#but Joe just looks and talks and acts like the most gentle person ever

[sevencardigans]

It was from today :( he looks so cute!

He’s so so cute! Like you could just sink into his hugs.

[boxblondiecoops]

You should write something about joe cooper and someone on his team! It would be such a cute idea since I saw your recent post lol 😭

- Saphari ★

Hello Saphari!!!

You're my first ask! I hope your doing amazing! Ok, I'm gonna warn you, my writing is chaotic as shit and probably scrambled as hell. I'm gonna start with bullet points and see where my brain takes us. Let's gooooooo~

It's gender neutral and mostly him having a crush but ya know.

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Ok. So based off my obsession memory with how he acts around Jenna.............. He turns into a fucking golden retriever.

Same goes for when he's with you.

Like same big blue eyes, same dopey smile. Constantly jumping up to take care of stuff you need/want. He will even tie your shoes for you without you even so much as asking.

Oh, need some water during a sweltering practice? Here's a cold bottle, just for you. It even has your nicknames first initial on the cap with a lil heart with it. Or maybe your player number.

Need a snack because you forgot to eat before a game or something? Oh, lookie, he has your favorite! Actually, he has about eight of em, just in case you need more than one pick me up.

Listen, you guys have to hang out after the games and before the games and all the time.

If you don't wanna come over, he whines and complains to Remer all the time and every. single. time. Remer rolls his eyes so h a r d.

He curls up on the couch, watching his old game and hugging a pillow WISHING desperately it was you.

He's such a lonely guy, please go hold him. He'll gladly be the lil spoon, big spoon, the fucking fork, he doesn't care. He just needs you to hold him.

So naturally you've come over and hung out (more than once) and played some Nintendo and drank some beer if you like too, but he won't push it. He's just happy you're here.

In the house, he has a designated spot on the couch JUST for you. It's right next to his but no one else can sit there.......... Except maybe the dog. MAYBE.

If your allergic or even nervous of his dog, or even the cat for that matter, he'll move them to a seperate room and keep them in there when you hang out.

Although if your allergic he vacuums like the entire house before you come over, even doing the couch.

During games, he's the most supportive dweeb ever. He cheers, like, the loudest in the dug out if your psych out hits the way you practiced. He bounces around and claps.

If it doesn't, he pats you on the shoulder and tells you it was awesome and you guys can tweak it later.

He loves you in the uniform. He won't say it................ But like he stares at you so much. You're so pretty to him he just can't not look at you. He's smitten.

You are the ONLY person on the team allowed to score with La-Z-Boy. He trusts you so, so much with it.

Now imagine you got distracted, waiting your turn on the bench, your name gets called, saying your next up and he gives his prized ball a gentle throw to you and is just like

"Go kill it!" And he's blushing a little bit and almost giggles when you smile and jog off to the pitch.

He knows you won't pop it or fuck with it. It means the world to him and so do you so seeing you use it makes him blush and lean over the railing and just watch you.

Remer definitely fucking laughs at him tho... But also highly encourage him.

"My bestie is soooo in love!" *wipes fake tear*

"Shuddup!"

If you pop a home run with his ball? He's on cloud fucking nine, jumping up and down.

Oh god, if you score the winning game, he rushes at you and picks you up, spinning you around and smiling up at you like you hung the moon and the stars and he just really fucking loves you.

He is constantly waving to you from the pitch if you aren't on the field. Like the straight arm lil wave

Please, can we talk about his eyes? He has the prettiest fucking blue eyes. He looks at you all the time like you personally crafted his favorite constellations or just handed him a signed baseball bat from Reggie Jackson himself.

Like come on. He's so fucking cute, I can't with him. Look!!! Look at him! ↷

The tension.

The tension during practice?

Especially if the team isn't there and it's just the two of you???

STOP SHUT UP

HOLD ON THE CLICHE ASS "lemme stand behind you and, like, move you in the proper way" CLICHE SHIT PLEASE TELL ME YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN.

He has game for once!!!!

He stands behind you, hands on your waist, guiding you to stand directly across from the net. He makes sure your holding the ball right (basketballs are hard for me to hold- I have small hands) and even shows you the proper follow through.

And he's fully pressed against your back because I said so and he's so warm and big and everyone talks about how big Remer is but Coop is big too!!!!!

He smiles and gives you pointers on your stance and how to aim and shit- and he's such a sweetheart about it.

Like if you miss he claps and grabs the ball and is like "oh, good try! Let's do it again, but a little bit more like this-" and shows you how to do it and adjusts you to be right.

But he's genuinely so nice about his critiques and is so sweet and is painfully and obliviously so into you and stares at your lips a lot and-

Putmeincoach

Oh my god hold on

Y'all does he have like a "call me coach" thing???

You call him coach as a tease and he smiles and shakes his head and puts his hands on his hips.

.......... Call him that in front of the team and he gets majorly flustered.

I might need to write some suggestive shit on this topic later. This is like all I got for right now. I'm only thinking dirty shit uh-

[problematicfavesareproblematic]

NSFW Alphabet- Joe Toye

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

 Ok, so here’s the 411- Joe gives it his all when y’all are fucking. He’s flipping you around into different positions, he’s gripping whatever part of your body he can get his hands so he can reach deeper faster harder better, Joe is fully prepared to do all the work. 

That being said, the boy’s EXHAUSTED by the time he’s done with you. You’re lucky if he doesn’t collapse on you in a sweaty, sleepy mess. But after he’s had a second to regroup and rally- he’s totally down for some pillow talk. 

WARNING: it’s going to be in that sexy husky voice of his, which means round two is imminent.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

 Ok, so our Joe’s hot. Like, really hot. He is fully aware of how good he looks- sometimes to the point of arrogance. If he had to pick just one part of himself, it’d probably be his arms. He likes knowing that he can always fight his way out of a sticky situation, but what he really likes is how your hands feel when they clutch at his biceps while getting sexy. (He also really gets soft when you run your fingers up and down his arms/forearms while sitting around and talking with the guys shh shh shh)

On you? Your hands- this boy never thought of hands being sexy until he watched yours dance across a map while discussing plans of action. His eyes followed their motions like a moth follows a flame- and when they touched HIS HAND for the first time? Boner city. Population: this guy.

 C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

MESSY BOY. OH MY GOD.

He’s BIG into marking you, and if you gave him the ok (he always checks first) he’d gladly paint you in it (he gets very caveman when it comes to marking you as his ffs what a horndog). 

But if you aren’t into that? Not a problem. Simply seeing his cum on your hands (which we’ve established he’s super into) is enough for him. Inside of you works too, FYI. He’s very accommodating.

 D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

 He once secretly got off in class while watching you disassemble and reassemble your rifle. Your fingers moved so fast and confidently that he couldn’t help but wonder what ~other~ confident things they could do (his mind instantly pictured you fingering yourself and he’s only a little bit sorry about how depraved he is). He’d kneaded the heel of his hand against his cock under the table and to this day he has no idea how he wasn’t caught.

 E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Experienced is a good way to describe Joe, bc in cruder company he’d be called a fuckboy. He’s had more partners than the average Joe (lol sorry) but not nearly as many as someone like Tab or Nix or Liebgott have had. He just lived a full-ass life and, due to him being a stud, he’s never been wanting for company.

 F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

 Anything with him on top is his comfort zone. He likes feeling in control, and he really likes being able to see how good he’s making you feel. 

Bonus points if he can grip your neck a lil bit.

 G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

 Joe is goofy in the sense that he likes to tease you, maybe antagonize you a lil. He knows that you get off on it- that you like when he points out how good he’s making you feel, or lightly chastising you for how quickly you’re going to cum. He doesn’t mean it, and if you were ever to tell him to back off he’d be totally down.

 H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

 Dark, curly, trimmed but not ~groomed~, you know?

 I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

 Personally, He seeks to establish intimacy during the afterglow, curling around you once the sweat has cooled and your breathing has evened out. Face touches, greedy but sweet kisses? Joe Toye’s your guy.

HOWEVER!: If he thinks you could use some during the act, he’s game. If you ask for it? HE’S WHATEVER MORE THAN BEING GAME IS. Get over here, hot stuff.

 J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

 He does it whenever he feels the urge. It’s not a huge deal for him. 

He’d prefer sex with you obviously, but if you’re not feeling it or it’s not a good time then he’ll take care of himself. In a perfect world, you could both do some mutual masturbation. He absolutely thinks of you while he does it, tho.

 K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

 Choking kink. Wow wow wow. Nothing extreme- he doesn’t feel comfortable cutting off your airflow or anything, but a hand around the throat certainly adds a nice primitiveness to the experience. 

If you choke him, however: different story.

Joe finds that EXTREMELY hot. Oh my God. It plays into his weird obsession with your hands/touch. It reminds him that you’re just as into him as he is with you, and he is a big fan of you getting a lil rough with him now and again. 

Pin him down by his throat as you ride him? He’s done for.

 L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

 Any time, anywhere- as long as he can be sure that you won’t be interrupted. There are exceptions to this (see Risk). 

 M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

 Little touches from you can really get him going. Lacing your fingers with his as you both ride in a truck from location to location. Your eyes finding his as you talk business with someone else. The gentle scratch of your fingernails through the shorter hairs at the base of his skull. You also get a certain look in your eyes when you’re feeling frisky, and the moment he sees that, sexy with you is all that he can think about.

 N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

 Doing anything to you that leaves more than a bruise. Hickeys? Awesome. Speckles of bruises on your hips from where his fingertips dug into your skin a bit too hard? Hot.

Deep shadows around your throat left behind from him holding you a little too hard? NO NO NOPE THAT’S NOT OKAY.

It reminds him too much of violence, of someone trying to escape the touch of another and being denied freedom. Once, a German soldier had tried to choke you out so you wouldn’t alert anyone of his presence and Joe. Fucking. Lost it. His brass knuckles were nearly fused to his skin by the time Joe was done with them.

Tl;dr- deep marks on his girl? He’ll kick someone's ass. He’ll kick my ass. He’ll kick his own ass

 O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

 He’s a fan of both! When he’s going down on you, he’s all about results- what will get you off the quickest and hardest. Overstimulation King (but in a good way).

When you go down on him and make a point to draw the process out as long as you possibly can, he just about cries with need. He’ll beg you to give him more so he can finally cum, but secretly he’s hoping that you’ll keep edging him bc dear god you’re so beautiful and evil and wow your nails scratching down his stomach feels good.

 P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

 FAST. Like I said before, he’s all for getting you off quick and hard. He likes the feeling of his muscles trembling with exhaustion as he pistons into you with ruthless speed, likes the way it makes your body shake and bounce and sheen with sweat. He really likes being able to just fall asleep with you afterwards, so his goal is to tire out the both of you.

 Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

 Ok, so here’s the thing- before you, most of his sexual history could be considered quickies. He didn’t like the idea of lingering too long after doing the do, so a quick fuck in the closet of a bar was his bread and butter. Remember: the quicker the better.

But since you, he’s decided that he’s good with both quickies and...slowies(?). If he’s feeling frisky while you both are out or just about to go out or in any sort of time crunch, he lets you know by coming up to stand behind you and wrapping his arms around your torso, gently pulling you back until you can feel his hardening cock against your backside. 

If you rest one of your hands on his forearm and squeeze it- then you’re not feeling it rn and he backs off (or excuses himself to take care of it bc he’s practical like that). If you lean back into him or turn your head to the side so he can kiss your cheek- it’s go time. Meet him in the bathroom, bc someone’s about to get their world rocked.

 R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

 JOe is fine with public sex as long as he knows/can predict who or what could possibly figure out what the two of you are doing. And even then, it’s going to be sneaky. You sitting on his lap with his dick in your pussy? Nice. pretending to lean over and whisper something to you while sitting at a booth (but actually fingering you? Dope.

He’ll basically go as far as you let him, but his big thing is not letting the two of you get caught by someone who will hold it over your ehad. Do’t fuck with his girl.

 S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

 Two and a half rounds- he always starts with getting you off with his hands, thigh, tongue (that’s the half round), then he cranks out the next two fast and unwaveringly. Ideally, the outcome for him is two orgasms for him and three for you. Bonus points if he can wring four out of you, but he’s not going to push it.

 T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

 Probably didn’t own any of his own, but if you have a vibrator or something he’ll definitely use it on you. Would probably consider letting you use it on him, but only once he’s used it on you a couple times.

 U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

 Not very much in terms of edging teasing, but verbally he can be very antagonistic. 

 V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

 Loud and proud, but tries to keep the sounds in for as long as he can. You can always tell when he’s close by how vocal he’ll become. Huge whiner whenever you suck his cock or give him a handjob, bc you are so perfect and wicked that it literally overwhelms him.

 W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

 Has at least one copy of the Kama Sutra. Bill gave it to him as a joke gift but Joe absolutely uses it for inspiration.

 X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

 Average length but girthy. He’s pretty proud of it. 

 Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

 Pretty high, but something he can control. He knows it’s unrealistic to be able to fuck you whenever he wants (bc otherwise, you’d never leave his bed), so he’s able to channel that desire into anticipation for the next time he gets the chance to fuck you.

 Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

 SO FAST, OH MY GOD. But he doesn’t sleep long- it’s more like a power nap and then he wakes up and helps you clean up/cleans you up himself and then gets cuddly. Then he sleeps again. What a nerd.

~ ~ ~

taglist: @sunsetmando​ @ricksmorty @now-im-a-belieber​ @tvserie-s-world​ @holdingforgeneralhugs​ @mrseasycompany​ @itswormtrain​ @mrsalwayswrite​ @happyveday​ 

[youareinlovees]

LA Lockdown (submission)

(um hi, hope you don't mind me submitting this to you but I got inspired to do some ~creative writing and Nat got deactivated 😭)

May 2020

It’s a beautiful day in LA. Joe sits at one end of the couch on the outdoor terrace, absorbed in his book. Taylor is sitting at the other end, looking out at the view across Beverly Hills and occasionally looking at her phone, her feet up on the seat and her legs draped across Joe’s lap. It’s an idyllic scene. Lockdown might be boring him stiff, with all his upcoming acting projects being pushed back indefinitely, but he knows that he does have it pretty good.

Joe gets distracted from his book by the sight of his phone screen lighting up with new messages in the Frosty Crew and partners group chat. Picking up his phone, he sees that Jesse has sent a link to a Reductress article entitled, ‘Have you made the Bon Appétit focaccia yet or do you live with someone you can fuck?’

He chuckles, but before he can respond, another message pops up in the chat.

Taylor: Not to brag but some of us have managed to do both

She looks across from the other end of the couch and smirks at him. In response, he taps out a message of his own.

Joe: And it was thoroughly enjoyable Joe: Orgasmic one might say Joe: I am of course referring to the baking that Taylor did yesterday

Taylor: Aw baby I didn’t know you liked it that much Taylor: We can have it again later if you like

Joe: Later? That’s an awfully long time to have to wait

Jesse: do you two know you can just text each other directly if you want to schedule sex?

Taylor slides her legs further across Joe’s lap, intentionally rubbing herself against his groin and shuffling closer to him. He grins, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her in so he can press a few light kisses to the side of her neck.

Billy: Text each other? She’s probably sitting in his lap right now.

Joe momentarily pulls away from kissing down Taylor’s jawline to add a final message of his own.

Joe: Oh shit, busted Joe: Billy you need to stop spying on us through the security cameras Joe: Anyway I’ll talk to you lot later

Taylor tugs his phone out of his hands and puts it down next to her own on the table, her eyes sparkling. ‘Now that you’ve finished telling everyone that we’re about to fuck, can we actually get on with it?’ she teases.

‘Hey,’ he says, looking straight into her hypnotizingly blue eyes, ‘I think you’ll find you’re the one who started it, actually.’

‘Excuse me, Joseph, but which one of us was too impatient to wait until later? It’s only the middle of the day. I would have been perfectly content waiting until after whatever movie you’ve picked out for us this evening.’

She’s a vision, her messy hair falling across her shoulders, dressed in an old Rolling Stones t-shirt and a comfy pair of short shorts that cling tightly to her ass. They’d played a game of tennis earlier and he certainly hadn’t been complaining about the view whenever she bent down to pick up another tennis ball. Now, he runs his hands up under her t-shirt, over her stomach and round her back.

‘Well,’ he says, pretending to be disappointed, ‘if that’s how you feel, I guess I’ll go back to my book.’

‘Don’t you dare,’ she says breathily, straddling his lap properly and grinding into him. He takes one hand out from under her shirt and pushes it into her hair instead, pulling her head firmly down towards his until their lips meet.

They kiss passionately, desperately, Taylor moaning into his mouth, breaking apart only to pull off each other’s t-shirts. She’s still moving back and forth on his lap and driving him wild. He’s almost fully hard by this point, and suddenly he stands up, taking her by surprise. She’s still wrapped around him, her long bare legs encircling his waist.

‘We’re going back to bed,’ he says firmly.

They could just have sex where they are, or on one of the many other couches downstairs - they’ve done it plenty of times before - but he has a sudden urge to show off to her a little, give her a practical demonstration of the benefits of all the working out he’s been doing during lockdown. He carries her through the house and up the stairs to their bedroom as she bites his earlobe and kisses his neck in a very distracting manner.

He lowers her onto their bed, climbing on top of her to kiss her again. ‘You’re still wearing far too many clothes,’ he murmurs into her ear. She shivers in anticipation - he knows how much his voice turns her on when it’s right in her ear like this - and lifts her arms above her head in response, allowing him to pull her sports bra off and turn his attention to her breasts, licking and sucking at her nipples. She gasps as he aggressively sucks a hickey onto her underboob, pushing her hips up against his body in an effort to seek out some much-needed friction.

‘Joe, please,’ she begs. ‘Enough with all this teasing, I need you now.’

He smirks, pressing his hips firmly down into hers, stopping her grinding motion. ‘Well, since you asked so nicely…’

He draws back to kneel on the floor at the side of the bed, pulling her hips towards him. He can practically hear her heart thudding in her chest as he hooks his long fingers under the waistband of her shorts, pulling them off in one motion along with her underwear. As he pushes her thighs apart and drapes her legs over his shoulders, he can see that she’s soaking wet. He decides to cut out the teasing, having made her wait for long enough already, gripping her hips and going straight for her clit.

The sound she makes in response is almost enough to make him come then and there, but he’s made of stronger stuff than that. As he continues, he can hear her breath catching in her throat, feel her perfect thighs tightening around his head, her body squirming under his attentions as she gets closer and closer to orgasm. Before long she’s coming, her whole body shuddering and her back arching off the bed as she moans out uncontrollably, ‘oh, Joe.’

He works her through her orgasm until eventually he looks up from between her legs to see her lying with her head thrown back, breathing heavily, hands clutching the sheets on either side of her, and a blissed-out expression on her face. She’s radiant, the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, and he feels a surge of satisfaction at being the only person allowed to bring her to this state.

‘Fuck,’ she mumbles deliriously, her cheeks flushed red. ‘That was so good, babe.’

But they’re not done yet, because he’s as desperate for her as she is for him. Pulling his sweatpants and boxers off, he climbs back onto the bed and hovers over her, repositioning them so that her head is on the pillow now. Taylor whines softly as he pushes into her, clearly still sensitive from the high she’s just had, so he starts off at a gentle pace. She feels so so good around him, and he nuzzles into her neck and groans softly into her ear. He loves feeling connected to her like this, their bodies intertwined and her hands in his hair. He lifts himself back off her slightly to look into her eyes.

‘s okay,’ she whispers to him, ‘you can go harder.’ He notices her gaze lingering slightly on his arms, which have bulked up noticeably in the last few months. He suppresses a grin. If that’s what she’s after, that’s what she’ll get.

Without any warning, he grabs her wrists and pins them above her head, thrusting into her with a newfound aggression. She moans, her mouth falling open and her eyes rolling back as she hitches her thighs up higher around his waist. She writhes in pleasure underneath him as he hits her spot, taking advantage of the new angle to penetrate her more deeply. With her hands restrained, she can only tighten herself around him and respond to every stroke by undulating her hips up into him. ‘Don’t you dare stop,’ she gasps, ‘I’m so close, Joe.’

The desperation in her voice turns him on even more. He can feel himself getting close, so close, and he quickly moves one of his hands down to her clit, repositioning the other one so that it’s still pinning down both of her wrists. ‘Are you going to come for me, Tay?’ he asks, his voice low and commanding. The combination of his fingers, his relentless thrusting, and his voice pushes her over the edge for a second time, and he feels her whole body shaking and clinging onto him as she comes hard.

The sensation of her body clenching around him is enough to make him explode as well, and he collapses on top of her, finally releasing her hands. She winds her arms around his shoulders and through his hair, which by this point is a complete mess, as he lies with his head on her chest, both of them slowly getting their breath back and letting their heart rates come back down to normal.

Joe can feel Taylor smiling against the top of his head. ‘Sorry for tearing you away from your book, babe,’ she says cheekily. ‘I’ll have to make you some more of my - how did you describe it? - orgasmic focaccia to make it up to you.’

