#i was lacking something that he really needed

[m0llygunn]

'tis the season (eddie munson x fem!reader)

summary: your sweet neighbour addresses a christmas card to both you and eddie — the only issue? she's never met eddie... so how does she know his name? eddie decides that 'tis the season for all your neighbours to know his name

cw: 18+!, christmas adjacent but you don't have to celebrate, smut, oral, fingering, pinv sex, idk mentions of dying of embarrassment, friends with benefits to more (slightly ambiguous ig) an: just a quick lil thing!!! if you liked it pls tell me or i'll pass away from lack of attention wc: 2.4k+

You didn’t think twice about it — a Christmas card that your next door neighbour dropped off to your apartment, addressed to both you and Eddie. 

You should have thought twice about it — because you’ve never introduced lovely Mrs. Mabel to Eddie, and Eddie doesn’t necessarily show up to your apartment during the day time.

What you and him do… it’s more of a night time thing. You call him — sometimes he calls you — and then he drives over. Sometimes you pretend you need something fixed, sometimes it’s a jar lid that's stuck, one time it was your bedside table that was jammed — but him coming over to introduce himself to your 70 year old neighbour is highly, highly unlikely. 

So when you got the card, maybe you should have thought twice about why his name was on it — but you didn’t. You were on your way out and Mrs. Mabel had left it taped to your door. You slid it into your purse, and then when you got home, you had put it down on your countertop with the thought of opening it after putting away the few groceries you had bought.

Then you just forgot about it for the night. A candle was lit, the lights were dimmed, and Eddie was speed dialed. 

When he showed up, you were pouring drinks for the two of you in your kitchen — that’s when he saw the card. 

“Oh?” he hummed, smiling as he slid his finger along the edge of the rustic brown coloured envelope, picking it up. “What's this?”

“Oh yeah!” you remembered. “Mrs. Mabel dropped that off earlier, I forgot to open it. It's a christmas card,” you beamed. 

“Well, good thing you waited. It’s addressed for both of us,” he winked. 

You didn’t understand the wink. 

You didn’t understand why he was so smug either, and you didn’t ask, you were too distracted by the kitschy card, with drawings of cats wearing Santa hats wishing you and Eddie a ‘Meowy Christmas’ and a ‘Purrfect New Year’. 

It was only after drinks were drunk, your bedroom was visited, and Eddie said something odd, that you started to question what exactly he meant. 

His skin was still dewy where you laid your head on his chest. Both of your breaths were labored. His hand was splayed across your back, feeling extra warm. 

“So… I take it that all your neighbours know my name?” He said it like he was teasing you. You didn’t understand why, but it seemed loaded.

“No? Why would they all know your name?”

“Hmmm,” he hummed, and you could hear the mischief in his smile. He was up to something, but your eyelids were heavy, and his hand started to rub up and down your spine, and with the way your body vibrated, you could not have cared less. Whatever he was getting at could wait. 

And it did wait — one whole week. Then you finally understood, and you really cared — because what the fuck. 

He came over earlier than usual. He hadn’t even called, he just showed up, and with flowers. Flowers. Eddie doesn’t give you flowers, he gives you orgasms. That’s what you thought this thing was between the two of you — nothing more than late night hookups. Not flowers. 

And then he dropped the bomb that he was making you dinner. Dinner. He was being so sweet, and he brought you flowers, and he was making you dinner. You can’t even remember a time where you had seen him before the sun set. Flowers. Dinner.

As he found his way through your kitchen, he made sure to get in every little touch and graze possible, even ones that were so obviously unnecessary. Like when you were washing vegetables at the sink. He pressed himself behind you, wrapping his arms around your body, caging you in against the sink, washing his hands in the most inconvenient position ever. It was incredibly inefficient, and it got the front of your shirt wet, but that was another thing. He peeled your shirt off you right in the kitchen. With a giggle — because this whole ordeal had left you undeniably smitten — you complained that the cotton of your shirt was cold and stuck to you, so his solution was to spin you around and lift it right up from your waist, up your chest, and over your head. 

As the fabric passed over your face, you shut your eyes, only to open them to Eddie pressing a kiss to your lips. The shirt was thrown to the floor, his hands found your cheeks, and you were walked backwards until your bum pressed to the countertop. His body pressed to yours, his belt buckle jutting in the bare skin of your belly, his shirt sticking to the lace of your bra. He kissed you stupid right in the middle of your kitchen. 

When you thought you were moving onto the next part of the night — forgoing dinner and heading straight to the bedroom — you were wrong. 

“What’ya doing?” he murmured against your mouth. You had reached around him, blindly finding and spinning the burner off. 

“Making sure my apartment doesn’t burn down.”

“It won’t. We’re right here.” He pressed a string of new kisses to your lips, and you could feel his smile through every single one. 

Your makeout session did not move to the bedroom. 

When the timer went off, he parted from you with a final peck to your lips, and ‘for good measure’, another one to your cheek. From there on out, you… you were useless. Just a pair of wobbly legs being ordered around by a thoughtless brain. You spilled things, and knocked things over, and clattered dishes, and eventually Eddie put you on watch duty — or as he put it, ‘sit there and look pretty’ duty. 

It didn’t get better either. He kept looking at you. Looking at you with dark eyes that you know too well. Dark eyes that felt deeper than anything you’ve felt before. Dark eyes that made your stomach swirl and your thighs clench. Dark eyes that you wanted in the bedroom, right now. 

You tried to get him in the bedroom. From your spot sitting on the countertop, you tried to hook a pointed foot around his thigh as he stirred honestly over a steaming pan. You tried to give him the same eyes back. You tried — oh god, you tried. 

And you know what he did? He set the table. Lit a candle, set out glasses, lined up forks and knives. Got you a new shirt to wear. Filled your plates, got you both napkins, pulled your chair out for you. 

You wanted him more than anything. 

And then you got him. 

The table was never cleared. Clothes were shed before either of you were past your bedroom door. Your hands were tugging at his boxers, and you wanted to show him how much you appreciated his kindness — how much you enjoyed the impromptu flowers and dinner. 

He had other plans. 

He laid you down and spread you out. Put his mouth to use — held both your hands as he did it too. It had your chest squeezing in a soft way, and your hips moving in a way you could not control. 

“Eddie,” you moaned, as he licked at your sensitive spot, pushing you just over the point of too much pleasure. You already came once but he decided that you deserved much more than that. 

“Am I making you feel good?”

“Mhm, so good, Eddie — fuck,” you gasped as your pleasure quickly became overstimulating. He rearranged your intertwined mess of hands, taking both of yours in one of his, freeing up the other to move down your body and meet his mouth at your core. 

Two fingers were pushed into your already convulsing cunt. You barely had a moment to come down, and he was barreling past that point, moving you onto your next orgasm. His fingers curled, and your whole body tensed.

“Eddie — E-Eddie,” you said, voice rising as your hips began to buck, thighs jerking.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Eddie,” you whined, like it was a real answer and not just his name. Like he should know what he's doing to you — and he does, but to your ignorance, this is exactly what he wants.

“I know — I know, feels good, huh?”

And it did. His fingers felt great, but him properly filling you up felt better. As soon as he sunk his length into you, you were a goner. 

With your legs folded, ankles sitting over his shoulders, blankets gathered where you fisted them in your hands, and your toes curled tightly, Eddie fucked you. Sincerely, amorously, hard.

Every snap of his hips to yours, every crude, wet noise, every creak of the bed, was hidden well beneath the way you panted and whined — and Eddie just goaded you on.

“Yeah? Right there? That's where it feels good?”

“Yes, right — right there,” you answered devotedly.

“C’mon, sweetheart. Tell me how you want it,” he grunted, bringing a soft hand to your cheek and running it upwards, pushing back the baby hairs on your forehead. 

“Harder,” you answered, meeting his gaze. 

“Harder…?’ He smiled, trailing off to prompt you. Just as he did, he let his hips find yours with extra vigour, grinding upwards into you, his cock pressing right against your g-spot with the perfect angle to get a full-body reaction from you. He continued, rolling his hips in a quick rhythm, giving you exactly what you asked for, harder. 

“Eddie,” you gasped, body being pressed up the mattress with the sheer force of his thrust. 

“You like saying my name don’t you? Hm? Sounds so pretty when you say it.”

You should have put it together right there. But you didn’t. You just got louder.

“Eddie — fuck — Eddie!”

“I know. I got you, baby,” he replied, eyes never leaving your face as he purposefully did exactly what he needed to do to get his intended reaction from you. 

“Eddie! Eddie! Eddie!”

One final press of his pelvis to your sensitive clit, one final graze of his cock to that special spot inside of you, one final gasp of his name, and you were coming. Coming harder than you had tonight, harder than you ever had in your whole life. 

You wished you could have stayed in that moment forever. 

Pleasure coursing through you, spreading everywhere from your ten fingers to your ten toes, your mind blank apart from the pure adoration you had for the man who laid overtop of you, cumming inside of you at that very moment. The man who surprised you and brought you flowers and cooked you dinner. 

Oh, and not to mention how, in that moment, you were so blissfully ignorant to a spectacularly embarrassing fact. So naive, so ignorant. So stupid. 

Eddie was a sweetheart. Continued to be a sweetheart, actually. After giving the two of you time to settle, he eventually got up, helped clean you up, cleaned himself up, and then got back into bed with you to cuddle. Cuddling has been a normal thing for the two of you, but his smile as he cozied up close to you, with the way his lips rounded at the corners, and his dimples were so deeply set, it was not the normal, bliss-filled, post-orgasm smile. It was different, it was mischievous, and a touch unsettling. 

“What?” you eventually caved, smiling back at him as he gave you a dramatic side eye paired with a raised brow — he's been waiting for you to ask him what's on his mind. 

He grinned at you, canines poking out with all his glee. He dropped his head to your fluffed pillow, tugged you in closer, and looked at you like he was about to spill some hot, gossipy pillowtalk. 

“Think all your neighbours know my name now?”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, weaving together in the centre, because what does that have to do with anything? ‘What?’ sat on the tip of your tongue, but just as he wiggled his brow, giving you a pointed look, waiting for you to put it all together, it finally hit you. It hit you like a brick to the head. A brick to the head off of a three story building. Beyond painful. 

The reason Mrs. Mabel, dear, sweet, elderly, Mrs. Mabel knew Eddie’s name to write it on your Christmas card: thin walls, his talent, your loud mouth. 

“No,” you gasped, jaw dropping.

“No?” He scrunched his forehead upwards, eyes widening, leaning in even closer to you to absorb the full extent of your shock. “Because I think they do,” he smirked, voice rising with amusement. Finding your waist under the blankets, he curled his fingers into your flesh. You squirmed, grabbing his hand and holding him still. This is serious. 

“Eddie,” you frowned, squeezing his hands before pushing them out from under the blankets and away. He let you, watching you through bright eyes, loving every minute of your humiliation. 

“Yes, sweetheart, that is my name,” he practically sang. 

“That’s so embarrassing.” You let your body shrink into the mattress, turning to hide your face in the pillow. You whined out a long groan, ridding your body of every ounce of breath in your lungs. If you were a lucky person, you would have suffocated. Died right there and rid yourself of all your mortal shame. 

“Nobody complained, I think they’re fine with it.” His hand became a heavy weight of your waist, coaxing you out from the pillow while rubbing your back.

“I’m not fine with it,” you said abruptly, nearly giving yourself whiplash as you turned your neck to look at Eddie. “Mrs. Mabel… she… she — ”

Eddie finished your sentence — “She gave us a Christmas card. She’s not upset,” he smiled, leaning in once again, this time to press a kiss to your forehead. 

He's wrong. You know it, but you don't have the will to fight it. So instead you rolled your eyes, sighing as you laid your head back down to your pillow. 

“You’re so annoying.”

“Oh really?” Eddie teased, his mischievous tone contradicting the gentle way he pulled the blanket up for you, covering your shoulders and tucking it under your chin. “I don’t recall me being annoying a few minutes ago?” He took a deep inhale. “Eddie! Eddie! Eddie —” he began to chant, voice pitched up mockingly, volume way too loud. 

“Shush,” you scolded him, jumping forward, fighting to free your arms from the blanket to smack both of your hands over his mouth. His voice vibrated behind your palms, and his laughter stuck to your skin as you forcibly shut him up. 

Your neighbours clearly already knew his name, but if they didn’t, they definitely do now.

thank you for reading! happy holidays <333333

[fullflowerking]

A. Removing my name because some of you can't behave 😁

B. I don't remember my wings that well, but definitely closer to a lighter shade. Perhaps bronze or sandy brown

C. I was a lower ranking angel, tasked with observing humanity. Not intervening

D. See above

E. I didn't fall, I reincarnated to earth as a human being and I still consider my species to be an angel

F. I remember being in a beautiful garden at some point. My mind felt light and airy, and I "felt" things around me with spatial awareness instead of objectively viewing it. If you asked me to describe a single plant or creature in this garden I wouldn't be able to.

G. I resonate with the element fire because I was born in December. My dad was sick with cancer when I was born, and they told him he might not live. After I was born, he got better. I always attach this to the transformative power of fire, and my angelic abilities are still attached to me in utero.

H. I'm a biblical angel, so I guess more likely the Christian god. I don't remember him though, just a faint memory of Him being present.

I. I feel I became confined to earth after observing humans for so long. I think at some point I wanted to be involved more than I was, so I decided to join.

K. The advantage of being an angel on earth really depends on your definition of an advantage. My definition is having more freedom, being able to touch, see and experience the world like a proper mammal rather than like a divine being. You miss out on a lot when you lack the 5 senses.

L. A disadvantage. There are many. When you're an angel, you don't get tired, you don't need to go to the bathroom, you don't need to eat. Suddenly all these things that make you human become an exhausting task that you have to be involved in, all the time. There are more, but I want to keep this short.

M. I was around during the holy war. The crusade before crusades. I remember a few angels starting to feel less angelic over time, and it was like a ripple effect amongst the loyal. Suddenly, the side I was on with my brother Michael felt less and less like the winning side, and more like the side you pick when there's no better option. I desired the same freedoms as the other side but I suppose I was too cowardly to take it.

N. No one around me knows my identity. I feel like it's unnecessary to tell anyone. I can never go back to what I was. The best thing I can do is live my life as heavenly as I can in my current life.

O. Funnily enough, I started suspecting i was something more at a very young age. I didn't know quite what. I remember having mental shifts in the church growing up, and having visions about winged creatures when I was around 10. I discovered angels outside of the Bible and for the first time I felt like these things were the best thing I could use to describe myself.

P. Lol. I was hoping this question would come up. O fortuna is at the top of my list. It always gives me chills. Any songs in Latin or slavic-based languages always makes me go into mental shifts.

Q. To feel angelic, I watch movies with angels in them, read books with angels in them, exercise and ride my bike to just feel the wind against my face. I go to the park with a long black coat on and listen to music, and just watch people. Sometimes I talk to them, but not often because I can be quite introverted.

R. See above. I also veil on occasion, especially when I'm around religious buildings or graveyards or when meditating. (I do not pray to the Christian god)

S. I'm not repelled by religious buildings. I'm also not attracted to them. But when I step inside a place that has been cleansed, anointed or used for worship, I can get mental shifts and my vibration raises to the point that I believe that religious figures and children can feel.

T. Good question. Unfortunately I don't know what my halo looked like. I'm assuming it was closer to light than a physical object, maybe light that my divinity gave off. Like a rainbow spectrum or pure white. 🤷‍♀️ no clue.

U. If I did, I don't remember.

V. Not prophetic dreams, but I've had vivid dreams and nightmares about snakes, naked human beings, violence, starvation and fire. I have had many dreams of what I believe to be pre-flood events on earth, where animosity & disbelief became more rampant between Him and humans.

W. Nope

X. Anywhere that has a beautiful garden. I also like fountains, aquariums, the forest and jungle

Y. Nope

X. I remember being in Europe at some point. I don't know exactly where, I just remember hearing some francophone language being spoken, and there was a lot of political unrest. Unfortunately, the details were never that important to anyone, and as I've mentioned before, I didn't see things the same way as an angel as I do now. My best guess would be middle ages or less. They seemed to be very complicated with the Catholic church back then.

I hope you enjoyed my answers as much as i enjoyed answering them

Angelic Ask Meme

I’ve been meaning to make one of these for a while…send some to my ask, and feel free to reblog!

A-what is your angelic name? B-what did your wings look like? C-what are you an angel of? D-what order or rank of angel are you? E-did you fall? If so, why? F-describe a random angelic memory G-what element/s do you align with? H-do you remember or follow any gods? I-do you know or suspect why you are earthbound? J-what other angels were you close to? K-an advantage to being an angel on earth? L-a disadvantage to being an angel on earth? M-were you around during the war? If so, what side were you on? N-does anyone irl know you’re an angel? O-how long have you known you’re Angelic? P-what is a song that reminds you of being angelic, or of an angelic memory? Q-what is something you do to feel angelic? R-have anything you wear that makes you feel like your angelic self? S-are you attracted to places of worship, or repelled by them? T-what did your halo look like? U-any angels you had a rivalry with? V-ever have any prophetic dreams, or things like that? W-are you an empath/psychic/medium/etc? X-any places on earth that remind you of home? Y-ever had irl contact with other divines in this life? Z-have any past earthbound life memories?

[linddzz]

I am slamming that validation button like a rodent wanting more sugar water so here's more mostly rough draft Jayvik.

A continuation of the nicknames fic. More science dorks being dorks, this time greatly featuring some seriously questionable boundaries between totally normal lab colleagues, and much more briefly featuring Viktor being so horny it makes him stupid. Also appearing is Jayce Talis, ADHD King and allusions to Viktor's past slut era. Both fics are a sort of preview chapter in the bigger thing @amahhi and I are working on!

Thank you to @avelera for planting the idea of platonically dubious scritches in my head, and for being a constant sounding board!

Rating: PG

Pair: Jayvik pre-relationship

----

It continues to be surprising, how not surprising everything is when it comes to Jayce.

A week into the partnership, and that initial bright thrill of something new has not dulled in the slightest. Nor has the perfectly ordinary, easy comfort that he feels with Jayce. The un-remarkability of this calm is what makes it remarkable. With Jayce, there is none of the discomfort of dealing with another person. None of the abrasive tension that arises when Viktor must face other people as distinct personalities which he must contend with, instead of the larger concepts of People. People as an idea have problems that he can solve, whose suffering he can reduce without any needs for interaction causing issues.

But Jayce functions outside of these issues Viktor often finds himself in. Jayce slots into a space Viktor hardly knew existed, like there had always been this jagged edge to him that, to his great surprise, was actually part of a puzzle that Jayce had the other half to.

Past experience would have him expecting that, with time, the shine would wear off. The glow would dim. He would learn all the little faults and human contradictions of Jayce and would grow to feel that jagged tension return. Spending hours upon hours each and every day for a solid week with him have revealed Jayce’s little foibles, yet not one has grown into a frustration. In actuality, Viktor has had nothing but further data points to add weight to his newly forming thoughts of destiny and its relation to himself and Jayce. For each little fault and lacking Jayce has, Viktor can help. He can, perhaps, be the puzzle piece that returns the favor to fit neatly into Jayce's life.

For example, Jayce can grow blind to his surroundings, his mind too caught in their work. Viktor had assumed that the apartment was in the state he first found it in due to an explosive force of arcane power. He still thinks that, but he has learned that this great force was not the struck gem amplifying and reflecting the kinetic force aimed at it to exponential levels, but Jayce himself. He often forgets his keys, or his mugs, or his pencils behind an ear, his goggles on his head, his tools, everything but his journal really.

It was the third time that he left his keys in the lab (on top of twice that he came in groaning that he had locked himself out of his temporary housing), that Viktor realized what the pattern was, and that he could provide a solution.

Jayce had more important things to focus his mind on, so it was both useless and counterproductive to adjust Jayce’s behavior or habits so he could track the little necessities of life. Fortunately, Viktor is well practiced on keeping track of what he needs to. It’s a skill that was refined when he first used it to avoid detection in the Academy, and then even further developed as Professor Heimerdinger’s assistant. When Jayce left his keys behind again, the answer was simple and obvious. They were already missing from Jayce’s person, so Viktor simply took them to the sort of establishment in the lanes that would never ask any questions, but would always make a perfect copy of any keys brought to them.

Jayce’s keys were neatly returned to him, and Viktor took no small delight in waiting for the next time Jayce smacked his forehead as they left for the day, realizing that he had once again locked himself out of his rooms, to reveal his backups. There was a brief moment, where Jayce stared at the keys hanging from Viktor’s finger, when he worried in a flash that this was not something a friend or colleague should do, that he had overstepped in some way. Then Jayce snorted with his grin, called Viktor brilliant if a little terrifying, but mostly brilliant, and everything was perfect.

The key was only for Jayce’s temporary rooms in the Academy housing, but Viktor could make another set once the apartment repairs were complete, even if it seems wasteful to have Jayce eventually move out of the building that Viktor lives in.

Jayce is also wonderful at taking notes for his work, but less skilled at going back to reorganize or refine those notes. His notes are exemplary, even with the little flair of him signing every single page, but it leads to problems.

These problems are their current struggle in the cramped space of their semi-lab at some odd hour of the night. Viktor stands and contemplates the board crowded with copies of Jayce’s notes, additional observations both have about that first successful arcane spell, and Viktor’s little chalked notes next to clusters of paper denoting what sections of an article each goes to. Behind him, Jayce is not exactly pacing, which would require repeating of one path, but he is in a constant state of muttering movement with occasional bursts of frustration over paperwork.

Because they can make a fully stable arcane frame that affects the gravity within the dean’s office, but that means nothing to the academy if it is not properly written and submitted for review. They are on their fourth draft of the paper, and the initial excitement over being published has dwindled with every draft that has been returned with Heimerdinger’s cheerful blue ink slashed across the pages. One of Jayce’s faults, Viktor is finding, is that he does not take such things gracefully. It takes the second set of revisions for Viktor to realize that pride is not the primary hurt that Jayce feels, but the thread of anxiety Viktor had seen woven through Jayce’s journal. The need to prove himself, and the fear of impending failure at every turn.

“How else do they want me to explain it?” Jayce groans, and Viktor does not need to turn around to know that the perfectly clean cut hair is likely sticking out in every direction.

“I was hoping the Professor would not have edited “crank it” so quickly out of the methodology.” Viktor muses. That was his greatest disappointment. “I am deeply curious on how he expects us to find half of the citations he has requested for this entirely new scientific field.”

“And when the Academy insists there aren’t more tomes on mage lore!” Jayce snarls.

“We will have to expand outside of the Academy in the future.” Viktor agrees, turning a little to once again look over the taped up pages of their latest draft and what blue marks are where. “However, I think a more concrete description of the runic array you conducted into the stabilizer may be our ticket past many of the other issues he has found.”

Instead of grumblings or more huffed complaints, a heavy weight thumps onto Viktor’s shoulder. He pauses, realizing immediately that it is Jayce’s head that has slumped against him, and Jayce’s impressive body heat against his back indicating that there is, at most, a few inches of space between them.

“I don’t know how.” Jayce groans, but it’s less petulant and quieter, almost fearful. “I don’t know how to describe what I did.”

“Hm.” Is all Viktor can say in that exact moment. He is, briefly, distracted by Jayce’s hair brushing against his jaw with the strong scent of some sort of…of fancy wood. It is not an unpleasant scent.

“Sorry.” Jayce mutters. “Sorry, I know you’re not touchy I just- gimme a second I gotta think.”

“That’s perfectly alright.” Viktor assures him. It is alright. Jayce is correct that Viktor is not nearly as tactile as Jayce is, but he is at this point well acquainted with Jayce’s propensity towards touch. His own lack of aversion or any other strong reaction to it was one of the earliest surprises in their partnership. “Take your time gathering your thoughts. This is a far less dire circumstance than that first stabilization was.”

“You told me there was no pressure then.” Jayce mumbles, already sounding a little less miserable.

“That is because I was lying.” Viktor hums, delighted at the snort he gets, and the way he can feel Jayce’s movement from the small laugh.

“Seriously V, I just remembered that night, remembered what the mage looked like and what all the magic looked like and I…did the same thing. But it wasn’t the same thing, because no one got teleported. I don’t even know if what I did was a spell.” Viktor thinks he can feel the resonance of Jayce’s voice through his core, spreading in waves from the point where Jayce’s forehead presses down at the top edge of his shoulder.

The distraction is not a true distraction however, because Viktor catches something in what Jayce is muttering. “You can remember how he moved, what the runes he summoned looked like?”

“I remember everything about that night.”

“Yes but-” There is something here. He has already seen Jayce's remarkable skill at memorizing things that Jayce deems worth memorizing. If Jayce says he can remember it, Viktor does not doubt it. “The order of them, could you remember that?”

The head on Viktor’s shoulder shifts as Jayce rolls it slightly to one side, but he doesn’t move it in the other to shake his head. It’s a contemplative movement. “Maybe…I think so. Let me...ok this is going to sound so weird but can I just uh, hang out here for a second? It helps me think.”

“By all means.” There’s something particularly marvelous about becoming a stabilizing agent for Jayce’s mind, he would be a fool not to agree to the opportunity. As Jayce calibrates himself, Viktor once again considers their paper, the problems it has given them. Jayce had moved the dial of the stabilizing framework like a conductor, with precision. Heimerdinger wants written out theories and explanations and citations, but what if they could instead find a formula. What if the precision of Jayce’s input could be broken down into components and quantified…

His free hand moves with habitual lack of awareness to where it would usually begin fiddling with his own hair, and it takes a few moments for him to notice the slight change in both texture and location of the hair he is rolling between his fingertips. Even then, he only notices because Jayce’s head becomes an even heavier weight on his shoulder.

“Ah, apologies.” He says, stopping the movement, thinking this might be a thing to feel awkward about. “Force of habit, it helps me think.”

“No, s’fine.” Jayce says, voice thicker in a way that is dangerous for Viktor’s higher thought processes. “It’s nice, actually. I don’t mind.”

After a second, Viktor continues. This time he notes the finer texture of Jayce’s hair. It’s very soft, sleek almost, with traces of the gel he uses to style it making sections of stiffness that crunch away under Viktor’s fingers.

“You smell nice.” Jayce mumbles.

A response to that requires some consideration. Viktor…considers.

There was a time, not all that long ago, where he would have leapt on someone with Jayce’s build telling him he smelled good while standing a scant inch away from Viktor. He would have assumed that the intent was for him to leap. Viktor is more discriminating than he used to be about sexual escapades, mostly because he began finding the nights spent on dalliances not worth the distractions, but even he can admit that if Jayce had put a head on his shoulder and told him he smelled good a week ago, Viktor would know exactly how to respond. It would have involved leaning back against that broad heat, turning lightly twirling fingers into a fist in Jayce’s hair, then gleefully seeing where things went from that point.

But now…

Jayce fits in like a missing puzzle piece. Whatever Jayce is, it is not one of Viktor’s brief encounters. Viktor would want to tell Jayce he didn’t need to get his apartment repaired, when Viktor lives much closer to the lab and things would be much more efficient if they lived together. Viktor can be wildly in love with this man in every definition of love that exists, but romantic or sexual entanglements (and if there is one, Viktor very much wants the other as well) often end. In Viktor’s personal experience, they ended before morning, and that was only considering the sexual entanglement. Heightened intimacy was desperately tempting, but it risked a greater end to the entire partnership. Even if nothing ever started, a proposition alone could forever poison what there already is.

Jayce is tactile in a very casual way. He flirts with everything that smiles at him for more than three seconds, and there has been nowhere near enough data for Viktor to calculate the risk of losing that side of the puzzle, or how much of a reward he would gain from taking that risk.

“Thank you.” He says eventually, slow and still considering. Then, because that feels incomplete and awkward, he adds, “I use soap.

Jayce snorts again, the head on Viktor’s shoulder shaking as Jayce’s body shakes with quiet laughter. Viktor knows he is shaking with it, because every other hitch up of Jayce’s shoulders causes a tiny sway forward, which bumps Jayce’s chest against Viktor’s back. Each of these millisecond bits of contact makes Viktor once again run through the considerations of risk versus reward in relation to getting his hands on that chest. Under the shirt. He would need both hands. There is an awful lot of chest, after all. Maybe both hands and his mouth. Definitely all three. It really is so much chest.

He takes the fantastic effort to rein his mind away from Jayce’s prodigious chest, even more effort to pull it further from contemplating the amount of shoulder matching that chest and what the rest of the torso probably looks like. There should be a response in kind to Jayce’s. A friendly compliment to return a compliment.

“Your hair is very soft.” He decides, as that seems safe as well as relevant to Jayce's compliment. Jayce’s silent laughter turns into some small hitched sounds that near a squeak, which means that Viktor’s thoughts are successfully pulled away from the sexual distractions, but only into the romantic sort.

“Thank you.” Jayce says with a dreadful mimic of Viktor’s accent, which only strengthens Viktor’s resolve to not take any uninformed risks that could lead to him losing this, “I use a leave-in conditioner.”

Viktor’s hand drops from Jayce’s hair, and he turns his head as much as he can to shoot a baffled look at the top of Jayce’s head.

“Why the fuck would you leave in a hair conditioner?” He asks, affronted. “Conditioner already feels dreadful. It’s heavy and slimy, absolutely horrendous.”

Jayce shoots up (which is a shame) so that he can lean around and give Viktor a look of equal outrage. “What does- Viktor it’s a different thing from- do you not use conditioner!?”

“Of course not. It feels terrible, I already said that.” Jayce makes a pained sound, and Viktor waves him off. “Enough of that nonsense. It is a waste of time. I have an idea.”

Jayce moves up next to him, facing Viktor with an intent eagerness. “What is it?”

“You are going to describe to me exactly what you remember. Each rune, each movement, as much as you can.” Another thought occurs to him, and Viktor snatches his cane from where it’s leaning on the board so he can turn to the inert stabilizing frame sitting on a table. “And I want you to dial in the stabilizer as you did in Heimerdinge’s lab as you do so. I will record everything. I believe there may be something we can measure, some sort of constant in the timing and the runes used, a way to-”

“We can make it an equation.” Jayce interrupts, breathless and awed, knowing what Viktor is thinking without Viktor needing to explain any of it. He so deeply wishes Heimerdinger had let them keep “crank it” in the paper. “Something concrete.”

“Precisely. The runes are instructions, a code. Perhaps the clockwise and counter-clockwise cycles of them are additional instructions. We can use your stable field as a baseline to begin working on a formula.”

“We can give them a solid theorum.” Jayce is already rushing to the stabilizing frame, even recreating the hunched over pose he had that wondrous night. “Okay, tell me when you’re ready.”

Any thoughts on conditioner or smells are gone. In the future, it will be as common as breathing for them to be drawn together when they need help thinking. Jayce’s head will always find Viktor’s shoulder, and Viktor will learn that playing with Jayce’s hair further settles his restless mind and channels his thoughts towards solutions. Whatever else there is, the most important goal to further all other goals of Viktor’s life is to keep the partnership. In the partnership there is the work, the thrill. The endless infinitesimal ways they fit together, two pieces destined to find the other. In the moment, Viktor takes up his notes and marvels again on the nature of fate, of probability, and of magic.

[rosenclaws]

Birds of a Feather || Old Man!Logan x Reader x Worst!Logan

summary: Logan loves you even if he can't say it but he knows that given his old age he's been lacking in the intimacy area. When a strange portal opens up and another Logan tumbles out of it, things get a little messy. (Or Worst Logan cucks Old Man Logan)

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI, fem!reader, cucking, fingering, rough sex, cum eating, masturbation, thigh riding, oral (female receiving), overstimulation, mating press, doggy style, dirty talk, kinda mean!worst logan (he taunts old man logan a lot), slight pain kink (Logan), ass play, nipple play, breast play. Also neither logan ever interact with each other beyond talking.

a/n: Soooo Merry Christmas!! Here is my gift to all of you lmao. So to set a few things up, At the start both men are called Logan but a couple paragraphs in is when I separate them into James and Logan. I really hope it doesn't get confusing but I did my best lol. I really hope this lives up to peoples expectations im kinda nervous lol. Anyways happy holidays and I hope u love it!!!

Logan was an old man now. The adamantium was seeping itself into his blood. Killing him. It had been for years but with his healing factor starting to fail him the poisoning was truly taking its effect. He was weaker, tired. His heart was touched by a poison and it was turning him cold. There's only one good thing in his life now and it's you.

You're too kind. He tried to keep you away from his fucked up life but you were relentless. You were an experienced nurse who could take care of Charles. Free of charge. He fought you at every step of the way. Not wanting your pity. But he caved. 

Eventually you started taking care of him too. You were just too pretty, too charming. He couldn't stay away. This old man doesn't believe he gets to be happy and you try to change his mind every day. He did his best to take care of you too but the one area he knows he's lacking is the sex life. He tries, he really does. But he's old and while you're the sexiest thing on the planet, sometimes he just can't keep it up or he just can't finish.

It's embarrassing. Humiliating. You wave him off, telling him that it's not a big deal. That he still pleases you in a million other ways. Riding his face, his big fingers, you don't need his cock to know that he can take care of you. But it still bothers him. Still you lived your lives and things were fine. Until something weird happened. Really fucking weird. A large yellow portal opened up in your house. Logan bared his claws and pushed you behind him, ready to fight whatever the hell stepped out of it. 

To both of your shock another...him? 

Beaten up and bruised but its him. He looked younger but his hair was in these little tuffs and he was wearing a god awful yellow suit. He was kind of cute. Is this what your Logan would have looked like when he was younger? You snap out of your thinking, this is another man. It's Logan but not Logan. 

"Fucking shit!" The other Logan yells as the yellow door closes behind him. 

"Wade you dumb motherfucker I'm going to rip your head off!" He roars. He turns around, wiping the blood from his face. His eyes go wide when he sees you. He calls your name and steps towards you. Your Logan growls, putting up his claws. 

"Back the fuck up bub." The other Logan looks between the two of you and just narrows his eyes. Both their shiny claws come out to threaten the other. 

"Logan?" You call softly. Both of the men turn to you. 

"Can we just talk?" They look at each other and slowly retract their claws. 

After getting both of them to calm down the other guy explains exactly how he got there. He's from another universe, another time. He was pulled from his world into this one by an asshole with a stupid face and red suit. His stupid friend was messing with a little time machine thingy he stole and now he's here. That was his summary of things. You...tried to grasp it. You live in a world with mutants so time travel and universe hopping wasn't exactly strange. But to see another Logan. He also keeps glancing at you. 

Every time he does James, you've decided to start calling your Logan by his childhood name to make it easier, James tightens his grip on your hand. The way this other Logan looks at you, they're such sad eyes. He must have had a you in the other universe. 

"You can stay with us for a while, until you can get back to your time." You offer sweetly. 

"Thank you sweetheart." Logan's hands twitch, like he wants to reach out for you but he doesn't. James reluctantly gets up, pointing to the spare room and keeping his eyes on Logan's every move. 

"Don't drink my liquor." James mumbles as he heads to your bedroom. 

"He's the anchor being, really?" Logan whispers but you catch him. 

"What was that?" Logan freezes and turns to you.

"Nothing sweets," He flashes a smile you know he's lying. This Logan has the same tell as your own. 

"Who am I? In your world?" You ask curiously. Logan's face drops and he seems to close up. 

"No one, just a friend." He stalks to his room and closes the door behind you. Sighing you wonder what you've got yourself into now.

Living with two wolverines was not easy. Especially for you. They didn't get along and you had to play peacemaker. It was exhausting. Logan was nice enough to you but closed off and James was pissed off and protective. You were worried they'd slit each other's throats.

Plus...it was hard living with two Logan's when they were both ridiculously attractive. You never wanted anyone else but James. But this was just confusing. He was James but he wasn't but he looked like him and fuck he was ripped. James had a body to envy but so did Logan.

You were ashamed to admit you thought about Logan, just a little bit. You never let it go far but your dreams ran wild. They were hot and dirty and you woke up feeling soaked and guilty. You didn't say a word to James or Logan. What good could come of that? But they're perceptive men and you could feel Logan's eyes on you in the mornings. James' too. You couldn't escape them forever.

You should have known something was up the moment you walked through the front door and saw both boys sitting together in the living room. Normally they'd stay far away from each other.

"Hi..." You say suspiciously as you set down the grocery bags. 

"Come here." James pats his lap and you walk over. He pulls you down onto his knee and smashes his lips onto yours. You can't help but moan as his hand squeezes your ass. 

"James!" You moan as you try to push him away. You look over at Logan who was watching with hungry eyes. Licking his lips as his eyes trail up and down your body. 

"We had a talk sweetheart," Logan's voice is deep and primal as he stands up and grabs your chin.

"We both know what you want. The old man over here can't fuck you the way you want to be fucked." James tightens his grip on your waist as Logan flirts up a storm. 

"I...James I-" You look at James with a guilty look on your face. 

"It's okay honey, I want you to feel good." He says while glaring at Logan. He isn't going to just hand you over, but he knows you crave to be destroyed, ruined and he can't do that for you anymore. So reluctantly, he's going to let his other self fuck you. 

"Rule one. You don't get to come inside." James situates you on his thigh. Slowly rocking you on it until you're squirming. 

"Rule two. She says stop, you stop." Logan eyes your cleavage with a hungry look. 

"And rule three. You don't get to kiss her." He says possessively. 

Logan rolls his eyes but agrees to the terms. The three of you head to the bedroom. James sits on a chair facing the bed. He groans as his bones creak. You shoot him a worried look but he waves you off. Unbuttoning his pants and letting his cock free. Logan pulls your focus as he leaves hickeys up your shoulder, sucking on a particular spot on your neck. 

"Shit.." You groan. How did he know that was your sweet spot? You don't have much time to think as you hear a claw come out. Logan waits and you nod your head. He cuts through your clothes and they fall to the floor in shreds.

"Fuck." Logan groans as his hands trail up your body. Your bare skin drives him nuts. He closes his eyes as he takes his time exploring. Committing your body to memory, each curve and dip. 

"Missed this." He whispers softly for only him to hear. 

"Lay down sweetheart." Logan hums and you obey. Crawling onto the bed as Logan sheds his yellow suit. Your eyes trail down his built chest to his already hard cock. 

"Damn." 

"As big as your boyfriends over there?" Logan says with a smirk. 

He kneels onto the bed and grabs your legs, putting them around his waist as he bends down and goes back to biting your neck. Your nails dig into his biceps as you buck your hips. His cock presses against your thigh as he moves down your body. Stopping at your breasts, squeezing and teasing one of your nipples while sucking on the other. You whine when he bites down. Licking over the spot he bit. 

"Sorry, I couldn't help myself." He smiles through his apology. He moves down your stomach and rests himself in between your legs. 

"Let's see how sweet you taste." You gasp as he buries himself into your cunt. His hands locking you in place, not letting you move against his pleasurable assault. 

"Logan!" You moan as you claw at his hair. Raking your hands through it until you find a grip. Pulling on it only eggs him on. His tongue moves against your clit over and over again. He refuses to let up as your moans get louder. You try to move but Logan growls like an animal. 

"Don't fucking move." He licks his lips as he raises his head. He looks over to James and smirks. 

"I see why you're so protective, wouldn't want to share a girl as sweet as this either." You look over to James who was slowly stroking his cock. It was painful watching another man feast on his cunt but he can see how much you're loving it. 

"Play with your tits." James commands as Logan goes back down. 

You listen and slowly play with your nipples. Squeezing your breasts and arching your back when Logan sticks his tongue into your cunt. Fuck he knows what he's doing.

"I can't- fuck! I-" Your back arches high as Logan sucks on your clit. 

He doesn't let up. One of his hands lets go of your thigh and his thumb presses on your clit. His tongue is now moving to your cunt. You roll your hips as Logan fucks you with his tongue and rubs your clit with his thumb.

It's a deadly combination that leaves you helpless. You come around his tongue hard. He groans as you leak around him. Licking up the sweet taste until he's satisfied. As you start to relax you feel Logan's tongue back on your clit. 

"Fuck!" You gasp in surprise as he places himself back on your cunt. 

"Too much! Can't take it!" You claw at the sheets but Logan pays no mind. 

"You can take it, always have you crying on my face." James says huskily. 

He wants a taste, mouth watering at the sinful sounds of your went pussy. Tears threaten to fall as Logan shoves two fingers into your cunt. He fucks you like he knows you, curling his fingers just how you like it. The sounds of your cunt get louder as he roughly fingers you. 

"One more come on, fuck give me one more." Logan props himself on his elbow as he pistons his fingers into you. 

"No No I can't." You cry. You don't want him to stop but it's so overwhelming. It's too much pleasure. 

"Yes you can." Logan cups your cheek and wipes away a stray tear. 

"I got you," Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you come again. Your cunt clenching around his fingers as soak his hand. Both of them watch in awe as you make a mess. 

"Knew you could take it." Logan takes his fingers out and sucks them clean. He eyes James who hasn't taken his eyes off your cunt. 

"Want a taste old man?" You look over with pleading eyes at your boyfriend. You need him too. He winces as he stands up but leans down and gets between your legs. 

"Shh baby, just want a taste." James squeezes your thighs softly.

Your cunt twitches as he leans down and takes a fat lick up. You're on edge from your previous orgasms and it's borderline painful. Both men look up at you when you gasp. 

"I'm okay, just please be gentle." Your lips form into a small pout and James melts. 

"Course baby," He takes a few soft licks and you sigh as Logan strokes his cock. 

He takes your hand and wraps it around his cock. Fuck he's big and hard and leaking over your hand. You can't help but notice it's different from your Logan too. But you keep that thought to yourself. James grunts as he gets back to his feet. His beard slick with your juices. He slips two fingers into your cunt and pumps them slowly. 

"Did so good, baby." He praises and you smile. You bite your lip and close your eyes as you take in James' thick fingers. They work you like magic, he knows you inside and out. 

"Are you gonna take my cock now sweetheart?" Logan purrs in your ear. 

"Tell me, what dirty fantasies do you have up there." Your breath catches in your throat as he cups your breasts in his hands. 

"Any positions you want to try? Face down ass up is always a favorite of mine, or I can put your legs on my shoulders and press you into the mattress." You moan just picturing each scenario in your head. 

"I can hold you against the wall. Bounce you on my cock so you're forced to take every inch of me.

"Even better, we can do all three." Logan lets go of you and nods his head, telling James to go sit down. James takes his fingers out and brings them to your lips, pushing them into your mouth as you suck on them like he trained you to do. 

"You okay?" James asks and you nod. 

"M'alright baby, are you okay?" You reach up and grab his hand, squeezing it gently. Is he still okay with this? If he's too uncomfortable you'd stop but he just smiles. He leans down and kisses your head, then moves to sit back down. 

"You've been talking a lot of shit bub." James says gruffly as Logan nudges his cock at your cunt. You're on your back with Logan pressing your hands into the mattress. 

"Don't worry old man, I'll take care of her." He slides in and you moan. He's going too slow, relishing with every inch.

"Faster!" You beg but Logan doesn't listen. Instead he pushes all the way in, balls deep and throbbing just being in your sweet cunt. 

"Oh fuck yeah." Logan purrs as he draws his hips back, slamming them back into you.

