plaster himself to this guy. And so, we set up the constant WKX push, ZZS retreat that we’ll get for several more episodes.

Other thoughts:

Chengling got the spirit I guess, but my lord. He gets beat down and gets his sword took about 5 times in the space of a minute and a half. Good thing his Xiang-jie is there. (Have mentioned how much I love A-Xiang? I just want to be sure everyone knows how much I love A-Xiang. Already. She is a fierce, feral, ray of brightness in every scene she’s in.) Here’s the thing, though – knowing what we know now, I can’t believe not a single one of the Ghosts says “WTF, Amethyst Fiend, why are you making this difficult for us to get the Glazed Armor your zhuren wants us to get our hands on?” They MUST recognize her. Or is this a set-up that the ghosts are in on, to make Chengling and whoever’s with him trust WKX and A-Xiang? But who knew Chengling would even escape? And that seems unnecessarily convoluted when they could just kill him and Boat Man. Did the plan get tweaked when ZZS showed up? If so, I can just imagine what these rank-and-file ghosts are thinking about what WKX wants this kid and this guy alive for, given they don’t know he’s trying to destroy the Ghost Valley – maybe that WKX’s going to do the same thing to Chengling that was done to him by the previous Ghost Valley Master. (Oh. Oh, although - here’s an AU thought – what if ZZS hadn’t turned up at just this particular moment? And what if WKX had intended to kill Chengling, too, along the rest of his family (I mean, presumably this IS what was supposed to happen)? But what if this Ghost Valley Master - whose heart has been fatally compromised by A-Xiang – sees this little soft-hearted soft-eyed dumbass, with his parents and everyone else he knows and loves dead and on fire around him? What if he does end up collecting another kid, at that point? THEN WHAT HAPPENS? Complicated by the fact that WKX’s got emotional skin in the game from jump, in this scenario, but Chengling knows up front about WKX’s part in the Mirror Lake massacre.)

OH MY GOD. I had to watch the same four seconds of footage about five times to try and figure out what’s going on, but there’s a point during the fight with the ghosts when ZZS is still having his Seven Nails Torment Moment, and Boat Man is busy dying, and Chengling is, well, Chengling has been beat down and had his sword took, and meanwhile A-Xiang is dealing with one of the ghosts, and another one’s coming up behind her, getting ready to brain her with his sword. And then at 29:01, it looks like he gets yoinked backward, and he goes crashing through a door, but then there is – I swear to god, y’all – a shot of two walnuts (remember those?) falling on the ground near him, and I guess the implication is that WKX, still hidden in the shadows, knocked him backward by throwing a couple of Walnuts of Death at him? Who knew Wolong’s Famous Nuts were crispy, delicious, and good for self-defense?

Oh, WKX. “Zhou Xu.” It’s so close, isn’t it? So close to “Zhou Zishu.”

Second ZZS/WKX physical fight happens over ZZS insisting that WKX leave Chengling tf alone and stop trying to see his injury. Well, there’s the beginning of another pattern.

#wen kexing #zhou zishu #gu xiang #zhang chengling #gong jun #zhou ye #word of honor #word of honor episode reax

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lixiehan · 3 years

Text

spin & sweat

alternative title: [15:01pm pt 2]

pairing: hyunjin x insert name (female)

description: things get a little tense between you and hyunjin when you watch him dance - based on the psycho performance

warnings: dom!hyunjin, sub!reader, dirty talk, public(ish) sex, mirror sex, mentions of orgasm denial, oral m receive & thigh riding, finger sucking

word count: 2k

a/n: this is technically part 2 of [15:01pm] (however it can be read as a stand alone fic) but it was so well received so i thought u guys might like a full version!

you gulped, watching his body spin and sweat to the music. this time his eyes were glued to your face and they were observing your eyes move. one wrong move and you were well aware you would be not be allowed to cum tonight, and you needed release more than anything right now.

“i’m going through withdrawals. you don't even have to do too much. you can turn me on with just a touch, baby”

you moaned at the lyrics, knowing he had picked this song on purpose. you both shared a playlist - one that was specifically used during sex - and this of course, happened to be one of your favourites. hyunjin, truly, was the sexiest person you had ever laid your eyes on and he was all yours.

after what felt like ten years, the song finally came to an end and the pool between your legs had grown into what felt like a river. the issue being, today of all days you chose not to wear underwear and with the colour of your leggings, you were displaying exactly how wet you were for him.

“look at you” he cooed, coming towards you and standing between your spread legs. “so wet for me and i haven’t touched you, baby girl”. the pet name made you moan, you adored feeling weak and small compared to him.

“I bet my pretty girl wants to be touched, doesn’t she?” he asked and you nodded frantically in response. your hands were still glued to your sides, too scared to move without permission, mainly incase he denied you of your sweet release. “words, y/n” he commanded.

“y-yes, please t-touch me” you spoke softly, with the arousal between your legs becoming too much to handle.

“that wasn't so hard was it, princess?” he asked, pushing your chin up so your eyes met his. “now, you’re gonna be a good girl and suck me off. only then will i allow you to come” he told you and you blinked at him with wide eyes.

“c-can i move my h-hands now?” you politely asked him, knowing your submissiveness would drive him up the wall.

like you suspected, he palmed himself at your submissive state, nodding at you in approval. you smiled excitedly, finally happy to get this show on the road. you licked your lips as you loosened the tie on his sweat pants, which subsequently made their way to his ankles. you rubbed his twitching length, earning the most beautiful moans from him. he tsked, “you don't get to tease me the way i tease you, sweetheart”.

you gulped and nodded, swiftly removing his boxers and focusing your eyes on his member in front of you. as much as he teased you for how turned on you were, it was obvious it affected him too. his tip was red and angry, desperate to be soothed by your mouth.

“fuck” he moaned as you latched your mouth around him, wasting no time in getting to work. there was no better feeling than knowing you made him feel this good. “such a good girl for me, aren't you?”. you moaned around him due to his choice of words, picking up your pace in impatience. you wanted to feel him inside of you and you wanted it quickly.

you looked up at him, your mouth glistening in spit as you were still at work. “fuck, don't look at me like that” he warned you, yet you continued, knowing how much he loved looking at your ‘innocent’ eyes.

he quickly pulled away and sat down next to you, tapping his lap in instruction for you to straddle him. you wasted no time, hopping on your favourite seat and awaiting for further instruction. his lips attached your exposed neck, sucking and biting your sensitive area in order to leave a pretty picture for everyone to see. the members were sure as hell going to tease you for this later.

“h-hyunjin” you gasped, grabbing onto his shoulders to prevent yourself from falling back. his hands made their way to your waist, repositioning you so your dripping heat was hovering over his thigh. you knew what he wanted and you were not going to complain.

you lowered yourself and began to move your hips, rubbing yourself on his thigh, which he was busy clenching and bouncing for your pleasure.

you gasped, already feeling the knot in your stomach tighten. due to his schedule, sometimes your sex life was a little slow. you understood, of course, but fuck it had been a while since you had him all to yourself like this.

“i want you make to make the prettiest mess all over me” he told you, finally detaching from your neck and rubbing his thumb on your cheek to soothe you.

although the stickiness in your leggings felt a little uncomfortable, hearing those words from hyunjin spurred you on enough to reach your high.

“g-gonna c-cum” you stuttered out, breathless from the work your hips were doing. he nodded, tightening his grip on your waist to help guide you. having his hand on your waist to control you turned you on beyond belief, making you gasp as you finally came .

he smirked, noting your breathless state and the wet stain that had made its way through your leggings onto his leg. “good girl” he cooed, soothing you as you came down from your high. you fell forward, cuddling into hyunjin’s neck. his hand followed you, rubbing comforting circles for a few seconds deciding you had had enough cool down time.

“up, baby” he told you, patting your leg, which was a small instruction to move. you somehow managed to stand up, legs shaking from your intense oragasm. it had definitely been a while. you felt his hands on your waist once again, this time spinning you around and guiding you towards the mirrors in front of you.

for the first time, you saw how truly destroyed you look. your hair was a mess, shirt hanging off your shoulder and begging to be ripped off and the wet patch - which wasn’t so much of a ‘patch’ anyone - was more than visible. you gulped, diverting your eyes away from your reflection, embarrassed beyond belief at the state you were in.

“look at yourself” he instructed, moving your head with the tight grip he now had on your jaw. his thumb slowly poked its way into your mouth, prodding it wide open before you began to suck. “pretty girl” he complimented, eye-fucking your reflection. “already wrecked and i’m yet to fuck you” he whispered into your ear, lightly biting the area afterwards.

“hands on the mirror, baby”, he ordered and of course you complied. you placed your legs slightly apart slowly bent forward, your hands supporting your vulnerable state. his hands explored your body, starting by finally pulling your pants down.

a string of arousal followed your leggings down to your knees, which was instantly noted by hyunjin. he groaned at the sight of your wet folds, clenching around absolutely nothing. “i’m gonna fuck you so good, baby” he told you, reassuring you that you were finally about to receive what your body needed so badly.

his tip danced around your entrance, only teasing for a few moments before entering. not feeling this type of intimacy had took its toll on both you, evident by both your loud groans. wasting no time at all, hyunjin’s pace picked up almost instantly. one hand placed firmly on your waist, guiding your hips exactly where he wanted them. the other gripped your hair tightly, forming a make-do ponytail. you moaned at the pain, but you knew his intention was to make you watch yourself fall apart.

your eyes flicked up to meet hyunjin’s, dark and hungry as he continued to thrust into you as if it was the very first time. “h-hyunjin” you moaned at the sight of him, equally as destroyed as you.

“that’s right baby, say my name” he growled at your words, loving the way his name rolled off your tongue like the sweetest song.

moaning his name again, your walls clenched around him, already reaching your high for the second time today. “f-fuck” he cried, his head now thrown back in pleasure. “cum around me, y/n”.

his words and tight grip on your hair, as well as the way his member pounded into you over and over again sent you into another euphoria. your vision was dizzy, your reflection in the mirror appeared blurry, both from your poor vision and condensation from your filthy actions. your walls clenched around him again and the knot in your stomach tightened once again as his pace rode extended the intense pleasure you were experiencing.

“that’s my good girl” he praised you, his pace now slower, careful not to overstimulate you too much. “on your knees, princess” he told you, well aware you were not going to be able to hold yourself for much longer.

doing as you were told, you carefully moved to your knees, turning around to be met with his member once again. you opened your mouth, this time not doing any of the work, as you waited patiently to receive his warm load, tongue dangling in desperation.

he pumped himself whilst looking at your pretty face, his pace now sloppy as he grew tired. “fuck” he groaned loudly, finally reaching his well-chased release.

your tongue lapped his cum, ensuring not to leave a single drop behind, swallowing as soon as it was all collected. “good girl” he praised, moving himself to the ground to meet with you.

“you good?” he chuckled, noting your destroyed appearance once again. you laughed back, knowing how much of an idiot you probably looked like. he nodded, running his hands through your now sweaty and tangled hair.

“better clean up” you slurred, incredibly tired but suddenly aware of the fact you had incredibly loud sex in the practice room of his company. he nodded, helping you off the group and to the place it all began - the sofa. you pushed your pants up and attempt to fix the situation that was your hair. although, the there was no saving that until you got your hands on a brush.

after he did most of the work, wiping down the mirrors and opening windows to finally deduce the condensation you had created he made his way to you once again.

“thanks” he smiled, the dominant version of hyunjin no longer in sight. “needed that” he chuckled, throwing his arm around your shoulder to pull you in for a side hug.

“me too” you laughed, placing a small kiss on his cheek.

“sorry for leaving you without sex for so long” he apologised nervously, his spare hand running through his long hair.

you shrugged, “m’okay. i suppose in the end it makes the sex more..sexy”. you laughed, struggling to find the word you actually wanted, your mind dazed from the recent situation. he giggled back in response.

“we better get going, told the guys i’d meet them back at the dorm for dinner” he told you, noticing the time displayed on the wall. you nodded, rubbing your stomach in realisation of how hungry your actions had made you.

“do you have a spare hoodie?” you asked as your fingers trailed the dark spots on your neck.

he nodded, making you sigh in relief. you were not in the mood to deal with the members teasing you for the whole night. “but, you’re not getting it”

“hyunjin!” you shouted, attempting to snatch the hoodie out of his hands. unfortunately, your boyfriend was all too aware of your height difference and dangled the hoodie above his head - well out of your reach.

“i want to see you blush as they tease you” he cooed, ushering you out of the room.

“fuck you” you snapped back, earning yourself a sharp slap on your ass

“attitude” he warned, secretly smirking at your reaction. “i’ll fuck you with the members next door if you continue”.

you gulped and thought, ‘maybe that wouldn’t be so bad, after all’

#stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids smut #stray kids fluff #hyunjin #hyunjin imagine #hyunjin smut #stray kids hyunjin #stray kids hyunjin smut #hyunjin x reader

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angelisverba · 4 years

Text

closer

in which y/n wants to be closer to her savior, mafialeader!h, and harry has never felt such intimacy

word count: 5.7k

pairing: y/n and mafialeader!h

warnings: descriptions of an abusive relationship, mentions of abuse, drugs, violence, and sex.

author’s note: you can all thank @floral-suits for this. (and yes, I did describe tattoo roulette harry :))

Y/n wasn’t exactly a virgin when she first met Harry, but she also hadn’t been exposed to the extreme pleasures a woman could experience at the hands of a man who cared. Cared enough to devote attention to the needs and wants of her body rather than just using her for his own pleasure.

Harry more or less rescued her from a toxic relationship for a lower-scale drug dealer (who was working for Harry at the time) and who never told her what he did for a living. Their entire relationship was built off of lies, and and power. Maxwell-- that was the scumbag’s name-- would always use strength to get his way, and it was getting to the point where he would use his physical advantage in the bedroom. Y/n was in a position where she was physically and mentally weak, and Harry caught note of that when he met her for the first time.

“This is my girlfriend, boss,” Maxwell had gripped her bicep and squeezed painfully as he shoved her forward to a confused Harry. He wasn’t quite sure why Maxwell was handling a woman in such aggressive ways, and why she looked so...scared.

He’d caught a whiff of what was going on the moment she flinched at the word ‘girlfriend’ and played as smoothly as possible to not make the situation worse for her once he left. But he knew when they made eye contact, and her eyes were slightly glazed over in fear, that she was calling out for help. “Lovely to meet you, what’s your name?” He said, voice notably softer than what he usually spoke.

The girl opened her mouth to speak, but Maxwell said, “Her name’s y/n. And she can leave now so she’s not bothering us.”

An uncharacteristic flicker of protectiveness flamed inside of him, and his face turned a stone-y reserve. “Tony. Paul.” The two men standing in the back of their small living room apartment stepped forward with arms crossed. They were easily three times y/n’s weight, with biceps the size of her head to vouch for it. “Take Maxwell outside and keep him out there until I call for him.”

Y/n didn’t have it in her to straighten or worry about what would happen to her then-boyfriend or where they would take her, but he did. Maxwell gulped and furrowed his eyebrows, a ‘what the fuck?’ expression taking over his face. What he didn’t have in him, though, was the ability to fight back against the all-mighty Harry Styles. He was only left to wonder what the kingpin could want with his girlfriend. Something that not even he knew clearly, only that there was something very, very wrong going on between his employee and this girl, and he couldn't stand the endangerment of women (it was one of the reasons why be spent millions of dollars buying sex-trafficked women whenever he could, and sending them to all-expenses paid facility for they would be checked and rehabilitated if they needed it.)

“Now, love,” he started, voice tender and body language comforting. He’d retreated to their loveseat, patting the seat next to him with a warm smile on his face, two dimples showing. He knew that was what she needed. A friendly, comforting face. He knew because he was sued to reading people to get what he wanted, or to catch them off-guard and do a large number on them. “What’s your name?”

Timidly, y/n walked over to his side and sat, a shaky breath leaving her before she mumbled, “Y/n.”

“What was that? You said?” Harry wanted so badly to reach out and caress her shoulder, but he knew it was better if she opened up on her own terms. The girl was cowering from him and he hadn’t done anything to her. It seemed as if she’d grown a fear for all men. Not just Maxwell.

“Y/n, yes. I’m sorry for mumbling. Maxwell says I shouldn't mumble...I’m sorry.” She plays with her fingers in her lap, the cuticle of her right thumb an angry red color on the verge of bleeding.

“It’s alright. Maxwell isn’t here right now, so you can do what you’d like.” Harry stated, chin in his palm as he observed her. She was (is) really pretty, with pouty lips and lashes that were wet with stressed-out tears. Distressed, but breathtakingly beautiful.

“But Maxwell will-” she stopped then, sure that what followed isn’t exactly something you tell your boyfriend's boss. Too much detail.

“Go on, you can finish your sentence.” He brought his hands down away from his mouth to clasp them at his lap, and that’s when she looked up to fully look at him.

