#joseph quinn characters

[kassy-munson]

🚨🚨🚨NEW PIC FROM HOARD!!!!🚨🚨🚨

[the-witty-pen-name]

Love is Blind (Part 1)

Eddie Munson x PlusSize!F!Reader

Summary: In a last ditch effort to evade the normal disappointments of dating, a group of misfits desperate to have someone see who they are on the inside volunteer for the most recent brain chemistry study at Hawkins Lab. 

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: Reader has low self-esteem and struggles with self love/acceptance, anxiety/trauma related to bullying, tooth rot worthy fluff, Eddie being a major flirt, cursing, mentions of substance use, brief descriptions of masturbation, smut in later parts 

A/N: I got this idea from watching the newest season of Love is Blind and getting genuinely annoyed that the show still doesn’t have a more size inclusive dating pool. I feel like the show  could be so much more. There are many subjects the show could be featuring that it just doesn’t. Anyways, this is incredibly self-indulgent, Eddie Munson loves plus size women and I refuse to accept otherwise. Enjoy!

Please consider reblogging/commenting if you like it!

Day One: 

Eddie’s palms are sweaty, and he nervously wipes his hands on his jeans repeatedly. He bounces his leg, twisting the rings on his fingers. Fuck, what the hell is he even doing here? He’s sitting on a couch, facing a blank wall, and he’s absolutely scared shitless that he’s finally doing this. Hell, if it bombs, he gets some cash for participating. Whatever, it’s not like he actually believes in this shit. 

He’s up and pacing the room when he finally hears a door on the other side of the wall open and close. He literally jumps over from the back of the couch to get back in his seat. He can hear the faint patter of someone walking. Then it stops, he assumes the person on the other side has taken a seat.

“This is so weird,” the voice from the other side of the wall says, and Eddie feels immediately at ease. He chuckles, shaking his head, standing up to walk the pent up energy out. 

“Batshit,” Eddie exclaims in agreement. “I don’t know what I’m even doing here.”

“I’m here for the $200,” the voice jokes. “But that’s just me.”

He’s instantly relaxed, and suddenly, it doesn’t feel like he’s sitting alone in a drafty room on a lumpy couch. He’s intrigued, and ready to play the game. At least, he’s open to this first conversation. He feels a little better knowing that he’s not alone. He sits down finally, rubbing his hands still. 

“I’m here,” he begins, allowing himself to be a little vulnerable, “because I am sick of the way people look at me.”

“Fuck, amen to that,” the voice responds with a clap, and the reaction makes Eddie grin from ear to ear. “Guys are so shallow, no offense.” He laughs.

“I’m not usually this outgoing,” the voice shares, sounding a little more reserved, “There’s something about you not looking at me that's making me a little more brave.” Eddie thinks this girl sounds so incredibly sweet. He’s never been attracted to someone’s voice, but he’s feeling himself being pulled in. It’s gentle, and kind and not deserving of whatever the world did to you to lead you here. 

“Well, I’m used to being the spectacle,” Eddie sighs, leaning back into the couch, slumping down. “I can’t help it,” he exhales, “I mean, people think the worst of me no matter what I do, so like, fuck it. I’m gonna have fun with it.” 

“Is that all of it?” the voice asks, knowingly. Eddie scoffs at the perception. Is he that obvious?

“No,” he cringes, and he hears a giggle from the other side of the wall. It helps him feel more comfortable. “Um honestly,” he continues, a little shy, “Part of me keeps the act up cause if people are watching me, I’m not alone. I’d rather be the laughing stock than have no one acknowledge me at all.” 

“I’m the opposite,” the voice shares, “I’d so much rather be out of sight out of mind.” 

“Doesn’t that get lonely?” he asks softly. 

“In my experience,” the voice continues, “it has always felt like people keep me around so they feel better about themselves. I know that’s not true- I know my friends love me. I just- being by myself is my comfort zone. I don’t need to worry about how I’m like being perceived. Or if, like, I'm being judged.” 

Eddie nods understandingly, until he remembers you can’t see him. 

“I get it,” he says, trying to be comforting. “I, uh, yeah.. People don’t like… they don’t like understand what it feels like when you just feel simultaneously so small and like you take up too much space- and how they’re the ones that make you feel that way.” 

“Wow- I’ve never heard it put into words so well before. That’s just been my life, you know?”

“We’re really getting deep huh?” he jokes, chest swelling with pride when he hears the laugh. 

“I really like your voice,” the voice admits, and Eddie feels his face heat and he’s sure his face is flushed red from the compliment. His ego has been very much stroked at this point, and he takes the opportunity to fully embrace this whole flirting thing. If he can at least leave this experiment making someone feel good, then he won’t consider this a waste of time. 

“Well, I really like your voice,” he quips. “Actually, uh- I’ve been sitting over here, on a really shitty couch. And I was asking myself what the hell was I doing here? I am probably the worst person for this experiment- I don’t think I could take this seriously. Then, I heard your voice- and I instantly felt attracted to you- if you can believe it. Now, I’m over here, your voice bringing out thing I would never fucking say out loud. I’m pacing around, you’ve made a mess of me.” 

It feels like only a short period of time goes by, but in actuality, Eddie and his mystery date get wrapped up in talking for over three hours. He talks to her about music, his favorite books, his Uncle Wayne… sharing more about himself to a total stranger than he’d ever volunteer to even his close friends. You swap childhood stories, commiserate over bullies, and before he knows it, he thinks you might know him better than anyone. 

A timer buzzes and it’s time for Eddie to move on to his next first “date.” As the door opens and one of the technicians is ready to escort him to the next room. He desperately stares at the wall before he moves, hoping to hear the voice one more time. 

“Please, if you’re still there,” he says standing up, “I want to talk with you again tomorrow.” He knocks on the wall, rings tapping. He receives a knock back, and he grins devilishly, 

“It’s a date.” 

The technician taps his shoulder and he nods, letting them lead him out to the next room. He wraps an arm around the mousy guy as he jots down something on his clipboard. “I have a date tomorrow,” Eddie beams, looking back at the blank wall like he’s looking back to get another glance at you. 

Day Two:

You still tug anxiously at your shirt, making sure it’s not clinging to your belly. Even though none of your dates can see you, you can’t shake the self conscious feeling. Yesterday was draining, all of the dates you had fell so short after that first one. Nothing came as easy to you as that first one, and you’re hoping you’ll get to talk to him soon. 

You take a sip of your water, and opt to move from the couch to the floor. You sit criss-crossed and stare at the wall in front of you. You really focus on your breathing and try to let yourself open up. You’re here because you’re hoping to find someone who likes you for you- but no matter what, you’re still incredibly anxious thinking about the big reveal. No matter how well the conversations go, you worry it will be null and void once they see you’re plus size. 

“Please, please, please for the love of God that this is finally you?” you hear a familiar voice whine, and you can’t contain your smile. “Pretty girl, c’mon talk to me.”

“You don’t know what I look like,” you scoff, but still, you feel yourself still melting like putty. 

“Fuck, finally,” mystery boy sighs, and you hear him collapse on the couch. You can only assume his set-up is the same as yours. “Baby, I have been dying to hear your voice again.”

“This experiment not working out for you?” you ask, sympathetically. You find it hard to believe he’s not chatting up everyone else and hitting on them the same way he does with you. It’s the only explanation. You can’t let yourself believe he genuinely feels differently towards you. 

“No this sucks,” he says, and then you hear him blow a raspberry. You can’t help it but laugh in agreement. “I just want to talk to you.” He sounds so vulnerable, and you actually find yourself believing him. 

“Again,” you retort, rolling your eyes, “You don’t really know anything about me.” 

“I want to,” he sounds so sincere, and it makes your heart swell. “You are the least boring person here.” 

“I’m touched,” you reply sarcastically, and you feel good hearing that you made him laugh. 

“I wish I could take you out,” he says and he sounds closer, like he’s sitting up against the wall. “I’ve got like no fucking money,” he laughs. 

“I hate going out,” you reassure him, “I want to just hangout with you.”

“No, no, no,” he says dramatically, “No safe zone. You deserve to go out and be shown off. I am not gonna lock you away from the world, I’m gonna show you off.”

“And how are you gonna do that?” You quip, letting yourself slip into a little bit of a fantasy. You let yourself feel wanted and feel desirable even if it’s contained to this room. 

“Well, not to be like that guy,” he’s suddenly sounding a little shy and you find it very endearing. “But like, I’d want to bring you to one of my band’s shows. Like- don’t get me wrong, we play at like really shitty bars that take way too long to drive to. And we don’t even make back the money the gas costs to get there, but like, I really like it and um, that’s uh when I feel I’m at my best, and I’d want you to see that side of me.” 

“So what does bringing girls to a show look like for you?” you ask nervously, feeling a little twinge of jealousy that he may have done this before with someone else. 

“Sweetheart,” he chuckles, “if I was capable of getting girls out in the wild do you think I would’ve signed up for this?” You laugh a little. “Trust me,” he further explains, “This is not something I never imagined I could do before talking to you.”

“Okay, okay, I take it back,” you reply, and you're sure he can hear your smile through the wall. “Let me rephrase,” you say, taking a deep breath, “What does bringing me to a show look like?”

“Well,” he exhales, “I’d pick you up, in my really nice and not sketchy at all van that doesn’t make any questionable noises. I usually drive the guys too but honestly, fuck them, I want us to have time together. I don’t mind telling them to pound sand. And don’t feel bad for them, they’re also kind of assholes.” 

You can’t help but giggle, noticing he tends to have that effect on you. He makes you nervous in a really good way, and you try hard to fight it, but you worry that it’s no use. As much as you find yourself really enjoying mystery boy’s company, you can’t help but let that fear creep in that all of this will go away if he ever sees you. 

“But anyways,” he continues, “I’ll admit it, I’m a little bit of a show off. And I know if you were there watching me, I’d just like be putting my all into it. I would really try hard to impress you. I’d also want the pricks there to know you’re with me so no one bothers you, so as much as I know you’d hate it, I would point you out and tell the whole place you’re there with me.” 

Your face is so warm, and you can’t hold back the cheesy smile that has expanded across your whole face. You can’t believe a guy would be genuinely that proud to have you there with him. You really do think that he’s being genuine, and it makes your heart soar. 

“I’m really surprised you don’t have girls fawning over you, rockstar,” you smile, wanting to make him feel special too. Even if this crashes and burns, you can tell he’s a sweet guy. You can see that maybe he’ll let you down gently. You don’t know why your insecurities hold you down this much. You, more than anyone, get in the way of your own happiness. You’re determined to not let it affect you this deeply. You resolve to let yourself see how this goes, and to throw yourself into it- willing to get hurt. 

“Trust me,” he scoffs, “I am not what you’re thinking I am. I’m not like that guy, I’m more awkward than anything. I think girls are more interested in the football star guys, the future suits, you know? Guys with a haircut and go to college- They don’t want to waste their time with a going nowhere punk.” 

“I really don’t think that’s true,” you speculate, “There’s no one with a poster of Jack Welch on their wall- but every girl I know has a picture of Eddie VanHalen.” 

“Is there like a peephole in here or something?” He says jokingly, knocking on the wall, like he’s looking for one. “Or are you just a psychic or something?” 

“What are you even talking about?” You chuckle, raising an eyebrow, confused. You shake your head, but before you can’t get clarification, the buzzer sounds, marking the end of your time with him for today. 

“NOOO,” you hear him dramatically exhale. A muffled voice, your assuming is one of the lab techs must be exhausted. 

You press your hand to the wall, as your form of an intimate goodbye as the technician holds the door open for you. You get up from your spot and head out, excited to come back tomorrow for another round of dates. 

Leaving Hawkins Lab, each test subject needs to stagger there exits as to not risk accidentally seeing the other candidates. You are in a small waiting room, doing your daily exit interview with one of the neuroscientists. 

*** 

Under the agreement you signed when you volunteered for the experiment, you are not permitted to go to any locations where people socialize and congregate. You’re not permitted to go anywhere where you may accidentally see or meet one of the other subjects. You are required to only go out on necessary errands such as grocery shopping or appointments. 

On the drive back to your apartment, your mind keeps overplaying the worst case scenarios your anxiety keeps conjuring. You know the whole point of the experiment is to see if love, or whatever trumps physical attraction. If hypothetically, someone does fall in love with you- your appearance shouldn’t be a factor. However, it’s not wrong for you to want your partner to be attracted to you. And you acknowledge physical attraction is a thing and if you aren’t someone’s type that isn’t bad either. Your past experiences and unresolved childhood traumas surrounding your appearance and self-esteem, makes it difficult to allow yourself to see that you are actually desirable. 

Although unknown to you, a lot of people in this experiment feel the exact same way. Not fitting into the box society wants to slot them in has made dating incredibly difficult for many. There’s a comfort knowing everyone there supposedly wants the same thing as you, just to be loved. You weren’t sure going in that you would even make connections with anyone. At first, it felt like low stakes- worst case scenario you walk away no better off than before. But, you didn’t anticipate actually hitting it off with someone like you have, and it’s opened a whole new set of fears. 

***

At his trailer, Eddie just stares up at the vent in the ceiling above his bed. He blows out another puff of smoke and watches as it swirls and wafts up into the air around him. His thoughts are consumed entirely with you. He watches how the smoke from his blunt mixes with the smoke of his burning incense and his mind drifts, just completely fixated on how the minutes on the clock tick by until he can talk to you again. 

He wonders if you’re thinking about him, the same way he’s thinking about you. He wonders if you’re trying to picture what he looks like the same way he’s making guesses about you. He thinks about if you smoke, and he imagines what it’d be like if he was sharing this with you. Thinking about what it would look like, your lips around the joint, blowing out smoke from what he imagines is just a sexy mouth. He can’t help but close his eyes and let a little frustrated groan escape at the thought. 

He can’t picture the entirety of you, but more so he can imagine just your presence in his room. He imagines the feeling of someone laying beside him, smooth skin he can run his hands across, the warmth radiating off of another body in his bed. He has your voice in his head, wishing you were talking to him now. 

With his eyes closed, joint put aside on his ashtray, he imagines it’s your hands tugging down his jeans, and it’s your hand wrapping around his hard cock that’s staining the band of his boxers now. He thinks about your laugh, and that adorable giggle of yours, and how much he can bask in the fact that it’s him who elicits those reactions from you. He thinks about the sweet voice, the flirty fluctuations of your tone when you warmed up to him. He imagines you using that same voice to tease him if you were here, seeing just how much of a mess you’ve made of him. 

He’s never been able to get off without some kind of visual aid, so to speak, before. Now, he’s practically whimpering just thinking about the sound of your voice and thinking about your hands on him. He thinks about the feeling of your hands working his length up and down. He imagines how playful it would be, rolling around on this bed with you as the layers you're both wearing come off. He doesn’t even need to try to think about what you look like to feel aroused by you. He doesn’t even care in the slightest at this moment. 

He’s so needy, twitching as he feels himself get closer, and he thinks about what you would be whispering in his ear to get him to finish. He imagines the praise, and the way you would be begging for his cum. He realizes he doesn’t even know your name, as he’s hit with the urge to call it out. 

“Fuck, pretty girl,” he moans instead, working himself up to his release. He keeps moaning out his little nickname for you until he’s made a mess of his shirt and he’s gasping to catch his breath as his orgasm extracted all the energy from his body. 

Tomorrow, he resolves, he needs to learn your name. 

PART TWO

[honey-flustered]

Teaser For…

Along For The Ride 2 (MDNI+18)

Farmer!Older!Beefy!Eddie Munson x Rich!Mean!Reader

You insist. “This is all my fault. I kissed you.”

“And I initiated the whole thing by getting on top of you.” Eddie argues.

“Only because I practically enticed you to reach over me.”

“Except you didn’t have to do much enticing, if any at all,” He says intensely, taking a step closer and hovering over you. “I knew you’d give me the goddamn joint but I reached for it because I…because I wanted to feel…shit, I—I don’t know. But what I did was wrong. In a way, I’m like your temporary boss—-mentor, even. It feels like some corrupt power dynamic I’ve established—-“

“I wanted it,” You say, thwarting his ‘power imbalance’ theory. “I kissed you because I wanted to. That’s it. I was horny, getting high, your lips were there, your body…god, your body was on mine and I wanted to kiss you so badly it hurt.”

You hadn’t noticed how intense things had become until you could hear your labored breaths; panting heavily and not once breaking eye contact.

“You were a gentleman,” You continued. “My brain was fogged up with lust and you could have easily taken advantage of that. You..did right by ending things before it got too far. My body doesn’t realize that. In fact, it still curses you for leaving me high and dry—or wet, for the matter. But you are, indeed, the more responsible adult between us.”

He laughs dryly, shaking his head. “Gentleman? If I stayed a second longer…if you asked me to…I’m not sure I’d have had the strength to stop it.”

You bite your lip to keep yourself from moaning, staring up at him with doe eyes. “What do we do now?”

…..

Working on it consistently and yall know it’s slow burn so when that sex scene hit, it’ll hit different lol

Read part 1 here

Series Taglist: @emma77645 , @eddiesguitarskills , @makaylalovessmut , @supersmexyandhot , @mykuup , @person-005 , @serenadingtigers , @only4wakingup , @anobbs-blog , @empathyroad , @micheledawn1975 , @123iloveyou456 , @ireidsmut , @tlclick73 , @mrsmunson86baby , @zestychili , @cupid-club

[loryevrg]

Joseph Quinn / Dickensian - BBC Interview (2015)

[pollenallergie]

cassie my love, i need more of this in my life. getting high post-sex w older!tom just seems soooooo <3

So…. it took me an embarrassing amount of months to get back to you on this but um…. here you go… this took a turn??? and then a swift turn back in the other direction???? so um…. horny whiplash warning??? ig????

Tagging @ali-r3n bc she asked me to and also @ghosttownwherenoonegoes because Eri helped me out with a lot of the british specifics (the britifics??) so thank youuuu

Okay, okay, without further ado:

Your First Introduction to Older!Tom’s Post-Sex Ritual

(except I can’t stick to a prompt)

Word Count: 2.1 k

Warnings: Nudity, allusions to sex and also some *ehm* inappropriate touching, reader has boobies and a bajina.

18+ only!! MDNI!! Minors do not read this!!! This is not for you!!!! This is for adults only!!!

“Fuuuuuck,” Tom exhales as he lays on his back, staring up at your bedroom ceiling.

“Fuck,” you agree weakly, still slowly drifting down from cloud nine. Tom chuckles at your response as he sits up and eases out of bed. You smile at the sweet sound of his laughter, though you don’t immediately register the movement; still just a bit too far gone.

When Tom struts past your line of sight, still naked as the day he was born, on his way out of the room, that movement manages to catch your attention finally. You frown, at first, because you were already missing him, and then because you were disappointed in yourself for already missing him. Casual, this is just casual, keep it casual, you remind yourself. Tom doesn’t do the whole dating thing, you know that, so keep things platonic and casual. Don’t scare him off.

Suddenly, you’re pulled out of your internal self-lecture by the sound of a distant, but not distant enough, crash and Tom exclaiming, “shit!”

You sit up as quickly as you’re able to, your whole body still feeling pretty limp and boneless after Tom spent the better half of the evening pulling as many orgasms from you as he could. Once you’re upright, you call out, “Tom? Are you alright?”

“Yeah! Yeah. Shit! Er, yeah, just, erm- hang on,” Tom calls back. You hear more shuffling and clattering from the other room, and then you hear the undeniable creak in the floorboards from Tom’s heavy-footed steps as he approaches the bedroom. Soon enough, he appears in the doorway, still shamelessly nude but now with a joint in hand and a sheepish expression on his face.

“Have you got a lighter or, er, matches or anything like that? I tried looking ‘round for either of ‘em, but erm… Yeah, I couldn’t find anything,” he asks, his cheeks blushing as he carries on.

“Is that what all that crashing was?” You ask amusedly, failing to stifle the grin that curls on your lips.

“Yeah… I erm, I might’ve knocked some of yer shit over,” Tom admits sheepishly.

“Tommy,” you say, your tone a perfect mix of amused, exasperated, disappointed, and scolding.

“But, but!! But I put it all back, and none of it’s broken. Swear on me granda’s grave,” he promises.

You can’t help but roll your eyes fondly at that before chastising him a bit, good-naturedly, of course, “Don’t swear on that poor man’s grave. Knowing you, you probably already put him through enough when he was alive.”

Tom chuckles, “Fair enough,” he concedes before raising up the joint to draw your attention back to it, and then simply asking, “Lighters? Matches?”

“Er, right. Lighters. Kitchen, the counter to the left of the fridge, top drawer, it’s my catch-all drawer, there should be a few lighters in there, take your pick,” you inform him.

Tom grins at your response as he makes his way over to the bed. His grin widens tenfold and becomes much more smug when he notices your gaze flit down toward his cock, which gracelessly flops around with his strides, still limp and spent from your previous activities. When he reaches your side of the bed, he places his hand down on the mattress near your thigh, using it to support his weight as he leans over and plants a kiss on the crown of your head. He holds his lips there for a few moments, softly inhaling the residual scent of your shampoo as he does so, deciding to allow you both to enjoy this moment of peace without even being truly aware that that’s what he’s doing.

When Tom finally breaks away, he leans down to whisper into your ear, “Don’t get any ideas, love,” he warns cheekily, “You and that heavenly little place between your thighs milked my cock dry; don’t think I’ll be able to get it up again anytime soon,” he finishes teasingly before kissing you again, this time pressing his lips against your cheek to punctuate his teasing.

You scoff and stifle a smile as you push him away. Cocky little bastard, you think.

Tom holds his hands up in surrender as he backs away from the bed, joint still clutched between his index and middle finger and a smug grin still on his face.

“Don’t shoot the messenger, baby. It’s yer fault for bein’ greedy,” he teases as he walks off into the other room, still refusing to put on clothes.

God, how are you supposed to keep your feelings in check when he treats you like that? He’s just one of your mates, and yet he treats you better than many of the dickheads you’ve dated in the past ever had, better than some of your mates’ current partners treat them, even.

As if he can sense that you’ve begun to spiral from the other room, Tom calls out to you, effectively pulling you out of your fretting, “Ay, me lover, think I’m gonna light up and make meesen a bacon butty. You want anything while I’m out ‘ere? Water? Bacon butty? Some wine? This Crunchie you’ve got hidden in your cupboard? Actually, wait, nevermind, I call dibs on the Crunchie.”

“Maybe some wa- Hey, wait, Tom, no! Leave that Crunchie alone! I’ve been saving that!”

Of course, you frantically try to get up to rescue your precious candy bar from Tom’s thieving grasp. However, your legs are still a little unsteady, which forces you to walk to the kitchen looking like a newborn giraffe, all while Tom’s grating (read: annoyingly sexy) chuckle fills the space of your flat.

You find him cock out, lit joint pursed between his lips, standing in front of your stove, hands on his hips, heating up a frying pan for his bacon, and, annoyingly, nowhere near your candy stash.

“I haven’t got any bacon, so, it’ll just be a butty, I’m afraid. No use heating up a pan for that,” you grumble as you walk over to the cupboard where you stash your candy. Might as well snag that Crunchie before he can.

At the sound of your voice, Tom turns around and looks at you, bemused, albeit amused as well, and says, “the fuck are you doing out ‘ere on those wobbly li’l legs, Bambi?”

His words come out a bit muffled, thanks to the joint perched between his lips.

“Thought you were gonna steal my Crunchie,” you shrug and admit sheepishly through a mouthful of chocolate and honeycomb. At that, Tom barks out a laugh, which quickly morphs into a cough from accidentally inhaling during said laugh. He promptly removes the joint from between his lips, ashes it in the makeshift ashtray he’s made out of foil, clears his throat, and goes back to smoking.

“Jesus, you’re a strange one, aren’t you,” he remarks fondly, his voice slightly hoarse from coughing, as he begins to gather the ingredients for his sandwich.

“I’m very serious about my Crunchies,” you reply, half-jokingly.

Tom chuckles as he rifles through your fridge.

“Yeah, I’m well aware of that now,” he replies, pausing to inhale before continuing to speak on his exhale, “Sit down at the table then, yeah? I’ll get you some water and make us some toasties if that sounds alright?”

“Y-yeah, yeah, okay,” you agree awkwardly as you sit down nearby at your kitchen table, watching him as he works on preparing the food.

Soon enough, he comes over to you with a glass of water and that same cheeky smile.

God, that smile will get you in so much trouble someday, won’t it?

“What’s that grin for?” You ask as he sets down the water, though you can’t help but reciprocate it with a smile of your own.

He shrugs before leaning over to press his lips against yours, moaning into the kiss when you needily take the initiative to deepen it, parting your lips eagerly for him. Far too soon for your liking, though, he’s breaking the kiss, pulling away just slightly to look into your eyes with his lovely brown ones.

“Has anyone ever told you that you have really, really great tits?” Tom asks, his voice low, sultry, and serious, but you can see the mischief swimming in his gaze.

You roll your eyes and scoff at his question, leaning back in your seat, though anyone could see the amused smile you fail to keep from tugging at the corners of your mouth.

“Yeah, you have like a million times since we started hooking up,” you reply with a chuckle.

“What can I say? I’m a man of honesty,” Tom teases, making you huff out a laugh; he smiles at the sound of it before holding up the joint in your line of sight and asking, “Do you want to take a few tokes ‘a this while I finish up our sandwiches?”

You nod and purse your lips, and, as if it were already second nature to him, Tom slots the joint between your lips.

