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your-eternal-lies · 23 days

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LEFT HAND GREEN (oneshot)

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PAIRING — Loki x f!Reader SUMMARY — You hadn't planned on spending your Friday night playing a game of Twister chicken with a literal god, but hey—if it gets you to where you need to be...

WARNINGS — Plot? What plot? This is basically just porn (but with some feelings because, you know, romance). Minors, please do not interact.

LEFT HAND GREEN

"Didn't you hear me, Agent?" Comes a voice, smooth as silk yet twice as dangerous. "I said, left hand green."

You scowl, making a mental vow to yourself right then and there, that you will never again attend another one of Tony's stupid parties. You are swearing off alcohol. You are swearing off form-fitting dresses that make it hard to breathe. You are swearing off him.

Loki—god of mischief, former alien invader, and current persona non grata—your partner and the bane of your existence. The only reason the two of you have been paired together is because he's already gone through more agents than anyone can count, probably scaring them all off with the mere sounds of his batshit crazy.

Steve and Tony made it clear, while they understood your reluctance, that you should do everything in your power to make sure this partnership worked. They had run out of agents to assign him, and you were the only option left.

His usual Asgardian garb is gone tonight, replaced with the crisp clean lines of a white button-up shirt and dark trousers. His dark curls, usually slicked back with precision, not a single strand out of place, fall loosely around his face.

Maybe it was the bubbles from all that champagne that had you staring at him a little longer than usual. You normally can't stand him, his features laced with the same arrogance that had him playing puppeteer with an entire city. Your city. Despite his joining the Avengers, you haven't forgotten.

Although, you must admit, it's getting harder and harder to remember at this very moment. Especially while the two of you are a mess of tangled limbs, exposed skin, and harsh breathing.

Why did you take your clothes off again?

Oh right, you think as you glance over to where your little black dress lies abandoned on the floor. You were getting too warm from all that alcohol, and the fabric had been too restricting for a game of Twister.

Well, at least you're still wearing underwear.

All that smack talk you two had heatedly exchanged earlier comes back to bite you in the ass. He had declared that this was the most pathetic party he had ever seen. You, while not particularly fond of Tony's too lavish parties to begin with, still felt compelled to defend it out of pure spite and nothing else.

Wanda had brought the damned game, was met with a chorus of protesting groans, and then cast her big green eyes to the floor while mumbling sadly about how she'd never played before. The whole team then reluctantly caved, of course.

But soon, one by one, people decided to call it a night, eventually leaving you and your so-called partner standing before the wrinkled plastic mat, challenging each other to another round because obviously there wasn't even any competition.

He arrogantly proclaimed that victory would be his, by a landslide.

You proudly declared that you were much more flexible.

And now his large body looms over you, all sharp angles and smirks, his hands placed firmly on the mat at either side of you. Meanwhile, you try to maintain your balance, your arms and legs awkwardly bent underneath you... your lace-covered chest thrust up into his face, the warm puffs of his breath dancing across your skin.

"Enjoying the view?" You grit sarcastically, rolling your eyes as he grins down at your heaving breasts. You lift your left hand and try for the closest green circle, huffing in annoyance when it remains just barely out of reach.

"Why, yes," he confesses, his face so close that his lips brush against one of your bra cups. "Midgardian fashion is just so... quaint."

You roll your eyes, not bothering to entertain his response, trying not to focus on the infuriating shape of his mouth, your limbs straining as you try and reach that blasted green circle.

"And obviously you agree, seeing as you couldn't stop staring at me all night."

Now, that makes your ears perk up. "Excuse me? I wasn't—"

"You forget who you're dealing with, dearie," he chuckles, the sound scraping against your every nerve... especially a particularly eager one between your legs. "How do you expect to convince everyone you hate me... when you look at me like that all the time?"

"Like what?"

"Like you want to bury me and consume me all at the same time."

"You are delusional, Laufeyson, as always," you bark, turning your head away so you can't get lost in those dangerous blue eyes. "Focus up; I want to win this damn game already. I'd rather not spend a minute more with you than I have to."

"That's a bit rich, coming from someone who's underneath me whilst half-naked," his lips curve up into a smile, and you can almost feel the movement against your chest. "But I suppose this could serve to... strengthen our partnership."

"A partnership implies equality and trust," you say, your shoulders and thighs starting to ache from trying to maintain your position. "I definitely do not trust you as far as I can throw you, and you obviously don't see me as an equal."

"Says who?" Loki drawls, and the room seems to shrink beneath the weight of his question. "In fact, darling, as much as it pains me to admit, you're the only one around here worth talking to."

"Stop trying to distract me," you mutter, your brow furrowing in concentration. You try not to think about how long it's been since you were this close to a man... you know, when you aren't twisting him into a headlock or kicking the absolute shit out of him.

"Ah, so I distract you?" Again with that smirk. That smirk that makes you painfully aware that he's destructive, pompous, and always so fucking patronizing—exactly your type, apparently, given the way your nipples pebble beneath the lace of your bra.

"I will smack you," you threaten halfheartedly, angling your body slightly to make one last attempt at completing your turn.

"Careful, mortal," the teasing and good humour are gone from his voice now, replaced with something else much more treacherous, "your heart beats too loudly."

"Then stop listening," you grunt, your torso inadvertently sliding along his. You freeze when he hisses, right when you feel your lower abdomen come in contact with his groin.

"Impossible," he groans loudly, his head tossed back and exposing the long white column of his throat. You swallow hard the urge to lean forward and bite him. "Who's distracting who, exactly?"

You gape up at him, frozen, feeling something hard against your hip. "Is that—are you—?"

The shock of it all causes your elbow to give under your own weight, sending you crashing down onto the plastic mat. Loki lowers himself onto you almost immediately, trapping you between him and the floor.

"Looks like you lost," he declares, his large hands already circling your wrists and pinning you to the mat. "Do I get to claim my prize now?"

"We never agreed—" you struggle against him, your voice failing when he leans in close, your noses almost touching.

"Terms can be negotiated, darling," the god whispers, eyes absolutely blazing, flashing with a hint of green that makes your clit throb. "The timing, however, not so much. I'd like to collect now."

All thoughts of distancing yourself evaporate instantly as his mouth crashes onto yours, his hands leaving yours to slide down your arms, finding their way around the band of your bra. He latches onto you like he's starving for whatever you're offering, his tongue dragging across the seam of your lips.

Without thinking, you open for him.

You begin wondering what he is truly the god of, because with each stroke of his tongue, you swear you're being struck by lightning.

God dammit, you're kissing Loki—something your wandering mind had certainly entertained before, but never expected to happen.

And it feels so damn good.

"I see you everywhere I go, Agent," he confesses against your lips, his warmth leaving your skin as he sits back on his haunches, making a show out of unbuttoning his shirt and revealing inch after inch of perfect unblemished skin. He shrugs the garment off, a mesmerizing sight as the delicate material whispers along his sculpted arms and falls to the floor. "I can taste you in the air I breathe."

"Lo..." your voice isn't working, other than to let out a series of whimpers and moans as his hands return. This time, they find their way to your hips, his fingers teasing a path underneath the waistband of your panties and then gently pulling them off.

You clutch the plastic mat underneath you, breath quickening as he lowers his face to your newly exposed sex. The moment his tongue touches your aching clit, stars explode. Loki is relentless in the pursuit of your pleasure, the sounds and vibrations of his groans getting lost inside you as he completely buries his face in the wetness of your desire.

You screech as your hips buck forward, gasping over and over again as he practically tortures you with his tongue. He is not quiet about it either, the room filled with the sounds of his sucking and slurping while the pressure in your belly begins to burn out of control.

But just as you are about to be catapulted over the edge, he releases his hold on your lips and pushes your thighs further apart to make room for him. His hands are a blur of movement at the front of his trousers, the rasp of the zipper so loud in the empty room, before his cock spills out from between the layers of fabric, already rock hard and pointing right at you.

Loki covers you with his warmth immediately, finding his place between your legs and grunting when you wrap them around his hips. His hands squeeze your breasts and lift them higher, enough to take one into his mouth, lace and all.

"Yes!" You cry out as he sucks at you shamelessly, fingers tracing the swell of your tits, swirling his tongue around your sensitive peaks until your bucking against him, trying to relieve the tension between your thighs. His teeth clamps down as one hand snakes down your torso, finding its way to your aching pussy, unceremoniously sliding two fingers deep inside you.

Loki draws back, admiring the bite mark just above the edge of your bra cup, his lips curving up into a satisfied smile.

"Well, aren't you a vision?" He growls as his fingers move faster inside you, the heel of his palm rubbing against your swollen clit. His erection grazes your thigh, twitching as if begging for attention, but Loki seems unbothered as his eyes darken just a shade. "Beg me."

"Ugh," this son of a bitch; you would slap him if you weren't so desperate to come. "Fuck you!"

"Not quite what I was looking for," he murmurs as he removes his fingers from your hole. He replaces them with the swollen head of his cock, teasing your entrance with maddeningly slow circles.

"Loki," you threaten, the tone of your voice leaving nothing up for debate, but that was all it took. Hearing his name like that goes straight to his hips, them punching forward almost as soon as you said it, sheathing himself inside you with one smooth thrust.

His own breathing becomes laboured as he keeps the pace brisk, unable to help pushing in and out of you, relishing the way your muscles clenched and trembled as you fully embraced his hard length.

"I tell myself I still yearn for Asgard's throne," he manages between thrusts, voice barely above a whisper as he continues to fuck you into the mat, his hips smacking into the back of your thighs. "That this pitiful planet is nothing more than a chessboard, a stepping stone towards my glorious purpose."

Your fingers wind themselves into his hair, your bodies reacting to each other more fervently with each passing second. Despite yourself, you tilt your chin up as if to silently beg for another kiss, the faintest whine escaping your throat when he doesn't oblige.

"But somewhere between your infuriating presence," he grunts, punctuating his words with a particularly brutal thrust, drawing another pleasured cry from your lips. "And the chaos of this world, I find myself torn... between the call of power and the unexpected allure of something far more perilous."

You want to say something back, but he fucks you so deep it's like you can feel him right up against your throat. All you can do is hold onto him, gasping for breath, hanging on for dear life.

"Feelings. Sentiment. For you." He spits out the words like they're foreign, distasteful even, his hips keeping up their cruel punishment, but his eyes are almost kind when they find yours. His lips hover just a hair's breadth from yours, teasing and tantalizing as his body invades you over and over again.

His confession hangs heavy in the air, charged with a cocktail of what looks like regret and a vulnerability you never expected to witness from him. You feel your walls of defence crack, just a hairline fracture, but allowing more than enough room for him to slip through.

"You say I distract you?" He thrusts harder, the tip of his cock finding a spot inside you that makes you let go of the last tiny string holding any remnants of your composure together. Stars explode behind your eyes as you squeeze them closed, the plastic mat sticking to your sweaty back as you arch up into your orgasm.

You feel Loki lean forward and bite your shoulder, grunting as he fucks you through your climax, a few more thrusts before he himself tenses inside you. His hold on you softens, his teeth retreating and replaced with the soft cushioning of his lips, all the while his hips jerk again and again as he spills hot rushes of fluid into you.

You lay exhausted on the floor, sweaty and dishevelled and wrapped in a tarp of colourful circles and still joined together. You close your eyes, trying to catch your breath as Loki slowly and carefully wraps his arms around you, but doesn't remove himself from the warmth of your body.

"My dear, you're the one who won't leave me be."

Fin.

NOTES — Well then. I am definitely not going to church this morning 👀

#loki x reader #loki x f!reader #loki x female reader #loki x fem!reader #loki x you #loki fanfiction #loki oneshot #loki smut #loki fluff #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson x f!reader #loki laufeyson fanfic #loki laufeyson smut #loki laufeyson fluff #summer's fics

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gretavanbrie · 6 months

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Landslide (J.T.K.)

Summary: You’ve loved him for as long as you can remember, does he feel the same?

Pairings: Jake Kiszka x F!Reader

Warnings: no smut for this part just pure ANGST ;), established friendship, swearing, unrequited love, light portrayal of anger, jake & y/n are a little dramatic but aren’t we all?? mentions of childhood, alcohol consumption… if I missed anything lmk, I’ll fix it no issue!!

A/N: I’m actually really excited for this one!! This is based on the winning answer of this poll I did, if you guys are looking for a bit more context on what this is about. I may have hurt my own feelings a couple times amidst writing this, I had my Jake lane friend read it and she was not too happy with me so hopefully this will strike a nerve for you guys as well!! If not that’s cool too! My writing is pretty sporadic so I’m gonna try and put out as much content as I can if you guys end up liking this story. I’m a waitress so my hours are long and unpredictable I do apologize in advance lol. I’m debating on if I should leave this as is, or make two long parts, or even start a mini series…not too sure yet but lmk what you think!!! Also this is vaguely proof read. If there are any mistakes, bare with me.

Part 2 | Part 3

Here you were, standing in front of the mirror, clammy hands nervously smoothing down the fabric of the dress you adorned. You made it a point to pull out all of the stops today, you’d washed and beautifully dried your hair. You gave one last look at your makeup before running your hands through your hair and heading to grab your bag. You let out a shaky breath picking up your phone.

The boys were back from tour and some mutual friends were having a little gathering as a welcome back. Any other time you wouldn’t have been so uneasy but the conversation you had with Josh had been replaying in your head the entire time they’ve been gone.

“Are you ever going to tell him?” You immediately recognize that voice.

Everyone was outside as the small farewell party for the commence of the tour had somehow migrated towards the backyard of Josh’s lovely home. You clear your throat in an attempt to rid the uneasiness in your voice.

“Excuse me?” You turn setting down the bottle of wine you were going to pour for yourself. He stood at the entryway of the kitchen as you feigned a confused expression to which he saw right through.

“Y/n..we may not hang out as much as you and my brother do but I still know you just as well. If not more, it seems” you just stared at him for a moment trying to find a good way out of this before quickly turning around and finished pouring yourself a glass. With your back still turned you speak up knowing there’s no use in hiding it anymore, if there was one person you could trust with this information it would be him.

“It’s just not a conversation to be had, he’s my best friend nothing more. It’s just a silly crush it’ll go away” you waved your hand to seemingly brush it off as you turned to face him. Not the whole truth, but not necessarily a lie? God you didn’t even believe yourself, how could you expect him to. You brought the glass to your lips letting the smooth red ease your nerves.

“A silly crush that’s lasted since senior year?” The minute those words left his mouth your eyes widened in shock. Quickly swallowing to refrain from spitting your drink all over his nice white shirt.

“What do you mean by that?” you stare inquisitively not knowing he was privy to just how deep this ‘silly crush’ had run.

“Oh c’mon don’t play coy. Like I said, I know you. We were friends first..lest you forget.” You giggled recalling the vague memory of 2nd grade recess, he stepped further into the room before continuing on.

“You keep too much to yourself, you’ve gotta stop sacrificing your own needs for the sake of what you think the other person wants. Disregard me as his brother for the time being, right now I’m coming to you as a friend. I’m not here to pressure you into telling him anything, that is your own decision to make. I just want you to ask yourself if this is what you really want. I mean come on your twenty-seven now y/n. You think I haven’t noticed that you’ve refused to see anyone since summer going into senior year?’

“That’s not true” you cut him off, defending yourself.

“I wasn’t completely celibate I was seeing that one guy Liam for some time… a-and Henry my sophomore year of college. I’m just not looking for anything.” Truth was, you were at one point. You convinced yourself getting under someone was the only way to get over another. Until you realized neither of them were Jake and that’s why you could never see them as a part of the long haul.

“And did you ever make it official with them? Or better yet, did they last any longer than 8 months?’ He challenged. You looked down at your feet defeated knowing there’s no use in denying any more. You know he knows. There was a beat of silence before you spoke up once more.

“I’d rather him be my friend than nothing at all, Josh.” you said quietly looking up at him as he embraced you in a hug running his hands through your hair.

You hear him sigh before he quietly speaks into your hair.

“I know.”

———————————————————————————

You shut your eyes and shook your head as if to rid the memory. You had wracked your brain enough about it. Josh was right and you knew it, it’s been nearly 10 years but you hadn’t always had feelings for Jake. For a while actually you would nearly gag at the mere thought. Albeit there wasn’t much room for romance during the pre-pubescent “cootie” stage of your life.

Your parents and the Kiszka’s became rather close throughout the years. You and the Kiszka clan wreaked borderline havoc growing up. With all the trouble you got into it was only a matter of time your parents would cross paths. Once they realized the five of you were inseparable they decided there was no use in staying strangers. Danny and his family soon came into the picture and you considered yourselves a bond to never be broken from that point on.

Although Jake had deemed you guy’s best friends summer going into 5th grade year, you were closest to Ronnie in high school. You were girls together. During the time of first periods and finding out boys can be attractive you migrated towards each other and found solace together within the testosterone-tainted group you had formed. You’d always struggled making friends, you didn’t normally speak unless spoken to. You weren’t necessarily shy, you just always felt like you didn’t really fit in with all the rest.

Once you crossed paths with Josh 2nd grade, he left you no choice but to be his friend. He was overly inviting and basically dragged you to join him on whatever crazy idea him and his twin had gotten into next. You chose to not complain given he was actually nice to you and took time in making sure to include you.

You had remained school friends for the years following, hangouts limited to recess and lunchtime until around the summer before 5th grade when you moved a few houses down from their own. You saw them playing outside from your bedroom window one day and begged your mom to run down there and greet your friends.

You and your ponytail came flying out of the house screaming “Josh! Jake! It’s me!!! From Ms. Crowley’s Class!!! I live by you now!!!”

“Y/n!! Is it really you!! We can play at home now!!” Josh exclaimed, his twins' smile growing ten fold.

“You have to meet my brother and sister, we can all play together now!” Jake said, calling out for Ronnie and Sam. You were quickly introduced to the two and although they were a couple years younger, you were kids, and found joy in whatever silly games you had come up with together nonetheless.

As you sat up against the tree cooling off from the intense game of freeze tag you all had just played, you saw Jake walk up and sit beside you.

“I can’t believe you moved close to my house, loser. Today was fun.” the boy said, ruffling your hair.

‘Hey! Quit! I’m not a loser.” you laughed pushing his arm away.

“Yea-huhh, that’s why you couldn’t catch me during tag.” he mocked, you squint your eyes at him playfully before pushing him away from you.

“That’s why you have cooties!” You retaliated feeling defensive now.

“See! Sore loooserrr” Jake sing-songed.

‘You’re being a meanie now Jakey, it’s just a game” you pouted looking to your feet. You probably were just being sensitive but you hadn’t known better. His expression softened realizing his words might’ve stricken a nerve.

“Oh come on, you know I’m kidding, you’re my new best friend. Especially now that we live so close” he said, lips tugging into a shy smile as he softly elbowed at your side. You whipped your head up to look at him

“You think I’m your best friend? You promise?” You said as hopeful eyes met his own. No one had ever made it a point to deem you as such. A friend is one thing, but a best friend was something far more special in your mind.

“Pinky promise.” he assured, hooking your smallest of fingers with his own.

————————————————————————————

The sentiment was sweet and you were thankful you had friends like them growing up, it made life a little easier knowing you had a constant. Easier until teenage hormones came into the picture and Jake was no longer your boy-ish ‘best friend’ and had started growing handsomely into his features. His face became more chiseled, his chest a bit more filled out, voice dropping a couple octaves lower and not to mention he grew taller. It all happened too fast for your awkward teenage self to process. One day he was regular old Jake and the next he was…hot.

So, you did what you thought was best. Denied any and all attraction and gaslighted yourself into thinking it would go away. It was Jacob for fucks sake, your life-long friend who you considered a brother to you. You and Ronnie had gotten suspiciously closer that year, you brushed it off as ‘needed girl time’ but as years passed you realized you were just trying to distract yourself from Jake in hopes that if you saw him less, the attraction would eventually metastasize.

Boy were you wrong because Jake was adamant on including you in every hangout as he began to gain popularity. You had convinced yourself things would drift off throughout high school, thinking the boys would deem themselves ‘too cool’ to hang with you now and the silly pinky promise he made would be brushed off as immature to him. But it wasn’t, he instead kept his promise. His friends soon becoming your own, girlfriends never lasting long because ‘you and Ronnie are more important to me than any other girl’ he says. Finding yourself at their house more often than you had expected for this new chapter of your life and before you knew it, you had grown closer than ever, and your growing crush more suppressed than ever.

You were shaken out of your thoughts as your phone began buzzing. An incoming call from none other than Veronica herself. You quickly picked it up, bringing the phone to your ear.

“Girl where are you?! You promised you’d be here by the time I got here” you heard her whine on the other end. “Everyone is already mingling, the boys are late yet again and I have no one!” You laughed into the line knowing she was just exaggerating.

“Oh come on Ron, it can’t be that bad you know Mike a-and Dave’s girlfriend.” You tried reasoning, knowing you’d be just as anxious if your friends hadn’t showed up just yet.

“I’m sure they’re already there, talk to them for a little bit okay? I’m sorry, I’m leaving now I just got caught up finding what to wear” you continued, not necessarily a lie although you didn’t want her to know the real reason you were stalling was because today could possibly change the entire trajectory of your life. Dramatic to say the least, but true.

“It’s okay y/n, I was giving you shit. I’ll be fine… wait a minute. Did you say you were looking for something to wear?? You’ve never cared about that stuff, who are you trying to look good forrrrrr?” she teased.

“‘Oh hush Ronnie, it's just been a while since I’ve gone out and felt hot. Just needed a boost of confidence today is all, no secret fella or anything” you giggled.

“Yet…” she laughed.

“Yea yea whatever, let me go so I can head over” you said grabbing your keys and slipping on your shoes.

“Okay okay, byeeee love you!” She said before quickly hanging up.

“Love you too” you said to no one in particular, smiling to yourself at your dear friend's abruptness.

There was no reason for you to be so nervous, it’s just the boys and Ronnie. It was Jake that had you so uneasy. You had replayed yours and Josh’s conversation enough times to knock some sense into yourself. You weren’t going to lay it on him full force but tonight was your chance to let your guard down and not shy away from him. Maybe even flirt, as best you could anyway, if things were smooth sailing. He’s been single for some time this was your chance to maybe plant a couple seeds. You wanted to see if there was even the slight off-chance he may just like you back and you’d be able to look back at how foolish keeping it from him was.

It was easier said than done as you started second guessing your entire look. You felt as though everyone would think you were trying too hard but that wasn’t the case, you’d gone out in more extravagant looks than the white linen sundress you settled on. It was flowy and stunning, casual but beautiful enough to make you feel at your best. Your hair cascaded beautifully down your back from your blowout, you put on your expensive perfume. You felt great, the only significant difference was that you wore a little extra makeup and you took the time to do your nails. You knew it was purely the anxiety talking. Plus, no one even knows how you feel about him other than Josh.

In attempts to calm yourself, your hand reaches for your phone as you stop at a light. Opening your Spotify you hit shuffle on your playlist. You sighed and smiled as the familiar guitar from Cannock Chase by Labi Siffre started playing. You and Jake loved this song, singing it on too many drunken nights to count. It truly was a beautiful song. You decided to just enjoy yourself and let the evening take its course rather than stressing out about it.

————————————————————————————

You pull into the long driveway of your friend Spencer’s house seeing all the cars parked out front. You find a good spot and walk up to the door seeing a few others talking by the front steps, you recognize his fiancé and smile politely walking towards her.

“My god, y/n is that you? You look absolutely stunning.” She smiled as she wrapped her arms around you before pulling away and linking arms, guiding you towards the entrance of her and Spencer’s shared home.

“Mmm and you always smell amazing, have you been inside yet? We missed you like crazy, Ronnie’s been inside waiting. I think the boys are here already though-“

“Thank you Claire, I appreciate it. I’ll be sure to find them” you cut her off smiling gently as you gave her hand one last squeeze before stepping inside. Claire is a lovely woman but has a bad habit of rambling, you find it endearing but others seem to tire of her rather quickly.

Upon crossing the threshold into their home you’re immediately greeted by the short brunette.

“Finally! The boys are here, come on, we've been wondering where you were.” You nervously laughed as Ronnie grabbed your hand and dragged you towards the backyard.

You weave through the small bunch of people gathered in the living room and kitchen before you walk through to the sliding door, stepping onto the patio. Josh spots you and immediately heads over to give you the warmest of hugs.

“I knew it was you, I’d recognize that perfume anywhere. Glad you could make it little one” you smiled in his embrace at his terms of endearment, your cheeks warmed at the sentiment.

“Thank you Joshy, I’m so happy to finally see you. It’s been far too long.” you smiled up at him before you were quickly swept away.

You startled as you felt strong arms wrap around your waist from behind lifting you up and twirling you. You laughed recognizing the familiar cologne, you see his chestnut brown locks as he sets you down.

“And who might this lovely lady be?” Jake jokes, stepping back to get a good look at you.

“What an extravagant greeting, I see you’ve been gone long enough to forget about a girl like me” you joked back, hand coming up to rest on our chest as you feigned a look of hurt. Your favorite bit with him now taking it’s course.

