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sombreboy · 4 years ago

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Wedding night⇢kth x jjk

⇢18+ ⇢pairing: Taehyung x Jungkook ⇢genre: Smut, fluff, mxm ⇢word count: 12.7k ⇢warnings: profanity which is mostly Tae cursing like a sailor, dirtytalk, drinking, dom!kth, sub!jjk, koo sucks tae off in a taxi lmao, slight cockwarming in koo's little throat?, more oral cuz Koo is cockhungry as hell, DADDY KINK, Tae eats Koo's ass like a fuckin champ, light choking ig but its with luv, anal (as always, this is fictional, use lube- koo loves when tae destroys his ass)

A/N: Serves as an ‘after story’ within the Love Maze series AU, however can also be read on it’s own.

“Damn, Tae.” Hoseok whistled, messing with the younger’s formal, silk bow tie whilst Taehyung examined his reflection through the mirror; set out to dismiss his hyung’s side comments, no matter how uplifting.

He was nervous— as he was expected to be. It was Taehyung’s wedding day, and although he’d been dying of excitement days prior, now that he stood in his assigned dressing room; his heart was racing . Of course he was thrilled to be marrying Jungkook--he wouldn’t have proposed to the man if he wasn’t 100% sure. But.. still . It was an important milestone in their life--Taehyung wanted it to be perfect.

“Jungkook’s jaw is going to hit the floor!” Jin’s elated voice joined in from his spot on the couch, where he sipped on a martini; legs crossed as if he was relaxing by the beach, living his best life.

“I can just imagine the look on his face.” Namjoon playfully squeezed Tae’s tense shoulders, grinning at the anxious man through the full-length mirror. Taehyung simply shrugged him off, grimacing as if Joon’s touch stung. “Hyungs.. can you be quiet? I’m trying to think.”

Namjoon stepped away from Tae, hands raised in surrender. “Sorry, sorry. I just can’t believe it— that you guys are getting married, that is.”

At that, an awkward smile tugged at Taehyung’s lips. He couldn’t believe it either; it felt like a dream. Tae didn’t regret getting down on one knee at all, he wanted Jungkook for the rest of his life. Some might think they’d been taking it too fast— or are in a hurry to secure their future; but this was what felt right to the both of them. They’d been dating for five years now, making Taehyung twenty-three; a young adult whose life was only beginning— supposedly. But that was the furthest thing from the truth. No matter how cheesy it sounded, Tae’s life began when he met Kook, his husband-to-be. He wanted to be married to the guy, to be able to call him his husband. They’d even started looking into adoption agencies, knowing the process could take up to a year’s time. Fuck what people thought of their decisions, they were theirs to assume the consequences of.

“Shit, I just hope it all goes well..”

“It will, Tae. This day will go down in the book of your lives.” Namjoon reassured.

Jin snickered, hiccuping, “You’re so poetic, Joon. Trust me, this day is going to slap.”

Meanwhile in Jungkook’s dressing room..

“You nervous? Need a cig?” One of Jungkook’s coworkers, Jia, offered; already pulling out a pack of cigarettes from her purse.

“Uhm.. I don’t think that’s a good idea..” Jisoo frowned, eyeing the other woman with uncertainty. “Just take deep breaths if you’re nervous, Jungkookie.”

“Ooor you could just smoke one.”

“For the last time—“

“You girls are so different, oh my fucking god.” Yoongi nonchalantly grumbled, arms crossed over his chest. Jia rolled her eyes, tucking the cigarettes back to where she found them.

“You guys are being annoying,” Jimin sighed, setting aside his beer before waltzing closer to Jungkook, studying the younger’s appearance with a pleased look on his face.

“Tae’s going to love you. You look good!”

''No smoking, I'm literally about to kiss Taehyung in front of everyone.'' Jungkook murmured, eyes hyper fixated on himself in the mirror. Honestly, a cigarette, or ten would be exactly what he needed right about fucking now. He was so nervous, his breathing was shallow-- his hands trembling. He took a good look at himself... He's always looked the same in his own eyes, ever unchanging. But today was different. Jungkook was different. Suddenly, he could see all the changes he's made since high school-- all the changes he'd been through with, and without Taehyung. The ever growing muscles finally at their peak, the suit flattering to his shape from his widened shoulders to his slim waist. His tattoos snaking out of the sleeve to his hands and by his neck. And his always way-too-long hair that he refuses to keep too short only because Taehyung had once said 'I like it long.'.. Now, that must've been years ago, but it stuck with the younger.

"I really look good?" Jungkook glanced at his friends through the mirror.

“Yes!” They all answered in unison— “Decent.”

“Yoongi, shush!” Jisoo playfully pushed the newly-dyed blonde’s shoulder, assuring Jungkook of how handsome he looked.

“Kidding, kid. You look okay.” Yoongi shrugged, successfully dodging Jimin’s incoming slap to his chest.

“Don’t pretend like I didn’t catch you trying to hold back your tears moments before, Min.” Jia smirked, crossing her tattooed arms over her chest; smile widening at the man’s taken-aback reaction.

“Wasn’t crying. You don’t even know me, anyways.” Yoongi huffed, now more hyper aware of his feelings, hence he snapped his head in the opposite direction of his peers.

“Never said you were crying, now did I?”

“Yo, both of you, stop bickering. If you didn’t hate each other so much, I’d think you’re secretly in love with one another.” Jimin didn’t bother looking at the pair, instead focusing his attention on the man of the night— well, one of the men. He was extremely happy for them; they deserved their happy ending after all the shit they went through. And it was a lot..

“You look hot, spicy.” Knowing it’d tickle Kook’s amusement, Jimin giggled whilst he verbally teased him, hoping to ease his mind even for a bit.

“Damn, Yoongi’s crying might rub off on me.”

“I wasn’t crying for fucks sake!”

Taehyung was left alone for some time; left to gather his thoughts once the suit was properly fitted, black hair slicked back— a couple strands falling down to his eyes. Still, he felt far from put together.. Reaching for his phone, Tae tapped on Jungkook’s profile, thumbs moving before he could think of the right words to say.

To: Kook Hey ;)) I know it’s bad luck or whatever to see each other before the ceremony, so I settled for texting I’m a little nervous, I’ve had to pee like 10 times now But fuck I’m so eager to make you my husband, bet you look gorgeous as always

Jungkooks scrunched smile and giggle grew, his friends surely knew how to hype him up; even though the nervosity was at its peak. "Thanks guys." He reached for his phone on the table as soon as it chimed, tucking his fringe behind his ear as he tapped the message. It didn't matter how long the men had been together, Tae always put a dumb grin on Kooks face with his interesting mashup of rambles and emojis. He quickly tapped back on the screen, he'd become a pretty good texter these days compared to his younger days.

To: TaeTae I'm also nervous T_T the girls (and Jimin) have been hyping me up for the past twenty minutes...I almost considered smoking a pack but I wanted to taste good lol. x) And I'm pretty sure Yoongi cried! feel so awkward in a suit, but they say I look, and I quote, "spicy" :ooo Can't wait to see you though, I can't imagine how fucking pretty you'll look in a suit.. I'll see you soon ^^ <3

Jungkook cringed, this might be the longest text he's ever sent in his entire life. But it was fun, and hopefully it would help ease the elders' nerves.

"Alright, it's time!" Jimin clapped his hands. "We will head to the audience, you got this Kook!"

Fuck, it was actually happening. They were getting married.

Taehyung comfortably sank back in his spot on the couch, chuckling at Jungkook’s use of emojis; it was fuckin’ cute. His boy was a dork, another reason Tae wanted to marry him.. The younger’s plan unknowingly worked, Taehyung felt more at peace as he typed back his reply; fingers moving quickly as he knew it was almost time to go. Now that he thought about it.. it was a waste, considering Kook probably wouldn’t see it until after the ceremony, but it did calm him down, so Tae said to hell with it.

To: Kook You always taste good tho..love everything you have to offer, you know I’m not picky And fuuuuckkk I bet you’re rocking the suit rn baby, don’t feel awkward

“Tae! Hurry.” Hoseok’s head peeked in from the other side, urging him to wrap it up— whatever had him grinning from ear to ear. Throwing his phone to the side, Taehyung looked at his reflection one last time, messing with Namjoon’s work on his tie. When jogging out of the room, Tae cursed to himself— his speech! “Shit, never mind.” The elder was so stressed out that he hadn’t noticed the slip of paper was tightly held in his hand; it was nerve-wracking. Taehyung was the one supposed to wait at the altar; after having been decided by a silly game of ‘rock, paper, scissors’. The one thing they took their utmost time deciding on was the name, however.

Jeon. Taehyung wanted to take Jungkook’s surname. Something about wanting a fresh, fresh start. His boyfriend was his everything, and his father was nothing compared to Kook. Tae felt as if change was needed, and what better way than to refer to himself as a Jeon? It drew butterflies in his stomach..

“Fuck— sorry, I’m here now.” The elder harshly whispered to the marriage officiant, nearly tripping over a random cord on the way. Of course. Fuck, his mouth was dry. Taehyung’s chest felt heavy with excitement, squeezing tightly onto the piece of paper that had his vows written inside; just waiting to be heard by Jungkook— and everyone else, but those words were meant for the younger, truly. Shit, Tae just wanted to see him..

Jungkook was trembling behind the closed doors, continuously having to be stopped by Jisoo from running his hand through his hair.

"Don't mess your hair up, kookie. We spent hours on taming it!" She chuckled quietly, fixing the tie on his neck. He was a nervous wreck, his anxiety causing his stomach to do somersaults. He wants to throw up.

"I've never been this nervous in my life." Kook bounced on the ball of his foot, taking deep breaths. He was gonna get through this. He wanted this. He just wanted to see Taehyung.

"Shh, it's time. Go get that husband, Kookie!" Jisoo patted his back, grabbing the basket of flowers that she'd share with her daughter, Yuna. She was 5 years old now, and having them as the flower girls was nothing but an obvious choice. The doors slowly opened, music playing and everyone on their seats stood up, turning to look at Jungkook. It was a mix of eyes, all showing their own version of joy, whether it be with tears in their eyes or a large smile. But the only face Jungkook could see was the one staring back at him from the altar.

"Fuck..." Jungkook whispered under his breath, his feet finally moving on their own, eyes tunnel visioned on Taehyung. His heart didn't calm down, instead raced even faster, pounding heavily in his chest. But it wasn't out of nervosity, but of excitement.

“Oh, wow..” Taehyung was whipped— in awe, too. Jungkook mirrored a literal angel sent from above, and the elder couldn’t seem to look away; not for one second. The younger one looked stunning.. “Gorgeous..” Tae’s teeth clamped down on his lower lip, preventing it from trembling due to the emotions that’d taken over his body in the form of shivers. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry..

Taehyung couldn’t believe it, they were only moments away from— “Uncle Tae! I have no more flowers..!” A fit of muffled laughter erupted from the small crowd, causing a flustered Jisoo to attempt to quiet down her daughter, murmuring shh’s.

“But mama I need more flowers!” Taehyung laughed, mouthing to Jisoo that all was well; Yuna was too cute. Tae loved the little girl to pieces. Once she was done throwing her mini tantrum— thanks to Namjoon, who quickly swept Yuna off her little feet; Tae’s big grin gradually died down now that Jungkook’s figure had gotten closer. Instead, he licked over his lips, feeling the warm tears resurface once again.

“Hurry up, I wanna hold your hands..” The needy whisper came out weaker than Taehyung had intended, voice breaking whilst he made grabby-hands towards Jungkook, wanting nothing more than to stand before the love of his life. When both men finally faced one another, the elder had the strong urge to kiss him; but he held back. The time hadn’t come yet..

“Wow.. you look so pretty, baby,” is what he settled for, nervously toying with Kook’s fingers, glassy eyes shrinking the more his smile widened.

Jungkook chewed the inside of his cheek, the only invisible release of his anxious state that he could do at the moment. Taehyung looked fucking otherwordly, it blew his mind that this man... was his. Forever.

