#jo march x fem! reader

[vivwritesfics]

Can you write a max verstappen x fem reader where they do anal (fem receiving) cause he won a championship or a race please

I made this goofy because... i can and i love goofy max

Mornings: Smut, foreplay, fingering, use of good girl, anal, mention of handcuffs

March 1st, 2023

"You know how we pulled out the handcuffs when I won the championship last year, what do I get this time?" Max asked his girlfriend as they laid in bed together.

They were days away from the season opener. Max didn't need any motivation other than to get the win, but he wanted something else.

Y/N thought on it. "Something kinkier than handcuffs, right?" She asked and Max nodded his head. "Okay, how about... anal?"

"Huh?"

"You heard me." She wasn't going to repeat it.

Max didn't agree, not right away. "I've got one better," he said. "Anal, but whenever I get a win. Then we do something properly crazy when I win the championship." He wore a smirk as he said it.

She thought about it. There was no way Max was gonna win almost every race, right? She held her hand towards him. "Alright, deal."

March 5th 2023, Bahrain

"Shit," she whispered as she watched Max finish his final lap twelve seconds ahead of his teammate. Thank God nobody had heard her. Thank God Jos Verstappen hadn't heard her.

No, she was genuinely happy for her boyfriend. She ran to the barrier to great him, throwing her arms around him. She wasn't going to kiss him, not when he was wearing his helmet after a race (those things get diiirty).

He did what he had to, held his trophy up on the podium, sprayed the champagne, conducted the interviews. As soon as he was done he walked out of the paddock, holding his girlfriends hand. "Excited for tonight?" He whispered in her ear, his arm slipping around her body. For once he didn't care about the cameras on him.

"Max, I'm so proud of you, but my ass already hurts."

Max waited until they got into the car. "We don't have to do it if you don't want to," he said gently, his hand on her knee.

She shook her head. "I made a promise. We bought the lube for a reason."

Max pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. "That's my girl," he whispered and they set off to the hotel.

Normally she and Max would by flying straight back to Monaco, not staying in the country of the Grand Prix. But tonight? Max couldn't wait to get her back into the bed. "Any time you want to stop, we can," he said as they parked up.

Taking her hand, he led her up to the hotel room. In the elevator he held her hips, squeezing. He kissed her neck, her head thrown back against his shoulder, until the elevator doors opened.

They walked down the hall, his lips still on her neck, with her giggling as she struggled to open the hotel room door. She just about got it open when Max lifted her up and it closed one again. "Maxy," she whispered, her forehead against his. "The door."

Using one hand (while still holding her up) he struggled to get the keycard into the door and push it open. It took several attempts, but eventually they were in the room.

"Fuck yeah," he whispered, dropping her onto the bed. She erupted into laughs and giggles.

He was going to make this fun for her, make it enjoyable for her. As long as she was having a good time, he was happy.

She rolled onto her stomach and Max immediately pulled down her jeans. He slapped her ass and then squeezed. "Fuck, I love your ass," he said. He squeezed both cheeks at the same time. "I'm gonna win every race this season."

"Oh, I have no doubt you are," she responded.

Max pulled down her panties. He felt her, lightly touched her folds. Even just his fingers barely touching her had her shivering. "Hurry up and touch me," she whispered, pushing against his hand.

"Alright, needy," he said and gripped her ass again.

He pushed her folds apart, caught a glance of how wet she was. "Holy shit," he whispered.

In the years they had been together, Max had become an expert. He knew just how to touch her body in a way that had her trembling beneath him. He knew just what he wanted to do, knew how he wanted to treat her.

"Just one orgasm first, yeah?"

She nodded, unable to bring the words to her lips. "That's it, that's my girl," he said, pumping his fingers in and out of her.

She quivered below him. "Max, fuuuuck!" She cried out, clenching around his fingers.

He slapped her ass. "Shit!" She squeaked, eyes shut as she came.

"Now to the fun stuff," Max said. He pinched her thigh and got up, wandering over to his bag.

Buried beneath everything was a great big bottle of lube. She just turned her head, watching as Max pulled it out and walked it over. "I didn't realise we bought such a big bottle," she said, somewhat astounded.

Max took his time with her. He dropped a good amount of lube onto her ass and worked her open. It was a slow process, painful at first. But she relaxed, trusted Max to take care of her. "That's it, my good girl," Max whispered. He squeezed the flesh of her ass, trying to relax her.

When she was nice and loose, Max leaned forward and kissed her shoulder blade. "You're nice and loose now, Mijn liefje," he whispered. "Are you ready for me?"

She nodded her head.

"Words, baby."

"I... I'm ready Max," she stuttered out.

Max still took his time. He pulled her apart and pushed himself forward. When his tip met her hole she gasped, and Max slowed himself down. "You're doing so good," Max whispered, pulling himself back.

Each time he pushed into her, he went just a little bit further. No amount of preparation could have made this any easier. But Max was so soft, so sweet, so gentle with her.

He thrust himself into her, his pace slow. Her squeezed him gasping every time he pushed his head inside of her. "Holy shit, Max," she whimpered.

There was no feeling like this. Max was hitting spots she didn't know existed. With some more work from his expert fingers on her pussy she came, body shaking. Two orgasms and the new sensations Max was providing her with, it was all too much. She couldn't quite take it.

He suddenly pulled out, spilling his seed over her back. Gasping, Max fell down beside her. "You did so good for me, Schat," he whispered, leaning over to kiss her.

Her body twitched as Max chased his high. "All... most... there...

Mijn liefje," he grunted, his thrusts speeding up.

Max took a moment to catch his breath. As soon as he did he ran the too small hotel bath and carried her to it.

March 19th 2023, Saudi Arabia

Y/N watched, biting her nails. "C'mon," she whispered under her breath. "C'mon, Maxy." It was embarrassing, how excited she was for his next win. More importantly, how excited she was for the aftermath of his next win.

But Max didn't win, Sergio Perez won the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix. "Fuck," she hissed under her breath. Beside her, Jos Verstappen lost his mind. She didn't. She stayed calm, because she knew that was what Max was going to need.

After the podium, Y/N held Max close. "Well done, Maxy," she whispered, kissing him.

Max said nothing. He just held her close for a minute, his head pressed into her shoulder. But then he spoke up. "I know I didn't win, but..."

"No, Max. We said if you win, remember?"

"Next race. Your ass is mine."

[deathbecomesthem]

Basement Apartment - Part 1 of 2

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader - 4.8K

+18 ONLY - Minors DNI

Summary - It's 2001, and you've just moved into this new basement apartment. It's not so bad, except for the neighbor directly above your bedroom.

Contains a mean reader (kinda). Both parts have their smutty stuff, but part 2 will go a lot harder. Reader is bisexual. This is kind of an enemies to lovers deal. Sorta. Alcohol. Use of derogatory language against Eddie.

A/N: Thank you @jo-harrington for loving this story, and thank you for editing this at a moment's notice. Love you forever.

---

No. No. No. Not again. It’s 2:07 on Wednesday morning, and it’s happening again. You know it’s going to be at least an hour, probably longer, before it’s quiet enough for you to sleep. You know the routine at this point. Different partners, but the play-by-play appears to be the same. You could set your clock by it at this point. You don’t begrudge your neighbor his fun, lord knows you like having a good time, but fucking hell - can he remember he’s in a building with thin walls and neighbors that have to wake up early for work in the morning?

The anger’s been building inside since that first night. Tonight, you’re pushed over the limit. His stamina is impressive. The knock, knock, knocking of the headboard against the outer wall of both of your bedrooms is a familiar sound that alone wouldn’t keep you up. It’s the moaning, the occasional *SLAP* that makes your eyes pop open. An unpleasant surprise scream of, “Daddy!” sets your teeth on edge. You can hear his rhythm falter at the word, and it makes you huff a laugh under your breath. She won’t be coming back tomorrow night. Must not be his thing - you try hard not to think about why you care, and still make the mental note. It’s not your thing either. 

Your current thing is getting at least 6 consecutive hours of sleep when you have to wake up at 7:00 am and be able to function in the office. You’re absolutely done and ready to make a scene. It’s been almost a month in your new place, and it’s clear that Mr. Upstairs is not slowing down. Mary, your roomie, has been begging you to be cool, begging you to let it go, but her room isn’t directly beneath a fucking brothel. See, Mary has already met one of the guys in the apartment upstairs, and she’s smitten. “He’s tall, gorgeous green eyes, and his hair. Oh my god, his hair.” Oh, his hair, oh my god. Vomit. If you hear any more about this guy’s hair, you’re going to light it on fire. Plus, what if he’s the one that’s been fucking the entire city’s worth of girls right above your own bed? Mary refuses to believe it. 

Your clock reads 3:30 when the noises stop, and you’re able to sleep. Your alarm is set for 6:30, giving you plenty of time to get ready for work and still have time to hike up the stairs and meet the dickhead of a neighbor. You have no idea what you expect him to do about his noise issue, but you’re sure as hell going to give him a piece of your mind. He can get his rocks off in his living room as long as you don’t have to listen to him saying, “oh, fuck. Your pussy is so good, I’m gonna cum,” one more time. It’s the same script with every person he brings home. As you drift off, your brain scrolls through ideas - things you could do to make this man lose enough brain function to be able to form speech.

*BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP*

You shower. You brush your teeth. You fix your hair. You put on your (warpaint) makeup. You pour your coffee into a travel mug. You pack your briefcase. You feed the cat. You do all of your morning things while seething with anger. You make sure to keep it at the forefront of your mind. The fucking noises. You’re so tired, and your day hasn’t even started yet. You march your ass up the stairs in your heels and wool pencil skirt and knock. Loudly. You kept knocking. You aren’t leaving until you have some satisfaction. You check your watch. Shit. You start pounding.

You hear noises behind the door marked 2A, a grumbling. “Hold on!” An angry shout directed at the person pounding on the door. You. The door jerks open. Grey sweats, bare feet, bare chest, oh god the tattoos, long curly hair, and brown eyes. Not green. Not Mary’s guy. Mr. Brown Eyes is smiling at you, annoyance forgotten. “Good morning, Sweetheart. What can I help you with.”

Oh, no. It’s him. You scoff and frown. Your eyebrows are drawn together while you take in the sight of him in the new context. The grin spread across his full lips infuriates you, his charms are lost on you. Maybe it would work better if you weren’t currently surviving on less than 4 hours of sleep. You can feel heat creeping up your neck and down the line of your jaw. 

“Hi, yeah. So, I live downstairs. You can absolutely do me a favor.” You smile at him with teeth, and he thinks his charms are working on you. He’s so wrong. That cocky bullshit never works with you. He returns your wide grin with one of his own. “I’m hoping that in the future you could take a moment to remember the fact that you have a neighbor downstairs that can hear you fucking the night away and keep it down.” His smile fathers - you go in for the kill, “Or at least maybe up your game. I’m getting really fucking tired of hearing the same shit with every girl you bring home.” You drop your voice to imitate his, “Oh, fuck. Your pussy’s so good, I’m gonna cum.”

You take a quick look at your watch while the half naked man in front of you flounders. His chest and neck are flushed red by the time you turn on your heel and stomp towards the back door of the building. You’re going to be late, you add it to the list of reasons to hate that fucking guy. Selfish dick.

You turn back to push open the door and call back, “Thanks so much, Daddy.”

–

The office is quiet when you let yourself in, but it doesn’t fool you. The stack of papers you left Friday afternoon are still waiting for you after you drop your lunch in the fridge and sit down. On cue, the phone rings, and you’re still pulling out a pen and legal pad when you answer it. Fucking Mondays. Everyone needs something from you, and you provide. It’s what you do. You think some day you’ll wake up empty, but it hasn’t happened yet.

You bite back a yawn and take a scalding gulp of the coffee from your Garfield mug. You hiss a little and wonder if there are scars on your esophagus from the acid and burning liquid. The taste of the weak Maxwell House brew is a reminder to get to work. No time to worry about the possible deterioration of your body, you put a rubber thimble on your thumb and get to the stack of mail sitting expectantly on the edge of your desk. 

“Morning, Sunshine.” Mr. Misny comes through the door like a hurricane force wind, just like every morning. Even the smile he wears is meant to intimidate, but you know that and let it feed the anger inside. “What’s my morning look like?”

“Carrington and Hodges at 9:15,” you put your hand up to stop the protest you can see rising up your boss’s throat, “it was the only time they could both make it. You’ll have to eat your pastry while you talk about their case. I saved a couple of hours for brief writing before your early afternoon meetings.”

“Well, aren’t you a peach?” Mr. Misny’s comically expressive eyebrows shoot up and his lips curl with a smile that has an edge. “What would I do without you, hm?”

You’d hire someone else for less than they’re worth and condescendingly thank them while never actually respecting the hard work they perform.

“You’d probably be late for every meeting.” You answer coolly. You can’t help but add, “Checks speak louder than words, Tim.”

He laughs at your “joke” and heads into his office, shaking his head all the way. He won’t be laughing when you finally turn in your resignation letter, but that won’t be today. Today you need to do this job that pays measly wages so you can afford your shitty little apartment. Your shitty little apartment where you can only sleep a couple of nights a week because of the son of a bitch that lives upstairs.

But he’s gorgeous. You slam the stapler down on the stack of papers in front of you at the thought. He’s gorgeous, and it only makes you angrier to have that visual frame of reference when you hear his headboard knocking on your shared wall. 

—

The day passes in front of you, and it’s not until your wristwatch chirps to remind you that it’s 4:30 that you realize you forgot to eat your lunch. Again. The alarm seems to have awoken your stomach, it growls angrily while you shove half finished work items into the drawers at your side and power down your word processing machine. When you leave your desk, it’s in perfect order, all the clutter is hidden away.  Your inbox is empty, your outbox is half full, and your pens are all put away. You were able to spend several hours transcribing today, and your head was pounding from having to listen to your boss’s voice over the headset for so long. Your mood is, as it was this morning, on the very edge of quiet rage. Your car coughs to life, and you think it’s as annoyed as you are today. That seems appropriate.

The drive is easy and quiet, a small blessing, the icy patches on the road are covered with fresh salt that crunches under your tires. You can’t find it in yourself to be grateful for it, your mind too fogged over with hunger and exhaustion. You’re sleeping tonight, and it doesn’t matter if you have to knock your neighbor unconscious to achieve a quiet night. 

Your luck runs out when you find the lock to the front of your apartment building frozen, and you lose your balance. You curse your impractical footwear and march angrily, and cautiously, to the back entrance and let yourself in. FInally. You scowl at apartment 1 and make your way down to the darker hallway where the laundry room, and your apartment, are located. There’s a brown paper bag taped to the door just under the number 2. There’s a note attached. You pull it down to read while you fiddle with your keys to unlock the last door between you and your refrigerator.

Pretty Neighbor Lady,

I’m so sorry we got off on the wrong foot. Maybe these will help with our little problem. Consider it a gift. Stop by any time, I’d love to see you again.

-Eddie in apartment 2

You don’t even wait until you get inside the apartment before you tear open the bag to see what could possibly be hiding inside. A small cardboard box that contains - are you fucking kidding me - foam earplugs. The same kind your father used to wear when he worked at the warehouse. You write the name  “Eddie” at the top of your mental scorecard. “Eddie”, a real piece of work. 

—

Merciful silence. That’s the only way to describe the way the rest of the week goes. You don’t hear a sound from the man that lives above you. You almost wonder if he’s unwell, but you’ve caught sight of him in the parking lot a couple of times and he seems perfectly fine. You hadn’t expected it to work, but you’re glad you confronted him when you did. 

By the time Friday afternoon rolls around, you’re full of happy thoughts of napping with Henry, your orange tabby, before getting properly wasted and finding someone to pass the time with. It’s been too long, and you deserve this. 

Your apartment is dark when you get home, no Mary to be found. Henry has already assumed his nap position in your bed. You scratch behind his ear, and he chirps in response. Sweet boy. The shirt you want to wear out tonight, a red deep v-neck sweater, is on the top of your dirty laundry pile. It’s a sign, so you grab the basket and make your way across the hall to the laundry room. You can sleep once you start a load, you’ll thank yourself later. Last minute, you decide to throw in the outfit you’re wearing, and slip into a tank top and shorts. Ridiculous choice for this time of year, but the basement stays nice and warm - actually uncomfortably warm most of the time - laundry room included.

You’re relieved to find the washer and dryer silent. You count it as a small win until you open the washer and find it full of wet clothes. You’re tempted to throw the clothes onto the counter beside you, but decide against it. No need to make enemies, or any more enemies, in the building. Fine, asshole. I’ll dry your clothes. You’re lucky you have 2 rolls of quarters on you. 50 cents is worth keeping the peace.

What you find in the washer are - 2 pairs of black jeans, several black button ups, a couple of band t-shirts, black boxers, and grey sweatpants. You should have known that this is the kind person he is - leaving his wet boxers in a communal washing machine with no thought about the person that would have to stick their hands in to fish them out. With delicate fingers, you pull out each article of clothing with the tips of your fingers, and you fling them into the open dryer. You’re not aware of the audible grumbling coming from your mouth while you do the unpleasant task.

“Well, howdy neighbor! You’re an absolute sweetheart for switching my laundry for me.” The voice from the entryway makes you jump. You immediately straighten your back and ignore him. You ignore the steps you hear moving, sauntering, towards you, and keep focused on the job at hand. “You should stop by tonight,” he’s much closer now, his low voice and heavy presence at your back, “your roommate’s upstairs with Stevie right now. We could all get to know each other, all friendly neighbors.”

You slam the top of the washing down and spin to face him. He’s directly behind you, close enough to smell him. Cologne - Brut maybe? - cigarette smoke, and faintly of weed. He stands over you like a tower, but you don’t step back. You hold his gaze and wait. You, in your too short shorts and paint speckled tank top wearing an armor of barely suppressed rage. He breaks eye contact to look at you. You watch his eyes widen at the sight of the tattoos. His lips twitch when he sees the barbells poking through the thin fabric of your shirt. All of these things are so well hidden under the blazers and dress pants Monday through Friday.

“I would really like to take you out for a drink,” Eddie’s eyes are locked on yours again, only this time he seems to have shrunk down a little. He seems smaller than he did just a moment ago. It stirs a strange feeling in your stomach that you ignore.

“Thanks so much for the offer, neighbor, but I have plans tonight. Please, get your shit out of the dryer when it’s done. I’d hate for you to find it all over the concrete if you forget.” You push past him, heading towards your apartment door and hear him groan behind you.

“Come on, Sweetheart. You need to loosen up, get that stick out of your ass. I bet I could help with that.” 

You turn around and press your back against the metal door of your apartment and crook a finger at him. He’s so cocky, you’re thinking while the smile spreads across his lips and he makes his way closer to you, I’d love to bend him over my knee right here in this hallway.

“Come here.” You crook your finger at him. Eddie’s giving you a dopey smile as he sashays close, bringing his ear down closer to your mouth. He smells like shampoo and Irish Spring, clean with a hint of something - probably his skin - that makes you want to stick your tongue out and taste him. Instead, you rest your fingers at the base of his neck. You keep your tone soft, and put on the best sultry voice you can muster outside of a bedroom, “Don’t you worry about what’s up my ass, Sweetheart. I don’t let cocky little whores anywhere near it.”

Eddie is a statue. You’d think him made of stone if not for the quickening pulse you feel under your fingertips. You stand up on the balls of your feet to give yourself a couple extra inches, angling your mouth even closer to his ear, and whisper, “What about your ass, Baby?”

You give Eddie an exaggerated frown and push him away from you, moving the hand from his neck down to his chest. You leave him there, mouth open but no words coming from it, and slam your apartment door behind you. There’s a fire in your gut, and you need to remove yourself from the presence of that menace of a man before it begins to spread from under your skin and into the open.