His hair was shoulder length at the time, thick and rogue chocolate curls that framed his face and made him look even more so manly if that was even possible. It swirled at the top of his head, and fell to the right in fluffy swoops. He’d been wearing fitting, black slacks and a baby blue shirt what was open all the way to the start of his strong abdominal muscles, where y/n could see the tips of butterfly wings peeking out. Two swallows decorated the area underneath his collarbones, a silver cross necklace swinging gently between his pectoral muscles. Y/n remembers thinking-- even though her broken train of thought- that the blank ink looked so good against his tanned skin.

“No, uhm, I’m not sure I should.” Her eyes dropped from him to the armrest, where a black suit jacket rested. It was Harry’s. “Maxwell wouldn’t like it.

“Do you always listen to what Maxwell says?” Harry questioned, his word choice careful. He never had to speak to any of the women he rescued, so these were uncharted waters for him. He figured he better be very light on the accusations if he didn’t want her to get defensive.

“Y-yes, he’s my boyfriend. Actually, do you think you could bring him back into the room? I’m not sure he’ll like me being alone with you more than needed.” He’ll call me so many nasty names once you leave.

“Is that what you want y/n?”

“I-” She hadn’t been asked what she would like in so long, her opinion bypassed and unimportant. The fact that this man in close relation to her boyfriend hadn’t also belittled her like his other friends had was...well, it was enough to make her start crying.

She didn’t know what she wanted. She didn’t know what there could be to want. What there was past Maxwell, or what there would be with Maxwell. It was all a mess in her brain that hadn’t been used in so long. ‘Don’t wear that it makes you look ugly’ ‘She’ll have water’ ‘Doctor could she have the shot instead of pills?’

Harry knew his suspicions were correct when the first tear slipped past her eyelashes to taint her cheek. Only, he wasn’t sure where to go from there. He wasn’t sure if to touch her, or to give her space. He was fucking lost.

So he got up, went to their kitchen and reached for a glass that was in the drying rack. The soles of his boots hitting the wooden floor of Maxwell’s kitchen was the only thing heard along with y/n’s sniffles. Pressing the glass into the slot for water in the fridge, he cursed under his breath. What the fuck is he supposed to do?

He was out of time when he sat next to her and offered her the glass like an idiot saying, “I don’t want you to get dehydrated, love. Have some water and take a few deep breaths, alright? I wont hurt you.”

And he hadn’t. Harry was true to his word all through their relationship. Never once did he lay a hand on her when she didn’t want it, or harm her emotionally, mentally. Not from a negative mindset.

Y/n told him everything. To a certain extent. It was as if a corkscrew had been twisted into the bottle of her emotions and unplugged open with his intimate questions.

“Be honest with me y/n, does he hurt you?”

“Does he insult you?”

“Does he hit you?”

“Do you want to be here, right now, with him?”

“If you’re honest with me, if you really want it, I can take you away. I can help you build a new life, away from him. He won’t hurt you anymore.” Harry was holding her hands in his at this point, knees pointed towards her and shoulder slumped as he tried to get close to her. He could see he was doing good, she was holding eye contact for more than a second now.

“You can do that?” Her eyes widened, and her heart caught in her throat when he started to rub small, soothing circles into the juncture of her thumb and pointer finger.

Harry nodded, licking his lips,“of course I can. All you have to do is say the word. You can leave today. Right now. This instant. You just have to say it.”

“Okay.” She whispered, biting into her bottom from the nerves. Was she really going to leave Maxwell? Right now? With this man she’s never met? And although her gut and his words are telling her she can trust him, he could be anyone. He could do all sorts of things to her, but he looks, sounded, and felt sincere.

Anything was better than the prison that was Maxwell.

“Okay what, y/n?” Harry needed to know that she was fully on board. Verbal confirmation.

“I want to leave Maxwell. Today. Right now.” She was breathless when the words left her. And Harry was nodding with a proud smile on his face.

He barely knew this girl, but he could feel the way his heart was chipping away by her hands, plunging the pieces into her chest and taking out a matching piece of her own heart to fill the empty spot.

“Okay. If there’s anything you’d like to take with you before we leave you should take them with you now.” Harry stood, and grabbed the suit jacket on the couch next to him, lifting his arm in the air to put it on.

“No, there’s nothing I’d like to take. Maxwell picked everything. I don’t want it.” She shook her head and wrapped her arms around herself, preparing for what’s to come.

“Would you like to say anything to him or would you like me to do the talking?” He was still adjusting the suit, popping the collar and lifting his shoulders so everything settled nicely. He ran a hand through his hair, and shook it out. It was cute, y/n thought.

“No. I don’t want to speak to him. I’ve got nothing to say to him.” She shrugged.

“Very well. Let’s go.” He started walking towards the door, and when he sensed that something was wrong he turned to see that she was still seated on the couch, her lower lip trembling in a way that had become so familiar to him in the few moments they’d known each other. She was scared. “There’s no need to worry, love, my men will assure that he doesn’t lay a hand on you. I’ll be right by your side the whole time.” He sent her a comforting smile, and stretched out his hand for support, hoping that she’d grab onto it.

She did.

They walked out together, not even bothering to close the door behind them. Out in the slim hallway, Tony and Paul had Maxwell up against the wall, one standing on either side of him. When he saw that y/n and Harry were holding hands, he stood up in a frenzy, and Harry lifted a hand as a signal for him to still his motions.

He did.

“Maxwell, I’m not sorry to inform you that I will no longer be requiring your services. Tony will come by at the end of the month to pick up all the money owed as well as what you still have to dispense.” Maxwell opened his mouth to protest, and Harry raised his hand again, voice rising momentarily to speak over whatever it was he was going to say. “In addition, you’re a piece of shit. You don’t deserve a woman like y/n. Never seek her out again, or there will be consequences. Understood?”

Harry didn’t wait for a response, and Maxwell didn’t give one because his throat had gone dry. You don’t fuck with Harry Edward Styles.

“Paul, please ensure that Maxwell makes it into his apartment and doesn’t try to follow us. Tony, you come with us.”

“You got it, Harry.” Paul spoke, clapping a hand on Maxwell’s shoulder and shoving him into the apartment.

Harry, still holding her hand, y/n, still holding his hand, and Tony, knowing very well what would come out of this, walked out of the shitty apartment complex and into a blacked-out car. Inside, y/n questioned Harry a bit more about where she would go, if he would leave her, and how he could be so sure that Maxwell would stay away. It hadn’t clicked in her brain yet what her ex-boyfriend’s job was because she’d been so caught up in getting through that moment. If she had been paying attention, she’s sure she would have blushed at Harry coming to her defense.

Harry assured her that she was safe, and told her why.

“I am a drug dealer, sweetheart. The biggest one here in London. People know not to fuck with me. As long as you’re under my care, you’re safe as can be. And I told you in there that I would take care of you. I’m a man of my word.” He turned to face her, “You’ll be safe. I promise you that.”

From there, Harry took her to his house-- the kind with gates and men with ear pieces-- and told her to make herself at home. He had a few things to attend to before they could go a step further in their plan.

Strangely, the news of him being a drug dealer didn’t affect her as much as it should’ve a normal person.

The first thing she did was eat. She was starving, and Harry just so happened to have the best cooks in his home. Plate upon plate upon plate. She ate until she plopped down on his couch, fell asleep, and woke up to him taking her up to a guest room.

She nodded off again in his arms, and he’d pressed a sweet kiss on her forehead when he set her down.

After buying her clothes-- really fucking expensive ones-- Harry sat her down to talk to her about a rehabilitation center. One up in the mountains in Switzerland, where she’d be at peace with the company of sheep and silence. There were therapists on the site, ones she’d meet with everyday to talk through her trauma.

And the cold would encourage the bodily need to stay warm. To huddle close...together. The both of them.

And y/n agreed. With one condition.

“Would you be able to take me there?” She had asked meekly, fiddling with the threads of her brand new, 5,000 euro sweater.

“Of course. I’ll walk you through those doors myself and see that you’re comfortable if that’s what you’d like.” He laughed at the end of his sentence, pulling her hands away from the sweater and engulfing them in his large one. Y/n started at their union, and noticed he had a cross tattoo on his hand.

She thought this was funny, and laughed once through her nose. Tilting her head upwards so she might remark on it, she was frozen in the spot at the intense gaze that met her.

Vibrant, emerald green eyes saw her. They saw her. As a person. As a soul. As a woman. There was repressed hunger in them, and the added longing sprinkled static into their moment; intensity levels so high, y/n could only breathe out, “I’d like that.”

She’d like so many other things but she wasn’t sure the time was right.

* *

“Harry! It’s beautiful up here!” She was giggly with happiness.

Y/n hadn’t giggled in so long. She hadn’t been this happy so long.

On their plane ride to Switzerland, y/n had been too anxious to sleep, and Harry was more than willing to stay over and have a conversation with her.

He found that she was even more enchanting that he thought, telling innocent, forgiving stories of going to the petting zoo on a rainy day or how her friends broke her nose because they smashed it into a still-frozen ice-cream birthday cake. He found that he loved the way she’d blush when he brushed a hair away from her face. He found that he loved the way she would lean into his touch.

Y/n found that she really wanted Harry to kiss her. That she loved the way he spoke, in a slow, deep drawl like he was hand picking every word that came out of his mouth the moment before he had to speak. That she loved the way he looked at her, like she was important and interesting. That she loved when he would brush away a strand of hair from her face, or the warmth of his thigh pressed against hers.

Through a mix of knowingly and unknowingly, she let her walls down. She let him in, and she wanted him to want to be let in. It was absolutely crazy, the way she felt about him considering what she just escaped. Her brain was full of images that hadn’t been there in forever, illicit and heavy with him.

“Right? ‘M jealous of you. Wish I could stay up here, too.” He wished he could stay up here with her. With her company, getting to know her mind, body, and soul. He yearned for her and it’d been less than two weeks.

“That’s not a bad idea,” y/n mumbled to herself. She was a few steps ahead of Harry, standing at the front of the car and looking out into the place where the sheep roamed while he shut the door behind him.

“Come on, let’s go inside and get you settled.”

A woman greeted them at the door of the home-- although it was just shy of a mansion label-- that was a wood and brick mixture in structure. Several chimneys poked out of the roof, with smoke coming out of all of them.

The woman’s name was Matilda, she was a groundskeeper and had moved there shortly after her husband died when she was 40. She took Harry and y/n up to her room that faced the center of an indoor greenhouse in the middle of the house, and left them there for her to unpack after Harry said that he’d show y/n around himself.

He owned it after all, and had overseen it’s construction. He’d even helped with the births of some of the sheep.

“How long will I be staying here?” she asked him, looking over her shoulder as she placed a hanger in the closet.

“‘S long as you need, love.” He was taking things out of her suitcase, placing them on the bed for her to relocate. “Days, weeks, months, years. ‘S long as you need.”

“Really?” She squeaked, returning to the edge of the bed and picking up the neck item. A cream colored silk shirt that had a black ribbon around the neck.

“Mhm.” Harry picked up a blush tinted pair of trousers.

“And where will you be?”

Harry’s heart dropped to his stomach. It hadn’t occurred to him that she may rely on him for comfort, and it made him feel strangely warm inside when her tone of voice changed to an uninterested interest.

After his short, stunned silence, she mumbled again, “will you stay? At least for a few days?”

Harry cleared his throat. He was sure that if any of his men were to see him then, he’d lose all sense of authority, “Sure. I’d love to.” He was suddenly unsure of everything he used to be sure about. His reign, his title. It all left him when he was with her.

She whispered, “Thank you, Harry. For everything.” Y/n was clutching a shirt to her chest, eyes welling up with tears of gratuity.

At this, Harry felt his heart clench in his chest, stealing his breath at the sight of her. “C’mere, love.” His arms stretched out for an embrace, and she immediately ran into them. His arms stretched out for an embrace, and she immediately ran into them.

Eyes shut, she pressed into the juncture of his throat, and held her breath, tensing at the strong, male contact, she could feel ever flex of his arms as she wrapped them around her frame, ever rise and fall of his chest, and the fleeting brush of their thighs.

He ducked his head down to his mouth was pressed against the crown of her head and whispered, “y’don’t have to be scared anymore, y/n. You’re safe. I’ll never hurt you.”

She moved her head so she was looking up at him, and suddenly became aware of how close they were, the tips of their nose a hair away from each other. “I know. I know.” She tried to tell him. Tried to tell him with her eyes, looking down at his lips and then to his burning eyes. Kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me.

He knew immediately what she wanted, could see it in the gleam of her eyes. “S’this okay, love. Are you okay?”

“Yes. I’m okay. More than okay. And it’s because of you. Will you kiss me?” Her eyes were nearly shut with their dreamy haze. She felt happy, content, light, free. Because of him. Because of Harry. And she knew she was in full control here. It wasn’t because she felt she owed him anything. Y/n knew there was a connection between then, she could feel it every time he looked at her.

She knew because she looked at him the same way too.

With no response, Harry moved the final inch to her mouth, and reached the stars. Her lips were softer than they looked as they molded to follow his every movement. Languid and submissive and warm and her. And good God the noises their mouths made together. Quiet, suckling noises with every near-disconnection as they opened up to each other, y/n being the first to flick at his bottom lip with her sweet tongue.

“Baby, we have to stop or this is gonna get really fucking heated,” He murmured against her lips, his words with an intention to stop their actions, but the way her leaned into so they were closer to each other, they way his hands came up to her face to pull her closer to him, they way he didn’t bother to pause their kiss to speak, said otherwise. The front of his pants was embarrassingly tight, and a tension in his groin had begun to build, cock pulsing.

Y/n responded with the same vigor, her hands coming to clutch at the curls that brushed his shoulders before combing through his scalp and grasping the hair at the nape of his neck, “Please. Want it.”

Harry stopped then, opening his eyes and pulling her back to fully look at her face. Her lips were slick with spit and slightly swollen with a darker tint. “Y/n. Are you sure about this?”

Y/n shook her head so fast she could hear the ticking noise of her brain moving in the back of her head. She’d never been more sure of anything in her life. She was ready. She wanted what Harry had already begun to give her. “Yes. Please. Please. Haven’t felt this good in so long, I need it.”

A slow smile spread on Harry’s heart shaped lips, voice low and gravelly. “Pretty girl. Need me to make love to you? Make you feel good? S’what you need?” His thumb traced circled underneath her wild, bleary eyes, and he held back a grunt when she whimpered out her response, need heavy and abundant in her voice.

“Will you say I’m yours, Harry? I’d like to be yours. Will you have me?” She was babbling, lost in her senseless need, but her words held truth. She wanted him, and she wanted him to want her.

Harry cooed at her, his heart full, “I’ll take you, my love. I’ll take you only if you’ll take me.”

“Please.” She didn’t know what she was begging for anymore, all she could feel was the warmth of Harry’s body against hers. “I want you. I’ll take you. Hold me?”

“So polite. C’mere. ‘Gonna take you nice and slow, baby. Like you deserve,” his hands traveled to her waist, and he kept his grip tight as he walked them towards the bed, the back of her knees hitting first before she was lowered gently by Harry. His hold on her was ever-present as he saw her through, his lips placing open mouthed kissed underneath her jaw.

Y/n tilted her head back to grant him access to her throat, and soft, wet gasps left her mouth at the spikes of energy that went from his mouth, to her skin, and down to her pussy. Electrifying. Deadly.

“Gonna take this off, my love.” Harry’s hands tugged at the ends of her light blouse, and y/n nodded instantly, raising her hands above her head to help him get it off. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and the moment her breasts were exposed and Harry’s eyes fell on them, she bucked upwards, needing his touch, needing her damn pants off. “Easy, baby. I’ve got you, okay? Hey, look at me.”

Harry pinched her chin and shook her slightly to get her to open her eyes and look at him. She did, eyes wide and wild. “Need you to use your words in the bedroom, y/n. I want you on board with what I’m doing the entire time and I need to hear your voice in order to know that you’re with me. Got it?”

“Yes. I’m sorry.” He was still holding onto her chin, and her lips were slightly puckered as she spoke.

Harry shook his head, an awed smile on his cherry lips, “nuh-uh. None of that. You did nothing wrong. No more ‘I’m sorry’s. We’re here to love on each other, not to say sorry. We’ve done nothing wrong to each other. Now tell me something you’d like for me to do.”

“Need my pants off, please.” She mewled and bucked again, eyes shutting and head thrown back.

“So fuckin’ polite. A little gem you are.” Harry said to himself as he unbuttoned her pants, and patted her thigh so she could lift her hips.

He couldn't believe that someone had let her slip from his fingers. She was a goddamn wonder.

After he’d tugged her pants off her ankles, he leaned back into kiss her, hands on either side of her face and head with his hair trailing down on the side of his face, but she pushed him back with a pout on her lips. “Take your clothes off, too.”

