#it gets easier to laugh at jokes and not feel guilty about it

[yourluckieday]

So 3 years ago today my little brother killed himself. And it just hit me that at some point he will be out of my life longer than he was in my life. And that shit sucks. It gets easier, but it’s so so fucking hard sometimes. I have a voice recording of him so I can hear him whenever I want. It still sucks and I haven’t said his name in 3 years. Not out loud anyways. Sorry for the trauma dumping.

[kayesfanfics]

Hi can I request a femreader/ nightcrawler story where the reader is shy and anxious, while Kurt misunderstands this as her thinking he’s a monster?

But in truth she’s been trying to confess her feelings to him but she always backs out last minute in fear?

Thank you!

A/N: The way I’ve probably imagined this scenario at 12 years old laying in bed at night. I also made the reader friends with Rogue, Jean and Ororo since she’s closer to their ages

“Sugah, yer lookin’ more nervous than a long-tailed pussy cat in a room full o’ rockin’ chairs!” Rogue tapped your shoulder as she walked into the lounging area, where you were having morning coffee with Jean and Ororo. “What’s gotcha all riled up, huh?”

“Kurt’s playing basketball with the others outside...in shorts.” Jean quipped before taking a sip of coffee, a playful grin on her face. Ororo chuckled at the embarrassed face you made, as if someone just walked in on you changing.

“Jean!” You whined, face turning redder when Rogue started laughing.

“Oh, Y/N! We’re just teasing!” Jean giggled as you pouted at all of them finding your embarrassment amusing.

“I just don’t see why you haven’t told him about her feelings yet!”

They all knew you’ve had the biggest crush on the fuzzy blue X-Man, Nightcrawler, ever since he joined the team a few months ago. He was always so nice to everyone, including you, and he seemed to always say the right thing at the right time. He even made your morning coffee sometimes when you got up late, knowing everyone’s coffee order by heart by now.

The boys were outside playing basketball with Jubilee and Roberto, showing the younger ones how it was done. You watched out the window at the court, seeing Gambit and Wolverine battling for the ball before Kurt teleported between them and snatched the ball from them, tossing it into the basket and laughing when they both started yelling about the “no powers” rule. You smiled before realizing you were staring, clearing your throat and turning to Rogue.

“You know I get too nervous around your brother, I can’t even ask him to pass the salt at dinner!”

“Yer always nervous, that’s fine! But y’know, he totally likes you too. I can tell.”

“No he doesn’t.” You shook your head in denial.

“Yes he does.” All three women said at the same time, side eyeing you or rolling their eyes.

“My dear, Kurt is a very charismatic man, but he goes out of his way to make you smile every chance he gets.” Ororo set her hand atop of yours. “I even see a flash of disappointment when you flee from his advances.”

“Really?” You asked, feeling a bit guilty about making him feel bad. You were a generally nervous person, but your anxiety sky rocketed around him, your heart always felt like it would explode out of your chest when he got close to you or touched you. It was difficult to hold eye contact with him, your nerves getting the best of you and looking down at the floor while you spoke to him. You’d give him a scared smile when he handed you things, your blood running cold when his hand brushed up against yours during those exchanges. You often found your eyes wandering to him when he wasn’t focused on you, it was easier to look at him when you knew he wasn’t aware of you checking him out. You loved the way his tail squashed playfully as he joked around with Morph, how his ear would twitch like a cats when he heard someone new enter the room, how his fangs gleamed when he smiled or how his bright yellow eyes sparked with mischief during a fight.

“Okay…you know what? Todays the day, today I need to confess to him! If I don’t today, I never will cause I’m a baby and will back out.” You stood up confidently.

“Yeah! Go get em, tiger!” Rogue cheered as you walked away, then lowered her voice. “She ain’t gonna.”

“I think Y/N can do things she sets her mind to.” Storm defended you.

“Wanna put ten bucks on it?” Rogue raised an eyebrow and cheekily grinned.

“…you’re on.” Storm nodded, shaking her hand as Jean spoke up, saying she’d bet alongside Storm that you could do it.

“You know I can still hear you all?” You crossed your arms from the window, getting a closer look and watching Kurt dodge Roberto’s lunge. Your friends all laughed as you shook your head, trying to get ahold of your nerves.

How were you supposed to tell the most handsome, heroic, sweetest, most amazing person ever you were in love with them? Kurt was genuinely the kindest person you’d ever met, giving you butterflies when you watched him comfort a mutant child during a fight, or how he helped his teammates so gently when they were injured. You couldn’t fathom how people were afraid or disgusted by him, he was the most gorgeous man in the world. How you could see a tinge of indigo under his blue fur when he blushed or bruised, how sculpted and chiseled he was yet also was so soft to look at. When he wore sweatpants and a tank top after training one day, you swore you would have a heart attack right then and there seeing how attractive he looked in the outfit. You adored sneaking peeks of him working out alone, his muscles bulging when he did push ups or pull ups on a bar, how flexible and agile he was and how effortless he made it look. You’d stand outside the door until you felt you would get caught staring, not wanting to seem like a creep.

You were suddenly pulled out of your thoughts when the door opened, Wolverine carrying Jubilee, pretending to be limp and passed out in his arms.

“What happened?” Jean asked as the girls all stood up from their little coffee and gossip session.

“She tripped and scraped her knee trying to get the ball from Logan!” Morph snickered as they all filed inside.

“I’ve been attacked! He pushed me and now I’m severely wounded!” Jubilee whined dramatically as Logan set her down on the counter. You waited for Kurt while you listened to Jubilee and Wolverine bicker about the seriousness of her cut knee, feeling your heart skip a beat when he finally walked in, chatting with Hank.

“Um…hey, Kurt?” You spoke quietly, but Kurt’s ear twitched and picked up your shy voice.

“Yes, Miss Y/N?” He asked, stopping and letting Hank go ahead of him.

“I…um…could you find a first aid kit, please?”

You blushed when you heard your friends laugh behind you and Storm and Jean handed Rogue money, knowing Kurt was looking past you at them, wondering what they were doing. You felt like a dork backing out of confessing and asking him to do something you could easily do, but you changed your mind at the last second that you weren’t ready yet.

“Sure.” He smiled, before bamfing off. You turned and glared at your friends, before walking walked over to Jubilee, seeing blood dripping down her shin and gravel from the court embedded inside of it.

“Ouch, let me clean that for you.” You said and wet a paper towel, ignoring Logan saying how she was fine and it was part of growing up and being a kid. You kneeled down and patted down Jubilee’s injury, soaking up the blood and wiping out any gravel from the wound.

“Here you are, Y/N.” You heard a familiar sweet, velvety voice beside you. You looked over and saw Nightcrawler holding out a first aid kit from the nearest bathroom, a charming grin on his face.

“Oh, um, thank you Kurt.” You smiled at him shyly, before quickly turning your attention to Jubilee. You didn’t see the look of rejection in his yellow eyes as the irritated twitch of his tail at that, before he sighed and bamfed off again.

*a couple hours later*

“Mein Gott!” The mutant shouted in surprise, also not paying attention to where he was going before tumbling backwards at the collision. You were on your way to training, focusing on wrapping up your hands to look where you were going. Now, you knocked down the last person you wanted to. You felt bad seeing the gorgeous man on the floor because of you.

“Kurt! I’m so sorry! Here, let me help!” You held a hand out to him, but he got up himself.

“It is fine.” He said simply before walking past you, then suddenly pausing and turning to you. “May I ask you something?”

“Sure.” You fidgeted with your hands nervously, anxious for the question.

“Do you…have I offended you in some way?” He asked, his eyes flashing with a bit of sadness.

“What? No? Why would you think that?” You asked, worried your timid behavior had finally kicked you in the ass.

“You tend to just brush me off, I’ve noticed. Lately you don’t really look at me, you respond with few words to me. I just thought…maybe I did something to scare you? Disgust you? Perhaps I…you think I’m a monster?”

You stared at him in the hallway, shock freezing your thoughts for a moment. How could he ever think your awkwardness around him could be because you thought he was disgusting? That he thought you found him frightening? You hadn’t realized how not making eye contact or responding curtly would come across to him, a man who’s been persecuted and attacked his whole life for how he looked. He was the most admirable, amazing person you’d ever met and you made him feel like a monster.

“Kurt, no! Not at all! I just…I do like you, I do! You just…make me very nervous. More so than I usually am…”

“How? Do I intimidate you?” He tilted his head in confusion. “I do not mean to-“

“It’s not that, really. I uh…I just really admire you, I guess. You make me more nervous than the others because…because I really like you…a lot.” You looked down at the floor, shyly looking up into his eyes. His face relaxed when he finally understood what you meant.

“Oh…I apologize for thinking so little of your actions. You are understanding and non judge mental, I should never have assumed what I did about you. How about I take you out to apologize for my ignorance?” He flashed his fangs at you in a charming smile, slowly approaching you before he was close enough to hold out a hand to you.

“I-I…okay.” You took his hand and sheepishly smiled up at him, allowing him to guide you down the hall. “I’m really sorry I made you feel like I-“

“No apology necessary, Y/N, really. I’m just glad we’ve come to…an understanding.” He grinned, bringing your hand up to his lips to place a soft kiss on your knuckles. You blushed and giggled at the action

[shirefantasies]

How Thorin’s Company Acts Around Their Crush

Hope all who celebrate had a wonderful Christmas! Since I’ve gotten some requests for The Hobbit characters as well I thought I would start with my usual beginning! Yes I’m repping ALL of them 😤😂 you can imagine the older members’ as taking place when they were younger or not…depends how you like it 🤷🏻‍♀️😂

Balin

✧ As his feelings for you grow, so too does his care for you. As if by magic he always seems to know where you are and what you need. Being more subtle and witty with his feelings, Balin is not the easiest to decipher in terms of intention but you can be damn sure you know he cares.

✧ Shares stories with you, tales of his ancestors or days as a young dwarf roaming the mountain halls, chuckling warmly at your reactions.

✧ There to catch you whenever you fall, hands gently gripping your waist as he asks if you’re all right.

✧ Tells you how much the others like you, especially if those around you are a bit tough about it. Balin hears and sees a lot more in his position so he is quick to reassure you.

✧ “Let me get one last look at you before I go- that’s all the energy I need.”

✧ Balin loves to hear your voice, so his guilty pleasure is asking you to read to him whenever you get a moment’s peace- please indulge him, he’ll be so relaxed and content!

Dwalin

✧ Acts like he's just going along with your ideas or whims, but in reality you're wrapped around his finger and he'll do anything for you, not to mention go anywhere so he can ensure you're protected. The way he always makes jokes for you and shows off in your presence may make it easier to tell how he feels!

✧ Offers you a drink at any opportunity, bringing you a mug or glass of whatever you prefer most, even if it’s just water.

✧ Playfully spars with you if you’re game, complimenting your form and encouraging you to try more daring moves.

✧ Does anything in his power to make you comfortable and stand up for you. The log you’re sitting on is uncomfortable? He stands right up then and there to carve it down. If he sees an orc get a strike in on you you’ll know who’d getting beheaded next.

✧ Laughs at jokes he wouldn’t normally, like if the others tease him Dwalin will probably smack them or snark back, but if you say it he’ll just laugh and roll his eyes, maybe lightly elbow you.

✧ I’m pretty sure it’s both book and movie canon that this man dwarf plays the violin??? So you know he is going to whip it out to impress you! And maybe it’ll make for an excuse to dance and sing together too!

Thorin

✧ Thorin is the sort to orchestrate his entire romance to a T, so you will not be able to decipher his intentions until the exact moment he plans to tell you, and that will take some time getting to know and trust you.

✧ Always moves you behind him when danger strikes, readying himself in a moment to stand in and defend you. If you've been separated, you're the first person he seeks to check on.

✧ “Give me your hand.” Anytime the terrain is rough or you could fall, Thorin takes your hand in his to gently but firmly guide you over/across it.

✧ It’s hard sometimes to defer to others especially with all the pressure of being king, but Thorin is intentionally very considerate with you, asking for your input and following your counsel.

✧ Drapes his coat over your shoulders if he sees you looking cold, his hands lingering a bit longer than necessary…

✧ Rather than tell his story, Thorin prefers to ask yours- he wants to know where you came from and why you care about the things you do. If nothing else he craves a feeling of understanding passing between you two, a deeper relation and connection. He’s not afraid to ask deep questions like if what legacy would you most like to leave behind or the most important character trait in your eyes because his partner needs to share his values and be comfortable with deep discussions.

Oin

✧ His biggest tell is the way he dials up the gentleman act for you and only you, behaving so much more politely and attentively.

✧ Sometimes people don’t take the time to have conversations with him due to his hearing difficulties, so he makes sure to be extremely attentive and show his appreciation whenever you talk to him. Expressive listening and reactions are his specialty!

✧ Having skills as a healer, Oin does anything in his area of expertise to ease your travels, whether it’s pain relief, soothing oils for your muscles, steam treatments for your breathing, etc.

✧ He knows a lot of games, too, so if you’d like Oin would love to sit down and teach you some. If you ever look bored or down he will approach you with cards or dice in hand asking if you’d like to while away some time or thoughts.

✧ In turn, any hobby you have is something he’d be eager to learn about. You like to see? Show him how! You paint? Well, what do you make your paints out of? He wants to find a way to support your joys.

✧ Does silly things behind the others’ backs when only you can see, making fun of them or just shaking his head no if they give bad advice. Acts completely innocent even if they catch you laughing.

Gloin

✧ The ability to speak one's intent and feelings clearly, perhaps even with a bit of poetry, definitely runs in his family 😌 He will pay you the best compliments you've ever heard, leaving you to wonder what wheels are turning in his mind as he speaks them.

✧ Unafraid of telling you how nice your outfit looks on you whether it’s the color or the fit or, as is most likely, both! Tells you, in fact, that you’re more beautiful than any gem he’s ever seen.

✧ Teaches you how to play all his favorite tavern games! Subsequently always asks for you to be his partner at them.

✧ “Oh, you’ve got a little…” Extending a hand, he gently removes a small leaf from your hair, gently brushing it back into place.

✧ Won’t give the others the time of day if you’re talking to him. “Can’t you see I’m talking to them and not you?”

✧ Becomes your designated lifter of heavy objects and opener of difficult things, flexing as he tells you that pretty much everyone comes to him for it (even if it isn’t true) 😌

Bifur

✧ Absolutely becomes a showoff whenever he sees you, especially when he's sparring. You're like an energy of your own, bringing him new vigor and passion to overtake his enemy before he flashes you a smile. It's fairly obvious what he's doing, but you can't deny its effectiveness.

✧ Gets you familiar with his signs so he can spill the tea about the others when they aren’t looking 👀

✧ Elbows you lightly to get your attention, then waves at you or wiggles his eyebrows teasingly when you peer at him.

✧ Strings together some beads he has on hand along with some pretty rocks that he found to make you a little necklace or bracelet! Looks so proud as he holds it up for you too 🥺

✧ Gives it his all in every fight where you’re in harm’s way too because it’s not just about him making it out anymore.

✧ Sharpens your weapons for you without you even having to ask 😌

Bofur

✧ Bofur is incredibly sweet around the one who draws his attention, always smiling when you look his way and address him and always laughing at your jokes. His actions could be seen as just friendly but he's incredibly generous and giving around you which is a bit of a tell.

✧ Starts breaking touch barriers! Just with little things like resting a hand on your shoulder as he teases you or expresses sympathy, offering a helping hand to stand back up, or taking your hand or wrist to look at your jewelry.

✧ Yours is the first hand he reaches for when Bofur starts up a song and dance. He holds you so gently but twirls you so eagerly, a smile on his face for you the whole time!

✧ Hype man. Believes in you like it’s a given- of course you look amazing, go on, you can do it, don’t be scared, they’ll love it. In his words, “Don’t dull that great shine you’ve got.”

✧ Sharing little running jokes is his favorite. Whether you two were the only ones to catch another company member say something ridiculous or Bofur was the one you shared a certain story or fact with, he loves those little points of connection and will never let them die.

✧ Loves to take care of you, so when you’re seated together at meals he’ll load your plate and pour your drink for you- you won’t have to do a single thing but enjoy your time!

Bombur

✧ Such a quiet sweetheart! You may not be able to tell he likes you because he's so subtle with his little gifts and waves sent your way, but he's always asking about you and trying to show he cares.

✧ Lets you sneak tastes of whatever he’s making even though he’d usually smack their hand away 🥰 Also he always serves you first at the end of the day and gives you the best bit of whatever he's made! And if you're a lady, he always says “ladies first” with the sweetest smile ☺️

✧ The absolute best if you get anxiety, like he will learn exactly what is best to do for you whether it’s breathing, words, serving as a living weighted blanket for you, a phrase or sensory experience, you name it! He just wants to see you smile again 🥺

✧ Quietly leaves you flowers by your bedroll when you aren’t around, just little surprises to bring a smile to your face at day’s end.

✧ Bombur has the most hilarious theories about how he thinks he can predict the weather, so rather than have you ask Gandalf he’ll explain them all in depth until you’ve got stitches in your sides from laughing.

✧ If you break touch barriers, expect the most shocked, happy :o face from him followed by a smile that slowly grows more and more lovestruck.

Dori

✧ Another case of 'could be interpreted as friendly', Dori practically fawns over you to make sure you're comfortable and have everything you need, but because he's a big brother it can come across like his natural sibling instinct.

✧ Anyone who bothers you gets the biggest scolding of their life- watch out!

✧ Making tea is his love/connection language. He'll offer to make you a cuppa if you're cold, stressed, need some energy, you name it and he'll do it for you!

✧ Practically shushes everyone to get your opinion when a ruckus emerges over some company decision or another, making some creative excuse why you have sway over it.

✧ Dori is definitely the sort to always check in and make sure you ate and got a drink too, always getting certain you’re keeping up your strength and care for yourself.

✧ Invites you to take walks with him when he wants fresh air and time away from his brothers, just the two of you enjoying nature and some one-on-one chatting and laughter.

Nori

✧ Shameless flirt! You'll know by the way his eyes travel up and down, by the way he smiles and approaches you, by his complete and utter lack of fear in complimenting and teasing you.

✧ Probably hits you with a pickup line as one of your first interactions, seeing you and immediately stepping in with the 'what's someone like you doing in a place like this'.

✧ Naturally he always volunteers to pair up with you on watches or lookout duty…just to make sure you’re safe, you know!

✧ Tells maybe, just possibly, exaggerated stories of his feats of heroism…or just gambling, whichever.

✧ One hundred percent the one who tries the old ‘yawn and put your arm around them’ trick one night by the fire or on watch.

✧ If his exploration leads him somewhere interesting you’re the first one he’ll be pulling over to check it out with him, pride written all over his face at your amazed reaction!

Ori

✧ He's so shy and polite around you that you can't help but wonder if his flustered state and smiles are connected to you. He also gets clumsier, suddenly walking into things and dropping them. What can be said, you just have an effect on him 😉

✧ Always points out animals he sees on your travels because he knows you like looking at them. Will sketch you pictures of your favorites so you can carry them with you!

✧ “Ooh, ooh! Sit with me!” *proceeds to not know what to say or do with himself once you get there*

✧ Knits for you, whether you request a scarf or gloves or a hat Ori will make it for you. “Here. This’ll keep you nice and warm,” he tells you as he passes it over, smiling sweetly as your hands brush.

✧ Tries to replicate anyone else’s feats. Fili threw a knife and hit a bullseye? Well watch this. Bifur balanced three bowls on his head? Care to see Ori do four? And if he doesn’t, please don’t laugh too much!

✧ Asks your favorite everything, like what flower you like the best, what meal you enjoy most, what’s your favorite color. Your favorite flower will forever make Ori think of you, and in fact it becomes his muse. He dedicated two whole pages to pressing and sketching them, one for him to keep and one for you!

Fili

✧ Epitome of 'if he teases you, he likes you'. Always shooting you jokes and smoothly grabbing your attention to show you things. Fili just gets a twinkle in his eye around you and his behavior clues you in.

✧ Teaches you the best way to throw knives, standing behind you to help you get the best angle 😏 asks if you’d like to give a name to the one you do the best with!

✧ Such a great listener. Goes full-on chin in hand just watching your animation intently, nodding and smiling as you speak.

✧ Struggle with something in Fili’s sight and you’ll never lift a finger at it again. He swoops right in to help you, always reassuring you it’s no big deal at all.

✧ Opens his arms immediately if you’re stressed or grieving, offering a warm, comforting embrace. He gives amazing hugs, too, a hand sliding soothingly up and down your back as he pulls you in.

✧ Trips and falls in front of you, but saves it by saying he lost his footing because you were so stunning 💁🏻‍♀️

Kili

✧ If he teases you he likes you part two. He also shamelessly flirts by winking at you and doing anything in his power to hear you laugh, so you'll be able to see what's up pretty quickly.

✧ He has a habit of taking things to see if you notice, just small things like if you leave your comb sitting out or lay down your weapon to go talk to someone, he'll snatch it up and hold onto it to see how long it takes! "Just keeping it warm for you ;)"

✧ Takes it upon himself to teach you archery or help you practice, making lots of corrections to your stance, especially with guiding hands on your hips 👀

✧ One night Kili has a coin perched on his hand. “Heads or tails?” You call your guess, and as luck you call it correctly. “Well, that means you get to sit with me tonight,” Kili replies with a wink.

✧ If you don’t mind it, he’ll probably end up giving you some sort of nickname, whether it’s based on some sort of inside joke or just something you like or remind him of.

✧ Conversations he’s involved in quickly involve you, too, as Kili can find a reason to think of you amidst even the most mundane topics.

Bilbo

✧ He isn't flustered around you, but he behaves with a certain awkward consternation that you wonder at. If you have a tougher time reading others like me, you might think he's just plain studying you, confused even, but in truth he is hyperfocusing on every little part of your interactions!

✧ The type to always stick by you, making sure he's the one seated next to you at mealtimes and placed next to you at the campfire.

✧ “Perhaps we ought to hold hands? Just to keep together. After all, it’s quite crowded out here.”

✧ Being introverted as he is, a big sign of Bilbo’s care for you is the way he approaches your time together- even at the end of the day he will still come to you, making it clear time together with you recharges. It equates to ‘me time’, which is big for him.

✧ Asks a lot of questions about your home, the cultures you come from and languages you speak. Bookish as he is, Bilbo will undertake learning your other language(s) and trying to bring pieces of your home right to you!

✧ “So, have you ever… you know, thought about settling down someday? After all this is over.”

[tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang]

I have a small[?] request!

I would love to see the reactions of Toman about foreigner!reader who can speak fluent japanese but when one of the toman boys trys to talk to reader they say "can't speak Japanese" in a horrible accent and walk away but then someone they know comes along and they start to speak Japanese like they didn't just say they couldn't 😭😭

reader is just really shy lol and dosent know how to talk to people like hakki lol

Lmao poor guys but ngl the reader is a mood, this is how i think toman would react!

Mikey- He is dumbfounded by this, did you actually just lie and ignore him???? Thinks you seem pretty interesting since you just did that to toman's leader (typically Mikey's the one doing the ignoring). Basically follows you around after that, pestering you and trying to get you to speak Japanese to him. He treats it like a game and thanks you for playing with him after.

Draken- He's a bit miffed when he realises you were faking not understanding him. Contemplates going over to you and questioning you about it (might do that depending how rude you were) but ultimately he figures he might have intimidated you so leaves it be. If he's interested in you romantically, he'll try to buy you a drink or snack to show you he's actually not going to hurt you and you don't need to be scared of him.

Takemichi- Yells out "HUH!?????" so that everyone turns to look at him. He just can't believe you would do that! Walks away after but mutters about it the whole day.

Baji- Laughs, he's amused but you're definitely not getting away with this. Tells you he's going to show you around but he's actually just messing with you. The whole day he uses a bad version of google translate to speak your language terribly, purposely trying to be bad to see how long you go along with this instead of just switching to Japanese. Actually ends up having fun with you though.

Chifuyu- He's a bit hurt by this, assuming you don't like him or that he looks bad or something. Probably looks in a window shop and tries to re arrange his hair a bit before approaching you again with a big grin. He's determined to show he's not a bad guy.

Mitsuya- Softly chuckles at your little act, he actually guesses correctly that you're a bit shy or overwhelmed. Gets your phone number from your friend so he can text you instead, thinking that might be easier.

Hakkai- Blinks a bunch, he has no idea how to react to this situation. Decides to back down though since you don't seem to like him much (he finally knows what it feels like). Gives you a wave before leaving.

Pah- For a split second he thought he was fluent in your language and you were still speaking it. But quickly realises the truth, storms over to you to question you on why you just did that. (He softens up a lot once he finds out the reason though).

Peh- Loudly asks what's going on, bringing a lot of attention to both you and him. When he sees the worried expression on your face, he assumes it's because you're scared of him. So in attempt to not make you cry (he hates when that happens and Mitsuya will frown at him) he tries to tell you a joke (it's not very funny).

Smiley- Walks straight back over to you and demands to know why you lied (probably threatens you a little too). He thinks this might lead to a fight which excites him but he's also embarrassed and generally curious. Nods when you explain to him then actually feels somewhat guilty.

Angry- Frowns harder, he takes a moment to watch you and try to figure out why you lied. Figures that you must be nervous around him, so he tries to do something nice like give you advice on nice places to sightsee.

Mucho- Raises an eyebrow at you but says nothing. He's intrigued but used to people wary of him because of his size and intimidating aura.