You make a beeline straight for your bedroom. That fire continues to grow through your anger and irritation. How dare he? It’s not a thing you can control, the way your body reacts to the sight of him with those low slung grey sweatpants. The pretty curve of his lips. Those brown eyes. In your mind you can envision him here with you. His arms are stretched up high, wrists strung up to your headboard. He’s moaning at the sight of you with your little bullet vibrator placed firmly to ease your ache. 

Except, the noises you’re hearing are not in your mind at this moment, they’re drifting down that open vent. You bite your lip and press the vibrator harder at the realization. The taste of coppery blood hits your tongue, you can’t let him hear you. He doesn’t deserve it. You listen to him cry out in pleasure, pretty noises that push you right to the edge of your own cliff. A soft whimper is what causes you to stumble. Your release is a flood, and you have to turn your face to let your own cries die in the safety of your pillow.

He’s loud, even when he’s fucking his own fist, and you’re done for. You’re biting your lip so hard, not wanting him to hear you. He doesn’t deserve it. He needs to earn it. Your teeth clamped so hard you taste blood by the time the pleasure is done rippling through your body. He’s still moaning like a bitch, and you fall asleep to the sound, only waking when your watch alerts you that it’s time to switch your laundry.

The washroom light is on, and your laundry is already tumbling in the dryer. Your sweaters, bras, and underwear are spread along the table in the corner to air dry. There’s a note sitting on the dryer 1A written on the outside.

I hope this makes your life easier, 

Your cocky little whore,

Eddie

You close your eyes and imagine him holding your delicates in his hands, gently placing them flat to dry. This is bad, very bad.

—

Makeup first. Black eyeliner thick around your eyes, Mary always says it’s too much. She once introduced you as “her roommate that wears too much black eyeliner”,  but it makes you feel so sexy. A red lip. You fish around your jewelry box to find your favorite choker and the cute bat earrings that were a gift from an ex-boyfriend. It’s been too long since you were able to dress this way - the way you like. Sheer black pantyhose, black boots, black mini skirt, and a red deep v sweater.

You’re going out, even if Mary stays in with Mr. Green Eyes and Mr. Grey Sweatpants - Eddie.

You’ll find someone tonight, maybe you’ll even bring them back here. It’s fun to imagine Eddie in his bed listening to the sounds of you and someone else. You imagine him reaching a hand under the waistband of his sweats. You think of him with his mouth hanging open while trying to hold back the sounds that you know like to escape while he’s touching himself. You clear your throat and shake the image out of your mind.

It was yesterday evening that you realized the heating vent in your room must lead directly up to his own room. It’s the only explanation for how clearly you can hear him. You could make him jealous if you really wanted. Jealous of you or your hypothetical partner. Man, woman…it doesn’t matter, and he wasn’t the only one that knew how to make a woman scream, although you prefer when they listen and keep quiet. It’s rude to be too loud when you live in an apartment building. You dick.

You make a detour to 2A to give Mary a chance to come with you before you head downtown. The guy that answers the door is a little taller than Eddie and very pretty. He’s wearing a polo shirt and tight jeans, his hair is so stupidly gorgeous. His eyes bug out a bit when he sees you at his door but recovers with a friendly smile. “Hey, I’m your neighbor in 1A, I was looking for- oh there she is.”

Mary is sitting on the couch with a beer in her hand, and she gives you a wave. “I’m so sorry, I lost track of time. Don’t be mad!” You shake your head and point your finger at your roommate. “You owe me. I take it I’m flying solo tonight?” Her eyes are squinting and she’s giving you a pained smile.

“I would say you could stay and hang out with us, but you look like you’re ready for more of a party than I can offer.” The guy, Stevie, you remember Eddie calling him that, is giving you a genuine smile. You’re returning it with ease, because he really does seem like a nice guy. “Yeah, next time? Have fun you two.” You’re wearing your best smile so they know there’s no hard feelings and head out into the night.

The walk is chilly, but your building is only a half a mile from the bars downtown. It was one of the reasons you were willing to move into the shitty basement apartment. That and the easy access to the laundry room. Your purse has the essentials. Wallet, mace, lipstick, condoms, collapsible baton, and camels. Your keys sit on your hip attached to your wallet chain. You know there would be at least a couple of bars that had bands playing tonight. Musicians are reliably horny, even though most of the time you end up regretting letting them into your bed. 

The bright lights in the first bar, along with the house music, are an absolute no for you. You walk in, look around the room, and immediately head back out. The next bar has pool tables lined up in the back room. Lots of dudes turn to look at you when you enter, and you grip the handle of your purse. Leers sweeping from your hair to your boots. You smoothly turn and leave before anyone can talk to you. Bar number 3, however, is smokey and you can hear someone performing a mic check. A mix of leather clad men, women, and everything in between. The bartender has a flannel tied around her waist and an undercut. Winner.

“Hey sweetie, what can I get for you.” The bartender is very pretty up close, and openly scanning your chest. You’re giving her a wolfish grin and looking up to the ceiling with a finger on your lips, as if thinking hard.

“Oh, I think I’d like a double Jameson straight up.” You blink your eyes at her and she’s laughing at your antics while she gets your drink. “What can you tell me about the band tonight?”

“Metal. The guys play here pretty often. Corroded Coffin. The crowd is pretty fun, even if you’re not into the music.” Definitely not your typical scene, but you like this place, and you’re willing to let the music work magic on the crowd.

You’re reaching into your wallet for a card to hand over to start a tab. You’re thinking about suggesting the bartender keep you in mind at the end of the night, you’re sure she’d be up for passing some time with you, when you feel a familiar presence at your side.

“Jeannie, how are you tonight?” A hand is on your own, halting its movement. You know this voice. Are you kidding me? “Whatever this pretty lady wants is on our tab tonight, ok?” Jeannie’s eyebrows are high enough that they’re almost lost in her microbangs. She looks to you for confirmation, and you shake your head.

“She’s saying no, Ed.” Jeannie shrugs a little and accepts your card. “Shocking, I know.” She’s laughing at him a little, and you’re loving it. His eyes finally find your own, and he’s frowning. Sad puppy eyes. They sparkle. An effective weapon.

“Come on, you gotta give me something here. You’re killing me.”  Eddie sounds genuinely pained. Butterflies beat their wings in your gut at the thought of disappointing him. 

“Oh, Baby, I’m so sorry. I’m paying for myself tonight.” You place your hand on his neck and pull him close to your face while his eyes stay on your cherry red lips. “Think I might have a shot with Jeannie tonight?” 

His mouth lets out a little noise that you’d swear was a whimper. It’s then that the music changes from the metal that’s been blaring over the speakers to Peaches. Fuck the Pain Away. Jeannie is laughing behind the counter, she must have put the song on while you and Eddie were sparring. 

Eddie is glaring at you with eyes that are not shiny and sweet - they’re black pools. The grin creeping on his lips is sinister. He leans into your ear to make sure you can hear what he’s got to say over the thumping music. “Do me a favor, yeah? Bring Jeannie out on the dance floor when she’s on her break. I want to see you move.”

He’s gone now, and you knock back your drink. Of course, he’s heading to the stage just as Peaches is chanting for the crowd to fuck the pain away, and Jeannie is refilling your glass. “This one’s on me, Sugar. I like watching someone put Eddie in his place.” Yeah, well he just did a good job of keeping me sitting firmly on this stool, you don’t say. You can feel heat in your chest that’s creeping up your neck, a mix of embarrassment and lust hot on your skin.

And it’s no surprise to you that he is sex on fire on the stage. You fully understand it now. You see the fuller picture of him while he’s at center stage, everything else fades to black. All of the girls that he brings into his bed. His leather jacket is tossed to the side and he’s wearing a crop top sleeveless shirt. His fingers move on his guitar, a fucking Warlock, and your eyes are glued to him. When he starts to sing, you feel like you can’t breathe. You’re warm all over, and it’s not because of the crowd. No, it’s because he’s watching you watch him. You can’t stop yourself. It’s like you two are the only ones in this crowded bar, and he’s hypnotizing you.

You have no idea how long it’s been when Jeannie is coming around the bar to tell you her break is starting. You grab her hand and drag her to the floor. It’s in between songs, and you see Eddie yell back to the rest of the band. The next song is a major departure from the rest of the band’s set, and you know it’s for you, so you make it count. The guitar riff starts, and you circle around Jeannie eyes on Eddie. The drums start and you’re moving your hips to the rhythm. The crowd is moving as one and the energy is palpable. Jeannie is laughing, you made sure to whisper to her about the show you’re putting on for Eddie. You both dance together, your hands never leaving the bartender once during Thunderstruck. When the song ends, you see Eddie adjust his (very tight) jeans, and you leave the floor, dragging Jeannie out the back door and into the alley.

[writtenbymoonflower]

omg i have a request !!! i don't think our bb james is much of a fighter, but imagine if someone just say something about reader that just hits a nerve, and poor bb literally gives himself a panic attack, to a point where reader is just pushing him away and trying to get him to breathe with her :((( just reassuring him and giving him all the love in the world !!! ofc u don't have to if u don't wanna ily !!!

i love this! thank you so much hunny! James Potter x fem!reader

cw: mentions of drinking, pressuring someone to drink, ‘b word’ used as a derogatory term, swearing

735 words

Despite the bitter chill in the air, you felt clammy and cramped. The campfire radiating warmth into your face was pleasant, but the overcrowding of bodies sitting next to you wasn’t as much. You leaned onto James’ chest, snuggling closer when he put a long arm around your shivering shoulders. The night was winding down from Sirius’ party, only a few people remained, all sharing the leftover drinks around the fire. The small amount of alcohol you had drank that night was sitting in your stomach like a brick and you couldn’t wait to get home and sleep it off. Your eyes were just drifting closed when they snapped wide open, a cold bottle pressed against painfully your bare shoulder. 

You looked up to see the person next to you trying to hand off a beer bottle to you. He was looking at you nicely enough, but you still declined. 

“I’m okay, thank you though.” You gave him a polite smile before turning back to James, who you could tell was reigning in his overprotectiveness. 

“C’mon, girly. One won’t hurt.” He pressed the bottle closer. “You’re not even buzzed, I can tell.” 

You stayed friendly but your tone was firmer. “I promise I’m fine. I’m sure someone else wants another though.” You cut your eyes to Remus and Sirius and their pile of empty beer and cider bottles next to them, laying scattered like an army fallen. 

“You sure?” The man sing-songed, pressing the cold bottle to your neck, wet with condensation. You flinched away. 

“Mate, pack it in. She said she didn’t want any.” James pulled you closer protectively. He wasn’t necessarily harsh, but the lack of joviality in his tone was chilling for those who know him well. The man took on a defensive nature, but was still attempting to appease James. 

“I’m doing this for you man.” He waggled his brows at James knowingly. “I’m sure she’s loads more fun loosened up.” You felt James stiffen but he didn’t have a chance to respond before the man looked at you, half joking, half irritation. “C’mon stop being such a frigid bitch and have a drink.” 

James shot up, swiftly moving so that he was between you and the man. “What the fuck did you just say?” The guy was floundering, backpedaling fast. 

“I’m just playing! Didn’t think you would be upset, shit.” He scooted away from your seething boyfriend. 

“You didn’t think I would be upset that you called my girlfriend a- that word? Are you really that fucking thick?” James snapped. He got closer to the guy's face before you tugged his hand. 

“James, calm down, it’s okay.” You stood up to gently tug him away. 

“Yeah, man. Listen to your bird-” He started, but then James snapped his head back, eyes ablaze. 

“McLaggen, mate, just leave.” Sirius said, harshly. 

“What? Sirius, c’mon. It’s a jo-” He stood up. Remus marched over, helping him to get his stuff. 

“Well it wasn’t fucking funny. You don’t say that shit here.” Remus said coldly. Their chatter moved away as he marched the offending man away from the fire. James looked like he was going to yell something after him, but he stopped. 

“It’s okay, Jamie.” You soothed, pulling him away as well. 

“It’s not.” He reiterated. “I can’t belie- I’m so sorry angel. Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” He hugged you tight. 

“I’m okay, he didn’t. You don’t need to be sorry. It was just a stupid guy, not nearly the worst I’ve encountered.” You laughed.

“That does not make it better.” He huffed like an angry puppy. “I can’t believe some people think that’s an okay thing to call a girl. My mam would’ve had my head if I ever said that.” 

“Not everyone is as amazing as you, honey. And a lot of people are worse than that guy.” You rubbed a hand up and down his tense arm. 

He at you wide-eyed. “Okay, well firstly, someone isn't 'amazing' for not being an asshole, that's just not being horrendous. And secondly.” He was half concern half immense confusion. “Who all has been like that to you? How many lads have been like him? I want names and dates, lovely.” 

“James,” You lovingly scoffed. “I love you. I love how protective you are of me, but I really am okay. Some people are just dickheads, it’s part of life.” 

He grunted, pulling you back into his arms. “Just because it's a part of life doesn’t mean I have to like it.” He kissed the top of your head firmly. “I love you too.” 

“Do you want to go back?” You asked softly, rubbing the thick curls at the base of his neck.

“Can we stay like this for a bit longer? I just- need to hold onto you.” His biceps strained around you from how tightly you were being held.

You nuzzled into his neck, breathing in his comforting scent. “Okay.”

[trashmouth-richie]

eddie x fem!reader. [vol i] [vol ii]

summary: Eddie’s shenanigans continue, a heavy conversation leads to revealing factors of how Eddie and reader know eachother.

tw: no minors, mentions of drug use/ abuse, death etc. heavy heavy flirting (eddie) eventual smut

wc: 6.4k

a/n: we made it! Another week another volume to our disgusting eddie series. I’m still blown away by the likes, reblogs, and comments this series is receiving— thank you all so much I appreciate it.

s/o: @pinkrelish @sweetsweetjellybean @jo-harrington + @agentmarvel for helping me bring this fic to life! whether that’s beta reading, me bouncing ideas from to you or just talking me through the pacing- I love you all, this fic would be dog shit without you 🤍♥️💋

/

/

You wake to the buzzing of your alarm, your hand reaching through the dark across your night stand, slamming down hard on the smooth cold snooze button, but it doesn’t stop.

You hit it again.

Nothing.

The beeps get louder. Your eyelids open a sliver to reveal the numbers 3:42 in red on your alarm clock.

Your alarm usually doesn’t go off until 6, and it’s Sunday so it was never set.

Fuck.

You fly out of bed, disregarding the fact that you weren’t wearing a bra, and open the door. A light haze of smoke fills the hallway, white and dreamy, almost pretty like smoke on the water after it rains.

The smoke detector in the kitchen is alarming, letting you know that the potential of a fire is a great possibility with its ominous beeping. You spring into action, throwing open the kitchen window above the sink.

Where is it coming from?

At first you think it’s from the oven, maybe Eddie left a frozen pizza in too long. The older oven was fussy anyway, burning things one day and the next taking forever to heat up to 375° to make a batch of cookies. But the oven was cold, the smoke seemed to be coming from the living room, a quick glance shows you exactly what was going on.

The couch was on fire.

-

The hum of the vacuum and the clinking swirl of jagged edges of chips and popcorn kernels sucking up through the cylinders into the bag invade the small living room. It took Eddie almost an hour to find where you kept the cleaning supplies. Turns out the smaller door across from the basement was a closet, housed with everything you’d need to clean a home.

Each item was stacked neatly, brooms and a floppy white mop hung on hooks, the vacuum tucked into the corner. The top shelf had bleach, and a green can labeled ‘comet’ that looked like it could be mistaken for Parmesan cheese. Judging by the bottle with blue liquid and a window on it, called Windex, Eddie figured that probably wasn’t for spills on counters. He settled for a bottle of 409 and a roll of paper towels. Grabbing the vacuum with him.

After vacuuming the living room and wiping up the spills in the kitchen, he sits down. A lit joint between his lips, contemplating on what the actual fuck happened tonight. He couldn’t believe your bitchy attitude or the way your lip trembled after he called you out.

You weren’t the girl he used to know. You had changed, grown into a bitter woman, hating everyone and everything.

He falls into a dreamless sleep. Waking later to stumble into the bathroom to take a poorly aimed piss in the dark and falling face first into his mattress.

-

You grab the first thing you can think of to extinguish the flames ablaze on the couch. Where the hell is Eddie? What the fuck happened!? Filling a popcorn bowl with water that doubled as a puke bucket when you were sick with the flu back in March, you run back to the couch throwing the water on the flames. For good measure you refill the bucket and douse the couch again— putting the flames out, leaving a soaked charred couch that once was a staple in the Wheeler basement for the better half of a decade.

To say you are enraged would be the understatement of the year, possibly the century. You didn’t have much to your name— not anymore, he had made sure of that. But this!? You open all the windows, letting the dewy air of an early summer morning seep through the house, a slight breeze moving the thin curtains.

You weren’t a great physics student but you are almost certain that a couch wouldn’t suddenly combust into flames no matter how old it is. A red plastic lighter on the coffee table confirmed your suspicions.

You don’t waste time trying to wake him up by yelling, you fill the bowl of water immediately and charge into his room. It was as if you put the fire out but the flames were still burning inside of you, you were fucking irate with Eddie. Hate bubbling inside of you as you stomped into his room, water sloshing all over the carpet and onto your socked feet.

He’s laying on his stomach, a loud snore rippling through his body, the last bit of calm before the ice cold water hits his bare back. Soaking his bed in return.

A loud screeching gasp leaves his dry mouth, cottonmouth having his tongue feel like sandpaper on a sidewalk.

He turns over to face you, annoyed and confused at what the hell was going on.

“Y’know,” he says, standing abruptly from his mattress and shivering when the fan oscillates onto his freezing back, “there are more humane ways to wake someone,” he takes a deep breath through his nose, inhaling the smoke and the burnt fibers of the couch, “smells like you burnt breakfast so how may I help you at this ungodly hour?”

“You son of a bitch,” you seethe, “I swear to everything holy and your satan worshiping ass that I’m going to kill you!”

Eddie doesn’t bat an eye, “ooh baby, are we role playing right now? Shit I’m not prepared, gimme a minute.” He stuffs his hand into the front of his boxers making a jerking motion.

“Jesus Christ! I didn’t come in here to fuck you! Have you seen the living room?!”

“So hostile in the morning—“ he says rubbing his eyes, letting a yawn escape his slack mouth, “why what the fuck are you accusing me of now? I cleaned up my mess so if we’re not fuckin’ I’m going back to b— “ you drag him by the arm to the living room. Unable to speak. Unable to breathe properly through the lingering smoke.

His eyes land on the charred mass of the couch. Panic settled on his face for a brief moment before he discarded it for humor. “Damn Tooty, if you wanted a new couch you could have just asked,” he says, letting out a yawn, and stretching his arms out.

He cringes at the way his full name falls from your lips. The spinning rage of fury throwing yourself into a hissy fit.

“I can’t fucking believe you! How goddamn high were you to not realize the couch was on fire before you passed out?”

“Oh fucking relax, it was an accident!”

“Accident? Spilling milk on the counter is an accident. Knocking over the shampoo bottles in the shower is an accident. This.” You say seconds away from full on losing your mind, “is arson, destruction of personal property, a credible offen—“

“Credible offense? Didn’t know you joined the police force, officer Tooty..”

“Eddie!”

“… you probably have those swat grade handcuffs, the ones that won’t break when your wrists are bound to my bedpost, shit I’m hard just thinking about it.”

It takes everything in you not to look down, not to see the way he’s swelled up in his boxer briefs. Not to see the stretch of the fabric or the outline of his length.

You let out a frustrated groan, dragging your hands down your face. “God you are so fucking infuriating! You really moved in here and just thought you could do whatever the fuck you wanted because you’re Eddie the freak Munson huh? Twenty-six and still pretending that rules and doing shit in a normal way don’t apply to you.”