''You too.... So handsome.'' He whispered back, doe eyes sparkling from the lights around them, enhanced by the layer of tears glazing over his dark irises. Don't cry, don't cry, don't fucking-- well, fuck, he's crying. Jungkook was always a crybaby. ''Shit...'' Kook didn't even register the warmth trickling down his cheeks until now, blinking rapidly as he looked at the ceiling to prevent the stinging in his eyes. His tattooed hands immediately intertwined with Taehyung's, squeezing to ensure that this was indeed their reality. And so, they were both reminded of this reality as the officiant's voice echoed in the venue.

"Welcome family, friends and loved ones. We are gathered today to celebrate the union of,'' The officiant paused to look at the younger. ''Jeon Jungkook and,'' And over at the elder. ''Kim Taehyung."

Jungkook's breath hitched, squeezing his husband to be's hands tighter.

"Your marriage will be a lifelong promise to love, respect, trust and honor each other through the good, the bad and the unexpected. This union represents your commitment to support one another as individual beings but share your joys, sorrows, and dreams as one." The speech continued, the officiant rambled about marriage, about love, about everything-- and Jungkook couldn't do anything but silently admire Taehyung, just as the elder did back. Their expression said it all, it always did. Ever since they were younger, the look in their eyes never changed as they found each other's gaze.

''Jeon Jungkook, do you take Kim Taehyung to be your husband?''

Jungkook swallowed tightly, it felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest at any given moment. The way he fucking loved this man was unheard of.

"I do." His voice was clear, and for that he was thankful-- even if his cheeks were damp with tears.

The officiant turned to look at the elder.

"Kim Taehyung, do you take Jeon Jungkook to be your husband?"

Taehyung didn’t need another second to think it through; he’s had five years to make up his mind—“Fuck, o-of course! I mean, I do.” He squeezed the younger’s trembling hands, twiddling with the delicate piece of metal hugging Kook's ring finger; grinning freely past the layer of tears that washed over his chocolate eyes.

“Forasmuch as Kim Taehyung and Jeon Jungkook have consented together in holy matrimony, and have pledged their love and loyalty to each other, and have declared the same by the joining and the giving of rings, by the power vested in me, and as witnessed by friends and family, I now pronounce you married. You may kiss the groom.” The series of claps and exceptionally loud cheers (drunk Jin) from their friends barely reached Taehyung’s ears. The elder practically threw himself in Jungkook’s arms, tightly wrapping his own around the younger’s neck as Tae kissed the hell out of him, taking his sweet time with his husband. Fuck.. felt disorienting— yet extremely fitting to think that; to be able to refer to Jungkook as his husband.

“I love you so much.” Taehyung’s faint whisper only reached four ears, his and Kook’s. Their friends lingered in the beautifully lit background, cooing; some snapping hundreds of pictures (once again, drunk Jin) of the pair. “And yeah, they were right. You do look spicy..” The elder discreetly raised a brow, having yet to part ways from Jungkook’s warmth. “But tonight, you’ll look even better naked.” The elder’s hands tauntingly slid down to Kook’s waist, where he gripped at his soft edges. Taehyung’s dim smirk diminished into yet another kiss, this time needier..

“Uh, guys? You gonna stop kissing now..?” Hoseok gave them a verbal poke, “We’re still here, you know.”

Jia cheerfully butted in, “Let’s get this party started, I wanna get wasted.”

Jungkook wiped his dry tears off his cheeks when theiy kiss is broken, wide smile mixed with his flustered blush. Tae always managed to sneak in the comments that'd make his insides stir from the mere anticipation of what's to come. Their wedding night. Somehow, that thought made it even more special. And even if they've done practically everything together, Koo was feeling a bit nervous... He wanted it to be even more special. He was thankful for the fact that a bit of liquid courage would surely help with his nerves. Honestly, tipsy sex later on didn't sound that bad...

"Don't say such things yet, or I won't be able to wait until tonight.." Jungkook whispered back, burying his face in Tae's neck momentarily until his blush would subside.

Photos were taken, from Tae popping the champagne bottle for their first drink together as a married couple, arms hooked and cheesy for the cameras, Jungkook cutting their cake and feeding it to Taehyung, with all hyungs in the back cheering like dumbasses, to Yuna smearing cream on Jungkook's nose as he held her. It was the perfect gathering for everyone that loved them, and for the ones they loved. The venue had moved into the party event of the night, Kook's suit jacket came off to only wear the pants and white dress shirt underneath, sleeves rolled up to his biceps, hair slightly messy but still put together. Drinks now in hand, hyungs, friends and the married couple exchanged laughs, memories and embarrassing stories.

''Remember when Taehyungie aaalways would give Jungkookie the marshmallows during breakfast? Ah, so wholesome. And here they are, fucking maaarrried!" Jin laughed, raising his glass for another drink.

''And when they disappeared during that party...'' Yoongi added quietly, his cheeks red from the alcohol. ''Then they came back from upstairs looking all newly fucked.''

Namjoon choked on his drink at the memory, remembering literally finding them naked in the room. But, that was something he'd take to the grave, however giving the couple a look of 'if they only knew.'

Jungkook blushed, tilting his head back to gulp down one of his drinks. ''My favorite is... McDonalds.'' he scrunched his nose at the memory, glancing over at Tae. ''Remember?''

Taehyung sat his half-empty glass of wine down. The slender fingers that once wrapped around its crystal base were now on Jungkook’s thigh, caressing over the smoother fabric of the younger’s dress pants— a different feel compared to Kook’s usual, rugged style. “How could I forget..” Tae chuckled, “That’s the place where you asked me out.”

“I knew it!” Jin’s loud voice startled little Yuna, who was busy stuffing her face with a slice of cake whilst the rest of the adults conversed about different topics that didn’t intrigue her five-year-old mind. Immediately, she hid her face in Namjoon’s chest, small fists clinging onto her father’s suit. “Remember that day in the lunchroom? When both of you were being total assholes and wouldn’t tell us who asked who out? I was right.”

Hoseok’s eyes lit up, as if the memories had just registered in his brain— “I remember! Always thought it was Tae, though.”

Taehyung’s cheeky grin evolved into a laugh, comfortably leaning his body against his husband’s, “Nope. It was him, it was right after the party, too. I remember it clearly— my ass was so sore, and the stars were really pretty.. also, the milkshakes. At that moment, he just.. asked if I wanted to be his boyfriend, so I said yes.”

Jimin’s plushy lips jutted outwards into a soft pout, cooing.

“I didn’t know you back then, but that does sound cute as hell.” Jia looked over at Yoongi, seeing as he was already looking back at her. The sensual tension between those two was pungent, anyone could tell. “This man right here cried fat tears during your vows.” Yoongi’s fond expression shifted into a frown, huffing as he poured himself another drink.

“Not true, Jia. You sure love to over-exaggerate things, don’t you?”

Yoongi definitely cried. Everyone knew.

“Whatever, I’m gonna go... to the bathroom, drank too much..” The last bit was mumbled. With a quick look towards Jia’s direction, Yoongi raised his brows— she got the hint.

“Gonna go check my dress, shit’s too tight.”

And just like that, both disappeared from the table.

Hoseok snickered, “Remind you of some people?” Taehyung smirked, bumping shoulders with Kook.

“They’re definitely hooking up. Yoongi had a tent under those pants.”

“Daddy? What’s ‘hooking up’?” It was Jisoo’s turn to glare at the man at her side, “Jin!”

"That's uhhhh..... oh look Yuna, cake!" Namjoon averted the distraction with sugary sweets, which seemed to work by the way the little child suddenly forgot about any mention of 'hookups', his dimpled smile directed to Jisoo. Jungkook leaned onto Taehyung, his fond eyes travelling across the group. The fact they all managed to still be friends was a blessing. The night went on, everyone getting more intoxicated, Yoongi and Jina still gone-- probably left to continue somewhere else.. and Jisoo and Namjoon ended up leaving because little Yuna had a bedtime to attend. The rest of the group stayed around until late hours, cheering and drinking on to celebrate the newlyweds. But all nights come to an end, everyone standing outside the building to bid their farewell.

"Time for you guys to consummate the marriage huhhhh?" Jin winked, one arm clinging onto Hoseok's shoulder to keep him up straight.

"Itll be like any other night." Hoseok snickered, hissing when Jimin kicked his shin.

"Congrats on the marriage, guys." Jimin cheered, blowing kisses in the air to the sweet couple. "I'm very happy for you guys. Ahh.. I want to marry someday too."

"Maybe Mino will marry you." Jungkook giggled, his cheeks red from the alcohol heating him up, clinging onto Taehyung's arm like a child. He surely was bigger, but in a moment like this he seemed just so small and endearing. "See you guys later."

The couple waited for their cab, as neither were in a condition to drive, anxious to get home to their first night as Mr. And Mr. Jeon.

“Someone’s had a bit too many drinks..” Taehyung drunkenly chuckled, wrapping one arm around Jungkook’s loose shoulders to pull him in closer, out stretching his neck; in the lookout for their expected cab. Once the car finally pulled up, Tae slumped down on the backseat, throwing his head back with a tired groan. It’s been a long, exciting day; almost all of the elder’s energy was spent entertaining their guests. “Fuck, ‘m tired, husband..” Like a kid, Taehyung turned his head to gaze into the younger’s eyes, cheeky grin tugging at his lips. “Dunno if I’m gonna be able to fuck you dumb tonight.” Oh, Tae definitely could. Now that he was in a hazier mindset, messing with Jungkook seemed that much more amusing.. The elder might‘ve been tired; but he never got tired of Kook’s body, and tonight was no exception. “Shit, I was really gonna take my time with you and everything.. I was gonna make love to you, hard.” He forced out a defeated sigh, diverting his attention to the various lights outside.

Jungkook turned to look at Taehyung with his wide doe eyes, hands fiddling in his lap. He pouted. "But Taeeee...." he leaned in closer, hand reaching to tug at his husband's collar for attention. He really turned into such a baby when he drank with Taehyung. And maybe, just maybe it also had to do with the fact that they were horny newlyweds, he's been teased all day. "Tired? noo.. babe, we can wake you up. I'll wake youu uuup!"

“God, you’re so fucking cute..” Taehyung scooted closer to his tipsy husband, Tae’s distant laughter now coming across as raspier than before; the slight vibrations in his broad shoulders brushing against the side of Jungkook’s arm. “You’ll wake me up, huh..” Something else was already aroused awake, and the elder couldn’t bare to keep it a secret from Kook for much longer.. “I have an idea— of how you can wake me up, that is.” Taehyung pressed a small kiss onto the younger’s cheek, alert eyes trained upfront. “Wanna know what it is? Shit, why am I even asking, of course you do..” He pulled away from Jungkook’s ear, drunken-breath clashing against the latter’s clammy skin. “Get a feel, baby.” Tae cautiously led the younger’s hand to his bulge, ragged breath hitching in his throat. He was extra sensitive, and it was hard to not make much noise.. The driver would start to get suspicious. “Ah shit.. move your hand.” With a quick peek upfront, Taehyung undid his zipper, man-spreading for Jungkook. Luckily the back was dark enough, but there was always a chance of them getting caught..

Jungkook's eyes sparkled in the dark, biting down on his lower lip to prevent the needy whimper that threatened to escape his throat. He probably wouldn't admit it so openly, but there was something about the risk of getting caught that turned him on even more than if it would've been a simple wait for them to get home. Taehyung surely knew that though. Kook was his little exhibitionist. And the latter was ever grateful that the elder indulged in his deviant desires. "Can't believe I get to call you my husband." Jungkook whispered, voice more steady this time around. One hand still palming Tae’s bulge over his pants, his other hand snaked underneath the waistband for a direct contact, sighing out a shaky breath at the silky, soft yet hard length that throbbed in his hand. Kook has seen, tasted and touched Taehyung's cock what felt like a million times before, but there was no way he could ever get enough of it. Slowly, he stroked Taehyung's rigid length with lazy movements, relishing in the response he drew out from his husband in the form of twitchy hips, the struggle to remain silent.

