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slasherscream · 8 months

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my girl can wear whatever she wants tiers please for crazy ass boys gang!!!

CRAZY ASS BOYS GANG + MY GIRL CAN WEAR WHATEVER SHE WANTS TIERS

❥ my girl can wear whatever she want cause I can fight ❥

Billy Loomis - When you look particularly good his arm might as well be glued to your waist. He's both possessive and protective. He hates the way everyone's eyes devour you, but can't help how prideful it makes him either. Yeah, you want her. Of course you want her. Everyone does. But only I have her. God help the idiot that's stupid enough to open their mouth and not just look.

Jordan Li - They love watching you put your outfits together. They make suggestions from your bed, glancing up at you every few minutes. They can't help it. Their eyes are drawn to you permanently. No matter how crowded the room they can find you in a second. Whenever there's a party Jordan loves watching everyone try to sneak quick glances at you. They jump like rabbits when they wind up meeting Jordan's eyes and watch that smile that Jordan only wears around you fall back into the usual scowl. No one wants to be caught staring at Jordan's girl.

Arvin Russell - It's not possible for you to feel fear in public when you're with Arvin. You could be wearing straight lingerie in the most dangerous city in the world at 2 am and be safe. He's not just ready to protect you but hungry for it. Every time he proves he'll fight till his knuckles are bloody and bruised over you he watches you walk a little more confidently. Shine a little brighter. Knowing that he's there to protect you has only made you more yourself every day. And Arvin? He's obsessed with the transformation that the safety net of his fierce protection has ignited within you.

Jason Dean/JD - You wish he'd only fight people over what you're wearing. Unfortunately, this is not the case. JD pulls out a gun. Not every time, granted. Just a large majority of the time. In his defense, how is he supposed to act when someone has the audacity to cat call you? Do you expect him to just watch and not care as you experience that brief shiver of fear that runs up your spine when a man whistles at you before following it up with even more salacious words? If you feel fear, he'll make them feel fear. Simple.

Sparrow!Ben Hargreeves - If someone is stupid enough to not recognize him before they say anything to you about what you're wearing they will quickly recognize the tentacle wrapped around their throat. "Apologize." He hisses through gritted teeth, increasing the pressure, knowing just how much strength he can use before it would break their neck. How he ever expects anyone to apologize to you with a giant tentacle wrapped around their wind pipe you don't know. This is the second time this month. You're running out of night clubs you're not banned from.

David Mccall - You walk out of the house with the confidence that only someone who's done 12 tours over seas should have. But no, you just have a boyfriend who is incredibly scary. You've watched him almost break a man's hand for brushing it against yours at a crowded bar while he reached for his drink. You don't even think before you throw on an outfit anymore.

❥ my girl can wear whatever she want because she a hoe and I knew that before we started dating ❥

Josh Washington - Could he fuck someone up if needed? Yes, but he feels no need to. As long as you're not in danger or being disrespected Josh loves the way you express yourself through your look. You're hot and beautiful, of course you wear stuff that's short or tight, or both. If he looked like you he'd do the same thing. People don't usually say anything to you anyways, since he's always pressed to you like a second skin. He's not a jealous guy, but he is a chronic clinger.

Stu Macher - Is probably the person wolf whistling you in the first place. Points at you from across the room when you're talking to other people and says, "That's my girl right there. She's smoking, right?" He will always be smug he pulled you and NEVER shut up about it. The more wild you dress the more smug he gets. People can look all they want. But you only want him. What's there not to brag about?

Kevin Khatchadourian - Kevin above anyone else would thoroughly understand your psyche before dating you. He's involved with you because, somehow, you intrigued him against all odds. He already expected and predicted with near perfect accuracy every step of the relationship. Skimpy outfits are not throwing him. Can he fight? Yes. But, frankly, if someone pisses him off by hitting on you swinging on them is not gonna satisfy him. He's more of a "put their fingerprints at a crime scene so their life is ruined" type of get back. If he decides not to kill them.

Sebastian Valmont - Sebastian is the one buying you more hoe clothes. He loves your style and is not insecure. If either of you wanted someone else, you could go get them. But you two were practically made for each other. He wants to show you off. Is never going to be the type to try and dull your shine. He wants to walk into a room with you and have jaws drop from the deadly combination of the way you look together. He thrives off of seeing how much people want you. Knowing how futile it is. How hopeless. He pulls you tight into his side and grins like the devil himself (also, and this knowledge is of utmost importance, he cannot fight for shit.)

❥ my girl can wear whatever she want cus I’m scared of her ❥

Nathan Prescott - Is possessive, jealous and insecure enough to absolutely want you to change what you're wearing. With anyone else he'd even be bold enough to tell them to change. You are not anyone else, though. You are you. Considering every other behavior you tolerate from Nathan on a monthly, weekly, daily, and hourly basis you would snap on him like a twig if he tried to bring one more red flag on board. He knows this. You know this. When you slide on your low rise jeans and the tiniest crop top known to man, you make eye contact with one another in the mirror. He looks away first. You go back to peacefully fixing up your hair. Upside, no one is crazy enough to actually hit on you when you're at parties held on campus together. Which means Nathan won't have the cops called on him. Hooray!

#crazy ass boys gang #billy loomis x reader #jordan li x reader #stu macher x reader #josh washington x reader #arvin russell x reader #jd x reader #kevin khatchadourian x reader #sebastian valmont x reader #david mccall x reader #ben hargreeves x reader #nathan prescott x reader #tiers are so fun you should all send more #kevin jordan and ben kinda showing they crazy in this one adjkl

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gretavanlace · 1 year

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Valtava

Josh Kiszka x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual content, unprotected sex, pain during sex (this is handled gently and lovingly) language, dirty talk, etc.

Everyone thank our dear @jake-kiszkas-smirk for the scene where his head is resting on her stomach. I’ll say no more to avoid spoiling it, but it’s delicious and it was her idea that she so kindly left in my hands. Thank you, you filthy genius, you. I love you madly. Also, I no longer remember who to credit for this pic of Josh, it’s been in my camera roll so long. But I couldn’t not use it for this…that’s dangerously close to sacrilege.

“This scene right here,” Josh speaks over Ray Liotta’s musings, one arm stretched across the back of his couch, the other bent to stroke his thumb along your jawline, absently “This is where Scorsese really stretches his wings. Here we are, watching the heinous discovery of murder after murder while Layla, a song about love and lust, lulls us. We feel both safe and shaky.”

His fingers now wind through your hair, relaxed and warm, with your head in his lap. “I think it serves as a reminder that even ugly can dip its toe into the waters of beautiful, if you squint hard enough.”

He pauses and talks over his own stream of thoughts, “Well, most ugly things, anyway. Someone saw these murders as a necessary evil. Something to ensure the world they had built for themselves, for their families, stayed clean. Someone went home and slept a little easier knowing there was one less heart beating out there ready to turn state's witness on them.”

You nod and hope for him to keep going. The way his mind works fascinates you, as does the unique lilt of his tone, and the excitement that sharpens his gaze when he is ruminating on something that really spins the wheel for the hamster in his brain.

Catering to your unspoken wish, he carries on, “And maybe even the victims were in on the method to the madness, y’know? They chose the life they chose, they understood how quickly loyalty and love can shape- shift into survival and self preservation. Layla helps the audience understand. It marries the beauty and the bloodshed for the people in the seats.” he shakes his head in wonder. “It’s fucking genius.”

“Thought your brother was the big Marty fan?” You ask, studying the perfect cupid's bow of his lips from below.

“Jake?” His eyes are on the screen, but his focus is on you. “Tarantino. I dig the use of his nickname, though. Marty. It makes it seem as if you have him over for dinner regularly.”

“Maybe I do.” You tease.

You earn a smile, but still not his gaze. “And what do you serve?”

Adopting a tone of nonchalance, you shrug, “Usually, we make love until dawn and then share cold spaghettiOs right out of the can.”

“Ah,” He nods seriously, “the opulence. It’s all very grand.”

A comfortable silence wraps itself around you both until you have a thought that pokes to be shared.

“Do you suppose Scorsese might have chosen Layla because of the double-edged sword it also happens to be as a piece? Since Clapton wrote it about his best friend's wife?” You feel a blush heat your cheeks, and immediately wish you hadn’t contributed. He knows so much about film and you know so little.

True to Joshua-form, however, he hushes your unease effortlessly. “Shit! I’d never even considered that. The beauty for Clapton was the ugly for Harrison. God, I’m so in love with the way your mind sees everything that’s invisible to mine.”

I’m so in love with…

He means the ideas in your head, the quiet corners of your thoughts, but it quickens your heart and nudges the butterflies in your stomach to life, nonetheless.

So, you pull yourself up, a thigh nestled on either side of his waist in the blink of a breath.

“Hi.” You long for the timid smile dancing shyly on your lips to morph into something sultry. Something sexy. Something that might flicker the darkened flame, that hides down deep in his belly, to life.”

“Hi.” He grins back, allowing you to wiggle around until you’re comfy in his lap. “If Goodfellas is boring you, I stand zero chance of keeping you entertained, baby love.”

Your fingers worry over the beads looped around his neck and then twist into the soft pink linen of his shirt, finally coming to rest at the button fastened nearest to his throat. Your eyes travel over him, hungry to soak him in. To tuck this image of Josh, so quietly content with you perched above him, away in your heart…a pretty picture to revisit when he inevitably becomes a memory.

What is he thinking? That question seems to occupy your mind more often than any other. He is an enigma. A mystery parading as wide open sunshine.

Intrusive thoughts, cruel and unrelenting, silently bully you. You’ve become quite adept at ignoring them over the years, opting for at least some semblance of normalcy in your quest for a happy, healthy life. Whatever that means.

But these thoughts in particular are cloaked in far too much truth…too many signs pointing to the worst being the obvious…to be easily disregarded.

You want to say these things to him. If only to bask in the assurance you might catch in his reply. But to risk the absence of said reassurance, is a feat too great.

Instead, you begin a tentative roll of your hips as you lean in close to meet his pillowy lips with your own. He tastes of mint, and the IPA he has been nursing, and Josh.

Like always, he indulges the kiss, but stills your hips, and you long to vanish into thin air, leaving nothing more than a coiling wisp of smoke in your wake. The rejection comes with a throbbing ache in your chest. Is your heart truly breaking? Now you’ll be forced to offer it to him in pieces.

And he isn’t the only one to indulge in old habits, because, also like always, you crawl into the safe embrace of humor. “You’re right, Joshua…you’re boring me. Back to the brilliant mind of Marty, my beloved.”

You slide off of him and stretch back out on the couch, focusing on the screen to hide your tear glossed eyes as he gets comfortable behind you.

“Scorsese, you bastard,” he shakes his fist in mock indignation, “how dare you steal the affections of my woman?”

A forced laugh comes out sounding a little too close to a sob. You play it off as best you can. Nothin’ to see here.

Alas, he catches it. And, of course, he won’t leave it alone, though you certainly ask him too.

“What is it, baby? What’s wrong?” He turns you toward him, hovering over you as you lie on your back and long to melt away. “Talk to me.”

“I just— I mean,” death seems of great comfort. “Is it me? Do you not… are you not… am I not pretty enough? Or sexy enough? Or… I don’t know,”

A frown of deep concern furrows his brow as his palms move to cup your face, “What? Are you not…Jesus, baby, of course you are. Fuck, if anything you’re too much. Too pretty, too sweet, too smart, too sexy.”

Your words come quiet and small, quivering with painful vulnerability “Then why?” You close your eyes, and thankfully, he allows you to hide this way.

Exactly what you knew would happen, happens. He lies without lying. “Why, what?” He sounds of feigned confusion. He knows what you mean.

Throat now constricted and pulsing with a wringing pain, you close your eyes tighter, unwilling to bear witness to whatever lie will follow his last. “Why don’t you want me?”

A tear breaches the dam you had hoped was impenetrable. You loathe and curse it.

“Hey, shhh…don’t do that. Don’t cry.” He brushes the tear away and then kisses over the path it took.

“Don’t cry?” You snap. A twinge of regret flares to life within you. You’ve never spoken to him unkindly, and could it be that there’s no going back? Perhaps this is it; the end of the road you’ve been heading inevitably for.

To your great surprise, he laughs. You crack an eyelid open to find it sincere. “So, she’s capable of something other than sugar, spice, and everything nice, after all.”

His hand smooths down your chest - can he feel the violent rattle of your heart as it thrums and beats out of control?

When at last he speaks, there is an edge to his tone you’ve never heard before. It warms you clear through to your curling toes “You think I don’t want you?”

You shrug, all pink cheeks and complete ineloquence.

“Well,” he soothes, drawing gentle patterns upon your temple and forehead, “you should know, that is far from the case.”

But, rather than take the moment further, as he so easily could, as you so desperately want him to, he sinks into an innocent position - resting his cheek on your stomach as you struggle to keep it from rising and falling too rapidly, his eyes, once more, on the screen.

The film drones on; mafia murders and cocaine swirling down flushed toilets. Betrayal and 20/20 hindsight…

…and on you watch, on the surface - in reality, you can think of nothing else other than the weight of his head on your stomach.

There is a dull ache there, inside you, gripping at every nerve ending all at once. He knows what you want, and he very obviously doesn’t want the same thing. He doesn’t want you.

He speaks first, and there’s too much truth in it. He knows you too well. “I need you to stop that.”

“Stop what?” You stupidly offer a tiny shrug, but for what? He isn’t even looking at you.

“Your walls, I can feel you stacking bricks. Stop, or I’ll take a wrecking ball to them.” he pets over your forearm comfortingly. It doesn’t help.

“Alright, Miley,” you toss the joke out like a life preserver for yourself. “Just don’t start licking sledgehammers and we’ll be alright.”

He gives you the softest laugh. It more closely resembles a sigh, “Is it only sledgehammers that you are opposed to me licking?”

Oh.

When he coolly pushes your shirt up and begins dragging his lips, licked slick and warm, around your belly button, you think you might burst into tiny, burning, longing, pieces. God, how you want him.

“You like that, baby love?” He speaks the words melodically into the room like a lullaby, hushed as a priest absolving you of your sins in a darkened confessional.

A whiny hum is all you seem capable of, but it doesn’t look like it matters much to him.

“Yeah?” He’s teasing now, and you think it might kill you. Your hips begin a barely perceptible rock in response. “Can I touch you, sweetheart? Do you want that?”

“Josh, please,” his name is less than a whisper. It’s a plea gasped into the dark, dancing with the flickering glow of the tv as it blinks and changes like lightning.

The warmth of his hand between them causes your thighs to twitch and tremble, but he hovers just above making actual contact. “God, look at you. How could you ever doubt how much I want you? So pretty. Can I touch you here, baby? My pretty, pretty girl.”

With a soft moan, you lift your hips, pressing into his palm. He doesn’t push for words, your body has given him all the consent he needs, and the want in your eyes reiterates.

His mouth is wandering your soft, flushed, stomach as he slides your pants away, gentle and sure, the tip of his tongue bridging the distance between his kisses.

Your hands weave down into his wild curls, comforted by the way they wrap themselves into your touch, spiraling around your fingers as you tug at them and tenderly scratch over his scalp. A particularly sweet drag brings a shiver to life on his shoulders. He groans in appreciation and runs away with another piece of your heart.

“Oh, fuck,” you murmur, surprised and grateful, when at last, he sinks a single finger into your warmth.

Should you at least have the decency to feel shy about the sound it makes? About the way you must be soaking his skin? Perhaps. But you don’t, and judging by the curse he secrets into the still of the night, there isn’t any reason to.

“Does that feel good?” He isn’t taunting you, it’s a genuine question, but there is a hint of a teasing tone there as well, peeking out from around the edges of his words and you think it might just be the sexiest thing you’ve ever heard.

“So good.” You’re whining and writhing beneath him, tiny pouty huffs of breath tumbling off your lips over and over…but you don’t care about that either.

His finger slips out and you mourn it pitifully, until it swirls around your swollen clit, tearing a shaking cry out of your chest. And then, there it is again, filling you as his thumb begins a slick trail of tight circles just right.

“You want more?” Oh god…the way he sounds, the way you feel. He’s setting you further and further on fire with his gentle, decadent, prodding. With his breathy, gingerly obscene questions. Flames - scorching and crackling - lick up inside you. Incinerating as they consume.

“More?” He asks again, rasping the word, wantonly urging you on.

“Yes!” You nod frantically, spreading your legs further. You want him, need him, so badly…coveting the very breath in his lungs for its privilege of being inside him in a way you’ll never know. You long to trickle down into his pores and vanish.

A second finger - they feel longer than they have ever looked - joins the first and then begins a perfect, guiding, curl.

Tucking into that perfect place inside you, he fucks the pads of his fingers against it ever so carefully. Gently spinning your head in every direction.

He rests against your belly as the muscles inside churn and flex beneath his ear, watching intently as his hand fucks away at you. He wonders what it might be like to stretch you to almost breaking. How it would feel to push another finger inside, and then another, and another. When would you tell him to stop? Three? Four? Could you take that burning stretch? Would you relish it and ask for more? Fuck, he hopes so.