He laughs at her silliness as they both get up to look for their clothes. ‘That’s okay, love, you’re good enough to eat on your own.’ Taylor snorts and pretends to smack him on the arm with her shorts, but she can’t resist replying, ‘In that case, maybe I can arrange a special dessert for you after dinner tonight.’

[andromeda612]

Renga Fantasy AU

I've seen lost of fantasy Au's with Langa being the prince and Reki either the cute gardener, the adorable captain of the army, or any other common role that will be the prince's love interest... but what about Prince Reki?

I can see it like this:

Joe is the head of the cook and Reki's paternal figure number #1.

Cherry is the first advisor of the royal family and Reki's paternal figure #2.

Shadow is a guard and probably Reki's main bodyguard, he acts like he is annoyed by Reki's too energic and loud personality but in reality he is a big softie and has a weakness for the young and gentle prince, he is Reki's older sibling figure.

Miya is the son of a noble family, probably training for either being court sorcerer or knight, he is Reki's closest friend despite being younger, he sees Reki as his old brother and is very protective of him because in his opinion (and in everybody else's opinion for that matter) the redhead is too nice for his own good and someone needs to take care of him for god's sake! Of course he will deny it for ever and still be the tsundere he is.

Langa can be the son of a merchant and a doctor from another kingdom, after his dad dies his mother decides to go back to her home in the Kyan's kingdom (Okinawa), because of her reputation as a good doctor she gets a job in the palace as court physician. Langa stays with her at the palace and he could be either training for knight, physician or maybe sorcerer too but he hasn't decided yet, or even training for advisor under Cherry's wing. For the time being he just study with Reki.

Now in this au's Prince Langa main trouble is he feeling lonely or incomplete, Reki being the sun he is complement him and his trouble is of course his self confidence, I want to keep it that way even if Reki is the prince now.

So Langa feel not sad anymore but definitely off since his dad died, he used to love traveling with him, try new things, he loved the most all the things he could learn from the items he got to sell, he wanted to be a merchant like him but now he is not sure anymore, that's why that for now he is just studying along with the prince as he decides what he want to do with his life, he is not unhappy but he can't help but feel there is something missing, that's it until he meets the ray of sunshine that is Prince Reki, the royal is gentle and unlike other royal member he has met (due both if his parents jobs) he doesn't treat the rest with superiority, he traits everyone the same, with kindness, a warm and genuine smile, he actually doesn't act like how he was taught princes are supposed to act, he is loud and very energetic, he is polite and all, but he doesn't emanate an aura of someone to be afraid off or someone you feel intimidate with, he makes you feel like you are with a friend, he will talk and talk enthusiastically to no end... unless you show him you were bored, which was not rare to happen, with the prince being too kind and easygoing is was easy for others to forget he was the prince. But Langa could hear him for hours and never get bored, Reki showed him the palace and different places of the kingdom, he show him his drawings, all his crafts, the prince was incredible with smithy, he designed most of the best warriors' armors, as well as some of the innovative artifacts that helped so much in the kingdom, he showed him his passion for his realm and his passion for his hobbies, he was amazing... it's such a shame the prince is not capable to see it himself.

Reki for his part, he is the genius, creative sunshine we know. He is energetic and almost all the people loves him. Almost, because there is still the royal and nobles assholes that think he won't be a proper ruler because of his personality. As well as the people that get fed up with his energy. Those all are the people less liked in the kingdom. Though is really a trouble that the royal ones hold such power, because they really chose violence when it comes to Reki's self confidence. Especially because the most deep root for his insecurities comes from no other than his passed away father.

The king was... not a good man, the kingdom was not in ruins but the people were not happy, his family was not either, he would lash out to his wife and daughters, telling them they were good just to show of, to serve him, he was abusive with this staff on the palace and to his people, but who got the worst treatment was the young prince, since a child Reki was unquiet, loud, energic, totally the opposite to a centered, reserved and serious prince, he was also too kind with everyone no matter how much he told him he was above all the people, but Reki refused to be rude or mean to anyone, the only people that he lashed out to were the rude and cruel royals that abused of their power and were mean to people with no status or power. The king ruled with an iron fist and with stronger severity he tried to rise his heir, but Reki's golden heart was always stronger, however it didn't protected him from the abuse, the hard punishments and the constant reminders of how a failure he was, how he was worthless, how he was a mistake, how easy it would be for him to replace him if not were for the fact he needed a boy of royal blood to be his heir and he had no one, how annoying he was, that there was something wrong with him. And all the people that thought the same as his father had no seconds thoughts to remind him of the same in every. Single. Opportunity.

It was such a relief when the king died from a mysterious illness, and if anyone ever thought about it as a coup from the queen and the royal staff? Well nobody blamed them, but that was just a rumor and they were fine without him anyways.

Indeed, after the king's death the Kingdome went through a prosperity that haven't been seen in years. Despite what the king and his lackyes believed the Queen was actually a very well skilled ruler, she fixed the mess her former husband made and bring a new era to her people, she made new allies, she cleaned the corrupted government and brought new opportunities to the kingdom of Okinawa, the people were happy again. And her son, his ideas for artifacts to make certain tasks easier, his enthusiasm about cultural development, not mention that despite what his father said Reki was really smart, a total pride for his tutors even if his chaotic nature gave them green hairs, also his ideas to improve the army of the Kingdome, his ideas helped a lot to their realm's development. Many people called him the inventor prince.

However there were some royal asses that were not happy with him, there were invertors for that, there were artists, musicians, artisans for the cultural things, a prince shouldn't be look being so friendly and informal to commoners, shouldn't be so loud and idiot.

Not to mention the people that just... were fed up with his chit chat, and okay, they get it, Reki's personality could be overwhelming and even obnoxious to some people, but they needed to be so rude about it? The fact that must of this people were royal visitors didn´t help at all, Reki just felt he was embarrassing his mother and the Kingdome, no matter how many time she and the royal advisor Kaoru told him otherwise, or the fact that those people were usually not good allies at all.

Years of abuse and constantly hearing how a waste you were are hard to heal.

But, the love and support of the people that truly loved him helped Reki a lot, it was a long path but he was getting there. Though, the person that were really close to him, and you know who these persons are, know that sometimes the thoughts gets too loud on Reki's head, but they are there for him, and are happy to see that everyday the sunshine prince is doing better and better.

Well, and then of course the boys met and all of that, they help each other to find what was missing, to discover how much loved and worth they are.

The Queen and the court physician ship them, because this is my fucking au and I say love is love, you are who you are, no labels :)

Kaoru, Kojiro, Miya and Hiromi are definitely fondly exasperate with their mutual pining and just want them to just kiss already and spare their poor souls out of their misery.

About Ad*m... I don't know yet honestly.

In one hand I'm so tempted to make him not existing in this au. On the other hand he could be a major villain, maybe a lord wanting to make coup to the kingdome with Tadashi being a spy loyal to Queen Kyan. And I really want Langa to beat the shit out if him for messing up with his sun, but well, idk.

Any thoughts about this? Feel free to ask! 👀

[lewis-winters]

Some additional dæmon!au headcanons, a continuation of this headcanon list.

Ok so I thought about it some more and decided to change Dick's dæmon from a Caracara to a Gyrfalcon. Still a raptor, but a larger one that has, historically, been used in falconry and hunting and is, in some European countries, a symbol of patriotism and national pride. Dick's daemon is a female, silver-streaked Gyrfalcon that settled sometime after college but before Fort Benning. Her name's Anahida, and she speaks like a queen. Like, literally, I imagine her voice sounds a lot like Helen McCrory's (gee, I wonder why). She's very large and eye catching, but she only speaks when spoken to-- which is rare. In a society as repressed as 1930s - 1940s America, I imagine speaking to another person's dæmon would be seen as rude or taboo. Because of that, Anahida barely speaks and thus, people often forget she's there. There are rumors too, that Dick's the son of a witch, because Anahida likes to fly far above and at a distance, farther than any human-dæmon bond should go. However, it isn't true. They just practiced a lot growing up. Dick's always wanted to fly, in some way or another, and practicing as well as testing how far they can both stretch from each other was their afternoon play time. It's weird. I know. But this is Dick we're talking about. Of course he'd do something like this.

Anahida is the only one allowed to berate Dick when he's being exceptionally petty or self-righteous. She keeps him in check. It never happens often, but it happens enough. Other than that, they're right as rain and very in-sync with each other.

Is anybody surprised that the only other person who will ever address Anahida directly is Lewis? Show of hands? None? Yeah, me too.

Liebgott's dæmon's name is Chaya and, after some pondering, I've come to the conclusion that she's a Bat-eared fox. Very chatty, too. She and Lieb are very blunt, but she's arguably the blunter one of the two. Where Lieb sometimes gives into the urge to hide or repress feelings, Chaya is willing to take more risk. She does this thing where she will boldly go one way, the way she knows is good for them both, stretching their bond even to its thinnest and most painful, just to get Lieb to finally concede and agree with her. They're both stubborn as all hell, that's the problem. Sometimes Lieb will deny himself things for a myriad of reasons. Chaya has no such qualms. She loves him, but she definitely thinks he's an idiot sometimes. It also sometimes extends to how Lieb gets really soft around people he cares about. In the wild, male Bat-eared foxes are the more nurturing of the young, while the females are the ones who go out and hunt. Kind of the same with Lieb and Chaya. Lieb takes care, he hovers and forgets that boundaries exist-- his own, and the person he's taking care of. But Chaya's the kind who remembers, and reminds Lieb that sometimes you can't give all of yourself away, no matter how much you want to. Does that make sense?

(Disclaimer: I gotta admit. The reason why I hesitated with Lieb was because I didn't want to accidentally be anti-Semitic. I grew up in a country that is primarily Christian and Muslim so I am only familiar with Islamophobic visual vocab, not so the anti-Semitic ones. I had to make sure the animals I assigned a Jewish man's literal soul to were not anti-Semitic or used in anti-Semitic imagery by Nazi propaganda in any way. So. Yeah. Um. Pigs, goats, lizards/reptiles, rats, rodent-adjacent, or any animal seen as "pests" or "vermin" were immediately struck out. Nope. Let's not.)

You wouldn't know it at first glance, but Web and his raven dæmon have a very intense love-hate relationship. Annabelle is a very act-first, introspection-never kind of thing. Web is the opposite. Sometimes, Annabelle will act before Web himself will, and she can be very, very vicious. Because of this, Web is afraid of her and Annabelle resents him. They never fight in public, they largely ignore each other, but often when they get into it... well. It gets almost... a bit too violent. Some of the others have never seen a human and a daemon hurt each other until they’ve met these two. Sometimes, Annabelle often thinks that she’s somebody else entirely, a completely different entity from Web, and sometimes, Web thinks she’s a changeling. That maybe some fae or other switched his real daemon out for this cursed one. It’s a really fractured, complicated relationship.

When they’re on the same wave length, though, they’re scary. The only thing they can seem to agree on is passionate and impulsive anger. Web will always regret it afterwards whereas Annabelle is always smug about it. They calm down after the war and they’re back home. During the war, though, they’re both a mess.

Joe Toye’s daemon is a doberman pinscher named Alessia who is just about as quiet and solemn as her human. Classic soldier daemon. He calls her Al for short. When he loses a leg, she doesn’t. I don’t think amputation in the daemon world works that way, at least not according to Pullman’s original text. Going back home with her after his amputation is easier because she’s there to encouraged him and hold him up when necessary. They make a good team. They share similar fears and insecurities so it’s easy for the both of them to understand each other and help each other through it.

Pat has a little american robin as a daemon. Which is really funny, honestly. Big tough guy like Pat, you’d think he’d have a big tough daemon for sure, but that’s not the case with him. He’s always been gentle and unassuming, Pat and so is his daemon. Her name’s  Aoibheann (pronounced ay-veen). She likes to sit on his shoulder and rarely flies far away from him. When they jumped, she stayed inside his jacket at all times, tucked away and close. The only time she flies is later on at peace time, when she knows they’re both safe and she can leave Pat for a few minutes without it being too much trouble.

Johnny’s daemon is a mongoose named Corentine, but he calls her Cora. She’s fiesty. Sobel’s rooster daemon, Julius, wasn’t very fond of her. In fact, he was downright frightened of her. It’s why Sobel won’t mess with Johnny. It’s really funny.

Perco’s daemon is in the same family. A weasel. A tiny little thing he can hold in both his hands. Her name’s Jackie. I have no idea why. But it fits.

Ralph Spina’s daemon is a raccoon. It’s adorable. His name’s Nimaphael. But he hates it and everybody just calls him Nim. Ralph carries him around like a baby on a sling, strapped to his chest. Unlike Harry and Saoirse, you can tease them about this. They’re aware it looks ridiculous. They also don’t care.

Bull’s daemon is a sun bear. I know. I didn’t see this coming, either. But I thought about it and... honestly? It fits. Not to mention Bull’s pretty big. He can carry her no problem. Her name’s Xanthia, by the way. And she’s very sweet, if only a little gruff in showing affection. She’s also not afraid to do what needs to be done. If she needs to have a go at an enemy’s daemon, then you know she’ll do it. She definitely isn’t afraid to get down and dirty. It scares the replacements for awhile, until they realize that she only does it to protect her own. 

I finally figured out what Merriell Shelton’s daemon is-- it’s a Jaguarundi. It’s a wild cat that looks to be a mix between a house cat and a mongoose. They’re fascinating and they hiss. A lot. It’s a perfect fit. Again, he name is Charlotte, but he calls her Lotte. Imagining them swaggering down the streets of 1940s New Orleans appeals to my aesthetic sense so much I cry just thinking about it.

BONUS:

Kitty Grogan’s daemon is, not surprisingly, a cat. But not a domesticated one. He looks like it at first glance, but he’s not. He’s an African Wild Cat and he’s a sarcastic little shit named Xaphania. Xaph for short. Send me a wink if you understand that reference.

[spices-and-cherries]

SFW alphabet for Joe Bang

I’ve actually been working on this bad boy for a while now. Surprisingly, some of these were pretty hard to write and required some thinking...

I did not reference race, gender, sexuality, or physical appearance. If I missed something, please let me know so I can change it!

Warning: mention of explosives and sex

A= Affectionate (How affectionate are they?)

He’s super affectionate all the time with you. He calls you ‘baby doll’ or ‘sweet thang’. He’s a believer in PDA and always has an arm around you (it’s probably more of a possessive thing than anything else).

B= Beginning (How would the relationship start?)

You’d kinda already be dating before either one of you asks the question. You were introduced by a mutual and hit it off - before you knew it you were going on car rides in the middle of the night or drinking together at Duck Tape. No matter what, though, if someone asks, Joe will tell them it was love at first sight.

C= Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Joe really loves his cuddles on the couch. He enjoys having you either laying on top of him or snuggled into his side while watching TV. He also doesn’t care if he’s the little spoon.

He doesn’t really care if there are other people around either. Joe will just pull you down with him or tug you closer mid-conversation.

D= Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

He does his fair share of the work without complaining. He comes from a big enough family, so cleaning and cooking comes naturally to him. That being said, his cooking does leave much to be desired seeing as hard-boiling eggs is his only forte... 

At the beginning of your relationship, you kept sleeping over at each other’s places so it was the obvious decision to move in with him. You help with yardwork and maintenance.

E= Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He doesn’t seem like the type to end things unless its really bad or if there’s no way around it (like you got a job far away). In all honesty, you’d probably leave him.

F = Fiancé(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

It would take a while - you’d have to be together for almost a decade before he even thinks about it. Either way, he likes things the way they are and doesn’t feel the need to hurry anything up. It kinda already feels like you’re already married. 

G= Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Joe, to put it kindly, is rough around the edges. He’s soft and careful one moment and acting tough the next. That being said, he knows his own strength and always makes sure that he doesn’t accidentally hurt you. He may act nonchalant about it, but everyone can tell he treats you differently than everyone else. 

In terms of emotions, he’s not the one you want to go to for a heart to heart. That’s not to say he can’t have one, it’s just that he doesn’t like it when conversations get too serious.

H= Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He’s a one-armed hug kind of guy, especially in public. He’s not much of a hugger. 

Joe also really, really loves it when you hug him from behind - his face lights up and he smiles when you poke your head from under his arm. 

I= I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?) 

A few months - a year at the most - will go by before he says anything. When he does say it, it’ll be out of the blue. You’ll probably be out on his porch drinking beer and talking. Joe would just pause and turn to you as he says it. It might also be while you’re causing some mischief or doing something wild. 

Joe shows his love through action and presumes you already know.

J= Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Joe gets jealous very easily. If the two of you are out and he sees someone getting a little too close to you, he’ll come up from behind with his arm around your waist or back. He’ll either divert your attention to him by whispering some nonsensical jokes in your ear to make you giggle or tell you that something’s happening and you should come with. Near the beginning of your relationship, Joe might’ve been quick to try and show off (if it worked, you’d never tell).

K= Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Joe is an all or nothing kind of guy. If you try to be cute by kissing him on the cheek, he’ll pull you to him and tell you that you hit the wrong target. That being said, he really loves it when you kiss him on the cheek - there’s just something about it that makes him feel fuzzy inside. 

L= Little ones (How are they around children?)

Kids love him, but their parents don’t. Since he’s on the same wavelength as a five-year old, it’s easy for him to connect with children. The problem is, leave them alone for half a minute and he’s trying to teach them how to light a match or make a molotov. All that being said, he doesn’t want his own kids. They’re too much of a hassle and he doesn’t think he could ever settle down like that.

M= Mornings (How are mornings spent with them?)

Cuddles and sex.

N= Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Cuddles and sex.

O= Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

He’s super open about somethings and super not about others. His family, for example, is something that he’s fine talking about and does it often. But any trauma or bad memories are things he doesn’t want to dwell on.

The first time that you did have a long heart-to-heart was on the porch of Duck Tape while drinking. The two of you were just leaning against the railing, looking at the stars, talking about this and that. Something about the air that night made it feel as though that you were the only ones in the world, so he was a lot more open than usual. 

P= Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Unless he’s in a hurry for whatever reason or just got up on the wrong side of the bed, he’s pretty chill. When he does get annoyed, he tries hard to not direct it at you, but that doesn’t always work out. That being said, you almost never fight. You’ve built up a steady rhythm and have learned how to spot the tells when one of you is not doing too good.

If he drops something or is tired, I would not suggest helping him out. He’s just fine and what ever it is, it’s nothing a few curse words can’t fix.

Q= Quizzes (Who much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

His memory is surprisingly good. It’s not the best (selective even), but not ban considering. He doesn’t remember every little thing by a long shot, but he does pay attention.

R= Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

When you took him to a tattoo parlor to get matching tattoos as a surprise or when the two of you went on an impromptu road-trip and got lost.

S= Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Joe is super protective, especially at the beginning of your relationship. As a big brother and being slightly stronger than the average man, he feels somewhat responsible for your safety. He can get aggressive if he needs to, but he tries not to, especially when you’re around. That doesn’t always work of course and you might have to keep some band-aids in the glove compartment...

Your presence alone is all he needs. As long as he knows that he can fall back into your arms, he’s fine. You don’t have to do anything - in fact just setting his eyes on you has helped him more times than you realize.

T= Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

When it comes to gift giving, he’s not very good. Like at all. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t try, but let’s just say that his brothers should be the last people he needs to go to for brainstorming... 

U= Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Those damn eggs. Also, he thinks it’s funny when he tries to kiss you while he’s all sweaty from working out.

V= Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks? Do your looks bother them?)

He’s pretty confident in his looks and definitely thinks that his tattoos make him look sexy. 

Joe loves it when you dress up for him - it makes him feel special. Besides that, though, he thinks that you can wear whatever you want to. 

W= Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

He might not at first, but that changes pretty quickly once he realizes that you’re already pulling out of the driveway. Even if you’re gone for one night, please call him. He’ll be eying his phone all day.

X= Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

He’s both spontaneous and not. Joe likes doing things for the sake of doing things, but if you’re planning on doing something, he likes to make sure that there’s an agenda. It can be super short, sweet and simple, he just needs to know that everyone’s on the right page. You don’t even need to tell him what it is half the time, just that it exists.

Y= Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He likes people who are smart and have personality. Joe doesn’t really understand why anyone would want to change themselves for others. 

He also doesn’t appreciate having his food taken...

Z= Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs? Does it change around a partner?)

He snores pretty loud and has a bad tendency to steal the blankets. Besides that, he doesn’t move around a lot and sleeps like a log.

Please send me any and all constructive feedback as well as requests! I love seeing your comments as well! Side note, I just started watching Hotel Splendide with Daniel Craig and Toni Collette. It’s good but I don’t think Craig and yoga do well together... Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading this and, as always, see you in the next one!

- Simpy

[agoodgoddamnshot]

Joe/Nicky - Nightmares [G]

Joe keeps watch over Nicky during one of his nightmares. Fluff & Angst. 