“Fuck..” Taehyung’s tongue swiped over his lips, temporarily wetting the dry patches. He harshly tugged at his lower lip with his teeth, and the corner of his mouth twitched once as he held back a deep, thick growl. “My fuckin’ husband; you like this, don’t you? My sneaky baby.. jerking me off in the backseat of a stranger’s car. Dirty little thing.” The elder gently rocked his hips into Kook’s hand, looking down at the way the front of his pants would bulge outwards with every stroke. “So fucking good. You imagining it’s your ass wrapping around me, baby boy? Hm? Fuckin’ bet you wanna jump my bones; you wanna feel this big cock inside of you— fuuck..” Taehyung threw his head back, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Mmhm... shit, when you talk like that..." Jungkook rubbed his thighs together, uncomfortably adjusting his erection. "Drives me mad. My little ass is throbbing, clenching just thinking about your fat cock filling it up." Koo whispered into the elders ear, squeezing Taes turgid length a little harder, his hand getting more and more slick with every stroke, focusing his attention on the swollen mushroom tip than the rest of it, rubbing his thumb underneath the crease of the head. "I love you. Do you feel a bit more awake now?" He breathed out coyly, nuzzling his nose into Taehyung's neck. For one it could look like an innocent cuddle, little drunk koo just seeking leverage. But the innocence was nowhere to be found in either of the boys.

Taehyung’s nails sank deep into the fabric of his pants, feeling the strong muscles under his thigh shift into a clenched position. The way Jungkook’s thumb kneaded the spot under the reddened tip; accentuating his vigor— it had Tae losing it. Kook knew how much that gesture drove him insane. He also knew that it turned Taehyung on to the max; if the latter wasn’t in such a trance, he would’ve had to punish Jungkook for it. How dare he tease him in a situation like this one?— knowing Tae wouldn’t be able to fuck his brains out.. “Y-yeah.. more awake. Keep rubbing under there..” The elder grew harder in Kook’s hand, the rocking of his hips gaining more momentum. “O-oh.. fuuck.”

“Everything okay back there?”

Shit— shit! As if it could possibly hide the commotion going on inside of his pants, Taehyung’s hand instinctively covered over his bulge; looking like a wide-eyed idiot. He quickly turned to look at Jungkook, silently pleading with him to answer for the both of them. His voice would betray him, Tae was sure of it. Fuck, he just wanted to arrive at their expensive suite already and fuck his husband..

"All good, siiir! Just a little too much to drink!" Jungkook chirped back, keeping his eyes fixed on Taehyung's wide ones. Mischief was evident on Jungkook's expression, he was fucking thriving off of the risky situation, the embarrassment that could possibly dawn upon them. But Kook was confident the chance of actually being caught was more unlikely. "Don't worry so much, you're way too obvious..." Jungkook whispered, although he did enjoy the tension it provided. "I wonder if I could just suck you off right here?" He added lowly, eyes lowering to watch his hand resume it's work, squeezing and rubbing at the swollen head. He licked his lips, nodding to himself as he leaned down, his raven hair barely visible in the dark anyway. "Just gonna take a little nap til we arrive." He cooed out loud, quietly tugging down Tae's pants to release his length from the strain of fabrics. He sighed, the sound coming out as a quiet moan that only the elder could hear before directly taking the tip into his mouth, no teasing-- just as much as he could possibly take down his throat, tongue brushing against the velvety skin. He remains still, his gag reflex well trained throughout their years together, allowing the elder to just feel the wet warmth of Jungkook's fleshy mouth, like a good cock warming prep. Koo knew this would drive him mad, riled up to the max to get what he wanted in their bedroom later on; a desperate, rough, punishing fuck.

“Kook— wha.. a-ah..” Taehyung gasped; he didn’t expect Jungkook to actually go through with it, but now that the younger’s mouth lingered frozen around his heated cock, Tae found that to be even more surprising. Jungkook was really testing him.. “Fuck, babe quit playing and suck my dick..” His fingers wove themselves in through his husband’s long hair, tugging at its roots. Taehyung stared down at where Kook’s warmth engulfed his most sensitive body part, desperately trying to make out the younger’s swollen lips in the darkness. Still as cautious as ever, Tae’s eyes continuously flickered between the focused driver and his husband, slightly pushing downwards on Jungkook’s head. “Baby, fuck.. so warm, shit.” Taehyung felt as if he’d be able to stay like this forever.. “You’re taking in all of it like a champ, Jesus..”

As if Jungkook was cock-warming him, Tae threw his head back, eyes closed while he visibly relaxed. It was tempting to fuck the younger’s mouth, but after a long; eventful day, this was what Taehyung needed..

“So newlyweds, huh? How does it feel?”

The elder’s eyes immediately awakened, worried that the man would be able to see Jungkook through the rear view mirror. He pushed down on Kook’s nape, feeling the younger’s drool slither down his naked length. “Oh, uh.. it— it feels great.” Taehyung bit down on his rosy lip, slowly thrusting his hips upwards. Fuck, Kook was going to be the death of him.

Jungkook placed his hand on Tae's thigh, smoothing his hand in slow circles as a way of reassurance that he's fine. But of course, Tae knew the younger could take it all. He took a deep breath through his nose, swallowing tightly around the elders swollen length. The fleshy walls of his throat constricted, the light quiet sound of the younger gasping for more air more prominent. But Kooks hand remained soothing on Tae’s thigh. It was fine. He loved this. And, the fact that Taehyung was having a conversation with the driver only made it so much more entertaining.

"That is amazing. You two make a very handsome couple. I can hear the sighs of women from here when they see the two of you together." The driver chuckled lightly.

The moan scratching at the back of Taehyung’s throat converted itself into an awkward chuckle; his posture stiff as he relished in the comforting touch of Jungkook’s hand. “Y-yeah,” another forced laughter, “He’s very good.. very handsome. Lucky to have him— o-oh shit.” Tae felt his husband’s throat close in around him, and the elder insisted Kook could make out the saltiness of his precum. Shit, he was practically squeezing it out of him at this point, Jungkook was so fucking tight..

“Everything alright?” Of course the driver heard.

“Yeah— yeah, ‘m good.”

Taehyung’s tongue swiped over his lips, his fingers having yet to part from the younger’s hair. “Wanna feel you even more..” Subtly, Tae’s hips fucked into his mouth, the tip of his cock repeatedly prodding against the back of Jungkook’s throat. “Oh god..” His body’s rhythm was steady, but anything was better than nothing. The elder stared down at him, admiring the way the boy’s plush lips would occasionally graze the skin of his pelvis. Jungkook’s gag reflex had gotten better, and Taehyung was big— it came as an initial surprise for both. Now, they were used to it. While his dick stayed snug inside of Kook's mouth, the driver decided it’d be a good idea to continue asking them questions.

“Any plans for the future?”

“Uh, buy a house, raise a baby— things like that.” Normally Tae wouldn’t have answered so quickly, but he was desperate for the man to stop asking them questions..

“That’s amazing. Babies are a handful, I have two of them myself, so I wish you guys the best of luck!”

“T-thanks. We’ll need it.”

“How does your husband feel about that? Excited to raise a kid?”

“Yeah, babe. How do you feel about raising a baby with me?” If Jungkook could tease him, so could he. “Come on, wake up from your nap honey. It’s rude..”

Jungkook clawed at Taehyung's thigh for having the guts to force the younger to interrupt what he'd started. He really didn't want to separate his throat from Tae's cock. However, he did, slowly feeling the rigid length brush against his fleshy mouth as he pulled back to sit up straight, combing his fingers through his hair with one hand and wiping his teary eyes with the other. "Yeah,'' His voice came out hoarse. He padded his eyes with the back of his hand, instead acting as if he's so touched by the very thought of children. "Yeah I am very excited, can't wait to raise a child with him." Kook glanced over at the elder as he said so, he genuinely meant every word that rolled off his tongue. However, right now, there was a hint of his mischievous annoyance present. He wanted to tease more. Instead, he opted for simply... Not going back down, leaning back in his seat as he placed his hands in his lap, covering the throbbing bulge he's rocking of his own. Fuck, this car ride felt like it was taking forever...

"How sweet.'' The driver chirped as he finally pulled over by their street.

"Well, here we are. It was a pleasure talking to the two of you, I wish you the best of luck with your future. And congratulations on the marriage."

After seconds of just.. waiting for Jungkook to dive back down, Taehyung passed as an actual idiot. He expectantly stared at his husband, dick stiff as a pole— but without anyone to take proper care of it. When it became obvious that Kook wasn’t planning on continuing, Taehyung scoffed, tucking himself back in with a sour expression. This man..

Once the sight of the massive hotel came into view, Tae was eager to get out of there. He rummaged in his back pocket for his wallet before paying the driver, thanking him for the thoughtful wishes regarding their marriage. However, part of him felt guilty that the man remained clueless about what took place in the backseats, so Taehyung gave him a big tip. It didn’t completely get rid of his gnawing guilt, but it definitely helped..

“Thanks. Drive safe.” The elder waved at the man, an innocent smile on display until the car disappeared from their sight.

At that moment, Taehyung grasped onto Jungkook’s bicep, bringing him closer. “What the fuck was that?” He growled into the younger’s ear, “You didn’t even suck me off, that’s low, babe.” His bigger hand snuck down to Kook’s ass, giving it a firm squeeze. “You teased me a lot back there, I don’t wanna hear a word from you when I do the same. Now come on, let’s get checked in, then we’ll see if I’m still up for it..”

Being manhandled in this manner had Jungkook speechless, the one and only sound he dared to allow slipping past his suck-swollen lips was a breathy whimper. Now, it was no secret that the younger was physically the one at an advantage if he wanted to be-- but the thing is, he crumbled so easily with every word hissing through Taehyung's teeth. Jungkook nodded, keeping his gaze low on the ground as his lips curled up in a small smile, legs trembling with excitement. This little game, it was the perfect thrill. Would he get teased until he physically couldn't take it anymore? Would he be left tied up on the bed for hours upon hours? Or would the elder simlpy be too impatient and just fuck him into a dumb drooling mess?

Not knowing what to anticipate drove the younger mad.

Once they made it to the door of their premium suite, he patiently waited next to his husband who had the keycard to the door, eyes occasionally daring to look at how Tae practically oozed with frustration-- like a cloud of power that followed him all the way from the car. Kook licked his lips at the sight, a soft shaky breath all that left him as he shifted his weight on his feet, keeping his head low still. He wanted to feel small.

Taehyung turned on the doorknob, stepping into the neat space that’d soon turn into a mess. The elder was annoyed, and Jungkook knew how he got whenever something was on his mind, especially something like this.. “What are you doing still standing there? Get in.” No trace of fondness remained put in Taehyung’s naturally lower voice. Tonight, he’d put Jungkook through the merciless teasing that the younger showed him in the car; and Tae was going to enjoy every minute of it. After closing the door behind them, the elder loosened his bowtie, throwing it to the corner where his suit jacket laid. He turned around to face Jungkook, forcing the latter to stare into his eyes by redirecting his chin upwards.

He really looked too cute..

“Why are you so shy? You look so innocent..” Taehyung clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, withdrawing his hand from Kook’s chin. “But you’re far from innocent, and I think you know why.”

With a bratty smile, Tae made himself comfortable on the edge of the bed, unbuttoning the first few buttons of his top. “Why should I fuck you, hm? You’ve been nothing but a pain in the ass.” He made zero efforts to meet Jungkook’s eyes, playing uninterested.

Jungkook's doe eyes widened as he stepped closer to the elder until he stood in front of him, knees almost touching. He tried to meet Tae's eyes, but they kept avoiding him like the plague. And that alone ignited the needy fires within the younger-- he craved the attention even more when he was deprived of it. "Please, Taehyung." Jungkook's voice was low, a just audible enough whine. He dropped to his knees in front of Tae, still desperately attempting to feel his husband's gaze on him. "I'll be good, so good for you." He added, his hands already unbuttoning his own shirt after loosening his tie; eager to free himself from the restraints of the fabrics. Eager to feel Taehyung's clammy skin against his own at some point. Kook threw his shirt to the side, leaving his tie loose around his neck purposefully. He leaned in, placing his tattooed hands on Taehyung's thighs daringly as his sparkly gaze seeked attention. "I'll do anything to make up for it." He licked his lips as he said so, genuine in every sense of his words. "Mr. Jeon." He quirked a brow, liking how his name sounded when addressed to the elder, giving him a new level of authority that had Kook's cock throb beneath his dress pants.