Harry laughed, “so demanding.” And leaned back on his knees to take his shirt off, unbuttoning the last three buttons of his soft cream shirt so his silver cross necklace came free, swinging at his chest with the momentum.

Y/n marveled at the tattoos that decorated him, wondering if he could get any sexier than this, and upon seeing him unbutton his pants. She decided that yes, he could.

A thick bulge at the apex of his thigh strained against his black boxers, begging to spring up against his abdomen.

“You can say no, right now, and we’ll stop.” Harry murmured, rubbing a hand up her thigh and thumbing at the seams of her cotton panties. His voice was strained and filled with the same urgency that fueled her.

She shook her head, “no. I want this.” Y/n thrust her hips up against his hands, and Harry took that as a signal to take her panties off.

“Good.” He said, ripping away at her panties and surging forward for a heavy kiss, “‘cause I do, too, baby.”

“Make love to me, Harry,” she begged, her hands coming to feel at the strong muscles of his back, digging into where they dipped and this caused him to groan both at the feeling and at her words.

Swiftly, he took of his boxers, and his cock sprang free, an audible slapping sound heard when the swollen tip hit the skin underneath his belly button, and a hiss leaving him at the sudden, momentarily relief.

She looked down between them, and bucked again at the size and thickness of him, already yearning for the feeling of him inside her, stretching her. Her warm, slick, hole caught the tip of his cock, and she moaned at the contact. “Please. Please.”

Cursing under his breath, Harry took hold of himself and pressed into her, a slow heat beginning to encompass him and the intense pleasure coaxing him to continue, but a pained whimper stilling his movements.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” He panted, searching y/n’s eyes for meaning. She shook her head, her hands coming up to brush his hair back.

“Want you closer to me,” She whimpered, eyes watery. Her pert nipples brushed against Harry’s dewy chest, her hands traveled down his back again.

“Closer, baby? Want me to hold you? Is that it?” His brows furrowed, and he let go of his dick so he could rub at her sides.

She nodded, “Yes, please.”

She arched again, enough so Harry could sneak his arm around her back and hold her snug against his check, his silver necklace biting into their skin as it was squashed between them. His other arm was above her head, holding himself up so his weight wouldn’t smother her.

Her legs came to sneak around his waist, and the movement titled her hips up the remaining inches of Harry’s dick, filling and stretching her to the brim. Moaning and bucking up as best she could, her nails dug into his back, urgently. Ardently

“Fuck me. So good, baby. You’re so good.” Harry pulled his hips back and thrusted, the both of them panting at the sensation of being warm, and tight, and full, and fucking hell love.

“More. Harry more, please.” Her words were hot at his ear, and her head fell back against the pillow when he listened, thrusting again and again and again into her. His fingers dug into her back, and scrunched the fabric of the sheets, veins seeping through his skin from the strain.

“Keep squeezing me like that and I won’t last, my love. Need this to last,” The space between their chests grew damp, and y/n was in a frenzy as her orgasm built in her tummy. The pressure rising to a bubbly froth at the brim, one soda-can shake away from an explosion.

“I can’t. Can’t. Y-you feel so good,” She swallowed a thick gulp, and let out a strained moan, the feeling of being unable to close so painfully euphoric. Harry was hitting all the right places and all the right times. And it felt so good to be warm and held, his arms a constant restraint on her, not letting her go even though a burn was developing on the arm that was holding her up. He wouldn’t let her go. He wouldn’t because she asked him to, and because he wanted to.

Harry hadn’t felt the importance of such an embrace until then. It was affecting him just as much as it was fulfilling her. Every place their skin touched, he felt, ever moan and shudder, he heard. Ever gasp, every whisper. And never had it felt so good to give someone what they wanted before. Even if it was just as simple as being held. His heart was going to explode. He was going to die.

“Baby. My love, oh sweetheart you’re amazing. God, I’m gonna cum, my darling. Does it feel as good for you as it feel for me? Hmm? Got me unraveling at the goddamn seams, fuck!”

He dipped his head into her throat and licked her, savagely searching for the taste of her skin as his back curved with the force of his hips.

“I’m there. I’m there, please, lemme, lemme, please-,”

“Let go, my love. I’ve got you.” He kissed her roughly, and held himself snug at her core for longer periods of times every time he thrusted, moving his hips in a circle. He was so close, that y/n could feel his movements on her clit, her sensitive swollen button being stimulated throwing her over the edge, giving her the last little shove that she needed.

She arched into him, mind going blank and mouth going slack against his, no longer kissing back because of the intensity of her pleasure, but Harry continues licking ito her, his tongue sliding against her and teeth nipping at her bottom lip before he snapped back into his senses and pulled out to release hot, white spurts all over his and her abdomen. His face scrunched up into one of seeming pain, his lips mouthing fuck fuck fuck but no sound coming out.

There was no need, but y/n reached down and gripped him, sliding her hand up and down his cock to ride him through his orgasm, milking the remaining cum from his dick so it spurted onto her tits.

“Fuck me. Baby, you’re perfect.” Harry laid her back down and kissed all over her face slowly. On her cheek, her brow bone, her nose, her forehead, and finally her lips. “So sweet, so good. You undid me, darling.”

She was quiet, but leaned up into his touch, her body still buzzing. Y/n was too tired to speak, her eyes heavy with the fatigue that usually came in a light dose after she got herself off. Her entire body felt spent.

“Tired, baby? Time for a little nap?” He brushed her hair off her forehead and kissed her again, a plushy pec tenderly placed.

Y/n nodded, and whined when she felt his weight shifting on the bed.

“What is it?” He said, stopping and turning to look at her.

She breathed a quiet, “stay.”

“M’not going anywhere, y/n. ‘Specially not after this. Gonna go get a washcloth to clean up my mess. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

There was the warmth in her chest, the warmth of his cum drying on her skin, the warmth of the soft towel ridding her of his mess, and the warmth of his arms around her as she fell asleep.

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles mob boss #harry styles smut oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut fanfic #harry styles blurb #harry styles blurbs #harry styles soft

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peeterparkr · 3 years

Text

perennial;tom holland|ten.

chapter ten: aconite

↳ flower meaning: [beautiful flower, poisonous] be cautious

chapter summary: reasons to love, reasons not to and conversations that should be held.

pairing: tom holland x y/n

warnings: it’s slightly angsty, slightly fluffy, the chapter begins at some point but will not be at that point, you’ll see

word count: 10.2K

SOCIAL MEDIA BEFORE THE CHAPTER:

masterlist & profiles

nine: in which we get to know who Clark is

previous chapter next chapter perennial masterlist.

perfidy ( series masterlist)

wanna be tagged?

Hey guys! So as you might have noticed I took a break, school has been super demanding and honestly I wasn’t as eager to write this, kinda lost motivation to write perennial because it got too demanding and honestly, well you know it... But I’m back on track! I hope you like this chapter, it’s slightly different.

Sometimes life is ironic, like winning the lottery after you die, or meeting the love of your life and finding out they’re married, or rain pouring down on your wedding day.

Ironic by Alanis Morissette had been the first song that had played when they’d arrived to that bar, James remembered.

Ironic.

But the most ironic thing to y/n at least was Dancing Queen being sung in the background by two—no, three drunken girls, the bright notes buzzing, as they were too boozed up to hit any kind of decent note or any kind of lyric. It was ironic, as y/n was trying to hold back the tears as she rushed through the dancing crowd, a very unaware crowd, that was sweating and dancing and cheering and singing to the beaming to the cheerful song as she tried to swim her way through to finally get outside.

Y/n knew Tom and her had never been fine. It just wasn’t a word in their relationship vocabulary. It was usually chaos. Like what it felt at that precise moment. She knew that Tom and her were chaos, that was true. But this.

She couldn’t breathe.

It was something she already knew would happen, eventually, though it’s stupid to walk into a relationship knowing you’redoomed. It must have been a figment of her imagination. What she had seen. And on her birthday. Her very own birthday.

But it wasn’t.

She hadn’t imagined it.

But what exactly had led to the chaos? Why had it come so easily? Everything had been particularly lovely.

But of course, she knew that the fact she was crying outside a stupid bar trying to catch her breath, as she could still hear the faint music from the inside was no coincidence and was no surprise. Her sorrow had had a beginning and this chaos had been building up since James’ arrival, this was the ending she definitely didn’t want.

Not that it had to do with her brother per se, but it came from that moment. Or maybe she was just trying to blame it on someone else rather than on Tom.

She did blame it a bit on James.

“Y/N, here you are,” James said as soon as he had walked out of the bar. “It’s—“

“I don’t want to hear it right now,” she stated before looking up to see her brother. “I know it, James—“

“Y/N—“James wanted to calm her down. “I”

“I know, you told me so-”She snapped. “I fucking know that. Go and search for your fucking boyfriend that’s the only think you care about-”

Clark had walked out as if he knew he’d be mentioned. Clark had arrived days before, apparently James announcing his engagement hadn’t exactly been to share it, but rather a warning to y/n.

“Y/N, are you alright-” Clark had tried to ask.

“No, get out of my face, I need to… Where the hell is Emma?” Y/N didn’t mean to snap at him but she couldn’t care any less.

“It wasn't him,” Clark had tried to say.

But it had been. However, y/n guessed she knew what he meant.

“I don’t want to hear it,” she said. “Could’ve been any other day but no, everyone fucking decided to ruin my damn birthday, I didn’t even care about it! I just—Need to leave.”

“But I’m sure Tom—“

And even though y/n knew it wasn’t... it felt...it had hit too close to a feeling that she was too familiar with. A deja-vu if one must say. A nightmare that she had once forgotten.

Of course, nobody did understand why she had reacted that way.

Correction, they did. They would expect her to react that way because what she’d seen had been hell. But they didn’t understand what she truly felt. Maybe Sam, probably Sam. Who had seen her all those years back, way too long ago. Yet it seemed like just yesterday. But Sam had seen a very different y/n back then...Not stronger but a y/n that kept her feelings. Not like this, running away from it, wasn’t y/n supposed to be stronger now?

He guessed that reliving it wasn’t easy, especially by what came afterwards. There was a slight difference this time, however, huge difference, actually.

Tom did run after her, and he was probably still searching for her.

“You don’t get it,” y/n said. “I—I need—It just felt—It felt just like that time.”

James saw Tom rushing out of the bar, too. He pitied Tom for once this week.

This wasn’t Tom’s fault… allegedly. Technically, it wasn’t. Now, if you look at the background of course he was to blame and he was an idiot, but this was something that James… could understand. He could, in a way, team up with Tom.

James knew this would eventually happen. This chaos was ticking and it was only a matter of time till the chaos exploded.

Relationships are complicated, but they’re bright most of the time. When two people are in love what else can you do about it?

James knew it, love was a bitch and love can make us do impossible things. Some people often confuse love with possession or love with passion or love for a caprice. James was particularly scared y/n would confuse love with a memory.

Love shouldn’t hurt. That’s why he was probably too worried about y/n. And too angry at Tom for making a fool out of his sister. He, however, was impressed by that. But not really since James knew that from a very young age y/n was stupid enough when it came to Tom. But to make a fool out of y/n when she was the one to almost usually keep her sanity?

James was impressed by how easily it was for Tom to make y/n go stupidly crazy when it came to him. Even now, he had been so impressed by his sister’s stupid infatuation. James did, however, like that Tom managed to get that smile he hadn’t seen in a while. But she looked very stupid while at it.

Tom was an idiot, too. Y/N also managed to make Tom the most stupid man on the planet. Not that he needed help with that, though.

However, just as fast as Tom could make y/n smile he could be just as fast to break her heart. Most of the time he didn’t mean it, and James was sure Tom didn’t mean to this time.

It’s the backstabbing disadvantage Tom had for being an idiot.

James had been one of the few people who had seen the true nature of their relationship. He had indeed noticed Tom was so foolishly in love with y/n from an early beginning and he had been the one to point it out when she was just a kid. He wished he hadn’t because the moment y/n had heard him say those words, she had turned into a very stupid little girl.

He had, however hinted it out to Tom, several occasions, that he did notice.

“Y/N looked pretty, huh?” He had asked once after seeing the boy blush.

“Breathtaking much, Tom? Please close that mouth.”

“You and y/n looked awfully good together in those pictures from prom.”

“Stop staring at my sister, eyes up here buddy.”

James did notice. Tom had even once told James about it. In his own way.

“I don’t actually hate your sister, not really.”

But he didn’t quite understand why they acted like that. Why had they been so full of pride to admit they were in love with each other? How bad would it be for both of them to admit that their eyes followed each other? Why did it hurt them so badly to admit they made each other blush and smile?

James had seen it after y/n came back from Rome, from both sides. Y/N would hum songs, Tom would be smiling more.

They’d be talking. Not fighting. Even laughing together.

And James had seen that this week, and he had been proven wrong. They truly were in love, even after all, even after everything. He could see them both, trying to fight for each other, the simplest of things he’d seen like Tom pushing y/n’s hair back if she was reading the script and it bothered her sight, or y/n gently squeezing Tom’s arm when she saw he was nervous about directing. Or both of them giving each other a look, with probably an inside joke of theirs or as if they were speaking with only their sight and then looking away and smiling to themselves.

They were in love, and James knew it. James knew love.

Love for him was Clark.

His damned secret, kept for too long from y/n. He would’ve kept him a secret for longer, not because he was ashamed, and not because he didn’t like him. But because… Clark was something so personal for James and sharing him meant losing their intimacy.

Clark and James were fine by themselves, they didn’t need anyone intruding in their relationship.

Clark is the love we all dear and yearn for, the kind of love you only see in movies in the background, nor even the main characters, just the one perfect couple that’s always in the cafe, quietly smiling at each other. The kind of love that’s cozy, and that though it may be troubled sometimes, it’s truthful. The one love you never want to give up.

He’d seen the way Tom looked at y/n, it reminded him of the way Clark looked at him.

Maybe that’s why he wanted to side with Tom this time.

James was getting married and though it might had come to a surprise to y/n, he knew that if he were to tell Tom, Tom wouldn’t be surprised at all.

Tom had introduced Clark to James. Maybe he owed him for that.

“This guy, I swear, he’s the perfect catch for you, you’re gonna thank me one day, maybe on your wedding day,” Tom had said with mischief.

“You know you don’t have to introduce me to every gay guy my age you meet,” James had sassed. “Besides, where did you meet him—?”

“Golfing, his dad—“

“Oh, he golfs? Hard pass, I hate guys who like golf,” James had cleared. “Pretentious idiots.”

“Hey!” Tom had frowned, “no, but he doesn’t golf, he hates it, but his dad dragged him along so that’s why I think he’s perfect for you! I swear I had two words with the guy and I—“

“No.”

“I already gave him your number.”

He had hated Tom at that point but… he guessed he was very thankful for that and that’s why maybe he was having such a hard time trying to convince himself that Tom wasn’t meant to be for y/n, because if Tom had been so right about Clark, how wrong could he be about y/n?

James wanted y/n to have a Clark. And though, he had initially loved the idea of Tom and y/n, he now saw how it could end up so badly if they didn’t get rid of the baggage, which was unmistakably very heavy for both of them to ignore. It's baggage that’s been built from years now.

Baggage that James and Clark didn’t have, because they always talked it out. Baggage that had shown up at that very particular night.

But he had told y/n about it, he had warned her on his very first day in LA.

“You’re getting married, oh my god,” y/n had said for what James was sure was the hundredth time. And she had been even more excited when she’d learned he’d be coming.

“Yes, can we move on—“

“No!” She stopped him. “Why do you want to move on?”

“Because—“he couldn’t quite explain it. Clark was his. He didn’t have to say anything else.

“James!”

“The same reason as to why you didn’t want to tell me about Tom,” James said.

“So you have baggage?”

“Not—“James closed his eyes. “When you were—Back in Rome.”

Y/N watched him. “Oh, because—it’s,” y/n understood about it. Love is between the people in love and that’s it.

“Or—no, no, look, it’s—“James sighed. “I’m—it’s my thing you know?”

“I’m your sister.”

“It’s not about not sharing it with you,” he rolled his eyes, “it’s about keeping him to myself, you know? To be lucky enough to know what we have.”

“But—Clark? I thought you—I didn’t know—You said you hated the guy!”

James glared at his sister waiting for her to see the irony.

“No, my case is different,” she pointed out. “Tom and I-- well… You said you hated him!”

“Well, I lied alright? I just never wanted to admit—I mean you knew I was dating him, why does this come as a surprise?”

“Because you— hated him?”

“I didn't. I just didn’t want to admit that I fell in love with someone Tom introduced me to.”

She looked away. “See? He’s not that bad. I mean he—he introduced you to him, he's not as bad.”

“I know he isn’t,” James agreed. “But you have to talk to him.”

“Everything was simpler when we pretended to hate each other,” y/n had said, melancholically staring at the ceiling as she had a flower pressed to her chest. “Maybe I—understand it, spreading it out is difficult.”

