#i want this to reach my fruity audience it needs to reach

[michael-after-hours]

Since the musketeers book is public domain material, I should just snatch it up and make a much, much gayer lover story out of it and make them all fruity...

[dballzposting]

okay this is gonna sound maybe kinda wild but i need you to bear with me here. on account of i just had this thought but i have hit post limit and you're the only person i can trust with this

videl is a whiskey drinker. you know this, i know this, everyone knows this. it doesn't affect her. she's been sneaking a little bit ever since she was big enough to reach the bottle, bc Dad said it was a Real Man's Drink and she had something to prove.

Videl does not drink to excess, but even drunk videl is not that much different from normal videl. maybe a little floppier. maybe a little less testy. whatever.

but gohan?

gohan starts with wine. it's a low alcohol content. it's refined, it's classy, it fits the image of the future he wants. and, most importantly, he wouldn't feel embarrassed if his mom found out he had a glass of wine. She wouldn't be happy about him drinking alcohol, but she would Understand.

wrong fucking move.

he has one glass. He hates the way it makes him feel. The control he's fought so hard for slips away. he melts into Dionysus' bestial embrace.

all of a sudden his instincts kick in and he's fighting for control silently in his own mind. Stone-faced and wild-eyed, he sits alone in his dark bedroom. And when Videl opens the door, he makes unblinking eye contact. For several moments, her heart freezes and she understands that her husband is truly half-alien; something wretched from beyond the stars lurks in his chest.

he says, with no emotion expressed, 'we're alive, you and I.'

and her heart resumes

she walks up to the bed and sits on her knees next to gohan. she softly touches his face, and he gently, reverently, takes her forearm in his mouth like a dog.

she strokes his hair with her other hand, and he lets go. he looks up at her with sad, sad eyes. he speaks again

'I want to hunt a rabbit. not like a man, with guns and traps and ki, but like a quick and clever creature. the claws on my hands and the teeth in my mouth.'

and then, in the dim light of the hallway, videl looks at the nightstand and sees a cup and a bottle with just enough wine missing to deduce he has had one (1) glass of Sauvignon Blanc.

and after cooking up the steak she was saving for after she won the poker tournament tomorrow to sate gohan's bloodhunger, she puts him to bed and calls up Chi-Chi.

(I don't have an ending for this i just think that most aliens in dbz, saiyans especially, have a really low alcohol tolerance for reasons that would take forever to explain, and that gohan especially would be weird bc he has had so much training specifically to deal with his instincts and emotions, and that alcohol would interfere with the execution of that training but not the understanding of it)

thank you if you took the time to read this!

thank you if you took the time to read this!

Hey I think I need to answer this now like right now becos it was sent tonight and there is no way that this will be permissible tomorrow.

OK WElll let's see here let's break this down. Have no fear audience members we will get throuhg thsi

OK first of all

im sleepy let me think about this one.

You Have Hit Post Limit Yet Again.

Videl drinks whiskey the same way she smokes cigars ok got it. She's always been able to detect on some level the vacancy in her father where his spine should be so she's always known that titles like "Real Man" were empty aesthetics and that she herself captured the REAL ideals without having to boast it. But at some point she has to say something to give people something to listen to when their eyes fail them. She drinks that whiskey and she doesn't need to but she's damn good at it

Wine "fits the image of the future [Gohan] wants" ... It's a future that has the luxury to build itself on levels of social games like aesthetics and class and propriety ... it has the luxury of peace. Plus it's a fun fruity color. Lol.

THE IDEA THAT ONE (1) GLASS OF WINE JUST COMPLETELY FUCKING UNDOES HIM ?

He's had to fight for control and this control just puts its hat on and walks out the frontal cortex at the slightest flavor of alcohol. Like Ok I'm out. Bye

OK like actually everything about Gohan & Videl's relationship and interactions is completely the notion of Wearing Class on top of Beastliness. A dapper hat and bloody fangs. Vampires in the city. Complex mammalian social interactions being the most phylogenetically recent adaption to the nervous system and it necessarily has communications with the "lower" systems and making sense of the whole system is what makes us human. In my earlier post today I almost said something about Videl marrying the knives of intellect with the force of shadows but i coudnt figure out how to phrase it. I still can't. My point is that I think that this ask will cohere going forward but let's find out

He would sit there stone faced in the dark willing the moment to pass that is so Goahn ...

She literally would understand perfectly and she would give him her arm. He's an alien and something beyond the stars lurks unarticulated yet thriving in his being and she would see that and duely freeze as a human ought but she would feel like "FINALLY something that fucking MAKES SENSE" like she would get it

Because she KNOOOWS that she's gonna win the poker tournamnet. Gonna be honest. I think that it's gonna be Krillin's lucky night. Unless it's a woman-only tournament. Then I'm thinking that Bulma almost wins until A18 smoothly takes over at the last second. But Videl wins the other times. We just can't all be winners allof the time....

She's cooking the steak and he's pacing like a sad dog miserably musing that "it's not gonna be enough" and she has to be like "Look how red it is. Look how warm. Pretend it's fresh-killed." and Gohan remebers when he was a little boy when he was surviving in the wild, there was this dickhead dinosaur who always tried to get at him and Gohan would slice off a bit of its tail and eat it every time he won the fight. And the dinosaur kept trying. And Gohan almsot felt bad about it but now he's understasnding more than ever that winning or losing are just the outcomes of the NECESSARY NEED TO HUNT, it was righteous and essential that he and that dinosaur continuously engaged with each other and the dinosaur had no choice by nature. so he doesnt feel bad anymore in fact he feels thrilled at having partaken. And he feels big for winning. And he eats the steak and Videl offers that red wine goes good with red meat and he says NO PLEASE NO GOD. NO

OK like yes in the dragon ball that we see on screen it would track for Videl to call Chichi on the phone and garner a light commiseration re: Alien Husbands without actually disclosing any details at all, and even gather some productive insight or info. BUT The Chichi that I know is like "Laura" by Billy Joel and everything is about her feelings and so we honestly wanna keep her as far from the genuine lived experience of others as possible.

I'll believe you about the alcohol thign.

Also I'm gonna interject and say that Feeling your Feelings w/o judgement and w/o needing to take action about them is so imporatant and I wish that Gohan wouldnt fight himself down so much.

But I get it like he's more than an animal he's an alien and there's nothing more primal than being the improbable lovechild of a human and an alien and he will never know if what he is feeling is "acceptable" or "alien and fucked up" and he fears it all same

EVERYBIODY SLEEP TIGHT or WAKE UP !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[hotdamnhunnam]

Can I request for Raymond Smith these please? :)

👩‍🍳🏖🔮

Thanks for your request for my Emoji Fic Fest! 💗

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Beach Balls

Pairing: Raymond Smith x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, sex on the beach, public-ish (brief reference assuming there’s an audience) Word Count: ~1.3k Emoji Prompt: 👩‍🍳🏖🔮 (key words are in bold)

He’s giving you his bitch, please face.

You’re giving him your beach, please face, because Ray’s aversion to beaches is honestly such a disgrace. His OCD ass really needs to get over his hatred of salt in his slicked hair and fine grains of sand stuck all over the place.

You’ve stepped out of the kitchen with something hot clutched in your hands as you come to join him on the couch. He’s a grump and a grouch. Yet be that as it may, by the end of the day, your goal is to take him to the shore and you’re certain it’s not out of reach.

He repeats himself loud and clear, same shit you always hear. “I am not going to the beach.”

“I knew you would say no. I baked your favorite tart to tempt you though. It’s ginger peach.”

He can tell, by the comforting smell, blend of butter and sugar and spice absolutely divine. “You’re too kind. But do you really think baked goods will change my mind?”

“Baked goods and something else perhaps…” you purr as you settle in place straddling his lap. You know exactly how to get your man to fall into your trap. “Remember when we went to see that fortuneteller just for kicks, her crystal ball declared that I’m the only weakness in your fortress? That I’d always find the holes in your resolve and get your brick walls to collapse?”

He does remember as it had been pretty recent. Just the other weekend. And indeed once Raymond feels the heat of you that always hits him in his crotch and in his heart, hotter than this freshly baked tart… he worries his resistance is already weakened.

And you can sense it too, the way he melts for you, as you proceed to feed your man a big forkful of flaky crust and sweet syrupy peach. You whisper words into his ear sure to paint pictures in his head that fucking stick. You’ve always known what makes him tick. “I want to fuck you on the beach. Wet sand beneath and blazing sun above, as we make hot passionate love, waves crashing all around us while you pound this cunt with that big fucking dick.”

Of course it works—he groans around the peachy mouthful that you fed him and you flash a wicked smirk, as you pull out the sticky fork. Crumbs of the crust and traces of the fruity filling are still clinging to the tines and your tongue cleans them off with a sensuous lick.

You knew that shit would do the trick. Especially now as you level up your game by dealing his alpha male pride a playful little kick. “But I’m not sure you’ve got the balls to do the dirty out in public.”

Ray gulps down his bite of tart and then glares up at you appalled. He will not stand for such an insult, not at all. “You of all people should know better than to doubt my fucking balls.”

You shrug and roll your eyes, grinding down on the bulge between his thighs. “The closest that you’ve ever come to fucking me in public was a private bathroom stall. Or in my office with the door locked but that doesn’t count as public just because we could hear voices in the halls.”

“Bitch are you really testing me?”

At that you get up off his lap and casually head toward the door with tart in hand and grab your beach bag, which you had already packed. Wink back at him suggestively. “I guess we’ll see.”

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

“Is this public enough for you?”

He says it in a huff—grating and gruff, the brush of his beard ever coarser now that salt and sand have stuck into the scruff. You’re both sharply aware that others may be watching and no doubt loving the view. It’s not as if you’re putting on a show on purpose for the world to watch you two, but there’s just such a thrill in knowing passing strangers could stroll by and see your man’s bare backside thrusting viciously while he’s on top of you.

It’s obvious that Ray still hates this place. Clear from the gritting of his teeth and from the grimace creasing up his sweat-streaked face. He hates the scrape of sand beneath you and the brutal beating of the sun above you. But you love when there’s a little bit of hatred in the way that he makes love to you.

Never towards you, of course—rather towards what you make him feel and make him do, which is a whole lot fucking worse. Your presence in his life is such a blessing yet your power over him is such a curse.

For someone so extremely self-possessed, so serious about control that he is honestly obsessed, it’s quite unsettling how readily he lets you take the reins and make him yours.

He steals back some of that control by owning all your holes with feral fucking force.

You haven’t yet answered his question as to whether this beach is public enough for you. Too breathless from just how epic the sex is but when Raymond cups your jaw your eyes flit open and you read answer me slut in his ferocious gaze of blue. You love the way he has no need for words to tell you what to do.

“Mmm, just enough,” you tell him blissfully as his thick cock plows into you savage and rough. He’s always much more than enough but you still want to act as if you won this game you came to play. “Just fuck me on this beach all day. I always knew you had the balls, Ray.”

He shoves deeper into your soaking wet core with a low grunt. Down to the hilt, making you gasp from being so perfectly filled. “You like the feeling of these big huge fucking balls slapping against your slutty cunt? Just like you want?”

“Fuck yes, sir…” you shout out loud enough for all the world to hear it as you hit the heights of pleasure. Fall to pieces as his shaft rails you to bits, and as his skillful fingers tease against your clit, applying just the perfect pressure.

“Take it all,” he growls as his sack tightens and stiff cock begins to powerfully convulse, racing the rhythm of your pulse, all set to paint your inner walls. His lip curls up against your ear in a demanding fucking snarl. “Take all the cum from these big fucking balls, you dirty little girl.”

Oh yes you fucking will, take everything he has to fill, and you will proudly let this man drill you in front of all the world.

He’s more than just a little proud too. Your shameless and openness and riskiness, when it comes to delicious frisky business, is just one of countless things he loves about you.

Raymond Smith is now a much kinkier bastard than he ever was without you.

By the time he’s thoroughly flooded your tight pussy, you’re both sprawled out on the sand loosely, savoring the sensation of his meat inside your heat all slick and juicy. When he at last slides out of you his cum drips out and paints a pearly path across the sand beneath the space between your legs. You’re both reduced to fucking wrecks.

Then as you cuddle through the sun-kissed afterglow, he glances over at the partly eaten peach dessert you’d brought and asks you something he just has to know. “What was even the point of the tart if your plan was to tempt me with sex?”

You smile and give him the innocent answer he probably expects. “Just to butter you up a bit. Knew you would love it.”

Don’t tell him just yet that this tart filled with peach also serves some less innocent subtext: now that your man has finally fucked your pussy on the beach… you’ll soon ask him if he wants to fuck your peach next.

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Emoji Fic Masterlist

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[wondersofdreaming]

Sex on Fire - 2

Co-written with @radaofrivia​

Characters: AU Captain Syverson - Gynaecologist, dr. Syverson x female reader

Word count: 2.322

Warnings: NSFW! Smut. Smut, smut, smutty smut smut. Masturbation. Bodily liquids. Angst. Tears. Fluff.

Author’s note: This story was co-written with the lovely @radaofrivia​​ - who wrote like 95% of the story!

This story is dedicated to all the women who struggles with pain. It doesn’t matter where that pain is, but know that you are not alone.

Please go enjoy her stories here:

Rada’s Masterlist

I do not own any characters in this short story, except the reader who is a figment of my imagination.

MASTERLIST

Sex on Fire Masterlist

Feedback is appreciated.

Warm woody notes mixed with spices and a touch of...what was that? A crisp, clean scent. Something fruity. A touch of apple notes and his manly, earthly scent. That’s how he smelled. Nuzzling in his neck, your mouth hovered over his skin, sensing the thrum of his pulse pecking your lips with every heartbeat. Your fingers scratched small circles on his bearded cheek idly, mapping the jawline of this man who was just a stranger to you a few hours ago. And yet, this stranger made you feel so safe. Safer than the last man you’d had sex with, an ex who was supposed to have loved and protected you, but instead left you heartbroken and untrusting.

“So, will you tell me about your theses?” you urged him to talk after a moment of silence.

“Are you sure you wanna hear about them?” he huffed an amused smile.

“Of course! The covers look so tempting.”

“Tempting is one way to describe it.”

“What are they about?”

“How about you take a guess.” He looked at you, a mischievous grin forming on his face.

“I don’t think it’s about how you grow a peach tree, right?” You felt his body shake as he chuckled at your amusing comment.

“I haven’t heard that before. Good one.”

“So, what are they about?” you asked impatiently.

“Sex.” He said with such ease and simplicity.

“Sex? You mean how to have sex?”

“Among other things, yes.”

“What other things?”

“The first three are focused on oral sex, female pleasure, and sensuality.”

“And the rest?”

“The fourth one is about sexual intercourse, focussing on the woman,” he explained calmly.

“Are all your books centred on female pleasure?”

“Mmhm.”

“Why?’

“I’m a gynaecologist, remember?” 

“Exactly. Why write about sex when you have so much medical stuff to write about?”

“Because I wanted to break the taboo around female sexual pleasure. While men are very confident and vocal about their pleasure and sensuality, women’s expression of pleasure is still criticised and scandalised. And believe me, when I say, there’s nothing more beautiful than a woman who owns her body and pleasure to the fullest.” His answer knocked the breath out of you, leaving you staring at him like he was a unicorn.

“What? I love women,” he felt like he had to justify his choice by the way you were looking at him. But you were beaming at him.

“Why?”

“Most of my life I have been surrounded by women. I grew up in a household full of women, you know. The receptionist earlier, that was my younger sister, who is here to spy on me by the orders from our mother.” You let out a hearty laughter.

You started to relax. Your shoulders slumping down instead of being tense. Lucas could feel that you were letting your guard down, you were making room for him, for him to make you feel safe and protected. Your smile was much more natural than the forced ones you had sent him earlier. There was a light behind your eyes, like the spark of life was starting to shine brighter again. So beautiful…

His knuckles ran over your jawline, the feathery touch leaving a burning feeling in its wake. You gasped when you felt his fingers pushing a stray lock of hair behind your ear and then let his hand travel down the curve of your neck. A shiver went down your spine, making you move closer to him like you were cold. A sweet, soft smile spread across his chiselled face.

“I know how to warm you up,” he whispered, as his lips neared yours, you could feel his warm breath on your face before you closed the distance to meet him in a blissful encounter. 

His body was tense but yet he was so calm. His breathing was coming out in slow puffs. You could feel his hard erection poking your soft bottom. His hands were roaming all over your body as you continued to kiss him, putting your palms on his bearded cheeks to deepen the kiss. A kiss you never wanted to end. You wanted to be in this happy bubble with him, the man who was the calm to your storm.

If you continued kissing him like you wanted to, you would have to go all the way with him. Were you ready for it?

Lucas could feel your muscles tensing. It was like he could read your mind. A frown showing on his forehead as he broke the kiss, gasping for air.

“Do you want to do this?”

You stared into his eyes. For a moment there, your fear and self-doubt consumed you. What if you couldn’t do it? What if he hurt you? 

Lucas noticed the change in your features, your eyes tearing up. The slight tremor running down your body. You averted your eyes from his gaze, but he nudged your chin with his finger bringing your eyes back to him.

“What is it, sweetpea?”

“If only, I had met you in another life. If only, I wasn’t broken…” your voice faltered.

“You are not broken. This is a way for your body to protect you from pain. It is a defence mechanism. None of it is your fault.”

You watched him with awe as he took the huge burden off your shoulders. You heard his words in your head: you are not broken. The way he talked about what had been pestering your mind for years made it seem smaller, less scary. Your expression changed from one of self-pity to determination. Swiftly, you stood up from his lap, grabbing his wrist and guiding him to the couch. He followed you, looking a little bit lost.

“What…?”

“I want you, now!”

“Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure in my life.” A soft velvety chuckle left his mouth at your resolve. A couple of steps before you reached the couch, you felt him tug you and push you against his body, kissing you hungrily, leaving you breathless and lightheaded. He leaned his forehead against yours.

“I’ve never wanted something more in my life like the way I want you right now.” You gasped at his words, feeling your knees go weak.

“Can I ask for a favour?” your voice almost a whimper.

“Of course.”

“If this is a dream, please don’t wake me up.” Another warm laughter escaped him, looking at you softly, tenderly, his eyes full of admiration.

“You are something else, bug.”

You stood there staring at him, wondering how this man could be real. The way he looked at you, touched you, made you feel desired. It was insanely powerful, intoxicating and potentially addictive. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him into a passionate kiss. His hands came to your nape pulling you closer to him, deepening the kiss. You started moving backwards like you were slow dancing and lowered your bodies sitting on the couch behind you, without breaking contact.

“How do you want me?” you asked him tentatively, needing his guidance to position yourself.

“I want you open, without fear,” he murmured on your lips. Once again, he stole the breath out of you. He pushed you back gently to lie down on the couch.

“Show me how you please yourself,” his voice was kind and full of understanding. You felt a little shy pleasuring yourself with an audience, but you had decided to leave your fears behind and nothing could stop you, not even yourself.

He noticed the hesitation in your eyes and said:

“It’s for science,” making you laugh out loud, lifting the pressure off of the moment. He could feel the air around you decompress as he watched you bring your hand over your mound, massaging the soft area over your pubic bone and then run your fingers along your inner lips. You slid your fingers over the sides of your clit, stroking up and down, finding a rhythm that made you feel good. His eyes were transfixed on the motion of your hand. He bit his lip trying to keep himself from throwing himself on you. His hands were itching to touch you, and you saw his fists clench trying to reclaim his self-control. 

You took in the image of the mess you left him in from your previous love-making. His once crisp, smart, white shirt, now crinkled and ripped open, letting his taut hairy chest show, his jeans open, and his hair tousled and unruly by your wild hands.

“Take off your clothes. I need to see all of you,” you said in a needy way. He glanced at you with wide hungry eyes, his breath hitching at your command. He slid his palm under your knee, lifting your leg to rest on his shoulder, taking his time to kiss and nibble on the tender flesh of your inner thigh, making you gasp. Then, he brought it over his head, maintaining eye contact with you, so he could stand and execute your order. His massive frame towered over you, as he removed his shirt, tossing it behind him haphazardly and then moved to his jeans, pushing them down along with his boxers, letting them fall around his feet. He toed out of his shoes and trousers, allowing you to admire his sculpted body in all its naked glory.

He kneeled back on the couch, draping your body with his, to catch your mouth in a bruising kiss. You loved the sensation of his warmth and weight on you. With your hand still between your legs, you ran your fingers over your slit, smearing your wetness on your clit, intensifying the pressure on your nub, picking up the pace to find your release. But you didn’t want to come alone.

“Touch yourself,” you breathed on his lips, stealing a gasp from him. “Show me how turned on you are for me.” Propping himself on one strong arm, he ran his hand over his throbbing hard-on, pumping his shaft languidly, his eyes piercing into your soul.

“Damn love, you’re killing me,” he moaned on your temple, breathing you in, “without even laying a hand on me.” His hot breath on your face and his soft baritone in your ear unleashed the fire that built up in you, bringing you to your climax, turning you into a hot, whimpering mess. Your soft moans and cries were his undoing, as he followed you to his release, spilling his cum on your stomach.

He laid spent on top of you, trying to catch his breath, his arms around your shoulders holding you tight onto him. You returned his warm embrace, snaking your arms around his lean waist, cherishing the way your body fit together like two puzzle pieces. Coming down from your high, your breaths calmed down and synchronized, taking in each other’s air.

He nuzzled on your shoulder, his beard tickling your collarbone, feeling so soft and rough against your skin. He lifted his head, facing you, and pecked gently at the corner of your mouth. He looked between your bodies at the sticky mess he had made.

“Let me clean you up,” he said, his voice weary and gruff, pushing himself off of you and making way to find some wet wipes. Coming back to you, he found you running your fingers on your stomach absentmindedly, spreading his semen on your pads and staring at them with a smirk on your face. His voice brought you back from your daze.

“Why do you have to be so hot?” You looked up at him seeing a huge grin on his face.

“It comes naturally to me,” you laughed, making space for him to sit next to you. He took your hand in his and wiped off your fingers one by one carefully, and then moved to your stomach. You could swear that the way he looked after you were the hottest thing you had ever witnessed and nobody could convince you that this wasn’t part of his foreplay.

“There, all clean and fresh.”

“Where have you been all my life?” you blurted out without even thinking. Lucas chuckled.

“With my nose buried in books. You might not have noticed me.”

“Seriously, do you really want me to believe that a man like you can go unnoticed?” He opened his mouth to say something but stopped. He stared at you for a moment with a lopsided grin on his lips.

“I like your boldness.”

“My boldness and I come as a package deal.” Although you smiled, the tone of your voice gave off a hint of sadness in your comment.

“Hey, what is it?” he nudged your chin towards him so you could gaze into his eyes.