Instead of immediately going off to work on the food, he sticks around to watch you take your first few puffs, still leaning down so he’s just about at eye level with you, his hands boxing you in on either side, one palm pressed onto the tabletop and the other holding onto the back of your chair. Meanwhile, you sit diagonally in your seat, facing him and maintaining eye contact as you smoke. The haze of your high slowly but surely begins to set in, lowering your eyelids to a relaxed level and easing your posture. Between your new relaxed state, the sex hair you’re sporting, the fact that you smell like you’ve just got done having sex, the fact that you’re completely naked right now, and the fact that you’re, well, you, Tom thinks you might be one of the prettiest things he’s ever fucking seen in his whole life.

But he mustn’t forget about the toasties!

So, he plants one last kiss on your cheek because, hey, he fucking feels like it. Then, he surprises you by kneeling in front of you to say goodbye to ‘his girls’ (your tits).

“I’ll see you ladies in a minute, yeah? Be good while I’m gone, try not to miss me too much,” he whispers to them, making you giggle.

“Tom, you’re so fucking wei-” That (affectionate) jab immediately dies on your tongue the moment he leans forward and wraps his lips around one of your nipples, engulfing it in the warm, wet heat of his mouth and applying just enough pressure to make a heated, buzzing sensation spread beneath your skin as he sucks on it. Then, just as you feel that pleasant sensation spread down through your core, Tom’s pulling away, but only so he can give your other, neglected nipple the same attention.

Small mewls and moans spill out from between your parted lips as the long forgotten joint, still clutched between your fingers, hovers over your table, where the ashes fall from it carelessly, sure to leave a mark. Once Tom’s had his fill, he places a final kiss to the center of your chest before pulling away completely and leaving to go finish preparing your sandwiches, waltzing back over to the stove as if he hadn’t just done, well, that.

“Tom… what the fuck was that?” You ask breathlessly. Still too bewildered to notice the damage the neglected joint is doing to the surface of your table.

Tom has to stifle a cheeky, mischievous grin as he feigns nonchalance, shrugs, and simply replies, “Just giving the ladies a proper goodbye, love. They get nervy when I leave ‘em just out of the blue. You know, separation anxiety, and all that?” Tom tuts, “Poor girls. Think maybe you should start keeping a couple pictures of me in your bra, one in each cup, so they can still see me when I’m not around.”

“Tommy, you’re ridiculous,” you laugh as he dishes up the toasties onto plates and turns off the stovetop.

“Ridiculous…ly fit? I know, baby, but why don’t you finish that glass of water and eat some of that sandwich before you go jumpin’ me bones again, yeah? Gotta stay fed and hydrated,” He teases you as he brings the plates over to the table.

“Oh, and, you’re ashing on yer table, love,” Tom informs you with a kiss on the head as he sets the plates down and goes to grab a wet rag to wipe the table off with, along with the makeshift ashtray.

“Shit!” you exclaim as you lift the joint away from the table. You hand it to him when he gets back, trading it off for the rag so you can wipe up the mess you’ve made whilst he gets everything else sorted.

Tom tuts and shakes his head, feigning disapproval, “that’s the devil’s lettuce, it’ll do that to you.”

“Shut up, Tommifer,” you reply, feigning annoyance all while sporting an amused smile. He chuckles at that, though he also appreciates the fact that you neglected to call him ‘Thomas,’ his full first name, when you very easily could’ve.

“Eat yer toastie, me birdie,” He says as he nudges you teasingly, “sooner you finish it, sooner I can get back between those thighs, yeah?”

[littlelioncub43]

imagine going out for date night with tom grant… but he cant wait until he gets you home, so he pulls the car over to fill you up. better sit still on the way back so you don't spill any of his dessert.

Hnnnnnnnnnnnnnng 😩

He a horny little slut.

"C'mere, love," Tom whispers hotly against your kiss-swollen lips, his hands already tugging you across the center console and into his lap.

"What're you up to, Tommy?" You chuckle and crawl over the console. The small car was awkward and cramped, making you both snort in a fit of lustful giggles as you fought with the strap of Tom's seatbelt.

"Just want my girl, that a crime?" He mumbles as you finally settle into place, his lips attacking yours once more before you can tell him that public indecency was, in fact, a crime. The thought quickly leaves you when you feel his hands massage the flesh of your thighs under your dress, but he's pulling back just as fast as he was on you. "Wait, hang on..."

"Oop!" You exclaim in surprise when he, with some struggle, fully reclines the driver's seat with a triumphant grin, the moonlight from the sky dimly illuminating his (quite unfairly) gorgeous face. You giggle at him, loving the way amusement and love seem to pour out of his big brown eyes.

"There, we go, much better," he groans as he lays nearly horizontal, his hands pulling you down to him, "now, c'mere."

The kiss is a mix of tongue and teeth, smiles and moans, a desperate bid to completely devour each other as gently as humanly possible. The throbbing between your legs grows nearly unbearable each time Tom groans, the deep, throaty sounds that vibrate against your ribcage sends shivers up your spine.

Rolling your hips was second nature, the hardness at the front of Tom's "date night jeans" was too enticing to ignore for too long. The relief you feel from the seam of his trousers pulls a thin moan from you, the sound immediately swallowed by Tom.

"Fuck, don't you sound pretty," he mutters through heaving breaths, lifting his hips to match your pace, his mouth now leaving a trail of sloppy kisses and lovebites along the slope of your neckwhile his hands grope your flesh greedily.

"Tommy," you moan into the dark car and grind into him harder, your hands threading through his hair to massage his scalp the way he likes, the way that makes him needy.

"F-Fuck me, darling, h-haa," he moans when your fingers grip his hair at the nape of his neck in a firm hold. "Need you," he whispers into the skin of your neck, "gonna let me have you, darling? Hm? Please?"

The gentle begging really does it for you, Tom knows it. He loves the way you squirm when he asks for your permission to fuck you, the way your thighs tighten around his waist to try relieve the pressure between them; plus he just loves asking. Consent is sexy.

"Yeah, Tommy, you can have me," you agree almost instantly. Tom groans happily and gives your lips a loving kiss. Absolutely filthy, but still loving.

"Thank you, lovie, thank you," he pants as he works on unbuckling his trousers, his hands undoing the buttons of his jeans as fast as he can. A pleased sigh floats from his lips when his cock is released from the confines of his boxers. You barely get a glimpse of it before he's pulling you closer and draping the fabric of your dress out of his way.

"O-Oh, fuck," you moan when his fingers slide the gusset of your soaked panties to the side, the rough pads of his index and middle finger glide through the wetness that pours from your cunt. The pleasure builds steadily as he caresses you, eyes sliding shut, overcome by the steady waves of euphoria that roll upon you.

"God, you're so wet," Tom muses to himself, his fingers petting the soft, wet petals of your pussy until he dips them into you. His eyes stay fixed on your face, watching in rapture as you bask in the pleasure he gives you. The stretch of his fingers sends your hips into motion, each pump of his thick fingers has you grinding into them. You can hear the moans and praises Tom grunts as you ride his fingers.

"T-Tommy," you whine when his fingers aren't enough, "need more, baby, please."

That's enough for him.

He withdraws his fingers and wastes no time lining himself up with your throbbing entrance. With a harsh grip on your hips, Tom carefully guides you on to him. You listen through the pounding of your heart to the breathy gasps and moans that Tom releases. You both share a satisfied moan when you rest flush on top of him.

"Holy fuck!" Tom cries through gritted teeth as your grip on his hair tightens, the sting at his scalp adding to his pleasure. The soft, tight, heat of you was burning him alive, he was already throbbing uncontrollably inside you. You weren't faring any better than Tom was, the stretch of him was always delicious, leavjng you clawing the muscular shoulder beneath your free hand, the fullness of his length seated completely inside you made you light in the head.

The windows of the car have sufficiently fogged up, the darkness of the secluded street now clouded over from the heat of your bodies. Heavy breaths and fluttering whines fill the small space, Tom waiting patiently until you give him the go-ahead. The gentle rocking of your hips is all the confirmation he needs.

"N-No, no, don't," he says and grips your thighs to keep you from moving. Instead he spreads his legs as much as he can in the small car, finding his footing to drive up into you. His pace is slow, letting you get accustomed to him as best he can before his resolve completely breaks. He only lasts a few more thrusts before he's whimpering with you.

"Tommy! Fuck, feels good," you babble as you kiss the sweaty skin of his jaw. The moment you sink your teeth into the sweet spot below his neck, he was a goner.

"A-Ah, fuck!" He whimpers as his hips falter before speeding up, the car rocking with his now heavy thrusts. Those sturdy arms you love wind around your waist to hold you down, giving him better leverage to fuck you.

"Fuck! Fuck! Yes! Tom!" You cry out as he pounds into you, filthy sclickschlickschlick sounds harmonize your cries.

"M'close, lovie," Tom warns in a strained voice, his face flushed red from exertion. "Rub your clit, baby, rub your clit for me!"

He was desperate, you can tell by the sound of his voice alone, but the throbbing of his dick and the faltering of his rhythm were clear indicators of his rapidly approaching end. Your fingers felt nowhere near as good as his does, but they get the trick done. The added pleasure of your fingers playing with your clit has you fluttering around him, each spasm drawing a whimper from your boyfriend. The pleasure mounting in your core was building more and more, until you couldn't take it anymore.

"F-Fuuuuuuuuuuck!" You exclaim when your high finally broke over you, your legs trembling around Tom's lap. The arch in your back grows, giving Tom the perfect view of your sweaty and gorgeous face, the furrow in your brows, the dazed look in your eyes, the way your mouth hung open wide to let out the most pornographic moan— that was his undoing.

"Jesus f-fucking— fffUUUUCK!" He groans loudly and throws his head back, his eyes rolling back as he finishes inside you. You moan at the hot feeling of his cum filling you, instinctively grinding down into him to help milk him dry. Fluttering whines leave your lover as he basks in the sensitivity, his blunt nails digging into the flesh of your ass.

"Ooooooh fuck," he sighs as you relax into him completely, the car now quiet save your heavy breathing. Lazy hands move across your body, tenderly soothing any aches from his frenzied grip. Loving kisses rain down on your head and shoulder, any place he can reach is given a delicate kiss. You can't help but giggle, he makes you too happy.

"You, ok, pretty girl?" He asks with a blissed out smile, mirroring your own.

"Never been better, Tommy."

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated 💖

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[fairymunson]

The Right Somebody To Love

pairing: eddie musnon x chronically ill! reader

summary: you're already used to being alone on the battlefield, fighting a disease that plays foul, but eddie decides to be your knight in shining leather.

warnings: insecure reader, p in v sex, unprotected sex, oral ( f receiving ), mentioning that people are total assholes, absolutely sweet Eddie, mention of medication, illness, but nothing specific, I wanted everyone to be able to identify with it

You were biting your pencil with nerves, correcting your faded skirt every now and then. And it wasn't because you'd overslept, it was because you were cradling it in your hands the whole time, nervous about your first day at a new high school. A new one. Another one this year. All you wanted was for them not to find out, so you held the sleeve of your sweatshirt tightly, covering your puncture scars. It was summer, terribly hot and you were barely panting in those suffocating clothes, but you sweated more at the thought of having to show your body. Your pulse began to pulsate in your head. Panic settled on your heart and gnawed at it vindictively, making you palpitate. You had the feeling that everyone was looking at you, exchanging communicative glances. For the first time, you felt sorry for the teacher being late for lessons. The whispers turned into voices in your head, shouting ''disgusting'' ''you're giving yourself a hard time, huh? ''you probably require some special treatment, eh?'', ''go back to the hospital, girl, no one will take pity on you here''. It's always been like that. From a very young age when they diagnosed your illness. At the time you didn't quite know what it entailed, guessing only that it was no good, looking at the frown on your dad's face and the tears of defeat in your mum's eyes. It was only later that it came to you. Not going to school, the constant hospital visits, the days, passing through your fingers, the infusions and the scars. More and more puncture scars. On your arms. On the stomach. On my arms and on my thighs. They were nasty. The healed ones and the ones that were still recovering, some more red, others brown and faded, but still awful. At least you've always been told that. Your eyes well up with unshed tears as you recall how, at your previous school, girls could be cruel when you dressed up for PE lessons. They treated you as someone inferior, just because you didn't have a smooth belly and a perfectly soft body; they laughed at you because you got tired faster when you ran or played volleyball, or when you hid in dingy corners to take a shot or change your clothes.

''Hey girl, why are you covering yourself up like that? It's hot in here, don't you think?'' Jason whistled at you, drawing the attention of the rest. Thunderous laughter filled the room. A group of cheerleaders giggled, measuring you from top to bottom. They sent you a venomous look, snorting contemptuously. You curled into yourself, covering yourself more tightly with your sweatshirt. Your nostrils moved as a sharp intake of breath escaped through them. You smiled for show, trying to play amused. Pretending that everything was fine, that his remark had not at all triggered the wave of uncertainty now humming in your gut; that you were not at all hiding the tiger-like scowls that made you feel not at all like a tigress and a warrior, but like a little frightened kitten, drenched in a rain of sadness and labiality. Hearing more nasty remarks, you run out of the room, ignoring the fact that you are already leaving the class on the first day. Your head is buzzing with questions about what they must have thought of you now. Why in the hell did you put up that crib? Now they certainly won't give you a break, thinking you're hiding some secret from which to get some good entertainment. You run through the hall, looking back, making sure no one has come up behind you to continue the rambling. Distracted, you feel after a moment as you bump into someone. This someone, grabs you by the shoulders, firmly but gently, pulling you away from his hard chest.

''Hey sweetheart, are you okay?'' You looked up, seeing a pair of the most gorgeous brown eyes. They were so big and soft, fluttering towards you with concern. He looked like Bambi when the butterfly first sat on his nose. Surprised but charmed and so pretty you felt like sticking your finger in his dimples and those soft cheeks. You took a closer look at him, gasping at the storm of brown curls framing his pretty face. ''Sorry, but I don't think I've seen you here before. Are you new? You've already managed to run into those assholes from the basketball team, I swear they're just a pack of motherfuckers and…''He moved in place, swaying gently from side to side. The chain hanging from his trousers made a noisy sound, matching your rapidly beating heart. You blushed, lowering your gaze. Wiping your cheeks with your hands, you sobbed quietly, trying to hold back the crying. In vain. Fuck, you couldn't even keep your emotions in check. They were right. They were all right. You were a failure. Why are you crying now? After all, they didn't do anything. They just hooked you, that's all. But the fear bug was crawling up your spine, leaving a slimy terror behind. ''Hey, hey, hey, baby. Why are you crying, someone upset you? Is it them?'' You shook your head, embarrassed by the whole situation. Shame hugged you to himself again, even though you wanted to break free from his embrace. Humiliated, you clamped your lips into a tight rope to keep from letting out your sobs again. ''Hey, how about stopping by my place after school? Or, if you don't want to, you can also come to my D&D campaign, I'm organising it here in the hall tonight…'' You gasped, rolling your eyes at him. However, after a moment, you lowered your gaze, picking at your nails again with nerves. You were afraid that he would discover the anxiety in your eyes. All your insecurities will be visible to him, and he will stop being interested in you when he discovers the truth. He'll see your scars, the fact that hanging out with you isn't that easy because you don't always feel like doing certain things. Often you're just lying in bed after yet another treatment, you feel like just snuggling up in a blanket and not coming out of it until you've had a cry of all your nerves and hidden emotions. Sometimes you are too tired after taking a dose of medication to even go out for a silly walk. Why does he need such a friend? Insofar as he wanted to befriend you at all, or did he just take pity on the crybaby who ran out of the room as if he had been tripped?

''You know, I… I don't really get to see you after school. '' You choked out, reminding yourself of another appointment with your doctor. An awkward silence, punctuated only by your isolated sobs, filled the corridor. You expected him to leave immediately, recognising himself as just another cry-baby. Although you wanted him to stay, you were too paralysed and buoyed by his height and that dark look to cough up anything. He reminded you of the frontman from some famous metal band you liked to listen to and you couldn't hide how captivated and charmed you were by him. What you didn't know, ba, you wouldn't have dreamt in your wildest dreams, was that this handsome man couldn't take his eyes off you either. From how sweet and shy you were, making him want to just be that shitty sweet boy and gentleman, just to see the smile on that plump, flushed face. He grunted, shifting to bow for you and pointing with his hand towards the canteen. ''In that case, I would like to invite a beautiful lady. Oh, I would be honoured if you would agree to have lunch with me, Miss.'' You raise an eyebrow, a little stunned by his drama and theatricality. When you didn't reply, he theatrically grabbed his heart, falling to the floor. You couldn't help yourself, giggling loudly at his foolishness. And so it began. That's how you met Eddie Munson. Your hero.

The trailer smelled of cigarette smoke and some stale laundry as you stepped inside, giggling warmly at Eddie's boisterous behaviour. He bowed to you and grasped your hand, placing a kiss right in the middle of it, pretending to be a knight. Just like the first day you met. ''My lady, princess of my heart, I wish to welcome you to my humble abode. Oh, damn, I gave the cleaning lady time off, wait. A lady like you can't make such an effort.'' He grumbled, seeing the scattered beer bottles and a few of his T-shirts on the floor, grabbing you quickly into his arms bride-style. ''Eddie! Let me go!'' He just laughed, spinning around with you, skilfully dodging the rubbish. He was a bit overly dramatic and theatrical at the same time, shouting that he had to save you from disgrace, finally throwing your body gently onto the couch. He leaned over you, wrapping you in his arms, which were now on either side of your head. His hair surrounded him like a halo, but his smile was devilish, showing his dimples and that ruddy curve of his lips that made your knees soften and your thinking turn white. You batted your eyelashes, feeling a flickering warmth in the pit of your stomach. You snuggled into him, letting the scent of his cheap cologne seep into your mind, making you into a sweet mush that only he could taste.

''My lovely girl, so beautiful. And only mine, yes? Just for me. All mine.'' He cooed, joining your lips in a faint kiss. Rubbing against him, you sank your fingers into the nape of his neck, drawing him impossibly close to you. His warmth, his hot breath, his lips licking yours, deepening the kiss with each passing moment. You moaned sweetly when, after a series of wet and sloppy licks, he moved to your ear, biting the lobe. He knew. Oh, this sexy bastard knew how much you loved it. How small and whiny a mess you make when he uses his hoarse voice, so different from the tone he uses to read you to sleep, whispering the filthiest things into your ear, reaching deep into your selfish, slutty ego with it. He just knew you wanted to be his little cry-baby bitch. He licked his clit before lowering his voice. Your pussy clenched helplessly at nothing, soaking your little panties. You rubbed against his clothed cock, and your skirt rolled up halfway up your trembling thigh, gaining coveted access to the leather material. He growled at you, feeling his penis flutter at this delicious contact. Oh, what he wanted to do to you. You trembled in his arms, wishing only for him to be by your side, driving your demons far beyond consciousness. ''Beautiful, we are getting naughty yes? Are we getting greedy? You're such a smart girl, sweetie, but when we use that dirty talk you're just a stupid and mindless slut, huh? Hush, baby I got you. Rub up against me, come on, you can wet my jeans, fuck me, use me just like that. I'm yours.'' Each successive word was laden with the sweet sucking of your ear that drove you crazy. You wanted to cross that line, you wanted to have sex with him. You wanted to do indecent things with him. You wanted him to undress you and worship your body, but then the insecurity returned. You remembered your scars, a few new ones, because you had recently started to feel unwell again and the amount of drips had to increase. As soon as you felt his penis pushing against your pussy again, hearing his dirty words and his veiny hand gliding towards your breast and pebbled nipple, you tensed up. The fear returned with redoubled force, weakening you. You and your enthusiasm. Your eyes glazed over, and you fidgeted silently. Eddie immediately sensed your anxiety. Fuck. He discerned every last wrinkle on your forehead. Every little grimace and wrinkle of your nose that he thought was cute. When you got angry, when you lost to him in D&D, when you failed to learn to play the guitar, he distinguished it from that frown that accompanies something nice, like when he picked you field flowers in the meadow, or went with you to your doctor for a consultation. So when you were too quiet and your body stiffened, he moved away, embracing you with a soft and sweet gaze. Damn. He was the death of you. He looked so pretty in the faint light of the yellow bedside lamp. His eyes glittered at you, with nothing but concern.

''Darling, everything's fine, yes? We're interrupting. I don't want to force you to do anything angel, okay? No questions.'' He kissed your nose, stroking the apple of your cheek with his fingers, cooing at how blushing you were. His sweet red beet. He bit his lip to just not start singing a tirade of love, coming straight from his heart, sharp on the sides but plush inside for you, marvelling at your beauty, tenderness and how pretty you were. So vulnerable and tiny beneath him. He respected that. Fuck, he'd be damned if he did anything without your permission. He would spit in his beard for the rest of his life if he hurt you. His most precious treasure. A tiny little bell. ''Eddie, I'm sorry…'' you muttered barely, limping away. You knew that once you showed yourself to him, there would be nothing left. The defensive walls would be torn down and you would be at his mercy. Defenceless, naked. You could lose him. Like all the previous ones who left you because they thought your wounds were ugly and only disfigured you, because you don't look like the women in the magazines with their big breasts and perfectly cut figures that aren't covered by any blemishes. Thinking about it, you clench your eyelids, fighting back unshed tears. ''Sweets, it's okay. You don't have to apologise for anything. You know that?'' Eddie felt bad for thinking you needed to apologise to him. God, he could have jerked off for the rest of his life if you weren't ready for sex and he'd still be OK with it. The important thing was that you were happy. That was all that mattered to him. ''Is it because of your medication? You've been taking them haven't you? Are you feeling worse? Baby, we can lie down, I can make you something to eat, although… I know you're not very hungry when you're taking them, so I'll just make you some tea, wrap you up in a blanket, turn on Black Sabbath or Iron Maiden and give you a little hug? Unless you don't want my touch right now, that's fine too, I'll do whatever you want, just tell me how you're feeling right now, princess, I need to know what's going on in your pretty head…''You interrupted his chaotic ramblings, almost crying from how much of a sweet boy he was. You kissed his parted lips, swooning at how soft they were. Even more than they seemed to be at first glance.

''Eddie I'm fine really, I'm just a bit scared.'' You muttered, dropping your gaze to his guitar pick hanging around your neck. You began to play with it, wanting to ground yourself at least a little to stop the doubts rushing in, and the coolness of the metal made it a lot easier. ''What are you afraid of, my sweet girl? You're safe with me, you can tell me anything, I swear honey. ''You want to be brave. You really want to. For him. But it's so hard. It's hard to trust someone when you've been cheated on and betrayed so many times. When you've had to experience hurtful stares and unfavourable comments so many times. Boys preferred to be with someone else after all. With someone you didn't need to be looked after, reminded of the medication you often forget, often in a crisis when you just want to pretend you're not facing a serious illness at all and everything is fine. But this is Eddie. Your sweet boy who, over months of dating, of sweet dates, of kisses exchanged in the back of his van, has never failed your trust. When you told him about the illness, he immediately wanted to know the details, not because he was nosy or wished to use all these facts against you to make fun of you; but because he wanted to know everything so that he could react appropriately if necessary. So that, despite his forgetful and noisy nature, he could remind you of your medication and be with you at every doctor's appointment. He was there, holding your hand and whispering tender words about how proud he was of you. He was wrestling with his thoughts. He hasn't seen you yet, not even your arms, because you're always covering them up with sweatshirts and sweatpants. And Eddie has never squeezed. Your heart fights against your stubborn and wounded reason and wins as soon as those little Bambi eyes flutter open again, pulling you from the embrace of anxiety.

'Love, if I've hurt you in any way just tell me, I'll fix it. ''Fuck, you can't stand that he thinks that. You can't stand that you've made him the one who feels insecure. You search for his hand in the pleasant darkness, this time turning the skull ring between your fingers. You take a deep breath. ''No, Eddie. It's not about you, it's about me. Christ, you haven't done anything wrong. You're the best in the world. I'm… You know I'm sick. I, like I told you I've faced it since I was a kid, but apart from having to take medication and sometimes I really don't feel like moving out of bed, there's something else, something I'm ashamed of, because I've always been told it's something to be ashamed of.'' You shudder, fighting the sob vibrating in your throat. Eddie doesn't say anything. He just nods for you to continue, tenderly kissing your knuckles. ''I have a lot of scars from all those infusions. They're horrible. I can't stand them. I can't stand my reflection. I can't stand looking at them. I hate that there are more and more of them. That they're not disappearing, they're just getting bigger every day. I hate them so much.'' Eddie's heart breaks. He can't believe you think that about yourself. Not when he thinks you're the most beautiful woman on earth. The most valuable, intelligent. You are his rising sun, when he was like an October night without you. Cold and devoid of rays, his feelings somewhere behind a fog of fear. The silence consumes you both. It begins to overwhelm you. You want him to speak, even if they are words of rejection, though you probably can't bear them. Eddie senses your confusion and self-doubt. He wraps his arms around you, one hand gripping your face. His hand is large on your cheek, giving you a beloved sense of security. You love comparing it to yours as yours literally sinks into him, or watching him slide his thick fingers over your thigh, embracing almost all of it. He sees you returning to him. He smiles soothingly, rubbing the thumb of his other hand over your neck, at the point of your pulse.