James rolled his eyes. “Why is it so hard for you to tell him that you’re not okay?”

“Because I feel like he knows already,” she admitted. “But we're trying to pretend we are okay, so we… I don’t know, fake it till you make it.”

“Y/N—“

“I’m kidding, I mean—I guess we haven’t really had time to talk, we—We already kind of talked the Timmy thing which—“

James could tell y/n was the one who didn’t want to talk, they were very much alike in that matter. “The Timmy thing?”

“He’s incredibly jealous of Tim,” she rolled her eyes tiredly, “which I don’t—It’s stupid.”

“Is it, y/n, didn’t you tell me you slept with him?”

“Yes but—I—Look,” she coughed. “It’s—Not something—I… I don’t know, when… I saw Cherry, I guess I wanted to get over him, but I can’t… I...it always comes back to him, you know?”

James watched her, confused.

“It’s funny, how we translated the bad parts into good ones, and I am so scared that I won’t get to say everything I feel for him for yet another chance…. And he is just...The love of my life, and it feels...there’s no other explanation for it, you know? He just is. And I look back and even though we were always fighting I just…” She took a deep breath. “And it did break me, the Cherry thing, him moving on with someone else just, I guess I wanted to move on, too, I thought… It’s gone, you know? Then he comes back and it’s another spark, you know? I just get out of my stupid senses... but I just did it because I couldn’t bear the thought that we are not meant to be.”

James remained quiet.

“And no matter what everyone says, I’d still choose him, you know? It’s so…” She cleared her throat. “So stupid, but then I just remember that feeling with us laughing and smiling and the...The first time he ever said he loved me I couldn’t quite… Believe it, you know? And it’s not… Gosh I hate that we are both so stupid but we’re doing our best, and he…I don’t know. Maybe it’s stupid but I think… I like to think we both missed waking up beside each other.”

“That’s not love.”

“No, I know, not that, but it is love, in our own very particular way, but we’re so much more than that, yes the pieces are all scattered around, but I know I want to fight for it, and… I think our problem is we aimed too high or… I can’t help but be confused about the script you know? Because if it hadn’t been for it… I would’ve never had a chance yet it seemed like I… It’s a very delicate subject, but I don’t know, love is complicated, that’s it. But I love him more than anything.”

James knew that y/n knew that Tom and her probably didn’t work out. She knew she’d broken Tom’s heart. It was no secret that y/n felt that the worst thing that she’d ever done was breaking his heart. She knew that, and though everybody said it, she should forgive herself, she knew that it wasn’t easy.

James didn’t know what to answer.

“I don’t want to lose him.”

“Yet you’re loving him as if you are going to,” James intruded.

“You never know, and i think that’s the best way to love, love as if you’re gonna lose each other, then you know you’re really loving them…. Life has taught us both that we can screw up,” she gulped. “And I don’t know, I know...there’s a part of me that thinks it won’t last even if we try to, you know? But then again, I think about it and I know we’ll eventually end up together again. And I know I… look, I know I shouldn’t be saying this because I need no man but this time in L. A., I felt… numb, you know? And I guess I was sad because there was nothing holding us together, and… I would put on a smile every Friday, you know? Pretend I was okay, and I was healing of course, but I still had so much love left for him. Still do and I don’t want to let go of my chance. Might as well be happy, I’m tired of listening to me crying anyway.”

Y/N did say ‘you know’ a lot, and James did know. Not sure how.

“Why do you love him?” He asked.

“He’s just too good to be true,” y/n smiled slightly, to herself. “I don’t—know, I just do, he’s the only one that gets through to me, and I feel alive when I’m with him,” she bit her lip. “I feel like I am a teenager all over again, but a good way, like when you’re excited about trying new stuff and excited about growing up, and being rebellious, and” she closed her eyes. “As cheesy as it sounds, I just lose all my defenses, but with him, I don’t feel lonely, he’s like… I don’t know, he’s just a song written by the hand of god.”

James only listened. Y/N wasn’t… this, usually. Y/n never really said things like that. It was odd.

“Y/N, that’s—“

“I know, I’m being ridiculous,” she blushed. “But I do love him. Because he’s—a moment, he is… I love him because I know him, and even with his flaws I completely love him.”

“He’s an idiot, y/n, he slept with Cherry.”

James didn’t understand it. Not really. Or not completely, for that matter. But he knew it. It was so complicated but he didn’t blame her, he guessed that y/n wasn’t a quitter, maybe that’s why she was trying so hard. And maybe she was right, and he knew it, Tom wasn’t that bad… But the fact he’d slept with Cherry was completely inappropriate.

“I never thought I’d need him,” she admitted. “And I missed him, but I didn’t miss the heartbreak.”

A broken heart can blind us.

He’d seen Tom once back in London, and he wasn’t alright. Tom wasn’t doing fine with y/n being away, and with the heartache, his eyes always looked tired, and he was paler, and quiet.

Tom was never quiet.

And yet just as James had arrived in Los Angeles he’d seen a very different Tom, one with bright eyes and pink cheeks again. Like y/n, too. Her voice over the phone sounded off, always too distracted, or not there. Now she seemed… better, but still broken.

James knew there was no use on trying to convince y/n and she had promised that she wouldn’t continue unless she talked to Tom about it. James knew she was so good at avoiding it.

Y/N had taken James to set the next day and he’d seen them again, very different, very professional. He saw it in their eyes, though. Eyes looking to lock with the other and that shy smile.

James had to look past that, as he saw his little sister’s dream come true, and he could tell that she didn’t quite believe it herself. And it was like seeing that little girl just from years ago with a hope and a dream and her always bossing the Holland boys around as she wrote a script for their home made movie.

He saw them all like kids, Tom, Harry, Sam and y/n. It was like them being kids again. In a way.

Now it was a real set, with real actors, a real movie, a real script and Harry was directing, he couldn’t believe it. Y/N and Tom were discussing over with some of the actors and Harry talked to the crew.

James guessed Tom and y/n had a lot to say between the chemistry of the actors. He couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing, how they did work together, at least in the professional way, as Tom was directing them.

Did it hurt? James wondered as he watched Tom, directing Gregg, telling him how it should feel:

“She’s the love of your life and that guy over there took the chance when you blew it up, of course you hate him, he’s the worst person in the world because… What makes him so bad is that… he is perfect for her,” James had heard Tom say.

James had time to observe y/n and Tom. From afar and when y/n was not hiding. On that particular day when they were rehearsing that one scene when Valerie and Teddy were together, when they were supposed to be in love, dancing, all while William had to watch in the distance.

Odd scene to see, considering his conversation with y/n. Did y/n have feelings for Tim still? Even if she assured she loved Tom?

All of James' doubts were clearly erased as soon as he’d seen them.He’d seen them laughing with each other, shyly looking away, and y/n… giggled.

Y/n giggled?

It bothered him. Because it felt like Tom didn’t care, as if they’d simply erased it, in a way. But James was very aware that y/n was only bottling it all up, and y/n is dangerous, if she bottles too much she would end up losing control.

James had seen them walk away together to have lunch, Sam and Harry had gone separate ways after but stayed far enough from them. Emma had joined James instead, they were close to y/n and Tom.

Emma seemed sad. James couldn’t ask much about it, but from what he’d gathered from Harry, things weren’t going fine. Harry had only mentioned how it would take him a lot of time, that there was hope but that Emma just didn’t want to give in. But James could tell Emma did love Harry, and he admired Emma, her bravery and strength. She had to break off an engagement because her fiance wasn’t sure about it. Of course she wouldn’t forgive him that easily, Harry had been an idiot.

James wished y/n was a bit more like Emma, y/n was too forgiving, and y/n was too stubborn and too blinded by the stupid boy to see it.

James and Emma were eavesdropping, because both of them probably didn’t have a conversation themselves, and because both of them had gone close so they could hear, but hidden enough not to be seen.

Nothing interesting about their conversation, the script, the set. Until...

“I was going to take you camping,” Tom mentioned out of the blue.

Y/N had chuckled. “What?”

“Yeah,” he gulped. “For your—for your birthday.”

She grinned. “Camping?”

“Yeah,” Tom cleared his throat.

“That sounds so—cool,” y/n said, a bit confused by the idea.

“But guess that idea is off the charts now.”

She scowled. “Why?”

“I am pretty sure your brother doesn’t want you alone with me,” Tom laughed nervously.

James nodded in agreement to Tom’s statement as Emma tried to hide a snicker.

Y/N sighed, rolling her eyes, shaking her head and letting out a very forced laugh. “He’s an idiot.”

“No, no, I—I understand it, you’re his little sister and he’s always been very protective.”

“He hasn’t,” Y/N chuckled.

“Oh, he has, even I know he had a talk with Tim,” Tom hissed the name.

“What?”

“Didn’t you know? He told him that if he broke your heart he’d chop his dick off,” he assured her.

James shrugged and looked at Emma. “And he didn’t,” James whispered. “Because Timmy is a good guy.”

Emma scoffed.

“I… oh my god, I didn’t know,” Y/N sounded embarrassed.

Tom coughed. “I’m terrified of your brother.”

“Good,” James mouthed to Emma.

“Hm but what were you planning?” Y/N asked, getting back on the subject. “Camping, really?”

“I dunno, rent a cabin, go for a hike, spend the day and night together,” Tom had changed his voice and gotten slightly closer to y/n.

“Hm tell me more,” y/n had grinned.

James motioned as if he was going to puke.

“And I thought we could have time to ourselves you know? I know we work best when we are alone,” Tom had continued before getting his lips close to hers.

“Hm we do,” y/n had closed the gap between them.

“My sister’s an idiot,” James told Emma. “Why are you letting her do that?”

Emma rolled her eyes, shaking her head. “I can’t stop her.”

“And well I thought it’d be romantic,” Tom continued.

“Hm why don’t we go?”

Tom laughed. “And take your brother?”

“We wouldn’t-”

“We would have to, y/n,” Tom laughed.

James nodded again.

“But yeah that was my idea, you and me in the woods with no distractions,” Tom commented to y/n.

“Hmm…” Y/n had leaned yet again to kiss him.

James scrunched his nose, he really didn’t understand how Tom managed to get y/n so stupid.

“You know, the cabin I had seen was really romantic,” Tom explained.

“Was it now?” y/n blushed.

“Yes, hm... it had a fireplace, and it was so cozy,” he continued. “And I know it’s not 80’s type of aesthetic you like—“

“No, no, shut up! I would’ve loved it, it sounds so romantic,” y/n had chanted.

James was confused. “It doesn’t, ew,” he whispered to Emma.

“It was,” Tom agreed with y/n.

“And what were we going to do?” Y/n asked.

James closed his eyes and shook his head.

“Hm, there was a nice place to go hiking, uh, fishing, maybe? and you know relax, talk, get...cozy,” Tom continued.

“Oh,so he was right?” Y/n asked.

“Who was?” Tom frowned, confused.

“James,” Y/n said.

James raised his brows at the mention of his name.

“About what?” Asked Tom.

Y/n giggled. “You were planning on giving me your—”

Thankfully, Tom hadn’t let her finish the sentence. “You’re taking away all the romance out of it when you say it like that!”

James wanted to die.

Y/N laughed, loudly. “But were you?”

Tom was embarrassed. “I—I mean it may have been on the schedule yes hopefully—I mean don’t say it like that, oh my god, y/n—But—“

“Was it on the schedule then?” Y/n asked. “How did you write it? Sex at 8?“

“No! No, I—it was—Not planned—I mean I wasn’t going to assign like a time but I mean it would I—kinda thought I—mean I knew—I assumed—“

“Oh, so you assumed it?” Y/N laughed. “So you just assumed I was going to ride you?”

James seriously thought he was going to die.

“No, I didn’t!” Tom was red. “Y/n! I—I no!”

“So you didn’t want to then?”

“Yes! But—I thought it could be an open possibility?” Tom was nervous. “I—“

Now it was y/n’s turn to not let him finish as she had already kissed him again. Emma was so entertained by the conversation and James’ reaction that she couldn’t hide a lighter for not longer. James lost it by then, so he quickly stood up and walked to them.

Emma followed, curiously.

The couple was still kissing.

James cleared his throat loud enough for both of them to hear him and quickly separate.

Y/N frowned. “James for god’s sake!”

James walked over to them, “We are having lunch and I don’t see you eating, so Emma and I should join you.”

“Sorry y/n,” Emma whispered to her friend.

Tom and y/n were red, so, so red, and Tom was shaking. James only glared once at Tom before Tom moved away from y/n, just as James sat between them.

“Your food is intact,” James pointed out.

Tom moved away. “I—we were.”

“No, Tom, eating my sister’s face is not lunch,” James cockily said.

“James what the fuck,” y/n snapped at her brother.

Tom laughed nervously. “James, c'mon man.”

Emma felt awkward. “Why don’t we—eat?”

They stayed quiet for a bit.

“So, what are you guys?” James asked.

Tom almost choked on his food. “What?”

“James!” Y/N complained.

Emma just smirked.

“yeah, what are you? Have you guys talked about it? All your emotional baggage?” James pushed.

Tom coughed. “We have been.. discussing it.”

Y/N turned to Tom. “don’t answer”

James smirked. “No, no no no, y/n, I wanna know.”

Tom nodded. “What do you want to know?”

“What is going on,” James reminded him.

“I love your sister,” Tom answered.

Emma watched between all of them.

“Doesn’t answer my question,” James raised his eyebrow, as if challenging Tom.

“James,” Y/N hissed.

“I—it’s it’s true I am deeply in love with her and have been for a while now,” Tom said as if defending himself.

“Are you a couple?” James asked.

“Yes,” Tom said.

“No,” answered y/n at the same time.

Both of them turned to each other, with confusion.

Emma blew her cheeks in.

“Um… What did you think of the… I saw you guys were working on Jesse’s girl today!” Emma quickly intruded.

James clicked his tongue. “No, wait Emma… This is interesting,” James continued.

“What-” Tom frowned watching y/n.

Y/N shook her head. “James can you please leave us alone.”

“I… Well, I’m just confused, and I have more questions… A, y/n why do you keep making out with this man if you’re not a couple I mean you can do whatever the fuck you want with your life but this man may I remind you has broken your heart and hurt you in so many possible ways—even broke your bones?”

Tom coughed. “That was accidental... all of those.”

James shook his head. “Eh, I haven't finished pretty boy, and b) why are you Tom, saying you’re a couple when you haven’t talked about it?” He pushed.

Y/N glared at her brother. “James this isn’t any of your business.”

Tom only clenched his jaw.

“Uh, er… Guys, I’m gonna….” Emma had awkwardly stood up, “I’m gonna pretend they need me over there,” she announced before leaving.

“You’re fucking insane,” y/n declared at her brother before storming off, following Emma, leaving James and Tom alone.

Tom avoided his gaze.

“I know you hate me, but-” Tom started.

“I don’t, I care a lot about you and that’s why I’m doing this…” He said.

Tom scoffed. “Oh, so you’re helping me out with this?” He glared.

“I’m not,” James said. “But you perfectly know what you did to y/n, and I’m sorry Tom but you can’t-”

“It’s between me and her,” he said.

“But I know you both, and you’re both so stupid, Tom, for fuck’s sake, and you slept with Cherry,” James snapped. “I’m not letting that-”

“Who told you?” Tom asked.

“Doesn’t matter,” Jamessaid.

“Did you tell her?”

“Didn’t have to,” James said. “She knew it already. And if you don’t have the balls to talk about it with her, which honestly-”

“I want to, okay?” Tom barked. “I can’t believe I did it but I want to work it out!” He snapped. “I thought you were fine with us!”

“No, Tom I’m not—fine with this,” James explained. “And I can’t believe I’ve let you hurt her this much and I swear Tom she might believe you but I don’t-”

“Look we want to talk it out, I mean it alright—your sister is the love-”

“Love of your life! Then why have you been such an asshole to her?” James wondered. “Do you even know it Tom? How badly you broke her? After Rome? Do you even realize-”

“Yes I do! And that’s why I bloody want to do things right this time, okay? I want to give her the entire world, alright? I’m not… I’m not joking, alright? I actually… I want to make it up to her, I’m… so in love with her, and I just want the best for her,” he said, gulping. “I…” He sighed. “Maybe we haven’t talked about it because we both know it’ll break us apart, alright?” Tom looked away. “And I just want her to know about it, everything, how she’s been my everything… Since we were children, okay… James you know me, you’ve known me my whole life and you know I’m not lying to you, I love her,” he sighed. “I don’t want to hurt her and I know I’ve fucked up. I just… I know it, it’s so hard, and I…” He gulped. “I guess… I know I slept with Cherry, I know, I did it, I’m not denying it, and I have no excuse but I… When I did it it was… I thought she had left to move on with Tim again because... “ Tom looked away. “I know it, alright? I’m not… good enough for her and you’ve shown me that, because you didn’t fucking act this way with Tim, and no one has said it with me, I know I’m the bad guy here, Harry doesn’t approve of me, Sam doesn’t approve of me, Emma doesn’t approve of me, you don’t… like me,” Tom gulped. “But I genuinely love her, and I know I’m a fucking mess, but… nobody knows about us, alright?”