“It’s just that…” you sighed and closed your eyes, trying to find the courage to tell him what was in your heart. “Men don’t usually don’t like it when women voice their opinions. It’s one of my many flaws and the reason why no one wants to be with me, well one of the reasons.”

Lucas pulled you up to sit in his lap, hugging all the anxiety and negativity out of you.

“Babe, most men are assholes,” his voice sounded so sad. He was sad for you and wished he could fight the demons you were carrying, but that was your fight only and he could only stand by your side and be supportive.

“You’re the only one who sees me, Luc. The real me.”

“Well, I had the privilege to grow up with three sisters, who were all mouthy, bold, strong women and the type kinda grew on me.”

“It’s overwhelming how fast you gained my trust. Is that even normal?”

“Who are we to define what’s normal or not?”

“Indeed,” you said contemplatively.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yes, sure.”

“I know we started off quite untraditionally, but… would you go on a date with me?”

[thatslikely]

Fred Weasley’s Day Off (Part 1) - F.W.

Fred Weasley’s Day Off- Fred Weasley x Gender Neutral!Reader [Ferris Bueller’s Day Off AU]

Warnings: only occasional mild language

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: this is Part 1 of my new 5 part series, Fred Weasley’s Day Off! You can find the series masterlist here. This part is going pretty similar to the movie, but as the story unfolds, I promise it isn’t a carbon copy of John Hughe’s masterpiece. Hope you guys enjoy :)

Just a reminder: Y/N is Your Name, Y/L/N is Your Last Name, and thoughts are in italics.

Taglist: @amourtentiaa @anchoeritic @probably-peeves @horrorxweasley @weasleywh0r3s​

if you want to be added to be added to my general (or this series!)’s taglist, send me a dm or ask!

If you haven’t seen Ferris Bueller’s Day off or just need a refresher, HERE all all the scenes included in this part in chronilogical order! I HIGHLY reccomend giving these a watch, for they make the situations a lot easier to understand (and they’re hilarious).

----

It’s a beautiful day today, temperatures in the upper 70’s. You can expect plenty of sun and not a cloud in sight. Right now, it’s 75 at lakefront, 74 at Midway, 73 at the O’hare.

“Arthur!” Molly Weasley screeched, beckoning her husband to Fred and George’s messy bedroom. The walls were plastered with large posters of their favorite bands and sports teams (mainly Fred’s), and an expensive computer sat on the desk in the corner. The door to the room was ajar, a frantic mother feeling a haggard Fred Weasley’s forehead.

“What's the matter?” Arthur asked, briefcase in hand.

“It’s Fred, for Merlin’s sake look at him!”

Fred laid slumped under the hand-knitted quilt like a corpse, his hair tousled and his chin unshaved. She continued, “he doesn’t have a fever, but his stomach hurts and he’s seeing spots!” Fred peeled his pained, umber eyes open, his weak gaze pointed to his suit-clad father.

A sympathetic Arthur reached for Fred’s cold and clammy hands, feeling them with a shudder. He’s got a bad cold, he thought, poor boy needs to stay home and rest.

“I’m fine, I’ll get up. I have a test today.” Fred leaned up slightly, his stuffy nose attempting to breathe. His baggy eyes drifted around the room, glazing the empty bed parallel to his’. “No!” Molly and Arthur Weasley stated firmly in unison, pressing his aching chest into the soft bed.

“I have to take it. I-I wanna go to a good college, so I can have a fruitful life.” Fred kept attempting to get out of bed, only for Molly’s gentle hands to guide him back down.

“Oh fine, what’s this? What’s his problem?” Ron leaned against the untidy bedroom’s door frame, his arms crossed, his face donning an unamused expression tinged with jealousy. He was looking daggers into Fred, who reciprocated nothing but a wink.

“He doesn’t feel well,” Molly stated, not pleased in the slightest with Ron’s distasteful demeanor.

“Yeah, right,” Ron rebutted with a scowl. The tips of Ron’s ears seared with resentment for his brother and anger at his naive and biased parents.

“Ronnie? Is that you?” Fred asked, his blurry vision making the outline of his brother near indistinguishable from the rest of his room. “Ronnie? I can’t see that far.” Fred leaned up in an attempt to see his brother, before falling backward with a dramatic moan.

“Dry that one out, you could fertilize the garden,” the younger ginger spat, tapping his toe furiously.

“Ronald, you get to school!” Molly demanded, vehemently gesturing for him to leave.

“You’re letting him stay home? If I was bleeding out my eyes you’d still make me go to school! This is so unfair.” Jealousy oozed from Ron’s clenched jaw like venom.

“Ron, please don’t be upset with me. You have your health, be thankful,” Fred said coolly. His eyes remained glinted with mischief, causing a furious Ron to storm off in a huff.

The concerned mother and father turned back to a wheezing Fred. Molly tucked him in tighter, cooing, “Now listen, I’ll be showing that new family some houses today, so I’ll be in the area. The office will know just where to find me if you need anything, okay?” A wave of gratefulness swept over Fred’s face.

“It’s nice to know I have such loving, caring parents. You’re both very special people.” Molly caressed Fred’s ashen cheek before planting a compassionate kiss on his warm forehead.

“G’bye champ,” Arthur said to his son before carefully shutting his door and walking to the garage.

They bought it.

Incredible. One of the worst performances of my career, and they never doubted it for a second. Fred peeled back the curtains blocking the beautiful view from his large windows with a smirk. He looked out the panes, admiring the gorgeous weather. How could I be expected to go to school on a day like this?

This is my ninth sick day this semester; it’s getting pretty tough coming up with new illnesses. If I go for ten, I’ll have to barf up a lung, so I’d better make this one count. Fred carefully adjusted his extortionate stereo, his fail-proof plan slowly piecing together.

Fred then stepped over to his desk, reaching for an old, hefty soccer trophy of his and some rope. The key to faking out the parents is the clammy hands. He started knotting the rope around the shiny golden award methodically. A lot of people’ll tell you to go for the old ‘phony fever’, but if you’ve got a nervous mother, you could wind up in the doctor's office. That’s worse than school.

“It’s a little childish and stupid, but then, so is high school.”

He scrupulously placed the trophy contraption behind his door with a satisfied nod, proceeding to the bathroom dressed in his grey and maroon striped bathrobe. Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.

Fred undressed and stepped into the steamy shower, quickly shampoo-ing his ginger mop into a spiky mohawk. He gave some thought about his plans for the leisurely day before removing the showerhead, gripping it like a microphone, serenading an imaginary audience, “I recall Central Park in fall. How you tore your dress, what a mess, I must confess…”

----

“Spinnet?” A greasy Mr. Snape drawled, spectacled eyes darting around the dingy classroom, illuminated with corporate fluorescent lights. “Spinnet?”

“Here!”

“Smith?” Silence. “Smith?”

“Present.”

“Weasley?” Snape asked, scanning the room for any signs of the irresponsible redhead.

“Weasley?” he repeated, uninterested and monotone. “Weasley?”

“Um, he’s sick,” a perky Cho Chang cut through the tense silence with a smile, “my best friend’s sister’s boyfriend’s brother’s girlfriend heard from this guy, who knows this kid who saw Fred pass out at Florean’s last night! I guess it’s pretty serious.”

“Thank you, Cho,” Snape said impassively.

“No problem, whatsoever!”

----

A robotic ring emitted from the phone next to Lee Jordan’s bed, disturbing the perturbed ambiance of the inert bedroom. The hypochondriac occupying the sheets clicked the silver ‘answer’ button with a shallow sigh.

“Hello?” George Weasley asked, his voice deep and groggy.

“Georgie, babe, what’s happening?” Fred’s exuberant voice questioned from the other end of the line, starkly contrasting his twin’s nonbelligerent energy.

“Very little,” he responded in a trance-like state, eyes spacing out at the blank ceiling, his mind nearly detached from his aching body.

“How do you feel?”

“Shredded.” Half-empty pill bottles and antihypertensive drugs lined the bleak nightstand to his left.

“Get dressed and come on back home. I’m taking the day off,” Fred imposed. He sat in a lounge chair, next to the turquoise pool, soaking in the bright morning sun, which starkly contrasted George’s dark atmosphere. He held a Brick to his ear, sipping an iced Hawaiian drink from a swirly straw. The only thing covering his body was a pair of floral swim trunks; plastic sunglasses rested in the ginger nest atop his head.

“I can’t stupid, I’m sick. I think I got food poisoning from Lee’s awful cooking.”

“It’s all in your head, George, come back home,” Fred said more firmly, taking another sip of the fruity drink in the souvenir cup.  

“I feel like complete shit, Fred. I can’t go anywhere.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Now come on over here so I can have a fun day off!” Fred demanded, hanging up the phone promptly. “Sheesh.”

George remained stiffly on the sheets, still as a statue, muttering, “I’m dying.” The phone chimed again with another call. Click.

“You’re not dying, you just can’t think of anything good to do!” Fred’s voice echoed through the dimly-lit room before the tone of an ended call took its place.

“Pardon my French,” said Fred to no one in particular, “but George is so tight, that if you stuck a lump of coal up his ass, in two weeks, you’d have a diamond.”

Fred quickly abandoned the pool deck, instead continuing random antics around the vacant house, whether it was (horribly) playing his centuries-old clarinet, or prank calling gullible freshmen claiming he had an impending kidney transplant. This was the life.

“I’m so disappointed in George. Twenty bucks says he’s sitting in his car debating whether or not he should go out.”

Fred had hit the nail on the head. George sat in his four-wheeled hunk of junk for minutes, muttering to himself, “He’ll keep calling me. He’ll keep calling me until I go home. He’ll make me feel guilty. This is ridiculous! Okay, I’ll go, I’ll go, I’ll go, I’ll go.” He turned the key of the run-down car, only for the engine to cough and heave. “Goddamn it!”

----

“Molly Weasley,” Molly introduced herself to the caller from her desk at the local real estate office. She held the landline phone in one hand, the other scratching numerals and figures onto some spreadsheets.

“This is Dolores J. Umbridge, Dean of Students. Are you aware that Fred is not at school today, Miss Weasley?” she asked punctually, her voice laced with irritation.

“Yes, I am. Poor Fred is home sick.”

“Are you also aware that Fred does not have what we consider an exemplary attendance record? He has missed an unacceptable number of school days.” Umbridge looked icy and collected on the outside, but deep down she was fuming with anger. “I have no reservation whatsoever about holding him back another year.”

“This is all news to me,” Molly replied, taken aback by Umbridge’s blunt threats.

“It usually is.” Dolores turned her attention to the hunky computer opposite her, ready with Fred’s academic profile, scanning the pixels signifying his number of absent days. When she finally opened her jaw to announce the number to Mrs. Weasley with a devious grin, she was horrified to see the number of days slowly ticking down to two.

“I asked for a car, I got a computer,” Fred said with an unamused but smug smirk as he typed lines of code into his computer back at the Weasley household, “how’s that for being born under a bad sign?”

“I can appreciate how this time of year, children are prone to taking the day off. However, in Fred’s case, I can assure you, he’s a very sick boy.” And with that, Dolores hung up on a sympathetic Molly, her tight brunette curls gradually frizzing from aggravation.

“I don’t trust this… Fred Weasley,” Umbridge confided to her secretary, Augustus Filch. “What’s so dangerous about a character like Fred is that he gives good students bad ideas. The last thing I need is fifteen-hundred Fred Weasley disciples running around these halls. He jeopardizes my ability to effectively govern this student body.”

“Well, he makes you look like a bitch is what he does, Dolores,” Filch said with a smirk.

“You’re wrong,” Dolores asserted, fiery gaze piercing through Filch’s soul.

“Well, he is very popular. The sportos and motorheads, geeks, wastoids, dweebies, dickheads, they all adore him. They think he’s some righteous dude,” Filch said astutely.

“That is why I’ve got to catch him this time. Show these kids that you can’t just skip school nine times a semester like he has and get away with it!”

----

Mr. Binns, a prehistoric-looking man with novel-thick glasses, stood at the head of the classroom, giving his usual dull lecture. While he etched utter nonsense onto the chalkboard, you couldn’t help but release a bone-cracking yawn.

After years of sitting in your uncomfortable plastic chair, drowning out Mr. Binn’s boring babble, your saving grace arrived in the form of a grave Nurse Pomfrey.

You quickly slipped on your pale, leather jacket and stuffed your blank notebook into your backpack at the sight of the frail woman donning white scrubs like a dove, eager to escape class. Nurse Pomfrey had on a solemn face as she quickly whispered something into Mr. Binns’ ear before announcing to the uninterested class, “Y/N, Y/L/N, may I have a word with you?” You painted a look of surprise on your face before stepping into the hallway with the disturbed grey-haired woman.

“My dear, I’m afraid I’m the bearer of bad tidings,” she said sorrowfully once out of the earshot of the small lecture hall, “your father called. Your grandmother has just passed.”

Your eyes welled with artificial tears, face drenched with heartbreak.

----

The landline echoed through Umbridge’s dreary, pale pink office.

“Dolores Umbridge,” she said pseudo-cheerfully into the handset held by her thulian claws.

“This is Phil Y/L/N,” a middle-aged man said, his voice slathered with a thick Chicago accent.

“How are you today, sir?” Dolores asked suspiciously.

“Well, today we’ve had a bit of bad luck. It’s been a tough morning,” he croaked, “now if you wouldn’t mind excusing Y/N, we have a lot of family business to attend to.”

“I’d be happy to, just produce a corpse and I’ll release Y/N. I want to see this ‘dead grandmother’ firsthand.” She peeled the phone away from her face, smiling valiantly at a mortified Filch, saying slyly, “It’s okay, it’s Fred Weasley. I’m setting a trap for him.”

“Dolores, I’m sorry, did you say you wanted to see a body?” an ill-tempered Mr. Y/L/N questioned in disbelief through the speaker.

“Yes. Just roll her old bones up here and I’ll gladly retrieve Y/N for you. That’s school policy.” Dolores looked so pleased with herself, a devilish smirk resting on her lips. The telephone in Filch’s office chimed, and he quickly dashed to answer it.

“Hello, Dolores Umbridge, Dean of Students’ office,” his gravelly voice answered.

“Hi. This is Fred Weasley. Can I speak to Miss Umbridge, please?” Filch’s mouth went desert-dry in horror, his aged, grey eyes bulging out of his skull. He dashed to a taunting Umbridge, jumping and waving for her to shut up.

“I’ll tell you what, if you don’t like my policies, you can come down here and kiss my-”

“Fred Weasley’s on line two, Dolores!” Umbridge’s eyes went as wide as saucers; her whole face, even her bright fuchsia lipstick, turned as white as a sheet.

She was quick to switch to line two, listening to Fred Weasley’s voice which filled the otherwise silent room.

“Miss Umbridge, I’m not feeling too well today,” Fred started, a smug and valiant grin on his face. He adjusted his clean and gelled hair, which perfectly complemented the perfectly-tailored suit he donned. “Would it be possible for Ron to bring home any assignments from my classes? Have a nice day.”

The only sound left in the office was the droning disconnect tone.

The ‘line one’ buttoned flashed bright red like a siren. With a shaky, wrinkled pointer finger painted with a coat of magenta nail polish, she hesitantly pressed the button, sucking in a breath.

“Mr. Y/L/N, I-I think I owe you an apology,” she said, mortified.

“I should say you do!” the deep voice on the other line boomed. Umbridge peeled open her lips for an apology, only to be cut off with, “Well I think you should be sorry for Merlin’s sake! A family member dies, and you insult me! What the hell’s the matter with you?”

“W-well I really don’t know. I didn’t think I was talking to you, I thought you were someone else,” Umbridge barely managed to spit out. “You know I would never deliberately insult you like that!”

“Find out where she is!” Umbridge hissed to an idle but nervous Filch, her palm covering the phone’s mouthpiece. He promptly scrambled around the surrounding metal filing cabinets, reaching for various binders and manilla folders.

“This isn’t over yet, do you read me?” The infuriated voice’s threat yelled into the frantic principal’s ear.

“Loud and clear, Mr. Y/L/N!” she responded while scouring the various sets of drawers for Y/N’s schedule.

“Call me sir, goddammit!”

“Yes sir!”

----

“That’s better. Mind your P’s and Q’s buster, and remember who you’re dealing with!” an exasperated George Weasley shouted into the kitchen’s phone, his voice at least an octave lower than usual. His look of fury was soon replaced with a smile from ear to ear, quite proud of the convincing-ness of his impression.  

A dashing, suit-clad Fred Weasley soon strutted into the lemon-yellow kitchen, charismatically introducing himself, “Weasley, Fred Weasley.”

George held his palm over the mouthpiece of the phone, asking, “I’m scared. What if she recognizes my voice?”

“Impossible. You’re doing great.”  

The self-conscious redhead brought the phone back to his ear, shouting “Umbridge!” furiously. Groaning echoed from the other end of the line. “Umbridge, calm down!”  

“I don’t have all day to bark at you, so I’ll make this short, and sweet. I want my child outside of the school in ten minutes by themself!”

Fred gave George a harsh tap on his shoulder, hissing, “That’s too suspicious! She’ll think something’s up!”

“You do it then!” the other twin whispered back.

“Talk.”

“You!”

“Talk.”

“Fine!” he fizzled. “Umbridge! Pay Attention!” The magenta-suited principal was scuttering around her office, frantically searching for your schedule and something to repair the escalating situation.

“Umbridge! Changed my mind. I want you out there with them, I’d like to have a few words with you!” Fred swiftly slapped the phone from George’s clutches, causing it to fall on the tile carelessly. The identical gingers both scrambled for the phone, ending up in George’s grasp once again.

He yelled to the mouthpiece rapidly, “On second thought, we don’t have time to talk right now! We’ll get together soon and have lunch!”

Fred kicked George’s rear hard, causing a small yelp to escape George’s lips. “What the hell’s wrong with you?” he spat at Fred, who quickly slammed the phone back to the base.

“Where’s your brain?” he harshly asked his irritated brother.

“Why’d you kick me?” George retorted, hurt.

“Where’s your brain?”

“Why’d you kick me?”

“Where’s your brain?”

“I asked you first!”

“How are we gonna pick up Y/N if Umbitch is out there with them?” Fred rhetorically asked, seething.

“I- I said for them to be alone and you freaked,” George stated, reverting back to his timid tendencies.

“Now, I didn’t… I didn’t hit you. I lightly slapped you.”

“You hit me.” Tension sliceable with a butterknife filled the kitchen.

“Look, don’t ask me to participate in your stupid antics if you don’t like the way I do it. You make me get out of bed. You make me come over here. You made me make a phony phone call to Dolores Umbridge? That woman could expel me, expel us, and then, you deliberately hurt my feelings!”

“No… I didn’t deliberately hurt your feelings,” Fred said, his words tinged with guilt. “What’re you doing?” George grabbed his red hockey jersey and keys that previously laid on the island.

“I’m going back to Lee’s, Fred. I need some rest. Have a nice life.”

“No, no, c’mon. Don’t do that, George,” Fred pleaded ruefully, “George, come back. I didn’t mean to lose my temper. I’m sorry.”

“You serious?”

Fred gave a slow and sincere nod. George swiveled back around, setting his belongings back on the counter, his face lightened slightly.

“Now, to fix the situation, we’re gonna have to do something you’re not going to like.”

----

Fred and George peeled the sliding glass doors of the luxurious garage apart, revealing the interior, which was mainly lined with thousands of dollars worth of vintage car memorabilia, save for the treasured vehicle in the center.

“The 1961 Ford Anglia 105E Deluxe,” George said, his eyes pointed down at the prized pompadour blue car resting idly in front of the duo. Fred's eyes were also fixed on the vehicle, though his’ were illuminated with awe and mischief.

“Dad spent 3 years restoring this car,” he continued, hands behind his back, not daring to leave fingerprints on its shiny surface, “it is his love, it is his passion…”

“It is his fault he didn’t lock the garage,” Fred smirked, sauntering around the exterior of the automobile, slobbering all over the surface like a dog with fresh meat.

“Fred, what are you talking about?” George asked nervously, already knowing what Fred was plotting, “Dad loves this car even more than he loves you!”

“Fred, no.” Fred swiped his fingers over the perfect coat of paint, occasionally posing with the car as if he was a model on the front cover of a magazine.

“Que Bella!” he said with a chef’s kiss, still drooling over the car’s magnificence.

“Remember how insane he went when I snapped my retainer? And that was a tiny piece of plastic!” Fred paid an anxious George no mind, instead continuing his admiration for Arthur’s most valuable possession.

“George, I’m sorry, but we can’t pick up Y/N in that piece of scrap. He’d never believe Mr. Y/L/N would drive something like that!”

“It’s not a piece of scrap.”

Fred opened the driver’s side door, slowly sitting down in the comfortable cushioned seat, his umber eyes never breaking contact with George’s identical ones.

“He knows the mileage, Fred.”

“Look, this is real simple. Whatever miles we put on, we’ll take off.” Fred said, barely giving George the time of day.

“How?”

“We’ll drive home backwards.”

“No,” George said firmly, almost like a mother. Fred turned the key of the Anglia, its restored engine roaring ten times better than George’s hunk of junk’s.

“How about we rent a nice Cadillac, my treat!” He yelled as Fred slowly drove away, the revving of the vintage engine drowning out his voice. George stood frozen in disbelief, before Fred slowly backed up, beckoning George to join him.

With a heavy heart, George warily climbed into the back seat of the vehicle. And with that, Fred floored the gas, speeding off towards the Shermer High.

----

“I had a grandmother once,” Umbridge awkwardly stated, in an attempt to soothe your heart overcome with (fake) grief. “Two, actually.”

The suburbs outside of the Windy City lived up to their name today; Umbridge’s frizzy brown curls swayed in the strong breeze. The temperature today was the best it had been since last Autumn; it was a given that Fred would skip.

You patiently waited on the concrete steps outside the school, Umbridge continuing her “comforting” words, attempting to stitch the wounds caused by your grandmother’s staged death. You weren’t focused on the thulian tyrant, however, instead, your eyes waited on the road for the sight of a ruby-red-haired boy.

“Between grief and nothing, I’d take grief,” Umbridge said flatly.

“Great,” you replied softly, eager to shut the toadish old lady up. She opened her magenta-tinted lips to add something else, but she decided against it, promptly shutting her mouth without a sound escaping.

The stentorian roaring of the engine residing in cerulean Ford Anglia filled the silent air and idle parking lot, lightening your spirits instantly. While you didn’t doubt that Fred would’ve shown up eventually, his timing was impeccable. It didn’t hurt that he showed up in a killer ride, either.

A tall, lanky man drenched in a long beige trench coat, horn-rimmed sunglasses, and a businessman-looking fedora, which masked his fiery orange hair, emerged from the car, leaning against its body.

“Oh Y/N honey, hurry along now,” the stranger in disguise bellowed, his voice slightly higher pitched than ‘Mr. Y/L/N’s’ from the phone, a thickly-slathered Chicago accent present nonetheless.