Sanzu- He's disappointed, it's not often that he's interested enough in people to try and talk to them so this disappoints him a bit. Watches you closely and tries to think of another reason to approach you/ talk to you.

[bountycancelled]

LOST CAUSE

bada x reader (part 1)

MASTERLIST | NEXT

warnings: none really, it's just kinda sad

content: petnames (only one is used in reference to reader, but a few are mentioned) alcohol mentions (reader drinks away her feels) sad gays and bad gays, unedited becusse I'm lazy, a whole lotta projecting myself onto reader

being bada's best friend would be the death of you, you were calling it right now.

she wasn't a bad friend by any means, quite the opposite actually. from the late night talks that would last until the early mornings before you both passed out, the tiny, sentimental gifts she would randomly get for you without expecting anything in return, to the way she would hold you, god, she was perfect. you loved everything about her.

but, that was the problem, wasn't it? you loved her. and a part of you wants to blame her for making it so easy, falling for her, but you know that would be unfair. not only because she wasn't leading you on or anything, but also because she couldn't do any wrong in your eyes.

everytime your heart fluttered at one of her actions, it would sink just as quickly. she's doing this as a friend, you would always remind yourself. but your not so friendly reminders didn't stop you from hoping. for something more, that one day, miracously, bada would realise that she was in lo–

"what's got you so worried?" you were pulled out of your daily dose of dramatic reality checking by none other than bada. her head was in your lap, she stared up at you with a look that you could only describe as... content. comfortable. and so, so beautiful.

"huh?" you answered, having not heard her clearly, too busy being in your head instead of in the real world, where unfortunately, you belonged.

she raised her arm and pressed on the space between your eyebrows, a small pout on her face. "you're frowning. what's wrong, pretty?"

the nicknames. the fucking. nicknames.

pretty, gorgeous, baby, love, honey. it was things like that made you believe, even if just for a moment, that she knew that you liked her, loved her, and was just toying with you for enjoyment.

you'd feel guilty everytime you had that thought. she wouldn't. not to you, not to anyone, not ever.

"it's nothing, really. I'm just in a mood today." you shrugged, hoping that she would, for your sake, take your half-hearted explanation and leave it there.

she nodded, clearly unconvinced, but moved one nonetheless. "do you still wanna go to the club tonight? we can cancel and spend the night together instead." she offered, lifting her head off of your lap in favour of placing it on your shoulder, waiting for your answer.

"no, we can still go, we'll just come back here together. we've blown off our friends enough times, I'm starting to feel bad." you joked, and once again, the atmosphere was light and airy. with that settled, you both stood up, trying to find something to wear for the nights activities.

you walked into her closet, sprinkled with tops and skirts from your own, almost laughing at the absurdity of the situation. for someone who claimed that being around bada was painful, your personal stamp on her home sure made it hard to believe.

"how's this?" you said for what felt like the 29th time to bada (it was only the third) as you spun around for her, showing off one of your options for the night.

she sat at the edge of the bed, ready to go about 20 minutes before you, as she usually was. her head was tilted back, staring at the ceiling as she waited patiently for you to finally choose something to wear.

you tried not to stare at her neck, which she made easier for you by finally looking at you, tilting her head to the side as she inspected your outfit.

"I was gonna say its looks as good as the other two because you look amazing in anything and everything, but... I like this one. a lot."

the way she looked at you when she said that, with her bottom lip between her teeth, stayed with you as you walked to the club together, hand in hand. did she really have no idea how much she affected you? you weren't sure if you hoped that she didn't, or did.

but you weren't going to think of that tonight. you were going to drink, and dance, and hang out with your friends, and not let bada affect you. if only for just one night.

okay, maybe you had had one too many drinks by now, but you weren't drunk just yet. it was still the normal you, just with a few tweaks. a little less shame here, a little more confidence here, nothing too major.

you were half in minah's lap and half in tatters, singing obnoxiously, almost as loud as the song blasting from the speakers. you weren't even thinking of bada... wait, where the hell was bada?

you squinted your eyes as they darted across the dance floor, hopelessly trying to locate her in the dim lighting of the club. but you didn't have to look for long, because she was headed back to your table, a smile painted on her face.

you stood up, suprisingly not stumbling as you walked up to her, wrapping your arms around her shoulders. "where were you?" you shouted over the music, wearing a curious expression.

she bit her lip excitedly before speaking into your ear, sending involuntary shivers down your spine. damn you and your natural charm, bada.

"I met a girl." you didn't mean for your face to drop in the way that it did, but from the looks of it, bada didn't even notice. if she did, then she didn't mention it.

"she actually wants to come over to my place..." bada trailed off, sending you a pleading look, a certain lust-driven glee shining in her eyes.

"oh." you said flatly before you could stop yourself, moving your arms away from her and crossing them over your chest.

she quickly wrapped her arms around your middle, squeezing while pleading her case in an effort to soften the blow. it doesn't help, not one bit.

"I know we were supposed to have a binging marathon, but please baby? just this once? I'll make it up to you real good, you know I always do." 'because I always let you.' you wanted to add, but you bit your tongue, you weren't feining for a fight with bada right about now.

you sigh, your arms hanging limply by your sides. "okay. I'll just crash at lushers'." you fight the urge to gag as she squeals in excitement, at the prospect of spending the night with someone who isn't you.

she gave you a curious look, most likely sensing your jealousy apprehension, her arms still around you, feeling more suffocating than comforting at that moment.

"...are you sure?" no. I'm not, don't go with her.

you nodded furiously, removing her arms from your frame, and turning her around, pushing her toward the dance floor where she had left her pursuit for the night. "go, she'll think you're blowing her off if you keep talking to me."

"are you actually, super, one hundred percent certain that I can go with her?" she pushed you further, and you knew that she knew that you weren't really all that okay with it.

but what was the point? you could easily sway her into sticking to the original plan, but she would've spent the whole night daydreaming about what could've been with the mysterious girl at the club. you didn't want to deal with that. you were tired of feeling like a second choice.

you wanted her to choose you, because she wanted to choose you. not because you asked her to.

'no, I'm not sure. I don't want you to go with her. I want you to choose me for once. choose me.' you screamed in your own mind, but all that could be seen on the outside was you smiling the best you could at bada, nodding once more before walking back to where the rest of your group sat, downing the drink in front of you.

you didn't know if it was even yours, but it didn't matter to you right now.

minah noticed your sudden change in mood, holding your hand in hers in a silent attempt to comfort you. you squeezed it as means of expressing gratitude, you didn't wanna talk about it.

but, you didn't need to. she knew, and if the downright pitiful looks the rest of the group were throwing your way were anything to go by, it seemed that everyone else knew too.

you wanted to leave, so you left. lusher had no problem going home early with you, she could tell that you weren't in a good headspace. you left with lushers arms around you, half to make sure that you didn't stumble, and half to try to make you feel a little better.

you left with a bitter taste in your mouth, and not from the shitty drinks you were downing.

you left without saying goodbye to bada, which you never did. she waved when she saw you by the door, that big smile still evident even in the dark lighting.

you didn't wave back.

a/n: this wasn't planned, and I wrote it in a day, but I hope you guys like it. also, doing a bada series and and a bada smau at the same time isn't my brightest idea, but fuck it, we ball.

[rainecreatesstuff]

I’m just thinking so much abt. qTubbo crouched outside the movie theatre, listening to his best friends on a date together. And they’re laughing, and chatting, and enjoying themselves. And they’re his best friends. His family, even if he won’t call them that. He loves them so fucking much. And he doesn’t want to hurt them.

But at the same time it hurts him so bad. It’s just more proof, to him. They don’t need him there. Things are just as good for them, better even, when he’s not there.

And the only way Tubbo knows how to be loved is to be needed.

Tubbo was on the fence about the photoshopped pics right up until the moment Fit and Pac left the theatre. And even then he felt horrible. He got absolutely no joy from any of it. Adrenaline, maybe. It’s easy to mistake one for the other. But not joy. It hurt him to try to ruin his friends’ happiness. But to him, if he didn’t try, he was just… letting his friends stop needing him. Waiting like lame prey to be left behind by his herd and eaten by the pack of predators that host hurt and loneliness.

He sat and stared at Pac’s enderpearl for like five minutes. Genuinely I thought my stream froze but no. He just sat on top of the stasis chamber and deliberated for five minutes straight. He says it so often throughout the stream you’d think it became his catchphrase, he feels so guilty about everything. And in the end, he has to leave it up to chance. Can’t even drop the trapdoor himself, tricks Bagi into doing it instead.

And then after the chaos, after the screaming and yelling, after his friends notice his eyes looking dull and the stress on his face, he just… gives up. Says yeah. You guys should finish your date. Makes a joke. People like jokes. People get distracted by jokes. Bagi should go figure out how many more people she’s related to.

and he leaves.

And. It’s. That hurts too. And he knows what this looks like, knows that the brush they paint his story with will be one that leaves strokes of jealousy on the canvas. Knows Fit thinks he’s acting out of petulance. Knows they both are upset that he’s tried to ruin a good thing for them. Knows that this is just another addition on the long list of reasons why he’s not to be trusted, not to be listened to, not to be loved. But he loves his friends.

And the only way Tubbo knows how to be loved is to be needed.

And if they didn’t need him before they definitely don’t now.

Easier to jump off the bridge than be pushed.

Right?

[superstarz9]

So y’all fw EVEN MORE Mr. Puzzles hcs?

Cause I got some :}

tbh I feel like Puzzles get’s too babied in the fandom. A lot of people forget that he’s kind of an asshole, and takes a long time to warm up to people. However, once he realizes how he feels and is willing to reach out more, things get a lot better.

It’d probably be really awkward more than anything else. He wouldn’t understand relationship stuff and you’d have to explain things to him, which would kill the tension for a bit. However, he makes a huge effort trying to be a good partner.

Puzzles wants a relationship (platonic or romantic) but doesn’t want to be fixed/helped. He likes the attention and having a permanent audience.

If anyone here knows Guilty Gear, you guys would probably be like A.B.A and Paracelsus, where the two of you would get into a relationship out of needing something from the other rather than for genuine interests (Him wanting someone to control and you wanting to fix him (or make him worse)) (Yes, this is a callout post for all of us, me included). It would take a while for the both of you to finally realize that your goals are what is harming the relationship from going further, and it takes a while to overcome that boundary. But once you guys do, it’s much easier to work together.

If your relationship is in the real world, he’d probably get annoyed with you more often than not during the beginning. Nothing that would make him lose it, but enough that he’d need to take a moment to readjust. Picture him dealing with Mario’s antics in the gameshow episode without going crazy, as well as him talking to Boopkins during the Price is Right Segment.

Bottom.

He’ll let you kiss his screen but the moment you aren’t looking he’s wiping that shit off. Not because he doesn’t like it, in fact he loves how much you wanna kiss him and give him attention, but it’s a ocd/texture thing; he can’t handle feeling dirty in any way.

When he blushes, it’s like screen-burn (when a static/unmoving image burns into the screen for long periods of time). If he’s blushed in the past 30 mins, you can still slightly see it up close.

His love languages is gift giving and acts of service. He also loves literally everything except gift because you’d be the greatest gift (plus he’s personally not a material-wealth kinda guy. Leave the gift-giving to him).

Doesn’t have a type/isn’t picky. Anyone who’s willing to give him attention, he’ll love.

He hasn’t genuinely laughed at something in years. He’s seen all the comedy shows and knows all the tropes so much that nothing gets to him anymore. You might make him chuckle or smirk but his goal is to make you smile and laugh. If you do laugh at his jokes, it warms his heart a lot. However, he can tell if a laugh is forced/fake, and will call you out on it if he’s not in a good mood.

Whether you like it or not, you pretty much can’t leave him alone once the two of you are official. If he needs some kind of comfort, he’s latching onto you. If you’re far away, he’ll either make the journey to see you or will call you every ten minutes

Hates modern phones and can’t text for shit. The gloves DO NOT help at all. He’ll just call you if he wants to talk to you, but the two of you are usually together so there’s no need.

Literally just unhindged Fluttercord.

A Two-for-one deal: a partner and a white noise machine lol.

Tastes like battery acid. I will not elaborate further.

His memories are like recordings that he can display on his screen, but he rarely does. If he falls asleep and dreams about memories of you, he might display them like that one scene of Pearl sleeping in Steven Universe.

Loves coordinating and matching outfits, but he’ll literally wear the same thing so he likes it when you coordinate with him, really.

Fr tho he is totally a bottom, but he’s overall more of a switch. If he has control over the situation, he’ll make sure everything goes flawlessly. However, if you make him go off-script and cause him to fumble, you can easily take over.

Now these ones are specifically horror movie/show based from a request last post!

He’s okay with slasher movies, but hates the amount of unnecessary stuff like the swearing and sex. All cheep tactics to the the audience interested.

Hates phycological horror. Respects it, but hates it. Partially because he’s in minor denial of what he puts his actors through (he knows and accepts that’s he’s brainwashing people and controlling them, but he often justifies if for his sake).

Likes watching some horror movies because a lot of actors started with horror and got bigger because of it.

Truthfully, he’s a little traumatized from horror movies after staying up late one night to watch night television and adult shows as a kid. When a horror movie started playing, he forced himself to watch the whole thing and had nightmares about it months after. He overall tries to avoid horror.

If you guys are in a relationship and you wanna watch a horror movie, he’ll be hesitant. As you set it up, he’d also try to switch the movie and distract you, which fails. “Well, I mean, if you insist. Oh- but how about this other movie! It’s excellent, and the bonus features are so interesting!”

If you call him out for it, he’d apologies and admit he’s not a fan of horror. You could totally tease him, saying that “there’s no such thing as monster” and that you’re there to protect him if something goes bump in the night, and he’ll get offended and would watch the movie JUST to prove that he isn’t afraid.

He’d be shaking by the 30 min mark, over-dramatically reacting to everything. This could be for 1 of 2 things:

1. He’s genuinely terrified and the suspense is killing him. He’s curled up on the couch with his manic smile waiting for SOMETHING to happen, but nothing’s happening yet, so why’s THE MUSIC GETTING LOUDER?!?!?! You could scare him with a poke or a loud noise, which would cause him to basically skyrocket to the ceiling in fear, or you could gently take his hand and cuddle with him, which he’d immediately grab onto you and squeeze you the entire movie.

2. The acting is horrible and nothing makes sense. If the fear isn’t good enough to captivate him, he’s sprawled out on the couch and complaining the whole time. It’s almost funny how passionate he is about it, if not for the fact that you just wanna watch a movie. You could shush him, but he’ll just go back to talking in the next 5 minutes.

As for the theatre, you kinda can’t take him regardless of what’s playing, mainly because of his screen. He can’t dim it, and he’s already a beacon of light in dim rooms, so the theatre is a no go. He doesn’t mind, as he obviously prefer television. However, if you’re willing to drive and watch them, he’s fine with drive-in theatres. They remind him of his childhood, and it give him a reason to cuddle with you.

Only major downside of a drive-in is all the bugs sticking to his screen in the night, which he’d freak out about. He’d drench himself with so much bug repellent that he’d stink of chemicals.

Here’s a bunch of relationship hcs! Tried to make them mostly interchangeable between romantic and platonic relationships. I’ll continue to cook up more headcanons but I may or may not be working on a fic of my own, inspired by all the amazing writing I’ve been reading from the fandom. Til then, I’ll continue posting here! Questions/comments/suggestions are greatly appreciated. Thanks and have a great day!

[hobie-enthusiast]

FATES AND CANONS !

— hobie brown x gn!reader

— hobie brown and his six canon events

— angst, fluff, comfort, no happy ending (kinda?), petnames, major character death (twice, including reader), pretty long fic, might go against some comic canons, anarchist reader, cutesy kisses

— let’s play spot the tv girl reference 😜 anyway sorry for the delay ive been traveling, got sick, and now school starts next week, woohoo. so enjoy this for a little :)

The first canon event Hobie Brown experienced was being bitten by a radioactive spider.

But of course, that much is known. It’s the origin of every Spider-person in every dimension. That story has been over-told.

The real stories come from the preceding canon events, one that though every Spider-person goes through, it’s story-worthy each time.

—

The second canon event Hobie Brown experienced was the death of his best friend.

This friend was someone so dear to him, one he met at his lowest times on the streets. They picked each other up, helped each other out, and always had each other's backs. His best friend had big dreams just like him; stop the corrupt system of the Prime Minister and uplift the voices of the minorities. And his way of doing that was joining the police force, working on the inside to break it down and show others that the government is corrupt. Hobie had a friend on the inside, and together, they were able to stage protests and riots that were completely unbothered by the troops, thanks to his friend’s rank as captain.

Until he got infected with Norman Osborn's toxicity.

Hobie didn't realize it was him. He was bringing down those pigs left and right with his soundwaves, fighting for his side. He thought that there was no way he was in this. He was stronger than that.

But then he finished them all, and when the black goo disintegrated from the bodies, he saw that all-too-familiar person.

Hobie Brown had killed his best friend.

He was quick to run to his side, hands trembling. "Shit mate.. 't wasn't supposed t' be you."

"Hobie..?" His friend questioned, only then laughing quietly. "Hmm.. shoulda known my best mate t'was the coolest super in the world."

Quickly, Hobie moves his friend to a secluded alleyway, where he can take his mask off. There, his friend can see the way tears prick the corners of Hobie’s eyes. No one ever really sees him cry. This was a sight, a sad one at that.

"'m so sorry.." Hobie whispers.

His friend shakes his head. “Don’t be. Ya did good.”

Despite those words, Hobie couldn’t help but feel deeply guilty. He was just trying to do good? Why did this happen?

He was Spider-punk. Wasn’t he supposed to be able to save everyone?

“Ya gotta keep doin’ this.”

Hobie’s thoughts were interrupted as his friend grabbed his arm, gaining his attention. He was way worse looking than a couple seconds ago. Blood pooled around his stomach. Hands stained red from coughing it up. He wasn’t going to make it. Hobie knew that.

“Not killin’ your best friend, obviously.” He laughs at his own joke weakly. “But fightin’ for the people. They need ya, Hobie.”

Hobie nods in understanding. He promised him he would. It was always easier to make a dying person such bold promises. But Hobie could never give up on helping the people.

Even as his best friend takes his final breath, Hobie swore to protect the innocent. Even if he can’t save everyone, he’ll try his hardest.

Because that’s what he promised his best friend.

—

The third canon event Hobie Brown experienced was meeting the love of his life.

It was post concert; spirits were high and everyone was dying to meet the lead guitarist. Hobie’s onstage presence was something to marvel at, one that everyone adored.

You were no exception. You noticed the way Hobie was seemingly getting lost in the music. He was so passionate about his music, about what he performed. You admired that, truly. Not many musicians nowadays care about having a good onstage presence. Even with a band.

Lucky for you, your good friend was the bassist for the band. He was the one who invited you tonight, who wanted you to meet the band. He came out from backstage after the show and lead you to the dressing room.

“Alright mates, this is [Name].” Your friend points out each band member, stating their names before realizing something. “Aye, where’s ‘obie?”

His band didn’t seem to know, but you just shrugged it off. Though, you couldn’t deny the small sliver of disappointment that came with not meeting him. Soon, you excused yourself to grab some water, exiting the room.

What you didn’t expect was to run into someone.

“Crap, my bad. Didn’t see you there!” You immediately apologize, glancing up at the stranger.

Except it wasn’t a stranger. It was Hobie Brown. “‘s alright, swee’heart. No hard feelin’s.”

Hobie, after the show, decided to grab something to drink. He played a good show at the pub, so he rightfully thought he deserved it. But people were getting irritating, being touchy and pushy. He didn’t really appreciate that, and soon went backstage to find his bandmates.

When walking down the way, he said hello to a couple of the crew members. They were always considerate, doing their job correctly. Surely they deserve at least a wave and a verbal confirmation Hobie saw them.

Then, his spider-sense started tingling. Glancing around, he was quick to realize there was no true threat. But then he ran into you, and time seemingly stopped.

At the time, Hobie couldn’t describe the feeling of seeing you for the first time. It was like a part of him connected for the first time. You were a missing piece that he never knew he was even missing. But why did his senses go off for you?

“Actually, you’re Hobie, right?” You question, pointing up at him. “I’m a friend of the bassist in ‘ur band. It’s nice to meet you.”

Hobie muses. “Pleasure’s all mine, darlin’. C’mon, ‘ll take ya back t’ ‘em.”

The guitarist would be lying if he said he didn’t take you in the wrong direction for a little while. He wanted to get to know you more. And you weren’t complaining. Hobie was an incredibly charming guy.

The rest of the night was spent chatting with him. You couldn’t seem to leave him alone, and Hobie couldn’t keep his eyes off of you either. The two of you worked well together, and everyone in the band seemed to notice.

So Hobie slipped his number into your pocket, giving a kiss on your cheek. Bold, sure, but he had to make his move. Nobody has ever made him feel this way.

He can’t let you slip from his fingers.

—

The fourth canon event Hobie Brown experienced was giving up his mask.

Being Spider-punk was not everything Hobie cracked it out to be. He was constantly putting himself in danger, and you in the process. Everything was just so tiring. He couldn’t take it anymore.

He finally caught his breath after a confrontation, sliding down against the wall. He panted heavily, clutching tightly on his guitar. He barely made it out.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell..” He muttered, coughing and hacking.

Hobie Brown was tired of this. He stood up, taking off the parts of his suit that came undone. Searching for a nearby garbage, he found one. Then, Hobie simply shoved his suit into it messily.

Staring down at the bin, he slung his guitar on his back. Then he just.. walked from the alleyway, never taking a second glance back.

The walk back home to you was long, considering he didn’t swing there. But when he made it, he let himself into the door, placing his guitar on the table. His eyes caught you in his peripheral vision.

You glance from the counter, giving a smile. “Hey, Hobes! How was-” Your words fall short at the solemn expression he wore. “What happened?”

Your boyfriend stayed silent as he came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Nothin’.. ‘s all done..”

“Done? What do you mean?”

He sighs, face in your shoulder. Should he even-?

Of course he should.

“I gave it up. ‘m done bein’ Spider-man. A symbol.. or whateve’.”

You turn your body to face him, taking his hands to analyze him. You frown, eyes narrowing as he just stares down. When was the last time you saw Hobie so.. defeated?

Then, a sigh. “Hobes.. listen..”

You move your hands to cup his face, lifting him to face you directly. His tired eyes meet yours, and you give a smile.

“You can’t give it up. This is your favourite thing to do for the people.. Being their voice. But it’s okay to take breaks.” You start, gently stroking his cheek. “‘s not selfish.. you’re trying to be the best for them. To fight for them. But you can’t do that if you’re so tired, my love..”

Hobie chuckles quietly, leaning his head on your shoulder. “Always the wise one..” Is all he mutters.

You muse, rubbing his back gently. “Let me take care of you tonight. Please.”

“…mmkay...”

And you surely took care of him. You cooked for him. You cleaned up his wounds. You cuddled with him in bed. Anything to help Hobie feel better from such a long day. Even then.. from such a long and tiring career.

Hobie is so incredibly thankful for everything you do. The way you’re so tender with him. The way you just seem to know what to do to help him. You’re so incredible to him.

So he whispers a simple ‘thank you, swee’heart’ to thank you, finally letting his body rest and recuperate to continue his work in the coming days.

—

The fifth canon event Hobie Brown experienced was kissing the love of his life upside down.

It was cheesy, as Hobie and you could describe it. But he had just taken down some more corrupt government, seeing victory shine in his eyes. On top of that, he previously asked you to marry him, and you saying yes only added to his wonderful day.

Of course, your shared idea of marriage was different. In short, he put one of his rings on yours to be the symbol. The two of you would spend a day together, forge a silly little paper to say your married, sneak it in the courts, and call it a day. The perfect wedding for the perfect anarchist couple.

After his successful take down, he swung to the neighborhood you two lived in. It was quaint, you both preferred it that way. Somewhat safer as well.

He heard you earlier say you had to head to the corner shoppe, so that’s where he went. He lied on the rooftop with a perfect view of the entrance. Then, all he had to do was sit, and wait to see your pretty face walk out.

When you did, he turned himself upside down to hang on the side of the building, calling out to you. “Back from a day’s work of corrup’ gover’ment take down.”

You glance down the alleyway the voice came from, an amused smile cornering your lips. You glance around before making your way towards Hobie. Gently placing down the groceries, you glance up at him.

“Hope all that blood and ego doesn’t rush to your head, hanging upside down like that.” You tease.

“Can’t help how cool I truly am.” He replies, lowering himself so that he’s now at your level, still upside down. “You seem t’ think so too. Wha’s that on ‘ur finger, hm?”

“Geez, this gonna be a regular thing?” You fake a groan, hands finding placement on Hobie’s cheeks.

“‘s like y’know me so well..”

You stare at your fiancé for a while, just admiring him. The way he seemingly gave no care to anyone who judged him. He lived so freely, teaching you how to follow after him. Hobie Brown was so magnificent.. and here he was, at your every whim.

Before you knew it, your fingers began taking off the lower bit of his mask. Rolling it up, to reveal his beautiful lips, lip piercing shining in contrast to his beautiful skin.

“Wha’s this for?” He questions, hands holding tightly onto your now dropped ones.

You smile. “Such a.. silly reason, I’m afraid.” You mutter, leaning into his body. “I just wanted to kiss you..”

Then you lean in, kissing Hobie gently. His lips immediately match yours, taking in the warmth you provide. The kiss is so loving.. so incredibly beautiful. It is your first engaged after all.

Even when you pull away, a smirk plays at his lips. He brings his hands up to cup your face, pulling you in for another long kiss. He just can’t ever get enough of you.