Mr. Jeon..

Taehyung’s fingers tightly curled around Jungkook’s loose tie, roughly pulling the younger’s body upwards, unbothered to be the one who put in the effort to make their gazes clash. In this moment, Jungkook was his little doll; Tae got to handle him as he pleased. “Anything?” Their noses were practically touching whilst the elder’s hot breath fanned Kook’s flustered face, his eyes dead-set on the younger’s relaxed lips. “Call me that again.” Taehyung not only wanted to hear, but he wanted to see. The elder’s stare fell heavy on Jungkook’s lips, anticipating seeing the way they moved as Kook referred to him by such a commanding name. “Fuck.. say it.”

Jungkook licked his plushy lips deliberately slow before he inhaled deeply. "Mr. Jeon... Please, use me." He said with a low voice, his dark eyes still seeking for any attention. But knowing he wouldn't get it until the elder chose to, he settled for observing every little reaction he was able to draw out of him. He knew Taehyung didn't go unaffected, whether he acted like it or not. "Jeon Taehyung." He repeated the full name, this time it came out more like a strained sigh due to the tightness of the tie around his neck, eyes fluttering shut when he felt Tae's hand tug at the fabric controlling his airways.

Fuck, Taehyung couldn’t take it any longer; he had to have Jungkook. It was annoying— how the younger more often than not got away with whatever the hell he wanted, simply because of Taehyung’s undying hunger for the man.. But, who said the teasing had to end there? Surely not the elder. It was more fun that way.. Tae’s bigger hand unlatched itself from Jungkook’s tie, instead snaking around to the latter’s nape, sinking his fingers into the rigid skin before forcing their lips together. The kiss was anything but gentle, instead it reflected off of how Taehyung was feeling at the moment; needy, controlling— rough. “You’re gonna regret messing with me..” The elder mumbled in between their breathless kisses, the grip on Jungkook’s nape now more prominent, and so was the bulge in his tight pants. “You’re gonna listen to Mr. Jeon’s every word, got it?” Taehyung’s thumb caressed over the smooth skin of Kook’s cheek, feeling the warmth radiating from it. “Now undress me, but undo my zipper with your teeth. Hold eye contact throughout all of it, can you do that, puppy?” Not waiting for a clear answer, Tae comfortably leaned back on his arms, waiting for Jungkook to get started.

A spark of excitement swirled in Jungkook's dark gaze, eager to please and serve his husband. It was so fucking hot to see him this way, a nonchalant expression oozing of power, leaned back to showcase just exactly Jungkook was yet to unwrap for himself to see. Kook was confident, thrilled; and impatient. The mix had his hands trembling as he firstly finished the job of unbuttoning every single button on Tae's dress shirt, letting it freely fall to his sides to expose the firm yet soft torso that the younger had seen and admired countless times; yet every single time it felt new. "Yes, sir." Jungkook dragged his upper teeth across his lower lip as he lowered himself back on his knees between Taehyung's legs, eyes never wavering from his husbands. He clicked the initial button of the elders pants open before inching down to clasp the zipper between his bunny like teeth. Kook still stared up at the other male, desperate for any praise at all; and it showed in his eyes. And he was ready to work for it, there was no challenge the younger male wouldn't attempt to conquer. With every tooth of the zipper unraveling, the sound triggered his cock to pulse beneath his still intact pants. He both relished and cursed the slow pace of this, he craved to feel full, yet the journey there was just as exciting. When finished, he kept his teeth clamped on the little metal piece on the zipper, not daring to let go until ordered to do so.

“Have I ever told you how fuckin’ pretty you look when you’re obedient?” Taehyung purposely stayed back to watch Jungkook’s patient expression, knowing he could tell the younger to let go of his zipper whenever he wanted. “Now’s when you decide to be good, huh.. shit, so gorgeous..” The elder leaned forward, a shit-eating smirk tugging at his slightly swollen lips. “Let go.” Right as Kook was beginning to pull away, Taehyung’s palm pressed flat against his throat, gripping at Jungkook’s neck with his slender fingers. Although his grip was too strong to wriggle out of, Tae made sure it didn’t hurt Kook.. badly. “If you were so confident in the car, how ‘bout you prove to me just how deep you can go, hm?” Taehyung’s thumb pressed down harder at the receptive spot on the side of Jungkook’s neck, loving the way his husband seemed taken-aback by his actions. “Suck my cock, no games this time.” Growing impatient, the elder let go of his hold around Jungkook’s skin, expecting him to follow through; just like he always would.

"Yes." Jungkook gasped his word out the moment Taehyung withdrew from his throat, his throbbing erection aching so badly it almost hurt. He wanted to please so badly, he was thriving as he would remain feeling inferior throughout. He placed his hands firmly on Taehyung's thighs, using only his mouth to pick up the tip into his mouth, leaning forward to take the entirety of his husband's rigid cock down his throat, tongue brushing against the soft skin as he did so. Taking a deep breath through his nose, he wasted no time in hollowing his cheeks, sucking with an evident hunger as he began to slowly bob his head up and down. Every time his plush lips pressed against the elders pelvis, he'd feel his throat fight the girth in the form of constrictions, his eyes beginning to gather a layer of tears. He looked up at Taehyung as he withdrew, keeping the tip in his mouth as he swirled his wide tongue around it, only for him to move back down until the bulbous head prodded the back of his throat. Jungkook resumed his ministrations for as long as Taehyung would desire, the wet, loud sounds of the younger sucking with greed striking in the quiet room.

The muscles underneath Taehyung’s throat bobbed with every gulp he took, jaw slack as he watched Jungkook get to work; in a trance from the way his husband’s tongue circled around his head. Ever since they were younger, Kook always knew how to please him during a blowjob. The younger knew what he was doing, and it benefited them both. Those times they’d sneak out of the classroom only for Jungkook to get down on his knees— that feeling of infinite bliss and exhilaration never left. And now here they were, married, yet acting like the horny teenage boys they once were when they properly met... That’s how Taehyung felt with Jungkook; young.

“Shit.. you’re gonna fucking make me burst..” The elder threw his head back, the raspiness of his moans now accompanying the lewd sounds in the room. “You love my cock so much.. fuuck yeah, that’s it, good boy.” Taehyung relished in the warmth a bit longer, cheeks flushed with color. He could endure it a little more..

Jungkook pressed his thighs together at the sounds he managed to draw out of his husband, his muffled moans still caught in his throat. He took it upon himself to ease the pulsating ache between his legs by reaching down with one hand, unbuttoning his tight pants to seek some relief. Never once did he waver the rhythm he'd built up, skillfully sucking and licking Taehyung's turgid length as if he was worshipping the man himself. Kook snaked his hand beneath his own waistband, palming himself through his underwear to find even the slightest of friction, his teary eyes forcing a tear down his cheek to join the mess of drool and precum on his lips and chin.

Similar to a favorite movie of his, Taehyung found the sight below him so foreseeable yet so enticing. No matter how many times the elder’s seen Jungkook’s drool glisten down his skin, each time felt like the first. Kook was working so hard for him, maybe it was about time he did the same.. “Shit.. that’s enough.” With his hands on the younger’s shoulders, Taehyung withdrew his cock from Jungkook’s mouth, instantly missing the warmth it once provided. He gazed down at the thick layer of drool on his dick, and then back at Kook’s face— he looked beautiful like this, with rosy cheeks and watery eyes.. But Tae knew something else had to be done. “Strip for me, wanna see all of you..”

Jungkook gasps for air, not bothering to wipe his glistening chin at all as he gets up on his feet. His cheeks are flushed when he sees his own erection aching beneath the fabrics of his pants. His already exposed torso clammy from working hard on Tae's cock, messy hair and the loose tie gives him a sure look of a good, submissive boy. Now all that's missing is to show off just how badly he needs Taehyung. "Am I doing well?" Jungkook asks, fishing for more praise. His tattooed, long fingers curl around his pants as he pulls them down along with his underwear, allowing the fabrics to pool at his feet before stepping out of them. Now fully in the nude (except for the little cute tie around his neck), he takes a step to stand right in front of his husband, hands limp on his sides as he awaits what's next, cock twitching in anticipation.

“You’re doing amazing, baby..” Taehyung’s hooded eyes skimmed down Kook’s exposed, awkward stance; inhaling every inch of the younger’s skin as if it was smoke to his lungs. Jungkook was drop dead gorgeous— even in such a vulnerable state, he managed to make the elder’s breath hitch. Taehyung was sure that feeling would never, ever go away.. He never wanted it to. It kept things exhilarating between the two; it gave Taehyung a rush like never before. “You look so fucking cute with your tie.” A low chuckle emitted from deep down the elder’s chest whilst his feet moved on his own, breaking the small distance between their bodies. One of his hands landed on the side of Jungkook’s waist, and his pointer finger hooked itself underneath the flimsy fabric around Kook’s neck, drawing him in closer. Their cocks gently grazed over one another, the small contact having Taehyung bite down on his lower lip— his husband’s lower lip, anything to be more than close. “You turn quiet real quick, don’t you?” The elder breathed out against Jungkook’s neck, running the tip of his nose along the responsive skin. “Hope you’re less shy when I pound into you, wanna hear you.” In that instant, Taehyung harshly drove the younger’s back against the wall, caging his relatively larger build in between his own. No matter how much stronger Jungkook was; or how tough he appeared in people’s eyes, Tae knew the younger man would always be his baby boy.

Those doe eyes made Taehyung want to corrupt him again and again.

“So fuckin’ pretty, goddamn.” The elder’s mouth latched on to his husband’s sweet spot, sucking on the soft skin as if it was the last thing he’d do. Both of his bigger hands held Jungkook’s wrists above his head, stopping him from wriggling too much. “Gonna give you so many hickeys, want everyone to know what we came here to do.. and that’s fucking mark my territory.”

"Ah~ yes, I'm yours...." Jungkook's rosy lips parted in a needy whimper, muscles in his arms and torso flexing as he lightly tugged against the restraints that were Taehyung's hands-- however not hard enough to actually set himself free. He could.. but he did.not.want.to.. He was thriving to be Taehyung's good boy. His regular day to day life always consisted of being the big guy, the strong guy. The one in charge. And ever since they were teenagers, the elder was the only person who could reduce him into a whiny, needy boy that just wanted to be manhandled, praised, and properly and utterly fucked. Jungkook's breathy moans were growing heavy, eyes screwing shut as he deliberately focused on the way Tae's lips sucked on his skin-- and trying his best to ignore the borderline painful ache between his legs. He could practically feel the precum drool from the swollen head of his tip. But it was so much easier said than done, and the younger's well repeated words throughout the years slipped past his lips in a quiet whine. "More, please.."

Taehyung’s lips attached themselves to parts of the untainted skin of Kook’s neck, down to his collarbones and shoulders, where he stamped a bundle of kisses— ranging from big to small— along every shuddering dip and arch. “Such a good boy for me, I love you.” With one last look into Jungkook’s eyes, Tae spun the younger around on his feet, hands grabbing at his small waist. “Just wanna devour you whole..” The elder’s breath clashed against the other’s nape, feeling the delicate hairs of Jungkook’s skin brush against his nose in a feather-like touch. Everything Kook had to offer was intoxicating.. Taehyung nuzzled his face in the crook of his husband’s collarbone, one of his hands snaking around to where Jungkook’s aroused cock bobbed. His long fingers didn’t wait to wrap themselves around the thick girth, accumulating the precum at the tip, and smothering it down to the rest of his length.

“Don’t cum yet, alright~?” The elder pressed himself harder onto Kook’s ass, pushing the latter’s chest against the wall. His rock-hard dick stayed snug in between his husband’s cheeks, taunting him with painfully slow thrusts. “Fuck..” Taehyung flicked his wrist a couple of times, then proceeded to carefully stroke Jungkook’s wet cock— from the base to the tip. “Your moans are so fucking pretty, I wanna hear them all the time.”