''Princess. Listen to me now, okay? I love you. Christ, I love you so fucking much. I think more than my guitar, Lord of the Rings, music, because fuck me baby, you are my music, my muse, my ruler, my everything. And no scars will be able to change that, you got that? Beautiful, they'll only make me admire you more. For how bravely you fight every day, for how you don't give up. For how you are still open to the world, to people, to the good, despite the unpleasantness that has befallen you. I feel very lucky that you let me in, that you let me be with you. Therefore, I will appreciate this opportunity as long as you let me. I will honour you as you deserve.'' You are crying now, ready to make love to him until you are out of breath. He rubs his salty peas, smiling tenderly at you. Even more thirsty and desperate, you slide impossibly close to him. You climb into his lap again and again feel the pleasant stimulation as your insatiable pussy, covered by soaked panties, comes into contact with the rough material of his trousers. Eddie hugs your waist, helping you to move. ''Eddie, I…'' You faintly shrugged. God, it was so pathetic. You rubbed against him like a desperate little slut, crying raspily. ''I love you so much Eddie. I'm sorry I doubted you. It's just that so many people have let me down and…'' ''It's okay, honey. You don't have anything to apologise for, okay? You had a right to all those feelings and emotions and you also had a right not to trust me at first…'' ''No, Eddie. I trust you. I trust you so much. I want you so much, please.''' Eddie stammered, hearing your silent plea. His cock also twitched curiously at this spectacle. The little whine that escaped your wet lips was the sweet end of it. It sounded better than the notes from his guitar and better than any Metallica song. Maybe he was blaspheming now, but nothing he was going to do to you was sacred. Just blasphemous. It was how fucked up you sounded and how desperate you sounded that broke whatever brakes and chains were holding him down.

''I want to see you, is that okay love?'' You nodded as his hands, which a moment ago had been held securely on your sweatshirt, now wandered slowly towards your naked waist. You held your breath, but you didn't stop him. Nor did you stop him when he lifted the sweatshirt up your body, causing you to be left in just your bra after a moment. You clenched your eyes shut, terrified, vulnerable and not ready for the judgement you expected to see in his gentle features and eyes. You remembered the last injection on your stomach and panicked. However, you heard no laughter, no snorting, no chastising. Eddie didn't get mad at all, didn't get up disgusted. He didn't. You felt butterfly kisses right next to your navel. He kissed your puncture scars with his open mouth, purring into your heated skin, sending pleasant vibrations throughout your body. ''Beautiful. Jesus Christ, I have the most beautiful baby under the sun. On top of that, so brave and courageous. Baby, you are so beautiful.'' A kiss. Another just below the underwire of your bra, which he got rid of in less than a second, exposing you to his greedy gaze. And another on your hip. More passionate and juicy. A pleasant current reached your frightened heart this time. He accepted you. He loved you as you are. When this reached you another wave of tears flooded you. This time the happy ones. ''Let it out, sweet girl, you are safe here. My dear little crybaby. I guess I need to take better care of you, huh? I need to show how precious you are. Come on, come here to me. I'll take care of you properly. I'm going to wipe out all the nonsense you think about yourself. '' Eddie licked his lips lewdly before kneeling on the floor in front of the couch. Before doing so, he kissed the bend in your elbow, where you'd last had an IV done. That one kiss evoked more emotion than all the others that night, even though they made you dizzy. It showed his love and care. That he is here for you. That he wants to be there for you and isn't going anywhere. One of your knees was on his right shoulder and your other leg was spread wide for better access to you. He grinned, playing with your greedy crack through the thin material of your panties. You whimpered.

''What's all this whining, sweetie? Be so good to me and I'll show you fucking how you should be worshipped. '' He patted your ass, seeing the stain on your underwear get bigger. He laughed darkly. Of course you liked that shit. You could pretend to be so innocent and small, but really you just wanted to be tied up with his belt, thrown over his knee and treated roughly. ''Eddie, don't tease me.'' You flutter your eyelashes at him, playing the little shit. ''Honey, let me worship my goddess. I'm just discovering a new religion. '' You moan desperately, giving in to him. Eddie removes your panties and you feel like it's taking ages. He teases you and you let him, especially when he bulges his eyes admiring your dripping, lovely pussy. He slurps hot air into it, and as you squirm in his embrace, you get another two spanks. Gentle but firm ones. The kind that makes a pleasant warmth tickle your belly. You swear that you could come just from that. But then he leans in and sucks your clit avidly, as if there is no tomorrow. As if he's licking the last bit of ice cream off a spoon, as if he's had his last meal and as if he's been given water after days of drought. And that is exactly how he felt. Thirsty and miserable until he tasted your sweet juices. He licks your crack, from the tight ass hole to the sensitive nodule, expanding your folds with the tip of his tongue. He again embraces your clitoris with his open mouth, swirling his tongue around it. He slurps lewdly, spitting into your pussy and licking up his drool. His hand glides across your belly, stopping at a sensitive nipple. He maltreated it between his fingers, every now and then focusing his attention on the other one too. You moaned, arching back, feeling the knot tightening in your insides. You had never felt an orgasm approaching so quickly. Your toes curled and you rocked your hips, clenching your fingers in his curls, trying to bring his face impossibly close to your thirsty folds. Though his tongue was literally one with your pussy and touched places you hadn't known before and didn't reach, even with your fingers.

''God, pretty girl. I could eat you out all night until you were all shivering and wet. But I promised to worship every square inch of you, I have to do it, yes? Come here to me.'' You look so fucked he can't stand it. His hands land on your back to ease you onto him. You are now sitting on top of him, your thighs on either side of his hips, and rubbing your clit pleasurably against his trousers again. Eddie removes his t-shirt so that he is skin to skin with you and allows your fingers to tighten on his alabaster shoulders. You admire his tattoos for a moment, running your finger over his bats and spider. But he doesn't let you enjoy the view for long, as he grabs your pebbly nipple between his forefinger and thumb, making you squirm, hungry for his touch and attention. ''I want to see you whole, okay? Ride me, sweet girl. Be a good fucking girl and ride my cock. ''Drooling, you undo his belt buckle and zipper. His cock pops out of his boxers. All hard, pink, wet and tempting. You lick your lips, playing with his red tip, to which he growls, tilting his head back against the couch headrest.

''Don't play with me, babe. I need your pussy on my cock, okay? Get me wet, sweet girl. Fuck, use me for your pleasure. I'm all yours, right? Ride me. Milk me to the finish''He purrs in your ear, helping you climb onto his heaving penis. You feel him rubbing against you, slowly thrusting in and ruining your entrance with just a push. Your eyes roll back, your pulse tightens the hoop around your head, and your breathing speeds up. A light sheen of sweat glistens on Eddie's chest. It doesn't help that your boyfriend is clamping both hands on your buttocks, kneading and kneading your fleshy skin like fucking dough. He pats, pinches and massages your ass, impaling you on his cock ever more brutally. You stagger back and forth on him, jumping up and gripping tighter to his arms, which are doing your leverage. You are swamped, fucked and over-stimulated. His shaft slides into your wet pussy, perfectly hitting that spongy spot he had skilfully caressed earlier with his tongue; his mouth salivates over your breasts, biting alternating nipples, his clasped fingers tormenting your swollen clit, making the most lewd sound. Completely frozen, you whimper and squirm wildly, barely hearing his words. ''Beautiful. Perfect. My tigress. My brave girl. ''He covers all your scars with his eyes, scissoring the places he has access to in this position. This time his arms hug your back, to be able to be closer to him. So that you can look into his eyes, continuing to ride him, this time slower and more sensual. His bushy pubic hair is now rubbing against your clit, sending a delicious shiver to your core. He touches his lips to your mouth, not kissing, but rubbing against it. Your slick nipples come into contact with his hot chest as you circle slowly on top of him now, feeling every vein of his cock deep inside you. You don't even know what he's saying to you as the orgasm oozes towards you like a speeding train, stunning you. ''Fuck, baby, that tiny cunt is swallowing me so good. You are so tight. Come for me, come now. I can feel you squeezing me. ''You're muttering something under your breath. Since he slowed down the bluntness, your release seemed to lap at you harder. Everything became blurry, white and skimming. Satisfied and far beyond your brain, you only felt his semen spilling inside you, soaking you and filling you. The last things you remember are his soothing arms, his words of apology, his breath against your ear, the scent of lavender candles and tobacco you could still smell in his soft curls and the hot water enveloping your tired body.

It was one of those days. You came back from hospital after a whole day of not eating so they could properly prepare you for another gruelling examination. You had had enough. You were exhausted, hungry and frustrated, barely managing to keep your eyelids ajar as they discharged you home, marking you to come in for a check-up in a week's time. Eddie ran at you like a puppy. He insisted on carrying you to the car so that God forbid you got tired of walking. On the way, he turned on California Dreams, humming to you as you dozed off in the front seat, while he stroked soothing circles on your thigh to help you relax; he also took you out for your favourite burger and a double milkshake, because, he said, he had to pamper you properly after those nasty meds. However, the real pampering began at home. He carried you to bed, making sure you were decently covered, had the right number of pillows under your head and a soft enough blanket. He treated you to a million little kisses on the forehead before disappearing into the kitchen to prepare your hot chocolate. Making sure you were full and all warm and snoozing sweetly, Eddie pulled out his notebook, where he mostly jotted down ideas for D&D campaigns, to check exactly what time you should take your medication. This chaotic, careless and incredibly forgetful boy didn't even remember his lunch box or to put the washing machine in on time so Wayne wouldn't get pissed at him again and reproach him for not fulfilling his duties, but you, sweet, adorable and most wonderful you, now snuggling like a teddy bear in the bend of his neck, drooling on his skin in your sleep, were his damn priority. He knew it was common for you to forget your medication, so he wrote everything down carefully for you, highlighting the time of day, when and what doses you were supposed to be taking. When he realised that it was passing the time for your evening dose and you were still asleep, pressing firmly into his side, he had to break your blissful state with a painful heart. He corrected himself on the bed, leaning your back against the headrest, and lifted you gently so that you could continue to lean against his body, but at the same time have a comfortable position to swallow the tablets.

''Sweetheart, hey. I really didn't want to interrupt your rest, but you need to take your medication, okay? I'll give you, just stay here, sweetie. '' He leaned over to the bedside table, reaching for a glass of water. He slipped the capsule between your parted lips, from which came your disgruntled muttering. You were somewhere beyond consciousness, not yet fully awake, aware only of his soft touch and the closeness in which you were splashing. You swallowed the antibiotic, obediently sipping as he tilted the glass towards you. ''My good girl. I'm so proud of you, sunshine. ''He whispered in a low voice, kissing the middle of your ear. You blushed at the praise. You quivered like a kitten who had been scratched behind the ear by someone. Your inner little girl was jumping for joy, and the big, more needy one was clenching her thighs, rubbing heat between her legs. Oh, how he worked on you. He had no idea. Or he had. He was just slyly taking advantage of it. ''Thank you, Eddie. Thank you for being here and helping me.'' You muttered sleepily, settling down to sleep again. You clung to his chest like a little koala bear, but he didn't complain. He wouldn't dare. He politely stroked your back, every now and then playing with your hair and rolling soothing circles on your tense shoulders. He made a mental note to give you a hot bath and massage later, once you were feeling a little better. ''Eddie?'' you grunted into his chest. A light came on over your head. ''Yes, love? Do you need something, get you something?'' You shook your head, glancing up at him from above half-closed eyelids. God, you had never looked more sweet and innocent, and yet he knew that behind that cloud of tenderness hid a tempting devil. ''Do you by any chance have a campaign today? It's already Thursday.'' You reminded, burying your head under his chin. The rhythm of his heart calmed you.

''I had, sunny, but I called the guys and cancelled. I rescheduled for the next one.'' You furrowed your brow, resting your chin on his chest to get a better view of him. The wry smile played across his face. He already knew he was going to get away with it. You couldn't resist those dimples and shiny chocolate buttons. ''Eddie.'' You fuked accusingly, feeling a sudden sense of guilt. You were the reason he'd given up. You knew. Surely he'd want to go when he didn't have to look after you. The treacherous gobble of insecurity began to giggle and ignite the anxious flames of shame in your chest. It made you feel hard. However, Eddie immediately picked up on the change in your behaviour, sweeping the goblin away with one tender kiss on the forehead. He felt you tensing up, so he embraced you tighter, not letting you move away. ''I wanted to, love. Don't start again with the silly things about me sacrificing myself for you and being unhappy because of it.''' He rebuked you gently, sending you a stern look, but the gentleness pierces through that fog. He really couldn't be angry with you. He would jump into the fire if you asked him, so how could he be angry over some trivial matter? ''I am doing all this because I love you. I'm staying with you because I want to take care of you, okay? I want you to be better off because then I'm better off too, you know? It's my choice, it's my decision. I chose to love you. And I will love you. And I will accept you. Exactly as you are.'' Your eyes glazed over. You were never anyone's first choice. Even your parents distanced themselves from you over time, letting you know that they were overwhelmed by caring for someone sick. And he didn't even freak out at the news of your illness. He was sad, yes, but because you have to face it and when he heard about all the assholes who made you feel less than valuable and sufficient. He kissed you faintly, stroking the apples of your cheeks, smeared with emotion. That's when you knew. Hearing the quiet words of The Mamas and the Papas in the background. This is the right somebody to love.

taglist: @eddielives1986 @goodhappyfriday @needylilgal022 @alienthingstwo @stranger-messenger @honey-eyed-munson @gretavankleep37

[punk-in-docs]

Oooh and just thinking about detective Quinn laughing during sex, but maybe that’s just me

‼️Hold the Bourbon‼️Detective Quinn x Reader

TW: uhm filthy slutty sex, PIV, doggy, pretty damn lot of dirty talk. Just man slut behaviour- my brain is broken. This is all I’ll be thinking about for the next 3-5 working days.

He’s such a whirlwind. That doesn’t skip any damn thing when it comes to sex; he’s flippant. Dominant and he will take what he wants from you, with zero seconds notice and the biggest knife edge grin-

Grin so cunning sharp you could cut yourself on it.

The confidence this guy has? Yeah, it’s totally unmatched and he’s down for anything. He’s done it all. It’s LA man. He’s with it.

Sex is a second nature to him. The well learned back of his hand by now. He’s had partners of either gender. He knows how to touch, how to caress, to flirt and squeeze, kiss, and certainly how to fuck them.

He knows how to make the person in his bed cum like a fucking faucet and still be trembling out moans for more. He’s good that way.

Honey his dick is a solid fat ten, and he fucks like a porn star with it.

Honestly, there’s no guy you’ve ever met that’s like him. Mercurial, switchy, a changing writhing ball of slutty and well dressed energy. He’s here, there and everywhere. A storm. He’s a tropical energetic pumped storm that smells like Pour Homme.

Gold medallion swinging slamming his neck. Rattling loud. Chopping a couple lines of coke (one time, birdie, he’d winked) joint tucked in his pocket. Dancing in his kitchen mixing you a Cosmo in a cocktail shaker, in his shiny new Gucci shoes and a striped Versace silk shirt. Red cherry gum and sweet chapstick. Kissing your waxy lipstick away and mumbling how strawberry sweet you taste.

Just when he’s got you thinking you have him pegged, he’s wriggled free and a new facet of his character is ready to stun. He cancels a date, with apologies and a huge huge bouquet of yellow flowers enough for a small Italian wedding, and a handwritten card. Work took him elsewhere.

Sorry Birdie, x. Always with a kiss.

And then a night later, he’s knocking at your door. Dressed in a slutty open necked black shirt and bright pink bell bottoms. Golden Saint chain. Tilts his head at you with a smirk that’s right off some terrifying horror film. Something with teeth and predator instincts. Whiskey eyes warm you and he makes your pussy damp.

He’s got a brown paper bag in his hands. Bottle of Bourbon. Bulleit.

“I want a bourbon with ice.” He greets you with that confusing sentence.

He smiles and licks his lips when you answer the door in a scratchy old aqua blue towel. He scoffs. And then adds;

“And then I wanna fuck you, hard, doggystyle.” He announces. Eyes never leaving yours. Your heart quivers.

Such a mouth on him.

He dances inside. All intent stares and throwing his jacket in the vague direction of your coatrack. He stalks you backwards and doesn’t even look to slam the bottle down on your kitchen table.

He’s stalking you backwards. Two steps become three. Three melt to four. Backs of your knees hit bed.

Now you’re treading the worn old patchy carpet of your bedroom. Peach satin sheets all tumbled and messy behind you. Hands at your side, heart ramming as he reaches for your waist over that crappy old towel.

“On second thoughts. Hold the bourbon. Pass the pussy.” He smiles. Full with pride at his own dirty joke.

“Real nice.” You smart at him. Made you sound like a joint he could just share around.

His hands zip to the front of your makeshift towel dress. Right over your tits. He takes both sides and peels them away.

His smile curls on one side when he watches that aqua blue swim away to gone. Dropped to the floor as a damp scrap of nothing.

“She’s real nice.” He promises you. Standing toe to toe and rubbing his thumb right through the slick mess of your cunt. You watch as he pops that thumb right in his mouth and sucks-

He hums. Slipping his thumb free. You lay thick on his tongue like molasses. Only ten times sweeter. Saltier.

“I think she’s missed me. Birdie. Look how wet she’s getting.” He laughs.

His fingers are back to slipping through your cunt. Parting lips. Coaxing out more of that delightful sticky mess he always drives out of you. Drives you wild-

“She’s a filthy girl isn’t she. Just can’t help getting so slick and creamy when I’m around right?” He grins. Tongue tipped pink between his teeth.

You can’t even get a word in edgeways and he’s already shoving you back to the bed.

He’s taking off his shirt and undoing his Prada belt. Waft of cologne comes your way. “I got something for her baby. I know she must be hungry.” He winks.

Shamefully, that makes you clench. Filthy man.

And there, sprawled in your bed, you stay for a good long while-

Once he gets going you’re not entirely sure your legs will work anymore. sweat-licked skin all over, love bites on your shoulders, and he’s well on the way to fucking your brains right the hell out.

He gets his wish and does you doggystyle.

Your hips cradled snug in his hands, hurting where they’re wedged wide to make room for the drive of his cock. Bottoming out ands scraping tenderly at the warm satin depths of your cunt.

Your knees shiver into the peachy sheets. You’re drooling - it drips slick down your chin and you’re so lost in pleasure you can’t count the amount of times he’s made you cum.

A throat screaming raw amount. Enough that you know it’a not just that silky lube you use rolling in drips down your sticky thighs. Pattering to the bed.

Your hands knock onto your headboard, slamming the wall like thumps. Your palms clammy. Hair wet on the back of your neck and all clumped together thick with sweat. Stuck to your cheeks.

He stops suddenly - sits back on his heels and reaches for the bedside, lights up a cigarette. Your body bows.

“Keep that ass up.” He warns as you stay there in the dark orange wet patch. A small pinch on your thigh to enforce the lesson.

You huff for breath with the small slither of a reprieve he gives you. You hear his cig packet. The flick and burn of a lighter. The slow cloud roll of silver smoke.

He slaps his wet-smeared cock to your ass. And then your clit. Rubbing and taunting.

Drags a bone wracking shiver out of you with the sudden sensation. Then he lines his head up and slips right back on in with a slick squelch.

Moaning from deep within in his carnal chest on an exhale, puffing out smoke as he does. Holds it in his lips. Slips out the cracks of his straight white teeth.

Watching below as one hand palms open your ass and gazes at how he pushes inside you. Girth stretch stretch stretching that pretty pussy so wide. Watching the push and tug of his meaty dick slapping balls deep to your ass. Closes his eyes and savours for a second-

“This pussy has definitely missed me, Birdie. She’s swallowing me whole. Fuckkkk. Look at her go.” He starts his deep strokes again. Deep, unyielding g-spot fucking.

“I’m gonna finish in that mouth tonight baby. Fuck that throat deep and fill you with my cum. Alright?” He says like it’s an afterthought.

You barely had the energy to sob. Or nod.

He’s stroking your hip and ass. Hand slowly crawling up your spine to feel the slam of his hips rippling through you. Your ass was so fucking round and nice. Every part of you is exquisite and he wants overdose on you like bad cocaine.

Another deep drag of his cigarette. He slows. He thinks. Devours you in your post orgasm gaze with those killer eyes. He rambled on.

“Then, I’m gonna eat her for a little bit.” He pauses to lick his lips. “Oh. She’ll be so nice and juicy for me by the time I’m done. Melting into my mouth.” He decided as his thrusts picked up speed and punching ferocity.

“Then-“ He huffs as he really starts to ram you up the bed. Smacks it to the wall. Wants to wake up some of your asshole neighbours. Anger some folks.

“I might have my Bourbon.” He finishes his words with a gasp that morphs into another laugh.

Your pussy choked down clamping on his dick. He hisses through his teeth.

“Or I might lick it off your tits. Haven’t made my mind up yet.” He sighs. Smiles and smokes some more. Pounds away.

You just lay there and take it- this man in all his filthy fleeting bliss. And you wouldn’t change it for a thing- you couldn’t even if you wanted too.

~

[delicate-luv]

i am so very excited for Hoard! I can already tell this is going to show a new side of Joseph’s talent. (and I love when women direct🥰)

[kassy-munson]

To this day, I still find it oddly suspicious that this video got deleted… And don’t get me started on that art print made by Butcher Billy… WHAT DOES THIS ALL MEAN?!? (yes, im bringing this back)

[bippot]

Summary: Ralph knows he's quick to fall in love, and that's bitten him on the ass every single time it has happened. Not this time, no. To ensure he doesn't scare his new infatuation away, he must take the advice of his servant, Michael, and take it slow.

Tags: Friends to Lovers, First Meetings, Meet-Cute, 1920s, Slow Burn, Shopping, Male simp, Caretaking, Fake Marriage, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Weddings, Wedding Night

Song Recommendation : When My Baby Smiles At Me by Ted Lewis

Full Masterlist - here

Turns out that the French Foreign Legion didn't actually want Ralph, which was understandable because he did have the softest of hands. That ensured that all the heavy lifting and hard work was painful for such a dainty, fancy man. In reality, it was due to the fact they suspected he had poor eyesight based on how his target practice went. He didn't hit a single target, but he did manage to graze the instructor's hand when he got annoyed and threw the pistol.

So, he came home. That was not something he wished to do, but, luckily, Lauren was gone by the time he arrived back. And despite Victoria being her usual snotty self, things were fine. Not good. Not great. Just fine.

Although, after his brief stint away from her, Ralph now found it harder to deal with her. Every time she interrupted him, every time she said something rude or even downright insulting about him, he had to take a moment to calm himself. The best way to do that was to get out of the house and walk around the park that was a few streets across. He could sit on a bench, preferably one that was far from the swans as they had taken a strong dislike to him and now he'd developed a deep seated fear of their attacks, and read in peace.

Being without his family was nice. It was a breath of fresh air. Ralph liked it so much that he had a long winded talk with his father about moving out. He wanted to leave the nest, not too far as the apartment he'd been eyeing was only a half an hour drive away from their home, and he was more than thrilled when his father agreed.

This new found freedom was exhilarating. It brought him so much joy. And yet, there was one thing that bothered him more than anything else right now. His new life was not fulfilling in the slightest. All he did was read, sleep and go to the very frequent parties that Victoria would host. It was exactly like his old one, but he could set his own curfew.

There had to be something else that life had to offer?

When Lauren was around, it was as if he could forget about his pure boredom because there were new, unconventional people around so he could focus on them instead of looking inward. Now it was just him and his lack of achievements, his lack of life.

Getting a job was beneath him. Why would he do that? His father made sure that every single thing he'd ever wanted was paid for without a fuss and then some, yet it seemed that having access to money didn't make him happy. He was fed and sheltered and pampered, but not happy. He never felt satisfied.

Was he doomed to live his life as a bored posh dandy? Did his parents expect this, too? If that was true, he wasn’t sure how he was going to manage without going absolutely batty. The thought terrified him. He needed a goal in order to function well, an object in which he could set his gaze upon. The world seemed empty and meaningless otherwise.

Soon he'd get that goal. That goal lived two doors down from his new apartment.

Y/N knew that people were still warming up to female writers. Agatha Christie was really helping the whole thing, yet she still heard some men at the publisher call her Arthur Conan Doyle with tits. Progress is slow. She needed to keep her head up and roll with the punches.

Admittedly, her ride was a lot easier than others as her father owned the newspaper she had a column in. Sure, she went under a pseudonym, but she still had a foot in the door from the get go. There was a hundred percent certainty that she was only employed because of who her father was, but nepotism aside, she had the talent to back it up.

Like most writers, part of Y/N's process was to spiral into a patch of self doubt and profess that what she'd written was absolute hog shit so she always took a step back and stepped outside for a breather.

On one fateful day, the two had planned a little walk at the same time. Almost in synchrony, both Ralph and Y/N swung open their respective front doors and made their way to the pavement. Ralph, however, happened to glance to his right.

Boom. He'd always been one to be transfixed by pretty girls, but he'd never fainted before at the mere sight of one. It was pitiful really, and he couldn't believe he'd fallen under the spell so quickly. His feet moved too quickly for his body and next thing he knew, he was on the floor.

Hearing the sound of something roughly falling to the ground to the left of her, Y/N quickly found the dazed Ralph laying flat on the ground, his hand resting gently on heart as he stared into thin air. She hurried to check if he was okay, crouching down next to him and putting two fingers against his neck.

He had a pulse. A quick one.

"Hello, sir? Sir? Are you alright?" She asked, leaning over and tapping him lightly on the cheek to wake him up. But all he did was mumble incoherently, staring off into space and clutching at his chest like he'd run a marathon.

With more force than she intended to, she slapped him across the face, causing him to jump in surprise and blink at her, finally focusing his gaze upon her. "I'm sorry for striking you, sir. You were too far up in the clouds," Y/N apologised sheepishly, "Is everything okay?"

Her question was met with silence for a second before Ralph responded, slowly but surely becoming more aware of his surroundings. "No, no, I must apologise. I haven't the foggiest why such a thing happened."

Lie. Total lie.

"I apologise if I frightened you, ma'am."

Despite the fact he was responding, she kept her hand on his cheek and gently caressed where she'd struck him, feeling embarrassed that such a thing might happen on a peaceful outing of all places. Still, she was worried about him.

"It was quite a fall," she told him, trying her best to smile while she checked him for any injuries. "You're not zozzled, are you, sir?"