“I guess that’s my dad.”

You grabbed the annoying principal’s wrinkly, cold hand, reciting, “Miss Umbridge, Dolores. You’re a beautiful woman, I wanna thank you for your warmth and compassion.”

A furious Ron watched from the scene play out from the large front windows of the school, immediately recognizing Fred and his infuriating antics with a scowl. Why should he get to skip while the rest of us have to stay? I’ve gotta catch him.

Umbridge looked near disturbed at your counterfeit words on thankfulness, before you eagerly stepped down to the car, giving ‘Mister Y/L/N’ a quick hug.

“Do you have a kiss for Daddy?” Fred jokingly asked with a smirk.

“Are you kidding?” you replied, leaning into his soft lips for a passionate kiss, which maybe would have escalated a little further if he didn’t drag you in the passenger seat of the Anglia.

“So that's how it is in their family,” Umbridge uttered as she watched the nearly-French kiss perched from her spot at the top of the stairway. She swiftly pivoted around walking to the front entrance to the school, when Fred floored the Ford again, its loud engine roaring off into the distance.

“Hi Georgie, you comfortable?” you asked, eyes towards the crampted back seat.

Once the three of you were out of Umbridge’s eyeline, a compact George sprung up from the lonely backseat, saying, “Hi, Y/N. No.”

“So, what're we gonna do?” you asked the dashingly handsome driver next to you with a smile.

“The question isn’t: What are we going to do? The question is: What aren’t we going to do?”

“Don’t say we’re not going to take the car home. Please don’t say that we’re not going to take the car home,” George mumbled, hopeful that Fred would comply, though he already knew that Fred would be doing the exact opposite.

If you had access to a car like this, Fred mentally narrated, gesturing to the amenities-rich Anglia, would you take it back right away? Me neither.

And with that, Fred recklessly rounded the bendy road, speeding off towards downtown Chicago.

[katrina765]

++++

summary: you and reggie have always been good friends. being the manager for sunset curve had its perks, one of which included growing close to all the boys. one night reggie lets his feelings for you slip. how will you react?

song: testify

pairings: reggie x reader[platonic] maybe;)

words: 3.3k

warnings: mentions of alcohol, drinking, swearing, angst, pining, fluff towards the end

a/n: i’m sorry this took so long. i’ve been super busy with school and my motivation hasn’t been the best, but we made it! finally finished testify, so enjoy:) [for plot purposes we’re saying y/n lives in bobby’s house and owns the studio-garage]

++++

he’s lying awake trying to contemplate what this all means. he’s known how he’s felt for so long and yet he can never find the right words to say to you. you always manage to steal his breath away by barely doing anything. you walk into a room, his face lights up and suddenly his palms are sweaty. he’s amazed with the way you speak. it’s as if silk were a sound and it were projecting from your lips.

your lips.

what he’d do just to get a taste, a feel. the poor boy has dreamt of the way they’d fit perfectly against his. he’d imagine the way you’d move in sync with him. it all felt so real and yet he knew if he never built up the courage to talk to you, he wouldn’t get the chance to make those dreams realities.

++++

“luke!” you called, crossing the cramped studio towards the lead singer. he was shouting over the music to a girl who practically clung to his arm. you watched as she batted her eyelashes and took another sip from her red solo cup. “luke!”

you reached the pair, earning a pointed glare from the petite girl. luke hesitantly looked at you, guilt already painting his features.

“can i help you, sweetheart?” she took a step forward, clearly bothered that you interrupted her conversation.

“find someone else to bother, babe.” you roughly grabbed luke’s hand, leading him towards a less crowded area. he gave the girl an apologetic wave before she stormed off towards the drinks table.

“she was really pretty, y/n.” luke groaned, tossing his cup into a nearby bin.

“luke, you said this was only going to be a few people! do you know how big of a mess i’m going to have to clean up? my parents are going to be up my ass when they come home!”

“calm down, y/l/n. have a little fun, get a little drunk! the boys and i will help clean up. scouts honor!”

“you were never a scout- you know what? fine! this is yours to deal with. i may be your official manager, but i’m not your babysitter! have fun with this one, patterson.” and with that you made your way over to a cooler, pulling out a bottle of some fruity drink.

reggie spotted you from a few feet away, his beer abandoned in a corner of the studio. it wasn’t his fault you stole the show wherever you went- even if he was the only one in the audience. his eyes were glued to you and that was how it was. you were completely oblivious to his infatuation with you. that’s how it’s been for years.

the boy watched as you made your way over to alex. he ogled at the way your lips met the rim of the glass bottle, delicately sipping at the liquid.

as you approached the boy in the pink hoodie, his eyes traveled far behind you. they met reggie’s, catching his stare. alex smirked knowingly and nodded to his band mate. reggie hesitated slightly before walking away to grab another beer.

a little liquid luck never hurt anybody. right?

“hey, alex.” you greeted, tilting the bottle back once more. “i thought you weren’t a ‘party person’.”

“i’m not.” he scratched the back of his neck, glancing around the room again.

the studio wasn’t terribly big. normally there was room for your piano, the band’s gear, and a couple couches. sure there was an empty area and a loft, but you never intended to have more than ten people in it at once.

luke’s “small gathering” had turned into a large house party and your poor studio had people so close, they were bumping shoulders. cups were tipped on the floor, bottles strewn about, your mother’s plants pushed to one corner, speakers in the middle of the room blaring some jumbled rock song.

a mess.

“i really only came for luke. he said it was gonna be fun, but i wasn’t expecting so many people.” alex leaned down so you would be able to hear him better.

“yeah.” you rolled your eyes, recalling the conversation you just had with the guitarist. “didn’t really give any of us a heads up. do you wanna-”

a loud crash from across the studio cut you off. in the direction of it, a mixture of cheers and laughs erupted.

with a groan of frustration, you politely excused yourself from the drummer. he flashed you a sympathetic smile as you downed the rest of your drink and walked off.

“hey, man!” reggie took your place next to alex, keeping his eyes on you as he spoke to his bandmate.

alex waved a hand in front of reggie’s face, snapping his fingers a couple times. he chuckled once the bassist finally looked up at him with reddening cheeks.

“if you didn’t want to talk to me, you could have just said so.” alex laughed.

“no- no, i’m sorry.” reggie cleared his throat, taking another sip from his bottle, before continuing. “just a little...”

“distracted?” the boy in the flannel nodded sheepishly. “dude, you have to tell her.”

“you know i can’t do that.”

“why not? everyone sees the way you look at her! it’s better to tell her than to keep it to yourself for another three years.”

reggie took a deep breath. his eyes scanned the crowd in search of you. he watched as you shooed people away from a broken vase- one of your mother’s. you delicately picked up shards of glass, careful not to cut yourself.

“i just don’t want to ruin things with her.” the boy finally exhaled.

“well then at least go help her clean up.” alex’s eyes glimmered with a hint of mischief as he shoved his bandmate in your direction.

reggie stumbled towards you, instinctively smoothing out his jacket. your eyes lit up when the boy reached you. he offered his help and even after you insisted this was your mess to clean up, he stayed and helped you sweep. it was sweet; the gesture. to you it was just a friend helping another friend, but to him, every lingering touch sent a million questions to his mind; was that on purpose? why is she looking at me like that? does she feel the same?

to any onlookers, they’d see the way his cheeks flushed each time your hands accidentally brushed or when you moved to sweep a fallen strand of hair out of your face. reggie was infatuated by you and everyone saw it except you.

“thanks again, reg.” a smile stretched across your face as you tossed the last shards of glass into the bin. reggie had just walked back outside to you with two drinks in his hands; the same fruity drink you had earlier and another beer. “how’d you know these are my favorite?”

“had a hunch.” his cheeks were tinged that familiar pink color, grateful the darkness was there to hide it from your view.

“we should probably get back in there before something else breaks, huh?” you tipped the bottle back, taking another long sip from the sweet drink. as much as you hated the feeling of being drunk and what was to come after, you needed all the liquid courage this bottle had to offer.

reggie tilted his own bottle back, mind racing with a thousand thoughts, but only one that really stood out. for him, it was now or never. the atmosphere was right, there were no distractions- if he didn’t do it now, he’d be kicking himself forever.

i’m losing control now that the alcohol hits my blood flow.

“y/n?” you turned around, walking back towards the bassist.

“everything alright, reggie?” you placed a hand on his shoulder. concern evident in your eyes as you looked up at the flustered boy.

didn’t want to address this, but i really thought that you should know.

“can i tell you something?”

the conversation was short. nothing much said, at least not on your part. it was him who spilled his entire being into one breath. his words hit you quickly, the loud music almost drowning them out entirely. reggie watched as your face fell. you attempted to mask your discomfort with a shy smile; one he knew all too well. it was the same look you’d given so many others before. it was all out there now. his feelings for you, the ones he’d been hiding since he first met the bright, bubbly girl. he’d fallen instantly. now he stood, drink in hand, watching as you walked away. you didn’t feel the same and he knew you never would. his mind ran through everything he could have said to persuade you. “life gets so black and white when i look in your eyes. girl, you just simplify, you make wrong seem so right, turn dark into light.” he’d lost his chance and there was nothing he could do to get it back. if only he’d been better, more charming, would you have felt the same?

++++

he drank that night. reggie tipped bottles back like there was no tomorrow. he drank and drank and drank for the next two weeks.

he knew it was a bad idea- telling you- and yet he did it anyway. alex had suggested it, but it wasn’t his fault. he’d been wanting to do it since before he could remember. it just hurt that you finally knew...and didn’t feel the same.

reggie started skipping band practice. he knew you’d be there, going over gigs you were looking for or just to provide feedback. he couldn’t look you in the eyes without being swarmed with those feelings again. nothing would change for him and he knew that. seeing you there would only make things worse.

the doubt was what ate at him. why wasn’t he good enough? was it something he said? did? there was nothing wrong with you- hell, you were perfect to him- so it had to be something with him, right?

i’ve made a mistake, but this is a whole new kind of rejection.

he could have spoken differently? if he controlled the nerves in his voice he would’ve seemed more put together. what if he said something smoother?

come over here slowly, come get to know my body. got me breaking a sweat ‘cause this is a whole new kind of neglection.

he wouldn’t call it neglect. if anything he was the one avoiding you. it was only after he came back to band practice a month later when he saw it.

you were the only one not to greet him when he walked into the studio last wednesday. reggie didn’t blame you. it was only fair you were a little uncomfortable around him now that you knew it all. so he didn’t mind when you ignored him today.

band practice had started the same as any other day. luke had written a new song and was eager to show you all. alex picked up his parts quickly, reggie was a little distracted, but tried his best to follow along, and you sat on the couch across the room flipping through newspapers and magazines in search of a place that needed an opening band.

“what do you think, y/n?” luke asked, strumming his final chord before placing his guitar back in it’s stand. “stage-worthy?”

“a little choppy on the bass, but otherwise not bad.” you looked up at the boys.

luke, bobby, and alex laughed at your quip, but reggie’s face resembled something of a poorly hidden scowl. in his mind your remark was nothing short of jab back at him. is it bad that he was the slightest bit relieved you even addressed him?

it felt like it had been years since he saw your smile let alone pointed in his direction.

“you heard the girl! pick it up, peters!”

“shut it, luke.” reggie swung his bass back around, ready to play. he glanced quickly up at you to see your eyes already on him. a soft smile rested on your lips as you ducked your head back down to your work.

reggie felt those familiar butterflies arise in him. you still managed to steal his heart even after breaking it.

that’s gotta hurt.

++++

i’m missing you, do you miss me too? i’m missing all your cues ‘cause baby, it’s hot in here and i’m filled with fear, ‘cause i know you don’t like to lose.

“i miss her.” reggie slumped down in his seat, shuffling his shoes gently on the pine floor.

“dude she literally just said she couldn’t make it to bowling.” bobby walked towards his sulking bandmate. he had just completed a turn and glanced back to see the last three pins fall.

it was alex’s go. on his way to the rack of multicolored bowling balls, he patted bobby on the back as a ‘congrats, man!’

“i don’t just mean tonight. after i told her and- and after i ghosted you guys for a couple weeks- sorry about that by the way.” luke dismissively waved him off, nodding for him to continue. “she’s been ignoring me. at first she would at least smile at me, but now she won’t even look in my direction. i know i messed up, but this is just confusing.”

the boys had decided to relax this friday night. after having practice everyday this week and working nonstop, a celebratory pizza and bowling night seemed appropriate. you had actually suggested the small bowling alley a couple towns over for the boys to go. they insisted you come along, but you had already made plans.

they weren’t the only ones with a busy schedule. between managing the band, work, school, and maintaining your own personal relationships, you needed a break. friday was the only night you had free, so you made the most of it. bowling could wait.

“she’s been distancing herself from us too, reggie. not just you.” luke admitted.

“girls are just confusing, man.” reggie looked up at bobby. he tried his hardest to smile along with his friend, but all that was on his mind was you.

he didn’t realize how much it hurt not having you there. it was in that moment when reggie decided keeping you as a friend, would mean he at least kept you in his life. even if your feelings for him never changed, not having you around was worse than losing you.

++++

“is she actually gonna show?”

“dude, why wouldn’t she?” luke and bobby murmured between themselves.

sunset curve stood backstage, tuning their instruments in preparation for their performance. you had spent a couple weeks trying to book this gig. through your hectic schedule you had spent little time at the studio with the boys, but you were still able to ‘work your magic’ -as luke would say- and get them a spot playing at a club.

they were obviously grateful, but seeing as they hardly saw you, they weren’t able to express it. regardless of them practicing in your garage, your time was exhausted running between your work and school.

now you stood front row at the club, waiting for their band- your band- to be announced on stage. little did you know, reggie had been pacing back and forth hoping you’d show. the look on his face once he caught sight of you was one you drilled into your mind.

it was pure joy.

the boys all gave the crowd a quick scan as they reached their instruments. almost at once they all saw you and smiled. their teeth weren’t showing nearly as much as reggie’s, but you could tell they were all ecstatic to see you nonetheless.

to say the performance went smoothly was an understatement. to you, they did phenomenally. it was not only the crowd’s first time hearing some of the songs, but yours as well. the boys were flawless and they knew it. you could practically see the energy radiating off of them as they took their bows.

you took no time in rushing past the crowd to the backstage, waiting eagerly to congratulate the boys.

“you came!” reggie practically leapt off the stage and into your arms.

“good to see you too, peters-” you choked, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

“let the poor girl breathe!” bobby chuckled, following the rest of the boys down the steps.

reggie quickly released you, muttering a sequence of apologies. his cheeks burned a bright pink as he finally met your eyes. there was a sort of twinkle he noticed. he couldn’t quite place it as he was blocked from your view, but he saw it nonetheless.

“you guys did amazing up there.” you smiled at the rest of the band. they all took their turn wrapping you up in sweaty hugs.

“no thanks to our amazing manager!” alex cheered.

an assortment of ‘here here’s’ and ‘cheers’ erupted from the boys. they paraded around you, talking over each other as they relived their time on stage from just moments ago.

“celebratory pizza?” luke jumped in question, arms waving towards the door.

“i’m down!”

“you guys comin?” alex nodded towards you and reggie. the two of you stepping away from the group subconsciously.

“we’ll be there in a bit. can i talk to you for a sec, reg?” the three guys behind you exchanged a set of looks. each raising their eyebrows higher than the next. alex was quick to push his bandmates out the door to give the two of you some privacy.

you couldn’t help the blush that crept onto your cheeks as you looked back at reggie. he too had a thin layer of pink dusting his cheeks. the two of you stood for a moment, neither speaking. the seconds between the boys leaving and your first words felt like an eternity.

you shifted from foot to foot, trying to find the right words.

“i just wanted to say-” you started.

“i’m sorry!” the two of you blurted out in unison.

“you first.” you giggled, ducking your head as the boy in front of you stuttered his words.

“ok, ok. i’m sorry for springing all of that onto you a couple months ago and then ditching the band while i drank away my petty feelings. it was pretty shitty- i mean being rejected is pretty shitty too, but the way i reacted was bad. it just hurt because i’ve liked you for so long and when you said you didn’t feel the same, i didn’t know what to do so i hid and-” reggie rambled and only paused to take a breath. you took the opportunity to pipe up.

“reggie...i need to apologize, too. i could have had an actual conversation instead of walking away from you-”

“no!” reggie bounced forward slightly, making you stumble back in laughter. “i mean...your reaction was valid. you probably weren’t expecting it all. you not feeling the same shouldn’t have changed our relationship and i realized that all recently. i’d much rather have you as my manager and friend than lose you completely. so…y/n-” reggie stepped forward again, reaching for your hands. you nervously laced your fingers with his, looking up as he continued on with his dramatic speech. “y/n, will you do me the honor of being my friend?”

you couldn’t help but giggle at his theatrics. reggie was sincere and you could see that. he didn’t want to lose you and even if it was only a month of you two hardly seeing each other, he knew he didn’t want you out of his life.

“reggie…?” your tone scared him. reggie’s eyebrows raised slightly at your sudden seriousness. were you going to leave him right then and there? would you not want to be his friend anymore?

“what if your feelings weren’t all one sided anymore?”

++++

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[beastsars]

idiomatic | louis (beastars) x carnivore!reader

i wont promise that i’m over this trope, but i think i have fed myself enough to focus on other avenues. a few people sent in some legoshi stuff so that’s my next wip. keep them coming.

as usual, more mature content below. some fun times at the masquerade party. 

“and what, pray tell, am i to do about these antlers?”

pursing your lips, you gave the stout head ornaments an accusatory look. those with distinctive marking and other decorative characteristics often had the hardest time concealing their species. it was easy enough to distinguish between herbivore and carnivore but the fun was found in simply not caring.

if your target audience put in enough effort to disguise themselves.

parties like these broke both social and sexual boundaries, allowing people to lose inhibition and act on their baser selves. before you met louis, such environments frequently occupied your time off campus. it helped to stimulate your attraction to the opposite dynamic and eventually bribe your courage to seek out a suitable partner.

bringing him here was symbolic of returning to your roots. it would also show him that he wasn’t alone in his affections. not that the sentiment didn’t already hit close to home.

“too bad you’re not about to shed them,” you comment offhandedly, rightfully earning a sharp look of ire. chuffing at the display of pride, you vowed to yourself that you would show the male exactly what such strict dignity led him to lose out on.

patting his muzzle with unveiled condescension, you managed to slip away from his agitated grasp. the deer continued to gripe and moan while you fitted yourself into a choice dress for the evening and prowled the selection of shoes. honestly, the way pursuing beastar felt at ease displaying the less ideal parts of his personality would be endearing if it didn’t possess so much whining.

it hardly mattered. you would give him something else to occupy his attention.

catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, you offered the image a self-appreciating wink before stepping out of the closet, one leg protruding ahead of you to show off your finely fitted heels.

“tell me, if i was a herbivore, would you still beg me to bite you?”

the curve of your buttock marked the cut off point of your dress, leaving little to the imagination as the rest of the material hugged your form. this clothing style opted without the aperture to fit a tail, allowing the appendage to swing idly from beneath the depths. it often incited others to perk your mood if only for a brief show.

louis has obviously seen you in less, but the presentation was too pungent with erotic intentions for him to remember anything else. grinning, you permitted his hands to edge the hem of your dress, warm palms marking promises against your thighs.

“and what exactly do you plan to be tonight?” he drawled slowly.

you knew that look. the one that was going to quickly get you out of this dress if you didn’t corral him into his own suit for the night.

pressing a chaste kiss to his nose, you nudged him towards the closet.

“i guess you’ll have to find out.”

you opted to rent out a mask for the evening. this way you could keep your choice hidden for a few moments longer and ideally find something fresh to attend the party in. you had a nice selection at home, but you’d cycled through them enough that somebody would approach you out of familiarity.

upon arriving, you had put louis in the good hands of friends who helpfully escorted him out of your sight and into his own fitting room. but not without complaint as his sputtering curses trailed down the hall.

“he’s a cutie. he yours?”

offering a noncommittal shrug, you settled on a thinner, less intricate mask for the evening. your dress was inviting and memorable enough. in a place like this, it was hard to tell who would challenge a pair.

at the clink of glass against the table, you efficiently down the alcohol and reached for the bottle to chase the burn. sexual prowess aside, you possessed enough restraint to cater accordingly to the opposite disposition. it was more for the eased minds than anything else.

“you’ll have your hands full keeping females and males alike off of him. he’s a built boy. anyone would love to see what he’s packing,” there was a tease to the voice but desire had a place too. you doubted it would take long for subtlety to be washed out. proprietary didn’t exactly have a place here.

polishing off the rest your your drink, you made an effort to pat down any remaining wrinkles before donning your mask. “well, i better get to him quickly then.”

“it’s rather delicate. made of papier mache ,i think. do be careful, it’s borrowed.”

his words of warning were no match for your inquisitive touch, however, as you stretched up against his body to prod against the medium surrounding his antlers.

they’d fashioned him as a moose of all things.

you didn’t know how you hadn’t thought of it. but truly, it was the of the few options available to at least conceal his dominant species. without the stench of alcohol anyone would know he was a herbivore, but at least this way he would abide by the base rules.

the covering of his antlers was more of an addition than part of the mask. the inner workings using his antlers as a statue to hang the camouflage over. it was rather convincing.

when the costume creaked threateningly at your touch, louis’ hand shot up to snag your wrist.

“i said it’s fragile,” he insisted.

the hiss of his voice encouraged your gaze to drop to his mask to give it it’s own appreciation. it was certainly wider than his own face, marginally longer too, to account for the massive beast he was portraying. coupled with his slim but muscled body, even beneath the suit, he was likely to garner some provocative attention. it was a shame you had to break some many hearts openly tonight.

humming an octave lower than your usual voice, you pressed yourself against the male with your arms around his waist. chin propped against his chest, you offered a cheeky grin.

“so what do you think?”

forced to enter from the back due to his identifiable features, he’d wasn’t awarded to opportunity to take in the scenery. the night was young and tame as most of the individuals simply mingled and broke ice. you wondered how long it would take for habits to surface.

“it seems like any other social event,” he muttered distractedly. he was likely trying the mundane task of attempting to unveil species from beneath their masks. everyone fell privy to the game sooner or later.

louis palmed at your side,” more importantly, why do you smell so strongly of intoxication.”