"Oh, fuck... Tae.." Jungkook pressed his cheek against the wall, heavy huffs and moans slipping past his lips. His cock twitched happily in the elder's hand, finally receiving the attention he so badly craved. But it quickly turned out to be not enough. Not enough at all. "You're so good to me-- god.." kooks voice tore into a higher pitched moan when the elders cock pressed against his plump ass, arching his back to seek more, to silently beg for his husband to fuck him already. But he knew better than that, Tae wouldn't give in so easily; even if they both knew and desired just that. "You drive me crazy, I love you so mu-uch!" He tensed his leg muscles, desperately trying to hold back how fast his orgasm wanted to creep up on him, whining louder with every stroke provided by the other male. Kook imagined their first time in that dirty locker room, this position way too familiar-- yet so different. Tae back then compared to now was a completely different man; and yet parts remained exactly the same. Just like Taehyung, Jungkook felt younger with his husband, like they're still a pair of horny teenagers. Now, they're just older; and much better at what they're doing. "Please... baby, I need more." Kook glanced over his shoulder, his dark doe eyes pleading to the elder like a puppy. "Stretch my tight ass for you... I want your fat cock in me.."

Koo paused for a moment, grinding his hips back against Tae's cock-- "Daddy..."

“You know me too well, baby..” Taehyung growled into Jungkook’s ear, grunts muffled against the side of Kook’s neck as his hips gained momentum; feeling the delicate skin of his cock glide between Jungkook’s ass, continuously rubbing against his husband’s clenched entrance. “Oh fuck, daddy’s gonna make you feel so good.” His hand’s dragging motion faltered, “Well, he always does, doesn’t he?” Taehyung’s teeth tugged at the back of Kook’s tie, forcefully ungluing the younger’s tinted cheek from the wall, choking him in the slightest. With the piece of fabric securely clamped down in his mouth, Tae tauntingly tilted his head to the side, wearing a sly smile upon properly making out Jungkook’s shift in blissful expressions. He looked too fucking good.. The elder’s hooded glance was casted downwards, admiring how the tip of his cock would pop out with every upward drag, standing tall in between Kook’s cheeks. “Hngh..” Taehyung tugged harder with his teeth, nails sinking deep into the flesh of Jungkook’s hips.

"Y-yeah, always-- ahn...." Jungkook shamelessly rolls his hips against his husband's cock, legs quaking to keep himself up, hands firmly pressed against the wall to keep some kind of leverage as he gasps from the pressure against his neck as he's tugged back. "Please, now-- need more..haah..." He breathes out in a choked whisper, licking his lips until they shine as if they were glazed with gloss. His fingers curled against the wall, not caring that it'd cause marks if he kept going. Nothing else mattered, only the boys-- reckless and messy, just like they've always been. Now that Jungkook was deprived of the friction of Taehyung's hand on his cock, all he could think about was to feel his clenching hole being stretched and filled to the brim, his agile hips continuously grinding back deliciously against the elder, showing him what he's missing out on. "Just shove it in me, I'm dying without it." He pleaded once more, screwing his eyes shut as he prayed for the tease to soon be over with-- he swore he'd combust at any moment if he couldn't have it.

Taehyung’s rigid mouth let go of Jungkook’s tie, letting the damp fabric resume to its spot on the younger’s nape. Now that he was able to, Tae trailed open-mouthed kisses along Kook’s flexed shoulder blades, the fluttering of his eyelashes grazing the man’s soft skin. “Just a little longer, babe. You’re a big boy, you can handle it.” However, Taehyung himself didn’t know just how much longer he could take it either.. He was good at teasing, but it didn’t mean he didn’t want to rearrange Jungkook’s guts right then and there. The elder kept it up for a few extra seconds, continuing to grind against his husband’s ass; his dick sandwiched in between each rosy cheek. But those seconds felt like hours, and that’s when Tae called it off. “Not gonna shove it in you now, at least wait until we’re on the bed, will ya?” His chuckle caused his shoulders to vibrate, and his cock to twitch. “It’s our first time as husbands, let’s be a little classier~”

With one last squeeze to Jungkook’s ass, Tae led them both to the spacious bed, too high on the moment to part their hungry kisses. His hand securely clasped the back of his husband’s neck, deepening their kiss until the back of their shins met the wooden edge of the bed. Taehyung lightly pushed on Kook’s chest, urging him to lay on his back whilst he discarded his dress shirt that the younger had previously unbuttoned, lower lip clasped in between his teeth. Kicking off the pants and boxers pooling at his ankles, Tae proudly showed off his naked physique before situating himself above Jungkook, towering over the younger man. “So gorgeous.. so pretty.. so fuckable.” Despite their difference in size, Taehyung was used to manhandling Koo in the bedroom, so it came naturally. The elder liked to joke that carrying his buff husband around was the reason he’d been gaining extra muscle recently.. “Gonna stretch you out first, but with my tongue.. spread those legs wide for daddy, he wants a taste of you.”

Jungkook's cheeks flushed in pink at the praise and commands hurled his way, nodding as he did as told. Shuffling up further on the bed with his husband on top, he reached behind his knees to spread his legs wide for Taehyung, exposing everything he had to physically offer like a good boy. He just looked so small like this, it was pitiful yet endearing. "With your tongue...?" Kook meekly replied, leaning his head back comfortably against the soft duvet, the blush on his face spreading fast across his features. He felt a bit embarrassed, but... He wanted it. Taehyung was skilled in many aspects, and using his tongue was definitely one of them. "Taste me, please daddy...."

“Gladly, baby.” Taehyung could pinpoint Jungkook’s obvious embarrassment from a mile away, the redness in his cheeks drawing all the more attention to his body’s natural reaction. The elder could relate, but he also knew that at the end, Koo’s initial uneasiness would soon turn into pure lust; Taehyung knew how it went— all too well, in fact. “You look so pretty all spread out for me, yeah you do.. fuuck.” Tae pressed his hands against the backside of Jungkook’s muscular thighs, leaning downwards to meet his feast in the eyes. “So pink ‘n untouched.. but not for long.” The elder’s wet tongue lapped over his husband’s clenched entrance once, giving each of them a small sample of what was to come. “So sweet, too..” Tae’s chaste kisses were sensual around the rim, his fingernails digging deep into Kook’s flesh whilst he steadied himself on his knees.

A drawn out moan passed through Jungkook's parted lips, pressing his head back against the bed. His hands withdrew from his thighs to allow the elder to take over the grip of his legs, his own hands vulnerably laying above his head. His hips jerked lightly at the sensation, his tight entrance twitching from the welcoming warmth teasing around it. "Mmh, yeah.. Feels good.." Koo announced his pleasure in small, breathy whines, indulging in the way his husband is taking care of him, worshiping his body like it was his last meal in this life. Jungkook glanced down at Taehyung, and the sight had his cock throbbing. The elders dark fringe dangled over his eyes, strong arms holding Kook's legs up, the lower part of his face hiding to please and tease with one of Jungkook's most sensitive parts. "Fuck, you're so hot.." Koo was already losing any sense of embarrassment, all he could feel was the overwhelming lust drowning him-- tunnel visioned on his husband, and his husband only.

“Fuck, I know,” Tae outwardly agreed like the cocky bastard he was, allowing his mouth to linger close to the milky skin of Jungkook’s thighs, ghosting over the smooth flesh with his plush lips. “Gonna finger you first, I know how much you love that.” The elder’s tongue slightly peeked out of the corner of his lips, switching his utmost attention to Koo’s hole; and as if an indescribable pull had taken over his senses, Taehyung’s middle finger sank in without a warning. The man was still leaning down, too focused on the way Jungkook swallowed his slender digit to look away. Soon enough, Tae added in another finger.. and another; and like a small child in a candy store, he was amazed by how much his husband could endure. His eyes were shining with anticipation, mouth watering from the simple sight.. The scissoring motions inside of Kook came to a halt, and as soon as he pulled out his dripping digits, Taehyung’s lean tongue snuck its way past the gaping opening. It was a new feeling.. he’d eaten out plenty of girls before in his High School days, but having his tongue deep inside of Koo felt new— not necessarily a bad kind of new. Shit, he was so warm and.. pleasant. Taehyung’s eyes were fluttered shut, relishing in the way he flicked his tongue in the compact space, scolding himself for not doing this sooner.

"Yeah, yea- oh god..." Jungkook's moans from the familiar fingers broke into a gasp at the new sensation of Taehyung's warm, wet, firm tongue smoothing his insides, his thighs trembling in Tae's hands. "Holy shit..." Koo almost chuckles in disbelief at the fact they hadn't done this the other way sooner, placing his hand over his face to wipe his clammy skin, cheeks flushed red. "I see why you like this so much now, wow..." Jungkook ran his fingers through his hair, slightly dry from the residue of the product, taking deep breaths as he closed his eyes, allowing himself to truly focus on the wet muscle exploring his most intimate parts. "Feels so good.."

The constant shower of praise and moans of approval amped up Taehyung’s slowly diminishing confidence. He didn’t know if he was doing any good— until Koo decided to open his mouth. He gripped tighter onto his husband’s inner thighs, knuckles turning white from his secure handle. The elder’s skilled tongue lapped at every reachable inch of Jungkook’s insides, humming in pure delight at the new taste he’s grown fond of. It didn’t take long, once and Taehyung was hooked.. “Oh wow, you taste so fucking good,” Tae murmured under his heavy breath once he’d pulled away for a quick second, gathering extra spit in his mouth before aiming at Kook’s swollen hole. He placed kitten licks on the entrance, lips slightly puckered as he roughly fucked his tongue in and out of Jungkook, one hand sneaking up to toy with the younger’s warm balls.

Jungkook's hands instinctively reached for Taehyung, combing his fingers through his dark curls as his moans had gradually grown breathier and louder. "Uh huh-- shit, you're so good at that.." Jungkook mindlessly spits his verbal reassurance of the pleasure he's put through, his words coming out as high pitched whines. Kooks hips squirm for more, greedy and needy in every sense of the word. He was an absolute puddle for his husband, always have been, always will be. "I love you, I fucking love you... please, need your cock so bad, noooow..."

The elder withdrew his mouth from Jungkook’s ass, warm spit glistening around his blood-fueled lips and the tip of his nose, making Taehyung look all the more fucked as he gazed down at Kook; making a show out of the way he slipped his tongue back in his mouth, moaning deeply whilst he savored the rest of his husband. Didn’t taste overly sweet, and that Taehyung liked.. “Wanna eat you out everyday now..” Koo’s pink entrance was slick from Tae’s previous work, the rim spread wide enough for him to poke the head of his cock through— “Shit..” Taehyung’s tip was immersed in between Jungkook’s flesh, and soon enough was the rest of his long, thick length. The younger always takes him in so well.. The first time 18-year-old Tae slipped inside of Kook might’ve been a lot to take in, but they’ve both gotten used to each other’s bodies throughout the years they’ve been together.

“Fuck, you good?” Taehyung’s veiny hand guided his dick to a more comfortable position, his long fringe falling down to his eyes. “I love you so fucking much, Koo, fuck.” The elder threw his husband’s legs over his broad shoulders, resting his muscular arms beside Jungkook’s head before beginning to grind into his man, starting at a slow pace. It was their honeymoon.. it had to be somewhat romantic. “I can’t believe you’re my husband— hngh..” Tae grunted out loud, “I-I can’t wait to have a family with you, yeah.. fuck, wanna grow old with you ‘n do everything t-together— so tight..”

"Mhm, yes." Jungkook nodded, his calloused fingers grasping around Taehyung's lower arms tightly, blunt nails digging into the skin for his own sake, he needed to claw at something to release the overwhelming warmth that spread throughout his body. "So good, I love you-- shit, I love being your husband." Koo's eyebrows were tightly knit together as he stared up at Tae with his doe eyes, his blurry vision glazed over with every single emotion he could possess at a moment like this.

Lust, love, relief.

He was just as whipped for the man on top of him as he'd always been, for years already-- and he had no doubt that this was his forever after.

Jungkook bit back a raspy moan when Tae's cock finally started to tease at his prostate, eyes fluttering in bliss, struggling to keep his gaze focused any longer, simply drowning in how amazing it felt to feel his husband's hips grind into him with the utmost affection. It was fantastic, but knowing the younger man-- slow only pleased him for so long... "A-ah, your cock is so big... I love it, fuck, more... Please, Mr. Jeon.." He purred, deliberately clenching his warm flesh around the elder's turgid length, the hint of mischief sparkling in the younger's eyes.

