#drinking wine this evening and working on oc kiss

[btsgotjams27]

things you didn't say | jjk

summary: with the recent interactions with jungkook, you try to downplay your feelings, but your friends encourage you to acknowledge your past and move forward.

✨ title: things you didn't say | tydk couple ✨ pairing: jungkook x f!reader ✨ genre/au: angst | ex-best friends to friends/lovers(?) ✨ rating: R/18+ | ✨ word count: 7.3k | ✨ playlist ✨ warnings: minor language, lana threatens oc with a fork, drinking, game of truth or dare, confessions, kissing ✨ a/n: hii--i'm sorry i've been a bit MIA in regards to writing. it's been such a struggle to get anything written. i've been thinking a lot about these two and i hope this last part gives us all some kind of resolution. enjoy. (and there's a small nod to something that'll happen in a different jk wip i'm working on hehe). and if you haven't read part one or two, please do so before reading this part.

✨ read part one | read part two ✨

The clock is nearly midnight, and you’re not ready for the magic to disappear.

All night, you’ve kept your heart at bay, questioning every move and word being spoken. Only you can see it, but a dark cloud is looming over you. Doubts linger like a predator waiting to pounce and take its prey. You want to avoid getting it wrong or being let down.

And your heart is the ultimate betrayer, but it doesn’t lie.

You’re caught up in sentimental memories from the past. His nose scrunches and boisterous cackles are reminiscent of the boy you remember. Hanging out and reliving past adventures felt like no time had passed, yet life updates from then to now made him feel like a stranger.

Giggles and claps, along with snorts and dribbles of wine, glide down the side of your mouth. The third wine bottle is on its way to being destroyed by the pair of you.

He’s careful to avoid the subject of Josie, for which you are grateful. If you could be honest, you would ask him why he was still with her and what he saw in her. But it’s not your place, nor are you in the position to pry.

Your eyes fall on the plants sitting on the corner shelf in the dining area—an array of pothos, snake, and rubber plants. They’re your typical plants, but it’s the planters that they’re sitting in that make you smile. The planters have stubby arms and legs with smiley faces.

Jungkook follows your gaze. “What are we looking at?”

You point to the planters. “Those little guys. They’re cute.”

“Thanks,” Jungkook says. “I made them.”

“The planters or the plants?”

He swirls his wine glass, letting out a small laugh. “The planters.”

“You made those planters?” You stand, walking over to them. 

“When I get bored, I try new creative outlets and ceramics was one of them,” he says, taking a sip of wine.

“Wow, you have a knack for things like that, huh?” You pick up a planter, inspecting it before setting it down. “You could open up your own Etsy shop or something. People would buy these in a heartbeat.”

“Eh, I suppose. I just like doing things with my hands. It makes me feel useful.” Jungkook shrugs. He watches your every move as you continue eyeing the different ceramic pieces he’s made: vases, candleholders, etc. “Do you think people would buy the things I make?”

You lift a coiled vase, turning to him. “Are you kidding me? People would eat this shit up. Once your pieces sell like hotcakes on Etsy, Urban Outfitters will slide in your DMs.” You’re not surprised Jungkook easily excelled at something like ceramics. He’s always been talented at anything he picks up.

“And you were good at anything creative when we were in school—art class, wood shop. I would’ve failed wood shop if you didn’t help me finish my project.”

“Yeah, your birdhouse was fucking terrible.”

You scoff, walking toward him, playfully shoving his shoulder. “It wasn’t that bad.”

He deadpans. “Even birds would avoid your birdhouse.”

“Shut up! I tried my hardest.”

“Didn’t try hard enough,” he teases, his eyes crinkling at the corners with a grin on his face.

The pair of you continue to bicker about nothing, but the constant buzzes of notifications from his phone are hard to ignore. You’d catch Jungkook peering, tapping his fingers, debating if he should reply.

You sip from the bottle of dessert wine, you find it sweet and refreshing on your lips. “If you need to get that, then don’t let me stop you.” 

Jungkook lifts his phone. “Nah—it’s nothing,” he protests before his phone vibrates in his hand. He glances at the illuminated screen and he finally picks it up. “Sorry, let me answer this. I’ll be right back.”

He hurries out of the kitchen and into the darkened living room. You can only hear Jungkook’s stern, hushed voice, but you can’t make anything out. His change in demeanor hints at one person, and it’s Josie. Which meant it was your cue to leave. You’ve overstayed your welcome.

You raise your wine glass, gulping the golden honey peach Moscato. Thank goodness they’re easy to guzzle. A drop runs down the side of your mouth, and you swipe it away as Jungkook walks back in.

“I’m so sorry about that.”

“Hmm? Oh—don’t worry about it. I, um, I’ve probably overstayed my welcome, so I should get going.”

“What? No, stay. We have to finish our Moscato.”

A nervous chuckle leaves your lips as you contemplate his proposition. There’s a tug in your heart, wanting to stay into the early hours of the morning, but there’s your brain telling you to take it slow and go home.

“I wish I could stay, but I should head home. I have a load of laundry to fold and sadly, it won’t fold itself.” You stand up from the bar chair, feeling a bit wobbly on your feet. Jungkook rushes to your side, gripping your waist, but you catch yourself by holding onto the counter.

“You can’t hold your liquor?” He asks with a wide grin, pulling you upright.

Clearing your throat and flattening down your jeans, you spit out, “Ha-ha. I can hold my liquor just fine. I merely tripped.”

Jungkook chuckles. “You’re a terrible liar—see, I still remember that.”

You gasp sharply, with a hand over your chest. “I’m surprised that big ‘ol head of yours can remember anything. I thought it was only filled with games and girls.” Sticking out your tongue, you conk him on the head with your knuckles.

“Ow.” He rubs the spot as if you had knocked him with a bat.

Taking out your phone from your pocket, you pull up Uber.

“Let me take you home, at least.”

You give him a look, slowly blinking your eyes at the devilishly handsome friend. Could you even call him a friend again? Maybe it was too early for that.

“Did you forget that we both had too much to drink tonight? So, you shouldn’t be driving me. It’s fine, Kook. I’ll get an Uber.”

Jungkook sighs, knowing he can’t convince you otherwise. “Fine. I’ll wait with you outside until it gets here.”

“Well, it’s not like I can stop you.”

The pair of you are sitting on his front steps, watching cars drive by and cats strolling through the neighborhood. His place is in a newer part of town, one that was built while you were away. It’s familiar and odd, just like you and Jungkook. As much as you want to forget the past and move on, there’s a part of you holding onto what the two of you had. Would you ever become best friends again? Would you even consider letting him be a part of your life? Those were questions for another time, but it felt like you had your best friend back, even if it was just for tonight.

As the alcohol in your system dwindles, the brain fog becomes clearer, along with your hearing. A nudge from Jungkook makes you come back to reality. “Hmm?”

“I asked, ‘Do you still go stargazing’?” He chuckles, shaking his head.

“Yeah, I do, but the spot I went to during college isn’t as good as the one we used to go to.”

Jungkook hums, avoiding your gaze as he picks up a small pebble from the ground. “We should go there sometime,” he mumbles under his breath. He continues toying with the pebble before throwing it into the bushes.

You’re trying to suppress a smile and swat away the butterflies growing in your stomach. It’s dumb to think things could go back to the way they were. It’s unrealistic and you don’t want to get hurt again.

Turning toward him, you want to set the record straight. “Let’s um, take this whole friendship thing slow, Kook. Dinner was great. It was nice talking to you again, but you do understand where I’m coming from, right?”

He nibbles on his bottom lip and nods. “I’ll follow your lead.”

You check your phone again. The Uber is two minutes away. As you click it off, you turn and see Jungkook staring. Something is brewing behind those starry eyes. With a raised brow, you ask, “What?”

“Can I call or text you sometime?”

“Just don’t, uh, go texting me all day and night. Your girlfriend might get jealous. Might even put a bounty on my head,” you tease, reaching to pull his black CK cap over his face.

He takes his cap off, carding his hand through his hair before placing it back on his head. As you’re immersed in your phone and looking up at the street for your Uber, Jungkook silently observes you like has for the past few years. Some might say it’s a red flag, but how else was he supposed to know if you were happy? That’s all he’s ever wanted—for you to be happy, loved, and have all your dreams come true, even though he wasn’t there to cheer you on. For seven years, he has been tormented by what he did, and he didn't want to jeopardize any possibility of any kind of relationship with you. It doesn’t even have to be like before, just as long as the two of you are on speaking terms. He could live with that.

A dark sedan pulls up alongside the pair of you. You grab the door handle, pause for a moment, then turn back to Jungkook. “We’ll talk soon?” He raises both eyebrows and hums softly, giving a thin smile. “Bye, Kook.”

Two weeks passed, and there was no text or call from Jungkook. Plenty of thoughts ran through your mind, the number one being Josie had found out about your little dinner and locked him in a basement, cutting off all contact with the outside world—especially if it was with you.

But you’re a big girl. Why should you be waiting around to hear from him, anyway?

If there’s one thing you hate about adulting, it’s cooking. You missed the days when you were in your angsty teen phase, headphones in, and hating the world, then your parents would yell ‘Dinner’s ready’. And as much as you missed home-cooked meals, you loved that your parents were off gallivanting around the world, living their retirement dreams. One day that’ll be you, living off your retirement and eating out 24/7, but for now, there’s a decision to be made about what will go in your salad for the week.

Cucumbers.

Strolling in the veggie section, your eyes scan for the green vegetables before landing on them. You stood debating on which one to get. Why are there so many varieties? But according to Google, Persian cucumbers go great in salads.

As you grabbed a second cucumber, you looked up to see the man who betrayed your trust. And no—it wasn’t Jungkook. It was his roommate, Jimin, aka ‘the trickster’.

With a stomp in your step and a cucumber in your hand, you march over to him, striking him on the shoulder with it.

“Ow!” Jimin exclaims, rubbing his shoulder as he turns around. His brows furrowed, lips in a full pout when he finds you standing behind him. “What the hell?” He looks to see the weapon in your hand. “Did you just hit me with a cucumber?” You hum. “Why��d you do that?”

Tossing the cucumber in your basket and crossing your arms, you huff out, “Because you deserved it!”

“Deserve what?”

You roll your eyes at the not-so-innocent man. Was he trying to play Cupid or something with you and Jungkook?…Because his stupid plan kind of worked. You truly had a great time at dinner, and it was nostalgic, just like how things used to be.

“Mmhm. Count your days, Park,” you quip, turning around to head in the other direction. Jimin’s calling after you to wait for him, but you keep on walking.

As he catches up, standing beside you, he nudges your arm. “Oh, come on. I was just trying to help a friend out,” he finally admits.

“Well, don’t.”

Jimin strides in front of you, stopping you in your tracks. “Hey—” You attempt to go around him, but he’s unrelenting. “Just hear me out, okay?” You sigh, waving for him to continue. “I’m sorry I ambushed you, but it was the only way you’d hang out with Jungkook. I know the two of you had shit go down in the past, and I just wanted to help you both move on to being friends again.”

“Why does it matter to you?”

“Because,” he pauses and straightens his back with his chin up. “I like you and I like Jungkook, and who wouldn’t want to see their friends be happy, hmm?”

Jungkook’s laughter echoed in your mind. You knew it was dumb to miss something as simple as a laugh, but you had heard it for so many years, and then it stopped for a long time. It felt nice to have a piece of an old friend back.

Jimin gives you a look and a grin sweeps across his face. There’s a satisfaction behind that grin and you wish you could wipe off.

“You’re lucky you’re cute, Park Jimin,” you say, stepping off to the side as a customer rolls by with their cart through the two of you.

He laughs, showing off his pearly whites. “I should check out and head off—don’t want you to start getting any ideas and start a food fight here in the grocery store.”

“Yeah, you should run.” You pretend to grab the cucumber and watch him run off to self-checkout.

A buzz from your back pocket alerts you of a notification and, to your surprise, it’s a text from Jungkook. It looks like he hadn’t forgotten about you.

Jungkook 1:34 PM Hey. I’m throwing a small dinner for Jimin’s birthday on Friday at 7 pm. Say you’ll come.

You 1:35 PM Define small.

Incoming Call Jungkook

“If I come and it’s a big party like last time, then count me out.”

“Hello to you, too.”

“Right—hey. No, but seriously. I’m not a big crowd kinda gal.”

“Including me and you, there would only be six people. That’s not a lot, right?”

It’s not, but you’ll have to save your social battery for the dinner party.

“No, yeah, that’s fine.”

“And don’t worry, you know everyone—Lana’s going too.”

The big question is: will Josie be there?

A beat passes and you realize you’re standing in the middle of an aisle, probably blocking someone’s way.

Jungkook’s voice comes through your phone, calling your name a few times. “Hello? Hey. Are you still there?”

You turn to make sure no one’s around. “Yeah, sorry. I’m still here. Is, um, ‘who-shall-not-be-named’ coming?” You ask, nibbling on the inside of your cheek. It’s a name for fuck’s sake, but you can’t bring yourself to say it.

He chuckles at your subtle attempt to avoid the Josie topic. “I can promise you that she’s not coming. Is that why you’re hesitant to say yes?”

“Pfft–what! No!” you blurt out, lying through your teeth. Truth be told—yeah, it is. You don’t want a repeat of Jimin’s party.

You clear your throat, “Anyway, yeah, I’ll come. Count me in.”

“Cool! See you on Friday.”

“Can I bring anything?”

“Nope–just yourself. Oh, and it’s a surprise, so don’t say anything to Jimin.”

“‘Kay…sounds good. I’ll see you Friday.”

“Can’t wait to see you,” he said with enthusiasm before hanging up.

As you’re mixing the salad, you’re staring absent-mindedly at the abstract painting that’s framed on your wall because those five words rang in your ears on the drive home.

You mumbled those words in different tones, trying to make sense of the innocent expression. It’s completely normal for Jungkook to be excited. He hasn’t seen/hung out/talked to you in almost seven years. Yeah, that’s it—at least it’s what you’re telling yourself.

Lana waves her hand in your face. “Um, hello! I don’t think you can mix the salad anymore!”

Looking down, a few springs of leaves have been tossed out of the bowl and onto the counter. Oops. You pick them up, throwing them in the garbage bin. “Sorry—I was distracted.”

“Clearly.”

As you push the bowl aside, your focus is on the unopened bottle of wine.

“Are you going to tell me what’s distracting you, or should I wait until the wine settles in?”

“You can wait until the wine settles in. It’ll give me time to forget about it.”

Lana picks up a fork, threatening you with it. “I swear to god if you don’t tell me—”

“Okay, okay. The other day, Jungkook called to invite me to Jimin’s dinner party.” Lana narrows her eyes and hums, intently listening. “At the end of our conversation, he said, ‘Can’t wait to see you’, and he seemed excited.”

She nods her head, waiting for the rest of the story, but you don’t say anything else. “That’s it? God–that’s so boring. I thought you guys kissed or something.”

“Lana!” you cry out, almost knocking over the wine bottle.

“What? I thought he would’ve made his move by now.”

You roll your eyes. “There’s no move to make. He’s with Josie, remember?”

“Josie Schmosie—she’s old news, but you,” she points and grins, “You’re back and here to fuck things up,” she claps with a gleeful smile.

“Oh, will you stop it? I’m not back to do anything—and what the hell, Lana? You’re not helping!”

Lana chortles, covering her mouth. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m sure what Jungkook said to you is just a simple expression of how much he can’t wait to see you and get you underneath his sheets.”

You sigh, shaking your head. “I don’t even know why I bothered you with this.”

“Okay, I’ll stop. I promise—just kidding. Can I ask one more thing?” You wave your hand for her to continue. “You’re telling me you don’t even want to revel in the idea of the two of you being something more than just friends?”

The iciness of the tiled counter becomes apparent underneath your fingers, and you’re faced with a question you never wanted to answer—aloud, at least. Considering that he’s tried breaking up with Josie multiple times, but somehow is still with her, you’re unsure what will push Jungkook to cut off the head of the snake.

You hate that Jeon Jungkook has been—scratch that—is your Roman empire. He’s the one thing you’ve come back to even when you didn’t want to. It’s the same three questions you’ve had: Is he okay, is he happy, does he miss you too?

And if you’re completely honest, the answer is yes. Of course, you’ve reveled in the idea of you and him.

“I don’t know, Lana. I mean yes—the thought has crossed my mind. I’ve liked him since senior year, but it takes two to tango, and Jungkook can’t do that right now. Besides, I won’t wait around for him to come to his senses.”

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me, that’s the expression, isn’t it?

You can’t imagine going through another heartbreak from the same boy.

Things happen in life that don’t make sense.

Especially for the price of a pair of earrings, you’re currently looking to purchase as Jimin’s birthday present. The sales associate senses your hesitation and brings out a similar pair that’s on sale.

“Ah—that’s more like it. I’ll take those and do you still provide gift wrapping?” you ask, looking at the sign you saw on the way in.

“Yes, we do. Let me go into the back and wrap it up for you.”

The associate disappears through the back door, probably to talk shit about you to their co-workers, but hey–a girl has to save money where she can. It’s a fragile economy.

You roam, looking through the display cases of bracelets, rings, and watches. A gold Casio watch catches your eye–it looks like one Jungkook used to wear. He treasured the vintage-looking watch because it was his father’s. Come to think of it, you haven’t seen him with it when you saw him. Maybe he lost it or replaced it with something else.

Either way, you continue eyeing pieces of jewelry you’ll never purchase for yourself, and it’s when you look up to catch a glimpse of a girl you recognize. But it’s the man marking her neck that isn’t your ex-best friend. You’ve locked eyes with which she-who-must-not-be-named, and maybe it’s not too late to pretend you didn’t see her.

The sales associate returns the wrapped gift along with your credit card. You quickly thank her, looping your arm through the gift bag. Your eyes scan everything in view to see if the coast is clear. There’s no sign of your enemy, so you dart out of the store only to find Josie and this mystery man looking at the window display at the neighboring boutique.

Fuck, just go on your way and don’t engage. Don’t engage! You say to yourself, swiftly walking past them.

You’re busy berating yourself to hear someone calling your name. Stopping in your tracks, you sigh, waiting for Josie to catch up.

“Hey!” Josie chirps like the two of you are friendly.

“Hi…” you say glumly, with furrowed eyebrows. She’s never been nice to you before, so why should you start now?

“Can you not tell Jungkook what you saw?”

You tut, blinking your eyes at her like you owe her a favor. “Look Josie—what you do doesn’t concern me, okay?” you say, walking past her. It’s been a few weeks since you last saw her and she’s cheating on Jungkook with some guy? God, if only you could smack him upside the head right now—Josie too!

You’re a few steps ahead before you stop in your tracks and turn, walking back to her. You huff, “Tell me one thing. If you’re off with some guy behind Jungkook’s back. Why are you still stringing him along, then?”

Josie looks at you, ready to answer, but you raise your hand, stopping her. “Forget I asked. It’s none of my business.”

As you walk off again, there’s a revolting feeling in the pit of your stomach having to keep this to yourself. Jungkook deserves to know the kind of person Josie is, but it’s not your place to say anything. You’re not his best friend anymore. Honestly, you’re unsure what the two of you are and sometimes, there are some things you just shouldn’t say.

Whenever you think about seeing Josie and that mystery man, it makes you want to gag, and throw something at the wall, but mainly at her. Who knows how long she’s been cheating on Jungkook? You tossed and turned in bed, debating whether you should say something to him.

The dinner party is tonight, and if you happen to be alone with him and the Josie topic comes about, then you’ll mention it.

Another thought crosses your mind, what if he thinks you’re making this up because you’re jealous of Josie? Ah, fuck. Either way, you’ll turn out to be the bad guy, right? You’ll either break his heart or you’ll sound like a jealous person.

You don’t want to ruin whatever the two of you have, because you’ve missed the comfort of an old friend and you don’t want to lose it again.

Even though you know the code, you don’t press the four digits. Instead, you knock, waiting for someone to open the door.

“Hey!” Jungkook says, eyes dropping to your hands. “I said you didn’t have to bring anything.” He takes a step back, letting you through, and grabbing the box of Soju.

“I know, but Lana always says, ‘Don’t go anywhere empty-handed’,” you say, flashing a small smile.

“Ah, well, the Soju will go great with tonight’s menu.”

The aroma from Jungkook’s cooking is immaculate. You can almost taste the different dishes he’s prepared.

“Oh my god, it smells so good–like how your mom used to make food for us all the time.” You walk over to the dinner table, displayed with grilled meat, japchae, tteokbokki, buddaejjigae, and a plethora of banchan. “How is your mom? I miss her and her cooking.”

Jungkook chuckles softly. “She’s doing great. Her cooking, though? Not so much. It’s become too salty for my taste—Don’t tell her I told you that.”

You rub your hands together. “Oh, you bet that’s the first thing I’ll say after giving her a hug.”

“Don’t! She’ll disown me. She already hates that I’m a better cook than her,” Jungkook says, opening the box of Soju.

“You should become a private chef or something.”

He opens the refrigerator door, placing the Soju to chill. “Nah—I’ll just cook at home. I’m still learning, testing the waters, y’know?”

“I hate you.”

His eyes perk up with concern. “What did I do this time?”

“You’re good at everything you do—it’s unfair to the rest of us peasants.”

Jungkook relaxes at your answer, thinking he did something wrong again.

Placing the last Soju bottle in the fridge, he turns back, scanning you from head to toe. You’re dressed in an oversized Linkin Park band tee and jeans. He recognizes the shirt, the one you wore religiously during your emo teenage years.

“What? Is there something on my face?” you ask, touching your cheeks.

He shakes his head no and clears his throat. “I, um, wanted to talk to you...about something.”

“Oh?” Your eyes and ears perk up, but you’re interrupted by a commotion coming from the front door.

“The birthday boy is coming! Hide!” Lana says in a hushed tone. She rushes over to you, crouching down behind the counter, pulling you down with her. You chuckle, shaking your head.

With the front door open, Jungkook’s other roommate, Namjoon, walks in first–hand in hand with his girlfriend, and then following is the birthday boy.

Lana peers above the chairs to see if they’ve come in. “Surprise!” She cries out. Everyone’s ears must be ringing at this point.

Jimin gives a half-smile along with a chuckle. “Lana, you ran past us in the driveway.”

Her mouth turns into a cheesy smile. “You caught me. Sorry, I kind of ruined the surprise.”

“Happy birthday Jimin,” you say, walking over to him, arms out for a hug.

“I’m glad to see you and Kook have made up,” Jimin utters. “He needs someone like you around.” He pulls back, squeezing your arms before letting you go.

Namjoon and his girlfriend, Nora, greet you and Jungkook and then take a seat at the dinner table.

You look at Jungkook. “We’ll talk later?”

He hums in agreement. “Yeah, later.”

You’ve missed this—hanging out with old friends. It’s fun to be around people who you’ve known for a long time. You remember Namjoon being a senior when you were a freshman and the stories you’d hear about him—prom king, valedictorian; he did it all when he was in school. And Nora was the perfect woman for him. They’re both working toward their doctorate in philosophy. Their IQs were the equivalent of yours, Lana, Jimin, and Jungkook’s combined.

“Wow, I feel unqualified to be sitting at this table,” you say jokingly. Being an HR specialist was never the plan, but you’ve come to enjoy your job because you like to think you’re a good judge of character when it comes to hiring.

“Let’s stop talking about work, and have some fun! After all, it is Jimin’s birthday. How about a game of Truth or Dare?” Nora asks, looking around the dining table to get some confirmation. “I need verbal consent, please.”

Everyone glances at each other, awaiting answers. There are various responses, and everyone agrees to play.

Nora claps with a joyful squeal. “Okay, Jimin gets to ask first since it’s his birthday. Choose your victim, and anything’s fair game!”

There’s a groan from you and Jungkook. You have a feeling this night will become interesting.

Jimin rubs his hands together and then points to each person. “Eeny, meeny, miny, moe…” He continues the rhyme, and you know he’s itching to choose you or Jungkook, and his finger lands on Jungkook.

“Oh-ho-ho. Please pick dare, or I’ll make you answer something you don’t want to,” he says, playfully sticking out his tongue.

Jungkook narrows his eyes at his devilish roommate. “Don’t test me, Park. I can make your life a living hell, too.”

“Ah yes, I’d like to see you try.”

Your heart’s racing, and your hands are sweaty while gripping the chair’s armrest. Jimin has always been sneaky, and you’re sure he’ll make Jungkook kiss you.

Everyone’s waiting for Jungkook’s answer. He groans before replying, “Fine. Dare.”

Both Lana and Nora let out muffled squeals while you’re holding your breath.

“I dare you…to say something dirty to ____.” Jimin grins from ear to ear, staring at you.

You knew Jimin would be unrelenting when it came to you and Jungkook.

Turning to Jungkook, you say, “If you’re uncomfortable, don’t do it. It’s just a dumb game.”

“Hey! Nora said anything’s fair game and my dare is completely harmless. I could’ve asked you to do something else, but I didn’t,” Jimin refutes.

“It’s fine,” Jungkook says with a scowl. Turning to you, he leans over. His breath is warm against your ear, goosebumps are trickling on your skin, and your hair is standing on its end. He whispers, “You look so pretty—wish I could do this forever.”

“Hey, hey, hey! You’re supposed to say it aloud for everyone to hear,” Jimin protests.

You visibly gulp, returning to a straightened position in your chair. The ten words he said shouldn’t affect you, but it does. The room has grown warmer and you’re practically melting like butter in a hot pan. It’s just a silly game and you’re so over Jimin and his antics.

“Your dare was ‘to say something dirty to ___’. You didn’t specify if it was a whisper or if I had to shout it from the rooftop,” Jungkook chirps, quickly glancing in your direction to make sure you’re okay.

Jimin glares at Jungkook with a blaze of a thousand suns. “It’s implied that you say it out loud so everyone can hear.”

Lana elbows Jungkook. “What did you say? How dirty was it? Like, give us a rating, PG-13, R, NC-17?” He doesn’t answer her, but she looks at you, pointing her fingers to her eyes and then back to you, indicating that you’ll tell her later.

“I’ll let it go this time, but from now on, no whispering, and everyone has to hear what everyone says,” Jimin demands, awaiting confirmation from the group. “Okay, Jungkook, it’s your turn.”

He turns to Lana and bluntly asks, “Would you ever sleep with Jimin?” Jungkook peers at Jimin because he knows that Jimin’s had a crush on Lana since high school.

Lana’s mouth twists before answering, “Yeah, I guess.”

Jimin scoffs, offended by her response. “You guess? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know if you’re any good in bed!”

“And I don’t know if you’re any good in bed!” he chirps back.

“Please—I’ll be the best sex you’ll ever have,” she jeers, crossing her arms.

Jimin stands. “Oh yeah? Prove it.” He retorts, raising his chin in defense.

Everyone ‘oohs’, staring at the two like they’re in a stand-off.

“Prove it! Prove it!” Nora urges, pounding her fists on the table.

Namjoon fakes a laugh, muffling his girlfriend’s pounding. “I’m sorry. She’s had too much to drink. Don’t listen to her.”

Jimin leans forward, hands on the table. “Yeah…prove it.” He raises an eyebrow, wondering if Lana will back down or take on the challenge.

“Right now?” She tilts her head, scanning him from head to toe.

He shrugs. “Mm, what a shame. I guess you’ll never be able to prove it,” he says with a tut.

The chair legs squeak when Lana pushes herself to stand. “When’s the last time you got tested?”

“A month ago,” Jimin quickly replies like no one else is in the room. “I’m clean. You?”

“I’m clean too. You got condoms?”

You sink in your chair, wiping your face, watching these two go off on each other. Honestly, you can’t believe you’re witnessing this.

“Got a whole box ready for you.”

Lana marches over to Jimin, grabbing his hand. “Well, come on birthday boy.”

Your mouth drops, watching the two-run upstairs. “They’re not gonna fuck, are they?” Lana has been in a dry spell for the last year, so you don’t blame her for wanting to get laid.

“Yeah, I think they are,” Jungkook answers. “Yah—” he turns to yell toward Jimin’s room. “Keep it down, will ya?”

The rest of you continue the game, but they’re just questions to get to know each other.

“Jungkook, if there’s one thing you could take back. What would it be?”

He looks in your direction, then plays with his Soju glass, spinning it a few times. You’re biting the inside of your cheek, eyes bouncing from him and then to Nora and Namjoon.

“Um, I’d go back to the day I broke ___’s heart—take everything back.”

The couple looks at each other, forcing a fake laugh. “Well, I can sense the tension between our friends here,” Nora says. “Joonie, baby, didn’t you wanna show me that thing in your room?”

Namjoon’s eyebrows furrow. “What thing?”

Nora stands, tugging his hand, and drags him down the hallway to his room. You can hear the two bickering before the door closes.

You’re silent. Unsure of what to say. You want to move forward, but the past keeps haunting you. Will it always be like this with you and Jungkook? And certainly, there are things you didn’t say that you should say now, but what’s the point?

“We should clean up,” you say, picking up a few plates to stack them. Jungkook follows your lead, helps clear the table, and walks over to set them in the sink.

Turning on the faucet, you rinse off the plates. Jungkook leans back against the kitchen island, eyes scanning over you.

“I meant what I said earlier.”

You close your eyes, then breathe out a sigh. Looking at the boy who used to be your best friend. His eyes hold the galaxy and you get easily lost in them. You’re an explorer longing to find the next big discovery. It’s right in front of you, but at a moment’s notice, you might lose him like you did before.

“Kook…we were kids back then, and you can’t change the past.” You continue to wash the dishes, but it’s hard to focus when he’s near.

Jungkook reaches to turn off the water, gently squeezing your arm to look at him. “Yeah, I know, but I can try to fix it now, right?”

Your hands grip onto the sink, your eyes focused on the water dripping from the spout. You fixate on Jungkook’s words. How can he reconcile a friendship he tore apart? And for what? A girl?

He calls your name, breaking your focus. “Talk to me.”

There’s a tightness in your chest as you turn to him. “Fix it? I don’t want you to fix it.”

“O-kay…then tell me what you want and I’ll do it.”

If it was only that easy.