“trade off of being a carnivore, unfortunately. herbivores feel safest when we’re too drunk off our asses to pull rank.” rising to toes you spoke with conspiracy in his ear while your free hand trailed down his midline. “personally, i think they just want to take advantage.”

the male didn’t take too kindly to being groped in public, quickly seizing your other hand as he hissed. “it seems they're not the only ones.”

unable to resist laughing, you let him have the control while it lasted. “baby, you have no idea.”

despite your best efforts, more than a few figures approached you in greeting. without the pleasantries of names, most of the conversation was geared towards speculative tastes and pillars of society. already trained in the practice small talk, louis led more of the conversation than he followed. his strong nature captured a majority of the attention anyway with his passionate disposition towards the arts. 

sipping idly at something fruity, you leaned comfortably into his arm as your gaze wandered the party. as the night wore on, it was beginning to grow as more individuals showed up fashionably late. the amount of alcohol had doubled to accommodate as more trays made rounds. they naturally gravitated towards the carnivores more, no one ever having to reach more than an arms length for a glass. 

louis laughed earnestly next to you, the pads of his fingers tracing odd shapes on your back as he transitioned smoothly into another topic. he seemed to be handling it all much better than you expected but the real festivities had hardly begun. 

the moment the conversation began to veer towards the more illicit ventures of business, you politely excused yourselves to a less occupied corner of the room. dragging louis down by your grip at his elbow, you fell back eagerly into the plush couches. 

“you seem to be enjoying yourself at least,” you mentioned as you leaned down to massage the muscle above the cut of your heel. your departure had a dual purpose as you really just need a moment off your feet. as exquisite as your shoes were, they rarely offered much comfort. 

you hadn’t even realized that louis hadn’t even acknowledged your response as you switched to the other foot and ultimately debated taking them off while you rested. it certainly wouldn’t be the most unsightly proposition. eyes sliding shut, you leaned back again. maybe a few more drinks would change your mind about your less than ideal clothing choices. 

at the sudden tension of muscle beneath you, your gaze snapped open to assess the problem. 

“are they?”

from his broken articulation alone, you had an inclination of what was transpiring. you were wondering how long it would take. 

humming delightfully from your position curled up against him, you followed his gaze across the room to a pair who decided to take initiative to properly get the get together started. clothing strewn this way and that, the left nothing to the imagination as they rutted against one another.

louis shuddered as your claw teased the fastens of his suit jacket but you didn’t go as far to pry the button from its place. in a situation like this, he was no better than a virgin and likely as easily frightened if approached wrong. not that it would stop you from proding. 

“lou, you feel so warm. are you embarrassed?”

unable to help himself, the stag stuttered in his speech.” they’re practically mating in public.”

“ are mating in public,” you chided unhelpfully.

this was nothing new for you to partake in. with each new realization from louis as he experienced your world with naive eyes, it made you head buzz from the thrill of it all. you leaned away from him long enough to snag a floating flute from the hovering attendant. it wasn’t as strong as what you’d knocked down prior but hopefully it would be enough to ease some of the tension from his shoulders.

nibbling at the exposed tuffs of his ears, you prompted him to drink. seemingly grateful for the distraction the male downed the champagne without a second thought.

he really was such a bundle of nerves.

ignoring his startled grapple at your sides, you lifted a leg over his lap and settled on top of him. your body didn’t offer much of a shield, but your weight was enough of a diversion.

by partaking in the drink, he’d solved the mystery of where the mouthpiece of his mask for you. with confidence, you were able to tilt up his head and slot your mouths together. he resists at first, the protest only give you the opening to slide your tongue between his lips.

you moan eagerly and vocally, utilizing your own sounds to drown out the commotion behind you. you capture his bottom lips between your teeth, swallowing the sweet taste of his gasp as you test him by grinding softly. the pinch of his fingers don’t go unnoticed but he doesn’t try to stop it either.

breaking away with a harsh pant of your own, you make a slow effort of loosening the buttons of his jacket, giving him every opportunity to escape the proposition.

“this is why i brought you here, lou.”

his grip at your hips pulsed like a heartbeat, fluctuating in intensity as he traded glances between you and the moving bodies around you. it generally only took one couple to take the plunge for the others to follow suit.

the wide room was starting to truly burst with life, coating the walls with a lustful aura. masks of all shapes and sizes engaging in causal conversation while observing the unhurried fucking of others as if in a pristine museum.

you let him keep the jacket on to give him some sort of protection, still mindful of his frazzled psych as you left chaste kisses along his neck.

“what? so i’d fuck you in public?” learning from his dramatic prose on stage, louis seemed to be snatching at all of his talents to compose himself. you snatched yet another flute of something more colorful this time, tipping against his lips without warning to bring his attention back to your small corner.

“not that . if you pay attention, you’d see they aren’t unlike us.”

latching your lips back to his throat, you mouthed your words as the glass trembled against his.

“see that ox and flamingo over there? the first is a mountain goat, i can’t pinpoint the species but i recognize the stance. and the pretty little thing he has bent over the banister, a lynx- see, there’s her cute little tail wagging.” your nose traces his jaw. “herbivores and carnivores sharing heated passion without ostracization. it’s not just a kink, louis, it’s a lifestyle.”

you can see the moment the clarity parts the clouds of his cognition. gone is the speculation as he comes to terms with the hidden intentions of your invitation. it was rare that you did anything subtly with him, he often having ot maintain propriety. 

there were obviously other factors staked against either of you going public with your relationship, the most prominent lighting a slow spark toward the eventual dissolution of your arrangement. but he had never really thought past his own adoration of you. by now it was beyond the scope of just the sexual nature/ yet without positive societal examples,, he was often left scrambling with labeling his feelings. 

while this-gathering to say the least- wasn’t the best example to base his own experiences on as he took it all in, it wasn’t hard to see where the stark black and white began to blur. 

leave it to you to utilize the most extreme to make a point.

louis surprised you then by breaking his inner monologue and fitting his hand against the smooth column of your throat. his hold much more self-assured than before. the gradual change shot straight to your core as you wriggled.

“but you didn’t answer me.” the hold pulls your mouth away as he forcefully captures your attention this time. there is no doubt that most of his valor is a product of the mask, no different than the one he wears on stage. but your relative appreciate drew together more likeness between the two than you were willing to admit. louis always put so much effort in commanding an audience that he rarely was able to admire how effortlessly he was able to do so with you. 

“a lot a pretty words when the truth of it all was just that you wanted to bring me here to make a show out of yourself.” louis felt his own arousal spike as the truth of the statement struck him as well. “you want them all to see how much you love to take it from a herbivore.”

you answer with a hasty nod, breathing hitching under the restraint you’d functioned with until now. “please, lou. dominate me.”

it doesn’t take you long to adopt your shameless nature, hips undulating and grinding your core against his swelling erection. you still try to appeal to louis more kept disposition though, sliding close and sliding your hand between the gap to rub friction circles against the junction of his pants.

unable to resist teasing, you press the pad of your thumb against the tented head. “what a bad boy you’re being lou lou too. and you always accuse me of being the dirty slut.”

despite the natural restriction of his vocals, louis manages to growl, a flash of ire behind the mask. you arch as his hand wiggles under your dress, easily finishing your soiled undergarments and tucking them to the side. he slides two fingers home to the third knuckle without preamble.

“look at you, you’re even wetter than when we’re at home. you say this was for me, but look how shameless you are.” he starts to pump them in and out slowly, and you answer with a voluntary roll of your hips. he was right. you were desperate for him but the hardly changed given the setting or audience.

squeezing his shoulder for balance, you melt into a purring moan as his fingers curl within your depths. it takes more effort than it should to break your own trace to escape the pleasure enough to fumble with his zipper. louis exhales a long shuddering breath as your fingers close around him. you’re both ready without the threat of prematurity, riding on the exhilaration of the environment.

a shuddering sigh shatters the tension building within your throat as he replaces his fingers with his cock, dragging you down to take every inch of him until you’re sitting at the base. he doesn’t even reprimand you when you instinctively reach for his antlers, the thin paper crinkling under your touch as rotate you himself to ride the stuff arousal.

you were vaguely aware of your small circle being encroached on by observing parties. more grateful than anything that louis appeared to be more focused on you than their presence- a choked gasp scrambled from your lips as he brought you down in forceful thrust, a keen whine following.

when you tried to find his gaze, you found that it wasn’t even on you. the glassy haze flickering behind you around the room, holding a lazy challenge to any and every figure. it fed into the thrill to know he was getting off on the audience as much as you were.

louis pace was sloppy, but expected given the mixed influence of alcohol, your body and room around him. it all came together in the thickest mixture of lust either of you had had the privilege of sharing.

“you’re so beautiful. the world deserves to see you like this.”

a hasty nod of agreement is all you can manage, because the weight of his grounding hips and pounding thrusts are tearing away your grip on reality. you feel a piece of the mache tear away with your claws as you shudder around the drag of his cock as it sends you spiraling into release.

louis rides your aftershocks, succumbing to your quaking thighs and fluttering walls as you both collapse beneath the weight of your combined climax.

you fall forward against his chest, hiding all evidence of your joining as you soak in the thick musk. around you bodies shift again, their muttered compliment sticking to your body as they transition to the next showing. the two of you stay like that for a long moment, rising off the expansion of the others chest as you slowly collect yourselves.

curling your face into the side of his neck, you lapped gently, snickering when he twitched you’re life within your depths. pressing a kiss there you eventually manage to prop yourself up again.

“well the night’s still young and i see you’re up for another round. let’s give them their moneys worth.”

[lovelikedestiny]

Happy Birthday @gildingthemoon!!!

I wish you a wonderful day to celebrate and all the best in the world! <3 Today belongs only to you and I hope a lot of people tell you what an incredible human being you are!

I want to gift you with a small, fluffy, happy TOG-oneshot and thank you for being an amazing beta who fights against all errors in my drafts and is delighted by the German sayings I still use unintentionally! I’m very glad to have ‘met’ you! I hope you’ll like the oneshot and you’re grinning like a honey-cake-horse as we say here ;)

*throws a big hug at you* <3

The little things

Under the midnight blue velvet of the night in the empty streets of Malta Joe looks like a celestial being and Nicky feels himself enchanted by his appearance. By his wide, flashing smile, those warm, deep eyes which are surrounded by lovely crinkles and radiate so much emotion that Nicky sometimes has the feeling his heart couldn’t cope with the amount of happiness Joe’s very existence has gifted him with.

When they're out and about and the sun makes Joe's golden skin glow and kisses his silky-soft curls with warm rays, turning his eyes into obsidian and onyx, just so much more precious than all jewelry in the world, Nicky occasionally forgets how to breathe. Of course, after more than 900 years, he knows what his love looks like and knows him better than himself, but that doesn't change the fact that Joe is still beautiful. Beautiful and a constant at his side, who always manages to lead Nicky out of any darkness back into the light.

A cheerful, warm constant that walks by Nicky's side tonight and is the most beautiful thing Nicky has ever seen.

He promptly stumbles over the sidewalk and staggers a few steps before he manages to get hold of himself, hears Joe giggling behind him and has to grin too.

They’re not totally drunk. 

The pleasant warmth in his stomach and the feeling of lightness confirm Nicky in his conclusion and he tightens his grip on Joe's hand as the latter helps him regain his balance. They are only slightly drunk, if at all. Drunk? No. Tipsy! That's the word Nicky was looking for. They're tipsy, he states with satisfaction.

"Careful, my heart," Joe says with a chuckle. “We don't want you to fall on your pretty face. It would be a real shame if you’d hurt yourself today. I like the blue shirt.”

"Really?" Nicky asks, lips curled up into a small grin, pulling Joe a little closer, who willingly follows the movement.

"Really," Joe says grinning and lets his eyes slide so clearly over Nicky's appearance that he thinks he can feel Joe's gaze like a delicate touch. “It accentuates your eyes and your shoulders. And those pants…” He flicks Nicky on the ass. "... also emphasize an area of ​​yours that is very close to my heart. I could easily come up with ideas.”

Nicky shudders when Joe looks at him from below through his eyelashes with a look he knows all too well. Heat surges through his veins and he smiles mischievously and nudges Joe's nose. "I hope they are good ideas."

"Hm," Joe hums approvingly and hooks his fingers into the loops of Nicky's belt to pull him closer. "Very good ideas."

It's so easy to tilt his head, angling it just right, and put his lips on Joe’s who has already moved towards his mouth. Flowers of red fire bloom behind Nicky's closed lids, shooting stars of silvery light and suns of golden embers.

He enjoys the passion that surges through his veins, a steady stream that has never stopped flowing since Nicky first kissed those soft lips, which can enthusiastically recite poetry, are twisted in concentration while drawing, can smile so warmly that Nicky's heart glows, showing him how much Joe loves him when they get lost in each other's bodies amid sheets and pillows.

Nicky is convinced that they are doing good in the world. They protect the innocent, they are their shield in battle and their sword when they cannot hold one themselves and he believes in what they are doing. Just as much as he believes in his family, in Joe. But even if they can make a difference in everyday life with their good deeds, there is something essential that should not be overlooked.

The little things.

Like the sultry air that dances around them through the warmth of the day and the dark sky in front of whose midnight blue canvas the moon shines large and silver. Like Joe's elegant artist hands, which he could feel blindly and which lie firmly and securely on his hips and pull him closer to the glowing, muscular body. Like the fruity taste of good wine on Joe's tongue and the salty sweat from dancing on his lips. Like the familiar tickling of his beard on Nicky's chin and the soft texture of his curls, in which Nicky buries his fingers and elicits Joe a rumble, which Nicky catches and tastes in his mouth.

It's those little things that should be cherished.

Distant laughter causes them to break the kiss, and Nicky tries to fight the urge not to pounce on Joe again when he whines softly and tries to hold on to Nicky.

Some time ago it wasn't even possible to hold Joe in public or simply to interlace their fingers. And even if there are still people who make the world more terrible than it could be, Nicky is infinitely grateful that in most countries he is allowed to kiss the other half of his heart. To kiss Joe and laugh and dance and live with him.

As soon as Nicky thinks that, Joe starts humming and grabs Nicky's hands just to rock them gently back and forth. His eyes are soft with tenderness and Nicky can feel his heart cramp from the affection he feels towards Joe.

Even though they have been together for more than nine hundred years and Nicky knows Joe better than himself, there are still new things they learn about each other. New habits that they develop, new preferences that they discover. In moments like these, when it's just the two of them in their own bubble of peace, Nicky finds no doubt about their relationship, their solid bond that binds them invisibly and is as strong as ever.

Of course, he is much older than most people on this planet and accordingly has a lot more experience, but uncertainties still exist. It is not uncommon for Nicky to lose himself in thought because nagging doubts about a decision he has made corrode him from the inside. They make mistakes in their jobs doing good because they are human. Everybody makes mistakes.

Joe is the only thing in Nicky's long life that he never doubted. An indispensable support that gives him security, just like Nicky will always have Joe's back.

Because Joe is his heart and soul.

Too many words to say and too few words to express how Nicky feels about Joe are on his tongue, so Nicky joins Joe's humming before he starts to sing softly.

Nicky has no problem with being the center of attention, but he prefers to disappear into the background and watch everything from there. If you overlook him or he does not attract attention, others tend to underestimate him and his abilities and he has already used this to his advantage several times.

Joe is the only audience Nicky will ever need, and the knowing flash in Joe's eyes and glowing smile are the only applause Nicky really wants.

Although he and Joe often sing songs together - evenings when Nicky cooks and Joe assists him while they use a wooden spoon as a microphone and Joe starts swinging the kitchen towel while dancing are one of the best - Joe stays silent.

Swaying them gently, Joe's whole focus is on Nicky, who continues to sing a song as old as time itself, tied to precious memories that only they and no one else share. Nicky sings for Joe like he often does when Joe asks him to or he sits down in the kitchen while Nicky can't get rid of a catchy tune while cutting vegetables.

Nicky sings for Joe because Joe is the song that springs from his heart and is embedded in his bones.

As he turns Joe around, Joe laughs exuberantly and the sound reverberates in Nicky like the precious echo of a long-forgotten chiming of a bell.

"I love it when you sing," Joe says, releasing Nicky to give him a little applause, for which Nicky gives an exaggerated bow. It is not easy to stay on his feet, but since the alcohol doesn’t exist that long in their body due to their healing, Nicky doesn’t worry too much about his balance.

"I love you," Nicky replies and Joe dramatically presses a hand on his heart.

"People call me the poet, but it's your words that take my breath away, habibi." He winks at Nicky and Nicky is pretty sure that he looks back with a stupid grin.

Nicky doesn't know if it's such a good idea to climb the rock at the side of the street, but before he can change his mind he has reached the top and looks down at Joe, who is watching him with amusement.

"I could take your breath away with something other than words," he says bluntly, enjoying the effect it has on Joe. Joe swallows hard, blushing slightly, which Nicky doesn't even need to see to know it's happening. Just like the dark fire that makes Joe's eyes burn.

"Is that a challenge?" Joe asks roughly and bites his lip with a grin, causing Nicky to almost fall off the stone. He catches himself in time, but would have had no problem with falling into Joe's arms.

"A promise," he corrects smirking and Joe takes a step towards the stone and tilts his head back slightly to meet Nicky's gaze.

"Are you being funny tonight, Mr. Al-Kaysani?"

"With such good company, indeed, Mr. Di Genova."

They both giggle like silly teenagers and Joe raises an arm in the air and paces up and down in front of the stone like he's on a stage. “Standing like a Greek God on a rock,” he begins to recite. "Moonlight pouring over you and you have a beautiful..."

"Cock," Nicky finishes deadpan and Joe gasps and runs into a nearby street lantern.

"I didn't mean to say that!" He protests with a meaningful smile on his face and helps Nicky jump more or less graceful off the stone.

"You thought it, I said it," Nicky says and blinks innocently at Joe, who laughs and sways slightly.

“We complement each other perfectly, huh? Such an extraordinary coincidence.” Joe nudges him right in the side where Nicky is ticklish and the snorting laugh bursts out of Nicky inexorably as he tries to turn away from Joe.

“Didn't you read the contract? A perfect match has to be guaranteed in order to be in a relationship for nine hundred years,” Nicky says snickering and Joe pretends to be amazed.

“I had no idea about that! I always leave paperwork to you.”

Nicky nods, playing seriously. "Furthermore, the contract requires that I enjoy a cuddle at least three times a week."

"Phew, luckily I have received the world cuddler Award."

"I know. I can rightly confirm that you truly deserve this title."

It is uncertain what the night will bring them, they have made no plans. Nevertheless, the random brushing of their hands and the lingering of their pinkies on the back of the other’s hand are certain indications of what the rest of the night might look like.

"I don't need any more than confirmation of my love."

"You deserve all the acknowledgment in the world because you are expensive."

"Expensive? Do you mean ‘worth it’? ”Joe frowns. “Or was it precious? Who knows what we oh! That was an alliteration!"

"What?" Alliteration sounds a little bit like alligator in Nicky's mind, and he really hopes Joe hasn't seen one. "What was what?"

“An alliteration, you know. When we want words which...haha! Another one!”

Nicky follows Joe's gaze. "Where? Oh, that's just a cat."

"Ah, Nicolo." Joe shakes his head slightly and laughs softly to himself.

"What is it?" Nicky doesn't remember saying anything funny. "Do you want to share your thoughts? A nickel for your thoughts or whatever they say."

"I think it was a coin for your thoughts. Or dollars?”

Nicky has to snort and Joe starts laughing too. "It does not matter. We could continue this conversation at home.”

"Continue it at home?" Joe repeats indignantly. "Nicolo, we were in the middle of a conversation about stilistic means!"

"Okay, uh...if you’re able to come up with another alliteration, I'll do the thing with my tongue at home," Nicky says without thinking, completely relieved of the worries the world has in store for them, through Joe's mere presence and Malta as their retreat.

Joe laughs and raises his eyebrows. "The thing with the tongue? Ya amar, I have no idea what you’re ta- oh. Oh.“ When Joe understands, he stops abruptly, eyes widening. “Lima? Do you mean...Do you mean Lima?”

Nicky nods and keeps walking, grinning, causing Joe to pull himself out of his freeze and rush after him. "Do you really mean Lima? Oh my god, you can't just say something like that and keep walking!”

"So you are not interested?" 

Joe almost chokes. “Not intere...Nicolo! It is impossible that I am not interested in it! The thing with your tongue, Lima, sweet heavens! That was...that was…” Joe seems to remember Nicky's condition and squints his eyes in concentration. "On it. How much time do I have?"

While Joe is thinking hard, Nicky indulges in the serenity of strolling and reaches for Joe's hand, which Joe withdraws and places on something else.

"Yusuf?"

"Yes?"

"That is not my hand."

"Oh sorry, I guess I got a little confused in the dark," Joe says, grinning, but doesn't take his hand off Nicky's ass.

It’s the little things, Nicky thinks by himself as he watches Joe muttering under his breath and then throwing Nicky a beaming smile when he has an idea for another alliteration. It’s the little things that make this imperfect world so perfect. 

[zwiezraczek]

Look who's back 😜😜 6 with Billy please! They meet for the first time and Y/N's quite bitchy (sarcastic, quick comments etc). But Billy know it's an act and she's actually quite nice and shy 🐼

Princess [Blurb]

6. “I like the good things in life, darling.”