Hobie never did believe in canon events. Of course he’s experienced so many with you now. But he can’t help but still keep his belief away from the idea. Because that could lead to your demise.

And Hobie will be damned if you die on him.

—

The sixth canon event Hobie Brown experienced was losing the best thing to ever happen to him.

It was a protest gone wrong. You both agreed to march the front lines, to protest for a better living wage for the lower class. Something the two of you have been fighting for for months on end.

Government never liked protests.

Of course, they sent their force to shut it down. To “stop any future damage”. But that was only a front. The pigs sent down actually stormed the crowd of protesters, putting their hands on anyone they could find.

Hobie quickly took on his Spider-punk role, defeating anyone he can before it happened. He saved a ton of lives, swiping them away from the police before webbing the bad guys to buildings. Things were going good for him. Until the explosion.

He just landed on a building to try and observe who still needed help. His eyes caught you shoving down a cop onto the ground, and his smile under the mask grew. You glanced up at him, giving your own smile, and a wave.

Hobie was about to swoop down to come grab you, but the cop got up, through his explosive to the ground. It rolled right next to your feet.

“Shit! [Name], watch-!”

But his words were too late. The explosion sent you flying into the side of a building, back thrown against it harshly. Almost everyone began scrambling after that, running from the scene. But not Spider-punk. He immediately made it to you, picking up your weak body.

His breathing picked up. “No.. no, ‘s not like this. Jus’, hang on.” He whispered over and over, swinging to a nearby rooftop.

You groan, already feeling the crimson liquid leak from your head and stomach. Everything was blurry, like a daze. Yet Hobie’s face was clear and recognizable. Even under his mask, he showed such obvious signs of worries, even regret.

Eventually, he drops his own body to the ground, yanking his mask off. His hands immediately hold your again.

“Damn.. just like.. that, hm?” You managed, body already showing the signs of shutting down. “Hurts, y’know?”

“Don’’ you dare give up on me.” Hobie muttered, ripping off the sleeve to his suit. “‘s all gonna be fine.”

You laugh weakly, head thrown back. “Dunno if I’ve got a choice, Hobes..”

With careful fingers, Hobie ties his sleeve around the wound. He didn’t want to hurt you more, but the bleeding had to stop before getting any worse. A small part of him knew it was hopeless. Futile, even. He was almost back in the beginning. When he was barely starting out in his duties, and he failed to save his good friend. Now he failed to save you. Here you were, dying in his arms.

Hobie took a deep breath. “Ya can’t.. swee’heart, c’mon..”

“Don’t be sad, Hobes..” You whisper, hand finding his cheek. “I wanna see you smile..”

Of course you would request that, only you. He gives such a weak laugh, one that brings the best smile he can manage. But it quickly turns back to sadness.

Then, a smile graces your face. “God.. I love that smile..” You whisper, coughing weakly. Blood seeps through the cloth on your stomach. You were losing it.

“‘m gonna miss ya, swee’heart.. s’much..” Hobie says, tears falling from his eyes.

“I know, Hobes.”

Hobie doesn’t remember the last time he let himself cry like this. Maybe when he was a kid? When his best friend died? Who knows. But now, now his tears wouldn’t stop flowing, nose sniffing over and over again.

Why can’t you just stay?

“I have’ta go..” You say sadly, almost as if reading his thoughts. “Don’t you dare.. stop bein’ a hero, ya hear? I’ll rise just to smack you..” Were your next words, almost as if reprimanding him.

Once again, Hobie laughed his quiet laugh. “Well now I neve’ can.. Jus’ f’you..” He says in a whisper.

You feel your breathing start to fall short, coughing and hacking. Hobie holds you tighter, whispers of “I love you” and “I’ll miss you” exchanged over and over.

“I love you.. Hobie Brown..” Were your last words. “My Spider-punk..”

And then.. you were gone. Just like that.

—

“Hobie? Hobie!”

Gwen had to call out to him a mere three times before he came back to. His eyes shut and opened as he remembers where he was. Right, Spider-society. Gwen and him were walking and chatting.

“Righ’, sorry Gwendy.”

Gwen waves it off. “Don’t even worry. Anyways, I heard about a couple new recruits.”

Hobie listened to his younger friend talk and talk, but his mind was elsewhere. Today was a particularly.. memorable day. He just couldn’t seem to get you out of his head. Normally Hobie wouldn’t complain.. but he misses you.

His thoughts circle him too much, and next thing he knows, he bumped into another Spider-totem.

“Crap, my bad. Didn’t see you there!”

…what?

Hobie knows that voice. Of course he does. He glances down at the stranger, finally seeing the face he missed so much. The face his nights yearned to see again. The face he missed screaming and supporting him at his concerts. The face of you.

“…uhm, are you okay? Oh my god I didn’t hit you that hard, did I?”

Gwen glanced back from her spot, noticing the scene occurring. Her eyes widen. Oh no..

She immediately walks to the two of you, chuckling awkwardly. “Hey! So sorry, he’s in a little daze today! C’mon Hobie!”

You glance up at the guy again, finally getting a good look at him. But he’s just staring. His eyes are seemingly.. longing. They’re lonely, that much you can tell. He has a demeanor about him.. one that reminds you of someone. Even his face looks familiar.. wait!

“What a coincidence!” You suddenly say. “My boyfriend’s name is Hobie! From my dimension at least.”

Hobie finally snapped from his trance, your words reaching his ears. “How.. coinciden’al..” He whispers.

“Well.. it was nice to meet you, Hobie.” You smile, offering out a hand for him to shake. “Hope t’ see ya around!”

He shakes your hand and.. oh does the contact feel so good. But he doesn’t linger. Hobie simply watches you walk off, that same cheerful demeanor reflecting in your every step.

Of course it felt like you got away again. And he had almost no doubt that the Hobie you love so dear will meet a demise. But he’ll stick with you. Stick with being your friend and being there when you need him.

Because Hobie would walk through this pain a thousand times if it meant you were in his life again.

[magneto-was-fucking-right]

The Ghost Next Door - Chapter 6

Prompt: After suffering an almost lethal injury in combat, Simon "Ghost" Riley expected a dull, and uneventful leave back at his shitty apartment. His new next-door neighbor ruins his plans. Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader (named Riley Thomas for plot purposes)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 7

Disclaimer: slow burn; neighbor!Simon; semi-sexual content

Chapter Summary: In which Simon's neighbor gets drunk with his best friend and ends up, once again, on his couch.

Word Count: 3.1K

On a cold, rainy Friday night, Riley Thomas knocked on her neighbor’s door in sweatpants and a hoodie, a large pizza box from the restaurant down the street in hand. When Simon finally reached the door, the young woman slid inside quickly, sighing in relief at the comforting heat of his apartment.

“Why’d you take so long? The hallway is freezing!” She complained as a way of greeting, setting down the carton box on his table before rubbing her hands together.

“I took two minutes, you big baby.”

She rolled her eyes playfully.

“What’d you pick for tonight?” Riley asked curiously, peeking at his TV as she settled on the couch and quickly covered herself with their designated movie blanket.

“Mamma Mia.” 

“Fuck off.” She stared at him in disbelief, a mocking grin slowly creeping about her cheeks.  “Guilty pleasure?”

“One of many.”

She shook her head in amusement “You’re a man full of surprises, Simon.”

“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.” He chuckled.

A slow, tentative friendship had begun blooming between them over the weeks, as Riley found herself in her broody neighbor's company more often than not. Simon’s icy walls had started to crumble increasingly easier at the young woman’s terrible jokes, finding comfort in her amiable invitations for a movie night, a dog walk, or something as simple as a quiet talk while each of them did their laundry in the building’s basement.

Tonight was different for Riley, as it had been Simon’s idea for them to share the evening together, excitement bubbling in her stomach at their new found companionship. She spent her work days longing for their moments together, when she would come home to find he had prepared dinner and “accidentally” made enough to share, dropping by as soon as he heard her turn the key on her door. She noticed the recurrent acts of service with a soft, yearning heart when he took out his trash and offered to take hers as well, maintaining a neutral expression and shrugging awkwardly when she beamed at him and thanked him endlessly. 

A few days before, when she had invited him over for a hot cup of tea and cake, Simon had ended up washing the dishes, despite her constant protests, appearing nonchalant as he claimed he was just checking for leaks in the fickle plumbing.

Despite growing closer, the pair still maintained a set of respectful boundaries that assured their mutual trust: as Simon filled each of them a glass of wine, placing them on the coffee table along with the pizza, Riley knew she shouldn’t look as he removed his usual black facemask to eat, keeping her eyes on the screen as she made occasional remarks about the movie.

“I can’t believe you like this.” She laughed as the dramatic musical unfolded, cheesy and cheerful songs filling the dimly lit flat. “Big old broody man enjoying Abba songs in a rom com.” 

“It’s entertainin’.” He grunted as he grabbed another slice of pizza, trying to ignore how close they sat to each other under the blanket, her feet up and near his muscled thigh. Simon’s phone buzzed and he quickly grabbed it with his clean hand, reading the notification and stifling an affectionate smile.

He could almost feel how hard she tried not to stare, as well as ask about it, as she took another long sip of wine.

“Still interested in findin’ the pup an owner?” His deep voice made her snap her head at him on instinct, quickly looking away as she realized his face was still bare.

“Sorry.” She felt her cheeks heat, but Simon merely shrugged, eyes glinting as he put the mask back on. “Yes, I really can’t keep him trapped in such a small flat, let alone keep listening to Mrs. Parsons complain about the noise.”

“The old hag still botherin’ ya?”

“Every single day.” Riley sighed in defeat, running a nervous hand over her messy braid.

“My friend’s coming back from deployment in a few days. Might come visit and stay over to meet the dog, see how they get along.”

Riley felt her insides boil with something hot she tried hard to conceal. It wasn’t pleasant, and she felt ridiculous as she asked:

“Do you think she’ll be interested?” Her tone was almost casual enough that Simon didn’t pick up on her small trap. Almost. 

“I think he is very interested.” He made sure to drag out the pronoun and noticed her flustered expression, even as she kept her eyes on the screen. “He’s always wanted one.”

The young woman nodded silently and hummed to the music as she took another bite of her slice.

“Why’d you take on rescues anyway?” He asked, killing the awkward silence between them.

“They were gonna be put down! I couldn’t just let them die! Can you imagine being sentenced to death just because of undesirable traits or features?”

“I can. It was called the Holocaust, love.”

“Simon!” She scoffed, smacking him on the arm. 

He pretended it hurt, and she pretended he wasn’t funny.

***

Johnny MacTavish was a burly, five foot ten, crackling ball of energy that put any other force of nature to shame. With bright blue eyes, a questionable hairstyle and a barely understandable accent, the Scot appeared unaware of the existence of the very concept of shyness or social anxiety.

When Riley Thomas had opened her door on the next lazy Friday evening, in nothing but leggings and an oversized sweater, she found herself in the man’s bone crushing hug before she could even utter a simple “hello”.

“Christ…” She gasped, unable to process why, exactly, the stranger was so excited to see her, until she peeked over his shoulder and saw Simon leaning against the hallway, arms crossed as he rolled his eyes at the scene.

"There ya are lass" he cheerily put her down, and the young woman discreetly gasped for breath, laughing nervously at the unexpected display of affection. "I'm Johnny. I heard so much about ya."

"Did you?" She scowled at Simon "Unfortunately I can't say the same."

Simon's facemask covered his smirk.

"Aye, do not worry lass, I know Ghost can be an old grump"

Simon grunted in response and Riley quirked an eyebrow.

"Ghost?" She turned to Simon inquisitively, but he gave no signs of willingness to indulge her curiosity.

"Aye, it's his call sign becau-"

"Johnny" Simon warned firmly, and the Scot toned down a notch, nodding.

"Right...anyway lass, I thought we ought to invite ya to the pub with us tonight." His smile was so endearing she couldn't possibly refuse, despite looking down at her own clothes with a frown.

"I'm sorry, I had no idea you were coming today." She shrugged anxiously "I'd have to go get ready an-"

"That's alright! Wouldn’t want to steal yer night with him. We'll wait, won't we Simon?" He nudged the man with an elbow, his frame so much larger than Johnny's that it was almost comical.

Simon was silent for a moment, seemingly weighing the outcomes of what he was getting himself into, before looking her in the eyes and nodding once in approval.

“We wait.”

And that was how two hours later, the trio had ended up bumping shoulders at a packed bar in downtown Manchester, the two men always by her side. Riley glanced over her shoulder, amused by the view: it was like walking with a very intimidating Dobermann, alongside an overly excited and friendly golden retriever. Opposites in every possible way.

 Simon wore his casual black face mask and hoodie, along with denim jeans, his blonde locks handsomely swept back, the only indication he had made an effort to look better than usual, other than the smell of his expensive cologne that Riley kept discreetly trying to get whiffs of. The young woman had opted for a pair of her best jeans, the ones that didn’t yet look too washed up and hugged her curves just right, along with a warm, modest top that didn’t reveal too much cleavage, covered by a faux leather jacket.

Simon quirked an eyebrow at her gaze, silently challenging her to say something, to which she giggled, flushing slightly as his hand lightly nudged her lower back to steer her into the right direction. The three of them ended up sitting on a corner booth, after venturing to the counter to fetch their drinks: for Simon, a bourbon, for Riley, a gin, and for Johnny, a massive pint of beer that would make him carry his weight in piss in half an hour.

“I gotta say, you’re a bonnie lass.” Johnny was slurring out by the time the fifth pint was half way gone. By then, Riley was feeling tipsy from her own alcohol, her cheeks flushed as she giggled at Johnny’s predicament.

“I’m gonna pretend I understood what you just said.” She lazily twirled the straw on her third drink, playing with the ice at the bottom of the glass.

Simon rolled his eyes, the bourbon barely warming up his blood,  but there was a glint of affection in his eyes as he countered “Easy, McTavish.”

“Don’t lose yer wits, Simon, just trynna’ help you remember how to treat a lass.” He leaned forward, confiding in Riley “Did ya know he hasn’t gotten laid in-”

“Sergeant.” A low growl in warning as Riley pressed him on, curiously.

“Go on! Now I wanna know!”

“No ya don’t.” She could almost swear she saw him blush under that mask.

“I can’t count the months on me fingers, I’ll tell you that.” Johnny lifted his hands playfully, and Simon glared at him, a silent threat ever present as his dark eyes squinted at him.

Riley roared with laughter, her dimples more noticeable than ever.

“Months? Those are rookie numbers. I haven’t gotten laid in four years.” She drunkenly blurted out, and Simon stiffened by her side, as Johnny choked on his drink. 

“What? How’s that possible?” The Scot coughed as the young woman shrugged, amused by his reaction.

“I don’t go out much.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t like people much.” She avoided his gaze shyly, downing the rest of her gin “Plus, I work a lot.”

“Ya’ two are a match made in heaven.” He pointed out, ignoring Simon’s scowl and her playful eye roll.

“Cheer up Simon Riley, yer best friend is back and ya have a lovely lady by your side.” The Scot taunted before downing the rest of his pint.

Riley Thomas halted, looking up at the broody man sitting by her side, eyes glassy and sleepy as her drunken mind tried to comprehend what she had just heard.

“Wait…Simon Riley? Your last name is Riley?” Simon sighed deeply before looking her over, grunting in agreement.

The young woman chuckled to herself, leaning her head playfully against his muscled arm.

“Why didn’t you tell me? That’s hilarious!” Simon stifled an amused smile as he pretended to dodge from her touch. “Do you realize…” She poked his chest with her pointer finger “Do you realize that if we ever got married I’d be called Riley Riley?”

“That’s exactly why.” Simon retorted, rolling his eyes for the millionth time since the beginning of the day, but he felt himself buzzing at her words, at the fact she had considered, even if just for a moment, even if just playfully…

 For a moment, he found himself lost in her inebriated gaze. The droopy eyelids, the soft smile dotted by those damn dimples. The chipped tooth that always caught his attention, and the way she was leaning against his arm made something warm bubble in his stomach. She looked up at him so innocently, so curiously, that for a split second he almost forgot his best friend was right across the table.

“Get a room!” He taunted, almost breaking Simon’s usual stoic expression. “Save tha’ for later. Now we need shots!” 

“You’re a sip away from death, mate. I’d call it a night.” 

“But I haven’ even told her the Al Mazrah story!”

“And it’ll stay that way if ya want to live.” Simon threatened, and Riley perked up once again, eyes glimmering with humor.

“Tell me right now!”

“Imagine this, lass: scorching heat of the Middle East…”

“Soap.”

 “A food poisoned Simon on a sniper recon mission, no toilets in sight-”

“I’ll smack ya so hard I’ll turn that mohawk into a fade.” 

The young woman had tears rolling down her cheeks as she roared with laughter, picturing the situation so clearly she was out of breath.

“Away n’bile yer heid!” Johnny retorted at Simon’s threat.

“English, Mctavish.”

“Sorry L.T. Let me translate… “Go fuck yourself.”

“Much better.”

***

It must have been four in the morning when Riley Thomas felt herself being carefully placed on a familiar couch, strong arms under her back and legs. She felt so dizzy she knew it would be over if she so much as lifted her head, opting to remain still as Simon’s comforting scent temporarily disappeared. She could hear him guide a stumbling, barely conscious Johnny into his bed, not trusting the intoxicated man to sleep properly on his couch. 

When he finally returned, seemingly the only semi-sober one of the bunch, he once again reached down to carry her to her own flat in his arms, halting once he saw her open her sleepy eyes. Simon felt himself stiffen as she wrapped her arms around his neck clumsily, inhaling his neck deeply.

“You smell so good, Simon.” She slurred out, tone soft in his quiet, barely lit living room. He couldn’t move, unsure of how to react to the sudden affectionate touch, hands holding his weight on the couch.

“You need to sleep, love.” He muttered gently through his face mask, giving her shoulder blades a quick rub through her jacket and hoping she would free him from the awkward position.

“I’m fine.” She nuzzled further into the curve of his neck and he shivered, feeling the smell of her own perfume, mixed with alcohol and sweat.

“Riley…”

“Simon.” She let go of his neck, but forced him to sit down next to her, barely making out his face through the dim lighting and her blurred vision. “I…”

“Shhh. You’re sloshed.”

“I know, but I’m okay, I promise.”

“Let me get ya to your bed, yeah? Where are your keys?”

She had never heard him speak so softly, in such a caring, gentle way. Her heart was beating furiously, as deep, joyful warmth spread through her stomach when she looked at him. At his half covered face, dark eyes framed by blonde lashes that she found so endearing.

She silently moved closer, reaching over his lap and turning off the only source of light from a small table lamp. She heard him release a shuddering breath, his large hands gripping the couch for dear life. Riley placed a cautious hand on his shoulder in the dark, to guide herself into slowly straddling his muscled thighs, careful enough to sit closer to his knees, instead of his groin.

Simon Riley’s heart thudded so hard against his chest he was surprised she couldn’t hear it, his body frozen into place, nervously awaiting her next move.

Riley’s trembling hands reached up ever so slowly, fingertips trailing a curious path over his soft blonde locks, down to the crease on his forehead, the perfect arch of his eyebrows, all the way to his strong nose, where her finger locked in the black mask. Unmoving and barely visible, she was unsure of his reaction, as she slowly began pulling it down.

“Do you mind?” She whispered, so close their breaths mingled. 

“Hm.” Was all he could mutter, but one of his hands gently gripped her hip, steadying her in his lap. His thumb circled the small patch of exposed skin on her waist, where the top almost met the jeans.

She continued her ministrations leisurely, giving him enough time to stop her if he wished. But he didn’t, and her finger pulled his mask all the way down to under his chin, where she felt the stubble. Riley could barely breathe, doing her best to contain her excitement as her cold fingers trailed his face in the dark.

She felt the contour of his lips, slightly chapped as her thumb parted them tentatively. The raise of a scar, that seemed to have been carved all the way to the jaw, where she rubbed slow, careful circles lovingly. She felt his trembling breath on her flushed skin, the sounds of her faux leather jacket as she moved about, the only noise in the room. 

Riley placed a tender kiss on his cheek, feeling embarrassed as she felt the warmth that immediately soaked her underwear once her skin came in contact with his. The mixture of alcohol and desire in her blood seemed to burn, making her ache with longing as she kissed his nose, his forehead, and then his other cheek, until she was trailing his strong jaw, the stubble tickling her lips.

“Riley…” He muttered, their mouths so close she could almost drink in his words.

“Please.” She begged in a silent whisper, joining her forehead to his, hands cupping his face tenderly. 

His other hand held an iron grip on the couch, not letting up.

“You’re drunk.” He whispered back, teetering on the edge of self-control.

“I need you.” She replied, her lips ghosting his in the dark, skin almost grazing. She began moving her hips lower towards his groin, but although Simon had held his breath at the confession, his heart hammering in his chest, he finally gripped both of her hips firmly, keeping her away from the raging boner she would have found.

“I can’t, love.” He murmured softly, hoping she would understand.

“Please Simon.” She clumsily tried to fight off his grip, eager to press her aching body to his. “I need you so bad.”

Simon bit his lip so hard he was surprised he wasn’t bleeding as he did his best to keep his fraying sanity through her tender pleas.

He knew he was done for if he felt the softness of her lips, her wet tongue and the grind of her hips against his rock-hard shaft.

“Don’t do this to me, love.”

“I’m so wet.” She admitted, and he felt the crease of her frustrated frown against his own, words coated with need and shame. He sighed deeply, his bruising grip on her hips tempting him to just pull her into him. He could feel himself pulse in his briefs, so painfully hard.

“Four years is a long time.” He grunted softly.

“I know.” She practically whimpered.

“You’re very drunk, love. You can barely stand upright.”

“But-”

“Riley.” She stilled at his commanding tone. “I’m taking you to bed. We’ll talk tomorrow once you’ve rested up, yeah?”

Her shoulders slouched in defeat, the rejection still stinging as she placed another kiss to his cheek before muttering:

“Okay.” 

A/N: I'm back! And I managed to bring my work laptop home, which (hopefully) means quicker updates! :) Once again thank you to everyone reading and keep that feedback coming - seriously, it keeps me going. The slow burn is finally burning and the next chapters are gonna be spicy.

TAG LIST (I hope I haven't forgotten anyone)

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[eiightysixbaby]

best friends to lovers eddie x reader blurb inspired by this ask, following up this request 💗 i am leaning into fem!reader for this, just a heads up. 18+ please.

cw: fingering, eddie is extremely touchy, reader struggles feeling confident in the new relationship, and yeah I think that’s it? this is smutty but soft smutty, eddie is a gentle baby

Things had been going great since you started dating Eddie, your best friend of 6 years. Once you’d jumped over the hurdle that was your first kiss, it’d been getting easier for you to lean into the couple aspect of things. You felt comfortable stealing kisses from your boyfriend not just in private, but out in public too. Quick smooches on the cheek as Eddie tries to keep a serious face during his Hellfire campaigns, pecks on the lips at restaurants when you go on dates, so on and so forth, you were head over heels for the curly haired doofus you had the pleasure of calling yours.

However, for some reason you couldn’t fully shake the awkwardness around doing… more… with Eddie. You’d had your first time together already, and it was wonderful, honestly. Sweet and passionate and slow, gentle touches here and intimate kisses there. Eddie was good, he knew what he was doing. But you just found it hard to be bold with him, to be handsy and clingy and rile him up. Eddie, however, was nothing if not touchy. He was testing the waters, and he was testing them hard, putting his hands on you whenever he possibly could. And it didn’t bother you per say, you liked his confidence, liked the way he claimed you as his with subtle touches, and he’d never touch you if you revoked consent, but you just felt…. awkward. Made you feel guilty that you couldn’t shake the awkwardness. You hadn’t spoken up about this to him, but he was sure to find out at some point.

It’s a Tuesday night, and the two of you agreed to go out to eat with Steve and Robin, meeting at the local diner, a couple weeks into your relationship. Eddie’s rust bucket van pulls into the parking lot, the fluorescent neon sign flashing teal and red onto the pavement. Stepping out, you see Robin waiting by the door with Steve beside her, and you excitedly run to her for a hug. Eddie strolls up behind you, snaking his arm around your waist as he greets your friends, giving Steve a friendly shove as your group walks through the diner doors. You feel Eddie’s hand squeeze your ass lightly, no one behind you to see, thankfully. You squeal softly in surprise, and Eddie leans down to press a kiss to your head, pulling you closer into his side. Your feel your cheeks heat up as you follow Steve to a booth by the window.

The time passes easily as you chat with your friends, catching up on the last week or so since you’ve seen each other. You all order burgers and a shitload of fries to share, you and Eddie splitting a chocolate milkshake with more whipped cream on top than you could ever imagine. Eddie playfully scoops some of the white fluff onto his index finger, waggling it at you to get you to lick it off. Hesitantly, you take his finger into your mouth, sucking the whipped sugar off, and your boyfriend wiggles his eyebrows at you as you do. Steve gives a low wolf whistle as Robin laughs.

“Okay, lovebirds, we get it!” She jokes, rolling her eyes playfully at the two of you.

You give her a small smile, but you honestly feel like sliding down under the table to hide. Their attention feels weird, the awkwardness bubbling back up in your throat. Thankfully, the conversation shifts and Eddie’s antics are forgotten.