His pace is slow and hard. He watches your breasts bounce with each thrust, enjoying the way they move because of him. He's still got you pinned down and you want to move, you want to hold onto him as he fucks you but he won't let you. Logan's got stamina and it's clear as he doesn't let up. 

"Logan I-" He growls and pulls out much to your dismay. Manhandling you to your knees, grabbing your neck and forcing you to look right at James. You couldn't meet his eyes as Logan sinks back into you. 

"Ah ah, don't you want him to see how good you feel?" Logan says in a mocking tone. Smirking as he sees the fire lit in James' eyes.

"It's okay baby." James says as your head falls down to the comforter. Logan's just so big. He's overpowering all of your senses. He just keeps going and going. Logan tilts his head back as he digs his fingers into your hips. 

"Such a tight fucking cunt." He presses your face into the bed and grabs a handful of your ass. Pounding his hips into your pussy and loving every little noise he's fucking out of you. 

"She likes it when you choke her." James says, his breath ragged as he watches you get fucked. Logan chuckles and puts his hand around your neck.

"Of course she does, such a dirty little whore you got on your hands." His mouth is filthy, the degradation pouring from his mouth with ease.

James mixes his praise with his meanness but Logan is pure filth. The pressure on your throat sends you into fucking orbit. A fat cock pounding your sweet spot and rough hand on your throat is lethally delicious. You could die happy. 

"That's it, just let me use you sweetheart. Doesn't that sound fun? Being my little toy? Our little toy?" You look at James who's perked up at the mention of him, your cunt clenching around Logan's cock. 

"Oh that got you interested huh?" Logan teases. 

"You can be our plaything sweetheart, just nothing but a couple holes for us to use. Big man over here can stick his cock down your throat while I get the back." Logan rubs his hand along your ass, his thumb trailing down until its teasing your asshole. 

"He ever been in here before?" 

"O-Once." You mewl as he presses his thumb, not breeching you yet but knowing he could if he wanted to. 

"Is it as tight as her cunt?" He asks James. 

"Even tighter." James spreads his legs, he was getting hot. He sheds his jacket and unbuttons his white button up. Being this old and still ripped was so fucking unfair. His pants were already at his ankles and his cock was stirring just remembering that day.

How you cried and whined as he prepped you with his fingers. How fucking tight you felt when he slid his cock in. You were a mess, babbling and whining and begging to be ruined. James opens his eyes and sees you staring at him. Hunger in your eyes as you take in your handsome boyfriend. You may be getting fucked by another man but you only ever want James. 

“Maybe next time." Logan moves his hands back up your body.

He sits back on his knees. His hands come to your breasts and pull you up so your back is against his chest. His cock somehow sits deeper as he bounces his hips up and down, spearing his cock deeper and deeper. One of his arms wraps around your waist while the other plays with your breasts. 

"Logan!" You chant over and over. He's grunting in your ear whispering dirty things that only you can hear. 

"I know you're loving this sweetheart, you may love the old man but you love my cock more." You whine, words failing you as you try and talk. You start to go limp in Logan's grasp so he tightens his hold. 

"Come for me sweetheart, go on." He purrs as he lets go of your breasts to pleasure your clit. Rubbing small circles until you're squirming out of his grip, or trying to.

"It's okay, I got you." Logan whispers as you tilt your head back into his shoulder. 

Eyes rolling back as you fully submit to the man. Your legs shake uncontrollably as you come harder than you have in a while. He holds you up as you melt, your vision blurring as you're sent to cloud nine. You were clawing at his arms, digging your nails into him until he bleed which only made things better for Logan as he humps you like a crazed animal. Grunting and groaning. 

"Fuck!" He lets go of you to pull out, whimpering at the loss of your wet cunt.

He's rough with his hand as he jerks himself until he comes all over your back. Hot cum spurting from his cock and drenching itself on your skin. Your eyelids are heavy as you collapse into the bed, your body aches with a delicious sort of pain. With all the energy you could muster you glance over at James. He had cum staining his chest, breath ragged. He was worn out just from watching. 

"I love you." You say softly, reaching out for him. Your hand doesn't make it very far so he meets you halfway. His pants pulled up and cum still on his stomach. 

"Feel good baby?" He pets your head and you nod sleepily. Logan has gone off to take care of himself. Redressing into that god awful suit and coming back with a towel. 

"Can I?" He looks over at James who nods. Gently he wipes his cum off your back, cooing when he accidently stimulates your clit again. 

"Sorry sweetheart, just gotta get you nice and clean." Logan looks at James before leaning down and kissing your forehead.

James doesn't argue. Once you're cleaned up James tucks you into bed. He sits on the edge as you curl into his lap. Logan comes back with water and a towel for James. You're sound asleep by the time he's back. Logan smiles at you with a fondness that James can only recognize as love. 

"You know her." Logan looks up and shrugs. "Heard her say she was just a friend. You were lying." James continues. He knows Logan was lying because they're one in the same. They may not like each other but they knew each other better than anyone ever could, even you. 

"Look. You may think your life is fucking miserable but you had your family, you have her. You don't know how lucky you have it." Logan growls. 

"Lucky? You think becoming a shell of who we were is lucky?" James feels the anger surging inside of him. 

"At least she's alive in your world." Logan hisses. The truth comes out. Why Logan worked you like he already knew you, why he looked at you with such sad eyes. Why he listened to you. James caught all of it from the start but you never did. He looks down at you and you barely stir. 

"What happens to us, in the future?" James asks while staring at you. Timelines don't need two of the same man and he knows that. He just needs to hear it. "I don't think I'm supposed to say." Logan mumbles. 

"Who fucking cares?" Sighing Logan looks over at you before revealing the truth. 

"You die and your world starts to fall apart, that's why I got pulled into it."

James knew that death was coming. He could feel it. He had been slowly dying his whole life. That's not what bothers him. There's only one thing holding him back in being ready for the end. You. He can't leave you alone but it sounds like he does anyway. Failing you once again. 

"What about her? Is she okay?" 

"Yes.” James nods, he doesn’t ask what happens. He doesn’t want to know. As long as you’re okay then that��s all that matters. 

“Take care of her. Please.” James asks, for once letting Logan see his gruff façade break. 

It feels like an odd request. Both of them know it, but he wants you to be safe and protected and no one will love you more than him. In any timeline, any universe, he loves you. 

“I will.” Logan promises.

The two of them don’t share many words after that. It’s not like they’re suddenly friends now but they’re less hostile towards each other.

Eventually the strange yellow portal appears once again and Logan leaves. The time he spent here feels like a fever dream. Maybe it was? But you notice that James holds you a little tighter for a little longer now. He also rests a little easier. He knows where he’s headed, what’s to come.

But its a little easier knowing that no matter what, you’ll always have him. 

[leona-hawthorne]

FICMAS #8— HE’S MINE! / mattheo riddle

december 23rd

mattheo riddle x fem reader

summary: it seems to be a little hard to get into the christmas spirit when your little sister is hogging your boyfriend!

warnings: fluff, established relationship

words: 1.4k

a/n: i love this one tbh :)

navigation ficmas masterlist

It had been your idea to bring Mattheo home for Christmas. Of course it had. You’d argued for it, certain your parents wouldn’t mind—and they didn’t. In fact, they’d been surprisingly enthusiastic about it. They liked Mattheo, for one, and they knew enough about his home life—or lack thereof—to see why he might need an escape for the holidays. Besides, the thought of leaving him behind in that cold, empty manor while you went off to bake cookies and trim trees with your family felt unbearable.  

What you hadn’t planned for was your little sister.  

The moment she saw Mattheo, her eyes went wide, her lips parted in a tiny gasp, and for once, she didn’t have a single smart remark. You’d expected her usual groaning protest of Ew, boys are gross or Whatever, he’s probably boring. But instead, she just stood there staring up at him, as though he were some sort of fairy tale prince who’d stepped straight out of one of her bedtime stories.  

“Hey,” Mattheo had said gently, crouching down to her level. He had that rare, soft smile on his face—the one he reserved only for you, and apparently now, six-year-old girls. “You must be the famous little sister. I’ve heard all about you.”  

Her face had turned scarlet, and she’d ducked behind your leg, clutching your jeans for dear life. You’d raised an eyebrow at Mattheo, trying to stifle a laugh. Well, this is new. 

From then on, it was as though she’d claimed him. Every time you turned around, there she was, dragging him off for some new adventure. At first, it was cute. Endearing, even. She’d taken him by the hand to show him the ornaments she’d made for the tree, chattering on about how she’d painted the reindeer one herself. He’d listened patiently, nodding and smiling as though her ramblings were the most fascinating thing he’d ever heard.  

But then it escalated.  

By the second day, you found them at her little pink tea table, tiny porcelain cups in hand. Mattheo’s long legs were awkwardly folded beneath him as he pretended to sip imaginary tea. You’d leaned in the doorway, arms crossed, biting your lip to keep from laughing.  

“Really?” you’d asked, grinning. “A tea party?”  

“She made me a very convincing argument,” Mattheo replied, deadpan, though the corners of his mouth twitched with amusement. “Also, I think this is her way of letting me know who’s in charge here.”  

You’d laughed then, shaking your head, but something about the way your sister beamed up at him had made you pause.  

It wasn’t long before her demands grew bolder. She’d roped him into baking cookies—flour dusted all over his dark jumper—and insisted he give her a piggyback ride around the house. And though Mattheo obliged her every request with good-natured patience, you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of annoyance.

Because every time you tried to steal a moment alone with him, she was already there, wedged firmly between the two of you.  

On the third day, you figured maybe it was time to steal back your boyfriend.

“Where is he?” you muttered, stalking through the house. The smell of gingerbread lingered in the air, and somewhere, you could hear your sister’s giggles echoing down the hall.  

You found them in the living room. She was perched on Mattheo’s back, her little arms wrapped tightly around his neck as he crawled on all fours, pretending to be a dragon.  

“Really?” you said, crossing your arms as you stood in the doorway.  

Mattheo glanced up at you, his curls falling into his eyes. He was grinning. “What?”  

“She’s hogging you,” you said, your voice teetering on the edge of a whine.  

“She’s six,” he replied, raising an eyebrow. “You jealous of a six-year-old?”  

“What? No, I just– you know what? You two have fun, I’m gonna go help my mom with wrapping.”

And by the fourth day, you’d had enough.  

You didn’t know whether to scoff or to smile as you watched Mattheo from the doorway of the kitchen. He stood at the counter, sleeves rolled up, flour dusting his dark shirt as he helped your little sister roll out sugar cookie dough. His hands were comically large compared to hers, yet he moved with such careful precision, as if afraid to crush her tiny fingers by accident.

Your sister giggled, a sound that echoed through the space like a bell, and your chest tightened at how easily Mattheo coaxed that sound from her. It was endearing—no, more than endearing. It was heartwarming. But also…infuriating.

You stepped into the room, leaning against the counter as you folded your arms. “How’s it going in here?”

Mattheo glanced up at you, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “It’s going great. We’re making masterpieces, aren’t we, kid?”

Your sister nodded vigorously, her pigtails bouncing as she beamed up at him. “Mattheo says my snowman looks perfect!”

You raised a brow, biting back a smile. “Perfect, huh? Even though his head is sliding off his body?”

Mattheo chuckled, brushing a streak of flour off his arm. “It’s an abstract snowman,” he said smoothly, turning back to the dough. “He’s got character.”

Your sister giggled again, clearly thrilled by his attention, and you felt the beginnings of that familiar pang of annoyance. You’d invited Mattheo here for you, not so he could spend every waking moment entertaining your sister.

“Right,” you said, stepping closer and nudging him lightly with your hip. “Well, I’m stealing him now. We were supposed to watch a movie, remember?”

Mattheo looked over at you, his dark eyes sparkling with amusement. “Baby, are you jealous of a six-year-old?”

Your mouth opened, indignation flaring to life, but before you could respond, your sister tugged on his sleeve. “Wait! We still have to make the reindeer cookies! You promised!”

Mattheo crouched slightly, bringing himself to her level as he smiled at her. “And we’ll make those, I swear. But your big sister’s giving me that look, and I think I’d better listen to her before she drags me out of here.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the way your lips twitched upward. “I’m not giving you a look.”

“Oh, you’re giving me a look,” he teased, standing to his full height and brushing his hands off on a towel. He leaned closer, lowering his voice so only you could hear. “You’re practically glaring at me. I’d almost say it’s cute.”

“Don’t push your luck, Riddle,” you muttered, though your cheeks burned at the way his breath ghosted against your skin.

Your sister pouted, crossing her arms. “But Mattheo—”

“I’ll be back,” he promised her, giving her a playful wink. “And when I am, we’ll make the best reindeer cookies anyone’s ever seen. Deal?”

She huffed, clearly not pleased, but she nodded anyway, her pout softening.

You grabbed Mattheo’s wrist, tugging him toward the living room before your sister could protest again. “Come on. You’re mine, remember?”

He let you pull him away, laughing softly under his breath. Once you reached the living room, you rounded on him, poking a finger at his chest. “You’re supposed to be spending time with me. Me, Mattheo. Not my sister. Me.”

“Is this really happening right now?” he asked, smirking down at you. “You’re actually jealous of a six-year-old.”

“Okay, first of all, I’m not jealous,” you shot back, though your words sounded more defensive than you intended. “I just don’t like sharing, especially when it’s you. And second, it’s not my fault she suddenly decided she loves boys after swearing for years that they had cooties!”

Mattheo grinned, his hands coming up to rest on your hips. “So what you’re saying is…I’m irresistible.”

You groaned, dropping your face into your hands. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you love me anyway.”

You peeked at him through your fingers, finding his gaze soft and affectionate, his smirk less teasing now and more genuine. Your frustration melted away as quickly as it had come, replaced by a warm, fluttery feeling in your chest.

“Yeah,” you admitted, dropping your hands and stepping closer to him. “I do.”

“And for the record,” he murmured, leaning down until his lips brushed your temple, “I’m yours. Always.”

​​ficmas taglist: @winnie1emon @ur-local-wizard @satosugu4-ever @ankoluvs @superstargirll @slytherin-princess-x @abeoavita @mattheoriddle101 @georgiastars13 @smoooore @mattheoriddles-sluttt @2dloveshp @mattysprincess @catching-fire-in-the-wind @revesephemeres @esmerai-artemis @clar2aa @iamaconfusedpan

[gay-dorito-dust]

Could we please have a batboys (and Bruce) x reader who can break the 4th wall?

This was rubbish.

Dick

Would rest his head on your shoulder and ask. ‘Who are you talking to sweetheart?’

He genuinely wants to know considering the first thing he heard was you talking back his beautiful back and perfect thighs, only to find that you were saying all this to no one in particular.

‘Oh just the lovely people reading this.’ You tell him happily and Dick would only see the walls of your shared room.

‘And what are they saying?’ Dick would then say.

‘Oh I can’t hear them, nor can I really see them exactly but I just have this feeling that we are being watched -or read in this case- by many people, I can sense them and i want them to feel included in my love life with the most beautiful man Gotham has to offer.’ You tell him as you kiss him on the cheek, making him smile.

‘Well as long as they know that I am taken by you, then we’ll be okay.’ Dick replied as he kissed your forehead sweetly. Dick at first though you were just the type to talk to yourself like some people, but seeing as how it seemed as though you were more or less addressing someone rather then just talking to yourself, Dick then assumed that you might have an ability that allows you to look past this reality and into another one entirely that might be looking into this one.

It was a scary thought to think that he was being watched ,or read as you put it, by another reality but it was intriguing nonetheless the less that there was a possibility of multiple dimensions. So he could only imagine what you were able to experience if you were able to see beyond this reality to address people who probably saw him in a different form entirely.

If anything he’s extremely curious as to how your ability worked exactly as it was something that was clearly unheard of. Somedays you would address the audience as per usual but other times you didn’t address them at all, almost as though you knew where and when they’ll pay attention to you both: all so that you could entertain them for as long as possible without it coming across as excessive or too long winded.

He would try to act like he could see them too as to not have you feeling so alone, but would get flustered when you tell him that he was looking the wrong way.

He’ll leave the fourth wall breaking to you instead and will be nosy and ask all sorts of questions about your ability, all before saying that your powers was the most coolest he’s come across, but you knew he was only saying that because you were his beloved partner but that didn’t make what he said any less true.

Jason

Would raise a brow at first but would keep this tendency to himself out of a need to protect you from those who’d gladly send you away for such tendency.

Jason isn’t phased by much but you talking to a wall as though someone was there brought a weird feeling to his chest.

‘His thighs? Perfect. His stomach and autopsy scars? Delicious. Arms, hands and back? Gorgeous but all of you at home are already aware of that and could only imagine how plush his tits are-‘

‘Who are you talking to chipmunk?’ He’d ask, cutting you off as he expected you to be on the phone to someone, so imagine to his surprise when he saw your phone on charge and you were in fact talking to thin air.

‘Just the people thirsting after you.’ You’d reply as though it was common sense.

‘Thirsting?’ Jason tried the word, not liking how it sounded coming from his mouth. ‘What’s that?’

‘Just think of it as another word for desire, but they can’t have you because in their reality you’re a fictional character who gets the short end of the stick constantly by people who don’t know what to do with you in general.’ You shrugged as you looked over at him with a smile. ‘Also you get stereotyped as someone you’re not by people who obviously lack a capacity for reading given how short their attention span is.’ The last part was muttered under your breath before bringing the conversation back to him.

‘Enough about me how about you honey?’

It wasn’t the first time you’ve done this and Jason knew it wouldn’t be the last either as he would find you passionately ranting to your invisible audience about something, and while it was cute to watch you be this passionate, he also became concerned for you in case you were going through something that you didn’t want to burden him with out of a need to protect yourself.

‘You can tell me if you’re going through something you know that right?’ He’d tell you one night as he holds your face in his hands.

‘Of course I do jaybird,’ you whispered to him before watching him as he fell asleep, only to move your head elsewhere to speak to the wall. ‘Isn’t he the cutest? Truly a man unlike any other, a dying breed if you will, but I can assure you dear readers that you too will find your Jason Todd because that’s what you all deserve in life is to be loved deeply by an non-judgmental and caring man.’ You fished before joining him in your sleep.

Tim

He thinks your maladaptive daydreaming.

What else was he meant to take away from you talking to seemingly no one so passionately as you did in that moment.

He didn’t want to say that you were insane but it wasn’t everyday where a sane person would idly make conversation with thin air or a brick wall as casually as you did.

That or you were extremely lacking in sleep and were now seeing things, if that was the case then he would be able to relate to you as he had those types of days also, more often then others that’s for sure but from what Tim could tell was far from the truth as you looked bright and too well rested for that to be the answer.

And honestly? He doesn’t want to know who exactly you were talking to as not to frighting himself shitless and would act as though you talking to a crowd of no one within your shared room was completely normal in Gotham.

God forbid you start talking to this unseen audience during the night, Tim will think he’s in some sort of horror movie that he was forced to watch with the rest of his family on Halloween. Seriously who knew fourth wall breaking could come across as though you were demonically possessed?

He wants to ask who you’re talking to, he really does but if he was running low on fumes that day, really tired and wanting nothing more then sleep he would forgo all logic and just agree with what you were saying to thin air.

‘I wish I could tell you just how mean Tim can be when he’s sleep deprived, you think you know sarcasm? Wait until Tim is on about two hours of sleep and then you’ll know true sarcasm.’ You’d say.

‘Says the one who’s talking to the wall as though it had ears to listen or a mouth to respond.’ He’d replied.

‘See what Im on about? Absolutely mean when he’s sleep deprived.’ He would hear you whisper aloud but he was on the verge of falling asleep against the table to find out the true reason to your uncanny ability to break the fourth wall.

Damian

Genuinely thought something was off with how often you would look off into the distance, as though you were addressing someone he couldn’t see, like a hidden camera that lead to an unseen audience.

‘Isn’t he the cutest when he’s acting all tough,’ he’d her you say, ‘it’s like if you give a rabid chihuahua a knife but ten times worse because he can actually back up his deeply descriptive threats.’ Damian’s brow would raise at this as he watched you silently as his mind wondered who you could possibly be entertaining with such things.

Gotham has an ability to make the most strong minded person break and needles to say Damian would keep silent watch over you while you had these kinds of episodes, even when you would proudly praise his artistic skills but never to him directly, but more so to seemingly thin air with a beaming smile.

‘He’s got a future as many things and in all honestly I’m envious of how multitalented my Dami is, but at least I get to be his hype man and cheer for him no matter what, which is something I bet half of you which you could have but here I am loving your fantasy!’ You’d finish with a cackle and it left Damian smiling to himself at your pride towards him, but also still very curious as to who it was you were talking to.

‘Who are you talking to.’ He would ask you one day.

‘The audience reading this fic.’ You’d reply as though it was the most casual thing to bring up in conversation.

Damian’s brows furrowed. ‘Audience? What audience.’ He tried looking in the same direction as you, only to see nothing but his bed.

‘Oh I don’t expect you to see them but they are there,’ you tried to reassure Damian but it only came off as ominous and albeit cryptic, ‘they are always there, watching.’ You’d add and needles to say your words only made Damian go into a defensive posture at the aspect of being spectated by beings only you could seemingly engage with.

Well done you’ve made Damian somewhat paranoid as to what this audience you speak to wanted, what they wanted with you to have you keep engaging in conversation with them and what they could be planning.

‘Always watching?’ Damian asked.

‘Yep,’ you replied, ‘but not when we’re in the bathroom, that’s just really weird but other then that we are merely entertainment for them to consume on days of boredom and to grow a parasocial relationship with us to their leisure.’ You added and when you looked over at Damian, his jade eyes were wide and you winced internally, wishing you hadn’t said anything at all because now you’d knew Damian would start reaching for his sword out of instinct now.

Try and tell him it’s a joke as much as you like but Damian would now take your ability to break the fourth wall as a sign that someone was out there, watching all of you, an invisible enemy that he couldn’t kill and it pissed him off. He’ll break you free of the curse…sooner or later.

Bruce

‘That man is finer than a mother fucker and he knows it. And I know damn well all you thirsty bitches are making edits of my sexy Bruce to the song of older by Isabel LaRosa. I just know it you absolute sluts, but I can’t blame you because I would too.’ Bruce had just finished showering and the first thing he sees is you seemingly talking to a wall as though you were talking to a group of people in a whole different plan of existence.

He’s seen a lot of things in his time as Batman but someone talking to people who aren’t there? He’d assume you’re either clairvoyant or have another ability that can allow you to talk to an audience of people whom he can’t see, for whatever it was wouldn’t change Bruce’s opinion on you, powers or not.

‘My darling.’ He’d greet you as he holds you from behind. ‘May I ask why and or who you were speaking so passionately about me to?’ He adds.

‘The people reading this fanfic.’ You’d tell him as though it was a completely normal thing to admit as it was something you had been doing for as long as you could remember. Your parents thought you were talking to an invisible friend like other kids your age, but it grew concerning when you were still talking to no one in particular well into your late teens.

Bruce just raised a brow but would assume that you had some ability that you weren’t comfortable to admit to him, and he didn’t want you to feel pressured to talk to him about such a thing, especially not if you had admitted to someone in the past before and their reactions were negative.

He would just try and look deeper into this sort of thing in hopes of finding any pre-existing information about anyone showing similar signs as you and reading it deeply and intensively so that he could be well informed to know what you were going through. Bruce loves to be educated on things that he didn’t understand with the hopes of understanding it on a deeper level, so if he did managed to find something that perfectly describes what you were doing, then he’ll be reading it until he could recite it in his sleep.

He didn’t want you to feel as though you should be ashamed of your unique ability and would often take notes and things that he’d noticed you do as you addressed the invisible audiences in vivid detail. Your ability to see into another reality or anything similar to talk to people was a powerful thing to have and Bruce was fascinated by such a unique power, a power that could prove that alternate realities exist.

But Bruce would find himself intrigued with how you talked to this invisible audiences, almost as though you were greeting an old friend, whether or not this was your way to cope with the fact that you could sense an audience watching your every move and leave no privacy to be had for yourself. It was unfortunately something Bruce wasn’t quite sure but until your ability was causing you harm he would contour to watch and observe while acting as though he was unaware/ unfazed of your tendency to talking to seemingly no one.

Basically reader: you should know this too

[anashins]

Too Hot for Snow

Pairing: Jaehyun x reader x Jaemin

Genre: angst, drama, romance, smut, love triangle

Word Count: 17k

Warnings: There are two smut scenes with the same mc, but nothing that really needs a tw. If you aren't here for him, you can skip them without missing out on anything tho! The other mc won't come short in terms of romance either, trust the process! But it's a bittersweet ending.

Summary: When your husband decides to file for divorce, you find yourself back in the arms of your first love. After all, things are different now and you're not kids anymore. But after a weekend lost in heavy snowfall and wishful dreams, you come to the painful realization that some people don't want to change, and others change too much.

A/N: I wrote this inspired by my own experience from a time where I had to decide between my situationship and now-bf. I thought I could pass this message on to ones who need this as well. Sometimes, we make the right decisions, sometimes the wrong ones. Sometimes, it's too late, sometimes it's not. (Also, I miss Jaehyun :( D-497)

Three years. That was how long your marriage had lasted.

“I want a divorce.”

These words shouldn’t surprise let alone hurt you - but they still did. After all, nothing could prepare you for the day your husband decided to divorce you.

You had talked about it before Jaehyun had moved out and mutually agreed on seriously thinking about an official separation while taking this six month break from each other. 

Yet, hearing this final decision out loud from your own husband’s lips made it real. And even though it had been foreseeable and up to a point even inevitable, you hadn’t been prepared for reality, for the fact that now, this was indeed real.

Your husband didn’t want to be married to you any longer. 

How was that even possible?

We walk down the aisle, thinking it will be forever. Donned in our white gown, the veil in our hair and the flower bouquet close to our chest, we are full of hope, light and love for the person who awaits us by the altar. 

“Till death do us part” is considered the love line of our lives as we all desire to vow it one day to our partner.

But thinking about it, it sounds morbid. We stand in front of witnesses and promise to the heavens that it will literally take a terminal illness, a fatal accident or another forced act of nature to tear this love apart. 

The painful truth is that it takes much, much less.

It often takes minimal profound, heroic and inspiring reasons for two married people to never look at each other again. Oftentimes, love doesn’t get torn apart by death. It gets torn apart by pent-up arguments, lack of commitment and the belief that everything you already own still isn’t enough.

“What about Kang Kang?”

Your throat was so dry, you didn’t even recognize your own voice, and Jaehyun ran his fingers through his hair. He had dark circles under his eyes and his clothes were wrinkled, hair completely askew. 

There had been a time, back then in university, where on weekends, you both had looked like that, but for entirely different reasons. You were just staying at home, playing games and watching movies together. It had been the best and most carefree time of your lives. The strict business man Jaehyun had turned into throughout the years would have never left the house looking like this.

At this moment, you could see your past boyfriend in your husband again, who you had long deemed missing, and you wondered where you both had taken the wrong turn in your once fairytale-like relationship.

“He’s your dog on paper,” Jaehyun said nearly matter-of-factly. “You can keep Kang Kang.”

You bit into your bottom lip, so hard that you swore you could nearly taste something metallic. “Is this your final decision?”

In the break of the second that he needed to answer, you grew hopeful again. Hopeful that your husband would admit this decision was wrong, that he wanted to work on things for you two to be happy again.

Because this was the conclusion you had come to last night. You didn’t want a divorce, you didn’t want to give this all up. You wanted your little family, you wanted your husband and your dog, and children of your own in the future.

But instead, Jaehyun said with a tired, but determined voice,

“It’s my final decision.”

____

If Jaehyun were a season, he’d be summer. 

He was the feeling of getting woken up by sunshine tickling the tip of your nose. He was the salt on your skin when you emerged from the sea, the sand beneath your toes and the water dripping from your hair tips. He was the shade under a tree on sweltering days and flowers blooming in all colors.

He was everything good, fair and bright.

… Until summer vanished and you were left alone when seasons changed. It didn’t only become clear by change in weather, but also by the fact that Jaehyun had taken every last piece of himself out of your once shared apartment.

By the next week, he had officially filed for divorce. 

Summer had come to an end.

____

If Jaemin were a season, he’d be winter.

He was the feeling of thick sweaters when you got dressed on a cold day. He was the sound of snow crunching under your boots, the cup of hot chocolate you drank while watching the icebound lake. He was the snowstorm that came overnight and locked you in, causing chaos and destruction.

Jaemin was charming, tempting and dangerous.

But who, after a hot, sweltering summer, had never not anticipated a beautiful winter wonderland?

Luckily, winter came early that year.

____

“Why are you calling me at this hour?”

You stared at the skyline stretching in front of you. The few cars passing by were only recognizable by their headlights, but apart from that as well as a handful of windows reflecting some light in the building across from you, it was a quiet and dark night, the clock showing 3am.

“Why are you picking up?” you asked.

A light hearted laughter that made your heart jump followed. “I will always pick up when you call, you know that.”

“I know.”

A beat of silence passed by as you opened the balcony door and stepped outside, closing it again behind you. You turned your head to the sky and watched the moon, and you knew Jaemin was doing the same right now. 

“Did you already sign and send out the papers?” Jaemin questioned.

“Yes,” you answered, and as you spoke, you could see a small cloud forming in front of your face. “They are at my lawyer’s now to get checked. So perhaps, by next week, his lawyer will get them and send them out to him to sign too. Then, I’ll be a divorcée.”

“Don’t use that word.”

“Why not?”

“It sounds like you’ll be a lonely, sad woman.”

“Well, if anything, I’ll be a lonely, sad dog-mom.” Your gaze wandered aside to the balcony door from where you could see Kang Kang sleeping peacefully on this dog bed in the very corner of the living room.

“You’re neither going to be a lonely, sad woman nor a lonely, sad dog-mom. You’re going to be free. You should be happy.”

“I can only be happy with you.”

Jaemin let out a chuckle that came in unison with a cool winter breeze grazing your skin, and only now you noticed how icy it actually was outside, only dressed in your pajamas and a bathrobe. But right now, you didn’t mind the cold. You only tried to remember the last time you had felt so… like Jaemin had said… happy. 

It had been half a year since Jaehyun had come to you to file for a divorce and already a full year since you had actually started living in separation. That was enough time to move forward when you had been long unhappy before.

You could finally quit pretending, quit fighting, quit caring. You had finally reconnected with the man you had always referred to as your first love, willing to start all over again with him.

Then why, when you looked at the night sky, the only thing your mind wandered back to was still the night Jaehyun had proposed to you?

Back then, he had just graduated from university and you had been working in your job for two years already. He had saved up all the money that he had earned while being enlisted to buy you the perfect engagement ring that was now kept hidden in your drawer along with the wedding band. A very beautiful ring that had once been a symbol for a very beautiful relationship.

His proposal had taken place under the night sky too, in privacy like you had wished for, with only the moon and stars as witnesses. It had hurt to look at the night sky for a very long time after your separation. But it didn’t anymore now, it was more of a nostalgic feeling.

As though Jaemin could read your thoughts, he said, “Don’t worry, when we get married, we don’t have to go through a divorce, I’ll get you an even more striking ring.”

“Stop joking.”

“I’m not joking,” he obliged. “I mean it.”

“Jaemin…” You swallowed, hard. “What are you even saying?”

“I’m saying,” you overheard him taking a deep breather, “if I had done things right the first time, we would have stayed together after high school and you would have gotten married to me instead, and you wouldn’t need to go through all this now.”

You both knew that this wasn’t true. 

There had been grave things that had led to the downfall of your first relationship and you into the arms of your soon-to-be ex-husband. Things that had been totally out of your might to control as you had been so young. But that was long in the past and you had both grown enough as people to pick up where you had left off and do it better this time. 

After all, Jaemin was your first love. That meant something, that was something special.

You sighed. “We were only kids. But now we’re adults. We now have the chance to do it better than back then, Jaemin, and that means to always be honest with each other.”

“I mean every word I said.”

You felt your heart turn heavy. “But for me, it means that I don’t think I will be ready to get married again in the next few years. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about that.” His light-hearted laughter took the weight from your chest at an instant. That was what had always fascinated you about Jaemin. Everything seemed so easy and carefree with him. “I’ll wait. One year, two years, five years, ten years… I’ll wait until you’re ready again.”

“Back then, you never wanted to get married and always dreamed about getting famous, moving to America....” You only then realized that it could be taken as an insult and wanted to correct yourself quickly, but he preempted, 

“Back then, I chose foolishness over commitment. But this time, I mean it and I will come get you next week.”

“Get me?” You raised a brow. “To where?”

“To Jeonju."

“To do what?”

“To be with me.”

“I can’t move to Jeonju so suddenly, Jaemin. I have a job here, my apartment, my dog, my family, especially my grandma…”

“Then only for the weekend. Bring Kang Kang with you. And the rest, we’ll figure it out together.”

Silence from your end, but he was being patient. “Do you mean it?”

“I mean it this time too. It’s been two weeks since we’ve last seen each other and we only met twice overall since back then. I know there is so much going on in your life right now, but I need more of you. And you could need a break from your daily life. So come to me.”

A romantic weekend in Jaemin’s home in Jeonju sounded exactly like what you needed right now. 

So you answered, “Okay, let’s do it.”

You were looking forward to winter.

____

The first family gathering without your husband took place two days later, the weekend before you planned on leaving for your short trip to Jeonju.

You had informed your mother about your separation two weeks after the official decision via a text message, very short and dry. You hadn’t wanted to speak to anyone as to why and when, ignoring all upcoming calls from every family member since the news had spread like wildfire. It had been hard enough the first time already when you had to explain why your husband had moved out. You couldn’t do this all over again.

Not because you were rude. But because you were still hurting and you feared that speaking about it stirred up feelings you had long locked up deep inside your heart. Only now, you were ready to face everyone again. Because half a year later, you were fine again.

Your big family adored Jaehyun so much, especially your grandmother, so you still met her with a heavy heart. To her, Jaehyun had been the perfect grandson-in-law, everything she had ever wished for you, and the feeling had been mutual since you had rarely seen your own relatives act with your grandmother as closely as Jaehyun had.

Whenever you had visited, he had brought her gifts, helped her with the chores and told her stories that made her laugh her heart out. Nobody else had done all this with such sincerity and continuity as Jaehyun, and it broke your heart to know that you had robbed her of this experience forever.

Your grandmother was celebrating her 80th birthday that Saturday, and with her declining health you didn’t know for how many more birthdays she could still be around, so you wanted to spend the remaining time with her, even if it was only you alone.

“How are you doing, sweetheart?”

You were sitting on the couch in her living room while everyone else was still dining, chatting and laughing.

“I think I’m doing quite fine.” 

“Are you sure?”

She reached out her weak, fragile hand and touched your cheek. You started to wonder when your grandmother had aged so much. The woman who had watched over you when you were still a child, had driven you to school, had made you food, and had let you spend the weekends with her. The one who had dried your tears when you had gotten your heart broken in school, who had picked up every single broken piece of you throughout the years.

She couldn’t do all that anymore, but she still could tell how you were feeling just by taking a brief look at you.

You couldn’t deceive your grandmother, so you just shrugged and her hand slipped from your cheek right into yours, squeezing it meekly. 

“It’s alright to still mourn him, sweetheart. If, at some point in your life, you realize that you have made the wrong decision, don’t hesitate for a single second and tell him.”

“What do you mean?”

You didn’t believe in the term ‘the one that got away’ which people would commonly use to describe a lost lover they were still thinking about all the time. You believed that you could grow to love someone just as much as you could grow to stop loving someone. If humans could never move on, how were they supposed to continue living?

“Your grandfather…” Around your grandmother’s thin lips played a mild smile that gave her face back something very youthful. “He was and will always be the love of my life. I married him young and I stayed loyal to him until he passed away. I loved him with my whole heart and he was the only person that had ever evoked such feelings inside of me.”

It tightened around your chest as it reminded you painfully of Jaehyun.

“But there was a time before our marriage,” your grandmother continued, and although the smile around her lips was still present, it wasn’t quite merry anymore, but rather pained, “where we were separated, because we didn’t know whether we should get married or not. There was still so much to see in the world, so many people to get to know. Why would we settle so early? So we decided we wouldn’t.”

“Grandma, you never told me that.” You squeezed her hand back to comfort her.

“I got back with my first ever love from when I was still a teenager. The timing was just right, we both seemed to have evolved so much. Maybe fate wanted us to take this path and meet again much later.”

Now, warmth grew in your heart as it reminded you of Jaemin. 

You had gotten to know each in the second year of high school when he transferred to your school, and the two years that followed was a whirlwind of ups and downs that, looking back at, you wouldn’t have wanted to miss a single second of. After all, it had forged you into the person you were now, and also into the one that had met Jaehyun and had now led you back to Jaemin. 

But you feared your story would separate from your grandmother’s at this point. “How did you then end up with grandpa?”

You now understood why your grandmother was wearing that expression. It wasn’t a fully happy core memory anymore, nor a completely sad one either. It was bittersweet. “It didn’t work out the second time around as well.”

“...May I ask why? You sounded so happy. What happened?” It wasn’t like you wanted to push her boundaries, you were genuinely curious as you secretly found yourself in a similar position now.

“When one day, I returned home, I encountered your grandfather by my house. Apparently, he had waited two days and nights for me and refused to leave unless I talked to him. So I did and he officially proposed. I wanted a week to think about this, and when I, following this event, wanted my first love to make a decision, he couldn’t.”

“He didn't want to marry you?”

“Even after all these years, he didn’t know whether he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me. And I wanted a man that knew.” 

You inhaled deeply. “And you never went back to your first love.”

“I never went back to him,” she repeated. “Not because I didn’t love him, but because I knew your grandfather would show up in ways he could never. And that was what I wanted.”

You were asking yourself whether your grandmother told you this story on purpose. But then again, she never did anything without a purpose. She wanted you to learn something from it, and it actually hurt you quite a bit that she was questioning your decision.

“I don’t regret it. Do you regret it, grandma?”

“I don’t regret anything either, sweetheart, absolutely not.” You were worried that she might conceal the truth from you, but from her voice alone and the way her mien changed to the one she was always wearing when she talked lovingly about your grandfather, you were assured that she was being honest and always had been. “Sometimes, I still think about him and wonder where he is, what he’s doing if he’s still al-... And it’s normal. Sometimes, I wonder what if. But if I could turn back time, I wouldn’t have chosen differently.”

Your grandmother’s gaze wandered to the coffee table where you spotted something very familiar for the first time since you had arrived: a pink bouquet consisting of different summer flower arrangements. The one Jaehyun and you usually got together and brought over to your grandmother whenever you visited.

This time, you hadn’t had time to bring anything, and admittedly it had also slipped your mind completely. Yet, the very same bouquet was standing there on the coffee table.

“Jaehyun was here?” you breathed.

She nodded. “This morning.”

You weren't surprised. This was typical of Jaehyun. He always thought about others first, never missing an event, always reliant and considerate. With your own mind always wandering, you had very much relied on him and he had never complained about taking matters into his own hands.

“Grandma, I-” You didn’t know why your heart suddenly felt so heavy.

“I’m not telling you what to do, sweetheart. I’m just wondering if nowadays, before a couple decides to divorce, they have already given everything. There is a reason you were married in the first place. That’s all. That is something you should always think of.”

Yes, you had given everything, every day and minute of your marriage. 

When Jaehyun had stayed for work longer, then worked during the weekends and then rarely came home anymore. When you had started to feel lonely, not appreciated and unheard of your feelings. When, every time you had still seen each other, every minor thing led to an argument where one of you needed to leave the house. 

You had tried, over and over again. 

“I have given it my all, grandma. I have.”

“If you can confidently say that, then move on, sweetheart.”

____

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

You followed Jaehyun into his new apartment, Kang Kang passing by you. He was jumping up and down, circling around Jaehyun like the happy labrador he was. As you had figured out, there were no dogs allowed in Jaemin’s apartment, so you had asked Jaehyun to take care of him this specific weekend.

You wondered whether it was selfish of you and quickly came to the conclusion that yes, it was, and cruel on top of that too. That was why you hid the truth from your soon-to-be ex-husband and had told him you had work in Jeonju this weekend and no other family could take Kang Kang. At least the latter was the truth as you had earnestly tried it everywhere before, but to no avail.

At least, you knew Kang Kang was in good hands, and he hadn’t seen his human dad in so long either. You put your dog’s belongings in the living room, which consisted of his bed, a few toys, his bowls and other necessities.

“Don’t you have to work this weekend, though?” you asked Jaehyun politely. 

You still didn’t know how to behave in front of him whenever you had to interact. This was actually the third time you met since your official separation half a year ago with the first two being the time he had to pack his stuff and move out completely. How did one interact with the person you were soon to be called ex-husband?

You were nervous and anxious, but also somehow happy to see him, because you hadn’t seen each other in three months. Jaehyun was still Jaehyun, he hadn’t changed. You wondered whether he was dating someone new now too, though.

“I actually requested time off this weekend when I knew Kang Kang would come,” he answered almost nonchalantly. “Do you want something to drink? I’m sorry, I only have water.”

You weren’t sure whether the water would help the lump that had built in your throat to disappear, so you declined. And just like that, Jaehyun had requested an entire weekend off when you had had begged him in the past to do so over and over again. You were hurt, once again, and it showed all over your face. 

“I’ve started a new job, actually,” he quickly explained, but you didn’t know whether it would make it all better, truth to be told. “Less salary, but since I’m living alone now, it’s fine. They still pay well enough and I have more time to myself.”

You deadpanned, “Good for you.”

It shouldn’t bother you anymore, it really shouldn’t. But you couldn’t shake off the fact that Jaehyun had changed his work and lifestyle almost so easily right after separating from you when he hadn’t been able to do exactly that while still with you. What had hindered him all this time?

Jaehyun, sensing already where this conversation would lead to since you had been there over and over again in the past, quickly changed the topic. “How is your grandma?” 

You unpacked Kang Kang’s stuff while he arranged the bed for him where he thought your dog would like it. 

“Quit playing, I know you visited her.”

He let out a shy laugh. “Did she tell you? I purposely told her not to.”

“She didn’t have to, really. I saw the flowers and knew immediately.”

You turned around to him, and even from the side, while he was kneeling down and petted Kang Kang, you perceived how shy he had gotten as his ears had turned slightly red. 

“I was worried about her since she hasn’t been feeling well these past months. So I wanted to check up on her. I didn’t want to break tradition, you know. Yet.”

“I know,” you admitted and quietly added, “Thank you for that.”

“I hope she’ll get better soon.”

He shifted in your direction and smiled, and this reaction made you longing for easier times where you didn't have to deal with the fact that this was the last time he had seen your grandmother.

Had you been too greedy, wanting too much that he hadn’t been willing to or couldn’t give yet? Had you pressured him too much and driven him away instead? Should you have been more patient with him and supported him, even though you hadn’t condoned any of his actions? Had it only been a rough patch and you would have come over it by now? 

Those were questions to which you would probably never get an answer. It was all too late now anyway. The papers were signed from your side.

“Jaehyun…” you whispered and wondered whether he had heard it as he suddenly interrupted you with,

“Ah, I’m sorry but you have to leave now.” He arose from the crouch and scratched the back of his head. “I actually have a visitor over the weekend and she’ll arrive soon.”