“Ahhh, nonsense. A girl like you? Unforgettable'' he assured in his familiar cockney accent flashing you that infamous smirk you’ve grown to love. You looked down bashfully as you blushed yet again. You’ve almost grown sick of how quickly he can turn you into mush, you know he means nothing by it. You can’t help but wish maybe he did.

“Oh come on, you’re just saying that.” You laughed as you walked over to pour yourself some wine. Opting for a white this time given your attire. God forbid your nerves get the better of you and you spill it all over yourself.

You can’t help but notice you and Jake had accidentally coordinated outfits. He bore a cream colored blazer, akin to his cream colored pants. The muted brown button up he had on underneath was unsurprisingly left open with a couple of his pendants decorating his chest. He looked handsome, to say the least.

“Hmm you don’t sound so excited to see your lifelong friend, I’ve been gone for months and this is the treatment I receive?” He exaggerates, giggles escaping between words not able to take himself seriously.

“I thought we were besties y/n” he laughs, feigning a hurt expression knowing that would make you crack.

You can’t help but let a giggle escape your lips, the joke now running dry.

“Alright, alright. I guessss I missed you '' you say, wrapping both your arms around his waist. He gives the quickest peck to the top of your head.

“It’s good to see you sunshine, been too long” he gives you one last squeeze, you smiled at the old nickname he called you as you pulled away.

“Did you forget about us?!” You hear Danny exclaim. You whipped your head towards the back door sliding closed as the self-proclaimed “better half” of the band stepped outside.

“How could I? With the million random voice notes I’m sent a day…not a chance” You tease walking up to hug Sam.

“Glad I could aid, you look fantastic y/n. Definitely better than when we left” Sam teased tapping his chin as if in deep thought.

“Hey! Not cool man.” you jokingly retort as Danny comes up to give you a side hug.

“Yeah your hair’s longer or something or..you put on blush? Fuck, I tried. I don’t know what girls do but you look great” Danny says pulling back to examine you, you blushed at all the sweet gestures.

“She’s always been a looker!” Josh blurts in his exaggerated Midwest accent, raising his brows giving you a cheeky smile. You giggle at his candor.

“Yeah? You’re like…glowing, I’m glad to see you so happy. Also I didn’t tell you when I saw you but I don’t know why you were nervous on what to wear, this dress looks beautiful on you” Ronnie says smoothing out the flyaways on the top of your head. You and Josh make eye contact, he flashes you a look knowing exactly why you were nervous before averting his eyes and taking a sip of his mixed drink.

“Thank you guys I really really appreciate it, but this is a celebration for you! We haven’t seen each other in quite some time, let's make the most of it yeah?” You say raising your glass.

Jake would never say it out loud because he loved teasing you, but you did look rather beautiful today. Sam was right, you looked different. Good different. Maybe it was the hair, or maybe it was having some stress-free months without them. Jake knew they could be quite the handful and maybe this time away from each other caused this new glow, so he thought.

Whatever it was, he admired the way your hair blew softly in the wind. How the midday sun had created the perfect glow on your skin. He especially loved how the sweetness of your perfume matched your sweet personality. He was extremely proud to have you in his life.

“Cheers to that!” Sam exclaims raising his seltzer can.

“Alright! First order of business now that we’re all here "Josh butts in, waving a finger in the air. We wait patiently for his supposed plans, all you hear is the faint music for a second before he speaks up again.

“Yeah.. I’ve got nothing. Although it is a rather beautiful day..” he continues looking around at the beautiful midday sunlight. The six of us break into laughter at his wit.

“Doesn’t Spencer have a pool table? I say we play a couple rounds and catch up?" Sam offers looking around for approval.

‘I’m in, everybody down?” Jake speaks up, moving to stand beside you. Hums of approval circulate as we all migrate inside towards the billiards table. Before you fully enter Spencer’s spare room you feel a hand on your lower back. Turning, you're met with Jake's familiar caramel eyes.

“Hey.. whenever you’ve got time, you mind if I get a word alone with you?” He asks. You should feel worried given the question but he seemed…excited? You couldn’t precisely read the emotion clouding his irises.

‘Um, sure. I-is everything okay” you couldn’t help the anxiety that burned in your chest.

“More than. Just gotta share something special with you.” He says flashing you a warm smile, quickly easing your nerves.

“Okay then, I’d love that.” You smile before you two make your way inside the room seeing a couple of others have also decided they wanted a go at pool. You spot Ronnie sitting next to Danny on the loveseat and plop down beside her. Taking a long sip from your wine.

“Thirsty?” She laughs, boy she has no idea.

“Yea just needed some refreshment in my life, you know?” you wink at her before setting your glass on the table beside you. She giggles before continuing her conversation with Danny. You watch as the boys argue over who gets solids and who gets stripes.

“You ever gonna learn how to play pool y/n?” Jake teases knowing you’ve never been the best at it. You decide to entertain it.

“Only if I come across a good enough teacher.” You quip smiling up at him.

“Come on then, I think I know a guy” he smirks, reaching his hand out to help you up. You gently take his into your own, pulling yourself onto your feet. Josh takes your spot on the couch as Jake walks you both towards the table and hands you the stick.

You smile at Sam on the other side of the table. You immediately try and get into position going solely based on what you’ve seen. You hear a chuckle behind you as Jake presses himself against your back and adjusts your aim so it’s pointing towards the white ball. Your breath hitches in your throat at the proximity. He clears his throat before abruptly stepping back and shoving his hands in his pockets. Weird.

“Your position was correct, but you were pointing at the black one..you definitely don’t wanna shoot at that just yet” he laughs. “The white one does your dirty work, use it to bounce a striped ball into the closest hole. You and Sam will take turns shooting at your respective balls unless-“ you can’t help but snort, you quickly cover your mouth realizing you’ve interrupted him.

“Hey, get your mind out of the gutter” you just shrug as he smiles. He continues on demonstrating and explaining the rules until you feel confident enough to play a match by yourself. You were grateful Jake has always been so patient with you.

‘You got this y/n!” You hear Ronnie cheer, flashing you her bright smile. You blow her a kiss as Sam initiates the game. Your turn comes and you throw your hair over your shoulders and lean into position. Jake quickly averts his eyes to be respectful although Josh wasn’t shy with it at all.

“Damn mama, lookin good.” he playfully winks, raising his glass to you.

“Oh hush” you laugh before making your first shot that unfortunately didn’t go in but after a couple tries you got the hang of it and you and Sam were down to a close match. You hear Danny and Josh narrating the match like some football game as it comes down to the last few balls on the table until eventually only the 8-ball remains.

This was it. You were one hit away from winning, if you missed this Sam would win and you wouldn’t let that boastful man win any time soon. You may have calmed down over the years but you were still just as competitive as your younger self. You adjust the stick between your fingers, closing one eye to aim just right.

Point. Shoot.

The familiar thud of the ball falling in sounds. You swiftly turn to the long-haired man standing behind you.

“I did it Jake, I did it!!” You exclaim getting lost in the short high of your win. Letting your excitement get the best of you, you tackle him in a hug wrapping your arm around his neck.

“Can’t believe it took you so long to give in and actually play” he says, arms still wrapped around you, pulling back and staring at you. The realization settling in that you may be way too close for comfort. You swore you saw his eyes flicker down to your lips, you brushed it off as wishful thinking. You allow your eyes to run across his face a couple times. Seeing how the tour has treated him. His stubble subtly grew atop his lip, focusing on how soft they looked. His hands tighten around your waist as his breathing picks up. You realize you’ve lingered for too long as silence washes over the room.

You loosen your grip on him and step away from his embrace. You look around seeing everyone had dispersed talking with others. Suddenly feeling very awkward, you clear your throat adjusting the fabric of your dress before combing your fingers in your hair in an attempt to recollect yourself seeing as you now feel incredibly flushed. You clear your throat before speaking up.

“I think I’m gonna step out for a sec” you smile meekly, grabbing your glass.

“N-no yeah, by all means” he gestures towards the door adjusting the lapel of his coat that you had so desperately clung onto moments before.

————————————————————————————

You rush out smiling politely at everyone you pass on your way to the back deck. The sun has started to set, the beautiful golden hour shining brighter than ever across the yard. You step outside feeling the breeze brush past your skin, quietly thankful there was no one out here. You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear as you sit on the porch swing.

You stare off trying to process whatever the fuck that was. God, he just made your heart flutter without any thought. The way he leaned up against you. The way his eyes seemingly locked onto your lips for a split second. It was all too much, were you being delusional? Either way you needed a breather before you made any mistakes. He was your friend, he would never deem you as anything more. He’s seen all your ugly awkward phases, there’s no way he’d see you in any sort of romantic light especially with the amount of beautiful women he meets, he could have anyone.

“Can we talk?” You heard his voice as the sliding door shut. You turn and meet Jake’s eyes as he steps closer in your direction.

“Of course! Sorry, I didn’t mean to just run off. I think the riesling might’ve gotten to me a bit” you force a laugh.

“Come sit” you continue as you pat the spot next to you on the swing. He adjusts his coat before taking a seat and running his hands through his hair.

“Ahh don’t worry about it, I just figured I wanna tell you sooner than later. This is special to me and I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while” his tight-lipped smile showing as he toys with his bracelets before looking up and turning to face you.

He grabs both your hands in his and your heart beat quickly accelerates.

“You’re important to me, y/n. And I think it’s time I share this with you, I can’t hide it any longer. I've been avoiding it because I couldn’t find the right words to say…” he says as his eyes lock in on your own, his thumb gently rubbing over your fingers.

What the fuck is happening? You think to yourself.

“What is it, Jake? You can tell me anything you know..” you say hopeful eyes gazing up at him.

If this was going in the direction you’d hoped, all your dreams would come true. You quickly brushed it off not wanting to get your hopes up.

“I know, sunshine.” He chuckles softly.

“Um, I wanna start by saying I value how close we are which is why I need to make this known..”

Oh my god, is he…

“I’ve been deciding on wether or not I want to pursue this and I don’t think the answer could’ve been clearer, its been in front of me this whole time for fucks sake” he gives a breathy laugh as he scoots closer, eyes boring into your own. His eyebrows furrow for a moment like he’s unsure if he should continue but it's quickly replaced by a smile.

This is it.. is this his way of telling you he feels it too?

“Fuck it I’m just gonna say it..”

Please say what I think you're gonna say..

“Yeah?” You prod, the hope in your tone making you internally cringe.

“..I started seeing someone from our crew…i really like her y/n” he smiled looking at his shoes.

Oh.

The minute those words left his mouth your world seemingly went mute. Your ears rung like you had just been dunked under water. Your smile faded as your face became agonizingly hot and your throat tightened. How could you be so foolish? You should’ve known better. Of course he wasn’t about to confess his undying love for you as you would to him, you let your hopeless romanticism take over and now you’ve hurt your own feelings. Your dress suddenly feeling too tight on your body. You hair was touching all the wrong places. There probably was no need for the internalized dramatics but you wanted to crawl out of your own skin right now.

“Earth to y/n? Aren’t you gonna say anything” he laughs, scanning your face for any sort of emotion. You’d learned how to keep a good poker face dealing with his plethora of girlfriends. You faked a bright smile as tears threatened to spill over.

“Y-yeah!” You clear your throat realizing your voice has broken.

“Is everything okay?” He asks cutting you off before you could continue on. You still kept the insufferably wide fake smile on your face.

“Everything’s great! I'm just so happy for you Jakey, she must be a very special girl and I'm glad you’ve found someone who can put a smile like that on your face” you said, taking your hands from his grasp and rubbing his arm. You made sure to bring out your old nickname for him to convince him you were being sincere.

Jake was listening intently but knew you were lying. He’s known you for years, if he had know any better he’d say you looked heartbroken but decided not to press on it.

‘There’s no way she’s upset, she sees me as just a friend.’ Jake thinks to himself.

“Y-yea i just wanted to tell you today ‘cause she’ll be here any minute now and i’d love for you and Ronnie to finally meet her” he says, now seemingly unsure of himself.

“Wow! Y-yeah.. I mean I’d love to!” You say nervously running your fingers through your hair. God, how were you gonna get through meeting her so soon after the love of your life, who didn’t know he was the love of your life, had just single-handedly shattered your heart.

“Great, i'm so happy you’re my best friend sunshine” he says standing up opening his arms signaling he wants a hug. You rise and give him a quick embrace.

“Yea… me too.” You say as you try and fight off the tears once his arms wrap around you.

You excuse yourself to grab another drink. You rush inside but of course you just had run into Josh on your way to find the strongest bottle of alcohol this house could provide.

“Woah slow down little lady— hey… you okay?” he says, noticing your glossy eyes.

“Peachy. Now, if you’ll excuse me for just one second” you say trying to squeeze past.

“Ah-ah-ah, not until you tell me what’s got you in such a hurry.” He says grabbing your wrist.

“I just need a second alone, please josh..” your voice trails off into whisper, you were trying your best to stay composed but the more he kept poking and prodding at this fresh wound the more afraid you were of completely imploding.

“Oh, okay..” he complies, releasing his grip as he watches you snatch the entire bottle of wine and make your way to the guest bathroom. You were gonna need some liquid courage to withstand meeting whoever this chick is. You didn’t mean to be so sour but you felt foolish.

————————————————————————————

You sat down on the closed toilet seat after locking the bathroom door and thanked whomever that this wine bottle was a twist cap. You took a few sips before processing everything.

10 years.

10 years of convincing yourself that this would go away, but it somehow only grew stronger.

10 years of being irrevocably in love with one of your closest friends.

You were stupid enough to think he would feel the same way when he’s legitimately touring the world and has any girl he chooses at his feet.

Why couldn’t it be me?

I should’ve spoken up sooner. It’s all too late. Would he have even liked me back?

You let your head drop as tears clouded your vision, you succumbed to just letting them fall freely now that you were in private.

You wept for your inner teenage self knowing all she wanted got squashed right before your eye. Life can turn on a dime, you shouldn’t have wasted so much time hoping one day he just might make a move. I mean josh was right, you pathetically remained single because you only had eyes for his brother… for the most part. You’ve mingled but none of them could ever truly get your mind off of him. And for what? He’s just a guy. Albeit, a guy who is incredibly kind to you, knows all your in’s and out’s. How you like your coffee, all your favorite songs. He knew that you had to sleep with one extra blanket in bed because the only way you can fall asleep is if you're wrapped up in it. He knew that you would only ever accept flowers if at least one of the petals has wilted because lest we forget, we too are all but a little damaged. He’d grown to know all your weird habits as if it was second nature to him. He was what every girl desired.

You'd devoted yourself to him, built your life around him almost. Your earliest memories are plagued with him and his family and now everything has come crashing down faster than you can handle. You had a feeling deep down that you needed to get over him years ago so who are you to sit here and feel sorry for yourself. You knew better than to think he could ever love you back. You knew blind faith would come back to bite you in the ass.

It was stupid to wait so long with all these bottled up feelings towards him, you feel like you’ve wasted so much of your time helplessly hoping in silence and now who were you meant to seek advice from. You can’t tell your best friend he’s just broken your heart because you’ve been madly in love with him since you were seventeen. You can’t tell Ronnie because, although you’re incredibly grateful for it, she would come to your immediate defense and the last thing you wanted was a big fallout at their welcome home party. You’ve never been in more internal conflict than now.

You allowed yourself to shed a couple more tears before touching up your makeup and chugging down some more of the cheap Riesling. They would come looking for you any second now.

You collected yourself taking one last glance in the mirror before exuding a shaky breath as your hand reached to turn the knob. Stepping outside your met with Josh leaned up against the wall. Was he waiting for you to get out?

“There you are..” he whispered, swiftly grasping your arm and dragging you right back into the bathroom.

“J-josh what the fuck? What are you doi-“ you were cut off by him shushing you and locking the door.

“Listen, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think he would actually make it official with her. I thought she was some fling of his. If I had known I would’ve warned you.”

“So you know about our conversation?” You softly ask, trying to tame the lump growing in your throat.

“Yea, she’s here and Jake said you ran off after he told you he wanted to introduce you to her”

“Oh my god, I probably embarrassed myself. I wasn’t thinking Josh, I was just afraid I’d lose it in front of him” You say bringing your hands up to rub your temples. Josh reaches to grab your wrists, holding your arms in front of you.

“Hey, hey.. stop stressing yourself out. Everything happens for a reason, okay? You didn’t embarrass yourself, no one suspects a thing. I just wanted to make sure you were alright, it's pretty big news for you” he says, thumb rubbing gently on your forearms. The waterworks were conjuring up again, a small tear slipped as you met his eyes.

“I waited too long Josh…” you whispered.

“You were right. I shouldn’t have done this to myself. I-I mean, am I crazy for wishing someone could love me the way I love them?” You questioned rhetorically, your teary eyes staring into Josh’s pity-filled ones. You hated how he was staring at you. You didn’t need pity, you knew the mess you got yourself into.

"Not crazy at all, sunshine.” Hearing Jake's nickname for you coming out of Josh’s mouth felt wrong. Especially right now.

“Come on. let's take a deep breath and greet the guest, shall we?” He offers. You inhale a sharp breath before nodding your head in compliance, it was gonna happen one way or another, might as well man up for now and wallow in the privacy of your own home.

————————————————————————————

You both make your way into the living room seeing everyone gathered around the couch. A few people seemed to have gone home, there were a lot less people than when you showed up. Sam, Dan, and Ronnie sat on one couch.

Your eyes peered over to Jake in the kitchen talking to a beautiful blonde. She was wearing black silk blouse and some mom jeans. It was casual but elegant, you envied how effortlessly pretty she was.

“Hey.. stop getting in your head.” Josh whispered in your ear. Claire and Spencer waved for you to come join everyone. You took your seat as Ronnie got up from her spot next to Sam and came over to sit next to you.

“Where were you? You like..disappeared” she giggled. You smiled at her as best you could.

“The wine wasn’t sitting well, I needed a breather” you laugh hoping she believed you.

The only reason you never told any of your friends about your feelings for Jake was because at first you were convinced it would go away, so why embarrass yourself by telling someone something only for it to not be true in a few weeks and potentially jeopardize an entire friendship. Then as the years went on of you gaslighting yourself into thinking it would go away, all of a sudden 10 years had gone by.

“Ugh I feel you, Sam made me the nastiest marg earlier. I thought I was gonna yak” she says clutching her stomach. You laugh along with her, thankful she didn’t pry any further.

You were broken from your conversation as Jake walked in the room, his hand locked in hers as he guided her in.

“Alright everyone, this is Laura. My beautiful girlfriend.” He says leaning in to kiss her cheek. Jake seemed like he’s had one too many, his words slightly slurring but you don’t question any further. She politely smiled and greeted everyone. Jake notices you, his eyes twinkle before shining you a bright smile and gesturing for her to come meet you.

“Y/n, Laura. Laura, y/n.. this lovely lady has been one my best friends since elementary school” he introduces, slurring his words a bit gesturing towards you with an open palm. You smile wide and rise to give her a quick hug, Josh watching you intently. Your hospitality is admirable.

“Oh my gosh! You’re y/n! I've heard so much about you, I love your dress” she compliments.

Fuck. She’s actually really nice, it sounds terrible to say but you were secretly hoping she was bitch so you wouldn’t feel as bad for being so upset. Your moral compass however, refuses to allow you to feel negatively towards anyone undeserving.

“Thank you, you're so kind. It’s a pleasure to meet you” you smile bright as your cheeks flush from the sincerity of the compliment. She excuses herself to the bathroom, as Jake gestures for the two of you to take a seat yet again. The constant sitting and standing was starting to wear you out.

“Soooo what’d you think?” He says

“Short interaction, but she seems like a great girl Jakey. As long as you're happy I’m happy.” You give a tight-lipped smile, toying with a loose string on your dress.

“That’s it? That’s all you're gonna say?” he asks, stumbling over his words. There’s a certain tone he brought on that you didn’t like.

“W-well I don’t know what you want me to say… a-are you drunk right now?” You say, now adopting a confused expression.

“You could at least act a little more enthused for me. I mean do you even care at all? I was excited for the two of you to meet” he says, scooting back in his spot. He seemed offended, where was all this coming from?

“I-I’m sorry? I don’t know why you’re getting so upset with me. What do you want me to do Jake?” You say lowering your tone so the others around you do catch wind of whatever disagreement this seemed to be.

“You know what…just forget it, you could at least act like you care.” He spat, harshly grabbing his drink and abruptly leaving from his spot beside you. You sat there in shock.

What the fuck.

Your face suddenly felt hot, your throat tightened aggressively. You needed to get out of this house. You did care, too much. That’s why you felt your entire body go numb as tears clouded your vision. Why was he being so mean? Today has been the worst day ever. You swiftly get up from the couch and collect your things. You think you’ll make it with a successful Irish goodbye but of course with your luck, Josh catches you just before you slip out the front door.

‘Hey, where are you going” he asks.

“I can’t josh, I need to leave. I’m so sorry I just- I don’t know what came over him or how much he drank in the amount of time between our conversation and now but suddenly I’m the bad guy?? I don’t even know what I did wrong, apparently I don’t care enough? When you and I both know that’s far from the truth. I just wanna go home josh…please. I think I really fucked it this time and I need to process everything a little bit, okay? I really don’t mean to ruin your welcome home party, truly. I’m so glad to see you guys and maybe you and I could grab lunch this weekend to make up for me leaving so soon and bringing this drama.” You ramble, furiously wiping the tears streaming down your face. Josh doesn’t say anything, he just frowns and pulls you into a much needed hug.

“Alright mama, don’t worry about it.. you haven’t ruined anything. He probably had too much to drink. As far as I’m concerned I’m the only one who knows about this little fallout. Text me when you’re home, okay? Are you sure you’re okay to drive?” He questions.

“I’m okay, I was only kinda tipsy and that whole thing really sobered me up.” You let out a pathetic laugh at how humorous this all was. He rubs your arm before allowing you to make your way out.

You felt guilty for leaving so early, you didn’t mean to make it about you and you would’ve stuck it out but given Jake's newfound attitude towards you, you didn’t feel very welcomed anymore. Maybe you could’ve been more enthused but this was also heavy news for you. You start feeling regretful as you realized you had been a bit insensitive. You would have shown more joy for your best friend but how were you meant to give any more than that?? I mean she left for the bathroom in the middle of the greeting for fucks sake.

You sighed feeling at a loss. Granted, your feelings weren’t his responsibility but how exactly was he expecting you to react? You weren’t necessarily jumping with joy at the idea. But then again, he had no idea about your feelings. In his eyes, his best friend wasn’t matching his energy on something he deemed important. You start wracking your brain on everything you could’ve done to avoid this, essentially kicking yourself while your already down.

You make it to your car, hoping to just go home, have a night of reflection in a warm bath. As you sit down your phone vibrates in your hand.

Message from: Sam Wam Bam🕺🏻

-some friend you are..

Sam?? What the fuck? Why is he saying that?

Message from: Jake ❤️

-don’t even bother reaching out anymore.

wow.

He must’ve said something to Sam. Now sam probably thinks you were being a shit friend and ditched him and his brother at their own welcome back party after sharing the news with everyone.

You dropped your head to rest on your steering wheel as you realized you seemed inconsiderate to the people who didn’t know about your repressed feelings for the man. You felt like you ruined everything. You knew better than to get your hopes up, why did you think today would be any different and he would spontaneously have feelings for you? Foolish.

You let out a sob at their messages knowing this whole situation has been misunderstood. Because of it, everything was crumbling down around you.

So…thoughts? How we feelin’?

335 notes · View notes

janeyseymour · 2 months

Text

Landslide

Summary: Melissa's doing a lot of self-reflection while she ponders about what the future might hold for the two of you.

Feel free to listen to my cover of the song too!

WC: 1.95k

Melissa Schemmenti has been through a lot- there’s no two ways about that statement. She’s had plenty of rough seasons, and they’ve shaped who she is today. And then you came crashing into her life the day that you quite literally tripped and fell walking into her during the first day of development at Abbott your first year. Your mere existence threw her into an existential crisis, and that was before the two of you started dating. And now? She’s contemplating asking you to marry her (how you managed to get her to rethink her entire outlook on life, love, and marriage without your realizing it is beyond her). With this revelation of hers that she might want to get married again, she’s doing a lot of reflection of the course of her life.

I took my love, I took it down. I climbed a mountain and I turned around. And I saw my reflection in the snow covered hills, til the landslide brought me down.

She used to wear her heart on her sleeve. That’s actually how she fell in love with Joe. It was a typical school girl crush in the eighties when she met him in an entry level writing course during college that everybody was required to take in order to graduate. They fell in what she thought was love and got married far quicker than she had ever expected herself to do. She had climbed that mountain, and she almost made it to the top. But then, their marriage had turned into the situation that she had promised herself she would never be in. She turned around, and as she began her trek down, she saw her reflection in what was now a snow covered hill. She saw the way that this experience changed her, and she knew that she would never be the same again- not after what Joe had done. And then the landslide brought her down, and she had fallen from what felt like the highest peak, and she found herself in one of the lowest valleys.

Oh, mirror in the sky: what is love? Can the child within my heart rise above? Can I sail through the changing ocean tides? Can I handle the seasons of my life?