Nightmares plagued all of them. Dreams about each other stopped as soon as they met. Nicky had a nice way of thinking about it. Destiny. They’ve all been alive for far too long to believe in any god or higher force. Nothing had a sense of humour that cruel to make a person able to live forever, and then to snatch it away with no rhyme or reason. Though maybe something does, and its play with them. Maybe in some long-forgotten past life, they pissed someone or something off just enough to warrant this curse.

Maybe they’re memories. They seem familiar enough. Past skirmishes and wars, and friends lost along the way. He doesn’t like to dwell on them. Being flung awake drenched in a cold sweat and gasping for breath is enough. But one has to wonder.

His memory can only stretch back so far. Then things start to get grainy. He can’t remember the streets of his home, but he can just about make out the general shape of his mother’s face, or the smell of olive oil and garlic.

He remembers the first time he killed Nicky. And the first time Nicky killed him; which was fair, Joe did strike first. And he remembers every look and grazing of fingers against skin and every smile that erupted out of a kiss.

Nicky makes it easier. They all help each other, in their own ways. Joe talks. Booker listens. Andy offers a walk to shake the last chill of fear out of the bones. Nicky stays, waiting until the trembling stops and his heart can slow down.

He remembers the first time; blue eyes watching him through the lapping flames of a campfire, a soft frown creased along Nicky’s brow. He remembers trying to go back to sleep, staving off the cold fear that shivered through him. And his ears twitched at the sound of boots crunching and shifting gravel. A body sat beside him, on his side of their camp. Warm eyes washed over him, keeping the shadows at bay; just until the sun could peer over the nearby mountains and flood light into the cave they had taken shelter in.

Now, though, he curls around Nicky. Or Nicky rests his head on his chest, an arm and leg thrown over him, half-pinning him down to the bed, as if he would get dragged away. Warmth blooms through him then. Even in the worst, storm-riddled nights, he’s warm and safe and anchored.

For the first time in a long time, peace laps and settles over the house. Tucked away in some backstreet of Florence, they’re just waiting for Copley to tell them that it’s clear enough to break cover. After everything that’s happened, the last thing they need is eyes falling back on to them.

So they sleep. Well, most of them do. Andy is still getting used to the whole sensation of it; always having been the one to keep watch throughout the nights. But now she doses like the rest of them, occasionally surfacing at the slight creak of a floorboard or the thrill of a bird outside. When Joe glances over, his eyes soften at the blanket strewn over her, a pillow curled beneath her as she drifts further down into sleep. Nile keeps watch for the night, content enough to perch by the balcony and look out on to the sprawling terracotta city in front of her.

Two thin and worn mattresses pushed together into the corner of the would-have-been living room make up their bed. They sleep how they always have, comfortably and entangled in each other. Even sleeping, their hands clutch on to anything of the other’s that they can find; hands, arms, fistfuls of tees.

Joe breathes. His nose is nuzzled into the back of Nicky’s head. He smells clean, freshly showered and the familiar musk of the man coats the roof of his mouth and settles. He stays like that for God only knows how long. He’s content to be there, swaying in and out of sleep, the familiar scent of his partner lulling over him.

He doesn’t’ know what time it is. An ink-black sky speckled with stars stretches on outside. The first thing he sees through bleary, sleep-sore eyes is Nicky’s shoulders beginning to tremble. His scent changes. Something acrid and bitter stings the roof of Joe’s mouth. His nose wrinkles. Joe makes a quiet nose in the back of his throat. He reaches for one of Nicky’s hands, squeezing firmly. It’s alright. I’m here. You’re safe.

It tempers the worst of the tremors, but Nicky’s face still pulls in tightly, a grimace stating to etch into his brow and lips before his breathing starts to stutter.

Joe wades further into consciousness. Shaking the last of sleep from himself, he hushes Nicky tightly. Tremors. Breathing. Noise. He knows what will nip and snarl at Nicky’s nape as a nightmare chases him down. All he can do is try and chase it off. If all else fails, he can just make sure it doesn’t startle the other man too much.

A whine slips out between Nicky’s lips. And then he’s flung. Whatever had been stalking and toying with him was done with their play. Nicky’s eyes snap open, darting around the room as he tries to make sense of what’s what.

Joe shushes him. “It’s alright,” he thrills in Italian, the familiar lull of it lapping over the other man.

Nicky looks over his shoulder. Blue eyes, wide and glinted with fear, settle when they land on Joe. “Angelo,” he breathes, turning in Joe’s arms. Joe loosens them just enough for Nicky to move. The man turns and curls up against Joe’s chest, settling his ear just over his heart. A steady rhythm. One Nicky tries to copy. His own heart hammers and stutters in his chest, at fear of breaking out through his ribcage or coming up his throat.

Joe cards his fingers through Nicky’s hair. It still smells like the generic pharmacy-brand shampoo. And beneath it all, there’s a twinge of something sour. Fear. “You’re alright,” he gentles, combing hair and helping Nicky regain his breath.

Its the worst thing in the world; usually kind and gentle eyes chilled with fear. He doesn’t deserve it. None of them do, but especially Nicky. He’s too kind for what this world has become.

He still trembles. And Joe’s heart aches as he tries to soothe and gentle. He casts a quick glance over Nicky’s shoulder. Nile is watching them from the balcony. She quirks an eyebrow. Alright?

Joe sighs, lifting a shoulder. Nightmare.

Nicky’s nose buries into the hollow of his throat. Every trembling breath eventually evens out and begins to settle. The others can offer all the help they like; Joe settles Nicky and Nicky settles Joe. Each lungful of scent pulled in eases tensed up muscles and a flighty mind. So he smoothes his hand over Nicky’s shoulders and back. He cards his fingers through his hair. He hums something that might have been a lullaby from his mother.

He won’t ask what’s haunting him. Nicky will tell him in his own time. And he can probably hazard a guess as to what it might have been this time. Only because his own nights have been soured with the same heart-stopping and stomach-churning thought.

“Tesoro.”

Joe peers down. Nicky’s usual glimmering blue eyes look back at him. Behind all of it, there’s still a small glint of fear still lingering.

Joe’s heart clenches. “You’re safe,” he mumbles, the words tumbling out from his lips without much thought. They’ve been through countless sleepless nights. Nicky’s brow smoothens. Reaching out tentatively, because there is always the chance that a night terror could come stalking back. Joe brushes the backs of his knuckles over the arch of a cheekbone. “Nothing will ever hurt you,” he breathes. “Not while I’m around.”

The frown returns. Nicky’s face blanches as his hands begin to tremble.

“You won’t be left alone, caro,” Joe insists, trailing the tips of his fingers along Nicky’s jaw. “You’re stuck with me. Understood?”

Nicky’s mouth cracks open. Words try to spill out, but they catch in his throat.

Joe’s eyes harden. He will not have night terrors and evil anxious whispers breathing ridiculous ideas into his lover’s ear. “You and I are bound together,” he mutters, catching Nicky’s cheek in his palm. A soft swell of warmth blooms in his chest at the sight of Nicky’s eyes fluttering closed, and he nuzzles into the touch. He thumbs over the ridge of Nicky’s cheekbone. “I know it’s confusing and scary. But we’ll find out why what happened to Andy happened. Until then, it’s you and me. Like always.”

A long slow sigh leaves the other man. “Ti amo.” Eyes drift down and linger on his lips. It’s as natural to them as breathing; leaning forward to catch lips, sighing contently when their noses brush.

This is all either of them ever needed. Each other. And it’s the source of so much grounding; as long as he’s wrapped around the other man, he’ll be fine. As long as he has those blue eyes looking back at him, and that shy smile he tries to hide whenever Joe looks at him, everything is good.

Nicky breaks them apart, but keeps their foreheads pressed together. Their noses brush and a shared breath sits between them. Words linger on the tip of his tongue. But he swallows. “It’s ridiculous,” he breathes, nestling into their shared bed. A light laugh rattles out of him. He reaches up, skimming his fingers over Joe’s forearm. Skin erupts into gooseflesh. “I’ve had you for longer than anyone has had anyone,” he whispers, “and it’s still not enough time.”

Joe clicks his tongue. “You act as though I’m going somewhere,” he mumbles. And he isn’t. This is his family. His life has no meaning with Nicky.

The other man thins his lips. “It’s not up to you, though,” he replies, his hold on Joe’s arm tightening.

It’s stayed with him. It stayed with all of them. Eyes have lingered on Andy since they drove away from Merrick’s labs. No one mentions it, but it sits on each of their tongues.

They can die.

Joe shakes the thought from his mind. “Shh, now, caro,” he brings himself closer to Nicky. Het blooms where they’re pressed against each other. He parts just for a second, reaching for a blanket kicked down to the foot of their makeshift bed. He tugs it over the both of them, settling down with the other man with a sigh. Nicky’s eyes blearily droop closed. He clambers to stay awake – with Joe, where it’s safe – but he sinks further and further down as sleep washes over him. Joe presses a kiss to his forehead. “I’ll be right here, my love. Sleep now.”

[ocegion]

Joe hadn’t been able to read a single paragraph in his book for the last fifteen minutes. His eyes couldn’t stay on the page for more than a few seconds before they fleeted over to the other side of the room, fixing on Nicky, who was reading a book of his own. The lamp in the little, narrow bedroom in their current safehouse had a cold, sterile light that that made him look paler than usual, nearly sick. His gaze trailed on the way Nicky’s fingers twitched on the edge of the page, again and again, before they unconsciously rose up to brush the exact point on his neck where he’d been sedated, little more than 24 hours before.

He’d had a bullet come out the back of his head, and yet it was that syringe, the sensation of its prickle faded before its effect could even kick in, that had his body dealing with the aftermath.

For Joe, it was the sensation of his bound wrists. The feeling of his skin tearing and healing as he pulled and pulled as hard as he could, as hard as he’d pulled in his long life, and earned nothing to show for it but the worry he saw in Nicky’s eyes from the bed next to his.

Pain was easy to brush off at this point. Not so much what came along it.

Joe sighed, minute and silent, barely more than an exhale, and closed his book. Nicky hadn’t given any sign of having being paying attention to him, but he closed his own book as well immediately after. His eyes remained on the cover for one, two, three seconds before looking at Joe, expectant.

‘We need to talk.’

No one else would have noticed the way Nicky’s lips twitched, less than half an inch, less than half a second. But no one else had spent centuries studying that face. Joe studied it once more, never tired of it, took in the way the other waited for him to go on.

He shook his head lightly, crossed his arms.

‘So twenty years, huh?’

Nicky tried his best to remain stoic, but the edge of his lips twitched again in a far more noticeable manner now. Slowly, he mirrored Joe’s position, a slight tension giving a square shape to his shoulders.

‘A hundred years, Joe. We settled on a hundred.’

‘That’s not what you wanted. You wanted to make it twenty.’

‘What does it matter? I agreed on a hundred, we all agreed on it, and I’m going to stick with that’ the other said, voice even, the layer of frustration under his voice barely even there. ‘Do you think I’m going to sneak behind your back to send him text messages? I’m not that childish. I can commit to what I say.’

‘You’re not that obtuse either’ Joe huffed, rolling his eyes. ‘You know what I’m getting at.’

‘You expressed your opinion, and so did I. We didn’t agree at first, so what?’ Nicky’s lips thinned and he crossed his arms tighter, nearly petulant. ‘We’re far past thinking we should be of a single mind about every single subject. You know that as well as I do.’

Joe stood up, his jaw twitching in annoyance, his fingers tapping repeatedly on his bicep. He took two steps closer, more than half the distance between them. Nicky raised his eyes at him, but remained unimpressed. ‘I know that. I know you. Which is why I’m having such a hard time believing you think Booker deserved as little as that.’

The scowl on Nicky’s face faltered, and again it was just long enough to be noticed by someone who knew those features better than his own. He looked away, at the floor to the right of Joe’s feet, and shifted in his seat. ‘Booker betrayed us, he exposed us and put us at risk, and he has to answer for that. I’m not denying that, Joe, I’m not. But how can we ignore what drove him to betraying us in the first place?’ He met Joe’s eyes, his own wide open, earnest, as if honestly looking for an answer. ‘A hundred years is going to leave all of us worse off than we’re now. Leave him worse. Do you really not feel at all like we’re making a mistake?’

‘Don’t be self-righteous, it doesn’t suit you.’

‘And it’s not like I was letting it slide with an apology, like Nile’ Nicky continued, pointedly ignoring Joe. ‘Twenty felt like enough to get the point across.’

‘Nile is young and she is soft. Life will take those things from her, and I have no intention of speeding up the process. But you, Nico, you should know better than that. You know what he’s done deserves far more than twenty. That’s letting him go with a warning. A symbolic punishment.’

‘To us, but not to him’ Nicky raised. ‘It’s so much more to him. He’s barely older than Nile. He’s almost a child.’

‘A brat, that’s what he is’ Joe huffed, narrowing his eyes. ‘A selfish brat who doesn’t want to grow up because he likes wallowing in self pity in the corners saying no one understands him. And you know what? Maybe he’s right and we don’t. I don’t care. That doesn’t give him the right to drag us down with him, to resent us for daring to be happy. Don’t forget, Nicky’ he added, pointing a finger, ‘that this isn’t about him, or about getting a point across. It’s about the time we need to get past that stunt of his. I can’t speak for you, but twenty years isn’t going to cut it for me to forget he was willing to have all of us tied to a lab table being experimented on for who knows how long. We have a right to be angry.’

Nicky didn’t immediately answer, just stared for a long moment, jaw tense, and then looked down. Joe managed to stay firm for about ten seconds before he couldn’t keep the angrily stern look on his face. Closing his eyes, he let out a long, deep sigh, the frustration and roughness leaving him as the air left his lungs. He felt like a wound that had had the scab ripped off, exposing the flesh underneath, an angry, furious shade of red, but most of all tender and vulnerable.

He found himself getting into his knees, making a space for himself between Nicky’s legs as he reached for the man’s hand, meeting no resistance at all. He held it, gently, then brought his other hand around it so that he was sheltering it between his own. He kissed it once, twice, thrice, then brought it up to his face, held it against his cheek. Nicky’s thumb gingerly brushed against his jawbone, and Joe sighed again. Their eyes met, both calm this time, searching the depths of the other’s gaze.

‘I know what you’re thinking. But Nicky, you’re allowed to be angry. You know that, right? You are.’

Nicky didn’t immediately answer. He escaped Joe’s gentle yet firm eyes, jaw clenching as he swallowed hard and his lips twisted into an uneasy grimace. Not at Joe, just at it all.

‘He did what he did because he felt alone. How are we supposed to look him in the eye after leaving him on his own for a hundred years? Tell him we didn’t care he was suffering on his own, then act like nothing happened? I don’t know how I can do that.’ He stopped, waited a long moment, then added, unsure, ‘Do you think…? Have we ever given him reason to think we don’t care?’

‘No’ Joe replied immediately, gentle but giving no room to argument. ‘Andy knows we care for her and would do anything for her, and it’s not our fault Booker didn’t want to see it too. Even if it was, he had no reason to keep it all to himself and then blame us for not being able to read his mind. He’s not a kid and he’s not a moody teen, either. He’s been an adult for nearly three centuries, it’s about time he learned to act like one. That includes learning he can’t wipe it all away when he fucks up just by saying he’s sad. You’d agree with me if it was anyone else.’

It was, mostly, things that they’d already said the previous day, but Joe knew Nicky needed to hear them again, in private, calmly, from him. Needed it so he could accept it.

‘He’s our friend’ Nicky tried one last time, unsure.

‘He’s our friend,’ Joe accepted with a nod, ‘and he betrayed us both. He betrayed us all. He betrayed Andy as if she hadn’t given us her everything since the very beginning. He betrayed Nile and he didn’t even care that she’s a kid going through the most terrifying moment in her life, he was willing to have her experimented on all the same. How am I supposed to act like he deserves having his feelings taken into account over ours?’ He reached out, brushed his fingertips on Nicky’s chin, asking for him to look at him again. ‘Nicky, he had you tied to that table. I can’t forgive that within a lifetime.’

Nicky’s eyes were still cast down, his expression tense, conflicted. Joe’s thumb dragged along his chin, traced the edge of his lips.

‘He had me tied to that table to be tortured until I died. Are you okay with that? Nicolò, do you expect me to believe you’re not angry about what he did to me?’

Nicky’s eyes shot up, sharp and full of a cold clarity. ‘Of course I’m angry’ he said, and his words shook with the latent strain underneath he no longer bothered to hide. ‘I’m furious. I’m confused and I’m hurt. I swear to God that I’d kill him with my own hands if he were here. I hate him, Joe. I don’t want to, but I hate him.’.

‘Nicky, let yourself be angry. It’s alright. You don’t need to be the better person, not when he’s hurt us like this.’

Nicky brusquely stood up, taking Joe with him so he could embrace him. He wrapped his arms so tightly around him that they shook, fisted his hands on his back until they dug into his flesh, hid his face on Joe’s neck to the point he feared he’d suffocate himself. Still, all Joe did was hush him and lovingly return the embrace.

‘He heard us talk about Quynh and he said nothing’ Nicky said, the strain stronger now, making the words come out in uneven exhales of hot air on Joe’s skin. ‘He had already set us up to suffer the same way she did and heard us talk about how much we feared it and he just- He said nothing. He could have told us what he’d done, give us enough time to run, and I would have understood why he did it and forgiven him. But- He didn’t care. He didn’t, Joe, he didn’t. I can’t believe-  I wanted to hurt him, when he told us. I wanted to make him feel it, and I feel awful about it. And then I get angry because I shouldn’t be the one feeling bad. Of course I’m angry. How could I not be?’

Joe didn’t say anything, just caressed his head, kissed his temple, encouraged him to go on.

‘I just- I can’t understand it. I’m trying to, but I can’t. And all I can think of is that he must have been suffering so much and we didn’t even notice, because I can’t understand how he could be so selfish. We’re his family. We’ve tried to be, at least, but he clearly doesn’t feel that way, and I want to understand when and how we failed him so much, and if I’m angry at him then I’m not going to figure it out and I can fix nothing and it’ll be the same, so I can’t be angry, and that makes me feel worse, and I just-’

‘You can be angry’ Joe repeated, soothing, gently rocking Nicky with him. Nicky didn’t protest the interruption, just inhaled deeply and buried himself deeper in Joe. ‘You need to be angry. He’s got to deal with this shit, but we have to deal with it too. That’s not gonna happen if we don’t accept it. I know sometimes it’s hard for you to be selfish, but please, Nico, be selfish. Accept it. Tell yourself it’s okay to let him face consequences and forget about him until then. I don’t want you to still be hurt over this in a hundred years, alright? Promise me.’

Nicky didn’t say anything back, but the small nod Joe felt on his shoulder was more than enough for him. He breathed in, filling his lungs as much as they would with Nicky’s scent, still needing to make sure he was there with him, safely in his arms.

For a long, long moment neither of them spoke. Then, Joe let out a shaky chuckle.

‘I was terrified’ he confessed, his tone nearly cheerful as the hysteric tension finally left his body after having been kept in for so long. ‘I’ve forgotten the last time I felt so scared. I was terrified of them actually figuring something out and then I’d lose you. Or I’d leave you alone. I’m going to have nightmares about yesterday for years. I can’t just brush that off. I can’t and I don’t want to, and I’d like to think I have a right to that.’ He realized a tear was falling down his cheek, and he promptly let the rest follow suit. He buried his face in Nicky’s hair and let out a sound that was halfway between gasp and sob.

Nicky’s grip tightened even more, then loosened, just a bit. He waited for a long moment, waiting to see if Joe had to let any more else out, and then drew back, just enough to be able to look at his face. He cupped his cheeks with his hands, brushed a teardrop off, and came closer,  kindly pressing their lips together.

‘I was being selfish’ he muttered against Joe’s face. ‘I didn’t want to even think about it and didn’t realize you needed to talk about it. That I made you think I didn’t care. I’m sorry, Joe. I’m so, so sorry.’

Joe shook his head, denying the apology, the need for it. Nicky scowled, took air, but Joe beat him to it before he had time to complain. ‘I needed to know that you understood me’ he admitted, his smile weak but more genuine than he’d been able to muster lately. ‘Of course I know you care, Nicky. You always do. And I have no doubts about what we did. But it helps, hearing it’s just not me.’

Nicky still looked unconvinced, but he said nothing, merely shaking his head instead. He caressed Joe’s cheek agan, then pressed his forehead to his neck. He let out a tired chuckle.

‘And I say Booker’s a child. Look at me. You’d think emotion management would be something I’d have under control by now.’

‘We’re still human, Nico’ Joe supplied kindly. ‘That’s the one thing we’re never going to outgrow.’

Joe patted Nicky on the back, directing him towards the bed, and the other presented no effort otherwise. They lied down, side by side looking into each other’s eye. Their hands were joined in between them, and their faces so close that their breaths mixed, hot on their faces. For a long while, that was all they did.