But you feel so tight around him…just two fingers full and you’re squeezing like you’ll never let go. He worries, and the pounding pulse of neglect that aches rhythmically in his cock, reminds him that he worries rightly so.

He has always believed you to be the most beautiful thing his eyes have ever had the pleasure of landing upon, but he’s never seen you like this - spread open, soaked and puffy with want. With need…for him. It doesn’t seem possible.

The way you move…fluidly, like ripples chasing over the surface of a placid lake, urging him along with your body. Your gorgeous cunt sucking his fingers in. A goddess, a beckoning siren, an angel…he can’t look away.

Can’t until he hears it, until he feels it, how close you are. Wild, frothing, horses couldn’t keep him from the gift of watching your face as you fall apart. An army of men wouldn’t stand a chance. He wants this moment with you, and he will have it. He wants to make you cum, and he wants to watch your eyes go blurry with it, and so watch he will.

“C’mon, baby…” he goes breathless when his face tilts up to meet yours. You are flushed and panting, lips parted. The soft pink of your tongue just barely visible, blushing like saltwater taffy in your mouth and he wants to lick against it, wants to taste you.

The smallest blips of a sound he can’t describe chase each other out of that beautiful mouth he wants to kiss so badly. Tiny uh’s that shift into gasps of desperation. You’re right there, and he wants it more than you do.

With his bottom lip caught between his teeth, he eases his chin into the softness just below your navel, creating a delicious pressure, and crooks his finger so perfectly, pressing and stroking until it feels like you’re floating and the only thing holding you in place is him.

It is celestial. He is every constellation and you are the astronomer, feet held to the ground by gravity, eye pressed against a telescopic lens hopefully, frantic for a glimpse of his wonder.

There is only Josh.

“Almost there, pretty girl,” he nods, gaze glossed with lust and something that looks like love. “You gonna give it to me?”

You are. You’re going to give it to him. You couldn’t stop it now if you tried. Fluttering walls trap him inside you as his stare fixes, unmoving and heated, with yours.

“That’s it, baby love, that’s it.” He urges you on, leads you deeper and deeper, those long, warm, perfect, fingers working you like he’s been there a thousand times before. “Shh, you’re alright. I’m right here, just breathe for me.”

That’s all it takes for you to realize your lungs are burning for a breath you’ve been unknowingly denying them - and with that hissing, hungry, gasp for air, you explode under him.

He watches, mezmorized, as your eyes roll back, teeth clenched like some ethereal, feral creature. It bursts out of you, clear and shimmering, like liquid diamonds, but you don’t know it yet, he can tell…you’re too far gone, and he fucking loves it. He fucking loves you.

He has said it aloud. I love you, sweetheart. I love you so much. I love you.

But that’s the thing that he doesn’t know yet because he’s also too far gone.

You’re quiet, gentle. Sweet, whining whimpers floating out of you as you vibrate and spill.

On your end, you hear the confession of how deeply his feelings run, but you don’t register…it will settle in later and you’ll weep for not saying it back. Though you don’t need to, he knows.

Once you’ve settled, he pushes up until you are eye to eye, lapping your release off his fingers. You’re sweet enough to lick off a whisk like cake batter, and he tells you so…but you can focus on nothing but the shining glint of you that he wears so well.

Shocked by the sheer amount, you blush hard and hot. Burning brighter still when it drips from his hand and lands on your lip. In an act you don’t seem aware of, you lick it away like a raindrop. The very sight of it, the somehow still innocent depravity, weakens him until he is forced to swallow a whine.

“Had I known what I was missing,” he grins lazily, “I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself.”

The confusion sends you crashing back to reality.

“But why stop yourself at all?” Your eyes are so wide and clear. It makes him want to gather you up and keep you safe.

Once more, it crosses his mind that you’re an angel. He wonders where your wings have gone.

“Because, I—“ he falters, shaking his head as if he might rattle his thoughts into place. Finally, he opts to show, not tell, pressing his hips against yours so you can feel him.

And feel him, you do, but only for a moment. He’s so hard you’re cozy from the heat of it through the sweats he was lounging in when you arrived.

You’ve noticed. Of course you have. You’ve stolen a glance or two when he wasn’t looking. How could you not? You’d just always thought, and not to be crass, you’d always just assumed he was a shower, rather than a grower.

Now you aren’t so certain. He felt massive during the short amount of time he was rocking into you.

“You’re thinking very hard, baby love.” He smiles down at you. “Are those thoughts in my favor, or…?”

He trails off and awaits your answer with that Josh-like patience. Rather than speaking, you curl your hands around the waistband of his pants and then cast your eyes up, in silent question.

Nodding the go ahead, he continues watching you closely…studying your reaction as you tug him free.

“Oh, fuck,” the expletive sighs out of you as the tip of his cock - leaking, angry and swollen - slaps up, well above his belly button, with a solid thump.

He’s big. So big. Long and thick, beautifully shaped. Blushing pink at the head, and visibly pulsing under your awestruck scrutiny. You absently wonder how he isn’t light-headed for the amount of blood it must require to bring him to such full attention.

“I didn’t want to hurt you.” He explains softly, finally letting you in on the secret of why he’s been so skittish, “And I didn’t want to…”

His confession loses traction as he watches your mouth rather than meeting your gaze.

Your palms reach for him, cupping his angelic face with as much gentleness as the renewed desire racing through your veins will allow. “You didn’t want to what?”

While he searches for the words, you curl your thighs around him and pull him in, moaning out his name like a mantra when you feel him against you, skin to skin.

“God damn, baby…” he rocks his hips closer to yours and then remembers what he’s doing. “I didn’t want to scare you. And I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Yeah, you said that.” You tease, trying to lighten the heavy load of his anxiety.

“I know.” His mouth meets yours, searching out a slow, needful kiss. “But I kept imagining hurting you, and you being too sweet to say so. I’m still imagining it.”

Your tongue licks into his mouth as you wrap your fist around him. “Look at you, Josh,” you smile shyly through a kiss that is anything but shy. “My fingers don’t even touch.”

“Grew up under some power lines.” He teases, relaxing as he pecks along your jaw.

“I want you inside me.” You sound despondent, and feel just as forlorn, the look in his eye warns you may have a fight on your hands.

“Pretty girl,” he tucks himself away and begins kissing a slow, serpentine trail down your body after he flutters your shirt, indicating he wants it off. “I could barely get two fingers in your sweet little pussy. Why don’t you just let me kiss it? Don’t you want to cum on my tongue, hmm? Won’t that feel nice?”

Such filth is a captivating development, and one you like very much…but, you stop him all the same. Grabbing him by the hair with enough force to tilt his head back, pulling his mouth away from your straining nipple, you issue a demand you intend to make sure he fulfills, “I said, inside, Joshua.”

He raises an eyebrow and suppresses a grin of dirty glee. “Joshua?”

Ignoring him, you watch as he licks the pad of his thumb and then arch away from the cushion when he begins a steady, swirling journey over your clit with it. “Gonna make you cum first, love. Again and again. I’m gonna baby this gorgeous cunt until my name is the only word you want in your mouth…and then I want you to fill my mouth.”

“Jesus, Josh…” you’ve never wanted anything more, but you can hardly force the words out to convey just how fucking agreeable you are.

“You want that?” He flicks over you faster and faster, indulging in your pouty, needy cries, praying they never end. “You want to cum in my mouth? Feed me something sweet?”

“Easy, baby love,” he coos, whispering to you like you’re a tiny, broken bird, fallen from the nest and afraid. “You’ve got to relax a little more for me.”

“Yeah…” you nod, staring up at him as if he painted your entire world into existence. And maybe he did.

No longer able to count the number of orgasms he’s gifted you with, you feel like liquid silk. Or clay in his palm, happy to be molded to his liking.

“Yeah?” He drops a kiss onto your forehead and pushes in just a hint further, eyes darting up when you hiss with discomfort.

You offer a smile for him to continue and he returns it gently, but the way he’s fighting for breath betrays him. He wants you badly, he’s going slowly mad with the need to bury into your body to the hilt.

His fingertips skate a ticklish trail down the curve of your waist and then grip into your thigh, spreading you open a bit wider.

Both bare now completely to each other for the first time, you’ve given yourself over right there on the couch. The room is silent, save for hushed words and choked breaths twisting languidly through the air, the movie long since over.

He’d wanted to carry you off to the bedroom, but you refused.

You want him here. You want him now.

Palm cradling the back of your head, he brings you forward until your mouth is sucking at his shoulder. “Just like that, sweetheart. Good girl.” His praise flips your stomach. A violent somersault of carnal need. “You just suck and bite all you want. I’m gonna take care of you. You know that, don’t you?”

Nodding urgently against him, you’re far too interested in the marks you're leaving against his overheated skin.

“Words for me, okay?” He coaxes so gently it makes your chest ache.

“You’re going to take care of me.” You mumble through a long lick along his collarbone.

Without reply, he slides in deeper, yet still not much more than the tip rests inside you.

A shocked cry escapes you before you can stifle it and his face snaps up, searching your own for tells of pain that he doesn’t have to look all that closely for. “Baby,” the pet name sings out of him, a soft crooning apology. “Let’s stop, I…”

“No, please!’ The frantic want bubbling up inside you colors your voice and surprises you both, but he masks it well.

“Hush, love. No one’s stopping yet.” he soothes, massaging your hip carefully. Just wisps of touch, but you relax beneath it like a sleepy babe cradled up snug and safe.

You’re not fond of that ‘yet’ he tacked on to the end of his promise.

“Deeper.” Your hips lift, forcing his hand while you gulp down another sound of discomfort.

“Don’t.” His grip is suddenly digging into your waist, no longer careful, but swift and insistent instead. “Let me take my time. Let me be gentle. I don’t want to hurt you.”

He’s right, and you tell him as much as he begins a slow, stuttering journey. Starting and stopping as you writhe with impatience and uncomfortability in his capable hands.

Reaching up, he guides your fingers down until they brush over your sensitive clit. “You take care of this for me, okay, baby? Help me make this easier for my pretty girl…I can’t stand the thought of hurting you.”

“Please, Josh…” you sound a mess, and who gives a damn? “Please!”

You’re right, it’s time. He knows it better than you do. He can wait no more. There isn’t far to go anyway.

Suddenly, with one firm thrust, he drives in all the way to the base, shuddering as you coil around him like a hot, wet, fist. Squeezing harder and tighter and fuck….

“So fucking tight.” He is trembling, fighting the urge to let go already. “It’s like you don’t want to let me go. Pussy so pretty and soft. Like the sweetest thing all dressed in pink. Aren’t you fucking gorgeous?”

Your eyes drift closed, breathing through the last remnants of the biting sting. You’re so full, it feels so good. So right. So completely perfect, you cannot begin to fathom how you’ve lived all these years without him inside you.

“Say it.” He sounds like an angel clawing his way closer and closer to something he can’t survive without any longer.

“What?”

“Tell me you’re gorgeous.” He’s fucking you faster now…and it stings, but it hurts so good you want to feel the burn forever. “Say you’re my beautiful girl. Come on, I wanna know that you know.”

“I—“ your face flares as pink as the cunt he’s currently locked inside

“That’s it, baby love…” he coaxes, pumping into you with long, torturous strokes. “C’mon,”

A little less tentative now - he effortlessly makes you believe - the words finally come “I’m gorgeous.”

He smiles so wide his nose crinkles as he nods and dips his lips to meet your own. “Fuck yes you are. My pretty girl. You’re doing so well, look at you. Just taking and taking and taking me.”

Pulling you up and away from the pillow gently, he guides your line of sight to the sinful image of him gliding in and out of you. His cock, glistening and covered in your unbridled desire - it catches the light and steals your heart. Is it possible to be in love with a cock? Or are you just in love with the man who wields it?

Both. Most definitely, both.

“Look, baby, look…” a quivering huff escapes him. “It’s like coming home. Being inside you is like coming fucking home.”

“Harder,” you beg, winded and lost. He feels so good inside you. Stretched further than you ever thought possible around him, you clench and twist a fist into the throw pillow beneath you until your fingernails threaten to rip it open.

“Just…fuck,” his pretty face buries itself in the crook of your neck with a whimper as he falters. “Just a little.”

The room is hazy and blurred, filled with sounds neither of you can seem to quiet. Each moan and breath filling your head up until you feel feverish. Every groan and gasp pushing him closer and closer to the edge.

Your bodies meet in a sweat glazed dance that causes your teeth to grit together - biting down hard to suppress a scream that he might confuse with pain.

He tucks his own teeth into your throat deeply, growling out a melodic sound that sets you on fire, when the salt of your skin hits his tongue.

A shaky, “I’m gonna cum, baby love…where, baby, where?” Pants out of him with a desperate urgency the moment he releases your skin from his bite.

“Inside…” you plead, clawing at his waist as your thighs lock him in close. “Cum inside me…c’mon. Please,”

“Pretty girl begging for my cum. Begging me to ruin this beautiful little cunt…” he sounds as if he’s talking to himself, like he’s trying to convince himself that you’re real.

“Ruin it, baby,” your palms drift up his back, slow and steady…urging him along gently. “Ruin me.”

A sound so exquisitely angelic rumbles up out of his chest. Deep and primal, but somehow gentle and submissive, like he wants to fall at your feet in veneration of something holy and ancient.

He falls against you, pulling you as close as he can get you, and then draws the scent of your hair in only to feel that much closer. Rocking into you as he slowly comes down and finds himself.

Gathering you in his arms, he lifts you away from the disheveled couch, ignoring you when you protest weakly that you can walk.

A bath is drawn and laced with plain epsom salt to soothe your throbbing muscles. He slips into the steaming water behind you, cradling you as he drags a washcloth over your skin.

Quiet verses of a song you’ve never heard are whispered in your ear as you drift into a light slumber without worry, confident that he will keep your head safe above water.

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moonlightyong · 1 year

Text

“his eyes break into me and i read the deepest envy of his soul on the tip of his tongue. it reads “you”.

– pairing: yuta nakamoto x fem!reader [self-insert reader, written from “I” pov]

– genre: light fluff, mostly suggestive

– wc: 2221 words [one shot]

– warnings: yuta and reader are ridiculously in love AND horny, there’s a lot of sexual tension in there, t e a s i n g, long ass make out session, switch undertones for the both of them (but ig you could say yuta is mostly the one in control), reader is a lil’ brat and our man sir nakamoto absolutely loves it, kinda possessive behavior at some point (?), yuta is a brat tamer who’s disgustingly and desperately enamored with the reader (lucky for him, she also is)

– author’s note: alright alright team, here’s this lil’ piece of writing i came up with not so long ago. i had just watched the bat mv and let’s just say mister nakamoto got me weak… next thing u know, i was writing this lil’ thingy and getting mentally consumed by the idea of [red-haired, biker, dressed in all black] yuta nakamoto. anyway, feedback is highly appreciated and without further ado; enjoy!!

– playlist:

the bat – nct u

blinding lights – the weeknd

into it – chase atlantic

half of my heart – josh makazo

crazy in love – sofia karlberg

I can still feel his hot breath there. It’s like tattooed on the bridge of my neck. He owns every pulse of my body, as small and discreet as they may be. He knows he’s the maestro of every sound I utter at unholy hours of the night. His eyes, dark and unpredictable, pierce through me, through the veil of my soul and read all of my secrets. The secrets I have for myself, for strangers and for the world. He knows my body like a handmade map, one he would’ve solely drawn in a dream of his; like the back of a hill, of a secluded meadow submerged by lilies and daffodils in the backyard of someone. Maybe I should’ve kissed him longer. Maybe I should’ve held him longer.

I’m accustomed to his taste, a cherry-like tint tattooed in the back of my brain. His handprints grew canyons in the anchor of my hips and I shiver every time my fingers graze against those haphazard souvenirs. His catchy lips burn crimson paint like candle wax on my skin and it’s so hard to feel regretful of them once the morning comes. The moonlight taints his body like a second skin and I feel even more enamored with him once his shadow is overcast with the glazing colors of the moon. His brown irises burn through me with hope and love and I glance back at him with empty promises of eternity. His name is engraved somewhere on my elbow and mine is forever mingled with the strings of his heart. I breathe in and he breathes out. We look at each other through heavy eyelids and find peacefulness in our embrace. I trace the pale skin of his left arm and imagine myself laying there for the rest of my days. He kisses the top of my head and puts a rebellious strand of hair behind my ear. And then, we both know we’ll do it all over again tomorrow.

[03:58 a.m]

Johnny’s House, Hongdae District

His rough hands find their way around my waist like the way back home. His lips instinctively pepper soft kisses down the stream of my neck; a way to greet me, a way to soften my mind. And, right as a familiar wind of warmth unravels in the deepest part of my lower body, he gives me the signal my whole being has been awaiting —and he secretly has been waiting for as well— : “Let’s go”. And just like that, we’d leave our friends behind at whatever party we were at and hop on his dark red Kawasaki. We ride into the night, the darkness of the city falling upon us like a cape and the blinding lights of high buildings and streetlights guiding us towards our sinful destination. And, just like every other night, I’d end up with my back pressed against his off-white wall as his hands would roam around my body, senselessly yet meaningfully. Then, his long fingers would take hold of my face and have me look up at him. A fire glances back at me from the depth of his gaze and, although I’m afraid I’d get burnt if I dared catch it, an irreproachable force in the seed of my soul pushes me to get closer and graze said fire. And I do. I get on my tippy-toes and press a kiss on the borders of his lips. Such an act, I suppose, is enough to light up the flame in his core. His hands hold my face tighter, closer, as if I was a dove and he was afraid I’d fly away if he were to loosen his grip for even a second. His soul bleeds in the grip of my touch and I paint his mouth with colors of my own. Each step we take brings us closer to the other, each grasp on each other’s body is a bit more powerful, leaving us with an unrivalled longing for the other’s touch. His eyes break into me and I read the deepest envy of his soul on the tip of his tongue. It reads “You”.