You close the distance between you, looking at him. “What do I want?” He hums. “I want you to be broken. Wrecked—just like how I was. It took me years to get over you—our friendship. I hate it, Jungkook.”

“I hate what I did to you—”

“No,” you say, shaking your head. “You don’t understand, Kook.” Your heart is aching—like someone reached in, squeezing it as hard as they can. 

“Then explain.”

Your eyes meet his. “You. Own. Me,” you say, your index finger pressing into his chest with each word. “These last few weeks have been excruciating. I don’t know who I am when I’m around you. No matter how hard I try to convince myself that I’ve moved on. You’ll always be the one thing that I’ll never be over.”

Your heart is pounding, and every inch of your body is burning to the touch. You didn’t think anyone could ever make you this livid. But as much as you want to hate him, moving back home simply confirms everything you’ve been attempting to hide for the past seven years—you love him.

“I was hurt, too. You don’t think I was?” Jungkook says softly, lifting your chin so you can meet his gaze. “I was devastated, knowing how much I hurt you. I couldn’t eat or sleep for days. Seeing and talking to you every day and then it just stopped. My world was falling apart, and I didn’t know how to fix it. I watched you go off to live your life while I was stuck here with you, haunting me everywhere I went. Philz, the damn grocery store, the park–you were there. There was no escaping you. So yeah, I was wrecked and broken, just like you.”

The narrative you created in your head of Jungkook and Josie was something out of a fairytale. Boy meets girl, they fall in love and live happily ever after. But according to Jungkook, it was hardly the case. You haunted him as much as he haunted you throughout the years.

Chuckling to yourself, you think about how this could've been avoided if one of you had just spoken up. Stepping back from him, you take a breath to calm your nerves. You lean back against the sink, arms folded. “Can I ask you something?”

Jungkook’s eyes flick to you and his body mirrors yours. “I’m an open book, ___.”

“Why did you give up so easily? Why didn’t you fight for me? Our friendship?”

A beat passes, and he doesn’t respond. It’s foolish to think he’d have an answer for you.

Your lips thin, and you breathe out a sigh of frustration. “It’s fine, Kook. Don’t answer. We’ll just go back to the way things were. Have a good life.” You walk off toward the living room and he follows.

“You don’t get to walk away,” he says, shutting the front door when you try to open it.

“Yeah? Watch me!” You turn back to the door, attempting to open it, but Jungkook’s hand is holding it shut.

He grips your arm. “I was scared, okay? I was young and stupid, and scared.”

You turn around and push him back. “Scared? You’re still scared! That’s why you can’t even break up with Josie! She’s cheating on you, by the way! I saw her with some guy glued to her neck. I don’t understand why you can’t just let her go.”

“I’m not scared of breaking up with Josie. I just got comfortable with her being around and didn’t think I could do any better.” Jungkook steps back and reclines on the couch’s armrest.

“You don’t think you can do better than Josie? You’re Jeon Jungkook, of course, you can.”

He forces a laugh, shaking his head no. “I barely graduated high school, practically failed my college classes. I don’t have a steady job and I have no idea what I’m passionate about. So yeah, I didn’t think I could do any better than Josie, until…”

“Until…?”

“Until I saw you at the party. I know it sounds cheesy, but when I saw you standing in the living room. It was like a sign from the universe, waking me up from this auto-pilot life I was living in. Seeing you again really shook me up.”

You could say the same thing about seeing Jungkook again. The universe loved to toy with the two of you, didn’t it?

“And then after our dinner two weeks ago, I broke up with Josie–like officially. I gave all her stuff back. I’m not answering calls or anything. So, I guess when you saw her, she must’ve moved on to the next guy–that’s what I wanted to talk to you about, me breaking up with her.”

There was a sense of relief when he said that because you were ready to fight Josie.

“Oh,” you say softly, taking a step toward him. “I guess I was wrong about you—being scared, I mean.”

Jungkook’s toying with his necklace, circling it around his neck. “I’m still scared.” He steps toward you, waiting for you to look at him. “I’m scared I’m gonna mess this up,” he says.

“How are you going to mess this up? We’re just friends.”

“That’s the thing. I don’t want to be ‘just friends’.”

Your gaze flicks to him and then drops to his lips and back up again. You know what he’s alluding to, but you need to hear those words leave his lips. “I don’t know what you mean.”

He knows you’re teasing him. “Do I really have to spell it out for you?”

“Yes.”

“Because I love you, okay? I’m in love with you. Have always been in love with you, and I’m scared to lose you again.”

Your eyes are glossy, fighting back tears. You’ve longed to hear those words from Jungkook, and like him, you’re afraid of an unknown future, but right now, all that matters is him.

As a tear falls down your cheek, you’re ready to let love in. Let him in. Discover new things. Rediscover old things. You’re ready to be vulnerable, move forward from the past, and let go of the heartache and pain.

“I’m sorry,” you breathe.

Jungkook steps toward you, cupping your face. “No, no, no. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

You shake your head. “No, I do. I’m sorry I didn’t fight harder for you–for our friendship. It’s my fault too.”

His thumbs caress your cheeks. “Hey, can we agree to let the past be in the past and just focus on us now, in the present?”

Your hands cover his, and you nod, flashing a soft smile. “Mhm. I’d like that.”

Jungkook wipes your tear-stained cheeks. “Now, can I do something I’ve been wanting to do for a long time?”

“What’s that?”

His lips finally touch yours. It’s not fervent or haste. It’s soft, uncertain. But you kiss him back. You’re savoring each point of contact. His lips overlapping yours, capturing a hint of your cherry Chapstick. Your eyes are half-lidded and you pull back for air, but he leans in, bringing you back in for more. His nose bumps into yours as he turns his head, deepening the kiss. Your body presses against his, your fists balled up, tugging on his white t-shirt. There’s a glow of excitement and nervousness rushing throughout your body when one of his hands grips your waist and the other is on the small of your back, pushing you further into him.

A low whine leaves his lips when you withdraw. He reaches for another kiss, but you stop him.

“Kook—” you whisper as his forehead touches yours.

“I don’t want to stop kissing you,” he says, kissing your cheek and tracing your jawline. “Don’t think I can ever stop.”

You chuckle. “I don’t want to stop kissing you, either. Maybe we should take this to the bedroom?”

While lying in bed next to Jungkook, you simply enjoy each other’s presence. Your fingers trace stars across his chest and you love how he breathes–his chest rising and falling ever so softly. The sound of his voice vibrates through your fingers and into your body. With one arm wrapped around you and the other resting behind his head, Jungkook tells you about the dreams he had but never dared to pursue–you being one of them.

And as the clock strikes midnight, the magic of you and him didn’t dissipate. It’s here. It’s real.

[the-fiction-witch]

I Love This Maiden

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Aegon Targaryen Couple - Aegon X Reader Reader - (OC) Ellisa Rating - 18 + Mommy kink / breast play / breast sucking / bread feeding / milk drinking / comfort kink Word Count - 1234

Requested -

AEGON! AEGON! AEGON! AEGON! AEGON! AEGON! AEGON! AEGON! AEGON!AEGON! AEGON! AEGON!AEGON! AEGON! AEGON!

I AM BEGGING FOR THE OTHER PART OF THE BREASTFEEDING AEGON PLEEEEAAAASSSEEEE

I submitted a request/idea like this to another writer but I will not keep this like head canon idea type thing to myself........ Aegon is 100% the type to love his girl breastfeeding him... him being all stressed and angry or sad from the council not listening to him and Alicent being cruel and everything and he just wants to lay his head in her lap and latch his mouth onto her nipple and drink in her sweet milk... it makes him feel at peace... makes him feel wanted and loved and special

Aegon had already been drinking before the night had even come to pass, the wine had been warming his stomach since breakfast with his wife. But now that night had fallen over Kings Landing, he had gathered his regular companions and gone down the usual route. Stopping by, a few inns and taverns all graciously serving the king before, of course, ending the night in one of the brothels down the street of silk. Aegon almost always went to this brothel, he liked the owner's prices and he liked the many sorts of girls who worked there.

One more than others,

Ellisa sat on her bed lounging in the candlelight, dressed in her sheet blue gown with two high slits for her legs, the top of the dress wrapped around the choker at her neck, her long hair cascading down her back.

Laughter erupted from outside in the hallway and the curtain was pulled open revealing Aegon and his companions arm in arm and falling over each other drunk,

“Ah!” Aegon smiled raising his glass, “Ellisa, there you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” he stumbled over falling to his knees on her bed,

“I’ve been here,” She shrugged, “as I always am,”

“Indeed,” he cooed, moving closer and rubbing the tip of his nose against hers,

“You’re grace, are you sure you do not wish for me to find you-” One of his companion boys came closer,

Aegon wrapped his arm around the boy's shoulder and tapped his hand against the boy's tender cheek, “Fuck off Marcello,” He chuckled,

“Yes your grace,” Marcello nodded leaving the room and taking the other of Aegon’s companions with him leaving Aegon and Ellisa alone,

“... Gods know how I have missed you,” He cooed, a tone of clarity even though his drunkenness,

“As have I you, your grace,” She smiled,

He grimaced, “No…” he shook his head, “Not here, not with you.”

“Of course, Forgive me.”

“You always are.” He smiled kissing her cheek,

She nodded, “Come here then my sweet boy,” She cooed opening her arms,

He happily moved closer and curled up in her arms, his legs over her lap, his head resting against her shoulder, a soft and gentle smile across his lips as she wrapped her arms around him in a gentle and caring embrace,

“So tell me, what has my sweet boy been up to these last few days?” she cooed,

“Well, I attended my royal coronation,” He sighed,

“I saw, you were very handsome,” she smiled stroking his back,

“I was?” he looked up with hope in his eyes,

“Very handsome,” she nodded, “I was very proud of you,”

His tears began to well up in his eyes, “Proud of me…” he muttered,

“I’m always proud of you sweet boy,” she smiled,

“...Thank you, Mommy,” He whispered,

“You’re welcome,” She cooed, “Now, what else have you been up to?”

“Humm… been attending a whole bunch of small council meetings,”

“Ohh, council meetings,”

“It’s all just preparations and precautions with my half-sister and all.” he sighed running his fingers gently through her hair,

“Yes, of course, very important matters to attend to,” she nodded, “Still all very big business for such a sweet boy,” she smiled kissing his forehead,

“You take such good care of me,” He cooed, “My sweet mommy,”

“I know what will cheer you up,” she smiled, “How about… we get you nice and relaxed? Would you like that my sweet boy?” She softly stroked his cheek,

He nodded,

“Use your words, you're a big boy now Aegon.”

“Yes please Mommy,” He nodded,

“Perfect,” She cooed, giving his cheek a little pinch before she moved her hands away and untied the dress from around her choker, the dress slowly fell to her waist revealing her skin in the warmth of the candlelight, her large bare breasts exposed to the air,

“Which side may I mommy?”

“The left today, sweet boy,”

He nodded and softly prepared gentle kisses down her neck, leaving tender bites against her throat, slowly he moved down her chest before reaching the nipple of her left breast, he softly kissed it a few times, pressing kisses around the nipple. He gently and slowly flicked his tounge against her nipple to harden it before finally he locked his lips around the nipple and began his gentle and slow sucks,

“Not too quickly now, we don’t want you to get hiccups.” She reminds,

But he didn’t respond, his eyes fluttering shut as he gently sucked until he let out a soft groan as he tasted her milk, he quickly swallowed and began to suck harder.

“Such a sweet boy, being so soft and gentle for Mommy,” she cooed stroking his cheek,

He nodded as he continued to suckle, his hands around her waist playing with her hair looping and knotting it around his fingers as he drank,

Ellisa only smiled wrapping her arms around him and gently rocking them both back and forth like you would a newborn as they feed, and softly she began to sing,

“I loved a maid as sweet as spring, with flowers in her hair. I loved a maid as fair as summer, with sunlight in her hair. I loved a maid as red as autumn, with sunset in her hair. I loved a maid as white as winter, with moonglow in her hair.”

Aegon softly pulled away from her nipple and rested his head against her chest smiling up at her, “But I love this maiden most of all, for she is as sweet as springtime flowers. As far as the summer sun. She is better than a sunset sea and of Moonglow Moore. I love this maiden in my arms, and I shall until I fall.” he softly sang, “And I do… I do truly love you Ellisa,”

“As I you, Aegon,” she cooed giving his lips a soft and tender kiss, “You should get back to the keep sweet boy, they will wonder where you are.”

He sighed but nodded, slowly sitting up and fixing his clothes a little. “I wish I could keep you in my arms for all time, you are far kinder to me than you have any need to be. Even my own mother is not as kind to me as you,”

“Well, I’m always here if you need me, no matter what.”

“I need you.” He said taking her hand, “I need you always.”

“You must go your grace,” she reminds,

“I must…” he sighed, “I will be back to visit again soon,”

“I look forward to it,” she smiled squeezing his hand before he got to his feet,

But he turned back before their hands broke apart, “If anything is coming, anything is to happen. I will send word as soon as I know, I will send men and they will protect you. Take you far from danger. I swear this to you Ellisa.” He said falling to his knees at her bedside,

“Sweet boy,” She cooed stroking his cheek, “My place is here, with you. And I will stay here by your side until the long night claims us all,”

“You mean it?”

“I do,” she nodded,

“You have… alot of faith in me.”

“Of course I do sweet boy,” she smiled kissing his forehead, “I have nothing but faith in you.”

He smiled and softly kissed her hand before kissing her lips once more, “I’ll see you soon,”

“I’ll see you soon,” she nodded,

Before Aegon sighed, got to his feet and left to head back to the Keep. 

[confusedemiposts]

Chuuya sfw alphabet

Notes: Requested by Anon but i accidentally deleted the ask.

Tags: Floof, tiny angst for E,D and W. Not proofread, might be oc, GN! reader

'A' is for Affection (How affectionate are they?)

He's very affectionate, he'll spend any time he can with you and buy you a bunch of gifts, he loves seeing your face light up when he suprised you with a gift, a grin on his own face from your reaction. But his favourite is physical touch. He loves it but he keeps it to a minimum in public, he always has a hand on you no matter what and keep his arm around your waist but nothing too much, only one or two short brief kisses if deemed appropriate, this is even less within the Port Mafia because he wants to keep serious and not seem like some lovesick puppy by his subordinates.

But once in private space? He'll smoother your face In kisses and keep you in his arms for as long as he can

'B' is for Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend?)

He's litterly such a nice and calm person canonically but only acts like an annoyed hot headed chihuahua to Dazai cause he annoys the shit out of him but also trusts him, so unless you annoy him like Dazai then he's the most loyal and trustworthy friend you can find and he loves hanging out with you. I feel like he's the type of friend to beat the shit out of someone who wronged you and offer to buy all your things and even if you say no several times he will buy it anyways, no repayments back.

'C' is for Cuddles (How would they cuddle?)

He likes to cuddle you like a teddy bear, just letting out all his stess out from the day and let exhaustion consume him while he's in your arms,he holds onto you tightly. I think he prefers to cuddle on top of you so he can embrace all of you and just keep his face in your chest or shoulders, embracing your scent that he cannot get enough of.

'D' is for Domestic (Everyday life with them, do they want to settle down?)

Unless you work in the Port Mafia you won't really be able to see him for hours on end, only before and after work or his day's off. He wakes up really early in the morning and cooks breakfast if you aren't awake, and let me tell you he's a fantastic cook. The evenings are more quiet and gentle, probably cuddling on the couch as you either watch tv or read a book as he drinks a nice glass of wine

I think he wants to settle down and spend his every day with you but realistically he can't unless he somehow retired from the mafia, which I don't think Mori will let happen :(

'E' is for Ending (If they had to break up with their partner)

If he had to break up with you it would be for your safety, dating a mafiaso is dangerous in general, dating a mafia executive is asking for a death wish. Your safety would be in absolute danger if any organisation or even Mori were to know you were close to Chuuya, who knows what they'd do to you if they had ill intentions. He'd talk to face to face about it, calm and collected even though his chest is aching at the thought of even doing this

'F' is for Fiance (How do they feel about commitment?)

If this a long term serious relationship the thought of marriage would come across his mind maybe a year or two in, when he realises he genuinely loves you and wants to spend all his waking hours with you. He would propose to you if your thoughts of marriage are positive and when he feels like the moment is right- unless you propose to him first, leaving him extremely flustered but he will instantly say yes

'H' is for Hugs (What are their hugs like?)

He likes hugs. He loves to wrap his arms around you and feel you close, doesn't matter if you're taller or shorter than him, he loves to bury his face into your neck and feel your warmth and he just loves it when you hug him back with your arms around him.

'G' is for Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He is very gentle with you physically, touching you as if you were a delicate flower, but there are times where he loses his patience. He tries his best to keep calm and collected but with the amount of stress he goes through and if tension arises he snaps. But he'll try to fix it if he genuinely upset you, he cares too much about you

'I' is for "I love you" (How fast do they say the L-word?)

This isn't a word he throws around carelessly, it's going to take him awhile till he says it and when he says it he means it.

'J' is for Jealous (How jealous do they get?)

He knows there's no need to be jealous since your his and he is yours but he can't help it if he sees someone get physically close to you with a flirtatious intentions, he will put his hand around your waist and pull you close to him, head on your shoulder as he asks "who's this darling?" Giving a quick peck on your neck and cheek, staring at the person with a menacing glare without your notice.

'K' is for Kisses (what are their kisses like?)

Every kiss he means it, often passionate and deep yet gentle. He loves feeling your lips on his and it's something he will never get tired. Wine and your lips are his favourite things.He likes to place soft kisses on your cheeks, neck, shoulders and the back of your hands. He loves every kiss you give him but he loves the one's where you unconsciously kiss his cheek, forehead or even his mouth with no thoughts in your head, just kissing him makes him feel all tingly inside

'L' is for Little one's (How are they around children?)

He is litterly the BEST with children! He knows how to deal with them and let them have fun, he'd be the best dad ever! The thought of having his own children comes into his head if he sees how you interact with children or just seeing your baby photos. He might bring it up in a late night conversation just to see how you feel about children and ask if you'd ever want children. I think he'd love to have children if he's in a good position but he also cares about your comfort and if this is something you want, since this a serious two person descion.

'M' is for Mornings (How are mornings spent with them?)

Mornings with Chuuya are calm but structured, if you aren't awake yet he'll cook you breakfast. I feel like he has a morning routine so he wakes up at the same time every day, though sleeping in for only an hour on days off. He has a skincare routine that he definitely does with you, how else is his skin so smooth?? Definitely works out too in the morning, he may look slim but he's definitely built.

'N' is for Nights (How are nights spent with them?)

Nights after work are also calm (he's just a calm person to be around). He often comes home late or early even depending on how the mafia is doing, he'll call you if he's coming home late so you know he'd okay. When he's home your both eating dinner and filling each other in the on the day. I think he'd take a shower as fast as possible after dinner, he likes to keep himself clean, he prides in his skincare and haircare, genuinely dragging you into it too. After that he likes to relax with a glass of wine and do whatever before bed, he does go to bed at a certain time to get his eight hours

'O' is for Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves?)

He is simultaneously close to others yet at the same time he isn't. He will never reveal everything about himself, but what he does reveal will come when he is ready and feels secure enough to do so. He won't bring this up either if you never bring up a particular topic. He says a lot of things just because you ask.

'P' is for Patient (How easily angered are they?)

He tries his best to be patient with you, always taking into consideration of your feelings but the rare times if you're being unreasonable about something harmless and he's stressed he will snap but nothing that should lead into an extreme argument. He likes to solve things before they escalate

'Q' is for Quizzes (How much would they remember about you?)

He'll memorise every single thing about you, your likes,your dislikes, your behaviours, he remembers every single detail he seems nessecary which is all.

'R' is for Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

His favourite moment with you is the first time he kissed you, just seeing your face from his kiss made him grin. He was addicted to your lips from then on.

'S' is for Security (How protective are they?)

Chuuya is protective but will give you space if you need some, but if you feel bad or threatened, he will definately do something about it. Even unconsciously he's protective, as I said even in public he always has a hand on you and keeping you close.

'T' is for Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He may be severely busy but he is always trying, using his head to keep a balanced work life and personal life. Always planning free time with you and dates, constantly buying you gifts as if to compensate for the time he wasn't with you, he does it unconsciously I think. If you plan or gift something for him he will absolutely adore it

'U' is for Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

'V' is for Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

I think his worst habit is blowing up? To be honest I'm not really sure about this letter, I think he'd only snap at you specifically if he's stressed or really upset which isn't often, he likes to sort things out

If you don't like smoking that could be a problem, he only smokes to cool off when he's extremely under pressure but he'll try to quit if you really don't like it

This man is not leaving the house without looking perfect, as I said he has a strict skincare and haircare routine- and have you seen his outfit? He could litterly be a model

'W' is for Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Chuuya has experienced lost before and you certainly won't be the last, Though it leaves him devastated every time,Chuuya has learnt self-control to understand his loss and how he personally experiences grief, since he knows all too well how simple it is to lose people. He bears the weight of loss, yet it is loss that gives him motivation to move forward

'X' is for Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Let me just ramble about his ability real quick. If he wants to hide something from you, he'd use his gravity to hide it on high place that neither of you can reach, he'll use it to tease you if you don't have a nullification ability. If you ask he'd put you on the ceiling or just float in general, making sure to comfort you if you get scared or dizzy from blood rush.

'Y' is for Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Not being trusted back, he is loyal and trusts you so he would hope you would trust him back. Or someone who only sees him for his money as he's quiet loaded

'Z' is for Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He is a sound sleeper, just flat out exhausted one he lands on the mattress, he must get his eight hours worth of sleep. He weirdly sleeps like a mess yet somehow looks ethereal at the same time? He likes holding you close to feel you close and his body is extremely warm like a fire so that sucks during summer

Why is he literally the most perfect boyfriend ever???

[mopopshop]

Hey, I have a fic idea. Could you write a fic where the reader invites team to her house for home cooked meal (she is known for being a good cook) and movie night. D volunteers to help reader instead of being with the team (team teases her). Shy reader with flirty D and lots of touchy moments.

Kiss The Cook (Diana Taruasi x OC)

---

You hurried around your kitchen, heart racing with a mix of excitement and nervousness. As the new team manager for the Phoenix Mercury, you wanted to make a good impression on your players. Cooking was your passion, and you hoped your homemade meal would win them over.

The doorbell rang, and you took a deep breath before opening it to find the entire team standing there, smiling and chatting animatedly. Diana, with her trademark mischievous grin, winked at you as she stepped inside, the last one through the door.

"Hey, rookie manager, what's cookin'?" Diana teased, nudging you gently.

You blushed, feeling flustered under Diana's playful gaze. "I, uh, made a few dishes. I hope everyone likes them."

"I'm sure it'll be amazing," Diana said, her voice low and reassuring. "Need a hand?"

Before you could respond, Diana was already pulling off her jacket and rolling up her sleeves. The rest of the team chuckled good-naturedly as Diana positioned herself next to you at the stove, pretending to inspect the pots.

"You're lucky, Calista," Brittney teased from across the room. "Di doesn't usually offer to cook unless she really likes someone."

Your cheeks burned hotter, and you concentrated on stirring the sauce, trying to ignore the knowing glances exchanged between your players. Diana's closeness was both comforting and electrifying, her arm occasionally brushing against yours as you worked side by side.

As the evening progressed, with food devoured and laughter echoing through your cozy living room, Diana found reasons to stay close to you. She fetched drinks, playfully stole bites from your plate, and whispered inside jokes that made you blush even more.

"You have to try this," Diana grinned, holding out a glass of wine she'd poured for you. "My special blend. Guaranteed to make any meal ten times better."

You took a sip, catching her playful wink. "Mmm, you might be onto something there."

Later, as you laughed at a joke someone made about a recent game, Diana leaned in close to your ear, her voice low and teasing. "I swear, if they keep teasing me about cooking with you, I might just have to show off my skills more often."

Her warm breath against your skin sent a shiver down your spine, and you turned to meet her gaze, feeling a rush of excitement at her closeness. "I think they're just jealous of our teamwork."

Diana chuckled softly, her hand brushing lightly against yours as she leaned back, her smile lingering. "Maybe they are. But you know, I think we make a pretty good team too."

You smiled gratefully at Diana, your heart fluttering. Despite your initial shyness, you found yourself enjoying Diana's attention, her touch sparking warmth and excitement within you.

When the team finally left, Diana lingered behind, helping you clean up with a sly grin.

"You know," Diana said softly, leaning closer, "I could always come back tomorrow to help you with anything else."

You met Diana's gaze, your pulse quickening. "I think I'd like that."

---

[prythianpages]

ACOSM | The Night she made Azriel dance

azriel x rhysand's sister (oc)

warnings: angst/fluff? some suggestive content but nothing beyond a heated kiss

summary: The Court of Nightmares is celebrating Rhysand's accomplishment of enduring the blood rite. Valeria pulls Azriel for a dance and their unspoken feelings for each other begin to catch the attention of others.

A/N: this is an imagine among my collection of imagines that follow Rhysand's sister, Valeria. while I'm still working on them, you can find the masterlist for it here. You might be able to read it as a stand alone imagine.

**

Silver sconces flickered with ethereal flames, casting long shadows across the grand ballroom of the Court of Nightmares. At the heart of the grand chamber, a colossal crystal chandelier bathed the dance floor in a cascade of soft, enchanting light. The luminous crystals sparkled like stars, reflecting in the eyes of those gathered beneath. The tapestries, hung with pride and history, depicted battles, bloodshed, and triumphs of the fierce Illyrian warriors.

Tonight, the Court of Nightmares celebrated not only a warrior's coming of age, but the bonds forged through battles and hardships. The High Lord of the Night Court stood at the center of it all. Rhysand, his son and heir, stood to his right. He was dressed in obsidian finery lovingly crafted by his mother.

Valeria stood alongside her mother at the bottom of the stairs that led to their throne, her gaze avoiding her father at all costs…even as Rhysand kneeled before their father in acceptance of the new crown the High Lord held in his hands. She waited until the crowd that had gathered erupted into cheers, joining the High Lord in celebrating Rhysand, to leave her mother’s side.

She needed a drink.

As the musicians began to play a haunting melody, she made her way to the wine table. She wasn’t surprised to find Mor already there and under the influence. She wore an elegant black ball gown instead of her usual shades of red. Her brown eyes that were once full of life were dull and distant. She was still in mourning, joining Valeria in her lament for Mallory.

 Valeria had given her the jewelry box as soon as she had read Mallory’s letter. Upon her arrival to the Court of Nightmares, she had even stopped by Mor’s residence a couple of times to check up on her. She was turned down every time. She had even shut Rhysand completely out, not allowing either of the siblings in. She had chosen to mourn alone.

With a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, she poured a glass for Valeria.

**

Azriel and Cassian stepped into the grand ballroom, their large mesmerizing wings unfurled behind them. The two Illyrians, known for their rugged warrior appearance, had traded their customary leathers for a sleek ensemble befitting the grand occasion. They were both clad in tailored black suits that emphasized the lithe strength of their bodies.

Despite their fitting attire, they felt strangely out of place.

Azriel, partly concealed in his shadows, had an aura of quiet intensity. His eyes searched the room for a certain winged female. His shadows mirrored his request, sharing his determination. He was met with the same inexplicable magnetic pull that had seized him upon his return from the blood rite. 

Following that thread, his gaze swiftly alighted upon the raven-haired woman, who unknowingly, held the other end of the golden thread that beckoned Azriel closer. 

He gulped as his eyes raked over her frame, the first thing striking him of her appearance being the absence of her wings.

She was a vision of timeless beauty in a simple yet enchanting long ivory silk gown–a creation no doubt crafted by her mother’s loving and talented hands. Her long, raven hair tumbled down her back in loose curls that framed her face in a cascade of dark silk.

At her throat, she still wore the moonstone necklace gifted to her by Azriel, the delicate gemstone shimmering with an otherworldly glow.

Her violet eyes held a depth and intensity that continued to draw Azriel in as they met his hazel ones. Her brows rose slightly and he swore he saw the light return to her eyes.

In a blink of an eye, she was rushing toward him.

“Azriel,” she breathed, her voice laced with relief as she threw her arms around his taller, broader frame. She nestled her head against his chest as his shadows also joined him in in their embrace.

“Valeria.” He replied, matching her tone of relief as he held her tightly, the tension of their separation melting away in that single moment.

“Cassian!”

Valeria pulled away from Azriel sheepishly, still flushed with the emotions of their reunion. She turned to the Illyrian male beside him, who had called out his own name and waited for her with expectant open arms. She didn’t hesitate to move into Cassian’s brotherly embrace and he chuckled with delight.

"How have you been, my little warrior?"

She pulled away from Cassian. It was almost instinctive the way her steps drew her closer to Azriel, her body unconsciously seeking to be close to him. Azriel’s body did the same, their fingers brushing against each other lightly.

Cassian couldn’t help but notice the subtle, unspoken connection between them. He wondered if he should say something.

“Bored. No one to annoy, unfortunately.” Valeria finally answered his question, pulling Cassian from his thoughts. She then looked at Azriel, her eyes looking toward his shoulders.

“Where is–”

“Noctis is resting in your room.” Azriel answered before Valeria could finish. “We thought it would be too chaotic here for him.”--He saw the concern in her eyes at the thought of her bird being left alone.--”I left some of my shadows to keep him company.”

“Thank you.” Valeria breathed a sigh of relief. She made sure to look at both Azriel and Cassian, knowing that they along with her brother–who she already thanked earlier–carefully nursed her beloved bird back to health.

“The house is awfully quiet without you there.” Cassian commented with a small frown.

Rhysand’s voice suddenly emerged from behind. “I never thought I’d be the one to say this but I miss you and that damn bird keeping me up at night with your piano...and those awful chirps of his.” 

Valeria rolled her eyes, turning around to face her brother to make sure he caught the gesture. “His chirps aren’t awful. They’re lovely.”

“Yeah, sure. Whatever.” Rhysand chuckled, his eyes looking amongst their group. “Where’s Mor?”

Valeria’s eyes widened as she realized that her cousin had not followed her and chose to remain at the wine table instead. Her heart ached for her. 