“She…?”

He nodded with a hint of reluctance.

You couldn’t explain why this revelation hurt almost just as much as the day Jaehyun had opened up about wanting a divorce. You were seeing someone else too, probably for longer than him, but you didn’t want him to be dating anyone else, giving her everything you had been asking of him for so long. 

You should be happy for him to have finally changed and wanting to make it better with the next woman he would grow to love. Yet, all you could think about was that he had never been able to give it to you.

You were so selfish.

“Okay,” you said breathlessly and grabbed your purse, moving to the entrance door. 

“Hey.” You heard footsteps, and before you could grab the handle, Jaehyun was already holding you back by your arm. “I’ve known you for too long to unsee the fact that you’re upset. And let me tell you, I understand why you’re angry.”

You lowered your head so that he couldn’t read your exact expression. But he didn’t need to. He never needed to. To him, you had always been an open book. “It doesn’t matter anymore, Jaehyun…”

“You’re probably asking yourself why I couldn’t change my job to have more time for you too. Just like I’m asking myself why you couldn’t have been more independent and wouldn’t rely on me only. We’ve both come quite a way, haven't we?”

You took credit for the not independent enough part. After all, since freshman year, you’ve only had Jaehyun. He had been the center of your life, of your universe, and this view had shifted into a toxic direction you never wanted to look into again. You truly had turned codependent at some point, you owed that part. 

All that was left to do was not letting these negative traits affect your new relationships. That was a promise you didn’t only need to make to yourselves, but to your new partner, too.

“Do you think… Do you think we could have reached this point too if we had stayed together? This is what we have wanted, right?”

After all, it didn’t matter anymore. But you really wanted to hear this opinion, whether he thought the same. 

He admitted, “I don’t think we could have evolved like that if we had stayed together.”

“I think so too.” You shrugged off his grip and pulled down the door handle. 

“If you ever need something… I’m always here, okay? Call me, text me, no matter how late, I don’t care. I will always be here for you.”

After all, he was still so good, fair and bright.

It was unfair that you couldn’t offer the same kindness in return. Envy never looked good on anyone.

You switched to a cold business-tone. “My lawyer told me you received the papers already.”

“I did yesterday. I’ll sign them this weekend and pass them on on Monday.”

“See you on Sunday then when I come to pick up Kang Kang.”

And then, you left without another word.

____

“I have a gig tonight, but don’t worry, we can drop off your things first and head right there,” Jaemin declared. “I already told them to start the soundcheck without me.”

“Gig?” Jaemin had picked you up with his car from the train station and you were currently on your way to his house. “I thought we were going to spend the whole weekend… you know, at your place.”

“We will, we will!” he repeated and put his hand on your thigh while the other was still holding onto the steering wheel. “Don’t worry about that. It’s only tonight. Besides… you’ll get to know all my friends and bandmates too, so that’s gonna be fun!”

You should actually be excited about getting involved with his life right off the bat, but you couldn’t help but to feel more anxious about meeting new people when all you wanted to do was to spend a cozy weekend at Jaemin’s place, just the two of you. You wanted to take your sweet time, learning about each other, and only each other, again.

Jaemin had always been an extrovert while you were the complete opposite, and in all these years, this fact hadn’t seemed to have changed at all - just like him always forgetting how hard it was for you to come out of your shell. But you decided that you weren’t going to be hurt over this and see it as a compliment to get introduced to his friends and lifestyle so short into the relationship.

Perhaps, this was also a sign for you to break out of your shell that had only hardened throughout the years you had spent with Jaehyun as he was very similar to you. You couldn’t always live that way and accepted Jaemin offering to show you a new lifestyle.

“I’m looking forward to it!” you exclaimed and shifted your head back to the street, swallowing your anxiety and just hoping it wouldn’t resurface.

____

But it did later that night when you stood by the bar in that very small club, the crowd dancing and singing along to tunes you had never heard before, and you suddenly felt so alone and lost. 

Back in the days, Jaemin had also been in a band, just one of many self-formed ones in school, but his band had always been the most popular, because, well, he himself was so popular. And even now, he was remaining true to his image, flirting with the crowd through his mimicry and gestic, radiating a charisma that would have all girls on their knees in front of him if only he asked.

Since he was with you now though, you felt proud and a bit haughty that he was still so popular and you had him all to yourself. But also, on the other hand, you were questioning if the negative feelings from your teen years would resurface…

The irritation when he hadn’t looked at you even once during his performances. The doubts when he had always winked at another girl during his solos. The jealousy when he had eventually talked to said girls after his performances, treating you like air.

But this Jaemin… he was different. Just when he finished and you viciously feared that it all would be repeated again, he passed by the entire crowd, not sparing his female fans even a single glance, and walked straight up to you.

“How was I?” he asked with a beam and you fell happily into his arms.

“Amazing!”

He laughed. “I’m so happy you liked it! Here, let me introduce you to my bandmates.”

So many new faces, but you were feeling welcomed from the very first moment on. There was no need to be anxious about feeling left out and to be nervous about nobody wanting to talk to you. You were having so much fun and everyone wanted to talk to you, wanting to know more about Jaemin’s girlfriend.

You hadn’t known he had already introduced you as such and felt very honored.

“Let’s have a toast!” Jaemin then raised up his shot.

“This will be our fourth toast!” a band member pointed out. “What do we still have to celebrate?”

You felt Jaemin’s strong arm around your shoulder, claiming you in front of all his friends and his entire band. “We’re celebrating her divorce. I’ve waited many years for her to separate from her husband, and now I can have her all to myself, for my entire life!”

You blushed at his loud confession. That didn’t seem like your Jaemin who you had known for so long at all. He had always been openly flirty and charming, but love confessions were never really his thing. Until now, apparently.

“So you want to marry her and spend the rest of her life with her?” someone teased. “What happened to Jaemin and when do we get him back?”

You quickly shook your head and waved aside. “Please, he’s only joking!”

“I’m quite offended you think I’m joking!” Jaemin objected and turned to you to make the conversation more private. “I mean it. We will spend the rest of our lives together. No matter where.”

This had suddenly turned into such an intimate moment, and all of his band mates sensed it which was why they pretended to be occupied with each other.

“You can’t say things like that so casually here!” you chided. “You’re probably drunk.”

“I’m actually quite sober and can think straight, and these thoughts currently always lead me to one desire: I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I don’t care if you marry me or not, I just want you to always be with me. We will make it work. With your job, your dog, and your family. Even if it means I will have to come to you and live in the capital.”

“The Jaemin back then wouldn’t have uttered these words at all. He was always talking about going to America, getting famous with his music…”

“Well, I can still go to America. But with you. And one day, when you decide that you’re ready, even if we’re old and grey, we can get married.”

He then kissed you, and you dared to daydream just a little bit. In one possible future, you actually saw yourself watching your husband, Jaemin, standing on the stage of a big stadium in America while the crowd cheered, but he only had eyes for you who stood in the first row. 

One faraway possible future, you didn’t dare to venture in further, because in this one, you were still married and it would take so, so much time until you could actually think of accepting a proposal ever again.

Forgotten was the toast still, and you and Jaemin called it an early night. You were surprised, because back in the days, he would have partied until the sun went up, and longer.

“I want to spend the remaining time with you,” he only said and led you out of the venue by your hand.

Maybe, just like you and Jaehyun, Jaemin had evolved too - to the man you had always needed him to be.

____

The next morning, it had started snowing.

The blanket slipped from your naked shoulder when you arose, the mattress giving in under you as a result of you bracing your hands against the surface. Jaemin was still sleeping soundly next to you. Of course, because a brief look at your phone told you that it was only 7am on a saturday.

Yet, you didn’t want to miss this beautiful, quiet hour and slipped out of the bed. Throwing on Jaemin’s t-shirt from the night before, you walked to the big window that offered a panoramic view of the landscape. 

There were only a handful of high rise buildings in his city and no skyscrapers were seen far and wide. The horizon was a bit cloudy, but the beautiful landscape was still recognizable through the falling snow. 

You had been to Jaemin’s hometown only once when you were together as teenagers. He had been sent to Seoul to attend a better school and eventually university, but had moved back after his degree.

You loved it here, it was the entire opposite of the bustling and ever lively capital. But living here, you wondered, would you get bored eventually? It was quite the contrary to your personality, but you had always enjoyed your environment being fast and never sleeping while you stood still. It gave you the feeling of never being alone while actually being alone.

A kiss on the back of your neck let you shudder, but in a good way. You giggled and turned around to Jaemin who had his arms wrapped around you now. His muscles were well-built and tense in your grip.

“Look Jaemin, it’s snowing!” you pointed out. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

“Mhhmm,” he muttered, but he didn’t look. “I know a more beautiful view, and it’s also in front of me.”

His voice sounded so sexy when he had just woken up. He embraced you tighter and kissed your temple. “You’re so charming as always.”

Jaemin chuckled. “Why are you up so early already?” he then asked you and gently rocked you in his arms. “You can still sleep.”

“I know, it’s just…” You shrugged. “I want to spend as much time with you here as possible.”

“Oh, does that mean I have to get up now too?” he seemingly wailed. “But what if I don’t want to get out of bed yet? Is there something we can do in bed together?” 

You didn’t need to be told twice, but let yourself get carried, with both of your legs hooked around his waist, back to the bed. Letting out a laugh, Jaemin threw you onto the mattress and then crawled on top of you. He was still naked from last night, his muscles flexing nicely in the dim morning light.

You stretched out your arms and placed them around his neck. Gently, you pulled him close to you so that your nose tips touched, and smiled. You wanted to stop time right here and now, and bathe in this intimate moment for a while longer.

Jaemin didn’t know the words ‘enjoy’ and ‘patience’ though as not much later, sweat droplets started to collect on his chest, making his skin glisten with every shift that he performed on top of you. Your breathing came in hitches and caught every time he pushed himself deeper into you.

“You like that?” he whispered into your ear, causing goose bumps to spread all along your neck.

“I lot…” A gasp passed your lips when his wet tongue licked your earlobe.

It had slipped your mind when you had last felt this deeply satisfied. What Jaemin was doing right now even topped the events from last night when you had returned to his apartment, even though you had thought that it was impossible to top that.

You stretched out your legs and placed them around Jaemin’s waist, pushing your hips up. 

“Hm?” He raised his head and locked eyes with you, revealing a sneaky smile that was accompanied by a cocked brow to emphasize his feigned surprise. “What’s that? You’re impatient already?”

“It’s you,” you said. “I just can’t get enough.”

Jaemin lowered his head again and started sucking on the side of your neck. You were sure you would be able to see a few faint bruises later on, but it was the time to wear scarves anyway and you wanted him to mark you in every way possible. 

Your fingers entangled in his soft hair that then slipped through the gaps between them, and after a few bypassing moments of absolute stillness from his side where you slowly grew even more impatient, Jaemin started to move inside of you again. 

When you were a teenager, you had lost your virginity to Jaemin after a few months of dating. He hadn’t been as insecure, nervous and awkward as you, because of course, the most popular boy from the band had already gained experience. And it seemed like he hadn’t lacked keeping to do so.

Or how else did he know to slip out with only the tip remaining so that you could quickly catch your breath, just to thrust back inside you with full force again? You couldn’t help but scream every time he penetrated that sweet spot, and he made sure to hit with every single motion.

The sheets grew wet under you as you were sweating so much, and in the peripheral of your blurry vision, you noticed that it had turned a bit lighter already in the apartment. God, for how long had this been going on, and how much more could you take?

You were already calling out, “Jaemin, Jaemin, Jaemin!”, mixed with dry screams that only grew more hoarsely, but you couldn’t seem to reach the anticipated release. Whenever you faced him, you only encountered his wicked, charming grin, and were assured that release was nowhere near yet.

Time and space blurred together for you and your mouth hung open, longing for air as he ripped you off it with his thrusts, again and again. The neverending string of a nearing orgasm was always graspable, but remained out of reach as each time, Jaemin took a brief pause by halting his motions and never pulling out entirely. 

“Please…”

You didn’t know why he was doing that or where he had even learned to be this skilful to drag it out for so long, and truth to be told, you also didn’t want to know. At this point, you were only worried that he was punishing you on purpose, for dumping him back in the days, and for letting him wait for so long. Fair enough, you accepted this kind of punishment over anything else. 

Jaemin drew his face close and licked over your dry lips. “I want to hear you beg.”

You didn’t care anymore at this point. You pressed him close to you, drawing your thighs even tighter around him. “Please, Jaemin!”

“Louder.” A low growl into your ear. But eventually, you felt him moving again.

“Please, Jaemin. PLEASE!”

“Louder!” he summoned.

“JAEMIN, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, I BEG YOU, PLEASE!”

The next moment, it felt like a wave came crashing down over you after trying to swim away from it all this time. It only took Jaemin two more skilled thrusts at the right angle until you let out a long-lasting scream that was on the brink of waking all the neighbors up, but you didn’t care.

You felt your insides clenching around him, your legs shaking in the aftermath while your fingers simultaneously dig deep into his skin as though you were holding onto a lifeline, nails grazing along his back and leaving long marks that would also be visible for quite a time.

Jaemin followed almost directly after you. He was gracious and quiet about it, but you knew him well enough to see that he was still enjoying it a little too much as he revealed himself by a low whimper that he tried to hide in the side of your neck, followed by a long sigh. His arms were shaking as he lost all strength and limply fell on top of you.

Your fingers were still on the back of his head, slowly stroking and comforting him while he was coming down from his heights. Your sweaty chest heaved up and down with Jaemin’s head on top of it.

For a moment, it was silent, only your regular breathing rhythms audible. 

In that moment, you wondered when you had last felt this happy.

____

“Are you with Jaemin this weekend?” 

Jaehyun’s anger was palpable through the phone. You moved away from the queue, signaling Jaemin that you had to take this call while he was lining up to buy you octopus skewers.

“Uh… I-”

Your still-husband had caught you red-handed and you didn’t know what to answer, because you hadn’t been prepared for this kind of situation. Only now, you realized that it would have been better to not have picked up the call at all when you had seen his name popping up on the display - ‘hubby’ and a heart. You still hadn’t brought yourself to change it to his government name.

“Answer me,” he demanded when your stuttering slowly grew uncomfortable and you settled for a quiet corner to talk to him.

“Jaehyun…”

“Someone sent me a video of his stories from last night and you were in it. I should have known the first thing you’d do would be running to him.”

How was that possible? You didn’t have mutual friends anymore from back then who would have cared enough as all contact had started to dwindle down at some point. And as far as you knew, these two had each other blocked everywhere. Unless they didn’t anymore and Jaehyun was lying to cover up that he had been digging.

“Jaehyun, that’s not fair at all.”

You heard a snort, followed by dead silence, but he didn’t hang up. “When did you want to tell me you were spending the weekend with my best friend?”

Dead silence again, but this time from your side of the line. Eventually, you reproached, “You haven’t been best friends for four years.”

“You told me you weren’t in contact anymore since he tried to creep back into your life even shortly after our marriage and I had to nearly physically fight him when he suddenly stood in front of our door.”

“We weren’t in contact!” you defended yourself. “But he had gotten wind of our separation and then hit me up again. Initially, it was just small talk, how I was doing and dealing with the situation. This is only the third time we've seen each other ever since. I really wasn’t in contact with him all this time, Jaehyun.”

“You never blocked his number or his socials as you had promised or otherwise, how could he have reached you?”

“I did! I told you I did, and I immediately did so back then! He contacted me from another number as he had changed his phone contract. I’ve never lied to you throughout our entire marriage! Don’t doubt me now just for me to fit your narrative, Jaehyun.”

“Hm.” He always let out this sound when he was at a loss for words, but didn’t want to drop the topic just yet. “I see.”

Somewhere in the background you heard Kang Kang and suddenly felt so guilty. Yet, you shrugged it off. You were too happy to get dragged down by his double standards right now. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth about why I wanted to go to Jeonju. But honestly, Jaehyun, you also have a female over this weekend, don’t you?”

“I told you straight-forwardly. Also, she’s not an ex or your best friend, and certainly not my first love.”

He was right. The way you had handled this situation was certainly not pretty or fair at all. Why hadn’t you told him the moment you asked him to take care of Kang Kang? 

Perhaps, because Jaemin had always been a threat to your relationship, long before your marriage and after it too. And it had always been your fault, even though you had complied with Jaehyun's requests about blocking and deleting him.

Somehow though, whenever Jaemin wanted to find you, he always did. And he was lucky to now have found you at a time where you had wanted to be found as well.

“Jaehyun…”

He let out a long breather and you imagined him shaking his head at this very moment. “I’m sorry, I don’t even know why I’m calling. I just thought… It’s not even my right anymore to know who you’re with and what you’re doing, but… really, him out of all people?”

“Jaehyun…”

He hadn’t been in Jaemin’s band, but in the same class. You had always seen him around, but never interacted as you had rarely hung out with Jaemin’s friends. He hadn’t wanted that. And when you had finally had enough of his shenanigans after suffering in your on-off relationship for two years, you moved on in university - with your ex’s best friend who had happened to be the complete opposite, and everything you’d ever asked for.

In the beginning, you had tried to keep it a secret, but eventually came clean with Jaemin after a few months, who had reacted in a very mature way. Or so you had thought. You didn’t want to be friends with him as you rarely saw him anyway, but you let them be friends. Eventually, you warmed up to this new dynamic as Jaemin had once been a huge part of your life too. Nothing had seemed weird at first and Jaemin seemingly was okay with it. 

Until it all went downhill.

“Do you remember the day you told him we were engaged?” Jaehyun then asked.

Of course you remembered. Jaemin hadn’t let his true emotions slip, he hadn’t thrown a tantrum, he hadn’t said anything more than,

“Good luck. But you won’t be married for too long, because she’ll be mine again.”

And ever since then, best friends Jaehyun and Jaemin had never spoken a word to each other again.

It was eerie and sad how this prediction had eventually turned out to be true.

“I chose you, because you are kind, dedicated and warm, Jaehyun. Jaemin was fickle, unreliable and unfaithful, yes, but we were almost still kids! He’s changed.”

“That’s what you also said when I was in the army and he tried to test the waters with you again. That he’s changed, when you went back to him shortly. And look how that ended.”

“Are you bringing this up again? We were never involved in that sense again! You were in the boot camp and could only text me for one hour on the weekend, I felt lonely and we wanted to meet up as friends! I was young and stupid, how many times do you still want to hear it?”

“... And he never turned up.”

You bit into your lower lip. If you didn’t know it better, Jaehyun was hurt and jealous. But there was seriously no room for him to feel this way anymore. You were separated and it was only a matter of days until it was official. You didn’t even need to talk to him right now, but somehow, you also couldn’t bring yourself to just hang up.

“This time, he did turn up. Among many other things.” 

Only then did you realize that tears were pricking behind your eyes. In your peripheral, you could watch Jaemin ordering the skewers already, he was not supposed to see you cry.

“And you know that from a day of spending with him?”

“You know, I don’t have to justify myself in front of you, Jaehyun.”

‘If you still love me, then say it out loud!’ that was what you wanted to tell him. You wanted to grab him by his shoulders, shake him and ask him why he hadn’t told you so earlier. Why Jaemin had to come in between you again for him to finally open his mouth. 

At the other side of the line, it had suddenly turned quiet. 

“Are you sure about it?” you whispered into your phone. “About the divorce.”

“What is this about?” Jaehyun almost seemed angry now. “We’ve talked about it over and over again. This is for the best.”

“Then stop bothering me!”

Finally, you hung up and took a deep breather. Wiping a tear from your cheek with the back of your hand, you turned your head against the sky. It was still snowing, and the flakes melted immediately on your hot cheeks.

“Everything alright?” Jaemin asked when he had reached you. “Did something happen?”

You shook your head and accepted the skewer he was holding out to you. “No, nothing. Let’s go.”

____

Jaemin rolled his head back, his mouth falling agape.

“Yes, just like that.”

You felt his fingertips grazing over the back of your head, and then, with a firm tug, he had your hair between his fingers, tightly pulling on it. You swallowed a pained squeal, but the discomfort passed quickly as you realized it even added up to the sensation of sucking Jaemin off.

You let it slip past your mouth, only trapping the upper part between your lips, and then halted. With the tip of your tongue, you pressed down into the slit where you already tasted his sticky precum. You smiled when you heard him groan.

This time though, Jaemin didn’t let you get away with teasing him so easily. He pushed your head down his length, and as you didn’t have time to prepare yourself for this sudden action, you almost choked at him hitting the back of your throat. 

You weren’t trained in deep throating at all, the only time you had tried, you had wanted to gag so badly. Even now, it wasn’t really a cakewalk for you to suppress the reflex. But as you turned your gaze up and caught Jaemin stretched out gloriously on the couch, enjoying it with angelic moans, you gladly complied, no matter the circumstances.

Jaemin set the rhythm with his fingers still entwined in your hair. He pulled on your strands and lifted your head up his length just to slam you all the way down again until you nearly met his pelvis with your lips. It took you three tries to get rid of the gag reflex and another two to adjust to this submissive act.

“Now, suck it.”

You happily did so as it meant having a break from the excessive motions earlier, and only dedicated yourself to the upper half, sucking him off like a lollipop. You also used your tongue with which you teased him again by letting it glide over the smoothest part, just passing the frenulum. The sound he let out as a result was the loudest you had ever heard pass his lips during an intimate act.

“What was that?” he asked almost breathlessly, and looked down at you.

“You like it?” you wanted to know shyly.

“I love it!” he exclaimed and laughed. “Do it again!”

You felt Jaemin releasing himself into your mouth without a warning not much later, though you felt it pumping past your circled lips. Patiently, you waited until he was done and only let him slip out of your mouth then, falling back into a crouch and wiping over your stained mouth.

With a smirk, Jaemin patted the top of your head, then dropped his hand and angled your chin with his index finger. You faced each other, and you observed his expression changing.

“Now, your turn?” he asked with a bit of danger in his voice.

You swallowed, but didn’t hold him back. You were in for a wild ride.

That was until Jaemin’s phone rang and he needed to interrupt your act. You wanted him to ignore it, but he had already told you beforehand that he was expecting an important call. Just talk about timing…

You wondered what it could be about when you arose after Jaemin had left the room to go to another and take the call. It was kind of a long conversation as you only remembered how you went on to lie in bed, mindlessly scrolling through your phone and losing track of time. The next moment, when Jaemin came out again, it was already dark.

You were standing by the window now, the snow still hadn’t stopped falling. As a matter of fact, it was snowing even harder, and you wondered whether by tomorrow morning, the snow would have put a white blanket over the whole country.

“What happened?” you asked, unsure what to read out of Jaemin’s undefined expression.

That was until he broke out into a beam, closed the short distance between you and swept you off your feet. He had his hands placed under your ribs and swung you around with your feet dangling above the floor. 

You laughed and asked, after he had placed you down again, “Will you tell me what happened now?”

“Great news!” Jaemin declared with your hands remaining in his. “That was a producer who’s called me. I’ve been sending demos to different companies for years now, and finally this one is interested in my music! The producer wants to meet me tomorrow, isn’t it great?!”

“Oh, Jaemin! That’s amazing to hear!”

“I know, right?I have to prepare a few things for tomorrow since I have to drive to Gwangju where the company is located, do you mind?” He suddenly drew his brows together and looked very concerned. “I know we had dinner plans, but…”

You immediately shook your head. Of course, disappointment sank into your stomach as you had especially looked forward to this fancy dinner with him. It was your last night together as you were supposed to go home the next day, but another part, a bigger part, didn’t want to be so selfish. She knew that music had always been Jaemin’s dream, and if he could make it his main occupation, who were you to stop him?

“I’m gonna make up for it!” he immediately apologized, led your hand to his mouth and kissed your knuckles. “Tomorrow, fancy brunch or lunch before you leave?”

You nodded, very well aware of the fact that knowing Jaemin for the passionate man that he was, neither brunch or lunch would take place tomorrow. Somehow, it was all high school again, but you were more mature now and there was no room for your own, selfish needs.

Jaemin let go of you and dedicated himself to his music station where he gathered together a few documents. “Imagine,” he then summoned, “if it’s really going to work out and I am really going to be big with my band, we could play so many shows or even do a tour - maybe internationally too! And I would take you with me of course! To America!”

“Jaemin, I have a dog to take care of and a job I’m really dedicated to, you know that. I cannot be on the road for months.” Had he forgotten the words from last night where he had offered to move to the capital for you? Had your wants been overshadowed by his daydreams once again like back in the days?

“Oh yeah…” He scratched the back of his head, but then beamed again. “Don’t worry, we’ll find a solution!”

Again, he was proposing something so far off into the future without asking what you wanted. Aside from the fact that you liked living a domestic life with a stable job and a routine, you didn’t want to be separated from your dog. Or your family, especially your grandmother yet.

And that was what Jaemin didn’t get… again. Just like the fact that you couldn’t think of another marriage already when you were still with one foot inside your current one.

He was impulsive, dreamy and so demanding. But this was what you had wanted, right? Someone to take things into his own hands and consider you in his future, whether you fit in or not.

“Yes, we’ll find a solution,” you eventually replied as he was expecting an answer. And who knew, perhaps you would really find one.

Jaemin turned back to this work and rambled on about how great of a life you two would have together.

Would you, though?

Your current life as it was, was already perfect for you. Just the man in it hadn’t been.

____

With shaking hands, you swiped over your phone screen until, from your blurry vision, you finally saw your husband’s name pop up. Hubby and a heart next to it. You still hadn’t changed it, and for now, you were glad for that as it had made finding his contact easier.

It was only 7am on a sunday, but you knew Jaehyun would pick up no matter how early or late, no matter what, regardless of your dispute from the day before. He had promised.

“Grandmother is in the hospital,” you cried into the phone the moment the ringing stopped. “And I- I can’t go back. I-I don’t have a car and I’m in J-Jeonju, the trains are not running because of the heavy snowfall and I don’t know how to get back, how to get to my grandmother. Jaehyun… C-can you-”

It was rustling on the other line and from your peripheral, you could see Jaemin watching you with a displeased face. 

No questions asked. Jaehyun’s voice was still so deep and raspy as you had just woken him up, but his head was as clear as ever. “Send me the address, I’ll take the car and come pick you up.”

“Th-there is snow everywhere! It’ll probably take hours.”

He didn’t ask why Jaemin wouldn’t drive you or why Jaehyun himself should do this even though you were separated. At this moment, none of this mattered except the fact that he needed to bring you to your grandmother. 

“I don’t care.” There was some noise on his end of the line, and you could have sworn you also heard a female whispering something, but none of this mattered. “I’ll get going now and will text you the estimated arrival time.”

He didn’t care about the weather, the amounts of snow blocking the streets, whether he would even get through the traffic, none of this mattered.

“Thank you,” you whispered through your sobs.

It was like he still wanted to say something, but only brought himself to end the call with, “See you.”

Jaemin waited for you to finish typing the address for Jaehyun first before he spoke up. “I wish I could change things.”

“You can!” you yelled at him, having suppressed your anger for an hour already.

At 6am, you had been unexpectedly awakened by a call from your mother that held unfortunate news you never wished upon anyone to ever receive: Your grandmother was in the hospital as she had fallen in the bathroom that night and had been unconscious for a few hours before she could call anyone for help.

And Jaemin’s reaction? 

He fell into silence again.

“You can change things, but you don’t want to,” you repeated through tears and fled out of the bed as you couldn’t physically bear being close to him anymore.

“That’s not it…” His feeble attempts to defend himself were all to no avail as expected. “It’s just a once in a lifetime chance, if I need to cancel, I might not be able to…”

“My grandmother can also live just this lifetime! I only have her for one lifetime,” you hissed, not sparing him a single glance as you started to throw your belongings into your bag. “She’s fighting for her life in the hospital and you think your music appointment is more important than driving me there? It’s only in the evening, and you’re worried you won’t make it back to your appointment on time, because of the snow?”

“We called your parents and the hospital already.” His voice got louder, more determined now, though it was nothing compared to yours. “She’s fine. You can probably take the train by midday, maybe even forenoon, anyway. I’m just being realistic.”

“You just don’t get it, don’t you? Probably because no one has ever been this important to you.”

The moment you had spoken the words out loud, you already regretted it, but an apology refused to pass your lips as Jaemin only said,

“You are this important to me.”

“I don’t believe you as you cannot even do this for me.”

His music was more important, his career and everything connected to it. It would always, always come first, and this was something that was never going to change, and had never changed, you saw it clearly now. 

Your relationship in your adulthood was merely a projection of what it had already been in high school.

Nothing had changed.

____

Jaehyun picked you up from a nearby café four hours later. 

You had directly left Jaemin’s apartment the moment you had gathered all your belongings and hadn’t looked back - neither had he. He hadn’t changed his mind about the situation and he hadn’t tried to hold you back, no matter how much you had wished for it. 

You were standing in front of the café, still in your joggers and with tousled hair, freezing to your bones as the snow touched your naked ankles, but at least Jaehyun was here, regardless of the weather, his appointments and the time.

He was here.

He had always been here. 

You had just been too blind to see it.

The moment he opened the car door at your side, you broke out into tears again, unable to move, and it caused him to actually get out of the car himself to then approach you. 

Suddenly, it got so warm around you despite the weather, and even with your teary eyes closed you realized that Jaehyun had pulled you into an embrace. With his slender fingers, he brushed over the back of your head in a comforting gesture as you sobbed into his jacket.

“Your grandmother will be fine,” he whispered into your hair, unaware of the fact that you were currently not crying over your grandmother anymore, but over the fact that he was here regardless of how ridiculous it might sound.

He had made it through the snow chaos and traffic just to bring you home safely. If this wasn’t what your marriage vows had been about, then what was? Was that what your grandmother had been talking about?

You had two hours to think about it as you made your way back to the capital. There were many things you wanted to ask Jaehyun. How serious it was with that woman, if she was mad he had suddenly left her for his soon-to-be ex-wife and if he himself was mad that he was here now. But first and foremost…

“Why did you come?”

“I told you, you could always call me. No matter how late… or early in this case, I’ll always be there. Despite that, I care about your grandmother and your entire family, too. For a large part of my life, they were also my family.”

“They will always be, Jaehyun.”

“I know.”

His gaze was too focused on the street ahead of you as though it was taking him everything in his might to just keep his eyes averted from you. The majority of the snow had been cleared from the streets already so that cars could drive without many obstacles again. 

“Are you sure about it?” you repeated from your disrupted phone call the day before. “Are you sure about the divorce?”

“Why does it matter?” he asked back strictly. “Haven’t you moved on with my former best friend already, this time for good, because he’s changed so much?”

“That’s not an answer, Jaehyun.”

You had no reason to feel so attacked, but it still hurt, because he was wrong, even though Jaehyun didn��t know it yet. Jaemin hadn’t changed at all, and you were too proud to admit it. Perhaps though, you had overreacted as well. Perhaps, everything would have gone so well if only you had been calmer and more rational, and had actually listened to Jaemin. Perhaps, you had done Jaemin so wrong. 

But Jaehyun was now in the car, driving you back home, and not Jaemin, right? Jaehyun was here, and not Jaemin.

“On the way to Jeonju,” he started, “I had a few hours to think about everything. Have we given it all? Was a divorce really our last solution? What could I have done differently, what could you have differently for us to avoid this outcome. And I just… couldn’t come up with an answer. 

“Which means, on the contrary, perhaps a divorce was not a solution either,” you concluded. “But we’ve lived in separation for half a year at that point, Jaehyun. And we were fine with it. We’ve had many talks, so why are we here, ripping open this wound again? What’s the purpose? I just can’t wrap my head around the fact that it only took one weekend for us to doubt this decision.”

“Perhaps, there is none,” he said, and shrugged. “Perhaps, it’s all about what makes us happy, after all. And finding out you lied to me and spent the weekend with him, didn’t make me happy at all.”

Now that he was so honest with you, you could be honest with him too. “I also wasn’t happy when you told me you would get a female visitor this weekend.”

A long pause followed the conversation before you confessed,

“But you picking up the phone and being here with me now, makes me really happy.”

“Yeah,” he agreed quietly, “I’m also happy you called me and didn’t rely on him.”

He didn’t ask what exactly had happened with Jaemin, and you also didn’t ask him about the other woman when you arrived at his empty home much later that day to pick up your dog after having visited your grandmother together first. 

She didn’t get hurt except for a bruise by her hip and would be fine after being taken care of in the hospital for a few days. You visited her every day for one week straight, but on neither of these days did you see Jaehyun or Jaemin.

The fact that you were disappointed would be an understatement, but you were too caught up with everything going on at this point that you couldn't waste too many unnecessary thoughts in their behaviors.

____

A week later, you and your mother returned home with your grandma. Despite her refusing your offer, you had still insisted on taking one week off from work and living with her, just in case something could happen again and until she regained her health. 

Nevertheless, you as a family had all agreed on hiring a caretaker that would look after her half a day and who would start right after your week off with her. After a few attempted protests from your grandma’s side though, she had eventually given in as well.

“Where’s all the food I requested?” you asked in astonishment as you opened shelf after shelf in your grandmother’s kitchen, but each of them you found empty. “Didn’t father and uncle do grocery shopping? I made an entire list for them and they knew she’d return today.”

“Oh, they were busy last night,” your mother explained after she had taken your grandmother to her bedroom. “They’ll do it later today.”

You rolled your eyes as you tried to fight the wave of reproach against your family. “Busy with watching football all night long probably. What did they think would happen when we came back home with grandmother? There are no ingredients to make food for her and when I looked into the bathroom, she had also run out of toilet paper. What were they thin-”

“Honey…” Your mom placed her hands on your shoulders to calm you down, but somehow, her not getting as heated up as you was making you even more disappointed. Were you the only one who cared? “Please be reassured that everything is going to be fine.”

“How?” you asked back, a tinge of anger in your voice. “We come back and the sheets are not washed, we have nothing we can make food of for her and we cannot even-”

Your mom exhaled deeply as she tried to convince you again, “Let’s just order the most important necessities online, okay? Then your father and uncle will bring the rest later today, it’s really not a big deal.”

“Sweetheart, will you come here, please?” you heard your grandmother suddenly disrupt your conversation. 

You let out a long sigh, threw another glare at your mom and then left for the bedroom.

“I’m sorry, grandma,” you apologized as you popped into her bedroom with your head first. “I will go to the store right now to bring you the necessities. You don’t need to worry about this, please relax.”

“I do not worry about this,” she reassured you. “I feel so fine here. And you do not need to worry that much either, it’s all going to be fine.”

“No,” you cried out and shook your head, tears welling up on the brim of your eyes. All your feelings came crashing down on you at once, feelings that you had tried to push aside for an entire week. “Nothing is ever going to be fine again!”

You sat down by her bedside and dropped your head. Her soft, warm hand found your fingers and gave them a comforting squeeze. “Is this about your husband?”

“Yes,” you admitted, and ‘no’ you wanted to say simultaneously as this wasn’t about your husband alone. Perhaps, now ex-husband on official papers even. “Why did he never show up again after going to the hospital with me the first day? I thought… he still cared, not only about me, but about you too. I’m so disappointed. I thought he was different.”

The last sentence was dedicated to both of them, though you confessed silently to yourself that you had never expected this from Jaehyun, out of the two. 

“But dear… he did come.”

You lifted your head and wiped away a tear that had dangled on the corner of your eye as you faced your grandmother with much surprise. “What are you saying, grandma?”

“He came every single day in the morning before work, we talked for half an hour when I was awake. I thought you knew?”

You had no idea, and looking at your grandma now, who was grinning widely and also a bit sneakily, made you assume that perhaps, she had kept it a secret on purpose - because the effect, when you found out, would be so much more impactful.

And it was.

“Grandma, I had no idea…”

“That’s why I asked you, before you decided to separate, did you really give it your all and tried everything possible to fix your marriage before moving on? Because, as far as I can see, you’re not the only one not ready to do so entirely.”

“I… I can’t say. I don’t know. And it doesn’t matter anymore, grandma,” you eventually said. “Even if we both wanted it, it’s too late. He has probably already signed the papers and sent them out.”

“Fine. But don’t forget my words. If, at some point in your life, you realize that you have made the wrong decision, don’t hesitate for a single second and tell him.” She leaned back into the pillows. “It’s almost afternoon, I want to sleep. Can you close the door behind you then, dear?”

“Of course.” You gave her a kiss on the forehead and quietly walked out of her room.

Back in the kitchen, you saw your mom sitting at the table, scrolling through her phone. Why was she not up and about yet to do some grocery shopping or at least call your father to do the trip? You were fed up by now, fueled by your grandmother’s words too.

“Mom, I’m going to the store and I’ll take your car.”

“Okay.”

That was it. You knew she had had a lot on her plate too, but why did everyone not take this situation seriously enough? 

When you put on your jacket as it was freezing outside, you wondered whether you were overreacting and just putting all your time and energy into this situation, moving here and taking care of things, just so you didn’t need to think about how your own life was falling apart. As long as you could take care of someone else, you didn’t need to face your own problems. Hadn’t this been the root of your downfall as well?

After all, when you returned home after this week, you would get a call from your lawyer to confirm that the divorce was through. You had specifically requested for him not to call while you were here.

What then, after that? Then, you were a divorced woman, and you weren’t ready to settle with this term yet.

“Careful!”

You nearly ran into a tall figure when you opened the entrance door. A familiar scent touched your nose, strong hands holding you by your arms so that you could keep your balance after the impact. 

“What are you doing here?” you asked Jaehyun as your gaze simultaneously scanned his appearance, and you spotted two big bags of groceries to either of his sides on the floor. 

“I thought since your grandmother would come home today, you would need a helping hand,” he stated and pointed at the grocery bags. You saw toilet paper, rice, water, and other necessities peeking out. “I didn’t know what to buy, so I just brought a bit of everything. Is that… okay?”

You couldn’t help yourself but fell into his arms, hot tears streaming down your cheeks. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulder, and suddenly, this entire situation didn’t seem so difficult and hopeless anymore.

You had felt so left alone, like you had overreacted and that your feelings weren’t valid. But now your husband was here, having shown up in ways nobody else was. Your feelings were valid, they had always been to him.

Perhaps, your grandmother had been right all along. 

No, you hadn’t tried everything possible, because this clearance came way too late now, and you couldn’t apologize anymore for sometimes being a selfish, spoiled brat that had demanded much more from her husband than he was able to give. And always, you had wanted more and more.

Your views on life and the way you wanted to live it had started to take separate roads and you had thought this was not fixable anymore, but was that really what mattered after all?

It wasn’t about who was there for you all the time. Your problems couldn’t have been solved in that way either. That was why it couldn’t have worked out with Jaemin too. It wasn’t about this at all.

It was about who showed up during the times you truly needed someone. And it was always Jaehyun. When you needed support, a helping hand or someone to call during an emergency, he had always been there.

If you needed someone at all times, it could be anyone. But if you needed someone when times were hard, it was Jaehyun.

It had always been Jaehyun. 

“Your grandma is going to be fine,” Jaehyun whispered and gently patted the back of your head.

But you weren’t crying over your grandmother anymore, but about your failed marriage.

Because yes, you regretted it deeply and had not given it your all.

Because now, it was too late.

Neither of you spoke about the divorce papers that day.

____

Jaehyun didn’t come over anymore and neither did you reach out to him during the week you lived with your grandmother. 

You were determined to make it on your own from then on. Very soon, you were an official divorcée and single dog mom, so it was better to start early with this new lifestyle. Knowing you too well, Jaehyun might have already sensed it as he was leaving you completely alone during that time.

You brought Kang Kang with you to live and thus your days started with walking your dog before helping your grandmother get ready and preparing breakfast that you eventually ate together just like the other meals. Even though your grandmother was still able to do most things by herself, you noticed how slower, shakier and sometimes disoriented she had become. 

Time was not stopping, for nobody.

During the day you were occupied with doing chores, taking care of paperwork as well as your grandmother and Kang Kang. At the end of each day, you fell into your bed, absolutely exhausted and tired. Your mind was always occupied as well and there was no space for other things except for those brief moments during nighttime when you were alone and neither busy in a physical way or in your mind.

Then, you stared at the ceiling and wept.

Because you missed Jaehyun so badly and wished for him to be with you. You would have done anything for him to be here right now, but your marriage was over and you needed to move on without him. 

Everyday with this realization was hard, but luckily, no day grew harder than the day before. Eventually, they would only grow brighter.

That was your silver lining. 

____

Realizing that you wanted to be with Jaehyun after all, meant in retrospect that you couldn’t be with Jaemin. And just because you couldn’t be with Jaehyun, didn’t mean you should be with Jaemin. That was not how it worked, unfortunately.

“Hey, it’s me,” you spoke on the phone, watching the skyline from your window the first night you had returned to your home. 

He had promised to always pick up when you called, but this time, he hadn’t. You were struggling to come to terms with the fact that he indeed didn’t want to be reached by you either this time. Perhaps, not anymore at all.

You remembered why you had married Jaehyun.

You had married him, because he took care of the people he loved, because he made things seem more bearable when they weren’t and because when he said he would pick up whenever you called, he actually did. That was not a void Jaemin could just fill.

You would always search for a Jaehyun in his eyes, and that was not fair, because he was not. He was Jaemin, an entirely different person. And there was a person out there that would be perfect for him, too.

“I just wanted to tell you that this is the last time you will ever hear from me.” Softly, Kang Kang was snoring in the corner, filling the pause that then followed.

Maturing was realizing that just because you wanted to be with someone, you shouldn’t be with them. Maturing was realizing that only because you didn’t want to be alone, you should be with someone. Maturing was realizing that even on the third try, some people still weren’t meant to be together.

Tears sprang from your eyes, but your voice gave no hint of it. “Truth to be told, I am very disappointed that you never showed up again… called me, or at least sent a message, asked me how we are. It was a very hard time for me and you just… weren’t there.”

But someone else had been. You dried your cheeks with the back of your hand. 

“Yes, I could have messaged or called you too… but why should I have when I was the one suffering? Admittedly, I also didn’t need to. I handled it all myself very well. That made me realize… I wanted this, Jaemin. I wanted this so much, with you. But I didn’t need it. I don’t need you. And the past weeks made me realize that you feel the same. You don’t need me either.”

You could live without Jaehyun and you could live without Jaemin, you just had to be strong enough to make it on your own now that you had neither. 

And you would make it on your own. 

You had the drive, passion and strength all within you, you just had failed to notice for so long. After all, you had been able to take care of your grandmother, dog and everyone around you for the past weeks. So taking care of yourself wouldn’t be harder than that.

Had you broken down and experienced weak moments? Yes, several times. But that had only made you stronger.

“I’m strong and not afraid, I will always make it on my own. And you will make it too. Go out into the world, perhaps even travel to America where you always wanted to go, make your dream about music come true… I wish for you to achieve everything you’ve ever wanted, with my whole heart.” You swallowed hard and added, “It’s just not going to be with me. I don’t know where my place is yet, but it’s not by your side.”

For now, your best companion was yourself. And your dog. And actually, that was enough.

You finished speaking on the mailbox with, “Goodbye, Jaemin.”

You didn’t hesitate to delete his number and block him all across social media. This time, for good.