Building herself back up to be as much of the Melissa Schemmenti that she knew and missed was a process, and the redhead knew that it was always going to a little different than it once was.

Melissa found herself looking up at the sky quite often, feeling a sense of serenity when the sun in the sky shone on her face or when the droplets of water that fell from the clouds trailed down her face and she couldn’t quite tell what was rain and what was tears. It was freeing and made her feel as though everything might just be okay.

The redheaded woman was looking up at the sky on a rather cloudy and dismal day as she wandered through the city aimlessly when she finally decided to ask herself what love really is.

Melissa came to the realization that day that she had no idea what love was. Her mother and father certainly didn’t have the love story everyone yearned for- no, they ended up divorced by the time the redhead was ten. She remembers hearing their fights, the cursing and tears, while she lay in bed trying to fall asleep. A part of her had died in those years, and she truly wondered in that moment if the inner child within her heart could ever rise above and find love- true, real, and natural love that wasn’t forced or expected of her.

The woman walked through the city without a destination, wondering if she could handle the changing ocean tide of being in a marriage to being single again. Could she handle the different seasons of her life that were yet to come? She supposed she made it this far, so she can’t give up now- if anything to spite whatever God was trying to make her life a living hell.

Well I’ve been afraid of changing, cause I built my life around you. But time makes you bolder, even children get older. And I’m getting older too.

That night, Melissa went back to the small apartment in the middle of Center City Philadelphia that she couldn’t quite yet call a home. She stood out on her balcony, eyes focused down on the streets below her. Somewhere, Joe was roaming those streets looking for his next booty call. And in that moment, she realizes that she needs to change her ways- it’s been two months that she’s been moping around since the divorce was filed.

But she was terrified of change. She had built this whole life around Joe and his friends and family, and she lost it all in an instance when she caught him in their bed with another woman.

With time, Melissa’s heart healed and mended itself- the only true remedy for heartache and heartbreak. And in that time, she grew to love where she worked at Abbott Elementary. She grew bigger and bolder, back into the woman that didn’t put up with shit and marched to the beat of her own drum.

Years passed, and the redhead found herself watching her first class graduate from Abbott. Only then did she realize that even children grow and get older- onto their new chapter, and then in a few short years she would find herself at their high school graduations cheering and clapping for them among their families.

But Melissa Schemmenti was like family to some of those kids- like a second mother, or even a first mother in certain cases. And she would continue to be there for them.

Only after she enters the door to her townhouse that at least somewhat feels like a home to her now does the second grade teacher realize that she too is getting older.

And then you came around. You started working at Abbott when Melissa was finally settled into her own being and she was happy with where she was in life. And you came and shook that all up in your flowery sundresses and bright smile. You turned her world upside down with your infectious positivity and sunny disposition. The redhead who wore mostly muted colors with her pleather pants and leather jacket started to wear brighter colors again, because you unintentionally made her see the world like she was living in technicolor.

And after a few months of you working there, the two of you began to see each other romantically. You brought out parts of the hardheaded second grade teacher that she thought she would never see again, yet she was still Melissa. She was still the woman who knew a guy and wasn’t afraid to back down from a bare knuckle fist fight or to bring out her bat to destroy someone’s car who wronged her. You found yourself loving that. You also found yourself loving the way that Melissa would turn soft for you in an instant if you needed it. You knew she was the woman of your dreams, and the redhead felt that too oddly enough.

And so, here she is in her classroom as she waits for you to finish up a meeting with Malik’s parents and doing some self-reflection again as she wonders if maybe you are the miracle that she’s been waiting for her entire life- if you are the one true, real, natural love that she’s been looking for. If you’re the one that she’s going to throw caution to the wind for and get married to.

Well I’ve been afraid of changing, cause I built my life around you. But time makes you bolder, even children get older. And I’m getting older too.

She’s been afraid of change her entire life. Melissa Schemmenti thrives off of routine and the things that she knows to be true in the world. But you came and shook everything up, and she’s built her new life around you now. Is she willing to change everything if a second marriage of hers goes south again?

But… time has made her bolder. Time has shown the redhead that no matter what happens, she’s resilient- she’ll make it through. And genuinely, she isn’t so sure that she would hate the change of being married again, as long as it was to you.

Time passes around her slowly as she looks around her classroom and realizes just how much has truly changed since she started teaching you and even just in the past few years that you’ve been in her life.

The kids that she started out with are onto the real world, they’ve grown up. They’re off creating their lives, creating families and raising beautiful children that are now wandering through the halls of Abbott themselves.

The practice of teaching has changed and evolved as Melissa’s been here, and while she’s always been afraid of change, the redhead realizes that she’s always been changing and growing to fit the standards of the time in order to give her students the best education she can.

And you? You’ve brought a new sense of life and passion into her world… she’s getting older, she’s aware of this. Maybe you’re worth the potential landslide that could take her out again. She doubts you will- you’re nothing like her ex-husband in the slightest. And that gives her hope. The lingering fears though stay with her, because much like you’ve shaped her, so have her past experiences.

Oh, take my love, take it down. Oh, climb a mountain and you turn around. And if you see my reflection in the snow covered hills, well the landslide brought me down. And if you see my reflection in the snow covered hills, well the landslide bring it down.

Melissa’s worn her heart on her sleeve when it comes to you. And so far, she hasn’t had to take it down. You’ve both climbed the mountain, but neither of you have turned around. She saw her reflection as she climbed up, and she’ll be quite frank: she still glances down at the snow-covered hills occasionally when a moment of self-doubt and self-worth takes over. But she doesn’t think that the landslide will ever bring the two of you down.

And so, she opens her phone and pulls up the number of one of her guys.

“Jack? I think I need a ring,” she says into the phone lowly, praying to God you aren’t coming around the corner.

“For?”

“I think I found the future Mrs. Schemmenti,” Melissa reveals with a soft smile on her face. “I’m done letting the landslide bring me down.”

“Meet me tomorrow after work, and I’ll have a few things picked out for you.”

She hangs up the phone with a smile.

You walk into her classroom a few moments later, bags slung over your shoulder.

“Hey, babe,” you sigh. “You ready to go home? I’m beat, and I need some relaxation and Desperate Housewives.”

Melissa chuckles softly as she stands from her desk chair and grabs her own bag. She stretches to peck your cheek before taking your left hand in her own. Subconsciously, she rubs her thumb on your ring finger as she thinks about the meeting that she has tomorrow with her guy.

Melissa Schemmenti has always been afraid of change… always wanted to heal that inner child of hers that used to look up into the night sky and wonder what love was. And here she was, changing for you and knowing what love truly felt like.

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson

#melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary #abbott elementary fanfiction #singing #guitar #landslide cover

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davenporttf · 9 months

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MLB Secrets: Alex

I'm going to let you in on two secrets I've been holding close my entire life: I'm gay, and I have a superpower. One of those is not that big of a deal except in a sports environment, and the other makes me sounds like I'm crazy. I don't know how to describe it, but I noticed growing up I was able to manipulate others to be a different version of themselves. All it took was wishing for it to happen in my mind and it would become their reality.

Now, I'm the first baseman for the local AAA team, the Blue Pirates. I've never used my superpower to get ahead in sports. That would be crossing a line. But I have been feeling pretty sexually repressed these days, and I think I'm overdue for some fun.

Today was a long day for the team. We lost the game in a landslide, and everyone was feeling like crap. The whole team left the locker room except for my buddy, Dylan, and I. Dylan is our center outfielder and we hang occasionally. I haven't told anyone on my team that I'm gay, and consequently I don't date really for fear of being seen. Today I could use a mood booster though.

Dylan was talking to me about his recent fishing trip when I started to wish for him to be a horny power bottom. He stopped talking suddenly as if his brain was recalculating. When he snapped out of it, he looked at me with a hunger in his eyes.

"You thinking what I'm thinking big boy?" I said with a smirk.

"I'm thinking you need to pitch me your best game, sexy" he said as he turned around and brushed his ass against my throbbing 8 inch cock. I wrapped my bat against his chest and pushed him into me as I brought my lips to his.

Fuck, he tasted so good. His stubble brushed against mine and I could feel him move his ass up and down around my cock. I could spend all day teasing him but the thought of being caught was becoming too much.

"Let's take this back to my place." I suggested. His face was telling me he wanted me to fuck him here and now, but he quickly threw on his shirt and grabbed his bag. "I'll drive sexy" he said smiling.

We made our way to his truck and I jumped in to the passenger side. It was a 10 minute drive to my place from the fields but I couldn't wait to get the party started. I looked at him and wished for him to be flooded with overactive balls and a large cock. He squirmed in pleasure as his balls dropped and his legs spread out to allow them room. I then ducked down to unbutton his baseball pants and let his now 9 inch cock out. It was go time! I took his giant cock into my mouth as he tried to maintain control of the road.

I sucked and twirled my head around his head and tasted the salty precum from his dick. His balls were working overtime and he had a constant flow of pre coming out. I bobbed up and down and sucked with the energy of a DL gay in need of a dick. Dylan moaned as he felt himself getting close. I went for the finisher and took his whole cock into my throat. "OH FUCKKKK" he screamed as his jizz erupted into my throat. I felt his cock pulsate as shot after shot of what had to be the biggest load I've ever taken shot into my mouth. I brought my head up as Dylan regained control of the truck smiling at me. "Fuck, bro. We need to get to your house quick."

We pulled into my driveway and rushed inside. Dylan walked into my room and plopped onto my bed. "Let's see what you got"

He smelled rank from the game and I took no time to dive into worshiping his body. I pressed his socks against my face and licked his feet from heel to toes. I could taste all the hours of sweat from the game we just played. I gripped the bottom of his stirrup socks with my teeth, and snapped them back against his sole. The snap made him wiggle in pleasure and anticipation. "Stop teasing me, big boy!"

I crawled forward to start kissing his inner thighs. I looked at him and met his eyes. "You have an extremely sensitive hole and cheeks." I thought, and watched as he squirmed side to side.

"Fuck, dude. I need you inside me!" Dylan said breathlessly. I unbuckled and brought his pants down to his ankles. Flipping him over, I pulled him up on all fours.

"Anything for the team" I said as I pushed my throbbing cock into his hungry hole. Dylan bursted out in a loud moan, "Oooooh Fuckk!" He was precumming in his jock as I thrusted into him. My thighs clapping against his sensitive ass was heaven for me but ecstasy for Dylan. His hole gripped on my cock bringing me to the edge. I grabbed his hips and did one last deep thrust into him. I exploded into his ass, breeding him like the bottom bitch his life had become. He could resume his normal life tomorrow, but tonight he was my boytoy.

#gay tf #mental change #straight to gay #gay jock #socks #jock #sock worship

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blushweddinggowns · 9 months

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Steve was trying his damndest to not cry again, but Eddie was making that damn near impossible. Not when he insisted on slow dancing to their damn wedding song in the middle of their living room- the masochist.

It was sickeningly romantic, and Steve wouldn’t have it any other way.

They were married. They were actually married. He had always been a sucker for shit like this. Always fantasizing about the day he would fall in love and live happily ever after.

He just never expected it to actually become his reality.

Maybe the marriage wasn’t “real” but Steve didn’t give a fuck. It was real in all the ways that mattered, and Steve was more than ready to be the first one to concede that a ceremony had been a great fucking idea. He was so grateful to have such weird control freaks in his life, especially the girls. It was without a doubt going down as one of the best days of his life, amazing enough for Steve to never want it to end.

He was so fucking happy, he didn’t even know what to do with himself. So he just clung onto Eddie tighter, burying his face into Eddie’s shoulder as he let the happy tears fall.

“Y’know,” Eddie murmured into his hair, “I did write vows. And if you weren't so stupidly gorgeous I would have been able to say them.”

Steve laughed, muffled against the fabric of his shirt, “Oh yeah?”

“Mmhm,” Eddie hummed, leaning down to press a light kiss to Steve’s temple, “Made them perfect and everything.”

How was he supposed to resist that? Steve pulled back to smile at him, head cocked, “Well let’s hear them then.”

Eddie straightened a little, trying and failing to put on a serious face. It didn’t really work with the dopey smile, but he got points for trying, “Steve Harring- No, sorry it’s Steve Munson now isn’t it?”

Steve grinned, “Damn right it is.”

Eddie laughed, leaning in to kiss his nose before continuing, “I vow to always love you the way you deserve to be loved. I’ll never let you doubt it. Because you’re perfect. Maybe not as a human being, but as my soulmate? There’s no one better. I’ll always be there for you, in any way that looks like. If that’s listening to Queen or ABBA albums on loop, then so be it. No price is too high when it comes to you.”

“I’ll be holding you to that,” Steve softly laughed, “Just so you know.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,”Eddie said, squeezing him a little tighter. He brought a hand to Steve’s face, tilting his chin up to look him straight in the eye, “And most of all, I promise that as long as I breathe, you’ll never feel alone again.”

Steve could feel the tears building up, a pleasant heavy feeling in his chest. And then Eddie was kissing him again, hard and deep enough for Steve to almost forget about his own vows.

“Wait, wait!” Steve wetly laughed, barely managing to hold Eddie back with a hand to the chest, “It’s my turn now.”

But Eddie wasn’t waiting. He was too busy hefting Steve up into his arms, bridal style, all while smiling like an idiot, “We can talk and walk.”

And just like that, he was kissing him again. Walking blindly to their bedroom. Steve laughed into it, especially when Eddie kept knocking shit over as he went, “You’re so dumb. I love how dumb you are.”

Eddie gently tossed Steve onto the bed, crawling over him with a grin. He was already unbuttoning his shirt, jokingly chastising him, “Princess, if these are your vows then I think I win at the romance here. By a landslide.”

Steve rolled his eyes before wrapping his legs around Eddie's waist. He batted his hands away, squeezing him with his thighs just hard enough to get some leverage to flip them over. He grabbed Eddie’s hands in his, pinning them down right above his head. He smirked over him, completely eating up the lovestruck look on Eddie’s face.

His lips were parted, the smallest sliver of pink tongue peeking out as he blinked up at Steve with wide eyes,“It’s so hot when you do that.”

“Stop being horny and listen!” Steve laughed, “I vow to give you inside of me. It’s all yours, for as long as you want it.”

Eddie adjusted their hands, moving to lace their fingers together while still letting Steve hold him down, “Forever then.”

“That’s right,” Steve agreed, giving his hands a little squeeze, “I will never love anyone like I love you. No one else compares. You are everything to me. I love the way you take care of me, I love the way you let me take care of you. I love it when you’re loud, when you’re so happy you don’t know how to shut up. I love it when you’re so nervous or excited you can’t sit still, and I’m the only one who can calm you down. There isn’t a thing about you that I don’t adore.”

Now Steve really had his attention. Eddie stared up at him, his eyes getting wetter by the second, but Steve wasn’t done yet, “I never thought that I would find someone who could make me feel like this. I didn’t even know people could feel like this, but here we are. And sometimes it’s scary, how much I love you. How I’d do anything for you. But there’s no one else I’d trust to have that power over me. No one else could even come close. And I am so fucking happy that I met you, and so, so ready to spend the rest of my life with you. I love you Eddie, forever and always.”

Eddie blinked a few tears down his face, surging up fast enough to make Steve squeak. He smashed their mouths together, his arms shaking as he wrapped them around Steve’s back.

“You win,” Eddie mumbled against his mouth, the tears still falling, “Best vows ever, hands down.”

Eddie didn’t give him a chance to answer, too busy trying to shove his tongue down Steve’s throat. But he didn’t mind, he just smiled into it. He was right anyway.

Steve really had won, hadn’t he?

From the last chapter of this fic

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #the perfect loving nightmare #shes done #basically #this is sfw #the fic is not #wedding fluff bs #i have a pattern #it would seem

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f1bordeaux · 9 months

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Landslide | cs55

"Even children get older, And I'm getting older too" Life moves on, pretty quickly at that. Your last night with Carlos is one that you'll both remember forever. Even years later when he fulfills his biggest wishes. Warnings: Suggestive content, heated make out sesh lol, sadness, happy/unhappy ending? Mostly unhappy Pairings: Carlos Sainz x Reader(y/n) Word Count: 4.2k Poetry style | Story style A/n: I LOVEEEEEE Landslide by fleetwood mac and the way this song hits you when you're about to move out-UGGHHHHHH I wrote the first half of this then went out, got drunk as fuck, woke up and wrote the rest of it with a hangover, so forgive me if there are any errors. Anyways, enjoy this internal dread i'm feeling turned into a FanFic. Growing up is so weird, isn't it?

I took my love, I took it down I climbed a mountain and I turned around And I saw my reflection in the snow-covered hills 'Til the landslide brought me down

2012.

“¡Sainz joder!” He turned around to look, a smile splitting his lips. Antonio had a frying pan in his hand as the two of you ran through his kitchen. Carlos’ hand squeezed yours with so much force that you wondered if it would bruise. It didn’t hurt, though. In that moment, nothing mattered but that damn smile that Carlos carried. “¡Anda, anda!”

Finally, you reached the back door of the kitchen. Carlos used his whole body to push it open, hoping that nobody would be on the other side. Luckily, the alleyway was empty, save for an employee sitting on a bucket smoking a cigarette. Carlos kept running and you had no choice but to keep up-your hands were still intertwined after all.

Antonio ran out the door, stopping as he watched you two make your grand get away. “Bastard! I ought to tell your father! And your father too, young lady!”

It was the same threat he used every time you and Carlos cut through his kitchen. I’m going to tell your fathers that you two are devious children! He’d say. He never did, though. Antonio was a friend to both yours and Carlos’ parents. He could if he wanted to, but he didn’t. For over ten years, you and Carlos would walk into his restaurant-situated on a busy Madrid street-and slowly sneak your way into the kitchen. Sometimes, when he wasn’t there, the waiters and cooks would just let you freely pass. But, more often than not, he was there and it suddenly became an obstacle course of running past cooks, dodging frying pans and slipping between shelves. It was worth it, however. A small, secret alleyway that was blocked off by a fence from the main road laid on the other side of the restaurant.

On the left-the building that Antonio’s restaurant was in-was a fire escape. It spanned up ten stories to an abandoned rooftop bar. Over the years, Carlos would bring small objects up there. Pillows, blankets, a small folding table, a few boxes to keep the stuff safe. He had the place designed to his liking-like it was his house or something. He’d put string lights up there too, giving the space a dreamy, photogenic atmosphere. So many nights were spent underneath the abandoned bar. You’d slept there a handful of times. You’d gotten drunk for the first time there, too. That space was yours and his. It was Carlos and y/n’s spot; everyone knew it.

So, as you and Carlos climbed the fire escape, it was hard to believe this was the last time the two of you would be spending the night up there together. It made you nauseous to think about.

“Try not to look so down.” Carlos chuckled as the two of you kept climbing the stairs. He could read you like a book, obviously he saw how upset you were. “Let's enjoy tonight.”

“Easier said than done, Carlos.” He stopped suddenly, your chest running into his backpack. His hands grabbed your shoulders and he-shook you? “Carlos stop it!”

“Sorry I was just trying to get the idea that I’m leaving you out of your brain.” He said, dropping his hands.

“But you are.” You said, evoking a sigh from him. Before he could apologize-which you knew he was about to do-you shook your head. “Listen, I’m so excited for you, Carlos, but-I don’t know. Life is going to be so different without you in it.”

“I’ll still be in it, mi novia. It’s not like I’m dying.”

“But Carlos, you’d always come home to Madrid after a race. You’d always be back to see me. We would work on school work together. I’d come to your races sometimes.” You sighed, looking at the metal ground beneath you. “But I’ll be in college and you’ll be in the British Formula 3 now. That's a massive step up. And when you do come back to Madrid, I won't be here.”

He didn’t speak, not for a while. The two of you just stood there, in the Spanish heat, looking at the ground. Life would never be the same. He couldn’t say anything to deny that. Tomorrow night, he would be catching a flight to London, and at the same time, you would be catching a flight to the United States. You’d both leave behind Madrid and only ever return as guests to your hometown. Maybe your rooftop hideaway would go untouched. Maybe some new children would find it and claim it as their own. They’d find the boxes that said, Carlito&Muneca, in sharpie and wonder what those names meant. Maybe they’d sort through your things, maybe they’d turn on the string lights and gasp at how beautiful the place looked.

Being eighteen was weird. You didn’t like it too much.

“Let's go, y/n.” Carlos grabbed your hand once again, pulling you up the fire escape. Three more flights awaited you. The sunset had just begun, but the primary color in the sky was still blue. You could still hear car horns from nearby streets. The air was still warm. The two of you were still young. At least for tonight you were.

Once you reached the top Carlos stepped aside, allowing you to take in the scene.

Oh, mirror in the sky What is love?

The spot on the stage where Carlos and you normally sang and danced to his iPod Nano was now completely redecorated. There was a plush blanket, pillows, a pizza box, and those damn string lights you loved were hanging from the roof. A small card was on one of the pillows. It was, of course, addressed to you in Carlos’ fanciest writing.

Anyone would think that this was a romantic gesture. But you two were best friends. Since birth, really. Not a day went by without conversation between the two of you. Carlos was your soulmate. Of course you had crushes on him here and there-he was hot, funny, caring, charming; you could go on and on. But you never acted on it. Keeping him around was better than losing him.

“Carlos,” You cupped your mouth with your hands. It was beautiful. “When did you-Is that pizza from Antonio’s?”

Carlos laughed, amused that the first thing you pointed out was the food. “Yeah,” He said. “He’s pretty sad that he won't see us around town anymore, either.”

Your heart sank. Right. That's why this was all set up-as a final goodbye. In the few moments of excitement and shock that filled your body upon seeing all this, you had forgotten that tonight was it. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Vamos, let's eat.”

That you did. Carlos and you sat at the bar and ate, watching as the sun sank lower and lower over the city skyline. Somewhere along the way, he pulled some liquor out of his backpack. You two drank and talked, reminiscing over everything the last eighteen years had brought. That one time you spent the night at his house and started a small fire in the kitchen-from then on sleepovers were at your house. That one time you two took a day trip to the beach and Carlos’ foot brushed a stingray's back. That one time you were at one of his races and a driver started hitting on you, so Carlos punched him in the jaw and got suspended for three races. That one time a wild hare was in your guest bathroom and your parents weren’t home so you called him over to help and you trapped it in your mother’s favorite cooking pot. That one time he lost a bet and went streaking through his neighborhood in the middle of winter.

The two of you were hunched over in laughter, your abdomens cramping from how hard you were laughing. Carlos wiped a tear away from his eye. “And remember Mrs. Nunez? She saw me that night and sprayed me with her garden hose!”

You sniffled. “Like why was she awake at five am? And why was she gardening?”

“Literally! I was fucking freezing. The scream that came from my mouth after that-”

You both mocked his scream at the same time, laughing even harder as you remembered the old lady’s shocked face from that night. Slowly, you both started calming down, giggling as you remembered the streaking ordeal. Carlos took a sip from his beer. You drank from your rum and Coke. It was darker now, still not pitch black, but darker. You looked up into the sky, watching as clouds rolled by.

“What am I going to do without you?” Carlos asked. You looked back down. He was staring right at you, bringing the beer bottle back up to his plush lips. “Can’t you just quit college and travel with me?”

You scoffed. “And be what? Your trophy bestfriend?”

“Trophy wife?”

You swore that your heart stopped beating. Wife? As in marriage? Obviously he wasn’t being serious, right? Carlos was a playboy. He’d had plenty of girlfriends in his lifetime. From your past observations, you weren’t his type at all. He preferred dolled up girls, ones with fake blonde hair and exquisite makeup. He preferred high heels and short, skin tight dresses. He preferred long nails and longer lashes. Synthetic beauty. You were far from that. When you put on makeup, it was simple. You dolled yourself up, yes, but everything about you was natural. From your hair color to your nail length. You were a natural beauty-something Carlos had never indulged in.

“Very funny,” You smiled as you took another drink.

“What?”

You blinked very slowly at him. “Us getting married? Sure.”

He shrugged. “Why not? You don’t love me?”

“Of course I love you, Carlito.” You tried using his nickname to deescalate the situation. “But you would never marry me.”

“Bold assumption.”

Was he drunk? Or, was he shooting his shot because tonight was it? This was quite possibly his last chance, was he taking it? Was he working you up so you’d miss him more? God, this was confusing. “Carlos-”

Before you could even say another word, he was leaning forward to kiss you. His lips were warm on yours, a side effect of the alcohol you were sure. His lips were so soft, so large, so perfect. They pulled yours in with such ease, such delicacy-almost like you were fine China. His free hand came to your jaw, thumb resting on your cheek.

He pulled away first, much to your surprise. There was about half a beer left in his bottle. He downed it before speaking again. “I’m sorry, y/n. I don’t know why I thought that was ok.”

Your teeth pulled your bottom lip in. You’d just kissed Carlos, something you only ever dreamed about.

Can the child within my heart rise above? Can I sail through the changin' ocean tides?

You reached out, both palms resting on his cheeks this time, pulling him in for another kiss. Fuck it, you thought. This was a new dynamic between the two of you, but it was one that younger you would be ecstatic about.

