#…is normal christmas wearing a veil??? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

donutloverxo · 4 years

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Good little wife

Note - Inspired by a request I got long ago and written for the happy hoelidays challenge I'm cohosting with my sister hoes @navybrat817 and @stargazingfangirl18 . I used the prompts two idiots in love + Character A loves Christmas. Character B hates it. A melts Bs cold heart Dividers by @firefly-graphics .

Summary - Your husband makes up to you for being a Grinch and a meanie to you throughout your marriage.

Warnings - 18+ only, smut(m/f), dub con, older man/younger woman, arranged marrige, leaking nudes, daddy kink, blood play, virginity/innocence kink, loss of virginity, virgin reader, painful sex, misogyny, mob activities.

Pairing - Mob!Andy Barber x reader

Word count - 8k

“You look beautiful, cookie,” your mother raved, pressing her lips to your cheek, “He’s a lucky man.”

You only hummed. Staring at your refection, seeing someone you didn’t even recognize.

Your white lace dress somewhat conservative, still really pretty, something you would’ve been more than happy to wear if your circumstances weren’t so depressing.

You almost let out a sardonic laugh, you didn’t get to choose your husband but at least you chose your wedding gown.

“It’ll be alright,” your mother picked at your hair, noticing your evident sadness, you’ve never been one to hide how you feel anyway, “you’ll learn to love him. He’s very successful.”

“I always thought ‘money doesn’t make you happy',” something she had said to you so many times over the years.

“That’s just a fairy tale. People fall out of love, run out of things to talk about, men cheat, in the end all that’s left is how well he can provide for you,” she stated.

You checked your phone as soon as you could, going through your messages to see if your boyfriend, or rather your now ex boyfriend, had sent you anything. You still naively hoped that he'd come on a white horse and sweep you off and away, so you wouldn’t have to marry someone you’ve else. So you wouldn’t have to give up your freedom forever and just be someone’s wife.

But you saw nothing. He hadn’t talked to you, not since your father found out about you both. Since he was from a family your daddy hated with a passion, and you were supposed to as well, your father made you cut all times with him. Locked you in your room in a timeout till you came to your senses.

After over three weeks he came to you, telling you how he was ready to forgive you and move on. You were so happy. For a minute you let yourself believe that this was your father, he loved you unconditionally, of course he'd set aside whatever vain feud he has and let you be with your love.

All your hopes were crushed when he told you he had selected a husband for you whom you have to marry in just a month. That you had to drop out of college since you wouldn’t need that degree anyway.

You always did believe that he had your best interests at heart, you wanted to believe it this time as well, but you just couldn’t.

Cringing inwardly when he kissed your cheeks, “You look beautiful,” he told you, cold eyes staring at you, “Don’t try anything stupid. Andrew is a good man,” he looped your arm in with his.

“He’s more than a decade older than me,” you argued, biting your lip as he squeezed your arm to warn you.

You slapped a fake smile on your face, walking down, one step after another as everyone looked at you in awe.

This is supposed to be the happiest day of your life...

But when you looked at Andy waiting for you at the alter you felt nothing but grave anxiety which made your teeth clatter, his palms joined together at his front, he did look handsome with his tux and neat beard. You have had a crush on him for a long time but you’ve never even had a real conversation with him, you didn’t know him. No one did.

Your heart filled with dread as your father handed you over to Andy, patting him on his shoulder, “Take good care of her.”

“I will,” Andy smiled.

You weren’t really there, maybe your body was but your soul had left you to maybe make the whole ordeal less painful. The priest read the vows asking you if you were ready to take him as your husband forever.

“I do,” since you had no other choice.

“I do,” he repeated.

You felt a shiver jolt up your spine when his fingers grazed yours, putting the thin silver band on your finger before lifting your veil to press his lips to yours, giving you a chaste, barely there kiss as everyone cheered you on.

The rest of the evening was a blur, you could barely register what had happened, everyone sweetly calling you ‘Mrs Barber’ only making you more nervous.

Andy however, was cordial and formal as always, shaking their hands and thanking them.

Since you hadn’t really taken any dance lessons you were left to simply wing it with him at your first dance. With your clammy hands in his you tried to match his pace as he lead you, bumping into his feet with yours more than once.

He leaned in to whisper in your ear, “Relax,” making you shudder.

You looked up at him, he had barely said two words to you but your grandmother often said ‘Eyes are the windows to the soul’.

And Andy’s eyes were so... kind, like a blue ocean you could happily drown in. He almost looked at you as if he were fond of you.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad...

You didn’t really expect Andy to carry you over the threshold, that was just a silly little fantasy you’ve always had and you knew he’d never indulge you in it but he didn’t even hold the door open for you.

You looked around his condo, so grey and boring, looked like it was out of a magazine catalogue, you felt so out of place there.

Naturally, you followed him to his bedroom, watching him wake his coat off, followed by his cuffs as he rolled his sleeves up.

You went over what you wanted to say in your head, how do you tell your husband that you’re a virgin, on your wedding night--that was something your grandmother never gave you advice on. You could’ve used her wisdom then.

With your mouth suddenly dry you tried to speak as he poured himself a drink, “Um... I’ve...”

“What?” he looked at you, quirking a brown brow up.

“Nothing,” you shook your head as you took a seat on the edge of the bed. “This is a nice house.”

“You can take the guestroom,” he said bluntly.

“What?”

“You can take the guestroom. I’ve already put all your bags there, you can decorate it however you like but don’t touch anything else.”

“But I...I’ve never heard of husband and wife sleeping in different rooms.”

“That’s true, it is unusual. This is not a normal marriage though, is it?” His tone so frustratingly patronising, as if he was talking to a child.

You’ve never really been appreciated for your mind, women never are--not where you come from, even your love Alex only ever thought of you as a ‘pretty face’. But Andy didn’t need to spell it out for you, “You... don’t want me...” you realised.

He only scoffed. He’d never been one for long term relationships, he had tried but he could never give himself to another person, women often called him emotionally unavailable, his demanding and dangerous job did contribute a lot to that, but more than that it was his unwillingness to change. He was self aware enough to know that but he didn’t need anyone else. He didn’t want to be tied down or to have a nagging immature wife.

“But why...” you wondered. Sure, you weren’t thrilled to marry him, but now you had accepted it and wanted to make the best of your new life. You thought he wanted the same.

“Why would I want you?” he spat. “ You’re nothing but a spoilt rich girl who’s had everything handed to her. Who was ungrateful and stupid enough to fraternize with the enemy.”

You let out a shaky exhale, looking at him with teary eyes, “I loved him...”

“You don’t know the first thing about love,” he rolled his eyes.

“He loved me too! But I’m willing to put that behind me. I made a vow to you.”

“You really don’t know, do you?”

“Know what?” you frowned.

He took his phone out of his pocket, opening his gallery to show you the compromising pictures you had sent to your ex, “He shared that with everyone, it was all just a ploy to humiliate your father.”

You gasped, taking his phone in your trembling hand, your breasts exposed as you shyly looked at the camera. You had flat out refused to send him a nude when he asked for it but then he threatened to break up with you, to go after your best friend, even called you a prude because you hadn’t slept with him. At the moment you felt as if you had no choice but to do it...

“He wouldn’t,” you sobbed.

“And because of your stupidity I had to marry you since no one else would ever want you,” he said. But then regretted it as you just started crying harder. He thought of maybe trying to console you but what would he even say?

He took the phone from you before you could even think of deleting the photos. He used them to pleasure himself almost every night. Maybe he was an idiot, he could have the real thing, yet he was pushing you away, “Go to your room,” he told you which made you sob even moreso.

You looked up at him, begging him for a hug, for some sort of comfort or sympathy but his face was cold and harsh. Finally gathering your wits you went to the other room, ready to cry yourself to sleep.

No matter how beautiful you were, you were still thrusted upon him, you didn’t love him, you never could because you never even had a choice

“Perfect,” you beamed, setting down the chicken pot pie you had just cooked up.

Your grandmama had always told you that a wife should be a cook in the kitchen and a whore in the bedroom. So that her man would never stray.

And while you hadn’t had a chance to be a whore for Andy... something that you were looking forward to, you hoped the fresh home cooked meal, the holiday season and decorations you had spent the past few days working on would put him in the mood. To maybe accept you as his wife.

For the past six months you had tried everything, making him breakfast, packing his lunch, offering him massages, even trying to help him with his work but he was always so cold to you.

You feared that this is how it will be forever. He would never love you, not the way you’ve always loved him. Even when he was so cruel towards you.

But you were nothing if not resilient. So you said chuck it and went all out. Decorating your whole house, with a real tree for the past few days while Andy was out on a work trip for thanksgiving. Maybe you could surprise him and he’d realise just how much he lucked out with you.

You even went with a more risqué outfit than you usually would. Your little emerald green skirt with pleats was a bit too short and impractical for the cold winters but you were going to stay inside anyway. It was topped off with a tight burgundy blouse and a push up bra which made your girls look enticing and some red pumps.

With a pumpkin pie for dessert in the oven, your salads done and the gingerbread flavored candles lit up you were good to go.

So you sat on the couch, watching 'A Christmas story' for the hundredth time to kill time till he gets home and to distract your nervous mind.

After ninety minutes the movie was over but Andy still wasn’t home. You tried calling him but it kept going to voicemail.

Frustrated, but determined to follow through with your ‘Seduce Andy Barber’ plan you put on another movie, chewing your lip till it bled as you impatiently waited for him.

Soon it was midnight, your food got cold and the rumbling in your tummy became more prominent so you decide to eat your dinner, put the leftovers in the freezer and cut your losses.

You were almost done with your dishes when your husband coming into the apartment, turning around you saw him hang his coat on the back of the chair and plomp down on it. He groaned, pulling the sleeves of his shirt up to reveal his bulky forearms.

“You’re home,” you said, taking off your apron so he could see your little get up.

He didn’t smile at you like you expected he would, he didn’t say ‘Good job’ like you thought he would. He certainly didn’t look like he wanted to bend you over the dining table and take you then and there. He simply frowned at you. Looking at you as if your mere existence offended him.

“I told you; you were allowed to decorate your room however you liked. Not the whole apartment,” he growled, rubbing a hand over his face.

“What? I did it for you... I thought you would like it, ” you stood there, dumbfounded, shifting from one foot to another, “You don’t like Christmas.” You realised.

“No, I don’t. Christmas isn’t all fun and jolly for everybody. I’ve never had anyone to celebrate it with,” he did you a once over, his pants tightening uncomfortably as he took in your little ensemble.

He had never had a single good Christmas in his whole life. He’d usually spend it either working or drinking. But now, he had you, his good little wife who had gone out of her way to do all this just for him.

He could kiss your red lips then and there, finally do what he’s been wanting to go for the past few months and make love to you, eat the delicious meal you had made him because he was fucking starving.

But then he realized how easily you could be taken away from him. How this was all so fickle.

“Do you want a divorce?” he crossed his hands over his chest, as if daring you to give a wrong answer, “If you do, I’ll give you one right now.”

“I - ” you strutted, you didn’t really know, “Daddy would never let that happen.” To which he scoffed.

Your father would kill you both if this marriage failed. He knew that, why would he still be willing to risk everything?

“Where are you going?” you asked when he got up from the chair.

“To my room, to sleep,” he sighed.

He knew what you would say, he knew you were daddy’s little girl who’d die before disappointing her father, which was solely why you were with him, and yet he let himself fall for you and get hurt.

You tugged on his shirt, ready to beg him to at least eat the meal you made for him but then you frowned, inhaling the feminine perfume from his shirt, mixed with his own Cologne, you took a step back, your eyes brimming with tears as you realised he might’ve been with another woman.

While you were home slaving away to make everything perfect for him.

Your father had a handful of mistresses, a few of them younger than you. Your mother knew, all wives know and look the other way. That was how it was supposed to be. It was how you make marriages last...

And your poor beaten heart could take his coldness towards you, it absolutely could not bear him being with another woman. Your father had always praised him for being loyal, and it was one of the things you loved about him...

“Where were you?” you sniffled to keep the tears at bay.

“I was out working. So I could pay for your shopping sprees.” He spat.

You gasped, “I haven’t gone shopping in months! I only did now for Christmas!”

“That tree better be down by the time I wake up. You can out all that crap in your bedroom if you like. I do not what to see it.” He said gravelly, before slamming his door shut.

Something was horribly wrong.

Andy came home to an empty, cold house. You weren’t there to greet him like you usually are, in fact you hadn’t been for the past few weeks. He could hear the TV from your room, some kind of musical playing.

He checked the kitchen for some food, you used to make dinner every night, rave about your love for cooking and baking, but now it seemed that you lived on poptarts and McDonald’s.

He knocked on your door, to ask if you wanted some of the alfredo he was cooking up, also to maybe get you to have dinner with him.

Ever since he had married you, he had such a beautiful companion to have dinner with. To watch silly romcoms with, someone who waited for him to come home, called him all worried when he was late, asked him how his day was

It’d break his heart to say good night to you, you’d give him those puppy eyes, fluttering your lashes as if begging him to invite you to bed with him.

He wanted to ask you to come, to feel what it would be like to snuggle up with your soft body, to smell your hair, to finally fuck you, but he’d just go away to sleep in his cold bed with a heavy heart. Making do with his hand as he thought of you, it wouldn’t feel nearly as good as you would but it would have to do.

“Can I come in, honey?” he asked.

Letting himself in when no answer came from you. You were lying on your bed, blankets draped over you, your eyes trained on the television. He looked around your room, he had only been there a couple of times, he had expected to see some kind of winter wonderland since you were such a fan of Christmas.

But it looked just how it usually did... pale pink walls, a queen sized bed, a small closet and a dresser and a vanity. No tree or fairy lights or nut crackers.

He leaned against the door frame. “Did you have dinner?” He wanted to know.

You made some sort of unintelligible noise; which could mean anything. So he asked, “Would you like some pasta? I can’t make it as good as you do but I’ll try.”

“No.” You answered. Still not even looking at him.

“It’s Christmas Eve, do you want to go celebrate with your family?”

You shook your head in response. “No, I think I’ll just stay here.”

He had stolen your brightness and sunshine away, tainting you with his darkness. “Stop it,” he scolded, switching off the TV and standing in front of you to make you listen to him. “Get ready, I’m dropping you off at your fathers. You’re not spending Christmas in bed.”

“What difference does it make?” you huffed.

“Get ready. Right. Now.” He ordered, pulling your blanket away from you.

“No!” you whined. Sitting up, your face heating up with a simmering rage you had harbored for months. “Why do you even care? Do you want to get me out of the house so you could spend Christmas with her?!”

“Who’s her?” he furrowed his brows.

“Your mistress!” you yelled, looking around for something you could hurt him with, you grabbed a hold of your Mrs Bunny, your cute pink stuffie and threw it at his face. “I’m not going anywhere. And you’re not bringing her in to my house!” You said, throwing another stuffie at him which he caught with his hand.

“Honey,” he said, as if he was so disappointed with you, for catching him in his lies and deceit. “I don’t have a mistress. Where would I even find the time for one? All those late nights were spent at the office or in meetings.”

He would be the world’s biggest idiot to get a mistress when he had a wife like you waiting for him at home. A wife he hadn’t even so much as even kissed... given how pouty and tempting your lips looked, he didn’t know how he resisted for so long.

“Don’t call me honey,” you puffed out your cheeks, “And I don’t believe you.”

“Well, what can I do to make you believe me?”

You sighed, laying back down on the bedding, “There’s not much you can do. Except leave me be. I just want to sleep this Christmas away.”

He had to do something to get your spirits up. And since you has thrown away your old decorations he ran to every store in the town, waiting in the queue for hours, calling in as many favors as he could to get some new ones.

While he wasn’t able to get a real Christmas tree, he got a fake one which was a bit smaller than the one you had put up but not all that bad.

You had decorated the apartment with the traditional red, greens and golden he decided to go with a soft pastel pink theme. Hoping that you would like it and forgive him.

He had gotten you couple of gifts, a little babydoll he saw on the internet, it was pink and sexy, he thought of you the moment he saw it. Ordering it for you but he never really gathered enough courage to ask you to wear it. He wrapped it up for you in some festive paper, tying a ribbon around it.

He decided to get as many gifts for you as he could so the tree wouldn’t look so depressing, a Tiffany’s set, an advent calendar from a make up company he knew you liked, a box of cookies and one of chocolates, a new apron with floral patterns and frilly trimmings, some cozy socks, and a surprise gift he had been saving for you.

Looking around the living room, while it wasn’t as good as what you had done with the place he was still proud of what he could pull off in just a couple of hours.

He called out your name before knocking and entering, switching on your bedside lamp he sat next to you, stroking your hair, “Wake up, angel.”

“Seriously, stop it with the petnames,” you said, your voice groggy from sleep and irritated. Because he had only ever said your name with contempt before.

“I’m not going to stop, honey. You’re my wife, I can call you whatever I like.”

“Whatever,” you mumbled, rubbing your sleep away from your eyes.

“I have a surprise for you.” He smiled at you.

And while he had certainly smiled at you before that, when you had said something funny or silly (which you usually did just to see him smile), this one seemed so much brighter and warm.

“What is it?” you sat up. Still a bit crossed with him but excited to see what surprise he had for you.

“You have to come into the living room for that, and promise to stop being a Grinch,” he said, bopping your nose.

You scoffed incredulously, “I’m being a Grinch?! You were the one who made me take everything down in the first place!”

“I know, honey, and I am sorry for that. Hopefully I can make it up to you.” He winked.

You combed your hair, splashing some water on your face and then following him out to see what he had in mind for you.

You all but gasped at the tree in the middle of your living room, so beautiful, the soft glow of the fairy lights illuminated the room, little festive trinklets all over the room.

He had got you a pink stocking with sparkling silver hearts on it. His was a normal red one with ‘Andy' written with a sharpie or a pen. You giggled at that.

“You like it, honey?” he asked.

You nodded, observing the ornaments on your tree, “I do. Thank you so much, Andy. It’s so beautiful, I don’t think anyone’s ever done something so grand for me.”

Your rave gave him the courage to out his hand over your waist, pulling you into him, “I know this doesn’t make up for everything, but it’s start.”

“Yes! I think... I’d like a fresh start,” you beamed up at him

He excused himself to make some hot chocolate for you both, handing you a mug with little heart shaped marshmallows and sprinkles on top of it. You didn’t even realise how you ended up snuggled up next to him on the couch, Elf playing on the TV which he shockingly had never seen before.

“You know... for someone who hates Christmas so much you did a pretty good job saving it!” you giggled, kissing his bearded cheek.

“Well...” he looked down at you, wiping away the mustache the hot chocolate gave you before sucking his thumb off, “I don’t hate it anymore, because I’m not alone,” he said, his thumb pulling on your plump bottom lip.

“Um...” you face heated up as looked away, “You got me gifts!” you screamed a bit overzealous to change the subject, “Can I open one now? Please?! I’m just so excited!”

“Sure,” he murmured, a bit salty that he didn’t get the kiss.

He knelt next to you on the carpet as you pinked one up, shaking it next to your ear, scrunching your nose up so cutely as you tried to decipher what it was.

“Mmm... I can’t tell...”

“Why don’t you just open it?” he asked as his hand caressed your bare thigh, finding himself unable to keep his hands off of you now that he has you.

You ripped at the wrapping paper, opening the box to reveal the skimpy baby pink lingerie he had got you.

You pulled it out of the box and then started stammering, unable to form words once you realised what it was. “Is this... um..”

“Do you like it?”

“Yes, it’s very cute and nice. Do you, want me to wear it for you?”

“If that’s what you want,” he said casually and then shrugged but then regretted it as your face fell and you let. He wasn’t used to half-assing things if he was going to tell you his true feelings, he had to go all out.

Taking a deep breath, “I have to tell you something I’ve been meaning to say for months.”

“What?”

“I... love you,” he looked down at your lap, because he couldn’t bear to look in your eyes if you decided to reject him.

“Oh, Andy!” you beamed, “I love you too! I’ve always loved you,” you crawled on top of him, throwing your arms around his neck you hugged him.

“That’s good then,” he smiled stroking your back, he pulled you back so he could look at your pretty face, cupping your cheek he pressed his lips against yours.

He had only kissed you once, months ago at your wedding, and while it was not bad at all it was too short and formal and distant, nothing compared to how he felt right now. Moulding his lips against yours, kneading the flesh of your ass, you tasted just as sweet as he imagined you would.