The epitome of desire rises in us like a treasured sunrise and all we’re thinking of is how to have all of each other at once. His fingers then trace along the lines of my body like a sacred poem, one he would recite to the stars every night right before heading to the land of faded dreams. I get lost in the overwhelming sensation of him, waiting, anticipating and craving for more. And, by the sole flutter of my eyelashes followed by a sound his soul cherishes, oh, so much, he gets the hint of what it is that I desire more than anything on this lonely night. The amber resting in the chambers of his onyx gaze then catches fire, like it was always meant to. A pleading sign of authorization flashes through his inky eyes and I, reading him like a book my past self wrote fifty-thousand years ago, start unbuttoning his dark shirt. The feeling of his rough skin melting upon my soft fingertips somewhat feels like an oxymoron, and yet, it’s like they’ve always belonged there. I patch up the torn areas of his skin with a stamp of my lips, so that he can remember me when I’m gone, so that I can find my way back there later on.

Slowly but surely, I make my way down the column of his torso, leaving purple-tinted evidence of my existence on the lands of his body. His wondrous whispers encourage me to keep going on my quest, to sow more seams of my eternal love for him on the road of ecstasy. And when I nibble a tempting patch of skin right under his symbolic butterfly tattoo at the extremity of his left side and then latch my tongue to underline the now bruised golden skin, I feel him shiver under my touch. Pride dances a waltz with the corners of my mouth right as an enchanting melody leaves the trenches of his throat. The simple consequences of what I’ve done to his body paired with the view of me kneeling right before him creates a dark tornado birthed in a cracked abyss of pleasure at the pit of his core.

A phantom aura of hopelessness and helplessness rejoicing in the definition of “skinny love” wavers above him, slowly lingering across his singular features. “The things you do to me…” A mumble just as loud as a whisper resonates in the house and in my inner walls, deep within. I look up at him, his enamored expression scratching my soul with melancholy and his gaze holding mine captive for the better. He looks disheveled in a metaphorical sense, a cry for surrender glistening in the catacombs of his eyes. I crack a smile at his state, the state I put him in. Suddenly, he grabs my forearms and puts me back up. We’re facing each other again, an electrifying tension, murderous to the touch, moving between our aching bodies. I look up at him with the word ‘challenge’ spelled out in my irises, reflecting the dilemma in his own. The daring glaze in my stare does not miss him and I’m standing there, anxiously and impatiently waiting for him to do something, anything. Yet, the ruined look flickering at the surface of the charcoal pool that are his eyes alert me of something; he still is bewitched by my touch, he still wants more of me. As a grin takes over my features, his are still soft with a newly found drop of harshness right in the middle. His silk-like hands wrap around my jawline like the clouds gently welcome the night sky after dusk and then, astonishingly, he pulls my face closer to his in a harsh tug. “You know you drive me crazy, don’t you, angel?” He no longer looks wrecked. The previously ruined look shining in his eyes had set and let a newly yet familiar assertive look rise in their premises. I swallow, hard. It is now his turn to grin.

Goosebumps cover my entire skin and my heartbeat is having a race against the million thoughts running through my mind. Yuta, on the opposite, looks pretty confident. Serene, even. And yet, as scared as I look, a wave of excitement is crashing against my chest and a flash of desire is coursing through my mellow eyes. Yuta’s own eyes catch with amusement, cling onto that hint delivered by my deepest self. And, in less than a second it takes to let out a breath, to think a thought, his lips crash into mine. It’s a kiss fueled by hunger, by lust, by mesmerism. Our bodies are trapped in an endless kind of colliding, yet, our souls feel like we’re barely touching. They need more. We need more. In a sudden rush, he takes off my tank top and I’m more than content by his action. His hands start roaming freely on my body, exploring a location he knows like the back of his hand. He lets the weight on his eyelids get the best of him as his mind, heart and soul get lost in the crevices of my essence. Yuta, as the cocky motherfucker that he is, is sure of many things. But one thing he is the most certain of is that nobody on this earth knows my body like he does. He is sure he could paint it; curves and bones, flesh and light, even the smallest details like that mole I have right under my left eye. And I don’t doubt him on that.

Once his eyes flutter back open, I’m greeted by an amorous glint in them. He looks at me like he held the whole world right there, in the palms of his hands, and whispers in a tone that could only be painted in honey: “I was made for you, love”. His hands caress the outlines of my face in the softest way known to mankind and the love he has in his eyes deepen, “And you…” His right hand lands a sharp slap on my behind, making me let out a shaky whine, not expecting the sudden change in his behavior yet not minding it a bit. I then jump up and he catches me in a steady hold, wrapping my legs around him as his hands ease the dazzling, scarlet-tinted stinging on my ass. His grip tightens and I can perfectly feel the flexing of his arms around me, a dizzying warmth taking over my whole being. This sudden act and incredulous proximity result in our foreheads ending up against each other. As his eyes bore into mine, he mutters in a hoarse voice: “You were made for me”. His slow breath rakes across the skin on my face like a cold yet welcoming breeze.

And as I’m getting accustomed to the growth of serenity and tenderness in the hollow of his eyes, I unexpectedly feel a demonic tingle in the soil of my bottom lip. Yuta had bitten it, leaving an iron taste behind and soothing it with delicate kisses. Said kisses slowly but surely grow into a more passionate, inflammable and straining one. I can feel my skin tingling and my five senses are tremendously alert. I rake my fingers through his long, red hair and tug at the ends. This single action takes him by surprise and has him dropping his head down, letting out a low growl against my neck. He then smirks —either in an attempt to hide the effect I have on him or because of the tiny whimper I just failed to hold captive behind my lips. I instinctively graze my nails against the lanes of his back the moment I feel him shift against me. My doing on his back must’ve been doing wonders because his eyes dive into mine with a darkness of their own; a warning one. A warning for what is about to come, a forethought of what I had gotten myself into. And this kind of threat makes my body shudder with contemplation. Therefore, I decide to push his buttons even more. I look back at him with a tint of innocence, of obliviousness, and flutter my eyelashes at him as my hand brushes a specific place down south where I know he needs me the most.

I never, ever knew his ebony eyes could get a shade darker until I’ve seen it right there, with my own two eyes. And, as I expected, my plan is a success. The purity swimming around in my irises sends him over the edge. And, without breaking eye-contact with me, Yuta pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue —a dear habit of his. However, during this moment, it feels more frightening —and a tiny bit more exciting— than usual. “You like torturing me baby, don’t you?” His low tone bears a glimpse of playfulness in it, yet, it’s a mischievous one. He definitely has something in mind. And if his arched eyebrow and the whimsical glint in his eyes weren’t indicative of it, his next words definitely are.

“Well, it’ll be my pleasure to teach you how to behave”.

hope u enjoyed reading this one shot! don’t hesitate to tell me ur thoughts about it, it’d be an honor to read them :]

★彡

#nct #nct 127 #nct scenarios #nct x reader #yuta nakamoto #yuta x reader #yuta nakamoto x reader #suggestive #one shot

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saintmagx · 1 year

Text

✨ Cruel Summer ✨

pairing: Solo Sikoa x reader, Jey Uso x reader (briefly)

AN: Literally making this for myself, so if I do ever end up publishing - enjoy I guess? 🤪

w/c: 1198

⚠️ Warnings: 18+ , swearing, violence (this is the WWE after all) slight smut, infidelity(if you squint), jealous Jey, toxic behaviour, bad/embarrassing writing ⚠️

doesn’t follow a specific timeline however it is more recent, total divas making a return.

✨ I love you ain’t that the worst thing you’ve ever heard - he looks up grinning like the devil ✨

• ❃°•°❀°•°❃•❃°•°❀°•°❃•❃°•°❀°•°❃•❃°•°❀°•°❃•

“I dunno Trin, the thought of being recorded for 12 hours of the day, like, I enjoy my privacy”.

“Think about it as an opportunity, having the fans see a different side of you. Showing them how hard you work your ass off.”

Trinity is my best friend, she helped me out so much when I joined the WWE 6 years ago. She and her husband Jon took me into their family and helped me adapt into the crazy world of being a WWE superstar.

“Just think about it is all I’m saying. It’ll be fun” trin says nudging me.

Ever since I moved here, we have had a weekly tradition of Wednesday Girls Night, its just snacks, Chinese takeout, and movies, it’s just time for us to catch up and wind down from the gruelling travel schedule.

Right on queue at exactly 11:30pm Jon walks in the door.

“Times up ladies” he says, which is swiftly followed by two pillows being thrown at his head.

“Come on uce, you know better than to interrupt gIrLs NiGhT”

The couch beside me dipped and once again I felt the heat from the body of Josh Fatu, my one weakness. His hand falls to his side and creeps closer to me caressing the side of my bare thigh. You see what people don’t know is Josh and I have an ‘agreement’ - no feelings, just sex and friendship, and it was going great until it wasn’t, feeling were caught, specifically by me and I’m stuck between a rock and hard place as I’m falling hard for him, but I cant let this agreement end because I would rather have him this way than not have him at all.

“Spoke with Joe today, Hunter is bringing him up to the main roster, can’t wait to have my other younger brother fighting by my side”. A third pillow is thrown at Jon from the direction of Josh.

“We are twins, and you are only older by 8 minutes”.

Never a dull moment where the Fatu boys are concerned.

• ❃°•°❀°•°❃•❃°•°❀°•°❃•❃°•°❀°•°❃•❃°•°❀°•°❃•

First day of filming (TD Interview Segment)

Okay, so lets start with a basic intro okay? Ready, go!

The room falls silent the light shines bright on me, I have at least 6 pair of eyes on me, goading me into starting. Gosh why did I sign up to do this!!!

Hi there, my names yn, I am currently on the Smackdown roster and I am the current WWE Women’s Champion.

I’ve been with the WWE for 6 years now and I wouldn’t have survived if it wasn’t for my adoptive sister Trinity, she took me under her wing and I’ve been there ever since. As you guys know – and if you didn't know, the accent should be a huge giveaway, I’m originally from the United Kingdom, I came to the states with a dream in hand and no one there to help me through this bumpy ride. I can never repay her or Jon for the way they have accepted and welcomed me into their little dynamic. Although, travelling the world with Jon and Josh is hard work, they boys are chaotic, I don't know how Trin managed to do it herself for so long!

• ❃°•°❀°•°❃•❃°•°❀°•°❃•❃°•°❀°•°❃•❃°•°❀°•°❃•

Friday Night Smackdown, Atlanta Georgia, 8 weeks before Survivor Series

Walking into the arena for Smackdown I get a message from Hunter asking to meet him in his office. A mixture of anxiety and curiosity fill in the pit of my stomach. In his office I’m met with the familiar faces of Jon, Josh, and Joseph, smiling I look over to Hunter who invites me to sit.

“I got your message, what’s up?

“We have been toying with the idea of a cross brand rivalry - for Survivor Series. Now that Joe has come up to the main roster, we think the Usos and Solo v The Judgement Day would pique interest from the WWE universe.”

“So why am I here?”

“Demi is the Women’s World Champion and part of Judgment Day; it would only seem right that she faces the Women’s Champion”.

Without hesitation I accept. Hunter debriefs us on how it’s going to play out over the next few weeks. We will have to be on both RAW and Smackdown over the next few weeks, so looks like it will be me and the brothers travelling together since Trin is exclusive to Smackdown!

Gorilla, few hours later (TD segment)

Tonight, I have a singles match, however Demi has to interfere and cost me the match – thus starting our road to Survivor Series.

I see Hunter in his usual place over at the screens with his headset on talking to Randy Orton, Randy spots me and immediately comes over to me.

“There’s my favourite girl.”

“I wouldn’t let your wife hear you say that Randy”.

Randy Orton, he is exactly how you would imagine him to be, a cocky little shit, flirtatious as hell, a menace but he has a heart of gold. Many nights we would hit the gym together and training with him before his injury really improved my in-ring ability. He is another one I would call my family away from family.

A familiar scent fills my nostrils, Josh. He stands next to me wrapping his arm around me pulling me closer, as if to stake his claim in me.

“I’ve been looking for you, come on let’s go”.

I smile apologetically at Randy, he just waves me off laughing, as much as I say people don’t know anything about me and Josh, it’s not to say there isn’t rumours flying around, people have their own take on it, and that’s okay, we just laugh it off.

Trin and Jon (TD Interview segment)

“You see yn and josh think they are so slick hiding their little late-night rendezvous” says Jon

Trin sighing, “I just wish they would bang their heads together and realise they are meant to be. Think of the double dates we could finally have Jon.”

Jon’s laugh fills the small interview room, “yeah it would be sweet, and yn is already like family, it would be an easy transition.”

Away from the cameras

“What were you talking to Randy about?” Josh quizzes

“Nothing, you came in and ushered me away before I could say anything.”

“Good, I don’t like it when you get attention from other guys, just me, okay?”

“I think you’ll find Josh that I can speak to who I like”. I say frustrated with his behaviour.

You see as much as I love Josh, this, this right here the way he wants to have his cake and eat it too drives me insane. I so much as look at another guy and he is right there to remind me I’m his, yet he can look at and speak to as many girls and I can’t say shit.

“I’ve got a match to get to, I’ll see you later J.”

“Goodluck out there baby girl, not that you need it.” Before he can come any closer to me, I slip out the room and let my frustrated sigh out. How much longer am I going to keep torturing myself.

• ❃°•°❀°•°❃•❃°•°❀°•°❃•❃°•°❀°•°❃•❃°•°❀°•°❃•

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sykokilljoyy · 2 years

Text

joints & cuddles - wroetoshaw imagine

request: none word count: 2333 warnings: drug use but casual, no angst just fluff!

TLDR: y/n and harry are distant friends who got high together and cuddled.

Bitter wind stung against your rosey cheeks as your tired eyes scanned across the London skyline. Sitting on the edge of the balcony, rolling a joint with red-tipped fingers, barely enough to feeling the paper against your skin. It was cold, very cold. A harsh October evening that you were spending at your friend, Talia's, apartment.

It had been a beyond stressful week. Bills you hadn't even noticed were due had come out before you expected them to, followed by a surprise inspection from your Landlord, then losing your favourite dress the night before a date and having to show up in an un-washed top and jeans. Fair to say, he never called you back afterwards. The joint was more than needed.

Talia didn't smoke, but loved having you over – plus, the videos of you high are always hilarious to watch when she's sad. Faintly from the kitchen you could hear her humming to a song on her laptop, a moment of pure excitement filled you as you remembered that she was cooking up your favourite dinner. Smiling to yourself, you raised the joint to your lips and lit it, breathing in the tainted smoke.

Watching the grey vapour float off into the sickly cold night sky, this was exactly what you wanted – a relaxed, stress-free evening with your beautiful best friend.

Or, so you thought.

"Yo, Talia!" You heard the distant rumble of a voice call from inside the apartment. Almost finished with your joint, you placed it down onto the ashtray and hopped back onto the balcony floor, pausing so you could hear inside.

"JJ?" Talia called back, moving towards the front door, "What are you doing here?"

"We were all filming nearby, Ethan lost his wallet so we missed our rides home and it's so cold outside," Simon explained, looping his arm around his girlfriend's warm body, "If you're not busy, we wondered if we could chill here."

Silence fell and you could feel Talia's slight panic as she did mental gymnastics, trying to figure out if you would be mad or not.

Usually, you would be sorely disappointed, considering the anxiety that fills your body and mind around groups of people. However, perhaps it was the rapidly growing warmth in your chest and fuzz in your head, you grabbed your phone and joint from the balcony and pulled open the door, alerting the attention of the tenants of the room.

"Oh, shit, sorry, Y/N, we didn't realise you'd be here," Tobi called apologetically, but you shook your head and smiled.

"It's okay, as long as you don't steal the dinner she's making, you can stay."

Laughing, the boys filtered into the room and took their positions around the chairs and sofas in Talia's living-room, Josh brushing past you before wincing.

"Jesus, Y/N, you're freezing cold."

"Oh," You chuckled, wrapping your arms around yourself, "Don't worry about me, I'll warm up."

"Nah, nah," Ethan shook his head, pointing over to his friend who was putting his bag down by the door, "Harry you bought that hoodie whilst we were filming, hand it over."

Before you could protest, Harry was making his way over to you, shaking his jacket off his shoulders, "I'm too hot, anyway, take this, it'll be warmer."

With a grateful smile, you looked up as he wrapped his thick coat around your shivering shoulders, catching his eye. He smiled at you sheepishly before turning around and heading awkwardly back towards his friends.