This time, there was more hunger behind the kiss. Carlos understood this was something you wanted, and you now understood this was something he wanted. His tongue slipped between your lips, finding a home in your mouth. His hands wrapped around your neck, not applying any pressure, just applying warmth. You felt so warm, so satisfied. This was finally happening. Why couldn’t it have happened two years ago?

Carlos pulled away again, gasping for air while resting his forehead on yours. “Come here, hermosa.”

You got off your barstool and sat on his lap, your chest flush to his. The two of you resumed your makeout session, his hands roaming your back, your hands draped around his neck. You moaned into the kiss once his large fingers snuck beneath the fabric of your shirt and touched your hot skin. It was electrifying, it was new, it was so good.

You could feel the bulge in his lap pressed against your thigh. His kisses turned sloppy, his hands moved quicker, his breath grew shorter. It was obvious he was growing impatient with you sitting right there. He was hungry for you. He only wanted you.

His lips attacked your collarbone, leaving little bitemarks and wet spots across your skin. You ran your hands across his broad shoulders, leaning your head back as he created a constellation across your chest. The night air was cold, the sky was now completely dark. The string lights were off, but the glow from the city provided enough light for you to see Carlos at work. He looked so good, so handsome, so perfect.

He chuckled into your skin, the vibrations causing you to shiver. He involuntarily thrusted his hips up, grunting as he did so. You hung your head on his shoulder as he composed himself. “Wrap your legs around me when I stand up, ok?”

You could only nod, feeling gravity shift as he rose to his feet. You did as you were instructed, his arm coming to your lower back for support. Your chest was pressed so deep into his that you wondered if two humans could possibly get closer than this. You really wished your shirts were off so you could feel his skin on yours.

Softly, Carlos laid you down on the makeshift bed. It was more comfortable than you imagined it would be, but maybe your mind was too clouded with lust to be rational. You were focused on Carlos and only Carlos.

A gasp pushed past your lips, not because of anything Carlos did, but because of a loud and sudden explosion. The sky lights up in colors of reds and yellows, blues and purples, greens and oranges. Sparks quite literally fly as fireworks rip through the once still air. Carlos is beside you now, watching the sky with such intensity you wonder if he has ever seen a firework before.

“It’s Saint James Day.” He says to himself.

You’re pulling the covers up to your chest as you catch the small, toothy smile that he holds. He pulls his knees up and rests his elbows on them. You’re amazed at how quickly his attention changed from you to the fireworks.

“You had no idea?” You ask. “I knew there would be fireworks but I didn’t know they’d be close enough for us to see.”

Carlos shook his head. “I didn’t know, no.” He looked back over to you, that smile still on his lips. “What a way to spend our last night in Spain.”

Your heart stops beating. It’s like he was hellbent on reminding you that this was it.

Slowly, he reached for your jaw once again, bringing you in for a kiss. It was soft, it was gentle. It was reminiscent of the first kiss the two of you shared only a few minutes ago. Never, you thought, do I want this to end. It did, however. Everything has a beginning and an end. The circle begins when you place your pen on the page and it stops when you’ve finished drawing it. The story begins at birth and appears like it ends on a rooftop in Madrid-semi naked with fireworks in the background.

The fireworks carry on for a few more minutes. They seem to illustrate photos in the sky. Carlos sees it, too. He pulls out his phone to snap a quick photo before turning it to you. This goes unnoticed, you’re too preoccupied in watching the show before you. He snaps a candid photo of your side profile. It was one he would cherish for the rest of his life, even if it was low quality and dark.

When the sky falls dark once more, the sound of cars below once again filling your ears, Carlos turns his whole body to you. “I love you, y/n.”

Can I handle the seasons of my life? Well, I've been afraid of changin' 'Cause I've built my life around you But time makes you bolder Even children get older

And this time, it feels different. It feels like there is a non-platonic meaning to the sentence he says everyday. Carlos has been telling you he loved you since the two of you could speak. Everytime you two say goodbye his last words are, “I love you.” Every time he’s overjoyed with you he says, “I love you.” Every gift you’ve ever given him has been opened as he says, “I love you.” Every time you run into his garage after a good or bad race he greets you with, “I love you.” You begin to wonder if you’ve missed some signs along the way-if you were too immersed in the thought that, he would never date you, to realize he’s been fighting for you all along.

He answers your question when he speaks again. “All I've ever wanted in life was you. I knew that at the end of the day, I’d be alright as long as you were there, y/n. After a bad race, you were standing there waiting for me and I realized that it isn’t the end of the world. After a bad breakup, you were there to tell me that I’m not a douchebag and I’m actually a good person. After people told me I could never make it big in racing, you stood proud as my number one fan and forced me to carry on with my head held high.”

Your throat begins to burn. This was goodbye. This was Carlos’ confession.

“I have loved you for such a long time, y/n. It’s always been you. I have always wanted you.” No. “I have never clicked so well with someone. I have never thought someone was so beautiful as you. You don’t even have to try, either! You’re just so,”

He trails off, looking straight ahead at the city. His eyes glisten. You wonder if he’s about to cry. You know you’re one more word away from crying.

“I don’t know how I'm supposed to be ok after a bad day without you there to hold me.”

That does it. You hold a hand over your mouth as tears pour down your cheeks. They’re hot, but they aren't the same warmth that Carlos radiates. They’re painfully hot, his touch was pleasantly hot. You’ll have to learn to live with one and not the other, however.

“Carlos,” You choke out. He doesn’t turn to look at you, just staring straight ahead as tears of his own trickle down his cheeks. “Oh, Carlos.”

“This sucks.” He says.

“This sucks.” You repeat.

It sucks. Saying goodbye sucks. Leaving your hometown that you love so dearly sucks. Leaving your best friend sucks. What will become of the two of you? Will Carlos still love you? Will he return to Madrid and visit with your parents? Will he be saddened to see your empty room? Will he turn to look at every girl who resembles you and hope that somehow, someway, you found him? Will you do that to every man who looks like Carlos?

He leans back, laying flat on the bed. You rest your head on his chest, his fingers coming to play with your hair. “I believe with every bone in my body that you will do amazing things, Carlos. You’ll be a world champion one day. And guess what? You’re going to do it because you are strong. It’s not going to be because I’m holding your hand, it’s going to be because of your dedication, your talent, your strength, your skill. You’ve worked for this, Carlos. And you are going to do it.”

He sniffles, placing a kiss to the top of your head. “I love you, Carlos.” You say. And maybe things will be ok, maybe they won't. But you know that Carlos will go on to do great things. You know that he's the type of boy-no-he's the type of man to accomplish whatever he puts his mind to. He’ll fight for his life in that damn race car and then step out of it and make the whole room laugh and smile. He’ll make amazing friends, ones that will occupy the space you have always resided in. He’ll be happy and feel whole. He’ll think of you from time to time. Maybe you’ll visit one another when you both are in Madrid at the same time.

“I love you, y/n.”

And I'm getting older too

2026

You haven't run this fast since high school. Somewhere in the crowd, you’ve lost your husband, but you don't care. You have a mission to accomplish, a friend to see.

“Carlos!” You shout, waving your hands like a maniac. “¡Mi hijo! Carlos!”

A hand grabs you by the bicep. “You can’t be in here!” The strange man shouts. Did you run past some barriers? Yes. Did you push some young fans? Yes. Is security worried about your intentions? Yes. But there, only a few feet away, if the new World Champion.

“Let me go! I know Carlos!” You fight the man causing another to join in on the situation. Both of your arms are restrained and they’re practically carrying you out.

“Everyone says that.” One of them says.

“Please!” You beg. It’s been over three years since Carlos and you have seen each other in person. Life dragged you two apart. You thrived in college, becoming the girl that everyone loved. You made friends quickly and made memories even quicker. Carlos thrived in racing, too. He moved his way up pretty quickly, his Formula One debut coming just three years after he left. You’d seen the Youtube videos of him and his friends, you’d heard the inside jokes, read about Carlando-you knew he was happy. But, you two weren’t as close anymore. You’d text frequently, reaching out before a big race or after a difficult one. You’d facetime, too. You both had one another on social media, and sometimes he would comment on your post or respond to a story you had up. Life was different now, however. You and him were married. He couldn’t come to your wedding, it fell on a race weekend. You couldn’t go to his. You said you had work but watching him marry another girl would stir up some pain, even if you were in a happy relationship. You didn’t frequent Madrid all too much, choosing to vacation elsewhere when the time arises. But, vacations were rare now that you were a mother. This was the first time you’d been out of town since giving birth three years ago. It was worth it.

“Carlos!” You cried out once more. He knew you were at the race-he was the one that bought you the tickets-but you wanted to see him now, not later.

The commotion caught his attention. He stared for a second, trying to understand why two men were carrying out a girl, but then he saw who it was. “Y/n!”

He dropped the conversation he was having to run over to you. The hands of strange men were replaced by those of a familiar friend. You felt warm again. You felt whole.

He swept you up in a hug, spinning you around as you squealed. “You did it! You fucking did it Carlos!”

“I know! You were right muñeca! You were right!” The nickname alone was enough to make you cry. You hadn’t been called that in years. Since the two of you were in your teens.

He dropped you, hands sliding onto your cheeks. For a brief moment, you thought he would try to kiss you. He didn’t. But your mind wandered.

“I’m so happy you’re here.” He smiled softly. “None of this would have happened without you.”

“Me?”

Carlos nodded. “I carried your words with me every day. Nobody has ever believed in me as much as you have.”

“Carlos-”

“I love you, y/n.”

The tears were back, and they fell hard. “I love you, Carlos.”

He was pulled away to go do his podium celebration. The Championship had come down to the last race of the season. Carlos beat out his competitors, however, winning not only the race, but the World Championship. And as he stood on that podium, champagne spraying through the air, fireworks began to pop in the sky. It lights up in colors of reds and yellows, blues and purples, greens and oranges.

He looks down at you, a smile splitting his lips.

It seems like the highest award to achieve, but he hopes that in another life, one hopefully close by, that he can get the one thing he desires most.

You.

Maybe in another life, you followed him. Maybe in another life you two got married. Maybe in another life you reached out more. But in this life, Carlos is a World Champion. You wouldn’t trade his excitement, his pride and his joy for anything.

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 fanfic #f1 requests #f1 imagine #carlos sainz #charles leclerc #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz ff #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz f1 #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz smut #f1 smut #f1 angst #carlos sainz angst #max verstappen #pierre gasly

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runnning-outof-time · 1 year

Text

Don’t Turn Into Them | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by anonymous

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader

Summary: Tensions escalate when (Y/N)'s worry of Tommy becoming something he's not gets miscommunicated and blown out of proportions.

Warnings: language, smoking, mentions of drinking

Word Count: 3644

A/N: bit of a disclaimer, I’m not the best at writing arguments…I also wanted to pick a fight about something that isn’t one of the normal topics. With that being said, I hope this makes sense. Enjoy! :)

A/N 2: I’m adding this in late because I completely forgot to give a big thank you to @thesoldiersminute for making this gif for the story. Idk what I’d do without your amazing talents.

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!

———

Everyone was in high spirits as the poll master read out the votes. Tommy won the open seat in Parliament by a landslide, as was expected. (Y/N) slipped out of the main polling area just before pandemonium erupted. She knew that her six month old daughter, Ruby, wouldn't react well to the excitement, so she wanted to get as far away from it as possible.

She stood on the landing of the steps with Ruby in her arms and waited for her husband and his family to emerge after all of the well-wishes and procedural things were finished. She couldn't help but breathe out a sigh of relief as she got away from the crowd.

There was such an uneasy feeling surrounding the other men in the room; the men that Tommy would now be working with given that they were politicians as well. They all wore smiles and chatted as if they'd been friends for the majority of each other's lives, but (Y/N) knew that it was fake; that they were only doing that so that they could advance their own agenda when it came down to it. The fact that Tommy was one of them now worried her...she didn't want to see him turn into one of them.

These worrisome thoughts were pushed aside when the two men standing guard opened the doors and Tommy became visible. His eyes locked onto (Y/N) and Ruby immediately, and he couldn't stop the smile that formed on his face as he accepted his gun back from one of the men. His family filed out behind him as he tucked the firearm back into its spot in the holster under his coat. Tommy didn't stop for the people shouting about taking photographs, and instead he kept his eyes locked onto his wife as he walked down the steps.

"I didn't see you in there at the end, love," he whispered as he stopped in front of her.

"Had to get out...Ruby would have freaked," she answered, smiling at him. Tommy noticed that it didn't quite reach her eyes. Something seemed to be bothering her.

"Lemme see her," he said, his eyes focused on Ruby as he reached out for her; his smile widening. "Come 'ere, Ruby girl," he spoke to the child, who happily reached out for her father and let him take her into his arms. He lifted her in the air, smiling widely as she cooed with excitement, her smile matching his. (Y/N) smiled as she watched Tommy interact with their daughter.

"Mumma," Charlie, their four year old son, called out, making her look from Tommy and Ruby to the boy.

"Come here, Charlie," she called him over, reaching her hand out for him. Upon seeing this, he happily let go of Polly's hand to make his way over to the rest of his family.

Cameras were going off like crazy now, and (Y/N) tried her best not to bother with them. Tommy didn't seem to care as he brought Ruby down to rest on his hip. She felt like she needed to be more like him at the moment. But she couldn't seem to shake the incessant pestering coming from the people behind the flashes. "Didn't get my kiss yet," Tommy's whispered words brought her out of her thoughts, making her look over at him again. His smile made her smile as she leaned in and kissed his lips quickly.

"Mr. Shelby! Mr. Shelby, look over here!" one of the photographers called out after Tommy and (Y/N) pulled back to look at each other again.

He gave her a look, as if to ask her if she was ok with it, and she nodded before turning slightly to face the people calling for them. She placed her one hand on Charlie's shoulder and her other on Ruby’s back as she smiled for the picture with Tommy by her side.

The family then came to join in on the picture, filling in around Tommy, (Y/N) and their children. After several flashes, Arthur stepped forward and began waving his arms. "Alright, alright! You've got enough photos to go around now!" he called out as he continued with his attempts of clearing the photographers away from the steps. Everyone followed him once the path was cleared, and made their way out to the waiting cars that would take them to the ball that was being held in Tommy's honor.

——

"Mr. Shelby, congratulations," Frances said with a smile as she opened the door to greet the family that she worked for.

"Thank you, Frances," Tommy smiled at the older woman as he allowed her to help him out of his coat. He'd had a long day and was ready to unwind with some whiskey in his office.

"Frances, would you take the children up to bed?" (Y/N) asked as Frances helped her out of her coat while Ruby stayed sleeping in her arms.

"I can, Mrs. Shelby," France nodded after putting their coats in the front closet. She then accepted Ruby from (Y/N)'s arms and placed her comfortably on her hip.

"Goodnight, Charles," (Y/N) smiled down at her sleepy son, ruffling his hair as he smiled back up at her.

"Come on, Charlie," France said softly, her hand falling to his shoulder as she ushered him to the steps so that they could go up to his room.

(Y/N) watched her children until they disappeared down the hallway before she turned to look at Tommy. It surprised her slightly that he was still there. "I'm going to the reading room," she told him, a dismissive tone in her voice.

Tommy furrowed his brows at his wife, confused by the sudden shift in the tone she was using. She seemed so upbeat the entire night, but now she was acting like she wanted to get as far away from him as possible. He couldn't let her get away without saying something about it.

"Something wrong?" he decided to stay simple with the question, an inquisitive tone present in his voice.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" (Y/N) spun around to face him, a glare on her face.

Her response made him even more confused, "yes, I would...that's why I'm asking," he pointed out.

She huffed at his answer. What he thought was a straight-forward response, she perceived as sarcastic. "You've not noticed at all this entire night?" she asked him, her eyebrows raised.

"Noticed what?" he still had not a clue what she was getting at.

"See that's the problem!" she exclaimed, her eyes wide as she threw her arms up, "you let it go; you don't notice things until they're about to blow up in your face!"

Tommy dropped his gaze to the floor, running a hand over his face before he looked up again. "Would you please just tell me what the fuck you're trying to get at here, (Y/N)?!" he explicitly asked for her to explain herself, his voice raising to meet hers now.

"It's right in front of your face...it's practically screaming at you!" she raised her voice even more, showing him that she was still in control. "I can't believe that you're too blind to see what's going on," she then bit on her lip, her emotions starting to mix in with the adrenaline she was feeling. She was always an angry crier...tears were expected to fall no matter how hard she tried to keep them back.

"What's going on?" he held his confused stance, and that seemed to infuriate (Y/N) even more.

"Just stop, Tommy!" she exclaimed, feeling like she wanted to pull her hair out. She felt like he was backing her towards the edge of a cliff, and she had no choice but to fight back or else she'd fall off.

"Stop what?"

"That! This act! You're questioning…everything you're doing right now, just stop it!" the only thing keeping (Y/N) from full-blown screaming at this point was the fact that the kids were upstairs.

"You know, if you're looking for a fight..."

"I'm not looking for a fight," she was quick to cut him off, leveling her voice once more.

"Then what the hell is this?" Tommy's eyes were wide and serious.

"I don't like what you're doing, Tommy!" (Y/N) blurted just about the second after he finished speaking. It was one of those utterances where she closed her eyes as she said the words as loud as she could; hoping that her doing so would make him forget what he was going to say in response.

Tommy paused after her admission, which meant that her plan was working. He blinked a few times, staring at her with his mouth slightly agape. "What?" he finally asked, his voice low now, noticing the stark drop in intensity after she said what she needed to.

"I don't like that you've been elected to serve in Parliament. I don't like that you've accepted that seat. I don't like that you're going to be rubbing elbows with those back-stabbing bastards..." she paused, her eyes locked onto his. She was ready to continue her monologue after a deep breath, "I don't like how you're going to learn how to play their game, where you say one thing to someone at one point and then turn your back and go completely against them the next. I don't like that you're going to be one of them," her volume had escalated slightly as she finished her statement, her emotions so obviously running high.

"I...I don't understand what you're trying to get at here," Tommy still had a hard time seeing the reasons behind her worry-driven, angry outbursts.

"Of course you don't," (Y/N) sighed, dropping her gaze to the floor as she shook her head.

"Well then fucking explain it to me so that I can understand it!" Tommy raised his voice once more. The fact that she was so quickly putting him off while speaking in veiled statements irritated him, and he was to the point where he couldn't continue anymore.

"These men are the worst of their kind...don't you see that?!" (Y/N) answered him like it was the most obvious thing in the world...well to her it was. "They're the worst of their kind and somehow they managed to sneak their way into these positions of power where they get to say how the people who have nothing should live. They get to play God and give ultimatums and use these helpless people like they're fucking chess pawns in their grand scheme," she kept her eyes locked with Tommy's as she spoke, hoping he'd recognize how terribly she felt about his choice.

"That's why I've taken this position," instead of recognizing, he insisted that there was a reason behind him doing this.

"To join them?!" (Y/N) asked incredulously.

"No, not to fucking join them," Tommy shut down her statement, "I aim to tear them down from the fucking inside. People like Mosley, and fucking Riggs...it's easy to get them to think that I'd stand with their bullshit, but I'm not going to," he then explained what his reason behind this move was.

(Y/N) wasn't pleased with his answer. She couldn't help but snort when she heard it. She shuddered at the mention of Stephan Riggs’ name…he was one of the fakest men in politics, and (Y/N) couldn’t bear to watch him act like he cared only to do what solely benefited him when it came down to it. "You say that now, but then you'll be singing like a fucking canary for them on the floor," she finally said, her words coming out with a tone of disgust laced into them.

"You think that I'd be their pawn?" Tommy raised his eyebrows.

"Yes I do," (Y/N) doubled-down on her statement.

"And why is that?" Tommy asked, incredulousness present in his voice. He waited a moment for her response, but continued when he got none. "Eh? Why do you all of a sudden not have any trust or faith in what I'm doing?" There was another pause with no response. It felt like his blood was starting to boil now. "Fucking tell me, (Y/N)!" he exclaimed, finally letting the pent up emotion out.

"Because you'll be good at playing their game!" she was now ready with a response the second he stopped talking, "you'll be good at the game, and who's to say that you won't start buying into and believing the shit that they're trying to shove down the throats of the unsuspecting people who will then have no choice but to follow along with it. These bastards are evil, Tommy. They'll hurt innocent people and I won't have you joining in on it." she ended when her voice wavered, finally showing that she was holding back all of these overwhelming emotions. She hated it, and she tried to keep a steely gaze on Tommy as she waited for his response.

"These bastards are gonna do it anyway," he insisted, his voice dire as he kept his eyes locked on hers, "I'm putting myself in there to try and stop it."

"All feats start out with good intentions," she reminded him.

"You must not know who the fuck I am then," he disagreed with her.

"I guess I don't..." she trailed off.

Tommy didn't know what to say in response to her statement. He blinked a few times and pursed his lips together, hoping that these extra few silent seconds would reward him with the right words. But they didn't. He pressed against his temples with his thumb and middle fingers before he shook his head and exhaled a sigh. "I'll be in my office," he told her then, a dismissive tone now in his voice. He then walked past her to the steps and began walking up them.

"What about your family, Tommy?!" (Y/N) called after him, unhappy that he was walking away instead of continuing to talk to her; to sort this out. She still felt like she was fuming. She couldn't believe that he didn't consider what his family would have thought about this. "What about Ruby and Charlie? What about me?" she continued when she didn't get a response from him, desperation present in her voice.

Tommy kept walking up the stairs, and her anger was rising with each step he took. She added more onto her statement after a few more silent moments passed, "you always say that you think of us when you make decisions such as this, but I can't seem to recognize where we fall into it this time."

This statement got Tommy to stop. He was at the top of the stairs at this point. He looked down at (Y/N), who now looked absolutely wrecked by everything that had been said between them, before glancing down at the floor. "Nothing good's going to come of this if we continue," he told her then, his dismissive tone still present.

"Then go," (Y/N) told him, biting back her tears that were now threatening to fall, "go to your fucking office and drink your fucking whiskey and forget about what I even said," she told him, her words dripping with venom.

Tommy looked at her one last time before he turned and began walking down the hall to his office. (Y/N) let out a shudder of a sigh, finally letting her tears fall before she turned and walked into the front room. She decided that she would sit in there for some time before going up to her room for the night.

——

It wasn't until much later in the evening that Tommy finally entered the master bedroom. (Y/N) was still awake, sitting up on her side of the bed while reading a book. She glanced over at him as the door shut before focusing back on her book. Tommy didn't say anything either, instead focusing on getting himself undressed and ready for bed.

(Y/N) tried to continue reading her book until she couldn't anymore, finding herself more focused on her husband's night time routine than the words on the page. He remained oblivious to her watching until he happened to catch her eyes in the vanity's mirror while he was placing his pocket watch down.

Instead of joining her in bed, he sat down on the vanity's bench and picked a cigarette out of his tin. (Y/N) placed her book next to her before she slowly swung her legs over the side of the bed, sitting up completely. She watched Tommy for a few moments as he quietly smoked before finally standing up and making her way over to him.

She sat down on the empty space of the bench and hesitantly wrapped her arms around his shoulders from behind so that she was able to lean against his back. Neither said anything as they sat there. (Y/N) was content with feeling his warmth and breathing in his scent.

Then Tommy spoke up: "I'll turn down the seat in Parliament if it's what you want," he told her. There was a hint of a conceding tone in his voice that she picked up on. She also didn't miss the fact that it sounded like he was saying this reluctantly.

His surrender caught her off guard, and it made her sit up straight again as she came to grips with it. "Why such a sudden change?" she asked him, having an inkling of the reason behind it...she wanted to hear it from him though.

"You've voiced your concern about me doing it," he answered her, discarding his cigarette in the ashtray on the vanity before he turned to face her, "I can't be doing something that my wife doesn't like."

(Y/N) had to stifle her giggle as she heard the second part of his statement. "This wouldn't be the first time you've done something I don't like, Tommy Shelby," she reminded him, smiling slightly as she spoke.

Tommy couldn't help but chuckle slightly at her words. "I know...I'm guilty of that," he admitted his defeat, "but this time seemed different. You've never been that quick to express your distaste in the past," he pointed out.

"I didn't think you'd listen," she said then, trying to keep her happiness pushed down. Right now she was feeling like a child who was told they could stay up past their bedtime.

"Figured it's time I'd changed that," he told her, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he looked her in the eyes.

(Y/N) couldn't stop the smile that formed on her face as he said those words. She reached out and grabbed his face, her hands resting against his cheeks as she pulled him closer to her. "Thank you, Tommy," she breathed, her forehead resting against his briefly before she leaned in and kissed his lips.

"You're welcome, love," he answered her in a similar tone before he kissed her again.

(Y/N) wrapped her arms around his neck when they pulled away, and she leaned herself against his chest so that she could tuck her face into the crook of his neck. Tommy accepted the embrace and fastened his hands to her waist so that he could hold her tight against his body.

They sat silently in that position for some time, both comfortable against each other after talking through their previous argument. It was like a weight had been lifted off of their shoulders.