But with Eddie, the antics are never really over. Throughout the remainder of your outing he’s gripping your thigh, wrapping his arms around you, squeezing the skin of your hips, even slinking his fingers under you to attempt to grab your ass yet again, which warrants a yelp from you as you slap him lightly on the arm. The goosebumps that form on your skin under his touch and the heat that rises between your thighs bring you to a realization, then. You like how Eddie touches you, but you simply find it hard to lean into the way you like it, the way you crave it. You feel awkward because you want more from him, and it makes you a little uncomfortable to have these kinds of thoughts about your original best friend, in front of your other best friends. You’re having totally filthy thoughts about Eddie, and it’s hard to come to terms with the fact that this is going to be a normal thing.

On the drive home, Eddie can tell that you’re tense. He snakes a hand over to your thigh, resting mere inches away from the spot where you desperately want his hands to be. When you slightly flinch under his touch, he cocks an eyebrow at you.

“Babe, is something wrong? Do you not like when I touch you? I can stop, shit, we can take this slower if that’s what you want…” he’s rambling slightly, nervous. He so badly wants to get it right with you.

“No, Eddie, it’s not that. I promise,” you reassure him, squeezing his hand. “It’s just, I- I’m so not used to you touching me like this. I’m not used to wanting to be touched like this by you. I need more, Eddie. And it feels awkward still, and I can’t shake it,” you blurt out all at once, rushing the words.

Eddie’s gaze softens, looking from the road, to you, and back to the road.

“You need more, baby?” he’s smirking now, and you’re not sure if you like it.

You narrow your eyes at him suspiciously. “What’re you grinning like that for, Munson?”

“No reason, doll. Just that I think I can make this all a lotttttt less awkward for you.”

You tilt your head in question, but he says nothing the remainder of the drive back to his trailer. When you get inside, Eddie’s quick to shut the door behind you, throwing his keys on the table. He cups your face in his hands and kisses you, passionate as ever. You melt into his touch, your stomach doing flips. He grabs your hand and pulls you towards the sofa, letting you sink down into the worn cushions.

“Eddie, c’mon, what’s in that head of yours?” you urge him to say something, let you know what’s on his mind.

“Lean back for me, sweet thing,” he coaxes you so you’re sitting with your back against one armrest of the couch, your legs stretched out across the cushions.

Eddie sits beside you, lifting your legs up and over his lap, spreading them slightly. He turns to face you, hovering over you before he’s pressing more kisses to your lips, his tongue prodding at your bottom lip slightly. You open for him, letting his tongue slide over your own, fully sinking into him and allowing him to take control. Eddie’s hands run up and down the sides of your body, making you shiver.

“E-Eddie,” your voice is a whisper as you say his name, but he cuts you off.

“It’s okay, sweet girl. I know you want more, it’s okay. You’re safe with me,” the backs of his knuckles run over your cheek gently, soothing you.

He hooks his fingers through the belt loops on your jeans, looking up at you, a silent prompt for your consent to remove the clothing. You swallow a lump in your throat that you didn’t realize was there, nodding at him slowly. You want his hands on you so bad, need his hands all over your body, but you’re so embarrassed to ask for it.

Eddie pulls your jeans off your legs in one swift motion, exposing you to him a bit more, now only concealed by your underwear. He’s soft with his touches, starting by reaching up under your shirt, under your bra, until he finds your breasts. Squeezing the flesh, rolling your nipples between two fingers, making your breath hitch. He works his way down, lightly caressing your sides, squeezing your hips and thighs, making you mewl softly for him.

“You want this, baby? Want me to touch you?” Eddie purrs, big eyes gazing at you intently.

“Yeah, Eddie. Please,” you take a deep breath, relaxing your nerves.

Eddie lightly runs his thumb over your clit through the soft cotton of your underwear, and your hips involuntarily buck up ever so slightly. Your cheeks flush, and he leans over to kiss you once more, reassuring you that he’ll take care of you.

He continues to kiss you, lips never leaving yours as he slides the fabric of your panties to one side, a finger slightly breaching your entrance. You tense up for a moment, before ultimately relaxing into his touch as he pushes his finger further inside of you.

“That’s my girl,” Eddie coos, finger sliding in and out of you slowly. “Doesn’t it feel so good, baby?”

You nod instantly, grasping for purchase on his shoulder with one hand, digging your nails into his sweatshirt. Eddie adds another finger, gauging your reaction as he does. You throw your head back, moaning softly for him, which only encourages him to keep going. His two fingers curl expertly inside your gooey walls, the heat from your cunt engulfing his digits. And that’s how you spend the next half hour, Eddie teasing you, drawing out orgasm after orgasm as he fucks you with his thick fingers. The awkwardness you once felt fades away the longer he’s inside you, the more orgasms he pulls from you. He’s gentle with you, taking care not to hurt you, or do something to scare you away. Doing everything he can to make sure you feel comfortable under his touch, that you feel comfortable wanting him.

When you finally decide you’ve had enough, Eddie turns on the shower for the two of you, holding your body to his chest under the warm water. Calloused fingers running along your whole body, and finally, finally, you let yourself give into him without a second thought. No hesitation. You find your own hands roaming his body, wrapping around his neck, running your fingertips down his chest, tickling the trail of dark hair that travels below his belly button. This is a turning point for you, you’re ready to sink fully into the bliss that is falling in love with your best friend. You allow yourself to be comfortable touching him, allow yourself to crave him, to ask for more. And he’ll give you everything you ever want for the rest of his days.

[kazemi-archive]

Photoshop

Pairing: Matsukawa Issei x Hanamaki!Reader Word Count: 1.1k Genre: fluff mostly <3 Preview: Takahiro had marked you and Issei as "off limits" to each other… unfortunately, neither of you really were good at listening to directions.

You had one person that your brother marked as “off limits.” One boy that you weren’t allowed to set your eyes on in that way. One person who you couldn’t touch.

Matsukawa Issei had one person his best friend marked as “off limits”. One girl that he wasn’t even allowed to give a second glance to. One person he had to ignore.

Unfortunately for Takahiro… neither of you really were ever good at listening to directions.

You giggled as hands grabbed your waist, tucking you into the familiar chest as you were dragged behind the wall you were passing.

You had tried, you really had, to stay away from each other. For years, you were sure. Eyes stealing glances at each other from across the room. When your brother’s back was turned.

“I missed you.” Issei whispered in your ear over your giggles as he pulled back just enough to drop his lips down to yours.

You had tried to distract yourself with a cycle of boys, dates that you only half wanted to go on with people you only half liked. Which was actually, how you’d wound up here, kissing Issei in secret behind a wall in public, out of sight from anyone who could possibly know you.

~-~-~-~-~

It had been one of those dates. One of the ones you only half wanted to go on. One that ended about as well as you’d assumed it would. You’d snuck off to the bathroom to call Takahiro for a rescue about 20 minutes into the dinner. The boy’s comments and leering eyes had you shifting in your seat uncomfortably as you waited for your brother to come through the front door of the restaurant.

Surprisingly though, it wasn’t your brother who came through. Issei had come barging in in a frenzy, swinging his arms in faux anger, snapping at the boy across from you and pretending to be your jilted lover as he hauled you out of your seat. You could barely stop yourself from giggling as you followed him out.

You were both laughing, hysterically as he tossed you the spare helmet to his bike and helped you on behind him. Your knight in black leather, you’d called him. And he’d smirked and called you a motorcycle princess. It was a stupid joke you’d passed and laughed as you clung to him while he drove you home.

You’d showed up at your house only to find Takahiro still gone. Issei had meant to come in only to wait for your brother, only to wait for him. But when you’d leaned over the back of the couch to hand him a soda, you’d caught his lingering eyes and taken your chance.

Kissing him for the first time had stolen your breath, set off fireworks behind your eyelids. And there was no going back. The two of you had kissed, sloppily and desperately, right up until the moment you heard Takahiro’s keys in the front door of the house. You’d ducked out to your room before your brother could catch you doing the one thing he’d told you not to.

You hadn’t had the guts to tell him. The one single thing that your brother had asked you and his best friend to not do. Both of you snuck kisses in the kitchen during their game nights. You’d snuck him into your room countless times. Snuck out to see him. Slipped to the next town over to have dates. Lied relentlessly to your brother.

You wanted to feel guilty. You did, sometimes, feel guilty that is. But it was like all of that dissipated the second that his lips touched yours.

Your hands gripped onto his jacket as his arm snaked around your waist, lifting you onto your toes to kiss him easier. “I miss you.” He chuckled against your lips.

“You saw me this morning when you dropped those papers off to Takahiro.” You teased, scrunching your nose up at him as you pulled back.

His eyes twinkled as he looked down at you, biting at his lip as he raked his gaze over your face. “Yeah, but I didn’t get to kiss you this morning.”

You couldn’t help the blush that crept onto your cheeks, heat flexing across your skin as you leaned into him more. You wished, for your brother’s sake, that you didn’t want so desperately to be around Issei all of the time. You wished that you didn’t need to be around him all the time. But you did. You wanted him around you always. It was like he was the air in your lungs.

You’d tried to ignore it. To tell yourself you were dramatic. And then Issei had mused the same feelings back to you. The blood in his veins. That’s what he’d called you. Whispered against your skin as he confessed that he’d loved you for years. That he didn’t think he could hold it in anymore.

It was exhilarating, running around, sneaking around together, kissing behind buildings and on side streets. It was bitten lips and crappy excuses to explain away lost time and the tiny bruises flowering across the skin of your necks. It was-

“Y/n?” Your head snapped up, flipping around to the sound of the voice. “Mattsun?”

“Oh fuck.” You mumbled, eyes locking onto the floppy brown curls of the biggest mouth you both knew.

“Oikawa!” You called, but he had already turned and started off. “Oikawa!” You groaned and detangled yourself from Issei, and took off after the boy. Oikawa was too far gone, way faster than you could go, sighing and panting in exasperation by the time you reached his original spot.

“Well.” Issei sighed, catching up to you, hand running through his hair in nervousness. “Guess the secret is up?” You looked at Issei in disbelief. “What?” He threw his hands up in defense. “He’s def going straight to the group chat with that photo.”

“Photo!?” You shrieked, horror crossing your face as you processed what was about to happen.

As if on queue, Issei’s phone buzzed once. Twice. Four more times. You winced as your phone rang, Takahiro’s face appearing on your screen in the form of his contact photo.

“He-hey bro.” You squeaked out as you answered the call. The other end was silent. “Hiro?” You questioned through the phone. Still silence. “Takahiro?”

Issei’s fingers fumbled with his phone and you looked at him confused as he put the phone to his ear. “Makki?” You heard Issei’s voice echo through your phone and winced.

“Fucking tell me Oikawa learned how to fucking photoshop.”

a/n: idkkkk i just wanted the thoughts out of my head sorry its so bleh but i might write more for this later <3

[whositmcwhatsit]

Enjoyable Slide to Oblivion

Like a lot of girls, Chancy Crawford had once been able to call herself one of Elvis's girlfriends, but that was long time ago. Now, she called herself his friend, or his 'cousin' if any of his girlfriends asked. It was just easier that way. And their relationship was all about being comfortable and easy. Until she gets asked to come and join a tour that seems endless and cursed.

AN: I'm not sure if anyone remembers I used to write silly stories, but here's the next installment of one I have neglected for too long. Thank you to everyone who continued to patiently message and let me know how much they liked the characters and very politely ask for the next chapter.

Thanks to @thatbanditqueen for injuring herself in order to give me motivation. And reading to check that I still remembered how to type words. You might need to remind yourself what happened before: Chapter 11 Chapter 12- Move Across the night sky, with those anonymous lights.

Pulling up to the gate of one of Elvis’ homes always invoked a strange combination of emotions in Chancy no matter how often she visited. Maybe it was the fact that there was always, always, at least a few people standing around ogling her curiously, but there was also the insecurity that this might be the time that the gates would not open for her, and the pride she felt at how much he had achieved, as well as an undeserved sense of personal achievement that she knew someone who had so much. That last one always made her feel guilty. 

Harold kept her waiting, pretending that he needed to come to the window of her Chevrolet to see who she was and then saying he would have to call up to the house to check it was okay.

“Can’t be letting in just anyone, you know.” He went to the gatehouse and the gate began to open immediately. She smiled and pretended to be amused by his trick as she rolled past. 

Chancy pulled up around the back near to the fence where the staff parked. Her car fit in better there than next to the limo and the Lincolns and the cadillacs. She glanced in the rear view mirror and checked her make-up hadn’t slid off her face in the humidity. Her air conditioning was busted, again- it only ever seemed to happen in the summer, a cosmic joke or a punishment. 

Grabbing her two small, yellow travel cases, she swung the door shut with her hip and sighed, trying to force her heart to slow down by denying it oxygen. Just a visit, just a visit, she focused on the words and willed her heart to follow their rhythm. 

“Well, hello there, Chancy.” She started and dropped one of her cases as Mr Presley approached her from the office, a smile on his plump face. He had that end of the day twinkle in his eye and Chancy mused how, between his twinkle and Mrs Presley’s dancing glow in her brown eyes when she was laughing, it was no wonder Elvis could incapacitate people with just a glance.  

“Hi, Sir, it’s good to see you again!” She went to grab her fallen luggage, but Vernon reached it first and picked it up, adjusting his grip and miming like the case was heavy. 

“My Lord, what do you have in here?!”

“Well, you know now a girl can’t give away the secrets needed to make her presentable, it’d spoil the magic, wouldn’t it?” 

“I guess it would,” he agreed, still smiling slightly. “Though I reckon I need some magic to help this ole mug.” 

“Nonsense! I was just about to ask you for your secret!” 

Chancy could do this all day. In fact, she did do this all day; most of her job was buttering up clients and making them feel good about themselves. The fact that there was a slight ache to her cheeks as she smiled now was proof of how hard she worked. 

“Well, you always were a sweet girl,” he returned, glancing over his shoulder at the house and tightening his lips. “Let me walk you in, I know Elvis is expecting you.” He reached out for her other case and she let him take it, puzzled since Vernon didn’t usually go out of his way to be helpful or even really acknowledge her much past a short, pleasant greeting. 

On the way, they made small talk about the weather, which was the law in civilised society. One of them remarking on the heat, the other saying that it had to break soon. Debating whether it was hotter or cooler than previous years and then exchanging stories of the most extreme heat they had ever encountered. He told her about a time when he was a young man down in Mississippi and he was doing some work for a man who wore a hairpiece. The day got so hot that the glue melted and the hair started slipping when he spoke. No one was brave enough to tell him and lose the job. He mimed the man’s hair flying back and forth and how they had to all fight to keep their eyes from flicking from side to side with it. His laughter at his own story was infectious. 

As they came in through the back door, he paused in the dim back hallway. Somewhere nearby she could hear a football game being played on television and men’s voices rising and falling as they questioned plays and commiserated. 

“You know, it sure is good to see you, Chancy. Elvis’ mother always used to speak so highly of you and how well you took care of him.” He left the rest unspoken, looking behind him to the stairs to the basement, and then turning back and nodding at her. 

“Thank you, Mr Presley,” she smiled, a little puzzled. She awkwardly fished back her cases and wondered if he was working up to something, and if she should wait. 

Instead, he opened the door to the kitchen and motioned her in, wishing her a good night. 

In the kitchen, Elvis’ aunt Delta was complaining about trying to buy something and how they had raised the price when she gave them the delivery address. 

“Shouldn’t matter if it’s Tom, Dick or Elvis, if it’s fifty dollars it should stay fifty damn dollars. The nerve of people!” Her little dog was yipping and bouncing around her feet, excited by the heightened emotion in her voice. Mary, Elvis’ cook, her coat on like she had been trying to leave for some time, agreed with her, nodding her head wholeheartedly. 

They both turned to look at Chancy as she paused by the counter with a faint smile of anticipation. It was always a roll of the dice which side of Delta you would get, but that evening was a good day, because they exchanged greetings and Chancy was invited into the story of the new chair that had started out as fifty dollars and became one hundred once it was destined for Graceland. 

“One hundred dollars, my ass! I said, it’s for me, not Elvis and we both of us have enough sense not to waste another fifty dollars on some piece of-” 

The phone rang on the wall by where Delta was sitting at the breakfast bar and she snatched it up, listened for a minute, and then nodded to her. 

“Elvis said to go ahead and go on up.” 

Chancy had to temper her speed as she moved through the kitchen, heading towards the back stairs.

“I’m sorry you didn’t get your chair,” she shrugged, stepping onto the first tread. 

“Oh honey, I got the chair, and a little table to boot. Soon’s I told ‘em that I’d go home and say what a rat-infested flea-ridden store they had and how we ain’t never gonna shop there again, we got the friends and family discount too.” 

“Well, they’ll know better than to mess with you next time, Mrs Biggs. I might need to get some tips from you for when I have to negotiate with my suppliers.” 

As she was climbing the stairs, she heard Delta say: 

“Honey, I don’t think you need any help from anybody trying to get anything.” 

Her foot momentarily faltered as her body wanted her to stop and march back down, but her brain won out just barely and forced her to continue her climb. By the time she had opened and closed all the doors that marked her journey, she was pretty sure she had knocked her case into her left shin enough times to leave a bruise, and she paused just inside Elvis’ office to run a finger under each eye to catch the slowly dripping mascara. She tapped on the door and waited to hear a low murmur of assent before she pushed the slightly ajar door open. 

Elvis was sitting on his enormous bed with the newspaper laid out before him, apparently deeply engrossed in it, though she knew he had to have been watching the monitors at least a couple of minutes ago to know that she had arrived. 

“Oh no! I think there’s been some mistake!” she lisped in a high voice. “The man at the reception desk said that this was my room.” She whirled around, wide-eyed, in the doorway. “This is room 385631.6 and half, right?” 

Elvis smirked, his lips and cheekbones all curves as his eyes narrowed. His voice was a little thick like his tongue was still waking up.  

“Damn, they must’ve double booked the rooms again, and, you know, I heard the clerk say that they were full up, no vacancies.” He clenched his jaw and shook his head like he was genuinely upset and disappointed in the ‘hotel’. 

“Right,” she responded. “I guess that’ll be because of the convention?” 

He nodded, rising slowly and stepping closer to her, his fingertips tickling her wrist. 

“Uh huh, right, the, uh, One-eyed Albino Python Lovers of America convention,” he nodded, turning away as he almost broke. 

“Oh, yeah, that’s a popular one,” she murmured, hearing him snort over his shoulder, and fighting to keep her face straight. 

“Well,” he sighed with a sense of inevitability, turning back to her. “I guess there’s only one thing for it.” He shrugged with his whole body, throwing up his arms. “We’ll just have to share the room.” 

“That seems like that’s all there is to it,” she agreed in her ditsy high voice.

“You sure your boyfriend won’t mind, uh, Miss…?”

“Tallulah-Wanda, and I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“You don’t, huh. Well, I guess I’m just fixing problems all over the place tonight.” He pulled her into a clinch worthy of one of his movies, dipping her down so that she dropped her cases and grabbed his shoulders for safety. They broke apart and smiled breathlessly at each other for a minute. 

“One-eyed Albino Python Lovers,” she muttered, slapping his shoulder. He smirked and pulled her back up. 

“What? I’m telling ya, Tallulah baby, it’s a real group.”

“Uh huh, and I bet you’ve met quite a few members.” 

“I meet a lot of people,” he replied evasively. He grabbed her jaw and kissed her hard on the mouth. “How was your day?” 

She paused, surprised by the question. “Uh, it was fine, thank you for asking. How was yours?” 

“Honey, I woke up less than two hours ago,” he pointed out, with a wry lift of his eyebrow. 

“Right, right, I’m in the Elvis time zone now. Gotta adjust my clock accordingly. How was your breakfast?” He rolled his eyes and tugged her towards him, cradling the back of her head as he kissed her. 

“That’s enough of that,” he murmured, though he didn’t elaborate on what ‘that’ was, just steered her around and nudged her backwards towards the bed. “Gotta unwrap my present here.” He tugged on her pale pink pussycat bow, teasing the ends out from where they were tucked into her low scooped waistcoat and pulling the loose knot free. 

“You want me to give you my scarf?” she murmured, keeping her voice low to hide how affected she was. “Hmm, that’s a twist.” 

The corner of his mouth lifted slightly, but he seemed absorbed in his task, letting her silky scarf flutter off to the side as he studied her. She returned the favour, noting how fair his lashes looked in the daylight. His face was fuller, maybe because he hadn’t been well, but his colour was better than when she had last seen him at her house. 

Biting his lip slightly, he unbuttoned her waistcoat, but there was nothing seductive or gentle about his movements. She genuinely felt like a gift given to an overexcited six year old. The waistcoat went in the other direction to her scarf, quickly followed by her heels. 

“I’ll show you where your things are,” he said, pulling away and holding out a hand. She had to tamp down a smile as she let him lead her, padding behind him in her stockinged feet. 

That morning, she had deliberately dressed up in her most businesslike outfit, stopping just short of wearing pants, because she knew he wouldn’t like it. Not to antagonise him exactly, but there had definitely been something pointed in her choice. Some barbed reminder that she was a whole person with a successful, fulfilling life that went on out of his sight line. She wasn’t one of the no doubt many girls around the country just waiting for his call, their life outside of him just filler that happened between their time with him. 

In the ‘guest’ dressing room off his office, he showed her the row of plastic covered outfits that he had bought her on tour as if they had been there ever since he returned and not, as was more likely, hastily moved in that day after the last girl had left. 

“You don’t like what I’m wearing?” she asked as he hovered in the doorway. He shifted uncomfortably and opened his mouth, clearly still formulating his reply. “I’m teasing you. Go on now, let me change.”

“Oughta tan your hide,” he muttered, giving her a sideways look as he retreated from the door. “Don’t change your hair.” 

“Saying please don’t hurt you know!” she called out the door. 

“I know!” he hollered back from presumably the bedroom. 

In the small dusky pink dressing room, Chancy deliberately did not touch any drawers, no matter how painfully her curiosity niggled at her. She tried to be as dispassionate as she would be in a communal dressing room, which, essentially, it was. She made sure not to make a mess and folded her own clothes neatly, putting them back into her case. 

There were a few toiletries sitting on top of the dressing table and she leant over them in order to apply more make up to her eyes, appreciating the good lighting. When she had finished, she checked that she had not left a trace and came back out into the office. 

Elvis was sat at his desk with Joe standing over him and murmuring into his ear, his arms spanning the desk and the back of Elvis’ chair. His broad back blocked Elvis from her view. The body language could not have been clearer. 

Without stopping, she tiptoed past them towards the bedroom, still holding her bags. 

“Hey, what are you doing?” Elvis snapped over the top of Joe’s low mumbling. Chancy glanced over her shoulder almost guiltily. 

“Going in there? I got changed like you said.” Elvis visibly relaxed, his face smoothing and shoulders dropping. 

“I thought you were ducking out on me. What you got your bags there for?” 

“I didn’t want to leave all my things lying about. I’m trying to change my messy ways, you know.” He shook his head and waved his hand back towards the dressing room. 

“No, go ahead and put everything in there, honey, that’s yours.” She hesitated, but Joe had already resumed his whispering and Elvis was frowning at the console of his desk with its screen and knobs and switches. So, she tucked her cases inside the door of the dressing room and speed-walked past them back into the bedroom. 

The curtains were closed and, though the lamps were lit, the room still felt dark to Chancy. This was not helped by the enormous bed that was clad in black every way from the headboard to the bedcovers. She perched on it primly, her feet barely skimming the floor. She didn’t like that, being reminded that she was short. It made her feel like the room was patting her on the head somehow. 

Instead, she pushed off the bed and scanned the shelves of the units, smiling a little at the framed photos of a blond little girl and running her finger over the ornaments, some of them clearly from fans. 

There were a few records scattered around the record player, their labels a mess of scrawled handwriting that revealed them to be demos. And there were books, piles and piles of books with fuzzy, slightly scary titles like ‘The search for…’, ‘A Study of…’, ‘Explore the world of…’ 

One caught her eye, a small, slim volume with exotic gold patterns etched into the worn covers. She glanced up at the door before she opened it to the foreword. It was Sufi poetry translated from the original Persian. Chancy pressed her fingers to the pages in wonder, trying to make it fit into the already complex and contradictory picture of Elvis she held in her mind.

The man himself burst into the room, slamming the door shut behind him, but he stopped short when he saw her standing by the shelves as if he had forgotten she was in there. She could see him biting down and breathing hard, his nostrils flaring, like he was trying to change gears while still accelerating.

She didn’t say anything, looking back down at the book and reading the first poem silently to herself, giving him time to collect himself without being observed, to leave without feeling obligated or ask her to leave. She felt him as he drew close to her, his chest brushing her shoulder. 

“It’s good, you should borrow it when I’m done,” he said quietly, calmly. She smiled as she took her hand away from the page and turned towards him.

“What’s it about?”

“I- I can’t exactly say,” he shrugged. “It makes me feel like words and ideas, even sermons and laws, they’re just getting in the way and confusing people, distracting them from the truth and the real essence of God, you know. I-I-I ain’t saying it right, but the guys in this book, they pull back the curtain, you know, and you feel like you’ve caught a glimpse of something, just for a moment, that’s greater and truer than anything else.” 

Chancy tilted her head, letting that sink in.

“I do think I’d like to read it after you, thank you.” He leant past her and picked it up.

“Here, take it, honey. I can get another. Ignore the scribbling though, sometimes I just gotta work things out in my head. Try and get things straight, you know.”

“No, Elvis, I can’t, not if you’re enjoying it! I can wait until you’re done.”