Cassian sighed. “I’ll go get her.”

Azriel seated himself at the empty table nearby. Rhysand and Valeria followed after him with the latter taking the empty chair beside him. A wave of magic filled the air, and suddenly, a sumptuous array of food materialized at the center of the table. Empty plates appeared before them, ready to be filled. Azriel was the first to fill his plate with a tempting assortment of delicious food but instead of indulging in it himself, he extended the plate to Valeria. 

“Here,” He urged her, his voice gentle, as he offered her the plate. “You need to eat.”

“It’s been hard to find an appetite these days.” Valeria admitted quietly, accepting the plate from him with a small thanks.

She found an immense guilt to do anything as she mourned the loss of her friend. She didn’t think anyone had noticed but Azriel had. It was subtle but he noticed her thinner frame and the slightly sunken appearance of her cheeks.

Rhysand’s gaze remained fixed on the two, his violet eyes narrowing as he watched their interactions. Gratitude welled within him for Azriel’s vigilant care for his sister yet a flicker of suspicion ignited in his mind. He wondered if Azriel’s watchful care held a depth of meaning beyond mere brotherly intention…

Rhysand’s gaze abruptly tore from the two upon the arrival of Cassian and Mor at their table. Mor stumbled into her seat, across from him, with Cassian’s careful support. 

“Oh, this food looks ravishing,” she slurred as she stole a piece of bread from Azriel’s plate.

Azriel didn’t seem to mind. However, when Cassian reached over to steal the potatoes from his plate, Azriel promptly moved his plate out of Cassian’s reach, fixing him with a glare. There was humor dancing in his eyes. 

“Congrats, bat boys.” Mor grinned, referring to their accomplishment in the blood rite. She hadn’t seen them since Valeria’s birthday.  

“Bat boys?” Azriel questioned, his brows furrowing in slight confusion while Valeria’s amused reaction almost led her to choking on her food. Her laughter bubbled forth, finding their surprised and bewildered expressions highly entertaining.

Mor looked at Valeria and joined in.

“Bat boys,” Rhysand echoed, a smile playing on his lips as he swirled the wine in his glass. “I can’t say I hate it.”

The three men shared a knowing look, finding relief and joy in the sound of Valeria’s and Mor’s laughter. A sound they had feared they wouldn't hear again. The five of them continued to enjoy their dinner, engrossed in light conversation.

When the music began to pick up and people took to the dance floor of the grand ballroom, Rhysand noticed Valeria’s eyes light up. He knew how much she enjoyed dancing as he was often forced to be her dancing partner when they were children. Determined to keep the his sister in bright spirits, he extended his free hand to her.

Valeria hesitated for a moment and a frown fell over her face as a wave of guilt hit her then. Guilt for daring to feel joy when Mallory was robbed of any more experiences.

Warmth and reassurance suddenly filled her in that moment, the same strange way it did after her nightmares would wake her, washing away her guilt. It’s okay, it seemed to say.

She accepted her brother’s offer and with a smile from Rhysand, they made their way to the dance floor. The people dancing seemed to part for them, allowing them to reach the center. Their presence was compelling and piercing and a cool mask was on both of their faces. Some stopped and stared, admiring the beauty of the son and daughter of the Night Court. 

Rhysand and Valeria began to move together, their steps fluid and graceful. He led with care, guiding Valeria through the steps. His own violet eyes held a promise of better days to come, and in that moment, Valeria felt a sense of hope return to her heart.

The music swelled and Rhysand twirled Valeria with a flourish. She couldn’t help but smile again as the weight of her worries began to lift.

“There she is,” Rhysand smiled back at her.

As the song came to an end, she curtsied at her brother and when the orchestra began another song, her gaze landed on Azriel. He remained at the table, nursing a wine glass of his own. His shadows had been watching her every move with a curious intensity as he pretended to be engaged in whatever Cassian was saying as the latter animatedly waved his hands.

Rhysand followed her gaze with an amused smile and then chuckled. “Az doesn’t dance. You’d have better luck with Cassian. Although, he might step on your toes.”

A mischievous glint danced in Valeria’s eyes as Azriel’s gaze lifted to meet hers across the room. It was as if he heard his name being called.

“He will for me."

With a playful spin, Rhysand sent her Azriel's way, and she glided toward him. Azriel recognized the look in her eye immediately, already having an excuse ready for her. A lame one at that.

“I can’t dance.”

Valeria's eyes sparkled with an impish charm. "Your shadows tell me that's a lie."

"You can hear them?" Azriel raised an eyebrow, genuinely surprised.

His shadows, usually silent and obedient, seemed to have a mind of their own tonight. They coiled back, looking almost sheepish. Only when we want her to, they responded with unexpected sass.

“Sometimes.” Valeria shrugged nonchalantly, as if hearing his shadows was entirely ordinary. "Doesn't everyone?"

Azriel shook his head slowly. "No, not everyone."

"Oh."

His shadows brushed through her hair, their cool tendrils ghosting past her ear. "Well, right now they're telling me your mother actually taught you how to dance."

"Traitors," Azriel muttered grumpily at his defiant shadows, who dared to laugh in his ears, swirling playfully between Valeria and him.

Valeria, however, wasn't about to take no for an answer. With a touch of determination and playfulness, she intertwined her fingers with Azriel's, catching him off guard. His heart quickened, and a soft smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he couldn't resist her any longer.

Complying with her invitation, Azriel rose from his seat, his eyes locked with Valeria's. Together, they stepped onto the dance floor, swaying to the gentle melody of the music.

In the midst of the crowd, they danced. It was a dance of shadows and moonlight, and in each other's arms, they found a rare and beautiful harmony.

Rhysand once again found his gaze fixed on the two as his sister and one of his closest friends--someone he considered his brother-- danced as if they were the only two in the room. Beside him, Cassian and Mor also watched the pair.

Cassian noticed the thoughtful furrow in Rhysand’s brow. “Something on your mind, Rhys?”

Rhysand hesitated before replying. “It’s Valeria. She and Azriel…”

“Oh, Rhys, you’re just being an overbearing and overprotective brother.” Mor couldn’t help but chuckle. She looked at Cassian, inclining her head at him to agree.

“Yeah,” Cassian said with a nod of his head. “We all care for Val deeply. She’s like a little sister to me and I’m sure Azriel feels the same.”

But even Cassian began to doubt his words as he remembered their earlier reunion and it did nothing to dwell the concern in Rhysand. He continued to watch his sister and Azriel before Mor pulled his attention away from the dance floor.

**

Valeria swayed gracefully on the dance floor, her white dress catching the light as Azriel spun her around. Her violet eyes sparkled with a mixture of joy and something deeper, something unspoken.

As the dance continued, Azriel couldn't help but glance down at Valeria's lips for a fleeting moment. The magnetic pull between them was undeniable, and the world around them seemed to blur as they swayed to the music. It was as if the air was charged with a palpable tension, their hearts beating in unison.

But just as the moment became achingly sweet and full of promise, a striking, dark-haired woman appeared before Azriel. "Would you do me the honor of the next dance, Shadowsinger?" she purred, her voice as seductive and charismatic as her gaze.

Azriel reluctantly pulled his gaze from Valeria to meet the woman’s. He looked back at Valeria. There was hesitation in his eyes, almost begging for Valeria to shake her head at him, to tell him no. Much to his disappointment, Valeria nodded at him and he reluctantly accepted the dark-haired woman's invitation.

As Valeria left Azriel's side, a sense of longing hung in the air–a dance interrupted and a moment deferred. She made her way back to the table with her brother and friends. She watched as Azriel and the woman began to dance with a mixture of curiosity and something she couldn’t quite name. 

Rhysand couldn't resist a teasing chuckle. "Look what you started.”

Valeria tried to hide her jealousy, but the sight of Azriel with another woman had her wrestling with her feelings. A small sigh escaped her lips. She couldn't blame him for being polite. She knew she had no reason to be jealous, but as a third female approached him for a dance, she couldn't help it. 

The Court of Nightmares' ball raged on. Valeria, still nursing her feelings of jealousy and insecurity, decided it was time to slip away from the festivities, using Mor’s drunken state as an excuse. Rhysand, her older brother, seemed oblivious to her inner turmoil, chatting with a beautiful stranger. Cassian had left earlier, sneaking away to visit his girlfriend.

“I think it’s time for bed.” Valeria said, looking at Mor’s slumping form at the table.

Rhysand chuckled and nodded. He began to excuse himself from the female, who had sat herself next to him, but Valeria stopped him with a wave of her hand. “I can handle it. I’ll take Mor to my room,” Valeria assured him as she placed the blonde’s arm over her shoulders and carefully lifted her from her seat.

Rhysand nodded, engaging himself in conversation with the pretty stranger once more, and Valeria slipped out into the cool night with Mor in tow. As Valeria discreetly made her way to the exit, her heart heavy with unresolved emotions, Azriel’s shadows noticed her departure and informed him.

As soon as the song came to a stop, a couple of minutes later, he was quick to pull away from the dance, bowing slightly at the female before making his way to where he had seen Valeria disappear into. On his way, he passed by the table that now consisted of Rhysand and a beautiful female, who sat on his lap. 

“Az,” Rhysand called out to him, forcing him to come to a stop. There was a glint in his violet eyes while the female on top of him raked Azriel’s body over with hungry eyes. “Care to join us?”

Their scent of arousal hit Azriel. If things were different, he would’ve gladly accepted Rhysand’s offer. It wouldn’t be the first time they shared a woman. But despite the female’s beauty and Rhysand’s promise of an entertaining night, he couldn’t bring himself to say yes.

Instead, he shook his head. “I think I should also call it a night.”

“Suit yourself,” Rhysand replied with a shrug. He feigned nonchalance on the outside but on the inside, his suspicions from earlier resurfaced...

Azriel excused himself and left the ballroom, his true intention to find where Valeria had slipped away to. In the darkness of the night, Azriel's shadows flitted through the corridors of the grand estate, searching for her. It didn't take them long to find Valeria at the opposite end of the palace. 

She was in the moon gardens, amongst the terrace of blooming flowers. A handful of night-blooming jasmines and gardenias lay beside her. She held a gardenia in her hand, plucking the petals one-by-one deep in thought, as she nestled on the soft grass.

Valeria didn’t seem to notice his arrival.

Plucking a purple peony that matched her eyes from a flourishing bush, he silently settled beside her. “A flower for your thoughts?” 

The gardenia Valeria had been holding slipped from her fingers, landing atop its own ivory petals. She started, caught off guard by the sudden presence of the Shadowsinger.

He reached out, brushing a loose curl of her hair away from her face and secured the purple peony behind one of her ears. His shadows swirled around him, enraptured by her beauty, each tendril whispering in hushed admiration.

“You left without saying goodbye.”

"I just need some fresh air.” Valeria brushed off his concern and without considering the meaning of her words, she added: “I didn’t think you’d notice. You seemed to be having an awfully good time with all those beautiful females.”

Azriel’s hazel eyes glinted with amusement. “Is this jealousy I sense?”

Valeria scoffed, heat rushing to her cheeks. “Me? Jealous?”

“You’re right, you have no reason to be jealous.” Azriel acknowledged, his voice a soothing murmur of understanding. His lips curled into a smirk as his fingers gently lifted Valeria’s chin, coaxing her to meet his gaze.

Reluctantly, her eyes locked with his, and in that moment, a daring boldness took over him.

“I only have eyes for you.”

As Azriel's words hung in the air, the tension between them thickened.

Valeria's heart raced as his thumb brushed softly against her lower lip, his eyes following his movement in a tantalizing tease that sent shivers down her spine. Valeria found herself inching closer and Azriel did the same, his breath mingling with hers.

The world around them faded into insignificance as their faces drew nearer. 

His lips barely brushed hers, almost in a teasing manner, and he rejoiced in the way her eyelids fluttered close and lips parted in anticipation. She wanted this as much as he did. 

“I only want you,” he murmured against her lips before he claimed them in a tender kiss full of longing.

Her lips were just as soft as he had imagined. Just as sweet as he imagined and he savored her taste, yearning for more.

Their lips separated for a brief moment as she adjusted herself and before she knew it, their lips were crashing against each other once again in a heated kiss.

With the guidance of his hand at her waist, she found herself straddling his hips. She wrapped her arms around his neck and the slit in her dress ripped further up, exposing her thigh but she did not care. All she cared about was the sweet taste of his lips and intoxicating scent of night-chilled mist and cedar. 

Azriel’s hand that had lingered on her chin found itself intertwining into the base of her hair. He pulled on it, angling her closer to him. The hand at her waist traveled down to her thigh before his fingers began to lightly trace their way up the newly exposed skin. His tongue traced against her bottom lip and she allowed him in, a soft moan escaping from her as he explored her mouth with his tongue.

He almost moaned at the sound. It sent a shiver throughout his body, fueling his insatiable urge to find out what other pretty sounds he can elicit from her pretty lips.

When they reluctantly pulled away to catch their breaths, their foreheads rested against each other. The garden around them seemed to hold its breath, as if nature itself recognized the significance of this moment and the stars above twinkled.

Azriel’s pupils were dilated as he intently gazed down at her, admiration and a hint of lust in his hazel eyes. 

“Only you.” Valeria breathlessly echoed, the look in her eyes mirroring his. 

Azriel smiled, feeling his heart fill with such warmth that he thought he was about to explode. His shadows danced around them as he peppered her face with tender kisses.

His nose brushed against hers and as the moonlight casted a soft glow on their faces, their lips met again.

**

A/N: after all the sadness and angst, I wanted to write something more romantic. Rhys and Cass are finally catching onto Az and Val and it seems like Rhys might not be too happy about that...

I hope the kissing scene was okay. I've never written anything beyond a simple kiss or suggestive content but I am willing to try for future imagines. It's just hard and kinda ironic for me to write romantic scenes since I fall under the aroace spectrum and lack the experience. yet I love reading all kinds of romance lol

tag list: @justrepostandlove , @kemillyfreitas, @thelov3lybookworm

[whatdoeseverybodywant]

You're the Only Girl for Me - Chapter 16

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤

All OC Characters belong to me

Series Masterlist

taglist: @christinabae @southerngirl41 @reci1996 @jeyusos-girl @jeyusosgirl @melaninsugababy @bemybabiibish @jstarr86 @baconeggndcheez @nbanenefrmdao @purplehairgawdess @arination99 @m3llowww @alyyaanna @harmshake @jeysbae @empressdede @theninthwonder @badbitchcentralinc @bluesole16 @leaderofthebadbitchbrigade @bonni-98 @raya-hunter01 @abadbitchblogs @bebesobrielo @venusesworld  @babysyhsyh

if your name is bold, tumblr won’t let me tag you

February 14th 2021

Airielle could barely concentrate on the movie Josh put on after dinner. Her mind was racing as she contemplated her future with Josh. It was clear to her now that she was in love with Josh.  What if things didn’t work out between them? What if he decided that he didn’t want her nomore and wanted to get back together with Tracy? She didn’t think she could handle another broken heart. 

“Hey you good” Josh asked, coming back to the couch with her glass that he just refilled with wine. Airielle gave him a tight nod and accepted the glass he was handing her, taking a long drink, almost draining the whole glass. Josh watched with a smirk on his face. She was adorable when she was nervous.  “Talk to me Airielle.” 

Now or never Airielle, put on your big girl panties and tell that man how you feel!. She heard Yasmine’s voice yell in her head. She let out a sigh before draining the rest of the glass. 

“I love you.” She blurted out and closed her eyes, waiting for the rejection to come. Of course he’s gonna reject you! You ignored him for days. You think he wants to put up with you? The voice in her head said and Airielle had to quickly push those thoughts away as Josh grabbed her hand. 

“Hey, look at me.” Airielle slowly opened her eyes to look at him. “I love you too.” 

“Deadass?” She breathed out, making him laugh. 

“Duh,” He teased. “Look around Rih. The heart balloons, the flowers, rose petals on the table. Takeout from your favorite restaurant almost a hour away..” 

“But.. It's valentine’s day.” She said with a shrug. “I just thought you were being nice..” 

Josh snorted. “Nice would be me just getting you the wine and a box of chocolates and calling it a day. This” he gestured around the apartment. “This is my professing my love for you. This is my showing you how much you mean to me and how much I want to be with you Airielle.” 

“Oh.” was all Airielle could get out. 

“Look, We love eachother no doubt and I want to be with you but do you want to be with me?” 

“Yes,” she said immediately. “I do want to be with you. I’m just scared I told you that last time.” 

“And I told you, you don’t have nothing to be scared of when it comes to me and you.” 

“So what does this mean?” 

“It means you mine and I'm yours and aint nothing or nobody coming in between us.” 

“But what about Tracy?” 

“Imma handle her, I shoulda put my foot down when she didn’t leave after dropping my sons off. None of that shit will ever happen again. I promise you that.” 

“Promise?” She asked, holding out her pinky to him. He nodded with a chuckle before connecting their pinkies together and placing a kiss on the back of her hand. 

“Promise, but uh- we gotta talk about you and homeboy” He rolled his eyes when she had a confused look on her face. “Oh- I would never dream of fumbling you.” He mocked in a high-pitched tone.  She tried to contain her laugh but she couldn’t with the look of utter disgust on his face. “And then you had the nerve to like that shit.” 

“I’m sorry.” She said still laughing

“Man, that shit had me hot. Just wait until I see that motherfucker…”

February 16th 2021

Airielle let out a soft moan as she slowly arose from her slumber. “Oh shit” she whispered, opening her eyes and making eye contact with Josh who was settled between her legs with his tongue gently lapping at her clit. 

“Mmm, happy birthday baby.” 

“Thank yo-ohh” her response was cut short as he sucked her clit into his mouth, he chucked against her sex as one of her hands moved down to grip his hair between her fingers. Her orgasm hit her immediately, her thighs shaking as Josh didn’t stop his torment on her pussy. “Jesus Christ,” she moaned pushing his head away when it got to be too much. 

“Happy birthday.” He said again as he kissed his way back up her body and connecting their lips together. She moaned into the kiss sliding her hands down his chest and abs, he let out a moan once she cupped him through his boxers.  “We don’t have time.” Airielle ignored him, slipping one hand inside of his boxer and stroking him. 

“But it’s my birthday.” She whispered against his lips. “Shouldn’t I get what I want?”'

“Y-yeah” he stuttered  back, pumping his hips to match her strokes. “You can have whatever you want.” He let out a groan when she sucked his bottom lip into her mouth and bit down on it. She pouted when he abruptly pulled away from her and moved over the bed.  

“Josh.” She whined sitting up in his bed and crossing her arms over her exposed breast. He chuckled and threw her shower cap at her. 

“You got about 20 minutes before Trin and your cousins get here.” she arched her eyebrow but didn't say anything as she stood up from the bed and strutted over to him. “Airielle,” He warned, eyes on the ceiling so he wasn't looking at her naked body. She rolled her eyes with a grin and walked past him into the bathroom. 

“So..” Yasmine trailed off as she, Airielle, Trinity  and Asheley got settled in the empty beauty bar. “Are you happy?” Airelle nodded as she thanked the worker for her mimosa. 

“I am, like this is crazy..” She gestured around to the empty shop that was decorated for her birthday. She was.. shocked for a lack of better words when they walked into the shop to find a ‘Happy Birthday Airielle’ banner taped to the reception desk and a balloon garland at the entrance. 

She was also shocked to find out that Josh had put his credit card on file so whatever service they wanted was already paid for. 

“Oh, you mean none of your ex-boyfriends never bought out a salon for you to get pampered on your birthday?” Ashley said with a teasing smile. 

“It’s the fact that he paid enough to where they could close for the entire day and not miss out on any funds.” Trin said with a smile, proud of her brother in law. This was the top black owned spa/beauty bar in Pensacola and Airielle had mentioned that she wanted to go here, so why not go all out for her birthday? 

“You are a lucky girl.” The nail tech smiled at Airielle 

“Yeah,” Airielle breathed out with a slight chuckle. It was crazy to her that a couple of days ago she was willing to walk away from a relationship with Josh. She was willing to lock her love for him away in a box in the back of her mind with her mother and … nope she still wasn’t ready to think about that. Even though it was years ago it was still a raw and sensitive topic. 

“Imma need to find me a man like Josh..” Ashley said as they walked into one of Airielle’s favorite boutiques to find it set up similar to the beauty bar. 

“Welcome, my name is Aliyah and you must be Airielle.” She said looking at Airielle who nodded. “You ladies have free reign, a Mr. Fatu has put his card on file for you all and said there is no limit.” Airielle’s eyes widened as she looked at the other three women. “Oh and happy birthday.” Aliyah smiled before going to the back of the store where Airielle assumed her office was. 

“And you were willing to give all this up because you were scared..” Yasmine said, chuckling when Airielle gave her a shove. As the three other women went to start looking for dresses, Airielle pulled out her phone to text Josh. 

To Josh❤️🫶🏽: any more surprises?  From Josh❤️🫶🏽oh beautiful, i got a whole bunch of shit up my sleeve  From Josh❤️🫶🏽 you havin a good time though?  To Josh❤️🫶🏽 Yes, thank you, best mani/pedi i ever experienced.  From Josh❤️🫶🏽: you deserve it. I’ll see you when you get back.

“Stop texting that man and come help us spend his money!” She heard Ashley yell out. And spend his money they did. She knew when Josh got his credit card statement later that month he would probably have a mini heart attack. 

“You sure yo’ eyes closed?” Josh questioned Airielle as he led her inside of the restaurant where her ‘surprise’ birthday dinner was. She wasn’t sure why she needed to be blind folded if she planned the dinner herself . 

“Yes Josh, my eyes are closed. I have a blindfold on Josh, I can’t see anything.” 

“Aight just checking”  She rolled her eyes under the blindfold and let him guide her where he wanted her to go. “Okay ready?” She nodded and he took off her blindfold. 

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” Airielle let out a gasp as she took in the room. They had completely transformed the private room to fit her aesthetic .

“Oh my god.” She whispered, looking around the room, a smile making a way onto her face.

“You like it?” Josh asked and Airielle could hear the uncertainty in his voice. She turned around to face him.

“I love it Josh.” She whispered, throwing her arms around his neck and bringing her mouth to his in a sweet and soft kiss, giggling at the chorus of ‘awe’s’ from her guest and a shout of ‘hands!’ from her dad when Josh let his hands slide down to her butt. Josh immediately removed his hands from her body and held them up causing the group to laugh.

This was the best birthday Airielle had had in years and it was all thanks to Josh. If this was what being loved by  him was like… she could get used it. 

AIRIELLEJONES

liked by uceyjucey, trinity_fatu and 193,000 others

AirielleJones : 30 never looked this good 🎂

view all comments

@uceyjucey: damn it's my birthday or urs? 🔥. (❤️ by author)

@user: green looks good on u sis!

@trinity_fatu: hey now! don't be tryna come for my green gig lol. HAPPY BIRTHDAY SIS!! ❤️😘 WE TURNIN UP TONIGHT! ( ❤️ by author)

@yasmine_jones: happy b-day fav ( ❤️ by author)

@ashley_reign : woah! ( ❤️ by author)

HELLO! SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG 🫣

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤

[cetaitlaverite]

Why All This Music?

Masters of the Air - Rosie Rosenthal x OC

masterlist is linked here <3

25. The Same Pain

Freddie hadn’t altogether planned to stay out massively late. True, she had told her parents not to wait up for her and Rosie when they left to go to the jazz club, but she was so tired even still from the stress of the last few weeks and they went out drinking so often back at base anyway that she figured they’d only stay a little while. The thing was, Rosie loved jazz and Freddie loved to dance, and there was nothing either of them loved more than spending time together. The club was dark and the music was loud and they spent all night wrapped up in each other on the dance floor, as smitten as they had ever been, as though their temporary break up had never happened at all.

They had never gotten to go out together without everyone there knowing who they were. The anonymity was fascinating to Freddie. They could spend all night kissing and no one would say a thing about it to them tomorrow morning because they’d never see any of them again. And it was so nice to just be normal. Freddie hadn’t felt normal since before the war. Though she’d worried that getting a taste of civilian life with Rosie would make her long for Daniel, she found that it didn’t at all. It made her long for a life with Rosie, a life after the war where they could go out every weekend and not have to wake up early every morning to work. Where they could sleep in the same bed and choose what they ate, and know that the hardest part of their days would be the time they spent apart.

It was all just so fun, so domestic and so thrilling because of it, that Freddie got a little bit more drunk than she’d been intending. But Rosie didn’t want to make a bad impression on her parents, in spite of how many times Freddie assured him that they already loved him, so he cut himself off after three beers.

Freddie, however, had more wine than either of them could recall. She was giggly and affectionate on the walk home.

Rosie had her perched in his arms as he walked them both back to her parents’ house. She’d been complaining that her feet were hurting, so he took her shoes off for her before they left the club and insisted on carrying her instead. Freddie’s arms were around his neck, her heels resting against his shoulder as she carried them in her hand, and she was resting her temple against his cheek, giggling softly every so often.

“Rosie,” she sing-songed, lifting her head to kiss his cheek. “Rosie, Rosie, Rosie.”

He chuckled to himself. “Yes, honey?”

Freddie was grinning as she pressed her lips against his cheek again. He must have been absolutely covered in her lipstick.

“Do you ever want me to call you Robert?” she asked, giggling even as she asked it. She kissed his cheek again and then his jaw, smiling as she nuzzled her nose into it.

“No,” Rosie said honestly, glancing down at her and stifling a laugh at how dopey she looked.

“Why not?” she wondered.

“Do you ever want me to call you Wilfrieda?” he shot back.

Freddie laughed loudly. Rosie cringed as he shot wary glances at the houses they passed.

“No,” she replied eventually. “That would be so weird.”

“There’s your answer,” Rosie said simply. He ducked his head to kiss the tip of her nose quickly before continuing on their way.

“You don’t look like a Robert to me,” Freddie went on thoughtfully.

“No?” he humoured her.

“No,” she decided. “You’re too much of a Rosie.” She pressed her forehead to his cheek, squeezing him around the neck. “You’re so cute I just wanna squeeze you all the time!” she exclaimed, pressing herself impossibly closer to him.

Rosie couldn’t help his laugh. “Fred, honey, you gotta be quiet, okay? People are sleeping.”

“I’m not even talking loud,” Freddie mumbled, but she quieted down nonetheless.

She was quiet for five minutes before Rosie realised she was sulking.

“Fred, darling,” he started.

She huffed and muttered something before moving to bury her face in his neck.

“Freddie, sweetheart,” he continued, trying to get her to look at him.

“What?” she said, her voice muffled where she was speaking into his neck.

“Don’t be mad at me,” he pleaded with her. He’d only just gotten back into her good books, and while he knew her drunken tantrum would end the second she went to sleep anyway, he really couldn’t stand to spend another second of his life with her upset with him.

“I want to drink warm milk when we get home,” Freddie decided in place of an appropriate response. “And I want more Dracula.”

Rosie grinned to himself. “I’ll warm you up some milk and read to you before bed, Fred, how’s that sound?”

“Perfect,” she declared. She lifted her head out of his neck to check on their progress home. She was smiling again now.

Sighing wistfully, Freddie let her head come to rest against Rosie’s face again. “I had so much fun tonight,” she told him.

Rosie’s smile widened. “Oh yeah? What was your favourite part?”

He could feel her start to grin and knew what she was about to say before she even opened her mouth. “When you tripped.”

He scoffed. “What is your obsession with me hurting myself?”

Freddie couldn’t hold in her raucous laughter a second longer. Out into the silence of the night burst forth a loud, hysterical laugh, and Rosie couldn’t find it within himself to hush her. They were just turning onto her street, now, anyway, evident only when he squinted to read the road sign they passed. This blackout made it so difficult to navigate at night.

“Almost there, sweetheart,” Rosie whispered to Fred as she quietened, tilting his head into hers for a moment before righting himself.

Freddie sighed. “I want to dance one more time.”

“Now?” Rosie wondered.

Freddie nodded. “No one’s here to see us.” Lifting her head, she gave him her best puppy dog eyes, channelling Earnie when he’d misbehaved but demanded a treat anyway. “Will you dance with me one more time, Rosie? We’ll be back at base this time tomorrow.” She smiled sadly. “I just want one more dance away from the war.”

Rosie’s gaze was soft. “But your feet…” He inclined his head towards where she was holding her shoes behind his shoulder.

“Oh.” Freddie frowned and then immediately smiled as an idea struck her. “You can dance for the both of us, can’t you, twinkle toes?”

Rosie shut his eyes resignedly with a quiet groan. “Fred…”

“Do a spin!” Freddie implored him, tightening her hold around his neck and grinning.

Rosie laughed and did as she said, taking care to watch his feet to make sure he didn’t slip and take the both of them down.

Freddie was giggling maybe a bit too loudly as he finished turning and started to lead them both in a dance, similar to the way they’d danced yesterday in her backyard. He was stepping the way he thought a man was supposed to step in a classical waltz, though undoubtedly doing a poor job of it, but it didn’t matter - Freddie’s entire face was lit up with joy, her eyes shining brighter than the stars above them.

"Wunderschön!" Freddie exclaimed as he danced for the both of them, pecking him on the cheek. “Rosie, du bist so ein toller Tänzer!”

Rosie laughed. “Fred, I can’t understand you, honey.”

Freddie sighed. “Es wäre so geil, wenn du Deutsch verstehen könntest.”

“Fred.”

“Rosie!” she chirped back to him, grinning.

“Freddie?” someone interrupted.

Both smiles dropped straight off of Freddie and Rosie’s faces. Standing in the doorway to the house next door, barely visible through the darkness, was Della, Daniel’s mother, in her dressing gown and slippers, her hair in tight rollers. Her eyes were squinted as she tried to make them out in the darkness, one of her hands clasped around the edge of the door and the other wrapped across her stomach.

Freddie had no idea what to say.

It was Rosie who found his voice first. “Sorry for waking you, ma’am.” He cleared his throat, more out of awkwardness than necessity, and adjusted his hold on Freddie to make sure she was still secure in his arms. It felt rude to be holding her like this in front of her dead boyfriend’s mother but she had no shoes on and he wasn’t going to risk hurting her feet.