You gasped in his mouth when he rutted his erection up into your core. “Andy!” your chest heaving as you felt him pressing against your thigh.

“What do you say you go put that on for me, doll? Hm?” he instructed.

You meekly nodded, grabbing a hold of the lingerie which you just now noticed was so sheer and would not really leave anything to the imagination.

“Come on out quickly now,” his impatience seeping through his voice as he sat on the edge of his, or what would now be both of your marital bed, one leg crossed over the other, his foot tapping against the floor.

His pants already snug, just from imagining what you would look like with the flimsy thing on. It wasn’t as revealing or kinky as some of the other pieces he had seen, but he felt it would match your personality perfectly.

He groaned, calling out your name again, “I’m gonna fucking die of blue balls, if you don’t come out right now, I’m coming in,” he got up to his feet to do just that but then stopped when he heard the knob twist.

One smooth leg peaking out of the bathroom, “Um... promise you wouldn’t make fun of me?” you asked. Your eyes screwed shut, you didn’t really have much of choice but you had never been so vulnerable in front of anyone. You’d hate to not be satisfactory for him.

“I promise,” his face softened, he had to practice some restrain, at least until he breaks you in, “Now come on out.”

You opened the door, your meek eyes fixed on your hardwood floor, your hands hugging your midsection. You blinked when he said nothing for several long, tortuous moments. Peaking a glance up at him you found him staring at you.

“Uh, do you like it?” you asked as your hands played with the helm of the teddy.

He almost scoffed. Like would be an understatement.

He knew pink would be your color. The nightie so short, clinging to your curves, your nipples pebbled against the satiny fabric, you looked like a sweet little doll and a whole fucking meal to devour at the same time. He would burst before he even got to touch you.

“Twirl,” he made the motion with his forefinger to demonstrate it, “Let me look at you better. And hands to your sides.”

You took a deep breath, letting your hands fall, doing as he had asked, your heart hammering in your chest because for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out if he actually liked you.

“Stop there,” he instructed when he got a look at your pert, round butt, the cloth barely covering it, he could see the imprints of the thong you wore.

“What are you thinking?” you asked.

“If I like your front better or your behind.” He almost chuckled at the incredulous gasp you let out. “Alright, look at me again.” Definitely the front, because he could see your beautiful face. Taking his original position on the bedding, “Come here,” he patted his lap.

Like the obedient wife that you aspired to be, you followed, perching yourself up on his lap, your arms around his neck for some support, looking into his lust blown, dark eyes.

You bite your lip when you felt that pressing into your thigh. Unable to bear his intense gaze you hid your face in the crook of his neck.

He hushed you, snuggling your soft body closer to his, his fingers drawing patterns on your hip, “How many men have you been with before?”

It didn’t really matter whatever your answer would be. But he wanted to tell you, that how ever many there were before him won’t matter anymore. From now on you are solely his.

“None,” you whispered so lowly that he almost couldn’t hear you.

“What?” Holding onto your chin so that he could make you look at him, “None? How is that possible?”

“I’ve just been waiting for the right one... I was going to with Alex but then didn’t...” you said as your hands caressed the coarse hair on his jaw.

He hummed, the fact that he would be your one and only, forever, only served to entice him further.

“Have you ever sucked a cock before?” he asked, although he knew the answer.

“No...”

“Don’t worry, I’ll guide you,” he promised, pushing on your shoulders to make you get on your knees.

You hissed at the cold floor, biting into the your calves and knees.

His dainty princess, he grabbed a throw pillow, instructing you to put it under, all the while staring at your cleavage peaking out like a creep.

Your eyes were fixated on his crotch, eager to see what a real penis looks like. You had watched some porn when you were a teen, out of sheer curiosity, but your friends had told you to lower your expectations. That real ones are much smaller and not so aesthetically pleasing.

You all but gasped when he took his cock out of the confines of his sweats, slapping over his abdomen. So big... and thick, with two veins over it, a bright flushed tip leaking with pre-ejaculate, and some soft hair dusted at the base of it.

You tried to stop yourself but then couldn’t help it, your hand shyly touching his tip yanking it down and then releasing it to see what happens. As suspected it flew back over, hard against his tummy, making you giggled.

“Oh gosh...” you slapped a palm over your mouth to stop from laughing.

He scrunched up the hair on the back of your head, yanking your neck back so that he could look at you, “What’s so funny?” he growled.

“Nothing,” you gulped, “It’s all just so strange and new... and exciting...”

He hummed as he took in your words. Grabbing the base of his cock as he rubbed his tip and precum all over your cheeks till your face was positively glowing with his essence.

“You wanna taste it?” he asked, to which you eagerly nodded.

Nudging your pouty lips with his tips before tapping on them when you didn’t get the clue, “Open.”

“Oh,” you said before opening as wide as you could, his length easing into your mouth. You hummed around him, the salty unique taste of him you had never really known before and couldn’t get enough of now.

He was barely halfway through inside you when he touched the back of your throat, he tutted, “Relax your throat,” he told you.

You didn’t really know what he meant but you tried loosening up all your muscles. Choking around him when he pushed in a few more inches.

Most of him was still out but it was as good as it’s gonna get, not that he’d ever complain... no... your mouth was like heaven. He had only known his hand for the past year Or so, and your mouth was almost too much.

Holding onto your face to keep it in place he started thrusting upwards into you, his heart swelling with tears escaped your eyes but you still tried to take more of him, to please him like the good girl that you were.

He stopped his hips, gently slapping your cheek to get your attention, “You always look at me when my dick is in your mouth. Got it?”

Since you couldn’t talk with your mouth full of cock, you just nodded.

You peered up at him innocently, fluttering your lashes, popping him out of your sloppy mouth, “Am I doing it right?” because you truly couldn’t tell.

He chuckled, smoothening a hand down your hair, “More than right... it’s too good but I want to come in your pussy. Maybe I’ll make you swallow my load latter, what do you think?”

“Yes, I’d like that,” you licked your lips to taste more of him.

“Get on the bed,” he ordered.

“Um... can I go fix my face before that,” you rubbed your mouth with the back of your hand, you doubted you looked very pretty to him then.

“No,” he stated, pulling you up by your armpits and all but throwing you on the bed.

You yelped and tried to protest, “I wanna look good for you...”

He pushed your legs apart to make room for him, smirking above you, eyeing you up as if you were a piece of meat, his prey, “This really does look pretty on you...” he rubbed the flimsy spagetti strap between his fingers, “but it’s served it’s purpose.”

You screamed, holding onto his wrists as he ripped the babydoll in two pieces, revealing your breasts to him, he yanked at it, throwing the remains away.

“That’s much better,” he gritted, pinching one of your peaks, capturing it in his mouth and suckling at it to his hearts content.

You pouted as you looked at the torn cloth, a bit upset that he ruined his gift to you. “I really liked that...” you sniffled. But couldn’t really ponder because Andy’s ravenous mouth was sucking hickies all over your breasts.

“I’ll buy you another one. I’ll buy you ten more,” he bit into the side of your breasts, your mewls and whines were like music to his ears.

“Andy...” you heaved, “Don’t leave marks... I have to go to dinner tomorrow to moms...”

He stopped abruptly, propping himself up above you and you were afraid that you had upset him, “You’re my wife now, honey. Your father gave you to me,” his hand snaking down your body, between your legs, he parted your moist lips, the pad of his fingers meeting your little pearl, “I can do whatever I want with you,” he reminded you, pushing a finger into you, “This cunt is mine now, got it?”

“Yess...” you whined as you squirmed under him, the invasion of his finger inside you too alien to your body.

“Which means you ask for permission before you touch yourself, or better yet, don’t touch yourself because that’s my job,” he stated.

“Have you ever made yourself come?” he asked, trailing soft kisses down your body till he settled between your legs, moving the strong of the thing to the side so he could get a better look at your virgin pussy, adding another finger inside you, your snug walls clinging to his digits, “You’re so fucking small. Can barely fit my finger. How will you take my cock,” he teased.

He’d make you take it.

You whimpered at the sting of it, “I’ll try, daddy...” throwing your head back as you massaged your breast.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, looking down at him when he stopped his ministrations, “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” he quirked a brow. “Do you realise what you just called me?”

You simply shook your head because you hadn’t really called him anything, “Andy?”

“No,” he huffed, “You called me daddy, honey.”

You gasped, you didn’t mean to say it out loud! “No...” you shook you head from side to side, trying to pull away from his fingers still knuckle deep inside you, “It can’t be!”

“Oh, but you did,” he laughed, “And you’re gonna say it again. In fact, from now on, when it’s just the two of us that’s the only thing that you will call me. Unless you wanna get punished...”

“Okay...” you said, still a bit unsure of it all.

You had always called him ‘daddy’ in your fantasies. It was maybe a bit expected for it to slip out like that but still so embarrassing. You said it again just to make sure that he actually wanted you to call him that and wasn’t just teasing you.

“Good girl,” he winked, latching his mouth around your clit, fucking you with his fingers as he kept sucking.

“Daddy...” you whined, biting on your hand to muffle some of your noises, a knot building up in the pit of your stomach, “Don’t stop, please!”

You gushed over his mouth, he lapped it all up, making sure nothing went to waste.

“You did good, honey,” he said, your cheeks heating up when you saw his beard glistening with your juices. He rolled your thong down your thick thighs, “You wear this to dinner tomorrow,” he told you. “Since I’m going to be a real husband from now on I pick out what you wear.”

All so he could see you in those pretty flowy dresses you wear sometimes, but you didn’t need to know that.

He hastily pushed his sweats and briefs past his hips, throwing them off the bed before pulling his t-shirt over his head.

You bit your lip at just the sight of him. His shoulders so broad, chest so wide, dark hair dusted all over his chest, you just knew then that all those hours he spent at the gym paid off, you knew he’d be ripped.

But you absolutely did not expect, someone as uptight as him to have numerous tattoos all over his torso.

Something inscribed in Sanskrit on his chest that you didn’t really understand... the logo of your family’s mob on just under his pectoral.

You sat up to get a better look at them, tracing a skull on his bicep that looked much less sophisticated than the others, the lines a bit scribbly, it was already fading.

“That’s the first one,” he interrupted you, “I was a kid back then, got my foster brother to do it.”

You pressed a kiss over it, “I love it.”

His blue eyes beamed at you, he was so beautiful...

“Now for your gift...” he circled your wrist bringing it down to his pelvis.

“Hm?” you looked down, tears brimming up in your eyes as you saw your name written on just beside his hipbone, next to his hard cock, standing tall against his stomach. In a small heart, dark ink against his pale skin, “When did you get it done?” you sniffles, touching his skin to feel the texture of the tattoo.

“A few weeks ago. I just... I’ve never belonged to anyone. Never had a family of my own. But now I have you, and you have me, I’m just as much yours as you’re mine,” he confessed, finally feeling the weight of it lifted off his shoulders. You were a blessing in disguise.

“I love you,” you beamed up at him.

“I love you too, doll, now come on,” he pushed you till you were on your back, “Daddy’s waited long enough. Can’t wiat to fill you up, make you mine.”

He planted a hand on the mattress, so he could see what he was doing to your virgin cunt, look at you and her, as he defiles you and makes you a woman, his thick manhood nudging your glistening lips as he eased into you, he felt you stretching around him, your face twisted in pain as you begged him to go easy on you, he halted when he felt your barrier.

He looked up at your pretty face, sparkling with his spend and your tears, your sweet little whimpers filled the room, he stayed still for a moment to let you get used to him, he knew he should take it easy.

His wife was a delicate, fragile, sweet little girl. He should be more gentle. A better husband and man would be. But he had his whole life to become a good man for you, tonight he just wanted to take what was rightfully his.

Letting out a deep, almost animalistic growl, piercing through your seal, your innocence till you were screeching, your nails drawing blood from the sides of his thighs.

“It hurts!” you screamed.

“It’ll only hurt for a little bit, doll. Just ride through it,” he cooed, stroking your sensitive clit to draw your attention away from the pain, he withdrew his hips before snapping them back till he was deep within your womb.

“You’re so snug, honey,” he grunted, not letting up his pace as he kept fucking into you,

A proud smirk gracing his face as he looked down to see himself covered in blood, a sticky mess of both your bodily fluids where your sexes were joined. His dick somehow grew harder inside you knowing how he took something from you that you’ll never be able to give someone else.

Slowly your crying and whining was subsiding as you got used to have him inside you, but he wanted to hear you scream for him in a different way. “Don’t you want to make your husband, no, your daddy happy, honey?” He asked, each word punctuated with a deep, harsh thrust into you.

You nodded, willing your tears away, cringing when you saw his crotch covered in your blood, “Yes I do, daddy. What do I do?”

“Your cute dumb brain always needs to be told what to do,” he chuckled, moving closer to you he circled his palms around your wrists, pinning them above you, “Wrap your legs around me.”

You followed along, wrapping your legs around his hips and hooking them together on his back. Closing your eyes when you felt your body seizing up, your pussy pulsating around his length when you felt the familiar feeling creep up on you.

“Look at me!” he barked and you immediately opened your eyes, “You look at me when I fuck you.”

You gulped and dared not close your eyes again. Even as you felt your orgasm wash over you, clenching around his length. His face was scrunched up, his neck, face and chest flush as he chased his own release till you felt his warm release coating your walls.

He collapsed above you, panting beside you he kissed your hair, “You liked that, babygirl?”

You let out a meek little yes. Feeling empty and void of his warmth and hardness when he pulled out of you before settling next to you.

“But...” you trailed off. Not finding it in you to bare yourself to him like that just yet.

“But what?” he whipped his head to look at you.

“But I’m sorry if I wasn’t very good!” Since you had simple laid there and took whatever he gave you. You had heard that men don’t like that...

“Don’t worry, honey, you were absolutely perfect,” he sighed. “You’ll get even better with practice, we’re gonna practice a lot from now on.”

You tried to cover your breasts up with the comforter, still awkward about being stark naked right next to a man, a man who looked as good as like Andy, but he swatted at your hands, reprimanding you and telling you to stay still and let him look at you to his hearts content.

Soon you felt your cunt throbbing back up again, still so raw from the loving Andy gave it, you tried rubbing your legs together to ease it a little bit.

“It still hurts?” Andy asked as you nodded.

He snaked a hand between your legs, massaging your little nub and your lips, tutting when you tried to pull away from his touch, “Shh I’m trying to make it hurt less.”

He hummed when he saw his seed leak out of you, pushing a finger in you, much to your displeasure, to keep it inside you, where it belonged.

He would make you go on some form of birth control as soon as he could. While the idea of you all round and plump with his kid was more than appealing, he didn’t want to share you with anyone else just yet. You were young, he had plenty of years to breed you.

“You’d make a good mother,” he wondered out loud.

“Hm?” you blinked at him. Squirming from the torture he was yielding on your overworked sex. His lips curled up in a twisted smile as he pulled his fingers out of you, wiping your blood on your soft nipples, painting them crimson as you shivered.

You looked at his cock, hard again against his stomach. “Does it hurt?” you asked, your hands twitching to touch it again.

“Yes, it does. Do you wanna help me get rid of the pain?”

“Mm... can I use my mouth again? I’m sore...”

“It’s okay, honey, you’ll get used to it,” he promised, grabbing your hips and pulling you on top of him, your palms pressed into his abdomen as you looked so wrecked, “Guide me in,” he ordered.

You shook your head which earned you a harsh slap on your ass so you held onto the base of his cock, parting your intimate lips, before slowly sinking down on him.

You sighed as you settled, sitting on top of him with his cock nestled inside you, so full and strangely satisfied, his warmth soothing your aching walls, he spanked you again to remind you to move, so you started bouncing on top of him the best you could.

His hand groped at your bouncing titts before he wrapped a hand around your throat, applying the slightest bit of pressure as you whimpered and cried, just to remind you who’s in charge, not that you’d forget anytime soon.

His only regret was that he hadn’t done this sooner. He was an idiot to ever resist an angel like you. He’ll have to do a lot to make up for lost time.

Tags will be in the reblog! Click the link in the bio to be join the taglist or shoot me an ask/dm. Comments and reblogs are really appreciated! ❤❤

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!

#happyhoelidays2020 #andy barber x oc #andy barber x y/n #steve rogers x reader #andy barber x reader #andy x reader #chris evans x reader #defending jacob fanfic #mob!andy barber

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allfattenedup · 3 years

Text

Eat

I’ve been noticing you watching me for about twenty minutes, but I have to assume it’s been longer than that.

Your gaze is undoubtedly flirty as we wind between women with high-piled hair and backless dresses, and men in suits brighter and louder than they would normally wear — bold red with black loafers. One in full gold. Well, ‘tis the season. But as obvious as your lustful gaze is, it takes me a moment to realize it. People don’t really look at me that way. Not anymore, at least.

And tonight, I’ve been eating. Hopping between roving waiters accepting their wordless offers of expensive canapes. Going back and back and back so many times that I almost feel I should don a fake mustache, but nobody cares how much I take. It’s the only good thing about this stupid Christmas party. This is such a wanky part of town. Imagine hiring waiters to come into your house. I don’t fit in here. A harsh, biting truth which frankly stings like honey — sweet and delicious… but the reality is there, too. I know I embarrassed myself showing up here in a shirt I’m just a bit too big for. Warning no one of my… considerable weight gain, putting rich aunts and uncles and cousins in the uncomfortable position of not being completely sure they recognize me. Enduring the excruciating painted-on smiles, painful silences and conversations rushed to their amicable conclusion. This is polite company. No one’s going to address the elephant in the room, not to my face, anyway. But oh, the whispers. The way I feel naked while fully dressed. I know I look a sight. A spectacle. It’s thrilling, but it’s also deeply nerve-wracking.

So I turned to the hors d'oeuvres. Ate until my cheeks were flushed and my buttons were straining even more, ambling around with a champagne glass in my other hand to at least look like I’m mingling. Going from devilled eggs, to profiteroles, to bruschetta, to salmon mousse, back to profiteroles. Feeling my new belly get heavier, escaping from the thinly-veiled scrutiny into the heady world of eat, eat, eat.

And that’s when I noticed you.

Read it here. You've been asking and asking for more writing and how could I say no? 3,500 words, one of my longest stories ever. You'll be getting one of these every month 😘

#readafu

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destieltropecollection · 3 years

Photo

Destiel Trope Collection 2021 | Day 22: Meet Cute

Trick Or Oh No, Please Don't Cry | @deansmultitudes

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1,360 Main Tags/Warnings: Modern AU, Dad!Castiel, Halloween, Fluff Summary: Dean expected the Halloween night, spent on giving out candy, to be rather uneventful. And it was, at least, until the tiny disaster happened.

Losing A Few Teeth | @vampamber

Rating: General Word Count: 1,481 Main Tags/Warnings: dentist office, high on nitrous oxide Dean, drunken marriage proposal, first meetings Summary: Dean probably should’ve had his wisdom teeth removed ages ago, but he's never been fond of doctors of any sort, and that included dentists as far as he's concerned. But when he wakes up from getting them removed, the nitrous oxide makes him a bit drunker than expected. Proposing marriage to the hot nurse with the ungodly amazing blue eyes level drunk, apparently.

irresistible | @kitmistry

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 1,529 Main Tags/Warnings: Top Castiel, Bottom Dean, Porn with Plot, Strangers to Lovers, Celebrity Castiel Summary: Well, hello there, Mr. Dark-and-Handsome. Dean can spy what is surely a demi-god, talking with a few ladies across the room. The ladies all coo, and blush, and cling to him with adoration written into every curve of their shapely bodies. The demi-god, though, is cool and aloof. He smiles politely at them, but doesn’t single any of them out. Doesn’t even really look like he’s paying that much attention to them, actually. His strikingly blue eyes scan the room every now and then, without focusing on any person or art piece in particular. The demi-god turns his face so he’s looking somewhere to Dean’s left, and holy. fucking. shit. That’s Castiel Novak! The movie star!

My Honey Bee | @vampamber

Rating: General Word Count: 1,774 Main Tags/Warnings: ABO, alpha Dean, omega Cas, true mates, scenting, first meetings Summary: Rolling his eyes as Sam excitedly made his way to a booth selling what looked like weeds as far as the alpha was concerned, Dean started wandering in the opposite direction. Wrinkling his nose in horror at an older lady selling hideous crafts made out of freaking corn husks (do people even buy crap like that?), he was suddenly hit by the most delicious scent ever. He knew he recognized it from somewhere, but he just couldn’t place it. It was sweet and thick, and even had him drooling a little from how good it smelled.