His eyes widened and shook his head, claiming that, "No, nothing like that. I can assure you I haven't had a drop since last night," as she helped him sit upright properly. Once he was situated, Ralph smiled gratefully at her. "Thank you, miss…"

"Y/N. My name is Y/N. And you are?"

"Ralph, Ralph Penbury."

Politely, he offered his hand to shake hers and she obliged, surprised by the firm handshake he gave her. He certainly wasn't as delicate as a girl might assume.

Then, to her surprise, he didn't let go of her hand straight away and brought her knuckles to his lips, lightly brushing his mouth against each of them in a manner that was entirely unexpected. His lips lingered for a few seconds longer than acceptable in polite society and his eyes bore into hers the entire time.

"Thank you for your care, Y/N," he breathed, his voice a bit thick when he pulled his hand away. Ralph cleared his throat and looked away from her, clearly embarrassed that he had done such a thing in such a public setting. "Please, forgive my rudeness. I should return home immediately."

"Oh. Goodbye then. I do hope you're okay," Y/N told him as she helped him up to his feet and watched him open the door, awkwardly wave goodbye then quickly rush inside before he could embarrass himself further. What sort of gentleman acts in such a way?! Fainting? In public? How uncouth could he be?

Yet, it wasn't as if he had any control over the matter. Y/N, without a single doubt in his head, was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen. No, scratch that, he was sure she had to be the most beautiful girl ever in the history of the world. Because there were girls out there that he'd never seen before and never will be able to see, and Ralph was sure she beat them all.

Nobody could compare. Nobody could even come close. Was there another person in the world that looked so effortless as she walked through her front door? Someone whose hair looked enough like silk that Ralph knew he'd die in the most pleasant way if he ran his hair through it?

Although he'd be hesitant to admit it to Victoria, he was rather transfixed by the fact she wore wide legged trousers - which, if he took the time to recall, as did Lauren (so he could have a type) - and nowhere in his mind did he think that she was odd in any way. They suited her. Maybe everything suited her, he assumed as such.

"Ralph, you're back already?" his servant Michael asked in surprise when he heard the door close. In his time away from his family, Ralph had become rather lonely. His sister was the one with all the friends, and here he was, free and totally alone. So, he did something really out there.

He made friends with the help.

I know, I know, it's crazy. While he'd always tried to be polite to those in his father's employ, they were never friends until now. Ralph had come to realise that, not only did his servants have lives outside the Penbury's, but they had families and friends and goals and emotions just like he did.

Michael was certainly a friend. Perhaps the closest friend he ever had.

Yet, that didn't stop Ralph from ignoring the question and hurrying to the nearest window so he could get one more glance at his inamorata before she carried on with her business. He couldn't resist. He needed to see those delicately painted red lips again.

"She's rather beautiful, isn't she?" Michael said, looking over Ralph's shoulder. Of course he'd noticed that Ralph wasn't focused on anything else other than the woman in question. "She always says hello when I pass her with the shopping. She's quite nice for someone so unconventional."

"Unconventional how?"

"The trousers are a start."

As she made it down the street and out of his view, Ralph let out a sigh and rested his forehead against the cool glass pane. "Other than the obvious, Michael," he huffed, creating a patch of condensation that was swiftly wiped away.

"Apparently, Anna -" The only other servant he allowed himself to have. "-Spoke to her when she moved in a week or so back, and she lives there all by herself."

That caught Ralph's attention. He spun around in his spot to stare at Michael with wide eyes, his mouth gaping slightly. "She's not married? Now that is a relief!"

Looking back to his very recent memories, he didn't see a ring on her left hand so this was amazing news.

"Her father's Mr L/N."

"He owns The Shoehorn Press, right?"

"Correct."

The gears were turning in his little head. Not only was she perfect for him, their families were compatible too. Wasn't that a relief. It was fate. The Penbury's owned a batch of high class theatres (which could be why the twins were dramatic all the time) and the L/N owned the most reliable paper. Perfection in every way.

"And Mr L/N let's her write an article every week to go in it."

"She's a working girl? Oh, I like that."

Was there any part of her that he didn't like?

"I heard from Elizabeth down the street that Mr L/N keeps setting her up with potential suitors but they never work out. She refuses to marry."

Shit. There it was. That piece of information was disheartening for Ralph to hear. Usually, he was fond of hearing all the gossip Michael had managed to gather from the other servants on the street, but this bit, well, it's safe to say his shoulders slouched as he heard it.

From the moment he understood what a husband was, he knew that's what he wanted to be. A life where he gets to be married to a beautiful lady who he could worship and love and cherish. There was no job out there that suited Ralph better. The thought of taking up an occupation filled him with dread, but loving his wife forever? That could be easily done.

A small, happy grin crossed his lips as he contemplated the notion, allowing his mind to imagine what it would be like to spend every day by her side, to wake up next to her every morning, to hold her in his arms at night and feel her warm breath fanning across his neck whenever she snuggled up closer… There was nothing in the world that sounded more desirable than being her husband.

Alas, it seemed that she didn't want one. She wouldn't want him. His smile faded as quickly as it had appeared.

"Oh Michael, why is the world so cruel to me? Why can't happiness be within reach?" Ralph whined dramatically, resting his hands against his face, his elbows propped up on the windowsill. He closed his eyes tightly, feeling the warmth of his own sadness seeping into him and infecting everything he held dear.

What did love even mean to him anyway? Was he meant to settle down someday? Was that even possible anymore? He knew most of the ladies in town thought he was far too much of a dandy for them to ever be interested in him. And it bothered him to no end, because even though he was thoughtful and sensitive and open, he was a man that had his own unique brand of masculinity.

It wasn't like he was unattractive or unapproachable. Quite the opposite actually. People would often compliment him for his style or his manners, but his personality was not something people seemed to enjoy. Was he too excitable? Too outspoken? Too loud? Too annoying?

Or simply, was he too Ralph?

He sighed deeply before opening his eyes and looking up to the ceiling; letting out a long, low groan. There was absolutely no way around this. No matter how hard he tried to convince his heart that it was hopeless, it was still stuck on her.

Michael gave him a reassuring pat on the back and couldn't stop himself from chuckling at how dramatic Ralph was being. He did look a tad pathetic standing there with his nose pressed against the glass, so, with a light yet supportive smile, Michael spoke.

"Perhaps, you should get to know her before you make these assumptions. Take it slow, Ralph, and try your best. If she doesn't feel the same about you, then maybe you shouldn't be so persistent about the whole thing..."

"No, Michael. She must. I need her to love me." He paused for a moment to take a deep breath, before continuing with a confident tone of voice. "But, I think taking it slow is a good idea. I've rushed proposals before and that did not turn out well for either me or my past lady love…"

That was an understatement.

"Why don't you try to get to know her before you start planning how many kids you'll have -"

"Three. Two girls. One boy."

Sighing, Michael turned Ralph around to face him and placed his hands on his employer's shoulders. "Listen to the words coming out of my mouth, Ralph," he scolded gently. "This lady is not going to wake up tomorrow and suddenly want to marry you."

"Why not?"

"Because she doesn't know you."

"I'm well aware of that, Michael," Ralph insisted determinedly, his gaze intense as he stared at his friend. It faltered as dipped his head and, almost inaudibly, whispered, "What if she gets to know me and doesn't like.. what if she doesn't like the real me?"

What if she decided she didn't care for his quirky, eccentric personality? What if she found another gentleman worthy enough to love and marry her after all? What if... what if... what if...! Ralph couldn't even bring himself to finish thinking about all the possible consequences that might await him if his hopes weren't realised.

"That's a gamble you're going to have to take."

Shit, that wasn't something he wanted to hear. He wanted things to be easy. He wanted her to swoon and blush and fall for him as easily as he did for her. He wanted her to be his. He wanted her to smile and call him her darling and kiss him like he was the only thing in the entire world that mattered.

Not a risk. Not a chance. Not a possibility. A certainty.

Ralph nodded his head slowly, trying to ignore the pain that settled in his chest as Michael released his shoulders and pulled away.

"Start small. Say hello. Ask how she's doing. Tell her about yourself. Try to make her laugh. Be friendly before you try to woo her."

Michael's words brought out some optimism in Ralph and lifted his spirits considerably. Even though it was a big risk, he would do it no matter how much his heart ached to take it slow. It wouldn't hurt to try.

Okay, okay...he could do this. He could act normal around a woman.

The next day, he got his chance to try. Ralph exited at the exact same time as he had the day previous and hoped she followed a similar routine each day. He stood half in, half out of his front door and waited patiently until he heard her door open.

"Good mornin', Miss!" Ralph called brightly and, despite the fact he had caused her to jump and her bag to slip down her shoulder, she turned to give him a smile.

"Morning, Mr Penbury."

"Please, call me Ralph."

He closed his door and tried to hide his excitement when she walked to lean against the fence that was opposite his house. He practically skipped to stand next to her, trying his hardest not to appear too eager but failing miserably.

"How are you today? You're not going to faint on me, are you?" She asked playfully, raising an eyebrow in amusement. Her lips curled upwards just slightly at the corners when he shook his head violently.

"No, no, no. I'm fine! How are you?" He asked in return, smiling shyly at her and ignoring his nerves that threatened to consume him.

"I'm, uh... a bit of a mess, if you want the honest answer." She chuckled nervously. "I'm a writer, you see, and I seem to be running low on stories as of late... but you don't want to hear me ramble all-"

"I do!" He cut in excitedly. "I really do. Tell me."

And she did. The pair began walking towards the park and chatted away, talking about anything that came to their minds. From food to the weather, to books they enjoyed to art they had seen, the two talked endlessly about everything and nothing at the same time. All Ralph could think was that this was possibly one of the happiest days of his life so far.

Y/N soon found out that Ralph was a great listener and that their lively conversation was getting the ideas in her head to float to the top of her brain in a dizzy rush of inspiration. By the time they got to the park, she'd completely forgotten about her little problem and was able to focus solely on enjoying herself and learning about the man next to her.

In a sudden moment of confidence, Ralph offered his arm for her to link hers through and she complied, allowing him to lead her off to walk along the path leading to the pond. With ease, he made his way through the paths and led her over to where the water flowed lazily and without worry.

"You're so easy to talk to," he confessed quietly, leaning in a bit close so that she could hear him clearly. "Talking to you is like breathing fresh, unpolluted air."

"You flatter me," Y/N giggled bashfully as she brushed her fingers lightly against the fabric covering his bicep. She could feel his muscles flex underneath the touch. The heat that radiated from him was almost unbearable in the most pleasant way.

"I simply speak the truth." He grinned as he gazed across up at her, gazing intently into her eyes. "I hope we can do this more often…if you'd like us to."

"I would like that very much, Ralph."

To say that he looked like a puppy would be an understatement. As he gazed up at her, his eyes were wide filled with so much wonder and joy that it was almost impossible not to smile. Even when he happened to walk into a tree branch and, in doing so, messed up his perfectly styled hair.

"Oh shit," he cursed as he made contact with the rough bark, wincing in discomfort at the sting at the twigs poking at his head. He swatted them away whilst trying desperately to straighten his messy hair, and Y/N couldn't help but to let out a hearty laughter at his reaction.

She held her hand out and only attempted to help tame his hair when he nodded, commenting, "I actually think you look quite nice with the messy hair look."

"Thank you…" He muttered quietly, staring down at the ground, blushing under her praise. Then his head shot up again and he flashed her an incredibly goofy smile. "...Honestly, I don't really like how all the gel feels on my head. It makes it feel stiff and dry."

With a snort, Y/N replied by ruffling his hair even more than it already was. "Why'd you wear it like that then?" she inquired curiously. He shrugged his shoulders and gave her a sheepish grin, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Victoria tells me to. Says that it looks better and I'm not one to argue with her."

"Ah, I see," she murmured at the mention of a woman in his life. She glanced sideways at him and forced a smile. "Is Victoria your girlfriend?"

"Gross, no. She's my sister. Twin sister, non-identical."

In relief, her smile grew wider at the news and somehow got happier when he added, "I don't have a girlfriend. Do you?"

"No, I don't have a girlfriend."

"Oh, oh, I meant... I meant like a boyfriend, you know, like a boyfriend." His brows furrowed briefly as he tried to decipher how she'd reacted to the fact he just implied that she was a lesbian. A lesbian in 1927, no less.

Yet, she didn't seem to mind. In fact, the way she smiled at him told him that the whole situation hadn't seemed to phase her all that much.

"Uh... no. I don't have a boyfriend."

He sighed, deeply relieved that there had been absolutely no indication whatsoever that she'd thought he had been strange or inappropriate in his questioning, and on top of that, she was single and ready to mingle.

"I don't have a boyfriend either, just in case you wanted to know," he added with an almost teasing lilt to his voice, earning a chuckle from her as they found a bench and sat down comfortably together side by side.

As soon as she placed her bag down, the ducks came running and caused Ralph to yelp at their sudden appearance. Y/N cackled at his startled expression. She reached into her bag and pulled out what at first looked like a stack of newspapers, but once she peeled back the paper, it was very clearly a few pieces of bread that she'd wrapped up so the crumbs wouldn't get anywhere.

Tearing pieces off and throwing it for the ducks, she turned to explain, "I do this a lot. They probably recognise the bag and know they're going to be fed."

"You feed these beasts?"

Again, she laughed. She held out a slice to him, which he took cautiously, and gestured for him to break off a bit and toss it. When he complied, a duckling waddled over to it and gobbled it up greedily.

"That's quite cute actually..." he commented, watching the animal enjoy itself before turning his attention back to her as she continued feeding the ducks. He couldn't help but stare at her as she did so, taking in every detail. She was such a beautiful sight and, although he felt the need to hold himself back in fear that he might embarrass himself, he knew he should make sure to commit her beauty to memory.

The sun filtered through the branches above, illuminating her soft hair beautifully and bathing her in warm and incredibly rare British sunlight. She glowed, he realised with a smile. Her eyes shone and sparkled with so much happiness; her face flushed and rosy; a small, crooked smile tugged the corner of her mouth upward in a way that made him believe there was nowhere else he'd rather be.

Oh, how he wished he'd brought his sketchpad. Maybe then he could capture her in all its splendour. But he couldn't bring himself to take his eyes off of her.

Interrupting his daze, one of the bigger duck's got impatient as he still had half a slice in his hand and hadn't thrown it so it nipped at his fingers. He jumped with a very high pitched squeal and flung the bread far away from him, where it hit a nearby tree and flopped to the ground with a soft thump.

"Ow." He cradled his finger in his other hand gently, frowning at the pain that pulsated through his digit.

"Are you okay? Let me see."

Placing his hand in hers, he watched her inspect the damage - the bird's bite hadn't even broken skin but would be a purplish colour by the evening - and she deadpanned, "I'm surprised it didn't bite your hand off," only to immediately drop the facade when he seemed genuinely concerned. "I'm kidding. The worst you could get from a duck would be an infection and your nip didn't draw blood so you're perfectly fine."

Ralph let out a sigh of relief. "Oh thank god…" He smiled weakly at her and then glanced towards the duck who seemed pretty contented now. The simple act of holding her hand made him forget about any smidgeon of pain.

From the other side of the pond, Ralph felt a pair of eyes on him and turned his head to find that they belonged to none other than Sonia, one of Victoria's friends. He slowly took his hand out of Y/N grip and shifted so Y/N was blocked from view by his body.

"Do you know her?" she questioned in a quiet voice, peering around Ralph's shoulder in order to see behind him.

"She's one of my sister's friends, yes. And not one of the nice ones."

"Ah. I see. She's coming this way."

"She is?"

Noticing how uncomfortable he was, Y/N had to offer, "Shall we make a quick getaway?" He considered her suggestion for a moment and nodded his head before standing up hastily and offering his hands out to pull her up. She accepted his help and they both briskly walked away without looking back at the scene.

They were going the wrong way to get home and had stumbled into a street market full of vendors selling all kinds of foods and trinkets and knick knacks. Ralph had never been to a market before as he usually got his servants to gather anything he wanted. Clothes shopping was the only time he went out for himself.

"Hungry?" She asked with a grin, eyeing him with amusement as his eyes darted from stall to stall.

"Yes… Yes, please!"

Y/N giggled, grabbing him by the wrist and pulling him forward, "Alright, come on then, big guy. Let's go find something."

While Ralph followed behind her blindly, he couldn't help but admire how elegant and graceful her movements were as she weaved through the crowd effortlessly. With her locks bouncing along with her footsteps, and her lips curved up at the corners in joy, he just couldn't tear his gaze away.

"I'm in the mood for some hot soup, you?" she queried, glancing back over her shoulder at him. Smiling brightly at her request, Ralph nodded his head enthusiastically as they started walking in the direction of a particular stand, where steam filled the air and wafted the scent of homemade broth towards them.

Still holding onto him, she ordered and paid for their food before he'd even realised what she was doing. Upon returning, they found a seat outside under a large oak tree that provided shade and privacy from all other people and occupied themselves by chatting for the remainder of their meal.

Despite having just met Y/N, he quickly grew accustomed to her presence and was able to keep himself entertained with her conversation during their lunchtime. Maybe all of his conquests were this interesting and he'd been so blinded by his infatuation to realise it, or maybe she was the most interesting of them all - that was the most likely in his head.

Once they were done, they stood and started the journey back home. As they passed more stalls, the pair got to the end and Ralph happened to notice a flower stall.

"Wait here," he told her before rushing up to the florist's stand while she stood awkwardly to the side waiting for him. He soon returned with a single yellow tulip in his hand, smiling sheepishly and holding it up for her to see. "For you."

Her eyes widened at his gesture, her cheeks reddening slightly as she gazed at the flower in wonder. "Thank you, Ralph," she murmured softly as she gently took it from him and tucked it behind her ear for safe keeping.

"I tried to buy more but I don't think that lady liked me," he confessed, laughing before clearing his throat and continuing, "My mother taught me that yellow tulips mean 'there's sunshine in your smile' and I never had use for that information until now."

Y/N shook her head fondly at his adorable confession, knowing that this boy was a genuine treasure inside and out. And that, combined with his sweet words of gratitude, were making her heart soar. It was a feeling she could get used to. It was a wonderful feeling.

So she gave his arm a squeeze, urging, "Let's get home, I need to put this in a vase before it wilts," and then led him back the way they came, leaving behind the hustle and bustle of the market.

As they neared their homes, however, she noticed that he was slowing down his pace. Not stopping, but slowing considerably. And not because he was tired, but because he wanted to stretch out their time together as long as possible.

Because he wanted to savour everything about this day. Because he wasn't ready to part ways yet and he wasn't sure if he'd ever have another chance like this again.

Then he did stop.

"Are you doing anything tomorrow? I'm in need of some new clothes and I was hoping for a second opinion." He came up with that on the spot, unsure of whether or not she would accept or not. "My sister usually helps but she's busy. Would you?"

"Of course I'll help. Just tell me when and where and I shall make myself available for you."

That was a better response than he'd ever imagined he could've received. Perhaps gaining her love really wasn't as hopeless as he may have previously believed.

They continued onwards and once they reached the entrance to her house, she hesitated slightly as though she wanted to say something. Before either of them could, however, she placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. "Goodbye," she whispered and hurried off up the steps.

He watched her leave until she disappeared behind her door, his mind wandering into a fantasy, a world where the woman he loved lived in the same house as him. And they spent everyday together like they had today, eating meals and enjoying each others' company and being together whenever they pleased.

A world where the only thing they needed was each other - no matter how many times they argued, no matter how many misunderstandings they had; nothing else would matter because they loved each other.

Yet, a pang of disappointment ran through him as reality sank in. She didn't love him. No, not yet.

└─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────┘

The pair spent so much time together over the next couple of weeks. Ralph would often seek her out in order to get some input into what she thought about just about everything, whether it was a topic she knew nothing about or if it was something she was passionate about.

It was the most fun and fulfilling relationship he'd had in awhile. In fact, it was so enjoyable he couldn't imagine wanting to break away from it anytime soon.

But, like all things in his life, Victoria put a stopper on it. For a while. She'd hosted a dinner party and forgot to tell her guests about the stomach bug she had acquired. A day later Ralph was puking his guts out with a fever and a pounding headache.

He'd told his servants to have a week off so he wouldn't get them sick too. Although Michael was resistant at first due to Ralph's total ineptitude in the kitchen, he was swayed when the compromise was for him to write a detailed step by step that his employer promised to follow to the letter.

Knocking on Ralph's door, Y/N heard a soft mumble from inside followed by the opening of a window. "I'm sorry, I'm really sick and I don't want to give it to you!" Ralph groaned miserably, trying to hide himself behind the curtain so she wouldn't see how rough he looked.

"Oh. Do you need anything? Food? Medicine? Name a thing, I'll go get it and give it to Michael when I get back?"

"I sent Michael home. Anna too. But I'm getting by without them. I'll be fighting fit in a few days, I'm sure."

While she knew Michael would've never left alone unless there was food left behind or a list of some sort, she didn't really care about that. He was sick. He needed taking care of. And she would gladly take care of him herself.

"Nonsense, I'm coming in."

Without wasting any time, she pushed open the door and marched inside, determined to do what she could to make him feel better. She very quickly saw what a state he was in - his skin was clammy, his hair dishevelled and greasy looking, his eyes puffy and bags underneath them. His lips were cracked and dry.

"Oh lovely, come here and let me look after you," she breathed, holding her hand out for him to hold onto. He didn't take it.

"You'll get sick."

She simply ignored him and grabbed onto his shoulders instead, forcing him further into the house until they reached the living room sofa, which she plopped him down upon. He protested weakly against her actions, but she was quick to make him lay down, checked his temperature with the back of hand and covered him up with a blanket that had been draped over the back of the couch.

"Stay."

He stared blankly at her for a moment, before shaking his head slowly and closing his eyes tightly. "No," he muttered quietly, his voice barely audible, "You're going to get sick. You shouldn't be-" She shushed him before reaching over to push a stray lock of hair off of his forehead.

"Try to get some rest. I'm going to cook you some food, okay? I'll bring it to you."

With that said, she left him lying in the living room, closed the door gently behind her and did as she said and went into the kitchen to prepare some food for the both of them and to hopefully try to ease his discomfort a little bit.

Now, she'd never been in his kitchen before and had no idea where anything was. She assumed that Ralph didn't have a clue either so asking him was useless. Actually, she probably had a better chance than he did.

Still, she got the job done. He'd left the recipe to make a jacket potato for today as Michael knew that it had to be simple enough for Ralph to follow. That was easy, she could do that with no troubles and soon was all done.

Slowly, she carried the plate over to the living room, careful not to drop anything as she placed it on the table before she gently shook his shoulder to wake him. "Hey sleepyhead, you hungry?" She cooed with a small chuckle when she saw him grumpily swatting at her hand, causing her to laugh even more. "I know, I know. But you need to eat something."

Opening one bleary eye, Ralph scrunched his face before letting out a heavy sigh, blinking a few times as he struggled to stay awake, "Fine."

Once he sat up, she placed the plate and utensils down on his lap, watching in amusement as he picked up the fork and scooped up the potatoes, shoving the food in his mouth with a complete lack of grace.

Again, she chuckled at him before settling down beside him on the sofa and waiting patiently, giving him space to devour his meal. "Don't you want some?" He questioned, looking up to meet her gaze and quickly realising that he'd made a complete mess and had potato down his chin. He wiped it away with the back of his sleeve but wasn't happy about it.

"I've already had lunch." She smiled at him as he gave her a small, apologetic smile in return. "Here. I can fix your face up."

He blinked a few times before nodding in compliance, allowing her to use a serviette to wipe away any bits that remained. And all he could do was stare at with tired, but somehow wide, lovestruck eyes, wondering whether or not he was hallucinating.

Her touch was gentle. Gentle, caring, tender. Almost loving. It felt natural and comforting. As though he could get used to this kind of affectionate behaviour. As though he could get accustomed to having someone care for him so deeply, someone who treated him as if he were important to her, someone who cared that much and wanted him to be happy.

"There we go, all handsome and clean again," she said, leaning back against the cushion and folding her arms beneath her head.

Then, he was sleepy again and soon his lids began to droop shut once more so she swiped his plate before it smashed to the ground. And as soon as everything was all cleaned up, she returned to the sofa, sitting with her legs crossed beneath her and reading a book he'd left on the coffee table.

Halfway through the first page, she was rather surprised when he all of sudden flopped his head into her lap and curled up against her, nuzzling up against her thigh and snuggling comfortably into it. She smiled softly as she stroked his hair gently, humming a lullaby to him as he drifted off to sleep.

And she stayed like that, caressing his hair as she continued reading, occasionally shifting her gaze towards him to ensure that he was still peacefully asleep. It was a strange feeling; not entirely unpleasant - he was a warm weight pressed up against her body and she almost wished that he could stay like that forever - but also unfamiliar to her.

Ralph slept soundly for most of the afternoon, waking up only every three or four hours when she would shake his shoulder lightly to urge him to take some medication. Everytime he seemed to wake up, he'd be totally dazed and confused, staring around the room for a bit before eventually focusing his attention on her once more, and smiling dopily at her.

"Medicine?"

She waited till he sat up and rested the back of her hand against his forehead. "Yeah, you're not as warm as you were when I got here and I assume it's the medicine." Y/N retrieved it from the kitchen and poured some thick, gloopy brown remedy on a spoon. "Here."

Honestly, it tasted gross. The texture was sticky, the colour dark and murky looking, but Ralph took the spoon nevertheless. He lifted it to his mouth and downed half of it in one a gulp, then promptly held his nose for the other half.

"It tastes foul."

"It looks foul," she agreed with a shrug. "But it makes you feel a little better so it's worth it."