Tae burrowed his face in the crook of Jungkook’s neck, their bodies’ shine mingling with one another whilst Taehyung sweetly kissed the pale skin, tasting the slight saltiness of his husband’s sweat on his lips. He licked over them, allowing them to hang open as grunts and groans made themselves known in the room. The elder wasn’t shy when it came to the noises he made in the bedroom; he wanted to let Koo know just how good he was making him feel.. His husband held a tight grip on his cock, causing it to twitch in anticipation as Tae gradually thrusted deeper into him. “Love it when you call me that— hmph..!” His balls smacked harder against the younger’s ass, squelching sounds taking over the invisible bubble they’ve made for themselves. “Fuck..” It came out as a hoarse whisper, and one of Taehyung’s hands snuck between their bodies to grasp onto Jungkook’s cock, giving the stiff skin a few delicious strokes. “So good..”

"Aa-aah*..!" Jungkook snapped his head from one side to the other, pressing his flushed cheek against the bed. His body trembled like a leaf at the added sensation, a drawn out moan in relief, finally touched where it ached the most. He felt like he'd been a really good boy then and there to finally earn this as a reward. "I f-feel good? fuck--" His voice was strained and wobbly, every thrust choking his words. "Tell me, tell me please... How good I make you feel."

Koo knew already, the sounds his husband was making gave him no doubt about the pleasure his body brought upon the elder. But Jungkook loved to verbally hear it. Almost like back when Taehyung had gone overseas, and all they had were FaceTime. Even though they could easily look at each other through their screens-- the verbal aspect of it was Kook's favorite. And it stuck with him since, hearing that deep voice his husband possessed tell him the most filthy of things, and the highest of praise; it turned Jungkook on.

Taehyung’s head tilted upwards, the fringe no longer as smooth. Instead the dark hairs stuck together by a thin layer of sweat on his creased forehead, giving him little access to truly look into Jungkook’s doe eyes whilst he grumbled out his next words; “Your insides are always so fucking tight, no matter how many times I push my cock in you— hngh.. it never fails to drive me crazy..” The elder snapped faster into Koo, having yet to withdraw his hand from Jungkook’s dick whilst he thrusted into him at an animalistic pace, feeling the head of his cock prod at his husband’s abused prostate. “You’re so warm, too.. the warmest I’ve felt in a really long fuckin’ time. Fuck.. so soft. You make me feel so good.” Still jerking Koo off, Tae’s mouth wrapped around one of the boy’s nipples, swirling his wet tongue around the bud before lightly nibbling on it. He quickly flicked the awakened nip with his tongue, humming into the skin.

"Fuck yes, oh my good, Taehyung..." Jungkook's whiny moans turned into sobs, his abs flexing as they tightened in rapture, the pool of heat quickly ramping up in his lower abdomen. The continous prodding of his sensitive prostate drove him mad. "I'm gonna c-cum, I'm clo-ose, ahhn..." His eyes were filled with desperation, sparkling with the layer of tears and admiration swirling within them. He was completely transfixed on his husband, absolutely whipped for the attention his body is given in so many various ways at the moment. Taehyung's cock, his mouth, his hand. It was overwhelming as hell. Jungkook could easily feel his own cock drool with precum, his thick length swelling to full hardness as if it was about to explode at any moment. All he needed was just-- one. small. push.

Taehyung’s release was also knocking at his door, begging to be spread across Jungkook’s fleshy insides as every thrust of his cock dragged Tae’s energy down bit by bit. “G-gonna cum inside, so close..” Eager to make Koo break down along with him, Taehyung’s grip on his husband’s dick tightened, feeling the stickiness of the younger’s precum cover his fidgeting fingers; easing the slide of his sore hand. “I love you, I love you— a-ahh.. fuuck I-I’m cumming so much.” Spurts of warm white shot into Jungkook, dribbling out of the latter’s entrance as it was too much to hold in despite his cock staying still in its place.

“Wow.. so, does this officially make us husbands now?” The elder’s voice was raspy as he teased, breath hitching once he pulled out of Jungkook to lay on his back, chest heaving whilst he blankly stared at the ceiling. It felt different, yet not different at all.

Jungkook's clammy chest heaved up and down and placed one hand on top of his skin, mindlessly rubbing at his peck as he chuckled. The aftermath of his own orgasm still pulsated in his softening length, the pool of his release warm on his lower stomach. "Yeah, it does." Kook's voice was just as hoarse. He turned his face towards his husband with a small, toothy grin on his face. They were both exhausted, definitely sobered up, and.. sticky, to say the least. But, content nonetheless. Jungkook couldn't have imagined a better way to spend their first wedding night together.

"Hey." His voice lowered, eyes heavy on the elder as he scuffed closer, pressing a soft kiss on Tae's arm.

"I love you. Can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you, Mr. Jeon."

#fic: wedding night #taekook smut #vkook smut #taehyung x jungkook #boymeetsmxm #bangtanarmynet #bts smut #bts mxm #taehyung smut #jungkook smut #dom taehyung #sub jungkook #sombreboy

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laurenairay · 4 years ago

Text

Take a Chance - D. Hamilton

Word Count: 12.7k

Summary: Ashley Miller is a Sunday-morning regular at her local coffee shop. Dougie Hamilton is the associate art curator who catches her eye.

Warnings: coffee shop au, some bad language, a lot of cute fluff, anxiety

A/N: This is my @hockeynetwork winter gift exchange fic for @huttons! I had a lot of fun researching & creating this fic gift, and I tried to incorporate all of the preferences you stated and that we discussed. This is very self-indulgent too, definitely the longest thing I’ve written on here, and I’m not going to go into the very niche research rabbit holes I fell down! Bringing this OC to life made me so happy, and I had a blast incorporating the coffee shop au element. I hope you enjoy this! 💚

Also tagging @danglesnipecelly, @texanstarslove and @itsbadgerbadgermushroom because they all listened to me stress while writing hah.

“Large latte for Ashley!”

Ashley Miller looked up from her laptop, smiling at her favourite barista at the counter. She got up from her table, leaving her laptop and scone briefly as she collected her drink, before heading back to her seat. Sunday mornings were the same every week – arrive at Storm Surge coffee shop when they opened at 7am, park herself at a table in the back corner, and consume a steady flow of coffee as she worked. Sure, her work might vary – teaching Medieval History at The University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill meant her lesson topics were all over the spectrum – but she just found that everything from writing notes for her classes that week to marking essays at the end of the semester became easier if she had the thrum of the coffee shop around her.

That, and she knew she’d just spend her entire weekend burrowed in her house if she didn’t get out.

Having moved to Raleigh 6 years ago to undertake her PhD, Ashley had accepted a teaching job at the very same university she’d studied at when she’d completed her studies a year ago, and she hadn’t looked back since. There was just something about Raleigh that she had fallen in love with, only a 30 minute drive away from her workplace, something that had spoken to her very soul, and actually being able to pass on knowledge about the subject that she was so passionate about made her so incredibly happy. Sure, her parents had never understood her love for 11th to 13th century European history (nor anyone else from her small town in South Dakota) but Ashley had never cared about that – New York had given her the opportunity to grow as a person during her undergraduate and postgraduate degrees, but Raleigh had given her the opportunity to thrive.

And she would forever be grateful for that.

Sundays though…Sundays were something she cherished. This independent coffee shop had been a blessing when she’d found it early on in her PhD research, and they had never complained about her taking up a table for essentially the whole day (and she did pay for each of the many coffees she consumed). Baristas and bakers had come and gone over the past 6 years, but there were a couple that had stuck around recently - and a year ago when she officially became ‘Dr Ashley Miller’, her favourite barista Andrei had even given her a piece of chocolate cake on the house to celebrate. Storm Surge coffee shop was a home away from home.

Of course, there was another reason that Sunday coffee shop time was one of her favourite things in her week…

Tall Cute Guy.

He was a regular every Sunday morning, and had been for the past year - three Sundays a month he would order a mocha and an americano to go, but one Sunday a month he would come in an hour earlier and order just an americano, and drink it in the shop instead while reading an old paperback book. Every single time, like clockwork.

Okay, yes, that sounded a little stalkerish. But he was so cute. Ashley pretty much always had her earphones in playing music so she had never caught his name, but his blonde curls, pretty blue eyes and warm smile had caught her eye straight away. And he was so tall, she couldn’t have missed him if she’d tried. She’d never spoken to him, never even said hi in passing, but occasionally she would link eyes with him and he would smile at her. And that smile was enough to send her heart fluttering. Ridiculous really, but it brought her a little joy.

What was the harm in smiling back at a cute guy every now and again, right?

Dougie Hamilton walked into the North Carolina Museum of Art with a smile on his face. To be honest, it could’ve been for a multitude of reasons. His career was finally heading upwards, having moved museums to become Associate Curator of European Art a couple of years ago, and he loved his work. He had recently renovated his kitchen, which was now looking pretty sleek and awesome, if he did say so himself. His colleagues had genuinely become some of his closest friends, and he had a standing monthly poker night with several of them. But his smile today wasn’t because of any of that.

No, his smile today was because it was Sunday morning, and he’d just picked up his regular coffee order for him and his boss.

Speaking of…

“So, did you finally talk to your coffee shop crush, or did you just awkwardly stare at her like a weirdo again?”

“Oh fuck off,” Dougie grumbled, feeling his cheeks heat up in a fierce blush as his boss Jordie’s words.

It was far too early for this – he’d only just walked into their shared office for fuck’s sake! Jordie just hooted laughter at his embarrassment as he took his mocha from Dougie, making Dougie groan. “One day you’re going to have to talk to her, man. It’s just getting sad now,” Jordie teased.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t we have a museum to open?” Dougie scowled.

Jordie just beamed even more, wiggling his eyebrows as he left their office. Dougie groaned again, running his hands through is unruly hair before he sighed. Coffee shop crush. Hah. Jordie wasn’t wrong though. Not really. His crush…Mystery Laptop Woman…was one of the reasons he always volunteered to pick the two of them up coffee before the museum opened up on a Sunday morning. Jordie had come along with him only once to pick up their coffee, about 6 months ago, and ever since then he hadn’t let Dougie’s shy smile at her go. Of course, Dougie barely knew anything about her – only that she was always in early on a Sunday, always completely consumed by her work, and she had such a super cute concentration face, whatever it is that she worked on. He could never quite tell – sometimes she had a book or two with her, sometimes it was a stack of papers – but he knew for sure that she appeared to mainline coffee like a pro. Probably some kind of teacher?

He’d certainly never had a teacher that beautiful, that was for sure.

Her long dark hair was always down and always a little messy, like she ran her hands through it often (which she did, he’d noticed). Her warm hazel eyes were hidden behind tortoiseshell glasses, and her lips were always coloured in varying shades of dark pink and red. He’d only seen her standing a couple of times, but he’d caught enough of a glimpse of her long legs to have some very inappropriate thoughts. She just looked so kind, so friendly…and so beautiful. Dougie had never been able to catch her name though – she’d always had a full coffee or at least half a coffee left whenever he was in the shop, so he couldn’t even find out sneakily that way. But whoever she was, whatever she did, when he occasionally got lucky enough for her to look at him, her smile made his entire body light up like a fireworks show. It was a bit pathetic really, how much just a smile from her made his entire day, but he was a year into it now and he wasn’t going to stop that for anything. He had a great career, some great friends, and a pretty great life, even if he was tragically single.

What was the harm in smiling at a beautiful woman whenever he got the chance, right?

“Alright, we’ve nearly run out of time now, but just one final thing I want you to think about for Monday’s love in the middle ages class,”

On cue, her students groaned, making Ashley grin.

“Hey, I’m giving you a head’s up here – I could just let you walk into our general lecture blind?” she shrugged, teasing.

That got her a few laughs at least. She’d take that.

“Okay, so we know through our focus on the Medieval Expansion of Europe that one of the biggest tales about Eleanor of Aquitaine in the latter half of the 1100s was of her role in the courts of love. What I want you all to look into is whether these courts of love have the possibility of being a real thing, or whether they feed into the chivalric notions of her contemporaries and were fabricated from the courtly love dynamics of knights and maidens. Just to give us some talking points, okay?”