To All The Places I've Never Been | @vampamber

Rating: General Word Count: 2,814 Main Tags/Warnings: first meetings, barista Cas, pilot Dean, referenced Sam/Eileen Summary: Castiel has always wished that he could travel the world and see all the beauty and adventure awaiting him. Working at Starbucks for minimum wage, though, usually makes travel like that way too expensive and impossible. And working at said Starbucks in an airport only adds insult to injury. Maybe the cute green-eyed pilot that just ordered some coffee can sweep him away from here?

The Fortune Teller | @expectingtofly

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 3,038 Main Tags/Warnings: Fortune Teller!Cas, Eileen/Sam, Normal Life AU, Beach Vacation, Fluff, Inspired by the song "Fortune Teller" by Robert Plant and Allison Krauss Summary: Dean doesn't trust any of this hippy bullshit—as he likes to call it. But he's at the beach on vacation with Sam and Eileen and they've dragged him to a fortune teller, so he reluctantly follows. Cue an attractive, charming fortune teller and a palm reading Dean wants to dismiss, but can't seem to shake.

Winchester's Haunted House | @deansmultitudes & @kitmistry

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 3,417 Main Tags/Warnings: Modern AU, Past Character Death, Ghost!Cas, Halloween, Haunted House Summary: For the Halloween evening, Dean turns his new home into a haunted house for neighboring kids. But once all the guests are gone, is when the real haunting begins.

Heat powered by you | @Mistofstars

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 4,177 Main Tags/Warnings: Destiel, cold winter night, holding hands for warmth, first encounter, Fluffy, Romance, duracell campaign Summary: Just two strangers in a cold winter night, who have both missed the last bus home. Luckily, there is a bus shelter that provides warmth – as long as you hold hands to close the electric circuit. Too bad that Castiel appears pretty infuriating to Dean. Or is it something else? P Inspired by the Duracell campaign "Moments of Warmth".

The Christmas Market | @gii-heylittleangel

Rating: General Word Count: 4,377 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas Fic, First Meet, Meet Cute Summary: Being alone in a country he didn't know was never Dean's plan. Still, he tried to make the best out of it and, in the end, he thinks he really did.

Muse | @twisted-pride

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 4,605 Main Tags/Warnings: temporary character death, implied/referenced character death Summary: His life is but flashes Castiel has remembered from dreams, recreated in monochrome, if only so that Cas could prove this man wasn’t made up. After all, he’s certain he’s alive, that he’s someone out there that Cas just can’t get out of his head: he’s stuck with Cas too long to be fictional. And yet -- and it sounds silly in Cas’ head -- he’s never met the man. Someone he has drawn and painted for at least a decade, one that’s haunted his dreams even longer, and he didn’t even know his name. --- Ever since he was young, Cas has been haunted by this phantom of a man, both in his dreams and in the real world. No matter what Cas does, where he goes, the man is there too. In every mirror, every reflection, in puddles and car windows and the faintest reflection of Cas in the metal pitcher at restaurants. He's certain the man isn't the result of an overactive imagination or a ghost with unfinished business, but if he really is experiencing someone else's dreams, why is it only this stranger that Cas sees in his dreams and no one else? [Prophet AU]

This Charming Man | @expectingtofly

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 4,993 Main Tags/Warnings: College AU, Fluff, First Kiss, Inspired by the song "This Charming Man" by The Smiths Summary: Castiel is not having a good night. He was on a bike ride, until some asshole nearly hit him with his car, sending Cas veering onto the shoulder. Now he has a flat tire and has to walk his bike back to his college dorm. And, it looks like it's about to rain. Then said asshole returns, apologizing and offering to give Cas a drive. Sure, he's attractive and Cas' own age, but he could also be a serial killer for all Cas knows. Either this night is looking up or it's gonna get a whole lot worse.

Splash | @notfunnydean

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 5,132 Main Tags/Warnings: Dean wears a bikini, Genderfluid Dean Winchester, Feminization, HHomophobic Language, genderphobia, lifeguard!cas, First Time, First Kiss, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting Summary: Dean is an idiot. Since it’s hot outside and Sammy wants a break from his studies, they decide to check out the local pool. Feeling brave Dean decides to finally be himself for once. Will he regret that?

A New Perspective | @kingdumbass

Rating: Mature Word Count: 5,471 Main Tags/Warnings: First Date, Meet Cute, Blind Date, Artist Cas, Language Summary: A recently dumped Dean is begrudgingly dragged off of his couch by his brother Sam to attend an art show. As it turns out, getting off the couch can be a good thing sometimes.

The Samhain Feast | @deansmultitudes & @kitmistry

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 5,840 Main Tags/Warnings: Magic AU,Wich!Dean/Familiar!Cas, Animal Sacrifice Summary: The end of the harvest. The one day the veil between our world and the otherworld is thinnest. The day when a witch coming of age can try summoning and binding a familiar. The Samhain Feast is a tradition so ancient, no one remembers how it started. Dean has attended every single one of them since he was old enough to walk, watching witches meeting their familiars and bonding with them. This year, it's his turn to make an offering. And hope one of the familiars chooses him.

Dear Santa | @imbiowaresbitch

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 5,854 Main Tags/Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Meet-Cute, Misunderstandings, Top Castiel/bottom Dean Winchester, First Kiss, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, Rimming, Anal Sex, Happy Ending, kinda a christmas fic Summary: Castiel takes his 8-year-old son Jack to the mall, where Jack decides he HAS to speak to Santa. Cas is glad he did.

#destiel trope collection 2021 #day 22 #meet cute #destiel #supernatural #fanfic

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the-broken-truth · 3 years

Note

Could you do a scenario where Donna’s s/o is telling stories to her and Angie because they used to travel a lot around the world? (👨✈️) No worries if not!

Broken Truth: I love stories. Let the words weave together!!!

Stories of the World

"I'm home." A deep voice called from the front door of House Beneviento causing the Head of House - who was lacking her veil - and the doll in her lap to look up from the book they were reading as the figure removed the cloak they were wearing and placed it on the coat rack.

"Papa!" Angie called out as she jumped from Donna's lap and ran over to the man, hugging his leg in her death grip as she looked at him with a smile on her face. "Welcome home!"

He smiled as he bent down and gathered Angie in his arm and placed a kiss on her head - she may have been a doll, but he loved her as if she was a real child because she was to him and Donna. Angie giggled before she noticed the large, weathered book & a small box under her father's arm.

"Daddy, what's that?" She asked pointing at the large tome.

"Oh, some things my mother sent me." H said as he began walking to the table Donna was sitting at, kissed her lips, and took the seat across from her. "My mom said she was cleaning out the attic at the family house and found my old Traveling Album & souvenir box in my old stuff." He placed the book & box on the table.

"Traveling Album?" Donna asked with a raised eyebrow.

"You know my father made that company right?" He asked, Donna nodded her head. "I worked for him and saved up some money when I was younger, I traveled all over the world for one year and took photos along with collect trinkets of my adventures."

"You traveled all over the world? How come you never told us about this, My Love?" Donna asked with a confused tilt of her head.

"Well, it never really crossed my mind, beloved. I was so focused on building a life here with you and Angie that my past didn't really matter to me at the moment." He said as he smiled at the Lady of the House and then turned to look at his book. "I'll show you."

He opened his books and began flipping through the pages but what he didn't notice was that Angie had torn open the box like a child on Christmas Day and gasped at all the shiny and strange things.

"What's this, Papa?!" Angie asked as she held up a rather large-looking doll that looked to be made out of wood and was heavier than a normal doll would be.

"Oh, that's a Matryoshka Doll - The nesting doll. I got that from Russia when I spent a month there." He said as he took the doll from Angie and opened it - both her and Donna gasped.

"There's another doll inside it?!" Donna asked.

"Yes, there's a few actually - each small than the other." He said as he revealed the remaining dolls before placing them on the table and flipping the page showing pictures of him in Russia.

"What about this?" Donna asked as she picked up a strange golden necklace with an oval pendant with a jackal's head and strange writing engraved into the gold plate.

"Oh, that's my Amulet of Anubis." [Y/N] smiled as he took the pendant into his hand.

"Who's Anubis?" Angie asked.

"He's the Egyptian God of the Dead." The man explained.

"You have an amulet from the God of Death?!" Angie screamed.

"God of the Dead, Angie. Not God of Death." [Y/N] corrected.

"What is the difference?" Donna asked.

"Anubis doesn't decide who dies - he sorts out the departed souls to see which afterlife they go to." He said.

"Who does he do that?" Angie asked.

"With a feather, a scale, and the person's heart." That confused them so he explained. "The Feather is used to weigh the sins someone committed in moral life - if the heart is lighter than the feather, then you were a good person. If the heart is heavier than the feather, then you were a bad person." He explained.

"What if the heart and feather weigh the same?" Donna asked.

"The same thing would happen as if it was lighter than the feather, it means you lead a virtuous life so you would be rewarded." He said as he turned to the page where he stood before the Pyramid of King Tut with the amulet around his neck, shining gold in the sun.

"You have a flute?" Angie asked as she withdrew a flute of pure white wood from the box.

"Oh, I got that from the Temple of Apollo in Greece." He said.

"Who?" Donna and Angie asked.

'This is gonna be a long night.' He chuckled in his mind before speaking again.

#resident evil 8 #donna beneviento x male reader #donna beneviento

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sunjaesol · 3 years

Note

For the prompts : Juke 4 & 17 💜🌟

KISS PROMPTS (closed) 4 + 17. An accidental brush of lips followed by a pause and going back for another, on purpose + Tucking their hands beneath the other person’s shirt, just to watch them break the kiss and gasp in surprise at the sensation of cold/warm hands on their skin

(college au... this was such a treat to write oh my god)

Watching Julie Molina battle the New York wintertime was absolutely hilarious.

When Luke met the girl at the start of freshman year at NYU, he instantly knew she wasn’t from the east coast. The accent, the attitude, the lack of gloves on her hands by November. She was stubborn about it too, claiming that the weather should bend to her, not the other way.

It was a joke, obviously, but it didn’t make it less funny.

She’d be pouting and huffing and wearing a comical amount of sweaters on top and no puffer jacket was big enough to ward off the cold. Not even those curls of her were an insulator.

(And he knew her hair was thick and warm, because he once held it back at a frat party when she was puking her guts out after one too many tequila shots.)

They were walking through Washington Square Park, Luke contently sipping on his coffee as Julie was shivering beside him. They had a small break in between classes and he had convinced her to spend that time outside.

One, cause Luke liked the cold.

Two, cause… yeah, he’s had a big, fat crush on her ever since they properly met.

They both resided in Goddard Hall back then. Luke had been bored to death, aimlessly wandering the halls, when he followed the sound of a keyboard. That was how he found her. With her back towards him, she hummed along to her expert piano playing as she stared out the window with that gentle smile of hers.

Sure, he’d seen her at lectures, thinking she was cute, but he hadn’t spoken to her. Standing in the threshold and witnessing the way she embodied music felt like the world suddenly tilted off its axis. It hadn’t felt normal ever since, if he was being honest. Julie kind of took him aback without even trying.

She quickly got over the fact he essentially scared her to death by flying into an impromptu flurry of compliments, and easily befriended him. Maybe because they were both freshmen and needed someone, maybe because it was fucking fate. Whatever.

That accelerated thud of his heart burst into flames the second they sang together two weeks later for a class. Luke had a very simple outlook on life. If someone tapped into that innate passion for music in ways he hadn’t considered before, he was a goner. Julie did. And it hadn’t tempered in the slightest.

Being best friends with her was great, but he’d lie if he said he hadn’t been in his feelings when she got with Nick for a couple of months, or when she flirted with guys at parties.

Alex told him to just rip the band-aid off and tell her, but he’d rather stay friends forever - stand in her sunlight a little longer - than lose her over something as stupid as feelings.

Julie groaned. “It’s so cold!”

“You don’t get tired of saying that?” he teased, bumping their shoulders.

“No.” A smile pulled on her lips. “You keep reacting to it, so…”

“I asked if you also wanted a coffee and you said no.”

Her pout intensified as she rubbed her gloveless hands together. January in NYC was brutal, yet she refused to commit to the lifestyle. He bought her gloves last Christmas and she wore them once to appease him; they were probably stuffed in the back of her closet now.

“Because campus coffee sucks,” she argued.

Humming, he shrugged and took another sip. “Fair.” And then- “You could’ve stayed inside.”

It was the wrong thing to say, as her confused reply got his heart skipping a beat. “But you were going outside.”

He felt it again. That energy crackling between them whenever they said something a little too intimate - a little too real - and he couldn’t do anything about it without making it weird. There was this whole thing about not wanting to appear as some pathetic dude who was ‘waiting’ on her (even though he kind of was… yikes) or making a move cause he could. ‘Cause she was there.’

If he were to ever act on his feelings, he’d want her to know they were coming from a genuine place, not because he was a desperate asshole.

His arm twitched to curl around her shoulders. To tuck her in his side, warm her up, let his hot breath ghost the exposed skin. Maybe pulling her in his lap on the bench, allowing his gloved hands to rub life back in her legs. Maybe-

Argh. Luke was driving himself insane. Not overthinking it any longer, he threw the arm that brushed hers around her and squeezed her shoulder. Boom. There. Fucking easy and normal.

Her smile widened, his frustration instantly melting away at the sight and smiling back.

“Thanks,” she uttered. “You’re like an oven.”

He smirked. “Cause I’m smoking hot.”

She rolled her eyes, though her expression stayed put. “Sure.”

“That smile ain’t changing, Jules,” he drawled, playful. “You know it’s true.”

Her hand clutched onto the back of his jacket, the action almost making him fumble over his words. He knew how they’d look to outsiders now and hoped she wouldn’t catch onto that. The way she was looking up, the way he was gazing down with stupidly tender eyes, the coffee dangling precariously in his hand as if he’d drop it in a snap to cup her cheek instead.

(He probably would. Fuck campus coffee.)

Her other hand looped across his stomach tucked herself closer, their strut slowing down. Giggling at their odd position, Luke knew his resolve would be gone if she didn’t pull away soon. That burning tug in his chest urging him to the edge of the cliff.

“I feel used,” he joked.

“By me,” she pointed out. “There’s a difference.”

This made him stop entirely. “There is?”

“Yeah, it’s because…” she trailed off, suddenly shy.

His head ducked to meet her eyes with mischief in his tone. “Because?”

He didn’t know what he was trying to achieve here. What the fuck was he doing? The difference was that they were best fucking friends and she knew he didn’t mind close contact. Using humour to veil his flirtatious intent wasn’t going to change that.

She sighed and abruptly moved her face. “Because-”

And then her lips touched his.

They gasped, instantly pulling back to gawk at each other in surprise. Holy shit. Holy shit. It was just a mishap, it was just a mistake, he couldn’t think-

“-that,” she finished lamely, words barely coming out. Her eyes were wide and earnest. “Because of that.”

It was enough for him.

Luke dropped his coffee, slid his warm hand on her jaw and coaxed her back. A shot of adrenaline shot through him as her lips slanted across his, hungry and eager. They were only one second in and it was already so fucking intoxicating. His eyes were screwed shut, overwhelmed from bliss rippling his skin and the way she sighed and deepened each new touch.

He wouldn’t need coffee anymore if he got to kiss her like that every day.

Sinking in his knees to be closer, his lips puckered into a dopey grin. In an hour or two, he’d go insane over how soft her lips were, how amazing of a kisser she was, how it trumped any of his fantasies - now, all he could think of was how fucking lucky he was.

A shock of cold hit him, her hands sneakily having found their way under his jacket and sweater and now pressing against his sides.

He groaned against her mouth. “Jules, your hands.”

She giggled, so dazed it could kill him on the spot. “I know. We now share my pain.”

“Sounds good to me,” he mumbled, going back for more.

“Yeah?” Her hopeful tone got him looking at her, her shiny brown eyes and fond smile a one way ticket to falling in love with her in seconds. Maybe he’d been for a while. It didn’t matter.

They were here now.

Gently plucking one of her hands and kissing the knuckles, he shot her a dazzling smile. “Yeah… but I’m gonna find those gloves I bought for you though. You will get hypothermia otherwise.”

#juke #jatp fanfiction #kiss prompts #ask ophelia

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batsandbugs · 4 years

Text

Daminette December

A/N: Okay so this one spiraled out of control a little bit, but I’m so happy with how it turned out! Marinette and Damian back to being chaotic little shits, Marinette being understanding, and Damian going a little too far but finding the one person who doesn’t mind. Let me know what y’all think. Thanks @daminette-december2019-2020

Daminette December Day 15 – Cats

If you had told Marinette back in May that by Christmas she would be living in the most crime-infested city in America going to college, working at a pet store that was most likely a front for the Russian mob, and trying to unravel a 300-year-old curse on said crime-infested-city…

… she would have believed you.

After all, it wasn’t the weirdest thing that had ever happened to her.

But back to the pet store.

There she was a week before Christmas living in a shoebox apartment, drowning in fabric and notions, with a magical box filled with tiny gods who loved to squabble and give conflicting vague advice. They were supposed to work on how to break the giant magical curse laid out across the city, but Marinette had gotten hired at the local pet store down the street because if she spent one more minute sequestered inside trying to decipher the handwriting of centuries-old monks, without a break, she would scream.

Plus, the animals were ridiculously cute and the current owner obviously had no clue how to take care of them – which is how she concluded the store was a money-laundering front. The owner, a Mr. Petriov, had known her for all of three days before leaving her to manage the shop by herself. That hadn’t changed much in the month she had worked here, but at least the animals were in better shape now and she had a slightly larger budget for the endless amount of coffee she drank.

Marinette swept the back of the room, trying to make sure it was as clean as she could get it. Despite her best efforts at trying to cheer the place up, the plastic Christmas decorations and lively music did little to distract from the poor living conditions of the animals. Marinette wished there was some way to help, but she was rather limited in her options in a foreign city and Plagg’s suggestions of stealing all the animals and burning the place down was not a viable one.

No matter how much Marinette wanted to sometimes.

The store bell rang.

“I’ll be with you in just a moment,” she called. She finished sweeping the last of the room, before putting the broom away, and coming out to the main part of the store. “Hi there, I’m Marinette, how can I-”

“Did you know that Gotham Department of Health and Safety Regulations, Section 45: Animals and Livestock, subsection C.1: Living conditions, states that cages for cats must be 30 inches in width, 28 inches in length, 30 inches in height, and 30 inches on the diagonal? And that yours do not match those specifications?” There in the center of the store stood a man about her age. He was dressed head to toe in black, with a long, expensive, looking coat billowed out behind him. His voice was posh and smooth, and his tone could cut glass. He looked around the store in thinly veiled disgust.

Marinette vaguely recognized him. He’d been in the store about two weeks ago. He hadn’t said anything when she asked if he needed help. He just went around to all the cages watching the animals through the bars. She had gone about her normal routine, and then he left a little while later. The only reason she remembered him at all was he was wearing the same designer coat with wool Marinette’s hands itched to get a hold of.

“I- I did not. Although, this is not my store.” The man glared at her, and had Marinette not been used to a lifetime of truly piercing glares from Chloe, she might have crumbled underneath it. “I’ve only been working here for a month and let me tell you it’s better than it was before.”

“These conditions are intolerable.”

Marinette usually kept a cool façade with the few customers who came in here, but this man was obviously looking for a fight; not that she didn’t completely agree with him.

“I’m well aware, but I’m doing the best with what I have here, especially since my boss doesn’t care.” One of the cats mewled loudly, and Marinette sighed. She knew exactly who that was. Walking over to one of the cages she opened it up. A tiny grey cat with tipped black ears and paws jumped into her arms. Marinette had named him Macaroon since Mr. Petriov hadn’t bothered to give any of them names.

“Sorry,” she said. “Macaroon likes attention, and he’s good with people so I bring him out when others come in to pet them.” The man came over and let the cat sniff his hand before scratching under the his chin.

“He looks well taken care of,” he complimented, although he still scowled. Marinette couldn’t help but think he would be much more handsome if he smiled.

“As I said, I try my best. I take them all out of their cages so they can stretch their legs, and not just the dogs either. But that’s whenever I’m not cleaning, or prepping food, or taking care of the paperwork.” Or at home trying to figure out how to banish a city-wide curse, Marinette thought to herself.