The fact that you cried yourself to sleep that night would be your own little secret to keep, but it would also be the very last time you would find yourself in a position to cry over Jaemin, ever.

The next morning, you felt free. The air was clear and crisp. It was cloudy, but not snowing. Thank god.

____

“I apologize for having to tell you this, but Mr. Jeong hasn’t signed the divorce papers.”

“Pardon me?” 

It had been a dreadful feeling to take the call from your lawyer the next morning. The more surprised you were about the actual message he had just passed down to you. Your breath caught.

“His lawyer told me he refuses to sign them and sent them back to me unsigned, that’s why I couldn’t send them to you yet.”

You frowned as you suddenly turned utterly confused. “But why? What did he say? Is there something he still wants to negotiate over?”

“They didn’t tell me, just that he refuses to sign them. I’ll resolve this for you, be at ease.”

“Don’t,” you held him back. “I’ll do it myself.”

“You’re not allow-”

But you had already hung up and were halfway out of the door, he didn’t even come to end his sentence.

____

Not even an hour later, you were standing in front of Jaehyun’s apartment door, ringing the bell like a maniac. He looked at you like he had expected you already as you stood in front of him with your arms folded in front of your chest.

“Took you long enough.”

“Care to explain to me why you sent the documents back unsigned?”

“Come inside,” he invited you calmly.

Your eyes narrowed. “Your girlfriend doesn't mind?”

“We haven’t seen each other since that weekend… and I rather want it to stay this way.”

Your heart jumped. That basically meant they weren’t together anymore, you concluded as you followed him into his apartment and took your shoes off in the corridor. 

“What about Jaemin?” 

“Same.”

It seemed that you both didn’t want to talk about your past lovers, and even though you were curious, if he had to elaborate, then you needed to as well, and there was no way you would ever want to live through the past weeks again.

“I was thinking about our conversation in the car back from Jeonju,” he began as he shifted around to face you the moment you arrived in the living room, “about what makes me happy. When we were separated, we didn’t see each other, and I was happy living a life I haven’t gotten a taste of before. I was happy doing new stuff, trying out new things, being untied from you. Because what made me unhappy… was you.”

Your eye twitched as you didn’t know whether you should feel offended now. But when you let the words sink in and contemplated them, you felt exactly the same. Seeing and spending time with your husband had dreaded you of all your energy and happiness as you two had forgotten how to be happy together anymore.

And you told him exactly that now.

“I agree.” He nodded. “And then I thought about what made me really unhappy. Because up until two weeks ago, I was really happy. And then came you, and you made me feel so miserable.”

You drew your brows together, not quite sure if you had heard right. But you had, and it stung. No, it actually hurt very much that it took all your might to refrain yourself from crying right now. “I�� still make you unhappy?”

But Jaehyun’s facial expression didn’t match his words as he nodded. His features were soft, a slight smile playing around his lips. There was no way he could find this amusing?

“It makes me unhappy to see you unhappy. It makes me unhappy to see you suffering because of your grandmother and simultaneously getting mistreated by the guy who is supposed to make you happy. Because if he can’t do it, who will? I was just too blind to see this.”

You dropped your gaze. Jaehyun had. He had shown up in ways nobody else ever had. Just to… see you happy, because he couldn’t stand the thought of you being sad and miserable?

Knowing he was pushing so far, he didn’t wait for you to reply, but instead wanted to know, “What makes you unhappy?”

“When you’re not with me.”

With slow steps, he approached you until he stood tall and calm in front of you. You lifted your head and looked into his clear and sincere eyes.

“Please don’t ask me what will make me happy, Jaehyun,” you pleaded him straight-forwardly. “Because I’m not sure whether you’d like the answer.”

“What if I’d like to hear it?”

You furrowed in worry. “At all cost?”

Jaehyun inhaled sharply as though in tension, but his soft features remained. 

“What if you don’t like it?” you asked.

“You will never know if you don’t try, right?”

‘If, at some point in your life, you realize that you have made the wrong decision, don’t hesitate for a single second and tell him.’ You remembered your grandmother’s words too well.

He didn’t expect it though when you threw your arms around his neck and pulled him down to you. 

He still tasted exactly like in your memories.

____

“Are you excited, Kang Kang?” 

Your dog yelped and ran around in circles. You patted his head when he eventually came to a standstill in front of you and looked up to you with big eyes.

“Are you excited to live with your dad again?”

As though in response, Kang Kang started to whirl around again and you laughed. Lately, you found yourself laughing very often, and every time it came from deep within you with all sincerity and happiness. 

In the past two weeks, your grandmother had started to settle with her new caretaker so that you could cut down your visits to once or twice a week, because you were currently busy moving houses. But each time, Jaehyun came with you, and your grandmother was overjoyed.

You had decided to move into a new home together that wasn’t riddled with memories of a very unpleasant phase in your marriage that had almost ended it for good. It was just as big and beautiful as this apartment, but you had already agreed that that one would only be a temporary home as well.

Maybe, not too far in the future, you could move outside of the city where Kang Kang would have a garden to run around in and where he would have playmates, maybe both, a boy and girl.

You blushed at the thought and looked at the engagement ring and wedding band that you had been wearing again since the day you had found out that your husband had never signed the divorce papers.

Just because you could make it on your own didn’t mean you wanted and needed to. After all, you had given a vow to each other, because somewhere in the past, you were so happy, you had agreed on spending the rest of your lives with each other. And that meant something, so much more than anyone not married could imagine. 

You weren’t walking down the aisle thinking you’re going to get divorced. You got married, because this was supposed to be forever.

Yes, it was right that it took much less to turn “Till death do us part” into “Till your lack of time for me do us part”, but unlike the worst case scenario, everything else was fixable. 

The movers were busy carrying down the last boxes with your stuff while you put Kang Kang on a leash. Looking around your old apartment for one last time, you bid farewell to this home of yours that not only bore bliss, but also destruction. But you had come out of it stronger, better than before.

You wouldn’t say that all your differences were now solved by deciding to get back together. Love alone couldn’t magically make them disappear, that was not how it worked. But you had talked long about this, what you needed to get back to where you had once been.

You had thought of your grandmother’s words every so often. No, you had not given it all yet, you eventually had to admit to her personally too, and she had only smiled, as though in knowing. Jaehyun and you both still had, apart from love of course, the passion, the determination, the strength. And hope. 

As long as there was that, your marriage was fixable.

And this time, you would make sure nothing would do you part again.

“The movers are ready, so we should get to the car. Here, let me take Kang Kang.”

Your heart was full of love and hope too when Jaehyun appeared at your door with a smile and took the leash from you after giving you a kiss on your cheek. 

Jaehyun was a husband who took care of things, so that you wouldn’t need to. Wasn’t this what marriage was about? Making each other’s lives easier and happier, because life itself was already hard enough.

Your grandmother had realized this very early. What a woman.

You didn’t think of Jaemin that often anymore. Only every now and then, he involuntarily crossed your mind and tugged on your heartstrings as a strong memory that day by day slowly faded, too. His face became blurry when you tried to remember his exact features, and eventually, he would only be a flash of a picture among a string of memories when you thought back to this time. As it had always been.

The only difference was that you had shut down every possibility of reaching out on either side. When you caught yourself wanting to unblock him and look him up on social media, you put your phone aside and let the feeling pass. It really worked wonders.

And one day, even this urge would perish.

When you stepped onto the streets that were still layered with a thin sheen of snow and ice, you noticed that the sun was shining and a touch of spring lingered in the air. The temperature would start to get warmer soon as well.

Your husband helped Kang Kang into the back of the car before he circled it and opened the door for you. And that was it, the huge difference. So subtle, but so grave all at once, it nearly made your heart burst.

“Are you ready to go home?” Jaehyun asked.

And finally, you answered, “Yes, I really want to go home.”  

Winter was still here, but in your heart, it was already summer when your husband took your hand.

You wanted rays of sunshine, warm breezes, salt on your skin and the chanting of crickets.

You wanted it to always be summer.

You wanted your husband.

____

One month prior

Jaemin had followed you all the way back to Seoul that very same day your grandmother had been admitted to the hospital, ditching the biggest opportunity in his entire life after all.

After he had seen you so disappointed and sad, mostly because of him, your expression hadn’t left his mind for hours. When it dawned on him what he was doing to you, letting you down in a very crucial situation, he wanted to beat himself up for being such a selfish idiot once again and had directly made his way to the café where you had fled to. But when he had arrived, you were already gone. 

Following you all the way to Seoul, he had been thinking of all the ways he could make it up to you. He had booked a hotel in the city and prepared to stay there for as long as you needed him. But when he had arrived, he saw you in front of the hospital and you weren’t alone. 

You had been with your husband and he had held you close as you cried in his arms, he had seen it all from his car.

He was too late again, he had thought. But when he had looked closer, the way Jaehyun was holding you and consoling you, he knew that timing wasn’t the problem, it had never been. 

You couldn’t be hugged like this by anyone. Jaemin couldn’t embrace you the way Jaehyun did, and it turned out to be a painful realization for him. It couldn’t be him, it also couldn’t be anyone else. It had to be Jaehyun.

It had always been Jaehyun.

___

“May I come in?”

Jaemin stood in front of Jaehyun’s door later that fateful day after you had left with your dog, facing his former best friend in person for the first time in many years. 

Occasionally, he would look at his social media after he had found out on a random day that Jaehyun had unblocked him and vice versa. Somehow, they still wanted to know what the other was up to, who they were up to with. The irony of that.

Jaehyun remained quiet, but pushed the door open for him. 

“Why are you here?” Jaehyun then asked him when they reached the living room. “She’s not here.”

“I know,” Jaemin answered. “I came for you.”

“So?” He braced his arm against the table and leaned back. “The invitations for the tea party are not out yet.”

“There is no need to be so condescending.” At this point, Jaemin was just so tired and wanted to leave this all behind him. “After today, I will be out of your lives, forever.”

“Sounds tempting. But as you know, we will be officially divorced soon, so she’s all yours to have.”

“But I’m not the one she needs.”

Jaehyun drew his brow together. “You’re the one she wants to be with.”

He smiled mildly and repeated, “But I’m not the one she needs. We don’t need to be together a fourth time to figure this out. You show up in ways I will never be able to, you’re the one she needs, even if she doesn’t see it yet.”

“Well… you’re too late.” Jaehyun shrugged. “I’ll sign the papers and will send them to my lawyer tomorrow. You think she’s some puppet you can toss around when you’re done playing just to pick her up again when it’s convenient for you? That’s not how relationships work.”

“I know.” Jaemin dropped his head in regret. “I’ve never wanted all of this. I’ve always wanted the best for…”

“...yourself,” Jaehyun ended the sentence aloud.

“... her,” Jaemin ended the sentence in his head.

And even though everything was different now, even though he had evolved and grown so much as a person, it was easier to let them believe that he was still the selfish, hard-headed Jaemin from the past. 

After all, he couldn't hold her like Jaehyun to make her feel so happy. 

It had to be someone particular. It had to be him.

And if he would be gone, then no one could make her happy anymore.

So Jaemin dashed forward and grabbed his former friend by the collar. Jaehyun was too perplexed to instantly react and just faced his opposite with a shocked expression.

“Listen up,” Jaemin growled, “if you send out signed divorce papers, I will come for you in the worst way possible. If you don’t rekindle this marriage with her, I will make your life a living hell. We might not like each other anymore, but we both love her, and if I ever see you making her sad again, you can dig your own grave. You will fix this marriage, no matter the cost, are we in the clear?”

He slowly let go of Jaehyun after luring out a reluctant nod from him. Latter cleared his throat and asked, “... but, do you think she even still wants to be with me?”

This time, Jaemin’s smile was sincere. “I’m absolutely sure about that. Show her again the reason why she was picking you over me, again and again. Remind her of all the traits that make you so much better for her than me, and she will choose you again. If she hasn’t already. Or do you not want t-”

“I do!” Jaehyun blurted out. “I absolutely do.”

Jaemin stretched out his arm and gave his former friend’s shoulder an encouraging squeeze. “Very well.”

When he made his way to the door, Jaehyun stopped him with the words, “Thank you. Honestly.”

Initially, he wanted to turn around, but it was starting to burn behind his eyes, so Jaemin kept his back turned to Jaehyun and said,

“Don’t make me regret this.”

____

Jaemin threw his phone into the bushes on his way out.

So, what now?

He turned his head to the sky, and even though the tears started streaming down his face now, he tucked his hands into the pockets of his jacket and smiled through the blurriness. The wind was cold and burned his wet cheeks, and suddenly, it started snowing again.

This pain would vanish, he was sure of that. When you had fixed your marriage, got children and grew old together, his pain would eventually pass in this timeline. 

Yet, at that moment, it felt like it ripped Jaemin’s heart to shreds, even to the point where he wondered if he was actually tricking himself into believing that he would be fixed again or had to live the rest of his life with this ache slowly eating him up from the inside until there was nothing left of him anymore except for the frayed edges of his once so lively soul.

Jaemin took a deep breather and swallowed the next wave of tears.

He had no regrets, despite everything. And he still had hope. As long as there was that and he was able to hold onto these faint strings, he would continue on.

A fresh start, that was what he needed now as he trotted to his car. Far away from you and Jaehyun so that your paths would never cross again in this lifetime. That was the last selfless act he could still offer to you.

America sounded good.

[bewaryofpity]

MERRY CHRISTMAS, I MISS YOU - N. HISCHIER

[6.7k] when you received a call from your ex on christmas eve, the last thing you wanted to do was to pretend you're still together in front of his parents.

warnings: 18+, exes to lovers, angst but not really, fluff, unprotected p in v (wrap it up !), creampie, oral both f and m receiving, slightly unedited, if i missed anything pls let me know

a/n: i have no idea what this is lol, i did lose the plot at some point so the ending i planned didn’t make it and so didn’t the title, anyhow i think it’s best this way. i hope you all enjoy ! feedback is greatly appreciated ♡

A year had passed, it was December again and Nico had done nothing if not being stuck with the same feeling of missing you. Almost an entire year of no contact, apart from a few congrats texts for your occasional achievements, and yet there he was staring at his phone for the third time tonight, his thumb hovering over your name. 

Nico was no coward, he needed to keep his head on his shoulders for his line of work, but he was certainly trying to find any excuse to keep him from calling you. Almost one year of convincing himself that he moved on, that he was content with how your relationship has ended, just for all that progress to crumble at his feet because he was, actually, a coward. 

But this wasn’t just about him. His parents were in town for Christmas for the first time in years, excited to finally spend the holidays in New Jersey with his son. And they expected you to be there. He hadn’t told them you two broke up, though. He couldn’t. He was never able to break the news to his mom who considered you as her daughter, and he had to pay the price now.

With a heavy sigh, Nico pressed call. He immediately started to regret calling, cringing at the idea of a missed call on your phone if he hung up now, when the ringing stopped.

“Hello?” You said, voice coated with slight confusion. Nico felt a punch to the chest at the sound of your voice, all at once familiar and foreign.

“Hey, it’s me.” Nico’s voice faltered.

“I know.” You promptly utter. Silence fell on the line.

“It’s been a while, I know,” Nico mumbled “but I need a favor.” You hummed as an acknowledgement for him to keep speaking. 

“My parents are in town for Christmas and they expect to see you.”

“I don’t see why they—”

“I never told them.”

Nico was almost sure you hung up for how quiet you became. His heart drumming in his chest was making him more helpless than he already was, unable to come up with something else to say. 

His phone sat heavy on his hand when he heard you take a deep breath. A nervous laugh escaped your mouth, what the hell whispered in between. 

“You’ve had all this time to tell them we broke up, what were you waiting for?” Your voice lacked judgment. 

“I know I messed up,” he said, desperation creeping into his voice. “But they’re here now, and I—I didn’t know how to tell them. It’s Christmas tomorrow, Y/N. They’re so excited to see you. I just need you to come tonight or tomorrow. Please.”

“Nico—”

“It’s just one dinner. Then you’ll never have to hear from me again. I swear. If not for me, do it for them at least.”

He could almost see your furrowed eyebrows and the silence on the line was suffocating him again. Your calm breathing was making his chest tight, not ready to brace for rejection.

“Okay.”

He took a long exhale, “thank you.” He spoke softly, a small smile painting his lips.

Before he had the chance to speak up, you had already hung up. Nico sat back, his head tipping against the edge of the couch, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling while bringing his arm down with a thud. Your voice still echoed in his ears, each word carving a hollow space in his chest. Your voice was as warm as he remembered, yet so flat.

Y/N: spare key still under the mat? i’m coming after work, not sure about tomorrow.

Nico’s phone vibrated in his hand, your text’s preview giving him some reassurance.

Nico: yes Nico: and thank you

He pushed himself off the couch, his body feeling heavy. It wasn’t long before he had to go and pick up his parents from the airport. He absentmindedly picked up his car keys and walked out to his car.

It was supposed to be simple. A call, a favor, a dinner. But he has been clinging to the idea of you, of what you used to be, that he now felt like facing the consequences of his own actions instead of dragging you back into his life would have been a much better idea. 

Nico didn’t realize the drive, the pick up, and the drive back to his apartment had already happened. Tension began coiling in his chest, the heavy weight he kept feeling for days now coming back.

He didn’t want to see you, actually. Or maybe he did. His mind was bringing him back to the night you both had reluctantly agreed that a break up was needed. It was no secret to you that he didn’t want to break up, he told you then. He wasn’t happy, he felt like dying for the most part. He couldn’t sleep, let alone leave his apartment if not for practice and games. But that was what you wanted and he gave it to you.

“You okay in there, kid?” His dad’s call out echoed from the living room, bringing him back to reality. 

“Yeah, I just needed water.” Nico called back. When he turned around to join them in the living room, he was met with his mom leaning on the kitchen doorway. With eyes wide, he gave her a tight lipped smile, hoping she won’t question his behavior. I’m fine wouldn’t have been enough for her, she could always see right through him, and even if Nico told her the truth it probably wouldn’t have made him feel any better.

Before she could say something, the front door opened and his mom jumped to see you, forgetting about his son, and Nico stayed there with goosebumps forming on his arms, hot and cold shivers running down his spine. 

Upon entering you heard a brief silence. You didn’t even register that his mom was right there that she already jogged to bring you in her arms. You were frozen in your space for a second, unsure of what to do. The last time you’d seen each other was the summer Nico brought you to Switzerland where everything felt so right. Yet here you were. You missed her, that was true; she reached out to you a few times, and despite knowing it was out of the kindness of her heart, you couldn’t help but think of how many excuses Nico threw at her for your not being around. How he lied to his mom for all this time was something you couldn’t comprehend.

“Oh, it’s so good to see you, sweetheart!” She cheered, parting slightly from the hug and giving your shoulders a comforting squeeze.

“Hi, Mrs. Hischier.”

“Please, how many times do I have to tell you to just call me Katja.” She waved you off and you smiled. His dad followed, giving you a simple side hug.

As his parents continued fussing over you, Nico finally moved to the living room to watch the scene unfold. You stood in his apartment again and it felt like you never left. You were beautiful and you had those rosy cheeks you would get from the cold wind of Jersey that Nico loved so much. The ache in his chest grew and it was getting hard to resist the tears that kept forming in his eyes since this morning.

When you made eye contact with Nico it was like someone punched you in the chest. His brown eyes were glossy, wide like a deer in headlights. He didn’t shave, not that he did often, but it looked less kept than it usually was.

You reluctantly stepped towards him, gaze focused on his chest and that’s when you saw his left hand twitch in your direction before he brought it back down. It completely left your mind that you couldn’t keep your distance from him now with his parents here. Though the moments you two kissed in front of family were almost nonexistent, Nico was always the kind of guy to keep you close within arm reach, so no physical contact would be odd.

So you did the most natural thing you could do. You gave him a hug. Your skin was burning where he was touching you. It felt like that night again and you wanted to disappear. You felt his heart rapidly thumping in his chest, or maybe it was yours. It didn’t really matter. Nico looked at his mom before he looked down at you. He was getting overwhelmed with the amount of times he almost cried only today and prayed for the day to come to an end sooner.

“Hey.” Your voice was small, audible only to him. He replied with an equally small hey, throat dry. Silence stretched between you and you could feel the tension on your skin. A small part of you couldn’t part ways as you inhaled his scent. The warmth from his chest was seeping through his hoodie and you wished you could just stay there a little longer.

You barely drew back when Katja put a hand on your shoulder and brought you back into her with a side hug. 

“Come, sit. Let me catch you up while we eat. I’ll show you some pictures from this summer, it was a shame you couldn’t come to Switzerland this time.”

You casted a glance at Nico which he avoided. You barely registered Katja’s words as she scrolled through her phone for you and all you could think of was how she deserved to know. She looked so happy sharing these memories with you, as though you still belonged here, and it wasn’t her fault that she believed so. 

“Next time, you have to come. We missed you so much.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

You swallowed hard, forcing another smile. Nico shifted in his chair beside you, his hand reaching for his water but his posture was rigid. He didn’t say a word, you could feel the tension radiating off him silently acknowledging the lie hanging in the air. A part of you wanted to say something, to clear the air, because his mom was kind, but it wasn’t for you to deal with. It wasn’t you that lied.

The pizza in front of you looked unpleasant as the ache in your stomach made you more nauseous. 

*

You wanted to go home. Nico’s parents called it a night early blaming it on jet lag and that tomorrow is gonna be a big day, his father said.

You were left alone with Nico in the living room, neither of you were saying anything. You were just staring ahead paying no mind to whatever Christmas movie was left playing softly on the TV.

It was awkward. You put yourself in this situation because you missed Nico, truthfully. When he called you this morning you weren’t really thinking of what was best for you, you just wanted an excuse to come back to him. Selfish as it was. It was rather hypocritical that you craved his presence again after you were the one to propose the break up. But you spent two years together so your whole life consisted of him. He was everywhere, your apartment smelled like him even months after he left, things he left behind that both of you have forgotten about were lingering in a corner in your closet. It took time letting him go from your mind, but you were here and it felt so wrong. The look he gave you when you parted from your hug earlier made you feel so guilty.

“I’ll sleep here, you can take the bed.” Nico said softly, voice above a whisper. You startled anyway, jerking your head in his direction. You had told him earlier that to not raise any suspicion with his parents, you would spend the night here.

“It’s your bed.” You replied with the same tone. He looked at you now, his brown eyes glowing in the dim light emanating from the TV. You couldn’t take the bed, it would smell like him and you could endure it only so much before going crazy. 

“It doesn't matter.”

“What are you gonna tell them when they find you here in the morning?” He didn’t answer, instead he brought his focus back to the TV. Were you going to regret this? Probably. “Just come to bed with me, Nico.”

Avoiding his gaze, you slowly began walking towards his room, your feet moving on their own accord. Everything was left the same. The pit in your stomach grew tighter when you pushed the door to his room open and blindly reached for the lamp on the nightstand. The patter of Nico’s feet grew louder until he reached his bedroom’s doorway.

“There’s still some clothes you left here.” He motioned to the dresser next to him. You hummed in response and as he rummaged through one of the drawers, you stood by the bed like you couldn't move. Idiot. If you weren't staring at him so intensely you would've missed how shaky his hands were when he reached for you to grab at your clothes. You peered up for a second, his gaze focused on the clothes in his hand heavy.

“I’ll–”

“Yeah.”

The bathroom door clicked shut behind you, your forehead coming to rest on it. He was beautiful. And he made your heart warm like he always knew how to. But he wasn’t the Nico you always knew, you could see it in his eyes. Fear started pooling in your stomach. Was it your doing? You avoided the mirror in front of you completely.

After hastily changing and brushing your teeth, you joined him back into the room. He was already under the covers, on his usual side, front facing the window. You quietly got under the blanket too and laid close to the end of the bed staring at the ceiling. The hum of the heater filled the silence, yet the weight of unspoken words pressed down on your heart.

“Never thought you’d say yes.”

You took your time to respond and kept staring at the white ceiling illuminated by the moonlight coming through the curtains’ gap.

“Why?”

The rustling of the covers filled the silence as Nico shifted slightly. 

“You made it seem like you wanted nothing to do with me anymore.”

“I don’t regret you, Nico.”

“I never said you did.”

You exhaled sharply. The weight of the duvet became unbearable, and with a swift motion you shoved it off, pooling in your lap; arms followed with a dull thud, slamming onto the bunched-up duvet. The cold air nipped at your exposed burning skin.

“Talk to me.” You breathed. Nico didn't move and you were growing frustrated. “Do you regret it?”

“Being with you? Sometimes. I made many mistakes and you were always there for me and I took that for granted. I pushed you away when you needed me most, and by the time I realized it, it was too late. I know you deserve so much better but deep down, I wish we didn't end that night, we just stay there and talk it out.”

“I think that maybe I would always let you come back” he said softly, almost inaudibly, “not that I waited for you, exactly. But when I called you this morning and you agreed, I had the tiniest hope that things could change. If you came, and at the end of the night told me you still loved me and asked me to be yours again… I'm not sure there’s anything in the world I wouldn't have done for that to really happen.”

Shuffling towards the middle of the bed, your hand reached for him to comb through his hair, his body jumping a little at the unexpected contact. He shifted a little to get closer to you and turned around to face you.

“You’re awful.”

“What?”

“Don’t say things like that,” you said, your voice low and strained. “Not when we’re lying here like this. I didn’t leave because I stopped loving you, Nico, I left because I didn’t recognize us anymore. You were indifferent, coming home upset and angry more often than not all because of your job. I could’ve respected that, I would’ve listened to you if you opened up to me. But you didn’t talk to me anymore and I didn’t know what to do with you, it’s like you were holding a knife to my chest and slowly pushing it deeper until you reached my heart. It got to a point where I dreamed of you asking me questions, talking to me, desiring me like you always did. Then I’d open my eyes and you're someone different.”

“Maybe in another lifetime we will find each other at the right time. Maybe we end up like this in each one, but I like to believe there is at least one where we deserve each other. I just don't think it’s this one.”

Your hand never stopped caressing through his hair. It didn’t take long for a stray tear to fall from your eye just as Nico closed his eyes to avoid his own spilling over the pillow with no avail. You halted your movements to bring your thumb under his eye and wipe at the loose tears. He didn’t say anything else, and neither did you. Nico grabbed at the covers you bunched up earlier to cover you again.

You shifted slightly, the duvet brushing against your arm as your body relaxed fully into the mattress. You felt his warmth beside you — steady and grounding. The minutes dragged on, and eventually both of your breathing slowed, evening out into sleep. 

*

It was early in the morning when Nico woke up. The sunrise barely peeked through the curtains, casting a soft glow over his bed. It took him a while to realize that it wasn’t his duvet weighing on his chest, it was you. Your face was mushed and lips pouty, his right arm wrapped around you securely. You looked like an angel.

He didn’t have it in his heart to wake you up. Instead, his gaze lingered on your peaceful expression, focused on the soft rise and fall of your breaths that tickled his skin, a steady rhythm that made his chest ache. His thumb brushed against your shoulder lightly, a barely-there touch because it all felt like a dream and he didn’t want it to end. He sighed softly, tilting his head back against the pillow and closing his eyes again. The weight of your body lulled him back to sleep, the hold on you loosening slightly but never letting go.

Moments later, the morning light shining on your eyes stirred you awake, and you couldn’t help but blink groggily. The warmth surrounding you was so comforting that you couldn’t resist burying your face into it and that’s when your heart began to race. Nico’s face was so close you only needed to make the slightest movement before his lips would graze your forehead; his features relaxed and peaceful in his sleep. The stubble on his jaw caught the morning glow, and the soft strands of his hair brushed against his forehead.

Every instinct screamed at you to move, to untangle yourself from the undeniable comfort of being close to him again, but the minutes passed and the blush on your cheeks deepened with every second you lingered. When it became too much to bear, slowly, carefully, you slid out from under his arm, your movements cautious to avoid waking him. 

Your feet hit the cool floor and the blush now burning like wildfire across your cheeks while you tiptoed to the kitchen, closing the door gently behind you. The conversation with Nico kept replaying in your head, or rather the fact that he was crying, and Nico never cried in front of you unless they were happy tears. 

You relished in his touch. The feeling of his stubble on your hands was something you never thought you’d miss, yet the rough texture was rather comforting. And then this morning when his lips have probably grazed your skin in your sleep at least once, you wished you were conscious to savor it like you actually didn't deserve. 

“Huh?”

“I said good morning and merry Christmas.” Katja smiled brightly at you, Rino mirroring her action while also raising his coffee cup. You looked ridiculous still in your rumpled makeshift pajamas and your face still flushed from the morning’s events. 

“Oh, merry Christmas.” You offered a small smile as you moved to pour yourself some coffee, hyper aware of their presence. Despite the blush painting your cheeks, you started to feel cold. The t-shirt Nico gave you was thin, an old band shirt you left behind, but the pants were scrunched at your feet. He didn’t notice they were actually his yesterday, they were always yours to wear anyway.

“You’re up early,” Katja remarked, setting her coffee cup on the table. “I thought for sure you two would sleep in after staying up so late talking.”

Your hand froze mid-reach, “yeah, just couldn’t sleep much.” You replied, hoping your tone was casual enough.

She gave you a look but said nothing, her warm demeanor unchanging though she definitely knew something was off. Did she actually hear what you said yesterday night? The walls couldn’t be that thin, right? The sound of footsteps from the hallway behind you woke you up a little, and you didn’t need to turn around to know it was Nico.

“Morning,” he said, his voice gravelly from sleep. You turned slightly, catching sight of him leaning against the counter next to you. His brown hair was disheveled and his shirt slightly wrinkled, but his expression was almost unreadable. If you didn’t know otherwise, you would’ve mistaken his slightly puffy eyes for sleepiness.

His gaze lingered on the ground for a moment, and then he tilted his head up, noticing the way you had wrapped your free arm around yourself. Before you could protest, Nico walked out of the kitchen. Katja glanced at you confused after he barely acknowledged her or Rino.

“Here,” he said, holding his black hoodie from yesterday out to you. It was your favorite, the one that was so fuzzy inside it felt like a blanket and the one he would leave behind for you when he left for road trips. You blinked, momentarily stunned by the gesture. 

“Oh, I’m fine—”

“You’re shivering.” He interrupted, his voice firm but gentle. His gaze met yours and reluctantly you took the hoodie, your fingers brushing his briefly as you did.

“Thanks.” You mumbled, slipping it over your head. The warmth was immediate, just like the familiar trace of his scent as it filled your senses. What made it impossible to bear was Nico leaning over just slightly to press a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead. Blush be damned.

Nico moved around the kitchen to pour himself some coffee as you caught the faintest hint of a smirk on Katja’s face. As she walked past to place her now empty cup in the sink, she leaned close to you with the same sly smile still playing on her lips.

“We’re not gonna let Nico cook alone later, right?”

*

The day went by fast and dinner was long done. The unavoidable intimacy seemed to dissipate the cold demeanor you had opted for yesterday when you arrived, just as Nico started to look less dejected. Letting him back in your life wouldn’t be that bad, after all, you did drop everything to be here with him. You still loved him, just like he did you, but you couldn’t accept coming back to Nico after all this pain you left him with.

“What happened between you and Nico?”

The question made you falter, almost dropping the already slippery plate in your hands. There was no you and Nico anymore. Whatever happened between you two didn’t matter anymore as now none of it made sense. It was your mistake all along, the break up. Because if it wasn’t for a bad day at work for the both of you, you wouldn’t have fought and none of this would have happened.

“Why?”

“You two seem off.”

You wanted out of the relationship for your own sake, yet you didn’t realize how much you were hurting until yesterday. The no escaping his touch or his gaze made your head dizzy because it took you months before you convinced yourself that you were fine without him, and now that Nico was gentle to you even in the mess he created that he so wanted to disappear from, your newfound façade was long gone.

“Nothing. Our schedules clashed often and we didn't have much time for ourselves.”

Part of it was true if you thought back to last year. With Nico constantly on road trips and his team not playing their best, and your job keeping you away from him, the only time you saw each other was during nighttime. And with both of you exhausted there wasn’t much to say without striking a nerve.

Katja leaned her hip on the counter, leaning slightly to try to read your expression, your eyebrows furrowed as you kept scrubbing the same plate over and over again. 

You didn’t notice Nico lingering by the door until his mom placed a hand on your shoulder. You turned around in his direction as she walked past him with a good night under her breath, just as Nico came to stand in her previous spot.

“How long have you been standing there?” 

“Long enough to tell you that that plate is clean enough.”

You handed him the last plate with a sigh and as you waited for him to dry it, you couldn’t help but stare at his faint smile. Before you could stop yourself, your hand reached for his cheek, brushing at the small new scar there. His movements hesitated for a moment before turning to face you, your hand dropping slightly at the action. You almost missed the way his gaze dropped to your lips for a split second before looking back into your eyes.

Maybe it was the wine you both drank earlier or maybe it was meant to happen. Nico leaned down, cupping your face to kiss you. It was gentle, a bit hesitant, almost as if he was giving you space to pull away. But you didn’t, not even if your brain told you so.

He pulled away, lips still brushing yours and his eyes closed. You missed his lips on yours, so soft and tender just as you remembered and desperately wished to feel again.

“I’m sor—“

You didn’t let him finish as you put your lips back on his, hands making their way from his chest to wrap around his neck. You were desperate for more, fearing that the moment would end too soon, but Nico squeezed your hip a little to ground you. He wasn’t going anywhere.

His tongue brushed your lips and you let him in. A small moan escaped his mouth and you couldn’t help but feed into it. A faint taste of wine still lingered on his tongue, sweetness clouding your thoughts.

“Please tell me to stop”

“No, don’t stop.”

Both of his hands trailed their way around your body, eager to feel every curve of your body again. He needed to feel you, keep his hands on you to ground himself because he was scared this actually never happened and it was just a sick joke his mind was playing.

As the kiss grew more sloppy and hands roaming with no set purpose, Nico held you impossibly closer to him, his body heat burning against your skin. He held tightly onto your waist, murmuring a small jump against your lips as he hoisted you up the counter, legs instinctively wrapping around his lower back.

The overwhelming feeling of it all almost made you cry. It was tender, yet the way your lips moved set a different pace.

“Take me to bed, Nico.”

He gently pushed away strands of hair that had fallen in front of your eyes before his hand rested on your cheek. “We don’t have to, we can stop now and it’ll all be okay.”

“I need you to make love to me.” And Nico grabbed at your thighs, keeping you tight against his chest as he walked to his bedroom. You didn’t have to tell him twice, he just wanted to give you space in case this was too much.

He laid you gently on the bed and kissed you again, fervor replaced by love. He pecked your lips before pressing another kiss to your cheek.

“You’re so beautiful.” He said as one of his hands traveled up your hoodie, leaving a tingling trail where he had touched you, while the other one gave him support by your head.

You brought his lips back on yours, thumbs tracing every curve of his cheeks. Beard tickling your skin, his plush lower lip found its way between yours, and he allowed his mouth to smile against yours for the first time today. You were lost in the feeling of him, and so was him with yours, lips brushing as though this was the lifetime in which you were meant for each other. 

What you once knew as love filled both of your hearts again. This wasn’t fair. His hands on you, his lips on you, you in his bed. It wasn’t fair because you broke his heart, just as you broke your own.

“Take my hoodie off.” You whispered and he obliged. Nico’s nose skimmed along your neck, delighting himself in the way your skin felt along the warmth of his own. And he allowed himself to slide down to trace the skin of your collarbone, then kissing along the ridges of your ribs and allowing himself to drown once more in you.

As his lips reached your hips, he looked up at you smiling so sweetly, a sort of reassurance painting your face. He slid your jeans off before he brought himself up to you, reveling in the feeling of your chest meeting his own with every heaving breath. The soft lace of your bra brushed his chest, catching the curves and edges of his skin.

It had been too long since you’d felt his touch —or anyone’s for that matter— so the touch of his hands against your skin was enough to fuel the pulsing ache between your legs. 

You took his hand in yours, placing a kiss on the center of his palm before slowly guiding his hand down to your center. And Nico never stopped looking at you, not even when the feeling of the damp fabric as he slid a finger over your clothed slit made a groan escape his lips.

He left a trail of open-mouthed kisses on his way back to your thighs, discarding your bra in the process. You whined when he nipped his teeth against the sensitive skin of your thigh, and you whined again at the soft brush of his mustache on the same spot.

Gently pushing your panties aside, Nico stroked two fingers along your now-bare slit, heat rushing to his cheeks at the way your hips involuntarily rolled into him, chest heaving at his touch. 

“Is this okay?” You nodded in response and he didn’t wait much before dipping into your core. With a gentle grip, he pushed your thighs apart, kissing your folds before licking a long stripe over them. 

And Nico was in heaven as you squirmed under his touch, reveling in the feeling of your warm thighs caging his head as soft moans escaped your mouth. The scratch of his beard sent jolts down your spine and when he added a finger inside of you, you couldn’t help the buckle of your hips against his mouth.

Your hand busied through his hair, fingers tugging at his roots gently and the vibrations from his groans against your clit sent you overwhelming waves of pleasure. You sounded like an angel to his ears and Nico had to roll his hips onto the bed sheets to soothe himself just a little bit.

“Please give it to me, baby.” Nico murmured against your core as he added another finger.

And you dared to look down at him, so concentrated in getting a taste of you, gently and slowly because he missed this and his body yearned for a taste of you like a drug.

The feeling of his fingers curling inside of you in the right spots and his tongue applying pressure on your clit were enough for the air to leave your lungs. With a moan, slightly too loud, you came on his fingers and Nico held you against him to catch every single drop of your release.

“You taste so sweet, baby.”

Baby. You opened your eyes to see his cheeks red, your arousal coating his chin and he’s looking at you like you hung the moon through hazy eyes. It didn’t come as a surprise to you when a tear fell from your eyes, and soon you couldn’t stop them from running down your cheeks.

He kissed his way up to you with a sort of urgency to cradle your face in his hands. And the tears didn’t stop when he tried to kiss them away.

“I’m right here, you’re okay.”

“I love you. I’m sorry.”

It was the only thing you could say, really, unsure whether the apology was directed to yourself or him. But it didn’t really matter because he was here now, in your arms, sensitive and tender as ever. 

“Nico”

“Mh?” His face mere inches away from yours, noses and lips brushing.

“Let me take care of you.”

Nico would have told you no, because he didn’t need your mouth to show him you still loved him, your words were more than enough to him. But your hands moved from his shoulders down to his chest, stopping right at his heart and he knew you could feel his heart racing up. 

So he let you guide him on his back as you shifted on top of him, straddling his thighs before kissing your way down. You mouthed at the skin on his neck, focusing on sucking at the pulsing point connecting at his shoulder.

His abs clenched under the touch of your hands and a staggered breath left his lips when your face reached the band of his boxers. You kissed around his hips, delicate fingers tracing up and down his thighs as you teased his tip over his boxers with a kiss, causing it to jump under your touch. You noticed a small damp spot and you smiled, pulling down his boxers agonizingly slow. Eager as he has always been with you, you knew it took every ounce of control for him not to lose himself then.

You brought your hand to the base of his cock, his breath hitching as you pumped him slowly, and squeezing just slightly to milk precum out of his tip. You followed the vein from the base to his tip with your tongue as your thumb pressed over the leaking slit, hips jumping at your touch.

“Please don’t tease me.” He whined under his breath, watching as you brought your thumb to your lips. And how could you say no to that?

You parted your lips to suck at his tip, sinking down until you reached his base and Nico shivered underneath you at the contact with the back of your throat. Your mouth continued to work around him, and he whimpered as you flatten your tongue to take more of him into your mouth. And he was drowning in pleasure as you used one of your hands to wrap around what you couldn’t take in your mouth as the other gripped at his thigh.

You made eye contact with him when his right hand caressed through your hair and you moaned around him, a few strands of his hair sticking to his forehead and chest flushed. You felt his cock twitch inside of you and you knew he was close. He was in such a haze he almost missed that a few more strokes of your tongue would’ve made him come, and he didn’t want that. He wanted to relish in the feeling of your walls for that.

A soft stop left his lips just as his hand carefully pulled at your hair to get you off him. And the sight of you, lips parted and wet and subtly swollen, weren’t helping his cause.

He shifted his weight onto his elbow, other hand cradling your face to pull you in for a chaste kiss. 

“Let me be yours.”

“You’ve always been.”

With his head on your shoulder, he gently pushed you down onto your back. Nico lifted himself to his knees, sliding his boxers down his legs and slipping out of them before hovering you again and removing your panties. His forehead came to rest against yours, eyes fluttering shut as he paused in his movements to take it all in. He had you again and he needed to make the most out of his time, fear looming in the back of his mind that you’d still leave tomorrow without a word.

Your hands cupped his jaw and you arched forward to capture his lips on yours. It was slow, his fingers curling around the nape of your neck, pulling you closer. Eagerly, he pressed into your touch, the soft weight of his chest pressing into yours comforting.

Your legs wrapped around his torso hoping to get some relief from your aching core. And Nico never stopped kissing you as he aligned himself with your entrance, teasing you with his length along your slit and causing you to buck, moans suppressed by his saccharine lips.

As he inched in, deeper into you, Nico savoured your warmth as if you were made just for him —and truthfully you were— movements deliberate and steady just like how he knew you liked.

He didn’t want to seem desperate but you were squeezing him tight, nails digging into his back and your arms wrapped tightly around him refusing to let him go. With the heels of your feet pressing into his lower back, he knew not to be ashamed for your desperation matched his. 

His body curled over yours, nose poking at your jaw so he could bite at your throat as he keeps fucking into you. One hand came to cup the back of your neck bringing you impossibly closer, and the way he was whispering dirty little nothings, lips brushing the shell of your ear, brought you to the edge.

Nico’s set thrusts urged you ever closer to your peak as he rolled his hips into yours, movement heavy inside of you, his fingers dropping to draw circles on your sensitive clit as your labored murmuring for more fanned against his lips. And you were an angel with the way you took him, welcoming him in at the gates of heaven with your honeyed sounds.

You rushed forward, chasing his lips as your release surged through you, tightening around him with a sweet sigh and his tongue swept into your mouth as he drowned your moans. His own release followed right after, emptying inside of you. The sound of his satisfied groan blissful to your ears as he came to rest on top of you.

Heaved breathing, Nico’s head settled on your chest and you made to sweep his hair from his eyes to admire the sweat-sheen glow adorning his warm skin. Your hands worked at his shoulder, kneading the muscles there as you took every opportunity to feel his skin against yours.

Nico shifted on his side and brought you with him, taking a moment to press a kiss to his pec, his neck and his lips once again. 

“Will you let me stay?”

“I don’t think you really need my answer to that.”

Nico slid his hands up your side, bringing your thigh over his hip. His large palm heavy as you shifted impossibly closer, one hand rubbing his scalp. And you kissed him without lust, simply reveling in the feel of his tongue dancing against yours, while he followed your lead wordlessly, squeezing so tenderly at your hip because this time he knows you will be there tomorrow. And any other day after.

[8-rae-rae-8]

CoD AU where Soap moves into Ghost's childhood home to start fixing it up, where carpets were stained in blood, walls with fist-shaped holes, mold on every ceiling, water damage in the roof... And it's Soap's job to make it a home. He saw the state of the place, and knew it needed gutted. But it looked like it was once a quaint little place, somewhere it would've been pristine if a kind family had been the ones who moved in those 35-odd years ago.