Her students murmured their agreement, with most of them writing down a reminder. That would have to be good enough for her. At least this way, hopefully someone would discuss the talking points with her in class – she’d found out the hard way last year that there was nothing worse for a university professor than completely uninterested students. She needed something to feed off.

“Alright then, class dismissed. Have a great weekend everyone!”

Ashley moved to her laptop, switching off the projected powerpoint presentation as her students filed out of the classroom, but jumped in shock slightly as she noticed the head of her department sitting in the back corner. How long had he been there?! What was he doing there in the first place? She just hoped her smile didn’t look as nervous as she felt, as he walked up to the front of the room.

Rod Brind’Amour was a legend in the History department for a good reason. His knowledge of military history pre-1800s was unmatched by anyone, but it was his research on the first and second crusades that had inspired Ashley through much of her PhD. Sure, he wasn’t her direct supervisor, but their work interlinked enough that she’d spent many office hours with him debating the second crusade with fervour. For such a big man, he was such a nerd, and he’d made her feel so welcome as soon as he offered her the teaching position at the end of her PhD, with the promise that she would be able to continue her research to inspire future minds. She had been so moved by his words that she hadn’t hesitated to accept the job. How could she not, when someone of his calibre believed in her?

One year in, she wasn’t regretting it at all

“Very smart, setting up some talking points for Monday’s class. I’m so glad I volunteered you to run this year’s Love in the Middle Ages lectures. You’re much better at them than I was,” Rod mused.

Ashley snorted, rolling her eyes playfully. Oh thank god. It’s true that this seminar was one part of the large mandatory Medieval and Early Modern Studies course…but it suited her perfectly.

“That’s because my research focuses on Medieval Queens and the exchange of power they brought to their marriage countries, whereas yours is the effect of each of the crusades through military history. Bleurgh,” she snickered, “Linking today’s Medieval Expansion of Europe class with the generic Love in the Middle Ages lectures on Mondays is just easy,”

“Speak for yourself,” Rod laughed, “give me military tactics any day,”

Ashley just grinned. Some things never changed. “Was there anything you wanted in particular?” she asked, packing up her laptop into its case.

“Just wanted to check in with you, in general,” Rod shrugged, sitting down on the edge of her desk.

Ashley couldn’t help but smile at the thoughtfulness. “I’m doing okay yeah, thanks. Last year’s first semester was more of a struggle for sure, but I don’t have that transition from PhD student and TA to full teaching this time round. I’ve definitely settled in quicker – and this batch of freshman feel a lot more engaged already,”

“That’s good! It definitely shows that you’re handling things well,” Rod nodded, smiling back at her, “But I meant in your life outside of the university too,”

Ashley frowned. What? “What do you mean?” she asked, confused.

Rod laughed softly at her expression. “I know last year you were trying to find your stride, but this year you’ve already got it, so I’m just checking that you’ve got things balanced outside of work too. It’s far too easy to make teaching your entire life – and I don’t want you to burn out,” Rod explained. “I value you here too much for that,”

Ashley’s heart melted a little at his concern, but she just shook his head. “I may not have much going on for me outside of work, but I do get out. I spend my Sundays in a local coffee shop,” she admitted.

Her mind briefly flashed to Tall Cute Guy, but she pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind before she started blushing. So not appropriate for work.

Rod frowned slightly, but nodded. “At least you’re getting out of the house. Just promise me you’ll work on finding time for yourself too?”

“I promise,” Ashley nodded, “I intend to be here for a long time, so I definitely don’t want to burn out,”

“Good, I’m glad to hear it,” Rod grinned, “I’d better get going – see you at the faculty meeting later?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Ashley grimaced.

Rod just laughed at her disgruntled face, lifting his hand in a wave as he left the room. As she packed the rest of her belongings, Ashley couldn’t help but to think over Rod’s words. Was she in danger of a burn-out? Surely not, so early on in her career? Maybe she did need more of a balance in her life…but how?

Another Sunday, another early morning. Sure, Ashley could give herself a lie in every now and again, but that would mean not being able to relax on her Sunday evening, to not have the chance to unwind and reset before the working week starts up again on Monday morning. Spending all weekend in her little 2 bed house wouldn’t do her any good, even as comforting as she’d made it.

Besides, Storm Surge coffee shop was such a part of her routine now, that it would feel wrong to not go in at her usual time. Seeing Andrei the morning barista, Marty the supervisor and Jaccob the baker (who occasionally popped his head out) always made her happy – and as Rod said only a couple of days ago, she needed to make sure she actually kept a balance in her life.

So, as always, just after 7am, Ashley walked through the coffee shop door. She’d skipped eating any breakfast this morning, intent on getting one of the shop’s amazing scones fresh out of the oven, and as soon as she spotted her favourite blueberry-lemon scones in the display, something in her chest settled. Yes, this was exactly why she came every week. This feeling of home.

“Good morning Ashley! Your usual latte?”

Ashley smiled at Andrei, nodding. “Yes please. And one of the blueberry-lemon scones!”

Andrei smiled even wider, if that was possible, and immediate set about inputting her order into the cash register. It was then that she noticed something new on Andrei’s nametag. A pink sparkly kitten sticky. Huh. That was new.

“Nice sticker,” she teased.

“Very sparkly, no? Marty gave it to me,” Andre nodded.

“Oh, Marty did huh?” Ashley grinned.

Interestingly, Andrei blushed. She knew she hadn’t been imagining things. The poor Russian guy just blushed harder, spluttering incoherently, until Ashley took pity on him. It wasn’t like she could be mean to Andrei – he was just too adorable.

“I think the sticker is really cute, Andrei. It was sweet of Marty to give it to you,” Ashley said with a fond smile.

“Thank you! I will tell Marty you like it,” Andrei beamed.

Bless him.

Andrei handed her a scone on a plate, allowing her to go to her usual table in the back corner, setting up her laptop while she waited for her coffee to be ready. She heard a door out the back open, and Andrei quickly slipped away, making her smile.

“AHHHHHHHHHH MR SVECHNIKOV!”

Marty. Ashley just giggled, shaking her head before putting her earphones in for her background music. Yeah, this coffee shop definitely felt like home.

She quickly got lost in writing her lecture notes, going off on tangents that she knew she’d have to rein in later when she edited. It was a full hour before she even looked away from her screen, only to see the shop busy and bustling, every single table full. What the hell? She looked over to see both Andrei and Marty working the counter, only confirming her suspicions that they really had gotten busy while she was lost in her thoughts. Wow. Full at 8am was a new one for sure. Maybe a convention of some kind?

And it was then that she saw Tall Cute Guy walk in. Today he was wearing a pretty blue sweater, bring out the beautiful blue in his eyes, making her smile on instinct. So cute. But then she noticed him being given just the one coffee…he was planning on drinking in, and there were no tables? No!

It made her heart clench to watch him looking around the coffee shop, becoming more and more disheartened…until he noticed her. Maybe, could she, yes. Ashley bit her bottom lip but tilted her head towards the empty chair at her table, earning the biggest smile. She actually did it. She actually offered him the chair at her table. Shit. Her heart started beating faster as he walked over, and she took her earphones out as he came to a stop next to her seat, looming over her.

“I, uh…do you mind if I sit with you?” he asked softly.

Huh. Such a gentle voice on such a big man. Yeah she could totally handle this.

“Please, go ahead,” Ashley nodding, smiling as she waved her hand to indicate, “it’s so busy in here today,”

Oh no. Was that too forward, acknowledging that they’re both regulars?

“Definitely busier than usual, eh?” he mused, “I’ll try not to disturb your work, I’ll only be here for about an hour,”

Ashley laughed, but shook her head. She was just glad he hadn’t been weirded-out by her acknowledgement. That would’ve been so awkward. Her stomach was filled with enough butterflies as it was. “You won’t disturb me, I promise. Sit as long as you like,”

He smiled widely at her, pulling out the chair opposite and sitting down, Ashley just quickly shuffling her papers out of the way for him. He nodded his thanks at her, pulling a paperback book out of his satchel. Then he cleared his throat, so she looked up at him curiously.

“I’m Dougie, by the way,” he said, almost a little shy.

Dougie. That was a nice name. Oh, wow, she finally knew his name! Ashley couldn’t help but smile at him. “I’m Ashley,”

He smiled back at her. “It’s nice to meet you properly,” he said happily.

Ashley just laughed, nodding as she blushed lightly. To have him acknowledge their smiling-from-a-distance definitely sparked something inside of her. Nice to finally meet him indeed.

They sat in comfortable silence, Ashley typing up her tangent notes so far for the morning, and she couldn’t help the feeling of contentment that sat in her chest. The cute guy she’d been smiling at for a year was sitting at her table with her…and it wasn’t awkward at all. In fact, it was really quite nice. And he’d introduced himself!

No, cool it, keep calm Ashley. No-one got anywhere by acting like a giddy schoolgirl. Play it cool.

That promised hour flew by far too quickly. Every now and again she would glance up and find his eyes on her. Every now and again she would glance up only for him to look up and catching her looking. Every time she would blush. Every time he would send her a wonderful smile. But all too soon her table companion was standing up and putting his book in his bag.

“Um…”

Ashley looked up from her work at him, a smile naturally spreading across her face at his nervous expression. Why was he nervous?

“Yes, Dougie?” she said softly, smiling at a little more at finally getting to say his name.

Dougie. Dougie. Dougie.

“I’ll see you soon?” he said, almost hopefully.

“I’ll be here,” she nodded.

Oh god. Well that was stupid. Of course she’d be here. Why couldn’t she just act smoothly for once in her life?

But then Dougie smiled, such a happy little smile that it made her breath catch in her throat.

“Until next time then,” Dougie murmured, “Bye, Ashley,”

“Bye,” she breathed, watching him walk way.

Well, that could’ve been worse. What a Sunday.

Things felt different after that fateful Sunday. Dougie (she knew his name!) hadn’t sat down with her again, or even sat in the shop again yet, but now…now he always made a point of waving at her, waiting until she had waved back to smile. Those waves sent her into even more of a tizzy, a light blush always on her cheeks, and she couldn’t help but cherish them. Maybe it was a bit pathetic, but he was so handsome and he noticed her. It didn’t hurt to pretend it was more than friendly acknowledgement, right? A girl could dream at least.

It was only Wednesday today, but that meant only one thing. Her weekly phone call with her mom. Knowing Susan Miller, Ashley could picture exactly what her mom was doing. Her phone would be propped up on speakerphone while she pottered around the kitchen, finishing off making dinner while also planning what desserts to bake at the weekend. Her mom led a simple life, a retired teacher herself (although she’d taught at the local elementary school rather than ever leaving town), but it was a happy life. And it was these phone calls that were the only thing that made Ashley miss home.

Nothing was the same as a hug from her mom with a slice of homemade apple pie. But those were the sacrifices she made for her love of Medieval History. They never stayed on the for more than half an hour, but it was just enough to fill Ashley’s heart, at least for a little while.

“And I swear, if he doesn’t stop leaving those nasty cigar butts on the front porch, I’m going to whoop some sense into him!”

“You’ve been saying this for over 20 years mom – I don’t think dad is going to change at this point,” Ashley mused, rolling her eyes fondly.

Her dad had been set in his ways for as long as she could remember. Nothing was going to change that, not even a little nagging from the love of his life.

“Yes, well, he could at least clean up after himself,”

Her parents really were ridiculous human beings – but they loved each other, and that was all that mattered. Even if her dad didn’t clean up his cigar butts.

“You wouldn’t know what to do with yourself if you weren’t complaining about his cigar butts,” Ashley grinned. “Maybe threaten not to make that corned beef hash he likes. That might help,”

The laughter that flowed down the phone made her smile even more. Fuck she missed hearing her mom’s laugh in person.

“Oh I miss you sweetpea. Are you sure you’re okay down there by yourself?”

“Yes mom, you know I love my work and my life down here,” Ashley said, sighing softly.

Here we go again.

“I just worry about you rattling around in that old house by yourself!”

Rude. It wasn’t that old.

“I promise I’m fine!” Ashley insisted.