‘He’s right, you know’ Nicky eventually said, barely more than a whisper. ‘We’re lucky. We’ve always had each other. If it hadn’t been like that… I couldn’t function. I don’t want to know the person I’d have become if you’d never been there. He would have done much worse things than Booker.’

‘You wouldn’t’ Joe complained, and Nicky let out a laugh before going in for a kiss. Joe’s features softened immediately, and his eyes were warm with tenderness when they parted.

Nicky had had nightmares, too, and had spent the day afraid of going back to sleep. Now, his eyes went over Joe’s face once more, taking in every inch of his skin, and had no doubt that when he showed up in his dreams that night, this would be what he looked like.

‘I’m glad we never have to find out.’

[angrylizardjacket]

i’ll be in the front row {Joe Mazzello}

Anon asked: lil prompt I thought of while doing my laundry: imagine meeting Joe while you’re both doing your laundry at a laundromat. it’s nyc, so apartments with full wash & dryer are hard to come by. joe is always running lines with himself, and you both sometimes loan each other quarters when one of you runs out.

Anon asked: tbh I don’t have anything specific to request, but I am begging you to please write more for Joe. srsly you write him so well & he deserves more content!!! 🐚 

A/N: 3269 words. my little garbage brain had to yell at me not to write this like the laundry scene from Dr Horrible. BIG FLUFF. set around undrafted. hope you enjoy. PLEASE leave feedback!! i love this so so very much omfg.

----

You always see him on Sundays, eleven in the morning, like clockwork. Dark sunglasses, fancy backpack, but nondescript clothes; sweater and jeans, baseball jersey and jeans, laundry day clothes if you’ve ever seen them. He’s a little familiar, but you’re not sure why. Sometimes he’s wearing a cap, but not with any sort of consistency, at least not in the six months since you’d been coming there. 

For the record, you’re not staring, he’s the only person who comes in at the exact same time as you, give or take fifteen minutes, and he, like you, always waits for his laundry. It’s only been in the past few months that you’d even started recognizing each other, smiling and giving the other a wave across the machines. It’s harmless, it’s people watching, it’s routine.

One morning, he’s sitting on his washing machine, with a pen in his mouth and a stack of papers in one hand. His usual sunglasses are propped up on his head, which isn’t an unusual occurrence when he reads - is it weird that you know that? Kind of. He’s highlighting something, mouthing whatever he’s reading too fast for you to catch, and anyways, you’re trying not to stare. You’re half paying attention to a kitschy game on your phone since your washing is almost done, and you heave your damp clothes into the dryer.

“Damnit,” patting your pockets again, and searching through your change, you can’t help but scowl and come to an annoying conclusion. All you have is a fifty, and the change machine in the laundromat only spits out quarters.

“You okay?” It’s the guy with the script, your quiet laundry buddy, looking at you with slight concern, pen still in his mouth.

“Yeah,” you huff a sigh, putting on a strained smile, “two quarters short for the dryer.” Usually you had smaller bills, or just remembered to bring the right change, “can you watch my stuff while I go to the gas station to get change?”

“I can cover two quarters,” he offers easily with a slight smile, pulling the pen from his mouth and putting it, the highlighter, and the stack of papers, onto the dryer after he jumps from it. You stumble through trying to brush him off and refuse graciously, but he’s already elbow-deep in his backpack, telling you it’s no trouble.

“I owe you,” you say with half a laugh, and he shares in your amusement.

“Yeah, I’ll hold you to that,” he replies with an amiable sarcasm, which has you laughing. After you start the dryer, however, you turn back and he’s regarding you with a frown, leaning on the washing machine with his stuff in it.

“Do I have something on my face?” You ask with surprising uncertainty, and he’s quick to clear the frown from his face as he shakes his head.

“No, it’s just kind of weird that we’ve been coming here for so long but never... like, spoken.” He muses, and you feel yourself growing surprised. He offers his hand. “Joe.”

“Y/N,” you say, shaking his hand firmly, and he quietly repeats your name back to himself, like he’s committing it to memory. Something warms in your chest, and you can’t help but look at the stack of papers he’d been focusing intently on, “may I ask what you’re working on?” And he looks confused for the barest moment, quickly followed by excitement, and then what you recognize as him very deliberately restraining that excitement into something more polite.

“It’s a script,” and he kind of sounds... apologetic?

“And...?” You prompt, before backpeddling, “I mean, if you don’t wanna talk about it, that’s fine, I mean we technically just met -” and he’s waiving you off goodnaturedly.

“No, I know, I know,” he assures, “I just... another white guy writing a script in New York?” He makes a face, “get a real personality, am I right?” He laughs self-deprecatingly, but it seems to hit a little too close to home for him, and his expression falls. It’s a sentiment he’s been on the receiving end of far too many times.

“What’s it about?” You ask, gentle and genuinely curious, and his eyebrows raise in surprise as he meets your gaze. Tentatively hopeful, he explains that he’s on the fourth draft of it, that it’s loosely based on his brother’s experiences trying to make it into the Major Leagues in baseball. Most of it goes over your head, but you can’t help but be intrigued. 

“I’m not super big into baseball,” you admit as he’s winding down, “but it sounds awesome, dude; let me know when it’s in theaters and I’ll be in the front row.” He grins at that.

You exchange phone numbers a month later, the pair of you getting take out at the fast food joint across the road from the laundromat, so you could still at least keep somewhat of an eye on your clothes. He’s in between drafts of the script, and they’re actually in preproduction, and you realise oh, he’s actually serious about this.

“See, that’s the difference,” you tell him, leaning your elbows on the table and pointing a finger at him, “the difference is that you follow through.”

“What?” He laughs, not yet following your train of thought.

“Every other white guy in New York could write a script, but none of them would follow through and get it made; you’re ambitious, Joe.”

“I’m not ambitious, I’m just lucky,” he shrugs, a blush creeping up his cheeks, but you won’t let it slide.

“Luck will only get you so far,” you tut, and he gives you a strange look.

“Have you... never seen Jurassic Park?”

“When I was younger,” you shrugged.

“Or The Social Network?”

“I’ve really been meaning to, why?” 

“No reason,” Joe shakes his head with a disbelieving grin, and doesn’t bring it up again.

A few weeks later, he’s late by almost a full half an hour, which you’re not particularly bothered by, you get the impression that he’s a busy guy, but he runs in, laundry basket in hand, apologizing breathlessly. 

“No need to apologise,” you tell him with a bright smile, putting your phone away, “everything okay?”

“Budget meeting ran late,” he explains, gracelessly lumping his clothes into the washing machine and throwing a few tide pods in along with them, “filming’s so close, I just lost track of time.”

“Oh, shit really? Wait have you already cast it?” You asked with a surprisingly genuine excitement; over the weeks, you’ve become rather invested in this project.

“Yeah, didn’t I tell you?” He asked with a grin, “casting was finalized two weeks ago; we start rehearsals next Saturday.”

“That’s so exciting!” You enthused, before laughing, “anyone I’d recognize?” And it’s mostly a joke, but Joe gives pause, evaluating you before he pushes start on his washing machine.

“I don’t know,” he answers genuinely, before conceding, “I mean, apart from me -”

“Acting, writing, and directing; does that make you a triple threat?” You asked coyly, and he breaks out into grin.

“And producing,” he reminds, and you make an impressed noise, nodding.

“Quadruple threat, excuse me.”

“But honestly, I don’t know if you’d recognize them; do you know,” and he goes back to the topic at hand, frowning a little, “Aaron Tveit?” You’re a little speechless, before answering.

“Not personally,” you find yourself answering, which gets Joe to laugh, “shit, dude, from Broadway?” And Joe’s wearing a proud little smile when he nods in confirmation, “and the Les Mis movie?”

“The very same,” Joe agrees, and your mouth hangs agape, “I told you, this is a real movie, I’m not filming this in my backyard,” after a beat, he licks his lips and jumps to sit on the washing machine, “have you seriously never googled me?”

“Why would I?” You asked, and he huffs a disbelieving laugh, shaking his head again in that way that you don’t quite understand. “Should I?” You finally ask, and Joe shrugs, smiling bright and carefree. He’s even swinging his legs, ankles crossed.

“I’m not a murderer, if that’s what’s got you worried,” he muses with a surprisingly carefree grin, “I mean, I’m kind of glad that you haven’t, it means you actually like me for me, you know?”

“Of course I do,” you answer automatically, and Joe’s expression turns fond, “I really like you, dude,” you explain, “I’m kind of in awe of what you’re accomplishing.” And you mean it with your whole heart, “if you’d prefer I didn’t google you, I won’t; I don’t make a habit of googling my friends, I won’t start with you.” When you say this, something about him relaxes, and he hops off the washing machine.

“Wanna grab lunch?” He asks with a smile, which you mirror without hesitation, and agree.

They’re filming out of state, which Joe tells you the week before he leaves, and you hadn’t realised how much you would miss him until the first Sunday rolls around, and you’re sitting in the laundromat alone.

Your phone goes off with a notification at exactly eleven.

It’s a photo of Joe and Aaron Tveit in baseball jerseys, covered in dirt, grinning.

[HOLY SHIT] you send back, following it up with [IS THAT] and then you wait a moment before adding [QUADRUPLE THREAT JOE MAZZELLO??] 

[christ 😳😅🥰] he sends back, and something about his restrained but still obviously flustered response has your heart skip a beat. [is it weird that i miss the laundromat?]

[yes 😂]

[and you of course i miss you too] he’s quick to follow it up with, and your own smile grows wider. You take a photo of the empty laundromat and draw in a terrible stick figure impression of him and send it back.

[miss u too haha] and you give pause before sending [hey if u ever wanna send other prod photos.......] [u don’t just have to send them on sunday]

[you haven’t signed an NDA 😂]

[joseph who am i gonna tell??]

[your other friends idk]

[my lips are ZIPPED ���] [photos for personal use only]

[personal use????? 😘😘]

[dont be GROSS]

[but i wanna be gross!!]

So now you’re flustered in the middle of the laundromat, completely at a loss as to how to respond to that. 

[are u flirting with me joseph?] you send back, and you watch the three little typing dots as they hover for a very long time.

[only if you’re into it]

Oh. 

[the FIRST WEEK YOU’RE AWAY FROM THE LAUNDROMAT AND YOU’RE PULLING THIS SHIT] [i AM into it but fuck 😳😅]

[I’VE BEEN FLIRTING WITH YOU FOR WEEKS]

Oh!

[OH]

[THE FIRST WEEK I’M AWAY FROM THE LAUNDROMAT AND YOU FINALLY PICK UP ON IT???]

[go direct ur baseball movie 🥰😅] you send, and tuck your phone away, feeling rather like a fool, but a pleased fool nonetheless, and you’re grinning for the rest of the day.

Photos are exchanged often after that, usually selfies, or photos of where either of you were, what you were doing, the flirting turning absolutely less subtle with each day that passes until you’re just complimenting each other, and mentioning occasionally how you miss the other.

When he sends a photo of himself posing against the fence of the dugout in a way that showed off his ass, you can’t help but make it your lock screen, though it’s quickly followed by a video and a text that reads [i was told i have to send you this too,,, for context].

“This feels undignified,” says a strangely familiar voice from off-screen, presumably filming, while Joe was trying to ask for opinions on how he should pose.

“This is undignified,” comes someone else’s response, and the camera swings around to reveal an amused Tyler Hoechlin, opening a water bottle, “this Y/N must be real cute.” In the background, a few others, vaguely recognizable, all in baseball uniforms, snicker.

“They are!” Joe answered defiantly, grinning, one leg up against the wire, looking over his shoulder, “are you filming me?” The camera flips around and you get a pretty glorious angle directly up Aaron Tveit’s nose.

“No -”

The video stops abruptly, and you’re all but wheezing with laughter, though all you send back is;

[so worth it] [ur ass *chef’s kiss*]

[THANK YOU] [you get it] [knew there was a reason i liked you so much]

The moment he gets back to New York, he asks you out to dinner. Of course you say yes.

For your third date, he offers to cook you dinner, and watch a movie, prefaced with a question that you’re surprised he still asks; have you really not googled me? And the honest answer you always give: no.

His apartment has a lot of movie posters, of movies you’ve heard of but never seen, or seen when you were very little.

“Big movie buff, obviously,” you note with a little smile, and he raises his eyebrows in amusement at your observation. Even moreso when you excitedly coo about how you haven’t seen Jurassic Park in so long when he suggests it.

“Your self restraint is godlike, babe,” he snickers, and you’re not quite sure what he means, you’re kind of just happy to be here. 

He cooks dinner, and you both sit down in front of his alarmingly big TV, and you feel a warm rush of nostalgia at the opening. You’re eating quietly, watching with rapt attention, but you can feel Joe watching you expectantly. 

“What’s up?” You ask, turning to him, confused, and his smile grows a little wider, and his gaze flicks to the screen for a moment, and then back to you.

“Just waiting for it to click.”

“For what to click?” 

“Babe,” and he says it like he can’t quiet believe it, his gaze now focused on the screen where the kids, Tim and Lex, were being introduced, “that’s me.” And follow his gaze and holy shit. A lot of things start making a lot more sense.

He’s not sure what he’s expecting your reaction to be, but the way your face lights up, and the unbridled enthusiasm and compliments that pour out of you, was not it, but he’s definitely not complaining. 

“Wait!” Your eyes sparkle as you look around his apartment, the movie posters he had everywhere now having a completely different meaning, “all these...?”

“Every single one,” he agrees, a little abashed, suddenly humble, and you grin when you finally look back at him.

“I didn’t think I could be more awed by you, but dude,” you enthused, “that’s cool as hell! You’re cool as hell!” But you take a deep breath, putting your plates onto the coffee table, sitting as close to him as you could, “but I would have thought the world on you even if you hadn’t done any of this,” and he tries to brush it off, but you’re adamant, “no, I mean it, I like you for you, Joe, not for what you’ve done, but... for who you are.”

“You’re gonna make me blush,” he shoots for serious, but misses entirely thanks to his pleased little smile.

“Good,” you tell him seriously, and kiss both of his pink cheeks before kissing him. Your dinner might get a little cold after that, but you can always reheat it. 

You comfort him over the weeks it takes to edit him film, Undrafted, though he’ll never let you see too much of the final product; he wants you to see it in cinemas first.

It’s still kind of surreal to you that Joe Mazzello is both a movie star, and your boyfriend. He’s still friends with Laura Dern, and he also spends eight dollars a week at a laundromat to wash his clothes. Bizarre. But you kind of like how down-to-earth he is. 

What’s more bizarre is when he invites you to the red carpet premiere of his movie.

“Me?” You squeaked, and he seemed a little confused at your hesitation, his hands on your shoulders.

“You,” he nodded slowly, not understanding why you’re suddenly nervous.

“For real?”

“Yeah, of course I want you there; you said so yourself, you’d be in the front row, right?” He smiled a little and you could feel your heart melt.

“You remember that?”

“Of course I do,” he tells you gently, “it’s one of the reasons I liked you in the first place.” He’s so earnest; you agree easily.

The red carpet is a whole other world, you find, dressed to the nines, styled by someone you don’t know, cameras flashing in your face -

“Is this Y/N?” Tyler Hoechlin is saying your name. What universe is this? Joe was blushing furiously with his arm around you as the cast made their way over.

“Finally, a face for a name,” and that’s Aaron Tveit; you have to remind yourself not to get star struck. Instead, you smile and offer your hand to them both, which they shake, smiling and greeting you warmly. 

“Don’t embarrass me, you assholes,” Joe warned, though his tone was amused, and the others chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Mister Director,” Aaron assured.

“You’re good at doing that on your own,” Tyler added, and Joe gave him the finger, but held you a little tighter. 

“Did he send you the video of when he asked me to take that photo? You know the one,” Aaron asked, and you straightened your posture, grinning brightly.

“With an ass like his, I don’t know why you’d think it’s undignified,” you said loftily, and there was a beat as everyone took in what you said.

“I fucking love you,” Joe half laughed, pulling you in for a kiss.

“You’re good,” Tyler snorted, shaking his head with a grin, and Aaron was just straight-up laughing. The rest of the cast took to you easily, though most of the in-jokes among them went over your head, by Joe’s side, you never really felt left out. 

The theater itself was cool and dark, but you could feel the whole cast and crew thrumming with excitement and nervous energy, and Joe gave your hand a squeeze where your fingers were interlaced. 

It’s clear he’d poured his heart and soul into the movie, his fingerprints were all over every aspect of it, and you couldn’t quite believe you were watching it all finally completed; it had been almost a year since you’d first asked him about it, and now, here you were, hand in hand with him at the premiere. 

As the credits rolled, as the crowd clapped, and you along with them, you found yourself speechless. Joe, quiet and surprisingly nervous, turns to you.

“What’d you think?” His voice is quiet, uncertain, and you all but tackle him across the armrest, kissing him until you’re both breathless.

“I’m so proud of you,” you gasp against his lips, “I’m so fucking proud of you.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” his voice is gentle as he takes your face in his hands, but you shake your head.

“You could have, babe, you absolutely could have, you’ve got so much ambition and talent -”

“I didn’t want to do it without you,” he admits in a rush, and you freeze, eyes on his, “I mean it.” And you’re kissing him again, hoping he can feel the pride and love that’s flowing through you. There’s an afterparty to get to, drinks with the cast and crew, and a comfortable bed waiting after that, you know, but you can’t help but bask in this one moment together, just a little longer.

[cardsbizarreadventure]

💘 kiss goodbye from joelle to bowie? :O

💘 kiss goodbye

It was finally over , the fight had came to an end when Dio was officially taken down and this time it was permanently. It almost felt like they won't ever see this day come , but alas it had finally came . The journey was very heavy , but regardless they knew what was going to happen to them if they took this risk to begin with , their heroic acts and deeds won't ever be forgotten. Joelle had been waiting in the airport for at least an hour , she really couldn't wait to get home and collect herself. This journey had left her a lot of scars that she really needed time to heal and gather herself before approaching anything further. She was watching from her seat how Joseph , Jotaro and Polnareff were talking about something , but there was another whole feeling starting to knot in Joe's stomach.. perhaps she wasn't a person that liked goodbyes so much, since most of the time it meant that they won't ever see each other again, maybe she couldn't stand that feeling , she had always had problems with her emotions and she was never good at expressing them properly when it came to certain matters . A small sigh left her lips before she got herself up from her seat and picked up her bag , the moment she began to approach the trio that was standing nearby her , she heard someone call out to her.. a familiar voice... a voice she couldn't really forget. It was none other than Bowie himself. Joe felt her own heart stop for a slight moment before she turned around making sure it was him and it was without a doubt . Joseph gave Joelle an odd look from the side as she just frowned at him. Polareff gave a pat on Joseph's shoulder . ->" Let her say her goodbyes , you worry too much. " Polnareff commented before crossing his arms as Joseph just grunted a bit annoyed , he waved his hand dismissively giving her the signal that she could go say goodbye to her friend. Joe nodded as the expression on her face lit up before she approached the tall brown-haired man , looking up at him. ->" Hey. " Bowie began. ->"I guess you're leaving too, huh?" He brought it up , as Joelle's gaze darted down for a slight moment as she could feel that sensation troubling her from earlier feel a bit more tense now. Bowie just tilted his head to the side a bit curiously , surely he had known Joelle for a period of time but something seemed to bother him , maybe it was the fact that he hasn't seen this strange kind of behavior form her side at all. Was she upset? Was she angry? He couldn't quite pick the proper signal. ->"Yeah.. guess so." She finally spoke up as she just looked to the side , bringing her hand on the side of her arm , beginning to rub it nervously. Something in her wasn't allowing her to look up at him , she couldn't understand this sensation that was forming but it was really starting to bother her . Did she really feel upset..? Or was it something else perhaps? A small sigh left her lips since it felt like her words froze , she didn't know what to really say. Bowie blinked a few times as he adjusted the bag handle that was around his shoulder. ->" I thought I should say bye before I take my leave , seems like our ways are going to part from here... " He spoke up with a soothing tone. ->" I-... I suppose. " Joe barely spoke up , as she continued to look to the side . Bowie gave another odd look , as he felt the hand that was in his pocket and the item he had in there grip on it tightly , it was something he had picked up for Joelle . There was some strange conflict that Bowie that he still couldn't understand himself to a degree and why he felt a certain way , because he knew quite well what the outcome was going to be... was it really proper to give something like this to her? What was she going to think ? It felt so foolish to dive into these sort of emotions once again.. but it always felt like it was always getting the better of him. For a slight moment he thought of just pulling it out and giving it to her , but right there and right now he thought second , because a pinch of doubt was forming in his head. The fact that she wasn't