Y/N tenderly brushed a curl that had fallen across his eye away from his forehead and smiled when he leant into her touch. "I should've guessed you'd be so cuddly when you're sick," she teased, giggling at the way he scrunched his nose at her comment.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to... I just..."

"I don't mind it. I think it's sweet."

"Oh. Can I -" Ralph opened his arms in an awkward gesture and she happily obliged, allowing him to curl up against her chest, burying his face against her neck while wrapping his hands loosely around her torso and hugging her tightly. "Thank you, and even though I did tell you to not come in so this will be your fault because you didn't listen to me, I apologise for the inevitable moment that you catch this bug."

"Apology accepted."

As they laid there wrapped up in each other's embrace, he couldn't help but notice how nice it felt to be close to her like this, like she truly cared for him and that she was willing to put herself through all the trouble to help him feel better. It made him feel special, which was never something he'd really felt before.

Victoria was the special one. Out of the twins, she was the one people liked or, at least, pretended to like. Ralph was there. He was the other sibling. He was the second part of 'Victoria, oh, and Ralph', the least important part of the duo.

But to Y/N, who had never met Victoria before, he was Ralph. Just Ralph.

"You're my favourite person in the entire world," he mumbled, sounding totally out of it as he tightened his arms around her waist. And before he could realise what he'd said and her reaction was, his mind drifted back into the throws of slumber.

After that day, she did get sick. Ralph, despite how hard he tried, was not as successful as she was at the whole thing. It got to the point when she had to whine, "Ralph, lovely, let me help you." And of course, he knew that was a better option.

So for the rest of their few days of sickness, she taught him how to do the most basic things in the kitchen, how to boil water, cut vegetables without injuring himself, cook an egg, open a tin of beans, and just general skills that he should have known by now.

Strangely, Ralph found himself quite enjoying himself and finding it fun. Even if he was pretty much useless in the kitchen, he enjoyed the domesticity of it. Of course, he couldn't deny that being ill was a hassle but it wasn't too bad when Y/N was around.

Michael couldn't believe his eyes when he returned home to find Ralph in the process of mixing some cake batter together with Y/N guiding him along and correcting his grip.

"Master Ralph, what are you doing?" he asked curiously as he looked at both of them with a bewildered look.

"Cake!" Ralph yelled excitedly, grinning widely at Michael. "We're making cake!"

"What?"

"It's a welcome home treat for you and Anna."

And when Anna returned, she couldn't believe it either. His servants never would've ever guessed that Ralph was capable of baking a delicious cake. Or baking at all.

By the time it was ready to come out of the oven, Y/N left as she had seriously neglected all the work she was supposed to have done, so with a quick goodbye she slipped her shoes on and hurried out the door.

"Ralph?"

"Yes Michael?"

"Did Miss L/N put you up to this?"

"Thought of it myself but Y/N did show me how."

Anna gave Michael a knowing smile and shook her head slightly, laughing to herself. That girl, Anna thought with amusement, that girl was so good for him. Ralph had always been sweet but lazy, so this was a great change.

Later that day, Victoria made an appearance and the first thing she said was, "Ralph, why on earth haven't you styled your hair?"

"Hello to you too, Victoria." Ralph rolled his eyes as he took her coat from her and hung it up on a hook by the door. "Would you like some carrot cake?"

Victoria ignored the question, instead giving him a quizzical look. She tilted her head side to side, studying his appearance, and her fingers twitched, almost instinctively reaching to smooth his hair into the way she wanted it. He immediately noticed and moved away from her touch.

"Shall we move to sit down?"

"We have much to talk about, don't we?"

Now, Ralph had no clue what they had to talk about. Since he'd moved out, she rarely visited him. They spoke on the phone, sure, but that usually consisted of Victoria spewing endless gossip - which Ralph would listen to with eager ears - but as soon as it was his turn to talk, she'd make up an excuse to hang up.

What Victoria actually wanted to talk about was their birthday party. After last year they knew there was no topping it, so how were they going to proceed? Some part of Ralph expected her to say something along the lines of: "Oh, Ralph, since you've moved out and we no longer are the dynamic duo we used to be, why don't we have separate birthday parties?"

But that was never going to happen.

The Penbury twins spent the entire evening talking about their plans and ideas for their upcoming birthday celebration. It was going well. Ralph played his part as the enthusiastic hype man for Victoria's ideas like he always did, nodding eagerly whenever she asked him questions.

All was civil until Victoria suddenly asked, "Why don't you bring that girl with you?" The energy shifted immediately.

"What girl?"

He knew exactly who she was referring to.

"The one Sonia always sees you walk with. Strange that I had to hear about my brother's new obsession through a third party." Her lips quirked upward ever so slightly. "Are you planning to invite Miss L/N?"

"I- I...I don't know."

That response threw Victoria a little off balance. Whenever Ralph would find himself with a new obsession, he usually would pester them until they gave in and accepted the request to whatever event he was inviting them to. This, however, sounded different.

All of a sudden, Victoria's face softened and she reached out to pat Ralph's hand. "I'd like to meet this girl who can put up with you, brother dear. You deserve to have a friend like that..." She paused momentarily. "...And I need to check if she's good enough for you."

"She is. She's too good for me. Too kind, too beautiful, too sweet." Ralph faltered a bit. "But we're not courting. No, not yet. I haven't said a thing about that but-"

"Who are you and what have you done with my brother?" Victoria teased, a surprised grin plastered across her face. Ralph lightly swatted at her arm as he shot her a playful glare. "Ow! What? You know what I mean."

Ralph sighed and then turned serious again as he quietly explained, "I do not want to mess this one up, Victoria. Y/N is everything I could wish for and more so the whole ordeal is rather nerve-wracking actually and, well, taking it slow is somewhat enjoyable - totally infuriating at times but we're progressing nicely."

He grinned sheepishly at the end, not being able to look into Victoria's eyes as she stared at him with a mixture of shock and disbelief. She'd been there for every one of his follies and, while he'd always been very flowery with his language towards the objects of his affection, he'd never taken the time to know them.

Typically, there never was a stage of 'progressing'. It was his infatuation, maybe some light stalking, then their inevitable rejection.

She was quiet for quite a while before finally saying, "You're really smitten, aren't you?"

Smitten? Yes, he definitely was. Very smitten. But also nervous. Nervous of ruining their friendship with Y/N, of messing everything up between them. He loved Y/N as a person and a romantic interest; he didn't want to screw that up.

"I'd be happy to stay by her side forever even if she couldn't see me in a romantic light because being around her is all I want." He swallowed hard and looked down at his hands. "If I'm doomed to only be her friend, I'd accept that with a smile as it means I'd still get the chance to be spending my life with someone I love."

Victoria nodded, her expression showing how proud she truly was of her brother as he finally understood what love and romance was.

"Well, good luck on getting her."

"I'm going to need it."

Meanwhile, Y/N was on the phone with her father. No matter how hard she tried, he was not giving up on the subject of marriage. He was still adamant that she should at least be engaged by the end of the year. Y/N knew the conversation was going nowhere fast but it seemed pointless to argue back at the point so she just pretended to listen, chiming in with occasional hums and okay's whenever it was needed.

Then he said, "Mr Andrews, you know him, the tailor who owns the Blue Poodle, well, he was very interested when I spoke about my beautiful daughter the other day. And, you know, he wants me to introduce his son to you so you two -"

Y/N stiffened.

"No." she cut him off.

"Come now, darling," he argued, sounding annoyed that she wouldn't just let him speak. "Do you want to be a spinster? Because that would truly be an awful fate for you, and your dear old dad doesn't want to see that."

She sighed in frustration but then a flash of an idea popped up.

"Are you familiar with the younger Penbury? His name is Ralph... and he proposed to me, um, yes-yesterday afternoon and -"

"And?" Her father urged, a type of enthusiasm she'd never heard before in his voice.

"I said I'd think about it."

"You're saying yes."

It was more of a statement than a question.

"I...yes. Maybe."

"Excellent! Brilliant! Just bloody brilliant. I'll inform Mr Andrews that you'd love to but have, fortunately, your hand promised to another."

Even through the phone she could feel the relief pouring out of him like a flood. There was a small pause as he continued to let everything sink in and then he finally said, "Alright then. Alright then, my dear, make sure you confirm the proposal as soon as you can so that we can plan accordingly."

Just before he put the phone down, he breathed a happy, "I'm so proud of you," and Y/N found herself smiling involuntarily, a laugh tumbling from her lips.

"Shit."

Why had she done that? How would she bring up the subject to Ralph?

Every possible way she could mess up swam through her mind as she tried to sleep that night, tossing and turning as she tried desperately to come up with a solution. The best one? Just telling him the truth. She should tell him straight up and they'd decide on how to proceed together.

A loud groan escaped her mouth as she held a pillow over her face, muffling the sound. Her eyes squeezed shut tight as she forced herself to go to sleep, hoping that her dreams would somehow ease her mind. They didn't. In fact, they were more anxiety inducing as she thought of what awaited her in the morning.

The next morning came faster than Y/N anticipated. With nerves racing through her veins, she went about her morning until the dreaded moment arrived. And she was so far in her head that Ralph had to knock a jaunty little tune on her door to pull her attention away.

With a deep breath, she took a quick glance at her reflection in the window before opening her front door. As predicted, Ralph stood there wearing a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye.

"Hi," he greeted softly.

"I, uh, I have something to tell you, would you mind coming in for a moment? Just for a minute."

Without waiting for any sort of reply, she stepped aside and gestured for Ralph to make his way inside. Then she closed the door behind him and leaned against it.

"I think we should sit, would you like to sit?"

"Are you doing okay? Is something wrong?" Ralph's brows creased together as he searched her eyes for an answer to his unspoken questions.

"...Yeah. Yeah, yeah. Everything's fine. Um, we need to talk."

Confusion crossed his features but he went with it nonetheless, letting out a faux casual, "Oh, I had something to speak to you about too, although this seems more important." The two of them took a seat on the couch, staring at each other for a couple seconds. Y/N shifted uncomfortably in her spot and her leg started bouncing up and down in anxiousness until Ralph gently placed his hand on her knee to calm her.

"Thank you," she whispered and gave him a grateful smile. "I've told you before about how my father keeps trying to set me up with a husband."

Shit, had she finally been pushed into a marriage? He began to spiral. If she had a husband would she want to see him anymore? Would she be allowed? Obviously, her betrothed would take one look at lovesick Ralph and figure him out.

"You may have mentioned it once or twice."

His tone was trying to be neutral, but it was an awful attempt at hiding the concern that was clearly present in his features.

"Well. It's... it's nothing that serious, I swear. Just...just promise not to laugh at me?"

"Okay."

"No, you've got to promise." She pleaded. "Please don't laugh at me."

He laughed at the desperation he could hear in her voice and it made her smile, despite the nervous butterflies that were currently fluttering around in her stomach. "I promise," Ralph reassured her, his thumb caressing her knee in a comforting manner.

"I may have told a little white lie to my father when I spoke to him last night."

"Oh?"

"I, uh, there was a moment when I blurted out that Mr Ralph Penbury had got down on one knee and asked for my hand in marriage."

Ralph yelped in delight, unable to hide his happiness, and slapped a hand over his mouth to try and stop himself. She chuckled quietly at his reaction and shook her head in amusement.

Once he managed to compose himself enough to say something coherent again, he beamed, "And what did you say your response was? Am I to be your lawfully wedded husband?" and let out a giggle.

"You promised not to laugh at me," she reminded him, playfully rolling her eyes.

"I'm not laughing at you!" he assured her as a noise that resembled a laugh was still being omitted from him. He was being smug, and he knew it. "I swear. Just keep talking! Please!"

"I... I might have implied that I was prepared to say yes."

Ralph's heart skipped a beat and he felt the blood rush to his cheeks. This was it. Was this actually happening? He wasn't dreaming, was he?

She saw how he was about to let another laugh loose and held her finger accusingly at him. "Don't," Y/N warned, barely holding back a smile herself, her own amusement clear on her expression. "Anyway, I understand if you want me to call this off before it's even begun."

"No!" Ralph quickly shook his head, his hands moving to hold onto Y/N's, their fingers intertwined as he looked deeply into her eyes. "This could be a good thing. We could marry, get our parents off our backs, and we'd live our lives as we do now. The only difference is that legally you'd be... you'd... you'd be my wife on paper."

"Only on paper?"

"If that's what you want."

Her smile softened as she realised exactly what he meant. He was offering a marriage of convenience; not a traditional marriage but a 'friend' marriage.

"What do you want?" she asked softly, feeling almost shy all of a sudden, her fingers squeezing his.

And he had the perfect answer. One that he believed in with all of his body and soul. "I just want you to be happy."

She blinked in surprise at the sincerity evident in his tone and couldn't help but lean forward to press a lingering kiss to his cheek to say her thanks. His face turned bright red and he stared at her, dumbfounded by the gesture.

Y/N's hand came up to cradle his cheek, her thumb affectionately caressing his skin. "Let's get married then, Mr Penbury," she cooed teasingly, causing the poor boy's face to grow ten times brighter.

"Let's!" he chirped, jumping to hug her tightly around her waist, which caused her to squeak and immediately reciprocate the embrace.

His joy was palpable in every part of his body, he was vibrating with excitement at the mere prospect of marrying someone he loved, his thoughts racing with plans for the future. He could hardly believe the luck he'd been given today.

"What did you want to talk to me about?" she asked after pulling away slightly but keeping her hands on his biceps.

"Hmm? Oh, yes right!" he said distractedly, snapping his mind back to reality and taking a deep breath. "It's nothing important, I just wanted to invite you to my birthday party. It's not next Saturday but the Saturday after. So if you're free..."

"Of course! What time?"

Honestly, he knew she'd say yes. But hearing it was quite the treat for him.

"It officially starts at seven."

"Seven. I'll be there at seven, then." She grinned excitedly as she pulled her hands away from his arms. "Is there a dress code? A theme?"

"Victoria named it 'Glitz and Glamour' and that just means dress as nice as you can."

"Got it," she nodded, her grin widening to match his.

He rose to his feet and held his hands out to pull her along with him. "Shall we continue onto our daily walk, my lovely fiancé?"

"Absolutely."

With a bright smile plastered across her face and a skip in her step, she happily obliged to follow his lead. Together, they exited the house and made their way down the steps.

Throughout their stroll, the two of them talked nonstop and the topic rarely strayed from their engagement. Even though he'd heard all about her reluctance towards matrimony, her excitement spoke a different story.

And almost as if she was reading his mind, she admitted, "I never thought that I'd ever get married."

A disbelieving chuckle escaped his lips. "Really? Never?" He questioned incredulously.

"Not in a million years," she chuckled back. "Every man I've ever been introduced me to ends up demanding that I become a housewife and give up any shred of independence I'd ever had."

She paused for a few seconds to consider her words carefully before continuing, "I don't know if you've spied this, but sometimes I look around at the couples in our types of circles and think 'you don't even bloody like each other as people, as individuals, why are you together?'"

As she spoke, her hands gestured wildly as if she posing some big, grand theory to him and he was enthralled. Totally and utterly gripped by every single word that left her mouth.

"Some fellas are awful to their wives. Just awful. I know we haven't had the vote for long and there's still push needed for all women to have a voice - maybe it is childish of me - but I thought that would make men realise that women aren't dolls that exist to look at, or baby making machines, or a hand to marry because her daddy is a lawyer or a Duke or a politician. We're people."

Ralph was nodding along. The strongest people in his life were women. His mother frequently kept his father in check. Victoria didn't listen to anyone but herself. Anna would frequently boss Michael around. And Y/N was having a feminist rant openly on a bustling London street. He fully believed in everything she was saying.

"Until I met you, no man other than my father has tried to know me."

Suddenly, Ralph remembered how he'd wished for their love story to be quick. He wanted her to fall desperately and passionately in love with him before he'd even spoken to her for more than five minutes. She was the object of his affection. Object. Not person.

Michael was a Saint for pushing him to see her as a full human rather than a pretty girl that made his heart skip.

So, all he could say was, "I'm so glad that I took the time to get to know you," and tentatively inched his hand closer to hers until his pinkie brushed against her skin, a silent question if it was okay for him to hold her hand. Her cheeks flushed lightly before she gave him a small nod of approval and intertwined hands as they walked side by side.

└─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────┘

Being engaged was weird. Mostly a good weird. But still weird.

As soon as the pair informed both sets of their parents, things became more serious. When it was just the two of them, just Y/N and Ralph daydreaming about what their wedding would be like, it seemed exciting and limitless.

But real life has limits. And parents don't like the idea that 'everyone in the wedding party has to learn a complex tap dancing routine' because that's supposedly 'a lot of extra work that old fogies like us can't do'.

Y/N knew that the reality of their engagement would be, well, real. She couldn't even dance so that whole tap routine was a pipe dream of Ralph's that she wished she could accomplish for him.

Yet, no matter how dampened their spirits were, the couple still held that same amount of fervour when they discussed future plans. All they wanted was to have fun with each other, to be happy with each other till death do they part.

Still, first on the agenda was Ralph and Victoria's birthday party.

So, Ralph and his fiancé - which was something he called Y/N whenever he got the chance - were out on the town and searching for the perfect outfits to wear. Ralph was the star of the party so they searched high and low for the perfect suit for him.

"Lovely, I think that one - just like the last thirty you've shown me - makes you look so handsome," Y/N said, her head resting on her hand as she stared at him.

If she was being honest, she was a little bored. They were already in the shop for nearly an hour, looking over everything but not finding anything that he deemed suitable, so they'd probably be there for another hour.

"Handsome isn't enough, my darling, I need to look perfect," he insisted, smiling at her while holding up a grey tuxedo and looking at himself in the mirror. "Perfect, but also sophisticated."

She chuckled, rolling her eyes as she stood and made her way before him. "Why is your current suit not suiting?" She asked, adjusting his cuffs and smoothing down the sleeves.

"It's boring."

"It is."

"But if I choose a fun colour, I certainly won't look sophisticated. I'm in a pickle." He sighed. "A real pickle."

Despite how dramatic Ralph was, Y/N always tried to fix the problem. She'd chuckle at him then thought what was the easiest way to get the best of both worlds. She knew he could be somewhat childish sometimes, but she found it funny nonetheless.

"Pick a colour."

"Oooooh, umm.... Green!"

With that answer, Y/N found a clerk and tapped him on the shoulder, who turned around to face them with a bright smile, "What may I help you with?"

"Do you sell a green suit? Maybe a hunter or an olive or a dark green? Do you have anything particularly greenish, something that makes a mild statement?"

The man nodded and began rummaging through the racks. His fingers moved swiftly, and eventually, a few moments later, his face brightened. "I believe I do have something that suits your needs, Miss," he said as he brought out a fern green suit that was different enough that it would stand out as such but muted that it wasn't outlandish.

And Ralph loved it immediately. The colour complimented his pale skin perfectly and added a touch of elegance to his overall demeanour. "I think this is it," he told Y/N as he picked the garment up and examined it closely. "I've got to try it on!"

"Go ahead, lovely," she replied, smiling warmly at him as he disappeared into the changing rooms. She turned to the tailor. "I expect we'll be buying that one," she told him as he nodded.

"Very well, ma'am."

In the end, Ralph did buy that suit. Obviously, it needed some slight tailoring to make it fit perfectly but Ralph was sold. He liked the way it made him look - grown but still vibrant, mature yet carefree. He felt like an adult now. A very grown up adult that was going to get married in a couple of months.

Originally, the shopping trip had been for Ralph. They both knew he was particular and it would take a while until he found something acceptable and fashionable enough. Yet, as they were walking in through the shopping district, Ralph stopped in place and pointed at a dress in the store window.

"That is perfect for you, my darling, let's get that one."

Before she even had a chance to reply, he was pulling her into the shop. "Come on, come on," he urged, tugging on her arm until they were at the counter. The cashier smiled brightly at them.

"Good afternoon, sir and madam! How may I help you today?"

"That dress, the robes de style one in the middle of the storefront, would it be possible for my fiancé to try it on?" Ralph answered for them.

"Yes, absolutely!" The cashier chirped excitedly and rushed to take the dress off the mannequin and bring it over to Y/N. But before she handed it over, the cashier held it up to Y/N's body, inspecting how it would look on her closely.

After a few moments of contemplation, she grinned and placed the garment in Y/N's hands. "You should definitely try this on. It will look wonderful on you, miss." She gave Y/N a wink. "I'm sure you'll love it."

"Thank you."

Y/N changed into the outfit, hoopskirt and all, and took a deep breath before stepping outside, ready to show it off to Ralph. When she finally emerged from the dressing room, he beamed at her, stunned speechless. Her dress was a long dark green gown decorated with white flowers that flowed loosely from the waist down, falling in graceful waves to the floor.

"Please say something," She teased once Ralph regained control of his tongue. He didn't, however, speak. He just continued to look in awe at her.

"Wow, Y/N... That's..." He trailed off, trying to find the right words for his feelings. He'd never seen something so beautiful before. It was almost breathtaking.

So stunning that he couldn't quite comprehend why a person like Y/N would want to spend the rest of her life by his side. "I don't know how to describe it," he confessed, "I simply cannot express how stunning you look."

His voice sounded shaky, maybe a little too soft, maybe a little too sincere. In spite of that, Y/N still blushed at his kind compliment and moved to check herself out in a mirror. Her fingers played with the fabric of her skirt as she gazed at her reflection, feeling overwhelmed.

"Are you sure I look okay? I don't want to embarrass myself in front of your family and friends-"

"Okay? No, you don't look okay. You look perfect."

"Ralph-"

Getting to his feet, Ralph wrapped his arms gently around Y/N's waist and brought her back against his chest, leaning his chin upon her shoulder. "Hey, look at me," he insisted, tilting her chin so she'd catch his eye. "Your beauty rivals any star in the sky. You give Aphrodite something to worry about when you're out there walking around the streets in your dailies, so imagine the headache she'll get when you're seen in this.

A flustered giggle bubbled past her lips, a smile spreading across her face as a blush grew deeper on her cheeks. "You really are too sweet," she whispered as she closed her eyes and took a breath.

As Y/N opened her eyes, she saw another customer watching them curiously. The woman looked familiar and Y/N couldn't figure out where she'd seen them before. In the mirror, Ralph followed his fiancé's eyeline and yelped, "Oh! Sonia, hi!"

"Raphael."

The pair disconnected their embrace and stood up straight, facing the lady. "Sonia, this is Y/N, my soon to be wife," Ralph introduced them with a strained grin.

Sonia was silent for a second before reaching forward to shake Y/N's hand. "Nice to meet you Y/N."

"It's nice to meet you too." She replied, smiling politely and glancing at Ralph, who was standing awkwardly beside her and scratching the nape of his neck nervously.

"It's a miracle that Raphael found someone. You'd never believe how many times we found him trying to sneak into our girls' night when we were young," Sonia chuckled, shaking her head as she let go of Y/N's hand and took a step back. "Remember when you proposed to me?"

"I, uh... I don't recall," Ralph mumbled, suddenly remembering how that particular evening had happened.

"Surely you remember. You got down on one knee, managed to squish my cat and ran away when my father came to see what all the fuss was about."

Ralph laughed awkwardly, "Yeah... I remember that."

Beside him, Y/N slid her hand in his and gave him a reassuring squeeze, which caused him to look back at her. She offered a small smile and that was all he needed in order to calm down.

"Well, I'm glad you turned him down," Y/N added, "You left him open for me to snap up, so thank you for that."

Then Sonia scoffed. She scoffed. Like she couldn't believe what she was hearing. Like Ralph wasn't a catch. So, Y/N gently ran her hand up and down his arm in a comforting manner, hoping that it would ease some of his tension. And she succeeded, because soon, his shoulders relaxed considerably.

"Where's your ring?" Sonia asked, nodding towards the lack of engagement band adorning the bride's finger.

Now that was something they'd completely forgotten about. But not to worry, Y/N lied, "It's being resized as we speak. You seemed to think I had daintier fingers than I actually do, didn't you, my darling?"

My darling. He felt lightheaded as she said it, her words bringing a warmth to his heart and a flush to his cheeks. He couldn't help grinning widely at her, unable to stop himself from nodding like a fool.

"Well, I should go take this off so we can pay for it. Would you mind helping me with the zip, lovely? It's definitely a two person task," she asked Ralph and guided him towards the changing room. Over her shoulder, Y/N called back, "Goodbye Sonia, hope we see you at the party."

When the pair were firmly behind the changing room curtain, Ralph let out a sigh of relief and leaned against the wall, covering his face with both hands. As his heart beat slowly slowed to its regular rhythm again, he heard Y/N chuckle quietly. He peeked through his fingertips at the sound of her quiet laughter.

"What's so funny?"

"I think she was trying to make me jealous."

"Did it work?"

"A little."

Gently, she removed his hands from his face and smiled softly up at him. For a moment, neither of them spoke and Ralph realised his gaze was fixed entirely on her lips. His eyes then drifted downward until they rested upon her mouth and then, slowly, he leaned in towards her.

Yet, before he could reach her lips, the cashier had been directed towards the changing rooms and warned, "Mr and Miss Penbury, I'm afraid we don't permit men to go back there."

They pulled back hastily at the realisation of their mistake and immediately apologised as Ralph rushed away. As the curtain moved, the cashier could clearly see that Y/N was still fully clothed - despite the fact that a concerned customer (Sonia) had told her that the Penbury's were planning on scandalising the changing room - and explained, "Sorry, ma'am, I just needed help with the zip."

Because that part actually hadn't been a lie.

"I'll help you then, miss."

Soon, Y/N was back in her normal clothes and the dress had been paid for. After thanking the cashier for the trouble, Ralph and Y/N walked out together with their respective party clothes and a flush to their cheeks.

Had they really almost kissed?

Ralph had thought about it plenty of times during the course of their time together, but had never acted on the urge before. At the moment, however, he was finding it hard to ignore the temptation to pull her close and press his lips against hers. And it was only getting harder.