Della’s eyes didn’t move from Freddie even as Rosie was speaking. The two of them stared at each other across the distance between them, one set of eyes uncertain, the other set hard.

“Daniel hated when you spoke that dirty language,” Della finally said. Her voice sounded deafening in the silence which had fallen, even though logically Freddie knew she’d been speaking much louder before.

Freddie’s face was entirely blank, her face entirely calm. She swallowed hard. “Daniel isn’t here.”

Rosie clutched her tighter to his chest, a silent bid for her to end this conversation here and pick it up again tomorrow if need be when she was sober.

“Because of the Germans,” Della answered Freddie, her voice steady and clear. “It’s their filthy language you’re speaking.”

“It’s my beautiful language I’m speaking,” Freddie corrected her sharply. “I’m half Austrian, Della, no matter how much you always tried to forget it.”

“You’re British,” Della argued. “Born in Oxford.”

“Raised in Vienna,” Freddie countered. “One parent British, yes, but the other Austrian.”

“Hitler is Austrian.”

“So is my father,” Freddie snapped. “My dad is a classical musician, a pianist. He taught me to play. He’s taught hundreds of gifted musicians to play beautiful music. He’s devoted his life to his art, and to his wife and his daughter. There isn’t a stain on him, not least for being Austrian.”

Della said nothing.

Freddie was watching her closely. “I could easily have been born in Vienna. If my dad had moved universities two years earlier I would have been. Would you have turned me away when Daniel first brought me home if I was entirely Austrian?”

“Maybe.”

“You would’ve saved me an awful lot of pain if you had.”

No emotion bloomed on Della’s face, just as it didn’t on Freddie’s. They may as well have been talking about the weather.

“You’d still be with him if he was around,” Della said after a short pause. “You’d be married to my Daniel. You wouldn’t be with him.” She gestured to Rosie, where he was still holding Freddie in his arms.

Now Freddie’s anger started to show. Her breath got heavier, her grip on Rosie tightened, and she sat up as straight as she could while he was holding her. “I wouldn’t have met Rosie at all if Daniel was still around.”

“But if you had,” Della countered.

“But I wouldn’t have,” Freddie snapped. “And he’s not. He’s gone.”

“But if he wasn’t.”

“He is!” Freddie cried, heedless of the rows of houses with sleeping people on either side of them. “You’re trying to make me choose and I won’t do it. I won’t. I loved Daniel. You know I did. You only make me prove it to you every Christmas by bringing out that cursed photo album, forcing me to look through it in front of you every year so you can satisfy yourself that I’m still grieving. But I love Rosie. I’m in love with him. I love him so much it hurts, because I worry he’ll bring me the same pain Daniel did. But it would be the same pain. I love him.” Her voice was heavy with stifled tears. “I love him,” she whimpered at last, turning her face to rest her forehead against Rosie’s cheek.

Rosie started the walk up to Freddie’s house, dutifully ignoring the woman still standing in the doorway next door watching them like she was about to start painting the scene from memory.

Freddie produced the key for him from his trouser pocket and he quickly unlocked the door. She pushed down the handle and Rosie pushed it open with his knee until Della’s voice rang out once more, obscenely loud in the quiet, making sure she was heard.

“He would hate you for this,” she said clearly, coldly. “Daniel would never forgive you for this.”

Rosie walked them both inside and set Freddie down but she stepped straight back outside, the concrete of the front doorstep icy cold beneath her bare feet. “He would,” she asserted, tilting her chin up defiantly. “He would forgive me.”

“He wouldn’t.”

“Yes,” Freddie said calmly. “He would. Because he loved me. This, what I have now, I would have wanted it for him. If it had been the other way around and I’d left him behind I would want it for him. I wouldn’t want him to waste his life lonely and afraid to love just because he’d had me once and lost me.”

Della shut the door on her. Freddie was sure she was crying. She didn’t know whether she cared and didn't much want to think about it.

Instead, she stepped inside the house and shut the door behind her. She placed her heels neatly on the floor by the door and then leaned her weight back on it so she could wipe the grit from the ground outside off her feet.

Rosie was waiting for her with hand outstretched, clearly unsure what to do with his face except for smile.

Smiling softly, sadly, back at him, Freddie took his hand and let him lead her to the kitchen, past the dogs in their beds in the living room who were mercifully still asleep.

Freddie sat at the kitchen table in silence while Rosie warmed up some milk for her. It was dark in here - the blinds were pulled down over the kitchen window but not over the back door, so they couldn’t turn any lights on because of the blackout. But the darkness outside had allowed Freddie’s eyes to adjust. She could still make out Rosie’s figure as he poured some milk into a saucepan and lit the stove.

Chewing on her bottom lip, staring into thin air, the conversation she’d just had playing over and over again in her mind, Freddie wasn’t sure how she was feeling. She’d expected to cry when she’d still been having it. She didn’t feel like crying now. There was an ache inside of her, an emptiness which would probably always be there. Rosie had filled most of it but there was a part of her heart which would always belong to Daniel, as much as Rosie owned the rest. But there wasn’t as much sadness in that hole anymore. All of the sadness, the pain, the sobbing, had been the love she had left over for Daniel which she hadn’t had time to express. Now there was Rosie and she loved him so much she’d never have enough time to express it, even if they lived a hundred years together, and she desperately hoped they would. So she loved him with all of her heart, the part which belonged to him and the part which belonged to Daniel, and without her even realising it the hurt had slowly faded away. There would always be an emptiness but there was no longer torment, agony, pain.

When Rosie set the glass of milk down in front of Freddie, she looked up at him with heavy eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly, watching as he sat down in the chair next to her. “I didn’t mean for it to come out that way.”

His eyebrows furrowed. He tilted his head as he looked at her. “What do you mean, honey?”

Freddie smiled ruefully. “That I love you. I didn’t mean to tell you that way. I wanted it to be a happy moment, not a sad one. And I wanted to say it to you, not to someone else.”

Rosie shook his head as if to assure her that it didn’t matter. There was a stupid smile on his face all of a sudden. “But you love me,” he said.

Letting out a breathy laugh, Freddie nodded. “Of course I do.”

“I love you too,” Rosie answered her, smiling widely. He leaned across the gap between them to kiss her lips, long and sweet. “I love you so much,” he breathed when he pulled back.

Freddie was grinning. “I think you mean that you love me so bad,” she corrected him teasingly. She was referring to what he’d said while drunk when she’d been angry at him after he’d decided to re-up. It was such an American thing to say but also so very endearing - Freddie’s heart had melted when he’d said it, not that she’d been able to show it at the time. But she wanted him to say that version now, when she could repeat it back to him.

Rosie chuckled softly, obviously recalling the event, too, though with palpable embarrassment. “I do,” he confirmed. “I love you so bad, Fred. So, so, so bad.”

“I love you too,” Freddie replied around a gentle smile. “So bad, Rosie. I love you so bad.” Lifting a hand to cup his cheek, she sighed and kissed his nose. “I know it must be awful for you to hear me talk about Daniel, but please know that I don’t think of you as a replacement. What I feel for you is different. I don’t love him more just because I lost him.”

Rosie nodded. “I know.” And he did know. One of the first things he’d truly loved about her was her capacity to love; her friends, her family, her dogs, music, poetry, flowers. She had nothing if not the biggest heart of anyone he’d ever met. If anyone was capable of having two loves of their life, two soulmates, and cherishing them both in equal measure, it was Freddie. “I love you.”

“Do you love me less because I loved him first?” Freddie breathed. Her eyes were just a little bit uncertain. Rosie thought she knew the answer but just needed to hear him say it.

“No,” Rosie reassured her. “I love every part of you, the part that Daniel took with him included. All the British, all the Austrian, all that you’ve given to me and all that you gave to him.”

Freddie smiled. It wasn’t the brightest smile she’d ever given him but, god, was it the most beautiful. Soft and delicate and full of emotion, the difficult ones and the happy ones, too. She smiled with all the depth of her affection for him, all the extent of her love. How could he ever doubt that she loved him when she smiled at him like that?

“Rosie,” Freddie breathed, rising from her chair to settle in his lap. “Rosie,” she whispered into his ear, pressing her lips to his neck.

“Fred,” Rosie mumbled as she started to kiss down into the collar of his shirt.

“I love you,” she whispered, starting to undo his buttons. “So bad. So, so bad.”

Rosie held her flush to him, halting her progression for the time being so he could kiss all the air out of her. “I love you so bad, Fred,” he said against her lips when they pulled back. “More than anything.”

“Don’t ever leave me,” Freddie breathed, tucking her nose up beside his.

Rosie shut his eyes, inhaling the smell of her, embracing the closeness. “I won’t,” he promised, running his hands up and down her back as she resumed undoing his buttons. “I promise, Fred,” he breathed, tugging at her dress. “I won’t.”

[thevoidscreams]

Sweet red wine

Chapter 1 Things get steamy as you help your favorite astartes experience more things. No smut yet but there's plenty of need. and kissing.

Pairing: my Blood Angel oc Cornelius X Reader

Another day, another list of chores to do. No matter how much you wanted to stay in bed. But that was life, especially if you were a serf to the Legiones Astartes. And here on the Sword of Baal there was a never ending stream of tasks that seemed to need doing. But by far the best task, in your humble opinion, was armor duty. Most of the marines liked to keep theirs on while you cleaned and polished those precious metal plates. And there was no marine better than Cornelius. He was a kind soul who was gentle and never abrasive towards the serfs, the same wasn't always true about the higher up aboard the ship. 

But what did that matter to you? He was also very noble and handsome and he let you alone polish his armor.

He said he favored the way you cleaned it over the others. But in truth it was just that he liked you. You would never shy away from him or act meek as you go about your tasks. Your bright smile always made his day just a bit better and he'd seek you out when he could, just to see it. And you spoke to him as you worked, sharing the latest bit of drama with him.

"Good morning Cornelius."

The space marine turned his head up and smiled.

"Hello." He returned and set aside the book he'd been reading.

"Are you done with all of your chores already?"

"I am. I did them as quickly as I could without leaving them unfinished. I need time to make sure I get your armor spotless after all."

Delighted, the marine sat still on his stool. Waiting for you to start. "So what's the recent drama?" 

Taking up your first rag you sighed dramatically.

"Well, someone took Andreus's bottle of cleaner from his cubby in the closet and he insists it's Lania. But she swears it's not her. But here's the thing, we've caught her doing it before. I tell you Cornelius, she's a cleaner thief. And "why?" You might ask. It's because she doesn’t want to go all the way down to the main supply closet and get a new one like the rest of us."

Cornelius nodded along and hmm'd at appropriate moments. The serf drama was almost always harmless squabbles triggered by someone being lazy and not quite pulling their weight. 

Cornelius refrained from chuckling so he wouldn't disrupt your work. His shoulders and torso were the first place you started. Top to bottom was key unless it was just a spot cleaning. He watched your hands work circles against his plates and allowed himself to almost become entranced by the sound of your voice, focusing on the meanings of every little word. He hadn't been to battle or to drink in a while. He could practically feel your pulse as you hovered near him. He knew he couldn't hurt you even as his fangs pricked at his lower lip. He'd have to drink soon. The hunger was so sharp. His gaze wandered. Traveling up your arm past your shoulder to your neck. Hidden behind the high collar of your shirt.

You shivered, your focus disrupted as you felt a chill run up your spine. The kind that you got when you saw picts of Tyranids or other monstrous xenos lifeforms. The pricking of fear of being stared down by something predatory. 

But that wasn't what Cornelius was. He wasn't a monster, he was an angel. A son of Sanguinius. Sure, you'd heard rumors about the legion in your years serving them. But those were stories….right? Older crew who'd been serfs much longer than you had warned you of bleeding around the Astartes of the blood angels legion. But it hadn't been an issue before. 

Suddenly you felt very self conscious, hyper aware of every movement your body made. Of every potentially sharp edge of his armor. However despite that, there was also an underlying thrill to it all. 

"Is everything alright?" 

You glanced up at his handsome face, smiling but still self conscious. 

"Yes, all is fine. I just want to do the best job I can."

He nodded, the fine curtain of wheat gold hair swaying as he continued to stare with those slate gray eyes.

Your heart thumped against your ribs. He really was so handsome. It was ridiculous.

Everyone knew the sons of Sanguinius were almost inhuman in their beauty, but most didn't actually desire them.

It was almost impossible for you to understand them. How could they not desire the Astartes around them? Your reason for feeling self conscious suddenly shifted and you felt the need to take a quick breather. But that might make him suspect something was off.

'Just keep working, just calm down.'

However, that was going to be hard to do with your panties soaked. Every moment a new fantasy would spring to your mind and the room seemed to grow warmer and warmer.

A gauntlet clad hand startled you as it came up to lift your chin, concerned gray pools scanning your face.

"Your face is very red. Are you sure?"

"Y-yeah." You squeaked, "just uh, feeling a bit warm is all."

"Oh, you should remove your shirt then, you're wearing another layer underneath, correct?"

True, you were, but only a tight under shirt that was keeping your chest secure so it wouldn't jiggle as you worked.

That made a whole new category of fantasies spring to life in your mind. But you did as he suggested, and the suddenness of cool air on sweaty skin helped a bit.

"How is that now?"

You nodded. "It's better."

You took up the rag again and applied fresh cleaner to the plates of ceramite.

The undershirt didn't leave much to the imagination, it was more of a cropped top.

Cornelius had begun to suspect that you were not being entirely truthful. Your heart was pounding and he could hear it. He could also smell the subtle shift in your hormones, his plate prevented you from seeing that it affected him too. Especially now that you were practically half naked behind such flimsy bits of cloth.

The Astartes reached for you again. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear with one red finger. The red of his armor was so striking against your skin. It reminded him of blood, and of urges he was too ashamed to admit. Not even the chaplain understood, when he'd mentioned having urges he'd simply chalked it up to the thirst. But this wasn't like the red thirst or the ever present threat of the rage. This was different and his brothers seemed oblivious to this need. It felt wrong but also so incredibly human. It made him feel like a teen again. In those times long passed before he'd been taken up and raised above most of his fellow humans. He remembered seeing the pretty girls around him and feeling this warmth. This need. His secret shame was feeling it for you, his favorite serf. His favorite human.

You were pretty, more than that even. He wasn't blind, he knew what most people would consider attractive, but he was terribly inexperienced with women. He and all his brothers were, after all it wasn't his job to seek comfort or pleasure. He was the emperor's righteous fury, the light in the endless darkness. But oh how he wished for just a short time he could be the one protected by another's light. It's why he insisted on you, his favorite serf, coming everyday to polish his armor. To touch him and fill him with that light. 

Your small wide eyes searched his expression for some explanation as to his sudden touches. But he just smiled and pulled you in close with one large arm. You practically fell into his lap as his arms encircled you. Your heart fluttered like a bird caught in a cage.

"Cornelius?" The sound of your voice was so small and unsure of what to make of this.

"I-i am sorry." He stammered, "I do not know what came over me. I just needed.." needed what exactly? He couldn't say, but holding your small form on his lap felt like a step in the right direction. But he wasn't sure how to proceed.

What he knew of affection, or at least the affection that wasn't platonic between his brothers and himself, was the few brief glances he'd seen of the human crew sharing intimate moments. Touches, kisses, and such. He knew what sex was, of course, he wasn't stupid, but he'd never touched a woman.

His cheeks grew hot. Not that that was going to happen, not without you wanting it too. He'd never force that on to anyone. But oh how he longed to know what that kind of passion felt like.

Cornelius was startled out of his contemplation by the touch of your bare hand on his cheek. "Are you feeling okay? You're acting very strange."

His hands felt unusually shaky as they trailed up and down your back.

How should he say this? What if he scared you off? Or even scarier still, what if he didn't. He wasn't sure what he was more afraid of.

"I want…" He scolded himself for not having the words. "I want to, uh.." He wanted to do the things he'd seen with you. To hold and kiss you and, oh Emperor preserve him, to do even more if possible. His plates would have to come off for that. 

"To? I need you to tell me Cornelius, I want to help you." 

His expression turned bashful and you were surprised to see him blush.

"Kiss me!...please. I want you to kiss me. The way others do. The way…lovers do." His confession was abrupt and it left you feeling like your brain had just fallen out of your head.

"Kiss? Like us, kissing?.. Yeah I think I can. I've never kissed an Astartes before. Am I even allowed to do this?"

Cornelius shrugged, there were no rules against Astartes having physical relations, at least none he knew of. And besides, it'd just be a kiss. At least to start out it would be.

Well, nothing to it, but to do it, as your mother used to say. Trembling you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek to start. You'd need to work your way up to actually claiming his lips. His skin was smooth and firm, like a marble statue. But it felt nice, so you kissed his cheek again, this time closer to his lips, but not quite.

Cornelius could feel frustration and some other unnamed feeling rising in him. But he made himself content with holding you and letting you work at your own pace.

You hadn't been anticipating being in a make out session with your favorite space marine. But it wasn't the worst turn of events.

Gathering your courage you, taking his cheek in your hand, pressed a kiss to his lips.

Cornelius had to fight the urge to tighten his grip on you. It was like clicking a piece of a puzzle into place. As your lips pressed sweetly to his, he wasn't sure what to do next. He let out a soft groan of frustration as you pulled away and looked at him.

"Is this your first time kissing?" You asked, serious in your inquiry, but not in a mocking manner.

"Yes." Cornelius felt an unusual pang of worry. Had it been that bad that it was so obvious.

"Okay, well I know where to start off then. When you kiss there are a few ways to go about it." Your cheeks bloomed with red. 

"How should we go about it?" The Astartes seemed almost excited. "Well that depends on what you want or like."

Cornelius sighed and looked around the room, as though the ornate walls would hold the answer to the question.

Gingerly he picked you up, it was an odd feeling for you both. For you it was odd to be carried around as though you weighed nothing. And for him it was the pleasant feeling of having you in his arms.

He walked the short few paces to his cot and set you there. The material wasn't quite comfortable but it was no less unpleasant than the mattresses in the serfs quarters.

He doffed his armor rather quickly, returning to the cot as eager as you'd ever seen him.

"May we begin?" His lower body was warmer than yours, pleasantly so, you noted. "Sure."

He scooted closer, waiting for you to continue. You cleared your throat and went on. "You mentioned kissing the way lovers do. But that doesn't narrow it down so much."

Cornelius's fingers drummed on the cot. Perplexed. "Perhaps you could show me the way you like to be kissed, and we could move from there?" He suggested.

That was doable. You stood to straddle his lap, his hands came up to cup your rump and back.

Shivers of delight accompanied the touch. Cornelius leaned down his lips brushing over yours happily, you kissed him back, pressing in with tender need. Your hands came to rest on his cheeks as your touches and kissing became more eager.His lips were softer than they looked, perfectly warm and pliable. They melded together with yours as if they were made to. It sent tingles of pleasure up and down your spine and you moaned softly into the kiss. Cornelius pulled away startled by the sound. “Are you alright? I didn’t injure you in my excitement, did I?” His steely eyes were so sincere it stopped any laugh you might have produced. “No, Cornelius, it just felt..” you grasped for a way to describe it without being too lewd. “Very good. It felt so good I couldn’t help myself.” This seemed to lighten his mood again and he pulled you back in, closing the distance between the two of you. Everything about him was intoxicating and getting lost in him would be so easy to do. His lips caressed yours, tender and allowing you to take the lead again. Which you did with much enthusiasm. A natural rhythm was worked out silently as you both grew more confident. The sensation of it all was electric and left you feeling even more needy as your hands roamed up to glide through his soft golden locks. His own hands began to explore your sides and hips and even your thighs. Squeezing with gentle pressure, as he moaned into the kiss.

Time seemed to slip by as the two of you stayed in each other's embrace, lips locked in with amorous intent. “Cornelius..” You sighed breathless as you came apart to breathe. As you did he leaned down to press his forehead to yours. “That was wonderful, thank you.” He smiled and relaxed into you. “Was it everything you hoped it would be?” You nuzzled his nose with yours, the differences between the two of you completely forgotten. “It was, thank you. We will have to do this again.” He assured you. It made a deep excitement bloom in your chest.

“I would like that very much.” You replied, as he kissed your forehead. He sighed in relief and found that strangely his hunger was far less severe than it had been before and made a mental note of it. He’d have to have this special time with you more often.

When you left he got back up and donned his armor again the red thirst was slated strangely enough but as he dwelt on it during his meditation he felt a different urge surfacing. It was hot and distracting. He’d have to make a note to ask you about that the next time he saw you.

[mrprettywhenhecries]

❝ A Series of Firsts ❞

an oc x oc collaboration between @super-unpredictable98 / @hawkinsglasscloset and myself, part of our Stranger Timeline'verse, written for @ockissweek.

❧ w.c. 3.8k words ❧ warning(s). oc x oc pairing, children of oc x canon pairings, none really ❧ a/n. features Flor and I's fandom children ocs: Joseph "Joey" Hargrove (Billy & Win's son) and Melody Munson (Eddie & Lydia's daughter)

✧✦ First Kiss, Christmas 1997 ✦✧

Joey huffed a laugh. “You don’t think we’re a little old to play house?” he asked, grinning at his best friend.

"We're only nine..." Melody protested. "Eric from drama likes to play house with me," she pouted, feeling a little embarrassed. "What do we play when we're nine?"

Joey frowned, his stomach doing a little flip. “Oh…” he murmured, suddenly feeling jealous. “We can play,” he amended quickly, changing his mind.

"Are you sure?" Melody insisted, looking at him with her big brown puppy eyes and Joey let out a sigh.

"Yeah, I'm sure," he murmured, his cheeks warming slightly as she grabbed his hand and pulled him to the playroom.

"Okay! So, I'll be the wife, and I'm coming back from working all day as a music teacher!" she exclaimed excitedly.

"Uhm, I guess I'll be the husband, and I'm making you some dinner," Joey replied, going to stand behind the kitchen playset.

Melody got a little purse from her pile of toys and pretended to walk into the house. She walked up to Joey and gave him a little kiss on the cheek. "Hello, darling, what are you making us today?" she asked.  

Joey blinked, his face warming. “Uhhh-uhm, I’m making lasagna,” he said, grabbing the first little plastic food he saw.

"That's my favorite! You're the best husband in the world," Melody exclaimed, sitting down at the little table nearby, not even noticing the faint blush on his cheeks.

“Thanks, I’m glad you like it,” Joey said, putting the piece of plastic lasagna on a plate and setting it in front of her with some plastic utensils. “Want some wine to go with that?” he asked, pretending to pour some from the fake bottle.

"Yes, thank you!" Melody took a sip of her 'wine' and pretended to eat her dinner. "I think it's time for us to have a baby! I'm getting old and soon I won't be able to have babies, so we should do it!" she announced suddenly and Joey's eyes went wide.

"What?" he exclaimed. "I-I mean, how would we even... do that?" 

Melody frowned for a moment. "I don't know really, but you need to give me a seed and I'll swallow it, then the baby grows in my belly."

"Ohhhh," Joey mused. "I thought there was more to it.... like kissing. That's what my parents do," he said, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Maybe we should kiss, my parents do that as well. I think all married couples do," Melody said, leaning in to press the softest peck to his lips. 

It happened to be the moment Joey's father walked past, catching sight of them them through the open door and backed up, trying to stifle an amused laugh. Not wanting to startle them, he knocked instead, leaning casually through the open door. "Hello, you two."

Joey jumped at his dad's voice, his brows leaping up. "Yeah? What is it?" he yelped, quickly pulling away from Melody, definitely not pouting.

"It's dinner time, bud, don't forget to wash your hands," Billy said, opened the door a little more, trying not to smirk.  

"Ah... okay," Melody replied, frowning a little.

"Guess we hafta go," Joey mumbled, glancing at her awkwardly. 

"We can play again soon," she assured him, taking his hand as they headed to the bathroom sink. 

"Okay," he agreed, wondering if she ever kissed Eric from drama class when they played house.

Melody smiled, she'd never ever kissed a boy before, but she didn't want Joey to know that... 

✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦

As usual, the children won the war against their parents and they started opening their Christmas presents earlier than midnight. Right after dinner, everyone reunited around the fireplace to open their gifts and drink some tea with gingerbread biscuits. 

"Aaaah! We can play doctor now!" Melody exclaimed, looking at her friend's new medical kit with all sorts of colorful tools.

“Yeah! Can we go play, Mom, Dad?” Joey asked, hoping to pick up where they left off.

"Go ahead," Billy nodded, exchanging a look with his wife. "But remember to be careful, playing is only nice when you're both enjoying it..."  

"Okay!" Melody exclaimed, following her best friend to her bedroom with her new dolls in hand.

"First it's your turn to be the doctor and my turn to be the patient," Joey said, handing her the doctor's bag. "I think I've broken my arm," he exclaimed, clutching one of his arms to his chest.

"Oh no! Here, I'll put a cast on so it can heal properly," she looked at the fake X-ray and wrapped his arm with one of her scarves "Do you need a kiss to feel better?" she asked, gently kissing the back of his hand.

"Yes, please," Joey said, holding his breath as he waited for her to place a peck to his lips as well.

Melody let out a giggle before pressing a soft kiss to his lips just as the door was opening, not that she noticed. "You're all better now!" she announced.

Win bit her lip as she watched, her heart warming a little at the sight. "Hey kids," she murmured, knocking a little louder and Joey jumped, his cheeks flushing hotly.  

"What Mom?" he exclaimed, practically jumping away from Melody for the second time. 

"It's time to head home sweetheart. We'll see Lo tomorrow okay?" she said, ruffling his golden curls.

"Tomorrow you get to be the doctor," Melody said before giving him a hug. "Let's go say bye to everyone." 

✧✦ Spin the Bottle, 2001 ✦✧

"I'm not playing," Melody said decidedly when Joey suggested they play spin the bottle at his birthday party.

"What? Why not?" he exclaimed, frowning as he studied his best friend's features as they sat in the backyard. "C'mon Lo, don't be a party pooper," he huffed, polishing off the rest of the soda from his bottle to use.

"But I'm saving myself for David Tennant," she insisted, rolling her eyes.

Lately her parents had started to make little jokes about her dating Joey. They thought it was natural since the two had grown up together as best friends, spending nearly all their time together.

"Isn't he a little old for you?" Joey teased, setting the bottle on the table as the rest of his friends gathered around. He nearly mentioned that he'd already stolen her first kiss, even if they were just kids who didn't really know what they were doing.

"Age is just a number, in five years I'll be eighteen and he'll be... thirty six, it won't make a difference," she said with a shrug, reluctantly joining the others.

"I thought you said you weren't playing?" he pointed out, raising an eyebrow at her.

"I'm not, but I'll watch. I'm not gunna do anything stupid."

Joey frowned, but quickly wiped the sour expression from his face. "Suit yourself," he muttered. "Who wants to go first?"

"Think you should, you're the birthday boy," one of the girls from their class exclaimed, smiling shyly at him. 

"Yeah, go for it, Joey!" one of his mates agreed, clapping him on the back. 

"Alright, if you insist," he said with a grin, giving the bottle a good spin.

Melody's eyes narrowed when the other girl encouraged him. He was popular and handsome, probably the most handsome boy in their class, all the girls wanted to date him. And while she obviously wasn't interested in dating him herself, she still got angry when those attention seekers would throw themselves at him.

When the bottle finally stopped, it was pointing at her and she froze.

Joey's eyes traveled up from the bottle to Melody and his brows raised. 

"You sure you don't wanna play?" he asked, wetting his lips expectantly, hoping she'd change her mind. As much as he liked some of the other girls in their class, there was always something about her that made his heart give a stutter, not that he wanted her to know that--to know the extent of his feelings. After all, she'd made it pretty clear that she only liked him as a friend.

"Fine, I'll play," she mumbled, looking down as she tucked her hair behind her ears. "It's not a big deal, right? It's just a kiss."

"Yeah, no big deal," he repeated faintly, leaning over the table halfway, waiting for her to bridge the rest of the gap.

Melody felt her heart racing the closer she got to Joey. She hoped he couldn't sense it or hear it, because for her it was really loud. She didn't like him in that way... she was so sure of it... but she couldn't keep the blush from her cheeks when their lips finally touched.

Joey's eyes slipped shut as he kissed her, forgetting for the moment that they were in the middle of his party, wishing he could keep kissing her when she quickly pulled away and his eyes snapped open, his stomach dropping like a block of ice had settled there.

She wanted to kiss him more, she couldn't stop thinking about how cute it was when he asked for a kiss when playing house back when they were young. She sat back down and brought her knees close to her chest, feeling like she somehow messed it up.

Joey’s mouth opened, but the words wouldn’t come, and one look at Melody made him feel like he’d messed up big time; he should’ve never made her play. 

“Earth to Joey! It’s my turn,” the girl who’d urged him to go first exclaimed, grabbing the bottle and giving it a spin, gasping excitedly when it slowly stopped in front of him. “Looks like we get to kiss,” she said, wearing a giddy grin, and he finally blinked, turning to focus on her. 

“Oh, right, okay,” he said, leaning in to press his lips to hers. 

Melody watched and out of nowhere, she felt like she was about to cry. She felt her eyes fill with tears, but she couldn't do that in front of everyone. 

"What, Dad?" she called, pretending like she heard her father calling. "I'll be right back, keep going," she muttered, slipping out of her seat to run to her father and far from view, hugging him tightly as she began to sob in his arms.

Joey frowned at his friend’s sudden disappearance, staring after her. He didn’t exactly want to play anymore, but his friends were enjoying themselves, oblivious to his discomfort. 

“Baby, what’s the matter?” Eddie exclaimed, squeezing his daughter tight as she sobbed into his shirt. “What happened?” he asked, unable to keep the worry from his voice.

"I don't wanna say it out loud, I'm so dumb! Can we leave?" Melody whimpered quietly.

Nearby, Lydia thought about asking her daughter again what was wrong, saying she could tell them anything, but she knew her husband could handle it, and sometimes tween girls just had to cry and sort themselves out.