You think back to how he was in high school, ranting and raving on the cafeteria tables or giving a presentation about how Dungeons and Dragons was in fact not a cult when the assignment was supposed to be on the Holocaust.

He did whatever the fuck he wanted, when he wanted, and how he wanted to do it. He didn’t give a fuck about anyone but himself. Never did, never would.

“I fucking hate you,” you spit, “you’re a filthy bastard and I hope you rot in hell.”

He’s heard it all before, so it’s not a surprise when your words turn sour, trying to break him down. But he won’t stand for it.

“Oh baby,” he tuts, twirling a strand of your hair between his fingers, “you think you’re the only person to ever hate me?”

He crosses his arms and leans forward, inching towards your face, “if you wanna compete with the big dogs, you better get in line. Heard they sell tickets at the high school for the ‘we hate Eddie Munson fan club’.”

He chuckles at the idea of the whole town hating him, small minded inbred losers, clutching to their cross necklaces whenever he walked past them.

“Probably more fans there than Corroded Coffin has right?” You provoke, eyes raised and a smirk twisting your lips.

“That attitude of yours…” his words are lost when he looks at your lips, he shakes his head and sucks his bottom lip between his teeth. His eyes scan over your body. Tiny little tank top with one of the straps hanging off your shoulder. Your baby blue pajama pants low on your hips, no panty line suggesting you’re commando under them, “Fuck.” He breathes mostly to himself.

“Listen, I’ll replace the couch, but you seriously need to get a fucking grip and relax, you’re gonna have a brain aneurism if you keep this shit up.”

Only Eddie could turn a disaster of almost starting your house on fire to a joke about you being crazy and him getting horny in return. It had to be a talent to be so aloof from reality. So unphased by shit happening around him. Just placing a bandaid on things hoping they would work out.

But for you, it never came that easy.

-

You decide the only reasonable thing to do was to move the couch to the garage and try to rid the house of the lingering smoke smell. Thankfully the carpet and the coffee table were fine, but the couch was obviously a total loss. Eddie was surprisingly strong, maneuvering the couch almost by himself all the way to the garage, with your help of opening the doors. The way his muscles worked in his back as he lifted the couch and pulled it through the threshold made your stomach flutter. And you were pissed at the thought of it.

“Get some sleep,” Eddie ordered, after you got back into the house, yawning loudly and rubbing your eyes, “we can figure this shit out later.”

Normally you would have argued with him about not telling you what to do but you were exhausted. You climb back into your bed, and fall asleep quick. Dreaming of your entire house on fire and Eddie standing outside, pissing on the flames.

-

“What about this one?” Eddie asks, laying on a large brown sofa, sinking into the cushions like he’s submerged into quicksand.

He woke up around 9 AM, barging into your room, blaring Judas Priest and singing Love Bites at the top of his lungs. Scaring the absolute shit out of you and having you reach for the nailed bat Steve had given you after Nancy had moved out.

“Let’s roll butthole,” Eddie laughed as he sat on your bed, munching on a piece of toast, “ooh, and maybe skip the bra like you did this morning, that was so fucking hot.”

Jesus Christ.

“Get out,” you hiss, covering your chest with your blanket.

Eddie stands up and jumps on your bed pouting, “seriously you’re so boring, let them titties out and come jump with me.”

“I swear you get more immature by the minute. Now get the fuck out before you break my bed.”

“You wish I’d break your bed, oh my god!” He stops jumping immediately, “Tooty! Am I the first guy to be in here?”

You get up immediately, wrapping your throw blanket around you and grabbing Eddie by his foot trying like hell to yank him off your bed.

“Ow, stop you’re hurting me,” he jokes in a mocking, deadpan voice.

You’re slapping him anywhere you can reach him, throwing your pillows at his head, anything to get the perv out from your sheets. He’s laughing rolling around on your bed, moaning your name loudly.

“Eddie Munson I swear, I’ll slash the tires on that shit box van of yours out there if you don’t get out of my room!”

“Oooh, felony charges? Goddamn you’re gonna make daddy cum.”

You grab your clothes from the closet and retreat to the bathroom. Huffing and stomping the whole way, slamming your door so hard the windows in your room rattle.

-

You’ve been looking around the Big Boy’s furniture mart for at least three hours. Eddie insisted on trying every single couch they had. And you weren’t talking about just laying on them or testing their firmness.

“Hey, can you lay down and I’ll get on top so I can see how it feels? I need to make sure I can reach the right angles if ya catch my drift,” he says with a shit eating grin and a wink. “Or better yet, I’ll sit and you get on top, gotta make sure the ladies knees are comfy too ya know?”

You swat at his arms, “you’re such a fucking pig, Munson.”

“With a fat—“ interrupted by the sales clerk asking if everything was okay, you smile awkwardly and sit down next to Eddie, testing the enormous brown couch, “wallet.” He finishes, a smile on his lips as you roll your eyes.

“This one is good, c’mon sit down and try it out.” He purrs, wiggling his eyebrows.

You’re standing beside him clutching your purse, his long legs are bent at the knee and spread out wide. Arms on the back of the couch, claiming his space, spread like a king.

“No,” you complain, “If you like it, get it, I’m tired and I just want to go home.”

“Why? The Virgin Mary got a big date or something?” he says, with a mean laugh.

He’s such an asshole. If you weren’t playing his little games he’d turn into such a fucker.

“Jealous?” you say, invading his space, voice dipped low, tracing circles on his denim knees.

His breath hitches in his chest at your light touch, but you don’t stop there. Sauntering up to the sales counter you work your magic.

With a little flirting and the perfect placement of your arm under your heaving chest while leaning over the counter, chewing on your pen and running it down your neck and into the slit of the one too many unbuttoned buttons on your blouse with the dorky sales manager sporting a receding comb over, you get free same day delivery, even on a Sunday.

Impressed, and shocked Eddie asks, “Now how did you manage that one Tooty?” he asks his head dipped by your ear as you walk towards the door, “thought you were the head nun at Saint No Fun.”

You lick your lips, laying the charm on thick, “Think you’re the only one who can flirt and make someone uncomfortable?” You ask, looking up at him and batting your lashes.

Wrong.

That was the wrong thing to say to him. And you walked right into it.

A smug smile spreads against his lips, accompanied with lowered eyebrows and a deep groan to his voice, intruding on your personal space, “so you admit that I make you uncomfortable?”

Your cheeks heat and you slither away from him, buttoning your shirt higher and mumbling about how disgusting he is while walking fast out of the store and making your way to Eddie’s van, your sandals clicking on the asphalt.

Walking through the door to outside feeling the sun beat down on his curly mess of hair, he can’t help but laugh at you storming away.

“Don’t run from your feelings, sweetheart,” Eddie calls from the parking lot, “I’m a give— oh relax bitch I’m not talking to you!” He yells to a woman ushering her two children inside the store as she glares back at him, frightened when he places the infamous devil horns on his head and flicks his sinful tongue out.

He climbs back into the van, laughing maniacally and blaring Metallica’s Wherever I May Roam. He looks over and sees you shrunken down in the seats, covering your head with your arms trying to make yourself as small as possible. Avoiding being seen with him with all your might.

“At some point in time princess, you’re gonna have to give up this facade that you’re some high and mighty broad.”

“I don’t think that—“ you say sitting up right and forcing the heat from your cheeks, “I just don’t want to be seen with you in public anymore than I have too, plus I really think seeing you humping the furniture burned a hole in my brain.”

“It was quite a sight wasn’t it, wait until you experience it first hand— you’ll have to go to church begging for forgiveness.” he finished with a whisper.

You roll your eyes, disgusted with his constant perverted mind spewing sexual comments.

“Do you ever, just— I don’t know, have a normal conversation that isn’t based around your penis and all the things you’d fuck if given the opportunity?”

He scoffs, rolling his eyes, turning down his music, “When did you get so boring? I swore you were never like this when I knew you. Eyeball’s little sister. Thee Tooty. Meanest girl in her grade. Stealing cigarettes from the gas station. Sneaking out at night to catch a ride with the freak to the nearest party, you were cool back then. Now you’ve joined the fucking convent in virgin town capital of Lame-ville, USA.”

You had forgotten about Kev’s nickname, Eyeball. Eddie had made it up after he had gotten a fishing hook through his eyelid back in their sophomore year. Eddie was at your house almost all the time, him and your brother were as thick as thieves, and sometimes they were just that. He always invited you along, telling Kev it was alright. After he had graduated in ‘85 and Eddie stayed behind, Eddie became your outlet, bringing you and his hellfire idiots, your own classmates, to parties because you didn’t have a car. Swearing to Reefer Rick, that you little goons were cool. ‘Specially Tooty’ he’d say, announcing that you were Eyeball’s sister with a toothy grin.

Seems like such a long time ago that you were all just stupid kids, living for the weekend and a shared bottle of strawberry hill Boones Farm on the way to a party, now half of you were in serious relationships, or college. But you were still here in Hawkins, cutting the hair of the rich while you could barely balance your mortgage and utilities.

People like you and Eddie never got out of small towns. Live, breathe, die.

The end.

No happy endings.

“I’m not a nun, you inconsiderate prick,” you yell at him, “I just don’t think fart jokes, or shitting with the door open and belching contests are funny.”

Eddie pulls his eyebrows together annoyance splattered on his face, “yeah, I’m pretty inconsiderate, just dropped hundreds of dollars to get princess Tooty a new couch, how fucking dare I?”

“You’re the one that burned the other one down!” You holler back at him, losing any shred of self-control you have left, “ I wouldn’t have asked you to do that and you’re the one who volunteered to buy it in the first place!”

“Well, you didn’t really give me a choice standing there with those sad fucking eyes acting like I just fucked your sister and shot your parents in the face.” He sneers back, nostrils flared, driving like a bat out of hell through Hawkins.

You’re pouting, crossing your arms and huffing loudly as he continues.

“I swear to God there’s not a single fucking thing that I can do right for you Tooty,” he snaps, knuckles tight against the steering wheel. “It doesn’t matter what it is what I will, or won’t do you just have it in your head that I’m the worst fucking person in the world.”

You sit there stunned, face crumbled into anger as you stew pissed off beyond belief at his bullshit remarks. He pulls into the driveway, stomping on the brakes and having you lurch forward as he throws the van in park.

He turns to face you. A ringed finger pointing in your face as he gets closer.

“Like I said earlier, sweetheart, you want to hate me? Get in fuckin’ line, this whole goddamn town hates me and I don’t give a fat rat’s ass what anybody thinks of me, especially a stuck up brat like you.”

You’re both breathing heavy, the tension between you both thicker than oatmeal. You can feel his breath on your face, your cheeks are heated and his are tinged pink. His eyes dip down to your lips for a split second before he shakes his head. He jumps out slamming the door hard with a loud thud, stomping his way through the garage.

-

You mull over your emotions, here you were again, but this time you got the best of him.

Eddie: 1

Tooty: 1

In all the years of knowing Eddie, you’ve never seen him that pissed off. Sure he got worked up about stupid society norms in school but this was different. He was pissed, yelling in your face in the van.

You were never afraid of him, the whole town might be but you had no reason to be. Not from a guy with split ends and in serious need of a deep conditioner. He was just as stubborn as you were. Refusing to bend.

-

The couch was delivered in record time, your tits really putting the delivery boys to the test when they said you were their only delivery for the day, marked mandatory.

When Eddie arrived from the doorway of his bedroom, arms above his head hanging onto the frame, a cigarette hung between his lips, he was still mad but truly astonished at their arrival only twenty minutes after you had gotten home.

He flops on the couch as soon as they leave, the delivery idiots still drooling over you working up the courage to ask for your number until Eddie made a sadistic comment about getting the cat out of the freezer for the ritual sacrifice had them running back out to the truck, whispering Hail Mary’s and making the sign of the cross as they ran.

“Fuck,” he exhales, kicking off his boots and putting his stinky socks on one arm, his head on the other unzipping his jeans, and slotting a ringed hand down the front of them, Al Bundy style, “can’t wait to break this thing in, need’ta christen the whole house yet too.”

Oh for fucks sake.

“Were you this nasty while you lived with your uncle?”

He closes his eyes as he answers you, snuggling his head and hips into the cushions, a leg thrown up on the back. “He works nights, but my neighbors knew that when the trailer was rockin’, don’t come knockin’.”

You scoff, “I just have a hard time believing that anyone would willingly want to fuck you.”

“Well believe it baby, they don’t just call me ‘the freak’ because I’m into metal and have long hair,” he says, opening his eyes for your reaction as he grabs his dick through his jeans at the base and wiggles the length around.

Your stomach burns as you walk away, half disgusted at him for being so crude, and more disgusted with yourself for looking.

-

The only way you can combat the lingering heat of turmoil in your stomach is by keeping your hands and your mind busy. You change your clothes into some cotton pajama shorts, the old ratty Garfield slippers you’ve had since the 8th grade, and a baggy shirt with the Marlboro logo on the breast pocket and printed fully on the back. You start with baking a loaf of banana bread, the same recipe Karen Wheeler passed down to Nancy, and Nancy passed down to you.

You begin to whisk together the flour, baking soda, salt and cinnamon. A sense of calm takes over your body as you remember the days of having Nancy as a roommate. A vast difference to the hellion who’s snoring on the couch right now. Your mind wanders, questioning why the tension between the two of you in the van could have been cut with a knife.

You despised him, the thought of him making your stomach churn like curdled milk. He was skating on thin ice and if you were stronger, you’d have kicked his ass out by now. But Eddie was right about a few things. After Kev left for college it was just you at home, but Eddie stayed around. Watching out for you at parties, threatening to kick anyone’s ass who got too close to you.

You mash the bananas and set them aside, using the handheld mixer you had been gifted to beat together the butter and brown sugar. The light pales of yellow swirling with the chestnut granules of the brown sugar.

You remembered how he was dating Chrissy during his senior year. How Chrissy, yourself, Eddie and Chad would go bowling on Sundays after brunch at the Cunningham’s or how sometimes Chrissy would drive the three of you to go to Eddie’s shows at the hideout, sweet talking her way to the owner so you could all support him. How messed up he had been after she broke up with him. To this day you don't know the reason. You wondered if he knew what happened between you and Chad.

You add the dry ingredients to the wet ones. Adding the eggs one at a time, the soft plump yolks slipping free from the shells and landing gently on the forming mixture.

So many things had gone unsaid. Different aspects of life taking you both in opposite directions but now suddenly back again, but under very diverse circumstances.

The banana bread mixture is scraped into a loaf pan, and tossed into the oven, the timer set to sixty minutes.

You had to admit that having Eddie around gave you a small inkling of comfort. Almost as if you weren’t alone. Something you hadn’t felt in years.

You really must be crazy. Eddie Munson giving you comfort? What kind of dream land were you living in. Clearly the banana bread hasn’t given you any sort of calm, better make muffins next.

-

Later that night you’re lining pasta noodles in a baking dish, layering them with ground beef sautéed with an onion and pasta sauce, and ricotta, mozzarella and Parmesan cheese. The small kitchen smelling delicious, and the counters full of chocolate chip muffins and the banana bread you had made.

Turns out there’s a lot you can get done in the 5 hours Eddie has been passed out on the couch. Turtle waxing the bathroom floors, scrubbing the baseboards in the living room, reorganizing the fridge and wiping everything down.

He’s still sprawled out on the new couch, his long hair wrapped around his face, soft snores whirling through his nose.

Another hour later and supper is done, you’re standing at the stove cutting short horizontal lines through the lasagna opposite of the way the noodles are laid, when Eddie comes up behind you, warm crumbles of muffin between his lips as he whispers, “shit Tooty, did’ya take home-ec? This is delicious.” You jump almost ten feet high, shrieking and cutting a horrible diagonal line through the lasagna.

“.. I failed ya know.”

“High school?” You answer after catching your breath, “Eddie, everyone in the Tri state area knows that.”

“Nah,” he mumbles through another bite, more crumbs falling from his mouth, “well I mean yeah, but home-ec. That’s why I didn’t graduate on time.”

You soon around with an incredulous look on your face, “how the fuck do you fail home-ec not once, but twice?”

He leans his long frame against the counter, hip jutting up against it as he crosses his legs at his ankles, you note that his pants are still undone.

“Well chef,” Eddie starts, licking his fingers clean from the ooey chocolate that melted onto them, “I kept burning everything. I couldn’t even get the eggs to boil right. I burnt the sleeve of Jason Carver’s letterman jacket while trying to make crème brûlée,” He says with a laugh. “That might have been on purpose, after he stiffed me for over 3 oz and two full bags of pre rolls.”

You chuckle, “not a loss there, that douche probably deserved it.”

Jason Carver would remain in Hawkins to run his dad’s business. Last time you had seen him he was at the salon, flirting with you while you trimmed his hair. Still a douche.

“Ah, he was just mad I stole his girlfriend,” he says with a little sigh, referring to Chrissy, “High school, what a blast!”

“All six years?” You ask with a raised eyebrow, your teeth biting down hard into your lower lip to hide your laugh.

Pushing himself off the counter and stealing another muffin he leaves the kitchen with a grin and yells over his shoulder, “piss off.”

-

Eddie’s on his third plate of “flat noodle pasta thing” or to anyone living on the planet for more than three years would call it, lasagna, and your homemade garlic bread chewed up between his teeth.

“Christ,” he exaggerates with a sigh, “I feel like this is my last meal on death row or some shit.” He smacks his lips and licks his fingers like a primate. Moaning with each swipe of his tongue like a porn star with a huge bush in the 70’s.

“Did you just compliment me on something other than my body or insinuating that you want to fuck me?” You say with a false shock, “I’m honored.”

“Yup, write it down in your little diary, ‘Eddie Munson said something genuine to me, made me feel pretty, maybe I will stop being mean and let him see my titties xoxo’.”

“…and we’re back to your regularly scheduled programming.” You announce in a monotone voice, pushing your lasagna around with your fork and taking a bite of the garlic bread.

Eddie turns his head and looks over at you confused on how this nice little night— not arguing, for once, eating the best thing he’s had in his mouth bedsides the pussy that was in it last weekend, could turn into you silently stewing, mulling something over that he had zero idea on how to understand.

“So— what ever happened to Eyeball anyway? Should I go ahead and assume he’s buried in a shallow grave somewhere?” Eddie asks, taking another mouthful of lasagna, “seriously, I haven’t seen or heard from him since he graduated and left this shithole town.”

You take a deep breath and let out a sigh, you couldn’t hide this from him, not when he’s here in your house, on the couch he just bought since he burned down the other one.

If you were going to tell him, there was no better time than right now. You take a sip from your Fresca and set your plate down on the coffee table.

“Kev went to the east coast. Full academic scholarship to John Hopkins.” You say curling your knees up to your chin, facing Eddie.

“Yeah, I think he mentioned that— I bet your parents were proud,” Eddie says, eyebrows raised, fingers hanging loosely over his knees, the last remnants of the garlic bread in one hand.

“Of course they were, he’s the golden boy, Mr. Perfect. He could do no wrong in their eyes.”

You weren’t just being a jaded little sister, it was the truth. Your parents favored him over you. Once it was let on that he was smarter than most kids his age, and a certain level of genius— that was it for you, you were casted aside like a wet paper towel, tossed to the heaping flow of garbage. Their whole life revolved around him.

“So what happened?” Eddie pressed, setting his plate down and twisting the rings around his fingers.

“Well, he went to college in August of ‘85 and at first was excelling in all of his classes, as if he were to ever do anything else. If you ask my parents, what happened next was out of character for him, and he was coerced into it, the wrong place at the wrong time kind of a deal, but you know how he was. He had a wild side to him.”