James clenched his jaw. No, it wasn’t alright no matter how many times he said it.

“And it’s difficult to apologize, you’re right, I probably don’t have the balls for it, I’m a fucking coward, and I know, but I’m just trying to be honest with her, and with you, I genuinely want the world for her, and if I have to go back to the start then I will,” he sighed. “And I don’t know how to talk about it with her, and I don’t know if she feels the same way,” he took a deep breath. “And it’s killing me that I don’t know where she’s standing, and she avoids talking and I know how… She works, you know? She’s always been so reserved.”

“The problem with both of you is you both think it’s you against each other,” James said.

Tom looked up at him.

“It’s always been that way, y/n against Tom, and I feel like you’re doing it again,” James said. “I am just telling you both, to realize it, it’s both of you against the problem not you against each other,” James said.

Tom nodded. “I know that, and I’ve tried talking to her, but she… Ignores it, or someone comes in, or we have to-”

“You’re searching for excuses,” James said, he seemed calmer now.

“I’m not,” Tom said. “And I really mean it James, I don’t want to break her heart, I don’t want to hurt her anymore.”

“And if she ends up hurting you?”

“I’ll work it out,” Tom said.

“Why are you directing this?” James questioned.

Tom didn’t answer that, instead he took a deep breath.

“If this is another one of your stupid plans—“

“It’s not, and not even a plan to try to win her back,” Tom explained, “it’s not—not like that. I want to give her the world,, and I know this—This whole thing is the world to her, you—you really underestimate me, Jay, as if I were some kind of stranger to you or to her, but—I’m not,” he repeated.

“Maybe it’s time you both move on.”

“I don’t want to move on, and—I tried, I—that’s why it happened, everyone said it: Move on, Tom, she’s just another girl… and fuck.”

“She’s—“

“She’s not, I’m very aware of that, but even Haz and Harry said it, I fucked up, she fucked up, move on man,” Tom mocked their voices, angrily. “Just another girl, and, and I tried to… move on, thinking yeah, it’s only a stupid thought or whim, yes and I thought—if she’s really just another girl, then why the hell can’t I move on? how—Even other friends said, hey, you’re Tom Holland,” he let out a soft dry cackle. “a million girls are dying to be with you and—“Tom closed his eyes, “maybe it was that, me trying to—Trying to move on, but I don’t—want it, I don’t want another girl, James.”

James only watched him.

“And I’m telling you this not because you are her brother but because you’re my friend and I’m—I’m just—You know me, James, you know me perfectly and you’re acting as if you didn’t, yes I’m—I am an idiot, and yes I know I’m probably the worst option for her, and I probably tick every single bad box but—at the same time I’m—“ he gulped. “I just can’t believe how stupid I am, and I—I am” Tom meant it, James could tell. “When I’m with her, I feel like myself, and I don’t often feel that way, and she’s just this… incredible person. And I’m—terrified, I’m terrified of it. But I need her,” he gulped. “Not—in—I don’t know.”

Maybe James needed to hear that from Tom. Though he still—James couldn’t forgive Tom. Even if it wasn’t his business, he could forgive him for breaking his sister.

“And I’m very aware that I’ve lost her before because I know it, I’m an idiot, but maybe I’m too stubborn to admit that I lost my chance. Because I—I haven’t, alright? And this might be my last one but—I can’t admit it to myself, but I know about it, Jay, I know that what we could’ve had is gone so maybe just let me cling on to whatever we’re holding on until she decides to let me go, alright?”

“I don’t understand why you’re both in a relationship where both of you think it’ll end up badly,” James had questioned.

“You see, I’m trying for it not to end up that way,” he said,

“But you think it’ll end, then?”

Tom hadn’t answered him.

“Why do you love her?”

“She’s my home,” Tom shrugged as he quickly answered, he didn’t have to think about it. “I—I was always scared of growing up but it doesn’t hurt when I’m with her, when life is—getting too hard she was always there with those pair of old jeans and bright smile and yes, initially she was there to call me an idiot but she just made time stop, completely,” he shrugged. “Because she just—“ he smiled sadly, “she helps me find my heartbeat in the middle of all the bustle.”

James didn’t know Tom could be so poetic. But he meant it, or at least James hoped he meant it.

James didn’t push it any further. After that, y/n had ignored him. Y/N was excellent at doing so, if she wanted to ignore someone she’d make sure they noticed. And she was angry at her brother. Besides when it comes to siblings, it feels even more personal and very immaturely done. y/n had ignored James and made sure to make him feel ignored. She would avoid his gaze, and she’d pretend she didn’t listen to him.

She hadn’t even offered him a ride back to aunt Eliza’s.

Tom had been the one to offer it.

James had apologized to Tom, and he had only shrugged it off.

“She’s your sister. I get it, she deserves the world, you’re only trying to give it to her.”

Harry said he needed a beer, maybe they all needed one.

Maybe James had to give it to Tom, y/n was one to ignore people and her problems per se. Tom had also ignored James, not like y/n, Tom was probably angry at James. James didn’t care for that.

“I love the chemistry between Gregg and Auli’i,” Harry had said when they were at the bar, all of them beers in their hands. “They’re—really—“

“It’s too familiar,” Sam had laughed. “Very familiar.”

“Not—there’s something missing,” Tom said.

“Is it weird?” James asked.

“What?”

“Come on, the script?” James said.

Tom shrugged. “It gives me a better understanding of her,” Tom admitted. “It’s—She really did write her heart out in there.”

Harry watched between them.

“What happened today?” Sam wondered. “I saw y/n storm off with Emma.”

“I was a jerk,” James said, “to her and to Tom.”

Sam and Harry side-eyed each other.

“What’s going on with Emma?” Sam asked, quickly trying to avoid the subject.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut, it seemed like an old bad joke hearing about it.

“She’s… She says she’s not ready,” Harry said. “She just says she’s not ready, and she…” Harry took a deep breath.

“You two are the most stupid men in the world,” he said, staring at Tom and Harry. “You both come here, without giving them any warning, and you expect them to run after you? And don’t--Emma’s reaction is logical,” James continued. “But you have to understand that Emma came here to heal, Y/N came here for her dream, and you two came in barging just to shove it, the two men they came running away from just shoved in their way to say ‘Hey, y/n, I’m in charge of your dream now’”

Sam took a log sip from his beer, with a big smirk. “Thank you, James, that’s what I’ve been telling them.”

“But… Okay, yes, but you don’t know all the facts,” Harry sighed. “Look, if we hadn’t taken the project probably nobody else would!”

James blinked. “What?”

Tom looked away.

Harry bit his lip, nervously, shaking his head. “I… We called the studio looking for her project and apparently there had been a lot of directors and producers rejecting the project,” Harry said.

“So yes, we decided to barge in, and we said we’d be the stand in directors until someone showed up,” Tom explained. “We worked with the casting and everything and we’ve been behind the stage but we--And, I know that y/n never wanted us to be involved but the thing is it’s… It’s a hard project, and she’s unknown, and… It’s an amazing story, you know? But it’s… Films these days are all about superheroes, I should know, or too serious, and--It’s got potential, it’s got a lot of potential, and--” Tom sighed. “Maybe it was a mistake but at least this way we can be assured it’s get done her way. So at the end… we did accept the project because I’m just... “

Harry watched his brother and then turned to James. “Yeah.”

James had really underestimated Tom, probably everyone did. Maybe that’s what Tom was so stressed about.

“I do--” Tom clenched his jaw. “I might want to change just a few bits but I…”He looked away. “We’ve been talking about it with her, to make William more human, less of an asshole.”

Harry nodded.

“I think,” Sam shrugged. “Well, I don’t know much about films or whatever, but I think he’s human enough, and at least you understand it, I think y/n actually did a great job on him,” Sam continued. “I…think he even made him even way too nice,” he chuckled. “Like, there is a point where you understand why she loves him, I think, the story is built so you think you need to hate him but I guess the audience is supposed to fall in love with him as Y/N-- I mean, Valerie falls, hell, she even made me want to fall in love,” Sam laughed. “But I mean it’s purely fiction, in real life I don’t get how the hell she’s in love with you.”

“Shut up,” Tom rolled his eyes, he had chuckled slightly, but James saw that Tom was slightly hurt by those words.

James had read the script only once, he hadn’t really read it because he felt like he was reading y/n’s diary, which he had done once when they were younger, and she had been so angry at him. The script had felt like getting into y/n’s deepest feelings. He remembered a particular line which had stuck out from the rest.

“I love him and I’ve run out of reasons to say why, I just know that even when there’s no music playing we will find a way to dance.”

Maybe Tom needed everyone to know the backstory, see past his actions. And probably y/n didn’t know this, James knew she’d get angry because she wanted to get it out herself, not be helped by him, make a name for herself, however in the industry it was difficult enough. But maybe it made sense, the reason why y/n loved Tom so much, because she didn’t need reasons to, she just did, and he kept giving her reasons to.

“But….Emma, then?” James asked, trying to get back on the subject.

“Well… she slept with Josh,” Harry continued.

“What?” Tom interrupted, angrily. “She did what?”

“That night after the movie,” Harry bit his lip. “I-”

“And you’re okay with that?” Tom questioned.

“They’re not together, Tom,” Sam quickly said. “Besides, it’s most likely because-”

“Because she was nervous about Harry coming here,” James ended the sentence.

Harry shrugged. “She was honest about it, and I mean--I don’t, I know she doesn’t love him, and yes, I was jealous but…”

James watched Tom who nodded, knowingly.

“I mean she chose a random guy to have sex with because she was stressed,” Harry nodded. “And she did tell me it meant nothing and I mean, it’s… It’s her body, she can do whatever she wants, and we… are not together.”

“Where does one draw the line, though?” Sam questioned. “With rebounds, I mean.”

James scoffed and shrugged. “It depends, on how soon, how the relationship ended.”

“The whole, are we in a break or not,” Harry shrugged.

“Yeah,” James laughed. “Classic Ross and Rachel, we are on a break type of situation, like, of course, they were on a break but it was too soon, because-- there are breakups that last for a day, y’know? The argument says it all, and right away… Gives the wrong impression, as if, I didn’t love you anymore so I hooked up with the first person I saw, either in spite or-”

Harry nodded. “Yeah, also who it is with.”

“Oh, yes,” Sam nodded. “Right, like.. If it’s with another ex?” Sam clicked his tongue.

Harry scrunched his nose. “I think that’s normal, you know?”

“Is it?” Tom frowned. “Why would it be normal?”

James saw it as an opportunity to defend his sister, not sure whether Tom knew it or not. “Because it’s something familiar,” James said. “Like, you don’t have to search for something you might not like so just go to someone who once you know… Knew you.”

Tom coughed. “But like, that should mean they have feelings for them.”

“Nah,” Sam tossed a few fries into his mouth. “Well, depends on the ex, but like, if you’re only hooking up with them, I mean,” Sam rolled his eyes.

“It could awake feelings,” James nodded. “But if you’re searching for an ex it means you’re not up for someone new, it means you’re stuck somewhere there and sleeping with an ex means not wanting to move on.”

“And alright, if you-- You’re still dating Clark, right?” Tom asked. “If you broke up and he slept with his ex would you forgive him?”

James scrunched his nose. “I mean,” he shrugged. “As long as he doesn’t sleep with any relative.”

Tom opened his mouth to say something but then exhaled defeatedly.

“Like, for example, Sam,” James said. “That’s crossing the line on rebounds.”

Sam nodded in agreement. “Yeah, that’s… fucking up, by the way Cherry’s coming and well--”

“What exactly happened between you both?” James questioned.

Tom bit his lip, he took a deep breath as he tried to map his thoughts out, knowing that what he was about to say would change a lot of things.

“We were friends,” Tom said.

Sam and Harry only watched his older brother, probably nervous to the outcome of the conversation.

“I--Well,” he sighed. “She said she wanted someone to show her around London and…” Tom shook his head. “I… Well, she did flirt since the beginning and I… I didn’t answer at first, but then…I was so angry, I… I thought about it and thought hey, I lost my chance and y/n ran back to Tim and she is probably moving on.”

“Why did you think she was moving on?” James questioned. “She literally told you she loved you and only you.”

Tom took a deep breath. “I’m an idiot, and… I dunno,” he sighed. “I thought she would end up going back with Tim.

Harry widened his eyes with surprise, awkwardly asking for a second beer.

“I don’t know, I was heartbroken, I was stupid and… I missed her too much and I...And I felt lonely and and everyone here sees me as the bad guy, and I continue to be the bad guy, but she was someone new and someone who didn’t know me and she was... And then I saw Tim posted a picture and it was… Undeniable taken by her, you know?” Tom looked down. “And I… Well, that’s how they started last time, her taking pictures of him and I thought she would again and so in spite, or full of rage and so I tried to move on and the option was right there in front of me and Tim kept posting you know, and even if he didn’t say it I just knew it was y/n, and one day after way too many beers I finally gave in to Cherr’s flirting and it--”He squeezes his eyes shut. “And I told her that whatever happened, it didn’t have to mean anything I told her, no strings attached, no feelings and… it happened,” he sighed. “And I….But it didn’t feel… I don’t even remember how it happened and I just didn’t feel good with it, it made me feel even worse and lonelier and then she kept wanting to hang out and I just shut her out because it was a mistake and then, I thought I was a rebound to her as well, she had just broken up with her girlfriend and I thought I was just a rebound but she then… Showed more and I just… Gave her no explanation, not… I don’t know, I told her I wasnt in a good place and that I was still in love with someone else and that wouldn’t change and yes, I’m the asshole again and…”

All of them stayed quiet. What were they supposed to say?

It was ironic, how both Tom and y/n had assumed they’d move on, and the reasons why they did it, both of them sleep with an ex and a relative, because both of them assumed the other one would move on. Why? Maybe that’s why they were so stubborn right now because both of them realized neither did and they probably never would. As if they were just happy to find out they still loved each other but were too afraid to admit it out loud.

They remained quiet.

“Eh,” Sam had cut the silence, too awkward for him to handle. “Not that I don’t want to talk about a conversation that will probably end up giving Tom a mental breakdown, and don’t get me wrong I love having awkward silences, but I need… I need to know, Jay,” Sam smiled. “May I know what’s that on your finger?”

Harry and Tom finally landed their sight on James’ finger, a silver band wrapped right around his left ring finger.

“Hm?” James quickly hid his hand.

“Is that an engagement ring?” Harry questioned with a smirk.

“Uh-”

“Wait, uh--” Tom shook his head to shake away the sad feeling. “Are you engaged?”

“To Clark?” Harry asked.

Though he didn’t want to talk about it, he knew that the other conversation wasn’t for him to know. The other conversation was something Tom had to work out with y/n, which, yes, the reason had been very stupid, y/n had to work out with Tom how Tom felt about Tim.

Probably James and everyone else did, maybe they really had made Tom feel unworthy of y/n’s love and that’s why he kept sabotaging himself.

James did end up telling them, and he even finished the conversation thanking Tom for introducing him to Clark. Of course he didn’t have to tell them all the details, they were three straight men too stupid to care, and James was grateful he didn’t have to share as much, because it was his story, not anyone elses to know, it was his relationship and it was his Clark.

James had, however, explained to them that Clark would come, too, James was slightly nervous about it, given that he knew that y/n was definitely not going to be welcoming and that she’d keep ignoring him. That’s how y/n worked with James, no matter if he tried to apologize, she wouldn’t talk to him.

James knew he had made a mistake with this, but he needed to hear it from Tom, and though it wasn’t technically any of his business, he knew that Tom was more understanding, in his own way, than y/n.

Tom could talk to James, that’s the difference, and Tom hadn’t talked to James for a while and so James didn’t know, and of course it drove him crazy not to know why or how this was happening.

Tom, Sam and Harry all offered James a room in the house they were renting to stay there with Clark, he had accepted it because he knew Cherry was coming.

James didn’t want to face Cherry. Because James had this one habit that he couldn’t ever get rid off, he was too nosy when he wasn’t asked, and he had talked to Cherry about Tom, and warned her that Tom was just too important to y/n.

Y/N, as expected, kept ignoring James. But he had seen that Tom and y/n had gone out one night, alone, together. He had heard them walk into the house, and as much as he had tried to avoid eavesdropping, he had walked out, innocently to the kitchen and he’d seen them, on the couch, talking.

“I think we need to add a scene,” Tom had said. “It’s… important.”

“But… I don’t get it,” y/n said. “You want me tro write another one, I thought you’d said it was too long.”

“But this one is important y/n, it gives… backstory to William.”