“Hey, you’re not dumb,” Eddie murmured, pulling back to wipe her tears with his thumbs. “Are you sure you wanna leave? It’s your best friend’s party,” he said gently.

"Just for a few minutes, we can come back to sing Happy Birthday," she mumbled, sniffling. They lived right next door, so it wouldn't be a problem.

“Okay sweetheart,” he agreed, straightening. “She wants to head home for a sec,” he said quietly to his wife. “I think she just wants to compose herself.”

"Alright, I'll let you guys know when the cake comes out," Lydia smiled sadly, stroking her daughter's dark curls before they crossed to their own yard.  

"If I tell you what happened, you and Mum will laugh at me," Melody whispered. 

“Never,” Eddie said seriously, shaking his head, his long hair swaying.

"I kissed Joey for spin the bottle, but I was embarrassed so I pulled away and then he looked sad and then this other girl spun and she kissed him and I felt really bad," she exclaimed, her words rushing out before she hid against her father's chest once more.

“Oh kiddo, I’m sorry. Have you considered that you feel bad because you like Joey?” he asked gently, rubbing her back soothingly.

"I don't know..." she murmured, still not wanting to admit it to herself. "I didn't think I should, but I felt weird when I kissed him."

"Weird, how?" 

"Weird like... I didn't want it to end."

Eddie chuckled softly. "Sounds like maybe you like Joe more than you think. But you're still young, you never know what's gunna happen," he said, smoothing her hair. 

"Hey, is everything alright? I saw you guys leaving. Is Lo not feeling well?" Win exclaimed, hurrying over to check on them. 

"Yeah, she started feeling sick and wanted to lay down for a sec," Eddie said.

"You poor thing," Win murmured, patting Melody's shoulder.

"I just have a headache, I'll be out for the cake, Aunt Winnie," she assured her, smiling sadly. "Don't tell Joey, I don't want him to worry."

"I won't, sweetheart, you go rest, okay?" Win said, offering her an apologetic smile.

Melody nodded and sat on the couch with her father, curled up like when she was a little kid. "You're right, we still have time, I guess."

✧✦ Make Out Spot, 2005 ✦✧

"Daaaaad, get the door, it's Joey," Melody yelled from her bedroom as she was getting ready.

"Yeah yeah," Eddie grumbled, rolling his eyes as he pushed up off the couch to open the door. "You know you coulda just come in, like you usually do," he chuckled, stepping aside for Joey to come in. 

"Oh, uh yeah, I guess," the young man mumbled, running his hand awkwardly through his golden blonde hair. "It just kinda feels different now that I'm datin' Lo, y'know?" he said and Eddie clapped him on the shoulder. 

"You trying to make a good impression or something? Not like we haven't known you all your life," he joked.

"Of course he's gotta make a good impression, I taught him well," Billy chuckled, following his son in.

"A better impression than you made with my dad," Win joked.

"Hey, Joey!" Melody called as she left her bedroom all dolled up for their date.

Many years passed since his birthday party. Well, actually only four and a half, but it felt like much longer.  

"Lo!" Joey exclaimed, brightening, his lips pulling into a wide grin. "You look amazing," he breathed.

"Aww look how pretty you two are," Lydia cried, grabbing her Nokia to take a photo.

"So do you!" Melody ran to give him a hug. "We should get going, we'll miss the movie and... all that."

"Yep, see you guys later," Joey called to their parents as he led his girlfriend to the door.

"Can you drive us to that street where nobody can see us?" She whispered.

"Yep," Joey whispered back with a small smirk, opening his car door for her.

Melody got inside and placed her hand on his thigh as soon as he joined her. "I missed you, babe."

"Missed you too," he drawled, grinning at her. "We're not really going to the movies are we?" he asked, pulling away from the curb to head to their usual make out spot.

"Maybe later. There's something I wanna do first..." she smirked, playing with his golden curls.

"Oh? Like what?" he asked, glancing at her as he drove, heat rushing through him at the look she gave him.

"I don't know, just... talk," she whispered and pressed a kiss to his cheek. She slowly dragged her lips along his jaw then down to his neck. "Like that."

"Ohhh, I see," he breathed, swallowing thickly, shifting slightly in his seat against the tightening in his jeans, quickly pulling off the street to park under the flyover where they'd be hidden from view. "I like the sound of that," he said, putting the car in park and turning in his seat to catch her lips.

Melody climbed into his lap while they kissed. She couldn't even imagine how silly she was to ever deny her feelings for Joe. "You're so handsome, I can't deal."

"Aren't you just adorable?" he chuckled, moaning as he pushed his seat back to give her more room, his hands sliding down her back to grasp her ass.

"I love you," she murmured in between kisses. "I'll never waste any time not kissing you again."

“Love you too, beautiful,” he groaned, his lips moving against hers, parting to flick his tongue against the inside of her teeth. “What brought this on?” he asked, catching his breath.

"Just feel like I wasted a long time not kissing you. We could've been kissing for years... but I was stubborn."

Joey chuckled, tucking one of her dark curls behind her ear. “You just had to make me fight for it,” he teased, nibbling at her bottom lip. 

"It was pretty cute to watch you fight for it..." Melody admitted. "You're so romantic, I just couldn't resist."

“I always knew I wanted you to be mine,” he whispered, fixing every curve of her face into his memory. “I just had to prove it to you first,” he teased, kissing her deeper. “And it was worth it,” he added, nuzzling the tip of his nose against hers.

"It was," she agreed before wrinkling her nose at him. "You always knew? Even when we were little?" she laughed, wrapping her arms around him.

“Well,” he hesitated, chuckling sheepishly. “At least since that very first kiss, when we were playing house,” he admitted. “It was then I decided I wanted to marry you for real.”

"Awww Joeeey! That's the cutest thing I've ever heard! I told my dad that night that I wanted to be with you... I said some other stuff too, but it's not important."

“What other stuff?” He asked, his brows raising curiously as he tickled her sides, mischief sparkling in his clear blue eyes.

"Well... I said it would either be you or David Tennant, that I wanted to wait and see who would win," she laughed and squealed, squirming in his grasp.

“You little tart!” he gasped, laughing along with her. “I can’t believe I almost lost to him!”

"Naaah he's handsome and really nice, but he's Aunt Blossom's best friend, it would be weird..." she said to wind Joey up as if that was the only decisive factor. 

“Oh, that’s the only reason?” he exclaimed, pouting up at her. 

"No, silly. You're the one I really like, you're the most handsome, cutest boy to ever exist and I love you. Not anyone else, just you."

His expression softened. “I love you too, Lo, and I always will,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to hers.

✧✦ First Kiss as Husband and Wife, 2008 ✦✧

The doors to the venue opened and the sun flooded the open hall. Melody stood there in her white princess dress, arm locked with her father's.  

"She's beautiful, isn't she?" Billy whispered to his son as they stood at the altar.

“More beautiful than anything I’ve ever seen,” Joey breathed, unable to tear his eyes away from her, emotion catching in his throat and tearing in his eyes. 

"Just wait until you have your first baby," Billy chuckled, rubbing his son's shoulders. 

“You ready, sweetheart?” Eddie asked, leaning in to whisper in his daughter’s ear.

"Yes, Daddy," Melody nodded as they made their way down the aisle. "This is so much more perfect than I could've wished for."

Joey nearly lost it at the thought, quickly breathing in sharply and blinking the moisture from his eyes as his bride approached him. He felt like his heart was about to beat out of his chest. 

“You deserve it and more,” Eddie murmured, kissing her cheek as they stopped in front of the groom and he reluctantly let her step away from his side.

"We are gathered here today to celebrate the love of Melody Charlotte Munson and Joseph William Hargrove, two lovers who have chosen each other since they could understand what love is. Now the bride and groom have chosen to read their own vows," the officiant said, gesturing to the two of them. 

Melody took a deep breath, turning to slip her hands in his, her eyes finding his and holding them. "Joey, I've heard that vows are not made to say how much you love someone because they likely already know. Vows are the promises you will keep during the marriage, and I have a few.

"I promise that I'll always leave you the last slice of pizza. I promise to take care of you when you're sick, to hold your hand when something scary is coming. I promise to never let you forget how much you matter to me and how handsome you are. I promise to be there on the bad days and good days, fighting or celebrating. Every moment from now on, it'll be us, just us," Melody said, smiling warming at him, her heart in her throat.

Joey’s lip trembled softly as he fought not to break down, his chest aching with affection and he squeezed her hands, looking into her eyes. “And I vow to always be there for you whether you need me or you wanna be the strong one. I promise to always make you feel beautiful and know that you’re loved, even if we’re fighting. You’ve always been my best friend and I want us to always be friends as well as lovers,” he said, taking a steadying breath as his voice nearly wavered.

The Officiant nodded, smiling as she turned back to Melody.

"Melody Charlotte Munson, do you take Joseph William Hargrove as your husband to love and cherish as long as you both shall live?"  

"I do," she said, sliding the wedding ring onto his finger.  

"Joseph William Hargrove, do you take Melody Charlotte Munson as your wife to love and cherish as long as you both shall live?"

"I do," he exclaimed, his face breaking into a beaming smile as he slipped her ring onto her finger. "Does this mean I can finally kiss her?" he asked, flashing the officiant an eager grin.

"I now declare you husband and wife. Go ahead, you may kiss the bride," she chuckled.

Melody let out a little scream and jumped into her husband's arms, kissing him as if it was the first time. Joey smiled against her lips, holding her tightly against him as he kissed her back. He barely registered the cheers and applause from the audience as they embraced.

"Finally..." she breathed. "Mr. Hargrove, I love you." 

“What a coincidence, I love you, Mrs. Hargrove,” he replied, pressing his forehead to hers as he stared into her eyes. “I’ve waited so long to be able to call you that,” he chuckled.

"Now we get to play house for real!" she whispered. "And maybe later we can play some other interesting games..."

Joey smirked. “Now that sounds like fun. I’d love to hear what you have in mind,” he drawled, stealing another kiss before turning to wave at their friends and family.

❧ taglist. @elliethesuperfruitlover @b1tchywheeler @heartbreak-sandwich @babydollbaron

[emotionalcadaver]

Part 19: In the Bleak Midwinter

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Grace Burgess x OC

Summary: Tatiana wants to show them something.

Word Count: 6,988

Notes: Warnings for depictions of smut, including a threesome and choking.

Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Chapter

Chapter 21: The Ghost

They wound up in an ornate room, surrounded by people fucking.

Lively music was being played by a group of musicians set up near one wall. Tatiana led them through the room, weaving past naked, writhing bodies to an unoccupied couch. She gestured for Tommy to sit, and he slumped down into it, grabbing a glass of whiskey from the table and leaning into one corner of the chaise. 

Before Lucy could move towards him, Tatiana darted forward, cutting her off and sidling into the spot beside him, resting half atop his chest and half against his side with her legs curled up next to her, leaving next to no room left on the couch. Lucy blinked, taken aback. Her nails bit into her palms as she fought to keep her annoyance wiped off her face. The smirk Tatiana shot her was just proof she was only trying to get a rise out of her. 

The Russian was still on thin ice in Lucy’s mind after what she’d done to Arthur. She may be working with them, far closer than any of the other members of her family, but that didn’t mean Lucy had to like her.

It did, however, mean that they needed to play nice. It would be disastrous to get on her bad side this far along into the plan. 

Lucy sighed, stepping around the table in front of the chaise, eyes fixed on the space on the floor in front of Tommy’s legs. No point in trying to force Tatiana to move.  

Tommy’s brow creased, clearly taking note of the action as well. His jaw ticked, and when she took a step closer he sat up, coiling the arm not holding his drink around her waist.  

“I can just sit on the floor…” she started, even as she let him draw her in closer. 

“The hell you are,” Tommy grumbled under his breath, pulling her into his lap. She wound up seated across his thighs, legs spread out atop Tatiana’s, and her back resting on the armrest of the couch. Grabbing a drink from a passing waiter, she hooked an arm around Tommy’s shoulders for stability while he leaned back, getting situated with one arm sliding around Tatiana, and the other, still holding his glass, around Lucy. She sighed contentedly, head lolling against his shoulder. If Tatiana was annoyed at Tommy’s solution to their lack of space, she didn’t show it. If anything, she looked mildly amused, balancing a wine glass brought to her by a waiter in one hand and a cigarette in the other. 

Around them, it was madness. John was dancing with two other men near the musicians, the three of them tumbling to the floor with laughter. Behind her, Tommy downed his glass of whiskey. She took it from him, leaning forward to grab the bottle on the table and pour him another, taking the opportunity to refill her own glass too. His fingers circled along her shoulder as she did, sending shivers along her spine. The sounds and smell of sex around them was making her light headed. It was hard to know where to look. Just about everywhere, there were people in various positions of debauchery. 

“I’ve never been to an orgy before,” she said softly, drinking deeply from her glass. The closest she’d come had been a foursome with Tommy and two girls after the Garrison reopened. Tommy turned his head, pressing open-mouthed kisses to her neck that made her shiver. She craned her head up to look at him. “Is it impolite to stare?”

He raised his eyes away from where they’d been fixed on her pulse point to sweep his deep blue gaze across the room. He shrugged.

“They’re out here, in the open…” he wetted his lips. “Maybe they want to be watched,” his voice lowered huskily.

“Mm,” Lucy hummed, allowing herself to fully take in the scene around them. Naked skin and echoing moans. Laughter. 

It was loud and chaotic. The amount of sensory information to take in was overwhelming. Perhaps under other circumstances, she could have allowed herself to enjoy it. But not tonight. She was too on edge from what Tatiana had done earlier, and here, in this place, where they were surrounded by enemies, she could not find it in herself to fully relax. 

She drained another glass of whiskey and let Tommy refill it, pressing a kiss to his collarbone in thanks. He smelled nice, and she opened her mouth to ask him if he’d reapplied some of his expensive cologne between them leaving the treasury and coming here, but he chose that moment to skim his fingertips lightly along the curve of her breast. All of the whiskey–too much, she’d probably already had far too much–had addled her brain. 

“I think I’m drunk,” she whispered into his ear, burrowing against him. 

“Mm,” he kissed her curls. “Me too,” he coaxed her closer to his chest. “It’s okay.”

She nodded. Drunk or not, Tommy would never let anything bad happen to her.   

From across the room, she spotted a maid taking Arthur by the hand, pulling him to his feet and leading him away.     

“Looks like Arthur found himself a maid,” Lucy mumbled, lips grazing the underside of Tommy’s jaw when she tilted her head up to look at him. He just hummed in acknowledgement. He felt tense beneath her, be it from the activities of the day, Tatiana still curled into his side, or just general stress, she couldn’t be sure. Leaning back deeper against him, she nuzzled at his throat, and he let out a small breath, chest relaxing ever so slightly with it. 

“My aunt only employs the best whores,” Tatiana sat up, leaning away slightly to look at them properly. Tommy tilted his head back, bringing his cigarette to his lips. Lucy ignored the duchess, continuing to snuggle into Tommy’s neck, trying to soothe him. He closed his eyes, purring low in his chest to encourage her to keep going.

“How did you feel when I held him?” Tatiana asked. That had Lucy’s eyes snapping to her, jaw clenching around the words she would have liked to have spat in response to that little stunt Tatiana had pulled. “You were jealous,” she continued, before either of them could respond. Tommy’s brows furrowed, eyes opening and head lifting. “You wanted to kill me. Or him. No?”

“I think you’re overestimating how much we care about you, love,” Lucy said, and while she kept her voice light, from the way Tatiana’s eyes snapped to hers, and her smirk settled, she could tell she’d heard the intended bite beneath them.

Tommy brought his cigarette to his lips, slowly, as if to buy himself time to formulate his words in his mind before he spoke them.  

“Why do you play games with people when there is no benefit to you?” he asked, finally. Lucy’s eyes darted between them, gaging Tatiana’s reaction. It was a subtle slap, but a slap nonetheless. One that said, I see no use for you outside our business together. What good would my jealousy, or my anger, be to you, when there is nothing more between us?

Tatiana did not look hurt, rather there was something more relaxed, almost vulnerable, in her face. 

Lucy wondered if perhaps she found it refreshing that despite Tommy’s attraction, he still remained relatively unaffected by her. He was not interested in her games. Nor was he about to fall over himself to kiss her feet like Lucy imagined so many must have before him. And he would not fall in love with her. Even sex was but a simple transaction. 

It was just business. 

“In Russia, because we were bored. In England, because we don’t know how to stop.”

Lucy figured that might have been the most honest and genuine Tatiana had ever been with them. 

And then, the mask was back in place. “At least there are silly games and orgasms.”

Tommy blinked, slow. “So let’s fuck.”

Tatiana looked momentarily taken aback. “Here?”

Lucy shifted uncomfortably, the fine hairs on the back of her arms raising. The idea of being so exposed, with so many other people around…

Tommy glanced at her, hand landing on her hip and thumb rubbing circles into her skin, shaking his head. “No, in a darker place.”

She relaxed, shooting him a thankful look. Without a word, Tatiana stood, adjusting her shawl. She held out a hand, helping Lucy hop from Tommy’s lap. Her long fingers slid along the expanse of Lucy’s arm, smirking and fluttering her lashes at her before letting her go to take Tommy’s hand and pull him to his feet. He swiped the remaining bottle of whiskey as he rose and looped the arm, still holding the bottle, around Lucy’s shoulders. 

As they began to follow Tatiana out of the room, dodging the writhing bodies surrounding them, he glanced at her. You alright with this?

She shrugged. Blinked at him. We’ve already done this once with her before. 

The hand around her shoulders squeezed as they rounded a corner. He had to let her go when they came to a narrow doorway, following Tatiana through it with Lucy right behind him. Tatiana looked over her shoulder at them, mischievous smile in place, and took Tommy’s hand, beginning to drag him along through the narrow, ornate hallways.

Just as they got to another doorway, Tommy gave Tatiana a firm tug on her hand, turning her around and pulling her into his front, arms wrapping around her waist as he kissed her. Tatiana indulged him only for a moment before pulling away, unraveling her shawl from around her shoulders and leading the rest of the way into a dimly lit room. Tommy took a hefty swig from the bottle still held in his hand, offering it to Lucy once he was done. The liquid burned as she gulped it down, Tommy’s hand on her shoulder helping to nudge her the rest of the way into the room before he closed the door. 

In the fireplace, orange and yellow flames roared brightly. The room was decorated with deep red rugs. Candelabras, lit and unlit, were scattered about. Red candles flickered, the light they cast seductive and ominous. A table, lined with photos and candles, was pressed up against one wall, like an altar.  

Tommy half lunged at Tatiana, kissing her roughly and backing her into the wall with a thud. Lucy felt her heartbeat pick up as she watched them kiss and wrestle for control, the sounds of their heavy breathing and the wet smack of their lips against each other making her core flutter.

Taking a few wobbly steps forward, she plastered herself to Tommy’s back, arms wrapping around his middle and lips pressing to the nape of his neck. His breathing grew more labored, breaking his kiss with Tatiana to dip his head to nuzzle along her cleavage. Tatiana raised her dark eyes to Lucy, head tilting forward to peck her on the lips. When she pulled back, her expression was deathly serious. 

“You still love her, don’t you?”

It was like a bucket of cold water had been flung over their heads. Lucy jerked back and Tommy froze, both so shocked that they barely remembered how to breathe. 

So hard. They tried so hard not to think about her. Especially during moments like this.

Lucy’s eyes darted to the dark corners of the room, half expecting to see the ghost standing there, hands clasped in front of her, the light reflecting off of her golden hair while she watched them with sad blue eyes. 

But there was nothing in the corners but shadows. 

“You want her?” Tatiana didn’t back down from their shocked expressions. The question didn’t even sound accusatory, more just generally curious. 

A little sob broke from Lucy’s throat, and she clamped her jaws down tight around it, swallowing hard.

“Why would you fucking say that?” Tommy breathed out. His face twisted, trying to grab at Tatiana, but she pushed his hands away.

“Tommy,” Tatiana said, suddenly very gentle. “You love her,” when she tried to touch him again, he shoved her away, still snarling and sputtering in stunned horror at what she was asking them. 

“You want her?” Tatiana asked again, eyes darting between them. She looked at Lucy, expression softening while she reached out, lightly wiping away the tears that had started silently streaming down her cheeks.

The hole in her heart, where Grace has been, had never felt so open. Like it had been covered over only by a thin scab, and Tatiana’s words had ripped it right off, exposing the unhealed, bleeding wound to the world. She balled her hands into little fists, clutched them at her chest, the material of her shirt crinkling between her fingers while her elbows drew in tight. As if she could hold herself together.

“Don’t fucking touch her,” Tommy growled, suddenly shoving between them. Tatiana rounded on him, grabbing his face in her hands. Lucy tried hastily to wipe away at the tears still sliding down her cheeks.

“You want her?” Tatiana repeated, half taunting, half compassionate.

“Stop,” Lucy begged. Tommy shoved Tatiana’s hands away, seizing her face, still cursing quietly at her. But Lucy noticed something in the way his chest heaved, features shifting and contracting. He was fighting hard not to cry. 

“Stop it. Stop,” she tried again, this time attempting to shove her way between them, half worried they were about to come to blows. But rather than break them apart she instead wound up entangled in their twisted limbs, a hand grappled on each of them. Tommy fought against Tatiana for only a moment more, his attempts half hearted before his face crumpled 

“What are you fucking saying? What the fuck…”

A hoarse sob heaved from his chest. Lucy felt her features mirror his, like what last little strength she’d had relied on him, and as soon as he broke, her last bit of composure crumbled away. 

He dropped his forehead to rest on Tatiana’s chest. Lucy half collapsed into him, arm clinging to his shoulders while the other bunched in the delicate fabric at Tatiana’s back. Tatiana wrapped her arms around both of them with shocking, uncharacteristic tenderness, gently guiding the three of them to kneel on the floor. Lucy sobbed, burying her face in the crook of Tommy’s neck. His arm was around her, squeezing so tight it made it a little hard to breathe. 

The three of them knelt there, Tommy and Lucy crying softly into each other and the fine red material of Tatiana’s dress. She said nothing as she held them, the only sound in the room was their sobs and the crackles and pops from the fire.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. Grace should have been the one holding them. But if Lucy closed her eyes, she could almost pretend…

Guilt over that made her feel so sick for a moment she thought she would actually vomit. 

Instead she burrowed herself deeper into Tommy’s neck, as if he could somehow protect her from the guilt and pain thrashing through her. 

Never coming back. She’s never coming back. We’re alone. And it’s all our fault, and it hurts. It hurts. Will it ever stop hurting? No, I don’t think it will, oh God…

She whimpered, trembling lips pressing together. Tatiana petted her hair gingerly.

It’s never going to stop. Never going to get better. She’s gone, so what’s the point? All there is left to do is keep digging, down, down, down. But it’s so dark and I’m so tired and I think I want to stop now but I don’t know how. What do I do if I don’t do this? It's all I know anymore. Are we even alive, or did they bury us with her? Are we back under the ground? I’m starting to think we never were up above it to begin with. Please, please, someone pull me up; I can’t breathe down here anymore–

Her tears had ceased, but she was still shaking, her mind slipping further and further down the dark tunnel it had fallen into. She was gripping Tommy so tightly it was a wonder he didn’t seem to be in pain over it. 

He was all she had left, now. Her anchor. Her only companion in the cold darkness under the ground.  

“You want her tonight?” Tatiana’s voice broke through the darkness, and Lucy opened the eyes she hadn’t even realized she’d closed, blinking and squinting against the light despite the dimness of the room. 

Tatiana pulled back, rising to her feet. Her eyes glimmered, and Lucy was taken by the sudden softness in her face when she cupped their faces. “Watch…” she started to push off her dress, letting it slide down her body to crumple in a puddle of red on the floor. Like a pool of blood at her feet. She was telling them about a priest she knew. “He would put his hands here,” she rested a hand each on their throats. Lucy fought the sudden desire to flinch away, the tickle of Tatiana’s cool fingers on her throat bringing with it a surge of anxiousness and bad memories. But Tatiana released her quickly, passing a hand carefully along her red curls.

“I will do him first, then you. Touch yourself while you watch, little one,” she proclaimed, voice still soft. “Like you would have with her.”

Wetting her lips, Lucy glanced at Tommy, nervous as Tatiana rested her second hand on his throat. He didn’t even flinch, and at Lucy’s questioning look he gave a practically indiscernible nod, to let her know he was alright with it.

Leaning back, she began to slowly unbutton her waistcoat, biting her lip while watching Tommy slide his hands up Tatiana’s thighs. Tatiana inhaled sharply, then moaned when he leaned in to press a kiss to her mound. She was still speaking, but it was just noise as far as Lucy was concerned, hastily pushing her waistcoat aside and setting to work tugging at the buttons on her shirt layered underneath, suddenly rather jealous of Tatiana’s dress and how easily she was rid of it. Her thighs clenched together as she opened her shirt only halfway before sneaking a hand in to slide beneath her bra and pinch her nipple. The other fumbled with her belt, huffing in moderate frustration when she had to abandon her breast in order to undo both it and the fastenings of her trousers. Kicking them and her knickers off, she stretched out on the expensive, plush rugs, in just her half unbuttoned shirt, fingers trailing delicately through her moistening folds.    

Tatiana shoved Tommy down onto the rug beside Lucy, her movements almost violent, hands locked around Tommy’s throat and starting to squeeze. She let go of his throat with one hand for just a split second to guide him inside of her, and Tommy made a gasping sound, both hands latching tightly onto Tatiana’s thighs as she sunk down on him, replacing her second hand back onto his throat the second she was fully seated.  

Lucy tensed at the sound of him gasping and grunting, prepared to leap into action should Tatiana go too far. If Tommy’s face started turning blue or he lost consciousness, she’d shove her off of him. 

But he seemed to be quite enjoying himself, moaning lowly as Tatiana started to ride him vigorously, so she allowed herself to relax, fingers circling her clit and dipping tentatively into her as she watched them.

Tommy’s face changed as Tatiana fucked him, eyes unfocused, not staring at anything in the room. His hands wandered up from her thighs to wrap around her neck, and Tatiana moaned, eyes closing as he started to lightly choke her back.

Lucy watched in deep fascination as Tommy’s expression grew more enraptured; sorrow, desire, and adoration all mixing together in his still unfocused eyes. 

“Grace,” when he said the name Lucy had to bite down on her tongue to wrestle down a sob, feeling the agony of loss burning in her chest at just her name alone.    

Tommy’s head tilted back, pushing hard into the carpet while his hips continued to buck upwards, meeting Tatiana’s every movement. Lucy had given up on touching herself, instead just watching them, intrigued, with one hand loosely cupping her breast. Her thighs still squeezed together, though, in response to the erotic sight spread out beside her. The spark of pleasure helping only a little to distract herself from the aching empty space that had opened up inside her heart since the night of the charity dinner. Tommy grunted, his eyes bulging slightly, a sound almost like a sob reverberating from his throat.  

He came fast, with a cry, hips jerking. Spasming upwards when at the same time Tatiana pulled her hands from his throat, as if still half chasing the sensation of them squeezing his neck even as he gasped and coughed for air, fumbling to loosen the fabric at his collar. Tatiana rolled  off of him, reaching for a bottle of liquor near the fireplace. But when she offered it, Tommy tossed the bottle away, chest heaving and eyes staring up at the ceiling. 

Tatiana giggled, delighted, and snuggled into his side, rubbing his chest. Tommy dropped an arm loosely to wrap around her shoulders. The look on his face told Lucy that he still wasn’t entirely there; half lost in the memories of whatever it was that he’d seen while Tatiana was choking him.

She inched closer to them across the carpet, and Tatiana raised her head from where she’d rested it on Tommy’s chest, dark eyes sparkling with wicked glee. She sat up, slinking her way across Tommy to kneel in front of her, but Lucy was not focusing on the Russian, instead reaching out to tentatively brush her hand across Tommy’s chest. Lashes fluttering, he pulled his gaze from the ceiling to look at her lazily, large, warm hand covering hers where it rested on him.

Her lips parted, half wanting to ask him what he had seen, even though she already knew. 

She jumped when Tatiana’s cold hands locked around her throat, starting to squeeze without preamble.

“No–!” she yanked her head away, panic suddenly seizing her. It was too much like it had been in the alley, her attackers doing just about anything they could think of to hurt her; squeezing her throat so hard she thought they might crush her windpipe, while others carved into her skin with their pocket knives, filthy hands groping at her all the while. 

Tatiana loosened her grip, frowning at the reaction.

“Let her go,” Tommy ordered, suddenly there and crowding Tatiana away from her. She let go of Lucy’s neck, and her lungs burned as they expanded again with a rush of oxygen, her breaths shaky as she breathed in deeply to try to calm herself. Tommy stroked her cheek. “It’s okay. You don’t have to try.”

She bit her lip, remembering the look that had crossed his face while Tatiana had choked him. 

“Did you really see her?” she asked, voice so quiet it was a wonder that he heard her at all. Tommy nodded. A strangled sound left Lucy’s throat. “I want to…I want to try.”

He cocked his head, considering, and then an idea lit up behind his blue irises. “Come here, then,” he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her forward and into him, until she was in his lap. He kissed her once, thumbs stroking her cheeks, and then pulled back until he was laying down on the carpet. She closed her eyes, nuzzling at his palm while he stroked it along her face, trailing down her cheek, cupping her jaw, and then falling lower to wrap loosely around her throat. 

Her eyes opened, staring down at him. He wasn’t putting any pressure on her, just gently resting his hand there. She swallowed around it. The hand not on her neck curled around her hip, the fingers on her throat flexing, thumb stroking the sensitive skin. Lucy stared down, into his shrewd, questioning eyes, and gave a small nod.

“Not too hard,” she warned hastily, when his fingers tightened a tiny fraction. 

The hand on her hip moved to her right wrist, guiding it to rest on the forearm of the hand still holding her throat. 

“You pinch me if you need to stop.”

She nodded against his hand, relaxing at the knowledge that she had an easy out if she needed it. With the hand not around her throat, he adjusted her in his lap, reawoken and hardening cock throbbing and twitching against her thigh. She rolled her hips downwards, rubbing against him and encouraging him to swell further. He let out a soft hissing sound from between his teeth at the contact. There was rustling behind her, and a moment later Tatiana’s warm chest pressed up against her back, naked breasts tickling her shoulder blades. 