Kev was wild indeed. He was the one who convinced Eddie to borrow Wayne’s truck at thirteen and take it driving through Hawkins on a joyride to the gas station that led to all of the mailboxes in Forest Hills to be backed over and almost a gas pump. A smirk forms on Eddie’s face as you continue.

“I always thought it was his way of escaping— trying to be normal. Anyway— he made friends with some guys who were kinda like the Hellfire guys at home. Ya know nerds, who need haircuts.” A small laugh escapes from your lips.

“Easy, now.” Eddie jokes, shaking his mane, “This takes time and patience, ain’t built for the weak.”

You roll your eyes and keep going, “one of them was involved with dealing but it wasn’t just joints and half ounces like you did in high school. This was crack, and heroin.”

Rubbing your eyes with the heel of your palms, dreading this more than Eddie could ever know. “He started using—heavily. One thing led to another and he was eventually kicked out of school, turns out you actually have to show up to class and get good grades to keep an academic scholarship.”

“My parents tried to get him to move home, go to rehab, but he refused. He moved into a house with some other “friends” if you would even call them that.” You take another shaky breath, voice wobbly as you continue, “w-we aren’t exactly sure what happened— all we know is that he was driving down a one way, going double over the legal speed limit and he struck a woman— in broad daylight, killing her instantly.”

Pain is evident in your face as Eddie stares into your eyes, leaning forward on the couch, the venom of his words from last night and earlier this afternoon twisting like a knife in his chest. “Holy fuck.”

“He had been tripping out on whatever it was he was snorting, or smoking—I have no idea, for days, according to him, and he doesn’t remember anything. The woman was from a very well off family in Maryland— so they went for murder instead of vehicular manslaughter— and won. There were two other people in the car with him… they were both killed on impact. He’s currently known as inmate #90045, serving a life sentence and a sling of other charges in Roxbury Correctional in Hagerstown.”

Eddie’s eyes go wide at the thought of Kev in an orange jumpsuit, face behind bars. The fingers he was spinning his rings with stops, mouth agape.

You pinch your eyes shut and throw your head back, avoiding Eddie’s eyes. “My parents sold the house the following year and moved out there to be closer to the golden son, still to this day refusing he did anything wrong, blaming it all on anyone but him.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie breathes, shocked, “I can’t fuckin— wow.”

“Yeah,” you say, bringing your head forward, dipping into your chest. Sniffling quietly and rubbing your nose.

Eddie is dumbfounded by your admission. He thought for sure that maybe Kev was married and had kids so your parents went to help them out to be supportive grandparents. He would have never guessed that he was in prison doing hard time with a heroin addiction. And he certainly can’t believe that they left you here like discarded mail.

“But you stayed in Hawkins? By yourself, this whole time?” he says in disbelief. Outer corners of his eyes turning downward as his face frowns.

He feels like shit, he had been here the whole time in Hawkins and he didn’t have a clue that you were alone.

Shaking your head you answer slowly, shame on your lips. “The Wheeler’s ended up taking me in.”

“Tooty,” Eddie rubs his hand across his face, stubble catching on calluses as he thinks about the times he saw you at school. “Fuck man, why didn’t you say anything? Jesus, why didn’t any of them mention it?”

“I told them that if they told anyone I’d shave their heads,” you say proudly. A sense of pride present across your face, as you hold your head high.

This explains a lot, why you were bitter and downright miserable. He couldn’t believe this shit, how your family just left you, discarding you like you weren’t their only daughter. You were dealt a shitty hand, and all you had left to protect yourself was you. Eddie knew all too well how that felt.

His eyes are full of concern, wet with tears as he realizes how lonely you must have been.

“By the way,” you say, stretching your leg out and nudging him with the toe of your slipper, “that head shaving thing, goes for you too Munson.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart. ” Eddie said, throwing his hands up in innocence. “I wouldn’t risk losing these curls over that, the ladies love this.”

-

Later that night Eddie laid in bed. Still completely blown away by the fate of his old friend. Not only that but what happened to you as well. When his dad went to prison, he had Wayne but you? You didn’t have anyone. Moving in with the Wheeler’s like you were a charity case, an orphan, with Ted Wheeler being the not bald Daddy Warbucks. He didn’t sleep worth a shit that night. His mind constantly running over the millions of conversations you had up until his graduation— not once did you let on that you weren’t okay.

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HOPE YOU ENJOYED 💋 SEE YOU IN VOL IV

vol iv

[cowgurrrl]

Sweet Creature

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader (plus platonic Ellie Williams x fem!reader)

Author’s note: holy shit thank you for your ideas this is my favorite. also i put it in the tags of darlin’ i’d wait for you BUT there is a beautiful easter egg in the baby’s first and middle name and the first person to tell me what it is gets a kiss on the mouth

Summary: “Helping one another is part of the religion of our sisterhood.” - Jo March, Little Women aka Ellie rescues you and Joel [1.3k]

Warnings: newborn DRAMA, post-partum anxiety if you squint, Joel being a softie for his daughters

"C'mon, Charlie girl, you've gotta help us out." You mumble as you bounce your crying baby around the room. It's been an hour of her crying nonstop, and you've tried everything. Nursing, changing her diaper, changing her clothes, burping, changing the room's temperature, and playing music. You even went as far as to check her for any injuries that you may have missed. You're not sure what kind of trouble your one-week-old could've gotten into to warrant an injury, but you're exhausted, and it seemed to make sense. 

Joel woke up with her first, as he has done every night since you gave birth, so you had the chance to get some rest. Recovery has been rough for you, and he's already doing so much for you. He and Ellie barely let you get out of bed most days because they want to ensure you take the time to heal. Even though the thought is nice, you wake up and listen when Joel gets up with her every time. It's not that you don't trust him. It's that you're already the world's lightest sleeper, and Joel is deaf in one ear and is rarely aware of just how loud he is. You also don't mind secretly watching as he lays her on his bare chest in the low light of your room, singing to her or explaining what he's doing for her to engage her little brain. He's caught you staring at least twice since she's come home. 

But tonight was different. She woke up crying and was pretty much inconsolable until Joel brought her over to you. She nursed for a minute or two before wrenching away from you and screaming. Since then, you and Joel have been taking turns trying to get her to go back to sleep. It's hard having a newborn with two capable parents. You have no idea how you had a baby as a single mom. 

"D'you wanna try to feed her again?" Joel asks as he stands next to you, disheveled and overwhelmed but trying his best to comfort the both of you. 

"I don't know," you shake your head, your throat starting to feel like sandpaper. You were always the more emotional person in your relationship, but postpartum emotions are nothing compared to your regular ones. "I don't know what's wrong." You cry. Joel touches your back and makes a sympathetic noise as tears fall down your face.

"Let me take her for a little bit so you can sit down, okay?" He suggests as he carefully takes Charlie from you. She chuffs at the transition before going right back to screaming her head off. You sit on the edge of the bed and watch as he holds her like a football and hums what sounds like Hank Williams to her. You'd be surprised if she could even hear him over her own crying, and you take a deep breath, racking your brain for what could be wrong. 

"What are you doing to her?" Ellie asks as she walks into the room, rubbing sleep from her eyes. She's wearing one of Joel's shirts and hand-me-down shorts from Maria, and her hair is as messy as Joel's. If you weren't still crying, you think you'd probably laugh. 

"She's just a little fussy. You can go back to bed." Joel says, but she shakes her head and walks over to where he's standing with Charlie. 

"What's going on, bug? Huh?" She asks, crouching to look at Charlie's tired, sad eyes. She may have your eye shape, but she got those heartbreaking brown eyes from Joel. When she cries like this, they look like the saddest puppy dog eyes in the world. "D'you want me to try?" Ellie asks, and Joel shoots you a look.

You've been very intentional about not putting too much pressure on Ellie to help with the baby. She's sixteen, and she shouldn't have to be burdened with that if she doesn't have to be. You told her she could help as much or as little as she wanted, but she took it upon herself to help more often than not. You just didn't want her to wake up for midnight cry sessions or feel like she had to be put in a parenting position. She's still a kid.

"It's worth a shot," Joel says, and you shrug, way too tired to argue with him. He carefully passes Charlie to Ellie, who cradles her close and pushes her hair out of her face. Joel stays nearby in case she decides to hand the baby off, but he doesn't intrude on their moment.

"Hey, it's alright. You let it all out," Ellie says as she sways. Her fingers muss Charlie's hair, and she's quieting down. Not a lot, but enough to see it as crying instead of blood-curdling screaming. "I've got you, sweet girl." Ellie's hand moves to her chest, gently scratching and rubbing little circles into Charlie's onesie, and like magic, she stops crying. She turns her little head toward Ellie and yawns big and long like we kept her up. You sigh in relief and tip your head up to the ceiling as silence fills the room. Your ears are still ringing, and your body hurts, but it's quiet. 

It would be easy to claim that Charlie calmed down because Ellie's wearing one of Joel's worn shirts or that she just finally hit a wall and fell asleep, but you like to think she was just missing her sister. Joel looks between Ellie and Charlie in disbelief, mumbling "shit" under his breath. "What can I say? She loves me." She shrugs, and you quietly laugh as she walks over to the rocking chair in the corner and curls up with Charlie. She snags the yellow blanket one of the older women in town knitted for you off the back of the chair and drapes it around them. You would think they've known each other for centuries. 

Joel is still standing in the middle of the room, his curls a mess on top of his head, as his sleep-deprived brain tries to piece together what happened. He scratches at his stubbly jaw and shakes his head as he thinks. "You don't have to stay up with her. I can put her back in the crib." Joel offers, and you watch her hold on Charlie get a little tighter.

"It's gonna take me a long time to fall asleep. You guys should get some rest. I've got her," Ellie says, a smile pulling at her lips. "Besides, I like hanging out with her." You would cry again if you had the energy, but you don't. Instead, you crawl back into bed and get comfortable. Joel looks to you for confirmation, always looking for your approval as the mother of his child before making any decisions, but you're already half-asleep again.

"If she's volunteering, I'm not gonna stop her," you mumble into your pillow. "Just don't fall asleep."

"Sir, yes, sir," Ellie says. They may have stayed up talking. You're not sure, but when you wake up, Ellie is between you and Joel in bed, and Charlie is in her crib. She's tucked under the arm Joel is using to hold your waist as he sleeps, and her hand is on his chest. He's snoring lightly as he holds you both, perfectly content to cuddle with his girls in bed. You smile and kiss each of their heads before falling asleep again.

You vaguely remember fearing how the new baby would affect Joel and Ellie's relationship and worrying if Ellie and the baby would get along. You don't know exactly why Charlie was crying last night or why she calmed down so fast once Ellie had her, and you don't need to. 

Sometimes a girl just needs her sister. 

Sometimes a father just needs to baby his sixteen-year-old a little longer.

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taglist: @evyiione @nyotamalfoy @abbyhaslongshorts​

[hiddleswiftt]

I love your fics and I saw you wanted ideas so here I am. I thought maybe you could do a Taylor inspired fic for Laurie with Love Story maybe with like a ball or something?

ooohh! yes! I’ve been waiting on a laurie fic request for a while now!

maybe with another march sister reader??

(tumblr deleted my first draft so i have to re-write!)

LOVE STORY (INSPIRED BY THE TAYLOR SWIFT SONG “LOVE STORY”!)

laurie laurence x march sister (fem) reader!

description - you have been friends with laurie (along with your sisters) since his mother passed away. laurie was the lonely boy who was living with old mr laurence who lived opposite the march house, and ever since he started hanging around with you and your sisters, you’ve started to have feelings for him. six years later, you are travelling around europe with aunt march as her companion whilst you are studying and completing your acting classes. you and aunt march are invited to a ball in paris and someone in particular is on the list for you to dance with for the night! - i tried to make it similar to amy and laurie’s story but the reader wanting to be an actress rather than an artist like amy!

you’ve always loved laurie. always.

even when he had feelings for one of your older sisters josephine (or jo).

you’d be the one sitting aside, especially during your eldest sister meg’s wedding, while you watch jo and laurie dance. amy would reassure you that you’d be okay as you sit with her and beth (as she continued to struggle slightly from trying to get better from scarlet fever).

when beth got scarlet fever, laurie was always around for you. when you found out about it, jo and meg told you to stay with aunt march until beth is well again.

“i don’t want to say with aunt march! id rather catch scarlet fever than stay with her, the poodle and the parrot!” you’d wine as you put your head between the pillows of the couch while laurie would insist for you to stay with aunt march.

he was very persuasive, but in a kind way.

he wouldn’t tell you to do something if you didn’t want to. but this was serious. the spread of scarlet fever was serious. it wasn’t a joke anymore. you just about understood that.

laurie told you he’d come and see you, and you suggested for him to bring either the carriage or the phaeton, which he did, just to make you happy.

whenever laurie came to see you, you’d be dancing dramatically (as you would usually) wearing aunt march’s feathered things. you’d smile at him when you realise he’s been standing at the doorframe of the room watching you.

you’d show him things such as aunt march’s wedding ring (which you told him that she was too fat to wear anymore - he’d snigger at you quietly when you said this), the golden bracelet that was for the only child she ever had (until it died unfortunately…) or perhaps anything else you had found amongst aunt march’s house while she was napping.

you would show laurie the will you’ve written, since you thought you’d be the next to die to scarlet fever. laurie sat with you in confusion.

“from y/n m/n march, this is her will and testament for those that may die after her,” laurie read, “for my sister jo, i give her my..”

in this case the list went on.. and on..

laurie looked at you, “y/n.. you’re not going to die! you’re not even sick!” he tells you, trying to reassure you that you were going to be fine.

then you look across to him, and slump down next to him, “i know.. it’s just a precaution! i will some day.. we all do!” you tell him.

there’s a silence between the two of you. then you finally pluck up the confidence to ask laurie to write something else on your will.

“laurie? i have one more thing for you to add?” you ask him, “i want all my curls cut off to all the men who had loved me!”

you seem a little dramatic, but laurie laughs at you slightly and quickly scribbles it down on the will for you.

“if you want to look horrific in your coffin, y/n, go ahead!” laurie tells you, laughing as he finishes writing your comment on the will.

TIME SKIP -

it had been a year since and you had been travelling around europe with aunt march as her companion, while you completed and studied your acting classes.

you and aunt march were set to attend a ball in paris! you had changed a lot since you left home so aunt march suggested that you should start looking towards marriage now that you are properly of age now.

you had met a man named fred vaughn back a few years ago (he’s a friend of laurie’s) on the lake one summer. aunt march suggested for the two of you to marry, but you were unsure, and you thought that you wanted to make your own match.

you arrived at the ball venue in paris. you looked stunning. one of the best dressed probably..

as you entered the venue, you were given a card which included 6 men that wanted to dance with you for the evening.

you glanced at the names on the card briefly (except for the first - which you headed to first).

gregory lance - the first gentleman on the list. wants to dance “the saraband” with you. so you headed towards him for the dance.

as you quickly got through each dance, you finished your fifth finally. you said goodbye to david molesey - who was your fifth dancer, and looked down to your card again to find your sixth and last dance of the night.

you looked down to spot a familiar name on your card.

‘6. theodore laurence - lancers’

you smile and start to look for laurie, not realising that he was already staring at you from the doorframe of the room.

you smile at him and you decide to meet each other half way.

you hug him straight away, trying not to let you or laurie ruin your look of the night. “laurie! what are you doing here? i thought you were in london with your grandfather!” you said, smiling at him.

he smiles at you, completely in awe of you of how beautiful you look, “well.. i guess i am needed here just incase you need anything, y/n march!” he said, “and you look so beautiful! i almost didn’t recognise you!”

you blush a little and slap his arm softly, “yeah yeah.. what have you been up to, laurie?” you ask him, “anymore of the gambling and the drinking?”

he laughs slightly, “no.. no.. none of that recently, y/n!” he tells you, then you remember something that didn’t do laurie any good recently.

“im so sorry jo turned you down, laurie.. im so sorry.” you tell him, looking at him, making sure he’s okay.

laurie looks back up at you, “don’t worry.. im not..” he said to you, smiling at you and taking in the view of you, then he remembered that you both have a dance together, “miss march? may i have this dance?”

laurie takes your hand in his, leading you to the middle of the room to start the dance. you nod at him, “one often does at a ball, laurie laurence..” you tell him, giggling at him a little.

he smiles at you, as you both walk and start the dance. the dance has become more easier for you both.

you remember when you were younger, probably about five years ago, you and laurie were stood in the laurence house dancing. beth was playing the piano, meg was constantly flirting with mr brooke and jo and amy were giggling at you two while we continued to step on each others feet as you both danced.

oddly it was the same dance that were to start dancing at the ball just then. it was a familiar feeling that you hadn’t seen or talked of in a long while. the nostalgia rushed back to you both immediately.

it felt just right.

as the music and the dance stopped, there was a sense of something between you two.

you invited laurie to talk with aunt march and a few others. a lot of aunt march’s friends thought you and laurie were married!

you just shut your mouth and didn’t say much after that.

MINI TIME SKIP -

you decided to have a break and walk outside to get some air on the balcony. it was getting slightly too warm in the building so it was good to escape for a few minutes.

you didn’t notice laurie behind you, so it shocked you for a moment.

“y/n? are you alright?” he asked you, finally catching up with you and standing next to you on the balcony.

you smile up at him, “yes.. yes.. im fine.. i just needed some air..” you tell him.

you notice two boats on the ocean near to the venue, as you both stood on the balcony. the boats were close together. laurie caught you looking at them, and swiftly looked back at you to admire you.

“those boats are pretty close together.. as if they are on the same path..” you mumble to him.

laurie smiles and takes your hand in his. this gets you to look up at him. “y/n.. are we on the same path?” he asks you.

you suddenly look from the boats to laurie, who had now taken your hand in his. you looked into his eyes. you both knew exactly what you wanted.

“i guess we are, laurie…” you finally admit, as you start smiling at him.

you both stand and admire each other for a couple of seconds, then laurie begins to hold your waist, now leaning into you slowly.

as you both continue to stand on the balcony, you and laurie lean in together for a slow but passionate kiss.

you bring your hand to his cheek, and continue to kiss. the two of you felt alive at this point. more alive than you both have ever felt, ever.

you knew you should’ve told him how you felt years ago, although laurie was in love with jo at the time. gladly, you didn’t think that was the case anymore.

laurie loved you. and you only.

you loved laurie. and laurie only.

you both moved away from the kiss, laughing and sniggering still as if you were still children. you both knew that you weren’t children anymore, since time and your childhoods have gone so fast, and you both had nothing you could do to change that.

you were just happy in the moment. the moment you were continuously picturing for years. you never thought it would ever happen, but here you both were. in that moment together.

you notice something different about him that you didn’t see before.

“laurie. you grew out your hair!” you say, playing with it a little.

laurie laughs at you slightly, “i guess you could care for it?” he says, now looking at you.

you smile at him happily, “always, laurie… always!” you say, kissing his cheek.

suddenly someone with a letter on a tray walks to you and laurie. you pick it up swiftly and open it, making sure laurie stands by you though it, as you think the letter could be what you think it could be.

you read the letter. you were right.

you stand next to laurie and sob into his arms.

“it’s beth…” you say as you put your head into his chest, letting laurie hold you.

you let laurie read the letter. it’s from marmee, clarifying beth’s death.

you weren’t as close to beth as jo was to her. but you did have your fun times. especially that same moment when you, laurie and your sisters were in laurence house together, as beth played the piano while you and laurie would attempt to dance but instead you’d be treading on each others feet.

although you and beth weren’t as close as her and jo were, she still was your sister.

it was as if you planned out her death, as if you planned out your own with the will you wrote and told laurie about a few years ago.