His friends shared some knowing glances that you were certain you weren't meant to see and suddenly your chest was clamped with anxiety. Were you just paranoid, or was there something going on?

Shaking you from your intoxicated thoughts, Ethan laughed to himself, "You smell that? Someone's had a good night."

The boys chuckled at the smell of weed that lingered in the apartment from you, to which you grinned nervously.

"Ask little miss over there," Talia poked her head around from the kitchen, pointing at you and you hid your face in your hands giddily.

"Don't embarrass me, please, I'm not in the state for that right now," You giggled, your cheeks red and hot.

"No way, don't be embarrassed," Josh piped in.

"Yeah, my next question was if you had any left," Harry laughed, earning some belly laughs from his peers.

Searching through your pockets, you pulled the half-finished joint from before and offered it to him, to which his eyes lit up gladly, taking it from your hand and hooking his arm excitedly around you, bringing you into his warmth, "You're an absolute god, thank you."

Unsure whether you were high or just incredibly single, but his scent filled your nose intoxicatingly, his strong arms holding you into his chest and heart beating against your ear – you didn't want him to let go. Pulling away, Harry smiled at you quickly before mouthing another 'thank you', hopping over his friend on the floor and heading to the balcony you had been on not even 10 minutes ago.

It had been a good 20 minutes now since you smoked and the boys had arrived, and you found yourself tucked into the side of the comfiest sofa, Harry's coat pulled up against you and the smell of Talia's cooking making your head spin. Netflix was blaring from the TV beside you, everyone but Harry, Talia and Simon all bunched up together, watching a new TV show to pass the time.

Creaking slightly, the balcony door was nudged open, a gush of cold air hitting you, causing you to pull Harry's jacket up to your cheeks. Harry crept in, eyes red and tired, cheeks flushed from the biting winds.

"How are you feeling, mate?" Ethan smirked, giving him a knowing gaze as a few chuckles rumbled around the room from his appearance.

"Oh, boys, I'm feeling amazing," He giggled back, heading towards the only empty seat, next to you, plonking himself down.

It was cozy, everyone was almost on top of each other, considering Talia's living-room wasn't intended to house almost 10 people at once. Whilst Harry was getting himself comfortable, he nudged into you and interrupted your zoned-out phone-scrolling – completely failing his plan to get comfortable, as he moved to make sure he wasn't in your space.

"Sorry, Y/N," he apologised and grimaced as he struggled to adjust himself into the sofa.

Perhaps it was because you wanted the comfort, or maybe it was pity that he looked so uncomfortable and you wanted him to have a nice high, you would've never normally had the guts to do this.

"Nah, come here."

Pushing your legs out, holding your arm around his shoulder, your body invited him into an embrace. His gaze was skeptical, unsure whether you were joking or not – silently hoping you weren't.

"Are you sure? You don't have to, I don't want you to be uncomfortable just bec-" He rambled, thanking the heavens the cold has tinted his cheeks because they would've been burning red at the thought of cuddling with you without it.

"Just shut up and come cuddle," You interrupted, gently pulling him towards you into the comfy part of the furniture.

Smiling warmly, he adjusted himself so he was leaning backwards, back against your chest and your arms around his neck and laying on his torso. Softly, his hair was brushing your chin and you rested it on his head, peering over to watch the videos he had on his phone.

You were both in a world of your own, giggling together at stupid Twitter videos, making dumb jokes and taking silly pictures that you'll probably beg him to delete when you're both sober.

A notification pinged at the top of his screen that caught both of your eyes:

From Behzie to Sidemen GC

Trust Bog to get high to finally shoot his shot LOL

Harry's body tensed and the palm of your hand felt the racket of his heart booming against his chest. Another text came through;

From Behzie to Sidemen GC

Wrong chat, this is awkward now. Hi Y/N. Sorry Boggy LMAO

To say you were unsure what to do next, was a huge understatement. Not only were you probably blushing and frozen by the sheer embarrassment of the situation, you were also just confused. Did this mean he liked you? What did Ethan mean by 'finally'?

"You're such a bastard, Behz," Harry was the first to speak, his mind kicking in and jumping from your embrace, launching himself at Ethan. Throwing some playful punches, laughter filled the awkward silence of the room and everyone was jokingly antagonising the pair of them.

Missing the feeling of his body, you took the second of distraction to readjust your head. You'd always liked Harry. It wasn't often you got to see the boys, considering you were only Talia's friend and had a very busy schedule in itself, but when you did it was Heaven seeing him.

He was awkward, so perhaps that's why you always thought he wasn't too interested in you, avoiding alone time with you if he could help it. It was fine, you had learnt to keep your crippling crush under wraps in order not to ruin the friendship you had with them all. But now you were questioning it.

"Y/N! Dinner is ready!" Talia called from the kitchen, stealing you from your wandering thoughts. Excitement filled your body instantly, dreaming up the feeling of getting some food in you in your current state.

Hopping up from the sofa, you hurried into the kitchen eagerly, being met by the incredible smell of Talia's cooking.

Without words, you hugged her gratefully.

"I love you so much, Talia Mar," You thanked, making her laugh and reciprocate your actions.

"Enjoy, babe, we'll be out in the living-room."

It was incredible, every bite felt like absolute euphoria and you thanked Talia with every single morsel.

The silence wasn't long before a very stoned head peeked around the doorframe.

"Room for one more?" Harry asked, his eyes full of hope as they dart between you and the beautiful meal in front of you. Taking another bite, you push the plate towards him, "Oh my God, you're incredible."

"I know, I know, just eat up before I change my mind."

The next 30 minutes was filled with stupid, brainless high conversation about anything and everything possible, sat across from each other in the kitchen, the warm orange light creating a gentle feel in the room. Food had been demolished a while ago, and whilst you both stopped your conversation to grab a drink, the atmosphere begun to change.

"Wine or coke?" You questioned, searching Talia's cupboards for something to sip on.

"Wine, definitely," Harry replied, standing up to join you, pulling glasses from the top shelf and placing them in front of you.

Reaching for his glass, you pushed Harry's hand away, shaking your head. He gave you a confused glance. Picking both of them up, you grabbed his hand and linked your arm with his. You'd seen it in a movie once, and in your current state, it seemed like a fun idea.

Harry was giggling the whole time as you both struggle to coordinate the glasses and sip at them. A lot was spilled, a bit was consumed, but most ended up all over yourself and the work top.

"That was such a bad idea," You cackled as you scrambled for some kitchen roll, wiping the remaining wine from your face and neck.

"You're beautiful," Harry announced, stopping you in your tracks.

Turning to him, you see him watching you clean yourself, a soft and wondrous look in his bright blue eyes. "T-Thank you."

"I'm sorry about earlier, with Ethan," He apologised, and before you had the chance to speak, her continued, "I just, I don't know, it's been, I just-"

"It's okay, Harry, don't worry!" You giggled, putting down your glass and placing your hand on his shoulder, "It's only a joke between friends."

"No, you don't understand," He seemed more serious now, even slightly stressed, "It wasn't a joke."

"Oh?"

Your mind was swimming now, perhaps the wine or maybe the terrifying anticipation flooding you.

"You don't even realise how long I've wanted to make a move, to ask you out, shit even just spend some alone time with you without those lot out there," He continued, "I've just been so absolutely terrified that you don't like me or you'd think it was weird and I'd hate to lose you."

"You'd never lose me, Harry," You smiled, your hand travelling to his chin to lift his head up, bringing his eye line to yours, "For so long, I've wanted to be something more, but you never seemed interested."

"If you were in my brain you would be pissing yourself at how dumb that sounds," He laughed defeatedly, "The boys bully the fuck out of me trying to give me the courage to ask you out."

You blushed, a pure feeling of relief and excitement and pure joy and so much more.

"I like you, Y/N, like so much and it's taken me so long to say because I'm an idiot," Harry confessed, a small tremble in the hand that was on yours.

"You're not an idiot, Harry," Your body subconsciously leaned towards him, "I like you, too, dumbass."

Distance was minimal between you both, "Can I kiss you?" Harry asked, his voice low and needing.

You didn't need to reply, your lips placing themselves on his as his hands dropped to your waist, pulling you as close as he could after years of pining, years of dreaming of the feeling of your lips on his.

You didn't want to pull away, but your breath was vacant and you needed to see his face.

"So," He spoke first, not moving from the close proximity, "Can I take you on a date? Tomorrow night?"

"Of course," You beamed, ecstatic at the closeness of your bodies, "I'll be there."

The moment was scuffed by a text message popping up loudly on Harry's phone, and he pulled it out enough for us both to see.

From Behzie Are you guys finished shagging in there? We want food.

From Behzie p.s. proud of u boggy

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

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xxswagcorexx · 4 months

Note

please may I have some fic recs? mainly ones that will have me kicking my feet and giggling- nothing too serious but a light read: the vibes of stand partners by eternal kind of.

hi! i haven't read stand partners yet but i skimmed through the tags and here are some ones i like/hit the same vibe :) it is very long though </3

Pretty Things by ros_is_writing

Laying facedown on the bed was his partner Ashswag, the only other person with keys to Red’s apartment. When he heard Red come into the room he rolled over onto his back and sat up, dark braid flipping over his shoulder at the change of gravity. “Welcome home,” Ash grinned, eyes crinkling in laughter. “This is my house,” Red noted. He put a hand on his hip and looked at Ash over his sunglasses, a joking form of their normal rivalry. “Yeah, but I was here first,” Ash rolled his eyes and scooted off the bed. He casually strolled across the room like he wasn’t the highlight of Red’s day and dropped a kiss into his hair.

Red sees an ostrich by Anonymous

“I don’t think you were smiling this much even when we got married.” “Ash, there wasn't ostriches at our wedding.” “You're allergic to ostriches.” Swagdoons fluff (OOC)

(oh,) to be a comfort by Felix_J

"It is good here, people say." Ash mutters. The words tug at his throat, and it's a bit hard to breathe. He'll manage. "Good place to take your partner." "Says Josh?" Red quirks an eyebrow. Moves his other hand, then, the one that's free, to rest on his knee, and it's where he must register the metal against the palm. Ash stares off silently. He thinks they say not to look at the sun for a reason, because it's too beautiful as it bleeds red into the ocean. But hey, the S.U.N. is the new sun, so they are, and really, the tiny reflections of it in Red's eyes when he hangs his head feel way more important. Just... not easier, to look at. He blinks the tears off. Unlike someone, he doesn't have sunglasses, so that he can admit. "Says Josh." He agrees quietly.

away from the winds by Anonymous

Ash, because he’s a bastard and has never heard of a healthy sleep schedule, shows up at his doorstep at six on the dot. He’s sitting in the kitchen when Red finally stumbles downstairs, spinning the key Red gave him months ago around his fingers with a shit-eating grin on his face.

after closing time by cherubium

after a busy day at the casino, the casino quartet decide to rest.

overdosed on sugar and holiday high by Anonymous

“Morning Ash,” Red greets, supported with a small wave. And as an afterthought, Red adds, “Merry Christmas.” Because he’s soft like that, then to balance the statement, he continues, “Can’t believe you’re still working during the holidays like some capitalist contributing to society.“

Counting Stars by Dreamshadow2

Lifesteal can be extremely dangerous at times. Usually, you can never relax. But some days, when things get a bit too much, you just need some time to relax, to be yourself. Or: ScamDuo stargazing, tons of fluff, can be read as platonic or romantic

(hello) my old heart by Anonymous

What he doesn’t ask is why Ash chooses, over and over, to step through that door, through Lifesteal and Earthbound and the wastelands of an apocalypse. The void knows how many other worlds they’ve followed each other through without a second thought.

sir thats my emotional support human by oneirogen

god!ash sleeping while hugging red to his chest like an oversized plushie. send post

something stupid by starbamnk

'I love you.' Ash had to stop himself from choking. That's not how they were here. It ached, but that wasn't how things were.

ALSO i usually don't rec my own fics but i've written so much fluff that i figured i should share it with you too anon . also willow swagcore author reveal too i guess LOL

fallin' in love

Ash and Red go to a pumpkin patch on their day off.

it’s no big deal (that i love you)

Sometimes Ash understands people when they call him and Red a couple. They are partners, in a sense, but not in that way. After all, when you’ve spent so long as enemies, survivalists, comrades, even, you notice a lot about the other person. From tracking down Red’s movements to stealing that stupid bell from Capital City, to pressing down on wounds and praying it didn’t get infected, they’ve been through everything. Been through the happy, sad, and angry tears together, and everything else in-between. But of course, everything they did had to be a business deal—a private agreement between just both of them. or: ashswag has some thoughts about red while they fall asleep together (ft. swagdoons qpr)

i'd duet again

Neither of them remembers when their morning ritual started, but in the grand scheme of things, that doesn’t matter. The fact is that Red would be the one to wake up first, get ready, start the coffee machine for Ash, and start playing his guitar in the garden. or: ash and red's morning duet

homemade comforts

If Red was being honest, he reveled in moments like this. Moments when Ash and he were far away from all of the violence, all of the responsibilities, and away from any prying eyes around them. Just Ash and Red, cooking together in their shitty little kitchenette that only fits two people.

four of a kind

Ash, Branzy, Clown, and Red close up the casino for the week.

best friends

As they ran back through the streets, they let the rain pour down on them, because they were already drenched. They cackled like madmen throughout it all and in that moment, both of them knew that they had something special. And they were going to get such a bad cold after this. or: how red and ash meet, and how they become friends

temporal

while the world melts around them, ash and red spend the night dancing. that's the fic.

jenga tower

"Dude-" Ash says through a wheezed breath, "Do you think this a little much?" Clown hums, "Mmm, no. I think you're just fineee." "Exactly," Red chimes in, definitely not helping the 'hey wouldn't it be funny if we all laid on Ash?' cause. or: casino quartet turn into a human jenga tower. for roses and smoke week, free day

curtains

It's 7pm, and Ash and Red are exhausted after a 12 hour day of moving. Ends up they forgot the fucking curtains.

#mailbox.core #swagdoons #ashswag #reddoons #sorry that all of them are swagdoons </3 #tw swearing #anyways hope u enjoy anonnnnnn ^_^

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elisfashionn · 4 months

Text

𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 : bobby skeetz x fem!reader

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 : Your brother is Ryan Mcmahon, drummer of the upcoming band Inhaler. What happens when you sneak around with the Irish bassist…

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : cigarettes and alcohol (oasis).

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

I was awoken to a knock at my bedroom door. Not long after the knock appeared my brother Ryan.

“Get up, we need to leave soon.”

“Do i have to come with you?”

“Yes. You promised me last week that you’d come to the show”

“That was last week. I’ve changed my mind”

“No. You’re coming”

And with that Ryan closed my door in annoyance which led me to groan knowing i had to stick to my word of leaving the house tonight.

It wasn’t long before i hopped in the shower getting ready for the day. Frank Ocean blasted through the speaker on the counter as i washed my hair. When all of a sudden i got a text message. I turned off the shower and wrapped a towel around my body checking my phone to see who interrupted me.

Bobby - Bobert 🤘

You - Y/N🖕

Bobert 🤘

You coming to the gig tonite? x

Y/N 🖕

Unfortunately. I promised Ryan i’d come to this one x

Bobert 🤘

Um excuse me this isn’t an unfortunately moment. x

Y/N 🖕

It is when i’m gonna be stuck with 4 boys and one of them tries to convince others to play bird bingo for an hour. x

Bobert 🤘

I wonder who that could be cause it isn’t me. Maybe Josh? We should really have a word with him about that cause that’s out of order x

Y/N 🖕

Whatever helps you sleep at night babes x

Bobert 🤘

Babes? Okay Babes. Let’s have a talk Babes. x

Y/N 🖕

Bye. Gotta get ready see you soon. x

Bobert 🤘

See you soon babes x

I didn’t realise I was smiling at my phone until the last message. I’d say Bobby and I have a close relationship. I’ve known him for a while and i’ve always had a crush on him. I mean who couldn’t. He’s 6ft with a mullet and plays bass in a band. And also my brother’s bestfriend and bandmate but we all have a secrets don’t we. I walked into my bedroom and shut my phone throwing it onto my bed getting ready for the night ahead of me. I threw on a black midi dress that flowed in the wind at the bottom and paired with my fur jacket, black boots and black bag and topped it off with jewellery. I then started applying the finishing touches to my makeup before Ryan called up saying that we are leaving in 5. I opened my bag and threw in my packet of cigarettes, a small bottle of alcohol, charger, lip liner and lip stick and other necessities i’ll need for the night before quickly making my way downstairs.

liked by ryanmcmahon_15, elijahhewson and 1,300 others

y/nusername : dressing up > down

📷 : ryanmcmahon_15

ryanmcmahon_15 : finally got photo credits for once.

➥ y/nusername : be grateful

user : where is the jacket from?

➥ y/nusername : it’s thrifted x

bobbyskeetz : this jacket looks like a bird meaning you have to bird bingo.

➥ y/nusername : … can i not get a nice compliment without it including birds.

➥ bobbyskeetz : no sorry xxxxx

bobbyskeetz : 😫🖕

➥ y/nusername : no. damage is already done 💔

user : UR HOT.