Her throat constricted, and not because of the large hand locked around it. The position so easily reminded her of the ones they would often partake in with Grace. 

Tatiana’s lips burned as they peppered across Lucy’s shoulder, hands smoothing down her chest to cup her breast, thumb running teasingly along her nipple before moving lower, until she was taking Tommy, fully hard now, in her fist, giving him a few pumps before guiding him to Lucy’s entrance. 

As she lowered herself down onto him, Tommy began very slowly to tighten his fingers at the sides of her throat, the tiniest bit of pressure making her shudder. His hand was big and warm, thumb still tenderly petting her skin. Lucy sighed blissfully once he was fully seated inside her, head tipping back while her eyes closed. Tatiana was sucking a mark into her shoulder, fingers busy undoing the remaining closed buttons on Lucy’s shirt, letting it fall open so that she could gingerly trace her fingertips across the scars marring her torso.

With a hand still holding onto Tommy’s forearm and the other braced on his chest, Lucy started to ride him slowly, sighing softly at the deep stretch of him as she bounced steadily up and down his thick cock.   

His hand was still applying a slight pressure to her throat. Not enough to cut off airflow; but just enough to let her properly feel the pressure. Her eyelids fluttered. The feeling of it was nice, but when her eyes darted to the dark corners of the room, she saw nothing but shadows. No Grace.

“You’re being too gentle with her,” Tatiana said, craning her head around to examine Tommy’s hand on Lucy’s throat. “If you don’t cut off the oxygen even a little she’s not going to see anything,” she reached up, moving to rest her hand atop Tommy’s on Lucy’s neck, and Lucy tightened her fingers where she was still clinging to his forearm in slight alarm. “You need to squeeze like this–”

“Don’t,” Tommy growled, and Tatiana retracted her hand hastily. Even she seemed to understand the consequences would be dire should she push things too far when it came to Lucy. “I know what I’m doing.”

A shiver ran down Lucy’s spine at the way he said it; voice an octave lower and all growly. His eyes snapped back to her, brow raising as he undoubtedly felt her tighten unconsciously around him. Sitting up and pulling her closer, he ran his nose along her cheek, kissing at her temple while his hips resumed pumping in and out of her. She relaxed her hand against his forearm, head tipping back with her moans and to let him kiss the underside of her jaw.

Gradually, so slowly she didn’t even really notice it at first, his hand started to squeeze tighter, the pressure on the sides of her throat gradually increasing.

Her chest heaved, breathing becoming more labored, and not from the physical exertion of their movements. He still wasn’t fully cutting off her oxygen, only impeding it enough to make her lungs burn a little. Her head swam, the room spinning hypnotically. And then he squeezed his fingers just a little more, and she gasped, still able to breathe, but only in tiny little gasps. The hand not occupied with her throat stroked along her side, coming to rest just under her breast, and she realized after a moment that he was feeling the expanding of her ribs beneath her skin, monitoring her breathing to ensure she was alright.

For a second, tears caught at the back of her eyes. There really was no safer place in the world for her to be than in Tommy’s arms.

He’d dropped his face to her chest, burying it between her breasts before busying himself with sucking on one of her hardened nipples. Butterfly-light kisses peppered the entire expanse of her shoulder, from her bicep to the crook of her neck, and when she turned her gaze to the source, she was not met with the dark hair and wicked, gleeful eyes of Tatiana.

The eyes that were staring back at her were blue as the sky, and sorrowful as a widow at her husband’s wake. 

Grace smiled at her, the same sad, wistful smile she’d given her the handful of times she’d appeared; standing in dark corners, perched on a windowsill, seated at one of the empty chairs at a table. Always watching them with that mournful look of longing. When she brushed the back of her hand along Lucy’s cheek, her touch was cold but delicate, and when she kissed her, she tasted like Grace always had: sweet as strawberries or peaches, but cut with something stronger and sharp, like gin, and holding just the slightest smokiness of cigarettes.

A sob spasmed in Lucy’s chest, lips parting to her lover’s to deepen the kiss. And then it was just it had always been: Tommy at her front, fucking her deep and gentle with his cock, and Grace at her back, legs on either side of her, kissing her sweetly while her cool fingers cupped her breasts and traced over her scars, working their way down until they circled firmly around her clit. 

Had she not been impeded by the limited oxygen currently available to her lungs, she would have cried out. But instead all she managed was a strangled, whimpering noise, walls fluttering and clamping down hard. Distantly, she heard Tommy let out a low grunt at the action, the pace of his thrusts picking up slightly. The sensation of his cock throbbing inside of her only adding to the dizzying pleasure addling her brain.

Grace didn’t say a word as she continued to stimulate Lucy’s clit, still pressing soft kisses to her cheeks and neck, briefly caressing her lips across Tommy’s knuckles where his hand was still locked tight around Lucy’s throat, then back to the spot where her shoulder met neck, sucking a tender love bite into the sensitive flesh.

Her orgasm swelled up inside of her like a tide, breaking forth with a sudden rush that soaked Tommy’s cock while she tightened around him, body tensing with the force of it. Black spots appeared in her vision, and it was all too much that she had to squeeze her eyes shut, even as her head tilted to still nudge against Grace’s.

Pressed up against her, Tommy groaned low in his throat, rolling his hips languidly, helping to prolong her orgasm for as long as he could. As it started to ebb, she slowly, tentatively opened her eyes. Grace was still there, head nestled against her shoulder, watching them fondly. When she spotted Lucy looking at her, she smiled, not as sad as the one she’d given her before, and tilted her head up to kiss her chastely on the lips.

Closing her eyes and leaning into the kiss, Lucy could feel it as Tommy gradually began to relax his grip on her throat, more and more oxygen filling her lungs. She felt the lips that were pressed to hers pull back, and she fought back the sudden desire to cry. To beg her not to leave. 

She knew that when she opened her eyes, there would be no one there. 

Tommy’s hand finally fully loosened, hand flattening in a gentle caress down her throat, smoothing in a descent to her chest, sliding between her breasts and finally finding a new home on her thigh.

He’d stopped moving at some point, though she could plainly feel that he was still hard and throbbing inside of her. Eyes peeling open slowly, she was greeted with his bright blue orbs, practically glowing thanks to the reflection from the fire, staring back at her. She cupped his face tentatively, resting her forehead against his while they basked for a moment in their shared sorrow and wonderment over this new possibility Tatiana had unlocked for them. His nose just barely knocked against hers, and with a slight tilt of her head, she kissed him, arms sliding around his strong shoulders, gripping tight as she began slowly to rise up and down on his cock, swallowing the moan he released.    

She was distantly aware of Tatiana still at her back, her hands and lips sliding over them both, but she paid her little attention, instead entirely focused on Tommy. Looping her legs around his waist, she sighed into his pillowy-soft lips as they kissed over and over again, his big hands caressing and holding her like she was made of China, so gentle it almost made her want to cry.

Her second orgasm snuck up on her practically out of nowhere, too engrossed with the warmth and comfort of being so close to Tommy to be aware of it until it was upon her. They weren’t kissing anymore so much as just breathing into one another, lips parted as they gasped. Tommy made a small, pleased noise in the back of his throat when he felt her start to come around him, strong arms pulling her by some miracle even closer, mouth slanting across hers in a desperate kiss, hips still rolling up into her. Arms wrapping around his shoulders, she hugged him to her, suddenly overtaken by the deep need to hold him tight and never let him go. 

Tommy moaned, quiet and low into her mouth, his hands tightening where they rested at her waist, and then he was coming too, pushing in all the way and staying there as he emptied himself into her. Lucy hummed at the familiar feeling of his warm seed releasing inside her, and when they finally broke from their kiss, it was to embrace, heads nestling into each other’s shoulders, chests heaving against one another as they shuddered with the final waves of their shared pleasure. 

Closing her eyes, Lucy allowed herself to relax fully against him, sinking into the depths of his arms with her head still nuzzled into his shoulder. He petted her back, pressing kisses into her hair.

“You see?” Tatiana’s voice sounded very far away. “There are still ways for you to have what you want most,” and then she was laughing; a mad, crackling sound, as she pulled away from them, standing to scoop up her dress and pull it back on. Her red lips were stretched wide with her grin, crooning something about vodka and cakes in one of the drawing rooms. Her dark eyes glittered, dancing with madness and wisdom in equal measure. She did not seem perturbed when neither of them acknowledged her, just chuckling from someplace low in her chest. “When you both are able to stand, you will come join me, yes?” she didn’t wait for a response, just readjusting the collar of her dress and patting at her hair before flashing them one final grin and sweeping from the room, the door closing behind her with a quiet click. 

Tommy exhaled slowly. Shifting in his arms, Lucy lifted gingerly off of him, wincing a little at the overstimulation as his softening cock slid from her still sensitive cunt. Arm looped around her, he guided her to lay down with him as he reclined with a soft groan back onto the rug with her tucked safely into his side, head resting on his chest.

Neither of them said anything for a long time, just listening to the quiet crackles and pops from the fire as it slowly died, the room growing darker and darker with each passing minute. Outside the closed door, Lucy could very distantly make out the sounds of moans and skin slapping skin where the orgy was still in full swing. 

She was not really there, though. Her mind was faraway, locked in memories of the things she’d seen when Tommy’s hand had been wrapped around her throat. The way Grace had kissed her. The distant scent of her perfume, the coolness of her hands as they ran across Lucy’s skin…

Warmth from Tommy’s fingers, swiping gingerly at her cheek where she realized a tear had escaped, drew her attention from her own melancholic thoughts. Craning her head up to look at him, her eyelids fluttered at the gentle brush of the back of his hand along her cheek, cozying in closer to his chest. He was studying her face shrewdly, as if he’d known exactly what she was thinking. His gaze flitted down, to focus on her neck, and his brow pinched, fingertips delicately touching her throat. 

“I wasn’t too rough, was I?”

She had to bite back a bewildered laugh at the question. As if he was ever anything but sweet and careful with her. 

“No,” she shook her head, angling her face down to catch his palm in a nuzzle and press a few kisses to the tips of his fingers. “Not too rough.”

He gave her a tiny smile, cupping her chin to angle her face up so he could kiss her. The brush of his lips was soft, still being incredibly gentle with her as he cradled her face, thumb stroking her cheek even after they parted. With a sigh, she dropped her face into his neck, arms draped over his chest.   

“It’s so hard,” she murmured miserably after another stretch of silence. The fire had died out almost completely, little more than a pile of smoldering ash and fading embers. Most of the candles had burned down to nothing, leaving them in almost complete darkness. It was hard to say what time it was. “I miss her so much.”

Tommy rubbed her back. “I know. I miss her too.”

“Do you…” she stuttered, swallowing around the lump in her throat. “Do you think it’ll ever get easier?”

She had hoped, with time, that perhaps the worst of the pain and guilt over Grace’s death would scar over. Not go away, necessarily. She knew better than to ever expect that. But to at least become less potent. Less capable of leaving her with tears building behind her eyes at every memory of her dead lover. At the very least she ought to be able to hear the uttering of her name without feeling as though the sound of it would cause her to shatter, shouldn’t she?

But that had not happened at all. The pain was still there, haunting in the back of her mind, waiting for something–be it a memory or a simple glance at an old photograph–to reawaken the howling agony within her chest. She was beginning to think that it would never stop hurting.  

Tommy was quiet for a long moment, still tracing patterns absentmindedly into her back. “I don’t know,” he said, finally. “I think…we’ll learn to live with it.”

She nodded, eyes closing at his lips brushing the top of her head. She really didn’t know what she would do without him. The grief was terrible enough as is; she didn’t think she would have survived had she been forced to go through it alone. 

“Our business here is almost done.”

“Yes. Almost.”

She stretched out her limbs, wincing at the slight stiffness already beginning to settle in them. A reminder that she wasn’t in her twenties anymore. “We should probably get up.”

“Yeah.”

But when she made a move to sit up, he stopped her with a hand on the back of her waist, the other cupping her cheek and drawing her in for another kiss. 

“I love you,” he murmured, once they’d pulled away. Lucy smiled softly.

“I love you too.”

His thumb gave her cheek one last stroke before he let her go, grimacing as he sat up, stretching out his muscles. Lucy bit her lip as she watched him drag himself to his feet, towering over her. 

It was a very nice angle to look at him from. 

He looked down at her, brow raised, a small snort leaving him when she held her hands out to him in silent demand. Grasping both of them firmly, he helped pull her to her feet with one strong flex of muscle, and she had to stifle a gasp when she collided into his chest. 

They set to work pulling on and readjusting their clothes, giving each other a once over to make sure everything looked as it should. Tommy smoothed a hand over her hair, trying in vain to tame her messy curls, then reached down, taking her hand tightly in his. Suddenly feeling very tired, Lucy tipped forward, until her head was resting on the center of his chest, closing her eyes. Tommy caressed the back of her head.

“Ready?”

She dragged in a deep, ragged breath, and nodded, opening her eyes and leaning back. 

He pecked her forehead, squeezed her hand, and together they headed towards the door.

Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Chapter

Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment, reblog, or like. I always appreciate feedback and love getting the opportunity to interact with you and hear your thoughts!

[patchworkgargoyle]

oc fic: i wanna be adored

For day two of @strangerthingsocweek!! This is an "official" publication, I guess, of a fic I wrote last year for Dom and Freak. @steddieas-shegoes gave me a lot of inspiration for this one, so thank you so much again, as well as organising this event! You're awesome, Mickala!!

I don't tend to go back and re-read my own work, but re-reading this to make sure it was decent enough to put on tumblr made me realize how much I liked this one. So that's nice!

Pairing: transmasc OMC x Unnamed Freak || Rating: E || Words: ~6.7k|| Tags: modern!au, some emotional self-harming behaviours, rough sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, Dom/sub undertones, impact play, under-negotiated kink, aftercare, first kiss For some context, this is set in @steves-strapcollection's Stranger Things modern!au "here I have found some peace of mind" but after the events of his fic. It also mentions his OCs Charlie and Tig, as well as @sentient-trash's OC Eric! Title from I Wanna Be Adored - The Stone Roses

Coming to this fucking party was a mistake.

Dominik was trying. He was determined to be on his best behaviour and shove his mess aside for the night to at least keep some peace. It wasn’t like he (fully) intended to make this schism worse, he just… he couldn’t always keep his mouth shut. And paid for it. That he was even invited to hang out with his friends and the Corroded Coffin folks tonight was an olive branch from both Tig and Gareth and even if Dom hadn’t gotten hold of the reins of his runaway feelings yet–at all–he was determined to at least try. To put on a brave face, a stiff upper lip, what-have-you.

And, importantly, to try to keep his stupid mouth shut. He didn’t need to poison the air with his usual venom right now.

Even if it meant that Charlie kept shooting him concerned looks. Eric mostly just gave him an awkward pat on the back. Dom knew it was because he’d probably said less than ten whole words all night while he kept his distance from the–understandably, even he can begrudgingly admit–suspicious Coffin boys and their friends. 

None of that trying helped, though.

Seeing Tig practically glued to Gareth’s side all fucking night was hellish. And the way he smiled at Gareth… that extra wide grin, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners and sparkled every motherfucking time that short shithead cracked a barely funny joke, like he was the sun in Tig’s sky. Uhg. Made Dom want to throw his glass of wine at the wall so hard it shattered, rip his own heart out, and throw it at Gareth’s feet to be stomped to mush so at least it looked how Dom felt. But that was a tad too dramatic, even for him.

So Dom suffered quietly, slowly sipping his only drink of the night and offering the blandest smiles and clipped answers to the very-brave very-few who dared approach him and the figurative thunderstorm brewing over his head. One that snapped into a deluge when he caught sight of them again.

It was awful to watch Tig wrap his arms around Gareth’s waist from behind and nuzzle his face into his neck, his lips moving with whatever secret affections he whispered into that undeserving cunt’s ear–

Tearing his gaze away, he started to take a series of deep, measured breaths, tapping out the time between each on his glass with a finger. He was trying. Trying, god-fucking-damnit.

He cast around for anything else more interesting and less heart wrenching, a distraction, and saw someone else. Someone who also watched Tig and Gareth’s sickening little display, and who Dom knew also held some measure of jealousy about it.

Freak also stood off to the side, just a little ways away from the group. Had this kicked-puppy expression as he stared at the happy couple over the rim of the can. His stunning blue eyes reluctantly left their mutual, though opposite, objects of desire and jealousy and, amusingly, landed on Dom.

Raising his glass in a wry gesture of camaraderie, he took a sip as Freak gave a humourless laugh and followed suit. This wasn’t the first time they’d “commiserated” over their feelings, though Dom was still endlessly bitter that Freak, at least, had gotten to fuck them a few times anyway. Freak had snarled in his ear, while he fucked Dom into the floor, that maybe he could’ve too if he weren’t such a bitch; that had ended with both of them covered in scratches and carpet burns, and had Dom limping for almost a week.

The memory left him feeling a little warm. He held Freak’s gaze and tilted his chin up a little so he could look at him through his lashes, letting a slow smile stretch across his lips. They could both use a distraction, he figured. Why not offer one?

Freak glanced at his friends gathered just a few feet away, then back at Dom, letting his eyes roam lazily down Dom's body. Against the wall, Dom preened under his attention and stood in a way that he knew made his willowy frame look subtly more enticing. 

They've danced this dance before so Freak skipped the act of trying to seem disinterested and walked over instead. "Having fun?" he asked dryly, and Dom snorted with a disbelieving stare.

"Does it fucking look like I am?"

"Yup. Really the life of the party over here."

That pulled the tiniest, most reluctant smile from Dom, and he hid it with a sip of wine and a roll of his eyes. He did a sarcastic little bow with a flourish of his free hand, and said, "Welcome to the party, then."

"Happy to be here," Freak replied blandly.

"No you're not." Dominik pointedly looked at Tig and Gareth. "Neither of us are."

Freak laughed. "Fuck, you're miserable."

"Fuck off," Dom snapped, his irritation rising like bile in his throat, "like you're any better."

"Yeah I am."

Freak said it so plainly that Dom wanted to lash out at him. If they weren't here, if they were somewhere private, he would have. Instead he glared up at Freak, feeling caged and prodded at, and started trying to suss out any cracks in the armour of superiority Dom was convinced he hid behind. He'd knock Freak down a fucking peg even if he took himself out at the same time.

"Prove it," Dom demanded, his tone just shy of a growl. He stepped up into Freak's space with a dangerously coy tilt of his head. The closeness reminded Dom of how deliciously overwhelming Freak could be when provoked hard enough and a familiar zing of interest raced down his spine, only fueling his need to push and anger the man. So he added,

"Fuck me like you'd fuck him."

Freak's eyes narrowed, his lip upturned in a sneer. "Why would I want to do that?"

"Well, it should be easy, a fucking walk in the park, if you're that much better than me. And besides, darling." Dom lowered his voice and stepped just close enough to feel Freak's body heat and smell his cologne. Using one finger, he turned Freak's head in Gareth's direction and watched, with self-satisfied glee, as Freak's eyes flicked over, right where Dom had intended. "You could just close your eyes and think it's his cunt you're fucking instead."

He lowered his hand but didn't step away, so he heard the unsteady breath Freak took. Dom waited patiently for him to respond. The more seconds that ticked by, the more certain he felt that he'd won this part of the battle. He looked forward to the next part.

Without looking away from Gareth and Tig, Freak finally spat out, "Fine."

"Great. I'll meet you at mine? Unless you back out like a fucking coward and prove me right," Dom asked with a smug smile. Freak's downright furious expression just made him smile wider.

"You'll regret that."

"Oo, I adore threats."

They stared at each other for a few seconds, neither one backing out of the bare few inches of space they'd left between themselves, Dom grinning and Freak fuming. Gritting his teeth, Freak was the first to break away, schooling his face into something much friendlier before going to say his goodbyes to his friends.

Dom went back to leaning against the wall. He figured he'd finish his wine first and privately revel in his petty victory. He'd earned it.

There was a chorus of farewells and the front door shut, so Dom swirled the rest of his drink, giving Freak a head start of a few minutes. But he wasn't able to enjoy his small moment of peace.

"Nickie."

Sighing, Dom gave Charlie a tight smile and a short hum of acknowledgement. His friend looked anxious, that iconic moustache of his tilted in a frown, which seemed to be the only way he looked at Dom these days.

"Dominik," Charlie continued, sounding vexed, "come on. What was all that? Did you drive him off?"

"Not this time," Dom grumbled.

"I'm serious." Charlie crossed his arms over his chest.

"So am I, fucking hell, stop riding my ass, it's–" Clamping his mouth shut, Dom exhaled through his nose and let the wall take his weight. Then he looked at the floor and scrubbed a hand down his face. "Sorry, Chuckie," he said, with actual remorse.

Charlie patted Dom's shoulder, letting it rest there as he spoke. "I know. We're okay. But, really, what the hell was that? You were all up in his space, he looked pissed, and then he left."

"I did piss him off a little," Dom admitted, unable to help the satisfied lilt to his voice, "but it's not what it looks like, alright? It's just a… an arrangement."

Dom glanced up at Charlie and was met with the second most disappointed look he'd ever seen on his friend's face. Didn't appreciate the reminder that he was also the reason for the most disappointed look he'd ever seen, too. "Nickie–"

"Don't. Just, shit, don't. I know."

Sighing, Charlie squeezed Dom's shoulder and reined him in for a side hug. Dom bristled but let it happen, refusing to cause some kind of scene. Again.

"I hope you know what you're doing, and that you're talking it out and being safe. Freak's pretty rough."

"Yeah he is." Dom flashed a salacious grin at Charlie, hoping that it would distract him from the fact that he didn't acknowledge the rest of what he'd said. The tired eyebrow levelled his way said that Dom didn't succeed. "Listen, it's fucking fine. It's nothing. Stop wasting your time mother-henning me and go be with the well-adjusted assholes over there," he said sullenly, though without his usual bite.

"It's not a waste of my time to worry about you, man." 

And that there was too much, too far. Dom ducked out from Charlie's arm with a thin smile. "Either way, I'm wasting my handsome gentleman caller's time the longer I'm here. So if you'll excuse me, I have to go get my brains fucked out of my head. Say goodbye to Eric and… and Tig, for me."

"Nickie–"

"Good night, Chuckie."

Dom made for the back door, where he figured he could slip away with only Charlie knowing. He opened it carefully, not wanting to make his exit obvious, and when the door creaked lightly he glanced over his shoulder. Which was, of course, a stupid mistake.

Tig was watching him.

Pinned in place like an insect, Dom couldn't look away from Tig's blatant worry and sadness. Shame and guilt and want flooded his chest, threatening to drown him, drag him under and into the dark, so Dom bit down hard on the inside of his cheek. The bloom of metallic-tasting pain was enough to get him through the door without so much as a wave goodbye.

The drive home was a blur. Dom could barely remember any of it beyond pulling into his parking space, when he pried his tense hands off of the steering wheel. Groaning, he flopped against the seat and ground the heels of his palms into his eye sockets until he saw stars.

He shouldn't have gone to that goddamn party.

The thought echoed in his head, taunting him, until there was a tap-tap-tap on his window and Dom jolted. He almost started yelling at the person for being a creep until he realised it was Freak. The parking lot light cast his face in a yellowed half-light, enough to see his slight frown. Dom had had enough of people looking at him like that.

"Come on," he said when he slammed his car door shut. Freak followed silently, a steady presence at Dom's back as he led them into the building. In the elevator, he punched the button for the 6th floor and stared at the display wordlessly.

"We don't have to do this," Freak hedged to break the quiet ride up.

Dom crossed his arms. "You backing out now?"

"Not backing out, giving you an out. Kinda looks like you don't want–"

The elevator came to a stop with a ding, the door rattling open. Dom shoved his foot against the gap where it disappeared.

"What I don't want is to keep being treated like I don't know what I'm fucking doing." He sneered at Freak. The seal on his temper was so close to bursting. "So are you coming in, or going home?"

Freak examined him for a moment. Seemed to weigh his options. The elevator tried to close, but as it met Dom's foot, Freak stepped forward and held it back, looming into Dom's space at the same time.

"You're going to let me know if you want to stop. At any time. And don't snap at me when I check in," he said.

Dom tilted his head, one eyebrow cocked. "Fine. But talk to me again like I don't know basic etiquette and I'll rip your dick off."

"Oo," Freak cooed, both sarcastic and alluring, "I adore threats."

The callback made Dom bristle, but the dark thread of desire woven through his tone made it more fun than annoying. Marginally. That, and the way Freak leered at him, using his extra few inches of height to his advantage, felt like a challenge, and Dom craved that push, that fight.

Trailing his hand up Freak's leg, smirking at the small hitch of breath he heard, and held his gaze as he hooked a finger into a belt loop, pulled, and said, "Good."

Freak shoved Dom out of the elevator, his patience clearly worn thin, and Dom muffled his cackling as he jogged backwards down the hall, unzipping his coat and grabbing his crotch suggestively. He managed to ruck up his black shirt when he ran his hands up his chest, knowing that Freak could see the thatch of hair that disappeared beneath his waistband. Freak watched hungrily, following at a pace slow enough to enjoy the show. But when Dom turned to unlock his door, Freak was on him, crowding him against it.

"Such an attention whore, huh?" Freak growled appreciatively in Dom's ear. Dom shivered, grinning. "Fucking starved for it. Bet I could fuck you right here where your neighbours could see and you'd get off on it."

Laughing low and breathless, Dom fished out his keys with one hand, jingling loudly in the quiet hall, then reached around to grab Freak's ass with the other to yank him closer with a hard squeeze. The words, the idea, made his cunt throb. He could feel how Freak's breathing picked up, with his chest against Dom's back and their faces side-by-side. The slightest turn of his head had Dom's lips brushing Freak's stubbled jaw.

"While I do love putting on a show," Dom murmured, rubbing against Freak's hardening cock with a satisfied sound, "we have other plans."

Freak groaned in complaint when Dom let them inside, leading the way. Whirling around on his heel, Dom started stripping, flinging his coat one way, his shirt the other. He could almost feel the way Freak watched him, a little stunned but intense. "Don't forget to lock the door, darling," he taunted, smirking. With one hand held up, two fingers crooked to beckon Freak along, Dom undid his belt with the other, the leather making a loud snap as he whipped it out of the belt loops. Freak slammed the door shut, throwing the lock, still staring as he shoved his jacket off.

"You just gonna fucking gawk or–oh shit!" Freak charged, scooping Dom up as he squawked in surprise, and started towards the bedroom. "Jesus–fuck–put me down!" He scrambled for purchase, forced to wrap his hands around Freak's neck and trust that he'd hold Dom up. Though the way his biceps flexed as he hoisted Dom a bit higher left zero room for doubt.

Freak's confident, cocky stare fed the heat pooling in Dom's belly. His self-assuredness was so frustratingly hot. And shit, it was fun to fuck around with someone again that matched his energy, that kept up with him. That bit back.

Dom tangled his fingers into Freak's dark, curly hair and tugged, and though he hissed Freak also laughed and dug his blunt nails into Dom's jean-clad thighs in retaliation. But then they passed the doorway into Dom's room. And Freak grinned. It clicked just a split-second before–

"No–!" 

With an effortless shove, Freak flung Dom onto the unmade bed. He landed in an undignified heap amongst the pillows and blankets with a muffled yelp. Getting up on his elbows, Dom blew his hair out of his face and glared.

"You told me to put you down," Freak said, shrugging.

"You… clichéd asshole," Dom fumed, his jaw clenched to keep from laughing or smiling. He refused to show that he'd actually enjoyed being hauled around so fucking easily.

He watched as Freak shrugged again, unbothered and amused, before pulling his shirt off and propping a leg up on the bed frame to start untying his boots. Dom kept watching as he unlaced his own boots. Admired his thick thighs, the swell of his belly over his jeans, the dark hair that covered his forearms and torso. He wanted to get his hands on every inch of skin and leave bruises that would last for days.

Seeing Dom start to open his fly, Freak grabbed him by the ankles and yanked him across the bed, standing between his outstretched legs before pulling Dom’s jeans off so roughly he heard a seam snap, taking his boxer briefs with them, leaving him naked and spread open. Dom gasped, looked up. His gut swooped at the way Freak studied him, almost cold, calculated, the fun from earlier hidden behind whatever was going on in his head. Then, slowly, Freak sank to his knees.

Shock coursed through Dom’s nerves. They hadn’t done this before. They had an agreement to not use their mouths; no lips, tongue, teeth. Only hands, fingers, Freak’s cock or a toy or two. So Dom asked hesitantly, “What the fuck are you doing?”

“You wanted me to fuck you like I fuck Gareth,” he responded flatly. That name sent a sick spike of jealousy through Dom’s heart. “So I’m giving you what you wanted. Unless–”

“Fuck you, I’m not backing out,” Dom spat. Anger seethed alongside his jealousy, but not at Freak, not really. At himself. He’d forgotten, so fast, that that was why they were even here tonight. He fucking forgot. Some unnamed feeling sank like a stone in his chest, so he buried it. Swiftly.

Dom hooked a leg over Freak’s shoulder and dug a demanding heel into his back, catching the barest wince on his face before he came closer to Dom’s bare, glistening cunt. The thrill at the sight of Freak on his knees between his legs warred with the bitterness of knowing why he was there. Dom grit his teeth. “Get to it.”

Freak gave him one last significant look before closing his eyes with a short huff. His broad hand grabbed the leg that wasn’t over his shoulder and held it in place so he could bite. Dom let out a surprised sound, the new feeling of Freak’s teeth in his skin going straight to his dick, and throbbing when he started to suck.

Freak sucked two more hickeys into Dom’s thigh on his way up, each one harder than the last, leaving Dom panting, his leg twitching in Freak’s strong grasp. Dom didn’t realise his own eyes were closed until he felt Freak’s hot, wet tongue lap at the seam of his cunt, licking over him and then in with a throaty groan. Moaning in surprise, Dom let his head fall back.