(Y/N) was the one to break the silence this time as she finally pulled away from Tommy's chest. She looked at him for a few moments, searching his eyes before she said what was on her mind: "I think you should keep the job, Tommy," she told him, her words making him furrow his eyebrows.

"Keep the job?" he asked her, like he was checking to see if he heard correctly.

"Yes," she nodded.

"I thought you didn't want me working with those men," he pointed out, harking back to the major point she'd made in their previous argument.

"I don't," she started off, making her stance on that point starkly clear. Tommy furrowed his eyebrows again, but let her continue, "I don't want you working with those men, but at the same time, I recognize the amount of good that you could do for the people of Birmingham if you keep that position. The people of that city need someone like you representing them...you’re one of them. You’re not one of those inconsiderate politicians who’ll run over anyone they could in order to make a gain. All I ask is that you don’t turn into them when you take this position.”

“I won’t,” Tommy’s answer to her ask was quick and spoken definitively, “you have my word, love.”

(Y/N) smiled as she heard his promise. “Good,” she said, taking hold of his cheeks so that she could kiss him again, her smile still present as her lips pressed against his. “We’ve had a long day…let’s go to bed,” she said once they pulled away.

A grin formed on Tommy’s face as his eyes matched hers. (Y/N) got butterflies in her stomach just from the look he was giving her. She knew what would leave his lips next. “I’ll go to bed with you, but I have no intentions of sleeping just yet,” he told her as he stood from the bench. He grabbed hold of her waist, making her shriek as she stood up with him. He then began peppering kisses across her skin, making her giggle as he led her over to their bed.

———

Tagged: @mgcllovdrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @peaky-cillian @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @december16-1991 @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @lovemissyhoneybee @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @raincoffeeandfandoms @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08

MASTERLIST

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic

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pureanonofficial · 2 months

Text

I took my love and I took it down I climbed a mountain and I turned around and I saw my reflection in the snow-covered hills 'til the landslide brought me down

#Chess #Chess the musical #Florence Vassy #Freddie Trumper #Frederick Trumper #chessedit #chessthemusicaledit #Jodi Benson #Kim Strauss #florencevassyedit #fredericktrumperedit #freddietrumperedit #pureanonedits #theateredit #musicaledit #The Problems #Fleetwood Mac and Chess continue to be a match made in heaven.#anyway Jodi Benson Florence is achingly lovely and amazing.#And she makes Someone Else's Story HIT like nobody else.

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redahlia-writes · 1 year

Text

you make loving fun. | frankie morales x ofc

two. landslide

content (for this chapter): (kinda) religious imagery, food as love language, mentions of food, mentions of drugs and drug usage, mentions of death, a little angst from both of them, self-doubt, hurt/comfort, fluff, one bad (and explicit) joke everybody say thank you elvira, mentions of illness

word count: 7.4k

a/n: i'm so unbelievably happy about the response ch1 got, thank you all so so much

reblogs and feedback are always greatly appreciated. you can send it here, too

series masterlist | masterlist

“I was lost when you found me. I know it might sound like a cliché, like something every couple tells each other. My life had no meaning before you, I didn’t know who I was before I met you, you made me into a better person, I started to live again with you–all that stuff that sounds overused, and pointless. But in this case it’s–I had a life before you, and it was a mess, I was hanging on by a thread just for Alba. But then you came along, quite literally sweeping me off my feet and it’s true, we didn’t do things the proper way, if there even is such a thing–knock it off, Miller, I’m not giving you the satisfaction either. But Mila, amor, my life only got better from the moment you came along, and I’ll never, ever stop being grateful–for you, for the fact you put up with me, and saw in me not the person I used to be, but who I could become. I’ve never been religious, but I do believe you’ve been my salvation.”

Frankie’s head was pounding, Alba’s tears now drying on his neck and shirt, her warm forehead pressed against the bent of his shoulder and her breath calming at last after hours of crying and screaming and trying to scratch her ear.

The house was a mess, multiple attempts at making the child eat scattered on every flat surface, covers she’d drooled over abandoned on the couch and on the chairs he’d tried to sit for a few minutes before she started screaming again, forcing him to resume his walking around rocking her against his chest.

With the throbbing in his temples, he almost didn’t hear the soft knocking at his door–so soft he for a moment thought he’d imagined it and had to wait out until he heard it again, still soft, but definitely somebody’s knocking. He wondered whether it was Alba’s doctor, coming back to tell him what an awful job he’d been doing all day with her, or his mother with one of her home-made remedies he wasn’t sure would be good for the kid or not.

“Mila?” she stood with her back almost to the door, as if ready to go down the steps, turning her head only when he called her name quietly. Her cheeks were red, hair half-piled up on top of her head, and a scarf covered the lower half of her chin. “God–I thought I called you, I must’ve forgotten to call you, I’m sorry, Alba–”

“I know, you did call me,” her eyes flickered to the sleeping child, expression softening. “Let’s get her out of the air, it’s alright.”

Frankie moved almost on auto-pilot at her words, backing inside the house until she’d slipped inside, too, and closed the door behind her, toeing off her shoes the same way she had that first night they’d stumbled inside his house.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated tiredly, his hand coming up to cover the back of Alba’s head when she shifted in his arms. “She just now calmed down, it’s been a long day and I can’t–I don’t think–”

“Frankie, it’s alright, I’m not here for our date,” she smiled gently at him, reassuringly, then lifted what he’d thought was her bag between them–it was a mesh bag, anonymous wrapped up items inside he had a hard time focusing on. “I brought dinner for you–figured you wouldn’t have thought of feeding yourself through the day, so,” she shrugged, glancing away almost shyly.

And she was right–he couldn’t even remember when he’d last taken a sip of water, let alone ate anything. Did coffee count? Had he had any coffee?

“I also got the blueberry muffins Alba likes–I think, hope. For when she feels better,” she added, her gaze drifting towards the asleep child.

“You didn’t have to,” he wanted to get closer, rest his forehead against hers and close his eyes for the first time since the previous night, when Alba had woken him up with her wailing.

“I know,” she nodded, and reached over with her free hand, her cool fingertips brushing his chin–there, then gone, bringing a single moment of clarity to his mind. “I’ll heat up your dinner, then get out of your way, alright?”

Words felt stuck in his throat, a gratitude he wasn’t able to express as she caressed his cheek again, one more reassuring smile that softened her eyes before she walked towards the kitchen–he followed shortly. It was a mess in there, too, and he almost apologized.

Camila proceeded on unbothered, resting the bag on the counter and shrugging off her jacket and scarf before beginning to fix everything–placing the dirty dishes in the sink, putting aside the various attempts of food he’d tried to feed Alba unsuccessfully.

“Can I–” he took a step in her direction and froze, unsure of what to do with Alba still in his arms, and also that he could be of any help with the drowsiness in his head. “Do you need anything?”

“Just go sit down now that she’s asleep,” she hadn’t turned on the light yet, which made Frankie wonder how she moved so effortlessly through the room. In the month they’d kept seeing each other, she’d been back at his house just one more time, to recover her jacket from that first night–it had turned into having a quick dinner with him, ruefully saying goodbye at the door. “I’ll manage, don’t worry.”

For the first time that day, Frankie wasn’t worrying. Still, there was a nagging feeling in his throat–an apology, a justification, worry in the shape of non-formed words–that melted away only when Camila stopped moving and lifted her gaze to him, brown eyes so soft he felt his breath stutter, his shoulders sag. It wasn’t the first time she had that effect on him, he noticed, a way of putting him at ease just with a look.

They’d gone out often after that first night, but always for a short time that left him unsatisfied, yet warm all over. Tranquil. They’d take a walk with Alba in her stroller and the moment she locked her arm with his, he felt like the day got better, brightened up. He’d drop by her workplace for lunch after his shift was over, a little before he had to go get Alba from daycare, and Camila would kiss his cheek as a greeting and goodbye, leaving him to rub the spot multiple times a day with a foolish grin on his lips.

Each time, she seemed to sense the moments he started to grow uneasy–he could never pinpoint the actual reason, he just knew a tightness constricted his chest and his legs tingled with the sudden desire of running away, mind screaming at him that was not where he was supposed to be, not with her. A hand on the nape of his neck, her head on his shoulder, or her gaze locking with his, and he could breathe again.

“Go,” she repeated, voice still gentle but a little firmer. He couldn’t argue with her then. He wasn’t sure he had the strength to, in any case.

Alba didn’t wake once while Camila was in the kitchen–in his half-asleep state, Frankie could hear her move around, the sounds of the stove and of water running in the sink, chairs moved to be put back into place. He should’ve told her to not bother, that he could do it later.

He didn’t realize his eyes had closed until he felt the shift of air in front of him–he went to tighten his arms around Alba, only to notice the absence of her weight on his chest. He sat up abruptly, stopped only by a hand on his shoulder.

“Frankie, it’s alright,” Camila was whispering, and she turned her head towards Alba’s cradle–she’d started to outgrow it, Frankie knew he’d have to replace it soon. “She rolled around a bit, but she’s fine.”

“I didn’t feel–” he looked down at himself, a blanket draped across his legs, similar to the one tucked around the sleeping child. Her face looked more serene, the red spots on her cheeks dimmed slightly to a blush pink. He exhaled, leaning back against the couch. “I’m sorry.”

“It was just a few minutes,” her hand trailed up from his shoulder to his neck and then his cheek, another reassuring touch that had his breath slow down a little. “I made guiso carrero, and there’s coffee ready in the kitchen.”

He picked up the scent of food and coffee just as she said it, sleepy mind catching on–when he looked around, the house had a semblance of order. He brought his hand over hers still resting on his cheek, turning to brush his lips against the sliver of wrist exposed by her sleeve–the smell of the dish soap lingered on her palm, and he closed his eyes with a frown.

“You didn’t have to clean the house, too,” he muttered, and a breathy laugh left her, reaching up to brush his hair back.

“I just did the dishes, Frankie,” she held his face in her hands for a moment, looking down at him with those soft, gentle eyes that made him feel like he could crumble at any moment. “Less for you to worry about.”

“Thank you,” he breathed out, wrapping his hand around hers–his was cooler compared to hers, and when he looked back up at her, she was smiling softly again. He pulled on her hand gently, tugging her closer as he straightened his back, and brushed a quick kiss to her bent lips as she caressed his face again, up to his ruffled hair.

It was a soft kiss, quick and shallow, a support to his words, a further thanking.

“Here,” she let go of him and, reluctantly, he let her move back towards the coffee table, picking the warm bowl to hand him. “You eat up, I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Wait,” struggling with balancing the bowl on one hand, he reached up again to grab her wrist. He looked at the stew swaying in the bowl, then glanced up at her, his lips slightly parted. “Can you–could you stay? Just a little longer?”

“Of course,” she turned her hand so she could grab his, giving it a quick squeeze before moving to his free side on the couch, sitting down carefully with her legs folded underneath her. Frankie leaned towards her almost unconsciously, until his shoulder was pressed against hers, her warmth spreading all across his side.

Silence engulfed them–familiar and easy, interrupted only by the scraping of Frankie’s spoon across the plate. With each mouthful, he noticed how hungry he’d been the whole day, how much of himself he’d poured in Alba’s sickness.

The child would make a noise, every now and then, a small hiccup that had his head jerk to the side, his whole body tense for a second, two, and then Camila’s elbow dug in his side, rooting him. Alba’s doctor had told him ear infections were common in children her age, that more often than not it was nothing to worry about, it would even heal by itself in a few days.

Still, Frankie felt unnerved. Because Alba was all he had, the one thing he could hope he was doing right, and her ear-piercing cries had made his heart drop in his stomach where it still remained, uneasy.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he admitted in a whisper after several more moments of silence, the empty plate abandoned on the coffee table. “I’ve never had to deal with her like this, I’ve never–it wasn’t easy when she was teething, but it wasn’t like this, and I don’t know–” he exhaled shakily, his eyes fluttering close as Camila’s hand wrapped around his, gently bringing it on her lap, fingers interlocking. “You managed to do more since you arrived here than I’ve done for the whole day.”

“I heated up some stew and cleaned a couple of dishes, Frankie,” bumping her knee into his, she turned her head to look up at his face, chin brushing his shoulder for a moment as she leaned in, then pulled back. “Don’t sell yourself so short, honey. She’ll be fine.”

Honey. Somewhere between their first night together and the third time they’d had lunch together, the nickname had started making its way into her sentences–the first time, Frankie had stopped dead in his tracks and hiccuped a breath, equally confused and endeared. He’d read the question in her eyes right away–was it too much?–and immediately kissed the tender word onto her lips again. He liked to feel her smile within each kiss.

“There’s something else,” though a hint of uncertainty colored her words, she didn’t exactly pose it as a question. And then, “what’s wrong?”

“I think I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop,” he admitted in a whisper, and when he turned to look at her she was frowning, brows pinched closer and her head tilted slightly to the side. “I’m not sure what you’re doing here, with somebody like me.”

“Frankie–” at the beginning of her argument, he was already shaking his head.

“No, you–” he sighed heavily, and she squeezed his hand, interlocking their fingers together. “There are things I’ve done–things you don’t know about me,” he lowered his gaze to their hands, keeping his voice low. “And you should know the truth, but I’m afraid that if I tell you, you’ll leave.”

“Have a little more faith in me,” still with a light frown knitting her brow, she reached up to brush his hair away from her forehead, “would you?”

“I’m not–it’s bad,” unable to help himself, he sought her touch furthermore, leaning towards her, head tilted into her hand.

“Okay,” thumb rubbing against his temple, the other fingers interlocked between the short strands of his hair, she angled her body so she was almost facing him, elbow propped up above the back of the couch in support of both herself and his head. “Try me.”

“Mila–”

“I mean it,” a delicate tug at his hair made him look up towards her again, her eyes attentive and a little expectant. “Because I’m sure whatever it is that you’ve done in the past, whatever it is that’s making you feel as if you’re not deserving of–” she hesitated a moment, glancing at their still joined hands, “of this, or more, and whatever it is you think is so unforgivable, it won’t change my mind about who you are now. Nor will it change how I feel for you. I’m sure of it.”

Would it be better like this, he wondered? Rip the bandage off before she became too essential in his life, when he was still able to let her go. Perhaps. He wasn’t sure. He was tired, and scared, for Alba and for what his confession would mean to them.

He couldn’t look at her. But he owed her that. He owed her the truth. Before it was late for her, too. It was the least he could do–after all her patience, and kindness and–

“Look at me, Frankie,” she called softly, and his eyes stopped wandering. “You don’t have to, if you don’t want to. Your past is your past–it can stay as such.”

“I know,” he lied–knew he was lying.

He knew that, whatever he decided, Camila would be fine with.

Which was why he suddenly felt so at ease, even with his fear–as long as she kept looking at him with that gentleness in her eyes, his only focus.

Which was why he needed to tell her, in spite of his nerves.

So he told her everything, tiredness aiding the words tumbling from his mouth alongside her thumb rubbing his knuckles and the attentiveness of her gaze. He told her about the military days and the boys, their bond. He told her about the afterwards, how hollow he felt, and about the cocaine, about losing his license–she knew he’d been a pilot already, just not the extent of it. He told her about Colombia, about Lorea and his money, choking up on his words a little when talking about Tom’s death.

He told her about Alba’s mother being pregnant when he left–how she hadn’t wanted to be, how she’d done it for his sake, the sake of their already failing relationship, which a part of him still thought was utter bullshit yet he couldn’t help be grateful for, because Alba was the only reason he’d managed to get some of his shit together after Colombia, to get clean, to keep going. And he told her he always felt like he didn’t know what he was doing, which terrified him, because he’d constantly heard about the parental instinct kicking in when needed and he feared it would never happen for him, that he would fail her.

“You do have that instinct,” was the first thing she said, a tentative smile on her face. It baffled him how she still managed to be gentle with him after all he’d said–he’d spoken, and she’d just listened. “That fear–you’re a good dad, Frankie. You’re good.”

“And now there’s you, too,” her lips turned in a half-pout, a flash of worry in his gaze. “Possibly the best fucking thing that has happened to me since Alba’s birth–and I’m terrified of fucking this up, too.”

“You won’t,” she spoke while a bright flush spread across her cheeks. “I’m not that easy to get rid of, Morales,” she added then, leaning towards him, her hand falling from his head to the nape of his neck.

“You’re too good to be with someone like me,” she scoffed at his whisper before pulling him closer, her hand cupped behind his head to guide him forward until she’d kissed him. Harsh, a little hasty, Frankie’s lips tingling as he freed his hands to reach for her waist to bring her closer, too, that single kiss enough to quieten his mind.

Camila pulled back just as his tongue darted out, a soft groan leaving him as he leaned further forward, his back protesting with the movement. He let his arms wrap around her middle, her knees shifting over his lap as he got her closer still.

“Let me be the judge of that,” he looked up, lips parted ready to argue, and she silenced him again, another hurried kiss that left him aching. “Nuh-hu, you’re too tired to have an argument about it now. Just take it.”

He chuckled then–low and hesitant, although amused, and tightened his hold around her as he lowered his head furthermore, until it was resting on her chest and he nodded, the movement barely visible but perceptible as she locked her arms around him, too.

“Thank you,” he said again in a breathy whisper. She hummed, fingertips scratching slowly up and down the nape of his neck, her chin coming down to rest over the top of his head, a twisted lock of limbs huddled in a corner of the couch.

“I was right, by the way,” he could feel the rumble of her words alongside the beating of her heart, eyes fluttering shut as if lulled by them both, and the smell of rosemary that lingered on her skin that he’d started dreaming of. “None of it changed the way I feel about you.”

Frankie had been to Camila’s apartment only twice–once he’d driven her back and had stopped at the door, a lingering kiss through a dance at the threshold, one step in and two out because he needed to go back home but he really, really wished he could stay; the second time, they’d stumbled inside and barely made it to the couch, barely made it out of their clothes, tangled together with soft laughter and softer sighs.

The third time, he stood with a bag in his hand, knocking against the chipped white wood as softly as possible–still, on the other side, he heard her groan and had to stifle a chuckle.

“Coming,” she called out, voice hoarse followed by a sniffle. The lock clicked after a few more moments, and the door opened just a inch to reveal Camila, wrapped up in a thick blanket, large framed glasses sitting on the tip of her reddened nose. She was frowning, leaning against the frame. “Frankie? What are you doing here?”

“I brought you some medicine,” he spoke softly, yet still she flinched, a little groan leaving her already parted lips. “And some of my mom’s ajiaco–pretty sure it was the only thing I would eat when I had a cold.”

“Oh,” her eyes, a little glossed, moved from his face down to the bag in his hand and up again, a tentative smile making its way on her chapped lips. “You shouldn’t have, honey,” murmured tiredly as she leaned a little more against the doorframe, her cheek pressed to the wood and eyes drifting closer.

“I know,” he shuffled forward, lowering his head towards hers. Her eyes shot open at his sudden closeness, stumbling back from him and pulling her blanket over the lower half of her face, shaking her head quickly.

“I’m gonna get you sick, stop,” her voice muffled, she stared up at him still wide eyed, rocking slightly on the spot with her arms tight against her chest. “Thank you. But go away.”

“Oh, baby,” Frankie chuckled, walking past her inside the apartment–he used the same soft voice she’d heard him use with Alba, a sort of cooing that imitated the child’s speech. She whined in complaint, trying and failing to stop him from closing the door behind him. He took advantage of her step back in his direction to lean down and leave a kiss against her forehead, right above the frame of her glasses, making her mumble again. “I’ll be fine.”

“I can’t get you sick–what about Alba?” she kept at it, walking after him as he headed towards the kitchen–she’d made coffee for him there and sat on the counter in an unbuttoned shirt and underwear, his frame slotting between her thighs as they spoke before he had to leave again. “Francisco,” though she tried to sound firm–and it worked more often than not, the mere mention of his name making him fumble to get to her–her voice was low and raspy, that whine clinging to her tone.

“Have you eaten anything?” he asked instead, placing the bag on the small kitchen table and retrieving the pot he’d taken at his mother’s when he’d dropped Alba off. Para que tu novia se sienta mejor, she’d said–to which he’d replied, stuttering a little, no es mi novia, mamá.

“Some toasted bread this morning,” she leaned her weight against the doorframe of the kitchen, taking a slow, deep breath that then had her clear her throat and stifle a cough, eyes falling shut again. “It’s fine. It’s just a cold, I’ll be fine.”

Frankie placed the pot on the stove and then, after removing his jacket, walked back towards her–with her eyes closed, she heard him coming and mumbled another complaint, trying to escape him. He held her with an arm around her shoulders, her hands pressed to his chest as he leaned down again and brushed his lips to her temple–he lingered there long enough she eventually gave up fighting him off, her entire body slumping forward.

“How’s the fever?” her skin was warm under his lips, cheeks flushed when he cupped his free hand over one, thumb gently pushing her glasses up.

“Still there,” she muttered, tipping her head back as if trying to get away from him–he could feel her pushing weakly against his chest, too.

“And how’s your head?” he asked, rubbing his thumb across the apple of her cheek.

“I haven’t had any complaints yet,” she retorted, making him snort softly and shake his head. Her eyes fluttered open, lips turning in a half pout before adding, “Sorry, I’m–”

“You need some sleep,” bringing both hands to her shoulders, he slowly guided her out the kitchen and into the living room.

“I was sleeping!” she protested, hands curling above his chest.

“Were you?” he glanced at her glasses, and the papers scattered on the coffee table by the couch. Camila huffed and pouted again, and Frankie stole a quick kiss to her downturned lips. “Off to bed.”

“If I go to bed, I’ll just spend the whole day asleep doing nothing,” she complained, managing to make a little more resistance as he tried to push her towards the bedroom.

“Good–you’re sick, you shouldn’t be doing anything,” he reached over and took the glasses from her face, taking advantage of her rapid building to gain more ground along the short corridor that led to her bedroom. “You lie down, I’ll eat up your soup–”

“I can do that,” he sighed, stopping them both in their tracks and taking her face in his hands, glasses dangling at the side of her head as he gently tipped her head back.

“I know you can,” eyes dancing across his face, she licked her lips and sniffled again. “But let me do it for you.”

“Frankie–”

“Camila,” he mimicked her pouty tone, lowering his face to hers–she held her breath when he got closer, and he almost chuckled again. Instead, he gave her a soft smile, brushing his thumb across her cheeks. “Why are you so against the idea of me taking care of you?”

“I’m not,” she blurted out–a tad too quickly, her gaze darting away before she cleared her throat. “I just–you don’t have to. I’ll be fine.”

“I know,” he repeated, “but I want to,” her bottom lip jutted out slightly, tired gaze softening. “And it’s not out of some sort of obligation because you’ve been nothing but good to me,” he bowed his head as she turned hers, his kiss landing at the corner of her mouth. “You deserve someone looking after you, too, y’know?” another kiss to the other corner, her head twisting with a soft sigh. “You stubborn woman.”

“First time I’ve been called stubborn like that,” she murmured, his palms gently pressing into her cheeks making her speech a little more slurred, her lips in a perpetual pout.

“Like what?”

“Like it’s not an insult,” her eyes fluttered open again–not sure when she’d closed them, even less sure of how they’d reached her bedroom without her noticing–her glasses had ended up on the drawer right at the entrance of the room. Frankie’s smile was still soft as he leaned in again, and she wrinkled up her nose. “I’m not letting you kiss me, Morales. You’ll get sick.”

“I’m willing to take the risk,” he shrugged lightly, and before she could argue again he pressed his lips to hers, purposefully sloppy, her hands coming out of the blanket as if to stop him–one of his hands slid to the nape of her neck, and the slow touch made her sigh, melting into the kiss. Unlike the rest of her body, her fingertips were cold brushing his neck. “And I like that you’re stubborn,” he murmured, following it with another kiss she submitted to. “Although right now I’d like it more if you got into bed and let me take care of you.”

She tasted as if she’d eaten too many lemon candies, sweet and sour equally, her lips chapped and her breath short when he moved away to pepper the rest of her face in kisses, feeling her hands slide up from his neck to his jaw.

“Okay, fine, fine,” she took a stumbling step back and landed in a seated position at the edge of her unmade bed, her lips turned in a pout again, the tip of her nose even more red as she tightened the blanket around herself, head tilted back as if to look at him, even though her eyelids were drooping already. “But if you get sick, I’m not nursing you back to health.”

“You’re breaking my heart,” he chuckled, slotting himself between her legs to press a kiss to her forehead. Camila’s shoulders sagged, an exhale leaving her as she leaned forward against him, hands shifting up his sides. “Should I go heat up the soup?”

His hand shifted over the top of her head, brushing down the start of her long, messy braid that was tucked underneath the blanket. Camila’s head fell to his chest with a soft hum, her whole body rocking forward and then back and forward again, balanced only by Frankie’s gentle grip.

“Yes, please,” she murmured after a moment of hesitation, face half-buried into the fabric of his shirt. He could feel the warmth of her skin even through the material, and let her linger there a moment longer, one hand on her shoulder and the other still over her head, massaging her scalp gently.