MINI TIME SKIP -

it took you a couple of days to get through beth’s death. you were still in paris, you told marmee you’d come home as soon as possible.

you had a mix of feelings about what could be happening between you and laurie and thoughts of beth, and the fact that you weren’t there to support her when she was dying.

you stood on the balcony of the home you were staying in with aunt march. aunt march wasn’t doing so great herself either. she was falling ill now.

laurie came to see you that same day. he wanted to talk about the relationship you had but he was unsure whether you were okay to talk about it after hearing about beth’s passing.

“i keep remembering that will i wrote when beth had scarlet fever..” you remind laurie, as you both stand together.

“you bequeathed me a plaster horse, if i remember correctly.” laurie thought, as he looked at you.

“i had my death all planned out.. all rehearsed in my mind…” you say, trying not to cry, “i had beth’s all rehearsed and ready too… thought it would.. tear me open.. or burn me down like a house. but now im just frozen!”

laurie took your hand in his again. “ill come and see you everyday, y/n…” he says, admiring you but also making sure that you’re okay.

you look up at him, slowly twiddling your thumb with his, “promise me?” you ask.

he looks at you again, watching you twiddling your thumb with his, “yes.” laurie told you, now reaching into his pocket for something.

you wonder what he was looking for, so you decided to look out at the view from the castle balcony.

it took him a few seconds to find what he was looking for. he brought a black box from his pocket, and showed it to you.

you turned back to him and looked at the box. you were stunned.

“so.. y/n.. could we make it last forever?” he said, opening the box to reveal the engagement ring inside.

you were taken by surprise that laurie wants to marry you. you smile widely, and nod at him, letting him put the ring on your finger confirming your engagement.

MINI TIME SKIP -

you and laurie were on their way home from your long trip around europe with aunt march. aunt march had briefly found out about your engagement to laurie before passing out, and being taken home with aunt carrol and her daughter florence, who had been your other company before laurie arrived.

as soon as you arrived home, laurie helped you out of the carriage to find meg, marmee, father, amy, and jo (slowly) running out to greet you both.

marmee (with her good eye) noticed a ring on your finger. funnily enough, it wasn’t the same ring that laurie gave you a few days ago. it wasn’t the engagement ring.

you smiled down at the ring, and then looked back up at laurie.

“that’s not an engagement ring!” marmee says, realising something.

you and laurie smile at each other as you notice marmee admiring your ring.

“it’s a wedding ring!” marmee says, pulling you into a large hug and kissing you on the cheek, while father shakes laurie’s hand to congratulate us both, and to thank him for marrying you.

you smile at your mother again. “i cant quite get my glove over it!” you laugh, then moving to laurie to give your ‘husband’ a kiss on the cheek.

MINI TIME SKIP -

the hustle and bustle around the march house after yours and laurie’s return and the surprise of your marriage spread amongst the house. especially to mr laurence (laurie’s grandfather), who had told him to go abroad after jo turned him down.

you were happy. both of you were.

turns out that jo was falling in love with the professor she met at the boarding house in New York. she arrived home a week after yours and laurie’s return after being out in town and the professor was waiting for her.

you knew she was in love with him. jo knew you had always been in love with laurie.

you kindly persuaded jo to tell professor bhaer how she felt about him, and from soon after that, all your sisters and yourself were in love.

you all sat together, you and laurie at the piano as laurie played and you rested your head on his shoulder, meg and john with kitty and minnie, marmee and father and finally jo and bhaer.

it just fitted together so perfectly.

please don’t copy my work! <3

(let me know what you think of this fic by giving this post a like, follow and a comment!)

— h4uerkings

[summer-nights19]

Good for business part 4 -Cooking Class

Balor x fem reader

Part 3 Part 5

After a long day of sourcing lumber and stone to repair the bridge, all you really wanted was to crash on your bed with a good book. A cooking class had definitely not been in your plans, but after reading the letter from Josephine and Reina inviting you to the group class at the inn, you'd decided to scrap your plans for the afternoon and attend anyway - it sounded like it could be fun, and it was very possible that a certain travelling merchant would be there. Your heart hammered in your chest at the possibility of seeing him - Mistria was a small town, so you bumped into each other and chatted every day (sometimes on purpose), but this felt different. Scarier.

You'd begun to gradually surrender to the reality of your feelings for Balor. Now, instead of opposing them, you hoped they were fleeting and would pass quickly. One thing was certain, though - never before had you been that excited about the prospect of seeing a man you'd only known for a couple of weeks.

Sighing to yourself, you began walking to the inn. It would be rude not to show up when Reina and Josephine had gone through the trouble of sending an invitation, right ? As you pushed the door open, you heard a deep, melodic voice that almost made you stop in your tracks. So he was here.

After Josephine greeted you, Reina came up to you with a knowing smile.

"Hi, Y/N. I was just showing Balor some of the basics. Why don't you set up next to him so you two can help each other while I help Celine ? He's just in the kitchen,"

"Hey, Y/N. I wouldn't thought my knife technique could get any better, but Jo is a talented woman," you turned to Balor, who was chopping vegetables at lighting speed.

"It looks like you're just about done here. Are you ready to prepare the soup ?" You said, smiling as you struggled to get the large cauldron into the kitchen. As soon as he saw you, Balor put his knife down.

"Here, let me help," he took the cauldron from you and pushed it into the kitchen with ease as you watched, feeling slightly embarrassed.

"Thank you. I'll chop the rest of the vegetables to make up for it," you stuttered, taking the knife in your hand and starting on a carrot. However, after witnessing Balor's performance earlier, your own movements seemed slow and clumsy. After a couple of minutes, you felt a warm hand clasp your own gently yet firmly. You looked down and saw scarred knuckles and long fingers intertwining with your own

"Your technique is off. Here," Balor began guiding your hand, speeding up your movements as you went along.

"Won't we chop our fingers off if we do this ?" While you trusted Balor, this didn't seem like a very safe way to handle knives ... or maybe it was more that you could barely handle the feeling of his large, calloused hand against your own without your mind wandering off into fantasies you weren't ready to unpack.

"Just relax Y/N. I know my way around knives," Balor smirked at you as he continued moving your hands. Even after you started to get the hang of it, he didn't let go.

Suddenly, the door to the inn burst open and March walked in.

"I thought this was going to be a private cooking lesson," he looked at you accusingly, as if you'd wronged him just by being there. What a dick.

"Nonsense, the more the merrier. Come on in," Josephine smiled at March and led him towards the kitchen, where Balor was still "helping" you to cut vegetables.

"Get a room," he muttered as soon as he saw you guys, causing you to roll your eyes. As March sorted through produce, he kept looking up at you guys and frowning. For someone who supposedly hated you, he seemed weirdly bothered by your proximity with Balor.

"Aaand that's all done," Balor said as he scraped the vegetables into the cauldron and spun you towards it with a flourish. You giggled at his theatrics.

"Thank you for your knife lesson, Snicklefritz. It's been very helpful," you said innocently as you started packing away.

Balor flicked your shoulder from behind you "What did I say about-"

"Y/N ! Come over here !" March shouted, breaking the spell between you and Balor. You'd almost forgotten that you weren't alone in the kitchen.

Trying to appear calm, you walled up to March's station, where he was sorting through produce.

"What's up ?"

"Uhh umm well.. I had an important question to ask... uhh do you think that beetroots are part of the recipe ?" March stuttered, his face as red as the beet he was holding.

"I imagine Reina will know, but I think so since she put them here,"

"OK. Go away now. I'm trying to work," you held back a sigh as you went back to your station. March really was a weird guy. Half the time you couldn't wormed out if he hated you or if he was on the verge of asking you out. As you looked up at Balor, you noticed thar he was glaring daggers into March's back as he worked, but, as soon as he saw you looking, his face smoothed into its usual easygoing expression.

"Let’s go wait at the table since we're done here. I'll order us drinks," he smiled, placing a friendly hand on your shoulder and guiding you to the nearest table. The entire time, the butterflies in your stomach were getting increasingly strong and you were feeling your face start to turn pink.

***

About ten minutes later, Reina came out with the finished bowls of vegetable soup.

"Wonderful job, everyone," she said as she passed around servings.

Balor grinned as he took the first bite.

"This is going to make my time on the road much more bareable ! I should have asked for lessons ages ago,"

You nodded in agreement as you dug in. The soup had a light, earthy flavour that felt like a warm hug in the middle of a cold winter evening. As you watched your new friends eat and laugh over the delicious food, you felt a wave of gratitude was over you, particularly as your eyes lingered on the blue haired man next to you. Moving here had definitely been a gamble worth taking.

Masterlist

[y6g6mis]

NO TIME TO DIE

summary. In which, you’ve fallen gravely ill. But it’s much worse than you could’ve thought, sepsis. You’ve now been informed that you only have a single week to live.

includes. laurie laurence x fem! reader, love confessing, a lotta angst, hurt/comfort, also a lot of crying so ☹️

One week.

One week was all you had.

It wasn’t enough, you wanted more time. There were so many things you wanted to do.

You now lay in your bed with tear streaks down your cheeks, helpless, you couldn’t get out even if you wanted to, you felt weak.

You stared at the painting across from you, it was beautiful. It took your mind off of your infection for a while now.

You didn’t want to leave, you hated yourself, you couldn’t sleep, you cried too much.

There was one other thing that took your mind off of your suffering.

Laurie Laurence.

Laurie visited you everyday since he got the news, the first time he heard, he rushed over to your house and found you in your bed.

Tears in his eyes, he hugged you, thoughts were racing through his mind, he didn’t want to lose you, he’d rather die first than lose you.

You fidgeted with your hands, there was nothing you could do.

You then heard someone knock on your wall

“Hey.” He said.

“Hi, Laurie.” You said, your voice was hoarse and raspy.

He sat down next to you, you could tell he was tired.

“How’re you feelin’?” He asked, you could hear his voice breaking.

“I’ve been better.” You said. “H’bout you, how’ve you been?”

“I-“ He croaked. “I’ve been- I’ve been good.” You could tell he wasn’t, tears were swelling in his eyes

You nodded, pursing your lips together. You put your hand on his, then sat up closer to him.

“You’re sure?”

He hesitated, how could he not? he was going to lose you, forever. He was devastated.

A single tear streamed down his face. You raised your hand to wipe it away with your thumb.

"I don't feel any pain." You reassured him, he knew, but he still couldn’t bear to see you like this.

He put his hand on yours as his tears streamed down his face, he laid his head on your shoulder, you wanted to cry. You tangled you fingers in his dark curly hair, you only wanted to spend the rest of your days with him. Then you snapped. You were going to pass away, there was nothing stopping it, you wish there was, oh, how you wish there was. Your heart ached at the thought of you breathing your last.

“If I could take this away from you. I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

• • •

Morning came, a week had passed by as if it was nothing, you woke up with tears down your cheeks, nothing but tears.

Your mother came running into your room, and wrapped her arms around you.

“My dearest daughter.” She cried.

“Oh, mother.” You said, as you pulled away.

She then sat up, and dried her tears. “So, me and your father, we have a small surprise planned.”

“Really?” Your eyes glinted with hope.

She nodded.

You then watched with a smile as everyone in the March family came through your door, including Laurie.

Jo, Meg, Amy, and Beth all came up to you and wrapped their arms around you, this was the happiest you’ve felt.

Amy, being the most excited, said, “We’ve each decided to bring you a small gift, of course, ‘twas Laurie’s idea, after all.”

You turned to Laurie to find him smiling at you, you then smiled back at him.

You smiled at them in awe. “Thank you guys, you honestly didn’t have to do ALL of this.”

“Nonsense.” Meg said. “We all love and care for you, we wanted to show that.”

Each of the March sisters passed around their gifts, as you thanked them, you couldn’t help but feel sad, not because they weren’t want you wanted, no, because you had no use for them, you truly loved every single gift, but, after today, you’d have absolutely no use for them, you fought the urge to cry, yet again.

“Thank you, guys, this truly meant a lot.”

They then all went and hugged you once more.

“We really do love you.” Amy said.

“As do I to you.” You said.

• • •

Laurie was the last one to leave, he couldn’t think for once to leave you alone.

Laurie sat beside you on your bed, you could see the sunset peeking through your curtains and shining onto this face.

“Laurie, I can’t thank you enough for doing this.” You say.

“I only did it for you.”

You smiled at him.

“I care for you, I really do.” He reassured.

“I’d do anything for you.”

Your smile dropped halfway, you did and didn’t believe what he was telling you.

He hesitated. “I’ve fallen in love with you.”

Your eyes glistened in the sunset, his words felt like stones being carried off your shoulders.

“Laurie…” Was all that slipped out.

He inched closer, and caressed your hand with his.

His voice was like a whisper in the wind.

“My darling,” He began. “When you smile, the earth shakes, the universe stops, the heavens collapse, and my heart bursts.”

There was a beat.

Happiness was an understatement for what you felt in that very moment, not even the words of God himself could describe your emotions, your facial expressions didn’t move, but your eyes…your eyes said it all.

Your eyes shined up at him like the waters from the shining ponds in the backyard. He then pressed his forehead against yours, as he said,

“I love you.”

Your hand reached up, and caressed his face, he then put his hand on top of yours.

He looked so pretty.

Though you’d be gone by sunrise, you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him, everyday, forever, you’d taken yourself for a fool, the day you fell for him, you were taken aback by your emotions. You couldn’t trust them, then, you grew fond of them, you realized you knew what real love feels like, it felt wonderful.

You shut your eyes, tears streaming down from your eyes, it was all too much.

Laurie tsked silently.

“C’mere.” He said, he laid you down as he did next to you.

You laid your head on his chest, you felt safer, but your emotions still came flooding out.

His hand was buried in your hair, knotting it, you couldn’t care less, you just wanted him next to you, only you and him, forever.

As you were falling into your eternal sleep, you uttered 4 words that stuck with him forever.

“I love you, too.”

[spaceagebachelormann]

𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒓𝒖𝒍𝒆𝒔!

HOW TO REQUEST

— state the character, romantic or platonic, the format of the request, and what you want with it

— do you have any specifics for the reader? male, female, blonde, poc, etc?

— requests can be send through inbox or dms, but inbox is heavily encouraged!

— PLEASE ACTUALLY SPECIFY WHAT YOU WANT WITH YOUR REQUEST!! ITS VERY HARD FOT ME TO WRITE SOMETHING THAT JUST SAYS “_____ x reader fluff” WITH NO FURTHER EXPLANATION!! GIVE ME A PLOT LINE!!

WHAT I WILL WRITE:

platonic

romantic

familial

any gender x any gender

headcanons

poly relationships

sensitive topics

x reader

ships (canon or non-canon, so long as it’s not problematic)

i. i WILL write cheating, but not if a character is going it to the reader/another character. i’ll make someone comforting another person after being cheated on, but i won’t write finnick odair cheating on someone

same thing ^^ goes for homophobic, transphobic, ableist topics like that, and. well i guess the same goes for abuse?

WHAT I WONT WRITE:

smut (i’m 14)

yandere

incest

student x teacher

canonically gay character (ex: wylan van eck) x fem!reader for romantic requests

canonically lesbian character x male!reader for romantic requests

songfics (nothing against them, i just don’t know how!!)

things about ocs

ship fics

character list (more to come!)

❍ = easiest characters to write for

bolded — favourite characters to write for

KEEPER OF THE LOST CITIES

❍ sophie foster, ❍ dex dizznee, fitz vacker, ❍ keefe sencen, ❍ biana vacker, ❍ marellla redek, ❍ maruca chebota, tam song, linh song, ❍ wylie endal, ❍ jensi babblos, stina heks

CHRONICLES OF NARNIA

❍ peter pevensie, ❍ edmund pevensie, ❍ susan pevensie, ❍ lucy pevensie, mr tumnus, ❍ caspian, eustace scrubb, jill pole, shasta, aravis

RIORDANVERSE

❍ percy jackson, ❍ annabeth chase, ❍ grover underwood, ❍ jason grace, ❍ piper mclean, ❍ leo valdez, ❍ hazel levesque, ❍ frank zhang, nico di angelo, will solace, reyna arellano, rachel dare, ❍ travis stoll, ❍ connor stoll, thalia grace, magnus chase, ❍ alex fierro, carter kane, sadie kane, lester papadopolous, lavinia asimov

PHANTOM OF THE OPERA

❍ christine daaé, ❍ raoul de chagny, erik destler, ❍ meg giry

p.s. i’ll write for the movie, musical, book and 1990 miniseries versions!!

HARRY POTTER

harry potter, ❍ hermione granger, ❍ ron weasley, ❍ luna lovegood, ❍ neville longbottom, ginny weasley, fred weasley, george weasley, ❍ sirius black, remus lupin, ❍ james potter, ❍ marlene mckinnon, mary macdonald, dorcas meadowes, lily evans

RIDE THE CYCLONE

ocean o’connell rosenberg, ❍ noel gruber, ❍ mischa bachinski, ❍ ricky potts, jane doe, penny lamb, ❍ constance blackwood

SHADOW AND BONE

❍ alina starkov, malyen oretsev, ❍ genya safin, ❍ zoya nazyalensky, david kostyk, erm others i accidentally deleted remind me to update this

SIX OF CROWS

kaz brekker, inej ghafa, ❍ jesper fahey, ❍ wylan van eck, nina zenik, matthias helvar

THE OUTSIDERS

ponyboy curtis, ❍ johnny cade, sodapop curtis, darry curtis, steve randall, ❍ twobit matthews, ❍ dallas winston

THE HUNGER GAMES

katniss everdeen, peeta mellark, ❍ finnick odair, ❍ johanna mason, marvel sanford, clove kentwell, cato hadley, ❍ cinna

IT (2017)

bill denbrough, eddie kaspbrak, richie tozier, ❍ stan uris, beverly marsh, ben hanscom, ❍ mike hanlon

THE SCHOOL FOR GOOD AND EVIL

❍ agatha of woods beyond, ❍ sophie of woods beyond, tedros of camelot, ❍ hort of bloodbrook, ❍ hester of ravenswood, ❍ anadil, ❍ dot, nicola, aric, rhian mistral, rafal mistral, leonora lesso, clarissa dovey

THE LAND OF STORIES

❍ alex bailey, ❍ connor bailey, ❍ red riding hood, ❍ jack, ❍ goldilocks, ❍ bree campbell

SCOOBY DOO

daphne blake, ❍ fred jones, shaggy rogers, velma dinkley

LITTLE WOMEN

❍ jo march, amy march, beth march, meg march, ❍ laurie

A GOOD GIRLS GUIDE TO MURDER

pippa fitz-amobi, ❍ ravi singh, naomi ward, ❍ cara ward, connor reynolds, ❍ jamie reynolds, nat da silva

THE MIGHTY DUCKS

❍ charlie conway, adam banks, ❍ lester averman, guy germaine, ❍ connie moreau, julie gaffney, ❍ ken wu, dean portman, luis mendoza, dwayne robertson, ❍ fulton reed

DRACULA

dracula, ❍ lucy westenra, mina harker, arthur holmwood, ❍ renfield, dr seward, abraham van helsing, ❍ quincey morris

FRANKENSTEIN

victor frankenstein, ❍ adam frankenstein, elizabeth lavenza, justine moritz, ernest frankenstein, henry clerval, the bride

DR JEKYLL AND MR HYDE

henry jekyll, ❍ edward hyde, ❍ richard enfield, gabriel utterson, hastie lanyon, lucy harris

MONSTER HIGH

gotta update this one guys,,,

THE BREAKFAST CLUB

john bender , ❍ claire standish, allison reynolds, brian johnson, andrew clark

THE POWERPUFF GIRLS

❍ blossom utonium, bubbles utonium, buttercup utonium , ❍ brick jojo, boomer jojo, butch jojo

DAVID BOWIE

❍ jareth, thomas jerome newton, david bowie

SWEENEY TODD

❍ sweeney, anthony hope, ❍ mrs lovett, johanna

THE ROSEWOOD CHRONICLES

lottie pumpkin, ellie wolf, ❍ jamie volk, ❍ ollie moreno, ❍ raphael wilcox, ❍ anastacia alcroft leblanc, saskia san martin, lola tomkins, mickey tomkins, binah fae

HAIRSPRAY

❍ corny collins, ❍ seaweed j stubbs, amber von tussle, tracy turnblad, penny pingleton, link larkin

MISC. CHARACTERS

sarah williams, ❍ bernard the elf, ❍ rodrick heffley, ❍ varian

[littlexscarletxwitch]

── ༊*·˚⋆ 𝗶𝗻 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗮𝗺𝘆 𝗺𝗮𝗿𝗰𝗵

paring: amy march x fem!reader

tag(s): fluff, headcanons, friends to lovers, secret relationship (?), period piece

warning(s): grammatical errors, not proofread, unedited

word count: 1.9k

note: Amy has been in my mind the last couple of days so i decided to finally write this idea and I got carried away. I hope it doesn't flop but I feel like it's going to flop :( I'm not a native english speaker, so please let me know about any sort of mistake. Hope you enjoy! <;3 (Also "jealousy" part 2 is currently in the works since a lovely person asked for it)

requests are open! + check my rules here <3

Your older brother was best friends with Laurie. Meaning you were always around him. Laurie was like a second brother to you. 