He wanted to swear, to run his mouth like he usually did, but something held him back. He didn’t want to ruin whatever fantasy might be playing in Freak’s head and change the scene, remind him of who he was actually eating out and be treated differently. Even if this was only because Freak was picturing Gareth, he wanted to know. Wanted that awful, twisting stab in his chest, knowing how that asshole got pampered.

Biting his lip to keep silent, Dom started rocking into Freak’s face when he felt him latch onto his dick. But Freak laid his arm across his hips, pinning him easily as he shoved Dom’s leg wider, sucking harder and licking at the tip of his dick in a way that had Dom trembling and choking back every sound. Freak was fucking eager, greedy.

All he could do was lie there and feel. Dom’s hands fisted in the blankets as his pleasure built and built, gasping and breathless when he wasn’t desperately trying to be quiet. Freak’s laser-like focus on his cock made it really goddamn hard.

Distracted, Dom didn’t notice at first that Freak’s hand, the one holding him down, started moving. He jolted when Freak’s nails pressed into the sensitive skin at the bend of his hip, dragging up in harsh red lines. They’d stand out on his pale skin for hours.

When Freak’s fingertips reached Dom’s chest, he paused. Dom thought it was because his hips jerked up helplessly against Freak’s mouth. Then Freak’s fingers trailed over one of his scars, halting and almost gentle, before thumbing at Dom’s pierced nipple. Confused, Dom opened his eyes and looked down at Freak to find he was already looking back.

“What?” Dom asked. Freak pulled away, his chin shining with slick in the low light, and Dom strangled the sound of protest that tried to escape him as his cunt throbbed at the sight.

“You’re not Gareth–”

“You think I don’t fucking know that–?” Dom snarled, but Freak slapped his thigh hard enough to make Dom jerk, his breath catching in his throat at the sting.

“Shut the fuck up for one second, christ!” Wiping his face on his arm, Freak surged up from his knees to cage Dom in against the bed. His jeans were rough against Dom’s thighs when he squeezed his legs around Freak out of instinct, habit, need. “You’re not Gareth, and I don’t want you to be! Let go of the stupid game and let me fuck you. Just you, Dom.” 

Dom blinked up at him, stunned. Emotions whirled messily in his chest, bursting into sparks as they collided with his ribs. His eyes darted over the other man’s face, finding frustration–a familiar sight–but also hunger, sheer want, and… earnestness. It only worsened the chaos in his ribcage. Part of him wanted to end it all right here, send Freak home, delete and block his number and snuff out the sparks, swift and sure and cynical. But then Freak’s face started to close off the longer Dom took to respond and something dug its claws into his bones and begged.

“Do it, then,” he rasped, his heart thundering as he deliberately held Freak’s gaze. “Screw the game.”

“Thank fuck.” Freak burrowed into Dom’s neck, immediately biting at his tattooed skin. He couldn’t make himself tell Freak off for it. The movement brought their hips together, both of them gasping when Freak’s hard cock, still trapped in his jeans, pressed against the wet mess he’d left between Dom’s legs. They rutted into each other, Dom thriving off the rough drag of fabric against his swollen cock and the sharp bite of Freak’s teeth, digging a trembling hand into his curls to hold him against his neck.

Fuck the game, fuck their agreement. Dom wanted this.

Wanted Freak.

When a particularly hard bite made Dom choke back a moan, Freak growled into his neck, “Stop. Stop fucking hiding, wanna hear you.” He laved his tongue over the red, painful spots he’d made and Dom shuddered.

“Then fucking do something worth moaning about.”

Chuckling darkly, Freak yanked Dom’s head back by his hair, using the leverage to thrust against him, and bit down at the soft spot under the hinge of Dom’s jaw, sucking a hickey there so hard that Dom cried out, his cunt clenching around nothing. God, fuck, he needed Freak’s cock fucking immediately.

Reaching down, he scrabbled at Freak’s belt, squeezing his length for good measure and preening at the sounds that earned. It took some fussing and swearing, and Freak helped not at all as he kept nipping his way across Dom’s neck, but Dom finally managed to pull those goddamn jeans down and get Freak’s thick cock out. He smirked when he felt the eager twitch in his hand as he pumped it, smearing precome along it.

“So wet for me, darling,” Dom purred into Freak’s ear. Guiding him to his cunt, he hissed when Freak took the hint and started thrusting again, sliding through Dom’s slick folds and rubbing against his dick. “For me.”

“You’re no better,” Freak laughed, “listen to this.” He straightened up, grabbed Dom’s hips, and thrust faster, the wet sounds getting wetter each time the head of Freak’s cock ground against Dom’s.

Then he grinned, and before Dom realised it he was being pulled closer to the edge of the bed, and then up, into his lap, where Freak bent him nearly in half so he could leer down into Dom’s face as he spoke. “You were soaked before I even got my mouth on your cock.” He angled himself so his dick sat tantalisingly at Dom’s entrance, just barely pushing in, his grin growing wider when he felt his cunt twitch and flutter.

“For me,” Freak echoed, so self-satisfied, and Dom glared even as he desperately wanted to squirm, writhe, do anything to finally be fucked like he wanted.

“You smug fucking–oh, bastard, fuck!” Dom shouted as Freak bullied his way inside with a rough shove. His mouth fell open around a surprised, needy sound, turning into a hiss as his cunt had to stretch around the welcome intrusion. Freak sighed, his head falling back in relief. He might’ve been a bastard, Dom thought, but fuck if he wasn’t a hot one. As he wrapped his legs around Freak’s waist, Dom made plans to mark up his neck as revenge for mauling his own. And because he could, now.

Dom rolled his hips into each hard thrust, the push and drag inside him setting his already wound-up nerves alight. Their eyes met, and even as they both grinned, slap-happy and running on endorphins, Dom realised this was the first time they’d fucked like this, face to face, and he didn’t know what to do with the feelings building in his gut alongside his arousal. So, he did what he always does.

Digging his nails into Freak’s neck, Dom said with a teasing smirk, “This how you wanted to do it? Missionary, like we’re fucking vanilla?”

Freak rolled his eyes. “Don’t think you’re supposed to bend this far in missionary,” he shot back, forcing Dom to bend at the waist just a little more, his cock hitting deeper, at just the right angle to hit Dom’s g-spot and punch a high, reedy groan out of him. “Besides, wanna see your face for once when I make you come.”

“And you think—oh, fuck—you think this is all it’ll take?” He pressed his sharp nails further into Freak’s skin, making him wince. “Like I can’t go out and fuck someone else like this whenever I want? I fucking could—”

Faster than Dom could blink, Freak’s palm slapped Dom’s right cheek with a loud crack. Shock hit him before the sting, the burn, and Dom cut himself off with a fucking whimper, a full-body shudder rocking through him as he suddenly had to keep himself from coming right there and then. Holy shit. Freak grabbed his chin, forcing Dom to look up, wide-eyed and speechless.

“You’re mine.”

The dark, possessive growl behind Freak’s words made Dom clench around his cock. It shook him, down to his core. To be claimed like that, the evidence still stinging hotly on his red cheek, was almost more surprising, hotter, than being slapped.

Freak’s hand released his chin, instead resting on the centre of Dom’s chest, and he wondered if the other man could feel his heart racing, aching, under his palm; if he’d know exactly why it did. “Alright?” Freak asked, and Dom nodded, feeling a little dumb, a lot reckless.

“Again,” he said breathlessly.

He held Freak’s serious gaze until he seemed to find what he needed. Heat flared in Freak’s blue eyes, and Dom felt him throb, still buried to the hilt in his cunt. Freak lifted his hand and struck Dom again, on the same cheek, with the same force, and a moan ripped out of his throat as his eyelids fluttered closed and the coil in his belly went taught, threatening to snap.

“Fu-fuck, Freak, again, say it again, shit, please!” Dom pleaded. Freak switched hands, hitching Dom’s hips closer, before he gave Dom what he begged for.

The slap came down on Dom’s left cheek with so much force he cried out, his head whipping to the side. Freak ducked down immediately and licked a long, wet stripe along the clearly defined handprint he’d left, his fingers tangling in Dom’s hair as he said, with a low, gravelly snarl,

“Mine.”

And Dom came. Trembling, whining loud and guttural as he arched off the bed, fucking himself on Freak’s cock on drunken instinct as lightning arced through his body, knife-sharp and burning and fucking delicious. Freak thrust into him, helping Dom chase the high until he went limp on the bed, panting and still shaking. When Freak started to pull away, though, Dom’s legs kept him trapped, held him close.

“I swear to god if you pull out now I’m going to kill you,” he said breathlessly. “Keep fucking going.”

Laughing, Freak shook his head fondly and said, “Jesus christ you’re demanding.” Stubbornly, he shifted them both so that Dom wasn’t bent into a half-moon any more, and braced himself over Dom like proper fucking missionary. But, thankfully, he listened too, resuming his steady pace with a satisfied groan.

The overstimulation sent sparks skittering along Dom’s nerves and he knew, if Freak kept this up and he got his fingers around his cock, he could come again. So he reached between them and started rubbing himself in time with Freak’s thrusts, which grew faster, harder, when he noticed what Dom was doing. He rode the edge of pain and pleasure, gasping when Freak grabbed his waist and held him still, fucking into him rougher, using him.

Dom watched him as they raced towards their end, took in the sweat on Freak’s brow and the way his lips were bitten red, and that stupid, greedy recklessness swelled in him again. Unthinking, Dom reached up, guiding their faces close so he could kiss him.

His lips were soft. That was devastating, somehow. Life altering. Freak’s hips stuttered and his hands clenched where they grabbed his sides, but Dom felt him melt into the kiss before he licked into Dom’s mouth with a hungry, urgent sound. When their tongues slid together, Dom could taste the remaining salt and tang of his own slick in Freak’s mouth. It quickly turned messy and uncoordinated as Freak’s pace faltered and Dom quickly brought himself to the edge again.

“Dom, shit, I’m gonna—”

“Come on, darling,” Dom urged thoughtlessly, “fill me up, I’m yours, fuck, please.”

Freak pressed another sloppy kiss against Dom’s lips, which he met eagerly, his hands on his cheeks holding him there almost gently, and in just a few deep pumps of his hips Freak came, adding to the wet, frantic sounds of skin on skin. The feeling propelled Dom into his second climax with a choked out whimper.

Letting his forehead rest against Dom’s, Freak slowed, and then stopped, both men gasping for breath. Aftershocks sent tremors through Dom’s muscles, the twitching making Freak hiss and then chuckle lightly. Dom groaned, low and somewhat pained, when Freak pulled out so he flopped onto the bed beside him, the dip in the mattress bringing Dom into his flank, their legs dangling uselessly over the side.

Dom had a whole minute to soak in the bliss. The ache in his cunt, his thigh, and along his face and neck were so fucking good that the only thing keeping him from curling in on himself in satisfied delight was how loose-limbed he was. Instead, he hummed, a short, pleased sound. Then it hit him.

They’d kissed.

No. Dom had kissed Freak. He’d gotten so carried away by his own hormones and his stupid fucking feelings, whatever the fuck they were, that he’d seen the tatters of their agreement, his one rule, to keep their mouths to themselves, and skipped straight to kissing Freak. And then… I’m yours, he’d said. Oh fuck. Panic and regret flooded him, his heart racing with anxiety. The thing with the claws in his ribs shook, expecting to drown. Freak must’ve felt him tense, because he shifted slightly to look at Dom with a concern he desperately did not want to see right now.

“Are you—?”

Dom cut him off by quickly sitting up. “I’ll get us some water,” he said tonelessly. Standing, Dom snatched the robe hanging off his computer chair and slipped into it before walking on unsteady legs to the kitchen, ignoring the mess leaking out between them.

The only light he bothered to turn on was the oven hood light. Anything brighter and Dom illogically thought he’d be forced into a self-interrogation he couldn’t currently bear. Numbly, he pulled out two mismatched glasses and began to fill them.

At the sink, he caught his own faint reflection in the darkened window. His eyeliner was a dark, messy smudge around his eyes now, and even in the darkness he could see how red his cheeks were. He touched his left cheek and flinched at the sting.

He hadn’t noticed the glass was spilling over until a hand reached out and shut off the faucet. “Dom?” Freak asked softly, standing close enough that Dom felt caught in his gravitational pull. Dom’s howling anxiety kept him from giving in.

Freak seemed to mull over his words first, and when he finally spoke it was in that same soft tone that made Dom want to simultaneously lash out and fucking run. But his feet stayed glued in place as Freak said, “I know you’re not one for a lot of aftercare, Dom, but… christ, that was intense and even if you don’t need it I, uh. I think I do. I know I’m gonna drop if you send me home right now, or if you don’t… don’t say anything.”

God, he wanted anything but aftercare right now. Dom wanted to snap at Freak, tell him to fuck off and take care of himself; to curl up and tear out his own hair and rage and be miserable and—

Dom wanted the drop, could feel it, was probably in the midst of it right then, and something his brand-spanking-new therapist had told him suddenly clicked. He was trying to punish himself. For kissing someone, kissing Freak.

Letting out a shaky breath, Dom finally let himself lean into Freak’s side even as a part of him still wanted to rip and tear. “Okay,” he said.

“Thank you,” Freak replied and wrapped his arm around Dom’s shoulders.

“What do you need?” he asked wearily. 

“To clean us up, and lie down with you. Make sure your face is alright. You?”

“That… sounds nice,” he admitted. “Zuko might have to join us.”

As if summoned, Zuko rose from his large bed in the living room and trotted over, his tail wagging so fast it smacked into the cabinets in a way that made both men wince in sympathy. Wrapping his robe tighter to his body, Dom leaned down and babbled baby talk at his dog while he scratched Zuko’s head. When he glanced over at Freak, he caught the tail end of an expression so soft that his panic threatened to return.

“We should get cleaned up and put clothes on,” Freak said. “I don’t think I want to lie in bed naked with your dog.”

Dom snorted. “Good idea.”

They cleaned up in the bathroom, where Freak handled Dom so gently he had to blink back tears, overwhelmed by the care he was being treated with on top of the rollercoaster of the entire day. He let Freak examine his face and neck with careful hands, admitting to being very tender but fine. The wet cloth Freak used soothed Dom’s warm, raw skin. Dom used another to wipe away the sweat that still decorated Freak’s skin and the dried slick on his chin. Seeing Freak be so pliant for him, so trusting, his eyes closed as Dom cleaned him off with a thorough touch, was so new that Dom didn’t know what to do with it, couldn’t parse the emotions that welled up along with everything else.

When they’d dressed—Dom in pyjama pants, Freak in a flashy pair of harem pants from an old costume that were at least comfortable—they crawled under the blankets of Dom’s bed. Zuko, his patience having clearly worn out, ran and jumped onto the bed before squeezing himself between the wall and the nearest body, which happened to be Freak. His pained oof when Zuko stepped on him accidentally made Dom cackle tiredly. Then they were all settled, snug on the bed. How fucking strange.

Dom thought they’d just lie side by side, but instead Freak pulled him in, wrapped him up in a loose hug that made his heart skip a beat. They hadn’t done this, either. Cuddling. But it felt… nice. Laying his arm on Freak’s chest, he scratched through the hair there gently and enjoyed the novelty of just listening to him breathe.

“You’re okay, right?” Freak asked quietly.

He thought for a moment. It was still fucking weird, letting this happen, having Freak in his bed for longer than only needing to catch their breath. There was still too much going on in the cage of his chest; the weight of the kiss was still heavy on his mind. But it was easier to deal with, when Freak’s arms were there to hold him together.

“Yeah.” Dom wiggled in closer and wound his legs around Freak’s, his forehead resting in the crook of Freak’s neck. “I’m okay.”

—

Two days afterward, Dom found himself in front of his bathroom mirror for the third time that day. The marks Freak had left were still there. The snake skull on his neck, once monochrome, was blooming into deep purples haloed in yellow, and every time he turned his head the hickeys and bites ached dully. Even his cheek was still sore. It didn’t help that Dom was a little obsessed with how pink it still was, touching the spot more than he should to keep it tender. To keep the reminder of what happened.

It was useful, too. Now that the bruises were in their prime, he took a selfie, skillfully cropped so only his pinked cheek and the dark marks on his pale, tattooed neck showed between the splay of his spindly fingers. He posted it to his work Twitter and smirked at the instant flurry of notifications, but locked his phone so he could go back to admiring the damage.

He pulled himself out of it when a trio of messages made his phone buzz loudly on the counter. Laughing, he answered the first.

✨delicate boy✨: YEEEEEAAAAAAAH BOOOOOOYYYY 🥵🎉🍆🍆🥵💃

dom: 😎😎😎

The second, he shook his head fondly while he responded.

chuckie cheese: are you ok??? who MAULED you????

dom: a friend. i’m great thnx 😏

The third had Dom biting his lip against a smile as heat pooled low in his belly. Turning, he leaned against the counter and reread the text a few times before he finally responded.

that bassist: Could give you a necklace to match

dom: come do your worst.

dividers by cafekitsune

[snowblossomreads]

Day 12: A Missing Gift (Missing Star + Giver of Gifts)

Pairing: Sinclair Bryant x Amiee Huang (OC)

Summary: In where Amiee plays hostess to a party while Sinclair is missing. She learns later why he was gone for so long.

Tag(s)/Warning(s): mean jokes, defending loved one, kissing, hidden relationships, food(lots of food), gift giving, feelings of unworthiness, fluff and love!

Word Count: 5.4K (Sinclair's getting spoiled I know 😌)

A/N: Heheh so this story takes place before the events of The Art of Entangled Hearts which ,you can read here (come on i know u want to read it) . This little fic is just sweet fluff between these two and a little surprise awaits at the ending 🥹.

Disclaimer: Any resemblance to any person living or dead is just coincidence 🤣🤣 (it's not) Enjoy lovelies!

There were about 15 or so people, including Amiee, mingling in the spacious living room of Sinclair's flat, which resided on one of the top floors, in a luxury apartment building, in Manchester's city centre. All sorts of folks from work had come to the little, or more accurately rather larger dinner party he was throwing for the upcoming holidays, ready to gossip and drink fancy wine and champagne till their heads spun.

It was the weekend after all, and why not indulge, especially if you weren't paying for it. Most of the people there were from different departments though, she recognised two or three of them from her own. She was sure that they knew Sinclair, as everyone who ever met him could attest that he was hard to forget, and even harder to avoid once he took a liking to you.

Speaking of Sinclair.

"Amiee where'd ya say our office puppy went to?" Millie, who she had learned was a lawyer for the company asked as she sat down next to Amiee with a drink in hand. "I know he has a habit of being late, but to his own party? That's a new one even for him!"

"Honestly he's hopeless when it comes to time management, it's the reason he's always in the office so late sometimes," Amiee mused as she took a sip of her own drink. "He said he had some last minute things he needed to pick up and then left me to supervise if he didn't get back on time."

"Oh of course he would! Men I swear," she snickered, though there was amusement in her voice as she spoke. "Well, it's not too bad of a mess. I mean there're drinks and some amusing company I guess. Though, I wonder what's got him so tied up. Maybe he's gone back to the office?"

"Haha, I don't mind.” She actually did mind, even if it was just a little bit, but that wasn’t the point. “And I doubt it. Sinclair wouldn't miss a party, especially his party. He enjoys the company too much," Amiee continued as she fell into a comfortable conversation with the lady. "But," she added, covering the side of her face, and leaning over like she was telling a secret to Millie who was also leaning in to hear. "If he doesn't show up soon I'm liable to just start eating the food without him. I'm starving!"

Both women let out a laugh drawing a pair of eyes towards them.

"Be careful," Millie snorted bringing her drink to her lips. "That's probably a sackable offence when it comes to him. Can you imagine him coming back and all the food is gone?"

"It'll drive him mad for sure! I'm pretty sure we be his mortal enemies if we ever did that!" Amiee cackled doubling over in laughter at the thought of Sinclair marching everyone out of his flat because they had eaten all the food.

It was honestly easier to imagine than one would think considering who they were talking about. That man took his meals seriously!

"A sackable offence to who? Who are we talking about ladies?"

The voice of a man interrupted the two women, who looked up to see a red-faced middle aged man approach them and before he got near, Amiee could hear Millie hiss a soft,

"Not this dickhead." Before leveling a nasty glare at him.

He was a bit wobbly on his feet as he waddled up to them, and it was clear he was going to need to be cut off from the drinks soon in case he got too plastered before dinner was served.

"Bugger off won't you Williams? Can't you see me and our hostess are talking?"

As if he didn't hear her, Williams, whom Amiee didn't know, yet already disliked immensely, seemed to ignore the request to leave them alone, instead doing his best to join the conversation he wasn't wanted in.

"Aw come on Mills be nice," he crooned causing the blond woman's face to twist in disgust at the nickname as she looked away from the man. "Amiee isn't it! Still no sign of our friend Sinclair huh? Chaps probably lost somewhere staring at some billboard that's got him interested. Sometimes I don't think that man is all that there," Williams thought out loud as he tried to sit in the small space between the woman.

This only caused him to almost sit on Amiee's lap causing her to yelp and scoot to the opposite side of the sofa but not without her snapping at him with a,

"Hey watch it!"

"Sorry as I was saying," he continued, not paying any mind to the women who clearly did not want him to be there. "Brilliant at numbers but he's kind of odd fellow don't you think. Talkative too."

"Is that what we are calling people who are interested in a lot of things now? Because honestly I rather be friends with someone like that. Even if he is talkative, at least he has something of value to say, unlike some people," Amiee spat, still annoyed at the sudden appearance of the man and, the apparent audacity he had to insult Sinclair in his own home.

"Millie, what do you think?"

"Oh, absolutely. There's never a dull moment when Sinclair is around though," Millie paused to give the unwelcome guest a dirty look that was clearly telling him to piss off yet he stayed. "I can't say the same when it comes to some people."

The man seemed to be unaware he was nearing dangerous territory with the thinly veiled insults that he was hurling at Sinclair. And if he wasn't, well it was about to be made clear that he had overstepped.

"I mean he's a fine man, brilliant. But you have to agree he's a bit, I don't know, he seems off his rocker sometimes when he starts rambling about all those facts up in his head. It’s bloody weird!"

This had Amiee glaring at the man fiercely as he seemed to have realized what he said had crossed a line.

"No, I don't agree actually!" Amiee seethed lowly, her face hot from anger and her cheeks flushed, but not from the drinks.

Her ferocity seemed to catch both Millie and Williams off guard and had anyone else heard her, she was sure it would have caught them off guard to.

"It's fine if you don't like him, but if you're going to just insult him in his flat, at his party why even show up! If it bothers you so much, how about buggering off like you were asked to. And preferably out of here altogether."

Everyone seemed petrified for a moment as they all took in the way she had just told this man off. Someone she didn't know but already never wanted to meet again, especially with how he talked about Sinclair, who was goodness personified to her.

He had flaws like any other human being, but she wasn't going to stand for someone, especially someone supposedly on good terms with him to speak about him like that. Drunk or not.

The air was a bit tense between the three, but it seemed like luck was on their side in a manner of speaking because not seconds later, the door to the flat opened, and Sinclair was walking in with a few shopping bags in hand and a grin.

"And look everyone it's the man of the hour," Amiee cheered as she jumped from her seat to get away from the uncomfortable situation, leaving Williams confused and Millie hiding her laughter behind her glass.

"Sorry sorry hello everyone! I got caught in traffic trying to get back with some more food and stuff for us!" Sinclair explained enthusiastically as he made his way into the flat, shutting the door with his foot and greeting everyone. "I should have known I get back late, but that just means everyone is already here!"

Amiee smiled as she approached him, happy he was still in his cheerful mood even with the delay, and with all the alcohol in people's blood, they seemed to just be happy he was here. With food of course.

Finding her in the small crowd, Sinclair seemed to brighten up even more as he walked over to her while boisterously announcing,

"Also everyone say thank you to Amiee as the unwilling hostess! She's wonderful to put up with me and my demands."

Her heart leapt, and she felt herself become instantly shy when he said that. The urge to ball up a little was strong as the attention turned to her for a few seconds when a chorus of thank you's and laughter filled the air.

Mortifying wasn't the right word, but she did feel self-conscious as she nodded and gave a little wave and smile to everyone. A soft 'you're welcome' left her before Sinclair was swooped in.

"Dinner in about 30 minutes! Hopefully faster though because I'm starving! I'm stealing Amiee away for help seeing she's already done a brilliant job at keeping you lot entertained. It's a hard chore!"

There was more laughter at his announcement, as he took Amiee by the hand and began to drag her away from the party. She happily let him to, ready to get a break from the crowd of people, and that one twat.

Dragging her down the hall and into the kitchen where they could only hear the chatter faintly along with the low music that had been playing, Sinclair kept his boyish grin as he put the bags of food on the counter before turning to the woman.

"Sinclair that Williams or whatever his name is an arsehole," she stated plainly when he looked at her, not giving him time to tell her how pretty she looked with her outfit.

She must have changed when he left as she was now wearing a festive-looking red jumper blouse with a cowl neckline, along with a red headband that was adorned with a bow in her hair. Speaking of her hair, it had some more volume than it usually did which also looked quite good.

‘So cute.’  He mused in his head as he watched her brows furrow waiting for his response.

"Oh from the advisory board?" He asked nonchalantly as he closed the distance between them and wrapped his arm around her waist to hug her against him. She let out a hum as she hugged him back and deflated a bit in his arms already tired from a night that had only begun. "Oh, he's alright. He speaks his mind a lot even if it isn't the most popular thing. I think it's good to have different opinions even if they aren't said nicely. Though I do prefer them put in nicer ways no need to be snide."

"Sure, but sometimes you can have the wrong opinion and he was being snide," she snarked, as Sinclair chuckled and leaned down to press a kiss atop her head. "He decided to have a go at you before you came in and I let him know he could bugger off if he didn't like you."

"Was he drunk?"

That wasn't the question she thought she would hear.

"Yes I believe so," she answered, tilting her head up with a quizzical gaze at his question only to see amusement shine in his eyes.

"Darling you slagged off a possibly drunk man because he was mean to me did you?" Sinclair laughed in astonishment as he let go of her, only to find a pouty expression directed at him. "He probably won't even remember tomorrow, but it's lovely of you to defend my honour at a holiday party to someone you don't know. Hmm, I think it's the sweetest thing someone has ever done for me actually. Thank you Amiee!"

She sure hoped it wasn't the sweetest thing a partner had ever done for him, or she would need to talk to him about the people he had dated considering it was the least she could do. Granted she probably needed to have that pep talk too as she was no better.

Her pondering was cut short though by Sinclair who interrupted her with a cheerful,

"But also you look very pretty! I like the red on you! But red also makes me think of wine and stuff which reminds me that I'm hungry and I'm sure everyone else is!" He blabbered on as he turned towards the counter to begin taking food out of the bags. "Can you help me get all this food and stuff set up and brought out? Gosh, It seems like I'm making you do so much running around!"

The dizzying array of topics that he had just jumped through would have confused others, yet Amiee followed his train of thought perfectly, amused at how he related seemingly unrelated topics.

"Thank you 'Clair!” She beamed. “And yes, I will help you plate stuff. What kind of hostess would I be if I didn't?"

With a strong team effort, they unpacked the precooked food that he had bought for the party. Along with that, they also took things out of the fridge that had been premade and opened the oven to check on the food that had been in there staying warm.

Amiee only had to keep Sinclair from trying to eat one of the mini pork pies once. Though, when she had turned around for a second, he shoved a sausage roll in his mouth only for her to laugh at his puffed cheeks when he was caught chewing. He wasn't a very quiet eater, and it was very obvious by the sudden groan that he made that he had nicked something.

Once all the food had been plated on the fancy serving plates, and bags were tossed or stored -except one, that Sinclair said was for a surprise later. The only thing left was to bring all the food and plates out for everyone to serve themselves.

Giving each other approving looks, Sinclair leaned his head down as if he was looking for something on Amiee's side, only to find her lips being placed on his. He hummed in delight as they basked in the warm moment with each other, right before they would have to go back to being just good friends in front of everyone.

Oh, the woes of a hidden relationship.

They moaned as their lips hungrily clashed against each other, almost forgetting that someone could walk in and see them snogging like teenagers.

Pulling away, Amiee looked up at Sinclair before amusement blanketed her features.

"Sinclair here you have something on your lips," she giggled as she swiped at his lips with her thumb, trying to remove the lipstick that stained his thin lips.

He hummed as she rubbed it off before she gave him a pleased smile.

"Alright, ready to feed the hungry masses?" She asked as she picked up two different things getting ready to head for the living room.

"If by hungry masses you mean me? Then yes!" Sinclair answered enthusiastically, causing her to let out a loud laugh as she led them back into the front where people cheered as the food arrived.

The abundance of appetizers and small eats had been a hit, as everyone seemed pleased with the variety and the amount of things they could choose from. It came to no one's surprise, that there was such an abundance considering it was Sinclair hosting, and he was notorious for making sure there was plenty to go around.

Someone even complimented the egg tarts Amiee had brought, and Sinclair, once again, proudly proclaimed that she had bought them causing her to be back in the spotlight but just briefly. She would have to tell her mum that they were a hit like she knew they would be.

The party seemed to go on and on with everyone having a good time, and becoming more energetic after food was in stomachs. Someone even opted to do some mock karaoke to one of the Christmas songs that started to play, garnering everyone's attention and laughter.

Throughout the whole thing, Amiee and Sinclair would sneak looks at each other whenever he wasn't deep into a conversation, and both of them couldn't stop the smiles that grew on their lips when one saw the other.

They were hopeless. As it went on though, Amiee found herself tiring of the socialization as she had done enough for the rest of the year and some of the next. Her eyes felt tired, yet people seemed to be having fun still and Sinclair, the ever-energetic puppy, was in deep conversation with a group of three.

How he had the energy, she didn't know, but she wouldn't drag him out of his zone as she was happy to see him happy. But she needed somewhere quiet to recharge from all the noise.

So she made a decision. Surveying the crowd, she made sure no one was looking, and that everyone was talking to someone before she slowly made her way out of the lively room. If she didn't make eye contact no one would notice her.

'Amiee what are you doing you're not James Bond, this isn't a spy movie please act normal.'