“Go on, scooch,” he said then, guiding her back towards the pillows. Camila curled up on her side with a sigh, curling her hands against her chest and tugging the blanket closer with a tremble. Frankie brought the rest of the covers that were rolled at the foot of the bed over her, waiting until she stopped shivering.

Back in the kitchen, he brushed past the rosemary plant she kept on the windowsill–he’d seen her crush some of it between her fingertips. She would carry the smell of it with her for the rest of the day, smearing it across his brow or mustache when she brushed his face–the one other night she’d spent in his bed, it had lingered in his sheets for days.

Camila had the covers up to her chin when he returned, eyelids trembling when she heard his steps but without opening her eyes, slowly tilting her head towards him.

“Are you spoiling me with food in bed?” she hummed, a tired smile on her lips.

“After all the hassle I went through to get you in there, I am,” he walked around the bed to get to her side, placing the bowl of soup on the nightstand, alongside the water and some medicine. “Surprising, really, since it was so easy to–”

“Don’t try to sweet talk me while I’m sick, Francisco,” she grumbled, shifting a little underneath the covers–when she looked up at him at last, her eyes slightly red rimmed, he was grinning and leaning towards her. “You’re unbelievable.”

“You started it,” he replied, one knee pushing against the bed as he shifted closer–Camila scoffed, then cleared her throat. “Can you sit up?” he asked then, brushing a loose strand of hair back from her forehead. She nodded, her eyes fluttering close for a moment before she pushed herself onto her elbow.

Frankie’s body pillowed her side, her frame slightly askew as she leaned into him with a soft groan, eyes screwed shut. The room was dimly lit, sheer curtains drawn filtering the noon light.

“You’re staring,” she murmured, slightly shaky hands coming out of the blanket to fix it over her shoulders, while he folded the duvet on her lap.

“A little,” he returned, without any other justification. She smiled tiredly, eyelids moving as if she was rolling her still closed eyes. “Food or aspirin?”

“Food,” he moved slowly, so that he could still support part of her weight as he took the bowl and carefully placed it in her hands. He wasn’t sure she’d realized how much she was leaning against him, and truth be told he didn’t want her to move. “Thank you,” murmured so low he wouldn’t have heard it if she wasn’t so close.

So he sat still as she ate, his gaze carefully trained on the light grip of her hand around the spoon–he spoke to her in the meantime, his voice soft as he talked about work, Santiago–who kept asking about her–and Alba, pulling a tired smile out of her every now and then. Camila made it half-way through her plate before her hold started faltering, cold fingers cracking softly and a light hiccup that threatened to make the rest of the food spill onto the covers.

“Alright?” he asked quietly, and she nodded, slow motions as she sank deeper back into the pillows. “Do you need anything else?” she shook her head with a quiet groan, letting him take the plate from her.

“Think I just need to lie down,” her voice remained low, a little nasal. “My head hurts,” she added, bringing one hand as if to shield her eyes.

“Here,” he curled one hand around her jaw, a gentle touch as he brought the aspirin to her mouth. Her lips parted with no hesitation, though wrinkling her nose as soon as the pill brushed her tongue–he brought the glass of water to her lips, too, tipping it back gently to help her drink as he supported her head.

She hummed when he helped her down again, settling more comfortably at her side as he fixed the blankets over her once more, back resting against the headboard–her head sinking in the pillows, she curled forward until her forehead was pressed into his side, one hand shifting up to rest on his thigh, his body working as a shield against the feeble light.

She’d felt on edge all day–the splitting headache slowing the work she was forcing herself to do, cold settling in her bones while she remained on the couch, stomach turning from emptiness because she couldn’t stand to fix herself a proper meal. Frankie’s presence had spread through her limbs like sunlight warming her, a newfound sense of safety that started in her chest and wrapped all around her with his arm around her shoulders.

“Thank you,” she whispered, and though her eyes hurt she still tipped her head back to look up at him–they were glazed over, slightly reddened, and Frankie looked back at her with a softness that made her heart beat a little quicker. “I’m sorry,” she added then, and he tilted her head to the side, confusion in his eyes.

“It’s just a cold, Mila,” he smiled, caressing the side of her neck and the shell of her ear, gently brushing her hair back. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

“It’s just–” she curled her hand over his thigh once, twice, fingers shaking until he rested his other hand over hers. “You didn’t have to be here, or take care of me, I’m–”

“I told you, I know I don’t have to,” he interrupted her with a gentle voice, her hiccuping breaths pulling him a little lower on the bed–her head shifted over his chest, standing closer now. “I wanted to–I like being with you,” he squeezed her hand, offering her another smile. “Snot and all.”

She groaned at that, screwing her eyes shut and bowing her head as if to hide away from him. With a chuckle, he coaxed her to lean back again, shifting with her until he was resting fully at her side, one arm trapped under her and the other, still holding her hand, pulling her delicately until she was pressed against him.

“You have enough going on already,” voice low, she let go of his hand and curled her fingers into his side. “Last thing you need is me being a burden like this.”

“Hey,” he tapped under her chin gently, so that she was angled towards his face. “Look at me for a moment,” she was slow in opening her eyes, the pout returning to her mouth for a split second before she trapped her bottom lip between her teeth, chewing nervously. “You could never be a burden,” she scoffed, looking away, and he pushed his thumb into her lip to free it from her hold, pinching her chin at the same time. “I mean it, baby.”

She exhaled heavily, a shaky breath as she pushed herself forward and buried her face against his chest, arm curling fully around him to keep herself against him. He locked her in an embrace with a sigh, shifting so his chin rested over the top of her head, slowly rubbing her back as she shook into the circle of his arms.

“I’m sorry,” she repeated, voice muffled by the blankets and his shirt. He shushed her gently when she said it again, hand moving to the back of her head and brushing down, freeing her hair and wrapping his finger around the end of her braid. “Frankie–”

“You need some rest, sweetheart,” he chided, soft-voiced. “We can talk about it later, alright? I’m not going anywhere.”

“I am so sorry,” was the first thing Frankie said when he opened the door. “I tried texting you but you must’ve gotten in the car already and–she ambushed me,” he looked over his shoulder and sighed heavily, his head dropping slightly.

“What are you talking about?” Camila frowned, mimicking his low tone.

“Cisco, déjala entrar,” a voice called loudly from behind him, and then he stepped aside–or, rather, was moved to the side. A woman stood by him suddenly, graying hair pulled back from her face and a big smile widening across her lips. “Ay, mírate–tan bonita.”

“Mamá,” Frankie groaned softly, to which the woman responded by backhanding him across the chest before smiling again, opening her arms towards Camila.

“Oh,” she exclaimed, eyes widening a little as her gaze darted between the two Morales. “Lo siento, señora, Frankie no me dijo–”

“Ah, no señora,” she scoffed, and promptly pulled her in a tight hug–Camila huffed at the impact, tentatively wrapping her arms back around her, her eyes turning to Frankie again. His expression looked pained, and she almost laughed. “Llamame Verónica, cariño–pasa, pasa,” she added then, shepherding her inside.

“Mamá, por favor,” Frankie closed the door and watched as the two women walked deeper into the house, his mother’s arm linked with Camila’s. “I’m sorry, I’ll fix it, I–”

“It’s alright, Frankie,” she said, looking over her shoulder with a gentle smile.

“Ah! See, Cisco?” his mother exclaimed, holding her a little tighter. “She has no problem meeting your mother,” she tipped her chin up, then patted Camila’s hand. “Él quiso esconderte,” she added then, lowering her voice in a mock whisper, and Frankie sighed.

“I wasn’t!” he protested, walking with them into the kitchen where Alba sat in her high chair. As soon as she saw them all walk in, she squealed and threw her hands in the air. “Wait, is that why you’re here?”

“Claro,” the older woman shrugged, her eyes following as Camila moved closer to Alba with a wide smile, letting the child grab one of her fingers as she leaned in and kissed the top of her head. Verónica hummed, seemingly pleased, and turned to Frankie with her eyebrows arched high. “¿Cómo sino iba a conocerla?”

“You could’ve asked,” he argued with a loud sigh, shuffling closer to Alba and Camila, her hand still held up by the child.

“I did!” she retorted, scoffing. “Few weeks ago, I gave you the ajiaco and asked when I could meet her, and you just brushed me off,” Camila’s eyebrows lifted slowly, her gaze moving from Frankie to his mother.

“Thank you for the ajiaco,” she said quickly, before Frankie could reply instead. Verónica’s expression softened again, a gentle smile that wrinkled her face. “Estaba delicioso.”

“Thank you, cariño,” she nodded her head, one hand over her chest.

“Mamá, Mila and I–” Frankie started, and got cut off right away.

“Mi-a!” Alba exclaimed, tugging on the woman’s hand. Verónica’s eyes widened, and Frankie’s head whipped around to look at the child as she squealed in delight. “Mi-a, mi-a,” she repeated, bouncing a little in her seat.

“What is it, nena?” Camila asked softly, lowering herself next to the high chair.

“Did she just–” Frankie looked between Alba and his mother, whose lips had parted slightly as she stepped forward. “Alba, sweetie, can you say that again?” he asked, shifting until he was crouching in front of them both. “Were you calling for Mila?”

“Mi-a!” she said once more, wrapping both her hands around Camila’s one. The woman frowned lightly at Frankie’s reaction, her gaze flickering between him, his mother, and back to the child again.

“Once more,” Frankie asked, his face split open by a wide grin. “Come on, sweetie.”

“I’m gonna go, mijo,” Verónica said softly, and he turned his head around.

“Wait, mamá, it’s–” she smiled softly at him, lowering herself to kiss the top of his head.

“Lo sé,” she told him gently, rubbing his shoulder. “Enjoy it–both of you,” she added, winking in Camila’s direction–she looked confused, still, and when the woman chuckled softly it turned into a deeper frown. “It was nice meeting you, Camila.”

“You too,” she said, though her voice sounded uncertain, watching as she walked out of the kitchen with one last pat to Frankie’s shoulders. “I don’t understand–”

“First word,” he breathed out, his eyes wide and shimmering as the smile did not waver from his face. “That was her first word–you were,” he said, turning to look at her.

“What?” Camila felt like the air had left her lungs, warmth spreading across her skin down to where Alba was still holding onto her, and her eyes widened, too. “Coño–sorry. What?” she repeated, words falling rapidly from her lips rapidly.

“I think she heard me say it so many times and it stuck,” he murmured–Alba was looking at them, her eyes attentive and shimmering, tilting her head towards one and then the other, still smiling wide. “Isn’t that right, honey? Will you try again?”

Alba’s only response was a soft babble, waving her hands around and dropping Camila’s. Frankie waited, expectancy bright in her eyes, but when the child just kept blabbering, he sat back on his heels and tilted his head.

“Is that alright?” Camila asked softly, lowering herself at his side.

“Well, she already said it more than once,” he shrugged lightly, his hand shifting blindly to reach for hers across the floor.

“I mean that it was–” she cleared her throat, hooking her fingers around his, “that it was me.”

“Oh, baby,” he said softly, shuffling closer to wrap his arm around her waist–the position was far from comfortable, the hard, cold floor under both their knees unwelcomed, and one hand each still lifted towards Alba’s high chair. “Of course it is, why wouldn’t it be?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged lightly, leaning into his side. “This is still new, and it was her first word, I don’t–” digging his fingers into her side, he pulled in to kiss her cheek, impetuously. “It’s important.”

“Yes,” he nodded, peppering softer kisses down her shoulder. “And I’m glad it’s you.”

“Mi-a!” Alba exclaimed, leaning all the way forward across her chair–they straightened quickly, legs protesting at their kneeling stance as they faced a giggling Alba, both their smiles widening.

“I think she’s gonna abuse her new power,” he murmured, bumping his shoulder with hers. She chuckled, looking between the two of them, and Frankie turned slowly–head first, then his eyes. “My mom liked you, you know?”

“She’s nice,” she hummed, bumping her hip into his. “Did she really drop by because she knew I was coming?”

“Yes,” he sighed, eyes fluttering shut. “I’m sorry–and I wasn’t trying to hide you, I just–”

“I don’t think you could hide anything from her, Frankie,” Camila chuckled, bringing one hand to his shoulder and slowly letting it slide to the nape of his neck.

“No, probably not,” he sighed in defeat, tilting his head back into her hand. “Plus, she’s known about you since the first night.”

“Wait, what?” a little gasp left her with the question, and he laughed softly. “Frankie!”

“It’s not my fault, you were upstairs when she dropped Alba off,” he moved closer again, both his arms coming down to wind around her waist. “You said it yourself–can’t hide anything from her.”

“You know I won’t be able to face her again, right?” still chuckling he inched closer to brush his lips to hers–one kiss, two, one a little deeper than the previous one and so on.

“Too bad,” he mumbled between kisses that widened her smile. “I think you’re stuck with us, now.”

“Mi-a!” Alba added, as if to highlight her dad’s point, and Camila melted into a fit of giggles, the hand resting behind Frankie’s head pulling him in for a deeper kiss.

That same evening, when Frankie looked at his phone after Camila had fallen asleep on the couch–her head on his lap and her arm around Alba, keeping her in place–there was a single message from his mother: No la dejes ir.

86 notes · View notes

oliverreedmasterass · 10 months

Note

Greta Van Fleet having their own Disney Channel show like imagine if they were brought up that way omg

Notes: EVERYONE GIVE ALEX (@jmkho) SO MUCH LOVE FOR THE INCREDIBLE TITLE, I LOVE IT WITH ALL OF MY HEART SHE'S SO UNBELIEVABLY TALENTED!!! AND ADDISON (@starcatcherkiszka) THANK YOU FOR THE PROMPT AND TALKING ME THROUGH THE PLAN FOR THIS FIC!! Much love to you both 🫶

Synopsis: In this pilot episode of a Disney Channel-esque show, the members of Greta Van Fleet all face their own personal challenges: Josh struggles with writer's block, Jake is convinced the studio is haunted, and Danny and Sam are in the midst of an intense prank war

Words: 5k (but it goes by fast since it's a script, trust me)

Warnings: ghosts/spookiness/hauntings, allusions to insanity, chimpanzees, James Hetfield

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

The scene opens in the studio. Josh is pacing back and forth while murmuring to himself, Jake is perched on a stool with an acoustic guitar in his hand staring blankly at a wall, Danny is behind his drum kit attempting to twirl his drumsticks around, and Sam is sitting at his keys cradling an impressive cup of coffee.

JOSH: I can’t believe this.

JAKE: It’ll come to you, don’t worry. It always does.

JOSH: No, it’s just, I don’t know. It feels different this time. Like, my brain isn’t coming up with anything.

DANNY: I think the song you started writing about your rhinestones had potential.

[Flashback to Josh brainstorming the rhinestone song]

JOSH: Twinkling, glittering, glimmering musical colors radiating on my face, my shining face, beaming at youuuuuuu…

[Cut back to the present]

Josh squints at Danny. It’s obvious he knows Danny is lying.

JAKE: We have time before this song has to be done, Josh. No need to force it out.

SAM: [to Jake] Actually I think he would work better under pressure. [to Josh] If we don’t finish this song in the next hour, I’m leaving the band.

JAKE, DANNY: Sam!

Josh drops to the floor and folds himself up in the fetal position with a moan.

JAKE: Great idea, Sam.

Jake sets his guitar down and squats next to Josh so he can place a comforting hand on his shoulder.

JAKE: [to Josh] Why don’t we give you some space to work out the lyrics?

Behind Jake and Josh, Sam takes a drink from his coffee and spits it out with a loud “BLEGH!” Everyone turns to look at him.

DANNY: [cheekily] Burn your tongue?

SAM: This tastes awful, like a salt lamp!

JOSH: How do you know what a salt lamp tastes like?

With a wide grin, Danny removes a handful of empty salt packets from his pocket and holds them up to Sam to see.

DANNY: Gotcha.

SAM: No!

JAKE: Is this a part of your stupid prank war?

SAM: It’s not stupid.

DANNY: I’m beating Sam by a landslide. I only have to prank him three more times and then the crown will be mine. Sam, you have what? Seven more pranks? You’d think with two older brothers and all, you’d be a lot better at this.

SAM: You haven’t seen my best pranks yet.

DANNY: I’m hoping they’re better than drawing a banana on my drum kit. And my car. Actually, why do you keep drawing bananas on my stuff?

SAM: It’s funny.

DANNY: It’s annoying.

Josh groans from the floor.

JAKE: C’mon, Josh. Get up.

Jake helps a limp Josh back to his feet and makes sure that he’s going to stand upright when he releases his grip on his shoulders. Josh looks dazed but stands vertically, which earns him a pat on the head from Jake.

JOSH: I’m gonna get the studio to myself?

JAKE: Yeah, we’ll give you some space to actually hear your own thoughts.

In the background, Danny crawls on his hands and knees to Sam’s feet where he proceeds to tie his shoelaces together. Sam is blissfully ignorant, giving his rank coffee another testing sip, which he spits out again.

JOSH: Okay, yeah, hear my thoughts, good, yeah.

Jake grabs his guitar and leads the way out of the studio, giving Josh a quick wave which Josh returns. Danny follows behind Jake and Sam stands to his feet, still unaware of his shoelaces.

SAM: [whispering to Josh] Hey, give me a call if you need any help.

JOSH: Thanks, I won’t.

SAM: I’ve got some good ideas to motivate you to write something.

JOSH: I don’t trust you.

SAM: I’m only a phone call away.

JOSH: Please leave the room, Sam.

SAM: You’ve got it, brother.

Sam starts to take a step forward and promptly tumbles to the ground with a thump. Danny and Jake pop their heads back into the room and start to laugh and taunt Sam, who is staring down at his feet in awe.

SAM: DANNY! HOW? WHAT? WHEN?

DANNY: [calling from outside the room] It’s too easy! 2 pranks to go!

Sam grumbles, hastily unties his shoes, and then ducks out of the room, hanging his head in embarrassment. The door slams shut, finally engulfing Josh in silence. He closes his eyes and lets in a deep inhale, followed by a long exhale. He opens his eyes and sits on the floor next to a notepad and pen that had obviously been discarded in frustration earlier.

Starcatchers Theme/Opening Titles

[acoustic theme song with a harmonica]

From the fires we emerged anew,

Singing, playing rock and roll,

Reviving a genre just for you.

Across the globe we traveled far

Recruiting an army of peace,

Enchanting crowds with our guitar.

A battle ensued at the Gardens Gate

And we preserved the gift of nature,

Standing up against a culture of hate.

We are the Starcatchers, reaching for the sky,

Discovering words of wisdom to live by.

We deliver a message from the heavens above:

Live your legend through the intelligence of love.

[end theme]

JOSH: [to the camera] It’s one song. Just a single song. What does it matter? People can never understand what I’m saying anyways, I could write literally anything.

Josh immediately stares daggers at his notepad, deep in thought. His face is starting to turn red and his eyes bug out. He stops before his head explodes and throws himself on his back, staring up at the ceiling of the studio.

JOSH: Nothing.

Across the hall and a few doors down, Jake is in an empty studio, walking in circles while strumming his acoustic guitar.

JAKE: [singing] What will we do with a drunken sailor? What will we do with a drunken sailor? What will we do with a drunken sailor ear-lay in tha mornin’! Way hay and up she rises, way hay and up she rises, way hay and up-

Jake is cut off by the sound of something scraping against wood. Jake’s face pales in fear and he whirls around in a quick circle, searching for the source of the sound.

JAKE: I just wanna say, for the record, I can kick really, really hard.

The scraping suddenly stops and Jake lets out a sigh of relief. Then, he catches a glimpse of a water bottle quickly jerking across a table in the corner of the room. It seems as though it moved on its own. In a blind panic, Jake drops his guitar and books it for the studio door. He jiggles and pushes on the handle to no avail. The door appears to be locked.

JAKE: Ruh roh raggy.

Jake is breathing heavily now, well beyond the brink of panic, and starts to kick the door with all of his might. The threat he threw out earlier has some merit: he can kick really, really hard, but the door doesn’t budge. Jake squeezes his eyes shut and smacks his forehead.

JAKE: C'mon, brain. Give me something.

Jake grabs hold of the door knob again. He twists the handle and tries pushing out, but the door is still sealed shut. Jake turns the knob again and pulls the door towards him. The door opens.

JAKE: [staring at the door warily] You’ve got to be kidding me.

Now free from the haunted studio room, Jake runs down the hallway as fast as he can, past Danny, who is sitting in the studio lobby.

JAKE: Ghosts!

Danny watches Jake run past and then, unbothered, looks back down at his phone. Behind him, Sam sneaks along the wall of the lobby like he’s in Mission Impossible, armed with two bananas. He creeps closer to Danny and can’t help but let out a soft laugh, which makes Danny turn around.

DANNY: What’s going on?

Sam quickly retracts both hands behind his back to hide the bananas.

SAM: Nothing…

DANNY: What have you got behind your back?

SAM: Oh, you know, stuff. Taxes. I have taxes.

Before Sam can react, Danny springs to his feet, barrels towards Sam, grabs his arms, and tugs them out in front of him so Danny can see the two bananas. Danny and Sam both stare down at what’s in Sam’s hands, and then Danny shoots Sam a tired look.

DANNY: More bananas?

SAM: Hyah!

Sam tosses the two bananas at Danny’s chest so they hit him with a soft thump before dropping to the floor. Danny stares down at the bananas, expressionless.

DANNY: You just bruised two perfectly good bananas.

SAM: Pick them up, you’ll get the prank. It’s a really stellar one.

Danny looks like he doesn’t want to, but he grabs the bananas and turns them around in his hands with his eyebrows arched.

DANNY: Oh my god. You drew my car and drum kit on these?

SAM: I’m on my A-game now, Daniel!

Sam runs off, cackling loudly. Danny watches him go and shakes his head.

DANNY: [to the camera] What does he think a prank is?

Danny places the bananas on the lobby table and then sighs and walks in the direction Sam went, passing by the studio where Josh is currently holed up. In the studio, Josh is stationed in front of a whiteboard.

JOSH: What story should I tell? What needs to be added to the Greta Van Fleet universe? [Speaking aloud as he writes on the whiteboard using a sharpie] I get carsick. No. Jake’s feet smell bad. No. Womb memories. No. European architecture. No. Argh!

Josh launches the sharpie off to the side and it crashes against one of Danny’s cymbals.

JOSH: This is impossible. I can’t do this by myself.

Josh eyes a landline phone sitting in the studio. The screen splits in two as Josh calls James Hetfield, and he answers the phone.

JAMES: Howdy, it’s the beast under your bed, in your closet, in your head. What can I do for ya?

JOSH: Hey, quick question, do you ever have such a hard time writing a song that you want to pull your brain out of your head and play basketball with it?

JAMES: Can’t say that I have.

JOSH: Darn.

JAMES: Want some advice? Don’t answer that. I’m gonna give it to you anyway. Write about the things that make your skin crawl, that make you shiver, that your brain actively avoids thinking about. That’s where your most complex emotions lay.

JOSH: Eighteen wheelers. I’m certain they can’t see me when I’m driving next to them.

JAMES: No, I’m talking about like the lowest of lows here. Think war, famine, plague, climate change, scary stuff.

JOSH: Chimpanzees. Ooh, I’m getting shivers. I think it’s working, James!

JAMES: Oh, um, okay, get to writing then, Josh. I won’t keep you.

With an air of triumph, Josh slams the phone down.

Outside the studio, Jake is talking on the phone with a 9-1-1 operator.

JAKE: I don’t think you understand what I’m saying, the water bottle moved.

9-1-1 OPERATOR: No, I get what you’re saying. That’s not an emergency, sir.

JAKE: Listen to me, the water bottle moved on its own. There’s something paranormal happening here, and I don’t want a poltergeist situation going down. Being sucked into a spooky closet is one of my top 10 fears.

9-1-1 OPERATOR: I’m going to hang up. I have other calls to get to.

The line disconnects. Jake huffs and jams his phone back into his pocket.

JAKE: How do they not have a paranormal sub-department?

In the background in the parking lot of the studio, Danny tiptoes into frame with a marshmallow gun and a pair of goggles on. He scans the area and then crouches down, on the prowl, trying to find Sam.

DANNY: [softly] Sammy, come out and play. I’ve got a little treat for you.

Danny continues creeping around the cars and, as he moves past Sam’s Tesla, Sam jumps out of the trunk, decked out in a banana costume.

SAM: [literally shouting] COME MISTER TALLY MAN, TALLY ME BANANA!

DANNY: [shouting back] WHAT IS WITH YOU AND THE BANANAS?

Sam reaches into his back pocket and retrieves a new banana, which he once again throws at Danny.

SAM: How does it ‘peel’ to get pranked this hard, Daniel?

Sam proudly removes himself from the trunk and stands in front of Danny, placing his hands on his hips with confidence. Danny can’t help but silently unload his marshmallow gun on Sam, pummeling him with mini marshmallows. Sam squeaks out in shock and ducks into a ball on the pavement. Danny continues until he’s out of marshmallows.

DANNY: [down to Sam] One more prank to go.

SAM: [coughing up marshmallows] You’ll never win.

Jake runs over to his band members.

JAKE: [still unbelievably on edge] There is something creepy afoot here.