The man hummed. “Look, you seem… nice.” He said the word in such a way that implied he didn’t believe the concept existed. “So, I’ll let you know ahead of time, but this store is going to get raided tomorrow. It’s a-”

“Front for the Russian Mob?” Marinette finished. The man seemed taken aback and immediately glared at her again. “Yeah, I figured that out within a few days of working here. I just had no clue as to who to go to about it. Who’s going to help a tiny French girl about a corrupt business in a city known for corruption?” She raised an eyebrow at the man who seemed taken aback by her abruptness.

“Fair point. So why are you working here then? If you know it’s corrupt.”

Marinette sighed; it was true she had plenty else to be doing, school was over for the semester sure, but there was always magic to learn, or sites to go check out to see if they were connected to the curse, or she could have gone home for the break and visited her parents, but…

If she did any of that, no one would be here to look out for the animals. And just because she couldn’t actively be a hero, didn’t mean she was going to turn up her back on those who needed her, even if they were of the four-legged variety.

She looked back at the handsome man; how could she explain any of that to him.

… not that she should.

Because that would be bad.

She didn’t know him at all.

Even if he was ridiculously good looking.

Fuck.

She did not have the time to get caught up in anything else, especially not a crush.

So instead, she went with a mostly true answer. “Just because the people running the store are bad, doesn’t mean the animals are. I would come by here on my way from school and would want to let the poor things out of their cages. So, when I finally had enough time, I applied for a job.” The look on the man’s face was a cross between surprise and understanding. “And you’d want to do something else too if the last three months all you did was stare at miles of hand-sewn hems and contemplate if death would be kinder.”

Marinette bet the man would deny it if pointed out, but the side of his mouth turned up at her comment.

“Understandable.”

“My question is,” she asked, stroking Macaroon who was happily purring away in her arms. “Why would you tell the person working at the Russian mob front that you’re going to have the store raided the next day? Doesn’t that seem a little counter-productive?” Not that Marinette was in any way complaining, she had been waiting for an opportunity like this for weeks.

“It depends on whether you tell your boss or not.”

“Hell no.”

Finally, the man’s face morphed from a resting scowl into a self-satisfied smirk.

Oh no, he’s even hotter like that, Marinette thought.

“Then I think telling was exactly the right idea. You’ll need to give a statement to the department doing the raid, but you won’t be in trouble for anything that went down here.”

Marinette nodded, and then remembered something. “Would pictures help?”

“Pictures?”

“I’ve been taking pictures of all the documents that come through the front desk. The legitimate ones and the less legitimate ones. It’s only about a month’s worth of stuff, but I have it on a flash drive.”

The man’s smirk grew a bit more. “Yes, I do believe that would be useful.”

Marinette smiled, finally glad this place would get shut down, but then she looked at Macaroon so snuggly in her arms, and all the other lovely creatures throughout the store came to mind. “And the animals, will they be okay?”

“Of course, I wouldn’t allow anything to happen to them. They’ll all be going to reputable shelters or good homes through the Wayne Foundation.”

Marinette readjusted Macaroon in her arms. “That’s good. So, should I bring the flash drive when I give my statement or-”

“I can take it,” he said quickly. “I mean,” he cleared his throat. “You can give it to me, and I can hand it off to the… proper authorities.” The glint in his eye spelled trouble. Marinette thought it was completely unfair how attractive she found it.

“It’s in my apartment. My shift is only another hour, but….” She thought about her mess of an apartment covered in yards of fabric, questionable ancient artifacts, and the tiny floating talking gods. “It’s a bit of a mess, how about we meet elsewhere?”

“Yes,” the man responded quickly. He looked down at Macaroon and stroked the cat’s back, a light blush playing out over his cheeks. “Of course, that would be acceptable.”

“Coffee then?” asked Marinette, glad to have a little longer to chat with him.

“Sounds good. Inman Perk at 7th and Forge Street?”

“I love that place. I’m Marinette by the way, I think I said that.”

The man smirked again, “You did, but it’s nice to hear it. I’m Damian, Damian Wayne.”

“I’d shake your hand Damian, but my arms are a little full.” She readjusted Macaroon, moving over to his cage placing the content cat back inside. Marinette smiled, happy to know this would be the last night the animals would have to sleep in these too-small cages. She turned back to Damian and offered her hand.

“I’m looking forward to working with you, Mr. Wayne,” she said with a grin.

He clasped his hand with hers, and she delighted at the chill it sent up her spine. “Not nearly as much as I am with you, Ms. Dupain-Cheng.”

Marinette paused for a moment, “I don’t think I ever gave you my last name?”

Damian paused, his face of a person caught with their hand in a cookie jar. “I may, perhaps, have done a slight background check on you before I decided to confront you today.” He retreated his hands and clasped them behind his back. “Uh, I- I apologize if that comes off a little…” he trailed off.

“Invasive, creepy, overbearing?”

Damian’s face fell. “Yes.”

Marinette tried hard to hold in her smirk. “Or protective, concerned, over-invested? I’ve had friends like that before.” Thinking particularly of Kagami, or her own actions towards Adrian during those early years. “It’s a little much, but not so bad especially when confronting someone who may be part of the Russian mob.”

Damian’s face went from contrite to an all-out grinning smirk. “You? Part of the mob? A little hard to believe.”

“Oh, you never know”’ she teased back. “I think I could pull it off, no one ever expects the tiny French girl.”

A bark from the back of the store interrupted their flirting, soon all of the dogs were barking, and Marinette realized the time.

“I’ve got to get them all taken out and fed. I’ll be finished in about an hour, I’ll grab the stuff from my apartment and meet you at… 8:30?”

Damian nodded. “Of course, see you there.” And with that he turned on his heel and walked out of the store, his long coat billowing like a cape behind him. Marinette watched him disappear from view and waited a second before she punched the air. She couldn’t wait. She kneeled back down at the cage and scratched Macaroon’s chin.

“Thanks for being such a good luck charm.” The cat purred back happily. Marinette headed off to finish what she needed to get done, wondering what the heck she was going to wear.

Permanent Tag List

@loveswifi @fusser90 @animegirlweeb @ihavehomeworkbutistillhere @your-resident-chicken-nugget @nathleigh @moonlitceleste @m3owww

#damian x marinette #maridami #maribat #damimari #mlb crossover #ml x dc #marinette dupain-cheng x damian wayne #marinette dupain cheng x damian wayne #moodboard #damientte #daminette december #day 15: cats

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surrealsunday · 4 years

Text

A NYE Mood Tattoo Not-So-Snippet...

NOTES: This is Explicit. Hear that? EXPLICIT. You’ve been warned.

Sorry this is a little late, friends (or a little late for Canadians, VERY late for Europeans). It was supposed to be a snippet. But I think I blacked out and now it’s over 11k. So... er... Happy New Year 😂!!! Hope you enjoy.

* * * *

Eliott turns the corner in the hospital to a not unfamiliar sight, but a welcome one all the same. Idriss and Daphne stand facing one another. Daphne has her hands on her hips, the look on her face so fierce she might look intimidating if not for what she had called her ‘New Years Eve scrubs’, pink decorated with splashes of colour like fireworks. Even in profile, Eliott can read the amusement mixed with what is likely genuine irritation, written across Idriss’s face.

And then there’s Lucas.

He stands to the side and between then, with an expression of such exasperation, Eliott can’t help the way his own face immediately breaks into a smile at the sight.

He stops before reaching the trio, leaning his shoulder against the wall as he watches. None of them have noticed him, too caught in their current squabble.

“I wasn’t the one who administered it, goldilocks,” Idriss says through gritted teeth. “I wasn’t even on shift.”

“But you followed up, muscles,” she argues. “You should have seen the error.”

“Oh right,” Idriss scoffs. “With all our free time.”

“It doesn’t require free time! It’s our job!”

“Jesus Christ, shut up!” Lucas interrupts, a hand moving to press against his forehead, before he rakes it back through his hair, his frustration clear. He seems to think better of his tone, however, when both Daphne and Idriss direct their ire his direction. “I’m just saying, I don’t care.” His voice has softened infinitesimally but it has maintained its hardened authority. “Fix it. I’ll talk to Dr. Faure. And you two better back me up after I do.”

Idriss and Daphne both cross their arms against their chests as they nod in perfect synchronicity, looking a lot like children on the received end of a scolding, who desperately want to talk back, but realize the consequences of doing so are not worth the impulse. Eliott very nearly laughs, biting his lip around his smile as he watches the scene unfold.

It still amazes him the way Lucas can look like he’s towering over others, even when – in Idriss’s case at least – they should be the one’s doing the towering. But there’s something so powerful about the way Lucas stands, the way he speaks, and the no-nonsense way he demands everyone else keep up because he won’t be waiting on him. There’s no question Idriss and Daphne feel the same, though Eliott doubts their reactions involve a sudden and desperate desire to pull Lucas into the nearest on-call room.

“What?” Lucas asks with eyebrows raised when Idriss and Daphne continue to stand staring at him. “You waiting to be dismissed? Go.”

Daphne huffs, and with an impressive flip of her ponytail, stomps off. Idriss pauses before he takes his own leave.

“You’re a prick,” he says. Despite his words there’s a small smile on his face when he looks at Lucas. Eliott knows that feeling – loving Lucas for his prick-ish ways as much as they piss you off. “But for what it’s worth, I’m sorry for the screw-up.”

Lucas nods. “It’s not your fault anymore than it’s mine. But we’re the one’s picking up the pieces so… just sort it, alright?” Lucas doesn’t look particularly forgiving, but his words are measured and more agreeable than Eliott would have expected, if a little exhausted. But then… it’s been a very long week.

Working straight through Christmas to the eve of the New Year has taken its toll and Eliott knows just how much of himself Lucas gives every shift. Eliott is no different, of course, but Lucas’s approach to work takes an emotional level of control Eliott will never quite understand, nor master. Something Eliott has come to realize since being with Lucas, is that the restraint Lucas uses while at work – adopting a professional veil that allows for little emotional expression outside of when he’s with the kids in the cancer ward – emotionally and physically exhausts him in a way Eliott hasn’t experienced – not like that. But despite Eliott’s protests that Lucas let himself go – relax on occasion – his boyfriend is nothing if not stubborn.

It’s alright though. It just means Eliott gets the most excellent pleasure of helping him relax, within hospital walls and outside of them. Of course, Eliott takes this honour quite seriously, and is happy to do so at every possible opportunity.

Though… Eliott considers the past week with a frown… there hasn’t been a lot of relaxing as of late. Exhaustion has won out even over everything else, including Eliott and Lucas’s fairly insatiable appetites for one another. The most they’ve managed over the past week is to wrap arms around one another as they’ve collapsed into bed together. It’s been nice. Certainly nothing Eliott would complain about. But the prospect of having the next two days off has his blood singing with the possibility of more.

Eliott lets his gaze glide across Lucas’s profile as his boyfriend turns with Idriss, saying a few more words and watching their friend disappear down the hall. His eyes catch on the side of Lucas’s neck where it meets his shoulder and a tendon strains against skin. Eliott wants to press his lips there, sink his teeth in and suck until the skin blooms with a bruise. Lucas will complain, tell Eliott he’s an asshole and leaving marks is ‘so highschool’. But then Eliott will catch him in the bathroom, staring at his own reflection as he presses two fingers down on the bruise and shivers.

Fuck.

Eliott wants him.

Lucas turns back towards the nurse’s station, depositing the paperwork he holds onto the surface and leaning over to leave a note. The line of his jaw is sharp. He’s clearly still irritated, his authoritative mask still in place. It slips the moment he turns, and his eyes finally catch Eliott’s. His formally hardened expression softens instantly, and he smiles. Eliott’s smile mirrors Lucas’s own and he presses off of the wall and approaches as Lucas does the same.

“So, you just stood there and watched as I dealt with those two?” Lucas says the moment they stop in front of one another. He’s cocked an eyebrow, but paired with the sweet smile on his face, the effect only makes him look like the sort of adorable troublemaker you want to smother in kisses… or, maybe that’s just Eliott.

Eliott raises an eyebrow to match Lucas’s in challenge. “You’d rather I’d have stepped in to rescue you?” Lucas snorts but doesn’t answer, both of them knowing Eliott’s idea of a rescue would be anything but. “Besides,” he adds, letting his eyes drag down Lucas’s body before they travel back up again to meet his eyes. “I like watching you.” Eliott knows he’s not imagining the way Lucas’s cheeks have taken on a sudden, rosy tinge.

Lucas’s eyes skitter away as he scoffs. “Perv.”

Eliott laughs. “Hey, I meant that in a purely innocent way. Just appreciating how hot and in-charge you are. In a strictly professional sense of course.”

“Mmhmm,” Lucas hums as he looks back to him, clearly not believing a word Eliott says. “What are you still doing here, anyways? Thought you were gonna go home to check on Daisy before dinner.”

Eliott nods, glancing towards the clock hanging above the nurse’s station. Shift should have ended almost an hour ago.

“Got caught up,” he admits, looking back to Lucas. “You too?”

Lucas nods. “Bit of a screw-up. Gotta go find Faure. You go home and check on Daisy. We can meet at dinner.”

Eliott eyes him suspiciously. “What about your clothes?” On a normal day, Lucas could get away with casual wear for a dinner with friends, but a New Years Eve celebration demands a different level of formality.

“Brought ‘em with me,” Lucas says with a shrug. “I’ll get ready here.”

Eliott takes in Lucas’s overly casual disposition. “This isn’t some elaborate plan to be late to dinner, is it?”

Lucas rolls his eyes and Eliott can hear the sarcasm in his voice before he even speaks. “Why would I ever want to be late to dinner with your ex?”

Eliott sighs, smiling despite himself as he reaches to pull Lucas closer by the front of his scrubs – a move Lucas allows likely only because the surrounding hallways appear to be deserted. “Anna was never my girlfriend,” he says unnecessarily. Lucas knows this so course. “And it’s not like it’s just dinner with her. Yann will be there,” he reminds Lucas, though it once again feels a bit unnecessary – not like they haven’t already discussed this dinner at painful length. “Idriss and Manon too.”

Lucas doesn’t look comforted by this at all, though Eliott didn’t expect him to. “Idriss won’t even get there until later.” A result of Idriss working a longer and less convenient shift than them. “It’s a double date and you know it.” His lower lip juts out just enough to hint at the pout he would have committed to if not for their current work setting.

“Yeah,” Eliott agrees with a shameless shrug. That had been the point of course. But he and Yann had agreed to somewhat soften the potential Lucas-shaped reaction to such a suggestion, by expanding the guest list to include the other couple. “And it’s going to be fun.”

Lucas dips his head and steps closer, curling fingers into the front of Eliott’s scrubs and looking up through his lashes. Eliott’s mouth drops open, surprised by the sudden change in mood from his boyfriend, but far too enraptured to question it. “More fun than staying home?” Lucas bites his lower lip, letting it pop from his mouth shiny and wet. “Could stay in bed,” Lucas continues, his voice soft and suggestive. “Just me and you. Naked.” He blinks slowly, his eyes wide and deep blue. “I could ride you. Ring in the new year with you inside me.”

Eliott shudders, squeezing his eyes. It does nothing to stop the flood of images filling his brain. He slips his hands down to Lucas’s waist, squeezing as he opens his eyes and calls on every measure of self-control he’d normally allow to desert him when faced with such a suggestion. “You are…” He stares at Lucas’s guileless face – a façade he’s perfected, “an unbelievable brat. And we’re going to dinner.”

Lucas huffs, shoving Eliott away from him and crossing his arms across his chest with his face turned away. “You used to be easier for me.”

Eliott laughs and it comes out as a low rumble, the air between them so heady with want, he’s beginning to question his own decisions now too. “You have no idea how easy I am for you, baby.”

Lucas’s eyes track back to him and rest for a moment. “You better make good on that later.” It should be a threat. Instead, it sounds only like an invitation.

Eliott nods. “I will.” It’s a guarantee and they both know it.

“Fine.” Lucas’s arms fall back to his sides. “I need to get going. I’ll see you at the restaurant then.”

Eliott nods. “See you there.” He doesn’t make a move to leave.

Lucas stares at him for a moment before he turns and begins making his way down the hall.

“Dr. Lallemant,” Eliott calls after him, smile already growing on his face.

Lucas stops and glances back curiously. “What?”

“It’s red. Definitely red.”

Lucas’s eyebrows scrunch together in confusion before his eyes clear with understanding and he glances down at his arm, his tattoo half exposed by the way he’s pulled up the sleeves of his lab coat. When he looks back up it’s with his middle finger raised. Eliott laughs, watching as Lucas spins back around and rushes down the hall.

In all honesty, Eliott isn’t sure how they’re supposed to make it through a dinner with friends, and the party at Alex, Emma, and Lucille’s that is to follow, without jumping one another. The anticipation feels tangible in the air, licking at his skin, both hot and cold. He can practically see the flames form, blue at their core, red as they lick at his skin. One thing is for certain, if history has taught Eliott anything… Lucas is worth the wait.

* * * *

“And how’s my baby?” Eliott asks before rethinking his choice of words. “Don’t tell Lucas I call you that when he’s not around. He’s the jealous type.”

Eliott smiles down at the furry face of Daphne’s pet bunny. Eliott and Lucas had agreed to care for her over the next four days as Daphne and Basile were going away following Daphne’s shift at the hospital. Eliott and Lucas had been pondering getting a pet for a while but being as busy as they were at the hospital had decided to put it off until they knew they could devote themselves a little better to the undertaking. Knowing how much they both missed having pets around, however, Daphne had given them a chance to take care of Daisy while she was away. ‘A pet-parent test run’ she’d called it and they’d been more than eager to accept. And so, Daisy was theirs – at least for the next four days.

Eliott pulls her from her cage, giving her the requisite snuggle and kisses before he lets her down on the floor to explore and goes about cleaning her cage, providing some fresh water and food, before cutting up a couple radishes and strips of bell pepper to leave her as a treat for later. Maybe they spoil her a little. Eliott feels confident Daphne won’t mind, and Lucas and Eliott had both agreed that as Daisy’s uncles it was their job to overly indulge her.

Eliott spends a little too much time playing with Daisy and is forced to rush through his shower, changing quickly into a simple maroon button up shirt, and black slacks. He’s just pulled his coat on and is scrutinizing his artfully tousled hair in the mirror by the door when his phone buzzes in his pocket. Eliott smiles when he sees Lucas’s name on the screen.

He picks up. “Hey baby, I was –”

“Where are you?!!”

Eliott’s eyebrows rise, surprised by the ferocity of Lucas’s tone. He quickly glances towards the clock on the stove in the kitchen. There’s a good five minutes until their dinner reservation and the restaurant is right between their apartment and Eliott’s old one. They’d specifically planned it that way. At this pace, he’d likely have ended up being five or so minutes late but… the point is, he’s not late yet.

“I’m… on my way.” It suddenly seems in the best interest of his desire to have sex with Lucas again at some point in the future that he not tell Lucas he hasn’t left yet. He rushes to collect his keys as he speaks. “Why?”

“Why?! Because I’m here you asshole, and so is SHE.”

Never in his wildest dreams did Eliott expect Lucas would be early to dinner. “Oh.”

“Oh? Oh?! That’s what you have to say? I swear to –”

“Wait,” Eliott interrupts as he locks their door, hurrying down the building’s hallway, “you’re calling me with Anna right there?”

“She went to the bathroom,” Lucas huffs. “Probably ‘cause she knows this is fucking awkward too and that our boyfriends suck.”

“Yann isn’t there?” Eliott asks, knowing immediately this was a stupid question to ask.

“If he was here, would I be calling you?! He’s late too, the dickhead.”

Eliott decides against pointing out he’s not actually late – not for another two minutes. “Well, I’m on my way. I’ll be there soon.”

“And what am I supposed to do ‘til then?!”

Eliott holds his breath for a moment so as not to laugh. “Talk to her maybe? Make conversation.”

Lucas is quiet for a moment. “God, I hate you.”

Eliott grins, pushing out of the front door of their building and making his way to the street. “You don’t.”

“She’s coming back. I have to go.”

“Love you, baby,” Eliott rushes to say before Lucas hangs up. “Please don’t kill one another before Yann and I get there.” Lucas hangs up.

Eliott tucks his phone back into his pocket, picking up his pace to a gentle jog.