It was always the three of you, until Laurie met Jo. Then it was just you. 

Both Laurie and your brother were very fond of her, so the three of them became an inseparable trio. 

You didn’t mind, of course, because they were always there if you needed them. But the best part of meeting Jo was meeting Amy March. 

Your brother, Laurie, Mr. Brooke and you were all present when she came to the Laurence residence with a wounded hand. 

“Sit down,” Mr. Brooke said. “Sit down, Laurie,” you could sense the annoyance in his tone. He was clearly tired. “Latin is a privilege,” he continued. 

You honestly weren’t pay to much attention to them, your book was more interesting than listening to Laurie being lectured about the importance of latin. 

“Please, you have to learn this. I can’t afford to lose this position. Just return to the Cicero–”

“There’s a girl out there,” Laurie cut him off, catching everyone's attention. 

“What?” your brother asked in disbelief, standing up next to him. 

“No, there’s not,” Mr. Brooke tried to catch their attention.

“Yes, Mr. Brooke, there’s a girl,” he insisted. 

“No, there’s not.”

Laurie and your brother moved so you and Mr. Brooke could see that there was in fact a girl out there. You could see she was pacing back and forth, tears running down her face, and she was holding her hand. 

“Oh, there’s is a girl,” Mr. Brooke said. 

“That’s a girl,” your brother confirmed. 

The four of you opened up a window and stuck your heads out. Laurie called out to her. 

“Hello there. Are you hurt?”

“I’m Amy.”

“Hello, Amy. I’m Laurie.”

“I know. You brought my sister back after the dance,” so that was Jo’s little sister. “I would’ve never sprained my ankle. I have lovely small feet, the best in the family. But I can never go home again because I’m in such trouble,” she cried out. 

Your heart shrunk at her words, she was having a really hard time.

“Look,” she held her hand up. You could see she had a cut there, it didn’t look too deep though. “Mr. Davis hit me.”

She was then brought into the house and Mr. Brooke put on a bandage on her wound. Amy was looking around the place, the four of you looking at her every movement. 

She gasped, “Tell the servants I want this painting purchased immediately!” she said in a funny tone, which made you chuckle. A small smile appeared on her lips because of your reaction. 

“Amy! Are you in there?” 

“Meg! My hand. Look.”

Jo was trailing behind Meg. Laurie's eye’s immediately found her.

“What richness,” you heard Jo say. 

Meg, the eldest, immediately made her way towards her little sister. 

“It hurts so much,” Amy complained. 

You heard Jo talking to Laurie, your brother soon standing next to his friends. But your eyes were still on Amy. 

“What did you do?” Jo asked Amy, you could tell she was annoyed by her little sister. 

“Nothing. I did a drawing, and then Mr. Davis hit me,” she explained. 

But Jo was, once again, distracted by something else in the room, a painting. Laurie’s grandfather’s painting. 

“Jo, we do not compare grandfathers,” you heard a soft voice say. 

Margaret March and Mr. Laurence entered the room. 

He gently patted your back, before making his way to his grandson, your brother and Jo. 

The March woman were now discussing Amy’s education, giving that Mrs. March decided that her daughter wasn’t coming back to that school. 

“Yes, women being taught at home is more proper, I believe. Take Y/n for example,” Mr. Brooke said. 

You discretely rolled your eyes at him, but Amy saw it and sent a smile your way, making your cheeks go red. 

“Only because schools for women are poor,” Meg fired back. 

“Indeed. Quite right,” you could tell he was nervous just by talking to the brunette. 

“I wish all the girls would leave this horrible school and that he would die.”

You chuckled at her words, earning a stern look from your brother. So you coughed trying to divert the attention from your reaction. 

“You did wrong. And there will be consequences,” Mrs. March insisted. 

“I didn’t. I didn’t even do anything. I just did a drawing.”

“Thank you so much for taking care of our Amy,” Mrs. March said to Laurie and your brother. 

“Oh, yes of course.”

“My girls have a way of getting into mischief.”

“Well, so do we, ma’am,” your brother said, a grin forming on his lips. 

“Then one of you will run over and we’ll take care of you.”

“Please, and come over whenever you’d like. Invite your sister Beth as well,” Laurie said.

“Yes! Beth would adore the piano,” Jo said, jumping out of the couch, making Amy gasp in pain when Jo touched her wounded hand. 

“Is she the quiet one?” Mr. Laurence asked.

“Yes, that’s our Beth.”

“Tell that little girl to use our piano. I’m sure Y/n wouldn't mind, right Y/n?”

Mr. Laurance snapped you out of your thoughts, forcing you to look away from Amy. 

“Not at all,” you smile at the March family. 

“And Jo, borrow whatever book you’d like,” Laurie added.

“Can I come look at the painting?” Amy asked. 

“Yes.”

“Yes!” 

You and Laurie replied at the same time, your tone showing more excitement than his. 

“There’s also a lovely greenhouse,” Mr. Brooke said, smiling at Meg. 

“We must go. Girls.”

The room suddenly was filled with all the girls talking at the same time. Before walking out the door you heard Amy shouting goodbye.

“Thank you for my hand! It was nice meeting you, Y/n!” she said, raising her hand and flashing you a smile, making your heart pick up its pace.

And ever since then, the two of you were attached at the hip. 

Laurie and you were admitted to their little club. They weren’t quite sure about Laurie, but you convinced them that the two of you would be the best members.

Everytime Jo and Beth would come to the Laurence residence, Amy would tag along just to see you. 

The two of you would spend the entire day together. She would tell you about painting, you would tell her about the book you were currently reading. 

Some afternoons she would convince you to model for her and she would draw you.

But it was just an excuse to stare at you. 

In time, the friendly touches and stares became something else. It wasn’t friendly anymore, it was something deeper than that.

The two of you would sneak into the woods and have some alone time, somewhere where you could hold hands without having to hide or where the two of you could give eachother little kisses away from the public eye. 

Neither of you quite understood what the two of you were doing. You both knew that it felt right and just went with it. 

When Amy went to Europe you sent her letters, expressing all your love for her, how much you missed her. But you never signed them with your actual name, you would use a different one in case someone were to find them and read them. 

Amy would write back, and tell you all the amazing things she’d been up to, tell how much she missed you as well, and how much she loved you. 

Later on, you accompanied Laurie to Europe in hopes that you would see her again. And you did. 

Laurie and you were walking when all of a sudden you heard yours and Laurie’s name being called. 

“Y/n! Y/n! Y/n! Laurie!” she shouted, getting off the carriage and making her way towards the two of you. 

“Amy!”

She hugged you tightly, trying to show her love for you. The truth was she wanted to kiss you but she couldn’t with all those people, Laurie and her aunt looking. 

“My, you’ve grown so much,” Laurie said.

“You look beautiful, Amy,” you smiled at her with loving eyes. 

“You wrote you’d meet me at the hotel.”

“We couldn’t find you,” you were holding her hands. 

“You didn't look hard enough,” she said, holding back her smile. 

“Well, maybe we didn’t recognise you, ‘cause you’re so beautiful now,” Laurie said.

“Oh, stop it,” she playfully rolled her eyes at him 

She asked about Laruie’s grandfather, about your brother, about what the two of you were up to.

“I couldn’t believe Jo turned you down. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be, Amy,” Laurie said, a small smile on his lips.

“Amy!” her aunt called out to her.

She got in the carriage again, Laurie leaned inside to kiss Aunt March's cheek. 

“Hello, Y/n,” she said. Aunt March thought you were a decent young lady and actually liked you.

“Hello, Mrs. March,” you smiled at the lady.

Before saying goodbye Amy invited you and Laurie to a New Year’s eve party. 

“See you, Y/n!”

“Later, March,” you replied. Watching as the carriage moved away. 

When the three of you came back because of Beth’s funerals. Your brother noticed how you felt around a certain March and decided to ask you about it. 

“I’m sick, am I not?” tears running down your cheeks as he now knew your truth,

“No, Y/n. Loving someone could never mean you are sick,” he hugged you tightly, afraid that you would break into million pieces

The both of you stayed there, holding onto each other. 

“You know,” he broke the silence. “I’ve always loved Amy,” you looked at him, confusion writing all over your face. He chuckled at your reaction. “No, not like that, silly. Not like you love her. What I’m trying to say is that, maybe I could take care of her.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you know how rich our family is. She would be settle for life, and if she doesn’t want to have kids then that’s okay.”

“You’re saying you will marry her?”

“I’m saying that...” he carefully thought his next words. “Yes, I would be marrying her. But only for you. On paper we would be together but it could be the perfect opportunity for the two of you to have your chance together.”

“Would you do that for me? For us?” your eyes were watery once again. 

“You know how I feel about marriage, I don’t like it. So I would gladly marry Amy if it means one of us gets to live their happy ending.”

“But what if you fall in love and you do want to marry her?”

“If that happens we could figure something out later. But you should talk to her.”

“You’re dead serious about this?”

“Dead serious, Y/n. Now go and tell her.”

So you did. You told her your brother’s stupid plan. 

You thought she would laugh in your face, but the only thing she did was kiss your lips. 

It was so intimate and so perfect. It felt as if the two of you were promising to live together for the rest of your lives. As if things should always have been that way. It felt like the start of something new. 

“I can’t wait to marry your brother,” she joked before connecting her lips to yours once again.  

(Y/n’s brother understood how she felt because he felt the same way towards a special someone. No, it's not Jo. Let me know if you guessed it.)

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! <3

-M

[lady-ashfade]

Two Idiots, One smile.

Amy March x Fem!Reader. Drabble.

I watched the movie for the first time a few days ago. I just love bubbly woman.

Warnings: Drinking, taking care of drunk jo and Laurie, nothing really but fun and fluff.

You had no clue how you had gotten wrapped up into the two laughing idiots, or why you didn’t just leave them alone. Both of them had their arms wrapped around your shoulders as you helped them walk. “I can’t believe she’s such a beauty, you know y/n, you and my sister could be the best actors in the world.” The girls slurred words made you laugh and grip onto her waist as she tripped.

“She’d forgot the lines.” You looked over at the boy you’ve known all your life at his comment to tease you. “Don’t look at me! I didn’t say anything.” He tried to defend himself but the two took one glance at each other and got caught into a laughing fit. You had to keep dragging them by the arms or the clothes when they wouldn’t follow you.

The dark house came into view and you sighed, finally getting one of them home. It has been hours since you left the ball but they didn’t make it easy from being drunk off their asses. You knocked at the door but Jo reached the handle and pushed it open. Her voice yelling as she was the one to pull you both in, making you both trip.

Soon Jo and Laurie rushed to the cough and almost knocked it over from how hard they fell on it. The mother came in the view along with the maiden, three other girls rushing down the steps. You looked at your watched and cursed at the time. You explained that you had caught them drinking after it was too late, and got her home as quickly as you could.

What you didn’t expect was a girl with blonde hair and dark roots stare at you with a kind smile and sit before you. “I’m Amy.” You looked at her, a warm feeling in your chest built up at her beauty. You bowed your hand, cleaning off your skirt trying not to look like a mess in front of her.

“Nice to meet you, Amy.” Her eyes stayed on you but you decided to looked away, getting flustered by the second. “Hope to see you again.” You walked away and towards the whining boy that cringed to Jo’s hand. You took him by the stomach and yanked him away and off the cough in a death grip.

“It was nice to meet you all, I do apologize for his behavior.” You rushed him out the house as they bid farewell to the both of you. The girls, Amy and the smaller one followed you to the door and watched you to walk out the house.

The night was dark but they watched you until you couldn’t be seen anymore, Amy blushing and followed her eyes on you. “She seems nice…” Beth wrapped her arm with her sisters. “And pretty, she said she hopes we meet again.” The happy tone in her voice matched her feet that bounced at the thought. The two were called back inside. Amy went to sleep think of you, Beth went to bed with a matching smile she saw on her sisters face.

The next morning as the sun shined through the windows and the family came down for breakfast they found a nice big basket of fruits and baked goods. “Strawberries.” Beth ran over as the others girls laughed and rushed down the steps. Each girl looked at different pastries with different flavors, ones that tasted fresh.

“Who’s it from?” Jo asked as she sat down and stuffed her face with a muffin. Hannah smiled and rushed to get something. A few seconds later she walked back in with a vase of flowers that were bright yellow and white. The girls watched her come to the table and set it down in front of Amy.

“From the little lady who came last night.” They all giggled and shouted at her to read the note attached to the case. Amy laughed and tugged it off, ripping it open with no patience. Beth leaned forward at get a look.

“I wish to have you smile once’s more. Until we meet again.” she smiled and blushed. The girls squealed and flooded her with questions and how amazing that was.

All Amy could do was think of you.

[dontcryshopgirl152]

Your Husband Jo

Josephine "Jo" March x Fem!Reader

Summary: For as long as you could remember, you’d had a crush on Jo March. You and Jo are both back home for the summer after getting engaged and married, respectively, and your midnight rendezvous will end with a different kind of union. (2.9K Words)

Notes: Hello! Apologies in advance for any inaccuracies, I'm a very casual fan of Little Woman but a very serious fan of actual women.

This is my first fic, and I hope you enjoy it! This is fun writing practice for me after a long hiatus from the craft, and just a fun way to be more chill with sexuality, so please don't take it super seriously. If you did like it, let me know, I'd love to make more writing friends!

Warnings: Sex! Fingering, scissoring. Some angst (given the whole engaged/married situation, but very light and not mentioned much).

For as long as you could remember, you’d had a crush on Jo March. She was the star you perpetually orbited around, no matter how long you’d been away or how many other dazzling women you met. There was something intoxicating about the way she held a pen, a fork, hell, even a handkerchief; she was so sure of herself. She let herself be clumsy and strong and ungraceful, and she did it all with such confidence.

Over the years, the two of you had become close friends, bonding over a shared love of theatre and long walks and hating the small town you were both stuck in. Living a few doors down didn’t hurt, either; sneaking out at night was easy in the warm summer months, and you had spent many clear nights down by the creek, laying elbow to elbow watching the night sky slowly spin past above you.

She would lay her head on your stomach sometimes when her neck hurt from being bent over her desk too long, and it took everything in you to keep your breathing normal when her cheek rested on the soft, thin cotton of your nightgown. Every once in a while, she would fall asleep there, her head drifting to the side, breath blowing gently up into the curve of your breasts, and your heart would flip in your chest.

Those girlhood summers came and went, and now you found yourself home for a new kind of summer. You had met your fiance while traveling to New York for a visit to your uncle, and he was a kind and gentle man, and soft-spoken, and he adored you. But you’d scarcely gotten to know him before your family deemed it a suitable match and sent you home to prepare, brushing up on all of your wifely duties.

It was on a trip to the post office to send a letter to your betrothed that you see her again. Stepping down from a carriage, blinking into the blinding Massachusetts sun, hand shielding her eyes. The woman’s skirt catches on the step of the carriage, and she has to turn and bend down to free it, revealing a flash of bare skin. You stop in your tracks; Jo never wears stockings, no matter how much her mother harps on her to be proper. She rights herself quickly and turns towards where you stand transfixed. She gasps a little and her face breaks into a wide grin.

“Y/N!” she shouts, dropping the small bag she has been clutching and running towards you at full speed. You drop your envelopes and meet her in a crashing hug. She lifts you easily and spins you around, laughing. When she sets you down, she leans back to meet your gaze.

“It’s been so long, I didn’t expect to see you home this summer. What are you doing here?”

You were just as surprised. Last you’d heard, Jo had married some German professor after moving to the city, and that was three years ago.

“I’m to brush up on house-wife duties before I…” you trail off. You don’t want to tell her you are engaged, it feels wrong for some reason.

Her smile falters a bit. “You are engaged to be married?” You nod.

“That’s marvelous, Y/N!” she grins again, but this time a little too wide, her voice going up a bit too high. “You must let me walk with you later so you can tell me all about it!”

You nod in agreement, then see a man approaching from behind where Jo stands. Tall and lanky, he reaches her silently and simply places a hand on her shoulder.

“Oh, Y/N, my deepest apologies, this is Friedrich Bhaer, my, uh, husband.”

He lifts up a hand to remove his hat, but his gaze never leaves Jo’s shoulder. He swiftly returns his hand to his jacket pocket and looks at Jo expectantly.

“We really must be off, but may I see you later? We can go to our old spot.” Jo meets your gaze again, something wild in her eyes, and you nod.

“Of course, Jo, that sounds wonderful.”

She clasps your hand tightly with her own, and then she is gone.

…

For reasons you can’t fully explain, you find yourself sneaking out when night falls, and your feet lead you to your and Jo’s old spot. Three quarters of a mile into the forest, there is an old, hollow fallen tree that lays beside a quieter stretch of the creek. It is here that you would abscond with old rags and candle stubs as girls, creating a little house in the shelter of the old fir. You would read poems and tidy the fallen branches that fell around the base of the tree, pretending to prepare for company, cook meals, and lounge by an imaginary fire. Now, you sit inside the empty shell and sigh. It’s a clear, warm night, and everything feels hazy and stretched to infinity. You had tried to sleep earlier, but an hour, then two had passed and your eyes still did not grow tired.

You had tried to imagine what being married to your future husband would be like, but it frightened you. You were afraid of exposing yourself to him, having him make love to you. You had heard it was painful from cousins and friends, in hushed conversations overheard around clothing lines and kitchens after dark. You had kissed a boy when you were small and remember it being underwhelming. You thought back to the summers here at the tree, how Jo would gaze up at you from where she lay on your stomach, fingertips dancing over your legs, how your hands would tremble, mouth becoming dry.

You remembered the summer before she left for New York, the last night you shared here at your spot. How she bent her head to your forehead, placing a kiss there. How her hands found the hem of your skirt, gently lifting it up, exposing your legs to the late autumn air.

“I will be your husband tonight,” she had whispered, slipping two fingers into your waiting mouth. You had sucked gently, and those same fingers had guided you to gasping.

Lost in the memory, your hand wanders to your breast, squeezing gently, hoping to replicate the feeling of that night. You had tried so many times since, but couldn't make yourself gasp the way she had that night. You close your eyes and try to remember what she had smelled like, the way the ends of her hair had felt just barely touching your arms.

You jolt out of your reverie when you hear a twig snap a few feet away. You shrink back into the tree with a start, your hands flying away from yourself. Who could have seen you leave? The whole house was fast asleep when you padded out the door. And no one knows where this spot is, it’s off the path and well-hidden by branches.

Suddenly, Jo’s face appears in the opening of the tree. “I thought I might find you here!”

You gasp a little, nervously. “How did you know I would be here?”