➥ bobbyskeetz : thanks x

➥ y/nusername : fuck off.

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We arrived at the venue and entered through the back door. There were a group already queuing even though it was only 2pm. It was so crazy to me how people would spend their whole day waiting in a queue for a show that will only go on for a few hours (i am guilty of this). They all screamed when they saw Ryan enter the venue which i still need to get used to. We get led into the green room which was already filled with the other 3 irish lads.

It wasn’t long before Ryan announced our presence ‘Hey! We made it’

‘Hey guys!’ Eli stood up and started hugging the both of us followed Josh and Bobby.

Bobby’s hug lasted a little longer than i wanted it to but at the same time i could stay with him forever. He’s such an easy person to be around. You could either talk for hours upon hours about random ass shit. You could tell him about girl drama and he would make small comments like ‘She’s a Bitch’ or You could both sit in the same room together in comfortable silence. You’ve never gotten on with anyone so well in your life. It was relaxing to know that someone understood you in that way.

‘We have soundcheck in about 2 hours so if anyone’s up for a round of bird-‘

‘Bobby… Don’t even mention the words Bird or Bingo today please’ He just laughed at my comment sitting down on the velvet couch placed in the middle of the room. He patted the seat next to him inviting me to sit down beside him which is happily accepted. The other boys were talking about god knows what when suddenly Bobby leaned over and spoke so only I could hear ‘Are you looking forward for tonight… babes’ I lightly slapped his arm telling him to behave. ‘You know i really was up for it until i remembered you were in the band again. What happened to them finding a new bass player?’ ‘You should be grateful i’m stuck to bass, I was gonna be the lead’ ‘Now you say it i am grateful you’d do anything but sing.’

‘Hey guys are going to go get food you coming with?’ Josh stood up and asked the both of us

‘No we’re good’ I looked at Bobby because i was really hungry and wanted food but i knew if id asked ryan he’d get me something ‘I’ll stay here, Can you get me something Ryan?’ ‘Yeah course, be back in an hour’

And with that the other boys left and it was just Bobby and I. Earlier I mentioned how it was always a comfortable silence with Bobby however this silence felt different. It felt like there was something needed to be said or something needing to happen. And I feel like he sensed the same. He looked over at me opening his mouth like he was going to say something. That was until I looked over in his direction. He shut his mouth and looked the other way scratching the back of his neck. Strange.

We sat on our phones for about 5 minutes until I broke the silence.

‘Bird bingo?’ ‘I thought you’d never ask!’ I rolled my eyes but there was really nothing else to do.

Both of us sat either side of the small coffee table places on the floor as he set up the game. I sat opposite him waiting for him to finish. ‘Let’s make this game different’ He looked up and hummed in response confused. ‘Let’s do some forfeits, everytime one of us loose a round we do something the other person wants’ in reply he just smirked at me laughing a bit. ‘Don’t smirk at me Robert I’m winning’ ‘We’ll see’

With that the first round started. It started off with shots being taken to us telling eachother random secrets and doing a small Q&A. It didn’t take long for it to get more heated and serious. ‘Next one i win…’ he lent in a bit till i could feel his breath. ‘We kiss’. ‘Okay’ i just smiled not knowing what else to say in response. I really wanted to but Ryan would be so pissed off if he knew.

And he won that round. That’s how it all started a silly game of bird bingo. That night when no one else was around we couldn’t keep our hands off of eachother sharing kisses whenever we could and having small makeout sessions in secret places. The boys were performing on stage and Bobby couldn’t take his eyes off of me when all of a sudden ‘Who’s your money on (plastic house)’ started playing.

‘Who’s your money on Dublin?’ Eli announced to the crowd as they started yelling out names of the band. I looked over at Bobby and i saw him mouth to me ‘Who’s your money on??’ I yelled ‘BOBBY!’ which caused him to laugh and walk towards Ryan at the back who was playing the drums. I took my phone out and started recording them for a little bit of the ending since this was one of my favourite Inhaler songs. It wasn’t long until the show ended and i was making my way back towards the green room when all of a sudden i got pulled through a door outside by the tour buses. Bobby stood there with the same look on his face he’s had all night pulling out a cigarette lighting it and then holding it out to me. ‘I don’t want this to be a one night thing’ he said taking a puff and blowing it out making deep eye contact with me. ‘Neither’ I said taking the cigarette back into my lips this time he was holding it which led him to pull me against him as we smoked together. We both stood in silence until it was stumped out sharing a quick kiss which tasted nicotine before heading back inside before the fans started coming out or even one of the others.

liked by bobbyskeetz, graciebrns and 4,829 others

y/nusername : who the feck are inhaler? (and if anyone can tell me who this man is staring at me lmk so i can block him xx)

user : who are inhaler?

➥ y/nusername : idk. u tell me x

bobbyskeetz : that might be me? i’m not sure though. just a thought.

➥ y/nusername : yeah it doesn’t look like you x

user : damn 2 pics of bobby we are being fed.

➥ user : and im eating them all up

elijahhewson : the best band ever

➥ y/nusername : dream on.

graciebrns : my wife

➥ bobbyskeetz : back off shes mine.

➥ y/nusername : bobby.

➥ ryanmcmahon_15 : what.

➥ bobbyskeetz : oops.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Now here we are. Bobby and I secretly dating. Ever since that night we’ve been inseparable. Ryan has been questioning why i’ve wanted to come to the shows so much now recently or why i always want to be around him and boys but he couldn’t know. You recently moved into your own apartment in Dublin still close enough to Ryan but also further enough to feel like you have your own space. Bobby has been round all the time even sleeping over. We’ve had a few close calls but now it’s just our little secret.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Author : This one is a little bit better but still bad. Gimme prompts 🙏🙏 (with anyone, if ik who they r) - Matilda xx

#bobby skeetz #inhaler #inhalerdublin #inhalerband #bobbyskeetz x reader #robert keating x reader #fanfic #rockstar #story #elijah hewson x reader #eli hewson x reader #josh jenkinson x reader #ryan mcmahon x reader

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hero-israel · 11 months

Note

Do you think there will be any long term effects of a lot of American Jews realizing how much significant potions of the left cheer Jewish death? Like is most of the fear of insane DSA people held off by how supportive Biden is of the Jewish people and the overwhelming bipartisan response to the massacre? Or do we see something akin to the French Jewish experience where American Jews increasingly feel isolated and make Aliyah?

It's a lot of all of that. And the problem is that the natural Jewish tendency towards hypervigilance and threat awareness can make things seem even worse than they are. The line between screaming marchers and murderous pogromists is very thin - and it looks gone altogether when you know you can't take the risk, when you know you're "better fled than dead".

It is extremely important that we have so far seen emphatic support for Jewish safety and Israel's self-defense from basically every level of the government, and that the police forces have proven they are on the side of protecting Jews and Jewish institutions and taking threats against us seriously. And yes, that means parting from the standard leftist songs about the police.

I mentioned recently that the generally rejected and unaccomplished nature of American Leftists could wind up protecting Jews. There's like 49.7% of the country that's still pro-Trump, nearly all Democrats like Biden and would be perfectly happy if Gretchen Whitmer or Josh Shapiro became President tomorrow. It just doesn't seem likely that DSA's river-to-the-sea types could gain real political power. But watch out for it. Because if the danger starts to come from the government, from the police forces - THEN it's time to leave. Watch out in particular for things like this.

#leftist antisemitism #american jews #jumblr

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writingcold · 1 year

Text

Welcome to Chapter 18, and the end of Act II of Bootleggers and Wildflowers! We return to seeing our time through all three of our wildflowers, Molly, Susannah, and Cora. This is not the end of our story, just a transition to our final rather dramatic, fast paced final act!

If you are just joining us, you can find the Master List to the series here

Hugs to the ever lovely @lvnterninthenight, @gardensgatedaisy and @whitesuitjake. Thank you once more for your assistance, patience and talents.

This is a work of fiction, and is totally mine. Please do not take it for your own personal use. I’ve put in hours of research, hours upon hours of writing, re-writing, screaming, yelling and vomiting over this epic of a story. But it is mine.

Content warning: 18+ story. Angst. Fast cars. Drug use.

Word count: approx. 4800

Chapter Eighteen: Long Bleak Winter Through Three Sets of Eyes - Molly POV

November was met with high wind screaming across the town for weeks. The family seemed to hunker down deeper than their regular patrons, licking wounds that felt like they were slow to heal. Molly’s eyes skated over the newspaper that Danny had left on the table, her stomach churning with disdain at the sight of Harold Archer beneath the thick lettered headline: Former Northern Trust Bank President To Stand Trial. If there was any way to burn the picture and have it affect the monster, she would. She knew that Josh had been called to testify. Somehow, the prosecutor thought it best that the women be spared of having to share testimony to the horrors that had been pressed upon them. “Spared”. The word sickened her. Molly thought that once again, the feminine voices would be quieted so that the “men” could protect their own better. Where the hell were they when he was preying upon the others? She felt her brain whisper the words as she tried to focus once more on breakfast.

She had known Archer was bad. He was the kind of evil that lingered in dark spaces. There had been rumors laced with sinister words; words that were too hard to be spoken in polite company. Words that involved what the other Archer wives had endured. Molly wondered if those so-called rumors would be dragged into the light once and for all. She doubted it though. Archer still had money. Still had supporters. Still had friends that were not unlike himself.

“Molly, did you hear a word I said?” he asked as he returned to the kitchen table, pushing the newspaper to the side.

“I don’t understand,” she said, scraping eggs out onto two plates.

“It’s not ideal, but I thought that was what you wanted,” Danny said as he fiddled with the coffee cup in front of him. “A little shop of your own to mend and create your own clothes, right?”

Molly set the plate in front of her husband with an unsure glance. “But I thought we weren’t going to do anything until after we settle someplace other than Kingsford. Why do this now?”

“I thought perhaps you may want to just give it a go,” he said, pushing the eggs around his plate before taking his first bite. “And no, I know we’re not here forever. It’s just to give it a try. See how you like the business itself.”

She grimaced as her thoughts twisted. “I would have to do both for a while…”

“Both?”

“Both jobs. I can’t quit dancing yet, Danny,” she said quietly. “It pays the bills and I would need up front money to buy needs.”

“What if I wanted to invest in this little venture? What if Sam wanted to-”

“Fuck that.”

Molly suddenly lost her appetite, her fork landing squarely on her plate with a clang. Danny’s eyes flashed with a heat that she did not often see but she could not stop the shake of her head.

“Explain to me why you wouldn’t want to have help from friends - our family, Molly,” he said quietly as she stood to look for her deck of cigarettes.

“I love our family, Daniel. I do. But the fucking Kiszkas are like a plague. They ooze into everything we do. If I’m going to do this, I want to do it on my own. Not with fucking marked money. I don’t want to have to look over my shoulder to see if I owe them anything.”

He sat back, arms crossed with a hard look. “It’s my money as well, Mols. My family business.”

“I know,” she huffed.

“My family is half of this dynamic. I think you like to forget that on purpose.”

“It’s just easier to blame them for being in this situation that you find yourself in sometimes.”

The corner of his mouth stretched in a sad smile. “What our fathers had to agree to put us all into this life. I’m not going to apologize for it. It did bring me here. Brought me to you, love.”

Her eyes rolled closed as he took her hand into his own. Molly did not need to be reminded that the Wagner family was deeply entrenched in the same shit warfare as the Kiszkas. She did not need to be reminded that the family elders were trying to shelter their boys from the bulk of the trouble that was from down south. Danny had repeated that fact many times over the years they had been together. The expectations of the Diamante family could have been much darker save that their fathers - both of them - kept those wolves at bay for the most part.

“I don’t really need a storefront, I guess,” she sighed looking around her cozy home.

“And you already have your first contract,” he said with a grin. When she flashed a hesitant expression, he chuckled. “Come on, you gotta at least take advantage of your dancehall girls and their bosses somehow.”

“I may just gouge them,” she laughed. “Maybe I can make a card to leave in the Lantern. Lord knows some of those bitches-”

“Molly, you’re talking about clients.”

She narrowed her eyes at him and his smile. “Fine. Lord knows some of those ladies need a better seamstress to guide their evening out attire.”

Chapter Eighteen: Pt. 2, Susannah POV

The last week of January was screaming through the air. The holidays had been lovely. Susannah had forgotten the magic of Christmas day dinner with children. Cora’s younger brothers were all full of sparkle and light that set the entire day on a course that was what was featured in serials, movies and storybooks. Jacob doted on Cora’s family, much to Rosemary’s delight. The woman was near tears the entire time as ghosts of memories with her husband prickled and leaked out in the softest of stories that had all of them silent in awe.

The cold blistered and blasted anyone and everyone without quarter. Susannah yanked the wool coat tight across her flaming skin. She had been doing well. Not needing the little pick-me-up miracle that she had found before it disappeared from the pharmacy never to be found again. The headaches were returning more frequently the longer winter stretched. The gray on gray on gray of the landscape dulled every sense in her frame to little more than a shell.

Morning had greeted her with ants crawling under her scalp and tears on her pillow. Sam had left early. Or at least that was what she figured since he was not in the bed when she finally stirred. She fought to remember if he had indeed been with her the previous night and decided it was best to make a visit to the pharmacy to curb the next round of headaches so as not to bother her love.

Her eyes dragged over the different bottles. Each one touted its amazing ability to cure all ailments from asthma, to disorders of the stomach, to troubles of the brain and pain of all kinds. Her hand closed around her usual laudanum when something new caught her attention at the end of the counter. Similar to the heroin that she had only been able to get that one time, this blasted those who noticed it a promise - this one truly works! This medicine will aid you in all daily activities and not be like those addictive, bad for you promises that other medications deal out! This miracle will aid in all pain and give you a bit of pep in your step!

Susannah lifted the small bottle of tablets, shaking them from side to side. Looking at the label, she felt skeptical, her eyes wandering back to the advertisement. There was nothing in the ad that described the contents of the tablets other than amphetamine with other additives. She had no idea what amphetamine was, but if it was in the pharmacy it certainly couldn’t harm her.

The weeks of February were colorless and long. The bottle of tablets stayed in her drawer, hidden, quiet. Susannah would glance at them from time to time, but the laudanum was working albeit in nearly double the dose that she normally took. It would do. She was not ready for something new. It was enough that it was at the ready.

Molly’s announcement that she would no longer be dancing with the troupe came the first week of March. Her tailoring business was catching on. The well-to-do ladies of Kingsford began to overlook her showgirl side and instead fawned over her risque thoughts of what it meant to look like as a woman in 1927. She took some guidance from Josh to actually offer services for those who chose ordered patterns from the mercantile shop and things sprang into life for her from there. She would show how a pattern could be altered in a way that would allow for individual body shapes and interests and function rather than just making what was expected from the purchased construction. Molly Wagner was becoming respectable. Susannah was happy for her friend. She suspected that Daniel would move her into a house of their own soon. More than likely when the snows cleared and the green of the late Spring appeared.

There was a hollowness that idea had left behind. If Molly was able to claw her way to above the board in society, how the hell was she supposed to continue on? She still wanted her dream - to live with Samuel in a house of their own, a life that they could be proud of. They were no closer to getting out of Kingsford than they had the year prior. The darkness of her thoughts produced thunderclouds on her horizon. Susannah did not want to be left behind like she nearly always had been before. She had chosen to stay. She had chosen to stay with Samuel and make a life.

The evenings were spent alone with her Sam. He would read to her while she curled in his lap against the skin of his torso. He would twirl his fingers in her black hair and look at her with those velvety eyes that assured her that she was well. He would love her. He would make her feel adored. But there was a feeling of being threadbare that she could not shake. He suggested that it was winter - once the snows retreated and the kiss of green shaded the bare trees, all would be well once more. He sighed his love for her while joining their bodies. And for those moments, it would have to be enough.

Chapter Eighteen: Pt. 3, Cora POV

Unlike the year prior, winter was lingering. The first week of April came and went and the ground somehow discovered another foot of heavy snow to blanket the almost three feet that was already there. Cora watched out the window. Her blue eyes searched for any sign of clear sky. There was none to be found. At the end of the week, the news had arrived that Harold Archer had been found dead in his prison cell. After his trial had to be moved to Iron Mountain due to threats of lynching him in Kingsford, he was found guilty of a host of ‘attempted’ crimes including murder and bank robbery, kidnapping and illegal drugs, made all the worse due to the Harrison Act of 1914. Archer had been sent to Jackson State Prison to serve a twelve year term. The news had left Cora with a bitter taste.

She wanted to testify. She wanted to voice what he had put upon her. The prosecutor felt that her words were tainted by the drugs that Archer had put into her, thus polluting her as a witness. Every word she would say before the judge would have to be viewed with the possibility that her experience was skewed by illicit drugs. Jacob tried to soothe her. Joshua explained that despite the small minds in the courtroom, he would not reserve his words to being soft and understanding that Archer was under duress. In the end, Cora was sure that there was more to the evil that had had her sister in his clutches, but because of the will to fully understand or perhaps it was the avoidance of rooting out such tainted minds, it was left to stand as is with a guilty verdict.