“So you want me to make something up? Just to….”

“Yes, I told you, William searches for her after the whole London thing.”

“But that didn’t happen,” y/n said. “And that’s why Valerie-”

It seemed, Tom had told James, that Tom had found a loophole to talk without talking. Tom had explained to James that y/n would be avoiding the conversation, that didn’t surprise James. But Tom found a way to use the script to go over it, Tom had told James that they hadn’t really talked much but he had figured how to make them understand each other.

“It did happen, so let’s add this scene, right before Jessie’s girl scene, I need it,” Tom said. “And I talked about it with Harry and he says he wants it, too.”

“So he searches up for her? And then what? She shuts him out-”

“She’s not the one answering the door,” Tom explained. “But William does go to mend things and then T… Teddy opens the door.”

y/n had stayed quiet, as James was still wandering in the kitchen.

“James will you please leave?” She asked her brother. “I won’t continue this conversation until you leave, I know what you’re doing.”

He had left, but at least they had opened a conversation. He had seen them the very next day, asleep on the couch, so peacefully y/n laying on top of him. She had woken earlier than him and seen James in the kitchen.

“Good morning,” James had said.

“Morning,” y/n had answered sheepishly, as she stretched out.

“Oh, are you talking to me now?” James had asked. “I made tea.”

“No,” y/n had said before getting a glass of water.

“I’m sorry,” James said.

“No, you’re not,” Y/N answered. “You got it your way, didn’t you?”

“I just want the best for you,” James said. “Have you talked already?”

“About some things,” y/n said. “But it’s none of your business, as you said it before, it’s like Clark for you, Tom is mine, and my relationship is mine.”

“So there is a relationship?” James asked.

“There’s a hope for one,” y/n said. “And yes, I fell asleep on him, and yes, I keep kissing him but I simply want to, alright?”

As soon as Tom had woken up and walked up to them, probably sore from the couch too as he was stretching out his arms, y/n ran over to him and gave him a passionate kiss, probably a very dumb way to prove to her brother that she was being rebellious.

And if that hadn’t been a message clear enough, she’d flipped James off before walking away.

“I’m--” Tom probably wanted to apologize to James but was still left too dumbfounded with the kiss.

“Don’t,” James had rolled his eyes.

That kind of behaviour continued, y/n trying to prove something to James.

Cherry had arrived three days before y/n’s birthday, and Clark had arrived the next day after she did.

They hadn’t had any contact with Cherry, not James at least. James was too busy exploring LA with his fiancé. It felt weird saying it.

“Fiancé.”

Y/N didn’t know Clark was in town, but as soon as she learned it, she had seemed to forget she was angry at James. She’d met Clark before, of course she knew of his existence and that her brother was seeing him, they’d met but y/n had learned from James’ pasts relationships to not get too attached because ‘James changed couple more often than he probably showered’, which was too different from y/n, and y/n, though she had noticed about Clark, and though she did mention it from time, to time, James had tried to avoid it, because he’d finally fallen in love and he didn’t know how to act around it.

Clark, however, had shown up to Harry’s engagement party, and that hadn’t gone well. Of course James was skeptical of showing his family, and the Hollands because he… Well, he didn’t want Clark to think they acted that way. Of course, that’s why he was reserved.

Tom had been the one person who had had contact with Clark.

Clark had said it to James once, “Tom is deeply in love with your sister.”

“They hate each other,” James had answered.

“No, if he did hate her he wouldn’t pay that much attention.”

Clark was right, obviously. Clark, actually was someone who liked to observe and he was the one to calm James.

As soon as Clark was in town, he had listened to James’ stress and said: “She’s been in love with him her whole life and the dude, too. And you’ve said it, y/n tends to save it all for herself.”

He was right. But James still thought that y/n and Tom had to talk about it, otherwise the chaos would come, but maybe it could wait.

But y/n’s birthday arrived.

Although the chaos was supposed to be coming, James wouldn’t have guessed it would come this way. And he wouldn’t have guessed it would come that way.

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rugbypolycule · 3 years

Text

take your hand in mine

pairing: itadori yuuji x fushigoro megumi

characters: itadori yuuji, fushigoro megumi, kugisaki nobara, fushiguro tsumiki (mentioned), fushiguro toji (mentioned), gojo satoru (mentioned)

rating: general audiences, no warnings apply

words: 1968

summary: yuuji is half-decent at painting his nails for a beginner. megumi is absolutely smitten and gets pulled along for the ride. they're both in love and clueless.

or: an intimacy fic where yuuji paints megumi's nails. because those boys deserve some quiet time.

ao3 link

Itadori Yuuji isn’t someone who gets embarrassed easily. He rarely pays attention to the opinions of others, and not for a lack of caring. He has such a strong sense of self, such an unwavering faith in his own mind that criticism often flies right over his head. On anyone else, the trait would far too-closely resemble arrogance – even self-centeredness. The pink-haired boy, however, is too gentle, too empathetic and kind. His steady confidence shines in a bright halo that threatens to overwhelm even those with the strongest defenses.

In simpler, more candid terms, Fushigoro Megumi feels like he can’t breathe when Yuuji smiles. If he were more honest with himself, he’d recognise that his feelings of breathlessness aren’t reserved for Yuuji’s full-watt smile. The truth is that around Yuuji, Megumi’s lungs work overtime. He is almost constantly filled with this restless sort of energy, the urge to act. It makes his fingers itch and his pulse lurch to his throat.

It’s a cool day. It had been overcast for a while, the clouds heavy with an oncoming storm so strong it could almost be tasted. Yuuji loves days like these. The feeling of his hair standing on end, the thickness of the air around him, the velvety grey of the sky. It is the sort of day that makes you want to stay inside with lights dimmed and quiet music playing.

Yuuji finds himself in this exact position, scrolling through Pinterest on his laptop. Ever since meeting Megumi and Nobara, he had discovered a newfound love for fashion. He loved bright colours and stark geometric patterns and shiny skin and lips. It felt fresh and energising. He loved the attention to detail that went into putting together a full outfit – the studded belts, sheer scarves, painted nails.

Yuuji loved the look of nail polish. He could wear his dark uniform and still bring colour into his life, and for cheap. Plus, going shopping with Nobara was always a fun experience. She had picked out a bright purple shade for Yuuji, but he had his eyes on a bottle bursting with golden yellow. He bought them both at her loud insistence. They ate sushi that day. It was nice.

Now Yuuji sits on his bed, yellow bottle in slightly trembling hand. His nervous anticipation doesn’t come from fear that people would think he looked weird or strange; he is more worried about messing up the application and look messy, about which Nobara often complained. The concern quickly dissipates, though, making way for Yuuji’s quiet excitement as he opens the bottle.

The breaking of the seal causes a wave of fumes to fill his room. Yuuji’s nose tickles. He sneezes a few times, coming dangerously close to spilling the yellow paint everywhere. Thankfully, his reflexes are stronger than his body’s averse reaction. He slowly lifts the brush out of the bottle, taking care to wipe off the excess varnish just as Nobara had told him. With a slightly steadier hand, he begins painting his left index finger. He moves on to the next, then the next, then his right hand (which is considerably more difficult and why didn’t Nobara say anything about that?) Though he was unpracticed, he didn’t make a huge mess like he thought he would. Save for a few yellow-tinged cuticles, he had done a pretty decent job.

For a while, Yuuji just sits back and admires his work. Nobara had told him to wait no less than 15 minutes before even thinking about using his hands. Yuuji lasts 5 minutes before looking for a cooking video to pass the time. Nothing was smudged, and Yuuji quite happily sits through more than a few videos before the smell of the nail polish becomes too much for him. It had been plenty of time now, so he doesn’t worry about messing up his nails as he opens the door to his room.

He stops short as he finds Megumi on the other side of it.

If anyone asked, Megumi was just walking past Yuuji’s room for no reason. In fact, he was only going to get water, and had to pass by Yuuji’s room in order to get to the common area. The reason he stopped at his classmate’s door at all was simply to ponder the possibility of getting a snack. There was no other motive behind it.

Sadly, all his excuses do nothing to hide his deer-in-headlights expression. Before he can open his mouth in order to deny being there on purpose, a hand is thrust towards his face. Megumi flinches back in a sort of surprised confusion before realising that Yuuji has yellow fingernails.

“Do you like them?” asks Yuuji, grinning at Megumi like an expectant puppy.

Oh. There’s that hummingbird thrum in his bones again. The rapid movement of blood that makes his head light and his breath shallow. Yuuji is beautiful.

“Yeah,” Megumi tries to answer. It’s at times like these, when he’s lost for words and doesn’t know how to move his face to seem genuine, that he really appreciates Yuuji’s personality. Almost anyone else would have thought Megumi disinterested, or worse judgemental because of his monotone and lacklustre response. Thankfully, Yuuji just huffs out a laugh.

“You don’t have to sound so excited about it, Fushiguro.” He rolls his eyes, still grinning, arm still extended. “I thought you would’ve appreciated it more.”

Megumi softly bats his hand away. “I don’t ‘not appreciate it’, Itadori. It’s cool. I’m just… thinking about how it probably wouldn’t suit me.”

Megumi gets whacked on the shoulder. “Hey!” He complains as Yuuji pulls him into his room and sits him down on the bed. The nail polish smell, not having quite left the room yet, makes Megumi’s nose wrinkle up. Yuuji lets out a giggle that sounds like sunshine on skin.

“What are you doing?” Megumi almost whines as Yuuji rummages around in his closet. Yuuji turns to face him, pulling a plastic bag out with him with a flourish. His smile hasn’t left his face yet, and Megumi feels like he’s drowning in it.

“Won’t suit you? We’ll see about that,” says Yuuji, confident as always.

Megumi tries not to splutter. “Well. Yellow isn’t really my colour, Itadori.” He says his name too softly, like he always does. He tenses up and hopes Yuuji doesn’t notice.

To his almost-disappointment, Yuuji doesn’t react. Instead, he pulls out a bottle of purple nail polish and throws it towards the bed, a way too smug look on his face. Megumi wants to kiss him so badly it hurts.

“Nobara got me to buy two,” he almost sing-songs, “so now you have to let me paint yours!”

In another reality, there is a Megumi that rips his gaze away from those brown eyes and mumbles something about Yuuji not making any sense. He leaves the room with his heart intact, and goes and eats ice cream with a spoon with his wolves in the dark.

Instead, he tries desperately to stay quiet, to suppress a gasp as Yuuji grabs his hand to inspect it. Megumi blames the tightness in his ribs on his binder and toughs it out. Except Yuuji’s hand is so warm and impossibly soft and that idiot shuffles close enough that their thighs are touching and it’s all. A lot.

Yuuji is still just cradling Megumi’s hand in both his own, turning it over and staring for so long it’s as if he’s trying to commit the skin to memory. The air is still thick with an oncoming storm, but now a tentative intimacy mingles amongst the electrified atoms. Megumi doesn’t dare move or speak, as if the universe will punish him by way of Yuuji letting go of his hand. He chooses rather to count each of Yuuji’s eyelashes, watch his nostrils flare as he breathes out in quiet concentration.

“You have really pretty fingers.” Yuuji murmurs, completely unaware of how devastating it is to Megumi’s heart.

Having been abandoned by his father, not knowing his mother, and his sister being in a coma, Megumi hasn’t been a close acquaintance to touch. Hell, even when his sister wasn’t confined to a hospital bed, he was too prickly and stubborn to receive hugs most of the time. Somewhere not-so-deep down, Megumi craves touch. Sometimes, he stares at the ceiling and wonders what it could feel like to be close to someone that didn’t involve the rigidity of training or the annoyance of Gojo’s hair ruffles. To feel warm and fuzzy and for it to be because of someone else’s hands.

Yuuji’s touch, combined with his soft words of praise, are a dream come true. Megumi can only cough awkwardly and watch as Yuuji starts to coat his short nails in purple. Yuuji’s tongue is almost the same colour as his hair, and it sticks slightly out of his mouth as he works. At some point Yuuji had turned that low music back on: a steady and slow lo–fi that does nothing to calm Megumi’s racing heart.

Yuuji keeps slowly rubbing his thumb back and forth on the back of Megumi’s hand as he glides the brush against his fingernails. It’s in all ways comforting as it is maddening, and Megumi does not expect the quiet, “you take such good care of your hands,” when it comes.

Yuuji chooses that exact moment to look into Megumi’s eyes. His face is so open and earnest and it’s becoming harder and harder to keep looking back without leaning forward into his space and just…

Megumi lets out a shaky breath. “Really? Thank you,” he replies, trying to sound as casual as possible with his pulse constricting in his jaw. His mouth feels dry.

Yuuji moves swiftly onto his other hand until all that’s left is his pinky. Not wanting to repeat the slight smudges he had accidentally painted onto Megumi’s left pinky, Yuuji pulls this last finger closer to his face, his breath fanning against it and sending shivers up Megumi’s whole arm. He finishes painting the nail quickly and carefully, but doesn’t put down Megumi’s hand.

Megumi can’t help the soft gasp he lets out as he feels a feather-light kiss pressed to his wrist. It’s as if his blood sings. They observe each other quietly for several moments – taking one another in, willing the silence to never break. Yuuji eventually pulls his face away from his work, now admiring the job.

“All finished.” Yuuji’s voice isn’t loud, but it fills the room. Megumi moves on the bed, beginning to pull his hand away. Yuuji drops his wrist in favour of grabbing Megumi’s waist with both hands, eyes almost panicked.

“You can’t leave yet!” His voice doesn’t raise above the volume of the music, but his words are emphatic. Megumi is trembling in his grasp. “You have to let them dry. And since I spent all that time painting your nails for you, it’s only fair that you stay here with me while you wait.”

Megumi is about to protest, knowing his limits are close to being reached. His face is burning hot and surely visible from the mere distance Yuuji sits away. He feels fit to burst.

The sky does before he has the chance.

The first clap of thunder sounds outside, and a pitter pattering of rain begins to thrum against the window. Megumi resigns himself to this still fume-filled room. He lies down on the bed next to Itadori Yuuji, feeling everything. He doesn’t answer when Yuuji asks if he wants to watch something, nor does he pay attention to whatever the pink-haired boy pulls up on YouTube for them.

Instead, Megumi exists in a content closeness to his friend, counting his eyelashes, and feeling the heat of Yuuji’s hands on his waist.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #itadori yuji #itadori yuuji #itafushi #megumi x yuuji #megumi x yuji #fushiguro megumi #i sure hope someone likes this!#elliot writes jjk

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hopelesshawks · 3 years

Text

Official Accounts Part 30 (Bakugo Route)- The Past

Summary: (y/n) was perfectly happy remaining anonymous, even if her best friends were all pro heroes and she worked under THE Hawks. Handling the technical aspects of hero work from the background suited her just fine, thank you very much. That goes out the window when suddenly her twitter blows up thanks Denki and the famed no. 2 hero is asking her to run his own official twitter as a result

If you don’t want to see Official Accounts content blacklist #hopelessoa

Masterlist

You knock on Katsuki’s door and it opens almost immediately. “Sorry about this,” you tell him by way of greeting. “I already told you idiot,” Katsuki replies in the soft voice he’s always reserved just for you, “you’re always welcome at mine.” He closes the door behind you and then pulls you into a hug. “Do you wanna talk about it?” he asks. You think for a long moment. Do you? How do you even go about explaining what just happened between you and Hawks without revealing secrets that aren’t yours to share? But you deserve to talk this out too. “I do I just need a second to organize my thoughts,” you finally say. “Ok how about you take a seat on the couch, I can heat up ramen for you, then when I come back you can tell me all about it,” he offers. “Homemade ramen?” you ask. “Obviously, dumbass,” Katsuki says with a roll of his eyes as he gently removes himself from your arms and then pushes you towards the couch. “Now go sit down,” he insists. You nod and give him a small thanks before heading to his living room.

By the time Bakugo returns with the promised ramen you’ve wrapped a blanket around your shoulders and made yourself comfortable on the couch. You open your arms wide in a silent request for Bakugo to join you. Although he rolls his eyes as if put upon, it secretly makes his heart melt a little that you find comfort in his touch. He sits down careful not to spill the bowl he holds in one hand before passing it to you. He then pulls you closer until you’re almost in his lap and re-situates the blanket around you both. He’s missed this. You’ve always been very cuddly with all of your friends, but for awhile after you two broke up it felt like he’d lost his privileges. Even after you opened back up to him it was never quite the same. Sure when you were upset you knew you could rely on him, but the casual intimacy you shared with Denki and the rest of your friend group had been lost to Bakugo. It was only fair. That casual platonic intimacy was a little too close to the romantic intimacy the two of you had shared when dating. You’d thought it best not to indulge lest you fall back into old habits.