It’s not Anna he has to worry about – not Lucas either really. That’s the ridiculous part of Lucas’s protests when it comes to spending any time with Anna. Eliott is almost positive Lucas actually likes her. It makes sense really. They’re both funny, smart, witty people, able to trade barbs and jokes with the sort of seamless back and forth that’s more familiar in a scripted movie than real life. And Eliott is positive Lucas harbors a grudging amount of respect for the way Anna refuses to back down when faced with any misplaced animosity directed her way in the form of one blue-eyed boyfriend. But while Lucas and Anna’s tentative foray into friendly acquaintance has been in process for months, they’ve never been forced to test their precarious comradery while alone. This was admittedly not a contingency he and Yann had considered. Eliott slows his pace enough to pull out his phone and text Yann.

You almost at the restaurant?

Yann responds immediately. Had to drop something by my mom’s. Running a bit late

Eliott sighs unhappily, texting back. Same. He adds a few alarm bell emojis for good measure.

Yann texts back a series of question marks.

Lucas and Anna are there. ALONE. Eliott stares at his phone as he watches the typing bubble appear on Yann’s end.

Oh fuck

Eliott snorts. Please hurry. And pray he doesn’t murder me too

On my way

* * * *

When Eliott rushes into the restaurant, harried, perhaps a little sweaty, and eight minutes late, it’s to a sight he didn’t foresee. While he hadn’t actually expected Lucas and Anna to be in the midst of an all-out brawl, the picture before him seems just as impossible.

Anna and Lucas are sat across from one another at a table for six – not just sat across from one another but leaning towards one another. They’ve both got their forearms pressed to the table as they speak, heads bent forward and together in body language that would suggest… well, a date, if Eliott didn’t know better. Anna is smiling as she speaks, waving a hand in gesture through the air as Lucas listens. And even more shockingly, there’s a slight smile on Lucas’s face, begrudging maybe, but present all the same. He’s nodding as Eliott approaches.

Anna cuts herself off as she sees Eliott. “Oh, well, look who decided to show.”

Eliott smiles with a bashful shrug. “I’m not the only one who’s late.” He nods towards the empty chair beside Anna.

“Yeah,” Anna agrees. “But my boyfriend warned me he’d be late. What about you?” She raises her eyebrow like she knows the answer. She likely does.

“I didn’t think I’d be late,” Eliott says, adding a bit of a pout in fruitless hope of garnering some sympathy. He slips off his coat and folds it across the back of his chair. Taking the seat next to Lucas, he directs pitiful eyes his boyfriend’s way. “I planned to be on time.”

Lucas snorts, looking back to Anna. “Probably convinced himself Daisy didn’t want him to leave and spent an extra ten minutes cuddling her. That or he lost track of time doing his hair.” Eliott cannot admit that Lucas is right.

Anna laughs. “That sounds likely. Always was too nice and pretty for his own good.” Eliott winces, looking to Lucas in preparation for his boyfriend’s irritation with Anna for acknowledging any positive attributes in Eliott. But Lucas is… laughing? Eliott stares agape as his boyfriend speaks, his voice relaxed and amused.

“It’s a deadly combo really, but I guess you know. Yann’s so nice sometimes it actually pisses me off.”

“Oh lord, tell me about it,” Anna expels in a dramatic breath. “We’re walking the other day,” she leans forward as she begins her story and Lucas mirrors her position, “and he sees this old lady struggling with her grocery bags –”

“Oh god,” Lucas groans as though he’s already guessed where this story is going.

Anna nods in agreement with the unspoken assumption. “He insists on helping her. Not just organize her bags – oh no, no – we have to walk her home. The lady lived, like, three blocks in the opposite direction we were going.”

Lucas laughs. “Shit. That sounds just like him.”

Eliott doesn’t understand why they’re sharing this anecdote as though it were a bad thing. “But that’s nice,” he protests with a frown. “What if she couldn’t have made it on her own?”

Lucas looks to him with a dramatic roll of his eyes, glancing back at Anna. “So now you know I literally feel your pain.”

Anna giggles. “For real. And it’s not like I wanted the lady to struggle or something. I would have helped her get organized and sent her on her merry way.”

“Totally practical,” Lucas agrees with a resolute nod.

“And we’re not at the beginning of dating,” Anna continues. “Like the kid doesn’t need to impress me, anymore. Believe me, I’m impressed.” She adds a suggestive raise of her eyebrows and Lucas laughs. “Nah, he just does this stuff out of the goodness of his heart.” She says it as though this is a miraculous – and perhaps ridiculous – quality for a man to possess.

“A freak of nature,” Lucas agrees with a shake of his head. “Should’a seen teen-me trying to get over his ass when he insisted on being such a nice guy.”

“The nerve,” Anna laughs. “He could have at least been gay if he was going to insist on being nice to you.”

“All I’m saying,” Lucas agrees with a laugh of his own.

Eliott’s gaze swings between them both, incredulous. “You told Anna you crushed on Yann?” He and Lucas have barely even discussed that. Though perhaps that’s due to Eliott’s desire to forget entirely that Lucas has ever been attracted to other men – celebrities they are unlikely to ever meet being the only exception.

Lucas glances at him quickly with a shrug, before directing his attention back to Anna. “I ever tell you about the time we were in the locker room and he changed extra slow so I could have a look?” Eliott frowns.

“Shut up!” Anna laughs. “He would.”

Eliott watches as Lucas goes about retelling the story to Anna’s delight. He should be glad they’re getting along. And he is – don’t get him wrong, he is. It’s all he and Yann have wanted. But there’s a niggling feeling like disappointment sitting in his gut too, and Eliott can’t totally explain it. Or perhaps he can. He knows what it is. It just feels too ridiculous to acknowledge out loud – even if ‘out loud’ means ‘inside the privacy of his own mind’.

It’s only that… he likes the way Lucas gets all huffy and possessive when Anna’s name comes up. And no, Eliott doesn’t want a relationship of mistrust and jealousy. But he and Lucas aren’t like that. Not normally. They love one another. They trust in their relationship and one another. But… well… sometimes it’s fun to want one another so badly, they can’t help but behave like the occasional jealous moron when it comes to others. And sometimes it’s even more fun to work out that pent up frustration in other – less public-restaurant appropriate – ways.

And yes, Eliott will agree, he’s definitely an idiot. He needs no convincing where that is concerned.

He sighs and tunes back in just as Lucas is saying, “Fuck. A whole four minutes. Consider yourself lucky.”

Eliott narrows his eyes suspiciously. “What are you talking about?”

Lucas looks over to him, his eyes reflecting challenge. “You’re sitting right here. Shouldn’t you know?”

“He was ignoring us,” Anna jumps in to comment. “We should probably be insulted.”

“Yeah,” Lucas agrees with a smile as he continues to look at Eliott. “But he probably just got lost in imagining me naked. It happens.”

Eliott is torn between being insulted and, well… actually picturing Lucas naked. It’s not his fault! Lucas put the thought right there. “You don’t need to speak of me in third person when I’m literally right here.”

Lucas grins, bringing a hand up to brushing fingers along the shell of Eliott’s ear. “Are you though, baby?” Baby. Lucas so rarely uses that term of endearment, it still hits Eliott like a ton of bricks every time he does. He’s thankfully saved in having to respond by Yann’s appearance.

“There’s my man,” Anna squeals when she sees him, standing up as he approaches the table.

Yann’s eyes widen at the sight of her. He looks at her as though they haven’t been seriously committed to one another for over five months now. It’s incredibly sweet. “Damn,” Yann crows, reaching around Anna’s back to pull her closer as he kisses her in greeting. “You sure you’re with the right guy?”

“How’s that?” She asks with a laugh, winding her arms around his neck as she leans back with a vibrant smile.

“No way a woman this beautiful gives me the time of day,” Yann continues, moving a hand to brush against the riot of natural curls framing Anna’s face.

“Must be something pretty special about you then,” Anna banters back.

“Alright,” Lucas interrupts loudly. “That’s enough of you two being disgusting. Take a seat, Cazas.”

Yann laughs and with one more kiss pressed to Anna’s cheek, he moves to do as asked.

“At least someone got a proper hello,” Eliott grumbles beneath his breath, but admittedly, loud enough for Lucas to hear.

Lucas turns to him, one eyebrow raised. “Something to say, average?”

Eliott’s eyes narrow and he sits back in his chair with a huff that maybe wouldn’t be out of place in a primary school classroom. “No.”

“So,” Yann says, looking between Anna and Lucas, “you two are getting along then?”

Anna laughs while Lucas scoffs and answers. “You’re not supposed to just ask like that. Have I taught you nothing about how to avoid situations until they blow up in your face, Yanny boy?” Yann joins Anna in her laughter and Eliott can’t help the way his mouth twitches at the corners into the beginnings of a smile. “Now, we’re gonna have to go back to pretending to hate one another.”

“Is that what we were doing?” Anna asks, her smile bright. “Here I thought there was some authenticity to that hate.”

Lucas shrugs. “Yeah. But look where that gets me.” He directs a thumb in Eliott’s direction.

“You never hated me,” Eliott protests, forgetting he’s supposed to be pouting in the face of such fallacious slander. It’s to no avail, however, as the others are too taken with one another to give him any attention.

“Well, I can at least promise I won’t follow you around trying to dry-hump you like I’m sure he did,” Anna says with a laugh as she settles back in her seat with Yann’s arm resting around her shoulders.

“I didn’t,” Eliott says, sitting up slightly from his chair, feeling a lot like he’s talking into a void.

“We kinda skipped the dry-hump stage,” Lucas says with a smile, not even glancing at Eliott as he speaks. “Went right to getting his dick in my mouth if I’m honest.”

Anna laughs, looking quickly with a smile to Yann before she responds. “Well… same, so, I guess I can’t judge.” Lucas and Yann laugh.

“I’ll drink to that.” Lucas lifts his wine glass.

Anna does the same, clinking glasses with Lucas. “To dicks in our mouths!”

With truly impeccable timing, Manon and Idriss take that moment to appear.

“Uh,” Idriss grimaces at he looks down on them. “Did I miss when that became a toast?”

Manon laughs. “I dunno. Has a certain ring to it I’d say.” It leads to a new round of laughter that even Eliott – determined as he is to sulk – is helpless against.

They all settle at the table and into conversation, and eventually, when their waiter appears looking impressively bored, food too. It’s a truly pleasant evening, as Eliott and Yann knew it would be once Lucas and Anna finally relaxed around one another. Laughter comes easily and it really would be the perfect night out if not for the way Lucas is barely paying attention to Eliott. It’s not that Eliott needs his hand held at all times – not even that he needs Lucas’s focus on him, but he can’t help but feel a little like he’s being intentionally ignored. Lucas is all laughter and smiles for everyone but him. He’s being his most charming self, effusive, witty, and interesting, but it’s missing a dynamic Eliott hadn’t realized he’d gotten so used to. The shared smiles and the quick glances of understanding, that silent acknowledgement of one another in the form of subtle touches or lingering eye contact, the inside jokes and comments directed only at one another… it’s all just… absent. Eliott isn’t about to make a monumental ‘the world and our relationship as we know it are ending’ deal over it, but what he is going to do is mope. And loudly… or as loudly as one can without actually speaking at all.

Idriss’s hits the side of Eliott’s leg just as everyone are finishing up their main courses. He waits until Eliott glances at him before he speaks in a quiet enough voice that it’s almost lost in the riotous conversation happening across the rest of the table.

“What’s up with you pouting all meal, bro?”

Eliott’s frown deepens. “I’m not.”

Idriss’s expels a disbelieving breath. “Right.” He glances past Eliott towards Lucas before asking, “You two fight or something?”

Eliott shakes his head, sighing as he glances towards Lucas who sports a bright smile as he chats with Yann and Anna. He feels like a dick for being upset when Lucas is clearly having a great time – when that is all Eliott wanted. He’s just… a mess.

“No.” He turns back to Idriss, not bothering to school his unhappy expression. “We’re fine actually.”

Idriss’s eyebrows pull together with concern. “You wanna take a breather?” He juts his chin towards the exterior of the restaurant. “I’ll come with.”

“That’s a good idea,” Manon interrupts, having rounded from her side of the table to wrap arms around Idriss’s neck from behind. She presses a kiss to his cheek. “I was going to go freshen up in the bathroom. Maybe you should do the same, Eliott.”

He stares at her in confusion before grabbing for his napkin, horrified, and pressing it about his mouth. “Do I have something on my face?”

“Bro, I would have told you,” Idriss laughs. Eliott doesn’t actually agree with that statement. Once, Idriss had let him approach a hot guy at bar with the tail end of his shirt hanging through his open fly like a very tiny, white dick. But he generously doesn’t mention that memory – not particularly wanting to relive the humiliation himself.

“Nothing like that,” Manon says, brushing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I only meant you might feel a little better if you had a chance to splash some water on your face. That always helps me.”

Her suggestion is still incredibly odd and feels just a little out of place, but Eliott shrugs, figuring its better than continuing to sit and sulk at the table. It also occurs to him that perhaps she wants to speak to him away from the table – maybe there’s an issue with her and Idriss? – and while the last thing he wants to do is take on the worries of another couple, it would be the very least he could do considering the many ways Idriss and Manon have been there for Lucas and Eliott.

“Alright.” He stands from the table, glancing towards Lucas but his boyfriend doesn’t pay him any mind, steadfastly continuing the retelling of a story to Anna. He’s talking about a recent article he read about the removal of an enormous tapeworm from a surgical patient. He’d already excitedly told Eliott about it as they’d laid together in bed one evening reading. It’s the least dinner appropriate story Eliott can imagine. He loves that Lucas isn’t the least bit concerned by that, continuing in his graphic retelling as Anna’s face transforms with more and more disgust. It makes Eliott smile, perhaps a little sadly, as he turns to accompany Manon to the restaurant’s bathrooms.

Manon doesn’t speak as they begin walking, a serene smile on her face.

“Are you and Idriss ok?” Eliott asks, more bluntly than he ever would normally but he doesn’t quite have the energy to be anything but. And it’s not like a very short walk to the bathrooms allows for any subtly.

Manon looks to him in surprise. “Yes. We’re great. Why do you ask?”

Eliott gestures around them as they walk. “Thought you wanted to get me alone to talk shit about him maybe.”

Manon laughs lightly. “No. Nothing like that. I’d say we’re still very much in the honeymoon stage.”

Eliott smiles a little. “I’m glad.”

They pause awkwardly outside the bathrooms and she turns back to him with a mischievous smile. “I suppose it is a bit annoying that I can’t ever save leftovers. He eats them all.”

Eliott laughs. “I know. You can’t even hide them. Once I tried the back of the freezer and –”

“Me too!” She cuts him off with a laugh. “I saved the rest of this amazing chocolate cake I couldn’t finish at the restaurant. I tucked it under the frozen Brussel sprouts, and I was sure he wouldn’t find it but –”

“He did,” Eliott finishes for her. “Yeah. Been there. No delicious food is safe from Idriss.”

“He said anyone who didn’t finish dessert deserved to have their leftovers eaten,” she finishes with a snort, affection dripping from her every word.

“Eh. He might not be wrong there.” Eliott laughs as Manon swats at him.

“Well, you live with Lucas who will absolutely eat you out of house and home, so I won’t feel too sorry for myself,” she says as Eliott snorts in agreement. “Anyways, I’m going to go freshen up. You should do the same. I’m sure you’ll feel better.”

Eliott isn’t so convinced but he does as told. He pees and washes his hands, leaning against the counter as he stares at himself in the mirror. There’s no one else in the communal bathroom, and he takes a moment to feel sorry for himself. It’s silly to work up such a fuss over the loss of attention of one’s boyfriend for the finite duration of a meal, but it’s such a rare occurrence to not have Lucas’s attention, Eliott isn’t quite sure what to do with this needy feeling gnawing at his gut.

He turns the tap on for the cold water and leans down to splash it on his face, listening as the door to the bathroom opens behind him. That’s just great. Now some random person is going to know him as the weirdo who washes his face in the restaurant bathroom. Eliott quickly straightens and reaches for the stack of paper towels on the counter. He pats his face dry before he dares to look up into the mirror’s reflection to see if the newcomer has given him any notice. He stops short when he sees the face staring back.

Lucas.

Eliott turns around, reaching to throw away the paper towels before he looks back to Lucas in question.

“Need to pee?” He asks somewhat stupidly, feeling strangely insecure and maybe a little out of sorts.

“Remember the first night we met?” Lucas asks instead of answering.

Eliott’s eyebrows fly up in surprise. As if he could ever forget. “Yes. Of course.”

Lucas approaches him slowly, stopping when they’re separated by a meter of space. “You followed me into the bathroom then.” He smiles a little, looking away as he gets lots in the memory. “So fucking smooth I didn’t know what the hell to make of you.”

Eliott laughs a little, his smile widening as Lucas looks back to him. “I really wasn’t. I was seriously freaking out actually. But…” He shrugs, “felt important you thought I was smooth.”

Lucas tilts his head as he looks at Eliott, small smile decorating his lips. “Offering up a blowjob was pretty smooth.”

Eliott shrugs, unashamed and unabashed. “You can’t blame me. Look at you.”

Lucas steps closer, stopping when they’re separated only by the width of a stretched hand. “Sure I can.” He says it softly, tilting his head back as he looks at Eliott. It sounds a lot like he means something else – like kiss me should be in place of the words he’s spoken. But despite the very real need Eliott feels to meet this silent demand, he can’t quite let go of his former sulk.

“You’ve been ignoring me all night.”

Lucas doesn’t look particularly surprised by this complaint, his eyes just barely registering acknowledgement. “I have.” It sounds more like a statement than a question.

“Yes,” Eliott confirms unnecessarily. “Laughing with everyone. Talking. Being all… cute and funny. But not to me.”

Lucas’s eyebrows rise and his smile pulls into a bit of a smirk. “And you think I don’t know what you’re doing?”

Eliott frowns. “I wasn’t doing anything.”

Lucas breathes a slight laugh. “Exactly. Sitting there pouting because I wasn’t giving you any attention.”

Eliott can’t exactly argue with that. “Well… so? You’d be the same if I was ignoring you.”

“Yeah,” Lucas agrees easily with a shrug. “Probably.”

“So then why?” Eliott asks, staring at him in confusion.

Lucas licks his lips, and Eliott notices there’s a flush to his cheeks that wasn’t there previously. “I can’t look at you when I’m like this. I can’t talk to you – feel your eyes on me like this.”

Eliott’s mouth parts as he stares down at Lucas. “Like this? Like what?”

Lucas looks around them, glancing to the empty stalls before he takes hold of Eliott’s shirt, spinning them so his back is to the mirror. He reaches for the button on his own pants.

“Lucas,” Eliott warns in a hushed whisper, glancing quickly to the surrounding bathroom though he knows it’s empty, “we can’t. Anyone could come in.”

“I know.” Lucas doesn’t look at all deterred. He unzips his pants and reaches for Eliott’s hand.

Eliott is helpless to stop him, so desperate to get his hands on Lucas, every patron in the restaurant could walk in on them and Eliott would probably only shrug. Lucas doesn’t pull the hand to the front of his pants as Eliott was expecting, however, and Eliott’s eyebrows fly up in surprise as Lucas instead presses Eliott’s hand to the back of his pants, pushing it down against his heated skin.

Eliott steps closer, pressing their bodies together with a shudder as he gropes at Lucas’s ass. “Baby…”

“Lower,” Lucas directs, his breath now coming in quick pants.

Eliott does as told, knowing their time alone in the bathroom is precarious and undetermined, and having no idea what it is Lucas has planned. He slides his hand lower, fingers seeking until they reach the area on Lucas’s body he’s come to know so well – that he’s worshiped with his fingers… his tongue… his cock. Only… he freezes… this is not at all what he expected.

“Lucas…” He sounds awed which is only appropriate. His fingers prod at the hard, circular shape blocking Lucas’s hole from his prying fingers.

“Can’t look at you when I know,” Lucas pants, his words a rush of breath as Eliott’s fingers continue to feel out the butt plug Eliott now realizes Lucas has had inside him the entire evening. “Can’t talk to you, touch you, without thinking about it.”

“What?” Eliott prompts, so turned on he feels dizzy with it. He gets his fingers around the rim of the plug and tugs, watching as Lucas gasps loudly, falling forward to press hands against Eliott’s chest.

“You,” Lucas pants, looking up at Eliott with dark eyes. “You inside me. Knowing –” He chokes on a breath as Eliott’s fingers continue to prod at the plug. “Knowing I’m ready for you – stretched for you – for your cock.”