Johnny's going to fix it up, because that's the line of work he's decided on now his knee is permanently braced and his SAS tattoo is scarred to hell. He saw the potential in the place, the perfect layout, the fireplace, the gorgeous backsplash in the kitchen. All it needed was love. Love that it never got before, not to the wood floorings, it's clear in blood that seeped into them.

Everything needed gutted, and Johnny made it his best effort to make the house a home that it clearly never had been before. Thats what he does, loves things far too much, makes it his entire job to make it better. He'll make it a home.

And he does—he cleans up and scraps everything. All of the walls come down, floor is ripped out, everything gets replaced. It's years in the making, years Johnny is so fucking pleased to do. He's on his own, mostly. Making the choices, gladly. He'll lay each brick if that's what it takes. Something speaks to him about this place, that he can make it somewhere worth loving.

He changes things here and there, adds charm where it was lacking. Delicate wooden crown moulding, handcrafted railings over the stairs, a carpet runner down the entryway.

And by the end, there's an open house.

And a little card left in the mailbox that Johnny knew was empty since he replaced it. A messy cursive, not in an envelope but just tossed in. His name at the top..

"Soap,

Thank you for fixing up the place. I grew up here, not the finest place, my mum did her best. But, I think you really found her vision and perfected it. You saw the potential, like she did. It's better than I could've thought... I didn't know it could be fixed, or even cleaned. But thank you, for making it a home. It always had the potential to be a home. You did it justice.

-SR XXXX-XXX-XXX"

[goopgirlie813]

There's this anxiety being expressed here that if we don't have prisons and the proposed programs fail, that we will have no protection against those Dhamer and Breivik types. When proposing a new and unfamiliar way of structuring society, people want assurance that they will have some method to guarantee safety that is at minimum on par with what we have now. If prison abolition cannot protect people from something that prisons can, people are going to pick prisons.

The subtext behind these responses is that people prioritize safety and security over idealistic visions. People are expressing that prisons offer a concrete solution to the threat of Dahmer types (lock them where they cannot access victims) and they don't see an equally concrete solution from your proposal. That is a massive safety risk. They do not want to take that risk. They want assurance that your proposal can protect them and their loved ones as reliably or more reliably than the prison system. The fact that they keep asking shows that they do not yet have that assurance.

So the questions people are worried about here: the prison system kept Dahmer from killing more people. Would yours be able to do the same? How can I be sure that the "Dahmers" of the future will not cause more carnage under your system than under the prison system? What is your system's plan B? What are the failsafes? Where is the redundancy (we NEED redundancy to accomodate failures)? How can I know that my loved ones will be safe?

Your proposal is competing with the prison system in multiple metrics. For everyone here, the metric of concern is reliability. You have to prove that your system is as reliable or more reliable at stopping and preventing violence than the prison system. Keyword, "Prove." As in, demonstrated in reality and not just mapped out in a hypothetical scenario.

To be clear here, I am not saying your proposal is bad. I don't really disagree with you and you bring up some good points. But even I would not be willing to risk reducing the safety of my loved ones by jumping in before the details are nailed down. The prison system isn't perfect, but it stops certain problems in a way we can see. Most of us will not knowingly throw that away.

Logic alone is not enough to justify replacing an important aspect of society, because if your logic overlooks even a single data point the whole thing could collapse, leaving everyone completely unprotected. This is still in the "hypothesis" stage and we need to actually test and demonstrate it with experimentation before leaning hard into implementation. These criticisms you are recieving are telling you exactly what details you still need to nail down. If you listen closely, they are telling you exactly what steps to take to persuade them.

@organic-homegrown-boyfriend was highlighting a percieved lack of versatility and a concern that your proposal would have blind spots for certain crimes. The question is, "how can your system account for a variety of crimes and motives?" It is a request to explain or propose how your system can measure up to the prison system in terms of addressing complex or difficult crimes. Specifically, he's asking about rape, which is already notoriously difficult to convict people for and which even now many people get away with. To quote him, "how are you thinking that the alternatives you suggested would make the situation better instead of exponentially worse?" How can you guarantee that it will work? Not just how do you think it will work. How do you know it will work? How can I know it will work?

The implication is, "I will not change the system if there is any reasonable chance that it could make it easier for rapists to get away. I will not support prison abolition unless you can assure me that there is no way it will make this situation worse." It is not unreasonable to refuse to do something if you have reason to believe it may increase a problem like that.

@peavers-headache and @jambeast were highlighting a lack of redundancy. A lack of back up plan. The question is, "what do you do if this fails?" Because you need to do something. It is a request to explain or propose back up plans to prepare for the possibility of that scenario. That's important. Do you understand why that's important? Providing an answer covers your bases and grounds your proposal in reality. It shows that you've thought through the logistics and aren't operating purely on ideology. It makes the proposal more reliable. Easier to trust and therefore easier to support.

Point is, criticism often tells you a lot about how the other person is percieving what you say. If you want to persuade, you have to be aware of that and not defensive.

Pretty sure @needabetternamelater has reblogged like 5 of my posts and then blocked me. So that's funny. But, just in case it's just a glitch that won't let me reblog those replies.

What do we do with rapists in a prisonless society? Well, 1. Fewer than 1% of rapists go to prison, so holding up prison as the standard that any other solution has to beat isn't hard. What do with do with rapists in a society with prisons? For 99+%? Not prison.

2. Prisons do not reduce the amount of rapes that happen. So again, prison fails pretty handedly at being both a prevention and a punishment. (It's a bit like arguing 'without the death penalty, what will we do with shop lifters?")

3. I've explain many times, on posts you've responded to, the variety of responses a justice system can have to any crime, including sexual assault. Mandatory counseling, restraining orders, restorative/reparation hearings, housing and employment restrictions, fines, caseworker check ins, mental health consults, and vocational training are all possible responses, and which would would have the best chance of preventing recidivism would depend on the specifics of that person and the risk factors in them reoffending.

In the past, we locked people in pillories and cut off their hands for crimes. Phasing out a cruel and ineffective punishment doesn't mean there's free reign for crime.

[tanadrin]

There's this big gripe I have with a lot of television shows that are dramas, which is that they take the formal elements of modern prestige television--very good cast, high-quality cinematography, terrific music, often even a pretty interesting premise--and just fall completely flat-footed on the execution, because the plot has the structure of a floppy spaghetti noodle.

Plot can be just one damn thing after another, but in general this is not a satisfying way to approach plot. Satisfying plots usually have some kind of structure, build logically to some kind of climax (or even series of climaxes, in serial formats like television), often leveraging diverse dramatic techniques so that even if the plot temporarily veers off into some cul-de-sac or subplot, you feel like the overall momentum of the story is moving forward, is coming to some conclusion. In short, you feel like there is a reason for you to be watching this story in particular, that it has some weight or consequence for its characters, that each sub-element of the overall plot, each chapter or episode or what have you, is in retrospect a necessary element in the story the creator wants to tell, and the audience wants to watch.

(Obviously, for more episodic structures, which a lot of perfectly great TV shows have, the rules are different, because the plot of each episode is partially or wholly discrete; but a key element of modern prestige TV is a serial and not episodic format. I don't know why this is exactly, but I assume it has something to do with the long shadow of The Sopranos and the notion that episodic formats are for cheesy sitcoms or cheap science fiction.)

But almost every prestige drama and quite a few other shows I have tried to watch in like the past--I dunno. Ten years? Maybe not that long, but it sure feels that long--has the floppy spaghetti plot problem. The plot really is just One Damn Thing After Another, usually fuelled by characters having to hand off the Emotional Idiot Ball to one another to generate conflict. Hell, one reason Game of Thrones stood out was that it wasn't this: for all I have ragged on George R.R. Martin, I think he has some notion of structure, and though in a long-running book series you can let that structure expand and breathe, the parts of the show that followed the plot he laid out in advance benefitted strongly from having that structure to guide them. Most showrunners these days seem to think only as far ahead as the next episode, and boy, it shows!

I'm not saying all writers need to be J. Michael Straczynski, and plot their shows out five seasons in advance with multiple escape hatches for various characters in case their actor has to leave the show, but I do think I haven't seen a well-structured serial drama television show since around the time of The Wire. And this lack-of-structure problem has even infected a lot of episodic, decidedly non-prestige TV shows that have tried to incorporate overarching plots into their seasons, which I think is in part due to the idea that serial storytelling is somehow, I dunno... like More Serious Television? Anyway, I wish it would stop. I wish writers and showrunners would care more about structure!

(There's also a related problem where a show will start out with some interesting premise or concept, and abandon it like three episodes in to focus on side plots, despite the premise being the whole draw of the show.)

[taintandviolent]

Baby, it's cold outside ; Oz Cobb x Reader

summary: It's Christmas Eve in Gotham City, and it's bitterly cold, but you're warm up in Oz's penthouse. When he comes home from an event, you're waiting, wrapped up like a little present.

word count & w a r n i n g s: K | older man/younger woman, established relationship, making out, shameless smut, unprotected sex, foreplay in a Santa outfit, santa kink????, christmas themes, very inappropriate use of christmas puns/phrases/themes, fingering (female receiving), festive dirty talk, praise kink, very brief and light bondage, .

a/n: requested by a few anons! I hope it satisfies your festive whore needs for this man!!! not beta read and kinda rushed, but such is life. I wanted to get this out before Christmas Eve. Also speaking of Eve's.... Eve is... MIA I don't know, it's a plot hole, it didn't work out between them, yada yada, but she's not apart of this. all in the name of spice / reader's benefit! banners by @/strangergraphics!

↓ full fic under cut! ↓ / playlist here / ao3 link here! / I don’t have a taglist anymore, but please turn on post notifications if you’d like to be notified of future fics!

Gotham had been hit by a massive blizzard, but you weren’t complaining. It was Christmas Eve, and the snow was welcomed. At least by you, who didn’t have to be out in it. Big, fluffy flakes drifted down from the clouds, and you had a perfect view of the snow-covered city from the large windows. With the music that you’d put on, it felt altogether very Christmas-y.

You were enjoying the snow by yourself for the time being. Oz had left late that afternoon in a Santa suit. Some favor he had to do – couldn’t get out of it. The way he bristled every time you brought it up told you not to ask for too much information.

Christmas was really important to Oz – you assumed it was a favored holiday of his mother’s or something. Which was unsurprising. Everything, in some way, rooted back to his mother. You had come to terms with that, and accepted it. Played into it, even. 

He was insistent on a tree. A big one.

By the first of December, he had a massive one picked out for the living room, and a smaller (but still substantial) one for his mother’s room and had them delivered to the penthouse. You two decorated the big one that night, with cocktails and music. As with everything in his life, Oz was particular about decorating. After a few drinks, you could admit, your tree decorating skills were lacking. You’d lazily hang them in clusters, and Oz would fuss after you, rearranging it until it looked like it had fallen out of a magazine. 

But tonight, the tree was perfect. You crouched down in front of it, flicking a particularly ample bow atop a package. It wobbled and glittered, catching the twinkling lights above it. Most of the presents were yours – you knew this. Every time you turned around, it seemed there were another two tucked under the tree. 

“Doll?” 

Oz’s gruff voice comes from the hallway, echoing against the walls. Your head snaps up, and you straighten, pushing yourself off of your knees – you hadn’t heard him come in. You wrap the fluffy white robe tighter around your body, making sure that it isn’t revealing anything of your surprise. You’d been in the lingerie for a few hours, not knowing when he’d get home.

He rounds the corner, lumbering in with the signature gait that you’ve come to love. Though he’s ditched the hat and beard, he’s still in the classic red and white suit. It suits his stature and you screw your lips up in an amused smile, trying not to laugh at how miserable he looks. Like an excited child, you gallop over, pressing your hands against the plush suit. You trace circles in the fabric and look up at him with your doe eyes and pouting lips. 

“Ohohoh, Santa,” you coo, playfully. “You’re early.” 

Seeming embarrassed, Oz pulls your hand off his chest, holding it for a moment before bringing it to his lips. A small kiss is placed upon your knuckles before he finally speaks. “Ah, cut it out. Lemme’ get outta’ this fuckin’ thing and I’ll –” 

“Ozzy…” You back up, your hands falling to the tie of your robe. “You know, it’s customary to open a present on Christmas Eve.” 

He stops, mid-turn, and squints at you. He knows you well enough to know that mischievous glimmer in your eyes ain’t going away.

“So, open this one.” 

In a fluid motion, you untie the sash and shrug the robe off your shoulders. It falls to the floor, revealing your festive lingerie that you’d picked out weeks ago. You watch Oz’s eyes light up as he takes in the visual in front of him, starting at your feet, which are covered in a pair of red nylons, thigh highs. His gaze travels upwards, pausing to savor the look of the garters stretching over your lush thighs. Your bare stomach tenses at his gaze, before finally, he gets to the bra; a giant red bow that conceals the majority of your ample breasts. He can’t see it, but your nipples harden under the fabric, a reaction to the chill of the room and the heavy weight of his gaze. 

“Fuck…” He shifts, turning back around to face you fully. 

“But I dunno’.... Only good boys get their presents.” 

The words hit him like a ton of bricks. Oz swallows hard and licks his lips. He jerks his head to the side and lets out a breathy laugh, before holding his hands out.  

“Baby, who is dressed like fuckin’ Santa here? I think I’m the one that gets to decide who is naughty or nice, huh?” 

Your fingers toy with the edge of the bra’s bow, teasingly. “Hmm. Well, we all know that I’ve been a good girl this year.” 

“Yeah,” he says, limping over to you. His hands ghost over your nearly bare hips. “Yeah, you fuckin’ have.” 

You look down at his hands, then shoot your gaze back up to his brown eyes. Languidly, you grab his hand, bringing it to your lips to graze your teeth over the pads. Oz shifts his shoulder, trying to fend off the oncoming erection, no doubt. Something about pitching a tent in a Santa suit feels immoral, but you clearly ain’t on his side on this one. 

 “Don’t I get to sit on Santa’s lap and tell him what I want? Huh?” 

You drop your hands, pulling his with them and tugging him towards the velvet sofa. It faces the windows and the tree, which is an incredibly picturesque and romantic background to fuck to, you think. You yank a little harder, though he’s standing stiff, watching you with hesitant eyes. 

“C’mon Ozzy….. C’mooooon.”

Finally, he concedes to your pulling and follows you to the couch, allowing you to guide him to the middle cushion. With a sharp shove, you push him backwards. He hits the couch with a grunt and looks up at you with those big cow eyes of his  – the ones that you can’t resist, no matter what you do. 

He licks his lips again. “What is this, huh?” 

You tap his nose and bend at the waist to stroke his plush-covered thighs. He’s being good; his red trousers aren’t straining yet. You frown playfully, making sure he sees your pitiful little pout. “Where’s your Christmas spirit, hmm?” 

Your hands continue their trailing up to his groin, and one hand palms his cock outside of his pants. Oz shifts his hips backwards at the sudden contact, and he hisses through his teeth.

“Movin’ your way down the list, sweetheart.” 

“Me?” You gasp. It’s a gentle, girlish sound and you feign shock. Your hand grips his cock a little tighter. “I’m the best girl in the world. I’d never be on the naughty list.” 

He chuckles low and looks down at himself. He feels the telltale heat rushing down between his legs, and it won’t be long before the fabric fights against his hardening length. “I dunno’...”

Your hand abandons its post and moves up to his wide stomach, where you quickly unbuckle the large black belt, sliding it through the loops. You throw it around his neck and pull him forward until his nose bumps into your cheek, and his lips meet yours. You kiss him long and hard, tasting him and whatever alcohol was leftover from the event. 

All at once, Oz lets out a deep groan, and reaches up to pull you into his lap. “C’mon, sweetheart. Sit on Santa’s lap, then.” 

You titter happily, and replace the belt with your arms. One knee at a time, you straddle him and lower yourself down. He doesn’t bother putting on a Santa-esque accent when he asks you what you want for Christmas this year, but does throw in a teasing ‘little girl’. 

You hum and raise your eyes to the tall ceilings, thinking. “Well let’s see… should I play Santa Baby for you? Been an awful good girl…” 

“Why don’t you tell me what you really want?” 

Your gaze falls heavy to his, and you smirk, leaning forward. You position your lips next to his ear and whisper a string of festively phrased, lewd desires that make his lips quirk up in a pleased smirk. 

“Stuff your stocking, huh?” he repeats. 

You nod and as if to punctuate your sentence, you grind your hips against his lap and take note of the stiffness that’s there now. A pleased smirk contorts your lips as you look below your bodies. Amidst all the red fabric, there’s a distinct outline, the fabric tenting as his cock swells from all of your teasing. 

You push yourself up on your knees. As you grip the sides of your panties, you lean forward to tug them over the curve of your ass. The position puts your bow-clad cleavage in Oz’s face and he snags the opportunity to kiss the tops of your breasts. “Mm-mm…” 

You pull them down your thighs, until they rest in the crook of your knees. Oz wastes no time in bringing one of his hands up to her. His fingers stroke her delicately, admiring every inch of her, watching as your hips buck and jerk when he nears the already slick slit. 

“This all for me?” 

“Baby, it’s always all for you. ‘Cause you’re always so good, aren’t you, Ozzy?”  

Between your legs, you feel his hips rise instinctively. He’s hard now, and the tip of his middle finger glides between your folds. You whimper and grip his broad shoulder tight, digging your perfectly manicured nails into the fabric. 

As an afterthought, you bring both hands down to his chest. Fluidly, you slip both hands underneath the jacket, and push it over his shoulders, revealing the white shirt underneath. He’s got his suspenders on, which you immediately tug on. You find them incredibly sexy, something that while he never understood, he appreciates. 

His finger plunges into your warm, wet cunt and sets there a moment, just feeling her.You clench around him, and he pulls out, replacing it with two. The girth of his two fingers is always so satisfying, filling you as he pumps in and out. 

His tongue juts out, mere centimeters from your center. He’s not close enough to taste her, but god he wants to. You can tell; the way he licks his lips repeatedly, his eyes locked on his fingers as they slip repeatedly from your slick cunt. She clenches around his thick digits while you moan above him, resting your cheek on the side of his head.

Finally, after a few more pumps, he withdraws his fingers and you immediately reel back, disappointed. He brings them to his mouth, sucking them clean. 

“Fuck,” he murmurs around them. 

The visual has you leaking and clenching around nothing. You long for the filled feeling again, and wiggle your hips to remind him. You reach behind your back, and unclip the bra, letting your tits fall free. “Ozzy, don’t stop…” 

Without another word, Oz lifts you up with both hands, and sets you down on the sofa next to him. Using the arm of the chair, he pushes himself up and turns to face you. Slipping your hands over the silky velvet, you flip over and push your ass up into the air. He makes a fist around your panties and tugs them down over your ankles. He flings them towards the tree, and you can’t help but let out a little chuckle when they catch on a branch, hanging there as one of the most lewd decorations you’ve ever seen. 

Oz pulls your attention back, taking a fistful of your exposed ass. “This pussy is the best fuckin’ present, sweetheart. There ain’t nothin’ I want more than this….” 

You let out a humiliating whine as he toys with her from behind, his fingers sweeping over your entrance. His thumb catches the side of her, and he pulls her apart, exposing the slick, glistening flesh. 

“Shit, baby… fuckin’ soakin’ wet.” 

He pulls the suspenders off his shoulders, and kicks the trousers down. It’s a bit of struggle to get his briefs down, but he finally does it, and grunts, shuffling closer to you and hoisting his good leg up onto the sofa behind you. 

Taking himself in one hand while still holding you open with the other, Oz slips his fat tip inside. It’s enough to make you whimper, desperately, but you know the moans will come as soon as he plunges himself inside. Though Oz loves every position, he particularly likes taking you from behind. He loves watching as he disappears into you, your dripping cunt swallowing him whole with every thrust. 

“Fuck me, Ozzy… fuck me, please, baby…” 

“Heh, don’t gotta’ ask me twice.” he replies, before pushing himself a little further in. His thick cock stretches you wide and you arch your back up, unable to contain the moans that tumble from your mouth. 

“That’s it… mhm…. Just like that - fuck!” 

Your hips meet him halfway, and Oz sinks himself all the way in, fucking into you hard with an immediate rhythm. Your stomach tightens with the waves of pleasure, your hands gripping the side of the sofa hard. 

“Oh my god, oh my g— You’re… you’re so fuckin’ good, Oz. You’re so fuckin’ good, oh my god. N-nobody’s better than you, baby…” 

Though Oz usually fucks you speechless, you’ve gotten in the habit of verbally praising him. If you don’t, he’ll ask for it anyway. It’s something that deeply arouses him, and makes him fuck you all the harder. Which he does. He groans and ruts his hips against your ass, filling the room with the slapping of your bodies as they collide. Silently, you’re glad for the music, which disguises some of the erotic sounds. 

“How’s that dick feel, huh? Tell me it’s good.”

You nod, your mouth dry from breathing so hard. “It’s so good. Big, thick cock feels s-so….” Your sentence is shattered by a string of high-pitched moans, but you quickly regain composure and finish it off. “...good!”

He continues humping your ass, driving himself as far in as he can. The head of his cock repeatedly hits the deepest part of your core, and your eyes roll back in your head. You only need a few more moments of his relentless bullying before your cunt flutters around him, glazing him in warm slick. The dizzying high of the orgasm wraps its hands around your head, forcing it to fall heavy onto the sofa.

The sensation sends Oz over the edge – and he’s genuinely surprised he’s lasted this long. He tenses, his hips lose their rhythm as he shudders over you, bucking and stammering words of pleasure. His release coats his cock as he pulls out of you. 

“God damn,” he pants.

You nod, smushing your face against the cushion. “Yeah. You really…” you swallow. “ Decked my halls.” 

Oz wants to tell you to knock it off, but all he can do is laugh. As he pulls himself from you, his gaze falls to an oblong present under the tree. It’s a necklace; diamonds, with a purple garnet and an amethyst dangling in the middle. Once he showers, he decides he’s gonna give it to you. 

“I’ll be back, doll. Don’t get dressed. I wanna see this present on ya’. Stay just like that.”

 So, you do. 

His cock was enough of a present, but you aren’t about to complain to a man like him. 

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One ThirtyNine

prompt from @mugloversonly @after-the-end-times @spectrum-spectre

It’s a little odd having a birthday banner hanging across the Christmas Tree, but everyone was pretty determined that this is Eddie’s birthday, and that’s a totally different thing to Christmas Eve. So everyone is here; Joyce even baked a proper birthday cake, and now they’re doing the thing where they bring out the cake and everyone sings.

It feels bittersweet to Steve; Eddie’s first birthday. It was a year ago today that Steve pulled Eddie out of the pool. A year ago today Eddie came back to him. He remembers vividly struggling to get Eddie up the stairs. Cleaning all the filth off him. How he’d looked, with no hair at all, all skin and bones, wobbling his way down the stairs. The noise he’d made the first time he ever tried bacon; the startled look on his face the first time he’d ever hiccuped.

Eddie stays where he’s been put, sitting at the head of dining room table, proudly wearing a Birthday party hat. Eddie’s been to a couple of birthdays this year, mainly for the kids, so he knows what’s coming. He looks fucking delighted at the sight of the cake, but he still checks, “I can blow out the candles?”

“Yeap,” Steve tells him.

“Make a wish first!” Joyce calls.

“I wish-”

“Nooooooo!” probably half a dozen people yell, “keep it a secret or it won’t come true,” Robin adds. Eddie stares hard at the candles for a long second, and then he looks up, finding Steve. Steve can see the moment Eddie settles on his wish.

He’s still staring at Steve when he blows them out.

“So...things with Eddie are good then?”

It’s a little uncomfortable, but all the stuff that happened feels like it was a long time ago now. Nancy has definitely been making an effort to build a fresh friendship, and Steve can’t fault her for it, not really. Steve finds Eddie, he can see him through the doorway into the kitchen, making something with Robin and Chrissy, “yeah everything is...great. Like really great.”

“I was...a little surprised, you know?”

“Yeah that’s...understandable,” and it is. Eddie is literally a creature from The Upside Down; he didn’t even look remotely human to begin with, half of him was literally a fish. Plus Steve’s never really been interested in guys before, but he guesses there must have always been a little something there for him to take to it so easily. Granted the circumstances forced his hand a little, and he’s still had a couple of things to work through but...he feels pretty good about it. Besides, Eddie still isn’t even really human, so it probably doesn’t exactly count. Not with his lack of nipples and his downstairs situation anyway; you can’t exactly try to stick Eddie into a category...he’s Eddie, a unique and perfect thing all his own.

In the kitchen, Robin spills something, Chrissy shrieks and Eddie manically dashes for a cloth, cackling. The chaos of it makes Steve smile at them; everyone is at least a few drinks deep, Steve’s sure.

“You really care about him though?” She presses a little. Nancy’s never been able to just let it go, especially if she doesn’t understand it. She always needs to know, Steve’s pretty sure it’s not a nosiness thing; more an understanding thing.

“Yeah, yeah I love him,” Steve tells her unabashed, it is the truth, “he loves me too.”

“You’re sure it’s not just...I mean you did rescue him, plus, where would he even go if you weren't together-”

“Are you suggesting Eddie has some sort of-of-of Stockholm syndrome?” Steve can’t help but laugh, a little incredulous at the suggestion.

“Well no, I just. Think you should both be sure-”

“How are you and Jon then?” Steve cuts her off. He chooses to lean into the spirit of Christmas and assume that Nancy’s concerns all come from a good place. Even so, it’s not a good intention Steve has to tolerate if he doesn’t want to. He raises his eyebrows at her, waiting.

Nancy draws breath, like she’s not done, but then clearly rethinks it and chooses her battle, Steve can see the moment when she decides not to pursue it, sipping her drink before she replies, “yeah, really good,” over her shoulder, Eddie, Chrissy, and Robs have their heads together, the conversation clearly turned serious.

“That’s good Nance,” Steve chooses to be the bigger man, “I’m just really glad you’re both happy,” he tells her pointedly. In the kitchen, Eddie’s turned to find Steve, watching him back. Steve can’t quite decipher the look on his face, but Robin’s clutching his arm, on her toes, speaking urgently to Eddie. She looks kind of panicked, which immediately worries Steve.

“Well, I mean, obviously I want you to be happy, I mean I’m glad, really glad it all worked out for you.”

Eddie has a look on his face that Steve’s pretty certain he’s never seen before. He can’t quite work out what it means other than...Eddie’s pissed. Like, really fucking angry. And he’s marching closer, shaking off both Robin and Chrissy in the process.

Steve has no clue what’s happening as Eddie approaches, pushing Steve away from Nancy to press him against the wall and then...kisses him. Steve has his eyes open, not sure what to make of Eddie’s rage, but he soon lets them slide closed. He melts against the wall. Eddie’s kissing him like he’s got something to prove. He’s almost bitey as he sucks at Steve’s lips, leaving little scrapes that don’t quite break the skin. The passion is surprising, but so fucking hot Steve leans into it fast, matching Eddie’s energy and he sucks on Eddie’s tongue, curling his fingers around Eddie’s hips to pull him closer, no longer wanting to stop to question Eddie’s motives.

Eddie pulls back, pink and flushed, an inch of space between them, panting for breath Eddie asks, “you and Nancy used to be together?”

“I-” Steve can’t help his gaze flicking side wards to Nancy, and then back to Eddie, Eddie’s eyes narrowing at the sight, something flashing in the depths, “yeah?” Steve confirms weakly.

Eddie presses closer, his claws pricking Steve’s skin through his clothes; Eddie’s never been possessive like this before, and Steve is...well they’ve had a lot of sex, and Eddie pressing himself against Steve like this, kissing him like that...Steve’s body is only reacting the way it always does, which is a little mortifying in a room full of people.

Eddie leans his face closer again, his hair brushing Steve’s forehead, his breath warm as he growls, “you had sex with her?”

“Eddie!” Steve splutters, but apparently even that is too much, Eddie has him by the wrist, not quite painful, but very harsh compared to Eddie’s usually gentle nature. Eddie turns, pulling Steve along and he...bares his teeth at Nancy, actually hissing at her on the way past.

“Eddie!” Steve starts again, shocked, this time a reprimand, “be nice!” That’s no way to behave, and Nancy is unnerved enough that she takes a big step back. Steve is dragged along behind Eddie, ending up locked into the downstairs bathroom together. Eddie pins him against the door with his body, kissing Steve soundly.

“Baby,” Steve starts, his words broken by kisses, “what’s gotten into you?”

Eddie just growls. It’s not a sound Steve’s ever heard before, and he can feel it, rumbling in Eddie’s body where their chests are pressed together, “need you.”

Eddie starts nipping at Steve’s throat, stinging kisses that makes Steve’s hips roll, looking for friction against Eddie’s thigh. His brain feels like it’s going a little mushy, Eddie’s being unusually forceful, and Steve’s vaguely aware that everyone is still out there and, probably, are now very aware that they’re shut in here together but...as Eddie’s questing fingers find the button on Steve’s jeans, he’s struggling to care about that stuff.

“We’ve got to be quiet,” Steve breathes out, a final token protest, giving in to what's about to happen. Eddie huffs dismissively, tugging down Steve’s jeans and underwear together, Steve angling his hips away from the door to help. Eddie abandons them there, bunched around Steve’s thighs, surging up for another possessive kiss. Eddie grabs Steve’s bare ass with both hands, his claws digging into the meat a little as he squeezes, pulling Steve against him.

“She not touch you again,” Eddie growls against Steve’s mouth, words choppy, “promise.”

“I...I promise baby, of course,” Eddie stares into Steve’s face, their warm breaths mingling as Eddie inspects him from inches away, like he’s searching for any hint of a lie, “no one else ever again, I swear it.”

Eddie nods once, sharply, before spitting into his palm and grabbing Steve's now, very hard cock. He had no idea he’d be into this, but possessive, bossy Eddie is lighting him up in a way he didn’t know he’d like, his brain turning to mush a little as Eddie touches him. He feels too warm, flushed and sweaty already, the world narrowed down to Eddie’s touch on him, hard and fast, intent on getting him off.

“And you,” Steve’s mouth is insisting before his brain catches up, he needs it, needs to make Eddie feel good too. Eddie doesn’t stop jerking him, but he does slow it down, leaning back a tiny bit, giving Steve space to reach past the bend of Eddie’s own arm to get to the button on his jeans.

Steve sees the fabric move. He can see Eddie’s cock desperately wriggling for freedom beneath his zipper. Eddie’s told him before that it gets real uncomfortable real fast, and Steve tuts quietly, “baby.”

Eddie’s cock forces it's way free before Steve even has the zipper half down, already having found it’s way through the slit in Eddie’s boxers, it rushes into Steve’s fingers, greeting him eagerly and tangling itself firmly there. Eddie groans, shuffling close again. The head of Eddie’s cock opens, setting sucking kisses on every part of Steve’s hand and fingers it can reach. They arrange themselves as Eddie’s hand speeds up again, “fuck, baby, yeah.” Steve’s cock is leaking, making Eddie’s hand slick, but Eddie still stops to spit again, landing the glob on the exposed head of Steve’s cock. It’s red already, and Eddie squeezes, forcing Steve’s foreskin up to roll back up and partially cover the swollen head.

Steve’s guts are tight already, the muscles in his ass and legs tensing, he can’t stop the shift of his own hips as he works his thumb in circles across the head of Eddie’s own cock. Eddie jacks him again, slow and so firm, forcing a massive dribble of pre come out of the head of Steve’s cock. Steve groans again, “baby, I’m gonna’-”

“Wait,” Eddie uses his free hand to push Steve’s hand off himself, letting his cock to wriggle free between them. It stands tall, searching, the black petals rippling.

Eddie angles Steve’s cock out, pulling the head down and towards himself, and Steve instantly knows what Eddies planning, “oh fuck baby, yes, yes please.” They’ve never done this before, but just the idea of it makes Steve hips shift, his balls going tight, the orgasm bubbling at the base of his cock, “please, now,” Steve vaguely aware that he’s whining, loud and desperate.

People can hear; he doesn’t give a fuck. He wants this.

Eddie’s cock latches to the head of Steve’s, the black petals stark against the dark pink spongy head. The fit is perfect, the slit of Steve’s cock, the head, being suckled and gently rubbed by all those little bumps, the sucking pulse feels like a mouth, the texture incredible. Eddie drags his hand upward, forcing Steve’s skin up again, his foreskin sliding over top of the petals. Eddie makes a choked noise, his free hand scrabbling again at the meat of Steve’s ass. Steve desperately locks his knees to stop himself from falling. The pulsing, sucking, pulling sensation is relentless.

Eddie moves his hand again, dragging Steve's foreskin back down, revealing the filthy sight of those jet black petals cupping the head of Steve's cock, the body of Eddie's cock writhing. Steve’s head thumps back against the door, his hips wriggling now, unable to stop himself moving in tiny little thrusts, “fuck, fuck, fuck,” Steve groans, “baby-”

Eddie leans up for a kiss. It’s messy, uncoordinated, both of them groaning and panting into each others mouths, and Steve cries out against Eddie’s lips as he comes. The pull is sharp, the stimulation on the head of his cock turning frantic as, just like with Steve’s spit on his cock, Steve’s come works to push Eddie into his own orgasm. Eddie accidentally catches Steve’s lip with his teeth, and the sting is delicious. His orgasm seems to go on forever, Eddie's cock suckling fiercely, and Eddie’s hand working him so perfectly.

Eventually, Eddie slumps forward onto Steve, Steve using his back to the door to keep them both up. “That was…” Steve starts, but doesn’t know where to go. He doesn’t know how to describe what just happened. It was maybe the best orgasm of Steve’s life.

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees, muffled where his face is smushed into Steve’s shoulder. The head of Steve’s dick is suddenly cold, and he figures Eddie’s dick has gone back in. They stand there for a few minutes, Steve rubbing Eddie’s back, gathering themselves. Eddie clears his throat, lifting his head so he can look Steve in the eye, “I’m sorry.”

Steve frowns, brain still a little flooded with happy chemicals, “what?”

“For before. I just...I found out about you and Nancy and I got...I got so angry. It,” Eddie makes a motion between them, a churning of his insides that he can’t express, “I’ve never felt like that before it was...like I hated her. And I needed you and I don’t understand-”

“You were jealous, baby?”

“I...yeah, it was horrible. And stupid- I didn’t – there’s no-” Eddie huffs, struggling for the words.

“How you feel doesn’t always make sense. There’s no...rules, you know.” Steve frowns, remembering, “should probably say sorry to Nancy though, you like, hissed at her which, kind of funny but still.”

Eddie looks a cross between horrified and mortified, “I don’t even remember.”

“Wow,” Steve can’t help being smug, “got it bad for me, huh?”

Eddie limply slaps at Steve’s chest, sighing through his nose, “shut up.”

Steve hums, “uh huh. We should get cleaned up.”

“Probably.”

They peel themselves apart, Steve leaning to grab for some tissue off the roll as Eddie starts to pull his pants down a little, but as Steve investigates, his finds his cock dry, “huh, where did it go?” He wipes up a little, the skin tacky with spit and precome, but otherwise everything is clean and dry, “uh...is my come on you? I can’t, uhm, find it?” He tucks himself away, pulling everything up so he can help Eddie.

“I don’ t think so?” Eddie replies, touching himself, his slit, the crease of his thighs, when Steve goes to wipe at him with the tissue, since Eddie usually makes a lot of come, there’s nothing, “I’m clean,” Eddie tells him.

Steve frowns, “did you come?”

“Yeah,” Eddie huffs, “I definitely, definitely did. That was…”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees, “but you’re dry?”

“Yeah,” Eddie scissors his thighs together, something he normally does when he’s spreading all the jelly like come about, “nothing there.”

“This is weird, where'd it all go? And why haven’t you, you know?” Steve feels for himself, running two fingers gently along Eddie’s slit, pushing in to part him the tiniest bit, Eddie makes a breathy little noise as Steve pulls away, “you sure you came?”

“Steve,” Eddie replies flatly, pulling his pants up and buttoning them.

“Right right it’s just...weird, right?”

Eddie shrugs, “makes it easy?”

“Yeah...don’t look a gift horse in the mouth I guess, considering we now have to go out there and face everyone.”

Eddie grins, “I like that they know.”

“Of course you do,” Steve sighs, fixes his hair in the mirror, and opens the door.

It’s after midnight; Eddie’s birthday is officially over. All the kids have gone home with Hopper and Joyce, and before everyone else heads home, since it’s Christmas, they’re going to exchange gifts now.

Steve had been, mildly mortified after they came out of the bathroom, not really wanting to face Joyce's raised eyebrows or the girls giggling...Eddie however, has been strutting around like a proud peacock, so Steve hasn't been feeling too ashamed about the whole thing. He is however, glad of the distraction of the gifts.

All the gifts are stacked under the tree, and Steve has been voted to distribute. A lot of the labels have been made from cut up magazine letters so that the hand writing won’t be recognized; to Steve they vaguely look like ransom threats.

They go around the room, opening their gifts one at a time, trying to guess who got them. They mostly work it out. Steve isn’t that interested in his own; he’s more interested in what Eddie got. The box is actually kind of heavy, and it’s pretty big.

Eddie opens it happily, pulling out a record that Steve knows he’s wanted for ages. And then...a denim jacket with no sleeves that Steve knows he was eyeing at the thrift store. Steve watches with mounting suspicion as Eddie pulls out a book he's talked about. The box, now Steve’s thinking about it, is wrapped with very familiar wrapping paper.

“Eddie, you got loads, they definitely didn’t stay on budget. Who got Eddie? Steve, was it you?”

“No, no it wasn’t me,” Steve quietly chuckles to himself. He half listens as Robin goes around the room, and every single person denies getting Eddie.

“Whoever pulled your name must know you pretty well, huh Baby? They got you exactly what you wanted.”

“Yup,” Eddie grins happily.

“Steve, come on, it must have been you, it wasn’t any of us.”

Steve just shakes his head in denial before turning back to Eddie, “baby...it’s kind of against the rules to pull your own name.”

Eddie frowns, “no it isn’t,” the whole room erupts into laughter around them.

Steve tries to clear up some of the aftermath, but it’s nearly two in the morning and he can’t be fucked really. He collapses on the couch, finishing his now warm flat soda. He can hear Eddie pottering, “we should go to bed!” Steve calls. He’s not loud, not much above speaking volume really, but he knows Eddie will hear him.

“Can we do our gifts now?” Eddie asks from the doorway.

“Sure Baby, if you want to. We’re going to be out most of the day tomorrow anyway,” they’re spending Christmas with the Hopper-Byers brigade, and Steve is kind of looking forward to it. Eddie’s second ever Christmas.

Steve heads off to his hiding place in one of the spare rooms to get Eddie’s gifts, Eddie does the same; Steve knows his are stashed out in the utility.

He’s been pretending not to know.

“Okay, me first,” Eddie says, sitting and pulling out what Steve knows is the record. Steve eyes the gift he has from Eddie; just the one, but it’s fairly big looking. Square. Steve has no idea what it could be.

Eddie likes the record; he absolutely loves the book of Metallica tabs and almost leaves to get his guitar right there and then, but Steve stops him, “tomorrow baby. We really need to sleep after this.”

Eddie laughs at himself and his own excitement, agreeing. When he opens his final gift, the guitar pick necklace, he puts it on immediately and swears he loves it so much he’s never going to take if off. Steve’s glad to hear it, even if it makes him feel, momentarily, a little weirdly possessive.

“Okay, this first,” Eddie pulls over the box, “Chrissy helped me,” he admits as Steve unwraps it, carefully pulling out the frame inside. It’s wrapped in soft packing paper, and Steve pulls that away to reveal his crown. It’s been artfully arranged behind the glass, all dried now, the tufts of grasses stand tall, still twined up with all the little flowers that Eddie had included. Clearly someone spent a very long time carefully setting it out, and it looks beautiful. Steve had carefully stored it away in a shoebox, so he hadn't even noticed it was gone. He’s...touched, by the memory of them in the woods around Hopper’s cabin. Eddie had told Steve he loved him for the first time not long after.

“Thank you...it’s so thoughtful. Thank you. I can hang this up and remember it forever, I love it.” Eddie smiles, slipping off the couch to kneel in front of Steve. Steve sets the frame down.

Eddie pulls a little velvet box out of his pocket, “I didn’t understand what it meant,” he starts slowly, “when you put this on me,” he lifts his left hand, rubbing at the ring with his thumb. “I didn’t know what being engaged was, or weddings or...any of it. I didn’t know, but you loved me anyway, and I’ve never taken it off,” Steve swallows thickly, he knows, he knows in his bones where this is going, but he lets Eddie speak. If Eddie’s saying so may words in one go, it means he’s really thought about, and Steve won’t interrupt him. “But I know now. I understand all of it, and I know I’m a guy, and...we can’t get married, but I...wanted to show you that I know. I know now, and I love you too.”

Eddie opens the box, it’s a simple silver band, thicker than Eddie’s but still, it matches. Steve isn’t sure he’d be able to speak, his eyes already feel wet, so he silently holds his hand out for Eddie to slide the ring on; it fits perfectly.

Steve feels like he’ll crack open if he tries to talk about what he feels right now, it’s too big, too much, “you measured my finger didn’t you. Before the mall? So sneaky.”

Eddie nods, his own eyes looking suspiciously misty, smiling and biting at his lip, clearly nervous, “do you like it?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I love it, thank you. I love you.”

Eddie smiles, sitting up for a kiss, “love you, too.”

[championofthefade]

Warning!! This post may contain spoilers for those who haven't played Veilguard yet! This turned out a lot longer than I thought, but I'm discussing the theory that Rook is a spirit.

I know that there are issues with the writing and any theory is not created to make those issues get swept under the rug. This theory is meant to be fun, and I would like to talk about it.

I'm thinking about the "Rook is a spirit" theory I saw on twitter/x. This theory often rotates in my head often, and I think that it's so interesting.

Like, listen. I understand that narratively it would be complicated to insert into what we know is Dragon Age Veilguard. Someone brought up the fact that it would be a strange thing because wouldn't Emmrich know that Rook is a spirit the way that he knows Lucanis has Spite?

But the theory that cadhalash paints for us is the fact that Varric was for Rook what the Rook is for the companions.

"Help them with their personal problems and talk to them about their feelings, but never ask Rook how they're doing. Or if they need anything. In codex memos we learn the companions have potlucks and book clubs but Rook is not invited. We learn at the end that Varric wasn't really there... What if Rook wasn't either? There's tons of chat about this idea now with other examples of Rook being compared to a spirit in the game. Very interesting and fun!" -cadhalash

There could be the very huge chance that Emmrich would recognize Rook as a spirit, but what about a spirit made flesh?

Think about Cole's banter with Blackwall, for example:

Blackwall: How does a spirit become flesh anyway?

Cole: I don't know. How does a Warden become Grey?

It may seem like a reach, but to me, it makes sense. Cole chose to become human because that was the shape that would help, which he says in a banter with Varric.

Varric: So, Kid, why human?

Cole: It was the shape that would help.