“Baby, I want you to. Like I said, I can get another. And we can talk about it when you’re done reading it. I don’t- I don’t have no one I can discuss these things with. They all just get this damn pie-eyed look on their faces like ole Elvis’s gone nuts and they don’t know who to call to fix it.” He crossed his eyes and pulled a silly face while he pushed the book into her chest until she took hold of it. 

“That’s dumb,” she murmured, cradling the book to her chest. “Everyone knows you already went crazy years ago.”

“Yeah, well whose fault was that,” he returned, gritting his teeth and pushing his forehead against hers, smushing the tip of her nose. She wrapped her arms around his waist and drew him closer, simultaneously loving and resenting the almost painful wave of relief that rolled over her as she nestled into his arms and felt his soft lips brush against hers. The big sigh he let out as he squeezed her in tighter at least let her know that she wasn’t alone in this comfort trap. 

“I missed this silly little face,” he murmured, one hand gripping her jaw playfully but gently. 

“Really? This one?” She crossed her eyes and scrunched up her nose, tightening her lips so that it looked like she had buck teeth. 

In response, he wrapped one big hand over her face and put a little pressure into it, nudging her backwards. She went with it, trusting him not to have her tumbling on her butt down the stairs. The side of the bed pressed into the back of her legs and she grabbed him by the biceps to stop herself from falling backwards. 

“You missed me too, right?” he almost whispered, leaning down to kiss her again. “Tell me you missed me, Cha Cha.” 

Chancy heard her own voice as if it came from far away, muffled and almost whiny with longing. 

“I missed you, Elvis.” She continued to kiss him even as he turned his head slightly. She could feel his cheek bunch beneath her lips as he smiled, enjoying her affection. “I missed you, I missed you.” She felt his faint stubble grazed against her lips as she let them trail down his cheek and under his jaw. He was bent slightly at the knees so that she could reach, rubbing his thumb around in little circles on her back. Her awareness narrowed to only those points of sensation, the thumb circles on her back, the tingle on her lips, the warmth down her front. 

The phone started trilling. They both looked at it blankly for a second, before Elvis straightened and sighed, going to answer. 

Whatever was being said on the other end of the line irritated Elvis, he mumbled one word answers until he slammed the receiver back onto the hook. 

Without a word, he disappeared into his bathroom and left her yet again wandering around his room, running her fingers over his belongings and trying to pretend that she belonged there. She opened her new book at a random page and let her eyes trip across the words:

“That’s how you came here, like a star,

Without a name…”

She had no idea what it meant, but it sounded beautiful. She murmured it under her breath, finishing with a sharp inhale as Elvis stormed back out of his bathroom clad in a long leather coat, gloves and carrying a police flashlight. 

“C’mon, we’re getting out of here.” 

Billy was waiting at the bottom of the kitchen stairs, hands shoved into his jeans pockets. He grinned, reflecting Elvis’ smirk as they converged in the kitchen. 

“They fell for it, huh?” Elvis remarked, knocking Billy’s shoulder with his knuckles. 

“Uh huh, I told ‘em we’d meet ‘em on up ahead.” “Joe bitchin’ and whining about it, I bet,” Elvis remarked gleefully, heading towards the back door with Billy beside him. Chancy trailed them, wondering what the hell was going on. 

The wall of wet heat hit as soon as they stepped outside and Chancy shook her head as she stared at Elvis’ broad back wrapped in black leather even as she was peeling tendrils of her hair away from her damp neck and face. 

Elvis was too busy crowing over his ability to fool everyone to notice the temperature. He and Billy were joking and laughing about it as they passed the car port and continued on down towards the back gate near where Chancy had parked her car. On the road was a white Cadillac coupe with an old, black truck behind it. 

Billy tossed some keys to Elvis, who was still laughing as he got into the truck, but Billy’s smile faded as he turned away and he looked at Chancy with something close to reproach. She couldn’t think why he would be mad with her or blame her when she had no idea what was going on. He was the one going along with whatever crazy plan Elvis had come up with. 

“Is anyone going to tell me what’s going on?” she asked nobody in particular. 

“Shh, we’re being sneaky!” Elvis whispered in an Elmer Fudd voice, leaning out the window. “C’mon, Cha Cha, get in!”  

She looked to Billy again, hoping for something that made more sense, but he had already climbed into the Cadillac and the back gate was opening. Elvis beckoned her and she hurriedly circled the truck and jumped in. 

As they pulled out into the narrow road that ran down the side of the church next door, Elvis accelerated slightly and gave the Cadillac in front a little nudge on the bumper, grinning so wide that his dimples made an appearance. 

“Uh, shouldn’t you have your lights on?” Chancy asked, goosebumps of anticipation nonetheless breaking out over her arms as she caught his infectious excitement. 

“Now that wouldn’t be very sneaky of little old us, would it.”

“Billy’s got his on.”

“Exactly!” 

Ahead of them, Billy pulled out onto the highway and faintly they could hear a few people shouting. Elvis waited, engine idling with his lights off. Chancy watched him expectantly as he tapped his thumbs on the top of the steering wheel, humming quietly under his breath. He seemed to become aware of her eyes and glanced towards her, eyes narrow and cheekbones brimming with mirth. 

“Being bad feels good, don’t it?” 

“It might, if I knew what we were doing.” He didn’t reply, just flew out onto the highway, switching on his lights at the last minute and swerving around the oncoming traffic. 

Eyes on the rear view mirror, he murmured, “I bet they’re shitting a brick right about now, man. Serves ‘em right, serves ‘em right. I tell you, boy…” 

“So we’re not going to the recording studio?” Chancy asked, mainly to remind him that she was in the car too and he didn’t need to talk to himself. 

“You catch on fast, don’t you,” he remarked, shooting her a sideways look. “Baby, what are you doing all the way over there?” He reached blindly across the bench seat and clamped a hand on her thigh, trying to drag her closer to him. She made a series of unladylike noises as she left behind half of the skin from the back of thighs on the warm leather. 

“Where are we going then?” she inquired, once she was flush against him, her forearm resting on his thigh and her cheek stuck to his coat. 

“Well…” He tailed off. “Where would you like to go?” She bit down on her lip as he made himself sound very magnanimous and not at all like he hadn’t thought his great escape plan all the way through.

“I haven’t had anything to eat since lunch,” she reasoned. “Maybe we could-” He took a sharp turn that almost sent her sprawling. “Or maybe we could not die, Elvis, how about that?!”

He snorted and glanced at her with his eyebrow quirked playfully. She swatted at him, because he knew exactly what to do to take the heat out of her irritation, leaving her with just the intellectual understanding that she should feel annoyed. 

“Poor widdle Cha Cha, all moody and mad cos she’s hungry,” he murmured in that damn baby voice again. She was about to swat him a little harder when he did a double take out of his side window. “Hey, you know, I ran out of gas there one time.”

“Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah, back when I was starting out. It was one of the first times it got really crazy, boy. The cops had to come out and everything. It was wild.”

“Uh huh, getting a ride in the back of a police car to the gas station is not something you ever forget. Especially after I got back and some girl called me your whore.”

Chancy watched his face as his brain worked overtime, recalling the little details that he usually airbrushed from the patter he gave his dates as he took them on a personal tour of his home town, like who else had been there.

“They called you a whore?” he echoed finally, focusing on the detail where he had no culpability. “I didn't know that.”

“Well, it wasn't something I would've wanted to repeat.” 

It had been the first time she had been the victim of jealous, spiteful resentment, but not nearly the last. She shook her head like she could dislodge the echoes of embarrassment, hurt and outrage she had felt. 

“Besides, you didn’t even remember I was there!” She smacked his leg and turned away slightly, playing at being mad. 

“Honey, I did! I-I remember, I was just testing you!” 

“Uh huh,” she murmured. “Well, I guess I passed.” 

“With flying colours,” He hit her with a poorly aimed kiss on the ear as he steered the truck into a parking lot. Chancy glanced around and realised he had pulled into Dairy Queen. 

“You do take me to the fanciest places,” she teased, already moving to climb out. 

“Well, I only know of two ways to get you out of this mood you’re in,” he returned with irritating insight. “One’s food and the other… Well, we’re in public, honey, you know.” She felt so much better about the shiver she had to fight back when she saw that, despite the naughty look on his face, he had gone pink. 

“You are terrible,” she informed him. “Hey, where are you going?” He paused as he pushed open his door.

“There’s only one way out,” he replied, looking bemused. 

“You can’t go in there!” she exclaimed, then wanted to rewind time and roll her tongue back in, because the one way to guarantee Elvis would do something was to tell him that he couldn’t. “Baby, you don’t have any of the guys with you. It’s not safe.” 

“It’s late, Cha Cha, I’m not letting you go in there by yourself,” he returned. Then, she witnessed the exact same expression of regret cover his face that must have shone from hers moments before. Because telling her that she wasn’t allowed to do something was like firing a starting pistol. 

“It’s not exactly Times Square.”

“I don’t give a damn. Cha Cha, honey, you got all kinds of characters out there now, crazy sonsofbitches and losers strung out on all these fucking drugs they’re pushing on the streets. Baby- Baby, you don’t understand because you don’t know what it’s really like.” She bristled at the condescending tone and folded her arms over her grumbling stomach. 

“Well, then it’s not safe for either of us.” 

After ten minutes of silent sulking and hunger, they came to a compromise. Chancy would go in and order the food, and Elvis would park as close as possible with his gun ready just in case. 

As silly as she knew all that was, Chancy still felt tingles of apprehension as she pulled on the metal bar and opened the door.

At that time of the evening, the place was full of teenagers hanging out and families grabbing a treat on the way home from the movies. None of them really spared her a look apart from a few pleasant smiles as she made her way to the counter. 

Not long later, she was juggling a sack and two milkshakes and stopped to thank a man who had jumped up to hold the door for her. He smiled back, nodding at her chest rather than her face. 

Turning towards the truck, she let out a little gasp as she saw a small knot of people standing by the driver’s door. Her heart hammering, she glanced towards the phone booth at the front of the parking lot, wondering if she would have to make a call to Graceland to get someone out to help. 

As she drew closer, she saw that it was just an older couple and their children. As long as they made a getaway before they attracted any more attention they would be okay. 

When she climbed in the cab, Elvis was signing a scrap of paper, what looked like a receipt, and he handed it over, ruffling the young son on the head. Chancy kept her head down so as not to attract notice. The only problem was that the family did not seem satisfied with the autograph and small talk and lingered, forcing Elvis to say that they had to leave. They even took a few steps forward as he backed out, like they were going to follow them on foot. 

“Just can’t stay out of trouble for a minute, can you,” she remarked, handing him his milkshake. 

“Well, you were gone so damn long,” he complained, spilling a little of the shake on his pants as he tried to negotiate the road. “Goddamn it! She quickly retrieved the paper cup before it was thrown, possibly at her. He was still swearing as he pulled into a rest area, the frosty drink slowly trickling into uncomfortable places. 

Seeing his mood souring, she grabbed a napkin from the sack but hid it at her side. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll get it,” she exclaimed brightly, ducking her head down towards his lap. 

“Chancy, no!” His voice went impossibly high, breathless and panicked. 

She burst out laughing, she couldn’t help it, and tossed the napkin at him as she collapsed against the back of the seat, gasping and giggling, wiping her eyes. She tried to get herself under control as he irritably wiped at his pants with the napkin, muttering under his breath, but every time she looked at him, all kitted out in his flashy badass outfit, she kept hearing his panicked protest like he was a sweet virgin being propositioned by an over amorous date. 

“Don’t see what’s so goddamn funny,” he snapped. “My fucking pants are ruined.”

“I’m sorry,” she replied, her voice quivering very slightly as she bit on the inside of her cheek. “I…” She started laughing again and he smacked the steering wheel and started the engine, shaking his head. “No, baby, no, I’m sorry!” She lifted her milkshake and tipped it slightly as if she was going to dump the whole thing in her own lap. “Look, you give me the word and we’ll match. Want me to?” 

A fast diesel truck rattling by startled her and she jerked slightly, causing a large drop to splat onto her bare leg. 

“Damn, that’s cold!” she hissed. His eyes twinkled and a slow smile crept across his face. She realised that there was a very real possibility that he was about to knock the cup over her and almost resigned herself to it. 

“You’re crazy, you know that,” he remarked, before very slowly and deliberately leaning down and licking the milkshake from her thigh. He punctuated that by opening his mouth and pretending to take a bite of her, his teeth leaving a faint imprint in her pale skin under the light of the cab. Holding her breath, Chancy now understood how fish felt drowning on dry land.

They ate their food at the rest stop without much chat. Elvis was still mad at her for laughing at him. It was always a sore point for him, and she sensed that he was embarrassed by his unfiltered reaction to the idea of her going down on him in public. He always loved to give off the impression that he was unflappable, that there was no boundary that he would not push and no impulse he would not indulge, but that wasn’t true. Not really.  

Licking the salt from her fingers, she leant up and kissed his cheek as he chewed the last of his third burger. He didn’t reciprocate, but nor did he move away, just looked out the window at the shadowy brush. She stuffed the wrappers into the empty sack and slid a little closer to him, her bent knees knocking into his thigh. 

Rising on her knees, she nudged her nose into the hair at his temple, pressing butterfly kisses into his skin, catching her lip on the arm of his sunglasses. His fingers tapped on the ledge of his open window, almost like she was keeping him from a more pressing appointment, and she wondered if his mood had sunk too low to be recovered. She started to draw back, but the firm line of his arm just behind her shoulders stopped her retreat. 

She studied him, looking down from his turned cheek to where the tendon in his neck was just visible above his turned-up collar as he craned his head away from her. Almost tentatively, she pressed her lips against it, feeling his pulse pounding beneath the salty skin. She lapped at it with tiny kitten licks until he jerked away, trying to hide his smile.  

Leaning forward, he started the engine and pulled back out onto the road, executing a neat u-turn so that they were heading north. 

“Where are we going now?”

“Gotta get you back to the nuthouse before they send out the guys with straitjackets,” he replied, shooting her a sly grin. 

“Uh huh, I’m sure it’d be me they were looking for,” she replied, settling herself down at his side. He just kept smiling, dropping his hand into her lap and entwining their fingers. That didn’t last long, because he had to keep twiddling the dial of the radio every time the deejay started talking. 

“Wasn’t that George?” she asked, as he abruptly twisted the knob again, muttering a curse word. “I don’t care who it was,” he snapped. “Don’t talk over the goddamn song. What’s the point of them even playing songs if they’re gonna-” He let out some high pitched gibberish that sounded like an irate chipmunk after sucking helium. 

“So, where’s next on the famous Elvis’ hometown tour?” “Aw, honey, there’s no…” He didn’t even bother finishing his lie. “There ain’t no point showing you, you know more about it than I do. I ever end up writing that book about my life, you’ll be there…’No, Elvis, it didn’t happen like that, I was there.’” She shook her head at his usual high-pitched impression of her. 

“The two of us in rocking chairs, me trying to edit every story,” she added. “In my head, you’re old when you’re writing this life story.”

She felt her cheeks heat as she had basically admitted that she pictured them together when they were old. That was giving away too much and also trying to take too little. 

If he noticed her embarrassment or thought that the idea of them being together when they were old was far-fetched, he didn’t show it, huffing a laugh as he guided them back through more familiar streets. “We’re going back? So soon?” She thought of all the people back at the house, likely some annoyed employees and some tense phone calls to be made. She wondered if they would get to sneak out like this again during her stay, and considered that plans would probably be put in place to stop that happening. 

“Well,” he bounced a closed fist against the inside of the truck door. “I gotta change my damn pants and… It seems like you might still be in a bad mood, honey. I think it might be time to try the second thing.”

Tag lIst: @richardslady121, @dkayfixates, @fallinlovewithurlove, @notstefaniepresley, @heartbrake-hotel , @freudianslumber , @bbrtt777, @18lkpeters , @prompted-wordsmith, @literally-just-elvis-fics , @eliseinmemphis @lookingforrainbows , @stylespresleyhearted , @amydarcimarie , @returntopresley, @savedrebelcreation, @lettersfromvenus , @littlehoneyposts, @joshuntildawn13, @i-r-i-n-a-a, @from-memphis-with-love, @ellie-24, @be-my-ally, @vintageshanny

[starboy-sirius]

without touching his skin (how can i be guilty as sin?)

jegulus modern au (with a sprinkle of wolfstar) based off this post by @starchaserdreams because i saw it and couldn't not write it (hope that's okay!!) 7642 words | read it on ao3 here! |

✧˖*°࿐

James laughs at his best friend Sirius, who is staring at his phone in horror, his eyes wide and unblinking as he looks at the text James just sent from his phone. His mouth is open and he looks ridiculous. He’s likely to catch flies at this rate and James can’t help but cackle at his shocked face. 

It’s no secret that Sirius has been crushing on their friend Remus for the past year, following him around with puppy eyes and hanging off his every word. James has told him time and time again to make his move, that Remus won’t be horrible to him if he confesses because when has Remus ever been horrible to either of them? Never. So he wouldn’t so much as hurt a hair on Sirius’ head if the boy confessed. 

James also has it on good authority that Remus has fancied Sirius for nearly two years now, so he isn’t setting Sirius up for failure by urging him to confess. Of course, he’s sworn to secrecy by both of them so it’s not like he can spill either of their secrets to the other, even if it would help things along immensely. But Sirius being Sirius wouldn’t stop whining about how he wishes he could just confess already. 

James was only trying to make it easier for him.

So it has come to this. James grabbed Sirius’ phone before he could realise what he was doing, and sent Remus a text saying hey can we talk? I need to tell you something. It’s genius if you ask James because he’s done half the work for him. Making the initial move is always the most nerve wracking and James has gotten that out of Sirius’ way. 

Honestly, James isn’t sure why Sirius isn’t on his knees thanking him. Where’s the excitement? Usually James would be engulfed in a hug by now. 

“James, what the fuck?” Sirius whispers, eyes glued to his phone at the very unsendable text message. 

“It’s a good thing, mate! Now you just have to confess and boom! Dating,” James grins, patting Sirius’ thigh and leaning back into the beanbag he’s currently sitting in with an air of victory to him. 

Finally, Sirius lifts his eyes from the phone and tosses it across the room. He serves James a deadly stare. “James.”

Feeling apprehension dance along his spine, James sits up straighter. Sirius doesn’t say anything else, only stares at James with a look that gets more intense the longer it goes on. James fidgets uncomfortably. “Um, Sirius? You okay there, bud?”

“James,” Sirius repeats unblinkingly. “Because I love you, I am going to give you a ten second head start, but if you don’t run right now I am going to kill you.”

Alarmed, James jolts in the beanbag and tenses his legs as his flight mode activates. He wavers, mainly because he’s unsure as to whether Sirius is joking or not, but he gets ready just in case. “Really? I was only trying to help you out!”

“Really,” Sirius confirms gravely. “Ready? Countdown starts now.”

“Wait, Sirius—”

“Ten—”

“I really don’t think this is nece—”

“Nine—”

“I was only help—”

“Eight—”

“Fuck, okay,” James scrambles upwards and dashes out of Sirius’ bedroom. 

The positive to this situation is that Sirius’ house is fucking enormous. He’s a little on the richer side, which isn’t a huge shock because James is fairly wealthy himself, but Sirius moved into this place with his younger brother and his eldest cousin because his parents were verbally and physically abusing them. His cousin took them in immediately and Sirius helped buy them this place with the money that was left to him by a relative. 

The house, if one could call it that, is ornately decorated and very tasteful. It is more of a manor, James thinks as he rushes up a double staircase and onto the next floor’s landing. There are many paintings hung on the wall, some of them James knows were painted by Regulus, Sirius’ younger brother, and some are the works of Sirius’ niece, who also lives with them. Even the toddler’s paintings are encased in the same intricate, golden frames as some of the priceless antique ones and it makes James smile, even as he’s racing for his life. 

He can’t hear Sirius counting anymore but he knows that the boy must have stopped by now and is on the hunt for him. Honestly, James thinks he’s being a little dramatic but that’s an average day for Sirius, and so James thanks his lucky stars that Sirius hasn’t decided to go truly overboard. This is actually quite mild for him. 

A sudden bang from downstairs has James panicking and diving into the first door he comes across. It’s steamy when he first enters, a thick haze of heat hitting him in the face and James tries not to choke on the sudden onslaught. The smell is delicious, however, and James finds himself moving further into the room as his nose leads him to the pleasant scent. As he moves further into the ridiculously large room, James identifies that it smells of lavender, bergamot and pine. 

He wishes he could bottle it and spray it on his pillow so that he could get a guaranteed night of good sleep, because holy fuck does he want to ingest this smell right now. 

The sound of rushing water vaguely registers in his mind because suddenly it ceases, James now coming to the dawning realisation that the room he’s in is a bathroom and that there is definitely someone in here with him. Someone who was showering not seconds ago. Which means that whoever is in the shower-tub combo is probably about to step out of it. Naked. The person in the shower is going to step out of it dripping wet and completely naked. 

It could be Andromeda, Sirius’ cousin, or her husband Ted, or Regulus, Sirius’ brother. James doesn’t know which option is worse, they’re all awful for different reasons. Ah yes, a dripping wet, naked Regulus, how awful indeed, his brain supplies and James feels his skin flush. 

Listen, okay. James has known Sirius since they were eleven and met at some fancy, rich boarding school that all their ancestors had apparently gone to, which meant they had to as well. So he’s known him for quite a while, given that James is now twenty-one and at another prestigious university that their ancestors also went to. This means that he’s known Regulus for that time as a result of his unbreakably close friendship with Sirius. 

At first, James had thought Regulus was adorable with his cherub cheeks and his little curls. He looked like a child that would be modelling for kids clothing brands, but when he opened his mouth? Goddamn, he was such a little shit. He’d taken one look at James and spat the most unhinged insults James had ever heard. At age ten, no less! It had knocked James down a peg initially, but truthfully? James had become a little enamoured with Sirius’ spiteful younger brother. 

Sirius had apologised profusely to James, worrying that his little brother had put him off being best friends. He rushed to explain that it was a result of the way they’d been raised, which had then prompted the conversation about their parents which had James equally furious as he was heartbroken. James promised him that he had nothing to worry about, that he liked Regulus and his biting comments. You’re not getting rid of me that easily, James told him before crushing him in a tight hug.

So James had grown up with Sirius and therefore Regulus, and he’s watched the younger boy blossom in his own ways. He’d never hung out with them much at boarding school, having his own group of equally sarcastic and sharp-minded friends who looked at James like he was prey they could hunt and destroy. Despite their less than friendly demeanors, James always tried to talk to them when he could, wanting to get on with them because he cared for Regulus and they were his best friends. Openly, his favourite was Pandora, who was always the most receptive to him. Secretly, his second favourite was Barty because the boy had a wicked sense of humour when it wasn’t aimed at James with his incessant need to take the piss out of him. 

Regulus and his friends had followed in their footsteps and gone to the same university, which James knows Sirius was secretly happy about because it meant that he could spend more time with him before they got jobs and lives of their own. A part of James was happy too but he hadn’t wanted to look into why exactly that was. 

Of course, James knew deep down why exactly it was. 

Watching Regulus grow up from someone he classified as ‘Sirius’ little brother’ to Regulus, a young man who had his own name, his own personality, dreams and desires. A young man whom James could no longer deny to himself that he found effortlessly attractive. 

Which left James with the problem he has now: fancying Regulus. James is well aware that Regulus is his own person, but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s still Sirius’ brother, and James knows that Sirius would throw the hissy fit to end all hissy fits if James reveals that he fancies him. So James pines silently for the boy who throws insults at him like its second nature, like it’s as easy as breathing. It only makes James like him all the more, because the majority of people in James’ life trip over themselves to please him, but not Regulus. Regulus would rather set his hair on fire than be nice to James, he knows. 

Speaking of his hair, goddamn. 

Still curly as ever, only it’s longer now and it wafts elegantly around the nape of his neck, some parts of it wavier than curly. It looks like a halo, James thinks. He’s an angel. A fire spitting angel, which James thinks is the best kind. He’s elegant and lean and perfect, his skin like a doll’s and his lips pouty and shaped like Cupid’s arrow. James would do anything to kiss him. 

But James is a gentleman and he will not try anything on Regulus because he is Sirius’ brother, and he knows it would only complicate things between everyone. He also has no idea whether Regulus even likes him like that, everything seems to point to the negative considering they can’t have a conversation with Regulus insulting him at every opportunity. James thinks he’s rather insane to enjoy the way Regulus’ words cut into him, and he knows that just because he’s apparently gone mad doesn’t mean Regulus has. It doesn’t mean Regulus enjoys their verbal sparring as James does. 

James is a gentleman. He isn’t going to attempt anything with Regulus, end of story. 

He wishes he could remember that as a creamy, pale leg appears from behind the shower curtain and his brain completely short circuits. As the leg touches the ground an equally creamy and pale arm darts out to grab at the forest green towel hanging up on the wall, and then his entire body is out and James only just misses being flashed as the towel is brought up over the man’s crotch. 

Regulus’ crotch, because that is Regulus who has just gotten out of the shower. Regulus, who was naked a moment ago. Who is still naked now technically. He hasn’t even wrapped the towel around himself yet, is only holding it over his crotch and James feels like he’s going to faint. He's so lightheaded. He wants to believe it’s the steam but he can’t bring himself to pretend that it’s not all that exposed skin in front of him. 

Regulus hasn’t noticed he’s there yet as he brings the towel up to his face to wipe the water from his eyes. His skin is tinged pink from the heat of the water and James briefly wonders what it would be like to mark that skin, to leave it mottled with purples and reds and teeth marks. He grows hotter at every passing thought. 