He still remembers the break up like it was yesterday even though it was almost 5 years ago now. It was only a year after graduating from UA. The transition from high school to working life had been hard on your relationship. Bakugo had grown accustomed to seeing you every day during lunch and you’d frequently come to the class a dorm after classes. To go from that to barely seeing each other because of your differing work schedules was hard enough on its own but it also threw his jealousy into overdrive. Suddenly seeing you and Denki curled up on your couch for a movie was enough to have him raging even though he logically knew there was no intent behind it. He was more irritable than usual, his already short temper getting even shorter. It felt like the few times you did get to see each other there was always an argument. Eventually you’d called him after work one day and simply sighed “We need to talk after your shift is over.” It hadn’t even occurred to him that you’d want to break up and yet when he arrived at your place you promptly told him that you feared the relationship was already sinking. Continuing it, you had argued, could do nothing but drag your friendship down with it. He wanted to say you were wrong so badly but he knew you weren’t. So the two of you had ended things, slogged through a few months of it being awkward, and eventually returned to a sense of normalcy in your friendship.

All of that said, Bakugo has never quite gotten over you.

It comes and goes in waves. Most days it’s just an ignorable, dull ache, only painful if prodded. Other days though? Other days the regret is almost overwhelming. Those are the days he calls Deku. The first time he did it was a week after the break up. He probably never would have if not for the fact he was damn near blackout drunk and sad and so very alone in an apartment filled with things that reminded him of you. He had barely talked to Midoriya since graduation, so Deku was understandably confused when he got the call. “I miss her so much,” Bakugo had slurred miserably down the line. It didn’t take a genius to know who he meant and Midoriya had quickly put two and two together that you and him had broken up. “I’m sorry,” was all Midoriya had time to say before Bakugo hung up the phone. That was supposed to be the only time. In fact Bakugo stubbornly refused to call him in the days following that initial call, despite being tempted to several times. Eventually though he caved. He needed to talk to someone about all this. Keeping it pent up was eating away at him but he couldn’t exactly talk to his usual friends about it when all of them were just as close with you. So Deku was his only option. Not only that but Deku was a good option. It didn’t matter how angry or upset Bakugo was, Midoriya was always patient and sympathetic. Sometimes they’d be on the phone for over an hour. Sometimes the call would be as brief as that fateful first one had been. Regardless, it helped. Soon enough the frequency of the calls started to dwindle until they stopped altogether.

Then Hawks asked you to run his Twitter.

At first it was fine. For all Mina’s jabbering on you seemed insistent you didn’t see Hawks that way. But then everyone else was getting in on the action as well and it all just spiraled from there. The night you went on your date with Hawks was Bakugo’s first time calling Midoriya in nearly a year. He texted the group chat confirming that Hawks getting shifts covered for you was indeed a big deal and then immediately afterwards was scrolling for Deku’s contact. You hadn’t dated anyone since Bakugo and while he knew it would happen eventually the reality hurt way more than all the hypotheticals he’d come up with over the years ever did. By now Midoriya knew the drill so he didn’t say anything when he answered the phone, just waited to see where Bakugo would take the conversation. He was not expecting an invitation to grab drinks.

It was odd seeing each other for personal reasons again after so many years. Their only interactions outside of the phone calls had been through work, a stark contrast to the crowded bar they now found themselves in. They started with awkward small talk, as one does with old friends they’ve barely seen, but eventually they started to really talk and Bakugo realized that all of those times he’d talked to Midoriya on the phone not once had he stopped to hear about his life. So he tried to make up for it then, even if it was a little too late. It was kind of nice. Maybe in another life where Bakugo had been a different kid, one who would’ve taken Midoriya’s hand when he fell, one who was a little less cruel, they could’ve been best friends. “So what happened with (y/n) this time?” Midoriya finally asked and it’s a question Bakugo had both wanted and dreaded to answer. “She’s going on a date with Hawks tonight,” Bakugo sighed. “Good for her,” Midoriya had noted and immediately Bakugo’s grip tightened around his drink. “You know it is good for her right?” Midoriya asked. “I know it is. That’s why it hurts so bad,” Bakugo admitted. It occurs to Bakugo now that perhaps that is why he’s been pushing Hawks to do better by you.

He knows intimately the pain of loving you and then losing you.

He wouldn’t wish it on anyone else.

So he listens to you recount your fight with Hawks. He listens with full attention until you run out of steam. When he gives you advice he gives it as a friend, not as an ex or as the man still in love with you. He gives you advice the way he thinks Deku would. He gives you the kind of advice you’d offer him if the situation were reversed. And it hurts and hurts and hurts to know his advice might push you back into Hawks’ arms, but when you pull yourself closer to him, sigh “Thanks Katsuki,” and then promptly fall asleep on his chest, he knows it’s worth it.

Because he loves you.

God, how he loves you.

Author’s Note: I BROKE MY OWN HEART WITH THIS ONE SO NOW YALL CAN BE HEARTBROKEN WITH ME. Anyway I adore the headcanon that Bakugo is a really good cook and I wanted there to be a slight parallel to how (y/n) and Hawks would have tea together but upon googling ramen recipes I realized it would be incredibly unrealistic for Bakugo to make homemade ramen in the time it takes (y/n) to get from her place to Bakugo’s. So instead he reheats what’s leftover from cooking dinner for himself, which I also googled to confirm was possible (it is you just need to make sure you store all the components separately). ALSO writing in Midoriya was a lot of fun. As much love as I think Midoriya and Bakugo have for each other I could very easily see them as being distant after graduation but still knowing they could reach out to each other if need be.

Taglist [open]: @maltese-sparrow @someweirdshitman @oliviasslut @captaincyberqueen @ladyzayismultifandom @pixelwisp @cathy8taffy @itskindofafairything @larkspyrr

#hopelessoa #bakugo katsuki #bakugo x y/n #bakugo x reader

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just-call-me-the-intrusive-thot · 4 years

Text

Soulmate September - Day 10

Day 10 - You are born with a birthmark, similar to a tattoo, that is shared by your soulmate.

Pairing(s): Romantic Anaroceit, Romantic RemSleep, Ambiguous Poly Glasses Gays

TWs: Swearing, Remus being Remus, animal death metions briefly, implied sexual mention once I think?

–

Why was it so difficult to simply bring together two handsome, obnoxious soulmates?

How could grown men be this dense?!Virgil had been trying for MONTHS at this point to get these idiots to date, yet for some reason

Instead of wanting to date each other, they both seemed far more interested in someone else.

In him.

Why, why did this have to be his life? Tormented by such stupid, handsome men?

Okay, maybe he had a teeny crush on both of them but Virgil was getting ahead of himself.

Working at the local theatre was doing some real good for Virgil; being a techie meant he was mostly out of the spotlight - so no chance of any performance anxiety - and it meant he had to actually wake up and be a functional human being but was flexible enough that he could call in sick pretty easily if he needed a mental health day.

Thankfully, things had been going well until Virgil looked down from the catwalk to note that the two best actors in their troupe, Roman Prince and Janus D. Lyre, both bore each other’s soulmate markings. Both on the backs of their necks, all too easy to miss. Ever since, Virgil had been trying to subtly get them to realise they were soulmates. Of course, given the intimacy of the soulmate marks, it would be entirely outrageous for Virgil to simply tell them they were soulmates; social etiquette wasn’t his forte, but his anxiety really didn’t want the possible shunning he might receive if he broke that rule. Knowing that Janus and Roman were often together for rehearsals and were similarly self-obsessed, Virgil assumed getting them interested in each other would be a piece of cake.

And yet. Somehow. The man they were both interested in was Virgil himself.

Every time he tried to get the two talking, Virgil wound up being flirted with or found himself stuck between two arguing idiots. If anything, Virgil wondered if his interfering had made things worse. Now instead of kidding and being perfect and gorgeous together, they were absolutely straight up enemies. Janus did his best to interrupt - and one-up - Roman’s stellar attempts at flirting, and Roman often tried to out shine Janus by giving Virgil anything from his favourite chocolates to gothic black roses to new headphones.

Not that Virgil didn’t secretly love being the object of their mutual affection, if anything it gave him hope that perhaps whoever his soulmate was would dote on him just as much. But just like his non-existent soulmate mark, this just wasn’t meant to be. He still wasn’t sure why he didn’t have a soulmate mark like everyone else; even his ace and aro friends confirmed they had soulmates too, so why was he skipped over? Probably because no one would ever want to be his soulmate.Yeah. Probably.

Virgil was lost in that downward spiral when Remus leapt off of the set he was painting and landed just shy of crushing the poor emo.

“Wow you look like shit,”, the trash rat greeted, sitting and slinging an arm around Virgil before he could protest, “Are the girls fighting again?”

Virgil tried to stifle a snicker. It’s a stupid meme reference, Virgil, don’t laugh.

“Of course it fucking is, when is it not?“

Remus nodded, though he looked more bored than sympathetic, “Well, how about I offer you some advice, my good bitch?”

Virgil squinted at him in both annoyance and suspicion. “If it’s going to get me arrested, it’s a solid ‘fuck no’.”

“Relax, asshole, it’s totally legal and requires zero body bags and or falsified witness statements!”

Well. That’s about as good as they’re going to get. Virgil huffed, “Fine, give me the deets, Ratman.”

Remus snickered at the old nickname; A decade had passed but still the memory of the two of them graffitiing their high school gym with their tags on their last day still lived on.

“Alright, Stitch Bitch, here’s how you do it,”, Remus ignored Virgil’s eye roll and continued, “Ask them both on a date, same place and time. Talk about your interests, since you’re probably not gonna actually have that much in common, then you can just reject both of them! They’ll be driven into each other’s arms, or some shit. You know what they’re like, they’re dramatic as fuck. It’ll be perfect.”

Virgil wasn’t amused, “But what if they don’t? What if I just end up breaking both their hearts and they wind up all depressed and-?!”

“Then it solves your problem anyway, dipshit.”, he rolled his eyes, “Jeez, you’re worse than Roman with the dramatics! Think of the middle ground, you turn them both down, they go home sulking, but they’re big boys! They’ll get over it and get together some other day! Big deal!” Remus affectionately ruffled Virgil’s hair and didn’t stop until Virgil all but threw him off, “Alright, alright, fine! I’ll try, but if it all goes wrong, you’re helping me pack to move across the fucking globe.” “Ooh, alright! Or I can hide your body if it goes REALLY badly! I know how to make sure the police never find it, after all! Did you know you just need to bury it vertically and put a dead animal on top-”

Virgil tuned him out, already trying to narrow down locations for dates in his head. He’d need to pick somewhere both Roman and Janus would agree to go. He didn’t exactly doubt either of them would turn him down, but he needed to be sure they’d both attend. Perhaps the local restaurants would be a good place to start? It’d be easy to Mrs.Doubtfire that shit. Minus the clothing change, of course. Maybe the Golden Palace might be a good idea? It’s bougie enough for Roman, classy enough for Janus, and if Virgil got lucky enough, perhaps they’d both be the ones to pay for dinner.

“...And so I told Roman about it and then Roman tells me “Remus, you dunce, you got arrested because you were caught carrying a dangerous weapon in Starbucks” but I personally think that cop was just an asshole. I mean, it was just a baseball bat for fuck’s sake, so WHAT if it had a few nails in it-”

The techie noted that Remus was still babbling to himself so he clicked his fingers just shy or flicking him in the ear,

“When’s Roman free? I know Janus is pretty flexible-”

“I’ll bet.”, Remus snickered. “Dude. You have your soulmate, don’t be a dick.”

“Hey, that doesn’t mean I can’t mentally rank every guy here on how bendy I think they’d be in bed-”

“THAT ASIDE.”, Virgil interrupted, rubbing his temples like it would squeeze out the horrible mental image and several questions he never wanted answers to, “I’ve nailed down the where, I just need the when. Janus is free most days, but Roman’s pretty enigmatic about that shit. Do you know if he’s free tonight? Might as well get this shit over with.”

Remus mulled it over, “He should be. But you should probably just ask him first then Janus. Y’know, save yourself the trouble.”

Ah. That did make sense. Virgil tried not to let it show that he hadn’t thought of that and nodded, “Right… Okay. Just, if I fuck up talking to either of them, be ready.”

“With the car or a shovel?”

“Both.”

The trashrat snickered and let Virgil stand up, giving him an ‘affectionate’ jab in the back of his knee just to get a reaction out of the techie. Virgil wasn’t sure why Remus did that sometimes, he figured it was just another one of the demented twin’s eccentricities.

Inhaling deeply, Virgil sought out Roman, careful to avoid Janus’ line of sight as he tapped the flamboyant twin on the arm. Roman spun to face him, his expression lighting up in a way that made Virgil shamefully wish that he was his soulmate. That he was worthy of all his doting.

“Virge! What can I do for you, my dark and stormy knight?”

Stop being so fucking charming perhaps?

“Uh, it’s kind of an embarrassing request, so bear with me.”

“Of course! What’s up?”

Just ask him, ignore the butterflies, he’s not your soulmate.

“I was wondering, if you’d want to go on a date with me tonight-”

Roman positively swept the emo off his feet, his beaming smile could have burned itself into Virgil’s eyes.

“YES!! YES, I’D ADORE-”

“YEP! Okay, that’s great!”, he shushed him, trying to keep things as quiet as possible, “Listen, I know you’re excited but I’m really anxious about this-”

“Nothing new there.”, Roman chuckled affectionately as he put Virgil down.

“Oh shut up,”, Virgil smirked, pushing down the sunny feeling that chuckle brought out, “Look, I’ll text you the details so can you just keep this between us? I don’t want anyone gossiping. Not that I’m ashamed of you or anything I just-”

Roman carefully halted his word vomit with a gentle caress of Virgil’s cheek, “It’s alright, I understand. After all, with such an honour, I’d do good not to betray the trust of my charming prince.”

Virgil flusteredly averted his gaze, “Hmph. What happened to your ‘dark and stormy knight’?”

“Well, if things go well, I’d hope to promote him.”

The wink Roman shot Virgil should be illegal, that thing could have killed him. The techie just gave him an attempt at an ‘oh fuck off’ smirk that came out more as a ‘fuck I have a crush’ shy smile.

No time to dwell on it, he had another stupidly handsome man to ask on a fake date.

Virgil checked with the stagehands and made his way over to the backstage dressing room area, finding Janus sat on one of the makeup tables while their dramaturg was busy going over some directions for their next rehearsal. Upon looking up and noticing him, Janus smirked - another expression that should be outright banned for it’s lethality - and politely requested the dramaturg ‘bother him another time’. They did exactly that, leaving Virgil and Janus alone to talk,

“Virgil,”, Janus purred with a voice like sweet honey, “what brings you here?”

Don’t think about that sexy voice, don’t think about that sexy voice, don’t-

“You, actually.” Play it cool, Virge. Be suave and charming. “I wanted to ask you out on a date.”

Janus’ eyes widened slightly in surprise. Virgil felt pretty proud to have finally stunned the silver-tongued gent, though he knew it’d only be a fleeting victory. If anyone would out-smooth even the most flirty person alive, it would be Janus.

With a snake-like fluidity, Janus slunk off of the table and made his way over to Virgil; whereas Roman was only an inch or two taller than him, Janus had a whole six inches at least. Virgil found it semi-intimidating, but that just made the taller man more attractive if he was being honest. Janus softly ran a hand through Virgil’s purple-dyed hair,

“That’s rather a bold request, Virgil. What brought this on, if I may ask? Not that I’m complaining..”

Virgil had to work extremely hard to resist the urge to nestle into the warmth of his palm. Not your soulmate! Stop it! “I uh, I figured I would take a risk for once. It’s alright if you don’t wanna-”

“No.”, Janus interjected, the hand in Virgil’s hair sliding under his chin to lock their eyes, “I’d very much like to go on a date with you. When and where?”

Virgil swallowed nervously, “The Golden Palace, tonight? I’ll um, I’ll book the table and text you the time-”

“Perfect.”, Janus smirked, gently releasing Virgil. He hadn’t realised how much he’d been subconsciously leaning into Janus’ touch until he almost felt himself sway. “I’ll be sure to wear my best suit for you. Really give you something to blush over.”

Shit.

Virgil had no rebuttal, he simply nodded and hastily headed back to his usual breakspot to work out just how he would survive tonight…

It turned out the answer was simple; he wouldn’t.

Thankfully Virgil had settled on an outfit that was just the right mix of fancy and casual; his black leather jacket hugged his shoulders which his dark purple button up sat under. He’d gone back and forward between his options for bottoms, but in the end, he preferred his black short pencil skirt and a pair of sheer black tights that matched his black ankle boots. It was a bold choice, but Virgil felt far more powerful in that combination. Like he could kick ass and get away with it.

Virgil needn’t have bothered, however, as the second he showed up at quarter to seven to meet Roman, any semblance of confidence in his ability to control the situation went right out the window. It should have been illegal to look that handsome. A white waistcoat and pants bearing gold trim, combined with a burgundy button up shirt with the sleeves rolled? How dare Roman look that beautiful-

Oh god, now he’s smiling at him from across the room. Too late to back out now.