Her mother had wondered if Junie may return to them, but the gossip was thick surrounding Mrs. Archer’s disappearance. In her fragile state, it was decided that it was better that Junie stay with Dorothy. Let the tongues wag in Kingsford. They were not important to Junie in any way.

The second week of April brought a hint of warmth. And rain. And wind. Cora thought for sure little Georgie was going to blow away like a kite as they tried to walk to church services. The boy just laughed and ran with it, played against it, and reveled in it. She wondered why, as adults, they were no longer allowed to have awe over something so joyful, and were instead conditioned to fight against it like an enemy.

By the third week of April, the snow was gone, leaving nothing but mud - everywhere. Cora was dismayed by the idea of just crossing the street after seeing horse and man alike were sinking. The constant was the wind, howling for days on end, drying the wet out with a whispered hint of green to come. When the first true blades of grass peeked out from the earth, there seemed to have been a collective sigh of Spring’s arrival.

“I’m not going to go out for another week, Josh,” Jacob’s sharp voice was tight and dark as she walked into the house behind Mrs. Woods. “I’m not going to dig that bitch out when she gets stuck before even making it down the alley.”

The smell of Sunday dinner struck her, wrapped her in warmth and a smile, despite the firmness of the conversation between the twins. She hung up her coat and straightened out the skirt of her dress before making her way back into the kitchen.

“I’m not saying you have to, Jake, but we’ve got to get a jump-”

“Gentlemen,” she cooed as she reached for Jacob’s hand.

“Hello, lovely,” Josh said with a grin, watching as Jake twirled her before taking her in close for a kiss. “How is this Sunday finding you? Rosemary and boys coming along?”

“Not today,” she answered, as Jacob slid his hand across her hip, his fingers grazing her bottom. “Jon’s got a cough.”

“I have a new record. You want to give it a listen?” Jacob asked sweetly, his coy smile warming her. “We’ve got a bit before I have to get things together.”

“Only if I get to dance with Joshua,” she quipped as she held out her hand to him.

Her words earned her one of his belly laughs that set the room all aglow. He walked with her to the parlor while Jacob grumbled behind them. She knew it was all a show. To have his twin close was one of the most important things he needed. It was gravy to have his girl and his brother be friends. She waited as the record was first located and then set to life. Joshua held his arms out to her, accepting her and whirled her around the space while Jacob smiled and shined on.

Josh leaned in against her ear so that only she could hear. “Thank you, lovely. You have brought us a beacon we have been missing.”

Cora’s brows pinched a bit as he smiled down at her. “I’m not sure your meaning.”

The mischief in his eyes twinkled as he turned her slowly, leading her backwards and into another twirl. He let her go and she landed squarely against Jacob’s chest. His lips grazed her cheek as her hands drifted up around him. Adoration. The way his fingers pressed against her back and held her frame into his own could only be described as adoration. There was a heat and shine that she could not hide whenever he was near. It reflected back at her, filled her, nurtured her. The world narrowed down to just the two bodies whenever he was like this - just them and no one, no thing could or would infringe upon that sacred space.

Dinner was full of laughter. Samuel was spinning his typical antics while Molly was loud and boisterous, challenging him any way she could. Susannah seemed quiet, but her words were sincere and supportive to any she lent them to. Daniel and Joshua were quietly debating over market shares and how the stock market in New York was turning into a fevered pitch, making so many wealthy on returns that were unheard of in the past. Joshua voiced concern over inflated profits only to be interrupted and brought back to their current location of the Upper Peninsula versus the urbanism of New York City.

Jacob got his week before taking the Moon out for its first voyage of the Spring, and he took that drive with his girl. Cora had yet to ride in the new boiler. Samuel had been tinkering with her all winter and needed to test her out, but Jacob wanted to just take a drive and snuck her out before his younger sibling could argue. The ride was different from her experience in the Earl. It was faster, smoother. The roar of the engine sent vibrations of joy through her to see Jacob totally free behind the wheel without a care. They picnicked in the spot where they stopped all those months before on their first drive together.

“That has to be my favorite color of all,” she whispered against him as he held her close to shield her from the wind. “That first green blush on the trees. There’s such a promise there of what is to come.”

Jacob kissed her sweetly in agreement. They danced on the ridge. Cora knew the moment was important, solidified by the whisper of gratitude he pressed against her skin and chiseled into her spirit. He guided her back to the car, his hands running up the sides of her thighs in a wicked manner as he deftly unhooked her garters while they moved. She barely registered that he placed her hands to hold onto the back of the seat as he pulled her across his lap. Looking down into his face was like looking into something eternal. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of how his expression changed as she lowered herself over him. It was beauty that was only privy to her. The knowledge incinerated her skin as he guided her over him, moving together.

The drive home was anything but in the right direction. He held her close as he drove, taking the loop around the northside of Iron Mountain. She expected that he would turn back at Spring Lake, but continued north. The road was one of the state highways and was better taken care of versus the little horse and buggy trails that she was used to traversing. She noticed that his eyes strayed to the side mirrors, a hard look worn on his face told her that something was not quite normal. The speed began to climb beyond where Cora was used to. Her hands came down on the seat as she straightened. Jacob glanced over his shoulder to a car behind them that was close. She heard him breathe out a curse as he shifted to a lower gear and moved over to the side.

“God damn,” he growled, shifting hard and taking off to a speed that sent her heart into her throat.

“Jacob?” she asked, feeling like she was being pulled into the seat.

“Someone’s following us,” he said in a tone so hard that it did not sound like him. “Make yourself small and hang on.”

Cora instantly folded in on herself, trying to look into the side mirror on her side offered little to see what they were running from. The roar of the engine was the loudest thing she had ever heard as he pushed the car faster. His eyes became sharp as his frame became rigid. Fear prickled at her edges. Her heart raced, though it did not feel as fast as they were moving.

“If he follows us through Granite Bluff, then we’ll keep going,” he said, but she realized that the words were for himself. “If he continues, then we’ll turn east on 90 and there’s that loop at Felch and Metropolitan. We’ll lose him there for sure.”

Cora could not keep air in her lungs. She gasped with every lurch and sway like the car required it to keep moving ahead of their tail. The car flew through the blink that was Granite Bluff. He hummed as he shook his head.

“Felch it is, you fuck,” he whispered.

She could feel the color drain from her face as her brain tried to keep up with the wind on her face and the thrumbing of her heart flying out behind her. It was a few minutes and suddenly, he shifted, the car decreased speed suddenly as he cranked the wheel into a fast turn. Cora whimpered as she struggled to hold on. The road was heavily lined with dense woods on both sides. It was more narrow. Jacob flew through the gears, the wheels tearing through the gravel of the earth beneath like it was chewing through a fattened meal.

“Six miles,” he said, eyes straying to the side mirror once more.

“Jacob…”

Her stomach was bubbling, threatening to reject her lunch. For a moment, he placed his hand against her thigh, giving it a little squeeze as a manner of comfort.

“Hold tight, baby,” he said without a look at her. “Just a little further and I’ll look the bastard in the face as we head for home. Just a little longer.”

She swallowed hard. He hissed as he guided the car into a long climb, losing speed quickly. He was whispering to himself as they crested. Cora’s eyes popped as the road downturned into a steep hill. The wind hitting her face felt like ice spitting into her eyes and mouth. She tried to turn her face down, but her stomach was fighting for space in her throat with her heart.

Cora attempted to hold on to and recall bits of prayer, poetry, and stories but they all evaporated as her mind whirred. Numbers. She settled on numbers. She began to count first the number of breaths that she took into her body. But the numbers were coming too fast and were not helping. Instead, she started to count the steps of a waltz. Measured. Controlled. Repetitive. 1-2-3… 1-2-3… She remembered the first time she danced with Jacob in the dancehall. Unlike dancing with Molly, there had been no reason to count. She felt like they floated through the space together, the only tie to the physical space had been the music. The way his hands had touched her that night had been so different from the touch he presented her the first time he kissed her, to the time at the train station. It was like a massive decrescendo and crescendo that continued to move like the hilly road they found themselves on.

1-2-3… 1-2-3… 1-2-3…

Ahead, she could see the town sign for Felch. Not that there was much to the village itself aside from a tiny general store, a post office and a town hall, it looked like gold to her at that moment.

1-2-3… 1-2-3… 1-2-3…

They crossed the line of the village and he threw the car into a hell bent speed that made her suck a huge breath in. He paid her no mind as the air screamed past them. The world began to slide to the side. Jacob grabbed the wheel and hit a sharp curve that left her internal organs falling behind her.

1-2-3… 1-2-3… 1-2-3…

Cora could not help the yelp that escaped from her as he spun the car around, taking off in the direction they just came from. He shifted hard and she nearly kissed the dash as he shoved the vehicle to speeding across the air once more.

1-2-3… 1-2-3… 1-2-3…

Opposite of them, it was a black auto that finally revealed itself to her eyes as they flew towards it. Jake did not slow as they approached it. He turned his chin just enough to acknowledge the men inside before continuing on, his face barely registering the interaction. They sped through the turn back south, slowing only when they reached Granite Bluff. Instead of continuing, he pulled off, pushing onto the main street of the town and stopping in the service center, well away from the main road in case the other car doubled back to try to follow once more.

Cora’s breathing came in gasps as he pried her fingers from the seat beneath her. He smoothed her hand before tugging her close to his frame. He was saying something but she could not really discern the words so much as feel the vibration of his voice.

“Full service, sir?” a voice asked from outside.

Jacob let her go but kept a hand on her arm. He spoke with the service man briefly before sitting back in his seat. Cora blew out a held breath. He gave her leg a little squeeze as the present moment seemed to finally catch up to both of them.

“My god,” she whispered. “Is this what it’s like when you’re on runs?”

He smiled. “A little, but not quite. I’m the bait. I keep the attention on me so that the trucks can move through undetected. As you know that gets a bit dicey. This was just a foot race today.”

“You know who that was?” she asked, capturing his attention with a firmer voice.

He shrugged. “That is who Sheriff Porter got as a driver. He’s the one that did the Earl in.”

Cora watched as the service man opened the hood of the Moon. The man’s eyebrows raised to his hairline as he looked over the engine. She grinned over the stunned exasperation the man had when he looked at Jacob.

“Not too many look like this, mister,” the man replied as he closed the hood. “That’ll be three dollars, please.”

“I suppose you mostly get t-buckets here,” Jake responded as he fished two five dollar bills from his pocket. “Keep the change and you didn’t see the Moon here today.”

The service man’s eyes popped a bit at the sight. “No, sir. No Moon here. Have a good day.”

Jacob revved the engine to life, capturing everyone's attention. Moving down the state highway once more, he looped his pinky through hers, grounding her to the moment. Cora’s mind swirled with questions, all of which needed to not be asked in the moment. Instead, she watched silently as the landscape rolled by. The late afternoon sun was warm on her face. They reached home before the evening was called into existence.

“Are you going to be well?” he asked as she collected herself before taking his hand to get out of the car.

She felt a sorrow touch her she did not expect to feel. Her lips rolled in between her teeth as Cora struggled to keep her composure. Sam appeared, his face warm with questions about their drive.

“I think I’m going to make it an early night, you two,” she said quietly, leaning in to kiss Jacob on the cheek.

“Finch?”

She was half way down the alley before he caught her by the elbow. Cora gasped at his touch.

“Cora, what gives?” he asked, making her stop and turn towards him.

She placed her focus on the button of his shirt that resided just over his heart. She was biting into the corner of her mouth as she tried to put the words she needed to say in order, but they slithered away like snowflakes in April; dissipating before they reached the ground. Before she could shake the feeling, he was wrapping his arms around her, pulling her into his heat and security. Her heart calmed. Her body felt exhausted.

“May I walk you home?” he asked against her ear.

She nodded. His fingers brushed against the round of her cheek.

“May I ask what is going on?” he asked, pulling back just enough to look into her face.

Her eyes landed on the dimple in his chin. “I knew those runs were dangerous. You make that car dance for you, don’t you, Jacob?”

His brows pinched. “I suppose so.”

“You scared me.” Cora’s voice was little more than a whisper, more fragile than the air, more delicate than an infant cry. “We had such a beautiful day and then…”

He circled her, drawing her in close with his lips on her ear. “I’m sorry, Finch. I’m sorry you had to go through it. There was no stop. I’m not sure if he would have allowed that.”

“Are you afraid?” she asked.

“I wouldn’t be able to make that car dance if I wasn’t.”

End of Act II. We have seven chapters and an epilogue left to our story! Those seven chapters are fast with car chases, mob violence, gun fights, death. So, take a breath. These seven chapters are going to be a bumpy ride.

I do have a tag list - you can find it here

@lvnterninthenight @doodle417 @luverleaver @jakesgrapejuice @fictional-duchess @whitesuitjake @milkgemini @positivegvfthings @songbirds-sweet @streamingcolors-gvf @gretavanbitches @samsurfgreenbass @gardensgatedaisy @babyhoneygvfarchive @myownparadise96 @josh-iamyour-mama @starcatchercarol @loveisonaroll @jakesstarlight @reesetrippingthelight @builtby-gvf @ignite-my-fire @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @wetkleenex-gvf @gold-mines-melting @starsasone @puzzle-gvf @mysticalstarcatcher @montenegroisr @takenbythemadness @way-to-go-lad @cal-a-bungaa @lightmylove-gvf @thewritingbeforesunrise @leftjudgeempathsuitcase @brokenbells11 @imborrowedshesblue @vanfleeter @sammysvanfeet @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @jaketlove @redsierra1960 @gvfmarge @becinabubblegvf @wildbluesorbit @sinarainbows

#greta van fleet #gvf #jake gvf #jake kiszka #josh kiszka #josh gvf #sammy gvf #sam gvf #daniel gvf #danny gvf #greta van fleet fanfic #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet fanfic au #greta van fleet au fic #greta van fleet x ocs #bootleggers and wildflowers

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devox2564 · 6 months

Text

In Your Heart: Chapter 11

Jake Kizka x fem reader

Thanks for being patient with me guys! Work has been insanely busy but I’m so ready to get back to this story! -E

Warnings: Minors DNI 18+ only, consumption of alcohol, unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving)

You lean up against the bar, decidedly drunk. The music booms around you, invigorating you as the liquor courses through your veins. The bartender slides another drink to you without a word and you tip your head at him in a sluggish gesture of thanks.

"I think you may have had enough darling." Jake drawls, drunk himself, and curls a hand around your waist.

"I think, you should mind your own goddamn business Jacob." You shoot back, grinning wickedly at him.

He snatches the glass from your hand and downs the amber liquid in one long gulp before slamming it down on the bar. "Let's get out of here baby."

"Who says I'm going anywhere with you?" You retort, being difficult on purpose.

"I've already told the others that we're leaving, and the girls are already gone anyway." He says casually.

"What do you mean the girls are already gone?" And you turn to glance back at the dance floor, seeing no signs of any of your friends.

"Tabby made a friend about twenty minutes after we arrived. Danny left with Anika about-" he checks a watch that is definitely not on his wrist and continues, "an hour ago, and Liz is back at Josh's presumably drinking herself to death with my brothers."

You scowl at him and stumble off of your stool. You can feel him roll his eyes and begin to follow you. You make a point to exaggerate the swing in your hips.

.....

The small of your back presses against the cool granite of your kitchen countertop. Jake's hands are tangled in your hair and his lips are on yours. He'd spent the majority of the Uber ride running his fingertips along the soft skin of your inner thighs. Torturous man. Now, as he lifts you onto the counter of the island, your skirt rises dangerously high and exposes a dark pair of lace panties. Purchased especially for him. His eyes darken a bit as they light on them. He runs his fingertips along the low neckline of your top thoughtfully.

"How much does this shirt mean to you?" He slurs a bit on the word shirt.

"Not much, why?" You giggle.

Without reply, he grasps the cool fabric with both hands and you hear buttons clatter to the tile. Your breasts exposed, covered only in slips of black lace, rise and fall as your breath hitches.

"All for me?" He asks playfully as his lips meet yours again.

His kisses travel from your lips, to your jawline, and down in a winding trail between your breasts and onto your stomach. His normally steady hands are drunken against the blistering heat of your skin. He clings to you as if he'll never touch you again. His mouth brushes against your thigh and you let out a soft groan into the quiet air of the kitchen.

"Shall I have you right here in the kitchen dahhling?" He croons in that drawling accent.

"No Oliver in bed Jacob." You gasp just as his fingers brush across the delicate lace covering you.

"We're not in bed baby." He says looking up at you and draws his hand away.

"God just come here." You almost whine. Impatient for him in your drunkenness.

"So now I'm god?" His glazed eyes twinkle with repressed laughter as he comes face to face with you again.

You reply by pulling him into a crushing kiss, effectively shutting him up. The two of you meld together in a frenzy often teeth and tongue. Even since that first night, every intimate moment with him has held in it a need that demands to be met. Each glance, each sentence, every touch is as desperate as the first. You didn't know if you'd ever really been in love before Jake. And of course you hadn't told him that you were in love with him. It had only been a few months and you weren't in the business of scaring men away. Especially one this good in bed. But when the two of you fell together like this, you knew he felt the same way. Words or no. And tonight was no different.