"I was thinking we could stop off at the jewellers, get you a ring, then head to mine to relax a bit," he suggested hopefully, pulling Y/N from her thoughts.

"Don't you think we've spent enough money today?" She teased playfully, her fingers playing idly with the hem of his shirt as they wandered along the pavement.

"Let me spoil you." He wrapped his arm around her waist once more and squidged her towards him. "Please?"

Like he usually did, he looked at her with those big beautiful brown eyes that always made her melt. She sighed in defeat, knowing how futile her attempts at getting out of this would be. It was almost impossible to refuse his request.

Especially since, deep down inside, she knew that she'd spend hours gazing at her new engagement ring.

"Fine! Fine! Let's go get a ring."

Within seconds of them passing the threshold of the jewellers, Ralph was exclaiming, "Show me the most expensive engagement ring you sell, dear sir!" and was promptly smacked on the arm.

"He doesn't mean that."

"I certainly do."

The pair walked up to one of the display cases and gazed at all the shiny objects within it. And thanks to his declaration, the jeweller came straight up to them. After a long winded sales pitch, they were guided to the case that held the engagement rings with the most expensive on the right hand side and least on the left. Ralph, obviously, went to the right.

"My wife will get the best of the best." He reached out and grabbed her arm to pull her in front of him and ensure they were both looking in the same section. And as he peered over her shoulder, he whispered under his breath, "Because she deserves it."

Y/N's ears perked up, but she decided to keep quiet and, instead, she focused her attention on the rings. They were beautiful pieces, to be sure, though she had to admit that the more expensive ones looked heavy and clunky and just generally too show offish - which rich people tended to like - but it wasn't their taste.

"Don't you think they're a bit garish?" she whispered back to him, gesturing to the rings that they were currently looking at.

"Maybe...that one does look like you need to lift some weights to be able to carry it."

In synchrony, the pair took a step to the left. Almost immediately, Y/N's eye caught a glimpse of a beautiful band and pointed to it, saying, "What about that one?"

The jeweller was already unlocking the case to take the object in question out. The ring was almost like a flower as the main jewel in the middle was surrounded by ten small teardrop gems, five on either side.

"Here, this piece is called the Matilda. It's a halo style and comes in both a 14k/18k white gold or a platinum band. As you can see there is a two carat colour H diamond circled by ten Agate gemstones," the jeweller explained whilst delicately tracing each part of the ring he was talking about. "Many people believe that Agate is 'the stone of happiness’ and that it can help strengthen love, so you can guarantee that your marriage will be a happy one with this ring on your finger."

While that was a bold claim to make, they were both sold. The ring was gorgeous, to say the least, and Ralph was determined to have it. With a grin plastered across his features, he tucked his down to give his fiancé a kiss on the cheek and confirmed, "This is the one."

Then they got on with an incredibly long winded process, which she assumed the jeweller was purposely asking so many additional questions in the hope Ralph would spend more money than he needed to, and came out of the shop with the knowledge that in a few days her ring would be all perfect and ready.

"You're going to let me pay half," she matter of factly told him once they were on their walk home.

"Absolutely not."

"But-"

"Y/N."

"Ralph."

"I'm not going to let you pay for your own engagement ring."

Despite how cutely she was pouting, he wasn't going to give in on this. If anything, he thought she was far too adorable when she tried to act stubbornly. He'd never tire of it.

"Then let me pay you back for our clothes."

"But-"

"Ralph."

"Okay, okay, you win." He conceded reluctantly. "As you wish."

Smiling gratefully, she looped her arm through his and walked the remainder of their journey as they usually did. Then, as they turned the corner of their street, Y/N let out a "Oh no" when she saw a familiar car parked outside her apartment. Her dad stood tall and proud as he knocked on her front door.

"You could always do a loop if you don't want to meet my father yet," Y/N offered as she gestured towards him.

"I'll have to meet him at some point, why not now?" He shrugged and started forward. "It's only polite."

Okay, so he was doing this. Ralph, filled with a mass amount of confidence for reasons that were completely unknown to him, dragged Y/N along the pavement until they reached her father, where he chirped, "Hello, Mr L/N, sir. Nice to finally meet you."

"And you as well, Mr Penbury."

Ralph noticed the brief flash of something that appeared briefly in his eyes; although that quickly changed when Y/N said, "Well, come on in," as she pushed past both men to let herself into the house. The men didn't hesitate to follow suit and after they had shed their coats, Ralph offered to warm up the tea (which she had to show him how to do a week or so prior) while the L/N's got settled on the couch.

"Dear, you shouldn't make your guests do the tea making."

"Ralph is hardly a guest anymore." However, she did get up to help him since "I put the sugar in a different cupboard than last time, now that I think about it. I'll be right back."

Like he was a statue, Ralph stood completely still. He was so deeply in thought that he didn't even notice Y/N coming up behind him until she rested her chin on his shoulder and softly purred, "I can do it myself, if you like. Go ahead and sit down."

At first, Ralph felt slightly flustered by the touch, but he managed to regain himself in a split second and, with a sheepish smile that seemed to light up his whole face, moved his feet a few steps closer to the couch and sat down next to Mr L/N.

"I apologise for not asking for your permission before I proposed, really, I just... I was just so excited that I couldn't stop thinking about it." His nervous laugh brought a smile to Mr L/N’s face. "That must have sounded terribly stupid to you, but-"

"No, not at all. I understand perfectly," Mr L/N assured him kindly. "And honestly, it was quite sweet. I can tell that she's quite taken by you too."

Tea tray in hand, Y/N returned back to the living room just as Ralph had opened his mouth to speak again. She smiled brightly as she poured him his drink and whatever he was going to say drifted away.

"Still take two sugars, pa?"

"Hasn't changed in years and I doubt it will ever change."

Asking Ralph how he took his tea was unneeded because she knew exactly what he liked, and did it without fuss. Her father was about to bring up how she'd given Ralph what he thought was a thoughtless cup but stopped as soon as the boy took a sip and praised, "Perfect. As always," with that goofy expression that he seemed to give Y/N so often.

Mr L/N had been in the couple's presence for less than five minutes and he had a firm grasp on the way the young couple interacted. There was an ease between them that spoke volumes; there was affection and comfort that only grew more apparent with every passing minute.

"Squidge over, mister."

Y/N patted Ralph on the thigh so he'd give her some space to sit down and, once he complied, the girl leaned against her fiance's side as she sipped from her own mug.

"Onto business, huh?"

For the next hour or so, the trio spoke about just about anything - from the wedding to the Penbury theatre to where the best tennis courts were in the surrounding area - and Ralph felt included immediately in every conversation they had. Mr L/N allowed Ralph to say his opinion without fear of being interrupted or judged for it.

When all was said and done, Mr L/N slapped his thighs and said, "Best be going before your mother starts worrying. I don't want to get in trouble with her. Word for the wise, Ralph, don't get on the wrong side of L/N women, they can get extremely fierce."

He chuckled at that and replied, "I wouldn't dream of it."

The man then extended his hand to shake Ralph's and gave him an encouraging smile. "Look after my daughter - she can be stubborn but that doesn't mean she's right all the time - humble her a bit, will you?" He joked, earning a playful punch to the shoulder by his daughter. "See? Fierce."

"I'll try," Ralph replied sincerely with a smirk on his face as Y/N rolled her eyes at him playfully.

"Good!" Mr L/N then grabbed his coat and headed out the door.

Once it closed behind him, Y/N turned to face Ralph with a faux offended expression. "You'll try to humble me, will you, Raphael?" she jeered, barely holding her amusement back.

"That's not even my name!" he cried defensively and only let himself relax when she smiled. "I really thought I was in the dog house then."

Chuckling, she went to clear away the cups, but was stopped with firm hands on her waist when Ralph wrapped his arms around her to pull her back into a hug before she had the chance to escape. He'd done that a lot today and would continue to do so as long as she was comfortable with it. And it seemed she didn't mind it too much since she relaxed in his embrace.

"You know, I think my dad might like you more than he likes me," she complimented with a giggle as she tilted her head back onto his shoulder. "You are so charming."

"I suppose I am, aren't I?" he replied smugly, a little self conscious but also secretly pleased at the compliment nonetheless.

She turned in his arms so they were facing each other and looked deep intently into his eyes. "You've charmed me too," she said slowly before leaning in to hug him back. His arms tightened around her instantly and he breathed a sigh of relief as she nuzzled her nose against his chest in order to hide her shy smile.

Maybe she wasn't faking anymore. Maybe she never had.

He was quite disappointed when she pulled back from his embrace after a moment and cleared his throat awkwardly to gain his composure as she set about putting everything away. But he quickly brushed it aside.

It was fine. He didn't actually want to hug her anymore. Yeah. That was enough for him. It's not as if he was addicted to her touch or anything, anyway. Not that it mattered. He could handle the rejection.

"Y/N, um…" Ralph began hesitantly as he trailed off, unsure of what to say next.

"Hmm?" she hummed, not looking up as she placed the finery on the tray and began to return it to her cupboards. He trailed behind her quietly as she made it to the kitchen.

At that moment, he decided that his heart should just go ahead and beat out of his chest for good measure and just let him do it.

"I was wondering…" he trailed off once again, unable to find the right words. Why was it so hard? Why couldn't he just blurt it out?

And she obviously noticed his apprehension. She turned around so she was looking curiously at him and tilted her head slightly to ask why he was having difficulty speaking.

"Is everything alright, lovely?"

"Uh… yep! Yep. You're okay, right? I mean, you don't need to worry. Of course. Yes. Uh..."

She giggled as he continued bumbling over his words, seemingly not knowing where to start. He felt himself blush lightly, embarrassed by how badly he'd stuttered, and tried to cover it by clearing his throat a few times. Y/N watched patiently as he tried to gather his thoughts.

"Forget it, I'm sorry, I'm just acting silly," he mumbled after taking another moment to breathe and focus his thoughts better.

"Come here."

Y/N held out her arms towards him and he hesitated only a moment longer before stepping towards her to wrap his arms around her tightly. Her hands ran along his back soothingly as he buried his face into her neck, letting her scent wash over him. A content purr came from his throat.

"What's wrong?" she whispered, stroking his hair gently as he relaxed further into her embrace.

"Nothing's wrong, I promise. It's just... wanted another hug but I didn't want to come across as too needy or weird or something-" He stopped before it turned into a full ramble that would cause him to blurt every single thought he'd ever had about Y/N in one go. He'd expected an angry response, a disgusted remark, something unfavourable but all she did was continue to hold him close and soothingly scratch all the worries away from his head with her fingers. He loved this woman so much.

They stayed like that for a while until he felt calmer again, and although he was still a little worried that she had found him annoying, he felt safe and warm in her arms. At the same time, he realised that maybe it had been silly to act that way. After all, he did love her and she clearly loved him too, no matter if he believed it was two different kinds of love. He just got lost in his own head for a little too long.

As he pulled away from their embrace, he gave her a smile that assured her that he was fine and that he appreciated her comforting touch. "I better get home. Michael is making dinner soon," he murmured, pecking her on the forehead and heading towards his coat and shopping bag to grab both things before walking to his apartment.

Half in, half out of her door, she attempted to kiss him on the cheek but he was in the process of turning to bid her goodbye. Their lips collided, though, which resulted in a small gasp coming from his mouth. She made a sound that seemed like a laugh, whether it was one of surprise or confusion is anyone's guess. Maybe both.

Probably both.

"Oh! I'm sorry!"

"No, no, it was my fault!"

His cheeks had taken on a rosy tint and his hands were rubbing nervously at the back of his neck. Yet, Y/N reached up a hand to caress his cheek softly. "Maybe we should get used to that. Married couples kiss all the time, don't they?" She posed, and he could've been mistaken but she sounded rather coy about that suggestion.

The boy shook his head in disbelief at that statement, though he couldn't stop the corners of his lips from twitching up into a wide grin.

"Only if you're comfortable with it."

To show how comfortable she was, Y/N leant forward to plant her lips squarely on his in an affectionate, yet chaste kiss. This one lasted only a few seconds before they separated and stared at each other with matching smiles, neither of them saying a word as Ralph, dazed and poor lovesick Ralph, stumbled in the general direction of his house.

Somehow he made it to his house without tripping or falling over. Somehow he managed to open his door and stumble inside.

Michael's eyes widened as he saw the state Ralph was in. The look on his face was almost comical considering the situation as he stood frozen with his mouth agape, staring in complete amazement.

"Ralph?"

"Y/N kissed me." Ralph blurted, still somewhat out of it and still looking stunned.

"Ah."

Obviously. Fucking duh. Of course that's why he was acting that way.

"Let's get you somewhere you can lie down."

Ralph was guided to the sofa and helped lay down on it where he would stay until his brain came back online again.

└─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────┘

Victoria and Ralph's party came in a blink of an eye and since Y/N and Ralph were making their first big appearance as a couple, they decided that getting ready together was a great idea

"Lovely, do you mind helping with the zip? I really don't know how I managed to do it in the shop," Y/N called out for him when he was finished buttoning his shirt in the next room.

Ralph was there in an instant. He almost tripped over his own feet as he rushed to her aid and quickly adjusted the zipper on her dress before he stepped back and admired her from behind.

"Do you think I should wear my hair up or down?" she asked, looking at herself in the mirror as she fiddled with one lock of her hair that had fallen in front of her face. She had put on a little makeup to compliment her outfit. It wasn't too much, but enough that Ralph couldn't look away once he'd gotten his first good view.

"Either way, you are a marvel of beauty."

She turned to face him and took her time to take his appearance in. His hair was perfectly combed, his clothes impeccable, and most importantly he seemed happy and excited, that's all she could really focus on. It was rare that Ralph let anything get him down, but he seemed jittery - or more jittery than usual - about this whole thing.

"You look pretty," she breathed and reached to fiddle with his collar just because she wanted to touch him. Ralph caught her hand in midair, pulled her close so she could smell his cologne, and rested his forehead against hers. "You're pretty like a Prince. You look beautiful."

Because he did. His hair was fluffy and wavy. There wasn't even a strand out of place. His skin looked flawless. His dimples were incredibly prominent when he smiled, which was all the damn time. And those eyes... They were so deep and so warm. He looked soft, but strong; it was different yet, at the same time, so familiar.

Once again, his gaze was travelling down from her eyes, lower and lower again.

A knock on the door brought them out of the moment, and it broke whatever spell they had been under. Ralph immediately released her arm and stepped away, but not before shooting her a smile that made her heart pound and her stomach do a weird flip.

Michael stood on the other side of the wood and wasn't all that surprised when Ralph opened Y/N's door. "I hope I didn't interrupt anything important?" he said and shot both Y/N and Ralph some kind of knowing look that didn't go unnoticed by either of them.

Y/N bit the inside of her cheek and tried her best to hide a smirk. Ralph's eyebrows raised. He knew Michael wouldn't let anything slip about his feelings for her, but he did wish his servant would stop making it so bloody obvious.

"Is it a crime to help my fiancé with her dress, Michael?" Ralph jeered, crossing his arms over his chest with a smile plastered on his face.

"Not at all." Michael gave them a sickly sweet smile. "The car will be here in thirty." Then, directly at Y/N, he added, "And I brought in what you asked me to, Miss Y/N. They're in the sitting room."

"Thank you, Michael."

Almost as quickly as he'd arrived, Michael left with a chuckle and the couple were by themselves once more. Ralph looked at Y/N expectantly.

"Finish getting ready and meet me in the sitting room."

Ralph, obviously, did as she said. The sound of his heels clicking on the wooden floor echoed in the quiet hallway as he returned to his room to continue the final pieces of his outfit. Admittedly, there wasn't much for him to do and he was waiting in the sitting room for Y/N to arrive.

In no time at all, Y/N joined him. As soon as she caught sight of him, she knew he was restraining himself in an effort to not open the very obvious gifts she'd had Michael place on the coffee table. He'd taken the middle seat on the sofa, which was the one directly in front of the stack of presents. He kept his hands on his knees while his fingers fidgeted.

Walking behind the sofa, she leant down next to his ear, whispered softly. "It's okay, you can open them now," and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before settling in beside him and watching as Ralph tore into each present. She was pleased to see how his expression lit up with delight every time he unwrapped the gift.

"How did you know?" He stared at her with wide eyes and waved a tray of paints excitedly.

"Because I know you."

In all their time together, Ralph rarely brought up art. But when he did, he got a certain look in his eye. A longing. Like he missed painting so badly and had been prohibited from doing so. So, she knew. He didn't need to say it.

"I gave it up because my father said I was wasting my time. He got one of the servants to sell my equipment at the flea market," he told her and looked down at the next present she'd placed in his lap. His cheeks flushed a slight pink. "Then, well, it just became something I didn't have the tools to do anymore...until now."

A small shy grin appeared on his lips as he opened another present. She'd gotten him so many art supplies. Paints. Pencils. A sketchbook or two. Canvases. An easel - which was very obvious in its wrapping. Whatever he needed for his art, Y/N had gone out of her way to get it for him.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" he gushed and attacked her with a hug. It lasted so long that she started to wonder if he would ever release her and if she wanted him to let go. In the end, though, he gently pulled away and grabbed her hand to kiss the back of it as he surveyed all his gifts. "You're so good to me. Thank you so much."

Her blush spread as she smiled at him and squeezed his hand in return, hoping it would convey the warmth that was spreading through her body like wildfire. She didn't care that anyone could walk in at any moment to see them. This was between her and Ralph. No one else mattered.

Yet, it seemed that a gentle squeeze wasn't enough for Ralph as he, once again, found himself moving in to hug her. He knew he was addicted to her affectionate gestures, to her smile, to the warmth in her eyes when she looked at him and how she always lets him hold her whenever they're alone.

"Can we stay like this all night?" he whined and buried his head in the crook of her neck to inhale the scent of her perfume. The faint notes reminded him of early evening sunsets. Of falling in love. Of Y/N. The thought brought a huge smile to his face.

"You look far too handsome to stay indoors tonight," she replied playfully and pressed a light kiss on his forehead, quickly wiping away the faint red lipstick mark she'd left there.

Victoria would definitely have some choice words to say if Ralph didn't attend their birthday party.

Y/N leaned back to admire him. "But if you don't feel up for it anymore, just say so and we'll stay here. We can make up an excuse about me feeling under the weather or something." She paused momentarily to brush a stray piece of hair away from his forehead. "Would be a shame to miss out on your birthday party, though."

After their first smooch, they hadn't had many more. Seven. Ralph had counted. Every evening when they would part, Y/N would place a sweet peck on his lips to say goodbye. He'd never initiated it. Until now. As soon as she finished speaking, Ralph went for it.

While she was surprised by his forwardness, she certainly wasn't opposed to it. And besides, why should she? Her hand cupped the back of his head and guided him closer, giving him better access to her lips. Ralph eagerly reciprocated, taking advantage of their proximity and deepening the kiss with a passion he hadn't used towards anyone before.

His hands roamed freely on her shoulders, around her waist, and then, finally, cupping her jaw. Her own hand fell to rest at his nape, the pad of her thumb brushing soothing circles in a gentle rhythm that made him not want to come up for air. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

"Oh!"

Anna yelped at the scene before her and brought them both back into reality. She watched as the couple stumbled apart with blushing faces and sheepish laughs.

"We were just-" Ralph started, his voice slightly hoarse and raspy, as he coughed awkwardly, trying to recover from their embarrassing display.

"The car is here." Anna interrupted, giving them a little smile. They both nodded and moved to leave, but before Ralph passed her, Anna held her hand out for him to stop.

Once he did, Anna reached into her pocket for a handkerchief and wiped away the messy marks of lipstick around his lips. He didn't protest, he appreciated the gesture more than he cared to admit. After she was sure she'd covered everything, she handed the small square of fabric to him.

"Behave yourselves," she said with a wink and walked out of the room with a spring in her step. As soon as she heard the door close, Y/N felt Ralph's warm hand grab hers and give it a firm tug as he dragged her outside.

The ride to the party was bashful. Their fingers were intertwined, their hands rested palm to palm as they shared soft smiles, shy grins, and silent stolen glances throughout the whole drive. That was until Ralph let out a batch of high pitched giggles and Y/N couldn't help but join in, too. The joy in his eyes, his bright smile, the sparkle in his deep eyes, everything was infectious.

Soon, they reached their destination. A large banner hung above the front door with the words 'Victoria & Ralph's 24th' written in gold cursive lettering across it in bold letters. The Penbury's theatre had been renovated for the party. It was now decorated with streamers that glistened golden in the rays of the setting sun. There were balloons everywhere, the tables on either side of the front entrance were decked with flowers and food, and even the stage was festooned with decorations.

"Shall we?" Ralph whispered, gesturing to their entrance where people were already milling around. She grinned and nodded.

With that, they hopped out of the car. Ralph got out first and hurried to open the door for Y/N. He grabbed her hand and led her to the large entrance as the lights began to dim and music filled the air. By the looks of things, most people had arrived and the couple were fashionably late.

Noticing as her brother and his fiancé arrived arm in arm, Victoria rushed over. "You're late, Ralph! What took you so long?!"

"We wanted to make an entrance."

"And this is Y/N? Obviously, this is Y/N! It's so nice to meet you." She reached over and shook Y/N's hand vigorously, almost squeezing it off. "I've been telling Ralph that I, his dearest sister, have been wanting to meet you since I first found out about you two."

No matter the fact that Y/N couldn't entirely say the same - she knew despite her attention seeking ways and often shallow behaviour, Victoria cared for her brother - Y/N offered a "It's nice to meet you too" and Y/N was promptly introduced to everyone they came across. She greeted each and every one of them politely.

It was going smoothly. Really well actually. With Ralph's hand resting firmly on the small of her back as they mingled and tried to hide their annoyance whenever someone wasn't exactly polite or veered too far onto the snobby side of life.

Ralph's parents made an appearance for a few minutes and spoke with the couple before leaving to greet other guests. Y/N had met them before and they gave her a warm welcome - especially his mother who was very complimentary of Y/N's dress - and she was glad that Ralph's parents approved of her. It would be unfortunate if they believed she wasn't a good fit for their son.

Although he knew that nothing - absolutely nothing - would stop him from marrying Y/N, Ralph was rather relieved that she melded so well with his family. Sure, a little tension was still present - mainly whenever the subject of future children was brought up- but overall, it went smoothly.

Like usual, the couple were shoulder to shoulder for most of the night, one hand drinking a glass of champagne and the other intertwining their fingers. Though sometimes, Ralph would lift the back of her hand to his lips and press a kiss to her knuckles.

If it had been all an act, it would've been a bloody good one.

Never before had people praised him. It was his birthday, yes, but as soon as they heard about the engagement, it soon developed into congratulations and Y/N showing off her ring. Ralph's ego was through the roof. He was now known as the future groom. It was a title he had dreamed of having and he wouldn't take it lying down, especially after hearing people refer to him as 'Y/N's husband' which caused the biggest smile to erupt on his face whenever he heard it.

But it wasn't just about the praise. There was a sense of belonging now. Nobody believed he'd ever find someone to marry. He was sure they all believed he'd be a lonely perpetual bachelor until his death day. No. That obviously wasn't true, was it? He was proud to be joining the throng of married folk as it proved that he was perfectly normal.

Simply, there was nothing wrong with him. Sure, he wasn't the most traditionally manly type of guy, but that didn't matter. Y/N knew that. She liked that. She liked him and that was all that he cared about. Bugger everyone else's opinion, Y/N found him and his Ralph-ness appealing.

Along with this new sense of conformity came a new batch of people who were willing to be friendly with Ralph. The group of boy's that Victoria was friends with had never included Ralph before so when they waved him over, he was rather surprised.

"Oh no, what do I do?" He asked himself. His gaze darted between Y/N and the boys, unsure of which one to interact with.

"Take a deep breath and pretend what they are talking about is interesting." Y/N advised.

She saw how a flash of insecurity appeared on his face before it vanished behind a fake smile, so she gently pulled him by the collar into a kiss. "For luck," she whispered against his lips, making his heart flutter like crazy.

"I already consider myself the luckiest man in the entire world because I get to spend my life with you."

"Good," she smiled and leaned forward to peck him again before pushing him in the direction of the boys so he'd begin walking. "Go make friends." He looked back at her one last time, his expression full of hope and love, then made it to the gaggle of men.

Y/N watched for a while to check if he needed saving or if he could handle himself, and she was pleased to see that he seemed to be doing fine on his own. So, she turned away and began wandering the perimeter of the ballroom, observing the people mingling along with a drink in hand, listening to loud conversations as the band played a catchy song, and chatting excitedly amongst themselves.

The Penbury parents had left so their children could let loose without fear of parental judgemental stares. Y/N could easily imagine them sitting at their booth with an amused look on their face as Ralph was hanging out with the lads and Victoria was on the dance floor with her friends. It was perfectly 1920's.

After a while, Y/N found herself exploring the venue. She'd left the party and was in the process of admiring the smaller theatre room that was directly opposite. The music was muffled through the thick walls, giving the space a slightly different feel, yet still pleasant to be in. Probably even more pleasant because it wasn't filled to the brim with strangers.

In the relative quiet, Y/N sat at the edge of the stage and swung her legs like a child. Her mind was beginning to wander as she absentmindedly twiddled her engagement ring on her finger. After her initial shock had worn off, she began thinking over how much better her relationship with Ralph had become. He was a gentleman, he treated her right, and he had taken care of her every need since the moment they met. He also made her laugh a lot.

More than that, though, his company and presence felt comfortable. When he was there, her head felt light, and her worries melted away. Everything seemed so perfect when they were together, like nothing mattered but them.