saying anything was making him feel more and more anxious , so perhaps this time he was going to step back and not fall into the trap of his mind and heart. ->" Well , I have to get going now , my plane will be leaving shortly. Goodbye Joelle. " He spoke up between a long pause at the last thing he said , he just looked away before waving his goodbye and taking his leave. Joelle was standing there , wanting to say so much but there was something blocking it entirely... what are these feelings? what was this emotion that was stinging her so hard that it almost felt like she couldn't breathe. She was so close to reach out and grab him by the arm , but she couldn't. She finally managed to look at him the moment he had turned his back and take his leave. Another kind of sensation was beginning to form in her stomach and this one was worse than before , until she felt something on her shoulder. ->" You know Joe , I don't think it's good to let all these emotions in you pile up like that and never express them. I've seen the way you look at him and the way you did now ... There is something more you want to tell him , if you miss your opportunity now , it might never come again. So what are you going to do? " Those were the exact words Joelle needed to hear right now , she felt her eyes widen for a moment until a small gasp left her lips , she felt the grip on her bag handle tighten up , until she pulled it off and threw it off her shoulder , making a run for it. ->"JOELLE!!" Joseph called out nearly about to go run after her until Polnareff paused him. ->"She'll come back , just give her a moment." Joe began to run , trying to find him among the crows that felt like more and more were forming , she began to push people to the side left and right , trying to find him. 'Where is he... where is he..' a thought crossed her mind since she couldn't see him anywhere. -> "Bowie!!" She called out wondering if he could hear her and stop for a moment , but he was nowhere to be found , Joe began to get more and more anxious by the second until she had finally spotted him right at the entrance of his license to be checked. For a moment there she panicked a lot , she didn't know how things will turn out. What if he didn't feel the same? What if this just destroys their current relationship...? She felt herself clench her fist as all of a sudden time around her paused , no one was moving. It seems like her own stand had triggered itself regardless that Joelle didn't really want to use her powers... she took a deep breath grateful for the few seconds she had to collect her thoughts completely , before she approached closer as time began to move again. She didn't even hesitate as she grabbed him by the hand and pulled him back , as the brown-haired man felt himself almost stumble backwards until he noticed who had pulled him back , he looked down at the purple-haired woman standing right in front of him about to say something. ->"Joe-..." He began until he felt the cloth of his shirt being pulled on , dragging him down towards her as soon he felt something really strange hit him ... he couldn't believe it , it seems like she had a bit more courage than himself... he felt something very warm and soft against his lips... it was Joelle's lips. It took him a while to process what just happened as he just stared down in shock at her as she finally pulled away and looked up at him very serious. ->" Listen , I know you probably don't feel the same way , but this feeling has been bothering me for a long time and I can't understand why I feel this way after spending time with you ... I don't know what came over me and I can't understand why but.. but even that time when I saw you with that woman you were trying to talk to I just... I just wanted to punch her in the face!! And I don't really know why I began to feel this kind of anger pile in ... I just ... " The blood in her cheeks began to boil , she began to panic even more as she began to throw out anything that came to her mind , wondering what he might think of her now , she felt how her

heart was going to burst out of her chest , she couldn't bare to look up at him after what she did , Joelle felt like any kind of relationship she had built with him just shattered to pieces , until something happened... she felt a pair of hands cup her face as she felt a force pull her closer , her gaze darted towards that direction until she saw Bowie's face lower in closer , pressing his lips against her own. Joe flinched slightly as she felt her entire face flush pink the moment she felt him kiss her. She took a moment before closing her eyes completely , almost melting into his gentle touch before he pulled away and just smiled softly. Joe just stared up at him with her face as red as a tomato , it almost felt like she could hear her own heartbeat in her ears because all sorts of emotions were attacking her at the same time. ->" I do feel the same way... but I never really thought it would work between us because of what kind of circumstances were thrown at us... Maybe I was just afraid that I would ruin what we had now and that's something I wouldn't live down so easily... it hurt to think about it , so I just tried to push it aside so it doesn't get more complicated... but it seems like I was completely wrong about it... " Bowie spoke up softly , as he just stared down at her red face. He felt himself relax because the anxious feeling from earlier felt like it completely disappeared . ->" I was too ... you don't hate me do you?" She looked up at him looking like she was about to cry. The smile on Bowie's face grew wider before she leaned down pressing his forehead against hers. ->" Of course not.. it's the complete opposite .. " He let out a small chuckle , as he continued to hold her face softly. Joe just closed her eyes for a moment , trying to calm down from the amount of sensations that were making even her own knees weak at the moment as they stood like that for a short period before Bowie pulled away. ->" I knew it was going to be hard to say goodbye... so I just wanted to avoid that ... but it seems like something else caught up to me and as much as it might be hard right now , I'm happy that I got to meet you.. " The brown-haired man spoke up before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small keepsake , handing it over to her. ->"I wanted to give you this a while back... not as a goodbye gift ... more like a promise that we will see each other again in time... or maybe something small to remember me by... even if we might not see each other again.." Joe took the small shaped box as she took a short moment to examine it before opening it , a small smile formed on her face as she closed it. ->"I want to give you something too... give me your hand. " She extended her hand as Bowie blinked a few times before he reached forward , Joe placed her hand on top of the inside of his palm as something in between the small space of their hands began to glow , the moment Joe pulled her hand away , there was a small yellow flower that was glowing with a very warm and vibrant energy. Bowie gasped in surprise. ->" When ever you're feeling doubts... or even feeling lonely... just remember that there is someone out there that cares for you with their entire heart and soul... I guess it wouldn't really be a goodbye gift either.. " She'd let out a small chuckle as she blushed , noticing the light blush on Bowie's face as well. ->"I know I can't keep you here forever since you have a flight to catch and I really don't want you to go ... but promise me that we will see each other again... " Joe glanced up at him with hopeful eyes , as he just did a little nod before leaning down to give her another small kiss on the lips. ->"I promise." And with that the two of them separated at that moment , even if they were far away from each other , they will always feel close no matter the distance or the circumstances . Joe waved her goodbye to the brown-haired man as he took his leave , she glanced down at the small heart shaped box in her hand as a soft smile formed on her face. "... We'll see each other again soon... I

promise you..."

[joe-mazzello-archive]

Party For One

A Joe Mazzello x Fem!Reader fic

Word Count: 4k whoopsssss

Rating: PG

Warnings: language, drinking, angst for most of it, a teeny bit of fluff, joe is a bit of a shithead in this one, sorry gang

A/N: hey remember how i was supposed to be finishing doj part two and instead i word-vomited this out in five hours at work yesterday? anyway, enjoy.

He hasn’t changed a bit, you thought to yourself as you watched him, always the life of the party. He’d been that way all through high school, the summers you saw him between college semesters, and the few gatherings he made appearances at when he was home.

You’d always been right beside him, too. Pre-gaming at a friend’s house, sharing the mic during karaoke, rubbing his back as he leaned over the toilet, crashing on the couch or the floor or wherever you could find a spot.

But now you were out of your element. You were in his other world. You were surrounded by vaguely familiar faces, people you knew you had probably seen in a movie or a tv show but you couldn’t place them exactly. And there he was, across the room, animatedly entertaining a small group with some anecdote you’d probably heard before.

He was obviously the reason you were here. He had been begging you to come out to Los Angeles for years now. Years of you’d love it out here and you and I both know you’d take the industry by storm and I miss my best friend. Eventually, you relented. Mostly because your career in real estate was exhaustingly boring and you needed a change. Acting had always been something you enjoyed but never looked at as a career opportunity until now. But you had to admit, you missed your best friend too.

So you packed up everything, drove across the country, and settled into Joe’s guest room. You had a meeting with his agency on Monday, but of course Joe, always the party host, insisted that you needed a welcoming get-together upon arrival. Which soon turned into a complete blow-out. In fact, you were pretty sure most of the guests in attendance had no idea what the party’s true origin was, let alone who you were.

So there you were, only hours since you had arrived, left to nurse your beer off in the corner. Part of you wished you and Joe could have had a quiet night in, catching up over pizza and a comedy special. But you knew deep down that would have just exacerbated the situation you found yourself in. Seeing Joe in the flesh once again had caused some...feelings to resurface. Feelings that you had worked for years to suppress, and had been hoping were completely gone by now.

All it took was him opening his front door and pulling you into a tight hug for all of those feelings to come rushing right back.

Sometimes he did things that made you feel like maybe, just maybe, he felt the same. Like the way he used to wrap a protective arm around you when the two of you walked around Brooklyn at night. The way he could sense when you were having a rough day just through your texts, and suddenly a delivery of Insomnia Cookies would arrive at your apartment door. The way every hello and goodbye hug lasted just a moment longer than was probably appropriate for two friends. But surely you were reading into it.

You knew he wasn’t avoiding you. No, he couldn’t be. Sure, the second other guests had started to arrive, his focus turned from you to them. And sure, he hadn’t given you the time of day since. But he wasn’t avoiding you, no. He was just a popular guy, he always had been.

You pushed those negative thoughts away, not willing to accept them.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” sounded a familiar voice with a British lilt from behind you. You turned and were met with ocean blue eyes and chiseled cheekbones.

“Gwil,” you breathed out, almost in relief. Someone you knew. The tall man pulled you in for a bear hug, immediately putting you at ease. You appreciated the gesture considering you and Gwil weren’t even that close, only meeting each other a few times back when the Borhap cast was briefly in New York.

“Did that asshole leave you here alone at a party full of people you don’t know?” Gwil asked as he pulled away. You chuckled at his frankness.

“You know how he is,” you mused, offering a smile and a shrug. “He’s gotta entertain everybody.”

“Now did I hear correctly that you’re moving out here?” Gwil questioned, casually leaning a shoulder against the wall next to you.

“Got here a few hours ago, in fact,” you explained. “I’ll be occupying the guest room until I find my own place.” Gwil chuckled at that.

“You quite literally just got here and he’s off chatting with people he sees all the time?” Gwil clarified, earning an exasperated nod from you. “I’m going to go ahead and apologize on behalf of that bastard.” You let out a genuine laugh at that, clearly pleasing Gwil if his smile was any indication. “So how was the trip out here?”

And that’s how you found yourself tucked into the hallway of Joe’s apartment, just exchanging stories with Gwil. You welcomed the change in subject, not wanting to harp on the whole Joe situation. You told him about the weird truck stop in Ohio, the delicious pizza you devoured in Chicago, the loud hotel neighbors you encountered in Colorado, and your brief stint in Las Vegas. Gwil offered his own road trip tales before the conversation shifted, and eventually he was regaling stories about various sets he’d worked on, actors he’d worked with, and general knowledge of the business. He even offered some much needed advice, melting away some of your initial anxieties about your career change. All feelings of loneliness and inklings of frustration at Joe were long gone, and you mentally thanked Joe for inviting at least one person you knew.

“Can I ask you something?” Gwil inquired after a little while, the two of you finding yourselves settled out in chairs on Joe’s balcony, enjoying the night air of LA.

“Fire away.”

“Did you and Joe ever date or anything?”

You burst out laughing at the question, shaking your head.

“No, no, definitely not,” you replied before taking a sip of your beer. You chanced a look at Gwil, finding him eyeing you warily.

“That’s surprising,” he admitted before pursing his lips and gently caressing his own beard, a gesture you noticed he did often.

“Why is that surprising?” you asked, furrowing your eyebrows.

“Just the way he talks about you…” Gwil trailed off, his gaze focusing on the city lights before him. Your heart slammed against your chest at his words. You tried to keep your face neutral, not wanting to let Gwil know just how important what he was saying was to you.

“How...how does he talk about me?” you followed up, attempting to hide the quiver in your voice. Gwil immediately turned back to face you, his eyes glinting mischievously. His lips curved into a soft smile before he said your name gently.

“He...he’s in awe of you,” Gwil confessed. “I swear he talked about you constantly while we were shooting the film. ‘She’d be a great actress if she wanted to be. She’s funny, she’s charming, and she’s got the looks and talent.’ Everything reminded him of a funny story involving you. We practically knew you before we even met you.” Your heart was practically beating out of your chest as Gwil spoke. Sure, Joe had complimented you before. But something about the fact that he had practically bragged about you to people who didn’t even know you made your stomach flutter.

You realized Gwil had stopped talking and you met his gaze, finding his eyes narrowed at you.

“You should tell him,” he finally said after a few moments.

“Tell him what?” you asked, playing dumb. You knew exactly what he was referring to. The man had seen right through you. He smiled, this time seeing right through your act of denial.

“How you feel.”

You ran your hands over your face and let out a groan.

“I literally just moved in, Gwil,” you reasoned. “I don’t want to make him feel awkward about me staying here by telling him about the feelings he very clearly doesn’t reciprocate.” You gestured inside the apartment, where Joe was still talking it up with a few guys you recognized from Undrafted.

Gwil leaned forward, shuffling closer to you and placing a gentle hand on your knee.

“I know his actions tonight make it seem like he couldn’t care less. But I promise you, he’s so happy to have you here. He adores you. More than you even realize.”

You chewed on Gwil’s words, your mind swimming. You believed him; he had no reason to lie to you. But you just wished what Gwil told you lined up with how Joe had been behaving all night.

Eventually the two of you made your way back inside, to find the party had somewhat died down. Joe had shifted into clean up mode while the last small group was starting to make their exit. You instinctively began to straighten up, grabbing beer bottles and paper plates and disposing of them while Joe worked on packing up the leftover food.

You were tying up a full trash bag when Joe brushed past you, not even acknowledging your presence. Your heart sunk, knowing full well you couldn’t use the excuse that Joe was just distracted by others this time.

He was actually ignoring you.

As you opened a new trash bag, you began to wrack your brain for what you could have done already to piss him off. Gwil pulled you from your thoughts, pulling you in for a goodbye hug and a peck on the cheek. When he pulled away, his brow furrowed.

“What’s wrong?” It was amazing how quickly Gwil learned how to read you. Or maybe you were just that bad at masking your emotions.

Your lip trembled as you tried to prevent the tears from falling.

“He’s ignoring me now,” you revealed, earning a sympathetic look from Gwil.

“I’m sorry, love,” he offered quietly. “He’ll figure his shit out eventually.” Another hug, this one a bit longer as he held you against his chest. “I’ll text you next time I’m in town, we’ll all grab lunch.” You nodded with a soft smile before pulling away, turning your attention back to your cleaning.

Another minute passed, the last of the voices faded away, and the door clicked closed, leaving a silent apartment. You let out a sigh as you tossed the last of the plates you had found in the new trash bag. Pulling another beer out of the fridge, you ventured into the living room where you found Joe pushing the coffee table back to its original position. You awkwardly leaned against the arm of the loveseat as you waited for him to say something.

But he didn’t. After finishing rearranging, he passed by you once again, not even sparing you a glance, before heading back into the kitchen. You let out another sigh, following after him.

“Okay, can you please tell me what I did so I can fix it?” you pleaded, completely at a loss. Joe silently pulled a bottle of disinfectant and a rag out from under the sink and breezed past you another time, heading back into the living room. You scoffed at his actions, your sadness being replaced with anger at his immature way of handling himself.

You placed your beer down on the counter and trudged back into the living room, stopping in front of where Joe was wiping down the coffee table and crossing your arms.

“Joe? Are you going to talk to me or continue to ignore me like a fucking child?”

He froze, dropping the bottle and the rag on the table before finally, finally looking at you for the first time in hours.

“You’ve been here for what, five minutes? And you’re already trying to fuck my friends?”

Your jaw dropped.

“Excuse me?”

“You and Gwil seemed awfully cozy,” Joe replied before picking up the rag and continuing to wipe down the coffee table. You grabbed the rag from his hand, earning a sharp glare. “Hey--”

“Are you fucking serious right now?” you roared, your blood boiling. “I hang out with the one fucking person I knew at my supposed ‘welcoming party’ besides you and suddenly I’m trying to fuck them?” You were shell-shocked at the accusation. Joe simply shrugged.

“The two of you were inseparable all night, what was I supposed to think?” he reasoned as he began to walk back into the kitchen. You scoffed again, tossing the rag onto the table in frustration at his nonchalant tone.

“How about the fact that you left me alone at a party full of strangers so I spent time with Gwil since you were busy with your other friends?” you fired back as you stomped into the kitchen. Joe began to wash his hands, still ignoring your piercing stare. “Like, holy shit, Joe. I know your world does not revolve around me, but the least you could do was acknowledge my existence. It’s my first night here, for fuck’s sake.”

That made him pause. He stared at the counter and you could practically hear how hard he was thinking. Suddenly, he met your gaze once again, a brazen look on his face.

“You could have come up to talk to me. I shouldn’t have to babysit you.”

His words were like a sword through your chest. Your jaw practically hit the floor this time.

“Fuck. You.” You turned on your heels and headed for the guest bedroom, angry hot tears escaping down your cheeks. You thanked your past self for barely unpacking anything before the party as you began to scoop up your toiletries and few pieces of clothing laying out on the bed and threw them back into your suitcase. 

You felt ashamed and so so stupid for thinking that this had been a good idea. And the worst feeling of all was the embarrassment at thinking that there was ever a chance of Joe reciprocating any feelings for you. You were nothing but a burden to him. Someone he felt like he would have to “babysit.” You didn’t fit in in his world and you were foolish to think you could.

“What are you doing?”

You jumped at the sound of Joe’s voice behind you; you hadn’t even heard him approach. You swiped at a stray tear and finished zipping up your bag before lugging it onto the floor and pulling up the handle.

“I’m going to check into a hotel,” you explained as you pushed your way past him, luggage dragging behind you. “I don’t feel welcome here.” You began to make your way towards the front door, already feeling overwhelmed by anxiety. You had no idea what your next move was going to be. Stay in LA and try to figure things out? Go back home to two parents who would chant “we told you so” until they were blue in the face?

Joe’s hand caught your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

“Please don’t do that,” he pleaded, his tone from earlier completely gone and replaced with a much softer and more desperate one. “I’m sorry. Please stay.” You whipped around to face him.

“Which part are you sorry for?” you asked sharply. “The part where you ignored me? Or where you accused me of trying to sleep with your friend? Or maybe it’s the part where you said you shouldn’t have to ‘babysit me’?”

“All of it,” Joe replied. “I’m sorry I lashed out at you. I’m just--” he trailed off as he turned away, almost bashfully. “I can’t help but feel protective of you.”

You furrowed your brows. It didn’t make sense. He felt protective of you but didn’t want to have to ‘babysit you’? He felt protective of you but he got mad at you for talking to Gwil? You stuttered as you tried to put the pieces together, coming up empty.

“I don’t…” your voice petered out. You were completely flabbergasted. “What do you want from me, Joe?”

Joe’s eyes met yours once again, and you could see the conflict written on his face. He was struggling with something. It was almost as if he--

“I want…” he began, before taking a deep breath. “I want you to stay here tonight.”

You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. For some reason, a part of you was hopeful he would say something else. The two of you stared at each other for a few more moments, giving him the chance to say more. But it never came. So with a soft nod, you reached for your suitcase again, pulling it behind you as you walked back into the guest room, closing the door behind you.

✧✧✧

You awoke to the smell of bacon wafting into your room. You sat up, throwing your legs over the side of the bed. With a deep breath, you pushed yourself up and headed toward the bathroom.

The sight of your face in the mirror made you cringe. You hadn’t taken off your makeup before crying yourself to sleep the night before, leaving black streaks of mascara across your cheeks. You washed your face before running a comb through your hair. You knew you looked awful, but you didn’t care. Joe had seen you worse, and honestly, his opinion of you was not high on your priority list after his hissy fit last night.

You sauntered into the kitchen with a bit of hesitation, unsure what you’d be walking into. You found Joe, furiously whisking some pancake batter.

“Hey.”

He practically jumped out of his own skin, clumsily dropping the bowl of batter to the counter, luckily with little to no mess.

“Hey,” he replied, running a hand over the back of his neck. “How did you sleep?”

“Alright,” you lied. You had agonized over every detail of the evening until practically three in the morning. But you didn’t want Joe to know that. If he knew, he didn’t let on, instead offering you a small smile.

“I made bacon and I’m about to make pancakes,” he stated, gesturing towards the stove behind him. You nodded simply and took a seat at his kitchen island.

Things were awkward. You didn’t even know where to begin. Part of you wanted to tell him to forget everything and start fresh. It would make things easier. But part of you wanted to stand strong, make sure you held him accountable for how he’d hurt you.

You mulled over everything, idly chewing on a piece of bacon as Joe worked at the stove, mumbling under his breath about the pancakes cooking inconsistently or something. After a few minutes, you were pulled from your thoughts by a plate of pancakes being placed in front of you. You glanced up to see Joe eyeing you, an uncertain look on his face.

“I’m a huge asshole,” he admitted. You opened your mouth to agree with him but he kept going. “You were right. I was avoiding you during the party. It was easier for me to convince myself that you were having a good time than to check up on you myself. I thought I…” he trailed off, losing momentum. He shook his head and began again. “I assured myself that I could handle being around you again. That enough time had passed and I could be your best friend again without a second thought. But then you walked through my front door and it all came rushing back and I panicked.”  You shook your head, trying to keep up with what Joe was trying to tell you.