You hear his belt buckle unclasping in one skilled hand. As you shift a bit to remove your panties, his hands firmly hold you to the counter.

He pushes them aside with a hooked finger and you feel him press against you. The slip that your wetness affords is enough to draw a whimper from your lips. He doesn't torture you long though, entering you in one swift motion. The warmth in your body is almost instant, and the steady pace that he sets combined with the inhibition of drink ensures that your first climax is not far.

He pauses for a moment and pushes you gently down so that your back presses against the cool countertop. He retreats from you and quickly slips the panties down your legs, tossing them to the side. Jake spreads your legs and lowers himself down. Waves of pleasure roll through your body as his tongue swirls and circles your clit. His fingers enter you, curling up to find your sweet spot and caressing it. You cry out into the night as you writhe beneath his incredibly talented mouth. You want to hold back. You want to draw out this pleasure for as long as possible.

"Don't hold out on me." He says as his thumb replaces his tongue while his fingers continue to pump in and out of you.

"Jake.." your voice is so breathy that it's almost nonexistent.

His free hand travels to your lower stomach where he pushes your arched back down. You won't be able to hold back. The feeling growing inside you is too much. So much that you almost want it to stop. "You can't fight it baby just trust me." He croons softly.

His pace quickens and the pleasure building in your stomach explodes. Your orgasm rips through you, dripping down his hand and onto the countertop. The sensation is wholly new and unlike any feeling you've ever had before. The seconds draw out into hours as your body is wracked and your cries echo into every corner of the room. Jake does not wait for you to recover before rising to enter you again.

His thrusts are fast and desperate. The liquor running through his veins stripping him of any sense of restraint. Before you can even feel your first climax subsiding you are rolling towards your second. Your hands grip the edge of the counter above you as you lay spread before him. His hands clutch your hips so tightly that you expect to see the evidence of them branded on your skin later. Each thrust echoes the sound of skin on skin into the air. His thumb presses against your clit firmly and circles there in time with the rhythm of your bodies. Overly sensitive and swollen, this sensation pulls a strangled cry from your lips as the feeling pools again in your stomach.

You can see his orgasm approaching in the way that his brow furrows together. "Together baby. Please." He clips as his pace quickens.

Your only reply is another cry as he pushes you over the edge. At the same time you feel his release and hear his quiet moans. Jake's body stiffens and slows as he fills you up, eyes fixed on the connection between your two bodies. Your body finally relaxes as he retreats from you and you slump flat onto the counter. Your breath is still coming quickly in short ragged draws.

Jake kisses your stomach and gestures for you to take his hand. He pulls you up to sit and holds in a drunken giggle.

"What?" You ask with a laugh.

"We've got a mess to clean up." He says gesturing to the floor. The evidence of your first orgasm.

"That's all you babe. I'm going to take a shower." You smile wryly at him, hopping down and sauntering away.

He wraps his arms around you before you can get too far. His face nuzzles into your neck and he plants a soft kiss onto your shoulder. The two of you stay like this for a moment in the middle of the kitchen.

"Mmm, my girl." He says softly, swaying you from side to side.

You caress his hands, feeling the rough callouses beneath your own fingertips. You do love him. And you want to tell him. But now's not the right time. That doesn't stop the feeling from swelling in your chest and pulling tears into the corners of your eyes. You remember that night, the last time you two were this drunk together. You never would have guessed that you'd be here with him now. Just as drunk but much, much happier.

....

You wake suddenly in the middle of the night out of a dead sleep. Jake's arm is slung across your stomach and his breath is slow and steady in your ear. Slinking out from under him, you make your way to the bathroom not bothering to turn on the light. As soon as you reach the doorway you feel you stomach lurch uncomfortably. Vomit is rising up your throat and you barely make it to the toilet before emptying your stomach contents into the bowl. The cold tile presses against your knees. Vomiting up alcohol never loses its edge. It's not your first time and it won't be your last.

Finishing up, you rinse your mouth and get a few swallows of water before deciding that you're ready to go back to bed. The short distance in the dark back to your bed is normally done in a haze of sleep and relief. But tonight while you're a little more wakeful, you're a bit uneasy. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up as you make your way through open space. A room that normally feels so familiar is strange and foreign. You shake it off as you reach the edge of the bed and slip back beneath the covers.

Back in the safety of the bed, Jake's arms wrap around you. The sleepiness stolen by your stomach is returning now. The split second of unease has passed and you find yourself feeling silly. A grown woman, afraid of the dark? Sleep comes easy, and the feel of Jake's skin against yours distracts you from the feeling that someone in the dark might be watching.

Taglist: @freyjalw @edgingthedarkness @gvfmarge @sinarainbows

#greta van fleet #jake gvf #jake kiszka #greta van fic #slow burn #soft fic #smut

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v4mpire-empire · 8 months

Text

anything for you - an until dawn mini fic

josh- mines

"Hannah? Is that you?"

Hannah grabs him by the collar and stares him deep in the eye. Her piercing, peeling eyes. Her body all wrong.. contorted and skinny and too big. Her jaw, wide and angry. Her teeth.. or fangs were stained with blood and small chunks of human flesh. She looked worse than any monster Josh would see in picture books and read about in folk tales. She could easily tear him apart in seconds. And he knew she was going too.

Josh had never been so afraid, but also somewhat.. calm. Because at least he would die at the hands of his sister.

He closes his eyes.

He was ready.

"i'm sorry"

He wasn't just apologising to Hannah. It was to everyone. To Sam, to Chris, and to everyone he had wronged tonight and all his life.

His heart skips a beat. His body hit the floor. He hit his head, and he hit it hard. Through his blurred and disorientated vision, he could make out the long skinny figure of the wendigo - no, his sister, running away. She was hungry for death and disaster, but not her brother's - well, at least not for now.

The world span around him, laughing at him, mocking him.

His eyes fell shut.

His world became a blur.

Josh would wake up occasionally. Maybe it was a gust of wind slapping his face awake, or the footsteps of danger, or maybe, just his body trying to keep him alive. Who knows.

How much time had passed? Minutes? Hours? Days?

He was finally awake for longer than a few minutes. He pulled himself up with all his force and stood still for a moment, adjusting to his bleak surroundings. Was this a hallucination?

No. This was real. And he needed to move.

Josh took a step forward and nearly fell. He halted and peered over the body of water in front of him. To be able to escape this hell, he would have to cross the water to get to the other side.

Fuck.

He plunged into the water, wincing, dizzy, disorientated. If he passed out in the ice cold water, he wouldn't survive. But the odds didn't look like they were in his favour...

sam- blackwood pines police department

" I know how much you want him to be alive, Sam! But you saw it happen. That thing... it fucking took him!"

"She. She took him. Hannah took him. And.. I don't care what you think, Mike. I can feel it. He's alive. I don't give a fuck if I sound insane right now, because I know. I know he's still there.. cold... alone.. helpless. I have to get him out of there. "

Sam turned back around to finish her packing, stuffing anything that could come handy into her backpack as fast as she could. She already wasted too much time doing that fucking interview and getting a small amount of first aid. As if a bandage would actually help right now, she scoffed.

There wasn't much to bring with her. After all, she was in a police department. All the stuff that could protect her was locked away. She could only find a lighter, a bottle of vodka, and the new set of clothes the police department had given her.

Suddenly, the door slammed shut and locked.

"I'm sorry,Sam."

Mike.

"But.. we can't let you go back. Not after.. what we saw.. what we've been through. We're actually alive. We survived this crazy fucking night. If you go back, you know what will happen to you."

" MIKE, OPEN THE DOOR. OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR"

Sam pounded at the door, screaming. But she stopped as soon as she started. If she really wanted to get out of here as fast as possible, she would have to be calm and clever about it. She had about 12 hours of daylight left to get back, find josh , and get out of the mountains before it was dark. Dark would mean the wendigos would begin their hunt.

The plan.. it was ambitious. Too much, too fast.. too risky...

But Sam was prepared to die trying.

If anyone actually read this, thank you! Hope you enjoyed it and lmk if you want a part 2 :)

#until dawn #josh washington #sam giddings #mike munroe #hannah washington #mini fic #my fic

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daisyful-gvf · 2 years

Text

sweet as berries (part 8)

18+

*********************************************************

pairings: josh x reader

word count: 3.6k

notes: merry christmas!! i know it’s super late in the day (technically the next day), and that this part is a little disjointed, but i had to get this to y’all. love u all very much and i love berries josh. also there’s a lot of smut in here lmao enjoy

*very minimally edited sorry 🤪*

*********************************************************

-❄️🍓❄️-

He made good on his word—after you’d said ‘i love you’, the sex was somehow even better.

It was like he couldn’t stop saying it, between your thighs, into the crook of your neck, against your lips as he rolled himself against you. It poured from him, and he meant it every time.

You were no different, letting it gasp out of you every time his hands touched you a certain way, or when the dim light caught the highlights of his face, making him look like an angel.

You finally felt very close to him; some invisible boundary had been knocked down, and there was no shame, no hesitancy. When he fucked you, your skin touched everywhere, hot and electric. Your breath tangled with one another’s, his sweat dampened your hair, his tongue was learning you inside and out.

All the while, between gasps and groans and curses, now you could both say what you really felt— i love you. That night, he said it as he came, hips rolling hard against you, and you felt something shift. You needed him like water, now. There was really no point of return, and you were fine with it.

-❄️-

Josh didn’t really care for the cold. Ironic, being from Michigan, sure. True, nonetheless. He hated the way his teeth would chatter, how his skin felt sore from the bitter wind.

You were able to convince him to drive around and look at Christmas lights, though, as long as you let him keep the heat on full blast.

You’d each finished up the respective traditions with your family before he had picked you up. He met you at your family’s porch and walked you across the slick driveway, letting you clutch his arm. He was in sweats, dark green sweater, and a black, fuzzy scarf. You were glad he went the casual route, as you had too, opting for a large sweatshirt and yoga pants.

“Made us some spiced hot chocolates, sweet girl,” he pointed to them as he shut his door. You thanked him and took a sip, enjoying the trail of warmth it left through your body as you swallowed.

Despite the heater and the seat warmers, the Jeep was frigid. He breathed into his hands and rubbed them together. Quickly, you reached over and grabbed them, holding them in yours and breathing on them. He smiled.

“I missed you,” he grinned, leaning in for a long kiss.

“Saw you yesterday,” you said between kisses.

“Too long,” he answered back.

You chuckled, finally separating.

“Where to, little snowflake?” He smiled.

“Oh really?” you blushed, “Snowflake?”

“Mmhm,” he put the car in drive, “You’re special, remember? Like a snowflake.”

“S’cute,” you murmured, “Um, we can just drive through some neighborhoods nearby. I think most people have lights up by now,”

He nodded. “My hands are still fucking freezing,” he shivered.

“Here,” you took his right hand in yours and guided it to your thigh, just between your knees.

“Ooooh,” he sighed, “How are you so warm? You’re like a furnace,”

“Feminine power,” you laughed, “I dunno, my thighs are always warm.”

“Mm,” he rubbed his thumb against your leg, “I like it,”

His voice was low in a way you recognized.

“Christmas lights, Josh. Innocent, pretty Christmas lights.”

“I know, I know,” he murmured, “It’s just really warm between your legs. Makes me wanna…” he bit his lip, cutting himself off with a soft groan, “Nevermind. Christmas lights. Christmas lights.”

“Exactly,” you grinned.

He drove around for the better part of an hour, winding in and out of Frankenmuth’s charming neighborhoods. There was snow everywhere, and plenty of festive decor, and truly, you felt warm and fuzzy with it all.

“Look at those,” he would point out at certain lights, eyes gleaming like a child’s. His hand stayed buried between your knees for warmth, and you rubbed his forearm gently. You couldn’t imagine a better way to spend Christmas Eve.

Finally, after you’d seen just about all of the lights you could find in the suburb, he began to make his way back to your apartment.

His hand squirmed slightly between your knees, and you began to wonder if it was really even cold anymore or if he just wanted to keep it there.

You didn’t have to wonder for long, because at a stop sign just outside of the neighborhood you’d left, he snuck a glance over to you and swallowed back a whine just late enough for you to hear it.

“Josh?” You asked softly. His head turned quickly to you, eyes slightly hooded.

“Yeah?” He breathed out.

You looked at his hand between your legs and then looked back silently inquiring.

“What?” he asked, voice low again.

“Are…”

“Berry, I’m sorry, I can’t—“ he gripped the innermost part of your thigh hard and looked at you with pathetic need, “You’re so warm here, I wanna touch you. Can I?”

Oh, he was impossible to resist. You let out a shaky breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Baby,” you said, “we’re like twenty minutes from my place, can you—“

“Please don’t make me wait, sweetheart, please,” he nudged his hand further up your thigh. “I will if you want, of course, I just…”

You knew he would never push you, and his begging was born solely of built up need. And god, did the thought of that make you positively crave him.

Wordlessly, you let your legs fall open for him.

“Oh, thank you, sweet girl, I…”

A whine sounded from the back of his throat and his hand slid slowly up to caress you. He sighed heavily as he cupped you.

“Fuck,” he breathed, “Make out with me, come here,” he pulled your head in with his free hand and you whimpered against the kiss.

Eagerly, you slid your tongue against his as he began to rub over you with some amount of pressure. You couldn’t feel anything too closely with the fabric between his hand and your body, but the touch still made your face flush. He was kissing back just as greedy, his lips quickly becoming slick and swollen.

“Back seat?” he whined into the kiss.

“Not here,” you breathed back, “We’re too close to houses“

“Fuck,” he sighed, “Okay, let me—“ he kissed you hard, “Let me pull off somewhere,”

You pulled away as he began to put the car in drive.

“You sure you don’t just wanna go to my place? It’s not—“

“Berry, I love you and I’m sorry to cut you off, but I’m so sure. I need you too bad to wait.”

He drove with his left hand and kept his right cupped against you, rubbing softly every so often as he would drive. He didn’t go too far, maybe two minutes away, but it was a much more secluded road.

The moment the car rolled to a stop, he put it in park and pulled you back against his mouth.

You were groaning now too, both at the electric brush of his soft lips and with the way he was coming apart.

“Back seat?” He asked again.

“Yeah,” you sighed, “Yeah.”

“Fuck yes,” he groaned against your lips before breaking away hard and fast, wasting no time exiting the car and re-entering to the back seat.

You followed his lead, making your way out and back into the vehicle.

He helped you into his lap in the backseat, and immediately you could feel the hard outline of him against you as he pulled you into a kiss.

His hand—the warm one—flirted with your waistband.

“Can I?” he asked. You nodded against him and he nodded back, softly sliding his hand into the front of your pants, under your cotton underwear. As his finger slipped against you, a groan vibrated from his chest.

“Fuck me, you’re so warm,” he wasted no time slipping two fingers inside you, curling them as he stared into your eyes. His were half-lidded and dark, his jaw slack as he fucked them slowly into you.

The fullness of his fingers made your head fall back, and a drawn out moan escaped you as he worked.

“Why’s my pretty girl so wet, hm?” He breathed into the crease of your neck. He peppered soft kisses to the fragile skin.

“You,” you rasped out.

“Mm, have you been waiting for this?”

You kept your head back, letting him lick at your neck.

“Maybe,” you breathed.

“Yeah?” he sounded cocky, and you hated that you loved it, “You just love my fingers, don’t you, pretty snowflake?”

“Fuck,” you hissed out. He was working quickly now, and the wet sounds of it filled the car, making you blush.

“Kiss me,” he said, tilting your chin to him with his free hand.

You kissed him hard, teeth bumping together. He groaned against you and gripped the back of your neck with a firm pressure.

“You think you can cum from just my fingers, Berry?” he breathed into your mouth.

You pulled and pressed your forehead to his. His fingers had you writhing and your vision blurring.

“Think so,” you nodded, “I’ll try,”

“Don’t try, sweetheart,” he kissed your cheek, “Just let it feel good. And tell me if you want something different,”

You nodded and let your head rest on his shoulder.

“Here,” he murmured, and brought his free hand to his mouth. He licked his thumb and brought it down to swirl easy circles over your clit. Your stomach tensed as the jolt of pleasure coursed through you.

“How’s that?” he murmured.

“Yeah,” you sighed against him, “Keep going,”

“Oh I will,” he kissed your cheek again, “Pretty girl is soaking my fingers,”

“Josh,” your voice was pitched high and almost whiney, “Faster,”

He nodded and listened, quickening the pace of the fingers inside you. In a few moments, you felt breathless, teetering on the edge.

“Come on,” he rumbled near your ear, “Cum on my fingers, little snowflake. You know I love you. Know I just want you to feel good,”

With much too loud of a yelp, you were trembling and collapsing into him.

“That’s it, sweet girl,” he removed his thumb and brought his hand up to your face, holding it gently so he could press kisses to your cheek and jaw.

You came back to him after a few deep breaths. He watched you with rapt attention, caressing your cheek with his thumb.

“Good?” he asked softly. You nodded dazedly and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

“I wanna be inside of you so bad, sweetheart,” He spoke quietly, lips brushing yours.

“Please,” you breathed.