“Lu, baby –” Eliott doesn’t get a chance to finish his thought when Lucas is grabbing his forearm and pulling his arm away, removing Eliott’s hand from his pants. “But…” Eliott trails off desperately, watching with disbelieving, confused eyes as Lucas goes about refastening his pants. His dark jeans bulge a little at the front, but he looks otherwise just as put together as he had when he’d entered the bathroom.

Lucas looks back up and bites his bottom lip. Eliott needs to kiss him and is only stopped by the firm hand Lucas presses to his chest when he realizes Eliott’s intent. “We’ve got a dinner with our friends to finish,” Lucas points out. Eliott is satisfied to see his breath remains unsteady and affected. Eliott has never been less interested in socializing with the people he loves more than right fucking now. “Was your idea after all.” Lucas smirks and Eliott can’t do anything but stare at him with renewed awe.

“You’re…” He can’t even finish the thought. Lucas has done it to torture him. He’s… diabolical. The most cheeky… clever… teasing brat on the planet. Eliott loves him so goddamn much.

Lucas smiles, as smug as anything. “Now c’mon. We wait any longer they’re gonna think we’re hooking up in here.” With that he spins on his heel and makes his way to the bathroom door.

Eliott stares down at his own pants, more formal than Lucas’s and more clearly showing the shape of his erection stretching the front of the fabric. He sighs, untucking the ends of his shirt and letting them hand down his front. He’ll look a bit like a slob but better that than a horny pervert with a dick so hard it could be registered as a weapon. He buys himself an extra moment to compose himself as he washes his hands once more, but it does nothing to help the way his heart is pounding in his chest.

Lucas is smirking as Eliott turns to him, his eyes skating down to where Eliott’s shirt hangs loose before rising to catch his eyes. He looks… proud. That’s the look reflected in the deep blue of his eyes. And all at once, Eliott feels… settled… calmer and more at peace than he has all evening.

Lucas wants him. Badly. Eliott wants him back. Just as desperately as he ever has.

All is right in their world.

* * * *

They’ve been at the party for a grand total of maybe ten minutes and Eliott is going to lose his goddamn mind. He’s convinced Lucas is being especially hot for the sole purpose of driving Eliott to the brink of total madness.

Lucas stands across the room in conversation with Alex. He’s rolled the sleeves of his shirt up and his tattoo stands out, bright and colourful in the twinkly lights hanging down the wall of the living room. Alex laughs at something Lucas has said, moving a hand to clasp the spot Eliott had admired on Lucas earlier – that space where Lucas’s neck and shoulder meet. Eliott twitches.

“Are you planning on listening at any point in this conversation or should I leave you to your staring contest with Lucas?”

Eliott looks quickly back to where not just Imane, but Mika stare at him with identical expressions of judgement. He adopts an appropriately apologetic expression. “Sorry, sorry. I was just –”

“Ignoring us in favour of staring at your boy,” Mika finishes for him. “We know.” He turns to look at Imane. “Don’t feel bad about it. This is my life at the hospital.”

“I can only imagine,” Imane laughs. “Supervising these two is a challenge I would not trade you for.”

“It’s not,” Eliott interrupts to disagree. “We’re totally professional when we’re at work.” It’s most certainly a lie, and all three of them know it.

“Mmhmm,” Mika hums with an eyebrow raised. “And last week when you both showed up to rounds, sweaty and out of breath? You expect me to believe you hadn’t just been fucking in an on-call room?” They hadn’t actually. On that particular occasional they had been rushed and nearly late because they’d spent the morning fucking at home.

Eliott smiles smugly. “We hadn’t been. Because: professional.” Mika rolls his eyes and Eliott turns his attention back to Imane. “Besides, it’s not a staring contest.”

“Oh no?” She questions, looking amused.

“No. He’d have to be looking back for it to be a staring contest.” Eliott eyes return to Lucas to see that he and Alex have been joined by Emma. She hangs off Alex looking like she’s been happily partaking in the plentiful alcoholic options the apartment has to offer.

“Well, if there’s one thing I know for absolute certain,” Imane says, her hand landing on Eliott’s shoulder as she too turns to look Lucas’s direction. “You’re not going to have to wait long for him to look back.”

* * * *

Eliott mingles among the guests, making pleasant conversation but the buzz beneath his skin doesn’t fade. It’s matched by the buzz of party guests as the clock approaches midnight.

Eliott admires Lucas in the room through his various conversations, but at one point, deep into a conversation with Imane and Sofiane, Eliott looses sight of him among the guests.

“I think the way the show blends philosophical theory with real world problems and does it in this way that’s just really, really funny is what captured my attention most,” Imane is saying. Eliott nods as he listens, subtly scanning the faces behind her for any sign of his disappearing boyfriend.

“And yet it took me forever to convince you to watch,” Sofiane says with a laugh.

“I don’t like sitcoms,” she defends with a smile. “How was I supposed to know it was brilliant?”

“Because I told you?” Sofiane asks incredulously. Eliott laughs along with Imane as his attention returns to the couple. “Admit it,” Sofiane prompts, “you only agreed to watch when Lucas told you to.”

“What can I say?” Imane says, her tone teasing. “I value his taste.”

“Careful in insulting my taste,” Sofiane challenges, pulling Imane closer with an arm wrapped around her waist. “That includes you.”

“Oh, where I’m concerned, your taste is impeccable,” she responds with a grin. “In television, I defer to Lucas.”

Eliott laughs a little. “You really shouldn’t. Lucas’s taste in TV is a strange and confusing thing.” Both Imane and Sofiane laugh as Eliott adds, “And he only watched The Good Place because of me.” Maybe he’s a little proud of that fact.

“Have you gotten to that part when –” Sofiane is immediately cut off by Imane smacking a hand against his chest. And while Sofiane’s sentence didn’t give away a thing, she seems to know where his sentence was headed anyways.

“No! You’ll spoil them like you did me! They’ve only just started the third season.”

Eliott frowns. “We’re just at the end of the second season actually. Besides I’ve seen the whole show. It’s only Lucas you could spoil.”

Imane looks to him with furrowed eyebrows. “Lucas said he’s already watched a couple episodes from season three.”

Eliott gasps, almost choking on his outraged breath. “He what?!”

Imane looks faintly apologetic while Sofiane only looks confused. “What am I missing?” He asks.

“Lucas watched without me,” Eliott answers. “I cannot believe…”

“Didn’t you just say you’ve already seen it?” Imane asks, looking like she’s one breath from a full-body laugh.

“That’s not the point!” Eliott argues. “That little brat knows it too. Oh, I’m going to…” He can’t finish his sentence. The unspeakable things he wants to do to Lucas in punishment not at all appropriate for the ears of his friends. He quickly scans the room once more and this time there are eyes looking back. Lucas. And he’s finally looking back.

He stands just at the edge of the room, leaning against the corner of the wall. He’s with no one else and he’s staring at Eliott with intent. He raises an eyebrow, biting his lower lip and turns, moving into the shadows of the hallway. Eliott just barely remembers to turn back to Imane and Sofiane, offering a pithy excuse they no doubt see right through, both of their faces reflecting barely restrained laughter.

Eliott hurries across the room, thankful that his desperate chase of Lucas is somewhat masked by how crowded the space is, filled with friends, hospital staff, and any number of faces Eliott has never seen before in his life. When he reaches the hall, he finds Lucas standing next to what had once been Eliott’s bedroom door. Eliott approaches cautiously, hyper aware of the other people crowding the hallway as they wait for access to the one bathroom.

“Took you long enough,” Lucas says and reaches for the door handle.

Eliott grabs his hand before he opens it. “Lucas,” he warns, “it’s not my room anymore.” He doesn’t know why he bothers to object. He’d follow Lucas anywhere.

Lucas smirks. “That gonna stop you?”

Eliott stares at him, eyes dropping to the smug curl of Lucas’s lips. “Fuck no.” He reaches for the doorknob himself, twisting it and pushing Lucas into the space as someone in line behind them says something about the room being off limits. Eliott ignores them, following Lucas in and locking the door behind them. He reaches for the light switch, flicking it on to illuminate the space in a dim glow.

Lucille and Alex made good on their desire to turn the room into a home gym of sorts. The equipment is lacking but it’s been clearly split between Lucille’s space, filled with a yoga mat, a number of foam blocks, exercise bands and weights, and Alex’s space, which consists of a weight bench and a selection of heavier weights.

Eliott couldn’t care less. The only thing that matters is Lucas, standing at the center of the space, his chest rising and falling with his unsteady breaths, beautiful, and looking at Eliott like this is all he’s wanted too – the both of them – only them – together. Finally.

Eliott would swear the force of their impact as they reach for one another shakes the room. He wraps Lucas in his arms as they kiss, squeezing him tightly as he presses his tongue into Lucas’s mouth, matching the frenzy of his hands moving across Lucas’s body with that of his tongue. He slides a hand down until it reaches Lucas’s ass, squeezing one round cheek before drifting further, sliding down the seam of his pants until he can press fingers against the spot he knows the plug is buried deep inside Lucas’s body.

Lucas rips his mouth away with an animalistic sound when Eliott does so, throwing his head back as he grinds his body forward and into Eliott.

“God,” Eliott groans as he watches him. “You drive me crazy.”

“Eliott, Eliott,” Lucas gasps, pushing Eliott’s hands away from him until he’s able to reach for his own clothing. “Now, now,” he chants nonsensically. “Off. Get them off.” What he means is clear enough in the way he’s ridding himself of his own clothes, almost ripping the buttons of his shirt as frantically goes about removing it.

Eliott doesn’t needs to be directed further, quickly stripping himself of every item of clothing and watching as Lucas wobbles unsteadily as he kicks off his pants. Lucas’s erection stands proud, jutting hard and red from his body. It makes Eliott feel a bit better about the state of his own dick, throbbing so badly he knows they’re in no danger of being in the room long enough to be discovered. He feels ready to burst at the simple feel of Lucas’s eyes on him.

“On the bench.”

Lucas’s eyebrows rise in question before he looks beside him to where Alex’s weight bench rests. There’s a slight slant to Lucas’s smile as he glances back to Eliott. “You think you can tell me what to do?”

Oh god. If Lucas really thinks tonight is the night to continue being a sassy, teasing, little shit, he’s got another thing coming.

“Yes.” Eliott’s voice has dropped a couple octaves without conscious intent and he sees Lucas shiver at the sound. “Now. On your back.”

Lucas swallows heavily but does as told, sitting down on the bench first and releasing a surprised gasp. He’d done that at the dinner table too when they’d arrived back after using the bathroom. He’d gasped, just a little, as he’d sat down, squirming slightly until he’d apparently found a position – an angle – that had satisfied him, and he’d rejoined conversation. No one had noticed but Eliott, and the knowledge had filled his body with a growing heat that had settled into a smolder in his balls. That they had made it through the rest of the dinner without Eliott mounting him in the middle of the restaurant, directly on the table, had felt like an accomplishment in itself.

Lucas rolls down onto his back, blinking up at Eliott with wide and expectant eyes. Eliott approaches slowly, eyes tracking down Lucas’s body until he reaches his feet, pressed to the bench.

“Bend your knees. Back to your chest.”

He sees the way Lucas inhales – the way he pauses before obeying, no doubt torn between his constant need to challenge Eliott, and his more overwhelming desire to listen… to let Eliott give him what he wants. His eyes war until in the end, he does as told, bending his knees back to his chest and revealing the end of the plug tucked up inside him. Eliott inhales sharply at the sight, pressing a hand against the back of Lucas’s thigh to spread him further. Eliott rests a knee against the bench and moves a hand to the plug, pressing his thumb down onto the circular end. It’s blue – sparkly and blue.

“Eliott. Fuck.”

Eliott looks up to see Lucas’s eyes squeezed shut. He’s raised his arms above his head and holds tight to the other end of the bench.

“Feel good?” Eliott asks, pressing against the plug once more.

“God,” Lucas groans, hazy eyes blinking open to stare down at Eliott. “Yes.” He sucks in a breath before speaking once more, his voice demanding. “Now get it out of me and fuck me already.” It’s the sort of demand Eliott is happy to obey.

Eliott grips the edges of the plug and tugs gently, watching the way the flared end stretches Lucas’s hole. His muscles clench as though attempting to hold onto the silicone shape as it leaves his body, tightening again when he’s left empty. Eliott moves a thumb to his rim, slick with the remnants of lube.

“Eliott.” Lucas’s leg lashes out, catching Eliott in the shoulder.

Eliott stumbles back slightly on his heels, raising an unimpressed eyebrow as he looks up at Lucas. “Impatient?”

“This is supposed to be a quicky,” Lucas pants, doing his best to look annoyed though the sweaty flush to his face robs him of the composure he seeks. “Put it in me.”

“It?” Eliott grins, holding up the butt plug, shiny and gleaming in the bedroom light. “This? Or me?”

The colour in Lucas’s cheeks deepens to an even more impressive red, just as Eliott expected it to. “God. Just… you. Put that down. Get inside me.” Lucas bends his knees back towards his chest, spreading his legs while he does so and Eliott feels a measure of his self control slip. He swallows.

“Yeah. Yeah, I – lube?”

Lucas shakes his head. “I’m fine. I lubed up before. Just fuck me already.”

And Eliott would like to – and he plans to but… this is the first time they’ve done it like this and he’s not taking any chances. “Lucas. Tell me you brought lube.”

Lucas huffs, looking irritated but resigned. “Fine,” he groans. “Pants pocket.”

Eliott grins and rushes to find it, pulling out the small tube but pausing before slicking himself up. He looks back to Lucas in question. “Bare?”

Lucas nods. “Yeah. C’mon. Hurry.”

“But…” Eliott moves towards him, unsure. “It’ll be messy after. Not like we’re at home.”

Lucas shakes his head, looking suddenly just a little shy. “No, it won’t.” He directs his eyes to where Eliott had placed the plug, propped beside their clothing. The meaning behind his words sinks into Eliott’s slowly, and with heady awareness he looks back to his boyfriend spread before him on the bench. “Yeah,” Lucas whispers as though Eliott had spoken a question out loud. “Yeah. Now.”

Eliott’s hands shake as he coats his erection with lube. He wipes the remnants on his own thighs as he reaches for Lucas, sliding him until his ass reaches the end of the bench. Lucas allows the manhandling, holding the back of his own thighs to spread himself further.

“Baby,” Eliott whispers overwhelmed as he takes hold of his erection and leans down with his other hand steadying himself above Lucas’s head on the bench.

“Yeah,” Lucas groans as the blunt head of Eliott’s cock presses into him. “Fuck. Yeah.”

Eliott removes his hand from his erection as he sinks deeper, clasping it to the side of Lucas’s ribcage instead as he breathes through the incredible feeling of sinking into the tight heat of Lucas’s body. He’ll never get used to this feeling – the physical sensation of being inside Lucas without a barrier matched with the extraordinary knowledge of what it means to get to do so, the incredible trust Lucas shows in allowing him this privilege.

Lucas’s hands move to Eliott’s chest, scratching lightly as he moans. “Move. Fucking move.”

Eliott chuckles lightly. “I will. But baby?” He struggles to speak, his voice strained and words clipped.

“What?” Lucas gasps, squirming beneath him as though he could force Eliott deeper. “Fucking – what?!”

“Need you to co – come for me ok?”

Lucas releases a breath like a laugh. “Yeah. Was planning to.”

“No.” Eliott waits until Lucas’s eyes focus on him. “Fast. Need you to come fast because I’m gonna –”

Lucas nods, jerky and a little frantic now. “Yeah, I – I will. Please, Eli. Please.”

Eliott inhales a deep breath, searching for control as he pulls his cock from Lucas’s body. It shouldn’t be this good already – when they’ve barely even begun. Somehow, it always is. Somehow, every time Eliott is inside Lucas it feels as overwhelming – as fucking good – as it did the first time. He slams back in. They both grunt with the impact and Lucas throws his head back, his nails biting into Eliott’s shoulders.

Eliott doesn’t bother with a building rhythm, making it hard and fast from the very first stroke. It’s what they both need and there’s sense in pretending otherwise. Eliott presses his body down against Lucas and barely pulls out, pounding up into him with a force that would have Lucas’s body pushed up and off the bench if not for the way Eliott’s weight holds him down.

Lucas can barely squeeze a hand between them, but he manages, reaching to wrap it around the head of his own erection as he shudders with each thrust of Eliott’s cock inside him. When his eyes open and fix on Eliott, there’s a need in them Eliott knows just how to meet. He leans down, pressing lips against Lucas’s ear as he continues his relentless pace driving into Lucas’s body. His own orgasm is licking at his balls, just on the precipice of exploding, but he holds it back, determined to give Lucas this first. His voice.

“That’s it, baby,” Eliott encourages. “My boy. Beautiful boy. Come for me. Lu.” He presses a kiss to Lucas’s temple as he feels his control begin to slip. “Love you. Fuck. Love you.” Lucas makes a low sound, and his body seizes with his orgasm, coming apart as he shakes in Eliott’s arms.

Eliott’s body reads it as a signal, and he groans loudly, falling down onto Lucas as his orgasm washes through him. He drives his cock up into Lucas’s body in a series of rapid bursts as he rides out the wave, gasping for air as the pleasure releases its strangle hold on his lungs.

He lays against Lucas, face tilted down against Lucas’s chest as he feels the rise and fall of the chest beneath him. When he finds the strength to press himself up it’s the sight of Lucas, sweaty and red, and looking so incredibly well fucked and content, one would think they’d been at it all night versus the… well, Eliott doesn’t want to admit exactly how pathetic both of their stamina was in this case. Though there is a certain level of pride that comes with knowing Lucas was just as hopeless.

Lucas licks his lips as he stares up at Eliott. “You should put it back in.” His voice is low and husky with satisfaction. Eliott looks at him in confusion, glancing down to where he hasn’t yet parted their bodies and his cock remains, buried inside Lucas’s body. “The plug,” Lucas says, reading Eliott’s confusion. “You should put it back in.”

Eliott’s eyes snap shut and he groans as his cock jerks inside Lucas, making one last valiant effort to fill Lucas even further with evidence of him. “Oh god.”

Lucas squirms beneath him. “Eliott. Do it.”

Eliott nods. “Ok.” He inhales sharply as he pulls his spent cock from Lucas’s body. He reaches for the plug, pressing the tip against the dribble of come that’s already begun leaking from Lucas’s body, moving it until the tip becomes shiny with come. He stares mesmerized by the sight.

“Eliott. Fuck!” Lucas reaches to grab the plug from his hands and shoves it into his body without ceremony, inhaling around a gasp as he does so.

Eliott’s lower lip juts out in a pout. “I would have done it.”

Lucas snorts as he sits up on the bench. “Sure.” He grimaces as he stands, squirming slightly as he gets used to the feeling of it back inside him.

“Is it ok?” Eliott asks. “If it’s uncomfortable – if it hurts – we can take it out.”

“No,” Lucas answers immediately with a shake of his head as he goes about collecting his clothes. He reaches for a roll of paper towels at the side of the room, quickly cleaning the evidence of his own orgasm from his stomach, before he tosses the roll to Eliott. “Just feels a little strange.” He begins to put on his underwear and pants and Eliott moves to do the same, after a cursory cleaning of the bench and himself.

“It feels… wetter.”

Eliott freezes in the midst of buttoning back up his shirt. He looks back at Lucas to see he’s struggling to do the same. And it’s just… the reality of what they’ve done slams into Eliott a little like a second orgasm, the wave of euphoria so instant, he’s a bit lightheaded with it. “I came inside you.”

Lucas glances up, having just finished buttoning his shirt. “Yeah?”

Eliott swallows heavily, removing his hands from the buttons of his own shirt when Lucas steps forward to finish the job. “It’s – it’s like I still am. Inside you.”

Lucas doesn’t look up, studiously fastening the last of the buttons of Eliott’s shirt but he nods. “Feels that way too. It’s like – I can feel you.”

“Lucas,” Eliott breathes and reaching for Lucas’s face, tilting it up until he can press their lips together. They both sink into a soft kiss, enjoying the taste of one another’s mouths without the frenzy of their former need driving every movement. Lucas pushes him back after a moment with a soft smile.

“Come on. Probably near midnight by now.”

If Eliott’s honest, he’d forgotten about the celebration of the New Year entirely. He’s almost a little sad they didn’t time it so he was inside Lucas as the clock struck twelve – just as Lucas had originally suggested.