“I don’t understand--”

“I’m in love with you.”

For the third time in less than twenty-four hours, your jaw dropped.

“I honestly think I’ve been in love with you since high school, but it took me well into my late twenties for me to actually realize it. And I got so caught up on this fantasy of you and I being this acting dream team, showing this fucking town who’s boss, together. And then you were here and you had spent the last week road-tripping across the country yet somehow you looked so fucking beautiful? And I just...couldn’t handle it. I invited practically everyone in my contacts to come over right away because I needed a buffer. I turned my focus to everyone else at the party because it was familiar and certain. With you there was so much uncertainty.”

He paused for a moment and collected his thoughts once again.

“And then I saw you with Gwil. I knew it wasn’t anything. But you were smiling and laughing with him and I just couldn’t help but wish you were spending your time with me. I know that doesn’t make sense. But I just got so caught up in my own head so when you finally confronted me, I panicked again. I threw everything back at you because I was afraid and embarrassed.”

You watched him as he plopped down on the stool next to you with a sigh.

“I wish I could do it all over again. There wouldn’t be a party. Just you and me like it used to be,” he continued. He turned to you, eyes sad with regret. “I am so so so sorry. You were right about everything. Except one thing. My world does revolve around you. The day you told me you were coming out here was the happiest day I’ve had in awhile. I’ve thought about nothing else since. But I completely understand if you want to leave. Hell, I’ll pay for your hotel and help you figure out what you want to do. But I also understand if you want me to just leave you alone.”

To say you were stunned would be an understatement. Your heart was pounding out of your chest at Joe’s confession. You didn’t even know what to say. There was so much that needed to be said, but you were frozen in place.

So you didn’t speak. You just moved.

You gripped the sides of Joe’s head and pulled him in for a bruising kiss. He let out a small noise in surprise, but quickly melted into the kiss, his own hands reaching for you and landing on your hips. You kissed him hard, pouring every emotion you felt into it. Every past pang of your heart when Joe had gone out of his way to do something for you. Every past flutter of your stomach when he had wrapped his arms around you. Every ounce of frustration and hurt that flooded your heart last night. He kissed you back just as eagerly, pulling you off the stool and closer to him, your chests pressing together.

You finally pulled away to gasp for breath, your forehead still pressed against Joe’s.

“I love you too, you asshole,” you breathed out, earning a chuckle from Joe. He pulled back to look at you, gently caressing your cheek with his thumb. “You think I’d uproot my entire life and move across the country if I wasn’t completely in love with you?”

Joe’s face lit up before he dove in for another kiss.

“Does this mean you forgive me?” he asked, running his hands up and down your sides. You pursed your lips as you thought it over.

“I’ll only forgive you if you help me finish unpacking,” you reasoned, a smirk playing at your lips. Joe beamed, pulling you closer to him so you were practically in his lap.

“So you’re gonna stay?”

“Of course I’m staying. Why stay in a hotel when I can stay with my former best friend?” Joe’s brows furrowed.

“Former?”

“I guess I just figured ‘love of my life’ was a better title for you,” you revealed with a smile, running your fingers through his auburn locks. Joe pulled you in for another searing kiss, standing up and pressing you against the island, earning a squeal from you. After a moment, he pulled away, grabbing your hand and practically running down the hall towards the guest room, pancakes long forgotten.

✧✧✧

Permanent Taglist (crossed out names won’t let me tag): @queenlover05​, @mrhoemazzello​, @madamsledge​, @sadhwstudent​, @johndeaconshands​, @puffnstuff08

[letterboxd]

Heart Beat.

Minari’s film composer Emile Mosseri (also responsible for the Kajillionaire and The Last Black Man in San Francisco scores) tells Ella Kemp about his A24 favorites, Nicholas Britell’s friendship and the boldest Paul McCartney needle drop in movie history.

What do you think a broken heart sounds like? How about a warm, beating one? It’s something that Emile Mosseri has been thinking about for a while now. The past two years have seen him complete a hat-trick of beguiling, transporting scores for Plan B movies: Joe Talbot and Jimmie Fails’ The Last Black Man in San Francisco, Miranda July’s Kajillionaire and now, the film voted the best of 2020 by our community, Lee Isaac Chung’s Minari.

What binds these scores together is a delicacy that knows when to break free and turn into something altogether spectacular. But on Minari in particular, Mosseri is in full bloom, working for the first time in a way he’d always dreamed about. While The Last Black Man in San Francisco saw him compose to a loose edit, and on Kajillionaire he worked to a locked cut, Chung gave him the freedom to write music directly to Minari’s script. “It was a dream to work this way on Minari,” Mosseri says. “It was so beautifully written and so visceral.”

‘Minari’ composer Emile Mosseri.

Minari is an intimate portrait of a Korean family making their way in rural America, and the composer was interested in “trying to figure out musically how you can feel connected to your deepest childhood memories”. These memories belong, in the film, to David—a tiny king played by eight-year-old Alan Kim—as he comes to terms with his new life on a small farm in Arkansas, as his family strives for their own version of the American Dream.

The Yi family is made up of David and his sister Anne (Noel Kate Cho), their parents Monica (Han Ye-ri) and Jacob (Steven Yeun) and their grandmother, Soon-ja (Youn Yuh-jung). It’s a personal story for Chung, one that Mosseri felt honored to be a part of. “It’s a very intimate story with these five characters, which takes place mostly in this small mobile home—but emotionally, it’s very epic.”

There was something about Chung that had caught Mosseri’s attention early on. “I had met him at the LA premiere of Last Black Man,” Mosseri says, “and I sent him the Kajillionaire score.” Mosseri was already familiar with the filmmaker’s work: “His first film, Munyurangabo, is incredible.” He calls Chung “very open, but also sly” in terms of hitting the right notes and “gently steering the ship”. The partnership between composer and director was about working on “a more emotional level,” Mosseri says. “There was never any talk about what we wanted stylistically.”

The ‘Minari’ ensemble cast.

The result is a film graced with music at once lush and raw, grandiose and vulnerable. Mosseri is keenly aware of these nuances, and always made sure to walk the tonal tightrope in the writing process. “There aren’t sad cues and hopeful cues,” he explains. “Every cue has both feelings. Each musical moment dips in and out of the hopefulness and joy of a family, and then the pain and frustration and dissonance that they hold.”

The way Mosseri’s music swells and flows often feels intangible, magical, even—which comes more from knowing what to avoid, rather than acting with too much forced intention. On his first film, Mosseri brought brass and strings to the streets of San Francisco, and with Miranda July, he worked old Hollywood glamor into the concrete blocks of Los Angeles. Here, we twirl through the tall grass as gentle acoustic guitars and elegant string sections sigh and sway, while the Yi family work through their growing pains.

“We didn’t want to hear Korean music when you see Korean characters, and we didn’t want twangy music when you see an American farm,” Mosseri explains. “We wanted to come at it from the side somehow, in some way that’s unexpected.” ‘Rain’, his collaboration with Minari star Han Ye-ri, which features on the official soundtrack, encapsulates this juxtaposition. It’s an epic lullaby of sorts; Han sings in Korean to a gentle guitar; a pleasing swell of synths climbs alongside her voice. The effect on the listener is as if liquid love is trickling from every vein. “I wanted this score to feel like it had a warm, beating heart.”

Two of your three feature films to date have been released by A24, and so we must ask: what are your favorite A24 film scores? Emile Mosseri: Three come to mind. First of all, Anna Meredith’s score for Eighth Grade. It’s so adventurous and unexpected and fresh and just brilliant. It’s so pure and out-there. It also does this impossible thing of being hip and exciting and deep, but also hilarious. The pool-party scene fucking kills me.

Then there’s Under the Skin by Mica Levi. I remember seeing that at the Nighthawk theater in Brooklyn and feeling like it was the best score I’d heard in as long as I could remember.

And then of course, Moonlight. That film got under my skin in a way I didn’t see coming. I saw it by myself in a theater, after hearing all the hype for months and months. When a movie has that much hype you can get a bit cynical and it can distract you, so I went in a bit guarded, but I left the film destroyed. For weeks and weeks it resonated with me in a way that was so profound, and a large part of that is due to Nick [Britell]’s music. And the film is just perfection.

Scarlett Johansson in ‘Under the Skin’ (2013), scored by Mica Levi.

You’ve been described as Nicholas Britell’s protégé more than once… It’s funny, I think that came from me being a fan of his and saying nice things about his music. I met him at Sundance two years ago when Last Black Man was premiering. I went with my wife and my brother and I was so excited, I’d been waiting for this moment for so long. We walked in and Nick and Barry [Jenkins] were walking in behind [us]. And there was also Boots Riley, Kamasi Washington… all these people I looked up to. I hadn’t considered that I would see this film in the room with them, and it was the first time I was hearing the final mix and just agonizing.

Nick was incredibly generous and said great things about the score and was super encouraging, and he became a friend and mentor. But I’ve never studied with him or worked with him. Although, if you’re a fan of somebody’s work, you’re a student of any of these composers that you admire. Anything you watch and listen to, you absorb.

What was the first film that made you want to be a composer? It was Edward Scissorhands. Danny Elfman’s score was the first one that made me realize that this was a job. I’m always attracted to big, romantic melodies, and over-the-top sweeping stuff—but done tastefully. In that score, he sets the high-water mark for me. It’s so unapologetically romantic.

And then there are other obvious ones like The Godfather. It’s maybe a dorky choice because it’s the most famous movie ever, but it really is the best. And that got me into Nino Rota, and from there I found [Federico] Fellini and all these movies through Nino, the composer. And then I got really into the score for La Dolce Vita and more movies that he’d written for, which are so beautiful.

The ‘Edward Scissorhands’ (1990) score was an early inspiration for Mosseri.

Which films, new to you, blew you away in 2020? Take Shelter by Jeff Nichols blew me away. It unfolded in a way that was intoxicating and really exciting, and it just really stuck with me.

What’s been your favorite needle drop on screen this year? Aside from Devonté Hynes’ score being stunning, there’s an amazing piece of music placed in an episode of Luca Guadagnino’s We Are Who We Are. They use a Paul McCartney song called ‘Let Em In’, and they dropped it in this incredibly tasteful but unexpected way, in a really dark, emotionally loaded scene. It worked in such a beautiful and graceful way. It’s because it’s the most cheery McCartney, it’s full-blown upbeat and poppy McCartney. And this is the darkest-of-the-dark human pain, and it lands in this way that is such a bold choice, such a powerful move.

What should people listen to after watching Minari? One record I’ve been listening to a lot recently is Jeff Tweedy’s Love is the King. It could be a good companion to Minari. I’m a huge fan of his and it’s a gorgeous record. It’s very stripped-down and emotionally raw, and it’s both hopeful and heartbreaking.

Which filmmakers would you love to work with next? I’m always afraid to answer this question because there are so many filmmakers I admire. There are filmmakers I grew up with loving their films—working with Miranda was that for me. Spike Jonze or Yorgos Lanthimos are directors in her world that I also love and would love to work with. But there’s so many others. Derek Cianfrance is amazing and he works with different composers. I love his choice of collaborators musically. I love that he used the late great Harold Budd to do his shows [including I Know This Much is True], and then Mike Patton, and Grizzly Bear… the music is always incredible in his projects, but he doesn’t have a go-to person. His films are so heartbreaking and powerful and really, really raw. He’s fearless.

I feel very lucky that I’ve worked on these three films which are all very much like somebody’s ripping their heart out and putting it on the screen. I feel like Derek Cianfrance does that in his films too, in this unapologetic, super-vulnerable way of just ripping his soul out and putting it out for everyone to see. It’s incredibly appealing to find those projects, because they’re really rare.

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Follow Ella on Letterboxd

‘Minari’ is available everywhere in the US that movies can be rented, and screening in select theaters in the US and other regions. Listen to the official soundtrack and more of Mosseri’s film compositions in the official Spotify playlist via Milan Records. ‘Kajillionaire’ is available on VOD now.

[sillyguyhotline]

thoughts about the first trials

hi!! i was thinking about the first trials recently and what they could be testing/how they relate to the characters, so i’m going to talk about them a little bit! just to clarify, i won’t be talking abt the trials for the characters whose trials are unknown (reko, gin, kai) or those for whom i don’t have enough context or genuinely have no ideas for (ranmaru, anzu, mai, haysaka).

Sara, Joe, Mishima, Nao, Kugie, Kanna

I lumped these together because they all have the same premise, but I do think that some of them might have different motivations. Kanna’s and Mishima’s, I believe, were intended to get the non-candidates killed off. We know that Kanna’s bed was the one the key unlocked, and for the sake of this I’m going to assume that Mishima’s was the first unlocked as well (feel free to correct me if I’m wrong). The non-candidates mean nothing to the Death Game organizers, and this is an easy way to incorporate them into a candidate’s first trial and get them killed if things go wrong. For Joe and Sara, though, I think it was different. I believe that it was meant to test Sara’s ability to put her trust in the other members of the game, starting with the most trustworthy character: her best friend. The game physically does not let you choose to take the key for yourself, and in the manga Sara deliberates over this for awhile before ultimately deciding to trust Joe. The clear difference between 15.5% Sara and 0.0% Shin is that Sara gathers the group’s trust and that Shin distinguishes himself as a loner... and their first trials respectively set this up well. I believe that Sara’s first trial was meant to set Sara up as someone who is willing to put her life in others’ hands and trust them in order to survive, whether or not this is fully true. I also think, for reasons I’ve stated before, that Joe may have been considered more important to the Death Game than the other non-candidates; there has to be a reason why he has an AI when the others don’t.

Shin

I touched on this in the previous paragraph, and we all already know how central Shin’s First Trial is to his character, but it is the straw that broke the camel’s back. AI Shin seems to have been a very gentle and innocent person, characterized by his weakness and his fear of Midori, and I believe that telling Shin he has no chance of survival forced him to relinquish the weakness and compassion that characterized him at one point. His first trial made him lose all the trust he had in others, the trust that had been beaten down for so long, and it distinctly set him apart from Sara and made him see her as an enemy. Shin and Sara are marvelous foil characters, but I think that they’re only foil characters because they were directly influenced into being that way. Shin has the potential to be self-sacrificial and only acted vicious out of panic, and Sara has the potential to be quite selfish. Shin’s trial was intended to break him and force him to embody that 0.0%.

Keiji and Megumi

I really don’t think Megumi was ever really intended to survive this trial. We don’t know exactly what went on with this, but it seems as though Keiji had the choice between pressing a button to save her or letting her die... and he chose the latter. I think this was intended to test how far Keiji’s trauma and willingness to trust and forgive extended. After all, Keiji’s showdown with Midori revolves around him “confronting his trauma” and “getting over his trauma.” It’s clearly influenced who he is today and it’s key to most of those decisions, so I think that it was meant to test how much it still affected him and (consequently) what potential he had to hurt those around him or hurt himself as a result of it.

Alice + Hinako (?)

Okay, so I know that as of 3-1a this hasn’t been confirmed yet, but I’m pretty damn sure Alice and Hinako’s trials were the ones in the connected room. It would make sense with how Alice remarks on recognizing the room, and how Hinako (presumably) was hanging in the air during her victim video. As with the other trials, it seems to test trust, most notably self-preservation. With what we can tell from Alice, he’s a person who is very compassionate to the people he’s close to but also values himself and his own safety highly. This is a very distinct contrast to Hinako, who seemed to be suicidal and thanked Ranger for killing her. Perhaps it was an easy way to get Hinako killed off, or it was a test of what happens when two people with very different values of their lives become reliant on each other to survive. 

Q-taro

Q-taro’s trial puzzles me, because it presently appears to be the only First Trial that occurred for an extended period of time. Perhaps there will be one that continued past the ending of the others’ that we were unaware of? I’m not fully sure what it was meant to test, but I think it might be significant that they took the character who is incredibly adamant about playing by the rules and made him set up the cards without knowing what the rules were. Or, perhaps he was told what the rules were and he had to deal with the moral dilemma of setting the cards out in a way that could influence who died... but was technically still abiding by the rules?

Naomichi

Naomichi’s seems pretty simple- it looks like he had to run between a pair of closing walls to press a button. I honestly think that his was meant to test his strength and endurance; he has the second highest survival rate, and from what we can tell he’s not particularly cunning or clever. He probably got that rate because of how his strength and physical prowess correspond to his survivability, honestly, and his First Trial was meant to test how far that strength went. 

(as a final note at the end, ik i wasn’t going to cover Hayasaka, but it’s entirely -possible that he and Megumi were both put in unsurvivable First Trials because they had too much critical information on ASUNARO. He clearly did research on the candidates beforehand, and Megumi seemed to be complicit in the ASUNARO-related corruption in the police force. Her trial was definitely biased against her; as for his, I can’t say. Either way, it would make sense if they were intended to die from the start because they knew too much. Thanks for reading, hope this was coherent lmao)   

[kyra-bane]

the old guard - kinktober day 4 - take the risk

rating: explicit

pairing: book of nile

prompt: (almost) caught in the act

extra tags: sneaking around; cunnilingus; vaginal sex

word count: 5260 (HOW)

notes: thanks to @nevermindirah for suggesting the pairing/general idea for this fic - i hope it’s as funny and sexy as i wanted it to be! (mind the gentle pining, i cannot NOT write pining)

read on ao3 or keep reading below

Nile is half an hour early to the café. She has the book Nicky gifted her on their arrival in Cologne – he and Joe arrived first, after a quick jaunt away – but even though it’s open in front of her, she hasn’t read a word of it.

It’s been four years since Merrick, four years of missions and travelling and dying, which happens a lot, more often than any of them let on, and Nile still hasn’t told them she’s been talking to Booker all of that time.

She certainly hasn’t told them she’s been meeting up with him for the past two years and that for the past eight months, since three weeks of being stuck in a two-room apartment in Paris with Joe and Nicky apparently reliving their honeymoon phase had gotten to be a bit too much, they’ve been, well…

Booker, it turns out, doesn’t care much for the term fuck buddies. Nile is trying not to use friends with benefits because she doesn’t want him to think the sex is the only benefit of their being friends.

Besides, it’s not like they do it every time they meet. For one thing, they don’t always have the time – Andy, Joe, and Nicky like to keep one of them with her at all times, generally, and she understands the urge – but for another, they are friends, and so sometimes their hanging out is just that: hanging out, no strings attached.

She knows why she’s half an hour early to the café, though. She doesn’t want to admit it to herself. It’s the same reason her stomach’s fluttered the last three times she’s met him; it’s why she smiles every time he sends her a text…

It’s why she’s thinking of calling the whole thing off. The sex part, at least. The rest of it is mostly fine, and she’s somehow convinced herself that if they go back to being friends then she’ll only see him as a friend – which has to happen, because she sure as hell can’t dump a truckload of feelings on him. He’s still dealing with everything that happened with Merrick, all that stuff in his past, and it wouldn’t be fair; not to mention the fact that it does make her angry too, sometimes, to imagine Nicky and Joe strapped down by that doctor–

Nile slams the book shut and startles when she sees Booker standing opposite her. He has his hands on the chair she’s resting her foot against and his amused smile makes her blush.

So, as she ever does, she powers through. “Book!” she exclaims, standing up to pull him into a hug that’s just a little too tight. He suffers through good-naturedly, his hands big and warm on her back, and when they part, he orders his coffee from a server who smiles at him just a little too long.

Not that Nile can blame her. Booker looks good, and she’s not just thinking that because they haven’t seen each other in a couple of weeks. He’s wearing jeans that are just as tight as they should be to show off his thighs, and when he shrugs off his coat, his t-shirt stretches across his shoulders.

Nile tears her eyes away, down to the cover of her book. She’d said, in her text, that they could just get coffee; the others are out this afternoon on the other side of the city, exploring something or other Joe was very excited about this morning, and they’re expecting to meet her for dinner.

She knows Booker’s staying at a hotel pretty far away and their apartment is just around the corner, really, but that’s too risky–

She realises, suddenly, that Booker’s saying something to her.

“Sorry?”

He chuckles. His hair is falling in his face, just a little, and she resists the urge to push it back. “I asked if the book was any good,” he says. “But you appear… preoccupied.”

Nile pushes the book aside. “I didn’t really read any of it,” she admits. They’ve promised to be honest with each other, though sometimes, she knows they are both careful to not offer more truth than they intend. “But I assume it’ll be interesting. Nicky gave it to me.”

Booker doesn’t flinch as much now, when she mentions the others. There’s still a brief pass of sadness over his face, but it is gone as quickly as it came.

“He always had good taste,” Booker says, tapping the cover. “Although, you know he will quiz you on it.”

She pulls a face and Booker laughs. The server brings his coffee; he thanks her in German and this time, she blushes. Nile leans back in her chair and when Booker’s eyes track her movements – even though she’s not doing anything, not really – she feels a curl of satisfaction. She’s not a jealous person, not really, it’s only that she sees him so rarely, she finds she wants to soak up all of his attention.