Varric: Huh. Most people don't pick a shape. I guess I was hoping for something deeper with that question.

Cole: It had to be him. But harmless. The him he wanted that wouldn't hurt.

Varric: Well that's... deeper. I think.

You may be thinking, "Hey, Atlas. That might be a little reaching, don't you think?"

Well, yes. Applauding the people that caught onto Solas in the Dragon Age Fandom years and years ago now because you all were on the nose about him being a worm (spirit). But considering what we know from Dragon Age as a whole, it could be possible that Rook is too a spirit of a different kind.

We know that Emmrich can sense Spite. We know that Emmrich can talk directly to Spite. But what if Rook was more like Cole? Would Emmrich's ability to speak to spirits or sense them so close apply?

I would say, that depends on the type of Spirit that Rook would be, right? This has a lot of wiggle room for what you think your Rook would be as a spirit?

From the Wiki:

Spirits lack imagination and creativity; everything they make is based off something made by mortals. Whether benevolent or malevolent, most spirits cannot help but mine a Fade visitor's mind for their thoughts and memories. They then mimic the pieces of life they see by shaping the Fade into various realms that cater to the unconscious desires of the living, providing experiences to the sleeping that become their "dreams."

And the Spirits listed:

Command, Compassion (Cole), Courage, Curiosity (Manfred), Duty, Faith (Wynne), Honor, Hope, Justice(Anders), Learning, Love, Perseverance, Purpose, Valor, Wisdom (Solas).

(We know from Veilguard that Spite is referred to as a spirit of Determination/ mentioned in a data mine, Passion.)

For the sake of the theory, let's say that Emmrich would get an inkling. A prickling feeling even that he knows that there's a spirit near by and would chalk it up to being Manfred because he would know that, right? But then there's Spite. How big of an energy read does Emmrich get from Lucanis to immediately go, 'Yeah, you've got a tag along and I'm sorry it wasn't a willing possession'.

So, how would it get unnoticed by Emmrich, the resident Fade Expert?

Well... Reading further down said wiki page, we find this:

As Rhys puts it in a dialogue with Cole, "being important makes you real". (Asundered reference, I believe?)

Being important makes you real. Rook becomes the 'leader' when Varric gets hurt at the beginning of the game. For the entirety of the game, as Rook, you have to build a team to fight ancient elvhen gods. Rook has to be what Varric was, pulling people that Solas didn't know into trying to save the world from going to shit.

Rook was given a purpose. To save the world.

Regardless of how Rook is perceived, they are in charge. They are in a position that they didn't want, probably was expecting to go home after dealing with this Dread Wolf that they were recruited to stop, and now... They're given a role that would make them important. And as before being important makes you real.

Could Rook be something akin to Cole rather something like Spite or other spirits that we know in Veilguard?

Here's another thing: Solas.

Yes, we are talking about the egg. I'll try to keep this as coherent as possible. We know that Solas didn't want to come from the Fade to be a human (another discussion for another time). We learn that Solas was a spirit of Wisdom, whose Wisdom was twisted into a weapon and forced to do things that stripped Solas of what he wanted to keep for himself. To remain as Wisdom.

This makes it interesting if we add to the fact that Rook could choose to outsmart Solas. Because at that pivotal moment, Solas was Pride. On his pride, it was always the sword he would fall on.

Say what you will about the trick ending, but this is something that shouldn't be glossed over. Being outsmarted by Rook, Solas says, "I am a fool... Who has met his match."

Met his match. This also might be another case of reaching, but it's interesting phrasing from someone who tells clever half-truths and never quite lies. Being tricked by Rook out of pure wits alone. Something that he thought he succeeded in.

What does this have to do with spirits?

Solas, who was brought out of the Fade to take a body to join the elves in a fight against the Titans. Solas, who crafted the lyrium dagger to sunder the Titans from their dreams in hopes of stopping the war. Solas, who created the blight from the Titans' severed dreams. Solas, who started a rebellion against the ancient elvhen gods who abused their power.

Rook, who was brought onto a job to stop the Dread Wolf. Rook, who disrupted the ritual in hopes of stopping Solas. Rook, who started a double blight from freeing these ancient elvhen gods. Rook, who has to build a team to stop these ancient elven gods.

I would say, in spirit, Rook is a mirror of Solas. I'm not saying Rook is wise like Solas or anything like that. But there is something about Rook being Solas' mirror that could fold into Rook being a Spirit of Reflection.

This is just something that comes to mind. Rooks helps Taash discover their identity, helps Emmrich deal with his fear of mortality, helps Neve protect Dock Town, helps Bellara with Cyrian, helps Harding with the Titans, helps Davrin with the griffons, and helps Lucanis with Spite. (Generalized, all choice dependent.) These are reflections of the companions. These are reflections of the people that Rook had brought together to save the world.

It could easily be written off because we're not entirely sure how many spirits there are, but I digress.

Of course, that too would beg the question of how it would apply to all Rooks from all backgrounds?

Let's take a look at the ones that make me think.

Shadow Dragon Rook

The foundling Rook was adopted into a military family and joined the Shadow Dragons to fight from the shadows for change in Minrathous.

We learn in a dialogue with Tarquin that a Shadow Dragon Rook was found on a battlefield by the Mercar family.

Now with this little bit of dialogue, it makes me (personally) think back to what Solas says about him walking the Fade and seeing ancient battlefields where spirits reenact wars from the other side of the Veil. There could have been spirits that were there during this battle where SD Rook was found. (It also kinda reminds me of Loki being found by Odin and raised in Asgard. Don't come for me, I've only watched the movies.)

For the sake of theory, say that a spirit that would have looked over a SD Rook before they were found by the Mercars. Thinking about it, it reminds me of how Cole (the mage) was watched over by Compassion and then Compassion took a shape that would help.

A spirit (in Spite's case) can be drawn to a person, yes? As Determination, we know that Spite was drawn to Lucanis' determination to live or something of the like. (I will live to spite you, essentially.)

Mourn Watch Rook

Discovered by undead inside a Grand Necropolis tomb as an infant, Rook was raised by Mourn Watch necromancers, eventually joining the order.

Relating back to the Muttering Undead that is in a coffin on the path from Emmrich's recruitment:

Stumbling… The steps. Skeletons saw… Oh no choice. Had to be brave… Had to be brave… Too late to cry… Save the (girl, boy, baby) with the grave.

This is a little more open ended. We know nothing about Ingellvar beyond that. We don't know where they came from, only that they were found inside a tomb. It makes me scratch my head.

We know that it's a custom in Nevarra that a spirit could reanimate a skeleton, essentially, and bring some part of their consciousness from back across the Veil. We see that Manfred, when you choose to bring him back, is brought back from across the Veil and returns with magic.

Sure, it's not the same thing as building a body out of Titan's blood, but the idea that the spirits that became the Evanuris are the best of the physical and the Fade offers up to the idea that they were going to have magic anyway when they crossed the Veil. Only lyrium gave them more power than I think that they knew what to do with.

I make this point from the perspective that Mourn Watchers are typically necromancers. They are almost always close to places where the Veil is thin enough for a spirit to come across and possessing a body in a sense.

When it comes to the Muttering Undead, I don't know who that could have been or what they were doing in the Necropolis. But it's clear that they were determined to save Mourn Watch Rook, and they were the one that put Rook in the tomb.

This one makes me scratch my head because it's so broad and vague. For the theory that Rook is a spirit, this is the origin/background/faction that lends itself to the idea because in Nevarra they revere and respect their dead with the ability to raise the corpses to continue contributing to the Grand Necropolis. But we're talking about a wee baby Rook growing up in the Necropolis. Could it be possible that the saving of Rook is more spirit in a tomb?

The last things I would like to touch on.

Dialogue with Harding (her romance I believe?) :

Harding: I've seen spirits leave the Fade and become real people. (COLE!!!)

Rook: You think I could be a spirit in disguise?

Harding: It isn't malicous. They're just drawn to strong emotion. And then...one day, real people.

Rook: I think I'm really me, and I'm really here.

This is why I mentioned Cole earlier.

And the absence of Rook in the Veilguard mural is brought up in the theory as well. Rook's absence on the mural strikes me as odd. Because yes, the companions would be a main focus in the stories that would follow them. But what about Rook, the person who brought these vastly different people together and saved the world? Not there. Were they ever there?

Much to think about.

[cyberhughes]

— 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ jack hughes

chapter 6: jealousy, jealousy.

last chapter | next chapter

*:･✧* 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: jack hughes x fem!oc

*:･✧* 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: ANGST, swearing, jealousy jack raising his voice at naomi (FUCK YOU JACK!!), drinking to number the pain, jack just being the worlds biggest asshole tbh

𝓐𝓾𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓻𝓼 𝓝𝓸𝓽𝓮: i’m so sorry for whats about to happen in this chapter lmfao😞 but thank you all sm for the likes and reblogs and overall support!! i love you all sm and it makes me happy to see that you guys are enjoying the series so far🫶🫶

series masterlist + character intros

anxiety bubbled up in naomi’s chest as she stared at herself in the mirror, applying her blush as she got ready for trevor’s party. thoughts of the other night with jack overwhelmed her mind, and while yasmin had told her it seemed fine, that she didn’t wreck anything, naomi had a strong feeling that she had affected hers and jack’s friendship.

she replayed his laughter and shock as she asked him if they could truly be a couple. hell, it wasn’t like the constant flirting was one sided, so why did he react as if it was completely out of the question?

after that night she immediately started to overthink everything, thinking that maybe her and jack’s friendship was too much, and that she was preventing him from finding someone he could really love, without feeling ashamed.

“babe, you okay?” yasmin had already finished getting ready and was sitting on naomi’s bed scrolling through tiktok when she noticed the girl being more silent than usual. naomi looked up at yasmin through her mirror, nodding and immediately smiling, not wanting her friend to be concerned. “yeah, i’m just locking in, my makeup needs to look really good.” yasmin knew better than that though.

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“WHATS UP FUCKERS!” naomi and yasmin and barely stepped through the door before being greeted by an already drunk trevor. “dude, what the fuck are you wearing?” naomi snickered as she eyes trevors choice of clothing, or lack thereof. he was sporting a pair of blue shorts with a rubber duck pattern all over, a cowboy hat, and an upside down pair of sunglasses, no shirt of course.

“my party fit, duh.” he ruffled both of the girls hair and they swatted him away. before they could continue a conversation, he was being called by a group of guys further into the house. “duty calls, drinks are in the kitchen i’ll see you hoes later!” and without any further delay he ran off hollering. “my god he is so cooked.” the two girls giggled before making their way to the kitchen to get a drink.

“hey so did you end up inviting james?” yasmin cocked a brow as she poured a mystery drink from the punch bowl into red solo cups for the two of them. “uh yeah, i told him and he said he might swing by for a bit.” yasmin nodded at naomi’s words before finishing off the drinks and handing one to her. taking a sip, naomi scanned the house, looking for one person in particular. before she could finish looking around her phone dinged from inside her pocket. yasmin peered over her shoulder, letting out a small chuckle as she read the name on naomi’s screen. “speak of the devil.” james had arrived to the house and was waiting outside, nervous about going in by himself. “you go get him, i’ll go find luke or something.” naomi nodded as they split up.

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“looking good james.” naomi approached him on the front yard and he smiled. “hey, sorry i was nervous about going in, i don’t really know anyone.” he blushed and rubbed the back of his neck. “you’re good. cole is actually really excited to see you again.” she laughed and led him inside the house.

“oh wow, it’s packed in here.” he stood in shock as he observed the amount of people that filled the house, similar to those parties that would only happen in movies. they weaved their way through the groups of people, trying to find the rest of naomi’s friends. “oh i see them, come on let me reintroduce you to them.” she grabbed his hand and walked towards them.

“JAMES MY GUY!” cole had the widest smile as he stepped towards the boy, going to dap him him. “what’s up cole?” he laughed. “guys this is james, he was at my birthday.” she gestured towards the boy as they all gave their greetings. “this is yasmin, quinn, luke, i think trevor is playing beerpong, and uh…” she trailed off when she noticed that jack wasn’t there. “oh. where’s jack?” she looked towards his brothers. “i think bathroom.” quinn shrugged and luke nodded in agreement. yasmin looked over at the unease on her best friends face and opted to switch the topic. “so! who wants to go watch trevor lose at beer pong?”

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jack was making his way to the backyard after going to the bathroom, some random blonde following right beside him and yapping his ear off. he originally had left to clear his head because his brother’s and trevor had been bugging him about naomi. the conversation mostly consisting of the other guys calling him an idiot while he sulked in embarrassment. he felt really bad about the other night, he hadn’t even reached out to naomi because he was scared he could make things weird.

he had bumped into this girl on the way out of the washroom, muttering a quick apology but she stopped him from walking away, “hey, you’re jack right? I’ve seen you around.” and she’s been following him around since.

he thought his head might explode if he listened to her talk about how she was super into guys that played hockey. he felt relief as he spotted trevor and cole playing beer pong, aching to get away from this girl. “hey listen uh…” he racked his brain trying to remember her name. madison? malorie? fuck if he knew, he just wanted to make an excuse and get out of there.

as he stalled trying to remember her name, his gaze shifted onto naomi who stood beside quinn and…james? she actually invited him? he felt a slight twinge of jealousy as she watched naomi hold onto his bicep to stable herself as she laughed at the game that was going on in front of them.

“uhm, jack what were you saying?” his attention turned back to the blonde beside him. he looked back at naomi and saw that she seemed to be having so much fun with james and so he sighed, facing the blonde again. “do you want to get a drink?” he offered, not sounding very enthusiastic but the blonde ignored his tone, nodding her head. clearly she only wanted one thing from him.

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an hour or two had passed by, and naomi had yet to see jack. she was currently standing in the backyard with james, catching up on a few things and talking about their interests. naomi had learned that her and james actually had quite a lot in common, from the foods they enjoyed to their favourite movies. the conversation had taken a comfortable pause, the two simply just people watching, a habit they also shared. as she analyzed the different groups of people, imagining what their conversations could be about, her eyes fell through the kitchen window and spotted jack…talking to some girl she had never seen before.

her stomach churned, the girl was beautiful. she had her platinum blonde hair curled—not too perfectly, just messy enough. she had the perfect tanned skin and cutest outfit and naomi could feel herself frowning. she watched as jack let the girl caress his arm and whisper something in his ear. a small smirk on his face as he sipped his drink.

she turned her attention back to james, and he was already staring at her. “sorry,” he grinned at being caught admiring her. “you’re just pretty.” she smiled at his compliment, saying a small thank you. “you know, as much as my aunt is a pain, i’m glad she introduced us.” he admitted and naomi nodded in agreement. “yeah, i’m glad too.” was all she said as she noticed how his eye’s flickered to her lips. maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the fact that jack was currently in the kitchen being felt up by a random girl, but she found herself leaning in, mirroring james. her eyes fluttered closed as they made contact, his hand reaching up to hold her face. her heart banged in her chest, but it wasn’t beating with any passion. the only thing that crossed her mind as she kissed james was, jack.

she didn’t know when she had fully come to the realization that her feelings for jack had extended deeper than a friendship. sure she’s said some suggestive things but he reciprocated them, always in a joking manner. she didn’t want it to be a joke anymore, she wanted him.

“i’m sorry…” she pulled away and tears welled in her eyes. james eyes widened as he watched her expression turn into one of sadness. “i can’t, i’m sorry.” she took a breath, trying to figure out what to say next, not wanting to hurt james. “jack.” he spoke for her and she bit her lip, nodding. “that’s okay, i kinda had a feeling there was something deeper there.” he watched the tears reach the surface and fall onto her cheeks. “hey, you’re okay come here.” he pulled her in for a hug, smoothing her hair with his hands. her breathing was jagged as she spoke, “i’m sorry, i don’t know why i’m crying. i think i’m just scared.” scared of what exactly? that her feelings were real, meaning she could get her heartbroken? james hushed her, telling her she didn’t need to explain. “it’s okay, don’t cry. you just gotta tell him, i don’t know how he could ever turn you down.” he pulled away, hands on her shoulders as she nodded, gaining her composure. she’d go and tell him, for real this time.

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jack had been entertaining this blonde for the past thirty minutes, surprisingly finding a few of her jokes to be a little funny, but was now starting to get fed up when she got too touchy. he didn’t want her hands on him, he wanted naomi’s.

“okay, fuck sorry but i gotta go.” he didn’t wait for a response before ditching her to go find naomi. he weaved through the groups of people, asking if any of them had seen her. after getting very useless responses, he found cole and trevor and they had told him they saw her in the backyard with james. his stomach churned at the thought of her being with james, and he pushed his way to the backyard.

he scanned the yard, seeing yasmin and his brothers chatting with some people. the backyard was a mess. red solo cups everywhere, chips scattered and people running around like headless chickens laughing at god knows what. his gaze finally fell onto naomi and he felt his breathing stop.

was that really her? he took a small step closer, feeling his heart shatter as her features became clearer. there she was, being kissed by someone that wasn’t him. his friends had been wrong, she really was joking this whole time. she didn’t want him, if she did she wouldn’t have her lips locked on someone else. as his mind raced with thoughts, his sadness turned into anger. he ran his hands through his hair before walking back into the house, shaking his head. how could he be so fucking stupid?

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after her conversation with james, naomi had ran into the house looking for jack. she was going to tell him she was tired of pretending, tired of the jokes, and that she wanted to be with him. she spotted him in the kitchen pouring himself a drink and she sighed with relief, approaching him.

“hey jack!” she jogged up to him and he looked up at her. she flinched when he locked eyes with her, a look in his eyes she had never seen before. cheeks flushed from the alcohol with a look in his eyes that could have been mistaken for hatred. “are you okay?” she paused her initial thought to confess, to question why he had looked like that. “just peachy.” he gave a fake smile and her stomach dropped. “what’s wrong with you?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper. “whats wrong with me? what’s wrong with you?” he let out a dry chuckle and her eyes widened with shock.

quinn, luke and the rest of their friends had been standing not too far away, their attention turning to the kitchen as they heard jack’s question laced with venom.

“don’t look confused naomi. i saw you.” he rolled his eyes and took a sip of his drink. she furrowed her brows, racking her brain for what he could have seen her do. then it clicked. he had saw the kiss. panick set in as she stammered trying to explain the situation. “no, it wasn’t-“ before she could even start explaining her cut her off. “wasn’t what? tell me. did you kiss him and then tell him you were joking? did you lie to him? cause you’re pretty fucking good at that, naomi.” tears fell from her eyes, she felt sick. why wouldn’t he let her explain? “why are you being mean?” her lips quivered and he ran a hand through his hair, letting out a laugh. “and i thought you wanted me. that whole thing in the car? i thought you were hinting at something. i guess one guy isn’t enough for you huh?”

“hey what the fuck is your problem?” quinn didn’t let him continue, marching towards his younger brother. luke, trevor, cole and yasmin following right behind

jack didn’t pay any mind, and continued spewing venomous words out of his mouth. “i thought you wanted me but i was wrong, because now that he’s here, you didn’t waste a second before you tried to fuck him—“ he was stopped by quinn grabbing him by the collar of shirt and pushing him against the wall. “don’t.” was all quinn said, the glare in his eyes saying far more than words ever could. jack’s eyes fell back onto naomi. eyes red and a river of tears flowing down her cheeks. then it sank in, what the fuck was he even saying? it felt as if all the poison that made him act the way he did had been drained away from his body after seeing the pain in her eyes. “fuck you, jack.” she spat before running out of the house. oh god, what did he just do?

do you guys hate me or what LMFAOOO

[aggieharkness]

Have i earned it, mother? Chp. 3

Pairing: Avis Amberg x reader

Summary: You had never thought you would get to have a date with Avis, much less that it would be on New Year's Eve. No matter if it wasn't entirely perfect it would still be wonderful because she was with you and you were with her.

Warnings: smut (+18), affair, swearing, oral (Avis receiving), fingering (Avis receiving), oral (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), tit play. Romance, fluff, confessions, lingerie... I don't know what else needs to be added.

Authors note: Merry Christmas!!! It has taken me a bit longer than anticipated to finish this, but it's fucking long and my poor little neuron has been working overtime, still I hope you like this new chapter. The song that plays in the car is "Time after time" by Frank Sinatra and the ones from the restaurant are from the album "Love me the way I love you" by Jerry Vale. Please, do tell me if I need to be more graphic, if I'm lacking on something... you know I accept constructive criticism. If you want more, tell me. I am here for you, my dear people, I listen. Also available on Ao3. Finally, let's thank Patti Lupone for giving us Avis Amberg.

This is my Christmas gift to you all, so I hope you like it!! 😊🎄 Thanks to @bravewithacapitalb for being my beta reader, you are a God send. Also shoutout to those who didn't make it, I still appreciate you @dont-blame-me-she-made-me-crazy @4theluvofsapphos @celestemoon-9 @renafisher27

Chp. 1 Chp. 2

Word count: 26K (I'm very sorry but also not that sorry. I am aware that it's long as fuck.)

You made me love you

The music from your old record player echoed throughout the house, bouncing off the walls and into every room of your tiny apartment. With no neighbours around you, there was no issue with the volume, or with the way you banged the doors of your wardrobe as you fretted around your bedroom. Swaying to the beat of the trumpet, your body glided barefoot from the bathroom over to the bed, your sweet voice harmonizing with Fats Waller’s vocals as he sang “Ain’t Misbehavin’”, your hair curled, brushed, and pinned on the back of your head. Tonight was special and you wanted to look and feel as glamorous as all those girls at the studio that would be going to private or big parties, even if your plans were much simpler. With a beautiful deep black lace strapless corselette hooked around your figure and a pair of nude stockings secured by the clips that hung from the garment hugging your frame you stood observing two dresses. They had both cost you a fortune but thanks to Avis’s raise in your salary you had not had to ask the cashier if you could pay for them in three different transactions, you had just wiped out the cash and paid them in full. You had felt so rich, even if it had been just for a moment. Observing the gown on the left you took in the off-shoulder shape of the top, the tight draped bodice and the lightly ruffled and puffed skirt, a beautiful translucent lilac tulle around it complimenting the darker purple shade of the dress itself.

 It was more of a ballgown than anything else and you had nowhere to wear it, but it had been too beautiful, and back at the store you had thought that one Christmas gift to yourself wasn’t so bad, not when you hadn’t bought yourself something just for the fun of it in years. Moving onto the gown on the right you felt a smile creep up on your lips. It really was smashing, strapless, with a tight bodice and skirt that would certainly hug every single curve in your body, a slit on the right side that reached about mid-thigh. Touching the fabric with your fingertips you could not help the shiver of happiness you felt at the feeling of the midnight blue velvet. It had to be this one, since the first instants you had laid eyes on it, on that faceless mannequin back at the boutique, you had known it would be the dress you would wear to take Avis out on New Years Eve. Without giving it another thought you opened the back zipper and pulled it over your legs, around your hips until it finally covered your body, your arms and hands battling to get hold of the zipper to close it up. After a two-minute struggle that included jumping senselessly around your bedroom, you finally managed to zip it, smoothing the fabric and rushing to look at your reflection in the mirror. You could knock anyone’s socks off with the way your breasts practically spilled out and your leg peeked out from under the sea of velvet.

Giving your back to the mirror, in your tiny room where there wasn’t a place for a vanity, makeup pilled on your nightstand and over the bathroom sink, you made your way to the jewellery box that laid open over the covers of your bed, hands rummaging among the few pieces you owned. There was a pair of pearl earrings that you were not going to wear, Avis was a pearl sort of gal and you didn’t want to clash with her, two pairs of golden rings, a matching necklace, and a lovely sapphire set that you had been given years ago by a an aunt that you could not remember anymore but that your parents had said did questionable things for a living. Who didn’t at the end of the day? That set matched your outfit perfectly, the golden chain that wrapped along a string of rounded sapphires and crystals feeling terribly cold as you placed it over your collarbone, clasping it in the back. The earrings were small and didn’t seem to be heavy as you put them on, the final piece left being a simple ring that you slid on the middle finger of your right hand; somehow it didn’t feel right to place it on either of your ring fingers. The last touch that you needed to complete it all was your shoes, that you searched for all over the room, panicking for a second when you couldn’t find the box before taking a relieved breath, hand on your chest, as they had been under the bed. You must have accidentally kicked them while jumping to get the dress on. In that box, wrapped in a beautiful silk tissue, in all their glory, were a pair of black Balenciaga stilettos that had swallowed the last bits of your salary once all bills and amenities had been paid, of course. They were gorgeous, you were in love with them and once you put them on, fitting your feet like gloves, you took one last look in the mirror, the dark cherry red lipstick shade you wore complimenting the palette beautifully.

Checking the clock that rested on your nightstand, between the bottle of lotion and translucent powder, it read a quarter past ten. To you, it wasn’t that late, but Avis was probably absolutely famished by now, and you still needed to drive for over ten minutes to get to her place. You practically skated from one side of the bedroom to the other, spraying some perfume and grabbing the lipstick from the bathroom before rushing into the hallway, putting keys and other essentials in your purse, and yanking your old coat off the rack. Getting yourself a fancy one would have been pushing it a bit too much. Out of the apartment you stopped midway to the stairs when you realised you had not turned the music off, huffing in frustration and running back to your door, unlocking it and unplugging the record player. Rushing wasn’t going to get you anywhere if you had to come back every five seconds to turn shit off, so you made a leap through your apartment turning off lights and other appliances before locking the front door and heading down into the street. The sky was clear, full of stars that the streetlights would cover up as soon as you began to drive through the main avenues, the temperature cold but thankfully not as freezing as it had been that night, still you took a moment to breath in the crispy air and gaze at the universe above your head. Nature was beautiful every day of the year.

Returning your gaze to the street, right in front of your building was your beautiful burgundy car, waiting, a smile painting your lips. You could still hardly believe Avis had got it for you, sure after three hours of fucking each other at her place and after she had assured you she would, her frame relaxed and utterly satisfied as she signed the check without thinking about it twice and handing it to Mr. Russell, but it still thrilled you to no end. The memory of the both of you walking into the dealership with two completely different outfits, the men glaring and Mr. Russell rushing to greet you both made your smile even bigger, wondering if he had noticed the change of clothes and had simply decided not to mention it.

Unlocking the vehicle, it still thrilled you whenever your fingers touched the leather, that smell of new car lingering alongside Avis’s perfume in every crevice and stitch. It was the perfect combination. With your old one it would have taken you about three tries to get the engine up and running, this one was ready to go on the first try, moving smoothly onto the road and down towards the Amberg residence. When you had suggested to Miss Kincaid during a coffee break the possibility of going to the studio’s New Year’s Eve party, you had been excited, after all, it had taken you a whole morning to finally bring yourself to make the decision. But that little bubble of happiness had been burst upon hearing her say that it would not happen this year, at least not the way it always had been, at Mr. Amberg’s residence with every actor and actress in existence, but mainly with a very drunk Avis trying to be pleasant to all those idiots she had told you a thousand times she didn’t give a shit about. Mr. Samuels was hosting it instead because Mr. Amberg was going to some party at his Gentleman’s Club or something. You hadn’t wanted to press the matter too much as not to draw much attention to yourself and have Miss Kincaid asking questions. The initial disappointment had melted into nothing when you had come across Avis at the studio barely fifteen minutes after your conversation with Miss Kincaid and had blurted out if she wanted to spend New Year’s Eve with you, expecting her to smile politely and decline the offer by saying that she had to attend the party with her husband. Your knickers dropped though, metaphorically that time, when she agreed, sounding almost excited at the prospect of spending time with you and only you. That same evening you had found yourself looking for the perfect outfit in every store you could find, except the really expensive ones, you didn’t fancy the idea of selling a kidney for a dress if you could find a stunning one somewhere cheaper.

Dinners all over Hollywood had ended hours ago, people singing and dancing out in the streets as they headed to bars or private celebrations, drinks in their hands or in flasks deep within their purses and pockets. Your eyes observed it all, the bright lights, the sounds that the New Year was bringing as they mixed with the song playing on the radio. It sounded like Frank Sinatra, perhaps it was a new release or something, either way, it blended quite nicely with the world around you as Sunset Boulevard wrapped its atmosphere around your car. Taking a side street, you drove up a road filled with palm trees on either side before coming to a stop in front of the Ambergs’ gates. You didn’t have to wait this time, the old gentleman had seen you arrive and was already unlocking them, waiving to you excitedly as you drove the vehicle in and parked it on the side. He was wearing a bright red bowtie you noticed as you stepped out of the car, pulling your coat tighter around you, and had tinsel on his uniform hat. You made a mental note to ask him his name the next time you came over, he was far too kind not to engage him in conversation at some point. Locking your car, you flashed him with a genuine smile and an energetic wave before making your way to the front doors and ringing the bell. There was a wave of sounds on the other side, Gertie’s muffled voice saying that there was someone at the door, almost as if it was a code, and Avis’s panicked voice answering with something you did not quite catch. A few moments later the doors creaked open, the maid showing you into the entrance hallway, your eyes noticing that she was wearing a pretty dress instead of her usual uniform, a touch of rouge and lipstick on her face that suited her quite well.

-She will be right down miss. Would you like a drink while you wait?

-Oh, I’m fine, no need to go to all that trouble Gertie. You look very fancy, going somewhere?

-Welcoming the year with some of the ladies of my Bridge Club, miss.

-Well, I hope you have fun. I know I will.

She chuckled at the comment but didn’t say anything else, simply smiled knowingly before heading for the kitchen. Before you could begin to observe the room around you the sound of someone clearing their throat made you whip your head towards the stairs. You choked on the air you were breathing, sputtering quietly for a second. Holy shit. Angels could not shine brighter nor be more beautiful than the image your eyes were taking in.

The sight at the top of the stairs was right out of a fantasy novel where ethereal beings walked among simple mortals, mixed with those movies that captivated your heart with all the romance and glamour. Waves of red cascaded over her shoulders and framed her perfect face with such volume and shine that not even Rita Hayworth would be able to make your eyes stray. Those gorgeous deep brown eyes staring back at you through thick black eyelashes that seemed to be longer and more sensual tonight, her magnificent cheekbones adorned in gentle hues of pink and peach rouge. You could not help it, your eyes travelled down to her mouth, her usual shade of Victory Red perfectly applied. They seemed fuller and plumper tonight, sending a shiver of desire down your spine. Her long neck and enticing collarbones were exposed by a plunging square neckline that defined the top of her breasts exquisitely, her arms wrapped in translucent satin the same shade as her dress, an absolutely pristine white. Her curves, as hypnotising as river bends, were hidden under gentle drapes of silk that met at her waist, her legs peeking through the skirt as if folded on the side of her body, her hand holding the fabric to make sure you would be able to see the nude stockings that she was wearing underneath, her right foot resting on the edge of the first stair. Your eyes racked and ate at her long shapely leg, tongue running over your lips, her dainty feet dressed in matching pristine white heels that peeked from under the hem of her gown.

Avis was beautiful every day of the week, every second of every minute all year long, but the Avis that stood at the top of the stairs was a vision so divine, so sublime in every single aspect that you had to put your hand on the doorframe, your knees having grown weak. Licking her neck with your eyes you were glad you had forgone the pearl earrings, as she was wearing her own pair, much more expensive and beautiful than yours, and a matching necklace that rested gently over her collarbone, right under the hollow of her neck. With each breath she took her breasts rose and fell, drawing your body towards her as your eyes went back up to her face, locking with hers. For a moment you tasted chocolate on your palate. She took one step forward letting the skirt fall back into place, walking down the staircase slowly, absolutely delighted in the way your pupils had dilated and practically undressed her while also simply adoring her. Her hips swayed from right to left with each step, her right hand on the railing, tracing the banister with her fingertips. Even in the few feet that still separated you, you could already smell her positively elegant and rich perfume, dizzying your mind as you stood at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for the moment when she would reach your arms, allowing you to sweep her off her feet. One more step and she stood half a foot above you, your head lulled back slightly to keep on staring. Had you blinked since hearing her? Her index finger traced your jawline until it rested under your chin.

-Hello, dear.

-Hi… Hello.

-You seem a bit flustered. Do you need a glass of water? – she was teasing, of course, her voice low and sultry but sounding delighted to see you, and well, she was not entirely wrong; you were cursing yourself and wished you had asked Gertie for a drink after all, your throat suddenly dry.

-No, no. Just… Wow.

-I take you like it then. I got it tailored and ready for the festivities yesterday.

-It’s beautiful, but it’s you, as a whole, that makes it absolutely extraordinary. – she blushed a deep red at your compliment, her finger moving to toy with your necklace as she dropped her gaze, an embarrassed smile on her red lips. – You’ve even let your hair down.

-That was Gertie’s suggestion. Said that you would appreciate it. – she pushed the perfect waves over her shoulder. The initial idea had been to wear a different updo to her usual ones and call it a day, but that blessed maid of hers had mentioned how the style nowadays was more along the lines of letting the hair free. Avis had thought about it for a moment, wondering if you would actually like it or not. By the way you were practically eating her with your eyes she was glad she had followed Gertie’s suggestion.

-So she knows?

-We fucked for three hours the other day, honey. There was no way in hell I was going to come up with something to cover that up.  Don’t worry, she’s alright with this, us.

-I hope it’s due to the fact that I make you happy and not because you could fire her.

-Fire Gertie? Never, the house would fall apart. She’s simply happy that I’m happy because you make me happy.

-The word happy just lost its entire meaning after repeating it so much. – it took you a moment to build up the courage to touch her as you didn’t want to stain the gorgeous gown; she was a vision in white that you wanted to keep in your mind forever. Your hand went straight to her shoulder, caressing the side of her neck while twirling a lock of her hair. It was so soft, and it smelled like orange blossoms, an aroma you had mentioned you adored as it reminded you of home. She had taken notes. - But it’s okay, I think I can come up with a whole new meaning for it.

-What would it be?

-What I feel when I see you, when I’m with you. – you were enthralled by the way the lock of hair in between your fingers glided effortlessly, speaking in hushed tones while breathing her essence into your lungs, never wanting to stop. - One can be happy about a book or a dish, but what goes through my mind and heart when I lay my eyes on you cannot be simply referred to as happy, one must give the word a brand-new meaning to understand, to express.

-Could you… - her lips were hovering over yours, her right hand resting on the banister while her left one travelled to the back of your neck, but she didn’t take the next step to close the gap between you, she wanted to hear you. -Could you tell me? Make me see what you see?

-The night is young Avis, and I don’t want to spill all my secrets so soon. I promise that I’ll tell you, tonight, but if you need a little bit of help figuring it out on your own, just think about how your heart races when I’m with you, of all the little details you’ve left for me around my office, like little breadcrumbs that take me directly to you. No one has ever left me flowers or a sandwich with a note simply saying “Eat”. You take care of me even when you are not there, so I know you know the true meaning of the word, even if I never told you, even if I carried that secret to my grave. – your voice dropped into a whisper, eyes locked with hers now, your lips nearly touching. - You’ve even made yourself smell like home for me.

Is this how she had felt when she had married Ace? She could not remember her heart ever leaping in her chest at the sight of him, nor her breath hitching in her lungs when he smiled. She might be married to that man, but he made her feel like she was nothing, fuelling only hate and hurt in her heart. Your breath tickled her nose, your hand drawing out goosebumps all over as it continued twirling beneath her ear. Everything about you made her feel alive, not even the boys at the gas station could draw out the pleasure into care; they came, fucked her and left with a hundred dollars in their pocket, but you had come into her life without her having asked and you had stayed out of your own accord. You wanted her in your life as much as she wanted you in hers. None of the things you did to or for her were to earn a promotion or for Avis to connect you with higher ups in the industry like she had had happen with others before, you did all those things for her without expecting anything in return because you wanted to make her happy, as simple as that. Hearing you speak to her with such emotion, your eyes shining with a feeling she had not seen in such a long time drove her chest to constrict under her corselette, the prospect of hearing you say what she wanted you to say making her heart race, her eyes glistening with unexpected tears that your thumb wiped gently as they fell, not wishing to smudge her makeup. No, you are the only one who could make her feel like this, utterly desired and cared for. So loved.

-Why are you crying? Have I said something to upset you?

-No, darling, you haven’t done anything wrong, I’m just… happy.

-Just the way I like you then.

Finally, she pressed her lips onto yours, softly, treading carefully into your space while moving her left arm around your neck fully. It felt like coming home. She did not make an attempt to enter your mouth even when you parted your lips slightly to grant her access, she basked in the feeling of your mouth simply being pressed against hers, the taste of your carmine on her tongue when she traced it. You didn’t need to ask her what she was feeling after your conversation, her lips were giving you enough information with the way she pecked and gently nibbled, pouring everything into the kiss. Parting after a minute to fill both your lungs she pressed her forehead against yours, her soft red curls falling around and over her face, caressing and slightly tickling your cheeks. She gave you a few more pecks before pulling back needing to feel the skin of your face, your warmth, needing to know that this was not a dream and that you were indeed solid and real under the palm of her right hand. There was desire in everything the two of you did, but there were too many things to do tonight, people expecting you both and you had gone to all the trouble to do this for her, so Avis pushed the need to take you upstairs to the back of her head for the time being. Ace had dumped her to go partying with his friends, and probably a hooker or two, thinking she would be moping around the house like a sad drunk housewife, not thinking that Avis was resourceful and had a beautiful lady in her arms who had planned the perfect night. She was dressed to kill, and she would have the best fucking New Year of her life. About to give you another peck, Gertie accidentally broke the spell by crossing the threshold, coming from the kitchen. Both of your heads turned to look at the woman.

-I’m sorry to interrupt Mrs. Amberg, but Miss Kincaid has phoned in quite a state asking if you would be so kind as to go to Mr. Samuel’s house.

-Is she alright? – Avis pecked your cheek before setting foot on the entrance hallway, the silk flowing like water around her body with each step she took towards Gertie, her voice dressed with concern.

-She seemed… worried, perhaps angry as well ma’am and she was adamant that I tell you that she needs you to go to Mr. Samuel’s house.

-But she didn’t explain to you why?

-I’m afraid not ma’am.

-It’s okay Avis, there’s plenty of time until twelve. – the relationship Avis shared with Ellen Kincaid was long and comforting, but also frustrating and caring, and anything that woman said to Avis always helped her somehow, without fail. You had seen the Kincaid magic at work a few times since you had begun working as her secretary, calming shouting spells or angry huffs. You also knew Avis would do anything for her and had given Ellen plenty of advice about various topics throughout the years, so having her call reinforcements like this meant that someone or something was going on that only the mighty Avis could handle. You walked over to her, placing both hands on her arms, rubbing the soft fabric and the skin underneath in a comforting motion. - We won’t lose our reservations just because we are little bit late, and Miss Kincaid needs your help

-As long as you are sure about this and don’t mind driving to Dick’s house, I guess it’s alright. I can give Ellen a call though and see what she wants, save us having to go at all.

-I swear I’m fine with it, Avis. If you are worried about people seeing me with you, I’ll just stay in the car.

-What? No! I don’t give a shit about what they think, I just don’t want your plans to go down the drain.

-They won’t, I promise. We go, see what the problem is, fix it if we can and then leave. Easy plan.

-You say that now, when you are not amongst drunk actors and producers. We’ll go in but we don’t know when we might come out.

-I’ve survived shopping on Thanksgiving and Christmas. I can take a few drunks just fine. Come on, the sooner we get there, the sooner we’ll leave. - She groaned a little but followed your cue, grabbing her black stole from where it laid over the railing, throwing it over her shoulder, and picking up her purse from the little table next to the front doors. Gertie wished you both a good night, winking discreetly in your direction as you opened those big wooden gates for Avis, letting her walk into the night. You rushed over to her when you heard the click of the doors behind you, watching the lady as she stomped towards your car. – Hey, hey. Avis, wait, stop. – she halted her motions, turning around with a questioning look in her big eyes. You took her free hand in yours as soon as you reached her. – Don’t be mad, Ellen is your friend, and she might be in real trouble.

-I know. I’m not mad at her, nor you, I’m fucking pissed at Ace for not giving a shit about traditions and dumping the party on Dick. His house is not as big as ours and some of the people that get invited turn into fucking monsters when they’ve got a couple of vodkas in their system. I’m worried about Ellen, sure, but I don’t want to subject you to any of that. I don’t want you to be in harm’s way.

-I love that you want to protect me, Avis, honestly, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Ellen is our priority, and if something does happen to me while we are there, I’ll scream the house down or stab people with my heels, whatever it takes to ease your mind. But we will cross that bridge if get to it, okay?

-If someone lays a single finger on you, I’ll destroy them. Their lives, their careers, maybe even their bodies. – her eyes were dark as she stepped back into your personal space, pulling you against her frame with the hand that you were still holding, feeling the way her breasts brushed against your coat through her gown with each breath. The rush of desire that you had first felt when she had stood at the top of the stairs returned full force, the air around you both charged and hot. - They’ll remember who Avis fucking Amberg is and that she will take drastic measures when it comes to you.

-Holy fuck, Avis.

-I very much intend to do so to you, honey, but after we rescue Ellen. You’ve made a good case in her name, and you promised me a date, so get your ass in that car.

-Yes, ma’am.

-No ma’am tonight, Y/N. Until dawn, I’m simply Avis.

-Avis. – it was as if you were rolling her name in your mouth, seeing how it sounded, how it tasted on your lips and tongue, her eyes darting to the way you traced your own lipstick at the sound of it. – A most beautiful name. I can’t wait for it to be the first word I say when the New Year arrives, a name I won’t stop uttering until the very first rays of sunlight break through the sky, hopefully.

Two could play her game, you thought. She was so close to your mouth, she only needed to end the few inches gap that separated you and you would be hers to do as she pleased with, and yet she pulled away, dropping your hand and beginning to walk towards your car, hips swaying in the night. You needed a moment to collect your thoughts and calm your horny self down a little, pulling the keys from your pocket and unlocking the vehicle with shaky fingers. Avis stood on your side of the car, tracing the white top with her hand before walking behind you to round the vehicle and sit in the passenger’s seat. She took the chance though and spanked you as you bent to step inside the vehicle, a surprised yelp escaping your lips as your head wiped to look at her, an innocent expression on her face but a naughty smirk overtaking her eyes. How could you not freaking adore her when she tempted you like this! The action left a delicious sting on your ass that sent a shiver to your core as you sat down and waited for her to settle beside you. If she started behaving like his you would have to end the date earlier than anticipated so you could have your way with her. Engine on and with the car back on the road you followed Avis’s directions, her hand signalling when to turn and what exits to take. You had never been to Mr. Samuel’s residence, not that you could recall anyway and to be honest you wished that the trip wouldn’t have to be under these terms, you would have simply loved to accompany Avis and have a quiet dinner with friends, holding her hand and pecking her cheek as a thank you when she handed you a drink while engaging her friends in conversation. Things that Ace didn’t do with her because he was a fucking idiot.