She crawls into the tree, her knees scraping along the forest floor to fit inside. “Just a hunch.”

Her hair has fallen out of its braid and flows down her back. She wears a thin chemise and long, flowing skirt, thinning at the hem from wear and tear. You notice with a start that you can see her nipples poking up gently beneath her shirt, and swallow to see their pert attention. You had seen her like this before, but not in years. You bring your gaze back up to her face and she is gazing at you, that same wild look in her eyes as before.

“You’re engaged,” she repeats her earlier question again, softly, sadly. You just nod. “Do you love him?”

You realize you’re holding your breath and let it go shakily. Jo reaches out to grasp your arms, gently but firmly, with all the strength of her lean frame. You jolt a little under her touch, and realize that despite the warm summer evening, you’re shivering a bit.

“I…I do not know,” you concede, eyes flashing down to study the leaf strewn floor. Her grip tightens, nose flaring as she breathes in hard. You have scarcely seen her like this before, she seems nervous and on edge.

“Y/N…” she begins, biting her lip. She rocks forward a bit, seeming to become unbalanced, and you grasp her biceps to help hold her up. She sucks in a breath and you meet her gaze again.

Before you know what is happening, she is leaning in and crashing the soft pink of her mouth against your lips. You gasp a little and fall back into the wall of the tree, and she follows you, pinning you there by your elbows. It takes you a moment to process that Jo March, the woman you have been in love with since you knew what love was, is kissing you. And you are kissing her back, your body seeming to move of its own accord. She lifts her hands from your arms to your face, cradling your jaw in one hand and pulling you deeper into the kiss with the other, tangling it in the hair at the nape of your neck. Your hands fall to her waist and you feel her suck in her stomach at your touch. One of your hands sits just below the hem of her shirt, and you feel the skin of her lower back there, beneath your fingertips. It’s warm and soft and feels electric. Everywhere your skin touches hers is on fire.

She deepens the kiss, pushing her tongue into your mouth, and you grip her tighter, your other hand coming up from her skirted hip to her back, pushing her shirt up an inch higher. She sighs and eases one hand down your neck to the small of your back, and you arch into her at the sensation. She holds you fast and pivots the two of you sloppily to lay you down on the soft leaves below, notching one knee in between your legs and one to the left of your hip. You grunt as you hit the ground and she pulls her face away for a moment.

“Are you hurt?” she asks, her eyebrow knit in concern. She is breathing hard, her face flushed. You smile a bit, dazed.

“No,” you answer, ‘I’m fine.”

“Good.” she sighs. You glance down at her chest again and see her nipples, now straining a bit at the fabric. You realize you’ve bunched it in your hand behind her. You start to loosen your grip, but get a better idea and let your hands wander from her back around to her breasts under the shirt. She realizes what you’re doing and her mouth falls open a bit. She fumbles to remove her shirt but soon her torso is set free, and you watch as her breasts become exposed to the moonlight.

They look so soft, like fallen snow still untouched after drifting into smooth heaps across the fields. Her nipples are starkly darker, and look like small hardened pebbles in this light. She shivers a little at your initial touch, but seems to melt a little into your hands as you work at her breasts, rolling her nipples between your thumbs and forefingers. This elicits a small whimper from her, and you raise your eyes to meet her. She is panting a little now, her mouth still hanging open a little. You look back to her breasts and roll her nipple again with your left hand, more slowly this time. She lets out a low moan and dips her head a bit towards you, eyes closed. You remove your hand and she whimpers, only to gasp when your teeth close around the spot your fingers had occupied. You suck on her and she leans into you, chest heaving beneath your mouth.

“Y/N,” she gasps, a hand shooting up to grasp the nape of your neck and pull you closer. You lavish your tongue on her nipple and use your other hand to massage her other breast, and you can feel her shaking a bit. You pull your face away and look into her eyes again, now just a few inches from your own.

“Be my husband,” you gasp.

In answer, she starts peppering kisses down your neck, slipping the buttons of your nightgown open to reveal your own breasts, already heaving from before she had arrived. She sucks a harsh kiss into the space just below the curve of one, and you suck in a hot breath. She pulls you up to remove the nightgown from your arms and keeps kissing you, warming your skin with her mouth. Your stomach is upside down, and there is a heat in the pit of your core that you know well. You are sure there is a spot on your nightgown where your arousal is pooling beneath you.

“Jo,” you moan, winding your fingers into her hair. “Please, I am begging you.”

She stops and leans back, breasts heaving, hair wild. She reaches a hand up to your lips and you open your mouth to her fingers, two sliding in easily. You loll your tongue around them, sucking gently, and she moans again. She pulls out her fingers with a soft pop and lowers her hand to your stomach, pulling up your nightgown with the other hand to reveal your thighs and now dripping pussy. She grins wickedly.

“My, my, dear wife,” she coos. “What is this?”

You groan at the title. “Please husband,” you pant. “Please, I need you.”

She teases your folds a little. Her spit-soaked fingertips have grown cold in the air, and you shudder and gasp as they meet your hot center. She slips one finger in, then another, up to the second knuckle easily before curling them a bit inside you. You cry out and she smiles again.

“Yes, dear wife, let your husband take care of you,” she whispers huskily. She is thrusting into you now, gently but with a quick rhythm, and you can hear the wet sound of her hand going in and out. It sounds like heaven. You close your eyes and let the feeling wash over you. Jo March is making love to you. Jo March called you her wife. Jo March-

She stops for a moment and you groan in frustration, but the feeling is quickly replaced with fresh arousal as you feel her breath on your clit. She licks you a little, gently, experimentally, and the sound that comes out of you is embarrassingly needy. You slap a hand over your mouth and she looks up at you, a small smile on her face.

“My darling, do not worry,” she says, gently, licking you again. You groan once more, and she meets your gaze. “No one can hear you when you are safe in my bed, dear wife. Let yourself feel my love for you.”

She kisses your clit and begins moving her fingers within you again. You suck in air, but it is never enough, as the fire within you consumes it instantly. You find yourself arching into her touch, words leaving your mouth in an endless stream you have no awareness of as she hurries her hand inside you.

“Oh god, Jo, I love you, Jo, Jo, please, I need-”

“Call me your husband,” Jo hoarsely utters as she sucks in a breath.

“Husband, please, I am going to-oh god.”

She pulls her fingers nearly out of you and adds a third, stretching you. You whine and a sob comes out, the sensation of it overtaking you. Her hand within you is going so quickly you feel you might faint, your heart is pounding in your head. A great light explodes inside of you and you hear yourself cry out, even louder.

She never stops her motion, locking her lips around your clit and sucking while her hands work at you from the inside out. You feel yourself clenching around her and she hums contentedly, making sparks dance behind your eyes. Warmth spills out of you around her hand and you whimper, head swimming. She whispers into your clit in between licks, coaxing your cum out of you as you grasp at her hair, her shoulders, anything to keep you grounded.

As your orgasm subsides, she smiles and leans back, slowing her hand but not removing it. You take a shaky breath and open your eyes, blinking up into the starlight.

She leans up to kiss you gently and removes her hand, relishing the small whine that escapes your lips.

“Jo-” you start, then break off into a small sob. “I cannot marry that man.”

“Don’t worry, my dear wife,” she whispers, brushing the hair out of your eyes. “I will take care of everything.” She leans in and kisses your forehead, then pulls up and cradles you into her. You nestle into her chest, breathing in the scent of her skin mixed with your arousal, floating on the humid air. Your breathing slows as you listen to her heartbeat, the sound of the creek bubbling past, and the soft owl hoots in the distance. You feel safe here in her arms.

She strokes your head gently, whispering how much she has missed you in your ear, how every night she dreamed of coming back to this place and reuniting with you. You sigh contentedly and wish you could stay in this moment forever, soothed to restful sleep by the voice of your husband Jo March.

[feyofmay]

Hello!! I absolutely love your writing and was so excited to see your requests are open!! 💛 I was wondering if i could request a platonic amy march x reader (gn or fem is absolutely fine) with the prompt "i missed you so much". i was imagine maybe reader had been travelling for a while or just hadn't been spending much time with amy recently, and they both miss eachother alot and just have a fluffy reunion! though of course feel free to go whichever direction inspiration takes you!!!! (i also don't mind whether its just best friends or reader and amy are siblings, though i am very biased to the latter)

Even if you don't end up writing this, thank you so much for the things you have written because I'm absolutely in love with them!!!! and of course an extra big thank you if you do write this!!!!

— aubrey!! (@yokolesbianism/aubeystawby) 💛💛

AWWW tysm!! Literally you’re the sweetest & it warms my tiny little heart!! Of course I will write your little request, but I made it a little different. (for flavor ;0)

Word Count: ~800

(not edited, so there’s some grammatical errors. sorry not sorry)

The ache of the youth spent in the twisting thorns of blackberries & dashing madly down dusty paths like deer fleeing from the maw of a greater beast is not felt until, when waking up one morning, her bones are stiff & wooden. As if, if she were to bend her elbow, she could hear a creaking sound from the rusty nail between her two joints. Ever since Amy had left for France to pursue her dream of becoming a great artist,- one who, in her triumphant cries, “would rival Renoir and Boticelli and Thomas Lawrence!”- y/n, the youngest March, has awoken to the splintering ache of an accosted youth.

To say she misses her sisters is an understatement to the highest degree. Everything is far too quiet without the constant chirping of her sisters, a never ending symphony of adolescent conundrums & complaints. Once an eternal twilight, with her sisters playing the role of singing cicadas, the morning had risen with their departure from the best. Several things, which she previously thought were silent, have now shed their fear, & the appliances remind her of her creaking bones with their squeals & whines. The only thing that ever eased her mind was Beth’s piano, a reminder that, although her sisters have grown, she still remains young & a girl.

However, one early morning, the noise of chittering like field mice in a barn snuck in from underneath her door. Like a puppet, her wooden bones acted in the same order that they always have. Planting her feet on the ground, she threw her- well, it was first Marmee’s, then Meg’s, and then Jo found it far too “girlish”, so it was lastly Amy’s- shawl, a soft blue & green woolen piece, to keep herself from freezing in the morning sun.

“Marmee! What’s with all the clamor?” Y/N shouts out as she rubs the last grains of dreams quickly forgotten, a gift from Sandman in the night. Their voice is scratchy like an itchy wool scary as they waddle toward their door. Before Marmee can even consider replying, a shrill squeal fills the house.

“Sister! How I’ve missed you!” the shriek makes the wallpaper curl into itself, & the pounding noise of, what can only be assumed to be, heavy iron weights plummeting onto their creaking wooden stairs grows closer & closer to the half-awake Y/N. Immediately recognizing that voice before she can even register the smell of fresh air streaming in from her open window or the sticky feeling of morning dew on her face, Y/N snatches the door knob & swings it open wildly with reckless abandon.

There, standing before her, in a voluminous, almost cartoonishly large crinoline skirt with tiers upon tiers of ruffles & lace-trimming in differing shades of porcelain blue & silver, her sister & part of her soul, Amy, stands before her like a statue carved from marble & opal. With a toothy grin that reminds Y/N of all the long summer days spent rolling around in the vibrant green grass by the meadow, Any doesn’t waste a second as she barrels towards Y/N & catapults her arms around her little sister, who is unsure if she’s simply still dreaming or actually awake.

“Oh, how I’ve missed you! I’ve missed you so so dearly! All I could think of was how I wished you were beside me. Oh, I’ve so much to tell you! ” Amy rambles on as she digs her face into the nest of locks that rests upon her sister’s head like a rabbit burying into fresh earthen dirt. Curling her fingers around the poofy & seemingly floating sleeves that hug Amy’s sleeves in ways Y/N didn’t know was even possible, the cool touch of the soft, buttery linen kisses her fingers like a distant memory of childhood that’s been lost to the breeze. The fabric leaves a tingling sensation that reminds her of the bells that decorate the Church during Christmas time.

As the folds of linen ripple between her fingers, it’s then she finally feels her mind recenter. The colors around her bloom like the first day of spring, & everything falls into focus. Amy is back. She is real & home & here, in her arms. Slowly, Y/N tepidly wraps her arms around her sister & presses her face into the fabric of her dress. Something hot dribbles down her cheeks, & her silent tears collapse into Amy’s dress. The rust melts off of her joints as she feels her youth soak back into her bones. Her sister, her person, is home.

“I missed you, as well, sister.”

[the-great-imagines-of-1812]

To Love Another pt. 4 (Jo March x fem! Laurence! Reader)

A/N: feedback is appreciated!

taglist: @possumpaws    @my-morning-straightjacket (it wouldn’t let me tag you :/ )

prolouge - part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4

This is one of the things i continued after my writer’s block, so please show this some love :)

~~~~~~

MARCH HOUSE, CONCORD, MASSACHUSETTS

PRESENT DAY, JANUARY 1869

As Jo exits the house, she catches a glimpse at the Laurence house, now so empty and  sad-looking; with it’s shutters closed,it didn’t seem right with neither Laurie or Y/N in it. 

Sighing, she turns her back to it, and wanders into the forest, where she stops by the pond to see an old mailbox. Out of her skirt pocket, she takes out a key with a red ribbon and is transported to a simpler time.

~~~~~~

MARCH HOUSE, CONCORD, MASSACHUSETTS  

LATE JANUARY 1862

“And with this new play, written by our very own Ms. Jo March, will be shown at the Barnville Theater, and it will surpass any other piece in American history!” Meg finished, adjusting her waistcoat and tie. 

Jo stood up on a chair and said “And in it will perform the greatest actress from here to the Mississippi River, Meg March!”

Meg’s cheeks turn red as she brings out a sheet of paper. “Gentlemen, gentlemen. Weekly reports!”

All of the -girls- dressed as gentlemen in this case, groaned. 

“Meg- good. Jo- bad. Beth- very good. Amy- middling.” Meg finished, proudly. She folded the paper. 

“Now now, before our weekly session is over, I have one final decree. I propose that BOTH Laurie AND Y/N join us.” Jo said. 

“But he’s a real boy!” Amy groaned.

“Y/N could join. No boys, although. This is a club for ladies!” Meg finished. 

“I think we should do it! It’s only the twins, what harm could they do?” Beth said, bravely.

As she approached the closet, Jo said “All those in favor say ‘Aye’ .” 

A string of ‘Ayes’ was heard around the attic. 

“And what better time than the present!” Jo said, opening the closet doors.

Both you and Laurie stumbled out. 

“You traitor!” Meg said, feigning anger and shock.

Your brother wrapped an arm around your shoulders and said “Ladies, Ladies. This is purely our strategy.” 

You smiled at Jo and said “It took a lot to convince her!” 

Everyone dropped the facade and laughed at the situation. You slipped out from under Laurie’s arm and dug into your pocket. “As a token of our absolute gratitude, we have this set of keys that opens a little post office by the pond that me and Laurie have made.” You finished, as you handed them out around the room. 

Everyone cheers!

~~~~~~

THE MARCH HOUSE, CONCORD, MASSACHUSETTS

PRESENT DAY, JANUARY 1869

Jo holds the very same key given to her on that day. She opens the mailbox. Nothing is there; of course. Why would there be? Neither you or Laurie have been here in years. 

She shuts the mailbox and goes back home. 

~~~~~~

EARLY FEBRUARY 1862

THE LAURENCE HOUSE

You played the final keys to the song you were playing on the piano, as you closed it after. You hear rushed steps come up to your door, and you turn around. 

“Y/N! you have a visitor downstairs!” Laurie said, resting against the door way. 

“Who is it?” you answered, getting up from the piano and approaching him. 

He smiles. “I can’t tell you. It’s a surprise.” he finished, with a cheeky smile.

“Oh, come on!” you said, rushing past him with your skirts in hand, going down the stairs.

As soon as she heard footsteps down the stairs, Jo turns around and gives you a smile that reaches her ears, and a blush that covers her cheeks.

“Jo! What are you doing here?” You said, bringing her into a tight hug. She took your hand and squeezed it. You laced your fingers through hers.

“I-I was hoping we could go on a walk together, maybe to the creek in the forest?” she said, obviously shying up around you.

“Of course, let me grab my coat!” you said, rushing over to the coat rack and slipping on your coat and hat. “Ready!” 

“You two have fun!” Grandfather said, walking through to the foyer from the hallway. 

“Bring her back by-” Laurie starts. He looks at the grandfather clock at the bottom floor. “5:00 pm?” he says, as he makes his way down the final steps on the stairs. 

“Just in time for supper!” Grandfather chuckled. 

“Will do, Mr. Laurence.”

Laurie opens the door for you two, and immediately, Jo grabs your hand and runs towards the forest. 

After a few minutes, you and Jo reached a small riverbank, where the water was ever so clear, and all you could hear where birds chirping and the water flowing.

“Why’d you bring me here, Jo?” you say, eyes wide at the beauty, scanning the area.

“Because it reminds me of you...so peaceful and er- um- beautiful.” She says, taking off her hat. 

“O-oh, thank you Jo. That’s lovely.” you said, taking off your hat and sitting down on an area clear of snow, leaning back against a tree. 

“Actually-” Jo said, i brought you here for something else. “I-I wanted us to be alone for this.” 

You stand up. “Jo, what are you on about?” 

“I have a confession to make!” she said, clasping her hands over her mouth. 

You swallowed. “G-Go ahead.”

Jo took a deep breath. 

“Sometimes I have the strangest feeling about you. Especially when you are near me, as you are now. It feels as though I have a string tied under my rib to where my heart is, tightly knotted to yours in a similar fashion. And if you go far, I’m afraid the cable will snap, and my heart will forever hurt while your away.”

She takes a deep breath. “Charlotte Bronte, she has always said the most beautiful words. I read this one and thought of you.” 

You approached her “It’s from Jane Eyre. I should know, I’ve read it cover to cover several times. 

She gets closer to you. “S-So i didn’t scare you away?” 

Your face softens “Of course not Jo I-” you take both of her hands, and give them a squeeze, lacing your fingers through them.

You watch her look at you with the entire sky of stars in her eyes, and before you can catch your breath, she leans forward and captures you lips with her own. 

Jo thought that you pull pull away, disgusted at the thought of kissing another woman. But you just leaned in, like it was the most natural thing in the world. 

From a distance, you can hear the bell tower chime, indicating that it was 5′o’clock. 

You both pull away, with a smile. She gives you another peck on the lips before saying “I’ll walk you home.”

As you lace your fingers with hers and walk slowly back to the house, you were dizzy with happiness and love. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This chapter just SCREAMED ‘you are single’ at me. Anyways, please show this one some love as i struggled a bit to write it.  :)

Talya

[yelenaslyubov]

Afternoon Tea Time

main masterlist || amy march || requests

pairing: amy march x female reader

warnings: MINORS DNI (18+) smut, possible homophobia (comes with the time period), mentions of masturbation, fingering

description: you invite amy over to your house for tea while your mother is away, but things take an interesting turn

word count: 4.5k

The spring air lingering about was like a friend of days past. It was cold, yet held a warm feeling within that kissed your skin as you wandered outside. The garden was ever flourishing with new buds of all colors that turned the green into a rainbow of life. It not only looked divine but smelled heavenly as well with its floral sweet scent.

The walk from your home to the March’s wasn’t long, and even if it was, it was completely worth it for the company. All the views on your way there never failed to amazing you with its beauty. The lakes were gleaming, the grass was rustling with the wind, and the birds chirped a joyful late season song that was music to your ears.

Amy was coming over today, but she knew that you liked to walk with her there so she didn’t walk alone. She always insisted otherwise, saying that she could walk herself, but you just wanted an excuse to be around her more than you already were. Little did you know, Amy felt the very same.