“You’re too fucking sweet,” he sucked on your lower lip, “I should be the one begging, with how good you feel,” he curled his fingers, making his point. “C’mere,” he slid you back a couple inches on his lap, his fingers still inside you, allowing him to push his sweats down and pull himself free.

With some amount of struggling, you tugged your pants off so they hung only on one of your legs by the ankle.

As soon as you were settled, your hand wrapped around him almost on instinct, touching him languidly and pulling a shaky exhale from his chest.

For a moment, he continued dragging his fingers in and out of you as you stroked him slowly.

“When you’re ready, Berry,” he said, brows furrowed as he watched your hand over him.

You were very ready—you leaned forward and let him withdraw his fingers as you lined him up, sinking down and letting him stretch you.

“Fuck,” he hissed, “Mm, warm me up, sweetheart,”

Your jaw dropped open as you ground against him. He cursed again and you whimpered at the full feeling. His hands gripped your ass as you began to move.

“Feels so good,” he breathed, looking up at you, “You’re so hot,”

A bashful laugh escaped you, but quickly you were cut off with a groan as he hit a spot deep in you.

“Sweet girl loves this, huh?” he grinned, “You like my cock, sweetheart?”

“Fuck, Josh,” you huffed out, “Talk to me,”

“Mm, and say what, babe?” his lips dragged along your jaw line, “That you’re so fucking tight and warm I feel like I could cum already if I wanted to?”

“Yeah…” you breathed. You felt dizzy, and his words made the heat in your belly stronger.

“Or that I love how pretty and fucked out you look?” he stroked your hair, “Cause I do. You look so pretty, babe, riding me,”

“Jesus christ…” your breath was heavy as you slammed yourself down into him again and again.

“You wanna make me cum, huh sweetheart?” He thumbed over your lip, “Fucking me so good,”

“Josh, I—please,” you groaned. You had no idea what you were asking for, but the way he was speaking to you was driving you insane.

“I’ll cum for you, babe, just keep—“ his breath hitched, “—Fuck, just like that, Berry. Kiss me.”

Your mouth crashed into his, urgent and messy. Soon, he was death gripping your hips, releasing into you and bringing you along with him.

Through the steamed up windows, you could still see the glow of Christmas lights in the distance.

-❄️-

Waking up to Josh, all soft brown curls, creamy skin, dark eyelashes—was single handedly better than any Christmas present. As you came out of sleep, you watched him, and you ran a finger through the ringlet curl at his forehead.

Your parents had agreed to let you both do your own Christmas festivities as long as it was early enough in the morning to still make it to breakfast at their house. And you were grateful, because what a fucking way to start one of your favorite days of the year.

“Merry Christmas,” you spoke softly against his cheek, pressing a kiss to it after. His lashes fluttered as he stirred slightly, slowly blinking open his eyes. Your chest physically ached as they focused on you, warm amber gaze.

“Hey,” he said back, voice rasping from sleep, “Merry Christmas, sweetheart,”

His lips tugged into a sleepy smile and suddenly you had to kiss him. You straddled him, careful not to be too rough with him just waking up, and settled against his lips. He hummed against you, arms wrapping around your torso, letting you lean against him fully.

“Love you,” you whispered against his lips.

“Oh, I love you,” he said back, holding your face in his hands and pressing kisses to it, “What a nice way to wake up, hmm?”

You nodded and kissed him again.

“Wanna make coffee and do presents?” You asked against his cheek.

“Yeah,” he agreed, nuzzling his face to yours, “Wanna do other things too, but that can wait,”

You laughed, “Yeah, it’ll have to wait. We have places to be, sweet boy,”

He gave a full grin at the name, “Alright,” he sighed, “Kiss me slow one more time, Berry,”

Without a moment of hesitation, you leaned forward and kissed him, slotting your lips together. His hand settled on the back of your head and kept you pressed to him, and the slow drag of his tongue over your bottom lip was addicting.

“You sure you don’t wanna stay in bed for a bit?” He asked, his voice a low buzz against your mouth.

Your breath was shaky as his other hand trailed slowly down your waist, over your ass. He gripped gently, rolling you down into him, making his breath stutter.

“We shouldn’t, babe, we have to…” you whimpered as he sucked on your bottom lip.

“I know,” he kissed you again, “But doesn’t it sound nice?”

His voice was working and he knew it; so low and sleepy and turned on. He was coaxing you into the idea even though you were serious—there was no extra time.

The hand he had on your ass trailed around to the front of you, pressing against the front of your sleep shorts. Your eyes rolled at the contact.

“You don’t wanna come sit on my face for a little bit?” He murmured, “I’ll treat her so sweet,”

“Josh…” it left you in a shaky breath.

“I know, baby. Come here. Let me,” he lifted himself up so he could slide down the bed, reclining fully. He motioned you upwards and you hesitated only a moment, considering the scolding you’d get for being late to family breakfast.

But his eyes, god, how they looked when he was aroused. And his flushed cheeks, and his messy hair—

You slid your shorts off and climbed up on him.

“Look at you,” he kissed your thighs as you settled over his face, “This is the best present you could give me, sweetheart,” he murmured, gripping the tops of your thighs, asking you to lower yourself.

Immediately, his velvet tongue made you whimper. He laughed softly at the pathetic noise, and lapped at you again.

You came apart for him like that, thighs shaking as he got you there. Then, he fucked you slow, in the daze and glow of the morning light filtering through the blinds.

-❄️-

After a quick shower and more making out, you settled in the living room, on the soft carpet near the christmas tree. You each donned a cup of coffee and matching christmas pajamas that you’d picked up the week prior. A vintage holiday vinyl you’d thrifted crooned low in the background.

You’d agreed to keep presents small—with Josh primarily making his money from a gig here and there, and you working off tips from a coffee shop, there was no need for extravagance.

“Look at Pepper,” he smiled, nodding towards your cat. She was swatting at a golden bulb of an ornament, nearly knocking it off the tree. You giggled at it, watching her play.

“She’s easily entertained,”

“Pepper and I have that in common, I guess,” he grinned, sipping his coffee. “Here, Berry, you start,”

He reached for one of the few presents under the tree. It was wrapped in a snowflake-covered paper, a small box about the size of your palm.

You unwrapped it with an exciting sort of anxiety buzzing in your fingertips, wondering what sorts of things he’d picked out—you didn’t have lists to go off of.

Quickly, you could tell it was jewelry. You opened the small gold box to reveal a dainty gold toned necklace with a small, tear dropped shaped pendant.

“It’s, um,” he smiled, “It’s strawberry quartz. Ya know, cause,” he flipped his hand up in a shrugging motion and giggled.

Your smile spread wide all on its own.

“I love you,” you breathed, leaning in to kiss him. The kiss was mostly just smiling with your lips barely pressed together, but you didn’t mind.

“Your turn,” you grinned, passing him one of the presents.

He ripped open the paper after complimenting you on the wrapping job.

“Berry!” he exclaimed, “How’d you find this?”

He spun the John Denver vinyl around in his hands, reading over the back of it in awe.

“Luck,” you smiled.

“Ah, Rocky Mountain Christmas. How perfect,” he grinned, “Thank you, sweetheart,” he gave you a kiss on the cheek.

“Alright,” he handed you the next gift and sipped his coffee as you opened it.

It was another smaller package, a little bigger than your hand. You unwrapped it carefully, revealing a small, cream-colored photo album. Your breath hitched even before you opened it.

The inner cover had a message written in gold pen.

To my Berry,

Merry Christmas. I love you and cherish you always.

-Josh

“Babe…” you smiled wildly.

“I actually had written that before you said ‘i love you’ the other day,” he grinned, “So technically, I beat you to it.”

You laughed and began to turn the pages.

He watched you closely, face full of affection, as you flipped through it. Even before he explained, you understood.

“They’re from the disposable camera,” he said softly, “From Halloween.”

You nodded, taking it in. The photo of him holding your hand in the pumpkin patch, of your bracelets from the gift shop, of you smiling. The way he saw you seemed so pure, you could not help the tears in your eyes.

“You like it?” He smiled.

“Yeah,” you breathed, setting it down to wrap him in a hug as you blinked away the tears, “I love it. Thank you,”

He hummed and kissed your cheek.

“Okay, babe, we probably need to hurry,” you handed him his other present. He nodded, tearing it open.

“Oh, wow,” he smiled, holding up the bandana.

“It’s vintage,” you smiled.

“This is so cool, Berry,” he turned the burnt orange fabric over gently in his hands, tracing over the paisley pattern, “Thank you,” he pulled your face in for another kiss, “I love it.”

“One more,” you handed him the last present.

“You got me three, Berry? Trying to make me feel bad?”

“Oh hush,” you smiled, “This one didn’t cost money, so we’re even.”

He bit his lip as he opened the gift. He gasped softly as he revealed it.

“Oh, you know me well,” he smiled, holding up the CD, “My girl made me a mixtape, huh?”

You nodded, grinning, “You are a musician, Josh, don’t give me too much credit.”

“That I am,” he grinned. He read the handwritten tracklist you’d written on it, “How’d I get a hot girlfriend that also has great taste in music?”

“I dunno,” you hugged him, toppling him over to the ground. He giggled and set the CD down, “Guess you better keep treating her nice and maybe she’ll stay.”

“You just use me for orgasms and I know it, Berry.”

“I can do that on my own, Josh,” you kissed his cheek, “You are pretty good for that, though,”

“Oh, shut up,” he laughed, pulling you in against his lips.

“Merry Christmas,” he said softly, “This has been the best Christmas morning I’ve had in a while,”

“Me too,” you kissed him softly, “Merry Christmas, babe.”

-❄️🍓❄️-

taglist:

@starshine-wagner @writingcold @kels-gvf @aconfusedhippie @fearless-wanderer @thehourbeforesunrise @madz-0217 @gretavanbitches @doodle417 @rhythm-of-space @milkgemini @st4rdust-ch0rds @myownparadise96 @gretavanfleas @josh-iamyour-mama @spark-my-nature @saltydogkiszka @jordierama @sammiejane22 @jakekiszkastaurussuit @babyhoneygvf @gabyvanfleet @gretavanslut @dannyandthekiszkas @freckled-wonder

#gvf fanfiction #gvf fic #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van smut #gvf fics #gvf smut #josh kiszka fic #josh kiszka x you #josh kiszka fanfiction #sweet as berries

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weirdefilippis · 7 months

Note

Hi! Hey guys. Hope all is well! I was re-reading some Academy-X books & I got to wondering about the powers/levels & if any specific thought went into them. Like why was Josh an Omega vs. Julian. (Specifically b/c you've said he had potential for Phoenix host in David's dream sequence.) Or TK vs. aerokenisis vs. electrokinesis in an all out sparring match who would win. Or, just any background or errata you remember about the X-Kids and their powers. Thanks! Still love the X-kids 20 years later!

We got permission to label Josh as an Omega level mutant. We never got that permission with Julian. And by the time we put the Phoenix visual reference in, that was our way of potentially nudging him up to that status as well.

We did not stay long enough to follow up and make that reference to Julian being Omega officially part of the story.

Had we stayed, we would have asked to put that in. We wanted that for Julian.

As to the other questions, can you be specific? Who are you asking about in terms of 'who would win'? Happy to map our thoughts on specific pairings.

In general, Julian's TK had greater combat potential than Sofia's aerokinesis, but primarily on the basis of control. Julian had fine control over his TK, and this gave him a more versatile approach in combat. Sofia's winds can hit hard, but it's a full wind, without fine control. She was working on control (the jenga tower scene) but to have control, she had to sacrifice raw power.

In terms of background and errata, is there anyone specific you want to know about?

#ask #anonymous #new x men academy x #hellion #julian keller #elixir #josh foley

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wonusite · 11 months

Note

spooki szn nerd!josh (nerd joshie AGAIN because 1) I feel like that's just my Brand™ at this point and 2) I cannot get this bitch out of my head!!! Gonna have to start charging him rent at this point) headcannon since is officially October

You dragging josh to a halloween costume party and surprise surprise, he's unimpressed and like 😐 the whole time. You probably had to wrangle him into some costume because "it's crucial we dress up joshie!!" and you being you, of course it's some kind of couples costume. You're probably dressed in something slutty because of course you are, and the constant male attention you're getting is starting to piss josh off. Even though you stay tethered to him the entire night (really, you might as well just be a hyperactive puppy he's holding the leash to. You excitedly hop from group to group, seeing and talking to everyone but you're always looking back, making sure he's within hand holding vicinity. fucking simp) the amount of wandering eyes over your body, the predatory gazes of the men (and several women tbh) trying to get a peak at a flash of your panties when you turn a little too fast, they're all starting to cause jealousy to settle in Joshua's bones (especially the one in his pants AYEEEEE).

Usually when you drag him to your frat parties you have a little more class when it comes to hooking up with you boyfriend, typically waiting until you get home to go at each other like feral rabbits. This time though, josh can't seem to push down the annoyance that fills his entire body at people seemingly challenging his claim over you, so as soon as he gets a chance to, his dragging you upstairs and into some poor guy's bedroom, not even giving you a chance to speak before he has you bent on all fours, roughly grabbing your panties and pulling them down, giving you a few harsh spanks to your ass before delivering a couple to your sopping wet cunt.

Of course, you're already wet for him. It's not like you can be blamed, he's your boyfriend and you're ferociously down bad for him. At this point I'm almost sure he could turn you on by taking a shit but I digress!! He's been hard since he first had the idea of fucking you at the party, and wastes no time rectifying that. He slides in without warning, knowing you love when he's rough with you, treating you like some insatiable slut (though tbh you are, just like, exclusively for him).

You've taken his cock hundreds, no, probably thousands of times at this point (it's actually quite impressive, you'd probably have a Guiness world record if that kind of thing existed for sex) and you moan at the sudden intrusion, clenching wildly around his cock. He starts thrusting almost immediately, forcing every last inch of his big cock into your tight little hole, groaning when you whimper and cry out for him. He grabs at your hair and encourages you to cry out for him, to moan his name, to make sure everyone at the party knows who exactly it is that's making you feel so good, that he's the only one who could ever fill your pussy up like this. Like the absolutely angel you are, you obey his every command, preening at the cooing and attention he gives you when you listen to his instructions.

It's not long before he cums, filling you to the brim and bringing you over the edge with him. You think it's the end and start to make yourself presentable to join the party again but Joshua roughly throws you back on the bed, your pussy clenching involuntarily at the motion. The smirk he gives you as he turns you on your back to stare at him tells you you're in for a long, long night.

After 4, or maybe 5? more rounds, you're thoroughly fucked out and Joshua's finally beginning to feel spent. He figures he'll get you home so he can quite literally fuck you through the rest of the night, so he grabs your discarded panties and winds them around his index and middle finger, slowly starting to push them into your ravaged cunt that's still leaking his cum. You babble, an incoherent mess of "yes joshie", "please baby" and "give it to me please" spilling from your lips. And just because he's a generous man, Joshua, the ever so sweet gentleman, starts rubbing your clit, making you cum around his fingers and your panties.

You're absolutely delirious at this point, needing his help to stand up. And luckily for your boyfriend, when you're fucked out you're needy. The whole time he's trying to get the two of you dressed and presentable-ish so you can leave, you're whining, clinging to him, sucking hickey after hickey into his neck to try to leave your mark and stake your claim on him, though it's not really necessary. His hair is a mess, a light sheen of sweat making stray hairs stick to his forehead. Both your lips are red, swollen and now, courtesy of you not being able to keep your hands to yourself, you both have an array of red and purple bruises all over your necks (he leaves quite a few on your hips and thighs too, but he'll be damned if anyone else gets a glimpse of that). You, even after Josh's fruitless attempts, look like a hot fucking mess. Your makeup is smudged beyond salvation and your hair is a knotted mess thanks to round 3 where he came all over your face and made an absolutely sloppy mess out of you.

You start making your way down the stairs and out of the party, Joshua careful to shield your now bare ass and pussy from onlookers from below. Getting you to do anything when you're this cock drunk isn't an easy feat, with you clinging to and kissing Joshua at every single opportunity you can find. Some party goers that have only heard rumours about you being enamoured by the stoic nerd are slack-jawed, unable to comprehend that you, the hot, bubbly, outgoing, popular cheerleader is this much of a simp for someone who they can only describe as an attractive brick wall. Paying them no mind, your boyfriend guides the two of you out of the party, pressing kisses on your lips and whispering I love yous into your ear periodically.

The rest of the night is a blur of sex and aftercare in your shared appartment, with you falling asleep almost instantly the second you feel Joshua's big arms wrap around you as the two of you finally settle down for the night. Waking up in the morning, the previous nights events flood your memory, and Joshua wakes up to you with your big bright eyes happily blinking up at him, a wide smile on your face.

He looks at you with an inquisitive look, a "can I help you?” slipping out with a chuckle.

You shake your head with a smile, leaning up to press a sweet kiss to his lips, leaving him with nothing but a "happy Halloween baby" and a mischievous twinkle in your eye.

hehe this was supposed to be a short little headcannon oops I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless :')

#how am i meant to function in these conditions #this was everything to me #and i’m never getting over it #ask #thatgirlfromwindsor

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