Through the corner of your eyes, you saw Avis’s knee bouncing up and down, a sign that she was nervous, your right hand shooting to rest over it gently, tapping and rubbing it over her dress in calming motions. You could not take all that nervousness out of her chest, but you could try and make her feel a little bit happier and little bit less stressed. Feeling her hand on top of yours, her warmth seeping under your skin, was a delightful and quiet moment just for the two of you, her fingers playing with your ring, her free hand turning the knob of the radio up a little to hear the music better, humming to the tune. The lyrics were unfamiliar to you, but she seemed to be enjoying herself even if her leg would bounce every once in a while; you weren’t expecting her anxiety to vanish just because. And upon being pointed towards a house, cars parked everywhere with hardly any room to drive or manoeuvre your vehicle into a safe spot, you realised she had not been kidding. Mr. Samuel’s house was by no means small, compared to your tiny ass apartment, but it was small if you took Avis’s place as the standard size for a mansion. People were also everywhere, out on the street, in the garden, on balconies, literally everywhere. You were sure that if you waited for a minute someone would go up on the roof. Turning the car off Avis pulled out a cigarette from her purse, taking a deep drag before puffing the smoke into the cabin, the nicotine in her system calming her nerves a bit more. You waited though, until she was ready to step out, after all, you were doing this at her own pace, throughout the entire night you would be following her cues, never pressing, never asking or doing things she would not enjoy. A minute passed before she stepped out of the car with you in tow, flicking the butt of her cigarette onto the floor, her hand grabbing yours and pulling your body close as she made her way to the front door, smiling at people as they greeted her but never slowing her steps.

If you dropped a pin in that house, over a dozen people would get stabbed before it reached the floor, if it reached the floor. The music was blasting from the record player, people were screaming and laughing loudly, and the filters they would usually have when sober absolutely gone, the smell of alcohol floating in the air along with overwhelming perfumes that made you scrunch your nose. And Avis had to attend this sort of parties all the time? No wonder she drank, there was no way in hell a sober person could stand more than two minutes in there before going nuts. Trying to move in between all these people was a sport in itself, and trying not to bump into people’s drinks or elbows was something impossible to achieve, as you very well realised when you tried to squeeze past two men with Avis pulling on your hand and a random sharp pain had rushed up your back, making you hiss. Avis’s eyes were searching furiously for a head of blond hair belonging to Ellen, but all she could see were fake brunettes and red heads and many bald spots as she walked up a couple of stairs to get a better view and a wider range of heads. This was definitely worse than shopping at Christmas or Thanksgiving, at least you could make it to the door then. A group of over five men walked past you from upstairs, whiskeys in their hands, eyeing you both as if you were dishes on a menu. You glared, not because they were looking at you, you still had your coat on, but because they were looking at Avis, and they were not being discreet or gentlemanly about it. One of them lifted a hand, your eyes watching in slow motion how it rose up in the air and turned, fingers extended, as it went straight for Avis’s ass, though you were quick and grabbed his wrist before it collided.

-Touch her and I’ll rip your fucking hands off.

-Wow, wow, calm down sweetheart. We were just having some fun. – upon the sound of your voice, venom spewing from each word, Avis turned her head to look at you and the men she had not even taken notice of, her eyes on your hand as it still held his wrist right above her buttocks before lifting her gaze to your face. If glares could kill, they would already be dead by the way you were murdering them with your eyes.

-How much fun do you think you could have if I rip your limbs off, eh? Sweetheart.

His smile dropped, muttering “bitch” as he freed his hand from your grip and walked down the stairs with the other four twats following him. What the fuck was wrong with men thinking they could do whatever they pleased with women? It was a tale as old as time, getting catcalled, pushed away from jobs because one happened to have something that wasn’t a dick in between one’s legs, getting called emotional or hysterical when you were just fucking done with all their bullshit. No wonder ladies preferred the company of other ladies, at least if one was being a bitch, there was a good reason for it and not because a man was trying to get his hands under your skirt and you just wanted him to stop. The surprised and yet loving look that Avis was throwing your way caught you off guard, her lips mouthing a “thank you” under all the noise around you, the hand that was still holding onto yours giving a gentle squeeze. Did she think you were going to let anyone, be it a man, a woman or a fucking alien touch her without her consent? No fucking way. You reciprocated and returned the squeeze. A woman’s voice called out Avis’s name, forcing you both to break your gaze and turn to look at the foot of the stairs, Ellen standing there, wringing her hands on her chest. Avis pulled you down with her to meet the other woman, noticing a big red stain in her usual pristine blue suit.

-Thank God you are here. This is madness Avis

-What’s wrong?

-Just look around! I don’t know who half of these people are, and you know I usually don’t mind, but there was a fight not twenty minutes ago and Dick got a bottle smashed on his head! – the usually collected woman was two seconds away from a full-blown panic attack, and maybe, just maybe, you thought, the stain on her jacket might not actually be wine. A shiver of fear ran down your spine, all the anger and lust you had been feeling in the past five minutes jumping out the window. Maybe these sorts of celebrations weren’t you cup of tea after all. -Doesn’t Ace usually hire security for this sort of parties?

-Of course, I gave Dick the list with all the phone numbers.

-Well, either they got murdered in the back and we just haven’t found them, or he did not hire them.

-Alright, alright, calm down Ellen. Where’s Dick?

-In the living room. He’s got a nasty cut on his forehead, but I cleaned it up and bandaged it. Henry was with him the last time I checked, keeping an eye on him.

-Okay, let me talk with him. Y/N, you stay put. Don’t move from here at all, I’ll be back in a few minutes, I promise.

Before you could protest, she had let go of your hand, the crowded room swallowing both her and Ellen. And there you were, alone, standing at the foot of the stairs looking like an idiot with your hands in your coat pockets without knowing a single person around you. They were all glammed up, with expensive suits and gorgeous dresses that you had only seen in magazines everywhere, blinding in the lights of the chandeliers, the ceiling fuzzy under a cloud of smoke from pipes, cigars and cigarettes. Even with the doors wide open the atmosphere inside Mr. Samuel’s house was stifling, almost choking with all the heat and the smells. Without thinking twice, you untied your coat and pushed it off your shoulders, folding it over your left forearm, the relief of not cooking in your sweat a welcome feeling, resting your back against the railing. Whatever song was playing now you could not make it out over the loud conversations, not that you had much chance of trying to as you felt the touch of a hand on your waist and a glass of something transparent right on your face. The drink was being held by a manly hand, so obviously this wasn’t Avis tempting you, and following the arm attached to it you found yourself looking up at Mr. Amberg’s lawyer, Lon Silver. You had never talked with him except for perhaps a few times as you directed him into your boss’s office and the formal greetings that one was supposed to give, but it did not go unnoticed by you how his eyes remained on your chest for a few seconds too long.

-Well, Miss Y/L/N, I wouldn’t have taken you for a party girl. Here, have a drink.

-Good evening, Mr. Silver. I have only accompanied someone, so I will be leaving shortly. Parties are not my thing, sir.

-Drop the formalities, please, it’s New Year’s Eve. Go on, drink, you feel rather tense.

The grip on your waist became uncomfortably hard and rough, the strength he was applying close to being painful, his hand pushing the drink onto yours. People inside your personal bubble was always a big no-no for you, except for Avis, she could do whatever she desired, so having Lon that close to you, his strong aftershave mixing with the alcohol of his breath made all sorts of alerts just go off in your head. Your eyes moved from the glass to his face observing how dark his eyes were along with the smirk on his thin lips, your body taking a step back. That seemed to both anger him and excite him because his smile dropped completely, the glass being pushed into your arms all while his grip on your waist became nearly bruising, still you did not grab the bloody drink. The sound of glass shattering was hardly heard in the crowded hall, but it seemed to echo in your head, reverberating as the drink crashed against the tiles and Lon pushed his body closer, his other hand now holding onto your wrist. It was as if your mind was frozen in place. This was Mr. Amberg’s lawyer, he could destroy you in the blink of an eye, but you did not want him, at all. That fear that had overtaken you not that long ago after hearing Ellen’s words was reaching the panicking peak now, heart racing, blood pumping in your ears.

-Sir, please, let go.

-It’s always the same with you young girls, isn’t it? You dress like this, to draw the eye but when a man looks at you, you all become frigid bitches.

-Mr. Silver, please, you are drunk.

-So what? That hasn’t stopped me from fucking others before.

-Please, stop, let go of me. I’m sure you would not do this sober.

-Wouldn’t I? I would have done unspeakable things to you already if I had had the chance. Which I do now, so don’t be a bitch. We’ll both enjoy it. – his head was in the crook of your neck, smelling you in. You only had two options, you thought, pray that someone would come to the rescue or step on his foot with your stiletto hoping that he would let go and you could run for your life.

-LON! – fate had chosen for you, thank God.

Avis’s voice carried from under the living room threshold with such ease, the redhead having screamed practically at the top of her lungs, startling everyone in the hallway. The man she addressed in particular jumped in his spot, letting your wrist go but not your waist, turning to face the woman. His face was contorted in a fake smile and a sweet greeting.

-Why Avis! Aren’t you supposed to be with Ace? Oh, right, he’d rather spend his time with someone else.

-Oh, Lon, still behaving like a fucking pervert, I see.

Her steps were so hard against the floor that you thought one of her heels could snap at any moment, but you did not care much right now. Your body had sighed with relief upon hearing her, even if you were still in Mr. Silver’s grip and could not wait for her to say something so he would let you go. She was beyond angry, you could see it in the way her body moved, her fists closed, her eyes hard and cold under her eyelashes. Reaching you both she did not hesitate, everyone staring at them, the noise having died down a little, thankfully, and grabbed his crotch with her right hand, nails digging hard into his flesh. He screamed loudly and painfully and dropped both his hands to hold her arm, freeing you, almost as if he thought her capable of ripping his junk off with one quick motion. Thinking about it for a second you thought she could actually do it by how furious she was. Pushing yourself off the railing you rushed her way, standing behind her while rubbing your wrist a bit trying to soothe the red spot that had covered your sensitive skin, body shaking as the adrenaline released into your bloodstream.

-Who the fuck do you think you are?

-Avis, let go!

-Why should I? You did not let go of her, did you? Did you?!

-No! No! Jesus, Avis, let go!

-I’m saying this one time and one time only. – her grip became harder, her knuckles white with the effort, Lon turned into a ball of whimpers and whines of pain as his eyes filled with tears. – If you touch her again, even so much as breath near her again, I’ll blow your dick and balls off with a shotgun.

-Alright! Alright!

-No, I don’t think you get the message. Would you like a demonstration, cause I’m sure I can get my hands on a gun.

-NO! FOR FUCK’S SAKES AVIS, LET GO! I’M SORRY! I’M SORRY!

Satisfied with the tears that ran down his cheeks she finally let him go, the man dropping to his knees with his hands covering his crotch, whimpering pathetically. He was like a little baby, curled on the floor. Neither you nor Avis felt a touch of sympathy for him and his pain though; he was lucky in fact, she could have done horrible things to him in that hallway if she had had the weapons, and no one would have known what had happened as they were all too drunk to even stand straight. Her hands shot to your cheeks as she turned around, her eyes roaming like crazy all over your body to make sure you were alright, the hatred and fury that had glazed them now completely changed over to concern and worry. It did not go unnoticed the way her eyes lingered on your dress, but she was quick to shake herself out of looking at you with lust, she still needed to assess that that man had not harmed you in any way. This was what she had feared, not him in particular, but anyone who could have seen your pretty face and decided they wanted you for themselves. This time she had got lucky and had intervened right on time before he could have done anything truly horrid to you, but that did not shake the feeling that she had failed you, out of her chest. In your head the only thought that was going around and around was that she had saved you, that the entire ordeal was over and she had saved you, which overtook every feeling of fear that man had imposed on you. After all nothing had happened to you, he didn’t get the chance, and you were not going to let him ruin your and Avis’s night.

-Are you okay? Has he hurt you? You are rubbing your wrist; did he twist it? Do you need a doctor?

-I’m fine, Avis.

-But its red, it probably hurts. – her warm hands moved from your cheeks to your arm, holding your hand gently to inspect the redness that was already vanishing.

-I’m fine, Avis.

-I’m sure there’s a doctor somewhere in here. Let me ask Ellen sh-

-Avis! – she stopped her rambling at the sound of your voice, her eyes locking with yours, her movements still at last. – I’m fine. He didn’t hurt me, my lady in shining armour came to my rescue and made sure of that. I’m fine.

-You are fine?

-I’m fine.

-Alright, I believe you. But at the slightest thing I’m taking you to a doctor.

-If it leaves your mind at ease, I’ll let you drag me all throughout Hollywood.

It was lucky Lon was already on the floor because Dick had stepped out into the hallway searching for Avis, her voice having carried well into the street, and he would have flipped at the sight of her with her hand on Lon’s crotch making him cry. Ellen stopped him from approaching either of you, whispering in his ear while pointing at the ball of flesh on the floor and you two, chuckling silently at the socked expression on his face. What a party, he thought. Avis’s hand was back in yours, fingers intertwined, pulling your body towards the front door all while asking Ellen if there was anything else she needed to do, to which the blond woman answered with a no. She blew a kiss at both of her friends while wishing them a good night and a happy New Year, still walking towards the street, only to stop for an instant when she heard Lon yelling that he was going to end her by telling Ace, at which she did not even bother to turn around. She didn’t need to see his face to answer him.

-Fuck off, Lon.

With Avis beside you now, it was easier to move on from the fear and craziness of the entire situation, laughing after a moment or two, your hot breath turning into translucent steam in the cold air of the night as you let Avis carry on pulling you. Only a few handful of people would remember this party, and it was both a good and a sad thing, but at least you could enjoy the hilarious points of tonight right there and then as you unlocked the door of your car, stepping inside it after throwing your coat on the back seats. God, the look on his face… you should have taken a picture. Avis was surprised at your response, thinking that maybe the adrenaline had overtaken you, and this was your body’s reaction to such a crazy thing. Still, she chuckled lightly before beginning to laugh alongside you as if she had been infected by it, her forehead on your shoulder, both bodies shaking uncontrollably. It was always joyous to hear her laugh, her body relaxed against yours, her voice loud and melodious echoing against the car top in absolute glee. You thought she didn’t get to enjoy herself like this often and she deserved it, even if the motive right now was less than pleasant. Wiping a tear that had gathered at the corner of your eye, you took a few calming breaths trying to stop the nearly continuous chuckles that melted along with Avis’s as she pushed herself against the door. When you finally caught your breath, it was impossible not to smile at the reddish blush that had spread over Avis’s cheeks, neck, and chest, her hair framing her face, complementing it beautifully. Even the light from the streetlamps seemed to be working in her favour tonight, making her eyes shine like rich molten chocolate and her hair like fire against her olive kissed skin skin.

She was doing nothing, absolutely nothing, and yet your body was on fire once more, the last few minutes forgotten in the back of your head. Perhaps it had been the entire act of saving you and the consequences that it had brought upon Lon, maybe it had been the way she had thanked you for protecting her from those jerks. Maybe it was the balance, the union of making sure you were both safe, you could not be sure, but you did know that you wanted her, here and now, and by the way her smile moved from simple relaxation and fun to desire, she had thought the exact same thing. It was not as if the car was a stranger to the two of you fucking in it. But this time it didn’t feel like you were simply lusting after her as you knelt on the seats, crawling towards her until her back was pressed firmly against the car door, your hands resting beside her hips but without touching, you face inches from hers, it was love. Her dress had fallen open as her legs parted to accommodate you, those firm and shapely legs dressed in nude silk that could drive you insane. Your tongue traced and licked her half-ajar lips, feeling her hot breath on your mouth, the carmine like a drug that could drive you wild. Pupils were blown wide, breaths rapid, nearly coming in pants when your hands moved onto her legs, fingering the fabric of the clip on her left thigh, feeling the way her skin rose in goosebumps, a quiet moan escaping Avis’s lips, those utterly desirable lips that were brushing against yours, those lips that had fought for you, threatened for you, pleased you and taken you to the heavens. Those lips that you claimed against yours.

It was rough and messy, but it also held a loving nature that made Avis sigh against your mouth, both your tongues battling for dominance, her teeth scrapping your upper lip. Both her hands had shot to the back of your head to keep you firmly pressed against her, chest against chest. Your hands moved from her stockings to her inner thighs as slowly as you could, drawing out whimpers and whines that were muffled by your kisses, teasing the edge of her knickers. That simple motion made her gasp loudly, one of her hands holding onto your wrist to prevent it from moving away from where she needed it the most. You let her guide you, fingers swiping against the lace feeling how wet she already was. Had her playing saviour turned her on?

Her head fell back against the window as your fingers worked on her through the fabric, whimpering when you removed them completely only to scream an instant later when you pushed the offending garment aside and plunged two fingers deep inside her. As much as you wanted to trail kisses down her exposed neck you did not want to risk staining the dress cherry red, so your lips remained upon hers as your fingers pumped in and out of her, curling to hit that spot. Avis had not had this in mind at all when you had both left the house, but she was not going to complain when you were working her into an orgasm that she could feel building in her core, like a fire that had begun to sparkle and was rapidly growing and blazing. Her hips thrust to meet your movements, your free hand using one of those moments when her hips were up in the air to remove the dress from underneath her, the feeling of the leather under her ass enticing her even further.

The whines and whimpers were growing into pants and moaning gasps. With your thumb you rubbed her clit, the surprised yelp that escaped her throat swallowed by your lips, the speed of your fingers never faltering. She was mumbling in your mouth, but you could not make out her words, not that you needed to, her body was signalling that she was close with the way her walls were clenching around your fingers. After giving her clit a hard rub her orgasm overtook her, catching you both off guard, her head lulled back as her back arched off the door forcing your kiss to end as her voice rose in high pitched gasps. Even in this cloud of pleasure, she was trying so hard not to scream your name at the top of her lungs, there were too many people that would be able to hear her, her juices all over your fingers, walls and thighs trembling, her hands grabbing onto your shoulders for dear life. You slowed the pace of your fingers, rubbing her calf with your other hand to bring her gently down from her high, her body slumping against the car door after a moment, her breasts nearly spilling out of her dress as her breaths returned slowly to normal. Her eyes were closed as if she could savour the pleasure you had given her for a bit longer like that, opening them when she felt you pull your fingers out. She watched mesmerized how you took a handkerchief out of your purse to clean her up as gently as you could, her body twitching whenever you brushed her swollen clit, returning her underwear to its initial position once you were satisfied with your work. Bending forward you gave her inner thighs a gentle peck before sitting back on your knees.

-What was that for? – her voice was quiet, a lazy smile on her lips, fingers playing with the chain around your neck basking in the afterglow.

-For saving me, for being my lady in shining armour, for nearly ripping Mr. Silver’s balls off… For simply being you, Avis.

-For being me? You know you don’t have to do this every time I do something for you.

-Trust me, it was no effort on my part besides, it is my most sincere opinion that you should always be shown just how wonderful and perfect you are.

-I like that you seem to not be bothered by my many faults. Ace would have gone insane had he seen what I did to his precious lawyer.

-Good thing I’m not Ace. I know when I have the most extraordinary woman in front of me, and instead of taking her for granted, I take her to dinner. If you still want to.

-Of course! You worked too hard for this; I won’t let my own lust and desire ruin your plans. This orgasm can last me until midnight, so surprise me Y/N, take me wherever you want.

-To the Heavens then.

-Oh, you soppy girl.

-No, the restaurant is called the Heavens, I swear.

It was stupid, an absolute nonsense that made you both laugh, a little quieter this time. This is how you wanted to spend every minute of your life, with her, not a worry in the world. Avis moved to sit properly on the passenger seat, draping her skirt back over her legs and pulling a cigarette out as you settled yourself behind the wheel. The ride was completely different this time. The air around you was calm, relaxed, and contented, the tune on the radio suddenly a song you knew like the back of your hand, humming quietly as Avis began to sing. You had never known she possessed such a beautiful voice, sweet as honey, gentle like a breeze with a pitch so perfect you wondered if she had ever done anything that wasn’t simply perfect in her entire life. It was outstanding, to say the least. 

Your breath hitched in your lungs at her words, stunned by the emotion that dripped in between the music, her hand searching for yours where it laid beside you on your seat, intertwining your fingers. She didn’t need you to tell her how you felt, she knew, in everything you did, in every glance, every smile, every kiss, and every word that left your lips. Singing her feelings to you was the best way for her to let you know how she felt, that in her life Ace was the other woman. This was what the meaning of the word happy meant to you, what it had brought to your bleak and monotone life, and dressed it in colourful clothes and astonishing sunsets.

Time after time

I tell myself that I'm

So lucky to be loving you

Many nights you had dreamt of that, opening the door to your apartment to find her curled up on the couch, waiting for you. You hadn’t wanted her to spend the evenings alone in that big house, you had wanted to be beside her, no matter what people thought. The lights of the side streets weren’t as bright as the main avenue, but that gentle hue seemed to agree with Avis, watching her sway her head at the beat of the music, her eyes closed. How could light play such games that with a full moon over your heads its glow always bathed her at the perfect angle making you melt in your seat. She looked like she belonged in a movie, her body gently bent over a balcony railing letting the moon wash over her as her love serenated her.

So lucky to be

The one you run to see in the evening

When the day is through

I only know what I know

The passing years will show

You've kept my love so young, so new

You had parked in front of a colourful restaurant, nearly hitting the trunk of a blue Lincoln that was stationed in front of you as your eyes had been bewitched by Avis, loud voices surrounding the car from the people that were either leaving or going into the restaurant, but they were nothing but background noise to you. Avis’s eyes locked with yours, you seemed to be doing that a lot tonight, singing the words directly at you, never blinking. Your heart fluttered in your chest, once more her mouth telling you that she was so lucky to be loving you, her voice dropping from singing to speaking the last line, stating a fact. And your greedy heart accepted it because to you the meaning of happy was Avis. The rest of the song went by in silence, both of you lost in each other so deep that the world could have vanished around you, and you wouldn’t have taken notice, your lips pecking hers, foreheads pressed together. If time could be stopped, you would have done so right there and then never wanting to move on from this. The next song on the radio was a cheerful Christmas song, but the change in tune did not break the spell, it only seemed to enhance the joy of the moment as you turned the engine off and stepped out, pulling her towards you into the street.

And time after time

You'll hear me say that I'm

So lucky to be loving you

The atmosphere was contagious, people singing off-key and dancing clumsily over the pavement. Pulling Avis against your chest you joined in the simple bliss of the moment, swaying from side to side with one hand on her waist while the other held onto hers, twirling among the people. It made her laugh, following your steps that seemed to be getting closer to the restaurant door, an older couple clapping as you twirled Avis under your arm before pressing her against you, dipping her. Her laughter only became louder, gleeful, with her body arched towards the floor, her precious red waves falling free. Returning her to her feet as she caught her breath, she let you guide her and open the door so she could go in first. What a lady you were. She was taken aback by how beautiful that place was, the entrance hall covered in frescos that reminded her of the Sistine Chapel, a gorgeous semicircular arch in white marble dividing the entryway from the dining room, the lights dim but not so much that one wouldn’t be able to see where they were going, adding to the mystical atmosphere. A young man approached her dressed in a black suit with a name tag on his lapel, greeting her kindly and asking if she had made a reservation. Avis nodded, turning her head in your direction as you let the door close, stepping inside the restaurant. The man’s eyes suddenly shone in recognition, greeting you excitedly, smiling down at Avis so she would not feel pushed aside or left out.

-Y/N! We were all worried you weren’t coming!

-Hello, Marco. We got caught up in something, but we are here now. How is your father?

-You know, in the kitchen. He’s been asking me for the last hour if you had arrived.

-You can tell him now that I’m here, and that I’ve said to leave you alone. – Avis watched the exchange with curiosity, the boy’s English good but with a very thick Italian accent, his hands gesturing as if they had strings and were being controlled by an external force. There was a comforting glow on your face at the sight of the boy, as if you had been lifelong friends, perhaps as if he were a brother. Your eyes drifted towards her, taking her hand and placing it in the crook of your arm, smiling sweetly at her. - Oh, Marco, this is Avis Amberg, my dinner guest for tonight.

-Pleased to meet you, Signoria Amberg. Y/N has spoken so much about you.

-Good things, I hope.

-Of course! She’s taken with you. Please, follow me.

She had never been to this restaurant before, but it had clearly been there for a while now, the dining room absolutely filled up with people. The walls were covered in stained glass windows, the ceiling decorated with gorgeous chandeliers, the floor made out of white marble as pictures and paintings of beautiful landscapes dressed the empty spots on the walls. It had a wonderful homely touch in every detail, names carved on the pillars that were disguised as columns, like something one would find inside temples, old photographs of people that were clearly simple folk from somewhere outside glamorous Hollywood in every corner. The conversations were loud and buzzing with excitement, children laughing and playing, old couples holding hands, smiling at each other. This place was so different from those fancy places that she frequented with Dick and Ellen or that she would take producers and actors to butter them up. This place was wholesome, it had a history seeping through every crack and corner, and Avis could not think of a better place for her to be than here with you. Marco guided you both through tables, speaking with some of the guests in Italian, switching to English as he addressed others, the gentle sound of music in the background in a mix of songs from both countries that pleased the guests. Coming to a hallway he opened a black door showing a spacious room with a table in the back, in front of a huge stained glass window.

-Here you are Signoria Amberg. Y/N – he bowed his head before closing the door, leaving you alone. Avis was shocked not only because the room was even more beautiful than she could have imagined, walls dressed in white wood, the ceiling filled with images of fields of lemons and olive trees painted al fresco, but because she knew how hard and how much this sort of rooms cost.

-A private booth? Y/N, this must have cost you a fortune, I would have been alright with a table in the main dining room.

-I know, but Marco’s father never gives me one. This room is my room whenever I come here, so he doesn’t actually make me pay for it. “It is yours until I die,” he says to me, so I’ve stopped fighting.

-How long have you known these people? You seem like part of the family. – she was looking around the room, her hands tracing the shapes of the columns, feeling the warmth of the tinted wood under her fingertips. She clearly liked the place, the lump that had formed in your throat when she had first stepped inside the restaurant vanishing. You had been worried there for a moment that she would not like it and would ask you to take her somewhere else, but her eyes shone with excitement and her frame relaxed, so there was nothing to worry about in the end.

-Well, when I came to Hollywood a few good years ago I came across Marco who needed help with the restaurant as they were building it, so I offered a helping hand. I’ve been a part of the family ever since. It’s not an exciting story I’m afraid.

-Not every story needs to be exciting to be good, don’t you think? You were alone and now you have them… and me. That’s the best story in my opinion.

-Bimba! – the doors practically flew off their hinges at the force the man standing under the threshold used, his frame tall and big frame, rounded stomach, and hairy face filling up the room, that deep rambling voice tainted with a thick Italian accent, just like his son, bouncing off the walls. It startled you both, Avis practically jumping on the spot, a graceful hand on her chest.

-Jesus, Giuseppe, you nearly killed me there.

-Ah, nonsense! It’s good to see you again, you have been away for too long.

-I came by three days ago!

-As I said, too long. Ah, who is this bellissima signoria? – in two big strides he was towering over Avis, taking her hand and kissing the back of it, a gentle blush spreading over her cheeks at the gesture. If this weren’t the two people you knew the most in the world, you would be jealous, but Avis would never leave you for him and he would never leave his wife for Avis, of that you were sure, still you glided to her side, placing your hands on her shoulder to look up at the big man.

-This is Avis Amberg.

-She is the woman you never shut up about?

-Giuseppe!

-What? It is you who talks about her, not me. So, Avis, may I call you Avis, nah, I will call you Avis, how do you like our Y/N?

-Giuseppe, please. – Avis thrived in the way you hid your face in the crook of her neck as if you could run away from the embarrassing conversation, both your bodies shaking lightly with Avis’s laughter. God, she wished she could see you, you would probably be the most delectable shade of red.

-Since you asked, I like her very much Mr…

-Call me Giuseppe. So, you like her, and she likes you… Ahhh, l’amore. So beautiful. When I met my Teresa, I thought she was horrible. She had a temper that could make her fight in a war, but when I talked with her, I knew I wanted her to be yelling at me forever. So, I married her. Now you have found your Teresa, Y/N, and I hope she yells at you exactly like you dreamed she would.

You didn’t quite want Avis to yell at you, more along the lines of you making her scream, but in a way he was right. You had found the woman of your dreams, you just had to make sure her husband never found out. Lifting your head from Avis’s shoulder, the orange blossom aroma of her hair filling your lungs, making you feel all warm and fuzzy, Giuseppe caressed your cheek with his big hand. He was a second father to you and his main project in life was to make sure all his kids were happy, including you, and although he did not understand in full why you would prefer a woman over a man, he could see the light in your eyes, the pink on your cheeks, how your days had moved from repetitive boring documents to finding a purpose. But what he could see most of all was that this older woman that you had in your arms shared that same light. Two perfect halves that had found each other, complementing the other, seeing the angles that the other person couldn’t, protecting and loving each other without a doubt, without expectations. He patted Avis’s hand gently before guiding you both to the table, pushing the chair to let the older woman sit first before moving on to yours, two menus already waiting on top of the table. He made his excuses to allow you to look at the dishes, closing the door and leaving you alone once more.

-He’s quite something.

-He’s passionate. He wanted to be a painter, a writer, an actor, anything and everything, so he feels things quite deeply. He did not offend you, did he?

-No, not at all. One would think that living surrounded by actors you should be used to this sort of thing, the passion, the art, but no. They are superficial boring people, most of them anyway. This Giuseppe has the heart of an artist, the emotions. It is a change from parrots that vomit scripts in front of a camera. – her eyes drifted onto the menus in her hands, looking at all the wonderful dishes that were written. - So why is he a chef?

-Because of his Teresa. She taught him all the things his mother could not, and he learnt, quite fast.

-Because he loves her.

-How could he not? She came into his life when he was down, broken, tired and bored of doing nothing with his life and she brought him spice, and sex, and happiness and how could anyone say no to the person that changes them for the better? How could he say no to his Teresa? How could I say no to you?

Her heart did not leap, it somersaulted, in her chest upon hearing your words, unsure if the first part was how you had felt before she had walked into your life or if it was indeed how the man had felt. It was true on both accounts. Her eyes drifted to look at you over the menu, seeing that you were looking back at her, the moment still in time. Avis had cried for too long about her life, her marriage, about how alone she felt as if she were just an accessory to Ace’s life destined to do nothing, be nothing. But suddenly you were there, and all that pain and hurt from the past decade or so had vanished into nothing, care and love blooming, feeling like she mattered for the first time in her life, and all the credit was yours to take. You had picked up her pieces and instead of gluing them together temporarily like Ernie had been doing for years, you were actively fixing her. There was no transaction, no contract to be fulfilled, no promotions or brand-new careers to begin, it was just little you giving little Avis what her heart needed the most.

Marco came back a couple of minutes later to take note of your drinks, informing you that the kitchen would stop serving warm dishes thirty minutes before midnight. Checking the clock on the wall you saw that it was fifteen minutes away from eleven thirty, so hurriedly you took Avis’s menu and began pointing at dishes telling her which ones were good and which ones were a little bit less good, earning a chuckle from Marco, making mental notes whenever she said that she didn’t like an ingredient for future dates. In the end, you settled on a two-person parmigiana di melanzane, a side of ruschette, which Giuseppe knew you adored, Eggs in Purgatory, and a bowl of chicken pastina. It was a lot of food, you knew, but there were just so many things you wanted her to try, so perhaps you had gone a little bit overboard, not that whatever was left would go to waste, no, Teresa would wrap it for you so you could take it home, maybe even make some extra bits here and there so Avis could take them home as well. True that she was nearly their age, but Teresa was a mother to everyone, be it a three-year-old or a fifty-year-old, and leftovers were leftovers in Hollywood and Italy. Marco wrote it all down before excusing himself, the sounds of the main dining room seeping into your booth for a moment before it all turned silent again. An idea popped into your head. Standing from your chair you made your way to the left corner of the room, next to the door, where a record player rested on top of a small table along with a box filled with vinyls. Avis rested against the back of her chair, lower lip in between her teeth, one leg crossed over the other allowing her knees to peek through the opening of her dress as she observed you flick through the disks, your curvaceous body moving gently, pulling one out after a minute.

She did not quite catch the title of the album, not that she was paying much attention when there was so much of your skin exposed for her to feast on, her eyes raking and drinking in every inch of flesh, waiting for you to finish settling the disk, placing the needle on top and turning the machine on. There was only the sound of the needle scratching over the vinyl for a moment before the soft chords of an acoustic guitar began to play. Of course you would choose a love song, you just couldn’t help yourself, but she did not mind at all, she hadn’t felt like a lovesick teenager in far too long and how could she ever be mad at you when you were walking towards her with you palm extended asking her to dance. She took it without hesitation, letting her body be pulled towards yours, her hands resting over your shoulders while she felt the warmth of your palms around her waist. The song was quiet, gentle in its tones making the words the centre of attention, a confession that was so close to slipping out of your lips, right at the tip of your tongue. You began to sway slowly, your feet not moving from the spot in the middle of the room, a place just for the two of you, no Ace, no studio, no Ellen or Lon, just Avis and you. You had both danced many times in your life, but nothing could compare to this private moment.

-I have not told you yet, but you look beautiful. That dress looks exquisite on you.

-Did you forget to compliment me and are trying to fix it before midnight? It’s alright if you did, we’ve had a hectic night.

-I did not, I was too in awe of you that I could not find the words. Saying that you look beautiful feels like such a weak compliment, perhaps I should say that you look bewitching, stunning, divine… I could go on you know.

-I wouldn’t mind if you did. – you just couldn’t get enough of her, be it her perfume, her gorgeous red lips, the way she looked at you with those big brown eyes of hers that made your legs grow weak. You would never understand how her husband did not fall to his knees every time she set foot in a room, it was madness. - It would be a change from only complimenting me when I’m in my underwear.

-As if you don’t do the same.

-No, I compliment you when you are not in your underwear, it’s different.

-And would you want me in nothing but my pearls if we were somewhere else? A chance to make sure I’m not in my underwear?

In the light of the chandelier, you could see how her pupils were blown wide, nearly overtaking the brown of her irises, the grip she had on your shoulders harder than before, her short nails scraping the nape of your neck. A quiet groan slipped out of your lips at the feeling, goosebumps all over your skin, her lips brushing yours but never truly kissing, the music still guiding you both around the room. The grip on her waist was harder, fingering the fabric, surprised that you could actually feel the lace of her corselette through the silk of her gown. God, you wanted her so bad, but it would be far too inappropriate to take her on top of the table when anyone could come in and call you out on your behaviour, you would just need to wait. Not that this foreplay was a bad thing, your eyes counting all the freckles that were exposed on her chest, licking your lips as the swells of her breasts rose and fell. Avis’s head was spinning, your berries shower gel powerful enough that she could almost taste it on her tongue along with your cherry lipstick, your long neck so tempting. She could bend and leave her mark right on your collarbone, make sure everyone knew you were hers, but she could not subject you to a reprimand from these lovely people you had learnt to love as family. She would have to wait.

The next song came, filling the space with violins that echoed off the walls, allowing you to take her hands from your shoulders so you could actually twirl her around the room, her skirt swaying in fluid motions around both your legs. You were quite the dancer she realised, feeling her body follow your cues with such ease, not bothering to stop when the door opened and in came Marco with Avis’s martini and your French 75. If he had wanted to comment, he had thought better than to actually say whatever had crossed his mind, keeping his lips tight and slipping out of the room as quietly as he could, not before letting his eyes linger as you spun Avis around, pressing her back against your chest, her hair flying around her like the fire she could make you feel with just a look of her adoring eyes. It was utterly delightful to have this woman that you had never in a million years thought would even look your way, in your arms absolutely relaxed. A moment later Marco came back with the bowl of pastina and the Eggs in Purgatory, assuring you the main course would be out soon along with the bruschette, your eyes twinkling at the sound of that. You hadn’t realised how famished you were until the delicious smell of tomato sauce and chicken broth filled the room, Avis’s stomach growling right on cue. She chuckled, placing a hand on her abdomen as you guided her to the table, the music still playing in the background.

It looked delicious and tasted even better once you had both settled on your chairs, napkins on your laps, forks digging in the eggs. Avis moaned loudly as she took the first bite, her eyes closed and her head lulled back, triggering an utterly indecent response in your body, your knickers pooling at the sight. How could everything this woman did be so positively sexy, no matter what it was, it was an entire research you were willing to perform yourself, no help needed. You imagined a drop of sauce falling right on top of her breast, your tongue aiming to please as you licked it off her skin, several times, to make sure she was perfectly clean, pushing the top of her dress down to reveal that she was indeed wearing nothing, a dream to think she could ever do that. Your thighs pressed together, shaking your head to try and vanish the image so could enjoy the food before Avis had it all. And the eggs were indeed delicious, the acidity of the sauce and the sharp flavour of the garlic mixing with the softness of the egg. By George, Teresa was an angel in the kitchen. In only a few minutes both plates were cleared, though you did not eat much, Avis’s moans were far too distracting, perhaps it was all a ploy so she could actually eat the whole thing while also working you up, killing two birds with one stone. Breaking your gaze from how she was now cleaning up around her mouth with her middle finger, you glanced at the clock. Only twenty minutes until midnight. This time it was Giuseppe who came in around five minutes later with the parmigiana, placing a tray with several bruschette in front of you along with a big ball of mozzarella dressed in olive oil and some basil and salt, giving you a kiss on top of your head. His deep voice spoke to Avis -Buon appetite- before bowing his head, slipping back into the kitchen. You picked up your drink, tasting the gin on your tongue with your eyes on her as she took in the food.

-How was the pastina, Avis? I think I only got to smell it.

-Ha ha, very funny. Do you want us to divide this meal?

-And miss hearing you enjoy them because I’m too busy eating? I don’t think so. Here, try this, I’m sure you have never had anything this good in your life.

The mozzarella dripped beautifully on the plate as you sliced it open, the cream inside the perfect consistency. Picking up a bruschetta from your plate, returning a fallen tomato to the top, you picked some of the mozzarella with a spoon, draping it over the bread before bending over the table with one hand under it to catch any crumbs. Avis bend slightly to meet you in the middle, opening her mouth and taking a bite, her eyes never leaving yours, her lips touching your fingers before she pulled away tasting your creation. The moan that she produced was loud and sensual, like the ones she had made when you had been in the car, her finger picking up a fallen drop of the cheese over her lips, licking the tip without breaking eye contact. The room was stifling now, her hand grabbing your wrist so she could take another bite of the bread, her tongue wrapping around your fingers to lick them clean. She sat back against her chair basking in the way she had you wrapped around her little finger without having done so much as to use her mouth, something that she was very good at judging by your reactions. Picking up your drink you downed it in one go needing to lubricate your throat, the cracked ice cooling your body a little, but only a little.

As much as she was enjoying tempting and driving you mad like this, she wanted you to eat, so she picked up some of the Parmigiana and placed it on your plate before serving herself. Taking her cue, you dived in, the aubergines perfectly cooked, the melted cheese making a beautiful pull as you took a bite, needing to use the fork to break the string. Her exquisite palate had tasted the best champagne, the most expensive caviars, imported meats, and exotic fruits and yet the meal presented to her tonight was the best of them all. It was homemade with love, with care, and maybe the products didn’t cost a fortune, but they were still good, perhaps grown by Giuseppe and his wife. Next time she had to plan a lunch date with Ellen, she would bring her here. You ate calmly, engaging Avis in conversation every so often though the silence that sometimes filled the room was never deafening nor uncomfortable, the music still playing in the background. With the table now filled with empty plates and both your stomachs satisfied there was nothing else to do but wait; only five minutes left until midnight.

-So, what was wrong with Ellen? We got caught up and I never really asked.

-It was pure miscommunication. – she brought the martini to her lips, leaving a red mark on the rim. - Ace usually hires extra security when we do parties at the house, so when I gave Dick the list of phone numbers, the company we usually use was there. Well, Dick did phone them, but they got confused and ended up not writing the address, so when the time came to send the guys down there was nowhere for them to go.

-And didn’t they call to ask where the party was?

-They say that they did but I’m not sure. Dick says that the phone hasn’t rang all afternoon. Anyway, I gave them the address and told them to get their asses over to Dick’s place immediately or we would go without their services in the future.

-But why was Ellen so distraught?

-Didn’t you see the bandage on Dick’s head? The woman was a minute away from needing an ambulance after the fight happened. It’s a miracle she didn’t call the police.  But everything’s alright now, I hope.

-If it isn’t they will have to fend for themselves, because I didn’t tell anyone where I was taking you.

-I’ll drink to that.

The rest of the martini went down her throat, the glass on the table just as Marco came back with an empty tray. Avis was the one to talk with him this time, telling him that the food was magnificent, to give her most sincere congratulations to the cooks as he picked up plates, staking them along with the empty glasses, a gentle blush on his cheeks as he thanked the woman. It wasn’t as if Avis had any trouble communicating with people, her charisma and outgoing personality helped her in that department, but it warmed your heart to see that she was trying her best to connect with your adopted family. None of the boyfriends or girlfriends you had brought here had even bothered to talk with them, probably one of the main reasons you had sent them packing. You didn’t even get the chance to open your mouth though before Giuseppe burst in with a bottle of champagne, two glasses, and two bowls. He was talking a mile a minute, mixing Italian and English in a gibberish that neither of you understood, but he was excited and didn’t care, a short woman with deep emerald eyes and dark hair popping her head through the doors calling for him. She blew you a kiss before pulling her husband out the door, Avis observing with an amused expression how you laughed as you said hi to Teresa. She understood the reason behind the champagne, but she missed why there were two bowls of grapes on the table.

-Y/N, honey, what’s with the grapes? I thought the usual Italian dessert was tiramisu.

-It is, one of many, anyway. No, the grapes are a tradition from my home. – she sat a little bit straighter on the chair, resting her head on her hand while listening intensely to your explanation, her big eyes taking in every word that left your lips. – In the last twelve seconds of the years you are supposed to eat twelve grapes.

-Isn’t that a bit of a choking hazard?

-Yes, but it’s much more fun than it sounds. Eating them all before the New Year arrives its supposed to bring good luck, but now it’s more of a fun game. You just look around and see who’s laughing even before they’ve started eating, who goes hysterical with a mouthful of them, who’s like in a corner eating them without a single emotion in their system, you know, just have fun with your friends and family eating twelve grapes. Some people are pros and finish the bowl way before the twelve seconds are over and then there’s the people who watch that laugh after the New Year has arrived.

-I had never heard of such a thing. I’ve been to so many places and I’ve never bothered with anything that wasn’t boutiques or fancy restaurants. We really do have our heads up in our own asses, don’t we?

-I wouldn’t say that. You are a woman of the world, but I don’t expect you to know everything about every single place you’ve been to, and I know there’s so much I don’t know about your home, Avis but you don’t punish me for it. There’s plenty of time to learn. What I do hope is that you’ll share this tradition with me. I promise the grapes are small.

-Anything for you, honey. And if I do choke, I’ll have you to resuscitate me. Come over here, let me see if you know how to do mouth-to-mouth.