DANNY: I’ve told you before, Jake, the moaning sounds you keep hearing are coming from the experimental band’s sessions down the hall.

JAKE: A water bottle moved right in front of my eyes.

SAM: [mocking, from the ground] Ooh scary.

Jake picks up a marshmallow from the ground and proceeds to chuck it at Sam.

JAKE: [back to Danny] There’s a ghost in there and it’s upset that we’re invading its space. I’m gonna get sucked into a closet if I go back in there, and I can’t risk it.

Danny and Sam exchange a glance.

DANNY: I’ll go back in with you and show you that there’s nothing to worry about.

SAM: And I’ll stay here because I really don’t care.

Danny shoots Sam a look and then guides a reluctant Jake back towards the studio.

JAKE: Do you have any holy water on you?

DANNY: I don’t think that works on ghosts, Jake. What do you think we’re up against here?

JAKE: I want to be prepared for anything.

Even though Jake is dragging his heels, Danny succeeds in pushing him through the front doors and guides him past the lobby, towards the “haunted” studio. Jake once again looks pale as a sheet.

DANNY: See? Nothing supernatural going on here. Except you. God, you look like a ghost.

JAKE: [whispering] I’m a ghost?

DANNY: No, no, come on, show me the room where it happened.

Jake starts to cautiously step towards the room when they hear Josh belting out lyrics down the hall. Danny and Jake stop in their tracks and listen.

JOSH: Ooh! Ooh! Aah! Aah! Chimpanzee on my mind, coming near me, he’s by my side!

Without uttering a word, it’s mutually agreed between Danny and Jake that they need to step in before Josh writes any more terrible lyrics. They both move to his studio door and storm in. Josh is sitting on a stool, shaking a tambourine, but stops when he notices them.

JOSH: Something wrong?

JAKE: What the hell are you singing?

JOSH: [cautiously] The new song?

DANNY: Chimpanzee on my mind?

JOSH: You don’t like it?

JAKE: Our album is called Starcatcher, Josh. Could you write about something a bit more on theme than apes?

JOSH: [matter of factly] They sent a chimp to space.

DANNY: This is a good starting point, Josh. Maybe try to work with something a bit more abstract. How do chimps in space make you feel?

JOSH: Confused.

DANNY: Okay? Try to work off of that.

JOSH: Yeah, yeah, okay.

Josh shoos Jake and Danny out of the studio and looks back at his notepad with a sigh. Jake and Danny step out of the room and move back towards the haunted studio. Jake stands by the door, glued in place. Danny watches him.

DANNY: Should I?

Jake purses his lips and nods. Danny slowly pushes the door open and steps in first. Jake hesitantly follows behind him. Danny scans around.

DANNY: Everything looks normal to me.

Jake has peeled himself away from Danny and is stationed in front of the haunted water bottle, where all of his problems began.

JAKE: [pointing a half centimeter to the right of where the water bottle is now sitting] It used to be here. But now it’s here.

DANNY: Uh huh.

JAKE: It jerked over on its own. I was nowhere near it. And there were weird scratching noises too. Maybe there’s something in the walls.

DANNY: Like a squirrel?

JAKE: Like a ghoul.

DANNY: You know, what is a ghoul?

JAKE: A force you shouldn’t reckon with.

DANNY: I wish you could be a bit more specific sometimes.

JAKE: I can’t help that I’m mysterious.

DANNY: No, actually I do think that’s something you can help -

A chilling sound fills the studio.

MYSTERIOUS GHOSTLY VOICE: Oohhohohooooohhhhhoooooooooo

Jake screams and jumps into Danny’s arms. Danny instinctually catches Jake. The lights start to flicker.

JAKE: RUN, DANNY, RUN! BEFORE THE CLOSET OPENS AND TAKES ME!

DANNY: THERE’S NO CLOSET IN HERE, JAKE!

Danny runs out of the studio anyways and bumps into Sam, still dressed in the banana costume, in the hall.

SAM: What’s going on?

JAKE: [not making any sense] Water bottle and wood and oohhhooooohooohooo sounds and ghouls and spooky and closets and -

SAM: Danny?

DANNY: The studio is haunted.

SAM: Oh, word.

Jake squirms out of Danny’s arms and faces Sam.

JAKE: You’re not freaked out?

SAM: Why should I be?

JAKE: Ghosts, Sam! They’ll get you! They’re always two steps ahead.

SAM: Ghosts don’t have feet.

JAKE: It’s an expression, Sam!

Cut to Josh in his studio. Jake and Sam’s argument is muffled outside the door, but still audible. Josh sits back on the ground in front of his notepad and pen.

JOSH: C’mere, lyrics, pspspsp, come to papa.

This obviously does not work.

JOSH: [tapping his pen on his chin] Maybe I’d be inspired by our old lyrics? Uhhh what’s a good one? Light My Love? Your mind is a stream of colors. Stream of colors, stream of colors, stream of co-lors. Stream of co…Hmmm. That’s it! A stream of consciousness! That should give me something to work with.

Josh picks up his pen, suddenly filled with a new surge of energy, and starts to scribble on his paper. A montage of Josh writing in different dramatic angles plays with a song similar to Gonna Fly Now blaring in the background. He finishes writing and drops his smoking pen to the floor.

JOSH: There.

As if he’s dealing with an ancient relic, Josh carefully lifts the notepad up to his eyeline and carefully scans over what he wrote.

JOSH: [reading aloud] All work and no play makes Josh a dull boy. All work and no play makes Josh a dull boy. All work and no play makes Josh a dull boy. Oh god! It goes on for four and a half pages!

Josh crumples the pages into tight balls and eats them, removing the evidence. Josh approaches the glass panel separating the studio from the sound booth and looks at his reflection, jabbing his finger into his reflection’s shoulder.

JOSH: No one can know about this, you hear me? No one! This is between you and me.

JOSH’S REFLECTION: Whatever you say, boss.

Josh shakes his head and backs away from his reflection.

JOSH: Woah. [to the camera] I wonder if Carole King has to deal with this.

JOSH’S REFLECTION: She doesn’t, but James Taylor does.

Josh hops away from the glass in shock and returns to the whiteboard in a daze.

JOSH: [to himself] It’s all in your head.

He attempts to wipe his previous notes away, but it’s not working since he wrote them out in sharpie. Josh drops his arms in defeat.

JOSH: What’s the point?

Josh reassumes his spot on the ground in the fetal position. In the studio lobby, Jake is in a similar position on the sofa, staring down at his knees in muted shock. Sam is sitting next to him, still in the banana costume, awkwardly patting his legs. Danny enters back into the room and takes a seat across from Sam and Jake.

DANNY: I didn’t hear any weird noises in any of the other studios. Well, actually, I think I heard Josh talking to himself, but that’s not out of the ordinary.

SAM: [to Jake] Hear that? The spooky ghost is on vacation.

JAKE: [softly] Ghosts can’t go on vacation.

SAM: How do you know? Are you a ghost?

Jake huffs but doesn’t continue to argue.

SAM: [to Danny] One of the assistants brought in some smoothies if you want one, they’re pretty good.

DANNY: Oh cool, thanks.

Danny grabs one of the smoothies from the table and takes a long sip. Sam is staring at him, looking on the brink of laughter. Danny sets the smoothie down and eyes Sam.

DANNY: What?

SAM: Got you!

DANNY: [paling] What? What did you do?

SAM: I put a little extra something in your smoothie.

Jake untucks himself out of his fetal position to watch the exchange between Danny and Sam. This is some interesting stuff.

DANNY: Sam, what did you do?

Sam, beaming wide, pulls out a banana peel and drops it on the floor in front of Danny. Danny looks down at it.

DANNY: I don’t get it.

SAM: I put a banana in your smoothie!

DANNY: Are you being serious?

SAM: Samuel Francis Kiszka does it again!

JAKE: Sam, smoothies already have bananas in them. It’s literally one of the main ingredients.

DANNY: Oh thank god, I thought you put laxatives in there.

SAM: The banana strikes again! I’m right on your tail, Daniel!

JAKE: I don’t think putting a banana in a smoothie counts as a prank, Sam.

Sam pouts. A bang and a crash comes from down the hall where Josh is. Jake springs to his feet in alarm.

JAKE: Josh?

Completely forgetting about his paralyzing fear of the haunted studio, Jake rushes down the hall to Josh. Danny and Sam trail behind him. Jake throws open the door to the studio and gapes at Josh, who is bashing a tambourine against the glass panel separating the studio from the sound booth.

JOSH: Stop! Talking! To! Me! Get! Out! Of! My! Head!

JAKE: Josh! Our insurance doesn’t cover trashed studios!

Josh continues banging on the glass. It’s as if he doesn’t realize Jake is there. Jake tries to turn Josh around to face him, but Josh doesn’t budge. From Josh’s perspective, he’s smacking his reflection with the tambourine while his reflection laughs and taunts him.

JOSH: Your treacherous ridicule will never break me!

Danny rushes to Josh’s side and drenches him with a bucket of ice water, finally snapping Josh out of his spell. He stumbles back from the glass a few steps and then holds at his head and grunts.

JOSH: [dejected] I didn’t write the new song. I got distracted.

SAM: Yeah, obviously.

Josh looks Sam down in his banana costume.

JOSH: Did Danny and Jake tell you about my chimpanzee song? Did you like it or something? Is this an act of solidarity?

SAM: Wait, you wrote a song about chimpanzees?

JOSH: James Hetfield told me to write about something that scares me.

SAM: And you wrote about chimpanzees?

JOSH: He shot down my idea about eighteen wheelers.

Sam doesn’t know how to respond to this.

JOSH: I’m sorry, you guys. I’m just not getting inspired in the right way. I don’t know if the lyrics are ever gonna come to me.

DANNY: Hey, they will. It just takes some time.

JAKE: I say we call it quits for the day. I wanna get out of here.

JOSH: [finally taking in Jake’s face for the first time] You look like you saw a ghost. What’s up with you?

JAKE: [whispering] That’s exactly what happened to me.

JOSH: Okay, yeah, let’s get out of here.

Jake and Josh move for the door but then stop when they realize Sam and Danny aren’t following behind them.

JOSH: You guys coming?

SAM: We’ll be right behind you, just give us a second.

Jake and Josh shrug and leave Sam and Danny behind. They move down the hallway and, when they pass the haunted studio, clawing noises sound inside the door. Jake and Josh exchange a terrified look.

JOSH: Is that?

JAKE: Yeah.

They’re both stuck in place, staring at the door in fear. The door starts to thump and spooky sounds come from inside the room. Before Jake or Josh can react, two sets of hands pop out of the door and drag them into the room.

JOSH: Oh mama!

Jake and Josh are standing in the dark as the door slams shut behind them.

JAKE: Josh?

A bunch of crashing noises sound and Jake lets out a yelp.

JOSH: Sorry, I tripped over something.

Jake fumbles for his phone and turns the flashlight on. Across from him he can see a panic-stricken Josh, his eyes darting around looking for danger. Jake slowly moves the flashlight around the studio, taking in the empty space, and then lets out a holler when he sees a shadowed figure standing in the corner of the room. Josh sees what he’s looking at and screams as well.

JOSH: It’s a chimpanzee!

JAKE: What? No, it’s a vengeful spirit!

The shadowed figure starts to slowly move closer to them and Jake and Josh embrace in a tight hug, screaming.

JOSH: [shrill] Stay back!

JAKE: I’m gonna kick you so hard in the gonads!

The shadowed figure stops about 20 feet away from Jake and Josh.

SHADOWED FIGURE: [in a large and booming voice] Jacob Thomas Kiszka and Joshua Michael Kiszka!

Jake and Josh scream at the top of their lungs, still hugging.

SHADOWED FIGURE: You have continually trespassed on my territory. You must face a reckoning for your carelessness.

JOSH: Would a simple sorry suffice?

SHADOWED FIGURE: NO!

Jake and Josh cower further.

SHADOWED FIGURE: You must go through the spooky door to another dimension.

JAKE: Oh god, no! Anything but that!

The door to the studio flings open on its own. Strobe lights and smoke flood into the studio from the door and Jake and Josh shield their eyes in fear. They both back up against the wall farthest from the door.

SHADOWED FIGURE: Whatever you think is beyond that door, it’s worse.

JOSH: [whispering to himself] Eighteen wheelers.

SHADOWED FIGURE: Three…

JOSH: Oh god not a countdown.

SHADOWED FIGURE: Two…

JAKE: What do we do?

SHADOWED FIGURE: One…

JOSH: It’s been nice knowing you, little bro.

Jake whirls to face Josh.

JAKE: By five minutes!

SHADOWED FIGURE: Zero!

Sam jumps between Jake and Josh, still in his banana costume.

SAM: IF YOU OR A LOVED ONE HAS BEEN DIAGNOSED WITH MESOTHELIOMA -

Jake and Josh jump about 4 feet in the air.

JAKE AND JOSH: AAAAAAUUUGHHHHHHHHHH!!!

The lights to the studio flick back on and Jake and Josh are greeted by the sight of Sam and Danny standing in front of them, laughing hard. Danny is wearing a cloak, revealing him to be the shadowed figure. Jake pushes out of Josh’s embrace and storms up to Sam and Danny.

JAKE: You need to start explaining yourselves now.

Sam puts his hands up, guilty as charged.

DANNY: I thought Sam was easy to prank, I guess it’s actually all the Kiszkas.

SAM: It’s amazing what a voice changing microphone and some strobe lights can do.

DANNY: And a fishing line.

JAKE: A fishing line?

Sam moves over to the haunted water bottle, steps behind the piano, and tugs on a string, making the bottle lurch to the side. Jake stares, dumbfounded.

JAKE: It was all you?

Sam and Danny share a glance.

DANNY: I mean, yeah.

JAKE: Why I oughta…

Jake moves his foot back, ready to kick Sam and Danny with all of his might when Josh speaks up, capturing all of their attention.

JOSH: I felt like such a massive chicken back there. But I think I finally understand what James was trying to tell me. I’m terrified of the unknown, of a feeling of hopelessness, where everything is crashing and burning around you, but you have to try and hold things together.

SAM: My god, he’s doing it.

Josh is already booking it back to his studio.

JOSH: The lyrics are coming! They’re crowning!

Jake looks back and forth between Danny and Sam like he still really wants to kick them, but ends up shaking his head and following behind Josh. Josh needs supervision in the studio moving forward - he can’t be left alone anymore.

SAM: That was one hell of a prank, Danny.

DANNY: I’m glad we could team up against Jake and Josh. They need a little humbling from time to time.

SAM: I couldn’t have said it any better.

Sam clasps Danny on the back and then motions towards the door.

SAM: Wanna watch Josh’s creative genius at work?

DANNY: I do like it when he yells, “BAJABULE!” every time he gets down a verse.

Danny walks past Sam and moves through the door. Sam happily follows behind him. When Danny turns into the hallway, he subtly drops the banana peel that Sam had thrown in front of him earlier. Sam doesn’t notice and steps on it, slipping backwards and falling with a loud THUD.

DANNY: Victory, baby!!

SAM: [dramatically groaning from the ground] What a tragic end to a war.

DANNY: Eat it!

Danny does an impressive victory dance over Sam, who is still sprawled on the floor in defeat. Transition to Josh, Jake, Danny, and Sam playing The Falling Sky in the studio. As the song finishes, they all come together.

JOSH: For a while there, I really thought I would never be able to write a song again.

DANNY: We’ve got a real winner on our hands. You know, like me.

SAM: Drop it, Daniel.

DANNY: I think you owe me something, Sam.

Sam grumbles but takes his bass off, retreats to the side of the studio, and returns with a crown made out of bananas. He brings it to Danny and places it on his head.

SAM: [emotionless] I hereby pronounce you, Daniel Jean Louise Marie Wagner, King of the Pranks. All hail the king.

Jake approaches Sam and Danny.

JAKE: As a congratulations, I would like to extend my foot into both of your shins.

As Jake is about to do this, the lights in the studio flicker out.

JOSH: The same joke twice isn’t very funny, guys.

JAKE: I didn’t think it was that funny the first time around.

DANNY: We didn’t do anything.

SAM: Yeah, that wasn’t us.

Chimp noises sound around the dark room. The band screams.

END OF EPISODE

#greta van fleet #gvf #jake kiszka #josh kiszka #sam kiszka #danny wagner #gvf fanfic #gvf fic #gvf fanfiction #greta van fleet fanfic #greta van fleet fanfiction #greta van fleet fic #fanfiction script #disney channel pilot #gvf disney #GIVE ALEX SO MUCH LOVE FOR THE TITLE HOLY SHIT #try and guess all the horror film references going on here #my subconscious mind was HARD AT WORK

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inuhalfdemon · 3 months

Text

Dirty Dealings (3/21)

Word Count: 1,962

Chapter 3: The Gossip

“But, I…” He swept a hand dramatically to rest on his chest. “Got my very first ‘crossroads demon’ moment.” He chuckled wickedly. - Alastor

Years passed and Addie LaRue continued to navigate her new-found life and its many challenges. Every year - to the day – on each and every June 25th, Alastor would visit her; wishing her yet another happy anniversary. He would offer her to close their deal; to give her rest from her miserable loneliness and collect her soul for his own. When she refused, he departed but not before offering her a gift; sometimes it was as simple as a new book to read or as meaningful as a pair of new shoes or clothes to wear. Addie hadn’t decided if this was something she came to appreciate from him or despise. Regardless, she persevered, determined to find her way in a world that was made to dismiss her completely.

______________________________________________________________

Despite having been busy with reaping souls on earth, Alastor still found time to enjoy a leisurely moment in Hell every now and then. He had grown rather fond of lunching or having tea with Rosie in Cannibal Town. He made it a point to stop in and share in a bit of gossip amongst her and some of the ladies there whenever he could.

It was a typical, hot and humid day there within the Pride Ring; no promise of acid rain or anything of the like. Alastor sipped happily at a cup of tea whilst Rosie and two of her cannibal-lady friends discussed the goings-on of the current reaping.

“…it’s put on by all of the Seven Deadly Sins, you know.” Rosie was explaining to the two women. “Every 10 years, eligible demons, sinners and Overlords are drawn and allowed to go to earth and reap as many souls as they can claim until the start of the next reaping. Of course, time works differently on earth. 10 years here, means 100 years there. Plenty of time to settle and collect from deals made.” Rosie paused to reach for one of the pinky fingers that was piled neatly on a small tray at the table they were all sitting. “Alastor here, is one of the Overlord demons participating in the current reaping!” She exclaimed excitedly. “And I’d say he’s already making a splash of things, what with having already passed the required quota by a landslide. He’s at the top of the collectors list, in fact!” She beamed back at him.

“Rosie,” Alastor smiled back at her, setting his tea cup down. “You flatter me. Why, from what I hear, I could learn a thing or two from you in the collecting of souls.”

Rosie blushed. “Yes, well….it’s been ages since I’ve participated. I’m much too busy keeping up with the souls I already have in contract.”

“WHERE’S ROSIE!?” A loud, grating voice cawed from nearby.

Alastor and the ladies all looked to see an ancient, cannibalistic woman shuffling right for them.

“Oh, dear…” Rosie sighed quietly before standing to meet the woman.

“Susan, dear. It’s good to see you.” Rosie greeted her warmly. “I hope you are having a lovely afternoon. Would you like to join us?”

“A lovely afternoon, my foot.” Susan said sharply. “Do you know that slut Linda went and got herself eviscerated by the hell hound that guards the butcher shop on 17th? What a dumb cunt.”

Alastor and the two ladies still seated at the table starred at the elderly woman, not saying anything.

Rosie touched Susan’s shoulder. “Now, Susan. I’m sure Linda did nothing to warrant the attack. Hell hounds are unpredictable at the best of times and that particular one is…well…I don’t think that necessarily makes Linda a…um…slut?”

“No.” Susan took a deep drag from the cigarette she was holding. “She was definitely a skank.” She finished, puffing out a large cloud of smoke.

Rosie blinked at her, unsure of what to say next when she remembered her friends.

“Susan, I would very much like to introduce you to a good friend of mine!” She changed the subject and brought the old lady toward the table with her.

Alastor quickly got up from his chair to greet the woman with his best smile. Any friend of Rosie’s deserved his utmost manners.

“Susan, you know all about the radio demon…” Rosie started.

“Ugh!�� Susan groaned disgustedly. “Don’t get me started with that load of hog-wash….what a sorry excuse for a radio station, am I right? Maybe if it were just the screams but then we’ve got to listen to a wannabe Overlord and his fake, noisy, crackling static-filled voice. And, how unoriginal!? Is that mediocre broadcast actually supposed to be scary!? I tell you, Rosie, Hell was better in the old days. I’d eat my own ears off if it meant not having to listen to that racket ever again.”

Everyone was deadly quiet.

Um…”Rosie began, rather awkwardly. “This is him, Susan.” She gestured weakly to Alastor.

“Alastor…meet Susan.” Rosie finished.

His smile stayed in place, but his body was straight as a rod as he assessed the infuriating old broad before him.

“….charmed.” His normally filtered voice had dropped it’s static; whether or not that was something intentional on his part, Rosie couldn’t guess.”

There was an awkward pause, in where nobody moved for several seconds.

Then, Susan took another long drag from her cigarette, slowly blowing the smoke out to the side of her mouth.

“Your broadcast sucks.” She told him sharply.

“OK!” Rosie said, quickly leading Susan away from the table. “Trudy? Jane? Would you both be dears and treat Susan to a lively round of Pinochle!? I’m sure you both could give her a real run for her money! What do you say!?”

The two ladies slid from their seats, and circumventing Alastor safely while remaining close enough not to appear rude, they took Susan with them as they departed.

Rosie sighed heavily as the women gathered up Susan and hurriedly left with her.

“I apologize,” Rosie started to say to Alastor. “Susan, can be-“

“BRING CECIL PALMER BACK!!!” Susan’s voice could be heard yelling away from them.

Rosie stood with Alastor, not saying anything anymore. He was perfectly, frighteningly still, a smile still plastered across his face.

One of his ears twitched slightly, then he asked her, “Is that one contracted?”

“I’m afraid so.” She told him.

“Well, that’s…disappointing.” He commented cooly, going back to take his seat.

Rosie breathed a small sigh of relief, before returning to her chair as well.

Alastor straightened the lapel of his suit jacket pointedly. “You know…it’s not like I can’t take criticism. I have bettered the quality of the screams I play a fair bit from my original broadcast, and the voice…is it still too static-y?”

“Oh, Alastor!” Rosie chided. “Don’t give it a thought. Susan’s a nightmare to everyone, even in Hell. Now, enough of that. I want to know more about your earthly exploits! Come on now, you must have some interesting prospects!”

“Rosie, you know I respect the privacy of my clients.” Alastor teased her.

“Oh, but I am terribly curious…”

“Well,” He sipped his tea. “I did manage to track down a handful of serial killers; you do know how I am partial to their ilk. I find their line of work quite rewarding…when done tastefully, of course.”

“Oh, how exciting.” Rosie giggled. “Anyone that may be of interest to me?”

Alastor sighed. “I’m afraid not. Cannibals are a lot less common these days, it would seem.” Flashing his ever-present smile at her, he added, “No reason I can’t do a little digging though, see if I can turn up any leads. Just for you, my dear.”

“Oh, you are too kind.” Rosie beamed.

“Oh, yes!” Alastor straightened, excitedly. “I almost forgot!”

With a sweep, he stood up from his seat and produced his microphone staff. Spinning it about with ease, he created a small portal. Reaching into it, he pulled out a clump of something. He stopped the cane and the portal disappeared. The something he had collected started to move and one, large bright eye opened up surrounded by a row of razor-sharp teeth.

“This little amusing treat is, Niffty!” He proudly exclaimed, sitting back down. “I collected her on my last outing!”

“Hi! Hi! Hey! Hello!” Niffty sputtered, jumping onto little legs to dart around the legs of the table and chairs.

“Why, hello, dear.” Rosie welcomed. “My, you are a quick thing.” She commented, watching as Niffty darted to and fro all about the town square.

“Is her name really ‘Niffty’?” Rosie asked, her large black eyes trying to keep up with the little creature’s movements.

“I have no idea.” Alastor admitted. “I call her ‘Niffty’ because I think she’s quite nifty!” He laughed.

“Alastor!” Rosie chastised him. “She’s not a pet!”

Rosie watched as Niffty picked at a line of ants going across the sidewalk near the table. A raven flew down and hopped close, interested in what she was doing. Niffty arched her back and hissed at the raven like a cat, sending it quickly flying away.

“At least…I don’t think she is…”

Alastor chuckled. Clearly enjoying his new addition.

He and Rosie sipped at their tea some more, enjoying the afternoon quietly together. Not much longer, and he would be on his way. He played his fingers along the tables edge before saying, “There is one prospect I have that is rather interesting…”

“I knew it!” Rosie cried. “I knew you were holding out on me! What is it!? Something…political. Oh, I do love a good scandal!”

“Really, Rosie?” Alastor, smiling but still showing his disappointment. “Politics?”

“Hey, it’s a guilty pleasure…” She shrugged.

“No, nothing like that.” He told her. “But, I…” He swept a hand dramatically to rest on his chest.