 Note: Aaaaah I missed you so much!!! 💕 I hope you're doing well, lovely! 💕 I hope you don't mind me taking Billy out the Ghosts context and making of him a "normal" parkour expert - he's parkouring with Storror: law - and I hope you'll enjoy it!!! 💕

~~~

New Year's Eve was your favorite time of the year, as you could put glitter all over your body and face and nobody would care, everybody would admire your pretty face shining in the middle of the room filled with strangers as you danced the night away, along with your partner in crime. You would never feast without her because she made you feel safe and you could be yourself around her. You didn't have to please, you could be your quirky self. And when she invited you to a party one of her friend's held in a club for New Year you agreed immediately. And when she told you it was an seventies themed party you lost it all. You were already looking for a sparkling dress on the internet.

And when the day had come, you couldn't resist to put some glitter on your eyelid and a red lipstick to match your delicate skin and your peachy glittery long dress. Your friend's mouth went agape when she saw you standing in front of her as you opened the door when she came to pick you up. She clapped her hands in excitement and you couldn't take your eyes off her beautiful black glittery flare pants, her booty would rock the whole world tonight.

The club you came into had an immense disco ball on the ceiling, reflecting the purple lights all across the room between dancing bodies – often holding a flute in hand as they chatted carelessly. From all the parties you went to, this one looked the best so far, and you absolutely loved it just from looking. The music caressed your ears as you recognized the bands which were blasting from the loud speakers, and before you could dragg both of you on the dancefloor to dance forever and ever she captured your hand to bring you to a quieter place where – probably – her friend waited for both of you.

“Blaine,” your friend exclaimed joyfully as a black man turned himself to face her and immediately on his face appeared a smile.

“Lovely, you're here,” he replied before she jumped into his arms like a kid and you couldn't help yourself but smile. “I'm so glad you came, I was afraid you wouldn't!”

“Missing Blaine's party would be a sin and I know that! And I brought a friend,” she added excited before turning and stretching her arm towards you. “Y/n, come come! You need to meet Blaine!” And with a smile, a confident smile hiding your shyness, you came towards them. “Blaine, this is y/n, my bestfriend! And y/n, this is Blaine!”

“Your future boyfriend,” he precised and she just rolled her eyes. “Nice to meet you, y/n. I hope you'll have a great time here!”

“I don't doubt that my bestfriend's boyfriend organized a great party in here,” you teased and she hit your forearm as you giggled. “We'll discuss about hiding boyfriends later, you little snake!”

“I'm not a snake,” she protested, pouting and Blaine put his index on her cheek.

“Yes, you're absolutely not a snake,” you corrected with a smirk. “I'm going to make myself at home then, leaving the bird with the snake,” you stated and went away before your bestfriend's hand could reach your skin again.

And as you made your way through the dancing crowd, you looked back at your bestfriend being kissed on the cheek by Blaine: what a little snake she was! You were happy, but sad. You hoped that this year would be like the others, you spending your night with her, in a club or in a bar dancing together and laughing about the past year and hoping for a better new. Not tonight, your karma said. What a bitch, you replied before taking a shot while you sat at the bar.

You proceeded to take a few drinks, your fingertips circling on the edge of the glass as you looked for your bestfriend from time to time, right behind you. You finally decided to go and sit in a calmer corner, and began to scroll on your Instagram feed during a few minutes, sighing from time to time. Maybe not the best New Year's Eve party finally, maybe not...

“Darling, can I join you,” you heard a voice above your head and you saw a Latina girl with eyes as beautiful as stars in the moonlight wearing a silk night blue dress.

“Of course,” you babbled and put your phone away as you looked at her and she waved into a man's direction with a wide smile.

“I'm Amelia,” she presented herself as she sat right next to you.

“I'm y/n,” you replied with a faint smile.

“And this is Billy,” she said as a blond man came right after her with two drinks in hands before looking at you. Your eyes locked and you could swear that you saw a faint glow in his eyes. Under the club's light his eyes looked like pearls and you couldn't take yours from his. This moment could have lasted forever, or just a few micro-seconds. “He's a bit stupid, but I love him anyway,” she added with a quick movement of her hand before looking at him with a smile. “I love you Billy.”

“You always love me when you're drunk,” he teased before handing Amelia her drink.

“Can't a woman love her bestie just like that, what do you thing y/n,” she asked before dunking her lips into the alcohol.

“I think she absolutely can,” you replied siding with her as Billy just sighed. You crossed your legs and leaned forward a bit.

“You're not helping, beauty,” he said before attempting to catch his glass but you were quicker than him and you had your hand already on the glass. He looked at you, and with a smile you drank from his glass. Fruity. Delicate. Nice taste.

“Billy, I love her more than I love you now,” Amelia stated as she began to laugh when she saw Billy's expression when you drank from his glass. She put her hands around your neck, hugging you joyfully. With the corner of your eye, you looked at Billy and tried to guess him emotions. Anger? Pity? Was he impressed or vexed?

“Good for you, Amelia,” he snapped dryly. He was vexed, definitely.

“I'm so so sorry for drinking from your glass,” you cooed as Amelia let you go, with your eyelashes fluttering and making your eyelids shine even more than they did. “Poor little boo, do you want me to offer you a drink?”

“Unlike you, I can pay myself something without stealing.” He wanted to play, and you had nothing to lose.

“Who said I couldn't pay myself something, playboy,” you asked innocently and Amelia just rose her shoulders.

“You stealing my drink apparently.”

“I like the good things in life, darling,” you replied with a little smirk.

“This was all fun and games Billy,” Amelia intervened with a drunkish smile and Billy sighed even more. “Look at this angelic glittery face, y/n's an angel,” she stated with a little sparkle in her eye before she heard a song and began to clap. “An angel that will dance with me right now because I love this song!” She got up and grabbed you by your hand, leaving Billy and his empty glasses in the corner.

~~~

It became a little bit too hot inside for you, so you insisted to go on the terrace by yourself, leaving Amelia and your partner in crime inside. You had to think about... Things. And alcohol and the noise and the heat wouldn't help you. You didn't want to come in, but you began to feel the chills on your skin.

Here, you could calm down for a moment, not be the social butterfly you were in order to hide your shyness and everything that surrounded it. You developed this capacity to cope with loneliness, and it drained your energy away every single time but it gave you the opportunity to meet amazing people too. So it seemed to be worth it.

Suddenly, you felt a jacket on your shoulders. You immediately rose your head to see who tried to save you from a cold, and you saw Billy. The guy you teased during the whole evening. You couldn't put a finger on what you wanted from him, what your inner slut wanted and what your inner timid girl wanted, but all both of them knew was that he was just an adorable target to annoy because of the pouty face he made everytime you said something.But now, without any audience, your sharp tongue was gone.

“You're hiding here then,” he said before sitting next to you. “I was wondering where the thief went, and I found you here.” You looked at him and shyly smiled before sighing.

“Thanks for the jacket, I was freezing out here.” You felt his gaze on you, and your lips suddenly went dry.

“Don't steal my jacket,” he teased you this time and you rolled your eyes.

“I won't I promise,” you whispered. “So, Billy, what you're doing in general? Besides letting strangers steal your drinks and jacket.”

“I do parkour, I'm part of a team right now, we're not doing anything big but well... It's still fun and stuff.”

“That's so cool,” you said dreamily, and he looked right in your eyes. Oh shit, your inner slut stopped breathing.

“And what do you do,” his raspy voice caught you off guard. Dear lords. You lost it all.

“I'm an art teacher,” you babbled, you began to drown in his eyes. It was suddenly so hot outside.

“The only art I see here is you,” he replied as he caressed your cheek gently.

You couldn't quite figure how you found yourself pulling him closer but the collar of his white shirt to kiss you. Your lips burning red dancing with his, you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin and slowly his lips against your neck as you closed your eyes with your fingers wandering in his blond locks. You gasped and he whispered into your ear.

“I also like the good things in life, darling.”

[hockeylvr59]

Life Changes Part 8 || Paul Bissonnette

Summary: It’s crazy how quickly your life can change...one minute you’re a struggling personal injury lawyer and the next you’re working for one of the hottest sports podcasts to supplement your income. A new job and the end of a long-term relationship was just the beginning for Leigh Thompson when it comes to life changes. Thankfully she has the one and only Paul Bissonnette at her side to help her handle them all. 

Authors Note: Woooo!!! I finally got past my writer’s block and cranked this part out. I had been stuck on it for the past month and now we can move onto some more fun stuff but I needed to establish some connections and such here first for down the road.  

Requested: [ ] yes [x] no     Word Count: 2,654

Warnings: none really, some alcohol consumption (on Paul’s part)

________

“If nothing ever changed there’d be no butterflies.” 

It was a short drive from the hotel to the Mandalay Bay Events Center. Though Paul’s fingers were entwined with mine during the drive, even his touch couldn’t quell the anxiety I felt as the limo slowed to a halt and the door opened. Paul carefully helped me out of the vehicle and his hand rested low on my back as we started toward the red carpet. The moment we stepped onto the red carpet, however, my anxiety reached its peak and I felt my body freeze in terror. The second Paul saw the look on my face he murmured for Brie to take me inside and that they would meet us there. 

By the time the guys rejoined us, Brie had managed to get a glass of water into my hands and she was assuring me that everything was okay. Deep down I knew that we had breezed by the media so quickly and casually that the odds of anyone talking about us were slim. At the same time, I felt guilty that I couldn’t handle the few minutes of formalities of being Paul’s date without feeling like I was going to have a panic attack. 

Paul’s arm rested along the curve of my lower back when he approached and he rubbed up and down soothingly. 

“Sorry that took so long ladies.” He declared like he wasn’t at all fazed by what had happened. Opening my mouth to try and apologize, I was immediately silenced as he leaned down to whisper in my ear. “Don’t. You’re fine. I get it...the media is a lot.” My second attempt at apologizing was also shut down when he declared out loud that we should head down to the floor and take our seats. 

Though he hadn’t said it, I knew Paul was trying to get me to forget about the red carpet so that it didn’t dampen the rest of the evening. After all, we still had the awards themselves as well as the after-party ahead of us. As we made our way to our seats, Paul occasionally stopped to talk to someone he knew, taking a moment to introduce me as his favorite business manager and date for the evening to each person. The more introductions we got through with no one even noticing my baby bump, the more relaxed I became at the thought that maybe it wasn’t as noticeable as I feared. As Paul had assured me through his texts when he invited me, even if it was noticeable, now that we were mostly away from the media, no one seemed likely to bring it up. 

Settled into my seat next to Paul as the awards started I couldn’t help but feel my natural smile returning, the forced smile I had plastered on in the car slowly leaving my face. The first trophy presented was the Calder and it was no surprise when Elias Pettersson was announced as the winner. He’d had such a stellar season and it was really cool getting to see someone so young experience their first career award knowing that it was likely to be the first of many. 

Next came the Lady Byng award, and I couldn’t help the laugh that spilled out of me when Aleksander Barkov commented on there being more fans from Finland than from Florida present. It was a classic hockey chirp and I peeked over at Paul to find that he was looking over at me, a lazy grin on his face. 

The GM of the year award was given to Don Sweeney from the Bruins and I felt Paul squeeze my hand a little tighter as he talked about his premature sons being his inspiration in his acceptance speech. The moment was heavy for me personally and it was clear that it was for Paul as well by the change in his breathing. As soon as Jason Zucker finished his speech for the King Clancy Award, Paul and Whit moved to slip backstage to prepare for their presentation and Brie slid over a few chairs to sit next to me. 

The Norris was given to Mark Giordano of the Calgary Flames and I smiled as he thanked his wife and kids for always putting a smile on his face after a rough night. Hockey is about family after all and it’s always nice to see more of the behind the scenes people get the credit they deserve. Following the presentation of the Norris, Auston Matthews was named as the cover athlete for NHL20 and I couldn’t help but cringe at the fact that he had sweat through his suit. 

Paul and Whit presented the Masterton Trophy, and knowing the struggles that Paul had with depression toward the end of his own career it seemed fitting. The award was given to Robin Lehner and his quote on the fact that being mentally ill doesn’t mean you’re mentally weak stuck with me because it was something that could apply to all of us at times. I could see Paul almost getting emotional on stage and it made it hard for me to fight back my own hormonal tears. 

The Selke was awarded to O’Reilly and the Jack Adams to Trotz while we waited for the guys to return to their seats, Brie sliding back to her own after sending me a smile and squeezing my hand gently. As Paul settled back in beside me I felt the baby shift, a soft flutter followed by pressure against my bladder. Thankfully the show was more than halfway over and while I wished the baby would shift off of my bladder it wasn’t something I couldn’t handle. 

Any thoughts of my bladder were quickly silenced as a discussion about Anderson Whitehouse’s prior meeting with Carey Price was brought up as the next segment for the NHL Fan Choice Feel Good Moment. I remembered having cried the first time I saw it and it was clear that I was going to cry again as tears filled my eyes when Anderson was brought onto the stage and the presenter cued up a video from Carey Price himself. 

“Carey is here.” I leaned over and whispered to Biz who looked at me like I was crazy until the man himself appeared on the stage to surprise his biggest fan. The second the two embraced the tears poured and Paul had to reach over with his pocket square in an attempt to prevent me from completely ruining my makeup. At the same time, he was openly crying as well and my heart panged once more knowing that this was affecting him as much as it did me. Men not being afraid of showing emotion was something I loved and was clearly just another factor that drew me to appreciate Paul as a coworker and friend. As the whole audience gave them a standing ovation, Paul’s hand drifted once more to my back rubbing gently. 

The Vezina, Messier, and Willie O’Ree awards were some of the last of the night and as each was presented, my growing need to use the bathroom lingered in the back of my mind, slowly becoming more urgent. 

It wasn’t at all surprising that Nikita Kucherov won both the Hart and Ted Lindsay trophies for MVP after the season he’d had and I laughed softly as Paul whispered that they were working on scoring him for an interview at some point. As the award show concluded, we lingered in our seats for a moment before Paul moved to track down more people to talk to. He was such an extrovert that it honestly made me cringe sometimes and as he engaged himself in another conversation I moved to steal Brie from Ryan. 

“I need to use the bathroom asap. Come find it with me?” I requested. With Ryan aware of where we were, the two of us headed off and by the time I finished using the bathroom given the bump and the dress, Ryan had texted that the guys were waiting for us in the lobby so that we could head to the after-party. 

___

By the time we got through Vegas traffic to the after-party, music was already playing on the rooftop bar, alcohol was flowing, and trays of food were being passed around. Leaving me with Ryan and Brie, Paul went to grab drinks for the four of us and when he returned he passed me a cup murmuring that I should just trust him. There was never a doubt that I trusted him so while I had expected to be drinking water all night, I tried the drink Paul had provided and immediately I was hooked as a sweet fruity tang hit my tongue. Chatting with Ryan and Brie for a few minutes about the awards, it wasn’t long until someone approached to chat with the guys. For almost an hour I just stood, tucked into Paul’s side as he chatted with various players about the podcast, hockey, and any shared histories. 

Eventually though, my back started to ache and my feet hurt. I didn’t want to interrupt so I didn’t say anything at first, but eventually, Paul leaned down to whisper in my ear that I should go sit on one of the many couches for a bit and just rest. Nodding, I sent him a soft smile before bowing out of the conversation and heading across the room toward an unoccupied couch. 

I’d been just people watching for about ten or fifteen minutes when another woman approached. 

“Mind if I join you?” She questioned and after assuring her she could my brain finally pieced together who it was that had joined me. Vero Fleury. While Flower hadn’t been nominated for any awards tonight, clearly they had decided to take advantage of their residence in Vegas to come hang out with friends and enjoy the party the NHL put on. 

Though I knew who she was, she introduced herself after a moment. 

“Leigh Thompson,” I replied. “I’m here with Biz.” I clarified knowing that she was probably wondering how I made my way into a private party. 

“Biz’s date...how’d you get wrapped into that?” She teased and I laughed in response knowing that question was beyond accurate. 

“I’m the business manager for the podcast and he knows I owe him,” I responded my tone light. “I just don’t owe him enough to endure a sore back and achy feet the entire night,” I added, causing her to laugh softly. For a moment I could feel her eyes on me and she shifted a bit closer so she didn’t have to speak as loudly. 

“I remember those days.” She murmured. “It’s all so worth it though.” She assured me and realizing that she had noticed my bump I nodded. 

“I sure hope so. Because this little one is wreaking havoc on my body already.” I replied. “Don’t get me wrong...I love them. But single parenthood is hard.” For just a moment I let my hand brush over my bump before resting it at my side again. 

“I can only imagine.” Vero murmured and instead of dwelling on that she pulled her phone out of her clutch, opening it to pictures of her girls and their newborn son. For the next little bit, I chatted with her about what to expect with a newborn, the joys and hardships that being a parent brought. I mentioned having to figure out how to make a nursery look like a nursery without being able to paint or hang more than a few things on the walls and Vero immediately jumped into suggestions. 

Eventually, Marc-Andre came over to join her and after pushing back my star-struck expression, he chatted about his son and daughters before diving into some stories I could use against Paul if I ever needed them. It wasn’t long before I was laughing with the two of them and had lost track of time. It had been nearly an hour since I had sat down before Paul appeared beside me, his brown eyes just a little glassy from the alcohol he’d consumed so far. 

With Paul insisting that there was someone he wanted to introduce me to, I was pulled away from the couch...but not before exchanging cell info with Vero who had insisted that I reach out if I had any questions or just needed someone else to talk to about everything that was rapidly changing in my life. She added that she would send me product suggestions and ideas for the nursery once she was home and had more time to check some things out. I was absolutely interested in whatever advice she had to give because it had been almost two decades since my mom had my sisters and having a baby was certainly different now than it had been then. 

With Paul’s guiding hand on my back again, any unease I’d been feeling from being by myself vanished. Crossing the room, Paul immediately butted his way into a conversation. 

“Sid...this is who I wanted you to meet.” He declared and instantly a flush crossed my cheeks as I realized that I was now standing in front of the first player I’d ever had a crush on. “Sid. This is our business manager Leigh. She’s a lifelong pens fan.” A million different thoughts flooded through my body, the first of which being that I needed to kill Paul for not giving a girl some warning. Instead, though I did my best to compose myself, reaching out a hand to shake Sid’s outstretched one. 

Sid was gracious as always, immediately inquiring about how I’d picked the pens as a team and after responding that it was just kind of what happens when you’re born in Pittsburgh he laughed and nodded, his familiar giggles even better in person than they are on video. Pausing, I commented on how I needed to thank him because it was his being drafted that had gotten me through some of the hardest times in my life and while the rest of the conversation was honestly a bit of a blur, at the end of it, Paul insisted that I take a picture with Sid for posterity's sake. 

Sid was subsequently pulled away and immediately I leaned into Paul’s chest, trying to quell the rapid beating of my heart. 

“I hate you. Give a girl some warning next time.” I mumbled, causing Paul to laugh. 

“Do you hate me too much to dance with me?” He inquired, his gaze soft as he looked down at me. The song had just switched to something slow and without even really thinking about it, my hand accepted Paul’s extended one letting him lead me out to the dance floor. 

Swaying softly, his hands fell to my waist and mine drifted to link behind his neck. 

“Did you have fun tonight?” He questioned softly. Nodding in response, I bit back a yawn. “Good I’m glad.” He added. “Thank you for tonight. I know this isn’t really your scene but it means the world to me that you agreed to come.” We danced until the song came to a close and after talking with a few more people Paul asked if I was ready to head out. 

Back at the hotel, Paul helped me with the zipper on my dress before disappearing into the bathroom to change from his suit. After changing, we readied for bed in a comfortable silence and then slid into bed together, Paul’s arms wrapping back around me, his hands stroking over my belly until my eyes couldn’t stay open any longer. Even more so than before, I felt safe, warm, and cared about while cuddled against his 6’2” frame. It was a feeling that was welcome but terrifying all at the same time. 

Chapter 8 Social Media: 

[lynhudsonchase]

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔅𝔞𝔯𝔡 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔗𝔥𝔢 ℌ𝔞𝔯𝔟𝔬𝔯 (A Short Story)

A 3-Part Mini-Series about our fellow Archons from Mondstadt and Liyue!

I love the best friend/brotherly dynamic that these two Archons share. And although we were never really given a scene in the game between the two, I do hope in the future of Genshin Impact that these two would meet and have a conversation together.

Hope you enjoy!

[AO3 Link]

PART 1/3: The Condolence Gift

Zhongli’s POV

A few hours after the events that had happened with the Traveler, the Salt God Archaeologist, and the Fatui Antique Fraud at Guyon Stone Forest, Zhongli returned to Wangsheng Funeral Parlor to retire from a day full of revelation and reminders of the past.

However, upon arriving at his desk, he spotted a gift wrapped in the heinous way possible and a letter placed under it. It was in the shape of a bottle. The brown paper bag hung off a canvas string too short to do a double knot around its neck with the exposed old cork and green bottle peaked through the wrapping. In a moment of contemplating the gift, the Ferrylady walked into the room and grabbed a couple of items off the shelves for the on-going funeral service when she noticed Zhongli eyeing the gift.

"The Traveler passed by here an hour ago before you arrived to drop off the gift, Mr. Zhongli. The floating guide he was with noted that it was from an old friend from Mondstadt, who wanted to offer his condolences." She spoke of note, her hands filled with bottles of perfume and incense as she stepped out of the room.

Zhongli picked up the parcel, slid the brown bag off it with ease, and viewed the bottle's label. From the looks of it, it must've been aged for almost six decades—if Zhongli did his math correctly. Of course, it was Dandelion wine, from the Dawn Winery. Zhongli loved the wine from there. I mean, who doesn't?

He searched around his desk for a bottle opener, finding one on his shelves of antiques and knickknacks. He was slowly reminded of how he came into its possession after a swift exchange with the captain of The Crux Fleet.

He pulled up a small glass as well and took his time to open the bottle, twisting the cork with much precision to avoid shattering the aged cork. With a  'pop, ' he immediately could smell a day in the summer, the fruity and flowery fragrance of the dandelions in spring, beautifully blended into perfection.

He poured himself a glass and swirled it in front of him. He admired the golden liquid as it cascaded against the glass walls and took a sip, enjoying the heat down his throat and the taste of a time where life was easier and quaint.  Ah, Yes, a fulfilling condolence gift indeed.

Zhongli then picked up the envelope that accompanied the gift. He hinted amusement at the amateur looking letter and spotted a hand-drawn windmill in the corner of the envelope. He pulled out the letter, leaned against his desk, and continued his drink.

Dear Old Friend,

It has been a few centuries since we last spoke on a personal note. It was very recently that I heard from a mutual traveler of ours that you go by the name of Zhongli now, and not...well, you have had hundreds of names back then it was hard to catch up. I also wanted to give you this rare vintage wine that I had stashed away, a condolence gift to you.

I thought it was time that I reached out to you again, especially since after my long slumber and decision to allow the City of Freedom to rule without my interventions as their Archon. It was also a good time now to visit the beautiful city of Liyue and what it had become in this day and age.

Our dear friend the Traveler did not note of anything in our earlier conversation of where I could find you in Liyue, but he did say that you'd be the one to find me, and that was better than nothing. I do enjoy the thrill of experiencing the city within its walls and people.

I hope to see you around,

Yours,

Venti

Venti. Indeed, Zhongli was unfamiliar with his new name, how many millennia had passed since he'd spoken to the Anemo Archon, who also had a different name before. Despite their cities being neighbors and well business-trading partners, the Adepti and the Archon of Mondstadt do not share the same relationship. He took another sip of his drink, his thoughts calculated the traveler's words and what he meant with"I'll find him?."

A new day has come to Liyue and Zhongli has decided to spend his morning overlooking the harbor as he used to do when had first decided on his current form, to blend around the locals of Liyue and all of its busyness in the harbor.

He stepped out of the funeral parlor, closed the double doors behind him, and made his way down towards the harbor, overlooking the two towers that serve as the opening arch for incoming trading ships. The smell of trade and business was distinct around him, the Liyue folk shouted orders and commands, and buff laborers passed crates and canvas sacks from trader ships.

In the corner of his eye, he could make out a ship from Snezhnaya, the ship's sail was a violent indigo color and the symbol of the Tsaritsa tainted on it. Fatui laborers could be seen carrying in cargo on board—perhaps an early delivery back to their motherland.

The hustle and bustle of traders around Zhongli provided ease from yesterday's events. He could tell that the people of Liyue had come a long way from the Archon War, having to flee from the Guili Assembly all those millennia ago to establish the mouth of bountiful trade in all of Teyvat. Morax couldn't have earned this city's credit alone, this was all done by the people of Liyue.

His thoughts are suddenly disrupted by the sound of a lyre. An uncommon instrument in Liyue. It was then he noticed a small group gathering nearby the Guesthouse Building. This piqued his interest as he headed towards the small crowd. In the middle of it was a bard in the oddest of green fashion, looking not older than fifteen, playing a slow tune on his lyre.