“So,” she says. “What are you doing in town?”

He wouldn’t tell her over text, which was unusual. One of the first messages he sent her, he asked her to never tell her any details of the missions she was going on, but he always tells her why he’s nearby. Always.

When he doesn’t answer, Nile narrows her eyes. She leans forward when she sees the pink dusting his cheekbones.

“Booker?”

He sips his coffee and she’s trying not to laugh, lips twitching because she trusts him, she knows that, so whatever he’s keeping from her cannot be all that serious.

“Ah, ma chérie,” Booker says and when he looks her in the eye, Nile doesn’t much feel like laughing anymore. “I came because you were here, of course.”

Oh, fuck. So maybe she’s not the only one who’s caught feelings but there’s really very little room in her mind for that, because she’s thinking of all the ways to show this ridiculous man, who last time she heard was in the Caribbean, so he’s sure as hell travelled miles to be here, that she really, really lo–

Nope! She pushes that thought straight out of her head and knocks one ankle against Booker’s under the table.

“Please tell me you’re nearly done with that coffee.”

Booker, at least, has the good grace not to pretend he doesn’t know what she’s talking about. “Finished,” he says. He still has half a cup left; neither of them mention it.

“Our apartment is around the corner.”

His hand lands on her knee. “The others?”

Nile shrugs. It’s risky but she doesn’t care – but if Booker does, then they can always make the trek to his hotel, although she’ll have to come up with a good reason for cancelling on dinner.

More importantly, she isn’t sure she can wait that long. She reaches out, touches the back of Booker’s hand and he turns it without hesitation, tangling his fingers in hers.

“Let’s go,” he says and that might just be the most wonderful thing anyone has ever said to her.

***

Nile shouts, “Hello?” as she lets herself into the apartment ahead of Booker. His hands are tight on her hips already – he’s so close behind her that she can feel his breath on the back of her neck – but they both wait for a moment, listening.

No one replies and she can’t hear the tell-tale sounds of movement, which means that Nicky and Joe aren’t back. Even if they’d come in for an afternoon nap, Nicky would have woken when the door opened.

Andy might be there, but Booker skims his lips along her shoulder and Nile decides, fuck it, she’ll just have to risk it.

The door closes and she turns, pushing Booker up against it. Her purse and the book land on the floor but she doesn’t care because now she’s got her mouth on his and she’s framing his face with her hands and his hands are roaming, so greedily she can’t even stand it. They part, as he grabs a handful of her ass – he’s getting daring but she likes it – and then again when she slides her fingers into his hair, tugging gently on blond strands. He pants helplessly when she does that, pupils blown already and Nile presses open-mouthed kisses down the pale skin of his throat.

“Nile,” he moans, voice husky and God, it does something to her, hearing him like that. “Nile, I want to touch you, please…”

She pulls his hair again. She knows she can, knows it will make him whine at the back of his throat, and when she presses up against him, those tight jeans are doing nothing to hide how hard he already is. Nile kisses him again, swallowing down his moan, but then he sucks on her lower lip, pulls her close so that his thigh is between her legs, and she feels her knees go weak.

She’s sure she’s hurting him, just a little, where her fingers are digging into his shoulders, but he simply lifts her like she weighs nothing at all. Fuck, but that gets her too, every time, and so she wraps her legs around his waist, because good behaviour really ought to be rewarded.

“Ma tigresse,” he murmurs, nosing at her jaw before he kisses down her throat. “Your bedroom, where is it?”

He licks along her collarbone and Nile squirms in his grip. She wants him so badly, now, that she almost aches for it. “Down the hall. First on the left.”

They kiss again and then he’s walking, still carrying her, and she’s sucking on his earlobe, rolling her hips against him. He fumbles with the doorknob and Nile laughs, breathily; he stumbles inside and, when the door closes behind them, he drops her unceremoniously onto the bed.

She’s about to protest but he’s shrugging off his jacket and already sliding to his knees and Nile grabs at the coverlet in anticipation. Christ, but she’s been wet since she thought of dragging him back to the apartment – and her stomach flutters because he’s so good at this, looks so pretty on his knees and is oh-so-willing to please…

Booker curls his fingers around her right calf, tugs her closer to the edge of the bed, and then he’s kissing her knee, lips travelling up her inner thigh, and the rough drag of his beard leaves a tingling sensation in its wake. He’s never a tease, though; once he’s face to face with her, he lets out a hot breath, almost a sigh, then licks her over her underwear, and even dampened by the fabric between them, Nile lets out a curse.

He’s just – so fucking good at this, so into it, and today is no different. He gently presses her thighs apart as he flicks his tongue over where her clit is, and Nile arches up into him. She wants to pull off her underwear but she’s too busy grabbing at the bed, and besides, she knows better than to hurry him along. He’s sucking at the fabric, licking her, rubbing his nose against her and Nile’s legs twitch, she feels her thighs try to clamp shut, but he just gently spreads her open again.

When she’s cursing up at the ceiling, he finally pulls back, pressing a sticky kiss to her inner thigh. Her skirt is already rucked up around her waist. Booker tugs off her shoes, then reaches up, drumming his fingers against the soft skin on her stomach.

Nile lifts her head. He’s looking up at her, lips shiny and slick, and she groans.

“May I?” he asks, the picture of innocence, and she nods.

“Fuck yes, please…”

She lifts her hips as he pulls off her thong, throwing it to the floor. Whatever he sees on her face, after that, is enough – he licks along her vulva, presses his tongue inside her and Nile rests her right leg on his shoulder, wanting to get him deeper, still. It’s even better now she can heal; his beard leaves her sensitive but she knows there’ll be no lingering pain, and she knows too, from copious experience, that they can both keep going more or less as long as they’d like.

She rocks her hips towards him and he growls, dragging her a little further off the bed. She lifts her other leg and now her thighs are pressing either side of his face but he doesn’t seem to mind. Instead, he sucks on her clit, working one finger inside of her, and Nile wants to scream. He’s relentless, it’s like he can’t get enough, and the best part is that she knows he isn’t even touching himself; all his single-minded focus is on her, on getting her off.

“Book,” she moans, reaching down to grab his hair again. He withdraws his finger immediately, eyes flicking up to meet hers. “Let me…”

Booker licks along her again, tongue flicking against her clit, and nods. He buries her face back against her and she holds him in place as she rolls her hips. Last time they fucked, he had her sit on his face and ride him like this – and then, when she’d come, he’d rolled her over and used his mouth and fingers to bring her off again.

She really, really wants his cock inside of her, though, so she pushes herself against him harder, faster, and everything is hot and wet and messy and he’s moaning just from this, fingers pressing tight enough on her thighs to leave bruises and–

Nile pushes her hips forward, Booker catches her clit between his lips, and she moans as her orgasm rolls through her, her legs twitching from the force of it. One of her legs drops from his shoulders but he holds the other in place, resting his head on her thigh.

For a moment or two, Nile lies there, trying to catch her breath. Booker waits, but when she says, “Come here,” he rises instantly up onto his knees, lets her reel him in. They kiss and when she tastes herself on his tongue, she squirms again. The movement brings her into contact with his cock, still confined in those tight jeans, and Booker groans.

“How do you want me, mon trésor?” he murmurs against her lips.

Nile leans back, looks at him as though she hasn’t already made up her mind.

“Naked,” she says finally – because why not, when they’ve got a room all to themselves, “And I’m gonna ride you.”

He nods and scrambles to his feet, pulling his t-shirt up and over his head, and Nile clears her throat. Booker pauses with his hands already on the waistband of his jeans.

“Slower,” she says, because she’ll be damned if she’s not getting a show out of this, too.

He smiles almost bashfully, hair falling in his face again, and then pops the button on his jeans, lowers the zipper. Nile is leaning back on her elbows and she doesn’t even care about how on display she is because she only has eyes for him.

Booker has already kicked off his shoes and when he starts to lower his jeans, Nile’s mouth goes dry. He’s not wearing any underwear – which she should have been able to tell, she supposes – which means he knew before she did that they’d end up here, and he’s absolutely ready for it.

She lets out a frustrated noise and pulls off her skirt, kneeling up on the bed to take her shirt off, too. Booker’s there when she throws it to the floor, kissing her, and when his hands go for the band of her bra, she lets him. He’s got just a little chest hair that feels so good against her skin, even better once he removes the bra and she presses up against him.

“You are beautiful, mon ange,” Booker says. He’s not usually so generous with the endearments, but Nile does like them, though with all this conditioning she isn’t sure he can ever use them outside of the bedroom.

She maps his skin with her hands, trying to convey her reply in every touch, and then she pulls him onto the bed because she wants a lot – she wants everything­ – but what she wants most is Booker, inside her, right now.

Still, he surges up to kiss her breasts, sucking on one nipple and then the other, and Nile is in his lap, his cock hard against her ass as she rocks back against it. She moans when he bites down and then freezes – they both do – when she hears the apartment door close.

“Fuck,” she hisses. The murmur of low voices reaches them and Booker looks just as startled as she does.

“Do you think they heard us?” he asks and Nile shakes her head.

“I don’t think so, but we have to–”

Heavy, purposeful footsteps head toward her door and Nile almost startles out of her own skin when someone knocks on the wood.

“You have to hide,” she says to Booker.

“Where?”

She climbs off his lap, looks around the room – and he’s right, there’s really nowhere to hide in here. She can see clean under the bed and there’s no wardrobe, so that’s the two most common spots out.

Except – there is a small balcony attached to this room, the reason she’d argued with Nicky and Joe for it.

“Out there,” she hisses.

He looks at her, looks at the window, and then looks back at her again.

“You have to be kidding me!” Another knock. “Nile, they will still see me–”

“Not if you–”

“Nile, are you alright?” It’s Joe. She and Booker exchange another look and then he’s scrambling for the window and she’s grabbing her robe off the hook on the back of the door.

“Yes! Just a second!”

Booker is out of the window and when she turns around, she can’t see him. She grabs all their clothes, depositing the pile on the other side of the bed and then quickly adjusts the sheets on the way past. Hopefully, it’ll look more like she’s been napping than anything else. Thank fuck they heal quickly because she has no way of explaining any visible marks away.

She opens the door an inch and Joe peers in at her. “Are you sure you are alright?” he asks.

Nile shrugs. “Fine. Why?”

“You left these by the door.”

He holds up her purse and the book.

“If you didn’t like the book, you could have just said,” Nicky calls from somewhere else in the apartment.

“Oh, no, I do! I just… I was tired so I came back, I must have dropped them by the door.” Not for the first time, she curses the fact that they never get sick. She can’t feign a headache, or food poisoning, or anything else, which would be incredibly helpful right now.

She opens the door a little wider when Joe holds out her things and doesn’t miss the way his eyes sweep her room.

“I thought I heard someone in here with you,” he says finally and she shrugs.

“I had a podcast playing,” she replies. “One of those sleep ones. Probably that.”

He nods, as if understanding, and then smiles. “Well, we came back to get Nicky another shirt. Someone spilt wine on his.”

“You did!” Nicky shouts. Ah, he’s in their room – he emerges now, flattening his hair with his hands. “Someone, really?”

Joe laughs and kisses him on the cheek before he turns back to Nile. “You are still joining us for dinner?”

Nile resists the urge to look back. She doesn’t know how Booker’s hiding on the balcony and she really wants them to go; maybe this was a terrible idea…

“Yep!” she says. “Just text me the time and the place and I’ll meet you there.”

Joe opens his mouth, as if to say something else, but Nicky elbows him in the side and nods. “Enjoy the rest of your nap,” he says, and then he’s dragging Joe away.

Nile waits until she hears the apartment door shut to run to the balcony. It really isn’t large and all of it is visible through the window – so when she looks down and sees a completely naked Booker hanging from the iron railing, she almost isn’t surprised.

She reaches down and together, they get him back up again; she hustles him back into the room because he’s shivering already.

“Are they gone?” Booker asks and Nile opens her robe, pulls him against her to try and warm him as best she can.

“Yes,” she says against his chest. “Look, I know I should tell them, I just–”

“No, ma chérie, do not worry about that. That is a discussion for another time.” They both have good reason to keep this under wraps, after all.

His fingers are running up and down her spine and Nile smiles, turns her face up for a kiss. Booker obliges and when she starts walking him back toward the bed, he goes. They part when she pushes him onto the mattress and he watches as she slips the robe from her shoulders. He’s not hard, when she crawls over him, so she kisses him, reaches down and strokes him. She likes feeling him fill in her hand – likes it more in her mouth – and especially the way he moans against her lips, letting out little gasping breaths as his cock hardens.

Nile leans back to look at him. She’s still stroking him, almost absentmindedly, and she scores marks down his chest with her free hand. He doesn’t shy away from the touch. The red marks fade almost immediately.

“I can’t say it as nicely as you,” Nile says, “But fuck, you’re hot.”

Booker blushes at that and Nile’s straddling one of his thighs, rubs herself against him. She’s ready for him again – wants that inexorable feeling of being full to the brim of him – and so she shifts, positioning herself above him.

He grabs her hips as she starts lowering herself down. Booker might not have the biggest cock she’s ever fucked but he’s thick and she takes it slowly, rocking back and forth as each inch fills her. She moans when she’s taken him to the base and smiles at the sweat that’s broken out on Booker’s brow. He won’t move until she does and, just to tease, she squeezes around him.

Booker throws his head back and groans, fingers on her hips tightening. She sees the advantage to not, but sometimes she wishes she could wear the bruises he presses into her skin for days.

“Tell me you want it,” she says. He makes her feel so in control – of herself, of him. Still, he reaches up, thumbs a nipple so that she gasps.

“Ride me, ma tigresse,” he says and shifts his hips. “Show me I am yours.”

Oh, but that just isn’t fair. Nile plants her hands on his chest and lifts herself up and down, letting him slip out a little way before he fills her up again. He trails his hands up and down her thighs, content to watch for now as she fucks herself on his cock over and over – she isn’t sure if she wants to come first and have him work for his own orgasm, or if she wants him to come inside her and then rub her clit to the sound of his cries.

After a few moments, he sits up, shifting so he seems to somehow end up deeper, and they settle into a fast rhythm. He’s closer than she thought, fucking up into her hard and fast, and she scratches her nails over his scalp, pulls his hair. His eyes flutter shut and she kisses his cheek, his nose. Pleasure is chasing up her spine – Booker’s thrusts are getting uncoordinated – and she wants this moment to last forever, just the two of them in this bubble of intimacy like she’s never experienced before.

Booker tips his head forward, mouths at her neck and Nile grinds down against him. She reaches between them but he bats her hand away, rubs her clit with his thumb. “Booker,” she hisses, “Fuck.”

“So eloquent,” he laughs but he sounds wrecked and when she bites his bottom lip, he groans and comes, the hand he has on her hip squeezing tight.

She waits it out with him but when she goes to move off him, he holds her in place. They’re sweaty, the room smells like sex, and he sucks a mark against her throat as he starts rubbing her clit again. She rocks on his cock, still inside her, and God he has to be oversensitive but he makes no sound of protest, and when he licks over the mark he’s made, she comes with a cry, all but collapsing into his arms.

Eventually, they separate and lie beside each other. Booker reaches over, entwines his fingers with hers, then kisses the back of her hand. She closes her eyes. He really is going to be the death of her.

***

Two hours later, Nile leaves Booker at the S-Bahn station. They find a spot to wait, outside of the reach of any of the cameras, and Nile licks into his mouth, sucks on his tongue. She can’t help herself; if the situation between them all was any other way, she would have locked them both in that bedroom for a week or more.

He pulls back as the train starts to pull in. “I have to go,” he says, and he sounds sad again, which just breaks her heart.

“Text me when you get back,” she replies, “And if we have time again, while we’re here–”

“No promises,” Booker warns – another of their agreements, along with always telling each other the truth.

“No promises,” Nile agrees. “Just a wish.”

He smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling, and kisses her on the forehead. His train is here; he has to go.

“Au revoir, mon rêve.”

“Au revoir.”

She watches him leave, then waits at the station for another fifteen minutes. He’s obviously not going to turn around and come back – what would that achieve? – but she needs some time to get her thoughts in order.

In the end, she arrives at the restaurant ten minutes before the others. She’s learnt enough German to ask after their reservation, and all three seem surprised to see her there first, but they don’t mention it. Instead, they tell her all about their day – including the lead up to the wine incident – and by the time their food arrives, Nile doesn’t feel so bad about sneaking around.

Nicky is chatting to Andy about some exhibit they saw at a museum when Joe turns to look at Nile. He seems vaguely concerned, so she puts her fork down and takes a sip of her wine.

“We should go shopping tomorrow,” he says. “Those clothes really will not do, habibti.”

Nile frowns and looks down at her outfit. She’s wearing dark jeans and a gold top that Joe had liked when she’d bought it and shown it off to him. “I’m sorry, what exactly do you think is wrong with this outfit?”

Andy snickers. Joe shakes his head. “Not that outfit,” he says. He looks around and then lowers his voice conspiratorially. “Nile, you are of course fine to wear whatever you want. But if you are going to choose men’s clothes then at least let me pass on some wisdom.”

Nile looks from Joe to Nicky to Andy. They all look back at her, entirely straight-faced.

She really doesn’t get it.

“What are we talking about?”

Joe shrugs. “I mean, we have all had to do it. I don’t like wearing women’s clothes myself, but my Nicolò–” He smiles, and it’s a particularly indulgent one, “Well, he went through a period of trying dresses in the sixteenth century. He really looks quite fetching, we should try it again some time. Although they are, of course, difficult to remove, so I can see why you might be inclined to try something simpler…”

Nicky waves Joe off, mouth full of food as he rolls his eyes.

“And Andy has not really ever conformed to how people believe women should dress–”

“Clothes have no gender,” Andy says on a sigh and if Nile were not so bewildered by the situation, she thinks she might have laughed, at that.

“So, we are not new to this idea. And it’s nice that you’re trying something new! Just, please, I cannot convince Nico to let me dress him all the time but I will not have you fall victim to a lack of fashion sense.”

Nile stares at him for a moment, two, before her brain catches up with her.

He must have seen Booker’s clothes. She debates, for a moment, how much of the truth she can tell versus the painful future where Joe takes her shopping – in all earnest – and she has to pretend she’s enjoying it. Not that she’s all that bothered by what kind of clothes she wears, either, but she does prefer to choose them for herself.

She rubs her temple and as she does, she catches sight of Nicky’s expression. Completely neutral.

Too neutral.

“You assholes,” she says, though it is without heat. “Would you have actually let me go through with that?”

Andy cackles and holds out her hand. Nicky pays her, which Nile thinks is fair, since he’s the one who gave the game away.

“I would have chosen some very nice outfits,” Joe says and he’s only pouting a little, so Nile laughs.

“Okay, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I had… someone back to the apartment. I just…”

“We know,” Nicky says.

“I mean, I know I’m an adult and it’s not a big deal, I just wanted to–”

“No, you don’t understand,” Andy interrupts. “We know.”

All the blood drains from Nile’s face. “Ah. When did you…?”

Nicky shrugs. “It was obvious you were texting him,” he says. “We were all in the room with you.”

Well, shit. She thought she’d been more subtle than that.

“And the rest?”

“Guessed you were meeting him about eighteen months ago,” Andy says. “The sex part is new.”

For a second, Nile prays for the ground to swallow her up. Then she realises who hasn’t spoken. She looks at Joe.

“You’re not mad at me, are you?”

He smiles and it reaches his eyes. “Of course not, habibti. But I still do not wish to see him. Not yet.”

“Yeah, okay… Okay.”

She’s relieved, and when Nicky kicks her gently under the table, she laughs, because they might not want to see Booker yet, but they’re clearly happy for what she’s found with him.

“I do have one question,” Nicky says. “Where was Booker hiding, when we, ah, interrupted you earlier? There is nowhere to hide in that room.”

“Uh…” Nile starts, but Andy beats her to it.

“His bare ass was hanging over the balcony,” she says. “I had a hunch; went around back to check.”

Nicky nods and then looks at Joe; there’s a dangerous gleam in his eye and Nile gets the feeling all the attention will be off her soon enough.

“Reminds me of Boston, hayati. Remember? When you–”

Joe throws a bread roll at him and Nile laughs. She really does love her new family – all of them, even if she can’t see them all at once.

[queenmylovely]

Wedding Party I

Summary: Ben hardy x fem!reader. Lucy and Rami’s wedding is coming up and you and Ben are both part of the wedding party, with one catch. 

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: cussing, fluff, some roasting of reader 

A/N: This is the third and final part of my 500 follower celebration!! Though you might be able to guess that this will have more than one part, so stay tuned! Thank you so much again to everyone who follows me, including the people that have since I hit 500, cause it’s been a minute, whoops. I’m hoping to post updates to this weekly until it’s done. (Side note, obviously not shaming reader and neither are any of her friends, including Lucy, she just doesn’t want any drama.) Any feedback is super appreciated but especially replies, messages, and asks are super helpful for my writing ‘cause I get to hear what you think!