“Got my very first ‘crossroads demon’ moment.” He chuckled wickedly.

“Uh…what?” Rosie asked, confused.

“A mundane human soul came to me to strike a deal. A young woman, in fact. Her aching heart yearned for freedom from the entrapment of the threat of impending death. She wanted more time to see and experience the world to its fullest, to have limitless possibility and cast aside her mortal coils.” He drawled, snickering. “Oh, I gave it to her too. With a cleverly placed clause of my own, of course.”

Rosie starred at him, unsmiling. He was still chuckling to himself over his own antics, he didn’t notice.

“You’re joking, right?” She asked him, serious.

His chuckling subsided, noticing her stark lack of humor.

“Tell me, you’re joking, Alastor.” Rosie said. “You did not make a deal with a human soul that involved the lengthening of their lifespan.”

Alastor straightened, defensive now.

“What’s the big deal?” He asked. “She’s…human. She’ll grow tired of it soon enough; if she doesn’t go mad and-“ He pointed a finger, stopping Rosie from interrupting. “I added quite a nasty catch to the deal that makes it so she can never be remembered. By anyone. She’s left to wander the rest of her days utterly and completely alone. She’ll fold.” He smirked.

“I don’t know…” Rosie began, “That might work…”

He was becoming agitated.

“I’m not trying to…undermine you.” Rosie carefully explained. “It’s just…for a human to live a life beyond what is allotted, that takes power to do, Alastor. Power that will be directly coming from you. And, a pure soul…that’s something very different from making deals with sinners or demons.”

He was smiling, but he wasn’t happy.

“Look,” Rosie said, backing off. “I’m sure you’ve got it all under control. You are a powerful Overlord, you’ve got plenty of power to work with that’s for sure. And, I’ll admit…it is a very tempting prospect, it could turn into being a very profitable investment to you.”

He started to relax, his smile coming back as more genuine now.

“Oh.” He said. “I think this deal will be very rewarding.”

_____________________________________________________________

Chapter 4

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wannabespacesmuggler · 1 year

Text

Small Talk and Mediocre Coffee | Strike Out

Chapter Fifteen | Masterlist | Buy me a coffee

Summary: You recently moved to Storybrooke and began working the morning shift at Granny’s diner. Meanwhile, Killian Jones has been working the night shift on the docks of Storybrooke for years. When his routine gets turned upside down, he begins to understand the simple joy brought by an early cup of coffee, as long as you’re the one pouring it.

Pairing: Killian Jones x Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.5K

Extras: Playlist – A playlist for two idiots in love: a gruff outcast who hates coffee but now drinks it every morning because the waitress at the diner keeps smiling at him as they pour it.

Author’s Note: Decided to use my day off to work on a little holiday update for Small Talk and Mediocre Coffee. I'm actually really happy with how this one came out. Happy Holidays friends, I hope this brings you a little bit of joy! Also, I know some of my tags have been acting funky so let me know if they worked this time. Idk if it's just tumblr being weird or something on my end, but I'll try to fix it as best I can.

“You made it!”

You let out a laugh as you’re tackled by a hug from Henry. You’re glad the game hasn’t started yet. After finishing your shift, you moved as quickly as you could to the school in hopes of catching Henry before the game began.

“Of course I did!”

Henry pulls away and moves back to Regina’s side, who he was talking to before you arrived. You’ve met Regina before. She’s not quite a regular at the diner like Killian, Emma, and David, but she has come in a few times with Henry to grab dinner.

“Thank you for coming. Henry was so excited when you said you’d be here. He couldn’t stop talking about it all week.”

Henry’s face flushes as Regina speaks. He immediately crosses his arms over his chest, defiantly.

“I did not!”

Luckily, he’s saved from further embarrassment as his coach calls him over to his team’s bench leaving you and Regina in awkward silence. Every time you’ve interacted with the mayor, Henry has been there to facilitate conversation. You shift on your feet and Regina seems to notice immediately.

“Emma, David, and Mary are already in the stands.”

She motions behind her and you give her a thankful nod before moving in that direction. It seems like the whole town has come out to watch the game today. The stands are packed with familiar faces from the diner who smile at you as you pass by. Eventually, you spot Emma in the crowd. She smiles at you as you make your way over and nudges Killian with her shoulder who is sitting beside her on the edge of the bleachers.

Killian’s dark locks are covered by a light blue baseball cap that perfectly matches the t-shirt he’s wearing. You recognize the logo on both immediately as it’s the mascot for Henry’s team -- the Storybrooke Knights. It’s a stark contrast from his usual dark attire, but you have to admit that it’s undeniably cute how much he supports Henry.

After receiving hugs from David and Mary, Emma slides toward her parents and lets you take a seat between Killian and herself.

“You guys are making me feel left out here!”

You complain to Emma while motioning toward her shirt which has the same suit of armor depicted on Killian’s. Emma lets out a laugh before placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it, Henry’s just excited you’re able to make it.”

Wordlessly, Killian takes off the baseball cap he was wearing and places it gently on your head. You pull your attention away from Emma and look at him. He’s already looking at you and you attempt to hide the way your face flushes due to the tenderness in Killian’s actions.

“Can’t have anybody thinking you’re rooting for the other team.”

You playfully roll your eyes at the man and bump his shoulder with yours, earning a hearty laugh from Killian in response.

Henry’s team ends up winning by a landslide in their first game of the season and the town is loud with their celebration. Emma invites you and Killian to ice cream, but you both decline, deciding that it’s more of a family affair. She gives you a hug before heading toward Henry and her parents, leaving just you and Killian together. Before you can ask him what he wants to do with the rest of the day, he slugs an arm around your shoulders and pulls you toward the direction of your bench by the docks. You smile and wrap an arm around his waist

You’re both mesmerized by the movement of the crashing waves. Usually, you find yourself at this bench with Killian late in the evening after the sun had already set. You haven’t had a chance to simply bask in the beauty of the ocean, as you’ve been so distracted by the night sky.

The silence between you and Killian is comfortable. You could spend hours just sitting here with him. However, a single thought has been bothering you incessantly over the last couple of days and you know you need to talk to Killian about it before you think yourself to death.

“Killian?”

He hums in response next to you, not even bothering to turn his head. You’ve placed the baseball cap back on his head. A few strands of midnight black locks poke out from the hat, making him look younger than usual. Typically, Killian Jones exudes a gruff and weathered demeanor, but right now, bathed in sunset hues, he seems almost youthful in appearance.

“Can I ask you something?”

Killian turns his head toward you. His features are flooded with concern: brow furrowed and jaw tight. Before speaking, his eyes roam over your face briefly, trying to get a read on you.

“Anything, love.”

“Are you happy?”

Killian’s expression quickly shifts into confusion.

“What?”

You simply repeat your question, ignoring that you can practically hear your heart pounding in your chest. Killian leans back further into the bench as he takes a minute to genuinely think about your question. If Dr. Hopper asked him, Killian already has a bullshit answer ready. He’s good at that -- knowing exactly what to say to appease those around him. It’s a skill he picked up during those years running with Liam and his gang. But he’s not talking to Dr. Hopper or Liam.

No, he’s talking to you. And he won’t bullshit you.

Killian supposes he should be happy. He’s got it pretty good here in Storybrooke -- a paying job and a decent place to call home. There have been times that he’s certainly had it far worse. He still refuses to think back to those lonely nights he spent locked up, wondering if he’d even have a life when he finally got out of there. He knows he should just be thankful for everything he’s been given and earned after his release, even if it isn’t the life he dreamed of when he was a younger man. Still, there is this thought in the back of his head that continues to gnaw at him: is this it? The thought terrifies him to his core; however, if there is one thing that does make him content with the life he’s created, it’s the people who he cares for -- David, Emma, Mary, Henry, little Neal, Herc, you.

So, to answer your question, Killian simply shrugs his shoulders.

“I guess. Nothing to complain about, I suppose.”

You nod at his words. He’s not sure if that’s the answer you wanted, but it’s as truthful as he can be.

“Why do you ask?”

The ghost of a smile pulls at your lips as you think back to the conversation you had with Henry. You decide to take a page out of Henry’s book and be brazen.

“It’s just something Henry said earlier this week. He said that you’ve seemed happier since you met me.”

A smile spreads across Killian’s face as you speak. The boy certainly takes after his grandfather in one way: he can read Killian like a goddamn picture book. Henry may be young, but his intuition is far beyond his years.

“Well, love, the young lad isn’t wrong.”

Your grin widens as a flush creeps up your face. You reach out and place your hand on Killian’s -- your silent way of telling him that you’re happier because of him too. Before you have a chance to pull your hand back, Killian flips his over and laces his fingers with yours. Your face flushes entirely as you look at your intertwined hands. Eventually, you shift your gaze to Killian’s face and find that he is already looking at you. Your breath catches in your throat. No one has ever looked at you with such adoration before. You watch as Killian’s gaze moves from your eyes to your lips. Deciding to continue your sudden boldness, you lean in first. Killian happily takes your lead. You close your eyes in anticipation, but, before Killian can get any closer, his phone begins ringing.

You swear you hear Killian growl as he pulls away from your orbit and pulls his phone out of his pocket. As Killian answers the call, you let out the breath you were holding. You know he’s frustrated -- his tone is short and his jaw is clenched. Without thinking, you intertwine your fingers with his again. His posture immediately relaxes at the sudden physical contact. He turns and gives you an apologetic look. You simply squeeze his hand in response, before letting go as he hangs up. Killian lets out a long sigh before speaking.

“That was Herc. We’re getting a big shipment tonight and they need an extra man at the docks to help out.”

You nod, trying to hide your disappointment; however, it is written all over your face. Killian frowns at the sight.

“I’m sorry I have to go, princess.”

“It’s okay. Herc needs you. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

And with that, just as quick as it began, the moment was gone.

Tags: @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @alexa-fangirl-forever @mossnomori @captainamericasinnocence @fictionalhoomanofnowhere @ceruleanrainblues @lily-d247 @victoria-a567 @drinkfantasy @thisismelayla @its-not-too-late-for-coffee @rinymichelle321 @aesteticthotiere @popcrone818 @helplesslydevoted @limelightliterature @unlikelyandrogynousghost @theslytherinwriter

156 notes · View notes

the-tripping-and-the-touching · 6 months

Text

Landslide (series)

Part Nine

Pairing: Josh x reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Summary: You've lost something in a hiking accident... are you prepared for it to come back?

Warnings: angst.

MASTERPOST

Playlist

An unceremonious toss of a pillow onto your face was your wake-up call the next morning. Adjusting your eyes to the light-filled living room, you looked up, squinting, to find Josh standing over you with his eyebrows furrowed. For a split-second the warm, uncomplicated feeling you’d associated with Josh for so long washed over you. That is, until last night crashed into you like a wave during a hurricane.

“Why’d you let me sleep alone in your bed?” He maintained his stare, his eyes lightening to a deep amber in the golden morning sun.

Clearing your throat a little as you pulled yourself up to sit, you raced to find an excuse as to why you wouldn’t just join him after he’d fallen asleep. “I, uh… was feeling sick.” Terrible work. You studied his face as he took in your answer, the expression that laid on it unchanging.

“Why not just wake me up and kick me out then? You didn’t have to sleep on the couch.” His line of questioning continued, but it was free of any accusatory tone. If you weren’t so guarded, you may have even detected a level of concern.

“You just looked so comfortable.” That, in itself, was not a lie. He had looked very comfortable, curled up on top of your comforter as you uncovered the evidence of his nondisclosure. But you knew you couldn’t go into more detail. You couldn’t tell him how, if you had woken him up last night, you would have unleashed your very own barrage of inquiries, most likely in a tone less forgiving than the one he was adopting for this conversation.

Again, he mulled over your answer, before his expression finally shifted. “Just don’t… Just wake me up next time. I sleep perfectly fine in my own bed too.” He leaned over, feeling your forehead with the back of his hand. “And you don’t feel warm.” Shrugging, he turned to the door and grabbed his keys before catching your eyes one last time. “I’ve gotta go to work, try not to get yourself another brain injury while I’m gone.” And with a flash of perfectly white teeth, he was gone, leaving you sitting all alone on the couch.

Waiting for a few minutes after you heard his tires pull out of the driveway and carry his car down the street, you finally mustered the courage to pick yourself up off the couch and walk to the place you knew your answers would be. Going straight to the far corner of your bedroom, you reached up as high as you could and felt around the top of your hanging planter, until your fingertips found purchase on a smooth wooden surface.

Careful to not pull the whole thing down from your ceiling, you picked up a rough little box and put your feet flat on the floor again. Swallowing, you sat yourself on the hardwood, needing to be as close to the ground as possible at this moment. Taking as much time as you could bare, you held the tiny receptacle in your palms, staring at the grain pattern for more than a few seconds as you prepared yourself for what you imagined was in there.

You set the container down in front of you before slowly pulling the lid up by the sides. Piled inside were dozens of little sticky notes, all scrawled on with Josh’s quick handwriting. Taking the first one between your fingers, you brought it closer to read. “Call me!” Not bad. You shuffled through a few more harmless pieces of paper before a new one caught your eye.

“You have my heart”. Shit. There’s no way, right? Fighting the urge to just snap the lid shut before you completely left the realm of blissfully unaware, you pressed on, grabbing the next note. They only increased in flirtiness and insinuation, until you picked the last one up.

Shivers ran down your spine as you read, confusion pounding against your skull as the ink seemed to leap off the paper at you. “Already miss how you taste” was all that was written, but the implication of it was enough to make your breath catch in your throat. Letting it slip from your fingers, the little note fluttered to the floor, joining the rest of them as you tried to stop the spinning in your head.

The sight of the colorful slips of paper scattered around you was enough to make you feel like you were losing your mind. And as much as you almost wished that were true, you also knew that you had to have collected these notes for a reason. They were tucked away safe and out of sight, in a place that clearly only you knew of.

In that moment, that pressing desire you had, to recall the start of your summer, became unbearable. You tucked into yourself, the weight of the situation coming down on you as your knees came up to your chest. Frustration came to a boil inside of you, forcing tears out of your eyes as you felt your cheeks get hot. Unable to even attempt wrapping your mind around the situation you found yourself in, you let yourself cry, closing your eyes as you stayed curled up on the floor, surrounded by the proof you had walked in on Josh trying to find right after you’d gotten back from the hospital. Notes that clearly meant just as much to him as they apparently had to you.

Nothing seemed to feel real until the click of the front door closing snapped you back to reality. Shuffling the notes back into a messy stack, you shoved them back into their box before placing it back in the planter, out of sight. Cautiously, you opened your bedroom door, watching with wide eyes as a boy so similar to Josh, yet so strikingly different, made his way into your kitchen.

After a few long seconds, taken to dry your face and make a poor attempt at cooling it off, you emerged into the main space. Stepping lightly, you approached him, studying him as he pulled a glass from the cupboard and stood in front of the sink, filling it with water. Just as he was about to bring it to his lips, you spoke up.

“Jake?”

In a flash of dark brown and denim, you were wrapped in his arms. A wave of relief washed over you as he held you close, the warmth of his embrace radiating all around as you relaxed for the first time since you’d woken up. You sniffled a little, a byproduct of the tearful event that had just occurred, and he pulled away, looking at your face for the first time in months. Remembering the same excuse you had given Josh, you offered him an explanation for the stuffy nose, “I think I’m coming down with something.”

He scanned over your features before the edges of his lips curled up, giving you one of those soft smiles that you had always associated with him. “And here I was thinking you were getting emotional over me coming to visit.” You were happy to see Jake. Happy enough to get teary-eyed, truly, if your discoveries hadn’t just about tapped you out.

“If I cried every time you came to visit your brother, it wouldn’t be as special, would it?” In all honesty, you probably would have let a tear or two slip past if this were any other day. Jake had always been special to you, in a way that really only the two of you could understand.

Given the position of you two being Josh’s best friend and twin brother, respectively, there was plenty of venting to be done through the years. And while you were typically at the Kiszka household to visit Josh, you would never be disappointed if his twin met you at the door instead. If you ever needed some time to just relax, you could always visit Jake in the garage and listen to him pluck at his acoustic until he formed a new riff. Although there was never really any pressure from Josh to be anything more than yourself, the feelings you had for him always kept you on the tiniest edge. But there was never a stress like that when it came to Jake. Over the years, he had become a friend that you had grown to always need.

“You know I’m never here to visit only my brother, sunshine.” The feeling of his hands on your shoulders was a comfort too rare nowadays, the nickname washing over you like a warm wind. His eyes flicked across you, not catching on any of your bruises, like you’d almost expected. “Looking good for someone that almost let a couple rocks kill ‘em.” Of course. Unlike Josh, a moment between you and Jake could never be too sweet for too long.

You laughed, pushing away from him and pulling a glass from the cupboard for yourself. “It was a landslide, Jake. More than a couple rocks.” Following his lead, you filled it with some water, already feeling your need to rehydrate.

“Yeah, yeah.” Looking at him again, you noted how his smile had changed into one of his big grins. You pushed his shoulder gently before walking to the kitchen table and pulling a chair out to sit in.

Following suit, he joined you at the table, rotating his glass around his fingertips. “So, Josh give you any warning at all about us coming to visit?” His voice held a certain warmth this morning, lulling you into nearly ignoring a certain word he had chosen to use.

“Us? Don’t tell me…” Your eyes shot up to meet his, eyebrows immediately furrowing.

“Shit, he really didn’t tell you anything. Sam’s at the studio with him right now, doing what little brothers do best.” At least he wasn’t here. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see him, you loved Sam. He was just more inclined to ask questions and make invasive observations than Jake, and you found yourself thanking the stars that he wasn’t here to witness and analyze your weak excuse for your puffy eyes. “At least they said they’d come home with dinner.”

You knew his eyes were on you, and as hard as you tried to keep up your unbothered demeanor, you also knew that Jake was always able to see straight through you. Thankfully, he didn’t take it as an opportunity to pry. You had to count your blessings, he never really did.

“Everyone else stayed home for the summer, work and internships and whatever nonsense they have. Nothing as exciting as coming to this place for a few days.” He nudged your arm with his elbow, pulling a small smile from you. Good enough for him.

It was always a gift to have Jake in a rambling mood. People would never know it when they saw him next to his twin, but he could talk just as much. On a good day, you could get him spiraling through topics every few minutes, keeping you happily entertained for hours.

“I mean, having you to visit in the middle of all the bullshit I’m dealing with with the band? Fucking saving me, you don’t even know.” Huffing a laugh and rolling his eyes, he took a moment to look around your kitchen. It wasn’t hard to see, after all of these years, that there was some sort of storm rumbling under his cool exterior.

“The band?” Your head tilted as you asked the question, your eyes not leaving his face as his caught on the little brass wall hanging in the shape of the sun that hung right above your head. He bit on the inside of his cheek as he mulled over his words.

Finally his thoughts solidified, but his eyes didn’t leave the metal sun. “When Josh moved out here, I had to scrap the whole band thing we had going.” His voice was heavier, almost like he was still mourning the loss of his twin. “Without Josh’s voice, every song was just kind of fucked… had to restart.”

Bringing his hand up to his face, he started playing with his bottom lip, running his fingers along the edge of it before pulling it a little. You knew there had to be a thousand things rushing through his head, though you’d never actually considered what coming to visit must do to him.

The move was hard for both of them, but especially so for Jake. To have a support system was one thing, but to have someone by your side for quite literally your entire life? It was a gift he hadn’t understood the true value of until it accepted an admission offer from across the country and tore his best friend away from him. His best friends.

“It’s interesting,” he seemed to snap out of his thoughts, “I never imagined my playing could sound like it does now.”

A laugh bubbled up from your chest as your eyes focused back on his. “Yeah, I guess studying for a music degree tends to enhance your skills.” There it was. That smile was back.

“If you say so, sunshine.” He tipped his glass back and forth on the table, watching the water inside lap against the sides as he formulated a new query. “Do you really remember everything?”

“Mostly.” You offered him a shrug as you sipped on your own drink. “The beginning of the summer is a little fuzzy, but it’s not like you were visiting then. At least not that I’m aware of.”

Letting out a little chuckle, he set his glass down flat and started to drum his fingertips on the tabletop. “Ah.”

“Ah?” An abrupt response wasn’t exactly what you were expecting, or what you were looking for.

“Just, uh, I was gonna offer to fill in some gaps, but you sound set.” His eyes went down to his tapping fingers after he spoke, the repetitive motion filling the silence with a dull noise.

“That all?” Your foot taps against his leg under the table, pulling his attention back to you.

“Yeah, yeah.” Another soft laugh falls from the small smile that had found its way back to his lips. “Was hoping for your sake that you’d lost your memory of all those films Josh makes you rewatch. Make it feel like you were seeing them for the first time instead of the hundredth.”

A louder laugh comes from you, widening his grin. “At least they’re good. God forbid he had taste like yours.”

“Hey! In no world does A Clockwork Orange have better rewatch value than anything I’ve ever shown you.” Just like that, falling back into your routine, you and Jake laughed with each other for hours, up until the moment you heard the key turn in the front door’s lock. Up until that tiny click pulled you away from it, you’d been having possibly the most restorative day yet since you were released from the hospital.

Hearing the same thing as you, Jake rose from his seat, meeting his brothers at the door as it swung open. Pizza boxes in tow, Josh waltzed into the kitchen, tapping your head lightly as he breezed by you. Making as much of an effort as you could with the memory of that morning hitting you, you rose to meet Sam, letting him wrap his long arms around your shoulders.

“This asshole popped up behind me as I was trying to frame a scene this morning.” Josh shouted over his shoulder as he pulled plates from a cupboard. “I can’t imagine Jake’s entrance here was any less nightmare-inducing.”

Just like that, a war was instantly waged in your mind. You could respond, acting like nothing had happened, or you could not, leaving him hanging at the risk of sending this entire evening, possibly even Jake and Sam’s entire trip, to absolute disaster.

Luckily, a choice was made for you as Jake defended himself, “All I did was help myself to some water after my journey!”

“You make it sound like you walked here from Michigan.” You quipped back, pulling paper towels off the roll and setting them on the kitchen table next to the boxes.

As much as you wanted to run from this situation, to go lock yourself in your room, you knew that the younger brothers didn’t deserve that. You knew that showing up at an inopportune time shouldn’t sentence them to a week of silence and domestic warfare. Accordingly, you pulled it together, trying not to make a point of only responding to the two of them. As much as they had a right to a friendly visit, Josh had forfeited his right to your conversation.

So for the first time in what very well could have been your entire adult life, you sat through a dinner without so much as stealing a glance at Josh. You almost made it through unscathed, the clamor of laughter and shouting covering your pointed silence. Almost.

“I need to know where the hell I’m sleeping, because the floor didn’t exactly agree with me last time.” Jake’s words crashed into you like a freight train, the weight of them immediately sobering you to the reality of the closing night.

“Well I’m not taking the floor either.” Sam piped up, sealing your fate.

You could feel his eyes on you before a single sound escaped his mouth, confirming what was about to happen. “We could always just sleep in your bed. They can argue over the couch and mine. I’m not really worried about getting sick.” For the first time that night, you looked at Josh. It was almost painful, the way the warm kitchen lighting deepened the color of his eyes, inviting you in like a siren on a stormy night. He shot you a wink, the edges of his lips curling up.

“I don’t think so, I really don’t feel well. Why can’t one of them take the couch in your room? Then no one has to sleep on the floor.” Your eyes didn’t leave his, even as Sam started speaking again. Like it was a game. Like he was daring you to look away, to get flustered, to give in.

“I’m not sleeping in the same room as either of them, I wouldn’t get a wink of sleep with the way they snore.” That earned him an elbow from Jake, leaving the two of them to bicker.

“C’mon,” Josh just had to keep pressing you. To him, this was how it was meant to be. To him, you had no idea. To him, your condition was some sort of miraculous second chance at whatever game he was playing. “It's not like it’s new for us. Jake can take my bed, Sam’ll sleep out here. Seems like everyone wins.”

That was as much as you could take. Because you couldn’t let him win. Not when you were losing as badly as this. “No.” It came out harsher than you would have liked, but drove the point home quicker than anything else you could have said. Knowing the look on his face had the ability to break your resolve, you went back to avoiding interaction with him.

Not giving them time to get up or say anything about your response, you gave Jake and Sam quick hugs before turning and walking straight back to your bedroom, swinging the door fully shut behind you.

As you got ready for bed, you could hear the shocked silence slowly turn into quiet bickering, no doubt over who got to sleep away from the others. You let the darkness of your room wash over you as you collected yourself, speechlessly praising yourself for staying firm on your decided course. Eventually, as you laid in bed scrolling through every app that offered some sort of distraction, the conversation died down to nothing as they found their spots for the night.

Texts from the twins rolled in during the silence, both asking what was wrong, Jake offering an open ear. As much as your mind was begging to be unburdened, you knew you couldn’t. Not now. So while you drifted off to sleep alone, a million thoughts ran through your head, each one of them focused on the boy who lived in the next room over.

#josh kiszka x reader #josh kiszka fic #josh kiszka #gvf fic #landslide fic

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