So this the City of Trade,

What beauty lies in a place so self-made,

Where its people are full of pride

A bard such as I feel so unqualified

to bask in what has come together through time and tide.

Zhongli smiled in amusement at the bard's rhymes, they were not horrible for a child, but they were very rusty for an Archon. The crowd around them also seemed amused. But of course, such amusement had to dissipate when two Millelith guards approached the growing audience.

"Hey! What is all this commotion?" Zhongli watched from the crowd as the bard stopped his playing, looking confused.

"I was just playing with my lyre, humming some lyrics I made up. I didn't even notice the number of people that had formed around me," he defended.

"Hmm. I see." The Millelith spoke, clearly unfazed. "Alright folks, get back to what you were doing. There is no need to start forming a ruckus this early in the morning."

The crowd started to disperse in disappointment, it's not every morning that the people of Liyue get to enjoy the arts during their work hours. Zhongli remained where he stood and watched the guard interrogate the bard.

"And where are your parents? You don't seem to be from around here." The second guard spoke.

"I came here alone." The bard shrugged, "Also, I'm quite older than I look, Mr. Guard, sir."

"Yes, well, we can't have you attracting crowds in the busy harbor. Kids like you always manage to make a mess of things here. Why don't we escort you somewhere less crowded. " The Millelith guard was ready to kick the bard out of Liyue before Zhongli finally intervened.

"The bard is with me. I've been looking around for him. He's an old friend from Mondstadt." The bard looked up at him and tilted his head in registration—obviously perplexed.

"Mr. Zhongli, sir. We highly apologize." The guard released the bard from their hold and saluted the consultant then went on their merry way.

The bard was surprised by how quickly the man in front of him dismissed those guards. He brushed off his clothing and checked if his lyre was okay before looking up once more to speak. A smile finally played on his lips.

"Hello, old friend."

[girlinthepictureframe]

The Briefest Kiss, Part 3 Milex Fanfiction

Part 3

“This is it, then.” Miles took a sip from his bottle of beer as he sat down next to Alex. The night was in full swing. They had just gotten back from the bar where they had celebrated the grand finale of their tour here in Paris, a city that both loved dearly. But while it was nice to know that this was the beginning of a new chapter, closing the last one wasn’t quite so easy.  

Alex leaned back against the sliding glass door as they sat on the floor of Miles’ balcony. “I quite liked being on tour with you. We should do it again some time.” He meant the words, but knew that, for a long while, this would be it. It was time to return to their day jobs. The Shadow Puppets were, after all, just a musical interlude and not the main show. Pressing his shoulder against Miles’, Alex smiled gently. “Hell of a summer, wasn’t it? Loved playing with you. Hated doing the interviews.”

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times,” laughed Miles.  

“Dickens?” Alex chuckled. “Are you becoming a book enthusiast now?”  

“Just trying to get into the right headspace to write.”

“Still drawing blanks?”

Miles shrugged. “Maybe it’s this thing, this tour. Maybe I need a change of scenery to get into it again. Where are you headed after tonight?”

Alex thought about it for a moment. “Back to London for a bit and then, I think, I might return to France. I rather enjoy it here and I, too, need a change of scenery.” He dropped his head onto Miles’ shoulder. “I must admit, I will miss living near you, though.”  

Placing his head on top of Alex’s, Miles agreed. “It was nice knowing you were never more than a few minutes away.”

Closing his eyes, Alex relaxed against Miles and just enjoyed the contact, the feeling of his body warming his own, the soft movements of Miles’ breathing, the familiar scent of fruity shampoo and expensive cologne. “Remember the last time we sat under the sky and watched the stars?”

“New Year’s Day – or night, two and a half years ago,” recalled Miles immediately.  

“You were strumming away on your guitar and I was just sitting there, by the pool, watching the moon. Who would have thought that night would mark the beginning of a years-long adventure?”

“Certainly not me.” Miles grinned at Alex as he placed his forehead against that of his friend and met his eyes. “You were so fascinated by the moon, I doubted you even heard a note of what I was playing.”  

“I heard every note,” said Alex quietly. “And then you joked, my planet or yours. I thought it was the coolest line you ever dropped and you wasted it on me.”

“I’ve never wasted a line on you in my life.”

Rubbing his nose against Miles’ cheek, Alex shifted even closer towards him. Being this close to his friend was intoxicating in a manner that seemed utterly new to Alex and yet, overwhelmingly familiar. It was intimate, it was affectionate, it was just how they were, always in need of contact, but, lately, there was an urgency to it that Alex had the hardest time defining.  

Miles wrapped his arm around Alex, pulling him closer still. “Look at all those tiny stars, Al.” Being this near to one another, there was no need for anything louder than a whisper. “Hanging in the sky like a million tiny Babybels. Think anyone has ever tried to arrange them into a song?”

“What a cheesy question.” Both laughed at that. Alex wanted to quip something else, but he forgot what it was when Miles pressed his lips gently against those his own to give him the most tender of kisses. It wasn’t their first kiss. But, in some way, it was. The first real one. No audience to tease. No one to entertain. Just them and the night. His lips were warm and smooth, like the finest drink, the sweetest treat, and they melted wholly against Alex’s. These weren’t the lips of someone who was jesting. This was the kiss of someone who was kissing. But it didn’t last for long. Their lips touched for none more than five painfully slow beats of Alex’s heart. And then it was all over.  

Miles leaned back, softly smiled, closed his eyes and rested his head back on Alex’s shoulder. “I’ve fantasised about doing that for a long time,” he murmured and promptly fell asleep.  

Alex had no such luck. His head was still stuck in those five beats. And as his hand reached up, touching incredulously the very spot where Miles’ lips had been a mere moment ago, he wondered if he would ever find his way out of those five heartbeats. Because, to him, what had happened in between those five heartbeats had been altogether life-changing.  

So, he sat there, in the dark, wrapped up in Miles’ embrace, trying to make sense of it. And when that didn’t work, when Alex came to the conclusion that there simply was no sense to it, at least none that he could figure out, he started counting the stars instead. Somewhere in the lower six-hundreds, he fell asleep.  

When he woke up, Miles was gone.

[bangchanshehe]

Handsome Disaster (M) pt.19 (final)

When the school bad boy and womanizer Hoseok turns his attention on you it’s hard to ignore. Especially with your best friends being in a relationship and living five doors down from each other.

Hoseok X OC

Word Count: 6.4k

It felt unreal to be standing where you were. You were waiting for this moment now for years and you could feel the nervousness in your knees as you shook. You adjusted your dress as you stood just outside of the entrance to the large stage.

Deep breaths, deep breaths

You looked down at your feet and scanned your body one more time before you would walk out in front of everyone who mattered to you. Your only wish was that you wouldn’t trip on the stage and be an embarrassment on the biggest day of your life this far.

“Y/n” the announcer said loudly, summoning you on stage

You took a breath and followed behind the student who walked the stage just before you. You shook hands with the dean of your department and took your diploma from the president of your university. Cameras and lights flashed at the exact monumental moment when you received your diploma and you smiled brightly as you walked the remainder of the way across the stage.

You had worked hard and cried many nights as you struggled to get yourself to this point. And the moment that you had that diploma in your hands it was like a supreme weight had been lifted off of your shoulders. Now you could stop grinding your teeth at night, now you didn’t have to study anymore, and now you didn’t have to read or study for finals that quite frankly, murdered you.

You walked behind the stage and found your way back to your seat where you would sit until the longer that humanly necessary graduation process was complete. All that you wanted to do was hug Hoseok and receive your promised graduation kiss. You wanted to see Sera and Minhyuk dance and be happy with one another as they celebrated her victory as well.

Honestly at this point you were more excited watching the two of them love each other than anything else. Everyone thought that you and Hoseok would get married before everyone, but it turned out that Minhyuk and Sera were anxious to get married and start their life together and were now expecting a baby. And now that she was large and pregnant everything looked cute on her frame. Her skin glowed and you were busy planning out the details of the baby’s life like the proud aunt that you were.

And Minhyuk… my god he couldn’t keep his hands off of her. Any time that he could have his arms wrapped around her or lips on her’s he was doing it. And they were perfect. They were the living epitome of happiness and you were jealous of them. Very…very jealous.

You had made hints to Hoseok that you had wanted to get married many times, especially after he proposed to you almost four years ago at the mall. You shook your head. Really, you should have declined his proposal and made him do it again in a more romantic way. Or at least at a time when he was actually ready to get married. You huffed to yourself and pouted in your seat looking in their direction.

You giggled as you made eye contact with the boys and they waved their hands excitingly to you with wide grins on their faces.

So far you and Hoseok were just engaged to one another and you were angry with Hoseok for it. Shortly after you had been proposed to you were researching venues, dresses, themes and food. but Hoseok immediately put on the breaks. He said that it wasn’t that he wasn’t ready per say… but he needed more time for things to be perfect.

You rolled your eyes as you relived the whole scenario.

You had countless times tried to use sera’s marriage and pregnancy as an excuse to get married. But, Hoseok was dead set on marrying you the “right way” as he would say. Meaning that you were both out of school at a full-time job and on your feet enough to afford to get married.

You were going almost straight to the workforce after you graduated and Hoseok was successfully running his own gym. He was there most hours of the day and still fought as an amateur on weekends. He loved it and was making almost twice the amount he made fighting underground at the school.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket interrupting your thoughts. You looked down at your dress pocket and plucked your phone out.

Hoseok: congratulations angel, im so proud of you!

You smiled down at your phone and grinned to yourself as you typed out your cheeky reply

You: thank you. We’re one step closer to finally getting married!

The moment that you sent the text you looked up to him in the audience and waited for him to respond to the text. You saw his face light up as the screen on his phone was unlocked and he smiled down at the text, looked up to you and then shook his head.

Hoseok: yea but we still have a long way to go

You rolled your eyes at the message and looked up to him in the audience to make sure that he was watching you as you put your phone away in your pocket as if you were ignoring his response to you.

He dropped his jaw and opened his phone again hurriedly typing out a message to you. You inwardly smiled and looked away from him. Your phone buzzed once….twice… three times and you ignored them all. It felt good to have a little bit of power over Hoseok when it felt like he was stringing you along.

 About an hour later all of the final ceremony acts were done and you were making your way through the large crowds searching for Sera and the boys. You wanted a photo with everyone to commemorate the moment before you all went back to your apartments.

You and Hoseok had taken over his apartment and sera and Minhyuk had both moved into yours. It was a perfect match and you and Hoseok were more than happy to be living together now. You used the extra bedroom now as a study that you and Hoseok use. There were two desks and chairs and a bookshelf of all of your favorite books. The space was a perfect little room for a study but you were dreaming of the changes that you would make to it to create the perfect nursery for future children.

You sighed as you thought about the future and smiled to the guys as soon as you spotted them. Sera and Minhyuk were hanging off of each other and Minhyuk was whispering sweet nothings in her ear making her grin and blush. You smiled to Hoseok who was pouting at you with arms crossed over his chest.

“hey handsome” you said to him poking him in his arm

“why did you ignore my texts?” he pouted

“because I didn’t want you to kill my graduation buzz” you responded and he dropped his arms

For the next fifteen minutes you all took photos in front of the school and with classmates who you met along the way. You smiled and laughed as some past flings asked Hoseok to take photos with them and he uncomfortably obliged.

All four of you piled into your car and headed home to enjoy the rest of your day. Initially you wanted to go out and celebrate but the longer that you thought about it a day at home with Hoseok was really all that was important to you.

As soon as you pulled into the drive way sera and Minhyuk practically ran home with each other, pulling each other’s clothes off. You giggled and watched them as they made it to the apartment and then turned towards your building. Hoseok was waiting for you and smiled when he finally had all of your undivided attention.

“are you ready for your graduation gift?” he asked

“have you ever known me to not be happy about gifts?” you asked with laughter in your voice

“come on then!” he beamed reaching for your hand and pulling you up to the apartment.

He pulled you up the stairs and down to the doorway and stopped, turning around to face you. He looked nervous and he bit his lip as he began to frantically untie his tie. You were shocked and looked around the hall hoping that no one was witnessing him undress himself.

“what are you doing?” you asked him nervous “you can’t wait until we get inside?”

He chuckled at you and smiled “pervert. It’s nothing like that.” He pulled the tie loose and then held it close to your eyes “I’m going to blind fold you so you can’t peek at anything.”

He gently tied it around your face and made sure that it was sturdy so you couldn’t move it around or peek. You could hear him open the door and he led you inside firmly.

The house smelt great as if someone had cooked Italian food and you could smell something fruity. You smiled to yourself as you guessed what was going on. You thought he was going to take you straight to the kitchen but he led you to the bedroom instead.

“yah! You said it wasn’t like that!” you were sarcastic “are you trying to spice things up with the tie?”

“its not!” he laughed “open your eyes!”

You slowly peeled the tie off of your head and you gasped when you saw the items that Hoseok had laid across the bed.

There was a large and small piece of luggage in the corner that looked sleek and expensive. You turned to him with wide eyes and he looked down at you with excitement. You turned back to the bed and gulped. There were three dresses all perfect and in your size. Two pairs of vans that you had been eyeing, heels and a purse that you had been secretly dreaming of. There were two bathing suits that were small and revealing. You rolled your eyes imaging Hoseok picking them out at a department store, finding the most lewd ones. There were shorts and cute shirts. There were two hats and lastly a camera with two plane tickets sitting on the camera bag.

You looked at the information on the tickets and your eyes went wide when you saw that it was for a two week trip to the Bahamas only a short two months from now.

You turned to Hoseok with tears in your eyes, so happy and excited that he would surprise you like this. He pulled you in for a hug and smiled. He rubbed your back and whispered softly

“do you like it?”

You slapped his back lightly “do I like it? I love it Hoseok!” you pulled away from him and turned back to the items. “you didn’t have to get all of this babe! Where were you hiding it?”

“I was hiding it at the gym” he said with a grin “there’s more, follow me” he dragged you over to the office space and opened the door wide so you could both walk in

As soon as you had everything in view you stopped in your tracks. there was a new desk and laptop where your old ones sat. there was a small plant and a bag filled with new stationary for your job. On top of your desk there was a speaker.

You walked over to the desk slowly and assessed everything that was laid out. You admired the sleek new lap top and your new desk. it was overwhelming and you knew that with the price of the electronics alone that everything was expensive.

“h-h-hoseok” you whimpered feeling the tears being brought back to the surface.

He quickly cut off your sobs with a back hug and a kiss to the neck. “I love you so much and im so incredibly excited for you to start your new adventures.”

You turned around in his arms and you kissed him on the lips. “I love you more than you could ever know! Thank you so much baby”

He pat you on the butt and stepped away from you “I know you’re really excited but let’s go eat. Ive been hungry since I cooked for you earlier”

You giggled at his always eager appetite and walked into the kitchen. On your dining table you saw your favorite pasta sitting in the middle of the table with salad, bread sticks and a strawberry cake.  You smiled and hummed at the delicious meal you were ready to have, and took a seat. Hoseok went into the kitchen and uncorked a bottle of wine and joined you at the table with two glasses in his hand.

“Seriously, when did you have the time to do all of this, you left the house not even two hours before I left for the ceremony” you laughed

“Minhyuk, Jooheon and a few other buddies came over and helped me put all of the stuff together while I did the cooking.” He said with a smile on his face.

You could tell that he was proud of doing so well and having successfully surprised you. You reached for his hand over the table and looked him in the eyes.

“I’m seriously the luckiest girl in the world to have someone like you, who genuinely cares for me! I have no idea what I’ve done to deserve you, but I’m so happy that I met you!”

Hoseok lightly squeezed your hand and gave you a soft smile

“I think it’s the other way around angel. Before I met you I was just wandering around and I wasn’t committed to anything in life.” He sighed before he continued “if I’m being completely honest with you, I think I knew from the moment that I saw you that you were the one.”

You looked at him shocked. He had always said that he knew at first sight, but you figured that It was just a cliché thing that all guys said

“when I first saw you I just wanted to know your name. but at that point I was such a loser that the only game I knew what hooking up and I thought that, that was all I needed to try on you. But you didn’t fall over me like other girls did.” He pulled his hand away now and sat in his seat looking at your with a reminiscent smile “and when you never fell for it, I knew that if I really wanted to get to know you that I would have to try a different approach. But with you I didn’t have to put on airs or try to be more than what I was. With you I was always calm and relaxed and speaking to you always felt to easy to do.”

“but more than anything else, you didn’t try to impress me either. The whole time you were always one hundred percent yourself and it was so refreshing to find a girl that was actually real. And the night that we went out to eat with each other I couldn’t stop thinking about you and how much I wanted to kiss you. How much I wanted to hold your hand. Or how much I really wanted to genuinely make love to you”

You rolled your eyes at his last confession and smiled at him

“I’m serious! I never had intention of just hooking up with you. I genuinely wanted to make you feel loved. To feel my love!” he finished

You were baffled by his confession and you had no idea how to respond. The only thing you could do was show him how he made you feel. You got out of your chair and walked over to his side of the table and straddled his lap. He gave you a smirk and leaned back into his chair to make room for the both of you.

You wound your fingers in his hair and gave him a long kiss. He eventually wrapped his arms around your back and pressed your body into his as much as he could and deepened the kiss with you. When you pulled away for air he smiled up at you and tucked some stray hairs behind your ear.

“baby as much as I would love to tear that dress away from your body I really do think I need to eat first.”

You moaned in defiance and wiggled in his lap a bit like a kid, and he chuckled at your reluctance. You kissed him once more on the lips and then got up out of his lap and made way to your chair.

As soon as you were out of his lap you hear his fork collect noodles off of his plate, and you smiled to yourself. You took your seat and had a sip of your wine as you watched him enjoy his food. Hoseok moaned and slurped his noodles, letting you know that he approved of his own cooking and you decided to try it for yourself.

“not to be nosy but… how did you get the money to buy all of that stuff hoseok? I know it had to have cost a fortune!” you asked in awe and confusion

He put down his fork and looked up at you as he chewed his food as if he was gauging what he was going to say to you. “Ever since I proposed to you your freshman year I’ve been saving up my money for moments like this, when I can spoil you and we can afford to have nice things and not struggle” he answered

It sounded like a good answer but you were still skeptical “okay but still were talking about thousands of dollars hoseok!” you exclaimed

Hoseok looked up at you through his lashes and smirked “babe do you know how much I made in the fight ring and how much I make with the gym?” he said

You rolled your eyes and bobbed your head all too aware of how much money he made. Hoseok wasn’t materialistic or flashy but he definitely made you aware that the two of you would be taken care of for the rest of your lives.

“eat your food before it gets cold” hoseok said with a grin, gesturing to your plate with his fork.

You grunted in defeat and finally dug into your plate. The pasta that hoseok made was really good and you gave him a thumbs up which he proudly accepted. Hoseok was an amazing cook when he wanted to be but if he had his way he would probably just feed you ramen for the rest of your life.

You finished your plate and drank your glass of wine and collected your plates to take them to the kitchen sink. You poured yourself another glass of wine at the counter and took a healthy sip before you started to scrub and wash your dishes. You were humming a song to yourself  and didn’t notice Hoseok come in shortly after you. He put his plates down in the sink and wrapped his arms around you tightly. He put his chin on your shoulder and closed his eyes as he listened to your humming. you finished doing the rest of the dishes and turned around to face him.

He smiled down at you at pulled your hips towards his own. “now where were we?” he asked with a grin

You giggled and stood up on your toes to give him a soft kiss. You pulled away and sank down on your feet, but Hoseok chased you down and bent over to give you another kiss. This time he wound a hand in your hair and held the back of your neck with the other. He continued to deepen the kiss and you moaned tasting the wine on tongue as he tangled it with yours.

He pulled away from you and quickly squat down and picked you up throwing you over his shoulder. You squealed in surprise and he chuckled darkly as he carried you out of the kitchen and to the bedroom. He put you down on your feet by the edge of the bed and hurriedly pushed all of the things he bought you to one side.

As you watched him pushed everything away you quickly unzipped your dress and let it drop to the floor around your ankles.  At the sound of the fabric hitting the floor Hoseok turned around to take a peek at your body.

“that dress looked amazing on you baby, but the way that you look out of it…. Holy fuck”

He quickly crossed the space between the two of you and kissed you on your lips. But this time it was no longer soft or sweet. Now his kisses were hot and needy. You kissed him back and fought with your tongues to earn dominance and he pushed you back on the bed.

Your body collided with the mattress and you watched with wide eyes as he slowly undid all of this shirts buttons. He was being a tease and you loved watching him strip just for you, but you were starting to get impatient. You sat up and you pulled his belt out of the buckle and tugged it loose from his pants. He chuckled and watched your hands make quick work. You unbuttoned his pants and quickly pulled them down to his ankles.

“woah, woah… settle down angel. We have all night” he laughed

“no baby I need you” you groaned.

Hoseok looked down at you darkly and leaned in to kiss you. He licked into your mouth and nipped at your lips. He grabbed your chin and turned your head to the side to give him access to your neck. He sucked, bit and licked you, marking you as his.

You didn’t notice him take off his boxers, but he cupped your pussy and teased your clothed clit before pulling your panties to the side and slowly filling you up with his rock hard cock.

You groaned at the feeling of him filling you up and rubbing against your slick walls. It was like an itch that needed scratching that only Hoseok could reach. You arched your back as soon as he was completely inside of you and you wrapped your legs around his waist. Hoseok looked down at your body for a moment and leaned forward, holding his weight up with his arms so he could kiss you on the lips.

You opened up your mouth for him and as he flicked his tongue over yours as he rose and dropped his hips making his cock fall into your soaking pussy with enough pressure and force to make your eyes roll back. You gasped and Hoseok started to make a pace for himself and kissed all over your face.

“god damn it… I love you so much” hoseok grunted out

You ran your hands over the expanse of hoseok’s toned back and planted them in the base of his hairline. You leaned up and met hoseok for a long kiss, stealing both of your breath away.

“I love you too” you whispered to him

He sat back on his haunches and snapped his hips into yours but quickly became tired of the fabric of your panties and pulled out of you so he could quickly pull them down your legs and on the floor. He admired your body for a moment and licked his lips as he looked down at your wet, glistening lips and held his hand out to you, signaling you to get up. When you followed through he put his hand on your hip and you flipped over on your hands and knees.

When you were situated you stuck your ass out farther than usual and shook it side to side, teasing him. He smiled down at you and ran his hand down your back but lifted it to land a firm slap on your behind, making you yelp and lose some posture. He chuckled at you and pulled you back to his erection so he could be planted all the way inside of you. He stilled for a moment and held onto your hips with a firm grip before he rammed his cock inside of you at a pace that made you lurch forward and grab the sheets for support.