They attract a few curious glances as they leave the room, and at least a few giggles, but thankfully the hallway is filled with no one Eliott immediately recognizes.

“Where you two been?” Arthur asks as they re-enter the living room. Despite the question, his expression suggests he already knows. “You almost missed it,” he continues, voice raised to be heard over the din of rising noise in the room. “Minute to go!” He adds. Eliott smiles. He supposes, in the end, he and Lucas did time that quite well.

Lucas is suddenly tugging at his hand, pulling him towards the front door of the apartment.

“Lucas?” Eliott questions but follows. “What are you doing?”

Lucas looks back at him with a wide grin, his eyes lit up with a familiar blend of excitement and mischief. “Let’s go!”

Eliott doesn’t question him, rushing to find their jackets as they hurry from the apartment. Lucas breaks out into a run the moment they reach the hallway.

“Lucas!” Eliott calls out laughing, immediately giving chase. “What are you doing?!”

“There’s no time!” Lucas yells, bolting down the stairway and not stopping until they both burst into the cold night air.

It’s begun raining Eliott realizes with surprise. It’s a light drizzle but cold. It’s the sort of rain that hints at snow, though they’re unlikely to get it, and he suddenly desperately wants to see Lucas in the snow. Eliott can perfectly picture the snowflakes catching on his eyelashes.

“We should go north.”

Lucas spins around in the rain, his smile as bright as the moonlight casting a glow around them. “What?”

“Next Christmas. We should go north. I want snow.”

“Ok,” Lucas agrees with a laugh.

The distant sound of people chanting the countdown sounds from the building. Their friends or someone else celebrating, Eliott doesn’t know. It doesn’t matter. He reaches for Lucas just as Lucas does the same, and they pull one another close.

Eight! Seven!

A raindrop drips down Lucas’s face. The rain is growing heavier.

“We should get out of the rain,” Eliott suggests. “It’s cold.”

Five! Four!

“No,” Lucas disagrees, tilting his head back to catch more drops on his face. “I love it.”

The sound of the countdown drifts into background noise, irrelevant and unimportant when faced with the beauty of the boy in his arms.

“I knew I loved you then.”

Lucas looks back to him. “What?”

“That day in the rain,” Eliott continues. “When we drove back from my parents place. I knew I loved you then.”

Lucas’s mouth parts with his surprise, before a smile begins pulling at the corners of his mouth. “I loved you then too.”

Eliott stares at him in wonder. “You did?”

“Yeah,” Lucas admits with a slight laugh. “Was pretty annoyed about how goddamn much I did but, yeah – I loved you then.”

A wide smile stretches across Eliott’s face. “I love you now too.”

Lucas smiles, sweet and pleased. “Good. Now kiss me. You missed the countdown, you dork.”

The noise of New Year’s revelers suddenly filters back into Eliott’s consciousness, cheers and laughter mixed with the pop of fireworks being set off in all corners. He smiles.

“Maybe,” he admits. “We’ve always been better at making our own rules.”

Lucas makes a sound of amusement, looking charmed. “Gonna make our own countdown then?”

“Five, four –”

Lucas cuts him off, pressing their lips together in a hard, lingering kiss before he pulls back.

“So fucking cheesy I don’t know what I see in you.”

Eliott laughs into the next kiss, smiling too hard - far too fucking happy - to do more than press their lips together in an uncoordinated attempt at sharing his bliss with Lucas.

Lucas’s eyes are shining when Eliott separates them to look at him once more.

“Why’d you pull me out here?”

Lucas’s eyes move to a drop of rain trailing down Eliott’s cheek and he cups his hand there, his thumb brushing across the skin to capture the moisture. When his eyes look back to Eliott’s they’re filled with such warmth, it spreads through Eliott like a living flame, fierce and powerful, but comforting too. And he feels safe. Safe and so very loved.

“I only ever want to be with you.”

* * * *

END NOTES: I’ll add this and the Xmas snippet to ao3 shortly. Hope you liked it!!! Smooches to you all and here’s to saying good fucking riddance to 2020!!!

#skam france #elu #skamfr #mood tattoo fic #skam france fanfic #elu fanfic

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winnix85 · 3 years

Text

About Lewis Nixon’s mother Doris Ryer Nixon (Mrs Stanhope Nixon)

Source: mostly from old newspapers and digitized documents (I can’t guarantee the accuracy because they are fragmented information. I will just put it out there for someone may find some interesting useful backstories).

Doris Ryer was born on Oct 1 1894.

Her father Fletcher Ryer was a wealthy pioneer agriculturalist in California. He owned 6,600-acre (27 km2) ranch on Ryer Island, which was named in their honor. Because Doris was his only heiress, this ranch all went to Doris and then to Lewis Nixon III and ultimately to Grace Nixon. It's an agricultural (instead of livestocks) ranch. They grew crops, fruits and vegetables such as wheat, milo, safflower, pears, apples, cherries, grapes, tomatoes and asparagus. They produced such large amount of asparagus that Doris's mother, Mrs Ryer was nicknamed Asparagus Queen back then. This farm is still up and running today, managed by Clarence Hester from 1950s to 1990s (Nix' war buddy, the regimental S3, the one who wrestled with Dick in that photo), after him by his son Thomas Hester.

Doris was educated at Madame Payen's school in Paris from 1906 to 1914 (her entire high school).

Fletcher Ryer died an early death in 1911 (when Doris was about 16). Doris was close to her mother Mrs Blanche Ryer. Mrs Blanche Ryer, though very charming, married very very young. As a pretty, attractive, wealthy widow she determined to ensure that her daughter Doris have a brilliant "bellehood" as a girl. She took Doris to tour around the world. For example, in Sep1913, they traveled to Russia to present Doris at the court of Tsar Nicholas II (Very inconvenient timing, I have to say).

Doris was very sweet and attractive, with pretty black eyes. Her mother has always been most ambitious for her handsome daughter. She aimed to marry Doris to British aristocracy. Doris was presented at Buckingham Palace in 1914, wearing "a white satin princess gown embroidered in pearls and brilliants". Mrs Ryer has had her eye on several members of the British aristocracy for Doris, "but this cruel war, of course, smashed all of her well-laid plans to smithereens." She has to stoop so low to choose from American heirs.

Doris married Stanhope in Jan 1917 in New York at Church of Heavenly Rest. Their wedding was the social event of the year. Guests from coast to coast attended Nixon-Ryer wedding.

The bride's costume was soft white satin, made in combination with pearl embroidered net. She worn a lovely veil, the same that had been worn by her grandmother at her wedding, which was held in place with a band of diamonds. Her only other ornament was a necklace of diamonds with a large pear-shaped diamond pendant, the gift of the bridegroom.

Because the father of bride has died, she was given away by governor of New York Charles S. Whitman. Among those in attendance were the Brazilian ambassador and Argentine ambassador.

After the wedding the new couple went to Bermuda for honeymoon and then they lived at 52 East Fifty-second Street NYC (but later moved to 46 East 65 Street). In 1920 census, the household of the new couple included Stanhope the head of the house, Doris the wife, Lewis the one and half yr old old baby son, and a butler and 3 maids. They also have a suburb house at 167 Grange Ave, New Jersey (a 20-room estate, equiped with oil burning hot water heat, a 4-car garage, servants quarters, a boat house and a stable).

After marrying off her daughter to the Nixons, Mrs Blanche Ryer re-married in 1920 to Clifford Erskine-Bolst, a British conservative party politician. Mr Erskine-Bolst was elected to the British House of Commons in 1923 and again in 1931. To help him win the election, she made generous donations to King George's Hospital in England. She campained hard for him, making speeches and appealing to the constituency in the South Hackney district.

In 1920s, mama Doris bought a villa at Riviera France from the late Grand Duchess Anastasia of Russia. She lived there until her death in 1939 (This villa went to Nix. But he didn't like living there, too much hassle to open the house. He prefered to stay at the hotel Cap Estel. In 1950s he leased it to the Kennedys).

Doris and Stanhope seemed to be ok in 1920s. They attended social events together and traveled to England together. After Lew, they had a baby boy in 1922 (who tragically died in 3 months. Doris' mother went to New York to be with her.) Then they had Blanche Nixon in Aug 1924 (also born in NYC). While living in NYC, it seems little Lew was often spending time with his grandfather. Grandpa often took him to play at central park. For example, he took Lew to that model yacht regatta in central park when he was 7, and to skate in central park in Jan 1927 when lew was 8. In 1927, Doris took 2 yr old Blanche to France to visit her mother, but she didn't take Lew (maybe he was too naughty?). Anyway, Doris took Blanche to see grandma almost every year but Lew was only with them on one visit when he was 10 yr old.

Doris appeared to be lonely and out of place in the social circle of New York. Here is a social note about her in 1929: "A remarkable girl with her embroidery frame, actually engaged in a simple, normal occupation in a land where the atmosphere is charged with hang-overs, gambling-losses and mistrust. Nobody around here looks twice at a woman with mauve hair like Madame de Roch, or at a man with ear-rings and a bracelet on his ankle. But let a girl take out a half-finished centerpiece and commence embroidering and every lorgnette in the crowd is whipped into place."

At the end of 1920s, Doris seemed to be so unhappy to live on the east coast anymore, and she still regarded CA to be her real home. Stanhope sold their house in New Jersey and bought a new house in Montecito (also a mansion with a large stable and everything). In the 1930 census they were living at 180 Cold Spring Road, montecito, CA (Stanhope, Doris, Lewis (11yr), Blanche(5yr), and a French governess, and 2 servants). Lew attended boarding school at Cate School in Santa Barbara.

In social notes in 1930s, Stanhope and Doris mainly attended social events in CA (Santa Barbara and San Francisco), they also travel to New York to visit Mr and Mrs Lewis Nixon Sr.. The family traveled a lot, not only back and forth between east-west coasts, but also trips abroad. Doris always took Blanche with her, but Lew traveled on his own even when he was as young as 15 yr old. It appears that Doris and Stanhope's relationship has gone sour in 1930s. For example, in this 1934 social note: "The Stanhope Nixons will spend the Christmas holidays with his parents, Mr. and Mrs. Lewis Nixon. Mr Nixon will return to California on Jan 1, and Mrs Nixon will sail for Europe to spend six months on the Riviera with her mother." (almost as if Doris was running away from Stanhope and hide in France after briefly met him on Xmas day. Meanwhile 15 yr old Lew was at boarding school in CA).

In 1940 census, Doris and Blanche were still living at 180 Cold Spring Road, montecito, CA (with a housekeeper, a cook and a maid). Stanhope was no longer in this household. Maybe they have separated. Lew was also not in this household for he has left for college.

Among the CA high society, Doris was a all-around likable person: "Doris is always bubbling over with enthusiasm, her joy of living and her wit making her a welcome guest at any affair". She was very enthusiastic about opera (and art events in general, such as oriental dance). She attended the openning of Opera Season at San Francisco every year (usually with Blanche, and she will grab Lew when she can catch him). In 1940, she offered a prize for the "Best one act play" to stimulate interest in the Lobero Theater of Santa Barbara. She also went to see excellent plays in New York when it's in season and made some witty comments about the remarkable fashion trends in New York: "The only lavender and old lace that you see today is on the individual--the lavender in the tinted hair, and the lace on the dainty unmentionables."

After the Pearl Harbor Attack, Doris turned from a socialite to a civic leader. In 1942 she became the national vice-president of the American Women's Voluntary Services (AWVS) (and during ww2). The AWVS recruited and trained women to harvest crops, do nurse works, driving trucks and sell war bonds. She encouraged women to show more interest in international affairs. She also founded Guide Dogs for the Blind in 1943 (primarily to help the blinded veterans) and she made generous donations. In addition, she was the state commander of the California Cancer Society.

The AWVS duties kept her so busy, she has to relinquish her box at the opera house. She only had long enough time to have a toasted chicken sandwich for lunch. She put generous amount of English mustard on her sandwich. When her friends cautioned her not to put too much, she said:"If it puts me out, I will be a most excellent subject for the first aid class I am about to attend, and we will all find out how much we know!"

In the summer of 1945, Doris and Stanhope finally divorced (Stanhope even filed counter-suits seeking divorce on the grounds of desertion). They divorced in August, and Stanhope married "the Blond" in September 1945.

In June 1948, Doris died at home (944 Chestnut Str San Francisco CA). She had a stroke (and she always had hypertention). It seems her death was an unexpected sudden death because one month before she was still traveling around France with her daughter Blanche. Her will dictated to split her legacy equally between Blanche and Lew. She also left generous amount of money to employees such as housekeeper, secretary. For a former maid, she gave her $225 monthly for life.

#doris ryer nixon #Doris Ryer #Mrs Stanhope Nixon #She was a wonderful person #Generous kind and funny #lewis nixon #band of brothers

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write-orflight · 4 years

Text

Trouble: Chapter 2

*Gif not mine*

Pairings: HotchxReader

Prologue Chapter 1

Rating: M

Words: 3K

Warnings: Basic witch stuff, angst, mentions of child birth, mentions of near death

Request: OPEN/CLOSED

Summary: After Haley’s passing, Aaron Hotchner has lost the light in his eyes. He seems to find it it the most unlikely of places, an occult themed coffee shop ran by a witch.

A.N: Tarot, wicca, and crystal information is very secondhand if you see any inaccuracies, no you don’t. If you are a witch tho and want to help and be nice to me enter my ask box please, I’m annoying my friend too much.

Chapter 2: God, don't let me lose my mind

The deeper into autumn you got the more busy the shop was.

Halloween was a big money grabber for your shop. People loved to come to the shop around that time because your shop offered such ‘spooky’ feel, as the hipster who came in that morning would say. You hated that. Halloween was one of your favorite holidays simply because the veil between the natural and supernatural was so thin it was the best time for spells and charms but what you didn’t like was people and baby witches asking you about certain spells or how to commune with spirits just so they can do something “extra spooky” for whatever parties they were having for the season. Consultations were such easy money though so you’d never turn them away but your answer was always the same, that Spirits are not toys and that if they are going to invite them it better be serious and for the right intentions otherwise they might not leave.

Despite it being your favorite season, It didn’t make you less annoyed.

“If I have to make another Pumpkin flavored whatever and tell a sorority girl not to invoke a demon in her house, I’m going to scream.” Silena says to you as you enter the shop, Artemis in tow. Your sitter had to take an exam so you had to watch her for the first 2 hours of your shift. Artie, knowing the drill by now, tries to crawl up to the bar stool. You watch her for a second, smiling her little legs before taking pity on her and hoisting her up. She immediately pulls a coloring book and crayons out her bag, before working diligently in silence. You kiss her temple before walking behind the counter, tying your apron on.

“You had another consultation today?” You asked.

“Pfft, it wasn’t even that. She asked me while ordering her coffee, though I should’ve charged her for that dumbass question.” You look at her pointed, nodding your head towards your child who repeats everything. Silly winces “Sorry, but still. If this is how halloween is going to be, you’re probably going to have to do some balancing spells.”

You rolled your eyes. “Exactly what I need, more work.”

“What’s a dumbass?” Artie pipes up from her perch on the stool.

“Something you are not and shouldn’t repeat unless you want your mom mad at me.” Silly says, reaching across the counter to ruffle her hair.

The doorbell of the shop rings and the very man who’s occupied your mind these past couple of months steps in. Aaron Hotchner was one of your favorite customers despite not talking very much, he’d make small talk while you made his order which you found yourself doing slower than it would normally take you, just to get a little bit more of his time, he’d leave a tip in the jar and be on his way always leaving you with a small smile that you always immediately returned with a wide one. You tried to stop yourself from getting attached but here you were, an adult woman who had a crush on a customer who probably didn’t think about you when he left the shop.

You’d never seen him on a weekend though and frankly you didn’t know if you could handle seeing him like this again, he wore dark blue jeans, a black belt and a black t-shirt that fit a little too well over his broad chest you couldn’t help but staring at his arms that you’d never seen on display like this. You knew for a fact(well you hoped at least) he’d have no issue picking you up or pinning you down.

Now’s not the time, y/n… you think.

“Hey, you.” You greet, flirtatiously. You’ve been trying not to flirt with him, you really were but sometimes you couldn’t help it. It was your personality. “Didn’t think I’d see you in here. On a weekend, no less.”

“Yea, decided to stop for coffee before heading to my sister in law’s. Can I have my usual and an Americano for her?” He asks

“You got it.” You wink before starting to work. Silly gives you a knowing look which you brush off. Hotch takes a seat at the bar a few seats away from your daughter who looks up at him.

“Hi!” She says excitedly. “I’m Artie.”

“Hi Artie, I’m Aaron.” He looks around. “Are your parents around?” You look up. You’d forgotten to mention you had a kid to Hotch, which would probably explain his confusion of a random child sitting alone.

“My mama’s right there, silly.” She laughs. “Mama?” She says you look up automatically from the milk you’re frothing.

“Yes, bean?” You say.

“Can I have a brownie?”

“Well, I don’t know. Did you finish the addition tables I asked you to do?” She shakes her head at you. “Well, how about you do that then we’ll see if it’s brownie time, deal?” She nods, fast while pulling her math homework out of her bag. Hotch watches the interaction confused but with a slight smile.

“I didn’t know you had a kid.” He says

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Gus.” You say, calling him by the nickname you affectionately gave him your first meeting. “But yes I do, that’s Artemis.”

He nods, knowingly. “How old?”

“Well, I don’t know. How old are you, bean?” You say.

“I’m six!” She says, holding up 5 fingers, you grab her other hand to extend her other index finger too so the number was actually 6.

“Really? You’re not 16 yet?” Silly asks, ruffling her hair. “I thought you were driving us home tonight?”

Artie shakes her head. “Mama says I can’t drive yet.”

“Between you and me kid, your mama shouldn’t be on the road either.” You swat at her.

Aaron gives a small chuckle at the display in front of him. But he has to ask the burning question in his head. “Her dad—“

“Not in the picture.” You cut off. “Like not even in the same gallery.”

Hotch nods understandably as you put his drinks in the carrier for him. He looks at you confused when you add a 3rd cup.

“Hot chocolate.” You say. “For your son. I imagine that’s where you’re going. To pick him up from your sister?”

“How did you know I had a son?” He asks.

“Oh, I just used one of my witchy spells to find out information on you.” You say jokingly, but he looks at you with mild horror. “I’m kidding, Spencer told me.”

He nods. “Thank you, y/n.”

“No problem, come back to see me?”

“Always.” He says, offering you a small secret smile before leaving. You can’t help the dreamy look you give his retreating back.

“Are you coming back to earth anytime soon?” Sil says, shaking her head. “You got it bad, kid.”

“Pfft, no I don’t.” You say turning to clean up the mess you just made.

“I don’t understand why you just won’t ask him out.”

“He’s healing, Sil.” You say, shrugging. “And I don’t want to push him into something he’s obviously not ready for.”

Not to mention you also didn’t think you were ready for it.

———————————————

On Halloween day, you get a visit from one of your favorite customers

“Pennywise!” You say to chipper blonde women who strolled in she was wearing a orange and black dress with little jack-O-lantern earrings that you had gotten her the beginning of month. You move your hair back to show her the Ouija board pointer earrings she had gotten you in return. Penelope Garcia couldn’t just accept a gift without giving one in return.

“Hey Y/N, how are you this ole hallow’s eve?”

“It’s Halloween and a full moon tonight.” You say excitedly. “It’s like witch Christmas.”

“I don’t know about that but I am happy for you. Can I have a pumpkin spice latte and since I’m such a good friend an Americano with extra sugar for the good doctor?” She asks.

“You got it, Pen.” You say before starting her order. “Heading into work now?”

“Sure am! Hopefully there’s not a gruesome murder so I’ll be able to spend my Halloween having fun.” Penelope says. “You got any plans?”

“Other than taking Artie Trick or Treating and charging some crystals in the full moon, no.”

“Come on, no wild parties? no hexing beautiful men into falling in love with you?” Penny asks. You laugh loudly, shaking your head. “Man, maybe the life of a witch was more exciting in my head.”

“Yea, you did.” You laugh. “I’m basically just a cool rock collector plus love spells, so not my thing.��

“So there’s such a thing?”

“Yea there’s love spells. I don’t believe in using them. I think love itself is it’s own powerful being. It shouldn’t be manipulated with, if someone was meant to love me they would.”

“Speaking of love and love spells…” Silena pipes up from the display case she was loading pastries she just made into. “Penelope, how’s your boss?” You glare over at her.