It was strange really, that she'd fallen for Ralph so quickly. They'd known each other for hardly any time, yet somehow she found herself falling for him, harder than she had expected. As cheesy as it may sound, Y/N was starting to think maybe soulmates did exist, and if that were the case, she hoped Ralph was hers.

That wasn't a thing she'd ever thought about before. Now that the thought crossed her mind, she couldn't help but feel a warmth fill her chest at the mere notion.

"There you are!"

"Sorry, needed a break from all that socialising," Y/N apologised but made no effort to stand because she knew Ralph was in the process of sitting beside her.

He lifted her glass of champagne up and took its place, their thighs squished up tight against each other. Without asking, he downed the remainder of her drink and placed it off to the side. A smile came to his lips as he took her hands in his, bringing them up to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss against the back of her hand once more.

"You're fond of kissing the back of my hand, aren't you?"

"Gives me a great look at the ring on your finger," he admitted. His eyes flickered to it before they travelled up to meet hers once more and his voice got softer. "It reminds me of how lucky I am that you chose me."

A warm feeling spread throughout her body as he kissed her hand softly once more. He looked back up at her with his beautiful chocolate brown eyes, and for a short, blissful moment, she forgot how to breathe, forgetting about anything except for the man she loved. How could she not when he was looking at her with such intensity and adoration?

"It wasn't a hard choice to make," Y/N told him quietly, playfully bumping her shoulder into his. Her fingers traced the edges of the ring lovingly, a slight blush rising to her cheeks.

Those three words weren't spoken aloud, yet they managed to carry themselves across the silence. They weren't loud enough to cause some type of unwanted attention, but they were enough to make Ralph's breath catch in his throat. His fingers twitched nervously around hers. He knew exactly what she meant. He understood. Of course he did.

"Would you like to dance?" he inquired hopefully.

"You'll have to show me how."

Smiling brightly, he helped her to her feet and led her onto the middle of the stage. She laughed as he guided her through the steps, holding her waist tightly with one hand and keeping the other firmly intertwined with hers. As they danced, their eyes occasionally locked and they shared knowing smiles, letting their emotions run free in the open air.

Soon enough, however, he felt the urge to bring her closer. So with a small smile, he held her tighter and swayed along with her slowly, enjoying the closeness they shared, the sound of their own hearts beating together filling their ears. It was a wonderful song. One where the words were simple but sweet, telling of love and devotion.

At first it was clumsy and almost shy, but gradually he relaxed and soon it flowed naturally, allowing his actions to speak louder than his voice ever could. She listened to him, following along, moving her body to the rhythm without hesitation. Their faces only inches apart, neither daring to break eye contact and neither willing to be the one to do it first.

Victoria had noticed that Ralph and Y/N had disappeared, and while she wasn't a hundred percent sure that she wouldn't find them doing something scandalous, it was coming up to the moment when the birthday cake was brought out and obviously both twins were needed for that.

Yet, as she walked in on the couple, she didn't want to interrupt the moment. Not wanting to make things awkward, she waited patiently outside the door until they'd finished dancing, allowing their privacy to linger for just a few moments longer but couldn't help the smile growing across her face at her brother and his partner.

Ralph's expression was pure bliss, his eyes shining like he'd won the lottery as he gazed down at the woman in his arms. It was clear, even for someone as non-committal as Victoria, that those two were in love. It didn't take her long to spot the sparkles that flew between them whenever the pair interacted. But now she was absolutely sure.

Y/N was good enough for her dear brother.

When the end of song came, Victoria knocked again on the door, not wanting the couple to startle in their position, especially as they didn't seem ready to part just yet, although they did pull apart and straightened their clothes.

"Sorry to disturb you," Victoria spoke, causing the couple to turn to face her immediately. "Cake time!"

With a sheepish smile, Ralph offered his arm and Y/N accepted it gracefully while Victoria led the way back into the ballroom. Once everyone had received their slice of cake, a cheer went round the tables followed by clapping and cheers and singing.

As Y/N took a bite of her piece of chocolate cake, her eyes widened in delight when she tasted the flavour. "Good choice, my darling," she mumbled at Ralph through a mouth full of cake and a satisfied hum.

"Our cousin owns the bakery nearby; the best thing we get here is her famous chocolate cake!" Victoria explained animatedly with a large grin on her face. "She even makes it with her own chocolate."

Once they were done eating, Ralph leant over to wipe away a crumb or two from the corner of her mouth and licked the remnants away from his thumb. Her cheeks flushed pink at the action and she smiled shyly, averting her gaze as she bit at her lower lip in embarrassment.

"Would you like another drink?" she asked after clearing her throat and standing up. Ralph nodded in confirmation, and she excused herself briefly to fetch more champagne, leaving the two siblings to gossip between themselves.

It was quiet for around five seconds before Ralph couldn't help himself from blurting out, "What do you think?"

"She's perfect for you."

"I know!"

They shared a quick laugh before returning to their conversation. And when Y/N returned with another bottle of champagne that she'd been given by one of the servers, they were both grinning ear to ear.

Throughout the rest of the night, everyone got progressively drunker as the night wore on. The amount of alcohol ingested grew and soon people started getting rowdy and unruly. Victoria had found her plaything for the night among the crowd of partygoers and was dancing wildly with him, oblivious to the fact that he was trying to kiss her.

Ralph was having more luck with his escapade. Ever since he'd managed to coax Y/N onto the dance floor, his head had been nuzzled against her neck the entire time and he'd forgotten the amount of times he'd pressed sloppy, open mouthed smooches to her skin.

If he hadn't been busy being enamoured by her, he might've been more aware that it wasn't the most socially acceptable thing to do but he didn't care. She seemed perfectly fine and even giggled occasionally, her cheeks tinted pink in amusement.

"Oops, I left a mark there," he commented, smiling widely as he ran his fingers lightly over the hickey on her neck. "Sorry, sorry."

Yet, he didn't feel all that sorry. Especially when he noticed Y/N biting her lip, her eyes staring deep into his. If he wasn't mistaken then he saw a flicker of lust in her eyes but that could very well have been imagination.

Before she knew it, Ralph was returning his lips to her neck but this time slower, making his movements linger so much that she felt a tingle running through her body. She closed her eyes at the sensation and moaned low in her throat, her fingers reaching up to grip his hair in an attempt to ground herself.

"Ralph," she breathed out, the word barely audible over the music but he still heard every single word. He smirked into her neck. He would've never thought he'd get the chance to do such a thing again. To kiss her this way. This intimately.

"Mmhm?" he hummed slowly, brushing his nose against her cheekbone before placing feathery kisses along it. Her breath caught in her throat at the feeling and she leaned forward to hide her flushed face against his shoulder, inhaling sharply when she felt his hand move to her waist and hold her firmly in place.

Who knew she'd be so receptive to his lips? Who knew that she would enjoy his touch this much? That she would enjoy being pressed against his body, breathing him in?

But some part of his brain still hasn't accepted the notion that, yes, Y/N clearly had more than platonic feelings for him, and in his drunken state, he got rather concerned all of a sudden. That blush he'd seen on her face may have come from discomfort. Oh, that's why she was hiding her face.

Because she was embarrassed that he'd shown so much affection for her in public, in front of people who'd known that Ralph Penbury was making moves on Y/N L/N and she just had to stand and take it.

So, he quickly (yet sloppily) reared back to inquire, "Sorry, I apol-apologise if I'm making you uncomfortable-" He stopped mid sentence upon seeing her face contort slightly and she tried desperately hard to stop a giggle from escaping her throat but failed miserably.

Y/N cradled his cheeks with a grip more heavy handed than she intended for it to be and pressed a firm kiss on his lips. "No apologies," she whispered. "Don't apologise. Please don't apologise. You're wonderful; I'll admit it. I love you, don't worry about it. Love you so much, Ralphie."

"W-wha? What?" he stuttered in response, looking dazed.

His mind was reeling and was unable to comprehend everything Y/N just said. It was overwhelming and he could hardly breathe, let alone think. How was he supposed to reply to anything? Especially after everything she just said to him?

He was unprepared for her to say it. And, it got even worse when her thumbs brushed against his cheeks as a small, coy smile tugged the corners of her mouth upwards but, despite it, there was also an almost desperate look in her eyes.

"I love you," she repeated, her words echoing in his ears and filling him with a sense of euphoria and hope. "I… I really do love you."

Just as he'd done when he first saw her, Ralph lost all control of his legs because he was suddenly falling to the floor. His knees gave out underneath him and he landed awkwardly on his butt as his hands reached out to catch himself and stop him from hitting the ground. Yet, it was too late.

While he was not so graceful falling, he caught a hold of Y/N's hands and brought her down with him, causing her to land directly on top of him in a clumsy mess of limbs. They were both laughing hysterically but it didn't matter anymore, neither cared.

Despite the fact that many of the remaining partygoers had witnessed the ordeal, neither cared about what they might think or say. The love that kept flowing, always flowing, was finally out in the open. So it made no difference whether they were seen or not.

As Ralph looked up at Y/N, he brushed a stray piece of hair behind her ear and caught her eye. The second their gazes met, an uproar of laughter erupted from their throats. As soon as she noticed the smile playing across his features and the look of pure adoration in his eyes, she couldn't help but smile broadly back. It was impossible not to.

"I really love you too, my darling. Always have. From the moment we met," he admitted softly, brushing the tip of his nose against hers tenderly.

"You did?" she asked with wide eyes.

"Head over heels. Figuratively and literally."

Giggling, Y/N manoeuvred to sit on the floor beside him and pulled Ralph up until he was sitting upright again. "I think it's time we went home, huh?" she teased softly. Then, she added a new pet name she was sure he'd like. "My love."

My love. She called him that. Without being prompted or because they were in front of people that they needed to convince. No. He was her love. He had her love, her affection. And she had his.

Ever the drama queen, Ralph raised the back of his hand to his forehead and playfully flopped back to the ground, sighing loudly as his heart filled with happiness. "Oh god," he groaned under his breath and covered his face with his hands as he began to giggle again. "This is the best birthday ever."

Ralph was soon tugged to his feet, albeit hesitantly as he was sure he could've stayed on the floor - in that moment - forever but he saw the oncoming shoes of his sister approaching them and let Y/N pull him up.

"I think you better get him home, Y/N," Victoria urged, poking at Ralph's chest to see how quickly he'd lose balance. But, instead of stumbling around like the drunken idiot that he was, Ralph was able to hold onto Y/N's arm so he didn't end up on the ground again.

"I was thinking that too. Let's get you to bed, big guy," Y/N chuckled warmly as she looped her arms through his, intertwining her fingers with his as they walked together towards the exit, but before they were out of range, Y/N called back to Victoria, "It was lovely meeting you!"

She watched as Victoria smiled kindly at her. "You too, Y/N. Take good care of my little brother, okay?"

"Will do!"

The car ride home went by in a blur. Within two minutes of being sat down, Ralph fell asleep, slumped against the door whilst his head lolled lazily and Y/N gently moved him towards her shoulder as she assumed that would be comfier.

After getting him situated, Y/N let her nose fall to the top of his hair, inhaling the sweet scent of him. She smiled softly to herself, her finger tracing random patterns on his hand as she listened to his quiet snoring, knowing that this man - her man - was going to be by her side forever.

Once they'd reached their street, Y/N woke him by giving him a gentle shake, which caused his eyelids to slowly flutter open and reveal the adorable sleepy grin plastered to his face.

"We're home, lovely," she cooed and tried not to let him fall back asleep when he nuzzled into her neck. "I'm sure you'd prefer to sleep in a bed than a car, hmm?"

"Are you going to be in my bed?" Ralph mumbled groggily against her skin and she laughed softly in response.

"That can be arranged."

Getting him up the stairs of his apartment was a task that was proving extremely difficult and very tiring for the both of them especially as they were both quite intoxicated. Y/N was tipsy. Ralph was tired and tipsy. It was a struggle but they found themselves giggling like naughty schoolchildren as they stumbled, tripping and nearly falling down multiple times due to their drunkenness. They laughed and squealed as they managed to make it safely to Ralph's bedroom and collapsed onto his soft mattress.

"We should get into our pyjamas," Y/N suggested with a yawn. "Then we can sleep. Yes, that's a plan. Do you like that plan?"

Looking over at Ralph, she immediately noticed that he'd fallen asleep again as soon as his head hit the pillow, completely worn out. She couldn't help but find him cute in this state. His breathing remained even as his chest rose and fell, his body relaxed and unmoving from the position he had fallen into.

"You know what, you need your rest."

As quietly as she could, Y/N searched for something suitable for her to wear to bed. Ralph had a silk robe hung up on the back of his door and she knew that was exactly it. Undressing down to her under garments, she slid the robe on, tied it, removed her makeup and got under the duvet.

With a quick kiss to his temple, Y/N settled in for the night beside her fiancé and drifted off to sleep as the familiar smell of Ralph's cologne wafted into her nostrils, comforting her in the most soothing manner possible as she drifted off to dreamland. Albeit, she was not ready for the headache that awaited her in the morning, but it was worth it in the end.

Ralph thought he was dreaming when he woke in the morning. There wasn't any light streaming through his window. There weren't any birds chirping outside and, yet, somehow, he felt as if he was in heaven when he saw Y/N's peaceful sleeping face right next to him.

It was impossible for him to restrain himself and he quickly undid some of his shirt buttons, threw off his jacket and got under the duvet so he was more comfortable. His movement must've woken her a bit as she turned to wrap her arm around him, mumbling in a hoarse voice, "Let's sleep these hangovers off…"

Smiling softly, Ralph closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. "Yes, alright." He took one last glance down at her, admiring the beautiful girl lying in his arms before he let himself drift off to sleep once more.

└─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────┘

Why do weddings take so long to plan? Both Ralph and Y/N often thought that. It was one simple day that was supposed to be about love and not how flashy of an event it is. They had half a mind to cut out the middleman and just do it. Just go to the registry office and be married, no hassle.

Yet, things had been booked and bought. It would've been a waste to throw it all away now. Plus, is there anything wrong with wanting to boast about how well you can financially provide for your wife? Ralph was more than willing to do that. It was his chance to really show off. Yeah, he did have a great partner who deserves to be completely spoiled with riches and put on a pedestal so he could cheer from the rooftops, "This is my wife! Look how happy and beautiful she is!" That was the Pembury way, after all.

Y/N let go of the organising reins very quickly. Victoria and Ralph's mother were forthcoming with all of their ideas and it became clear early on that it was going to be a Penbury wedding through and through. It was best to let them do all the hassle, Y/N reasoned. She was destined to live with them for the rest of her life, why not keep things polite and cordial for the sake of Ralph. And Y/N's sanity. All that Y/N requested was that she could pick her dress. That was it. Victoria had elected herself as Maid of Honour and heavily suggested that an old friend of Y/N's named Brennan would serve as Ralph's best man, despite the fact that the guys had only interacted once before.

Brennan, as Ralph would come to find out, was a completely different man when Y/N wasn't around. When he had first met the guy, he'd been nice. Charming even. But now the big day had arrived and the two wedding batches were in the process of getting ready, Brennan looked as if he'd eaten something sour. He'd been pouting like a slapped child since they'd begun.

They were lounging around in a hotel room that wasn't too far from the chapel and the very first thing that Brennan did was to slam the door when he entered. That set the tone for the rest of Ralph's interactions with him for the day. Still, there was nothing that would quell his excitement. He was getting married. Actually getting married, how crazy is that? And to Y/N of all people? Ralph knew he was blessed, utterly and truly blessed.

If he were poor, he'd say it was as if he'd won the lottery. Nothing, absolutely nothing, could wipe the goofy look from Ralph's face. Not even when Brennan posed, "It's rather strange actually," as he looked across at Ralph as he did the buttons up of his shirt.

"Hmm?"

"Back in the day, everyone thought it would've been Y/N and I that were set to be wed. That is, if they even believed it was possible to tame the beast." He chuckled bitterly to himself. "How did you achieve such a thing?"

Ralph's brows furrowed at that question. Ah, that's why. Yet, there was no part of him that felt any kind of jealousy or anything of that sort. However, there was an overall demeanour of disappointment from Ralph to Brennan. "I didn't. Wouldn't want to," Ralph replied simply and turned towards the mirror so he could no longer see him in the corner of his eye.

Why would you want to 'tame the beast'?, he thought to himself. It was borderline blasphemy to imply such a thing. Y/N was not a wild animal to be tamed. She was his equal, his partner, her own person. And that should never change. The thought that there were men such as Brennan in her life that wanted to put out that spark, that flame of passion within her, was a foreign concept to Ralph, and will always be.

For a moment, Ralph wondered if Y/N knew about this side of her old friend. He assumed she was somewhat aware. Why else would she not keep him around that much these days? Honestly, she had barely mentioned his name. There had been a few times when they passed his house and Y/N had pointed out, "Oh, my friend Brennan lives there," then they moved on.

Some part of Ralph wanted to be smug. He wanted to stir the pot, so to speak, and emphasise the fact that Y/N had chosen him in the end. They were going to live happily ever after. What was Brennan going to get? Nothing but a piece of Penbury wedding cake, which had been made by their cousin who owned the best bakery in the west end and was sure to cause everyone to say, "How delicious, this simply is the best cake I've ever eaten."

But, if he wanted the day to go perfectly, he'd have to be civil with the best man. Ralph sighed to himself and turned back towards the mirror to fix a strand of hair into place and check over his suit for the hundredth time. He looked good enough to eat, that was for certain. Yet, was he handsome enough for Y/N? He hoped so. He couldn't help it - it was the nerves. No matter what he tried, his thoughts kept wandering. Brennan was a handsome guy too, although he was good three inches taller than him, at least. No. No. He couldn't start the self loathing now, especially not when he had the whole day ahead of him.

Instead, he imagined what Y/N would look like in her gown. How pretty she would be, how soft her skin might feel under his touch, how radiant her smile would become as she took in every aspect of their surroundings as she walked down the aisle to meet him at the altar, to hear her say her vows.

Then he couldn't help but let his mind wander to more salacious matters. Like how pretty and rosy her cheeks would get when that gown would fall off her shoulder, exposing the skin to his greedy eyes. How he could make her eyes glint as he kissed his way down her neck and jawline before he proceeded further south. How she would gasp as his mouth devoured hers in the most passionate kiss she'd ever experienced. Her lips would taste sweet, he mused, like the strawberry lip balm she always wore. Ralph's cheeks burned as he pictured the possibility of their nighttime activities. He shuddered involuntarily at the thought of her, naked, underneath him, his hands exploring every inch of her body. Her moans and whines would surely echo in his ears throughout the night, making it all the more sweeter.

A dream that could come to be. Or maybe it was vision to torture him for the rest of the day. Either way, he wasn't going to complain, but he would have to shake the thought away for now so he wouldn't be showing signs of what he was thinking about. That's just not proper with somebody else in the room. Especially if that person was Brennan. Ralph knew if he even made the most minor slip up, that misogynist was going to spread the word and, honestly, Ralph couldn't be bothered with drama on his wedding day. Any other day? Completely fine. Encouraged actually. Not today.

Similarly, Y/N was trying to keep her cool as Victoria and Mrs Penbury kept asking her things like she'd had a say about what was going on. They'd arranged everything from the get go, why didn't they know? Y/N was clueless by their design and her only true focus was getting into her dress and making herself look presentable. No, not presentable. Perfect. She needed to look perfect.

Obviously Ralph would look dashing, that was a given. Somehow Y/N had to spruce herself up enough that it would make sense that someone as handsome as Ralph would go for her. Just a little more makeup than usual. Maybe some lipstick. A dash of perfume and perhaps just a touch of rouge to make her complexion more filled with life and feminine.

"You are going far too heavy handed, darling," Victoria remarked with fond amusement as she swiped the blush pot from bride's hand and began to blend as much as she could with her fingers in an attempt to de-clownify her soon to be sister in law. "Nervous?"

"A little."

"Don't be." Victoria dipped a brush into some face powder to cover and tamethe rouge enough so it would look like a flirty splattering of colour rather than an obnoxious rash. "Ralph has always been excited for life, for love, to talk someone's ear off. Mother always said he was so eager to get out in the world that he was literally kicking me out of her womb so he'd get out sooner. And, even though I'm only two minutes older than him, I know that my baby brother has never been this excited in his entire existence. Trust me, he loves you dearly and is quite looking forward to marrying you."

With that comment, Victoria tilted Y/N's chin so she could get a better angle to coat the bride's lashes with the cake mascara until she was sure that her masterpiece was finished. After checking the result with a smile, Victoria nodded her approval of her work and placed her hands atop Y/N's shoulders as she gave them a gentle squeeze before letting her hands drop to her sides as she stepped back and smiled at Y/N as if she were the most precious thing in the world.

"My brother is going to faint! Positively faint!"

As Y/N looked into the mirror, she saw a beautiful bride staring right back at her with bright eyes full of hope and wonderment. Her hair framed her face beautifully and, even with the amount of makeup applied, her eyes sparkled with joy as she gazed into the mirror and, finally, allowed her mind to conjure up images of the day she'd never thought would happen.

If someone had used a time machine (as if!) and told Y/N from a year ago that she'd actually accepted a marriage proposal from a gentleman that was kind and sweet and needy and all of those other nice adjectives people use to describe the person they're in love with, she may've just laughed at them. But here she sat. In a white gown. With an engagement ring on her finger. With the knowledge that her fiancé was exactly one hundred percent pleased with the prospect of their future together. The idea seemed ludicrous.

Ridiculous enough that it actually made the corners of Y/N's eyes crinkle as she smiled to herself. Just the thought of Ralph brought happiness to her heart. Of course, they loved each other. Of course they would get married one day. It made sense. Ralph with his big brown eyes. Ralph with his soft curls and dimples. Ralph with his wide smile and warm laughter. Ralph with his voice and his arms. Ralph with his warmth, his presence and his kisses. It was ridiculous and yet it was perfectly reasonable.

She could see him there now. Standing beside her. Smiling down at her. Wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her close to his side. Pressing his nose against her cheek and whispering in her ear. His warm breath tickling her skin and sending tingles throughout her body. He could make her smile. Make her laugh. And in return, she'd let him in on things that she would never allow anyone else to even catch a glimpse of.

Even the more naughty glimpses, he'd get in full. He'd see every part of her. Her soul. The inner workings of her brain. And every inch of her body, if he wished to. He'd know where all of her freckles and moles were, and he would have the chance to kiss each and every one of them. He could explore the dips and curves of her body whenever he wanted to, and hopefully he'd extend her the same courtesy.

Despite the fact that it was improper, Y/N had imagined how Ralph would look with her hands in his hair - which was much easier to do now that he'd stopped using all that gel - as she straddled his lap and whispered sweet nothings to him. She had pictured him lying beneath her, his eyes half lidded and his hands resting upon her hips while their lips locked, kissing each other with such passion and longing that their breaths mingled, their hearts pounding in unison, creating a melody that resonated throughout the room. Then her lips would travel downwards, trailing kisses over his chest and onto his abdomen, slowly descending toward his...

"Y/N, dear, we have to leave soon," Mrs Penbury's cheery voice suddenly broke through her reverie. Y/N snapped her head towards her mother in law and tried to wash away any hint on her face about what she'd been imagining.

"Right, yes, right," she replied. Taking one last quick glance in the mirror, Y/N smoothed her hands down her dress and fixed her veil as if nothing had happened, although, in reality, everything in her world had changed. Or, it was about to change.

The Bridal Chorus began and Ralph's body instantly whipped around to look at his bride as she walked into the foyer. She was resplendent. She was glowing. She was radiant. She was beautiful. The champagne coloured gown she was wearing fell over her body like a second layer of skin, complimenting every curve on her body with every step she took. He stared at her in awe, unable to tear himself away from her stunning beauty, as she gracefully made her way towards him.

Since it had become a habit of his, he gripped onto the nearest pew in an effort to stay upright and not completely pass out. He watched her, transfixed, unable to tear his eyes away from her and was soon being gently guided by her to stand back in his original position.

"You look pretty," she whispered in his ear, a giggle capping off her sentence.

It was true. He looked effortlessly gorgeous. His suit was tailored so precisely and neatly that he practically oozed elegance. His tie was pulled perfectly snug against his neck, accentuating the shape of his deceptively broad shoulders underneath and the elegant line of his jaw. He truly did seem to be ready to burst with excitement and it warmed her inside as she stared at him.

"I'm supposed to say that to you, my love," he responded softly in a low, husky tone. "Yet, I don't think pretty is a good enough word to describe how breathtaking you look."

"Flatterer," she teased but smiled anyway, her heart beating faster with each moment that passed by and, despite all her best efforts, her cheeks flushed and her lips quivered ever so slightly. It wasn't often that either of them were nervous, or shy. Yet, when she stood in front of her soon to be husband and couldn't find her tongue to properly articulate herself. She felt so stupidly young, so foolishly enamoured, and so very happy.

"If the young couple are finished with their flirting, we shall begin the ceremony," the priest joked, getting a laugh from the crowd and two sheepish chuckles from the couple in question.

So, the ceremony began. While neither of the families were particularly religious, the whole thing was filled with prayers and hymns and passages from the bible that fell upon the couple's deaf ears. As the priest was babbling on, Ralph had latched onto a part of Y/N's dress and was caressing the lace between his thumb and forefinger while trying to absorb every ounce of detail he could. He couldn't help himself from memorising the texture, because every moment of her, and especially of her today, was precious to him.

"So soft," he silently mouthed to her with a goofy grin on his face, unable to resist touching the material and stroking it.

Brennan caught the little interaction as he glanced over Ralph's shoulder and rolled his eyes at the display. He got Y/N's attention and scrunched his eyebrows together, as if his forehead was showing how he disapproved of their affection. And so he didn't cause a stink - something Brennan was known to do - Y/N subtly reached for Ralph's hand and took it in hers to have the best of both worlds.