“fuck!” you yelled and hoseok grunted in response

You closed your eyes, surrendering your sense so you could focus on the feeling of hoseok inside of you and dropped your chest to the mattress. Hoseok watched himself as he entered inside of you and pulled out repeatedly loving the feeling of sex with you more than anything else in this world. He didn’t have words to describe the actual sensation, but sex with you was more than just sex.  And this view of you bent over and taking his cock like a champ was his favorite. He loved seeing how your round ass bounced each time that his hips met yours, and the sound of your voice, screwed up and breathy did more things to him than he would like to mention.

He snapped his hips into you and held his breath, trying to steady himself as he could feel the tension in his body begin to rise. He was close and he knew that he was going to be spent pretty soon. But when your voice caught and you pushed your ass back into him, meeting every thrust with force as your orgasm rocked through your body making your pussy milk and convulse on his cock it was game over.

He let out a sting of grunts and let out a deep breath and his hips slowed down and he pumped all of his load inside of you. He stayed still as he came down from his high and didn’t pull out until he was done twitching and your writhing in pleasure subsided.

He crashed down in bed with you, catching your breath and mindlessly kissing each other and rubbing your hands up and down the expanse of each other’s body. In this moment Hoseok seemed to be in actual bliss, tired and glowing with his own sweat. He had a soft smile on his face but his eyes were lit up and glistening with love.

You smiled up at him and he reached out to place his hand in your hair. He brushed his fingers through your tousled strands and detangled them

“sorry… I made your pretty hair messy” he said with a smile but some sadness in his voice

You chuckled at his apology and shrugged your shoulders “Its okay, it was worth it”

He smiled wider and the way the light caught in his eyes made you stop breathing for a moment. You watched him for a moment as he closed his eyes and willed his body to calm and cool down. But you let your mind race as you thought about how lucky and in love you were.

To be honest you were concerned that your relationship with hoseok would only be temporary. There was a small doubt in your mind that made you wonder if hoseok would eventually get bored and go back to his old habbits and kick you to the curb, but after the first year with him things didn’t die down. Instead they became more exciting and you knew that you two were meant for each other. But had you asked yourself five years ago when you thought you would meet the love of your life you never would have expected that it would have been so soon or this extreme.

After a moment of your silent thoughts you sat up and wrapped a blanket around your body and made your way into the kitchen to get yourself a drink. You grabbed a cup from the cuppoard and filled it half way with tap water. Silently you took sips and leaned against the countertops.

After a few moments hoseok followed you in with boxers on and you offer what was left of your water to him. He accepted it and quickly chugged the remainder of the glass, before sitting it on the counter next to where you were standing.

“I have a confession to make” he said shyly

You looked up at him and gave him a curious glare “is it a good thing or a bad thing?” you aske him “do I want to know?”

He laughed and held his hands up in surrender “I promise it’s a good- no and amazing thing and I think that you’re going to love it” he said cryptically

“what do you mean “it”?” you asked your eyes getting smaller and smaller the more confused you became

“well…” he started and scratched the back of his neck with a free hand “I kind of have one more surprise for you” he said with a nervous chuckle in his voice

Your eyes went wide with shock and you looked at him now like he was completely crazy “what?!” you almost yelled “hoseok, no!” you began to protest thinking about what outlandish thing it was that was waiting for you now

“I think your going to want to take a look before you start protesting angel!” he said laughing at you hysterically now. He took your hand and pulled you back through the kitchen “come on!”

You followed him with some resistance scared as to what you would see and furrowed your eyebrow as he pulled you back into the office and you unconsciously looked around for anything that you might have missed. But when you didn’t see anything different you looked up at him in confusion

“okay…shit” he said now seemingly nervous “I’m-… I want to-… no”  he battled with himself and his words for a moment and then finally settled “why don’t you go open the closet?” he suggested

Your heart skipped a beat and you were now very concerned with what had hoseok so tripped up. You looked over to the closet, surveying its features and then back up at him with concern. “what’s in the closet?” you whispered concerned more than curious now

He giggled and bumped his shoulder into yours to shy to say “just go open it!”

“hoseok if something jumps out at me im going to beat you up!” you threatened with only made him laugh harder

You turned your head and focused back on the closet door. You took the shaky steps to stand in front of it and you flipped the light on before reaching for the handle. You turned the door knob and took a shaky breath before you opened the door and froze….

“hoseok-“ you said almost instantly beginning to tear up

You couldn’t believe what you were seeing in front of you but you knew that it was something that hoseok had to be working on for months if not years. The light from the hall closet cascaded beams of silver light down and across a beautiful white gown and a matching black tuxedo. There were bride and grooms shoes to match. Your side of the closet had jewelry, designer makeup and perfume while hoseok’s side had a new set of rings and the cologne that you loved him to wear.  

“Hoseok!” you exclaimed through your tears

He came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist and settled his head against your shoulder. “I know that you’ve been waiting for me to finally get married. And I know that I told you that I wanted to wait until we both had careers. But, lately the idea of finally doing it made me excited and hopeful that we could do it sooner rather than later”

You turned in his arms and kissed him on the lips firmly, putting every ounce of your love and passion into it. When he pulled away from you and you caught your breath you turned back to the closet and wiped the tears that spilled from your eyes.

You walked into the closet and ran your hands over the dress admiring its features and noticing that hoseok had it tailored and sized correctly. The shoes to match were a beautiful white pump with jewels that made them shine like treasure.  You couldn’t be more at peace with a decision and you turned to look at hoseok’s side. His tux was sharp and clean, made to look sleek and handsome. You admired his shoes but stopped when you noticed the new rings that hoseok set aside. You picked up the opened box and surveyed the rings and their shapes. They looked exactly like the ones that you had but only bigger and shinier.

“yours has a little something engraved in it” he whispered

You slowly lifted the ring out of its cradle and looked at the delicate tracing of the word ‘angel’ written inside. You were curious to see if hoseok also had anything engraved into his ring and lifted it out carefully to see for yourself. Inside it had multiple strings of numbers etched and you smiled as you noticed the first strand of numbers. It was the day that you two became a couple for the first time, the second was the day that you became a couple again and the last number you couldn’t decipher but if it was a date then it was almost two months from now.

You held up the ring and pointed it at him “what’s 061319?” you asked him and he smiled up at you softly

“well hopefully it’s the day that you and I will finally get married” he said confidently

You looked back up at him with shook and panic in your eyes “hoseok…that’s less than two months away!” you said with horror

He nodded his head and your mind went racing due to his lack of understanding. No one could plan a whole wedding in two months and have it exactly the way that they’ve always dreamed it to be. Wedding planning took a year if not years to do successfully.

“how am I going to plan it?” you asked outloud mostly to yourself but hoseok definitely heard your statement

“Sera has been a major help and actually helped me book the perfect church, food and plan the reception” hoseok confessed

“and the dress?” you asked him and he smiled up at you

“She told me what style you liked but I picked it out myself. I knew that it was going to be the one when I saw it.” He said with a sappy grin

You smiled up at him in amazement and laughed hysterically “im getting married!” you almost yelled “in less than two months!” you giggled

“I know its happening super fast, but I wanted this to be relaxing and pleasurable for you.” He spoke softly “I wanted it to be magical and everything that you hoped for”  he wrapped himself around you once more and whispered in your ears “are you happy?”

You closed your eyes and leaned your head back against his shoulder “im more than happy hoseok”

You stood there for a moment and allowed for the moment to really sink in before you looked back up at everything that was in front of you. You had the dress and man of your dreams, you had the job that you always wanted and financially you were way better off than you had ever imagined that you would be. You sighed a heavy sigh of relief and smiled at all that hoseok had prepared.

You always wanted to end up in a fair tale love but realized that this love was way more desirable than any of that magical crap. With hoseok you were safe and he took care of you in ways that you couldn’t begin to care for him.

Hoseok turned his head and placed a soft kiss on your forehead and you leaned into its warmth.

“I love you so… so much” you whispered

“I love you too” he said back equally as soft

“should we tell minhyuk and sera the good news?” he suggested and you giggled

“why they already helped you plan it, so they know!” you said with a laugh in your voice

“but they don’t know that you said yes” hoseok rebutted and then his brows shifted “wait… you haven’t technically said yes yet”

You raised your brows and looked around the room as if you were genuinely thinking about if you wanted to actually marry him or not.  You sucked in a large breath and then looked him in the eyes with a skeptical look

“I don’t know…. I think I saw someone kind of cute at the graduation ceremony” you said with a sarcastic voice

Hoseok looked at you with a smile and shock on his face “yah!” he yelled

You pulled away from him and put your hands up in the air to shrug. Hoseok laughed at you and pointed a finger at you in an accusatory way and you laughed before bolting out of the door.

Hoseok realized what you were doing and quickly chased after you pulling at your blanket and exposing your naked form to him. When he had finally got close enough to you he smiled at you widely and swept you up off of your feet bridal style. You yelped and laughed at how dramatic he was being while he looked down at you with a look of sarcastic betrayal in his eyes.

“If you don’t agree to marry me then I’ll become a monk!” he threatened

You laughed at his ridiculous threat and shook your head “hoseok there is no other person in this world I would rather marry than you” you giggled

His hurt look fell and his smiled radiated and beamed on his face making your heart beat pick up in your chest. he kissed you on the lips quickly and then ran with you in his arms towards the bed room once again.

No amount of drama, ridicule or anger could ever subside these feelings that you have for him now. And you would bet everything that hoseok felt the same way about you. Because no matter what fight or argument the two of you would ever be in, moments like these would forever wipe away all of the sadness and pain. Forever and ever… just a handsome disaster and his angel.

[alj4890]

Fluffy Prompt

(Thomas x Amanda) with the prompt But I want to hear you sing requested by @krsnlove  

(Thomas x Amanda) taken from the storyline of And Then I Met You

A/N This snowballed a little, LOL, like most things for me. Their chosen songs are linked to the actual one.

 @alleksa16 @penguininapinktuxedo @blackcoffee85 @stopforamoment @hopefulmoonobject  @krsnlove @littleblossom357   @annekebbphotography  @gibbles82  @bella-ca @hopelessromantic1352. @pixieferry 

Special Request 

Nadia plopped down on the couch beside Maxwell and kissed him. He was surprised and happily pulled her closer.

"I have come to a decision for my birthday." She announced.

"What would you like to do angel of mine?" He asked as he kissed her cheek.

"We invite our friends and go to a karaoke bar! Kai and I would drag Damien to one in New York and force him to sing Elvis songs. Then we made him listen to us sing every cheesy pop song we could think of. It was always fun." Her dark eyes twinkled with excitement. "What do you think?"

"Sounds perfect. I have a need to croon ballads to you." He smiled as he received a kiss for that.

"Yay! I will let everyone know." She bounced off to set everything up.

A week later...

"Wow. Nice private room." Drake went behind the small bar and set a few glasses on the counter "What can I get everyone?"

Nadia and Maxwell yelled out for something fruity while Thomas and Liam asked for scotch. Riley and Olivia requested wine. Drake looked at Amanda and waited. She shrugged and helped him with the drinks.

"What can I get you Lady Hunt?" He poured two fingers of whiskey and waited on her to pick her poison.

"Amaretto sour." She finally said. Drake worked his magic and handed it to her.

Nadia smiled when they joined them. "Who is singing first and what song?"

Liam and Riley shared a grin and picked a duet. "Summer Lovin'" Liam glared at Drake snorting and laughing.

Nadia nodded her approval. "What about you, stud muffin?"

Maxwell grinned "Hungry Eyes".

She sighed happily "How do you always manage to become even more perfect?"

He shrugged bashfully and relaxed back in his seat. Nadia turned expectantly to Drake and Olivia.

"I will sing, NO." Olivia said with a smirk. She looked at Drake who rolled his eyes and draped his arm around her. "All the Right Problems for me."

Nadia softly squealed, loving all the songs chosen so far. She looked at Thomas and Amanda. Thomas sighed as he sipped his drink. "Uptown Girl."

Amanda's eyes widened. "I love that song."

He leaned closer to her. "I suspect that's why I chose it." He pressed a kiss to her forehead and asked her what she was singing.

Amanda, Drake, Liam, and, Maxwell all froze. She took a big swallow of her drink and grimaced. "I...I um don't sing."

Thomas' brow furrowed. How had he missed this? "Don't sing? Why not?"

She squirmed and avoided everyone staring. Drake answered for her. "Because she does not condone torture."

"What?" Thomas turned back to his wife. "I don't understand."

"Amanda has a voice that brings tears to one's eyes." Maxwell explained.

Her cheeks turned dark at the subtle insults. She downed her tart drink and got up, glaring at her so called friends. She went to the bar and began mixing a refill.

As they tried to get Thomas to figure out on his own why she wouldn't sing, she finally lost her patience and slammed her hand on the counter.

They all jumped and looked at her in shock. Amanda rarely lost her temper to that degree. Her hand stung, only adding to the bitterness in her tone. "I have a horrible singing voice." She reached for the ice and realized it was empty. She yanked the bucket off the shelf and left the private room.

"Jerks." She muttered while walking past the crowd of people. "She doesn't condone torture." Amanda mocked in a deep, dumb voice. "So happy they embarassed me in front of the only person I least wanted to find out."

"You shouldn't be embarrassed."

She let out a slight scream while clutching her chest. "Thomas! Why do you always do that?"

"What?" He asked, perplexed.

"Walk up quietly behind me! I'm going to die from heart failure within the next year at the rate you are going." She approached the bar and asked for more ice. She felt his arms slip around her and sighed.

Thomas kissed her temple before bending his head near her ear. "I think you should pick a song."

Amanda took the ice bucket and shook her head. "I'm good being the audience." She wrapped her arm around his waist and gave a quick squeeze while changing the subject. "I expect to be the girl in your song." Her teasing tone made his lips quirk, but he was not about to be deterred.

"I want you to pick a song you love." He said before they reached the private room.

"You're going to sing two songs for me?"

He shook his head. "I want you to sing it."

"Thomas, I promise I can have just as much fun, even more so, by not singing." They stepped back inside and she went back to the bar.

Thomas stood on the other side and leaned against it. "But I want to hear you sing."

"Hunt! Are you trying to make our ears bleed?" Drake let out a painful gasp from Olivia elbowing him in the stomach.

Amanda paled when she realized Thomas wasn't going to drop this. "I honestly don't mind not singing. I prefer it. I was only irritated with the insults." She forced her lips into a teasing smile. "I'm not sure there is a legal term for divorce over hearing one's spouse sing."

"It falls under cruel and unusual punishment." Maxwell sucked in his breath from the punch Nadia laid on his bicep. Her dark eyes flashed a warning at his attempt at being helpful.

"Tonight was meant for all of us to have fun singing." She stated firmly. Her gaze softened when she looked at Amanda. "I want you to have fun too."

"I am having fun!" Amanda nearly wailed. Dear Lord, when had this night suddenly become about her insecurities?

Thomas pulled her over to pick a song. Amanda shook her head. "Please don't make me do this." She downed her drink and hurried away to make another.

His frown was fierce as he looked at Maxwell and Drake. This had to be their fault. They avoided eye contact.

Liam tried to ease the tension by kicking the night off with his and Riley's duet. Amanda relaxed with her fifth drink and the fact that nobody had brought up her singing. She fiddled with the tablet at the table and ordered special desserts to be brought in for Nadia and her unending sweet obsession.

She laughed and cheered with the others with each song performed. She was highly impressed with Thomas and his vocal range and stood clapping for Nadia's rendition of I Knew You Were Trouble.

She rested her head against the padded seat and closed her eyes while everyone talked around her. More songs were performed before couples began to leave. She opened her eyes and realized she and Thomas were the only ones left in the room.

"I didn't mean to fall asleep." She covered her mouth when another yawn escaped. "I hope Nadia's feelings weren't hurt."

"She was fine." He pulled her close to him. "Now...pick a song."

"What? But it's over. I..." Her cheeks flooded with color. "I am not going to purposely show you something I am bad at!"

"I don't care." He said softly. "I only care about you not worrying and enjoying yourself." His lips briefly touched hers. "I already love hearing your voice when you talk to me. It is one of my favorite sounds on earth."

"Thomas." She sighed. "Dammit." Amanda walked over and picked a song. Anything to end this night. "This is the one and only time I do this." She told him.

He nodded and relaxed in the shadows.

Amanda briefly closed her eyes and started to sing the old torch song, Love, You Didn't Do Right by Me. She tried to pretend she was alone and actually sounded like Rosemary Clooney. No one could suspend disbelief to that degree.

She tried to keep her already husky voice soft and believed she might actually not sound completely cringe worthy. Thankfully the song was short. When she finished the last line and the music ended she quickly put the microphone down.

"Can we go now?" Amanda avoided looking directly at Thomas and walked back to where they were sitting to grab her jacket and purse. His hand grasped her wrist and tugged her into his lap.

She refused to look into his eyes. She knew they would either be filled with humor or pity. Possibly a combination of the two. She could not stand to see that from him.

Thomas gently caressed her cheek while his lips captured hers. "I believe your voice was meant for smoke filled bars of the 40's and 50's, making men realize some idiot carelessly threw away the perfect woman." He kissed her again, passion sizzling between them.

Her eyes were wide in shock over his compliment. It must be love. She knew it could be blind. Could it be deaf too?

[queeniewritesce]

Shall We Dance 5/?

The ride to his house in South End had been a quiet one. Chris decided to not tempt faith and left the car parked in the streets near the club, hailing a cab to get them home. They held hands for the duration of the ten-minute ride, his thumb caressing the inside of her wrist, feeling the scars for the first time. That puzzled and worried him, and he made a mental note to inquire about them later.

A flash of ginger lightning came barely through the corridor when the condo door opened, barking and jumping excitedly.

“Dodger! Sit boy, where are your manners?” Dodger sat in front of Chris while he put away their coats and shoes, thumping his tail loudly. “Can you say hi to my friend Lucy?”

A high bark was followed by Dodger giving his right paw to Lucy, waiting for her to shake it, Chris saying good boy.

“Hi Dodger, hi! What a beautiful boy!” She crouched in front of him, taking his paw in her hand, shaking it lightly before moving on to scratch his head. “Who’s a good boy, uh, who’s a good boy to his daddy? You’re a good boy, yes you are!”

He couldn’t help but smile big while Lucy petted Dodger, the dog’s head falling to the side, enjoying every scratch. He crouched next to her and gave him a few firm rubs, the dog licking his face. “Oh man, come on!” he sputtered, laughing along with Lucy. “Come you big lug, let me get you a treat.”

Dodger perked up at the word, running to the kitchen area and sitting near one of the cabinets.

“He’s amazing Chris, what a smart dog.” She followed him through the living room to the open concept kitchen, sitting on one of the high bar stools while he rummaged inside the cabinet, getting a couple of fruity dog biscuits.

“I adopted him while I was filming, he’s been with me for two months now. His name was Benny but he didn’t look like a Benny to me, you know?” he explained while closing the cabinet door. He then went to the fridge and grabbed two water bottles and handing one to Lucy.

“Thanks. Oliver and Company, right? It suits him, he does look like a Dodger.” She took a long drink and his eyes couldn’t look away from her long neck while she swallowed. His paints tightened, the desire to have once again being stocked.

He shook his head a little. He was getting hard by watching her drink water, get a grip man. “I’m impressed, not many people know that.”

“Not many people are Disney aficionados, are they?” She took another drink, smiling at him and an audible growling ‘mine’ sounded inside his head.

‘Ok Christopher, time to speed things up.’ Chris made Dodger follow him to the other side of the kitchen and into the laundry area. “You’re gonna hang out here for a while, ok boy? Come on, get in your bed. Good boy. Here are two treats for ya’.”

He patted the dog again and closed the laundry room door.

“I feel bad for making him stay away from you,” Lucy said while he washed his hands, rubbing one on his face to get rid of the dog slobber on his cheek. Plucking a napkin from the counter, he dried his face and walk around the big island to stand in front of her.

“He has a bed in almost every room of this house, but he stays in the laundry when I’m out for the day, he’ll be fine, I promise.” With one hand in each of her knees, Chris parted her legs and got closer, the high stool making it so their mouths were at the same height. He ghosted his lips over hers, never really touching them, his nose grazing her cheeks. “Enough about my dog for now.”

Eyes locked together, his hands massaged her jeans-covered thighs while traveling upwards, dragging her dress sweater with them, kissing her at the same moment his hands touched the skin of her waist for the first time.

Chris eased his way into her mouth, kissing her upper lips and her lower lips. She tasted fresh, like the water she had just drunk with hints of the red wine from earlier in the day still lingering. Her arms embraced his shoulders, one hand taking a handful of hair while the other holds him by the neck, needing him as close as possible. His tongue gently caressed hers, the same fluid movements of his hands discovering her supple skin, making her moan at the contact, the sound a direct connection to his rapidly hardening cock.

“So fucking soft…” he murmured against her mouth, taking a deep breath filled with her. He laid open-mouthed kisses to her chin and neck, teeth scraping gently the hollow of her throat, applying pressure he knew would leave a mark. A hand skimmed over her waist, thumb circling the belly button and he felt her shivering, pushing her body closer to him.

“I want you, Chris,” she moaned his name, a sweet sound that only spurred him on and made him kiss her again. Small hands grazed his beard on their way down, fingernails scraping over his chest and coming to a rest near the hem of his t-shirt to lift it. “Need you.”

“I’ve got you, babe,” he stopped kissing her just long enough to get the fabric over his head, groaning when her wet lips made contact with the hardness of his chest, eager hands exploring the hair on his low abdomen before rubbing his length, making it difficult to concentrate. He wanted her in his bed. “Let’s move this upstairs.”

They stumbled inside the bedroom and Chris wasted no time pressing Lucy against the wall, kissing her hard and hitching one of her legs over his waist, rocking against her core, loving the sounds and whimpers her mouth made. She discarded her sweater between trusts and his hands quickened to coop the breasts, kneading the exposed flesh.

Chris noticed the branches circling her right arm, shades of greys and reds moving all the way from her elbow to her shoulder, continuing down her back.  He wanted to ask about them, but her whimper brought his attention back to the task at hand. Later, he thought.

“Don’t stop baby,” her whispering turned to moans when his mouth closed over a bra covered nipple. Lucy ground on his tight, throwing her head back and pushing her chest into his hands, needing more. Her lace bra hit the floor somewhere and she sang when he pushed her breasts together, dropping kisses all over, alternating between left and right, fingers and mouth working in tandem to bring her pleasure, swirling his tongue around a tight peak while pinching the other. “Fuck Chris.”

Her jeans were opened and lowered so fast Chris was actually proud of himself. He crouched to help her out of her socks and a stubborn pant leg and was taken aback by the sight of her; he thought she was beautiful before, but Lucy’s body was made to entice him, long legs, round thighs, lavish ass.

“Fucking gorgeous,” he touched every inch of her body on his way up, kissing a path from her knees to her mound, tongue darting out to taste her, hands firmly planted on her ass cheeks. He licked her through her soaked panties, making her cry and grab his hair. “You smell amazing baby, can I have a taste?” He felt giddy, hands hastening to lower her underwear, kissing the inside of her thighs, his beard tickling her folds, urging one of her legs over his shoulder.