He’s broken from his reverie when Regulus attempts to bring the towel up to his hair to dry the edges briefly. James knows that he only does it a little because the towel is too heavy on his curls and usually he uses an old t-shirt of Sirius’ that he stole, but all this information flies out of the window with what’s left of his melting brain as Regulus raises the towel high enough that it threatens to expose him. 

James lets out a rather embarrassing, strangled squeak at the prospect and is met with a frozen Regulus, who pauses and locks eyes with him, the steely grey going wide before narrowing playfully. He brings the towel down slowly, far too slowly for someone who is naked and vulnerable and naked, James thinks. 

Regulus wraps the towel around his waist, slinging it so low on his hips that James thinks he’s going to go into cardiac arrest, and leans back against the wall behind him. He smirks at James as he runs a head through his curls. Beads of water drip from his hair, down his neck and tantalisingly down his torso, traversing the divots of his toned abdomen. James follows a single drop from his prominent collarbones, past his pink nipples and down, down, down his lovely stomach. Just as the droplet is falling into the trail of hair underneath his belly button, James is brought back into the present by a teasing cough. 

Snapping his eyes back up to Regulus’ face, he finds that the boy is already looking at him with a single raised eyebrow. James feels his face flush and he prays that he doesn’t look like a tomato. Especially since Regulus is standing there like a Greek god, like someone who would be honoured by a multitude of sculptures that people like James would pay exorbitant amounts of money to stare at. 

“Hi, James,” Regulus purrs, his eyes never leaving James’ face.

“Hi,” James replies faintly, his voice slightly croaky from where it’s mostly been open since Regulus stepped out of the shower. 

Regulus grins like a shark but softens it when his tongue pokes out to wet his bottom lip. James is attached to the movement like a limpet to the side of a ship. “Did you step in here so that you could catch me naked, James?”

“What?! No! Of course not! It was an accident, I swear,” James proclaims, arms waving around like a madman as he tries to remain calm. He can’t believe Regulus caught him in his bathroom, naked from his shower, and is just lounging against the wall with a permanent smirk on his face. 

James feels incredibly out of depth. 

Regulus hums, a delicate hand coming up to trace at his collarbone and play with the water droplets there. He tilts his neck to give himself more access and huffs out a laugh as James’ eyes follow the movement religiously. “That’s a shame.”

James nods, blindly agreeing without really listening, intently focused on the longer finger as it trails back and forth on Regulus’ marble-like skin. James wants to bite it. He snaps back to reality when his brain catches on to what Regulus has said. “Wait, what?”

“You know,” Regulus changes the topic, bringing his hand down to rest at the knot of the towel and James feels like his heart is going to give up on him. And that his dick is going to become very noticeable in his trousers. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you blush this much. What’s gotten you so worked up, James?”

James wants to curse him because he knows what’s gotten him so worked up, the little shit. James was wrong, Regulus is not an angel, he's the devil incarnate and he refuses to stand here and be embarrassed by him. Not long ago were the days where James used to tease him until he was beaming a bright red. James doesn’t like how the tables have turned. 

Distantly, James hears a victorious shout followed by what is definitely Sirius yelling his name like a madman. Regulus’ eyes flicker from James to the bathroom door and the latter realises that it’s the first time Regulus’ eyes have left him since he realised James was in here too. 

James sends him a sheepish smile as he begins to walk himself backward, as if Regulus is a wild animal he needs to keep his eyes on at all times lest he turn his back and allow himself to be attacked. “Well, that’s my cue! Lovely seeing you again, Regulus.”

Regulus’ eyes twinkle as he runs a hand over his wet curls. “Truly a pleasure, James. Try not to make a habit of following me into the bathroom when I’m wet and naked, hm?”

The laugh that forces its way out of James’ mouth is strained and bordering on hysterical as he tries not to trip on his way out. He’s still looking at Regulus, who’s staring at him like he’s a meal he wants to devour, and he can’t even find himself able to speak English. Garbled noises are the only thing that he’s able to come up with and it only makes Regulus’ smirk ever more shark-like. With one last look at the enticing boy in front of him, James fumbles with the door handle and practically sprints out of the bathroom. 

The alluring pull of Regulus’ silver eyes doesn't leave his mind. 

✧˖*°࿐

When James makes it back to Sirius’ bedroom on the floor below, Sirius is right where James left him, only that he’s sprawled out on his bed on his stomach, legs swishing back and forth with one hand twirling his wavy hair. James feels like he’s entered a rom-com. 

“Er, Pads?” He asks, bewildered by the image he’s presented with. The nickname is a long standing one that James can’t even remember the origins for, only that he, Sirius and their two friends Remus and Peter all have corresponding animal nicknames. 

“Prongs!” Sirius bellows as he jumps up and throws himself into James’ arms, his legs wrapping around his waist. 

Huffing at the sudden weight, James pulls away to look at Sirius’ face. “Hey, sexy. Fancy meeting you here.”

Sirius laughs, throwing his head back. When he returns his gaze to James it’s mischievous. “You know I love you, Jamie, but I’m afraid we cannot continue flirting like this. You see, I’m about to be a taken man.”

James almost drops him. “Oh shit, it worked?!”

“Well, almost,” Sirius informs as he unwraps his legs and pulls James to the bed with him. “Just as I was about to come and kill you, he responded saying that he also had something to tell me. I didn’t want to do it over the phone though, so I’ve invited him here. He’s on his way.”

“Fuck yeah!” James shouts and piles on top of Sirius, planting wet kisses all over his face as Sirius laughs and wraps his limbs around him like an octopus. James begins to dig his fingers into Sirius’ sides, delighting in the breathless giggles he lets out. “Hey, I’m just trying to get my fill, alright? My best mate is about to get a boyfriend.”

“James!” Breathless and bordering on hiccups, Sirius manoeuvres James so that they’re laying side to side facing each other. “James, if it all goes wrong I need you to beat Moony up for me.”

“What?! I can’t beat Remus up! Have you seen him angry? He’d kill me!” James exclaims, wrapping an arm around Sirius’ waist. 

“James, you have to! You’re my best friend, it’s basically the law,” Sirius whines, snuggling into the crook of James’ neck. 

Sensing the undertones of the conversation, James quietens down. Amongst all the joking and laughing, James can tell that Sirius is scared to confess his feelings for Remus. He can’t help but find it sweet because he has nothing to worry about, but James isn’t going to spoil that for him. 

“Listen to me, Sirius. You’re going to be okay. Remus isn’t going to hurt you or be mean to you, and even if he miraculously is then we’ll sic Regulus on him, okay?” James strokes a hand through Sirius’ hair, speaking softly. 

Sirius seems to mull this over, humming as he does so, and comes to a positive conclusion. “Oh, that’s brilliant. I mean, Regulus quite likes Remus so it might be a little hard to convince him, but if he sees how upset I am then I’m sure he’ll oblige. Good thinking, Prongs.”

They lay there silently after that, neither of them speaking but rather enjoying the moment they’re sharing in each other’s arms. It took a while for Sirius to get to this stage with James because of the way he was raised. James was always showered with love and affection from his parents, growing into a very physically affectionate person, whereas Sirius was the complete opposite. Love wasn’t given freely if at all in his family home, and the only other person with whom he shared affectionate physical touch was Regulus. Both brothers took a while to get used to James’ love language (one of them, anyway), but Sirius was the first to succumb to his cuddles. 

“Hey,” Sirius breaks the silence. “I’m probably going to talk to Remus in the garden because the flowers he helped plant are blooming and I want to show him. Do you mind staying up here by yourself? You can always go off and find Regulus if you get lonely.”

The thought brings James back to the bathroom and all that creamy skin on display, beckoning him like a blank canvas desperate to be brought to life by some paint. James never thought of himself as an artist but right now he would gladly take to Regulus’ body with his mouth as the brush. 

Holy fuck, he cannot be thinking of Regulus like this when he is literally wrapped around his older brother. Sirius would surely kill him if he knew what James was thinking about. Would hunt him down to the ends of the earth if he knew that James wants to kiss Regulus until his lips are red and swollen, and wants to mark every inch of his body until no one questions that Regulus is his. He wants to have Regulus whining and panting underneath him, or on top of him, or quite literally in any position, in any place and at any time. James isn’t fussy, he’ll take Regulus however he can get him.

Right, totally failed at not thinking filthy thoughts of Regulus when he’s cuddled up to Sirius. Shit. 

“Jamie? Are you alright?”

“Yes!” James nearly shouts and clears his throat when Sirius pulls away to look at him funny. “Perfectly well, thanks Pads.”

Before Sirius can object, there’s a knock at the door followed by the doorbell, and both boys shoot up so quickly that they trip over one another and fall into a heap on the floor. For a moment all they do is lie there as they contemplate getting up. They’re groaning, elbows and knees in places where those should never be, and James is pushing at Sirius’ shoulders in an attempt to make him get up.

“I’ve changed my mind, I can’t do it. You go and answer the door, Jamie. Tell him I’ve fallen ill.”

James rolls his eyes at Sirius who flops onto his back and throws an arm over his face like a fainting maiden. “Really, Sirius? What am I supposed to tell him you’ve come down with in fifteen minutes?”

Sirius contemplates it for a second before he’s snapping his fingers. “I know! We’ll tell him that it’s something you’ve come down with and I’ve caught it because it’s contagious. The whole house is on lockdown. It’s perfect!”

“Pads, that is the worst idea I’ve ever heard. There’s no way Remus will believe that.”

Huffing, Sirius throws his arms over his head and practically melts into the floor. “Well, I don’t see you coming up with any genius ideas!”

“Here’s one,” James responds sarcastically. “How about you go down and answer the door like a normal person? Take him to the garden to look at his flowers and then confess? You know, the original plan?”

Sirius looks at him. “James, that is just ridiculous.”

“Right.”

“Dumbest idea you’ve ever had.”

James watches Sirius as he stares up at the high ceiling, fondness creeping over his features. “Sirius, do you not think you’re going to hurt Remus if you turn him away now? After you’ve said you need to tell him something?”

The doorbell rings a second time.

In a rare moment of vulnerability, Sirius turns pleading eyes on James. “I can’t get the door, James. I can’t.”

James nods encouragingly. “You can, Sirius.”

“I can’t.”

The two of them are interrupted by the sounds of feet padding down the stairs. Unfortunately, James knows the sounds of those feet, and has practically committed them to memory. Regulus doesn’t enter the bedroom but he does call past the door, “I’ll get it, then, despite being a whole floor above. Tossers.”

Sirius and James stare at each other with wide eyes before they’re scrambling to get up, yelling out to Regulus, a cacophony of deep voices shouting up and down the stairs at each other.

“No, we’ll get it!”

“Reggie, you little shit, come back here!” 

They bound down the stairs, practically flying past them as they race to get to the door before Regulus. It’s not like they’re worried Regulus will say or not anything harmful, as Sirius said Regulus is surprisingly fond of Remus and often seeks him out for intellectual conversation, or so he says. It’s just that Regulus is well aware of Sirius’ feelings toward Remus and he makes it his life’s mission to make every possible hint known to man. 

James laughs wildly as they race against Regulus to get to the front door, Sirius cursing at the size of the house as they go, and once they reach the final set of stairs James hops on the bannister to slide down the the bottom.

It’s in vain, no matter how fun it was, because Regulus is already opening the door to a bored looking Remus. His expression changes dramatically when he sees the shit-eating grin on Regulus’ face, along with a panting James who looks wild with his hair sticking up everywhere, and Sirius who is a third of the way down the steps and clinging to the bannister as if he’s going to faint. 

“Er, is this a bad time?” Remus asks, eyes darting between the three of them. He looks faintly amused. 

Sirius shouts, “Yes, this is a terrible time, actually!” 

Just as Regulus croons, “This is a wonderful time, Remus, do come in.”

The younger boy practically drags him in and Sirius’ eyes burn at the contact of their hands. James grins at Remus and brings him into a hug that is quickly reciprocated. “Hey, Moony.”

“James, good to see you,” Remus murmurs before he pulls away to stare at Sirius who still hasn’t moved from the stairs. Remus ignores the snickering from Regulus and walks towards him. “Hi, Sirius.”

Sirius feels as though he’s going to faint. God, Remus is just so pretty. He’s all caramel hair and tan skin, scars from a childhood accident crossing from his eye, over his nose and to the corner of his lip, and Sirius hasn’t seen anyone as beautiful as him. He’s tall, towering over Sirius and making him feel as though he could be devoured in one bite. Sirius would let him. He would let Remus do anything he wanted, even if it meant consuming him whole. 

“Remus,” he breathes, heart pounding as Remus offers his hand out to him and he takes it, letting Remus assist him in walking down the stairs. 

Once he’s at the bottom he has to look up to meet Remus’ eyes, crinkled and warm, and he still hasn’t let go of his hand. In fact, Remus’ thumb is caressing his hand, the touch gentle and loving. Sirius is definitely going to faint. 

“Something you wanted to tell me, sweetheart?” Remus asks quietly, but it doesn’t matter because Regulus still hears it and fails to smother his laughter. 

Before James realises what he’s doing, he’s bringing one hand up to cup the boy’s nape and the other presses firmly against his mouth, cutting any sounds off and muffling them under his large palm. Regulus’ eyes flash with promise and danger, and James feels it dance along his skin like lightning. He doesn’t say anything as they continue to stare at each other, but it’s okay because now Remus and Sirius can continue without Regulus teasing them. 

“Not here,” Sirius sends a glare towards Regulus, who is paying him no mind now that James has his hands on him. “Do you want to go to the garden? Your flowers we planted are blooming. We can talk there.”

Intertwining their fingers, Remus nods with a smile. “I would love to.”

The two of them make their way towards the garden, but Sirius turns back at the last second, looking at James and Regulus who are still staring at one another. “James? You okay, mate?”

Snapping out of the haze, James flies away from Regulus as though he’s been bitten. He has to look at his hand to check that Regulus didn’t actually nip him. The boy sends that infuriatingly hot smirk his way, like he knows every dirty thing that James has ever thought about him, and James can feel himself beginning to sweat. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” James responds, voice abnormally high pitched. “Think I’m going to go and play video games in your room.”

“Alright, mate! Have fun,” Sirius chirps before he’s dragging a sappy looking Remus along with him. 

The silence in the foyer is so loaded that James thinks he could fire a gun with it. He’s instantly brought back to half an hour ago when he was in the bathroom, steam clouding his judgement and Regulus leaning back against the wall, water dripping down his lithe body looking like the figment of James’ wildest dreams and worst intentions. 

It’s clear to him now, he wants to do the dirtiest, most filthy things to Regulus. 

It’s also clear that he can’t do them without possibly ruining his friendship with Sirius, so he nods once to Regulus and attempts to make his way back upstairs. Regulus’ voice stops him like a siren’s call, and James is but a lowly sailor lost at sea and begging for a miracle. “Wouldn’t you rather play with me, James?”

It’s all he can do not to groan aloud. “Regulus,” he strains, voice tight.

“It’s okay,” Regulus purrs, stalking forward like a predator until his front is up against James’ back. The older boy sucks in a sharp breath. “I know you want to, James. Just let go. Give in to me.”

The thought is so tempting. All James wants to do is turn around and press his lips to Regulus’ in a smouldering kiss. He wants to walk him backwards until he’s shoving Regulus harshly into a wall, licking his way into the boy’s mouth and pressing a thigh against his crotch. 

James whines at the thought, and he can’t even bring himself to be embarrassed at the sound when he feels Regulus smirk against his neck. He gasps when Regulus’ lips brush the sensitive skin of his neck, “Regulus.”

“I know you want me, James,” Regulus taunts, his naughty fingers brushing against James’ hips. “Turn around. You can have me.”

It’s the press of his soft lips against his neck that forcibly pulls James from the moment, eyes snapping open so quickly that he doesn't recall ever closing them. He practically jumps away from Regulus, the laughter that bubbles from his throat sounding more hysterical and breathless by the second.

He doesn’t turn around as he shouts, “Have to go! Great to see you again, Reg!”

James makes it two floors up in record speed, diving into Sirius’ double bed and groaning loudly. He ignores the aching problem in his trousers and tries to think of anything else. It’s a while before he can bring himself to unbury himself from the pillows of Sirius’ bed and actually play a game like he said. 

All he can think about is that he would much rather be playing with Regulus and how he won’t allow himself to. 

✧˖*°࿐

It’s the middle of the night, sometime past one o’clock, and James is wide awake.

After he’d spent most of the day playing video games alone, Sirius and Remus had entered his bedroom with matching grins and shiny red lips. James took one look at them before he lept up from the bean bag and pulled them both into a tight hug. He took great pleasure in telling both of them that he knew their feelings were reciprocated and that sitting watching them both pine was beyond painful, but that he’s happy they’re together now. 

Sirius looked incredibly put off that James had kept the secret from him, because they don’t do secrets, which in turn made James feel guilty because he was keeping his secret desires for his brother from him. James tries to reason with himself that he’s keeping it from him for his own good. After all, it isn’t like James is going to act on his feelings, so it’s never going to come to light. James is going to die with this secret. 

Remus looked pleased at the news that James had kept his secret, and James had pouted at him because really, Moony? Do you have such little faith in me? Remus had rolled his eyes and pulled James into his side. 

They spent the rest of the day talking about everything and anything, as they so usually do, but this time it was more geared towards Sirius and Remus and their endless yearning for one another. They played video games and spoke of the literature Remus was currently reading that James took an interest in. He'd recently read Pride and Prejudice and loved it, so Remus was giving him more recommendations every day. 

Once their conversation featured more yawning than words, Sirius had dragged the two of them into his bed and snuggled up facing Remus, pulling James close behind him and sighing in content when both boys wrapped their arms around his middle. Remus rolled his eyes at him before getting comfortable, a small yet happy smile on his face. James had snuggled right in, comforted by the familiar smell of Sirius’ shampoo and Remus’ cologne. 

He thought he’d sleep through the night soundly, but he was wrong. 

So now he lies awake on his back, staring at the ceiling because if he doesn’t then he’ll end up staring at the way Remus and Sirius are curled perfectly into one another like puzzle pieces. At some point, Sirius had turned around and Remus had pulled him tightly into the curve of his body, his face burying into Sirius’ neck almost possessively. 

James hadn’t felt like he was particularly welcome after that. 

He sighs dramatically, very happy for his friends but unable to stop the loneliness from creeping in. Fidgeting, he tries to get comfortable but ultimately he knows that it’s going to take a while for him to fall asleep again, if he ever will. Once he’s had enough of pretending to sleep, James carefully lifts the blanket from his body and sneaks out of the bed, cautious not to wake his two friends up in the process. 

He shuffles from the bed, careful not to stand on the floorboards that squeak or trip over the bean bags he knows they didn’t tidy up. Having been to Sirius’ house since he moved in years ago, treating it as his second home, James knows all the spots in the house that make noises, like the spot just in front of Sirius’ bedroom door, the fifth and eighth step in the staircase up to Regulus’ floor, and the three in a row on the staircase down to the kitchen. James hops over those but miscalculates due to his tiredness and accidentally steps on the third one. 

He winces as he pauses, waiting to hear the telltale sign that someone has woken up, and breathes a sigh of relief when he doesn’t hear anything. The house is still slumbering, as James wishes he was, which he’s thankful for because little Dora is a nightmare when she gets woken up. James completely understands because he, too, gets incredibly grumpy if he’s woken up randomly in the night. Sirius jokes that it’s the only time he isn’t a ray of sunshine. 

Manoeuvring his way quietly down the rest of the stairs, James pads into the kitchen and goes about getting himself a glass of water. He thinks he could find his way around this kitchen even if he was drunk, blindfolded and under some temporary spell of amnesia. 

Leaning against the counter, James admires the way the moon shines in through the windows. It’s full, James having to squint to make sure it is actually a full moon, and it looks ethereal sitting in the dark blue of the midnight sky. Looking up at it, James wonders if the moon ever gets lonely hanging in the sky by itself and he can’t help but feel like the moon sometimes. It’s surrounded by glistening stars and yet it is still alone, shining brightly. James wonders if it has a favourite star.

James sure does. 

A creak that sounds very similar to the one James caused on the stairs earlier interrupts his train of thought. He waits with bated breath to see who he’s going to have to have an awkward midnight conversation with and prays it isn’t Remus or Sirius, because he doesn’t know how to tell them that sharing a bed with them makes him feel lonely. 

He’s saved from that conversation when his favourite star walks through the archway. 

Regulus is as beautiful at night as he is in the day, only now he’s softened by sleep and looking deliciously rumpled. His pale skin gleams in the moonlight making him look like his namesake and James just wants to bask in his glow for the rest of his life.

He’s wearing the smallest shorts known to man, so little as they ride up his creamy thighs that James thinks they look more like underwear. Perhaps they are, but James’ brain has melted from his head and he’s now trying to operate without one. All he can manage to do is stare at Regulus unblinkingly. The boy still hasn’t noticed James as he shuffles in the kitchen, one hand combing through his dark hair, which gives the older boy more time to ogle.  

Besides the tiny shorts, Regulus is wearing a dark green crop top, a colour that too closely resembles his bath towel and James feels his face heat at the memory. His perfectly toned stomach is on display, showcasing his lithe figure and James is so tempted to give in to his desires and mark that skin. He wants to see the indents from his teeth littered all over that body.

But James is a gentleman and a good friend. He will not maul Regulus. He will not even entertain the idea. 

His luck runs out when he takes a rather large gulp of water and Regulus’ eyes snap to him immediately. He doesn’t do anything for a second, other than halt in his tracks with groggy eyes, but then he’s moving towards James with the determination of a snake waiting to strike. James knows that these animals have the patience to wait it out until the very best moment and he has no doubt that Regulus is willing to do just that. 

Eyes shining with promise and pleasure, Regulus stops a few feet in front of James. “Fancy seeing you here.”

James raises an eyebrow, looking more confident than he feels. “We’re in your house. It’s not really much of a surprise, is it?”

Humming, Regulus makes his way to the fridge to pour himself a glass of milk. Setting the carton down on the counter, he reaches up to grab a glass from the cabinet. James watches the way his cropped top rises even more, the hint of a pink nipple teasing him and he places the glass of water down before he does something stupid like drop it. 

He pours the milk into the glass, places the carton back in the fridge and then leans back against the counter, looking at James intensely. They’re further apart now, but the atmosphere in the kitchen is so delicate, so loaded that James feels like they’re trapped in a box together. He can smell Regulus from where he leans against the sink. He smells like seduction and ruin.

“I just assumed you’d be fast asleep with your boyfriend and his boyfriend.”

James rolls his eyes. “Sirius is not my boyfriend.”

Raising the glass of milk to his lips, Regulus shrugs. “Could have fooled me with all that kissing I heard earlier.”

“Are you jealous, Regulus?” James prods, knowing it’s likely to stir up something he can’t entertain but unable to stop himself. Maybe it’s because they’re here together in the dead of night under a full moon that James feels as though he might give into the insanity calling his name. 

When he lowers the glass there’s a little drop of milk sitting in the corner of his lips and James thinks he’s going to go crazy if he doesn’t lick it right now. Regulus places the glass down on the counter and stalks over to James very slowly, slinky and sensual like a cat. “You know I am, James.”

James feels his breathing quicken as Regulus doesn’t stop until he’s face to face with him, nose to nose like Regulus doesn’t realise how badly he’s affecting him right now. Or maybe he does and he doesn’t care. Maybe this is what he wanted all along. 

Regulus places his hands either side of James, effectively caging him in and ceasing any escape that James may attempt to make. He whispers into the quiet, tension filled space between them, James’ shaky breathing the only sound other than his voice. “Maybe now you won’t run away from me, baby.”

“Regulus,” James breathes, bumping his nose against Regulus’ as the younger boy toys with him, bringing his face closer to James’ as though he’s going to kiss him and then pulling away again. “We can’t do this.”

Smirking at the already worked up state, Regulus stares into James’ hooded brown eyes. “We can. Just let go, James. I know you want this. Why not just give in?”

Speaking hushedly, James’ eyes flutter against his will, breathless at the intensity of the silver eyes staring him down. “I can’t. Sirius would never forgive me.”

Regulus groans quietly, hands flexing where they’re gripping the counter. “Sirius has nothing to do with this.”

“You’re his brother, Regulus. And I’m his best friend. I’m not meant to feel what I do for his younger brother.”

“And what is it that you feel, James?” Regulus asks, one hand sneaking along the counter to rest at James’ hip. “Tell me, what do you feel for me? Is it platonic?” James whines softly and shakes his head. Regulus continues, “Tell me, James. Tell me what you want.”

“I want to ruin you,” James breathes passionately, his already weak resolve crumbling pathetically. “I feel like every time I’m near you I’m going to go insane because all I want to do is reach out and kiss you. I want to consume you whole. I want to do every wicked, filthy thing I’ve ever thought about and let you do even worse to me. When I saw you in the bathroom I wanted nothing more than to join you in that shower and fuck you against the wall. Regulus, I dream of you and nothing else.”

Regulus’ breath hitches and he fails to stifle the moan that threatens to leave his throat at the dirty words James says to him. He can’t help the way his hips stutter forward and press into James’, their bodies aligned against the counter top. “Fuck, James. I want that too. I want it all.”

“But that’s not all,” James gasps at the feeling of hardness that rocks into his own. “I want to stay up talking to you about everything and nothing. I want to sleep in your bed and pull you into my arms as we fall asleep. I want you to explain the essay you’re writing for your literature degree and all the books you love. I want to impress you with my knowledge of Pride and Prejudice so much that you kiss me. I want to go on walks with you, have picnics and lick every insult from your lips as you berate me for being sappy and idiotic. I want you to be mine not just for the night but forever.”