Part II, Part III, Part IV, Mini i, Mini ii, Masterlist

(hot hot hot gif by @mrbenhardys​)

💖💖💖

Over the past couple years, you had found yourself attending no fewer than three weddings a year, and last year broke the record with six. It was always a bit of a to do but you enjoyed it nonetheless, happy to see your friends happy and to go to a party. You hadn’t always been so happy to go; originally you were a little cynical and bitter about being single while all of your school and university friends got married. But then, at the second wedding you had been to, you hooked up with the best man and your opinion had been changed. It was easy to be happy for the happy couple when you were having hot sex with friends of friends with no chance for strings or feelings.

As such, you had grown a bit of a reputation among your friends that had borne witness to this behavior. A few teased you about it, a couple were silent, and a few more cheered you on, but none tried to stop you. This was mainly because none of them had seen how it would negatively impact them. And it wasn’t like it was terrible, but on more than one occasion you and some other guest had been walked in on, sometimes only a heated making out, but sometimes in the act. You had apologized and even tried to make it till after the reception, but it was hard sometimes with all the free booze and romantic songs and pretty lights making you hornier than ever.

Maybe there had been some awkward happenings when it was a destination wedding and the wedding party had events the next day. While you were happy with the one and done, some of the men you had hooked up with would be miffed when you kicked them out after the deed and didn’t seem so interested the next morning. After a couple uncomfortable brunches where everyone could feel the tension in the air (and not the good kind), you had decided to stick with the guys that were just a bit douchey and wouldn’t be so pained at a one night stand. Not that they didn’t sometimes get butthurt when you dropped ‘em too.

But to you, that was the beauty of the thing: hot sex for one night and one night only. You and whoever else you were with would exist in a made-up wedding world for the ceremony, reception, a couple hours of fucking, and then it would all be over and you could go back to your real world without any consequences. Okay, so only a couple consequences.

You thought that you would be able to keep this up indefinitely; you had a ton of friends in relationships who would have plenty of eligible bachelors at their weddings. That is, until your best friend, Lucy, got engaged to Rami. When she had invited you over for brunch just the two of you and had told you the news, you were enthralled for her. Rami was an amazing guy and you had never seen Lucy as happy as when she was with him. And then you were enthralled for yourself when you thought about all Rami’s actor friends that would undoubtedly be there. You had already met a couple, Joe and Gwilym, and if they were any sign of what level of men would be there, you couldn’t wait.

Your daydreams all came crashing down around you when Lucy abruptly said, “You’re not allowed to fuck anyone at my wedding.”

The two of you had just separated from your happy hug so she put her hands on your shoulders to make sure you looked at her and were paying attention.

“I-I-- What?” you stumbled out, brought from your reverie that was running through a list of A-list celebrity names that might be at the wedding. You tried to look innocent but the fiery look in Lucy’s eyes stopped you. So instead you whined, “Why?”

Lucy just rolled her eyes, though fondly, and replied, “Sit down.”

The two of you sat down at the wonderful brunch she (probably with help from Rami who was quite the home cook) had made and plated a couple items, poured mimosas, and you took your first bite before she continued.

“Obviously, Rami and I are very private people. We don’t like our relationship broadcasted to the public, and Rami feels that way about most of his life in general. So we’ve decided to have a really small wedding. We want it to be intimate and to share our love with each person that attends. We don’t feel like we have to prove anything or live up to any crazy standard and invite hundreds of people, half of whom we’ve never even spoken to,” Lucy explained, and throughout her little speech you felt yourself get a little emotional because you could tell how truly and deeply she and Rami loved each other. Lucy’s voice cracked a little and you reached your hand over to hers to give it a gentle squeeze.

Lucy took a sip of her drink and then said with a more pointed tone, “So because we are close friends or family with every single person that will be there, we don’t want anybody… fraternizing with anybody else and causing… awkward circumstances for us or any of the guests.”

“‘We,’ Lucy? Rami told you he didn’t want me fucking anyone?” you asked sarcastically.

“Well, when I say we I mean me, mainly. But Rami does want a drama-free wedding, as do I,” Lucy conceded. As she finished her sentence, Rami walked in having returned from what looked like the gym.

“What about me? Hi Y/N, hi sweet,” Rami said, dropping a kiss to your cheek briefly and then giving Lucy a more substantial one on the lips.

“Oh we were just talking about the wedding, you know,” Lucy said and Rami grinned.

“Did you ask her?” he inquired.

“Ask me what?”

“Well you know that Emma and I have had a pact to have each other as our maids of honour since we were like two and three,” she started and you nodded, knowing the story because she and her sister had relayed it many times over the years you had known them. “But will you do me the honour of being one of my bridesmaids?” A big smile took over your face and you jumped up to hug her, practically yelling “yes!” into her ear. Then you brought Rami into the hug as well, all of you laughing and smiling.

When that was done, you all sat back down, Rami pulling up a chair and grabbing a plate. Then you turned to him and said, “So Rami, Luce was just about to tell me about all of your friends that are going to be there.”

You were just teasing, but as you saw Lucy’s miffed face, you couldn’t help yourself. “You know, I really liked meeting Joe and Gwilym, it’d be nice to see them again. And can’t forget about that Ben who you all talk so much about. ‘Haven’t met him yet, but I’m sure the wedding will fix that.”

So that Lucy couldn’t see, you winked at Rami to make sure he knew you were joking, mostly.

Before you could say another word, Lucy burst out, “No, do not fuck anyone. Okay? Do. Not. Fuck. Anyone. Especially Ben.”

Your ears perked up at that, “Ben? Why especially Ben?”

“Uhhhhhhh,” Lucy hesitated for a second, a look of panic taking over her face.

“Because you guys will be walking together and you’ll spend the most time together,” Rami saved her.

“Yeah, it would mess up the whole party’s dynamic. Just don’t okay?” Lucy asked with a pleading look in her eyes to make you feel guilty.

“Okay, geez, I won’t. You guys act like I’m some floozy who can’t keep it in her pants,” you half-pouted for a second, but then they both gave you a look. “Whatever, I won’t, I won’t!”

_

Unbeknownst to you, the reason they were so hell-bent on keeping your attention off Ben specifically was not because he was the groomsman to your bridesmaid (although that would’ve been reason enough). It was actually because Ben had the exact same reputation amongst his friends as you did yours.

After he had gotten out of a more serious relationship a couple years ago, he hadn’t settled down again. With plenty of friends getting married, his was the same fruitful situation as yours, and he used it to his benefit. The wedding scene was a lot more reliable than just hitting up any old bar or pub.

Ben had also gotten the no fucking speech, but from Rami when he asked him to be a groomsman. He had agreed to the rule with a begrudging nod. Ben was easier to convince since he was mutual friends with a lot of Lucy and Rami’s friends and would know most everyone at the wedding.

While you and Lucy had been best friends for years, you weren’t an actress and didn’t already know most of her actor friends. Because of Lucy’s filming schedules and locations, you relied on a lot of facetime to keep up with each other. You had only met Joe because you had tagged along on a Venice trip with Lucy and Rami. Gwilym you had got to know a bit more because whenever Lucy and Rami were in town for more than a week they liked to have dinner parties or game nights and both of you were frequently in attendance. Ben’s filming schedule or other priorities had always prevented him from joining in, at least for times you had gone.

Of course you had seen pictures of Ben on everyone’s instagram, and maybe had done some stalking of your own. Not to mention you watched Bohemian Rhapsody, obviously, and had caught a couple of other things he had been in just by happenstance. He seemed like a pretty good actor and a pretty great guy from what you could tell. Plus, you trusted the judgement of your friends about his character.

_____

Lucy and Rami weren’t ones to do the more extravagant things that some engaged couples did. Instead of a big engagement party, they decided to have a dinner party with just their families and the wedding party.

The party started at 6:30pm, so you got there… at 6:50pm. You hadn’t meant to be late but you couldn’t decide between two dresses, worrying that the one you wanted to wear would be too dressy. You ended up going for it anyway, it was black with an opaque sweetheart neckline and a mesh and lace section that made it sleeveless and so it wasn’t actually strapless. It wasn’t bodycon but it hugged your curves nicely and had gold shimmery thread as part of the lace that caught the light. You had also done your makeup and hair quickly but thought that the overall effect was nice.

As you arrived at their door, you tried the handle, hoping it was open so you could slip in quietly, but no dice. So you knocked twice and stepped back to wait. No answer came so you knocked again louder and waited again. Just as you were about to raise your hand again, the door swung open and you saw Joe there.

He smiled when he recognized you; the two of you had become quick friends during those couple days in Venice.

But before he could say anything, you glanced past him and asked, “Dinner hasn’t started, right? I’m not that late?”

Joe laughed and shook his head, “No, everyone’s still getting drinks and stuff. You’re only like five minutes behind the last person to arrive. Nice to see you by the way.”

You laughed sheepishly and leaned in for the hug he offered, “Nice to see you too, Joe. How’s everything?”

The two of you headed further into the apartment as he told you, “Pretty good. I'm actually starting filming just outside London so I’ll be over here basically until right after the wedding. No trips back and forth for me.”

“That’s great! And that means you’ll be ‘round for game nights. I’ll have to warn you that Gwilym and I make a great team.”

Joe scoffed at that, “Gwil and I are a great team, thank you very much.”

“Funny, he hasn’t mentioned anything to me about your skills,” you shot back with a smirk.

“Guess we’ll just have to ask him.”

“Guess we will.”

Gwilym ended up being the first person the two of you saw as you entered the living room. He saw you walk in and headed over quickly with a big smile on his face.

“Ah Y/N, glad you made it!” he said, leaning down for a peck on the cheek and a quick hug.

“Yep, and only 20 fashionable minutes late,” you replied and the three of you laughed.

“Alright, alright, introductions are over. We have something to settle with you Gwil,” Joe said seriously.

“Oh?” Gwil asked, a little confused.

“That’s right. Joe and I wanted to know which one of us is the best game night partner,” you asked, pointing an accusatory finger as Joe squinted his eyes at him.

Gwil broke out in laughter, which only seemed slightly nervous. “Well you see… It’s like comparing apples and oranges. Y/N you’re better at trivia but Joe you’re really good at charades.”

Joe and you looked at each other and then back to Gwil.

“Seems like a bit of a cop-out to me,” Joe pointed out.

“Yeah, why don’t you just give us a real--”

“Y/N! There you are!” you heard Lucy calling out to you and you turned to see your best friend excusing herself from some of her family members. She half ran over to you and pulled you in for a tight hug.

“Hey you look nice,” you told her when you pulled back and could see her outfit. She was in a flowy cream colored dress with ruffles and gold ribbon sewn in.

“Thank you,” she replied. Then a cheeky smile took over her face and she told you, “You look a bit like a young widow attending her 80-year-old husband’s funeral after killing him in his sleep. All you’re missing is the black veil.”

“Shut up!”

“Don’t listen to her, Y/N, you look lovely,” Rami told you as he walked up.

As he kissed your cheek and you leaned in for a hug you told him while looking at Lucy, “Thank you, Rami, you truly are such a good friend.”

“I’m just telling it like it is,” Lucy shrugged to everyone’s amusement.

Everyone got to chatting and catching up, but when you were in the middle of a conversation with Gwil, Lucy pulled you away.

“Where did he get to?” Lucy wondered, looking around the room. “Who--?”

“Ah there he is,” Lucy told herself more than you and started pulling you over to the other side of the room.

You had no idea where she was leading you to until you noticed a man with blonde hair facing the other direction and talking to a couple you didn’t know. Realizing it must be Ben, your stomach dropped but whether it was out of anticipation, excitement, or anxiousness you couldn’t tell. Ben had been hyped up so much both by your friends and by the idea of him you had in your mind. Now it was even worse after that speech Lucy had given you a couple weeks ago. Even though she hadn’t meant to, she was putting all of your attention on Ben with the thought of sex in mind. Now you were just trying to stave it off so you didn’t make a fool of yourself upon meeting him.

Taking a deep breath in as Lucy tapped on his shoulder, you tried to ready yourself for anything that might happen. Ben looked quickly and saw that it was Lucy and politely excused himself from the conversation.

Even just hearing him say that made your eyes widen slightly; he had such a deep, rich voice that in any other case your mouth would practically be watering at the thought of what it would sound like in bed. Now, you had that thought but had to drop it quickly from your mind because it would lead places that weren’t allowed.

Ben finally turned around, smiling at Lucy and then his expression turned to interest when he saw you.

“Ben, I’d like you to meet my best friend, Y/N. Y/N, this is Ben,” Lucy said and the two of you shook hands, smiling and exchanging pleasantries. “Okay so you both already know that you’ll be walking together so… get to know each other! Become, acquainted, better yet become friends!”

Both of you laughed lightly at Lucy’s words and then waved her off when someone started calling for her.

“So you’re the infamous Ben,” you said jokingly, looking him up and down as if you were studying him and not as if he was just incredibly good to look at.

“Infamous? Do I have that bad of a reputation?” Ben said back good-naturedly, though he was a little worried you had heard about his penchant for sleeping with people at weddings, especially with Rami confronting him about it.

“Well, maybe not bad, more I’ve just heard about you so much without meeting you that if it weren’t for your movies I wouldn’t have thought you really existed,” you amended with a smile.

“Oh my movies, huh? You’ve seen more than one?” Ben asked cheekily and your cheeks flushed for a moment.

“Well I’ve obviously seen borhap, as you would call it, and I saw X-Men before all that to keep up with the series, and my family’s very into action movies, so I caught 6 Underground with them,” you explained.

“Seems like you’re pretty familiar with my filmography,” he pointed out with a smile.

“If that’s what you wanna think…”

“I think that you’ve been here for about ten minutes and no one’s gotten you a drink. Can I fix that?” Ben asked, gesturing to your empty hands.

“Lead the way,” you replied, and he guided you over to where a little bar was set up. On the way, you had to remind yourself again of the rules and that though a handsome man was making you a drink, that was all that was happening.

“Alright, they’ve got the works so what would you like?” Ben said with an easy smile.

“Oh, um, I like Moscow mules,” you told him.

“Good choice, good choice,” Ben replied as he looked around at the different bottles. “A Moscow mule…”

“Do you know how to make a Moscow mule?” you asked because he had missed the ginger beer bottle about three times.

“What? Of course I… don’t,” he admitted sheepishly.

“It’s okay, I can just make it,” you suggested but Ben shook his head.

“No, I said I was going to get you a drink, and I’ll make it. If you could just tell me how?” he said with a small smile.

You laughed and nodded, “Okay, so just squeeze a lime wedge into the glass and go ahead and drop it in. Then a couple ice cubes, that’s good. And now two oz. of vodka, actually why don’t you do one and a half, I don’t need two right now. Now you just fill the rest with ginger beer and give it a stir!”

Ben stirred the drink and then garnished it with another lime wedge, “Ta-da, my first ever Moscow mule and all for you!”

Taking it from him, you waited until he grabbed his own drink again and then held yours up for a cheers. After taking a sip you said, “Mmm, very good, just like a real bartender. Do you want to try?”

“Sure,” he replied with a smile and you carefully exchanged drinks so he didn’t have to hold both while he did. Your hands brushed against each other a couple times and you had to keep your breath from catching at how warm his hands were and the way he looked at you when it happened. “Oh wow, yeah that’s very good. Maybe I’ll have to have these from now on.”

“And hey, if the acting thing ever stops working out, you could always fall back on being a bartender,” you joked, unable to stop your laughter.

Ben shook his head but laughed too, saying, “That’s cold, that’s cold.”

Then he took another gulp of your drink and you reached forward to get it from him, “Hey, that’s mine, make your own if you’re so good at it.”

“Just a repayment for you being so mean. There, have it back,” he said with a smirk, handing it back to you and grabbing his own drink from your hand.

“Hmph,” you held your drink close to you to keep him from getting it again and Ben laughed at your actions, about to say something else when Rami was heard over the chatter saying that dinner was ready.

_

For dinner you were sat in between Lucy and Joe with Ben across from you and Gwilym and Rami next to him. Talk and laughter interrupted the actual eating of the meal, but it was hard to mind because everyone was having so much fun. Lucy and Rami’s families were on the other side of them, so everyone got to hear funny stories about their childhood as well.

After dinner, you and Emma had volunteered to get the dessert ready after some others had helped put away the dishes. You took it as an opportunity to catch up a little.

“So, you and that Ben seem to be hitting it off,” Emma said in a teasing tone as she started grabbing little plates from a cupboard.

“Please, you’re not doing recon for Lucy are you?” you asked with a roll of your eyes and taking the cleaned forks from the dish rack.

Emma looked at you confusedly, “What do you mean?”

“She didn’t tell you what she told me?” you asked and she shook her head. You sighed, taking the cover off the homemade sheet cake as you told her, “She told me that I wasn’t allowed to fuck anyone. And especially Ben because we’re walking together.”

Emma broke out in laughter at the words you said and the dejected way in which you said them, accidentally dropping the cake server onto the counter with a clatter, “Oh my gosh, honestly I can’t blame her, you do kinda wreak havoc on weddings.”

“That’s not fair! There’s only been like two outright verbal fights because of me,” you defended, taking the cake server yourself and starting to cut squares of cake.

“Hey, don’t take your anger out on the cake,” she pointed to your first haphazard piece of cake. ��Anyway, how many passive aggressive altercations have there been because of you?”

“I dunno,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders but Emma’s look made you add, “Fine, a lot.”

“Exactly, now Ben’s hot I’ll give you that,  but I think you can survive these next weeks without jumping his bones. It’s not like you’ll be seeing him all the time,” Emma told you.

“Yes, yes, I’ll be an adult, whatever. Lucy and Rami already covered this, you know,” you said with a bit of annoyance.

“Okay I’ll shut up. Let’s get this cake out there before there’s a riot,” she joked and you smiled, following her back into the living room with the pan of cake as she took the forks and plates.

_

Emma’s speech (you swore next it’ll be their mom telling you not to fuck Ben) did give you new resolve not to get too friendly with Ben, thinking it was better to interact with him in groups from now on.

That plan went well for most of the rest of the night as Joe, Gwilym, and Emma proved effective buffers. But then Gwilym had to leave because he had call time in the morning and Joe went with because he was staying with him. Then Emma went off to compare notes with Sami, Rami’s brother, about their respective maid of honor and best man responsibilities. You looked around and realized that because it was getting later and the families had gone home and Lucy and Rami were off doing who knows what in the kitchen, you were completely alone with Ben.

Not only that, but you were sitting right next to him on the couch and your knees were definitely touching. You tapped your fingers on your cup as you listened to Ben. He was telling you about shooting in Italy, which you had asked about because after going to Venice, you wanted to see more, but it was hard to pay attention. Your focus was being brought to his hands that he used to gesture as he talked. To his hair that he would absent-mindedly run his fingers through whenever a strand fell down onto his forehead. To his lips, oh fuck his full lips, that he licked whenever he smiled or laughed.

You could feel yourself leaning closer to him and if you weren’t wrong, his words were slowing down and he was getting closer to you too.

“So, yeah, I loved Florence, but um, Siena was something-- something special. It’s, it’s really-- really gorgeous,” Ben finished.

You looked up at him but found that he was looking at your lips and had tugged his own between his teeth. With the second drink in your system and the way you could feel Ben’s body heat radiating towards you and pulling you in, you were a second away from saying fuck it iand just kissing him.

“Are you done with your drink? Do you need another or?” Lucy’s voice asking you brought both of you out of whatever state you were in and you moved apart from each other, not so subtly.

You looked to Lucy and didn’t miss the pointed look she was giving you. “No, I should probably actually head out. I’ve got something in the morning, thanks though.”

Ben stood up when you did and you said goodbye with a strictly friendly hug. Then you said goodbye to Lucy, telling her quietly that she didn’t have to say anything. You found Rami with Emma and Sami and said goodbye to all of them.

As you were headed to the front door to let yourself out, Ben walked up behind you.

“Hold on a second,” he said and you turned around to him with a pleasant smile. “I, um, wanted to give you my number in case there’s ever anything that we need to discuss or whatever since we’re, you know, walking together.”

Ben was a little awkward getting that out, so you handed your phone to him with a bright, “Sure!” to reassure him.

He typed in his phone number and you were ready to walk away with a quick goodbye but Ben got a look in his eye. For a second you thought he was going to kiss you and your breath caught, and then he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. Although not the kiss you were expecting, it still had an effect on you. It was different to the ones you had gotten from say Gwilym or Rami. Though it was probably just as quick, it felt a lot longer and just that simple act made your whole body feel warm.

“Looking forward to seeing you soon,” Ben said softly, hardly waiting for your quiet, “you too” before walking back to the living room.

You reached your hand up to the spot on your cheek he had kissed and walked out the door. That warm feeling didn’t go away all night.

💖💖💖

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