Swallowing nervously, Virgil returned the smile and headed over to the table he’d booked; far enough from the door for Roman to miss Janus arriving, and out of the way enough so that they wouldn’t see each other too soon. If he wasn’t so nervous, Virgil would have pat himself on the back for the trouble he went to securing two tables over the phone, but the last thing he wanted to focus on was the person on the phone’s sassy remarks as he did so. Instead, he focused on Roman politely getting up to pull out his chair for him.

“You look stunning, Virge! Did you change up your eye shadow too?”

Virgil gave an anxious nod, “Yeah, I thought maybe I’d try the purple instead of solid black like usual. Do you like it?”

Roman’s grin could’ve smothered him in the night and he’d have thanked it for the priveledge, “I love it!”

While keeping an eye on the time, Virgil let himself roll into conversation with Roman; he was surprised by not only how smoothly the conversation went, but how much they had in common. Sure, there was a tiiiiny heated exchange as to which Disney movie reigned supreme, but their mutual love of Nightmare Before Christmas and the artistic pursuits made for some wonderful discussion. It was a shame Virgil had to remind himself of just why he was doing this.

He was supposed to be making his rejection of Roman easier, not more difficult.

Finally, as 8 O’clock rolled around, Janus walked in followed by a few other smartly dressed patrons. Of course, Janus very much stood out among them wearing a black dinner suit with an obsidian waist coat and golden coloured button up underneath. His usual bowler hat had been replaced for a much fancier one with a larger brim that held a marigold flower. The sight was so enticing, Virgil had to will himself to stop staring as he got up from the table,

“Excuse me, Roman, mind if I go use the bathroom?”

Roman gave a nod and Virgil made haste towards the restroom area; thankfully he’d planned ahead and knew he could use the corridor that went along behind the bar to emerge on the other side of the room without being detected. However, a new obstacle proved to be a challenge; Janus hadn’t taken his eyes off of the door since the moment he’d walked in and removed his suit jacket.

Damn. Virgil hadn’t anticipated that.

Luckily, one of the men who’d come in behind Janus - a man adorned in an off-black suit wearing a beanie, a pair of sunglasses, and a face mask - had just come out of the bathroom door behind him. Without the time to let his social anxiety kick in, Virgil stopped the man and asked quietly, “Hey, sorry to be a bother, but if you can distract the handsome guy at that table for a couple minutes,“, he began, gesturing to Janus, “I’ll give you ten bucks, how’s that sound?”.

The man seemed to stare for a moment behind the shades then silently gestured with his hands in a motion of “more”.

Of course.

“Okay, uh, fifteen?”

More again. This asshole..

“Ugh, fine, twenty! That's as much as I can spare!”

The man shrugged and nodded, gladly taking the money and, to his credit, doing exactly as was asked. Virgil watched him approach Janus, asking for the time if the way Janus took his attention and turned it to his watch was an indication. It bought Virgil enough time to ‘arrive’ just as the man gave a thank you nod to Janus.

“Sorry I’m a little late,”, Virgil apologised, taking his seat, “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting?”

“Not at all,”, Janus assured him, smirking delightedly in a way that made Virgil’s knees feel weak even in a sitting position, “You look beautiful, Virgil, if I’d known you’d look so good, I’d have picked out an even better suit.”

This fucking guy, oh my god. “Oh shut up, you look handsome as is.”, Virgil shot back, doing his best to remain calm even as Janus leant in close to strike up conversation.

“I’m telling you, babes, he’s either a cheater or he’s crazy.”

Remy aimed the stirrer he’d been using to push back his cuticles towards Virgil and Janus, then trained it on his stoic co worker, “Look, he’s got two gorgeous guys here and neither of them have noticed yet.”

The aforementioned co worker rolled his eyes, “Remy, you have once again utterly misread the situation for the sake of needless dramatics. It’s rather obvious what’s going on here if you take the time to pick up on subtle body language clues.”

“What’s this about clues, Logie Bear?”, questioned a rather eager waiter carrying a tray of glasses back behind the bar. “Are you playing Sherlock again?”

“Patton, please, refrain from the pet names during working hours, I’ve told you before-”

“While they’re perfectly suitable and welcome at home, we must remain professional at work.”, chimed in another bespectacled man who was manning the till, “It’s fine Logan, honey, let them off the hook this once, okay?”

Patton put down the tray and wrapped their arms around the man who’d just spoken, “Emile’s right! C’mon Logan, you can’t deny it, you like the name too-”

Logan cleared his throat to throw off the peachy blush that threatened to give away his adoration for his soulmates, ”As I was saying before, it’s obvious as to what this rather anxious individual is up to. His body language isn’t that of a cheater, Remy,”, the server flipped Logan the bird, “In fact, I’d hazard a guess that the poor lad is simply attempting to work out which man is his soulmate. I read a fascinating journal that talked all about this phenomenon where some soulmates are unable to see their soulmarks and thus rely on a technique comparable to sensing one’s aura-”

“Okay so like, you think he’s trying to get a read on these two to narrow it down?”, Remy interrupted before Logan could further explore his tangent, “Well then, it’s obvious which one he’s gonna pick.”

Remy gestured lazily over his shoulder at Roman, who was currently twirling his fork between his fingers, “It’s gonna be Tall, Dark and Dumbass over there, babes.”

Logan scoffed, “Falsehood. Clearly the gentleman he’s sat with currently is a much more appropriate option.”. The server nodded his head in their direction, “All factors point to the man in black not only being the more suitable option, but his body language is far more open and receptive to our subject.”

“Subject. Christ it’s like I’m back in science one.”, Remy groaned, but continued to argue, “Besides, you’re ignoring how he’s like, totes more comfortable with my boy in white, sweetie. Look at him, he can’t wait to get away from your boy in black.“

Sure enough, Virgil had gone to switch partners again, returning to Roman with a sweetly shy apologetic gesture.

Patton piped up, “What if they’re like us, Logie Bear? Y’know, more than one soulmate?”

Logan shook his head, “Ridiculous, it’d make no sense to have such a date if that were the case.”

Remy nodded in agreement for the first time, “Yeah, either way, you’re wrong on this one, Logan. Trust me, I know what a fellow morosexual looks like.”

Emile and Logan both sighed at that one while Patton tsk’d, “Remy, come on, thats your soulmate you’re talking about! You shouldn’t be mean!”

Remy quirked an eyebrow at Patton, “Babes, have you met Remus? I love the big sap but he’s a certified dumbass with a heaping dose of cryptid.”, he opened the drinks cooler and took out a lemonade bottle, not giving a shit that the three soulmates behind him were absolutely unamused. ”Anyway, if you’re so sure over who our ‘subject’ will end up with, how about we bet on it? Loser has to work two weeks of overtime and the winner gets thirty dollars or some shit. You in?”

Patton and Emile both declined, both more focused on their work and simply enjoying the dates being had, while Logan agreed wholeheartedly, “I do hope your next two weeks are free, Remy...”

He couldn’t take much more of this.

The longer Virgil kept going back and forth between the two of them - using his anxiety to buy himself time without too much suspicion - the more he was getting tangled up in feelings he knew he couldn’t indulge. Every second with Roman made him smile, even when trading verbal jabs. Every second with Janus made him feel more bold, able to flirt back every once and a while. But this wasn’t right. Janus, Roman, they were made for each other. Not for him.

He wouldn’t get to curl up next to Roman on a cold night, watching Disney movies, baking together, or following along to Bob Ross tutorials only for one of them inevitably would start painting on the other until they were both paint splattered, cackling messes.

He wouldn’t get to dance quietly in the living room with Janus while their favourite music plays, swaying softly to his favourite Jazz music, or lazily draping himself over Janus’ lap while they read their favourite books long into the night.

Virgil stared into the bathroom mirror; his ‘dates’ had been so sweet as to compliment him, but all he could focus on was how much of a mess he felt. He’s going to break their hearts beyond repair, all because he couldn’t just tell them they were soulmates. Social etiquette be damned, why had he let it go on like this?

Feeling his chest constricting, Virgil quickly grabbed his phone and texted Remus.

V: [help. Having a panic attack. Distract me]

He tried to remember his breathing exercises, chewing his free hand’s thumbnail anxiously until he got the text notification;

R: [Cool. Did u kno rabbits eat their babies when they’re stressed?]

…. Virgil heavily regretted asking Remus to distract him.

V: [Horrifying. Thank you.]

R: [Anytime, Stitch Bitch. Now what happened?]

V: [Dates backfired.]

R: [U caught feelings didnt u]

Virgil groaned and kept typing.

V: [fuck u]

R: [fuck me urself coward.]

Well at least that got a laugh out of him. Remus followed up that text before he could reply:

R: [Just go out there and tell them the truth]

V: [nope, no way, they’ll hate me]

R: [Bitch they’re both smitten w/ u it’ll hurt but they’ll live, they’re sat there worried about u]

V: [how the fuck do you know that?]

R: [Remy’s on shift tonight, he and Logan are taking bets on how things will pan out. They’ve been texting me non stop.]

That did explain a few things. Namely the one server with the sunglasses and sassy attitude who gave him and Roman extra desserts “for like, the cutest couple in this bitch”, and the other more stoic server who brought him and Janus a bottle of champagne “to celebrate a wonderful partnership”. When would his life stop feeling like a goddamn circus?

Virgil was pulled from his thoughts as his next text sent his blood running cold,

R: [u might wanna get back to em, they’ll be worried about u by now]

Dammit. Virgil had just left the bathroom to be met with a worried Roman, “Virgil, are you alright!? You were gone so long, I thought something had happened!”

Stomp down that affection you’re feeling, Virgil. It’s just gonna hurt more.

“I’m fine, its just my nerves-”

“Virgil?”

Both men turned to spy Janus entering the hallway with an expression of shock and disgust upon seeing the two of them. He promptly strode over and with surprising gentleness moved Virgil to his side,

“It’s bad enough I can’t avoid you at work, Prince, but I’ll not have you ruining our date night.”

As Janus went to lead Virgil away, Roman held onto Virgil’s hand, “Actually, Lies and Dolls, he’s with me tonight, so kindly take your delusions and leave.”

Oh my god, why did he trust Remus’ plan in the first place?! Janus smirked dangerously, “Or what, you dramatic hack?”

Roman took exception to that, and while Janus had the height advantage, Roman still knew how to be intimidating when needed, “I’ll make you leave!”

Before either of them could come to blows, Virgil got in between them. He might as well come clean,

“BOTH OF YOU STOP!”

Janus and Roman faced him, sporting stunned but ever attentive expressions. Ugh, this was gonna hurt.

“I can’t do this anymore! Yeah, I did ask you both here, and yeah! You’re both wonderful but you’re not meant to be with me! You’re meant to be with each other! Ugh, this was a mistake! I can’t-! I can’t be here, I’m sorry-!”

Virgil wrenched himself from between them, making a beeline through the tables and just getting out of the door before the two caught up to him. In the back of his mind, Virgil assumed the serving staff that followed behind were either desperate to see this unfold or just making sure this wasn’t going to be a dine ‘n’ dash scenario.

“Virge, come on, you’re not making any sense! I’m not meant to be with Janus,”, Roman assured him, rolling his left sleeve up the whole way and revealing Virgil’s soul mark, “I’m meant to be with you! You’re my soulmate, Virgil! Surely you knew-”

“That’s,”, Janus interrupted, “That’s not possible, because Virgil is my soulmate.”

Both Roman and Virgil turned to face him, watching Janus roll up his right sleeve to reveal Virgil’s soul mark in the exact same place as Roman’s had been.

To say Virgil was confused was an understatement, “W...Wait, no, that’s...”

Roman and Janus stared at each other’s soul mark then looked to Virgil, “You… really didn’t know that I- that we were your soulmates?”

Virgil shook his head, ”I don’t have your soulmarks though! It doesn’t make sense...”

He turned away, grasping his arms as he tried to make sense of all this. All his life, Virgil had looked in his mirror and wished - God, how he’d wished - to find just one mark. Something to prove that he was indeed someone’s soulmate. That the universe hadn’t forsaken him. And now he had two of the most wonderful men he’d ever met sporting his soul mark while he had nothing to reassure him this wasn’t some cosmic fluke?!

Janus and Roman stood in awkward silence, the latter giving the servers an apologetic look and pulling out his wallet to pay when the former noticed something about Virgil that had him squinting to get a look. “.... Virgil, do forgive me for this.”

Without hesitating, Janus whipped out his pocket knife - why he brought it on a date, Virgil had no idea - and cut a hole in the back of Virgil’s tights, careful to avoid his skin.

“What the FUCK, Janus!?”, came the obviously horrified reply, only for Janus to take a picture with his phone and hand it to Virgil, rendering him speechless.

Sure enough, there on the inside of his right knee joint was Janus’ soul mark.

“I just happened to spot the same shade of yellow showing through and, well….”

He didn’t need to finish, Virgil was stunned to silence. All this time, how could he have missed it!?

Well, it wasn’t in the easiest to see area, and come to think of it, his mirror was a little too high off the ground for that kind of angle, and with the marks being so small..…..

The revelation was met with a shocked gasp from Roman.

“... Virgil, may I-”

“I’ll just take them off, fucking hell!”

Both men turned away to let Virgil remove his shoes and tights in peace. When he gave them the all clear, Roman was ecstatic to note his own soul mark adorning the left knee joint. Virgil glanced towards his two soulmates, letting out a soft sigh of adoration at their delighted faces. He was feeling a whole rush of emotions, but right now? The last thing he wanted was to waste any more time.

“Gimme a second to pay these guys,”, Virgil gestured to the gaggle of servers set in various expressions of celebratory delight, “Then we can go back to my place and have a movie night.”

Roman and Janus offered sweet smiles to their soulmate; that sounded like the perfect end to a wild night.

---- Bonus (Because I got attached to this universe, fight me) ----

With the cafe clearing out aside a few stragglers, Remy sighed distantly, “Well, it’s a good thing we both won, babes, I didn’t wanna get stuck with all that overtime.”

Logan gave him a perplexed look, “Actually, we both lost, therefore we both should work overtime.”

Remy pulled down his shades to glare at Logan, “.... Are you fucking kidding me? Bitch, we WON, and we get to keep our money, babes. What part of that makes you think “nope, overtime sounds better”!?”

Logan was about to go into the technicalities when he chanced a glance back at his soulmates, watching as Patton excitedly gushed over the night’s events, stimming excitedly with their apron while Emile folded his own and put it away for the night, glad to listen to Patton’s bubbly rambling. Logan couldn’t deny, the idea of staying late while his soulmates were home without him wasn’t an appealing idea. Maybe this once he’d spare Remy a lecture.

“.... You know what, you’re right. Excuse me.”

With that, Logan went to join his soulmates while Remy stifled a fond smirk and went to go ask the last patron to leave. He wanted to just go home and collapse into Remus’ arms. Ugh, he just hoped this dude wasn’t going to make a fuss. He wasn’t sure what kind of guy combined a suit, a beanie, shades, AND a face mask, but Remy just hoped he wasn’t here to rob the place.

“Alright sweetie, you gotta go. We’re closing and I wanna get home to my loveable dumbass. Let’s go-”

The man gestured to his ear. Ah. Remy rolled his eyes and leant down to speak closer,

“I said-“

The man quickly pulled down his face mask and stole a peck from Remy, a grin spreading across his face that curled excitedly to match his moustache.

“You gotta get home to meeeee~.”

Remus took off the sunglasses and beanie, revelling in the surprise that painted itself over Remy’s face. He stood up, wrapping his arms around Remy’s waist as his soulmate tried to form a sentence, “How long have you just been sitting here?!”

“Ever since I figured it’d be funny to watch Virgil realise he was trying to set up his own soulmates-”

“You- Wait, Virgil!? That’s the guy you’re always telling me about?!”

“Yep!”, Remus grinned.

Remy wrapped his arms around Remus’ neck, unsure if he wanted to strangle him or hold him closer, “...Did you know he-”

“Had two soulmates? Yep~!”

Remus chuckled and kissed Remy’s cheek, “Virge and I used to have gym together. He kept saying he couldn’t find his soulmarks, I’m surprised he never got my hints...”

Sighing annoyedly at his soulmate, Remy pulled him in for a proper kiss before he could go on more of a tangent. Once they broke apart, Remy poked Remus’ chest,

“You made me lose thirty bucks, y’know.”

Remus grinned harder and pulled out twenty dollars “Well then, I better take this generous donation from my best friend and treat you to a milkshake on the way home then...”

-----

It’s finally doooone!!

This was a long one for sure, but sue me, I got super into this one!!

I’ll be playing catch up for a while so get ready for Day 11, I ended up with a last minute change and it’s gonna be a tear jerker. @tsshipmonth2020

Taglist: @somehow-i-got-an-account @cateye-glasses @fandomsofrandom

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