“James,” Regulus responds before he’s crashing his lips to James’, moaning in delight as the older boy responds instantly, his hands coming up to cup Regulus’ jaw. He mumbles into James’ mouth, “You fucking idiot, I’ve been in love with you since I was fifteen.”

✧˖*°࿐

(part two?)

[lucidlivi]

Chosen For Pleasure (V)

Series Masterlist/Warnings

Taglist: @ladysparkles78 @suckitands33 @little-x-wolf @stoneyggirl2 @creative-writing92 @jc-winchester @mrsjenniferwinchester @lessons-of-red @jamerlynn (if you would like to be added to the list please send me a message as it is easier for me to keep track that way!)

ROUGH JENSEN COMING UP.

J: do you have an answer for me?

: not yet.

****************************************************

J: it's been two days, I'm growing old here?

: here's something you've probably never been told before... be patient.

J: you're right, I've never been told that, I'm used to getting what I want... and I want this arrangement, and I want it with you.

: must get boring..

****************************************************

J: four days now, have you thought anymore about it?

I sighed reading Jensen's text.

He was persistent that's for sure.

I haven't seen him since he dropped me off the other day but he's been texting me ever since. He was used to getting everything he wanted, and something told me he's never had to pursue a woman before. I bit my lip before typing a reply.

: yeah I've thought about it, and it's been fun....

I waited for Jensen to reply but it never came.

I felt a little guilty about sending that. Of course I was joking. But he was going to have to work a little harder.

I sighed before grabbing my computer to work on the edits for next months pictures. Gray gave me a raise, appointing me the official senior editor for the magazine. I've been avoiding him at work when I can, still feeling slightly uncomfortable from our conversation a few days ago, although he hasn't said anything bizarre since.

Stella and Matt have been seeing each other everyday now so she's been more absent lately. She didn't pry too much about Jensen. She can just sense when things aren't okay with me.

I tried my best to continue editing but my mind was too distracted. A loud pounding on our door pulled me out of my trance. I hopped up off the floor, sauntering over to the it.

It was probably just Stella forgetting her key like always.

I opened the door, shocked to find Jensen standing on the other side. He pushed in running a hand over his chin, huffing in frustration.

"uh come in.'" I laughed.

He turned to me, a scolding but lustful look on his face.

"It's been fun really?" He asked approaching me.

I bit my lip smirking up at him.

Boy could I really push his buttons.

He leaned down whispering in my ear.

"Let me just remind you how fun it is."

Before I could respond Jensen pushed me up against the wall, his lips attacking my neck. He roughly sucked on a spot making a gasp escape my lips.

"is this fun?" He asked before kissing my jaw roughly.

His hands went under my shirt, practically ripping it away from my body.

I forgot how good he was at this.

I moaned, my hands finding the buttons of his dress shirt, hungrily undoing them. I slipped his shirt off, biting my lip at his toned chest. My bra was the next thing to go. He immediately kissed down to my breasts while his hands worked my leggings down my legs.

"are you having fun yet?" He growled.

"hmm not yet" I pushed.

I could see his jaw clench at my words.

He picked me up setting me on the counter before pushing me back flat. He ripped my underwear at the side causing them to fall away.

Fuck he was strong.

His head dipped down between my legs, his breath fanning over my heat.

"Jensen Please." I begged.

At my words he peppered kisses all around my core, using his tongue to enhance the pleasure. I found my hands make their way to his hair, tugging on the ends. Moans fell from my lips as he worked his tongue on me devouring me hungrily. He inserted two fingers, working them in and out roughly.

"is it fun now?"

As he said that he pushed his fingers in deeper making me omit a breathy moan.

"so fucking fun" I said between breaths.

Jensen stood up stripping his jeans and boxers. Without warning he picked me up wrapping my legs around his waist, lowering me on to him. I whimpered at the contact, forgetting how big he was.

He carried me over to the couch, laying us down.

He pulled out before slamming in to me roughly. My hands gripped his shoulders, nails digging in to his skin. His thrusts getting more rough with each snap of his hips. I could feel the anger rolling off of him as he groaned.

"fuck what are you doing to me?" Jensen questions as his thrusts start to become sloppy signifying he's close to his release.

"Jensen please." I panted nearing my release as well.

A few more snaps of his hips had Jensen and I both exploding with pleasure. He collapses on top of me, laying his head on my chest, trying to slow his breathing. I put my hands in his hair absentmindedly playing with it.

"I meant it" He said glancing up at me.

I gave him a confused look.

"what the hell are you doing to me?" He asked.

"making you work for it." I said biting my lip.

He sighed bringing his head back down to rest on my chest.

"why don't you kiss on the lips?" I asked him.

He shifted uncomfortably before raising his head again.

"it's uh an intimacy thing for me." He said simply without explanation.

"you have kissed someone before though right?"

"yes, one person."

"and..?" I pushed trying to get him to elaborate.

He was quiet for a minute.

"I uh should get going." He said pushing off of me and standing up.

I quickly sat up too.

"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." I said biting my lip.

Jensen was a private guy, I quickly figured out he didn't let many people in on what goes on in his head. He was closed off emotionally. I felt bad for pushing him, but I was trying hard to understand why he was the way that he was.

"It's not because of that." He assured running his hand down my cheek.

"but you don't want to talk about it."

"no I don't." He said sternly.

He grabbed his boxers and jeans pulling them back over his thick thighs.

"okay fine, we don't have to, but that doesn't mean you have to leave.. you could stay the night?" I questioned hopeful.

Jensen had something about him that made me want him around, even if this meant a little more to me than it did to him.

"I told you, I don't sleep with anyone."

It was like as soon as we took one step forward we took two steps back at the same time.

"but I'll be around to get you tomorrow for Jared's dinner." He said finishing the buttons on his shirt.

"wait you want me to go?"

"he invited you didn't he." Jensen said leaning over to place a kiss on my forehead.

I bit my lip nodding while watching him walk to the door.

"I'll see you tomorrow." He said giving me a small smile before walking out.

I groaned throwing my head back against the sofa.

What the hell did I get myself in to?

One minute Jensen was amazing, and the next he could be completely closed off.

I heard my phone ringing from the end table. I picked it up seeing mom flashing on the screen. I hadn't talked to her since everything with Jensen started, being so preoccupied, I neglected her.

"hey mama, sorry I've been preoccupied." I said answering.

I just needed to hear her voice.

"I've heard you got a new friend?" She questioned.

"how'd you... Stella?"

"she actually picks up the phone when I call, but I want to let you know I'm happy for you, although I would've much rather heard it from you." She said cheerily.

"I'm sorry mama." I said feeling the emotions wash over me.

I could feel the tears brim around my eyes. My emotions were on overload. I was so confused about how I felt.

"he is making you happy isn't he darling?"

"yeah mama, it's just complicated." I said wiping a stray tear that escaped.

"love is never easy baby." she comforted.

I missed her voice, her soothing words.

"I miss you mama."

"well you know you're always welcome here baby, that's actually what I was calling you about, I'd like you to come out to California, there's uh somebody I want you to meet."

"somebody to meet?" I inquired.

"Richard." she spoke softly.

"you met someone?" I beamed happy for her.

It had been a long time since she seemed this happy. Dad took a big piece of her with him when he died.

"at the country club, he's uh really good for me, and I wanted you to meet him."

"I'd be happy to mom, how about this weekend?"

"it's a date! just remember my love, you're amazing, and if this guy is right for you, things will work out, and if he's not well you owe it to yourself to take care of you." she said going in to mom mode.

"I love you mama, I can't wait to meet Richard."

"I love you too baby."

...........................................................................................

I sighed fixing my hair in the mirror. Jensen would be here any minute to pick me up and I was a nervous wreck. I was going to be in Jared Padalecki's house with some of the cast from Supernatural. I groaned, as I couldn't get this piece of my hair to lay just right.

"need some help with that?" Stella asked me standing in the doorway to the bathroom.

"please." I pouted.

she came over fixing my part in my hair, laying the pieces flat.

"there, now some lipgloss and you'll be good to go." she said uncapping her favorite gloss, swiping it on my lips.

"thanks, Stell" I whispered pulling her in for a hug.

"of course, it's not everyday my best friend gets to hang out with a bunch of celebrities." she smirked.

"I'm so nervous I think I'm going to be sick." I whispered looking at my reflection in the mirror.

"I mean I could totally go in your place, Jared is a total snack." Stella said laughing.

"hmm too bad he's married, and you're taken." I said joining in her laughter.

our doorbell rang, signaling Jensen had arrived. I could feel the nerves creeping up again.

"relax, everything will be fine." Stella whispered pushing me towards the door.

I opened it, seeing Jensen in a dress shirt and jeans. He took in my appearance giving me a smile.

"ready to go?"

"uh not really, but yeah." I said laughing.

Jensen grabbed my hand, offering Stella a quick wave. He of course brought the bright red ferrari. He opened the door for me allowing me to slip in.

"so when you said some of the cast of supernatural will be there, how many are we talking?" I asked nervously fidgeting.

"just me, Jared, Misha, both Mark's Jeff, Richard, and Genevieve of course. He shrugged.

"and who do they think I am?" I questioned, unsure of what I should introduce myself as.

"my date."

I couldn't fight the smile that made its way on to my face.

It was quite the drive to Jared's place but it was peaceful. I felt the nerves calm but immediately resurface as we pulled in to his driveway. His house was beautiful, nowhere as big as Jensen's but beautiful nevertheless.

"are you sure I should be going in there?" I asked nervously fidgeting.

I wasn't sure I belonged at this get together.

"relax, we're just regular people." Jensen said getting out of the car.

"believe me there's nothing regular about you." I whispered under my breath.

I hesitantly got out of the car meeting Jensen's side. He grabbed my hand intertwining our fingers and giving my hand a squeeze. It did calm my nerves a bit. Jared met us at the door followed by his wife.

"was worried you forgot about me again." Jared joked hugging Jensen.

"(y/n), nice to see you again." Jared said surprising me with a hug.

"how are you Jensen?" Genevieve asked hugging him.

"and you must be (y/n), I'm Genevieve, it's lovely to meet you." she said smiling and giving me a hug too.

she was so sweet, no wonder the fans loved her.

"come on in, the rest of guys are already here." Jared said smiling.

I put on a brave face masking my nerves. Jensen was met with hugs by each of his former cast mates. I stood off to the side.

okay I definitely didn't belong here.

"and who's this pretty young thing?"

"this is (y/n), my date." Jensen introduced.

"what's wrong with her? darling don't you know this man's a dumbass?"

I choked back a laugh as Jensen rolled his eyes.

"I'm Jeffery, you can call me Jeff." He introduced, placing a kiss to my hand.

Of course I already knew who he was, I didn't want to come off as creepy though.

"nice to meet you." I smiled.

"can I just say you have a beautiful smile." He complimented.

I could see Jensen roll his eyes again.

"alright, we're good here Jeff." Jensen said grabbing my hand and pulling me away from him.

I laughed looking back at Jeff to see him smirking.

"you know he's just trying to get under your skin right?" I asked glancing up at Jensen.

"yeah well it's working.." he huffed.."come on I want you to meet Misha."

I made my way around talking to each of the guys there. Misha, Jared, and Jeff were my favorite by far, the way they teased Jensen made me laugh. I was definitely more calm now.

Jensen was right they were just regular people at the end of the day. I was sipping on a glass of wine while Misha and Jared teased Jensen some more.

"hey (y/n), could you give me some help with something quickly?" Genevieve asked from the kitchen.

Jensen gave me a wary look as I walked to her.

"of course how can I help."

"could you help me set the table for dinner?" she asked sweetly.

"I'd love too."

I grabbed some plates and silverware starting to set them out on the table.

"It's so refreshing to see Jensen bring somebody around, he never really does." she said setting glasses filled with water and wine glasses on the table.

Wow. I felt my pulse increase, the heat go to my cheeks.

"really, never?" I asked still in shock.

"he's a complex guy." she said laughing.

"you can say that again." I said laughing too.

our laughter quieted down, our focus going back to setting the table.

"but he's a good guy, yah know underneath all that hostility and complexity." she spoke up.

I nodded my head agreeing with her. I've seen it myself. It's just pulling it out of him is the hard part.

"and you must be pretty special for him to bring you around." she added.

I bit my lip blushing as we finished setting the table. I was about to respond when Jensen and Jared walked in the dining room.

"we heard laughing, what are you plotting?" Jared asked wrapping his arms around Gen, kissing her lips.

Jensen grabbed my hand once again intertwining our fingers.

"no plotting, I was just telling (y/n) how refreshing it is to see Jensen with a woman, we haven't since.." Genevieve started but Jared quickly cut her off.

"I'm starving baby, dinner ready yet?" He asked sneaking a glance at Jensen, but of course I saw it.

"uh yeah, everyone have a seat." she called.

I couldn't help the uneasy feeling that washed over me. Jensen clearly didn't want me to know about his past. The question was why? Also did everyone in the room know but me? Jensen and I took our seats, I dropped his hand, bringing both hands to my lap.

"problem?" Jensen whispered in my ear.

"not at all." I lied easily.

Jensen looked as if he didn't believe me. He instead placed a hand on my knee slowly sliding it up under my dress to my thigh.

"so (y/n), what do you do?" Misha asked taking a bite of his salmon Gen had prepared.

"I'm a photographer, and now senior editor for a magazine." I said smiling as I nibbled on the asparagus.

"ooh so you can totally help me with my social media game." Genevieve said laughing.

"yeah I would be happy to."

"so Jensen said you lived in Laredo, do you live there with your family?" Misha asked a follow up question.

"uh no, I live with my roommate Stella. My dad passed away when I was a little girl, and my mom lives in California. I'm actually planning on going out this weekend to see her.” I said giving him a smile.

I could feel Jensen's grip on my thigh get tighter. Dinner conversation was thankfully deflected away from me. I noticed that Jensen was unnaturally quiet for the rest of the meal.

"problem?" I whispered in his ear, in the same tone he'd taken with me earlier.

He only squeezed my thigh as a response, listening to Mark Sheppard who was telling a story.

"who's ready for dessert?" Genevieve asked when Mark was done with his story.

"would you please excuse us for a second?" Jensen asked standing up and grabbing my hand to pull me up.

I allowed him to pull me out of the house in to the driveway. He started walking down the dirt path pulling me with him quickly.

"Jensen slow down, I can't go that fast in these shoes." I said trying my best not to trip over my feet.

Jensen picked me up throwing me over his shoulder. I gasped as he continued to walk down the path. Once we were away from the house he set me down turning to me.

"what was all that?" I questioned fixing my dress.

"how come you didn't tell me about California." He growled.

wait was he seriously mad at me right now?

"wait are you mad about that?"

"yes I'm mad!" He yelled.

"woah, you have no right to be mad at me okay." I huffed crossing my arms.

"yeah I do, you're keeping things from me."

"oh you're one to talk Jensen." I scoffed.

"that's different." He defended.

"so you're allowed to keep all these secrets but as soon as I don't tell you something you get all pissy?" I growled, glaring at him.

Jensen stayed quiet staring at me.

"and then you do this, you completely shut down on me. why do you keep pushing me away? what are you so afraid of?" I asked putting a hand to his cheek.

He flinched at my touch.

"Jensen I'm really trying here, but I need more." I said biting my lip.

"what like hearts and flowers, I'm sorry that's not me." He said turning away from me.

I walked around so I was standing in front of him again.

"I don't care about hearts and flowers, I just want you to be honest with me."

Jensen was quiet again as he stared at me.

"you're right, I have no reason to be mad, it's not like we're dating." He said turning to walk back to the house.

I sighed feeling a tear slip down my cheek.

one step forward. ten steps back.

Author Note:

thank you all for the love, please continue to heart, comment, reblog and follow!

-Liv

Part (VI)

[blu3-j]

I gave in. I'm doing it. I'm writing the fanfiction. Here you go, besties!

Reader X Barnaby and Wally

Good Afternoon Rests

Platonic or romantic?: You can read it however you like! I don't blame you for either.

Tw: none!

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

It had been a good few months since you had "moved" to the neighborhood Home. "Moved" as in you woke up one morning in a house within the neighborhood with no explanation as to how you got there from your apartment back in your old world. As it turned out, humans didn't exist here, as did living puppets in your world. The crew had been quite surprised upon meeting their new neighbor. They didn't have a single clue as to what you were! Not even Frank had any ideas. He scoured relentlessly through Howdy's book selection and through his own book collection (despite his entire collection being all about bugs) and never found a thing about these so called "humans."

You did things they could never even fathom: eating, drinking, being in water without having to deal with barely being able to move due to the water-soaked stuffing, even breathing. Well some ideas were more common than others. Despite not needing to eat and keeping food around more as more of a fun activity to make or as art, they knew that there are puppets out there that could eat if the wanted to, like Wally. But they were fascinated nonetheless. And teeth were a rare thing to see on puppets. There were puppets out there that had a few teeth, like buck-teeth or fangs. Never before had they seen as many teeth in one person's mouth as you did.

Even though they didn't quite understand how you worked, where you came from, and what exactly you are, they still welcomed you with bright smiles and open arms.

"Welcome home!"

Currently, you were hanging out with Wally and Barnaby. The two best buds had invited you to a small hangout. Barnaby wanted to test a few new jokes and funny stories, and Wally wanted to practice his art skills by painting the two of you together.

Wally was still getting used to the more stiff and solid silhouette you had compared to the puppets. Unlike you, they didn't have any skeletal structure, so often times their bodies could squish and flail anywhere and anyhow they wanted, so long as their felt didn't rip in the process. Wally loved the practice he got from attempting to paint or draw you. Had had an excuse to take in all of your looks without making you uncomfortable! Oh, how he hated that it made you feel as such! He felt so guilty when you finally explained to him how his staring made you feel. You were just so interesting, and he wanted you to know you had his full attention! He couldn't help himself. Asking you to be his muse also gave him a chance to get to know you more personally, and how he just loved hearing your stories of your world while he painted you. It was so fascinating! And your voice, oh how he could listen to it all day. It was his favorite sound, afterall.

Meanwhile, Barnaby loved joking around with everyone, but he knew he would get the most reaction out of you. He had to admit, he found it endearing how much your eyes could sparkle and light up with joy! And he could tell what kind of mood you were in so much easier with just a small wrinkle on your face, or how much you squished or scrunched your face up with joy or disgust. While puppets could express their emotions just as well as anybody else could, you had the ability to add onto that! You didn't have as many limits as some puppets did (like Frank being unable to smile or Wally being unable to frown) and some of your human features just added more. (Like your eyes being wet all the time so they could shine more.) It meant all the world to him and more when he got you to laugh.

It was a warm sunny day, and you and Barnaby had taken shelter in the shade under a beautiful large tree. Wally was sat in front of the two of you, the canvas sitting on its easel blocking him from you view until he occasionally peaked out to get a better look at his best friends. Barnaby glanced down to you at his side and smirked.

"Hey, Y/N," he started. Wally peaked over from behind his canvas upon hearing the large dog's voice. You looked up to Barnaby and smiled, quick to catch onto his tone of voice. He always had this certain tone of voice when he was about to crack a joke. Like a cool chill breeze before a heat wave. "What do you call a well-balanced horse?" You felt a small cheesy grin make its way on your face.

"What?" You asked, feeling like a giddy child waiting for an answer. You could barely hold back your giggles when you saw Barnaby's smirk turn into a wide grin. He waited a few moments, checking to make sure the two of you were looking at him before he continued, letting his voice fall flat.

"Stable." Wally threw his head back a little and laughed, that monotone laugh of his mixing with your giggles and echoing through the nearby area.

After his laughter died down, Wally managed out a "Oh, Barnaby!" His eyes widened a little as he pulled his paintbrush away from the canvas. "Oh, that reminds me, Barnaby..." He continued, his voice soon drowned out to you.

You had let your mind wander and your gaze to the sky. The clouds were so fluffy today. The tree you all had been sat around was blooming and full of flowers. It was a beautiful day. And here you were with two of your best friends. A content sigh escaped your lips. It was such a nice day, and it was comforting to be around your friends. Who accepted every part of you, who comforted you when you became homesick, who took the time out of their day to something as peaceful as this with you. You felt your body relax, and you closed your eyes. Maybe a nap won't be so bad.

The two best buds had been carried away in their conversation, unknown to your sleeping figure. That was, until Barnaby felt a small weight against his side. Wally's gaze followed Barnaby's. Both of them chuckled. You had explained to them before the importance of sleep to humans, and what falling asleep in the middle of the day could mean. While puppets did need sleep, they often wouldn't fall asleep in the middle of the day, even if they tried. They just were never in need of it. It was so endearing to them when you were found sleeping in the middle of a nearby meadow or up in a tree in the middle of the day.

As your mind traveled further into unconsciousness, two voices warmly called out to you. A final caring message before everything went dark on this warm dreamy afternoon.

"Sweet dreams, Y/N."

[solbach-colbrock]

Balcony - Seth Borden x Reader

SUMMARY - Seth, your best friend and crush, learns about the state of your mental health when an investigation starts affecting you. His response isn't quite what you expected

WARNINGS - Ghost stuff, mentions of self-harm and suicide (reader is NOT okay), angst (fluffy ending)

WORDS - 6.6k

NOTES - first fic I’ve written in a while and it ended up very dialogue heavy. I also didn't expect it to be this long but here we are

~*~*~*~

Sometimes you weren’t sure why you trusted these boys so much. Sam had requested two things of you for this investigation: one, that you didn’t do any research beforehand so you’d learn the lore from the guide, and two, that you all arrive in the same car so you can have the drive up experience with everyone else. You had gotten into the habit of arriving to locations early to scope the place out before anyone else and doing research before investigations, and the boys started to get pouty about not sharing the experiences, so you complied. It had also been a while since you’d been on an investigation with Seth, so you were excited to see him again. 

You had met Seth after the Sallie House investigation. The boys had immediately FaceTimed you after both the Sallie House and Villisca investigations (and every investigation thereafter that you weren’t involved in) to tell you what they had experienced, and he caught your attention quite quickly. The excitement in his voice and energy about his experiences drew you in somehow more than the other three did, despite Nate practically jumping around the room when he was talking about the 8-ball. You’d been friends with him ever since and loved teaming up with him whenever possible. You had even been on his channel a few times.

To say you two were close was something of an understatement. He had started calling you after his own investigations, and even showed up to your house all hyped about some evidence he caught on numerous occasions. The two of you had grown comfortable with one another very quickly. You had shared beds when locations didn’t have enough for everyone, you constantly teased one another, and you were more than a little physically affectionate with each other. Josh often teased you for being so affectionate, but you were comfortable. 

The first time the teasing bothered you happened only a few months ago. Josh, along with Sam and Colby, had been making jokes about you and Seth being practically married. You were about to respond with a bad joke about finishing paperwork, but Seth replied first. The laugh that broke up his words when he said he could never be with someone like you hurt.  The fact that he found the whole concept funny enough to laugh at shattered any shred of self-confidence you had left in you. He thought you were gross. You swallowed the pain and laughed along with him, but every interaction with him from then on made you feel guilty for bothering him so much.

Eventually, it got easier to act normal again, but the thought that maybe he was serious about what he said still lingered.

The majority of the hour-long drive to the location consisted of Sam and Colby quietly discussing their plans in the front seat, and you and Seth fighting over a bag of gummy worms in the back. Colby finally intervened when you managed to slap Seth in the shoulder with one. 

“Let’s film the intro before these two start a war in the back seat. Everyone ready?” Colby cut in, taking what felt like the 10th right turn the whole drive. Everyone settled, and Sam hit record. 

“What’s up guys, its Sam and Colby, and today we are bringing Seth and Y/N to the famous Haunted Miller House in Fredericktown, Missouri. We are currently… fifteen minutes away from the house. How’s everyone feeling?”

“I’m excited bro. I’ve been wanting to come here for like, almost two years,” Seth admitted as he leaned forward in his seat. You leaned in as well to be heard better by the camera.

“I’ve said this before, but the fact that it’s a house freaks me out just a bit. It screws with my sense of security when we do haunted houses, like, homes are where you’re supposed to feel safe and there’s fucking spirits here. No thank you.” 

“I’ll keep you safe, don’t worry,” Seth replied. You raised your eyebrow at him.

“Oh what, Ghost Bait’s gonna protect me? No thanks, I’ll just smoke the sage.”

“Ouch, damn, alright. Fuck me, I guess.”

“Damn, roasting him back here. Colby how do you feel about this place?” Sam turned the camera forward to the driver's seat, missing Seth’s pout and your finger heart to apologize for the joke. It was all in good fun and both of you knew that. It was funny to play it up for the camera.

Two minutes away from the house, Sam pulled out the camera again. It felt like you were almost out in the middle of nowhere, even though town was less than half an hour down the road. The property sat on 15 acres of land, which was mostly forest save for the few acres that were cleared out for the house and yard. What was once farmland on the south side of the property had overgrown and been reclaimed by nature, though it was still obviously used for farming at some point. As soon as the house was in sight, everyone let out their excitement for the camera.

The house was beautiful, even in its decaying state. Nobody had dared to actually live there since the 1890s, and it sat abandoned until the 1970s, when it was taken over for paranormal research. Many investigators had come through the place, and unfortunately in the early days of it being open to the public, many frauds had come through. It had been closed again in 1994, and only reopened by approved booking only since 2014. 