His tongue was relentless, probing and tasting everywhere it could reach, his mouth tracing a path from her pussy to her clit and back again. He followed her moans and sighs, testing how she reacted to each pass over her sensitive lips till he found a cadence that had her bucking against him, hands on his hair almost too tight.

“Please… oh Chris, please, more,” her head lulled to the side, eyes glazed over.

“I’ve got you, Lucy, I’m right here baby.” Two fingers circled her entrance, coating themselves in her slickness and he closed his lips over her clit at the same time he entered her, establishing a hard and fast rhythm.

Her moans were loud, cursing and pleading for more, Chris could feel her tightening against his fingers, almost ready to lose control.

“That’s it, baby, cum for me, show me how beautiful you are when you peak,” his fingers curled and brushed against her walls, mouth firmly attached to her bud.

“Chris,” her whole body shook and contracted, a deep wail reaching his ears when she came, “God, Chris.”

He lowered her leg from his shoulder and rose up, meeting her hooded eyes, a large smile on her face.

“You’re quite good at that Chris,” a shaking palm cupped his cheek, her thumb glossing over his shining lips before bringing his head down, kissing and sucking on his tongue, moaning at the taste of herself on his mouth.

“I had quite the audience, didn't want to disappoint.” He moved them to the edge of the bed, Lucy sitting when her knees hit the edge of the high bed.

“Oh baby, you might be nominated for that performance alone.” She reached for his tented boxers, stroking him and planting kisses around his navel while she lowered the garment. Her hands fisted the base, stroking upwards with a firm hand, twisting her fingers on their way down. She repeated the movements a few times, her mouth getting closer with each stroke. He felt hot and almost bowled over when her lips kissed the crown of his cock.

“FUCK.”

She giggled right before taking him into her mouth and the vibrations made him close his eyes, fisting handfuls of fiery ringlets. Her mouth was ruthless, enveloping him a bit more with each downward stroke, her tongue following the thick vein on the underside on her way up. He wouldn't last much longer, her mouth played him like a talented musician and although he would love to let her finish her concert, he needed to be inside her.

His hands tugged at her hair, making her look up at him and Chris almost came at the sight.

“You’re doing amazing baby, but this whole day has been a fucking long foreplay, I need to fuck you before I explode.” He explained when he saw her confused face. He helped her lay in the middle of his king bed, getting a condom from the bedside table before joining her.

Chris’ eyes roamed over her body while he rolled the latex over him, falling just a bit harder for the woman resting there, elbows propping her upper body, hair fawned around her shoulders, lustful eyeing him. She was exquisite, different from any other he’d had before.

“Do you know how beautiful you are?” he crawled over, hands clasping her neck when his mouth locked over hers, bodies molding together. “How hot you make me feel, how much I wanna sink my hard cock into that tight channel of yours?”

A moan reverberated under him, her arms cycling around his shoulder and grabbing his ass, trying to pull him closer.

“Please…”

“Please what baby?” he rubbed against her folds, the tip of his cock pressing on her entrance, the pad of his thumb pressing down on her clit. He lavished kisses at her neck and collarbone, licking a trail to her ear, nipping at her earlobe.  “I can make you feel so, so good baby, but you’ll have to ask for it.”

“Please fuck me, Chris. Please, plea…” she cries when he enters her hard and fast, walls clamping down around him as he pauses, waiting for her to adjust to his size.

He caresses her face, kissing her cheeks, nose and finally her mouth, his tongue stroking hers at the same pace of his thrusts. Legs over his waist, ankles joined and heels pressing on his ass, the new angle making him slide deeper till he’s fully sheathed into her.

“Fuck, you feel amazing, baby.” He picks a rigorous pace, elbows around her head, the bed rocking, headboard hitting the wall with every forward motion. Groans and words fall from his mouth, the pleasure rolling around him in waves, his whole body heating up. He kisses her neck, licks her shoulder, the saltiness of her skin spurring him on.

“Chris… I need your cock baby, fuck me good.” Swollen lips kiss him, biting and pulling on him, dragging her teeth on his jaw to bite him on the neck, right where his beard turns to a stubble he didn’t shave that morning.

He feels the bite of her fingernails digging into his back, adding yet another layer to the sensations bubbling up. It’s gonna leave a mark and the thought of being branded by her makes him slam harder into her. “You look like a goddess, taking my cock, squeezing me like that. So good baby.”

His words spin her into a frenzy, hips rolling against his seeking friction, needing more, whimpers giving away to deep moans and cries. “God Chris, yes, harder baby, I want you so much. Please.” Her fingers curls around his hair, bringing him closer still and she shivers when his hard chest rubs against her taut nipples.

His thrusts turn brutal, each one crashing into her a bit more forceful, demanding her body to answer. She’s panting hard, grabbing anywhere her hands can reach, her whole body growing taut before she comes with a cry, shaking all over, her walls contracting around him.

“Chris…”

He’s there as well, his head tucked next to hers, eyes closed. His thrusts become erratic, shallow and deep, never truly leaving the warmth around him, his length swelling when he comes inside her shouting her name, a hoarse moan filling the bedroom.

She tenderly kisses his wet temple and he feels her fingers combing his hair before lazily traveling across his back, a content sigh on her lips.

“Hi.” Chris kisses her shoulder and can’t help but smile when he feels her shiver. He peppers her face with kisses and she giggles happily and he thinks he would slay a dragon just to hear that sound again.

“Hi.” She traces the lines of his face when their rest their foreheads together. “You have a beautiful nose.”

What in the world? This woman was certified the most strange and amazing one he’d ever met and he couldn’t help but laugh. “What?”

She laughs with him and suddenly they are lost to a fit a giggles, making him roll over from her and into his back, hand grabbing his chest.

“I’m sorry, I have no idea why I just said that.” She covers her eyes with an arm, still laughing. “One could say you... fucked my brains out.”

They are laughing again and Chris couldn’t remember when was the last time he laughed right after sex. People nowadays were guarded, never showing their hands even when they got naked together. Her carefree attitude and spontaneity were not something he was used to. He could get used to that very fast.

“You’re one crazy lady.” He pecks her on the cheek before heading to the bathroom, coming back a few minutes later. “I’m gonna let Dodger out, is it alright if he sleeps here? He has a bed in the corner, but uh, he usually ends up my bed with me.”

“It’s his house Chris, of course, he can sleep on his own bed.” She moves to the bathroom and he stops at the door, watching her naked backside swaying as she walks.

The last woman he brought home wasn’t so happy when the large dog jumped on the bed, demanding Chris had the dog removed. That relationship was doomed from the start and that attitude just made it end much faster. Again, what was he thinking? Shaking his head, he goes downstairs.

“Hey boy.” Chris pats the dog on the head. “Listen, Dodge, I have company tonight, so maybe you might wanna stick to your own bed alright? She’s a great girl though, she really liked you earlier, didn’t she? Yeah, she liked you, yeah she did.” He kisses the pooch snout, making the dog shake his head. “Yeah, you liked her too, I know you like them pretty ladies who give you head scratches. You know what Dodge, I really like her too.”

They make their way to Chris’ bedroom, turning off lights, Dodger carrying his stuffed lion with him.

Lucy’s getting under the covers when they arrive and Chris is happy to see she’s still naked.

“Bit of neat freak, aren’t you?” he asks when he sees both their clothes neatly folded and sitting on the upholstery chair near the window.

“Yep.” She shrugs unapologetically. “It’s something simple that I can control, grounds my wandering mind.”

“Sounds like something my therapist would say.” He tries to keep his voice neutral, he enjoys his time with his own therapist, but he knows not everyone feels the same, not all problems have an easy solution.

“Yeah, sometimes it’s good to have an uninvolved party to talk to, gives you a little focus you know?” she tries to sound confident but her eyes are looking anywhere but him and he’s not surprised when she completely changes the subject. “I didn’t know what side of the bed you sleep, I can move if you want.”

“Always the closest to the door, I don’t really care about sides,” he stops by the bedside table, picking up another condom and leaving it within reach.

“Think you’re gonna get lucky tonight uh?” she laughs when he slides next to her, guiding her to lay down on him. ,

He loves the feel of her naked body molded to his, one of his legs between hers, her heat pressed flush against his side.

“I already did baby, you came home with me.” The need to kiss her overwhelms him and he invades her mouth with his tongue, their swollen lips tender to the touch. “I can’t get enough of you, let me take you out tomorrow.”

She nods and he kisses her again.

“Penny said something about the Museum of Fine Arts and the Space Museum, I heard there was a butterfly garden?”

“At the Space Museum, yes. I don’t know how many butterflies will be around because it’s winter, but the place is amazing, so much to do, you’ll love it.” He traces the red and pink flowers circling her arm. “Let me see your back.”

She disengages their legs and turns around, laying on her back and he gasps.

“Fucking amazing baby.” His fingers trace the black branches of the cherry, the black ink covering the whole right side of Lucy’s back in small branches, all connecting to a large trunk sitting at the small of her back. Cherry tree flowers in shades of pink and red covers the branches, some in bloom, some still just buds, with a few scatted petals being taken away by an unseen wind. The branches and flowers flow over her right shoulder and down her arm, stopping right above the inside of her elbow, where a single flower lays losing its petals, one of them tattooed over the scars he felt earlier. He gingerly touches them when he moves to spoon her, “Would you tell me about this?”

“Maybe one day. Not today or tomorrow though.” Her voice is low and has a touch of deep sadness to it and the need to protect and comfort her slam him like a thousand bricks. “Goodnight Chris.”

“Goodnight babygirl.” With the touch of a button near the headboard, the bedroom is engulfed in blackness. He pulls her as close as she can be, arms tight around her soft middle, nuzzling her neck and kissing underneath her ear.

.._.._.._..

The light coming from the streets below brighten the room in a yellow hue, the snow tapping the window as it falls.

They awaken at the same time almost, one not used to light when they sleep, the other running from a nightmare. Both feeling the heat of him pressing against her backside, the slick of her core wetting his tight. Their kisses are languid, hands moving slowly but with a purpose, kneading and stroking, plucking and rubbing. He dons the condom and enters her, one of her leg drapping over his, moving together like waves in a nightly sea. His touch is fire on her skin, burning hot and sending her demons scurrying back into the closet of her mind, their absence filled with undiluted pleasure and she craves more, craves him. He’s close, so close, but refuses to crash alone and so moves his touches lower, circling the wetness they created together on the rigid bundle of nerves near her core while he fills, stretching her on his hardness, teasing her senses with filthy words whispered in her ears. He sees the last wave coming, hitched breaths and long moans filling the space between them and they fall together, lips surrounding each other.

He leaves for a moment, coming back with another blanket because it’s too damn cold, and she snuggles close, smiling sleepily at him.

Dodger senses this has been the last of tonight’s shenanigans and makes his way to the bed, jumping up and getting comfortable between the two sleeping bodies. His rearranges his lion between his paws and rests his head on it, happy his favorite human has a mate.

[lonelypond]

Jingle Bell Jazz, Chapter 7

Love Live, NicoMaki, 2.3K, 7/?

Summary: And Bibi gets back to...business?

Chapter 7

Maki woke, shivering, heart still racing from the memory of Nico just off the tip of her nose, lips glistening like the frosting on a cake, eyes lit like stars with burning cores shining after the coldest midnights, whispers of songs or symphonies or…Maki shook herself. She’d fallen asleep with the sofa in sofa mode, not sleeper, and the blanket was on the floor. Too stiff. She stood, stretched, and started pacing. It felt so strange, now, alone in someone else’s home, not like it had earlier, when the rooms were full of Yazawas, rowdy and noisy. The opposite of what Maki was used to with her family, at her mansion, but this half a rowhouse was at the heart a big enough home for Nico and her family to fold Maki into. It had been a great feeling, especially on Christmas Day, but now, in the middle of the night, it had turned to a lonely one, with nothing familiar, and too too many pictures behind her eyes, some from the pin-up girl photo shoot, some still shots from the home movies of today, Nico vivid in the snow, playful, caring in the kitchen, teasing in the evening, emotions and thoughts flashing across her expressive face with quicksilver lightness, but bone deep weight. This was too small a room for this mood, Maki had already been back and forth across it more than a dozen times. At her house, Maki would be sitting at the piano, finding notes and chords, playing uncertainties into conclusions, hesitations into strategies. Maybe if she unpacked the bed from the sofa, her brain would catch the hint and drift into sleep, not race through every song she’d ever played with Nico, every touch, every near brush.

                                                     ###

The drive had been mostly silent. Nico was ready early, the goodbyes had been quick, and the roads clear. Ideal conditions for flying along at top speed and not thinking about anything, just enjoying the feel of the road.

Nico had been staring out the window, but shook herself out of the fugue, “Hey, kid.”

“I prefer genius.” Maki drawled, shooting for a "posh" tone.

Nico snickered, “Really.”

Maki frowned, refusing to take her eyes off the road, “Actually, as I have stated quite clearly before, I prefer my given name, but given your proclivity to ignore my requests, genius is the better of bad choices.”

Nico snapped her fingers. “Relax, Professor. Nico was just trying to ease the atmosphere. Maybe if you weren’t so stiff, being Nico’s backup wouldn’t be so hard.”

“Maybe if Nico had more respect for her backing musicians, I’d be more motivated.”

“HEY!” Nico yelled and it echoed in the car, Maki thought the roof might have flexed upwards, “Nico has a band, Bibi, not backing musicians. Nico respects Eli, Nico respects that you’re trying…”

“But?”

Silence. Maki was surprised. Nico was back to looking out the window, subdued again. “It’s not something Nico can afford to get used to.”

“So if you call me by my name, you’ll get attached?”

Nico shrugged, still looking out the window, “Why find out?”

Maki slammed her foot onto the accelerator, Nico’s words tearing into her, and the responses roaring at 100 miles per hour through her head not ones she wanted to hear resounding off the windows and echoing for the next half hour.

                                                                                  ###

Maki pulled up to Nico’s apartment. Nico hesitated before she opened the door. “Thanks for making sure I had Christmas with my family,” a pause, “Maki. Nico appreciates the thoughtfulness.”

Maki nodded as she prepared to shift gears. “You’re welcome.”

Nico tapped Maki's shoulder to get her attention. "Nico will see you at rehearsal. Wear something not boring.”

Maki whirled, looking Nico in the eye for the first time that day, and struck by the mischief glinting, “What?”

“Nozomi’s taking photos. We need to look good. Try not to....” Nico scratched her chin, “look too much like an actual school marm.”

Maki blew out exasperation, “I have style…”

“Yes, you have A style.” Nico confirmed, her tone sardonic, “But your style needs to be a closer riff off Eli’s and mine or you’ll be this off note for the audience. Nico knows these things.” Nico grinned, “Ask Kotori, she likes dressing pretty girls.”

Maki had a retort ready and then her brain tripped on Nico’s lips pursing around the phrase “pretty girls” in a near kiss.

“So see you later.” Nico opened the door, stepping out with a wave.

Maki kept staring, Nico laughed and slammed the door, jarring Maki back to street side. It was already a long day, And now Maki had to find an outfit.

                                                                                      ###

Maki, standing in her closet, was reviewing what she’d seen Nico wearing so far...and Eli. Eli was obviously going to channel bright and feminine, Nico would probably go for....pin up girl, Maki sighed, vowing to keep all her attention focused on her piano keys. But Nico, off stage, obviously liked casually mixing in menswear. Maybe something like that could work for Maki. Maybe she should be searching her father’s closet.

Maki was happy with what she’d come up with. A simple pencil skirt combined with an oxford with a purple stripe, a tweed vest, and a lilac tie with red highlights. She topped it off with a favorite dark gray fedora she’d never really gotten to wear much. Tugging her hat down over one eye, Maki walked into the rehearsal room with confidence that at least Nico would see she’d made an effort.

Nico had chosen a simple swing dress but in very now black and white checked pattern with a red sash at her waist. Eli was dressed in a short dark blue skirt, white tights, and a fluffy knitted pale blue top that piled nicely atop the curve of her bosom. Nozomi was dressed in capris and a turtleneck, her camera hanging around her neck, helping Eli with her hair, which Eli had let loose from its usual ponytail. Nico had a small hat clipped to the top of her head, with black netting piled around it. Her lips were a very vivid shade of red, matching the sash. And her eyes. Maki blinked, frozen for a moment, taking in details as Nico rushed her.

“Not bad…” Nico paused, lips twisted in a smirk that was as magnetic as true North to a compass, “genius.” Nico’s hands reached up, Maki started back, but recovered herself as Nico's fingers started to fumble at her tie.

“Hey.” Maki choked out.

“Don’t worry, Nico’s not a suspect on one of your detective shows. You just need to loosen up a little, longhair.” Nico eased the knot on Maki’s tie, and undid the button at her collar, a fingertip or two just grazing Maki’s throat with a tingling warmth, then her hand resting near Maki’s shoulder. Maki was at a complete loss for any kind of syllabic response, instead gaping and taking in air that smelled of the fruity musk she’d come to associate with Nico. What kind of perfume…

Nico waved her hand in front of Maki’s eyes, “Hey, genius, say something. Nico loosened your tie not tightened it.”

Maki nodded. Nozomi snorted and Nico turned to frown at her.

Which discouraged Nozomi not at all. “If you’re done petting the pretty pianist, Nico-chi, we can get started.”

Nico growled, Maki reran Nozomi’s sentence in her head and stared at the photographer, who winked. Maki decided that that was a good moment to warm up on the piano.

                                                                               ###

Why wasn’t Nico looking at her, Maki found herself thinking. This wasn't how they worked. The breakthrough rehearsal in her music room, she and Nico had clicked, started to communicate, there had been a link between them, one that let Maki sense what the dynamo would do, which way she’d make the song veer, would her voice drop into the sensual range that had pricked up the hairs on Maki’s neck, or would Nico’s pace take them on bop that would have every audience member tapping their feet and reaching for a dance partner. Nico had been alert to Maki's every impulse and Maki could sense Nico's every intent. But today, Nico was focused on the camera and posing and leaning into Nozomi’s range, sliding across seats with a simmer in her eyes, perching on window sills, circling her heels, Maki, just a spectator pounding out a rhythm that Nico skated over indiscriminately. Maki noticed a twitch in Nico’s shoulders when the her piano slowed or scattered an obvious transition, but Nico's main concern was Nozomi and camera angles, not music. Eli, presumably used to the attention from her...friend, was relaxed and happy, merrily musically adventuring in a sunbeam that gave her a glow while Maki plugged painfully away behind a piano, fedora forgotten and hanging off the music holder in front of her, any gleam of playfulness dissipated by the tediousness of keeping Nico in time.

“Let’s get all three of you in the same shot.” Nozomi decided, letting the camera hang down from her neck and pushing Eli toward the piano. “Nico, why don’t you…”

Before Nozomi could finish her sentence, Nico had angled behind Maki, sliding her arms around Maki’s shoulders, “Got it. Nico knows what looks good.”

“Yes, yes, you do.” Nozomi raised the camera and clicked almost as rapidly as Maki’s blood pressure rose, Nico’s hair flying loose and tickling her ear, Nico’s breath a warm brush against her cheek.

“Is this a good angle?” Nico asked, “Play something so I can sing, Maki.”

Maki’s thoughts were pinballing frantically, trying desperately to sort whatever Nico was saying into some comprehensible order. Hadn’t Nico loosened her tie, Maki thought. Should breathing be this difficult? Why did Nico’s arms feel like so much lead?

Nico decided to make it worse. She leaned even further into Maki’s shoulder, reached down to grasp Maki’s wrist, moving the pianist’s hand to the keyboard. Nico then suggested, in a tone she surely thought would sway her one person audience, “Nico’s seen you do it. You just put this hand he…”

Maki stood, urgently, as if the bench had caught fire, pushed it back, forcing Nico to dodge out of the way.

“Don’t touch me.” Maki was now at the center of the room, glaring around her as fiercely as a hissing, cornered animal.

“Did Nico startle you?”

Maki shook her head emphatically, her curls bouncing freely, “I am here to play music.” She pointed to Nozomi, finger trembling, “Not be part of your collective pin up fantasy.”

Nozomi snorted, Nico looked confused as she repeated Maki’s words, “Pin up fantasy?” The diminutive diva came out from behind the piano. “Sure Nico looks great, but this is…” Maki was still giving off a dangerously trapped vibe but Nico's momentum was picking up, “This is a professional photo shoot. For publicity photos. Nozomi always takes them.” As Nico continued, she got more animated, arms windmilling, voice reaching shrill near shout, “Publicity photos the venue requested.”

Nozomi and Eli had both fallen back to the windowsill, watching with concern as Nico literally backed Maki into a corner, “What do you know about being a professional? Artists probably take a year to paint a fancy portrait in your fancy mansion. Photos are the future, Beethoven. Pay attention.”

Maki leaned down, nose to nose with Nico. “I know about photographs…I take…” Maki raised her hands, exasperated or furious, it was a coin toss. “You know what, never mind. Your professional future is no business of mine.” Maki grabbed her coat, “So please call me when you want to get back to musical rehearsals, Miss Yazawa, so I can be done with this...this…” Maki couldn’t think of a word scathing enough and let the door slam provide punctuation.

The three women left behind let the echoes fall away.

“Damn.” Nico dropped onto the chaise.

“I thought you said your trip went well.” Eli said as she and Nozomi slid into chairs near Nico.

“I did.” Nico sounded uncharacteristically thoughtful.

“Oh.” Eli had no insight to offer.

Nico watched the door, face scrunched as she considered options. Then she rubbed her forehead with a sigh, “We’ll give her a chance to cool off, then I’ll go apologize for…” Nico paused, sounding uncertain, “something.”

Nozomi offered a theory. “Maybe she just didn’t like being startled. She seems pretty uptight.”

Nozomi and Eli could barely hear Nico's mutter, “Maybe that’s why she’s friends with Umi. They can avoid physical contact together.”

“Some of us can’t do that.” Nozomi wrapped Eli in a hug, smacking a kiss on her cheek, and the blonde blushed, “because our girlfriends are just too cute.”

Nico rolled her eyes at her friends. “Go home if you’re going to do that. Professor Square will wig if she comes back. We need to get her back in the mix, so we can get solid for the concert.”

Eli leaned back into Nozomi, relaxing, “Let’s get Honoka and her crew to sit on a session. Having an audience might cut the personal tension. And we can see how much work we need to do.”

Nico bounced up. “I like that, Eli. You find Honoka, I’ll go apologize. Let’s set something up for tomorrow. They’re usually around before lunch, right?”

“I think so.”

“Nico will get Maki here at 10.”

A/N: This is a short chapter, but I wanted to get back into the writing swing. The last three weeks have been taken up with getting The Importance Of Being Earnest started, but rehearsals have started. My January's been cold; how's yours?