“Hotch?” Penny asks looking between the two of you before smirking at you. “Why do you want to know?”

“I don’t.” You say at the same time as Silena says. “She has a Texas sized crush on him.”

Garcia practically squeals at that. “Let me set you up please.”

“No, Penny.” You say, immediately

“Why not?” Her and Silly say at the same time.

“Because… I don’t know didn’t his wife just die months ago, it’s hardly appropriate for me to try swoop in.”

“Ex-wife. They were already long divorced before she died.” Penelope adds

“Still! It’s not appropriate.” You say.

“So what? You’re just going to keep making him free coffee until he realizes you're into him?”

“Yup” you say adding the 3rd cup to Garcia’s carrier. “Give that to Grumpy for me please.” Garcia opens her mouth to say something but you just hold up your hand cutting her off

“Fine.” She says, grabbing the carrier. “Only because I have to go to work though, this conversation isn’t over.”

“Yes it is.” You call after her.

——————————————

You were back in the shop. Artie was tuckered out after a long night of trick or treating and crashing from her sugar high so you decided to charge some of your crystals and do some balancing spells, knowing for a fact a lot of teenagers did stupid shit to upset the balance.

As you were lighting the candles and incense, you heard a knock at the door. You were long closed so who could possibly need something right now? You look out the window and Aaron is standing there. You’re confused but you let him in anyway.

“Hey Grumpy, what’re you doing here?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t know you were closed, I guess I’ve never been here at night. I’ll go. I'm sorry for bothering you.” He says turns to go but you grab his arm to stop him.

“Gus… it’s almost midnight, no business is open. You’re here because there’s obviously something upsetting you so I’m not just going to let you leave.” You all but push him into barstool. “Now like I said it’s almost midnight so there is something important I need to do so if you’ll sit tight for like 2 minutes, I’ll make us coffee.”

Hotch obliges, sitting silently watching you as you lit some candles on the altar you kept in the shop. You placed the honey cake you had made earlier in the day on the altar before whispering.

“Thank you to the patron, Artemis, Great goddess of Moon and Magic. Mistress of deer and owl. Be thou my guide and Inspiration. Teach me Thy mysteries and lead me in thy ways.” You stand and turn back to Hotch who is watching you intensely. “Sorry about that, midnight is her favorite time. Coffee?” You ask, He nods as you move behind the counter.

“Can I ask what it is you just did?” Hotch ask.

“That?” He nods. “It’s a full moon so since Artemis is my patron goddess, it’s best to leave a sacrifice to stay in her favor.” You shrug. He looks at you like you're crazy but you're used to that look. “Don’t look at me like that, it’s no different then some catholic practices. In fact, Christians often stole from pagan practices, and only one is just considered ‘taboo’ now.”

“Is that why you named your child Artemis, because she’s your Patron?” He asks.

“Actually, Artemis is my Patron because of Artie.” You say, he looks at you as if asking you to continue. “I wasn’t always like this.” You say gesturing to yourself and the shop. “My parents are pastors and for a long time I was this faith devout christian girl. But I got pregnant out of wedlock, my parents disowned me and I was looking for something to turn to. I met Silena and she introduced me to Wicca, and said whoever my Patron was through meditation and study, They’ll reveal themselves to me. So I went months, meditating daily, and still nothing was working. Then I went into labor, and everything was going wrong. I thought, this was my punishment from god for not only getting pregnant without marriage but turning to witchcraft. I had to have an emergency C-section. And when I was on the operating table, I almost died, Artie almost died. I started to see these images of deer and boar running through the forest. And finally when I came back to, and I could hear my baby crying, the first thing I saw when my eyes opened was the full moon out the window.” You sigh, sliding a cup to Hotch before moving from behind the counter to take a seat next to him. “That’s when I realized the goddess had saved me and my child. And while Artemis prefers virgin patronage, and that ship had long sailed past back then. I figured naming my child after her was the next best thing.”

“That’s a beautiful story, Y/N.” He says, looking at you sincerely.

“Thank you, and since you’re not running for the hills, why don’t you tell me why you really knocked at my door at midnight.”

“It’s just…” He starts, clearing his throat. “Tonight was the first ‘major’ holiday without Haley. And I tried to take Jack’s mind off it, make it fun but it was like this looming weight above us. That it wasn’t the same without her and that it never would be. And I was upset and just wanted to take a walk but I guess my feet carried me here.” He shrugged.

“Well I’m glad you’re here grumpy. And you’re healing you need to give yourself time--”

“I don’t have time!” He snaps. You flinch back a bit, having never heard his raised voice. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. It’s just-I don’t have time to heal. I have to be there for Jack.”

“Who’s there for you, Aaron?” You ask. He looks at you confused. You hardly ever call him by his name. It's either grumpy or gus or a combination of the two. Never by his actual name, he hated how much he liked how it sounded coming from your lips. “Do you know what a rock tumbler is?” you ask, he shakes his head confused where you’re going with this. You run behind the counter to retrieve the box you had dug through the very first night you met.

“Well a rock tumbler is a device you put rocks into. Rocks that have eroded, rocks that have trekked the earth, rocks that have been to hell and back. And what you do is you put them in this device with a little bit of water and you wait. Days, weeks, months all the while this device is just spinning, you don’t see what’s happening on the inside but after a while, when the time is right, you get these beautiful lustrous stones.” You say, showing him the box. “Healing is the same way, others don’t see you working. But in the end, they’ll see the result. And you’ll feel the result too. But if you don’t take that step you don’t end up with gems like these. You just end up with an eroded dingy rock.” You look up at Hotch and he’s tearing up slightly. Your heart melts. “Do you want a hug?” you say.

“You don’t have to--”

You cut him off. “No one on earth gives hugs because they have to. I want to give you a hug if you want one. So do you want a hug?”

He nods, fastly. So you stand, he follows suit and allows you to pull him down into a full embrace. Your arms around his neck and shoulders, he envelopes you fully into his torso, arms tight around your waist. You sigh, content. Before shaking yourself out of it. This wasn’t about you. No matter how right it felt.

After a minute or so you break apart. You look him in the eyes and he’s staring back at you in what feels like admiration. You clear your throat. “Can I give you something?” you ask.

“Is it another crystal?” He asked back.

“Yes, it is.” You rummage through the box before pulling out the one you needed. “This is Aragonite, it’s good for healing old wounds and building emotional strength. Now I can gift you this but you have to activate it yourself. Even if you don’t believe it, I feel like it’s good words to hear yourself say anyway.” You grab his left hand, sliding the crystal into it. He looks into your eyes. “Now say, I release past wounds and embrace resilience.”

Hotch sighs. “I release past wounds and embrace resilience.” He then slides the stone in his pocket. Before grabbing your hand again. “Thank you, Y/N”

“Anytime, Grumpy.” You say.

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rosy-wooyoung · 5 years

Text

He needs someone | Park Seonghwa

Words count: 3.3k whoops Pairing: kindergarten teacher! reader x police officer!, single dad! Seonghwa Genre: F L U F F and a squint of angst once A/N: I tried my best, it’s a concept I had in mind for a while and I’m glad I managed to write something :’) I’m sorry in advance if you notice mistakes, English isn’t my first language but at least I tried, right? The gif isn’t mine as usual, all the credits go to the talented creator :)

The first day of the week was coming to an end and you were happy. You loved your job, really, it was a real pleasure to get up in the morning and take care of adorable children your students. They were nice, polite, you had to raise your voice from time to time for the order to come back, but it was rare. However, the past few days were more of a chore than a pleasure, because you were worried about one student in particular. His name was Haneul. He was a 5-year old boy full of energy, kindness and the politest of all your students. Already at his age, he was altruistic, always ready to play with others or help you tidy up things that weren't necessarily his. Despite his good attitude and politeness, you noticed that he was missing something, but you couldn't put your finger on it. Until one afternoon, when you left school, it struck you.

He was one of the few students who didn't have two parents. Yes, some had two mothers or two dads, or their divorced parents came to pick them up each in turn, but for Haneul, everything seemed different. It was always his father who came to pick him up or his grandmother, but it was very rare. You were beginning to question yourself, wondering if Haneul had a mother or other relative that took care of him except for his father. Perhaps his mother was seriously ill, or even dead. You had noticed several times where Haneul was in a bad mood, especially when you asked your students what they had done during the weekend. It was a ritual that you did every Monday morning and many children were talking about their parents. Haneul was always silent during these kinds of moments. Unable to give special treatment, you also asked him questions, especially about the toy cars he loved to take to school, and you tried to get him to talk about his father most of the time. You didn't want to make him uncomfortable or cry in front of the other students, so you carefully avoided the mom's subject.

You were in the school playground, chatting with another teacher to look after the children who were waiting for their parents. It was rush hour, everyone was out of work and the traffic was very heavy, which caused most of the delays for parents. When you noticed Haneul’s father, you excused yourself to your colleague, took the boy’s little hand and walked towards the man. You couldn't lie, his father is a charismatic man. Whenever he entered the yard, single mothers - and sometimes even some married women, in the presence of their husbands - stared at him. He exuded a certain class and a form of serenity which reassured everyone. Maybe it was his uniform that provided that kind of emotion. Yes, his father was a policeman. You have seen him repeatedly patrolling the city or your neighbourhood, even sometimes waiting for his son in his car. At first glance, his life seemed to be devoted to bringing order within the city, but really, it revolved solely around his son. His serious and distant mask fell every time his son ran into his arms or showed him a craft he did in class. He was also one of the few parents who wrote you a kind note for Christmas to thank you for your hard work and it touched you.

When you reached Haneul's father with him, a veil of concern crossed the eyes of the man standing in front of you. He seemed worried and had walked much less assuredly than the other times that you had seen him. "Good evening ma'am. Thanks for calling me. Has Haneul not behaved well?" He questioned as his son, oblivious to the situation, jumped into his arms, kissing his dad’s cheek. "No, your son is a remarkable little boy, full of goodwill and very polite, but there is a delicate subject that concerns him which I would like to talk with you if you would like." The policeman looked at his son and put him on the ground before nodding. "Haneul," he said, crouching down next to his son, "will you play with your friends for a while? I need to speak with your teacher for a few minutes, it won't be long, okay?" Haneul nodded without hesitation and left to replay with his friends, running towards them. "I'm listening," his voice was hesitant, but he tried to keep a neutral expression. "First, I want to tell you that you don't have to answer or take into account what I'm going to tell you, and this is by no means a psychological diagnosis, just an observation me, his teacher." He nodded, a sign for you to continue. "Well, I have a tradition every Monday morning of asking certain students to tell us about their weekend, it's mainly to encourage them to speak in front of others, but the more this discussion advances in the morning, the more I see your child withdrawing into himself, sometimes he's even on the verge of tears when one of his classmates mentions their mother."

The policeman didn't seem shocked by your statement, but your words didn't leave him indifferent. He said nothing but looked behind you, carefully avoiding your gaze. "I don't want to interfere in your private life, but I have always wondered if Haneul had another parental figure beside you because he looks like he wants one…" He sighed as your voice trailed. "But aside from this little detail, Haneul is a golden child, he's always ready to stop arguments or help me tidy up, his education is remarkable, it's also something I wanted to tell you." You were trying to save yourself from embarrassment, given his lack of reaction, and his smile returned when you complimented his son, but it was not as warm as usual. You knew that you had touched a sensitive point and you had decided to cut short the discussion to not make it more uncomfortable. He already seemed pained enough like that, so you motioned for Haneul to come back to his father. "I'm sorry officer, but I have a few more things to do in class, I wish you a very good evening." You smiled at him and he greeted you with a brief whim and an almost inaudible "thank you".

By putting away the last chairs, you deeply regretted your words. It was none of your business, but Haneul's situation gave your heart a twinge. You were thinking of a softer way to approach the subject again, but you could not find any other solution. You didn't sleep much that night, bitterly regretting the discussion.

What did you have to pry in things that were none of your business?

The two days following this discussion were painful because the policeman did not come to pick up Haneul, it was his grandmother. You were almost ready to ask Haneul for his address to go and apologize to his father. Thursday afternoon was finally the day he decided to reappear. When you saw him again, you rushed inside, leaving your colleague alone in the school playground. You pretended to put the tables and chairs back in their place if he looked through the windows. Wanting to give him enough time to leave, you filled the kettle with water and heated it on its base. "Can I speak to you?" A throat clears which startled you, almost making you drop the kettle. You turned around and found the policeman in the doorway. He was not wearing his uniform, but his aura of authority and confidence was still there. "Yes, but I-" "No, don't apologize." "Please, let me. I wanted to apologize, I got involved in things that were none of my business. I was so mad at myself that I haven't slept well for the last few days." "Yes, Haneul told me you weren't as energetic as usual, but don't worry about me. Your words had the effect of a cold shower and I believe it was necessary." He said with a soft smile, scratching the back of his neck. You nodded, gesturing him to take your chair as you sat on one of the tables, keeping a reasonable distance. "I thought my mother and I would be enough for Haneul's education. His... well, his mother left us when he was two years old. When we learnt that we were expecting a baby, we made an agreement together. I promised to reduce my time at work to take care of her and Haneul. However, nothing went according to plan and I ended up working almost twice more. I was terrified that I would not have enough money to support them and because I didn't keep my promise to my girlfriend, she left. I thought she was going to get away with the situation because she was very independent, but it was only after she left me that I realized that she needed me." He paused, allowing you to let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. "After your statement, I said to myself that I should try to get her back, even if the two of us wasn't going to work, we could at least try for Haneul, but it's too late. I saw her in the store where I regularly grocery shop. She was with another man and she seemed much happier and more radiant than when she was with me. I simply greeted her, but I couldn't see myself begging her to come back in front of her new boyfriend. I know I fucked up and I regret it now, but I don't know what else I can do." You got up and turned off the kettle, pouring the hot liquid into two cups. You handed him one and leaned against your desk. "I understand that you are in a difficult situation, but now it's too late to get your ex back, that is clear. She moved on but it’s human, you also did it by busying yourself at work, according to what you're telling me. She is certainly mad at you and that is normal, I also understand her reaction, but you must start looking elsewhere, or even around you." "I talked to Haneul about it, and he admitted he missed having a mom. But you know, there aren't many people out there who want to go out with a policeman, so if he also has a child, it's complicated. And I assure you, I tried, I really tried, but they all left as soon as I mentioned my son. Selfishly, I prefer that Haneul does not have a mother rather than having one who does not love him. I need someone who loves me and him." "I understand, he is a part of you. You know, it was just a statement, I never ordered you to look for someone, you must not misunderstand my words. If you feel that you and your mother are enough for the education of your son, then you must follow your gut. But I remain in my position that your little one needs a maternal figure. Otherwise, growing up, he will no longer distinguish his mother from his grandmother, since it will be the same figure, you see?" The discussion was coming to an end, but the officer didn't seem to ready to leave. His gaze was lost into the void and he sipped on his tea. Suddenly, he regained his senses, gulped the remaining of his cup and put it in the sink. He smiled at you and held out his hand for you to squeeze. "My name is Park Seonghwa. Officer Park Seonghwa. And thank you for being so kind to my son, he loves you and it's nice not having to fight to get him out of bed." You blushed at his compliments and squeezed his hand, his grip not as hard as you thought it was going to be. It was firm but had nothing dominant or aggressive. "Y/L/N Y/N, I'm glad your son is having fun coming here, I'm trying to do everything for it. " "And... thank you for listening to me, because you really didn't have to. I think I needed to tell someone neutral. You know, parents are never very objective,” he said, not letting go of your hand. "I'm glad to have helped you, officer... And again, sorry for my mistake, I was just worried about Haneul." "This is a closed matter now, Y/N, don't worry about it anymore. Have a safe trip back home. Good night." You smiled at him and saw him leave with Haneul. Through the window, he greeted you with a wave which you answered with a slight smile.

The weekend had finally arrived, and you wanted to go for a walk in the park. The heat of May allowed you to go out only wearing a big sweater above your casual dress, a light scarf protecting your throat from the light wind. You sat on a bench and took out a book, adjusting your sunglasses and crossing your legs. Later, a group of eight adults with a child settled under the weeping willow, located a few meters from you, in the grass. Your vision wasn't the best, you squinted because you seemed to recognize Haneul. He also seemed to have recognized you because he pulled the sleeve of a man you immediately acknowledged: Seonghwa. He looked up and smiled at you, his son pulling him in your direction. You put your book down and watched, amused by the situation. The rest of the group was looking either at the father or you, which made you bright red. Seonghwa crouched and whispered something in his son's ear. A smile lit up his face and sprinted towards your bench.

"Hi Haneul, how are you?" "Hello, Teacher! I’m okay!! You are alone?" He asked, tilting his small head. "Yes, I'm enjoying the nice weather." "Daddy would like to know if you want to come and join us..." You smiled at the kid and looked up at Seonghwa. He had a tender smile on his face and Haneul pulled you from your seat by grabbing your hand. You laughed and gathered your things, Haneul running to his father.

Seonghwa greeted you and introduced you to the rest of the group, his colleagues. You weren't sure how to behave since they represented the law, but they were all lovely with you. Some asked you questions about your job and Haneul, including a man named Hongjoong, who you learnt was Haneul's godfather, who seemed fascinated by your work. Another colleague, Mingi, was very interested since his sister also worked as a teacher, but in their hometown. The rest of the day went by without problems, the group of police officers quickly put you at ease, abandoning the formalities. Clouds had formed and began to hide the sun, abruptly ending this wonderful day. When Wooyoung felt the first drops of water fall on his skin, you all hurried to pack up and take refuge in their cars. Haneul hadn't followed his father, he had run with Yunho in his car. You were soaking from head to toe, your sweater nowhere to be seen, your dress sticking to your body. You just hoped that your underwear was not showing through the wet material.

"You're beautiful." Seonghwa's deep voice rang out in the car and made you faced him. His hair fell in front of his face, droplets soaking his white t-shirt. Unlike his uniform, it gave you a good overview of his shoulders and his muscular torso. His eyes never left you, something had changed in them. You smiled, a bit embarrassed, watching the rain trickle down the windows, suddenly being very hot. A hand grabbed your chin and your face was now very close to Seonghwa's, his eyes lost in yours. Your heart was pounding, you were sure he could hear it, but you couldn't look beyond his beautiful eyes. Not when you had such a handsome officer in front of you. "May I?" He whispered, almost out of breath, his gaze moving back and forth between your eyes and your mouth. His expression was very intense, you could only accept. When his lips met yours, the tension in your shoulders disappeared and fireworks exploded in your stomach. You responded to the kiss immediately, surprising yourself, but it was too hard to resist. His lips were as soft as if you were kissing a chocolate coulis. The kiss was warm, intense, but filled with tenderness.

To your great disappointment, this tender exchange was shortened by someone knocking on Seonghwa's window. Yunho was there, an amused smile on his lips. You stopped the kiss, quickly pulling you away from Seonghwa's arms. You hadn't even realized in the kiss that he had embraced you, pressing you even more against him. You tried to catch your breath and Seonghwa lowered the window, embarrassed to have been surprised by his colleague. "Am I disturbing something?" Yunho said, refraining from laughing. "What do you want?" Seonghwa dryly replied, not amused by the situation at all. "I'm coming to bring your son back to you, I think he was in the wrong car. But to see what you were doing; I think I'll bring it back to me." "Shut up and bring him up to the back,” Seonghwa ordered. You had found back the police officer, strict and distant, as when he came to pick up his son.

When Yunho had fastened Haneul’s seatbelt and closed the car door, Seonghwa started the car and brought you home without saying a word, just a few glances exchanged on the way as well as apologetic smiles. When your resident building came into your range of vision, disappointment stung your heart. "Thanks for driving me back." You muttered, unsure how to behave with the little one in the back. "No problem." Seonghwa smiled, glancing into the rear-view mirror. Haneul was soundly sleeping and the policeman seized this chance to quickly connect your lips. "Ha! I knew it! Daddy loves Teacher Y/N!" Haneul's frail voice rang out in the car, scaring you both. You hurried out of the car and Seonghwa mouthed you to call him later. You entered the hall without turning around and you heard the car leave. "Daddy, do you like Teacher Y/N?" "Yes, kind of. " "Does that mean she's going to be my mom?" "Only if you want it." Seonghwa watched his son's reaction as the car came to a red light. The child had a neutral face, but he suddenly smiled with all his teeth and looked at his father in the rear-view mirror. "Yes!"

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