The house was three stories, in an almost Victorian style, with a white exterior and a deep green trim. Large windows covered a rounded section on the northeast corner of the house. Even with the peeling paint, it still held a certain elegance. Your jaw dropped at the sight.

“There’s a fucking wrap around porch are you shitting me?!” you exclaimed, admiring the architecture as Colby drove slowly closer. 

“This place is sick, dude. The architecture is amazing,” Seth commented.

“Haunted or not, I’d kill to live in a house like this. Let’s just move in and pretend there’s no ghosts,” you joked. Something clicked in Sam and Colby’s minds the longer they looked at it.

“Doesn’t it feel a bit like the Winchester Mystery house? Just a bit?”

“I was just thinking that, yea. A little bit, like just the style sorta…” 

As Sam and Colby continued talking to the camera, your eyes drifted up to a balcony on the third story, just barely visible from the front of the house. The railing matched the deep green trim of the house, and three large windows lined the wall behind it. You couldn’t figure out why it intrigued you so much. It was just a balcony, though you were sure the view over the north side of the property was amazing You hadn’t even noticed that the car had stopped until Colby opened the door to the back seat. 

“You comin’? We can take a minute here if you’re too nervous.”

“No I’m good, just spacing out a bit. I may need to crack open a RedBull already.”

“Don’t drink it all just yet. We’ve got a long night ahead of us. Come on, help me grab the equipment and we’ll head inside.”

Sam broke the news that the guide was running late, but they had told him where they kept a hidden key, so the four of you let yourselves in and decided where to set up home base for the night. Sunset wasn’t for another hour, so none of the rooms on the first floor felt very spooky just yet. You decided the living room felt the best, and everyone got to work checking batteries and equipment. 

“I’m gonna go wander around for a bit, see if I can find the bathrooms in this place,” you announced, having finished helping Sam sort out batteries and making sure your own camera was fully charged.

“Dpn’t fall in,” Seth joked as he messed with the settings on his camera. You flipped him off and wandered towards the staircase, shaking your head as the boys laughed behind you.

“Hey Y/N!” Sam called out.

“Yeah?”

“Guide should be here in about 20 minutes, make sure to get back down here by then!”

“I will!”

The house seemed fairly well preserved, though you assumed it had been at least a bit fixed up since the 90s. The winding staircase going up the entirety of the home seemed a bit too sturdy for its age. There was a large room on the second floor that looked to be a study or small library, with dust covered books lining the walls. There were two decent sized bedrooms on that floor as well, and two bathrooms, which you took a dutiful mental note of. 

The third floor was fairly similar, but with three bedrooms, and instead of a study there was a room that you presumed was a sort of living room area. There were gorgeous antique couches and rugs, mostly free of dust. Curtains, strangely, only lined two large windows on the east side of the room The windows on the north side were very bare, as was the door next to it. The door leading outside to the balcony. You walked towards the door, using a fair amount of force to nudge it open. It swung outwards, and the light breeze cooled your face as you stepped out. 

The view was beautiful, just as you had anticipated. You could smell the fresh air as it blew by you, feel the chill on your cheeks. You could almost imagine yourself laying in the large grass yard at night, listening to crickets and staring up at the stars. You told yourself you had to come back here once the sun went down, even for a five second glance at the cosmos. There was bound to be almost no light pollution, and you’d definitely need some pictures. 

The wood of the railing felt rough against your fingers, almost bumpy as you pulled yourself closer to it. You hadn’t quite realized how high up you were until you looked down. You stretched up to your toes to get a better feel for the height and then…something changed. Something felt different the moment you looked as far down as you could manage. Your hands gripped the railing, but somehow you felt oddly at peace. You couldn’t move your gaze from its downward position, but you didn’t want to anyways. You let your eyes unfocus, and you took a deep breath. Something about this view felt so… final. Your ears were ringing.

Normally you steered clear of heights, too afraid of your own thoughts and impulses to allow yourself near them. In this moment, it wasn’t the same. You welcomed it, whether by choice or not, you welcomed the feelings that were coming to the surface. You focused on the view. The changing view. It was changing…

A hand on your shoulder snapped you from your stupor, your head whipping in the direction of the sensation. Seth looked at you, wide eyed and confused. Your ears stopped ringing. 

“Are you good? I’ve been calling your name for a solid minute here. Did you see something?” You blinked, risking a glance back out over the trees.

“Uh, no, no. It’s just really pretty out here. Admittedly I did space out a bit, but I’ve just been looking,” you said, still unsure of what just happened. 

“I thought you were afraid of heights, why the hell were you looking down like that?”

“I don’t know, just… just looking around, honestly.”

“Well the guide got here ten minutes ago, I’ve been looking for you. Let’s head downstairs and get you an energy drink on the way.”

“Yea… you know what, I’ll meet you down there. I just want to get some pictures really quickly.”

“You left your camera downstairs. Are you positive you’re okay? You seem a bit out of it.”

“I’m fine Seth. I just want another minute.”

“Okay no, we’re going. You’re acting weird and I don’t want this to be some ‘call of the void’ shit. Let’s go.” His hand once again made its way to your arm, but you resisted his pull. You didn’t mean to, you fully intended to listen and go with him, but your body decided otherwise. “Y/N, you’re starting to freak me out.” Another arm planted itself around your waist, and you were brought inside. The moment you passed through the doorway, the pull you were feeling was gone. “You wanna tell me what the fuck that was about?”

“I don’t- I think I’m just nervous to be in here. You know how I am about houses.”

“We’re safe, we’re gonna sage as soon as the guide leaves. If anything goes sideways, we’ll leave, alright? Let’s get downstairs. They’re waiting for us.”

~*~*~*~

Marsha had a very captivating way of telling stories. You had heard plenty of guides tell their stories about their paranormal experiences and the lore of the locations, but she had done a good job of keeping your interest and making the stories seem just as scary as they actually were.

“Wait, so Edwin, the father, cheated of Gwendolyn with six different women, and then when she found out, she shot him in the cellar, went upstairs, locked all four kids in one of the bedrooms, set them on fire, and then killed herself?” Colby attempted to recap the story that she had just told. He was in a chair next to her, Sam holding the camera standing across from Colby. You and Seth were spread on on a couch across from her, listening intently. Your legs were halfway across the couch, knees bent slightly so as not to jab Seth in the leg with your boot. He leaned forward as Colby spoke, elbows meeting his knees and hands coming up to cover his mouth in shock.

“Yea, you’ve got it just about right there,” Marsha replied nodding. Sam chimed in with his own question from behind the camera. 

“So, what would you say are the most active areas of the house?”

“Most people that come through here say that the cellar, the dining room, the room where the kids died, and the balcony up on the top floor are the most active. You get a lot of stuff happening there. Some people hear stuff, some even smell stuff, and your equipment should be pretty responsive in those areas as well.”

“What’s significant about the dining room and the balcony?” Seth asked.

“Well people have claimed to hear a number of things in the dining room, whether its parties or Edwin and Gwendolyn arguing and throwing things at each other. We’ve even come in to see some of the dinnerware smashed when nobody had been inside for three days. The balcony is where Gwendolyn jumped off and killed herself. Y’all should be careful up there.”

“Hold on, she jumped? I read that she shot herself or drank poison or something. I didn’t see anything about her jumping to her death.”

“People used to think it was something else because of a fake medium that came through here in the 70s or 80s, but we’ve learned the truth since. By the way, if any of you struggle with depression, if you self-harm or think about suicide at all, I'd advise you don’t set foot on that balcony. It affects people that have that kind of thing bad enough.”

“How does it affect people?” You finally speak up, trying your best to keep your voice and expression one of genuine curiosity. You didn’t want the dread to show. You hoped she would say anything but what she was about to say.

“Well nobody’s thrown themselves off or anything, but it definitely picks up on those feelings and seems to amplify them. We’ve had a few guests and mediums tell us that they felt what Gwendolyn probably felt before she jumped. They said they felt rooted to the spot staring off that balcony, like they couldn’t move. They didn’t say they were scared when it happened, but they felt like they needed to be there, and they thought about jumping even though they couldn’t move. It’s only ever been people that hurt themselves or are already thinking about suicide, as far as we’re aware. So now we warn everyone about that. No depressed people on the balcony, we don’t need any more ghosts,” she explained, adding a small laugh to her final sentence. 

You looked at the camera, feigning a surprised face. You could feel Seth’s eyes on you, but you couldn’t look at him. Your cheeks felt hotter than they had a moment before. He had connected dots that you had hoped he would never connect, and now you couldn’t look at your best friend. You all thanked her, and you tried to be casual about your goodbyes. The front door clicked shut behind her. Sam and Colby went to gather equipment for the first investigation, leaving you and Seth alone in the living room. 

“Tell me what happened on the balcony wasn’t what she was just talking about.” There was a faint shake in his voice, as if he was scared of what you might say. He stood behind the couch now, a few feet from where you were still seated, eyes boring a hole into the back of your neck. You tried to think of a quick lie. 

“It wasn’t. I genuinely went up there to get pictures,”. You claimed. You shifted sideways on the couch. You were still too nervous to look at him directly, but you wanted to acknowledge him.

“Without your camera? With the heights? Y/N, you’ve always asked me to get the pictures that are anywhere near any sort of drop, even with guardrails and shit. You understand why I don’t believe you, right?”

“I am begging you to believe me, Seth. When have I ever shown signs of being depressed? I’m fine!”

You weren’t fine, and up until this moment Seth believed you every time those words left your mouth. You had developed quite the skill for hiding your issues, even from the people closest to you. Your mental health had been getting worse and worse, finally devolving into its current tragic state only a few months ago. You were so scared at first that they would spot the wounds on your wrists and hips immediately, but you had no such fear anymore. You had been hiding too well to worry up until now. 

You never wanted him to know, never wanted any of them to know. You didn’t want to bother them with this when they had their own lives to live and personal stuff to deal with. You didn’t want to hear the anger in their voices if they ever found out, didn’t want them to think you were weak or pathetic, but you couldn’t hide it anymore. Not from him.

“Please just tell me the truth. You don’t have to tell me how bad it is, but you need to tell me if it is bad, because not only am I incredibly scared that you haven’t told anyone about this, but this is also about your safety right now. If you’re- fuck, Y/N/N, if you're hurting yourself or thinking about killing yourself, we can’t go anywhere near the third floor. I might just take you home because I don’t want to risk this. Please just tell me nothing's wrong because I don’t want to believe what I’m hearing.” His voice was clearly cracking now, and you felt a pain in your chest every time you heard it.

 As you finally turned to look at him, your hear shattered. Seth didn’t cry often, but the tear tracks lining both his cheeks were so obvious. More tears spilled from his eyes as you looked at him, the look in his eyes a silent plea for you to convince him that he doesn’t have to worry about you. You felt so guilty seeing him like this. 

“Whoa, what’s wrong? Seth, what happened?” Sam’s voice came from behind you. You sighed and shook your head at Seth, whose eyes still hadn’t looked away from you. It was bad enough he knew; you didn’t want to drag anyone else into this. A beat of silence passed before he spoke. 

“Y/N can’t go near the balcony,” Seth said simply, allowing the others to figure out what he meant.

“Actually? Like Y/N… fuck, really?”

You closed your eyes in defeat, resting your head in your hands. The couch cushion dipped next to you as a hand was gently placed on your shoulder. Your knees drew closer to your chest. You hoped that, somehow, if you curled up and closed your eyes, this would just go away. 

“Look, we’re not gonna make you do anything like that, especially if it’ll affect you negatively. Even if I’m assuming wrong here, which frankly I hope I am, and it’s just the heights that are freaking you out-“

“It’s not the fucking heights, Colby. It’s not- they were on that fucking balcony earlier before the guide showed up, staring at the fucking ground. I had to physically drag them inside because they wouldn’t come in when I asked. It only fucking affects people who- God damn it. It’s already affected them and I want to get them the fuck out of this house,” Seth interjected. He was pacing now, picking at the sleeves of his flannel. You had never seen him this freaked out by anything. Colby’s hand moved from your shoulder to your back. You still didn’t want to look anyone in the eye, opting to peek through the gap between your knees to look around the room. 

“I-… I don’t know how long you’ve been feeling like this, and I do think we should talk about it at some point because trust me, its really important to talk to people about this stuff, but I kinda agree with Seth that you should probably sit this one out.” You whipped your head up and jumped from the couch, moving yourself across the room from everyone.

“No, for god's sake I’m a grown adult. I can make these decisions for myself. Put me on a leash if it’ll make you feel safer but I’m not leaving. I’ve been wanting to come here for months. Can we talk about this after we investigate, please? I’m not missing out on an investigation because you guys are overprotective. I’ll be fine.”

The silence that followed your words was tense. Sam and Colby looked back and forth between everyone, but you and Seth just stared directly at each other. The gears were turning in both of your heads, deciding what to do or say from here. 

“The millisecond you feel like you want to go up there you tell someone. Immediately. You can’t go anywhere alone, no solos. I’m not even gonna give you the luxury of pissing by yourself while we’re here. Stick with us at all times, hold my hand, whatever you need to do to stay away from that balcony. I will handcuff us together, I swear to God. I hate this but if you stay in my sight I’ll deal,” Seth rambled, stepping closer to you. 

You knew damn well that he would absolutely physically attach himself to you if he thought it was necessary. You also knew that there was no escaping the inevitable conversation that you really didn’t want to have. The investigation gave you time to prepare, or more favorably, give them a chance to forget that you’re not okay. As much as you wanted to go back to the balcony, you knew that realistically, they wouldn’t let you, which was probably for the best. Your arms crossed themselves over your chest. 

“Fine, fine. As long as I get to stay. Where’s our first stop here?”

~*~*~*~

True to his word, Seth did not leave your side the entire night. Even when he went under for an Estes session, he kept a hand on your knee, and kept a tight grip on your ankle when you went under later in the night. The higher in the house you got, the more you could feel the pull. Your name had come up a few times during the night, usually followed by ‘follow’ or ‘up’, which didn’t sit well with any of the boys. If the cameras weren’t such a constant presence, he would’ve had a firm grip on your waist, but instead he opted for the bottom of your shirt and your belt loops so the cameras wouldn’t pick up so much of the constant touch. You wanted to be annoyed, but you couldn’t exactly complain about having him so close for hours at a time.

The only place left was the balcony. The boys seem in consensus that Sam and Colby would investigate out there, and you and Seth would take one last crack at the dining room. You, however, had another idea.

“Can you give me the courtesy of hearing me out on an idea real quick? I know none of you like it, but I think we all know the best evidence we could get on that balcony is if I’m out there. It would- don’t look at me like that, I’m right. I’m not gonna jump or anything. Look, I was feeling something when I was out there earlier, I was seeing things, but Seth pulled me back before I could figure out what it was. I know my limits, just trust me,” you pleaded. 

“I still don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be out there. Even if there wasn’t a risk to your safety, this could trigger you or something. I just don’t think that’s worth the risk,” Colby argued. You looked to Sam for help, but you knew he agreed with Colby. “Besides, if people know the lore and then see you being affected by this, they’re gonna do the math. I mean, is that really something you want fans to know?”

“Fuck the fans and frankly, fuck the cameras. You know I rarely feel stuff like this during investigations. This is real, man. I was drawn to it before I even knew what happened out there. I wasn’t even trying to learn anything, I had zero intentions besides exploring the house, and it was that strong? We can't just ignore that. This will be good evidence and you know it, even if it’s just for ourselves.”

“I fucking hate this,” Seth mumbled, pulling you closer to him. “I’ll let you out there on two conditions. One, that I hold onto you the entire goddamn time we’re out there, and two, we have this conversation right after we finish, out in the yard. As much as I want to do it the second the cameras are off, I don’t want anything in this house feeding off of that energy.”

“You’ve been holding me this entire time, I wouldn’t expect any less right now. Yard would be smart… I just don’t want to talk about it at all. I’d rather pretend everything’s normal but you’re not gonna let that slide.”

“Well it isn’t normal, and we’re gonna address it. Now, do you want me to hold your hand or what? What’s the plan out there?”

“Estes? I can go under and hold the railing. I feel like that would be at least a decent trigger, give us some good results. If nothing else, I can just stand there for a bit and tell you what happens. It honestly felt like scrying just without the mirrors,” you suggested. 

“This is insane, I can’t believe you want to do this,” Sam said. He handed you the blindfold. 

“You spent the night in the conjuring basement Sam, you can’t say shit.”

“Fair.”

~*~*~*~

“Okay guys, we are about to do something… unusual for our last investigation tonight. This balcony is said to have a weird energy about it, and Y/N thinks they can tap into it. Now, even though our guide said there was no real safety issue up here, we’re still gonna be as careful as possible, so Seth is gonna hold onto Y/N while they go under for one final Estes session,” Sam explained to the camera. He pointed it towards you, already pressed up to the railing with Seth’s arms firmly around you. You slipped the blindfold and headphones over your ears, and focused on the static. The boys started with their questions.

“Gwendolyn, are you here with us?”

“Me. Hello.”

“Hi Gwendolyn. We just want to ask you a few questions. We mean you no harm, we just want to communicate and tell people your story. Can you tell us how you died?”

“Husband.”

“Husband… there is that theory that Edwin actually killed her and that he was the one that set the fires, and then killed himself in the cellar out of grief. Do you think-“

“No. No.”

“No, so you did kill yourself?”

“That’s correct.”

“Gwendolyn, why do you draw people to this spot? Do you want them to know how you felt when you died?”

“Feeling. It hurts. Can’t understand.”

“We’re so sorry that you had to go through that. You didn’t deserve for your husband to treat you like that.”

“Why did you kill your children, Gwendolyn?”

“Don’t talk about-… fuck you.”

“Damn, she does not want to talk about that.”

“Leave me alone. I’m going.”

“Where are you going?”

“Down. Down.”

“We want to ask you a few more questions, is that okay?”

“Deserve this. Nobody loves-… not worth anything.”

“That’s not true. You didn’t deserve wha happened to you. We’re so sorry you didn’t have a happier life.”

“Taking them with me.”

“Taking your kids with you?”

“Let go. Off. Borden. Go away.”

“Oh fuck no, We’re ending this.”

“Y/N. With me. Jump.”

Seth yanked you back from the railing as Colby pulled the headphones and spirit box away from you. You were drained all of the sudden, feeling a bit shaky and dizzy. Normally you needed to be under much longer for it to get to you, but this session really took it out of you, physically and emotionally. You didn’t even know what you had been talking about but you didn’t feel fantastic. He pulled the blindfold off your face when you didn’t move to take it off.

“That was fucked up. We’re never doing anything like that again.”

“What was the conversation? Did it make sense?”

“We’ll talk about it downstairs. I don’t want us to be up here anymore, but it made perfect sense. That was terrifying.”

~*~*~*~

The grass was soft, having benefitted from the recent week of rainfall. The stars littered the sky above you, giving you something to focus on other than the heavy silence between you and Seth. Sam and Colby were packing up the last of the equipment in the house, giving the two of you space to talk.

“It was like… the feelings weren’t mine. I fully felt them but it wasn’t coming from me? It’s hard to explain. It was intense.”

“We need to talk about your feelings. You keep dodging the issue and talking about Estes. You agreed we would talk.” You crossed your arms over your chest in an attempt to tamp down the nerves buzzing behind your rib cage. 

“I know, I know. Fuck, I never wanted anyone to know. I don’t even know how to talk about it. I don’t want to make this your problem.”

“You’re not making it my problem, it isn’t a problem in the first place. It is, however, my business when the people I love are hurting and I have the ability to do something about it. Just… don’t worry about phrasing it correctly, just say whatever comes to mind and we’ll make sense of it together. How long have you felt like this? How bad is it?”

“Since I was twelve, in one form or another. It got worse as I got older, and this is the worst its ever been. I uh… I do cut and I think about suicide a lot. It’s passive though, I don’t have a plan or anything. I just… I’ve tried so many things. Therapy has never helped, my medication does fuck all, all my coping mechanisms stop being effective eventually. It just feels so helpless, like I’m never gonna get better, so why would I put my energy into trying? Every therapist I’ve had has told me that it’s basically managing my symptoms and keeping afloat at this point anyways and I don’t want to fucking- I don’t want to spend the rest of my life keeping afloat. It’s fucking miserable.”

“Have you ever talked to anyone besides a therapist?”

“No, I hate bothering people with this shit. I feel like I’m needy enough without it.”

“You’re not needy, and this doesn’t classify as bothering anyone. It’s using your support system. We’re your friends. We love you. We’re here for you, so let us be here for you.”

“You shouldn’t have to fucking babysit someone that you think is pathetic! You deserve better than putting up with my bullshit! Fuck, I should’ve never come here! This conversation is over until you can get it through your thick fucking skull-“

“Whoa, hey! Y/N, stop!” Seth grabbed your shoulders, stopping your attempt to walk away from him. “What the fuck are you talking about? I never said you were pathetic, and you aren’t. Is this just the depression talking or has someone actually made you feel like you’re pathetic for feeling like this because I swear to fucking god-“

“Do you actually love me? Do you enjoy being friends with me or are you just tolerating me because I work with Sam and Colby? Please just fucking be honest with me. I’d rather have my feelings hurt now than have you put up with me out of obligation. I know I’m not worth the attention or energy most of the time. I know I’m annoying and add nothing to investigations. I add nothing to anyone’s lives and I’m just sort of here, but I just need someone to fucking say it to my face because I’ll happily leave if it’ll make your lives easier.”

You were almost shaking now, hot tears spilling down both of your faces. The heartbroken look on his face sent a pain shooting through your chest. You had made him feel like this and you hated yourself all the more for it.

“I have never, ever felt that way about you. You have no idea the amount of times I turn to say something to you during investigations and get sad when you’re not there. You’re the first person I run to when I have something cool to say. I choose to use my attention and energy on you because I do love you. I wouldn’t crave your presence all the damn time if I didn’t love the fuck out of you. You are not pathetic. You are my favorite person on this god damn planet and I’d give my left leg if it meant you would stop hurting yourself.”

“…Seth?”

“Yeah?”

“You… can you promise me that nothing I do bothers you? I just feel like sometimes I ask for too much attention or I’m too touchy or something. The fans are gonna be all weird and shippy after this video comes out and if you’d rather they didn’t see that sort of thing it doesn’t have to go in the video. We can even stop all touches altogether if you’re uncomfortable with them thinking-“

“I’d rather get possessed than not be able to show you affection anymore. I don’t care what the fans think. They can mind their own damn business. We’ve always been touchy.”

“So… the fact that they’re gonna think we’re dating doesn’t bother you?” His hand drifted up from your shoulder to your cheek, somehow colder than the air around you. You leaned into the touch gratefully.

“Not the worst idea they could have. Actually I kinda don’t mind the thought of it. Our friends are always teasing us for being a married couple. I don’t see how us dating would be much different than things are now. We’re almost there, we just haven’t managed to kiss yet,” he laughed. You we’re hoping, with every fiber of your being, that his laugh was more nervous than joking. You gently placed your hands on his chest and pulled lightly at the edges of his flannel.

“We haven’t kissed because you’d probably regret it,” you mumbled. The buttons on his shirt suddenly became very interesting to you. 

“Why the fuck would I regret it?”

“I’m not exactly worth bragging about. Besides, now that you know that I’m all kinds of fu-“

His lips were warm on yours. The taste of tears lingered in the corners of your mouths. Your grip on his shirt tightened in a desperate attempt to pull him closer. You almost wanted to push him away for his own sake, but the hand that gripped your waist and pulled you flush against him erased that thought entirely. As soft and cautious as it started, the years of both of you wanting exactly this came rushing forth and pushed you both into desperation for one another. The kiss got deeper, fingers pressed harder and wandered further, any care for breathing went out the window. You were the first to pull away, dizzy and overwhelmed.

“There’s no shot in hell I’ll ever regret that,” Seth breathed, smile creeping across his lips as he looked at your breathless state. The butterflies in your stomach hit full force when his thumb brushed across your kiss bruised lips. 

“You just… would it be weird to admit I’ve wanted to do that for a while?” You laughed. He laughed with you, taking your hand in his. 

“So have I. You’re extra stuck with me now because I definitely want to do that a lot more.” He pressed his lips softly to your palm, right above your wrist. “And your issues aren’t gonna scare me away. We’re in this together whether you like it or not. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

Tears welled in your eyes once again. The small gesture made your heart flutter, even more so when he kissed your wrist again, holding it longer this time. 

“It’s bad, Seth. It’s really bad and I don’t know how to fix it.”

“Then I’ll make it my first official duty as your boyfriend to at least distract you from it, maybe with more kissing.” You laughed at that, pawing the tears from your eyes. He wiped at hem as well, catching the stray ones that you missed. You pulled him closer to you, hugging him as tight as your arms would allow. 

“You guys good out here?” Colby’s voice carried over from the front of the house. He and Sam were lugging bags of equipment, finally ready to leave the location. Seth turned towards them with his arms still firmly around you.

“Yea we’re chilin’. We fuckin’ kissed, bro!” He shouted. You laughed and buried your face in his chest, smacking him lightly.

“Fucking finally! Ready to head out then?”

“Totally, we’ll be right there!”

Two fingers pushed your chin up so your eyes met his. He placed a kiss on your forehead, and another quick one on your lips. You wanted it to continue but you knew you had a long drive ahead of you, so you took his hand and walked with him to the car.

“Before we head out, do you want to talk about the self-harm because I’m still worried,” Sam asked. He leaned against the driver’s side door, keys dangling from his hand. Seth spoke before you could figure out what to say.

“I think they’ll be okay. We’re gonna work on it together, right?”

“Yea… yea we are. Together.”