Neither of the duo were really paying attention to the priest. Why would they? Their super hot partner was right in front of them! How could they focus on anyone else? Sure, they did the simple call and response moments, and saying their vows took a little more brain power than they wanted to spare since the couple did everything in their power not to look away from each other.

Before they knew it, "You may kiss the bride," was announced by the priest. The couple looked at each other before grinning, leaning in, and connecting their mouths in a gentle kiss. One that was soft and chaste and wouldn't scandalise the crowd of people behind them. One filled with the promise of forever and the purest and most innocent form of devotion.

Cheers and confetti rained as the couple exited the chapel hand in hand, both feeling lightheaded, giddy, almost drunk on the taste of their newly engaged smiles. As they made it into the Rolls Royce Y/N's father had gifted them for the day, the pair scrambled into the backseat to take an overdue moment to breathe and relax and enjoy the fact that they were legally linked in this new way.

When Ralph started giggling to himself, Y/N soon joined in, the infectious laughter echoing around the car. They were laughing and smiling and leaning into each other. There was so much joy coursing through their veins that neither noticed their driver until he spoke to them. "Where to?"

Mrs Penbury had been very adamant that the reception was going to be held at the Pembury's theatre, and why would Y/N disagree? It was the easiest option, after all. And it was a beautiful venue. With its ornate chandeliers, marble floors, tall ceilings and large windows, it seemed rather fitting for a party for two love birds.

The ride there was rather comfortable, as Y/N rested her head in the crook of Ralph's neck as she gazed out of the window and smiled happily. He'd told her that "If I kiss you now, I'm afraid we'll never make it to the reception and everyone will be very mad at us. I promise as soon as we're alone, completely alone..." He looked at the chauffeur out of the side of his eye. "You'll be smothered with kisses and love and attention and anything else that you desire, from hereon."

But, Y/N couldn't help herself. She pressed a lingering kiss to his jaw that he was seconds away from half-heartedly whining about before she explained, "You said nothing about me kissing you," with a teasing glint in her eye. "I think it's a travesty for a wife to not kiss her very handsome husband whenever she wants." And so, Y/N began to attack his cheek with smooches and nips and pecks, earning loud squeals of amusement from her beloved. He was trying his very best to keep his promise, though, and to refrain from doing anything too raunchy, just in case they lost track of time.

Just as he thought that he would be able to endure it no longer, they arrived at the theatre and were welcomed with warm hugs from their friends, including their family members who were seated outside in chairs, drinking wine, laughing and talking amongst themselves. Once again, a sea of faces swarmed the bride and groom as soon as they stepped out of the car, all trying to congratulate and hug them with varying degrees of enthusiasm - Brennan on the one side of the spectrum and Victoria on the other.

More and more socialising ensued as it seemed as if everyone wanted the newly weds attention. It came to the point that the couple had been pulled away into separate conversations and surrounded by so many people they couldn't possibly count. Although they were polite during their interactions, at every chance they got, the couple found their way back to each other for a moment of solace before it was disrupted yet again by the next person. The longest batch of 'alone time' they got to experience was during the first dance, which was a little awkward due to the fact that everyone was watching them sway along to the soft melody from the jazz band.

"Just keep your eyes on me. Relax," Ralph whispered as he pulled her impossibly closer to him and kissed the top of her head, hoping to ease the tension that had begun to build up in her shoulders. Y/N sighed deeply and nodded, relaxing under the warmth of his arms and letting his words calm her nerves down a little. She looked up at him; his dark eyes full of adoration for her reflected in hers and a smile graced her lips. She couldn't stop looking at him, even after the song ended and people began to join them on the dance floor.

Ralph spun her round and round in a gentle circle, twirling her expertly until she felt dizzy and breathless. Then, just when she thought it might end there, without warning, he dipped her so gracefully she swore she saw stars above her. It was such a romantic gesture that she became breathless when he straightened up, a dashing grin tugging at his lips. He cupped her cheek gently with both hands and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, gazing deeply into her eyes as he did so.

"Y/N Penbury," he called her softly, tenderly, His fingers traced the outline of her face and trailed across the curve of her collarbone, causing goosebumps to erupt throughout her skin. "You're my everything, you know that? My entire world. You make me feel...like I've never done before. Everything makes sense to me, and I'm always content with who I am, with where I am whenever I'm with you. I love you so much, with everything that I am, and with everything I have and will have in the future."

"Oh Ralph..." she cooed in disbelief, a wide grin stretching across her face as tears pricked at her cheeks. "What did I do to deserve you? I think I've been granted a special kind of luck, I don't know exactly what it is. I hope someday I find out so I can share the secret with you, and give you everything you could ever want and need and desire. But until then, I thank God every single day for having you in my life."

"All I could ever want? I have her in my arms already."

As the song continued to play, Y/N snuggled deeper against Ralph's chest and closed her eyes in bliss. She felt his lips touch her forehead before resting them there lovingly, and she melted into his embrace with complete happiness overflowing within her heart. He held her as close as he physically could, and he hoped never to let go again. They stayed like that, enjoying the warmth of each other, their surroundings, their company and their happiness, until it was finally time to retreat to the privacy of their home.

Due to the mass amount of books, journals, heavy tomes and precious knick knacks she owned, the pair had decided that it would be easiest if Ralph moved into Y/N's apartment - also because her home was ever so slightly bigger than his by chance. And to make him feel more welcome, she'd already done some renovations to surprise him with. So, as soon as they made it through the threshold, she was tugging him to what he believed was a spare room.

"Close your eyes, okay?"

He raised an eyebrow but followed her instruction anyway, shutting his eyes tight. She gently pushed him through the door and turned on the light, allowing him to peek open one of his eyes in slight curiosity, a huge grin spreading across his face as he caught sight of the room. An easel stood proudly in the middle with paints and brushes and canvases piled high all over the wooden floorboards. In front of the window stood a big, beautiful red chaise lounge, near a small table, a vase of fresh flowers sitting on the surface and a blanket thrown neatly on one of the armrests. There was an ornate table decorated with a wooden reference hand and body, and a sketchbook.

"Your office is right next to mine!" She brushed past him to get further into the room, pressing a kiss to his cheek as she strutted to sit on the lounger and watched as he slowly entered and walked across the room, inspecting everything in awe. As he examined one piece after another, it dawned on him that Y/N had really gone to a lot of effort to make this room perfect for him; and it absolutely made him feel overwhelmed with emotion, and the urge to kiss her was becoming unbearable.

Without thinking twice, he knelt between her legs and placed his hands on either side of her hips as his head tilted upwards to look at her with big brown puppy dog eyes. He stared intently at her for a few moments, a smile curving his lips as his palms drifted down until they reached the hem of her dress and slid underneath. His thumbs drew circles on her ankle, making her giggle and blush at the implication of what might happen. She wanted what she thought was about to happen to happen.

To ensure that it did, she collected the skirt of her dress and lifted the fabric over her knees, allowing it to pool around her legs and expose the garter wrapped around her thighs. She glanced down shyly and turned a deep shade of crimson at the look of admiration written over his features as he stared at her, mesmerised by her and what she was offering to him. He took off his jacket, loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt sleeves, exposing his forearms as he caressed up her thighs until his fingertips made contact with the lace of her underwear.

"Can I?..." His voice was a low murmur in her ears, almost barely audible, and Y/N couldn't stop herself from nodding with a small smile still plastered on her lips. As if on queue, Ralph slipped the fabric down off of her thighs and onto the floor, leaving her completely exposed to his gaze, and as he admired the way her bare skin glistened and shined, he pressed a lingering kiss to her knee, his thumb brushing against her inner thigh. "Have you ever?"

There was an expectation for a wife to be untouched, yet Y/N couldn't live up to that. Despite the fact she'd never told anyone before, there was no part of her brain that ever thought to deceive her new husband. "My family took a trip to America a few summers ago. I met a sailor there," she revealed quietly while playing with a strand of his hair, and then paused for a second, before adding: "I haven't...you know...done anything since then... Have you?"

"Not while sober."

"Oh." She repeated that one word sentence in a huskier tone as he yanked her hips further towards his face, and then, not bothering to wait for her response, his mouth met her pussy in the most passionate kiss he'd ever given. Her hands wrapped themselves firmly in his hair as he lapped at her clit in slow, tantalising movements that sent ripples of pleasure racing through her body.

Every move he made made her crave more and more, and she moaned and squirmed helplessly beneath his touch, loving the feel of being taken care of by her husband. Soon, his tongue was accompanied by the gentle curling of his fingers. Then by another. Yet, before things could get explosive, she gave his hair a firm tug - one not unkind, but enough to catch his attention. "Ralph," she breathed, feeling him pause momentarily and press his cheek against her inner thigh.

"Yes, my love?"

"We don't want to ruin your new sofa. Let's move to our bed."

Our. Bed. A wave of euphoria spread throughout his entire system at her words and without any hesitation, he stood up and picked Y/N up, carrying her bridal style to their bedroom and placing her delicately on the edge of the soft mattress. His wife, who was a giggly mess, reached behind her in an attempt to undo the buttons of her dress, but as soon as she started to fumble with the clasp, he swooped in. With the back of his hand, he gently swiped her hair from her shoulder then unbuttoned the first few buttons with one swift motion, and before she knew it the neckline of her address was dropping to her lap and leaving her completely bare.

If he thought she was beautiful in her wedding dress, he had absolutely no idea how stunning she'd look without it. Y/N stood and stepped out of the fabric, leaving it discarded on the carpet. She smiled coyly as she took slow steps towards Ralph, who stood frozen on his spot. For the second time that day, his legs felt like jelly. Yet this time, he didn't reach for something to lean against in time and flopped face first onto the bed. A snort ommitted itself from her throat, eliciting a quiet groan out of her husband as he turned himself over, leaned up on his elbows and looked up at her with half lidded eyes.

"You okay, baby?" She asked with a small, teasing laugh.

"Never better."

Her fingers wandered down the buttons of his shirt, opening each one slowly, taking her time to savour each single inch of skin that was presented to her. The material fell from his shoulders, revealing his torso in all its glory. She traced the lines of his chest, her fingertips grazing over his pecs and collarbones. He arched his back slightly and let out a grunt of satisfaction, his eyes closing shut as her nails trailed lightly across his flesh. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed heavily when her lips made contact with his neck, her hot breath grazing his sensitive skin. Her teeth nipped lightly at his skin and he couldn't help the whines escaping his lips every now and then.

"You're so pretty," she cooed, pressing a feather light kiss on the tip of his nose causing him to chuckle and his eyes to snap open once again. "And so sweet. And funny and beautiful..." A wide grin stretched across his face, feeling a sense of comfort as her gentle hands cupped his cheeks, her thumbs rubbing gently across his skin before running across the curve of his jaw. "But above all, so unbelievably sexy."

A sudden rush of boldness coursed through him as he leaned forward and captured her lips forcefully, vanquishing the air out of her lungs and sending a shockwave of goosebumps to dance across her skin. Their kisses were hungry. Raging flames of passion fuelled their desire and lustful desires were burning within them. It was frantic and messy, needy and demanding, and just plain sinful.

"Take your clothes off. Please," she pleaded huskily, reaching for the waistband of his trousers to tug at it impatiently. Ralph quickly sat up straight on the bed then began to remove his belt with trembling fingers, throwing it aside and letting it fall with a thud to the floor.

Once he'd undressed himself, Y/N reached out her arms, wanting him desperately close to her. She needed him closer than ever and as he pulled her on top of him, her legs draped on either side of his hips, her hands gripped at his shoulders as they kissed hungrily. They moved together with such ease and grace, neither of them could keep their hands from wandering and exploring.

"Y/N," he moaned, pulling away for a moment, his palms smoothing down her hair. "Are you sure...? I'm not pressuring you or anything, am I?"

She bit her lip, trying to suppress her laughter whilst shaking her head. She brought a hand to his neck and pulled him into her, kissing him as her other hand trailed downwards to wrap her it around his cock, stroking him slowly.

"No, lovely. I want this. I want you." He let out a sharp exhale as his lips left hers to trail down her neck, sucking at the tender skin and grinding his erection further into her hand. Y/N arched her back, straining against the pressure that was building in her, wanting nothing more than to feel all of him. "How would you like to... you know?"

"You've been wearing those uncomfortable looking heels all day, let me do the work, darling."

Rather abruptly, he surged forward and toppled her over, her back bouncing against the mattress clumsily. This made them both laugh loudly at how spring loaded her bed seemed to be at that moment. When she recovered from the surprise, Ralph hooked his hands under her quads, opening them further so he could slot himself between her legs, his hardness pressing against the apex of her thigh.

Just as she was anticipating him pushing into her, he stopped for a moment. Despite the situation they were currently engaging in, Ralph decided that this was the correct time to give her an innocent hug - or as innocent as a naked embrace could be. His arms slid underneath her back and hoisted her into a sweet cuddle, one she sank into happily. They lay there like that for a couple of minutes after, breathing each other in and exchanging short kisses whenever his lips brushed past her hairline. "Sorry, I don't know what came over me," he confessed with a low chuckle

"It was cute."

"I'll get back to the, um, the making love part now."

Grasping at her hip, he eased himself inside of her, filling her in such a way that Y/N gasped aloud, her hands gripping tightly onto his shoulders. "Don't tense up. I got you," he soothed, leaning down and placing gentle kisses on her cheeks. "I got you. I'll take it slow."

After a moment, he felt her muscles start to loosen up and release their tension, and a smile tugged on his lips as he continued to push himself deeper into her. She closed her eyes as her head fell back against the mattress, a pleasurable tingle pulsating through her body at each thrust into her body. Ralph ran his hands along her sides and hips soothingly as he continued to make slow, deliberate movements into her.

"Guess what."

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

His smile grew even bigger, if possible, and his heart soared at the words. He'd heard them before, yes, but never with this visual, never with the breathless tone she'd used, never with no clothes on. But as he pressed his lips to the crown of her head, the sound of her voice resonated in his ears, the words ringing true - and it was a truth he could never tire of hearing. So, obviously, he said it back to her. "I love you more."

The tips of their noses occasionally bumped into one another, causing both of them to giggle quietly. Ralph pushed a few strands of her hair out of her face and tucked the rest behind her ear, his thumb grazing across her cheekbone, caressing it softly. "I'm a little out of practice. I'm not going to last much longer," he admitted sheepishly, glancing sideways at her with a hint of embarrassment creeping into his voice.

"That's okay, my love. I promise I won't last long either."

And to ensure that her words were true, Y/N let her hand drift between their bodies and rhythmically circled her clit with the pad of her finger. He placed his forehead against hers and closed his eyes, a slight frown marring his perfect features as he tried to hold out for a tad longer.

Heat built and built inside her, growing by the second until it felt like her body couldn't contain it any longer. With her head thrown back in pleasure, she gave a silent gasp as she came, feeling her entire body shiver as waves of warmth washed over her. His mouth opened to catch the soft sounds that escaped her, but the sight of her orgasm caused a deep, gut wrenching moan to erupt from his throat instead. His own orgasm took over, his hips bucking until he came crashing down upon her.

Only the heavy inhales and exhales of the two people entangled in their passionate embraces broke the silence surrounding them. Y/N wrapped herself tightly around him, burying her face into his chest and tightening her grip on his arms. Contentment settled over them both, the feeling resting comfortably on their souls like a warm blanket. And, as they finally came down from their high, they stayed still for a while. Y/N was listening to the steady beat of Ralph's heart beneath her ear, enjoying the feeling of his strong heartbeat resonating deep in his chest. She could feel his chest rising and falling with every breath he took, his fingers gently tracing circles against her spine.

Nothing could compare to the happiness, contentment and serenity she felt right now, and she knew exactly why. Because here, lying in Ralph's arms, the only things occupying her mind were thoughts about how she couldn't have ever imagined being able to feel this blissfully happy, this complete, with anyone else. Was someone like Brennan the misogynist going to ever understand and love her a fraction of what Ralph could? Obviously not. It was a gift that she had standards whilst looking for a partner. If you settle, you settle for less happiness. And Ralph was far from settling for less. He was more. He was most. He was completely and utterly right.

Although they had slept in the same bed before - which was a situation that they both kept secret because who knows what their parents would've said (an unmarried fully dressed man and woman lying next to each other as they drifted off? That's simply preposterous) - there was an overwhelming sense of familiarity to it as if they were meant to be sharing that very same space together. The way his arms enveloped her, the way he held her as though she was an absolute treasure, the way he kissed her lips and whispered to her... they were too precious, too special for her to bear living without these feelings forever.

"Ralph," Y/N murmured softly, bringing her hand to cup his jaw.

"Yes, my love?"

"Thank you for being you. For loving me just the way you are. No matter what happens tomorrow, thank you for loving me today."

"I always will."

"Then, it's settled." A soft peck was pressed to the tip of his nose. "You're stuck with me till the sun explodes."

Chuckling, he squeezed her tight and buried his nose in her soft hair, mumbling, "I wouldn't want it any other way,"

They didn't move once throughout the night, content to stay where they were - or at least content to be as close to each other as possible regardless of the general location. Then morning came, and with it came their next day of married life. It began with a sweet, sleepy kiss and the knowledge that whatever happened, they'd be there for one another. And every morning after that would be the same.

[eddielove]

[loryevrg]

Billy Knight / Strike - Ep. 4x01 (2017)

Eddie Munson / Stranger Things - Ep. 4x02 (2022)

Please someone create a petition for Joseph Quinn to have happy roles. This man acts amazingly and his characters deserve a happy ending.

[pollenallergie]

billy knight used to have terrible posture because of his raging insecurities and anxieties. however, billy knight now has terrible posture because your cat, dennis, seems to always want to be perched atop the flat of his shoulders whenever’s he’s stood upright. much like this:

dennis has needs, and those needs are to 1) be at the highest vantage point possible at all times while 2) maintaining constant contact with his favourite human, billy (you’re a second runner up). this peculiar and, unfortunately for billy, inconvenient position allows for both of dennis’s most pressing needs to be simultaneously met at all times.

luckily, billy has you to give him back and shoulder massages and to dote on him endlessly when the aches and the tension get to be too much for him. <3

[littlelioncub43]

The Balcony Scene

Summary: A long farewell after a date night is nothing new between you and your very dramatic and theatrical boyfriend. Young lovers often find parting is such sweet sorrow.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Gender Neutral!Reader

Warning: FLUFF. FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF. You will need to schedule a dentist appointment after this, established relationship, idiots in love, they recite Shakespeare to each other because they're so in love, Wayne being one of those dads/uncles, kissing, very tame stuff, you'll love it.

Word count: 1.4k

A/N: WELL, WELL, WELL. LOOK WHO'S BACK. Me. It's me. I'm back. I had this thought knocking around in my head for a long, long time and finally was able to get it out and completed in one sitting! Eddie seems like the type to be able to perfectly recite Shakespeare, especially after all the failed English classes— you may not come at me. Anyways! Comment! Reblog! Send an ask! A pigeon! An edible arrangement! Something! Let me know what you guys think! I missed you all hehe

Kisses 💋

—K

A soft song of the Indiana crickets floated through the summer breeze that brushed your skin, the sky was a gentle hue of all encompassing black, and the moon hung neatly in the corner of the heavens. The familiar block of the trailer park was quiet, the sleepy summer night lulled everyone into a trance at this late hour. Your night was divine, picturesque and flawless thanks to Eddie who always seemed to make any day infinitely better. He joked and laughed with you over the burger you shared at the diner, his effortless charm and beaming smile lit up the lamely lit booth you were squished into and sent butterflies fluttering through your entire being— even after all these years, you were still into him. 

Lovesick, is the word. Absolutely lovesick.

And Eddie wasn’t any better. 

The way he was gazing up at you from the bottom of your trailer’s porch, hands gripping the railing to be as close as he could to you without climbing the stairs, standing on his toes so your faces nearly touched while you lean over the railing to meet him halfway. Those puppy dog eyes that twinkled with mischief as a dungeon master, and glazed over with mind-rotting boredom as a student, were now dazzling with adoration as a lover. And damn, was a he a good lover at that. 

“You have to go soon, Wayne said you gotta be back before 3,” you whisper gently to your boyfriend, your hands making no motion to remove themselves from his hair as you cradle his head. 

“Mmhmm,” Eddie hums, clearly not listening to you completely. How could he when the glow of your porch light behind you made you look like an actual angel. You giggle and Eddie grins at the sound. 

“You jerk, you’re not even listening,” you chastise with a smile.

“I totally heard you,” he playfully defends in a soft voice, his eyes scanning your face leisurely. 

“What did I say?” You ask while you twirl a ringlet around your index finger. 

“You said that I should stay right here with you forever because you never want me to leave,” he grins again as you chuckle at his words. 

“Don’t you?” He asks and gives you his gentle pout, something he’s perfected over the years of being together: his eyebrows slightly pinched together and upwards, those button eyes silently pleading with yours, for your love, for your tenderness, for your sympathy. It always works. 

“Of course, I do,” you confess and cradle his face in your palm. Eddie couldn’t keep himself from you if his life depended on it. The collision of your lips sends even more winged things fluttering in your stomach, the soft cushion of his lips moving against yours sensually nearly sucks all the breath from your body then and there. Many minutes are lost in your sweet kisses, so many that by the time you both release each other for air, Eddie knows he’s late for curfew now. 

“Wayne’s gonna be pissed, I forgot to take out the trash,” Eddie breathes out humorously, his nose brushing against yours as he opens his mouth to speak once again, “he’s going to have my ass for not—“

“Enough, sweet Suffolk, thou torment’st thyself,” you press a finger to his kiss swollen lips, his grin grows at your words. 

“You bade me ban, and will you bid me leave?” He recites effortlessly. 

“Oh, look who’s been paying attention in English,” you tease. 

“Well, if you’re forced to read the same stupid plays 3 years in a row, something’s bound to stick,” he jokes before continuing, “Now, by the ground that I am banished from, well could I curse away a winter’s night, though standing naked on a mountain top where biting cold would never let grass grow, and think it but a minute spent in sport.”

“O, let me entreat thee cease! Give me thy hand, that I may dew it with my mournful tears, nor let the rain of heaven wet this place to wash away my woeful monuments” you bring one of Eddie’s large hands to your cheek, letting him brush the apple of it softly before you plant a peck to his palm. 

“O, could this kiss be printed in thy hand, that thou mightst think upon these by the seal, through whom a thousand sighs are breathed for thee!” The porch light across the road flickers to life, a sign from a very tired Wayne for Eddie’s return, but you both ignore it. Eddie watches in rapture as you recite the lines to him, not ready for his short walk home just yet. 

“So, get thee gone, that I may know my grief; tis but surmised whiles thou art standing by, as one that surfeits thinking on a want. I will repeal thee, or, be well assured, adventure to be banish’ed myself; and banish’ed I am, if but from thee,” the sound of the screen door opening breaks your eyes from each other over to Wayne, standing cross armed in his pajamas under the porch light, “Go, speak not to me. Even now be gone!” Eddie steals another kiss just as Wayne clears his throat, his hands gripping yours in earnest. “Embrace and kiss and take ten thousand leaves, loather a hundred times to part than die. Yet now farewell, and farewell life with thee.”

“Thus is poor Suffolk ten times banish’ed, once by the King, and three times thrice by thee. ’Tis not the land I care for, wert thou thence. A wilderness is populous enough, so Suffolk had thy heavenly company— for where thou art, there is the world itself, with every several pleasure in the world; and where thou art not, desolation,” he whispers against your lips, “I can no more. Live thou to joy thy life; myself no joy in naught but that thou liv’st.”

“Eddie!” Wayne calls in a hushed voice, mindful of the sleeping neighbors of the block. You know he’s about 2 minutes from crossing the street to get Eddie himself.

“Get thee hence. The King, thou know’st, is coming,” you giggle and push gently at Eddie’s broad shoulders, “if thou be found by me, thou art but dead.”

“If I depart from thee, I cannot live, and in thy sight to die, what were it else but like a pleasant slumber in thy lap? To die by thee were but to die in jest, from thee to die were torture more than death. O, let me stay, befall what may befall!” His grins when you try to shush his growing voice, your shared giggles making Wayne shake his head with a fond smile. You two were making him sick.

“To France, Sweet Suffolk,” you push at Eddie’s shoulder again, this time he slowly lets himself lower to the ground completely, still gazing up at you from the wild grass as waves of hopeless devotion pour from him. Eddie’s hand holds yours for as long as he can, his fingers gliding across the skin to savor the sensation, your warmth. 

“I go,” he nods, shifting on his feet as he finally begins to tear himself from you.

“And take my heart with thee,” you watch Eddie take a tentative step backwards, towards his waiting uncle, your hands still connected as he takes another step. Your arms reach out, fingers laced together until the distance between you is too great. 

“Alright, love birds, pack it in,” Wayne quietly calls, trying his best to speed up Eddie’s slow walk home. Straightening up, you watch as Eddie crosses the street, his eyes never leaving yours nor his smile ever faltering. When he reaches the middle of the road, he offers you a wave over his shoulder. You giggle and return his gesture, your face burning with a flurry of feelings.

Another fit of giddy giggles overtake you when Eddie nearly trips on the steps of his trailer. He’s quick to recover, taking the stairs two at a time before lingering at the doorway to stare at you a little while longer, his own face flushed with his happiness. Half in and half out, he raises his hand to wave again when a fatherly grip on the collar of his jacket carefully pulls him all the way in, the screen door bouncing against the frame in his absence. With a content sigh, you turn on your heel  and head for indoors, turning to glance at the trailer across the street. There in the corner of the bland building, behind an aged window, you find the boy next door. With wild hair and a sweet smile, he bids you goodnight. 

Comments and reblogs are always welcome and deeply appreciated! 💖🫂

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