Desperate times called for desperate measures, and it wasn't as if she wasn't well-versed in slipping out of crowded rooms. She was usually hardly missed in those kinds of gatherings.

The thought pulled at her heart a bit, and a frown briefly invited itself onto her lips before she quickly and quietly left the room. Once she was confident no one saw her, she kept moving down the hall until she was able to slip into Sinclair's dim bedroom, where the only light source was a lamp on his bedside table.

Cautiously, she closed the door behind her before letting out a sigh of relief.

"Freedom," she muttered to herself, as she padded towards the large bed and flopped herself face forward onto the mattress.

A long groan left her lips as she crawled on top of the bed sheets, and rolled herself onto Sinclair's side of the bed. Snuggling with his pillow, and inhaling the comforting scent that was him, she relaxed, happy to be away from the crowd just for a bit.

"Just rest my eyes for a bit, that should do it." She told herself as her eyes fluttered closed. "Just resting my eyes, that's it Amiee then you'll get up and go back and …yawn… be social."

Closing her eyes to rest them, she was unsurprisingly out like a light moments later.

It wasn't the noise that had awakened her, but the lack of it, as her bleary eyes opened to the dim room that was filled with silence. Getting her bearings together took a few more moments, and her sitting up took the same amount of time as she found herself more exhausted than before.

"Shit," she groaned as she wiped at her eyes to try and wake up. "Did I fall asleep?"

"You did!"

“Oh my god!”

Amiee shrieked, startled at the voice that suddenly came out of the en suite bathroom, which she hadn't noticed had its lights turned on.

Coming out of the room with a white t-shirt, and a pair of cozy joggers that hugged his hips just right, Amiee couldn't stop herself from ogling  Sinclair as he came towards her.

"I was wondering where you had run off to!" He started as he sat on the edge of the bed closest to her.

"God I'm sorry 'Clair," her apology was punctuated with a yawn that couldn't be stifled.

"It's okay! You looked so adorable sleeping that I felt bad about oh, uhm, what's that word you all use sometimes," he thought for a moment before finding the word he was looking for. "Mither? Felt bad if I mithered you?"

His attempt to use the local slang made her giggle, as it was so odd to hear anything but his posh upper class London accent.

"You wouldn't have mithered me at all, I would have gotten up, I was just dead tired talking to all those people," she explained while crawling over to his side and leaning her head on his shoulder. "Sorry love, I'll make it up to you at the next party that I know you'll be having."

"Which will be your birthday party you know. I still can't believe you haven't had one before that's absurd you deserve to be celebrated and I want to celebrate you but, you need to tell me where you want to have it."

"Sinclair no it's fine! Please don't make such a fuss about it.” She begged, wrapping her arms around his forearm and putting her chin on his shoulder which was accompanied by an endearing pout. “I don't mind really. It’s not a big deal for me to not have a party, just being with you during it is good enough for me."

"But it is a big deal because you were born and it makes me happy that you are here. And I want to celebrate my favorite person is that so wrong?" Sinclair asked, eyeing her with that longing look that he knew she was weak too. 

Ugh, how could she say no when he put it in such terms and looked at her like that. Damn him!

"No, it's not but, hmmm fine, let's make a compromise.” She offered which had him perk up just like a puppy hearing a door open or food being poured into a bowl. “We can have dinner somewhere but only with six people at the most, including me and you."

Hmm. Six people didn't sound too much like a party to Sinclair, but he decided he was happier that she was letting him do something special for her birthday to care. Plus it was her birthday.

"Okay! Deal darling a dinner party with six people it is.” He agreed energetically. “I'll let you be in charge of the guest list since it's for you. Let me know if you need help wrangling people. I do love people wrangling."

Of course, he did, though he usually didn't have to wrangle people, as he already had a magnetic and sunny personality that people were drawn to automatically.

Great, now she just had to find four people to celebrate within a week or two time. That was next week Amiee’s problem though, as Amiee of the present was tired and ready to just cuddle up into bed and snooze.

"Oh speaking of birthdays and holidays!" Sinclair chirped out of the blue now that her birthday event was settled. "I have a gift for you that I want you to have! It was one of the reasons I was late this evening, which sorry, but thank you for keeping everyone company. Everyone said you were lovely as a hostess!"

"Sinclair what did you buy me now," Amiee whined, as he scooted off the bed and headed to his closet to rummage for the item he had bought today. "You always buy me stuff you know, and you don't have to," she continued as he disappeared, and then reappeared in the room with a medium-sized rectangular box that was just a tad bit larger than his palm. "And it's always such pretty stuff that I hate I can't display at home because my parents and Angie would ask about it."

Walking back over to her, and sitting down, Sinclair grabbed Amiee gently as she wobbled due to the sudden motion of the bed dipping. Grinning at her, he leaned over to kiss her temple and then her lips, which she accepted with a soft noise as she leaned against him.

"I know, I know, but I saw it and it looked so cute and I thought of you because you're also very cute darling.” His compliment had her bashfully dropping her head and shaking it, as a sweet giggle left her lips that made him all the more enthused about giving her the gift. “But it also reminded me that you've never had a Christmas tree, or a Christmas topper for the tree! So I thought well this would be nice to put atop the tree this year instead of a star and you would also have a topper," he chattered happily as he handed the velvet box over to Amiee who apprehensively took it. "Plus I love being a giver of gifts, especially when I can gift you with things!"

The fabric of the box was so soft, and upscale that she wouldn't be surprised if he had paid the same amount for the box as the gift itself. It made her heart ache a bit only because while she was sure she would love it, there was guilt hanging around telling her she didn't deserve it. Making her feel bad that she couldn't reciprocate his generosity with her own.

He never complained about the gifts she would give him, even if they weren’t as luxurious as the ones he could afford to give her. Yet, he was always thrilled when she brought him something. And while she was sure he wasn't faking it, considering it was hard for him to fake emotions, she still felt a bit bad.

Noticing her hesitation, his hand fell to her lower back patting her gently as she played with the box in her hand.

"Go on darling," he murmured leaning over, and pressing a kiss to her cheek. "Don't be shy open it! I want to see if you like it!"

Shooting him a timid smile, she looked back down at the box and took the top off delicately placing it down on the nightstand. In the box was filler paper, which she removed from the top only to find at the bottom a beautiful looking angel.

It had dark long hair, which had a golden crown made of flowers sitting atop its head. Brown eyes, with red paint on its lips, and golden angel wings that curved towards the front of the doll’s body. The dress it had on was a beautiful shiny red with golden flowers, and a red sash tied around its waist. The thing was absolutely gorgeous and Amiee was terrified of anything happening to it as she picked it up.

"An angel for my angel! She reminded me of you when I saw it!" He mused and it was so cheesy, but it didn't matter as Amiee was speechless at the gift and how sweet it was. She honestly would probably cherish it forever as she couldn’t take her eyes off the little thing. 

"Did you know angel toppers were the first ornaments people made by hand? Usually with straw because well it seemed like everyone used to have that long ago,” Sinclair rattled off. “We then started making glass ones just to put on top of the tree! Quite a long history for something so small."

"She's beautiful Sinclair," Amiee whispered so hushly that he hadn't heard her as he rambled on about the history of Christmas tree toppers that he knew far too much of.

Her fingers brushed the doll's cheek, which was smooth like the porcelain it was made from. And the satin, or whatever its dress was made of, was just as smooth and didn't snag like cheaper quality fabric.

She was so beautiful, and Amiee felt so silly when she felt emotion bubble in her throat as she looked at the doll. It was just a doll yet, it meant so much more to her than he could ever know.

"Thank you, thank you I love her so much," Amiee beamed leaning over and kissing Sinclair's cheek just in time to hide a tear or two that had slid down her own cheeks.

"Can we put her up soon?" She asked turning to the side to wipe her eyes and put the beautiful thing back in the box but not without admiring it some more. "I mean if you don't mind us changing what's on the tree already?"

A large smile shined on his face and he seemed to be on board with the idea considering that he was visibly vibrating with excitement. 

"Yes! Of course! We can do it tomorrow!" He exclaimed before looking at the clock and quickly correcting himself. "Well, later today actually but I think we could both use some sleep right?"

“Absolutely! I'm pretty sure my nap made me even more tired. But first I need to shower and get myself out of these clothes." She mumbled, remembering she had fallen asleep with her party outfit still on. "Mind if I steal a jumper for the night though?" She asked, putting the top of the box back on before getting off the bed to ransack Sinclair's closet for any jumper she could find.

"Oh wait I'll get one!" He suddenly shouted shooting off the bed and towards the closet, startling Amiee with how quick he moved.

It was those long legs of his.

"Here you go though darling!" He announced after a second of rummaging through the space before presenting her with another well-worn jumper that he had but not without adding, "if you could bring some of the ones you've nicked back it be great. I think I'm running low on them and I don't want to buy new ones. I could...but I like my old ones better more worn in you understand right?"

Brushing her confusion aside from his sudden rush toward the closet, her face turned warm at his ask before she let out a raucous laugh.

He was right though, she had stolen a few to keep for her own. She couldn't help it! They were comfy and she liked how his clothes drowned her smaller form. Also, they smelled like him and well…she liked snuggling in them when she felt down. But he was right, and for the sake of making sure he stayed comfortable, she would bring some of them back. Only some though because had to keep her inventory stocked up too.

"Hahah yes sir! Sorry, I’ll make sure to return this one and some of the others."

She saluted him before taking the article of clothing, and making her way to the bathroom for a nice relaxing shower. As she made her way to the bathroom, Sinclair gazed at her and kept watch until the door was closed and he could hear the spray of water from the shower start. Once he was sure she was in the shower, he walked back over to his closet where he had kicked a little black bag over so she couldn't see it, had she followed him to grab the jumper.

Getting on his knees, he reached for it and dragged it into the light before pulling another velvet box out of it. This time it was a much smaller box than the one he had given Amiee and more octagonal. Looking behind him, he made sure she hadn't come out of the bathroom, and when he was confident she wouldn't pop up, he opened the box to gaze at the ring that was sat cozily inside.

A beautiful rose gold band with a tracer attached to it. It had an oval garnet center that was surrounded by a halo of diamonds which were themselves surrounded by a diamond shape that had the same jewel in it. The jeweler had said it was a north star design when he picked it and he immediately thought it perfect for her.

He had gotten the call it had been delivered to the store before the party and he decided to fetch it considering he be out anyway. It was quite worth being late for the festivities, and he hoped that when it was time to use it, she would agree when he told her. Grinning at it, he closed the box and stowed it along with the bag somewhere a little more discreet while thinking about the moment he would present it to her. 

It was the only thing he could think about the rest of the night, and even more so when they were both cuddled in bed after her shower. Amiee’s head rested against Sinclair’s chest, and his arms were wrapped securely around her small frame as she fell asleep to the sound of his heartbeat. He hoped that this would one day be an everyday occurrence, and as he turned the lamp on his side off he couldn’t help but kiss the top of her head with a soft murmur of,

“I love you, sweet dreams angel.”

A/N: 🥹🥹 if you've read the story this ending may be bittersweet but i promise these lovebirds will be happy! thanks @renee561 for the angel topper idea it was so cute i couldn't resist not using it 😘 I hope this gave some warm fuzzy feels!

Also the ring inspo.

Tag: @deepperplexity , @mercurial-make-em-ups , @ringaroundthetown

[dizzybee03]

Swinging on a Saturday night

Beau “Cyclone” Simpson x OC Ryan Reagan story

It was hard to believe that a little over a week ago Beau and Ryan had been meeting for a drink at The Brass Bullet as "just friends" and tonight they had gone on a dinner date. Beau’s jaguar pulled into Ryan’s driveway and he got out to open the door for her.

“That may have been the best fettuccini Alfredo I’ve ever had! And that tiramisu was to die for! I’m gonna have to run 10 miles tomorrow to make up for eating it but, it was totally worth it” Ryan said. “It was pretty great wasn’t it. They make the pasta fresh daily. Solomon brought me there for lunch a few months ago and I can’t get enough of the place now ” Beau replied shutting the car door as Ryan got out.

“It’s still pretty early, want to come in for a drink" Ryan asked? “We can sit out back on my porch swing for a bit, unless you need to get home?"  “There’s no place else I’d rather be right now” Beau replied looking into Ryan’s eyes.  Ryan grabbed his hand and led him up the front path, stopping to unlock her front door.

“I’ve got some Sam Adams Octoberfest  or wine- I didn’t think to grab any whiskey when I was at the store this morning” Ryan told him as she walked back towards her kitchen kicking her high heels off as she went. Ryan’s home was a modest bungalow and while it wasn’t messy, it definitely looked lived in.There was a basket of laundry abandoned in the hallway, a lone running shoe just inside the kitchen doorway and a weeks worth of mail strewn on the kitchen counter.  “A Sam Adams would be fine” Beau said, glancing around while he rolled the sleeves of his button up shirt. Grabbing 2 beers from the fridge and the bottle opener out of a drawer Ryan led the way out the sliding door off the kitchen-. It opened up to a large porch that faced a spacious fenced in backyard.

“Have a seat” Ryan said motioning to a porch swing adorned with a padded cushion and comfy looking pillows…”I almost forgot the best part” Ryan told Beau, turning to plug in a cord. The back porch was instantly illuminated by several stands of white lights.  Beau patted the spot next to him as Ryan smiled and sat down. Beau casually draped his arm across the back of the swing, his fingers trailing softly over Ryan’s arm. She leaned into him as he tips her chin up- and brushes his lips over hers. Ryan deepens the kiss, her tongue l dancing along his bottom lip seeking entrance into his mouth. Beau’s hands are in her hair and Ryan lets out a quiet moan. She feels so good pressed against him but they have to break apart to catch their breath.

“I was thinking” Beau started, “maybe we should take things slow." 

“What do you mean?” 

“Look, maybe I’m old fashioned but I’m scared shitless that I’ll  ruin the best friendship I’ve got because we rushed into having sex. My biggest fear in life is that I end up alone because I had something great and let it slip through my fingers.”

Ryan took a drink before turning to Beau and saying “I get it, sex complicates things and we need to figure out what these feelings we have really are before going to the next level. And you are old fashioned but it’s one of the things I like about you.”

“What else do you like about me?” He asked, grinning .

“Well, let’s see- for starters I love that you’re  loyal. You didn’t have to start meeting me on Joe’s birthday every year but you did. You’re career oriented and even though you may pretend not to, you care about the people who work under you. I love your dry sense of humor. You're so sarcastic that sometimes you say something and don’t even realize how funny it really is. Hell, I even like the fact that you iron your jeans”

“I do NOT iron my jeans!”

Ryan laughed and threw her hands up saying “ok, ok- I mean it does look like you iron your jeans and you don’t get military style creases like that without ironing your jeans, but whatever you say” she said pointing to the front of Beau's dark washed pants.

He laughed, turning in the swing to face Ryan and said “ok, it’s my turn. I like how dependable you are. I know for a fact that it doesn’t matter who asks you for help, you're always willing to go the extra mile for them. I like the way you’re comfortable in your own skin. You can be just as comfortable makeup free  in jeans and t- shirts as you are wearing a ball gown with your hair up and high heels on. But what I think I like the most is that once you commit, you go all in. You don’t do anything half assed.”

“I just don’t want to disappoint you. What if you decide that you suddenly can’t stand the way I’m constantly running behind. Or what if you find out I’m really not good enough for you” Ryan whispered.

“That’s why we’re taking things slow….but you don’t need to worry about not being good enough for me. I think we balance each other out. I need someone to tell me it’s ok to occasionally wear the pair of jeans that have been laying onthe floor- that they don’t always need to be ironed”. He said with a smile.

“I KNEW IT!!!!!”

“But seriously I know I can be stuffy at times, it comes with being an admiral. I need you to tell me it’s ok to let loose now and then.”

“To taking it slow” Ryan said lifting her half empty beer bottle  towards Beau. “To taking to slow” he said, clinking his bottle to Ryan’s.

“I had fun tonight” she said “Yeah, me too. I’m hoping you’ll let me take you out again. There is a new little bistro I’ve been wanting to try.” Beau told her. “I’d love to! The next few days are pretty crazy for me though. I start training a new recruit at work Monday and will be working 6 nights in a row. I’ve heard this kid is pretty green, only he doesn’t realize it.  I’m honestly not looking forward to it. I’ve been thinking maybe I shouldn’t have turned down that opening for Sgt. Last year.  Then I wouldn’t have to train cocky new boots anymore.” Beau took a sip of his beer before replying “ You’re a great cop and you’ve got so much knowledge to pass on.   It must feel good knowing you’re teaching them how to be a good police officer.” Ryan just shrugged in response.

The two sat in comfortable silence, with Beau’s arm draped across Ryan’s back, swinging on the porch swing for what felt like an eternity.

“Gosh it’s after midnight, I really should head home”.  Beau stated looking at his watch but making no movements to get up.

“Yeah” Ryan replied contentedly as she continued to swing next to Beau. “Or you could always just sit next to me and swing for a little longer.”

And that’s what he did.

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

I’m brand new to writing and wanted to thank everyone for reading! I’ve enjoyed writing for Beau and Ryan and plan to continue writing for them!!

-Thank you Donna for all your help 😘

[mandrakebrew]

JanAUary 5: Monster/human

Words: 1,423 Rating: Teen Content Warning: oc x canon, talk of blood, alcohol

From this prompt list, I will be exploring this au more later on, it's too much fun not to

Transylvania has a bit of a vampire problem. If not for that fact, Skull Face might have perished with the rest of his family when his village was attacked during WWII. He was a child, and in far too much pain to truly understand what he'd been offered at that hospital days later. Now he's stuck somewhere between here and hell. A parasite feeding off others to survive.

However, there are a few things that make him feel alive again. His favorite human, for example.

Who's now currently sipping on a glass of wine, waiting for their commander to arrive. They'd offered him a key, and told him he's welcome anytime. He explained that it wouldn't work like that. Skull Face had to be invited in every time.

One of the annoying drawbacks to being a vampire.

When Palmer finally hears a knock on the door, they go and open it. The crisp winter air blowing inside as they do. The XO is standing on their doorstep. His pale face illuminated by the apartment's light a stark contrast against the night and his dark clothes.

“Evening.“

”Evening,“ Palmer smiles at him. They start to lean their body outside, as if going in for a kiss.

As Palmer predicted, Skull Face attempts to wrap his arms around them and drag them outside. However, they jerk back inside, leaving him empty handed.

They laugh at him, his face quickly turning from surprise to annoyance.

“Something the matter?”

He sighs, “You know what it is.”

”Alright come in then, you're letting in the cold anyway.“

”And here I thought you liked the cold,“ He enters, shutting the door before removing his hat and jacket. Skull Face, lacking body heat, was nice to hold during the summer months. Something Palmer took advantage of often. Apparently he had made a note of that.

”I do, but not that much. My electric bill doesn’t like it either.“

”So, how was work?“ Palmer asked as they walked over to collect their glass of wine they left on their coffee table.

”It was fine,“ He answered following behind them. He sat down on their couch, expecting them to join him.

Instead, they sat in their armchair, outside his reach. They know why he's here. It's been exactly eight weeks since the last time he fed on them. He's a very punctual man, especially when it comes to this.

”What are you doing?“ He is not a patient man, however.

”We have plenty of time, you know. The sun doesn't rise for a few more hours.“ Palmer responds, taking another sip from their glass. Even if that wasn't the case, it wouldn't be the first time he'd slept through the day in their bedroom.

Also the doctor would be lying if they said they weren't testing their own patience right now. Though unlike the commander, they enjoy the building anticipation.

”You don't think it's been long enough?“ It's not their blood that he's after, not entirely. Palmer alone would not be enough to keep him going. Between his position at the CIA and Palmer being a surgeon, getting blood bags wasn't difficult. He also catches the occasional enemy soldier while out on long missions in foreign countries.

No, he's after something a bit more... Tactile.

”Let me finish my wine at least,“ It was the last glass of the bottle.

They had learned if Palmer drinks beforehand, it gets in his system when he feeds on them. The only way he can actually get drunk.

They'd asked him the day before, and he had no qualms about it. Though it had been less his desire to get drunk and more him not wanting to stop Palmer from doing so.

Skull Face huffs, and resigns to waiting.

A small laugh escapes through their nose. They then down the rest of the glass in one go. Their commander's been patient enough, they decide.

Palmer sets the glass down, before going over and straddling their commander's legs. Their shirt comes off before they pull his head forward to kiss him.

Their tongues meet, and Palmer pushes theirs inside his mouth in order to nick it on one of his fangs.

An action that causes him let out a small moan, before gripping their hips and pulling them closer.

After a few moments of this, Skull Face lifts them up and maneuvers them so he's on top of them, supported by his elbows and knees across the couch. His mouth trails down from their mouth to their neck. The faded smell of antiseptic still clinging to them. Underneath it, and more importantly to him, he could smell his reward.

He pulled back a bit, looking at the collection of faded scars from previous feedings. That was another thing about this he craved. Evidence that this had happened. Evidence the doctor was all his.

Palmer felt the same. They were a nice reminder of him on nights they had to be apart. Though it was a slight pain in the ass to cover them in foundation. A small price in their eyes.

Skull Face runs his still gloved hand over their hair before pulling gently to get them to tilt their head. His other hand resting on Palmer's bicep.

Palmer gasps when he begins to kiss their neck again, left arm wrapping around his torso. Their neck was always sensitive, something their commander took advantage of.

The only warning they get is a swipe of his tongue along their neck before they feel two points of white hot pain. But that quickly fades and is replaced with spreading warmth. It's something in the saliva, the commander had once explained to them. The glycoprotein Draculin, or some variant of it that vampires had. Palmer can't really recall at the moment. Not with his body slowly relaxing onto them more, or the small sounds of pleasure he's letting out right next to their ear. His thumb absentmindedly rubbing their arm and his other hand slowly running through their hair.

Idly letting the blood run out of their neck before swallowing, he's in no rush now. Palmer's long since shut their eyes, hand moved to the back his head. A mix of affection and his position as their commander quells what fears they should have. The first time Palmer saw him feed, he was very much not taking his time. In some jungle, Palmer walked in on Skull Face with a soldier's limp body pinned to the wall. It had been days since he last ran out of blood bags and he was desperate. That's how Palmer even learned what he is, his status as a vampire being on a very need-to-know basis.

The XO's head was beginning to buzz from the hot alcohol-laced blood, and the warmth of the doctor's body underneath him made an addicting combination. He feels his body relaxing even more on top of them.

Some time passes, Palmer isn't sure how much, and eventually their commander pulls away a bit before licking the wound with his tongue to clean it. He fully moves off of them to retrieve the first aid kit already sitting out on the coffee table.

Palmer sits up, and feels their blood trickling down their chest.

Before dressing the wound, he moves and cleans the spot again, before placing a square bandage over it. Before he can get to the blood on their chest, Palmer wipes it up with their fingers, before offering it to their commander.

Still high on his bloodlust, and possibly the alcohol too, he has no issues taking their fingers into his mouth. His tongue running over them to clean what little blood is left before he pulls his mouth away. There's a look of hunger in his eyes that makes Palmer shudder. He lunges forward to capture their lips again.

Palmer tastes their own blood on his lips, which only intensifies when their tongues meet. The doctor pulls at him until they're lying back down again, his body weight pleasantly on top of them.

Eventually they both come down from their respective euphorias, save for the alcohol, though that pales in comparison. Skull Face settles his head in the crook of their neck. Maybe it just started, or maybe Palmer missed it before but there's a deep rumbling in the commander's chest. If they dare bring it up, he'll stop.

Before drifting off, they make a mental note to suggest doing this in one of their beds next time, having no desire to move their vampire now.

[totally-not-deacon]

Friday Kiss Tag!!

Tagged by @throughtrialbyfire! Dragging @molliehaswords, @rogueshadeaux, @adventuresofmeghatron, and @just-another-wasteland-merc if you wanna go.

Rules: post a smooch between your OCs for Friday. It can be as light as a peck or as intense as a makeout. It can be romantic or platonic or familial. As long as a smooch takes place it’s free reign!

I've never done this tag before, and I have no clue why I'm feeling shy over posting it considering it'll be on AO3 in a few weeks anyway lmao. Most'll be under the tag, enjoy!

He bought them each a bottle, on her tab, of course. Maybe she didn’t exactly need it, but no one said he was a good influence. The quietest corners of the Mare had turned all but silent in the late hour, the closest they could get to being truly alone within the city walls. Neither spoke at first, not needing to. As he said, he’d been there.

“You look good out of your armor.” She rested heavy against his shoulder, looking up at him with a mischievous lilt to her voice. “…even with the helm.”

“Well, of course I do. It’s those pure, Altmer genes at work.” he said with obviously put-on arrogance, holding his head high.

“Sure thing, farm boy.”

He sighed, “I never should have told you that.”

“Really though, it’s nice to be able to feel you for once.” “Feel me?” he teased, keeping his tone light despite the twinge in his gut. Gods help him. “I mean – I,” Her cheeks darkened, shoving his shoulder and laughing. Her drink sloshed, leaving droplets on the tabletop. “You know what I mean.” “Hm, can’t say that I do.” She could hear the grin in his voice. “You’re a bad liar.” Her eyes glittered in challenge, as well as something else. Something deeper. Something dangerous. “And you have a terrible gambling face.”

“Says the mer that gets to hide his.” She leaned in close – too close – tapping a finger at the center of his helmet sight, right between his eyes. Unbeknownst to her, they flicked from her lips and back to her own. He felt his throat tighten, getting hard to breathe.

Oh, no. The wine must be hitting him extra hard tonight. There was no way he was this drunk already. He should have eaten Xelzaz’s cooking, he really should have. Oh, no, no, no. His mouth opened of its own accord. “Close your eyes.”

Bad idea. Terrible idea. What was he doing?She grinned, eyes fluttering shut and waiting patiently. Oh, if he’d misread all this, let Auriel smite him right here and now. If he didn’t, she would. A quick glance around the inn – still as empty as it was the last time he checked all of thirty seconds ago. He lifted his helmet sight to just above his nose. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Her breath hitched, feeling his own against her.

Too late now. His lips met hers, plush and eager, just waiting for this moment. A hand curled along her jaw, drawing her in further. She leaned into the touch with a pleased, surprised hum, a hand resting on his chest.

Nebarra pulled back, eyes lingering on the blush creeping up her cheeks and the soft smile she gave him, eyes still dutifully closed for him. He resisted the urge to lean back in, to capture her mouth once again. He wanted her fingers in his hair, his name – his real name – on her lips. He wanted, he wanted –

He slid the guard back down on his helm. Feeling her relax against his side with a content, if tired sigh, he finally released the breath he’d been holding. They were still blissfully alone, he hadn’t been shouted to pieces, and the world hadn’t ended… yet. Now if only he could get his damned heart rate under control before he dropped dead on the spot.

[hibiscusheir]

Katsuki Bakugo x shy!Reader

a/n: more mha since it's fresh in my brain TwT- also! i have a request I am working on!! if you have any more, feel free to send them to me! i also can answer questions if you have any :]

Genre: Fluff

Pronouns: No specific ones are mentioned, can be taken as fem, masc, or gn :)

Contains: Bakugo x Reader, Hawks x Reader, Dabi x Reader

CW: Cursing, probably very OOC, reader has a bit of social anxiety, bit of overthinking, self indulgent ngl, mention of alcohol

Katsuki Bakugo

Katsuki had invited you to hang out with the two of yours's group of friends, the Bakusquad. Mina and Denki had it all planned out: all of you would meet up in Katsuki's room at six o'clock PM (6pm) and play card games, eat snacks, drink a little bit of alcohol (at least until you all got tipsy), and overall have fun.

"I dunno, Katsu..." You had replied to his 'invite', knowing well you could only handle so much social interaction in one day.

"If you need to leave, just give me the word. I don't care if they'll miss us, you're more important to me. But at least try." His words were soft, not pointed like they usually were. It made you sigh and nod your head.

You all met up and began the festivities that night by playing Uno. The usual events were happening; Katsuki yelling at Eijirou and Denki for supposedly cheating at the game; Mina and Hanta dominating the game; you were watching it all unveil.

You had noticed your anxiety beginning to spike as you spoke less and less as the night continued after the game was over. No one had really taken notice of this, besides Katsuki who held your hand for a moment, looked you in the eyes, and let go, continuing on talking to Eijirou. It wasn't until Mina asked you a question that things began to go downhill.

"Hey, (Y/N)! Do you want a drink? We've got whiskey, tequila, wine... we could probably go find something else if you want?" She tilted her head to the side holding her own glass of wine.

"Uh..." you paused, unsure of what to say. It was a school night, and you probably shouldn't be drinking in the first place. But would they think you were lame? You had known all of them for a few months since you started dating Katsuki, but there was still a possibility. "N-No thanks, I'm alright-!"

Denki scoffed, "Lame!" but swiftly murmured an apology as Katsuki smacked him upside the head. Everyone laughed but you. You were stuck in your own head. Of course, you were lame. How could you fit into this group? You shouldn't have even come, you knew this would turn out badly. You knew-

"I'm turning in for the night with (Y/N). You guys continue," Katsuki announced to the group, standing up and walking over to you. He held out a hand for you to grab and pull yourself up. You did and he led you to the door, still holding on. No one protested and simply said goodbye. "You looked spaced out back there. You probably didn't realize it, but you were shaking. You do that when you're anxious," he didn't look at you and instead keep his gaze forward as you two walked down the hall to your dorm room. "They're annoying as hell. Don't beat yourself up about it, babe."

You smiled and leaned your head into his shoulder. When you finally reached your door, you opened it, pulled him inside, and kissed him softly as you shut it behind you. "Thank you, Katsu. It means the world to me."

He grumbled and kissed you again.

-

a/n: i’m actually so sorry this took so long to post- it’s been sitting in my drafts for like a month and i just had no motivation to write. at first it was gonna be a handful of characters x reader (separate) and then i narrowed it down to three and, again, had no motivation, so i just cut it off to bakugo. i still hope you enjoy this and hopefully it won’t happen next post :) also, refer to my oc post bc i may make a post about them <3