Who were you to deny her proof? Standing from your chair you rounded the table until your body was towering over hers, bending so that your hands were resting on the chair, your mouth inches from hers. Finally, she rose a little from her seat to meet your lips, relief washing over your body like a wave, allowing you to relax in her grip as her hands rested on your hips, drawing you to sit on her lap. Upon feeling her teeth nibbling on your lower lip you opened your mouth, granting her the access she desired. Both tongues battled against each other, yours more lazily than hers, after all, she was the one who thrived in having control over you. Slipping from the top of the chair your hands threaded in between her soft locks, pulling gently. She groaned in your mouth, the grip on your hips harder, pushing you closer to her. Parting after a moment, lungs screaming for air, you heard the commotion outside the room growing bigger, Avis’s eyes looking at the clock over your shoulder. A minute she whispered in your ear. Plenty of time for you to share another kiss you thought, drawing her face back to yours for a few more seconds, tracing her lips with your tongue, removing what little she had left of her carmine.

Not moving from your spot in her lap after breaking the kiss you handed her a bowl before picking up yours, eyes glued to the clock. Thirty seconds. Your heart was racing in your chest with excitement, just like when you had been a kid, waiting with trembling fingers. Twenty seconds. Avis could not help the smile that painted her swollen lips at your enthusiasm, watching as you did a quiet countdown. Fifteen seconds. You picked up the first grape, motioning for Avis to do the same. Fourteen, thirteen, twelve! You popped the first one in, then another, and another, all while chewing as fast as your jaw would allow, eyes focused on the bowl otherwise you would start laughing. Four more grapes went down the gullet but there were still a few seconds left; you could make it. Another one in, and another one and you were practically swallowing them whole, but you were almost there, just three grapes left. Just when you had finished chewing and swallowing the last one the clock struck twelve, howls filling the air around you. With the brightest smile in the world, you tilted your bowl to show Avis only to be made a fool when she showed you hers, lifting the hand that had been on your hip with four fingers stretched.

-Avis! Four seconds to spare?!

-What can I say, I’m a pro.

-Next time I’ll get the big ones.

-And you think I haven’t had anything bigger in my mouth? – God, she really knew what to say to turn you on even further, the fire that had been growing steadily all night practically blazing. - Now my turn for a tradition, American style. -Her lips crashed against yours, her hand on your back pressing you impossibly close to her body. The kiss was bruising but oh so erotic and delightful and you never wanted it to end, but there was a toast still waiting and in that joyous moment when everything was perfect you wondered what she would taste like after having had a glass of champagne.  After a few instants Avis broke the kiss, panting slightly. – Happy New Year Y/N.

-Happy New Year, Avis.

Hurriedly you stood from her lap, pulling her to her feet as you picked up the bottle Giuseppe had left, rubbing the cork before turning to look away from her, a loud pop reverberating along with the record player that was still working, foam and the sparkling liquid pouring out onto the floor due to the pressure of the gas. Avis had both glasses in her hand waiting for you to pour the drinks, watching the foam fill it up and spill slightly, handing you your glass once you had returned the bottle back to the table. Crystals clinked, bringing it up to taste the delicious liquid on your tongue, bubbling up your nose and down your throat. Now was the moment. Once Avis had swallowed her sip you grabbed her by the neck and pulled her down for another kiss, a surprised yelp that soon turned into a quiet moan muffled by your lips as you pushed your tongue inside her mouth without a fight. She was utterly delicious after drinking champagne. The spell was broken by the sound of fireworks, a gleeful look on Avis’s face as she broke the kiss, pulling you out of the room and into the street, the glasses still in your hands. It was beautiful. The night sky was filled with colourful forms and sparkly rainbows, flying over everyone’s heads every second. Both your gazes were glued to the firmament up above, but that did not stop you from taking her hand in yours, fingers interviewed as the sky filled up with golden glows. Nothing had ever been more perfect, nothing would ever be more special, her eyes travelling down to yours watching in the reflection the blue glittery traces that crossed the sky. She had waited enough, and dessert was due. She moved her head to the crook of your neck, her lungs filling up with the gentle traces of your floral perfume, whispering in your ear for only you to hear.

-Take me home and make me feel like a thousand stars. Fill my life with fireworks Y/N.

Her tone sounded almost as if she was pleading, a pang of sadness stabbing your heart, watching how her eyes were filled with both an imperious need for you and a softness that spoke to you in so many levels. Walking backwards into the restaurant, the sky still painted by the colourful display, you did not have to use any kind of force to guide her back to the private booth, the restaurant empty as everyone was out on the street. The record had ended by then, the only sound inside the room being the needle as it scratched over the vinyl, but that was superfluous to you, every ounce of your attention was on Avis. She took on last sip of her champagne, leaving it on the table next to yours, her stole draped over her shoulder and her purse in her empty hand. Your eyes were locked never wanting to break contact, never wanting to stray. You wished to lift her in your arms and leave everything behind, take her to the ends of the world and love her for all eternity, but life was nothing like one’s dreams and yet this moment felt just like one. You pulled out a fifty and left it on the table, thinking that you would not get to see Giuseppe or any of the others before leaving, but just as you were crossing the main dining room Teresa called your name. You turned, but the woman did not ask you to join them for drinks or to wait a bit longer before leaving, she simply approached you, kissed you on the cheek and wished you and Avis a happy New Year, handing the older woman a brown package. There was something in the way Teresa was looking at the two of you that made you think that perhaps it wasn’t so bad to take that leap of faith you had been so scared of, that it was worth taking this risk, to fall in love at last.

You promised to visit soon, telling her that the dinner was marvellous, like always and that it was paid before blowing her a kiss as you still pulled Avis out the door. Getting to the car was no effort, it was as if fate was guiding your every action and aiding you in reaching the final goal, slipping into the drivers sit. People were all around you, but you needed her to know that her every wish was your command and so you twisted your body to meet her lips, a hand resting on her cheek. She melted under your touch, under your kiss, feeling every emotion that you had promised to tell her passing from your lips to hers. She felt renewed with energy, love and lust and everything in between bursting from every pore of her body, not wanting to separate from you, but it had to happen, your body returning to its original position before you turned the engine on. You had considered for an instant taking her to your place, but you had left things everywhere and you did not want to have to tidy up before taking her to your bed, not unless you wanted her to grow cold on you, so you swerved into a side street and drove back to her place. She was confused at first, but upon seeing the determination that had glazed over your eyes, she sat back and relaxed letting you do what you had to do. The gates were closed but not locked, upon Avis’s order, but with a gentle jab from the hood of your car they shrieked and opened, not a soul in sight as you parked right next to Avis’s black Cadillac.

It felt quite familiar to step out of the car and meet over the stone path that led to her front door, but everything about this time was different. There was no hurry, no element of surprise that could interrupt and end it all, it was just you and Avis under the front porch, her hand in yours. The cold air of the night was raising goosebumps on your skin, a shiver shaking your frame, but you did not falter in your stand, taking her hand and placing it on your cheek, kissing her palm. Had this been twenty years ago Avis would have stood under the tiny porch light kissing you before you had to turn and leave her behind, thinking about how she would have had to go to bed alone in that big empty dark house, but it wasn’t the 20s and it wasn’t a random scenario in her head. She could kiss you still under the tiny porch light, gentle nibbles and pecks making her melt against your body, her hands snaking round your neck to keep you in place. She could moan in your mouth as your hands travelled from the shape of her waist down to her hips and then her firm ass to pull her closer to you. And after the kisses ended and you were left standing there panting and incensed, you wouldn’t have to go away, she opened those big doors and pulled you inside. The house was warm and quiet and so very dark, only a few rays on moonlight breaking through closed curtains. Avis knew her home like the back of her hand and she guided you slowly to the staircase, walking upstairs with her hand in yours.

She stopped in the middle of it though when she felt your hands around her waist. She trusted you to not let her fall as she let her weight press against your chest, your head in the crook of her neck. She smelled delicious and you could not help it, you run your tongue the length of her neck up until you meet her ear, kissing the spot behind, your teeth gracing her earlobe. With one hand on the railing for support the other went to the back of your head feeling the curls and pins under her palm, a quiet moan echoing in the dark room as you pulled gently on her ear. She tasted divine, that saltiness that was so her mixing with the champagne from your drink. Her eyes were closed taking in every sensation that you were giving her as your hands teased her breasts through the silk, finger on the hem of the neckline. The way every single peck and caress set her alight was beyond her comprehension, her heartbeats a little bit elevated against her ribcage, her knickers getting wetter by the minute, but there was no rush, she could take far more than what you were giving her; she wanted to burn in your arms. She moved her head to the side, scratching her nails on your scalp, to grant you a better access, a gasp falling from her lips when she felt you tongue licking down her neck and the junction with the shoulder, following the same path back up until your lips curled and sucked on her pulse point.

Her hips buckled to meet yours, her round firm ass pressed against your pelvis, earning a grunt that became muffled by her skin. As much as you were both loving this there was a growing need to reach the bedroom, so much to your dismay Avis pulled herself from your grip, not before turning and taking both your hands. Walking backwards was hard but walking up the stairs all while in the dark was ever more difficult and yet Avis pulled it off beautifully, reaching the landing without tripping not even once. Her eyes had never left yours even if among the shadows there was very little chance of her seeing just how dilated your pupils were, how they were burning with a fire that only she could put out.  The door to her bedroom was just there, not more than three feet from you, but it felt as if you had gone without feeling her for far too long and so you pressed her against the wall, claiming her lips in a bruising kiss. You sucked on her lower lip never growing tired of hearing the way her throat vibrated and her body shook ever so slightly as moans travelled through her open mouth for to swallow, chest pressed against chest, your right hand grabbing and pulling her leg upwards, free from her gown. The lacy hem of her stockings was an obstacle for you, that delectable skin of hers hidden underneath but that did not stop you from fingering the clip that kept it in place before grabbing the back of her thigh to grind against her pelvis. Her response was a curse, the fabric of her knickers drenched in between her legs, but you did not let up, watching as her head lulled back against the wall, her entire frame bobbing up and down as you moved.

She wanted you, needed you to fill her up, to touch her and eat her and love her and make her scream so loud she wouldn’t be able to speak for three days, but the movements that you were doing were just not fully cutting it for her, as sublime as they were. This time though she did not have to push you away, you lifted her off the floor, her legs wrapping around your waist as her arms did the same around your neck, giving a surprised yelp. She had not considered that you could be so strong, carrying her through the threshold of her bedroom, your foot closing the door, her lips pecking every inch of skin she could find around your face, avoiding your lips should she make you lose your grip on her. Your brain was telling you to throw her on the bed and take her, no time to remove clothes, but you let your heart guide you on this, gently placing her over the covers, pecking her lips before stepping back. All the air in your lung vanished as you took in the scene before you. The curtains weren’t drawn letting the silvery beams of moonlight bathe the woman before you with its pearly glows, her olive kissed skin seeming like porcelain under its touch, every freckle, wrinkle and beauty mark glowing like beacons that were calling you home. Her dark fiery locks were untamed, dishevelled from where you had threaded your fingers, framing her as they cascaded over her shoulders and down her back, her lips swollen and so very enticing even without her signature lipstick. That glamorous gown she was wearing had moved slightly around her body, glowing like pure platinum as the top of a black corselette peeked from under the neckline, her breasts practically spilling, bouncing with her rapid breaths. Her body, propped up on her elbows, was spread before you since the skirt of her dress had fallen to the sides, leaving her legs right there for you to feast on and oh Lord, were you going to. But there was another idea in your head that you wanted to do for her before you could satisfy your own needs.

In a slow twirl your back was presented to her, a hand grabbing onto the zipper of your dress, painstakingly pulling it down to let your underwear begin to seep through the garment. You could hear Avis’s breaths picking up at the way you swayed your hips to shimmy out of it, feeling the velvet brush your legs as it flowed to the floor. With graceful movements you stepped out of it, bending so that your ass was in perfect view for Avis, turning your head to look at her while picking up the dress from the floor. She groaned at the sight of your body, her mind racing as her mouth turned dry before it began to water, hypnotised by every little movement you made, from bending to standing back up after leaving your dress over the chair of her vanity. Her heart began to race with each step you took towards her, spreading her legs even further to accommodate you, your body bending over hers, face inches from hers. She rose to kiss you, but you were quick and pulled back, a naughty smirk on your lips when your fingers began to trace her jawline, neck, chest and swells of her breasts, your mouth following the same path though your fingers could not help exploring the skin underneath her corselette. She was plump and soft, and you had buried your head in between her tits many times before but could not get enough of them, feeling her stiff peak with your fingertips. Her noises were positively sublime, deep and rambling in her chest before they made their way out of her mouth in quiet gasps. You moved close to her ear, whispering huskily.

-I believe, my dear lady, that you are overdressed.

The fabric was so smooth under your palms, so undoing the knot on the side as well as the button next to her breasts was like slicing butter, pushing the gown open to free her gorgeous body. And God, what a body it was. It was maddening to have her like this right under your lips, tracing every wrinkle and crease her skin made, and you just simply could not get enough. The fireworks of Sunset Boulevard had ended some time ago, but now there was the booming sound again, in the background, lighting up the room with a soft golden glow. It did not stop you from sucking on her now exposed collarbone, scraping the skin hard, a hissing sound reaching your ears, but Avis prevented you from lifting your head by pressing a hand on your neck, her body falling onto the soft covers. A gentle lick of your tongue soothed the sting, sloppy kisses travelling down to her breasts but there wasn’t enough flesh before your eyes, fingers working on the first hook of the corselette. Her breasts bounced to free themselves and yet you did not continue, simply licked the valley in between them. How exquisite were her moans, echoing off the walls with each suck, leaving bruising marks behind that you knew her husband might find out about, but that didn’t stop you, wouldn’t stop you. If he could not appreciate the woman he was married to, you would take on such a task. Perhaps the sight of the marks would help make Avis understand that she didn’t have to settle for less than what she thought she deserved, which was everything.

Her breaths were so rapid that upon arching her back at the hand of your ministrations another hook came undone without anyone touching the garment, her breasts spilling out of the black lace freeing her pinkish nipples that were hard as rocks already. Hmmmm, your favourite appetizer at last had arrived. Kissing the ample left breast, you trailed down towards the stiff pick, taking it hungrily in your mouth, lapping up and down, twirling it around and around and around, basking in the high-pitched moans that Avis made when you scrapped the tip with your teeth, hips bucking upwards into your own pelvis. It drew out a groan from you, her pubic bone having brushed expertly, but without her actually knowing, against your clit. She knew the effects she had on you, but she had not expected such a reaction from simply sucking her tits, a naughty smirk on her lips as her eyes ogled your mouth with her nipple deep inside it. There was a whine in the air when you popped it out of your mouth, but how could you not give her right breast the same treatment when it was looking at you so readily. Deliciously it fitted in your mouth as if it was meant to be there, sucking so hard you were making Avis scream in hurried pants, her nails digging onto your scalp.

One hand kept your weight off her body but that didn’t mean you could not do several other things with the other, your nails leaving red trails over her inner thigh, massaging the soft flesh to sooth it before repeating the motion. Her legs twitched, trying to close around your frame out of seer instinct, a whimper slipping from her parted lips. It was tempting to tease her until she could not take it anymore, but tonight the plan wasn’t to see up until where the boundaries would collapse, it was to love her and care for her. Your index finger brushed over the lace of her knickers, Avis’s lower lip in between her teeth, feeling not just how wet she was; her underwear was absolutely ruined and drenched and you only wished to take it off and have your main course. It was a herculean effort to pull back, her nipple being released from your mouth in a quiet pop, but she was still quite overdressed in your most humble opinion. On your knees now, you took off her shoes, putting them on the side, massaging the tension on her arches and her ankles, settling on her left leg while carrying on with her calf, the back of her knee and then her thigh. Expert finger undid the clip pushing it out of the way, the silk stocking coming off her leg with your teeth, Avis’s eyes simply blown wide at the sight, the exact same actions taking place on her right leg instants after. Instead of climbing back on top of her though you placed her legs over your shoulders taking your sweet time to kiss trails from her ankles up to her inner thighs, back down and then back up again. She was going to go insane, of that she was certain, every single one of your kisses leaving fire on her skin, but she just could not stop you, she needed every ounce of attention you were giving her, your fingers digging over her thighs as you inched closer and closer to her centre. Just when your kisses had reached the side of her knickers did you move to her other side, sucking and biting hard, drawing out moans and whimpers all while Avis still laid on her back, her hands holding onto the bed covers. Without warning and without care you gave her one strong long lick over the lace, her salty juices on your tongue making you groan against her.

-Fuck!

Her hips buckled against your face trying desperately to get more friction, anything. You knew she needed you, but you were not going to take her like this, you wanted her to have the connection of skin to skin; raising from your knees you bent back over her body. Your hands finished unhooking the corselette, pulling it from under her and throwing it across the room. There were a few red marks left from the garment over her abdomen, and you were sure they probably bothered her, so after kissing her neck, sucking hard on her pulse point, you went all the way down to her sternum and even further, licking each red line making sure to peck the skin once you were contented with the way your saliva glistened under the moonlight, your fingers following the paths of her stretch marks with such a gentle touch you were raising goosebumps over her skin. They trailed down until your fingertips came in contact with the waistband of her knickers, removing them inch by inch all the way down her legs until she was utterly naked before you. The platinum beams that burst through the windows wrapped around her body, enticing, the fire that was burning within you mixing with the absolute adoration you felt for Avis. Her breasts were perky, rising and falling rapidly, her eyes staring hungrily at you. It just wasn’t fair, she thought, she was like a renaissance painting, naked before you with her hair down, dripping for you, and yet you were just standing there, hidden from her eyes. She had to do something about it.

With cat like grace Avis pulled herself off the bed, walking barefoot until she was right in front of you. Her hands ached to be rough, to play with you until you broke in between her fingers and then put you back together, but your eyes were looking at her with such a caring loving glow that she could not bring herself to do it. She put her hands on your shoulder and turned you until your back was pressed against her front, both your figures reflected on a tall mirror that you had not noticed before. Had she got it so she could dress herself for you? She did not give you time to think, her fingers trailing down from your shoulders over to your breasts, squeezing and kneading the flesh under your own corselette. She was delighted that you had dressed like that, not that seeing you in those see-through brassieres was something she would ever complain about, but there was just something so utterly erotic about this outfit that drove her wild. One hook came off, your breasts one step closer to freedom, her lips kissing softly the skin of your shoulder, one hand travelling underneath the black lace that cupped your breasts, the other one pulling on your hair until she had the access to you neck she desired. Your sweet skin was delicious under her tongue, and the bruises that had painted your skin not that long ago were nowhere to be found, so in that spot she decided she had to make sure those marks that had painted your entire body returned. Her teeth bit down on your neck, a yelp mixing with a moan reverberating inside the room, her tongue southing the sting before moving a little bit further down to do the same. The hand that was under you corselette was kneading on your left breast, her thumb brushing on your perky nipple. She was a pro, you knew, so it wasn’t a surprise when she pulled her hand out and with only two fingers did she undo a second hook. The garment was becoming loser around your frame, slipping down a bit more until your breasts were free, Avis’s eyes eyeing them with such desire that your utterly flooding underwear welcomed a brand-new wave of arousal.

-My very good girl is the one overdressed now, don’t you think?

You nodded at her words, her index finger following the line of your cheek down to your neck until she was painting lazy patterns over your left breast, her tongue licking the shell of your ear, biting and pulling on your earlobe. Her thumb passed over your nipple, the hand on your hair letting go to play with your right breast, the motions so tempting, so sultry that made your hips press against her pelvis just like Avis had done with you on the staircase. She played and twirled your nipples in between her fingers, pinching hard, your hands grabbing her naked hips to steady your legs, your throat slightly raw from how she was making you moan. Soon she grew restless of her own actions, unclasping each hook slowly to let your creamy skin come to light until it laid open in her hands. She could not let her eyes stop looking at every single detail of your skin, her hot breath drawing goosebumps, your stiff nipples getting even harder. The corselette fell to the floor, the weight of it pulling your stocking down with it, leaving you with all the fabric bunched up around your ankles. You were going to bend to remove them when a hand right in between your breasts stopped you, pressed you naked back against her naked chest feeling every inch of her ample tits. It was Avis who kneeled this time, the hand that had stopped you before resting right above your knickers now, her legs slightly open, lifting your leg and removing your shoe, pushing it aside, pulling the nylon stocking off.

She was spread for you to see in the mirror, those pink folds glistening in the gentle light of the moon, your arousal through the roof wishing you were already in between her legs. She was not done though; she lifted your other leg removing the stiletto and pulling the stocking off. The offending bundle of garments was thrown across the room, forgotten already as her eyes went for the next step. Her fingers were running up and down your thighs at a teasing pace, kissing the back of your legs, moving over your hamstring until her lips made contact with the skin of your ass, biting down, sucking hard. A gasp left your lips, the feeling utterly salacious and carnal, her fingers kneading the flesh, treading underneath the fabric of your underwear. No one except Avis had ever played with your ass before, this was her thing the same way that playing with her tits was yours. They stopped their motion after a moment, following the shape of your hips until the met at your pubic bone, grabbing and yanking your knickers down your legs. They rested around your knees, her hands busy parting your legs so she could feel just how much you really wanted her, humming in approval when her fingers touched your folds, coating them with your juices. The underwear fell on its own, pooling at your feet as Avis rose to look at you through the mirror, eyes following her hand, watching her lick her fingers clean, groaning at your salty essence.

Turning around to face her you stopped her movement, pulling her hand out of her mouth and taking it inside yours instead. She had not cleaned herself completely yet, the state of her saliva and your arousal the perfect mix around her fingers, tongue twirling and sucking. Fuck being gentle, fuck waiting. You pulled her fingers out with a pop and yanked her arm towards you to capture her mouth once again, your hand on her bare ass cheek kneading and spanking the bouncy flesh, her leg wrapping around your thigh and calf. Kissing her was always an experience but doing it fully naked was just beyond arousing, your need to bite and lick and suck making you draw a little bit of blood from her lower lip, the metallic taste intoxicating, your hands grabbing her other ass fully and lifting her in the air, the bruising kiss never breaking, her hands on the back of your head pulling hairpins out and letting them fall on the floor. You would worry about picking them up in the morning.

You placed her back on the bed, crawling on top of the covers but she broke from your embrace to pull them off the mattress and onto the floor, leaving the Egyptian cotton bedsheets free for her to lay upon. Her hair was fanned out on her pillow as her eyes raked over your body, sitting on your knees, waiting, like the good girl you were. There was a painting that came to mind as you took her in, watching her move one hand to rest above her head, fingers brushing the headboard while the other motioned for you to crawl over to her, a beautiful masterpiece from the 1800s that had transcended time into the 1940s, and space, to lay on this bed. You could not recall where it was displayed, but at the end of the day it was just that, a work on a canvas that you could not touch. The woman before you was real though, solid and positively divine with the way each curve of her soft flesh seemed to have been carved by the hands of angels, her eyes the doors to the Heavens, her lips the gates to Hell. There was no corner of her body that you would not paint, no freckle that you would not kiss and if her body was a forest, you would gladly get lost in it for all eternity. Avis looked like a Venus, like a goddess that you would pray to every day and night and she deserved to be painted and displayed just as much as those priceless works of art, even if there was a part of you that only wanted to keep her to yourself, like a secret that no one could see except for you, every spot in her body only for you to kiss and taste, her sounds only for you to hear. You crawled on top of her, taking her hand to kiss her finger before placing it above her head next to the other, lowering your mouth to peck her gently. The road that your lips travelled was well known to you, every curve and hill memorised; her collarbone, the hollow of her neck, her maddening breasts that you could not help but kiss one more time, and in between every stretch mark in her abdomen and upper thighs.

Her legs parted, granting you access to that part of her body that you desired the most, bending until your chest was practically resting over the mattress, ass up in the air, kissing and licking the soft skin of her inner thighs. There were still a few remnants of the bruises you had inflicted upon her that first night, but there was still plenty of untouched flesh for you to paint. She moaned when she felt you suck, knowing that in the morning her body could be covered in hickeys, not that she cared, not anymore, her back arching off the bed a little, hips moving almost as if they were trying to tempt you. She needed to be patient, just for a bit longer you thought, still giving your full attention to the bruise that was already forming, licking to sooth it before turning to her other thigh, sucking and biting, a hiss mixing with her loud moans. She was always so very vocal, which you adored, and when you came face to face with her dripping folds you couldn’t help but smile. Dinner was served. You preferred something sweet as dessert, but the saltiness of Avis’s juices was the perfect cherry on top of a wonderful night, your tongue lapping the whole length of her cunt with one long swipe. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head at the feeling of your mouth on her, hips moving against your face.

-God, fuck, Y/N.

The moans that were breaking from her parted lips filled your head, loud and sensual, because how could Avis make any sound that wasn’t absolutely indecent and salacious, your own juices coating the top of your inner thighs. Your nose brushed gently against her clit, a hand shooting to keep you in place as a scream slid out her throat, her nails digging into your scalp, but your movement never stopped, her pleasure building higher and higher. She had had your tongue on her before, and had adored every second of it, but the things you were doing to her this time, the soft licks, nudging her swollen bud prolonging it all, driving her insane with such a caring touch, oh God, it was something else. Every touch sent her a message that she mattered to you, that her pleasure was your main goal, to see her unravelling before your eyes, to drink in her relaxed and satisfied body as if she could be the last thing your eyes ever saw. It made the way your tongue moved a thousand times more powerful, the coil in her lower abdomen burning bright, threatening to set her on fire. With one hand you opened up her folds to grant your tongue access to her entrance, darting in and out slowly at first. The grip on your hair never lessened and the way her hips were moving told you that she needed more, so you gave it to her without a second thought taking her clit in your mouth, sucking so hard that her back arched off the bed, the hand that had been resting and toying with the fabric of her pillowcase, holding hard onto the headboard.

You had never wished you had been born with a cock before, but the sight of her as you gave her one long lick before sitting back on your knees, her dark eyes watching you confused wondering why you had stopped, made you long for one to pound deep into her, to fill her up and feel every inch of her insides around you, warm and velvety. The best you could do was to move your fingers up and down, her head falling back over her pillow, coating them in her juices before plunging them in. She screamed at the feeling of her cunt stretching to accommodate you as you travelled in kisses back up her body, taking her nipples in your mouth. They were your weakness, an imperious need to always play with them forcing you to twirl them and suck hard. Slowly you pulled your hand back giving her a moment before pushing back in, hard, curling to touch that sweet spot with your fingertips, another scream escaping her open mouth, your lips kissing the skin under her ribcage. The taste of her skin along with that of her juices was intoxicating, driving you to move your hand faster and harder against her as your mouth trailed and bit at her collarbones and her neck finally reaching her lips, drawing her into a deep kiss that made Avis’s already fuzzy head grow dizzy. There were so many sensations that she just couldn’t focus, both her legs bending over your hips, the heels of her feet digging onto your lower back. In this new position you could push your hand harder into her by using the power of your pelvis, thrusting once to see if it was any good.

-FUCK! YES! YES!

If it had been Summer the entire neighbourhood would have been able to hear her screams, but with the windows closed her words and sounds were for your ears only. Your hips thrust against your hand once more, her hips moving downwards to meet you, her head thrown back against the pillow as a thin layer of sweat begun to cover her body, your greedy tongue licking if off the side of her neck before biting and sucking hard, leaving a most wonderous hickey right where everyone would be able to see, but Avis was too lost to notice. With each movement of your hips her body bobbed up and down on the mattress, her gorgeous and ample tits swaying with the sinful motions, her moans higher and higher in pitch as she felt her orgasm building, nearly reaching the delicious peak she desired. There was no warning, just you adding another finger, practically slamming your hips against her pelvis, the rhythm you had previously had a bit more erratic, losing yourself in the way she was screaming in your ear, clenching around your fingers so hard, her skin so delicious in your mouth. Your hand would be useless for a day or two with the way you were pushing it knuckle deep inside her, slamming it against her pubic bone, but it was a prize you were willing to pay. With your thumb you circled her clit, playing a game of pressure that could send her over the edge any minute and yet it seemed as if there was something preventing her from doing so. Your mouth kissed behind her ear, licking its shell before you whispered.

-Come for me Avis, see the stars that you begged me to show you.

A shiver run all over her body, like a wave, before the coil in her lower abdomen exploded, an intense white fire spreading through every limb, her back arching of the bed as your name left her lips in a loud scream, her legs trembling and shaking all while the grip on your hair pulled painfully and the heels of her feet dug against your lower back. But there was no real pain, nothing truly hurt, her pleasure the only thing that mattered to you as her hips slammed onto yours, your hand in between them, as she rode out her orgasm. Her vision was blurred, white stars dancing through them, her eyes rolling back with each wave and twitch that coursed through her spasming walls.

-Y/N! YES! YES! YES! GOD, I LOVE YOU!  

Every cell in your body froze for an instant, her body collapsing on the mattress her chest rising and falling in hurried loud pants, arms like jelly as they let go of your hair and the headboard, her legs unwrapping from around your back, though you did not move, hands caressing the skin of her thighs to bring her gently down. Part of you wanted those words to be real, to believe her even if she had spoken them in the throws of passion, but the other half believed they were just that, words, no real meaning behind them, a turmoil of confused thoughts rushing through your mind. Until her eyes opened behind heavy lids and everything turned quiet. Her eyes were so very deep and beautiful, expressing everything so clearly that to you there was no doubt that she had meant it. Her shaky hand caressed your cheek, your body having not moved from being on top of hers, that bright smile shinning all over the room but right now only for your eyes to see. In that sweet afterglow that always left her so very relaxed, so raw with her emotions and realizations, did she allow herself to acknowledge what she felt because this had been the last step she had needed to see that what you two had went beyond mere care and lust. Her heart had been alone in a dark room for years but then you came, with an entire array of Christmas lights and chandeliers and filled it all with light, your heart sitting beside hers, never letting it go from your embrace. This is what love was supposed to feel like, and she would never ever let it slip through her fingers. She brought you down for a kiss, a gentle pressing of lips, and even if it was the simplest one you two had shared, it was the best of them. Upon parting you laid beside her, your head sharing her big pillow.

-Avis.

-Don’t overthink it Y/N. I said what I said, and you know me; I don’t take words back.

-But there’s so much you don’t know about me.

-I don’t care. – in between her thumb and index finger she twirled and played with a lock of your hair, her gaze never parting from yours. They were filled with love, shinning like never before, making you lose yourself in their depth, her warmth wrapping around you like a blanket. It made your chest burst with happiness. -You could be a Russian spy, and I would still love you. You make me feel like a human being and trust me, that’s fucking fantastic; you give my life a purpose, a brand-new perspective. Life is so full of possibilities now that you are here, with me, so many adventures that had never crossed my mind before. All the money, jewels and mink coats that I own could never compare to you making me feel like I’m someone, like I matter.

-It’s so easy to be around you, to care.

-Even though I’m a very faulted woman?

-Everyone is, you just know how to cope with it. You are temperamental but also passionate, you don’t apologise but you make it up to people, you have sat in the back letting others take your spotlight, and it doesn’t seem fair, Avis. I want to give you that, I want you to be up on stage and reclaim it; let everyone adore you. The world is yours and you must walk like you own it.

-I could have sworn I already did that. – her lips pecked your cheeks and jaw bit never pushed further than that, she knew you both needed to talk this out. You felt her teasing smile against your skin.

-Indeed, but what I mean is that you must stop letting Ace treat you like this. Break free from him and his lies and be yourself and if he doesn’t like it, he can go and fuck himself. You have a beautiful soul; you can’t let him crush it and turn you into a bitter woman.      

-I wanted him to love me, to care for Claire, but its as if I’m just an addition to his life, like an object. We’ve been through this shit so many times, but he never changes. – the hurt run deep, her eyes glancing down to your necklace that she had not removed, toying with the metal chain to keep her eyes from locking with yours. That man had broken her so much and so many times, and you could see why she would practically throw herself at the first person that showed her a bit of love and affection. She was emotionally starved. - I had spent so long wanting to be his wife so when I realised that I wasn’t wanted and that I never will be, my eyes finally opened, and I saw the truth. I had confused my wishes, my dreams, for the real thing and seeing that… - she had to stop for a moment, tears threatening to fall, her words choking her up with the overwhelming feelings of shame and sadness. You hated seeing her like this, hiding herself and her pain from you, so your finger moved under her chin forcing her to look up, watching as those crystal drops ran down her cheeks and towards the tip of her nose. Her voice wavered but she still carried on needing to let it all out. - that I had been tricked by life, well, it hurt. It took time to see that this marriage was never going to work, we don’t care enough about each other to bother fixing it. Should you fix something that has been broken since day one?

-No, you shouldn’t. You must let it wither and die, Avis, as much as it may hurt at first. You don’t need him. I will be your husband, your wife, your partner, your friend, your therapist and your doctor. I will hold you and wipe your tears, - your thumbs slid over her cheeks capturing the drops, kissing the soft, warm flesh and removing the saltiness off her nose. The grip she had on your forearms now was bruising, like she was grounding herself on your skin. - laugh at your jokes and tell you everyday of my life that there is not a soul in this world, in this universe, that… I love more than yours.

-You… love me? – her voice held a note of doubt, as if she had heard those words before dressed in deceit, but there was such a deep hope in those glistening eyes that elated you, your face inches from hers, foreheads touching.

-Since the very first time I saw you. All that we’ve shared has only made my feelings stronger, and I’m sure of them. Learning about you, finding out all the little things that no one has bothered to listen to, like you not liking mustard, or that you love going on walks down at the beach when the sun has already set, when the night hides you from prying eyes and you can let your mask fall, simply brings me joy. You are such a wonderful woman, and you have lived things that I could have never even imagined, and I want to know it all. Every single second of your life.

-Please Y/N, tell me what you promised me. What’s the meaning?

-That’s simple. You. – her breath hitched in her lungs, the biggest most sincere smile painting her lips as a brand-new batch of tears fell down her cheeks. This time you let them fall as they held a completely different air around them, a voice in the back of your mind telling you that you had to let Avis guide you on this. With your left hand you pushed her hair back, caressing her cheek with your fingers while rubbing gently on her jaw with your thumb. -People have come and gone in my life and I have learnt good and bad things from them, but they all shared the same trait. They took and took and took so when I was ready to receive, they would go. You take Avis, but you also give so much in return. I have never met anyone who could care this much, who could give like this. It doesn’t matter if it’s a car, or flowers, the things that mean the most to me are the ones that no one would consider, like a bag of food with a note reminding me to eat or you taking the time to talk with Giuseppe and his family. You listen when I speak and remember the tiny little details that no one had bothered with before, like your new shampoo that smells like home. That’s the meaning of happy, simply you.

You tasted the salt of her tears as she pressed her lips to yours, her body pushing you to your back over the cotton bedsheets. With Avis now on top you could stare unabashedly up at her wonderous body, and yet your eyes could only look at hers, pupils blow wide again, lust overtaking all the sadness she had felt, but never the love and joy you had caused to bloom in her chest. The conversation was over, the time for words had passed, but she still bent until her mouth was resting over yours, brushing, tempting, whispering one final question.

-What do you want Y/N?

-Make love to me, Avis.

She could most certainly fulfil such a lovely request, her lips pressing, lingering over yours, the kiss deepening after a few moments of her simply pecking, her legs straddling you with your hands on her hips painting lazy patterns. Biting down on your lower lip she was granted access, her tongue tracing your teeth, sucking and pulling, battling your tongue, earning a groan of pleasure from deep within your throat. Her kisses went down your chin towards your neck. She already knew all the sweet spots that drove you crazy, licking, gracing the soft skin with her teeth until she left you trembling and whimpering, moving on to your pulse point. She was a pro, sucking down hard until there was a bruise identical to the one you had given her, her tongue lapping over the mark to soothe it, although there was a throb in between your legs that she could not soothe, not yet. What a wonderful journey she was taking down your body, her sloppy kisses now in the valley of your breasts, her hands kneading at the plump flesh. You gasped at the feeling, your hips buckling lightly under the weight of her pelvis, Avis groaning when you touched her still sensitive cunt, wet once more. The way her hands played and teased your breasts was maddening, thumbs brushing your stiff nipples, her mouth playing with the sensitive skin around them before finally popping one of them in her mouth. The sigh that you gave quickly turned into moans as she twirled it and sucked, screaming in surprise when she bit down, your back arching, hands holding onto her hips harder all while pressing her down onto you, aching.

Her attention moved to your other nipple, brushing it with her thumb before taking it in her mouth, twirling and biting. The way she took you and played with you was just divine, her fiery lock brushing and tickling, enhancing the thousand emotions and sensations that were overtaking your body, but she still did not stop, although her mouth was now kissing down your abdomen, licking every little stretch mark that you possessed. When she had first seen her own, years ago, she had thought no one would ever want to see her naked ever again, but your body was beautiful, a work of art, and it was also painted with them, and you never recoiled from hers, only made her feel good about them. How could she ever think that they were not sexy when you had them, and she was crazy about you? Her body had moved lower on the bed, your legs spreading to let her sit in between them, her hands rubbing circles on your hip bone as her kisses trailed lower and lower until your pubic bone was under her lips. You were not one to push or beg, you had a certain level of patience, one of the traits she loved most about you as she was an explosive force of nature, so she knew you were enjoying it how much she was making you wait even if she could feel how hot your skin was under her palms.

Her fingers played and walked all the way from your upper thigh to the ankle of your left leg, her hand wrapping around it and lifting, her lips kissing the arch of your foot, pecking the skin of your calf and sucking behind your knee, placing your leg over her shoulder. Her hot breath ghosted over your inner thigh raising goosebumps, making you whimper and close your eyes when her teeth nibbled and kissed up until the joint in between your cunt and leg, your breath hitched in your lungs. She gave you a gentle kiss over your dripping folds, a reward of sorts or perhaps a gentle torture, you were unsure, before moving to your right leg, placing it over her shoulder once she had kissed behind your knee. It was a wonderful contrast how she could taste your sweet skin and the salty tears she had just cried, the happiest tears she had ever shed in her life. She would happily stay like this forever with you in her bed, being loved, receiving every ounce of what she could give, just like she wanted, like you needed. Her kisses on your inner thigh were sweet and gentle, a far cry from the roughness she had showed you that first night, her lips inches from your centre, her breathing tickling you, cooling the juices that were coating your folds. The anticipation was staggering, your breath shaky, your hands holding onto the bedsheets on either side of you for dear life until finally her mouth made contact, and your eyes rolled back.

Her tongue was magical, moving up and down slowly, tasting, drinking in the sweetness of you while her hands pressed against your hips gently to keep you in place. The moans that were filling up the room were loud, great indication for Avis that she was doing perfectly in between your legs, taking one of your folds and sucking hard. Stars were not that far from your vision if she carried on like that, her movements faster now, her fingers accompanying her mouth as she opened you up to her, pushing one finger inside you as her lips wrapped around your clit, twirling it, sending jolts of pleasure all throughout your body. You really did not know how much you could take; you were so worked up that anything she did made your head roll back and your body arch and buckle against her face, but she still pushed your limits a little by adding a second finger, pumping in and out as fast as she could, curling her fingers. When your walls began to clench hard around her, your moans turning to incoherent screams muffled by the pillow as you thrashed your head from side to side, her licks became more applied, harder and more focused around your swollen bud, adding a third finger that stretched you up so divinely that upon feeling her thrust deep inside you hitting that spot, her lips sucking, teeth scraping you became quiet.

Everything was numb and then explosive, white fire and electricity through every limb, hips buckling erratically against Avis’s face. Your body was shaking and trembling, screaming her name until your throat became raw, nearly suffocating her as your thighs closed up around her. You rode your orgasm hard, so hard that Avis nearly had the temptation of carrying on until you were coming around her fingers a second time but decided against it, after all, the night was young. There was plenty of time for her to take you again and again until you became one with her. Your juices coated her face and hand as her pace slowed, her tongue taking it all while being careful not to touch your overstimulated clit. After a few moments you collapsed underneath her, legs releasing her and allowing her to take a deep breath, but she was not mad, she kissed your knees, her hands rubbing soothing circles on the skin of your hip bone as you came down. She wanted to check that you were okay, crawling up your body, your breasts bouncing as your body panted trying to return to a semblance of normality, her lips pecking the line of your jaw and cheeks. Still with your eyes closed you smiled and although you could not see her you were sure she was smiling as well. You hadn’t realised you were still grabbing the bedsheets, releasing them, your hands slightly numb from the strength with which you had been holding onto them, but you still brought them to the back of her neck, lazily playing with her hair.

-You are going to be hoarse tomorrow, darling.

-Hmmmm, words are overrated.

-Not after what you just told me. I think those ones are the most precious ones I will ever hear. – the way her voice laced with care and honesty made you open your eyes, her face a foot above yours, her hair framing her face just beautifully, waves tussled and dishevelled and sightly matted. – I could spend all night hearing you talk about all the things that you love about me, but I would love it even more if I could hear everything about you.

-I would like that. Over dessert?

-I thought I was your dessert. Was I not sweet enough on your tongue?

-Oh, Avis, you were delicious. – you both chuckled quietly before meeting your lips for a gentle loving kiss, her arms snaking around your neck as she dropped on her side moving you so you were still face to face. – But Teresa did give you a package

-Shit, I left in the car! I had other things in my mind.

She pecked your lips before stepping off the bed. God, she was gorgeous. Every curve was just utter temptation under the moonlight, but much to your dismay she covered them with a pink feathered robe, making her way to the door and telling you that she would be back in a minute, leaving it ajar. Your body was still tingling, and you basked in the wonderful feeling for a bit before sitting in bed observing how her dress was bunched up on the floor in between the covers, her underwear everywhere while yours rested a few feet from the full-size mirror. One of these days you would take her while standing in front of it, watch her face contort in pleasure, meeting her eyes through the reflection. You were shaken from your thoughts when Avis returned with the brown package in her hands, closing the door and climbing back on top of the mattress. Her hands were busy undoing the string, yours undoing the knot of her robe, she was far too overdress for all the things you had planned for her, placing tender kisses on her neck and shoulders as you slipped the garment off her body and onto the floor. Avis had stilled her movements, her fingers resting over the cardboard until she felt your hands wrap around her waist, pressing her back against you, finally letting her pull the top open.

-Oh, tiramisu!

-Just like Teresa to give you her favourite dessert. Uh, she likes you, she’s even given us cutlery. – your hand picked up the metal spoon, slicing through the mascarpone and biscuits before lifting it to Avis’s face. – Here, taste the most delicious thing in the planet. - She took it greedily, wrapping her lips around the scoop, lulling her head back slightly, her ear resting against your cheek, moaning loudly as she chewed.

-My God, this is marvellous. I’m going to have to hire her to cater future parties.

-Oh yeah? Am I going to have to worry about you trying to seduce her?

-It would only be for the food dear, only for the food. I would never change you for anyone, and I’ve seen gorgeous actress and actors. None of them hold a candle to you.

-Good, because I would be very upset since… - you pushed her face to the side with your fingers on her chin to meet your eyes, your lips hovering over hers. – I very much love you.

-What? I’m afraid I’m a bit hard of hearing, could you repeat it?

-I… love… you – each word was emphasized by a kiss, the remnants of coffee and mascarpone mixing with her own essence deliciously.

-Again.

-I love you.

-Again.

-Avis, I love you.

Her body turned completely, chest pressed against chest, slipping easily in your arms to kiss you properly, the dessert forgotten at the foot of the bed as she pushed you back over the mattress.