Before you made your presence known, you looked down at the maroon dress you were wearing and flattened it down with your hands, trying to make yourself as presentable as you could. No matter how many times you were around Amy, you still got the familiar feeling and actions of making yourself look nice for her. Constantly checking your dress for wrinkles, looking in the mirror to observe your appearance, and trying to force the butterflies swarming in your stomach to subside. The blonde beauty made your blood pressure rise in the best way possible.

You made it to the family’s front door with a happy huff and knocked on the door. You heard the muffled commotion of sound which was normal noise always found at the March’s. The smile on your face only brightened greatly when one of the lovely sisters answered the door.

“Hello! Amy will be down in just a minute,” Meg spoke to you with her signature soft smile.

“That’s just fine,” you said, returning her smile.

“How have you been? Marmee told us all of your new job. It sounds so wonderful!”

“Oh it is! It’s just excellent. I never thought that anyone would be willing to see my work, let alone use it in a real play. It all seems like a dream. Also, tell Jo that I would love to see her work again some time. I thoroughly enjoyed it the last time and I’m sure I would love it just as well again.”

“She would be just overjoyed at that, I know it. I’m so happy for you. I’m glad to see you happy like this, y/n. Ever since your…” Meg trailed off at the last of her words. You brushed her off to continue so she wouldn’t dwell on the subject any longer. It was noticeable when someone would mention your fathers passing that the air became thinner, and faces became melancholy. “But I believe your job is not the only thing making your spirits lift.”

Her smirk held the answer that she was hinting at. Your face slightly reddened at her insinuation. But she was right, Amy was part of the reason you felt happier these days.

“It’s not just you that’s been affected either,” Meg grinned, her words becoming quieter with the fear that Amy might hear. “The past few weeks she hasn’t been able to stop talking of you to us knowing she was going to see you this day. She’s been helping more in the kitchen with Marmee and she’s about to drive us all mad with her incessant humming.”

You giggled picturing Amy humming joyfully around the house. It seemed that she was in the same state as you were. The two of you couldn’t get enough of each other. The sneaking around did become tiresome after a while since only the March sisters knew of you and Amy’s affair. You didn’t dare tell another soul in fear of what might happen. That’s why you kept your meetings one on one only at the others houses. Plus, you both liked it better that way.

Soon enough you heard Amy’s fast but gentle footsteps rushing down the stairs. Her face was flushed with a nervous smile but the same as always, elegant and regal. Always your Amy. You could tell she was wearing a new dress too that brought out her chartreuse eyes. The material was a green plaid pattern and she had a light white sweater draped over her shoulders. There was still a bite in the air when the wind swept your skin just right, so the little warmth it gave her was just enough. And as usual, her hair was wrapped in a delicate updo. No matter how hard you tried to get her to take it down she refused, saying that it wasn’t proper to have her hair tussling about like a child. She would take it back immediately once realizing the state of your hair that was down, curled around your shoulders.

Meg moved away from the door to let Amy pass, and the rest of them left the room to give you both space even though you were leaving. Amy was quick to shut the door behind her, the rest of the sisters trying to contain their laughter as best they could, hoping you couldn’t hear them. They failed miserably.

“Well Miss March,” you started, holding your elbow out so she could link her arm in yours. “Are you ready to have that quality time we hear so much about?”

You and Amy didn’t get to have much alone time together because of your situation. She was busy with her art and teaching lessons, and you with your writing and traveling to and from the city. You both were grown women now, not little girls. This felt like the first deep breath you had taken in some time.

“I very much am. And may I say you look absolutely radiant today.”

You both were walking now and you looked down at her with your cheeks tinted. You leaned into her and placed a kiss in her hair. “Thank you, my love. And you look as stunning as ever. That green brings out your beautiful eyes.”

Her head leaned against your shoulder as a thank you while you continued to walk. It seemed that you were appreciating the sights around you even more now that Amy was by your side. She made everything better and brighter by just being there.

The flowers seemed to open up and show their vivid colors towards the shining sun with proud glory. The rivers rushed faster, the fish swimming in the crystal waters with all the excitement of a hot summers day. Even the small critters pranced around the woods with a pep in their step.

You approached the front door of your house and popped the key into the lock from out of your pocket until the door opened with a creak.

“My lady,” you ushered her inside and she smiled.

She observed the house like it was her first time inside, looking along the paint details on the walls and the framed portraits too. That was one thing you adored about Amy, any room she entered she could spot the art work within and study it with grace. Her fingertips brushed gently on the flowers drawn on, feeling the dip in the paint and the smoothness of the oil.

When she turned around there was an adoring smile on your face. “What is it?” she asked you with a little chuckle.

“Just you,” you said, stepping a little closer. “I really did miss you, Amy.”

Her hands found your face and she rubbed her thumb along your cheekbone. “I missed you dearly too. That was too long to be without one another.”

“I agree. Shall we go upstairs? I can make us some tea first?”

“Is your mother not home?” she asked you curiously.

“No, she’s away in the city and won’t be back for a few more days. It’s just been me here for the past couple weeks.”

“Well why didn’t you tell me? I could have come over and kept you company. It isn’t good shutting yourself up in a house this big alone.”

You laughed. “Such a womanly thing to say, Amy. But I was just fine, I promise. Besides, I enjoy the quiet. It helps me think and write.”

This time she stepped closer to you, only about a foot away. She took a small piece of hair that was laying against your shoulder and twirled it between her fingers. “What were you thinking about?”

You tilted your head at her innocent smirk planted on her face. “You’re too vain, Amy. Do you assume it was all about yourself?”

Her face turned red and she looked down. “No, I didn’t think that. I was just meaning-”

“Amy,” you stopped her and lifted her chin with your finger. “No matter where or when, I am always thinking of you.”

She leaned up hesitantly and quickly pecked your lips. “And I of you.”

You smiled. “So how about that tea? I’ll meet you upstairs?”

“It sounds perfect.”

You watched her part of the way as she walked up the carved wooden staircase. It almost looked as if she belonged there, like this home was just as much of hers as it was yours. You wanted her like this. You wanted this for you both and you would fight to have it.

After clattering around the kitchen for a bit to get the tea ready for the both of you, you began to take the tray upstairs. You first went into the study room to see if she was there with the paintings, but the tall room was empty. You then checked your own room and found her laying on her side, her sweater now discarded, on top of the bed reading some of your work you had on your side table.

“There you are. I was beginning to think you got lost,” you said while closing the door behind you with your heel.

“Only lost in your writing,” she smiled up at you, still skimming through the pages. “These pieces really are amazing. What’s this one about?”

You set the tea tray down on a table by the fireplace and stared at her knowingly. She was testing you because she knew that the writing was evidently about her.

“Oh, it’s about this wonderful woman, you wouldn’t know her.” You chuckled a little as did she as you brought her teacup to her and handed it gently into her hands.

“Thank you,” she muttered, taking a small sip of it and moaning a little at the taste. You turned away quickly to acquire your own cup and to also hide the faint blush on your cheeks. You shouldn’t have such thoughts about Amy, you had too much respect for her, but in times like these you couldn’t help the risqué images from clouding your head.

You sat down in a large and comfy chair next to the fire, trying to warm up a bit from being outside. You stared into the blazing heat, thinking a million things at once, all about the same person. Even as you were turned away from Amy, it was like daggers staring into the side of your head with her green eyes cutting the tension in the room.

“What are you thinking about?” Amy asked, putting your papers to the side.

You sipped some tea again. “I shouldn’t say. If I speak them into existence they may come true.” You turned to face her and gave her a weak smile.

She got up off the bed and you turned your attention back to the fire until you felt and saw her hands placed on either side of you, resting on the sides of the chair. You took another nervous drink of tea, but she took it from your hands and set it back down on the tray.

“Look at me please,” she said seriously.

You did as she wished and your y/e/c met her green. Her stare was so intense you felt as if you should look away at any moment, but there was no way you could. Not now.

“Tell me what you were thinking.” The tone of her voice is what startled you the most. She wasn’t this deliberate with you which made you realize she wanted a legit answer.

“Amy, we shouldn’t,” you answered honestly, staring at her lips, even though you didn’t want to mean it. Your words were whispered, the air from your lungs brushing her lips inches away.

“But you want to?” she tilted her head and you nodded.

Her rough kiss sobered you up in seconds and you kissed her back with all you had. You put everything you were afraid to say out loud into that kiss, hoping that the action would speak for itself. She basked in all your glory and all that you had to offer, which you were willing to give her. Your hands pulled her closer if that was even possible, her soft skin setting off that spark inside you that you so longed for.

Eventually one of Amy’s hands snaked around your waist to pull you up out of the chair. You carefully rose up and stood with her by the fire burning, your bodies still flush against the others. She pulled away and stared up into your eyes with a new look you had never seen her wearing before. Her pupils were dilated and filled with desire.

“Is this what you want?” she asked you, placing her hands firmly on your cheeks and you immediately nodded. “Because you can say no and I will walk away without another word, speaking of this to no one. Or I can stay and we can both face the consequences of what might happen after. Are you willing to do that all for me?”

You studied her serious demeanor and sternly nodded. “I want you, Amy. I don’t care what happens. You are worth everything in my eyes.”

She smiled with the slight quiver of her bottom lip. “You have no idea how much I want you too, darling.” Her lips kissed your cheek delicately, almost as if she was afraid you would break into a billion little pieces.

You inhaled greatly and stepped away from her a little to unbutton the bodice of your dress. Amy’s eyes were locked on your hands working at your top in anticipation. You slipped the long sleeves off easily and placed the clothes on the arm of the chair. You were now only wearing your corset tight around your ribs, your maroon shirt, and thin underdress. Amy was still fully clothed in her pretty green dress, but you would soon change that.

You walked behind her and leaned in close. “May I?” you questioned with your fingers on the top button of her dress, and she breathed out a yes.

Like a beautiful puzzle, you carefully unbuttoned every single one down her spine. You pushed the top off of her down her arms until it slid all the way off and onto the floor. Her shoulders and arms were exposed for you, taking advantage of this and pressing small kisses to the skin there. She hummed at the feeling of your lips on her. The only time you saw her showing this much skin was during the late hours of the night occasionally, but otherwise she was completely covered to your dismay.

You continued working her clothes off, now focusing on the corset that was squeezing her middle. You started to untie and unlace the strings that were intricately weaved back and forth down her back. You saw her sigh of relief when she felt like she could breath again once it was loosened enough. It was loose now to the point she could pull it off too and set it aside while you unhooked her hoop and skirt. She shimmied it off as well, only in her underdress that if you looked hard enough revealed everything you had been internally begging for.

She was turned around to face you now and smiled. “Let me help you now.”

You nodded in response, allowing her to take her time with stripping everything off. You wanted her to savor every item and feeling just the same as you did. She did exactly that. You could feel the shakiness of her breath hitting your skin with each piece of clothing that was being removed and you could practically sense how nervous she was.

Once she had spent her time on you, you faced the blonde and stared down at her hair. “May I do the honors of taking down those gorgeous locks of yours I don’t see very often?”

“Of course,” she chuckled.

You reached behind her head and found the pins holding it up and twisted with your fingers. Each pin was gently removed, more hair falling down each time until it was eventually all free of its hold. Her hair was tussled and almost looked messy but it made you smile even more in this state.

You moved some of the hair away from her face to see her more. “My beautiful, beautiful Amy.”

She leaned into your touch while you pressed a loving kiss to her forehead. You could feel the ruffled nature in both of you, so you felt the need to draw out your events as long as possible. You wanted to make her feel comfortable while being around you, also being that vulnerable in front of you. You wanted to see her in this way and be able to love her in more ways than one.

Your lips met again in the now darkening room with the spring storm clouds moving over the sun. The curtains were drawn shut and the fire was still radiating heat that made your skin feel like it was on fire more than it already was. The kiss was deeper and had more meaning behind it with more clothes shed.

The blind journey to the bed was frantic and needy. Amy collapsed onto her back softly, landing in the middle of the bed with you hovering over her. She whined louder than you thought against your lips when she felt your hand travel up her leg and land on her inner thigh, your thumb tracing the soft skin there. You never thought you would hear such sweet sounds that made you putty in her hands. 

Your hands traveled farther up until the material of her gown was bunched up on your arm. “Would it be alright if I took this off?”

“Only if I can rid you of yours as well,” she smirked and you chuckled back at her, placing a long kiss upon her lips before pulling her gown up. She raised off the bed and let you take the rest of the dress completely off her body. Yours was next and she was quick to lose it right after hers was removed. You were both left in absolutely nothing and it was even better than you had pictured it to be.

You looked down at the lustrous lady under your body and observed her state. Flawless couldn’t even begin to describe what you were seeing. “I’ve never seen someone as beautiful as you, Amy. You’re infinitely ravishing and I adore no one but you.”

She touched your face and stared right into your eyes. “There are no words to describe what I feel for you. You don’t have a clue.”

With that she brought you closer by her hand, right where you both left off. Her lips were everything that you ever needed and you appreciated every movement they made against yours. They were so soft and gentle. She did everything with purpose and this was no different.

Your hand was back down on her bare leg again, making her hips jut upwards. There was a new feeling inside the pit of your stomach that blossomed when you saw her moving so desperately just at your simple touch. You loved how much she reacted to you.

“Amy,” you said, getting her attention while you stopped your movements. “Have you ever…done anything at all?”

“No,” she spoke which came out as more of a breath.

“Have you ever touched yourself?” She shook her head slightly no as her face warmed and she looked down in defeat. You tilted her face back to look at yours with your finger. “My love, it’s okay. I’ll be here through it all beside you. I’ll make sure you feel so safe, I promise.”

“I trust you,” she said which made your heart melt.

“I am glad of that,” you smiled. “Just give yourself to me, Amy, and I assure you I will make you feel so good.”

She whimpered at the sentiment and the fact your fingers were traveling up, closer and closer to where she wanted you. When your fingertips brushed in between her folds, feeling her unfamiliar wet desire, her moans fanned your shoulder. They only heightened when you lightly grazed over her clit, sending her mind spiraling. You knew you could make her feel good, but this was only the beginning, lucky for her.

You went slow since you knew it was a new feeling for her and you wanted her to get used to it. The slow pace was agonizing, but every pleasure filled stroke on her clit brought her closer to the edge she craved. Her hand grabbed onto your waist violently when you gently glided a finger inside her core. You didn’t move it fast, but instead you barely moved it so she could adjust accordingly.

“Does this feel okay for you? I don’t want to hurt you,” you told her in a concerned tone.

“No, no it doesn’t hurt. Just keep going, please,” she begged as those green eyes stared into yours, pleading for anything you could give her in this moment.

You obeyed her wishes and started pumping your finger inside her now, then faster just following. Both her legs absentmindedly opened wider when you continued, giving you more space to work with. Her sounds never stopped, being vocal without the care anyone would hear her. When you felt like she had relaxed enough and had gotten used to the feeling of one of your fingers fucking her, you added another and began to curl them slightly, hitting the wall inside her making her beg for more. Her hips were moving indefinitely now with the movement of your fingers, syncing the rhythm together as to build up her high.

You took the time while she was in this state to observe everything about her that you may never see again in this way. You swore you had never seen her look more beautiful than she did right now with your fingers relentlessly fucking her senseless. Her hair was spread all around the bed in a blonde mess that added to the hotness in the room. Her eyebrows were knitted together in a perfect pattern as her eyes switched from staring into yours and then fluttering closed when the pleasure was too much. Her cheeks were flushed with a rosy red color, the color you now identified as your favorite just because of this moment. Her collarbones that were placed so gently upon her structure as if it were her own personal crown was protruding from her skin making it oh so difficult to not kiss every square inch. You traced the curvature of her breasts with your other fingers, imprinting the image in your mind so you would forever remember it. Her stomach moved wildly as the pleasure overtook her in which you held her hips slightly down to stop her movement a bit.

“Keep going,” she moaned through her pure bliss. “Faster.”

“Whatever you would like, my lady.” She tried to laugh through your actions but the laughter only turned into a whimper as you fucked her faster. You always knew the right pet names to call her to get her all worked up.

She was even closer now and you could tell. You may have never done such a thing with Amy before, but for it being your first time, you sure knew how her body reacted to you and the signs it showed. Her walls started to tighten around your fingers which indicated her reasonable closeness.

“Let go, Amy. I know you want to,” you encouraged her, still keeping your pace fast to hopefully bring her over the edge.

It happened soon enough when she came around your fingers, moaning your name like a prayer. It was a sound you simply would never get tired of, constantly replaying it in your brain to try and chase the feeling of how it sounded the first time coming from her mouth. Through her high, you kept your fingers barely pumping inside her and you kissed her body all over, mumbling all her beauties across her skin to remind her of everything you cared about her.

When her noise subsided, you pulled your fingers out, leaving her core cold. Her breathing was heavy as you noticed her chest fiercely moving up and down because of events now past. You crawled up over her to see her more clearly and study her appearance this way. The small strands of hair that were intertwined across her face were pushed back with your fingers, finally getting that clear view of her blushed cheeks. You couldn’t believe you had just shared a moment so special with someone who meant so much to you. You only hoped you would have more times like these before you both were found out for good.

“Are you okay?” you asked her quietly.

“I am more than okay. That was amazing. You were amazing.” She leaned forward and pecked your lips a few more times, feeling the both of you smile on the others lips.

You slowly lowered yourself down until you were half laying on her. You pressed slow and meaningful kisses on her neck and below her ear. She giggled at the feeling and folded her shoulder to her ear as it tickled a bit. You laughed at her and adored everything about her. You wanted to stay this way forever and never face the outside world. You raised your quilt over both of you so you had the option to stay weaved together for as long as you pleased.

If you had a choice, you would cradle Amy in your arms for eternity, whispering everything you wanted her to hear. She deserved to be appreciated for the strong beauty she was and you wanted to be the one to do that for the rest of your lives, if time and society would allow it.

Her skin against yours was all you needed to switch back to reality and realize that all you wanted was right here in front of you.

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[imkittyjustkitty]

Kitty's Daily Pride — Day 2

prompt ; love letter

pairings ; Jo March x Reader

summary ; You're in love with Jo March and it feels like home.

+ reader is gender neutral & no mentions of y/n

warnings ; none once again , just jo loving hours <3

genre ; fluff

word count ; 324

A/N ; here's some jo march content !!! it's not really a narrative but rather reader gushing about jo <3 (hence the love letter correlation !!) feeling alot like this is my comfort zone for writing so you will see more of this, but also different things so i can step out of my comfort zone and create more <3

do not steal, repost, or redistribute my work in any way.

Love had always been described to you as this powerful feeling of butterflies in your stomach and short desperate breaths, of anticipation and nervousness around your lover. That to you, did not sound like love but rather an odd and cruel punishment, it sounded horribly overwhelming and uncomfortable. Why feel nervous with your heavy heartbeat around your lover when you could look in their eyes, and feel your heartbeat soften and your chest grow warm. that’s what you felt with Jo.

You looked at her and felt the world slow and a puzzle piece fall into place, you felt at home. Jo was your person and you were hers. The love you felt for her was everything and her presence made you whole. She smiled and you smiled with her, she laughed and you couldn’t keep your eyes off her gleeful expression.

Every second you spent with Jo was like the feeling of falling asleep in a field of flowers as the sun sets on the horizon. Your breathing wasn’t restricted when she was near, your heart didn’t try to push out of your chest whenever she looked at you.

Your body didn’t tell you to be scared of Jo March, it told you that she was your home and that there was no comfort like being held in her arms. It told you that looking in her eyes, watching her as she did what she loved, was something that gave you unparalleled joy.

You were in love with Jo March, you were aware of it the moment you first spoke to her. Jo March was someone you could never grow tired of, someone you could spend your days and nights listening to, listening to her talk and talk about whatever interested her. You wanted nothing more than to grow old with Jo, the woman who your love for would only ever continue to grow and grow.

Jo March, the love of your life.

reblogs are appreciated so much !!