Her mom stayed silent, making Ashley bite her lip to stop herself getting frustrated. Her mom would come out with it eventually…

“I worry about you being lonely, that’s all. You’re such an introvert, you always have been,”

And there it was.

“How could I be lonely mom? I have great colleagues that I talk with. And I’m around students all day and I interact all the time with them! And the baristas at my coffee shop know me by name and we chat too,” Ashley listed.

“The baristas don’t count, Ash,”

Poor Andrei. He definitely counted. Ashley couldn’t help but giggle at the sigh in her mom’s voice though. “Okay maybe not, but there is a guy that I’ve talked to,”

“Ooh a guy?”

Oh no. Oh what had she done? She had to nip this in the bud now.

“No, mom, not like that, just a friendly face to wave at,” Ashley insisted.

Dougie’s shy smiles filled her mind, but she shook her head. Now was not the time.

“Oh boo, you should work on changing that,”

Hah. If only.

“You’re impossible, mom,” Ashley sighed fondly.

“I love you too darling,”

Today he was going to do it. Today Dougie was going to get to Storm Surge coffee shop a little early, get his americano to drink in…and hopefully sit with Ashley again. Ever since that amazing Sunday morning where she offered him a seat at her table (she offered him!), he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. He could kick himself for not being able to do more than wave at her the past three Sundays, but even just the few smiles he seen in passing since have blown him away. Especially with that cute little blush she always had when she waved back at him.

But today he was coming in an hour before he had to get to work, just to have that chance to sit with her and talk with her. Was it a little desperate? Sure. But Dougie never claimed to be anything other than desperate to get to know the beautiful woman he’d only ever seen in passing until now. His schedule didn’t usually allow him the chance – every Sunday the North Carolina Museum of Art opened from 10-5, and he usually got there just after 9 with coffee for him and Jordie, but every fourth Sunday Jordie came in a little later, so Dougie took the time to sit in and read a little before heading into work…and it was the fourth Sunday today. He could only hope that all the nerves and butterflies would be worth it.

Oh fuck, what if she wasn’t even there?

No, she would be. She always was. Enough stalling.

Still…

Dougie walked into Storm Surge with a little ball of nervous anxiety in his chest, praying that Ashley wouldn’t stray from her routine, until he looked over into the back corner…and there she was. He waited until Ashley looked up at him to wave at her, earning a sweet smile and a wave back. Wow, her blush really was so sweet.

“Dougie! You must be drinking in today, yes?”

He snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of Andrei’s voice, quickly nodding. “Yeah just the usual americano, thanks,”

“You got it,” Andrei nodded, beaming at him.

Dougie quickly paid and moved to the end of the counter to wait for his coffee. The shop was only half-full at this time in the morning, unlike last month, so he didn’t have the excuse of busy tables. Maybe…he could just walk up to her, right? He could take that chance, right? Yeah, he could do this.

“Here you go!” Andrei said cheerfully.

“Thanks,” Dougie murmured.

The barista gave him a strange look at his distracted tone, and Dougie knew that Andrei was watching as he walked over to Ashley’s table…but here goes nothing. He could totally do this. He was an adult. He paid his taxes on time and everything. He could definitely ask a pretty woman if he could sit with her again.

“Hey, Ashley,”

She looked up from her laptop with a bright smile, making his breath catch in his throat.

“Dougie! Hi!” she said happily.

She remembered his name! Wow. No, focus.

“Do you, um…do you mind if I sit with you again?” Dougie asked.

Oh god, why couldn’t he just sound cool for once in his life? Why did he always have to be the least smooth version of himself that he could possibly be?

Ashley took one look around at all the empty tables and blushed even more, before she bit her lip and nodded. “Sure, go for it,”

That was a good sign, right?

Dougie sat down with a nervous smile, putting his coffee gently on the table.

“So, um, how have you been?”

Ashley looked surprised (oh god, was she only being polite before?) before that melted into a pleased look. Okay, he could work with that.

“I’ve been pretty good thanks, yeah. I’m just revising the list of essay topics that I’m giving my students on Monday, so not too much work to do today thankfully,” she said, “How about you?”

“I’ve been alright yeah. Work has been a little nuts with the new exhibition at the museum but it’s all come together really well!” Dougie said, beaming. What? Could a man not be excited about artwork? “what do you teach?”

Ashley smiled shyly, looking a little hesitant again. Dougie couldn’t help but frown a little. Had people made her feel awkward about her work before? That wasn’t okay! “I’m a Medieval History professor at University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. My general focus is on the power of Medieval queens, but I teach everything from the expansion of medieval Europe to love in the middle ages, as well as on the general medieval and early modern history modules. I did my undergraduate and masters degrees at NYU, but I moved down here for the PhD opportunity. It’s now my second full year teaching and I just…I love it so much,”

A PhD?! Holy shit, that’s impressive. Wow. Just…wow. How could she be any more perfect?

“That’s incredible!” was all that Dougie could say.

“You don’t have to pretend, I know having a PhD isn’t exactly the coolest thing in the world, especially in medieval history,” Ashley mused.

Well it was definitely pretty fucking cool to him, no matter what other people had ever said to her. “I’m definitely not pretending, I promise. Medieval history is fascinating,” he insisted.

Ashley pursed her lips like she didn’t believe him, making Dougie laugh.

“I’m serious! I may not have a PhD but my masters thesis was a specialism in Rembrandt’s work. I’m a total art history nerd – 14th-17th century in particular,” Dougie explained.

Come on, let the nerdiness pay off for once…

Her face immediately lightened, her mouth forming into a surprised ‘o’, making him laugh again. At least, he hoped it was a good surprise?

“One of the classes I’ll be teaching next semester is Italian Renaissance and European History to 1650,” she murmured.

Holy shit. What a match up.

“Told you I wasn’t pretending to be interested,” Dougie grinned, “I’d definitely love to learn more about that class when you start it,”

Ashley blushed again, but her nervous smile had shifted into a full beaming smile, and his heart could only just about take it. Then she froze slightly, blinking, as if she’d forgotten something. What?

“Sorry, did you say museum earlier?” Ashley said suddenly, “like, you work at a museum?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m an associate curator at the North Carolina Museum of Art,” Dougie nodded.

He did his best not to puff out his chest in pride. He’d worked damned hard on his career and he was proud of it.

“I just…wow, I wouldn’t have expected it,”

Dougie laughed, raising an eyebrow at her sheepish smile.

“A guy who looks like you, like such an athlete’s build…oh god, sorry, that’s so rude of me,” she groaned, burying her face in her hands.

But Dougie just laughed, shaking his head. “Believe me, it’s far from the first time I’ve heard that,”

And never with such appreciation of his body either…

Look, he knew how the world perceived him on first glance. Tall, muscled guy, blonde hair and blue eyes, probably an all-american jock right? How he loved proving them wrong.

“Still doesn’t make it okay,” Ashley winced, “so I’m sorry,”

“Apology accepted,” Dougie mused, “I love my work, so it’s fun surprising people. Especially people with similar interests,”

Ashley bit her lip again but nodded and smiled, tilting her head to show she was listening. Wow, he could definitely get used to her looking at him with this much interest.

“Like I said, I’m an associate curator at the North Carolina Museum of Art. I’m actually Canadian, but I finished my masters degree in Boston and went straight into working at the MFA, but after working on a brief project in Calgary, I realised I wanted to work more in my specialist interests, y’know? So I applied for a role at the Museum of Art here, and became the associate curator of European Art. It’s…it’s everything I could’ve wished for, when I was studying,”

Dougie took a sip of his coffee while Ashley processed that flood of information, hoping he hadn’t come across too strong. People really did tend to zone out when he talked about his work…but hopefully because she also had an interest in European history and art, she wouldn’t be put off?

“I can definitely relate to following and achieving my passions for a niche subject,” Ashley grinned, “and I love that you love it so much. It’s rare, to find someone who gets such genuine joy out of their work. Even though work can sometimes be super stressful,”

“Stressful, but worth it. Especially when a new exhibition comes together so well,” Dougie agreed.

“Oh?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Dougie licked his bottom lip, trying not to look too nervous. This exhibition is such a big deal, and it had been such a lot of work. He could get a little excited about it now, right?

“Yeah, I’ve been working solidly for the past few months on the new exhibition – it’s opening next weekend. It’s a collection of Italian Renaissance Art,” Dougie said, a little hesitant.

Hesitant…because maybe that was a bit flashy? Did it sound like he was bragging? He really hoped not – not just because he was so proud of his work but he genuinely did want to excite Ashley…

“Oh no way! Really?” Ashley gasped.

Dougie bit his lips to control his grin. Oh thank fuck. Finally, someone he could actually impress with his love of art history. “Yeah, last quarter the museum acquired over 30 paintings from the 14th century from various collectors and this will be the first time they’ve all been together in the same room,”

“I bet they’ll be so beautiful all together after so long,” Ashley said, her voice a little wistful.

Wistful? He could fix that. Maybe. Yes, this was the perfect opportunity…

“Maybe we could…I know this might feel a little soon, but I’m…

Dougie trailed off with a frustrated groan, making Ashley giggle. For once, just once, let him be smooth! He took a deep breath, before trying again.

“Would you like to come to the exhibition opening with me?” he asked softly.

Ashley’s jaw dropped slightly, but she quickly nodded, making Dougie’s heartbeat kick up a notch. “Really?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’ve got a plus one as the associate curator, and there’s no-one else I could imagine going with. I think you’d love it,” Dougie explained, “and I’d love to show you the artwork,”

Was that too desperate?

“I’d…wow, I’d love to go with you,” Ashley said, her expression shy but pleased.

Shy but pleased. He could work with that.

“Great, it’s a date!”

Oh God. Dougie could only freeze…but then Ashley smiled. Huh, maybe not so cringey?

“A date huh? I’d love that too,” Ashley said shyly.

Oh thank fuck. Ashley just giggled at Dougie’s blush.

“Give me your number and I’ll text you the details?” Dougie suggested, trying to salvage at least a little bit of his dignity.

As Ashley took his phone from him and entered her phone number, Dougie could only sit in shocked silence. He’d done it. He’d actually asked her on a date. On a date where he could impress her with a topic they both loved so much. All he had to do now was not fuck it up.

That wouldn’t be so hard, right?

Ashley had been in a little bit of a daze when Dougie had left for work. He’d asked her on a date. On a date! And they’d exchanged numbers, Dougie having sent her a little smiley face so she had his number in return. She was just thankful that there wasn’t much work for her to do that day – there was no way she wouldn’t been able to focus otherwise.

And then throughout the week, they’d started exchanging cute little messages. Just sweet little things, like how was your day? and look how cute this dog is and I had the loudest school tour group come through the museum today and which of these texts is going to give me the worst teacher rating? – it was all silly and sweet and fun, and Ashley couldn’t remember the last time that the potential of a relationship had excited her so much.

There was just something about Dougie that made her heart beat a little faster every time she thought of him. It was bad enough when he would smile at her in passing in Storm Surge…but now, with every little text, she felt herself smiling even more than she could’ve imagined, like a giddy little schoolgirl with a first crush.

Because at the moment, it really was just a crush. They hadn’t gone out on their first date yet – in reality, they’d only sat together twice, with one of those times essentially being the exchange of their names. They’d only had one conversation in person. And the texts were so sweet and lovely…but they were just texts. She didn’t want to get ahead of herself and get her hopes up, you know? God knows that had happened enough times.

She couldn’t help but hope that finally, she had met someone with real potential. Dougie made it easy to hope.

Ashley supposed that their first date would be the real test of whether she’d just built up all the excitement of Tall Cute Guy in that coffee shop fantasy in her head, or whether he was the real deal. Their conversation in person on Sunday had been such a good start, but fuck please make him the real deal.

Was it really that much to ask?

Finally Friday rolled around and she was finished with work for the week. Well, mostly. Ashley had just come out of a bi-monthly faculty meeting and just had to check some emails before she could go home for the weekend (and to shave her legs because she found the cutest dress for her date on Saturday) – but as she got to her office, she noticed that Rod had stopped in the doorway, waving to some of their colleagues as they strolled past. Hmm.

“So…you’re looking incredibly chipper for someone who just got out of a tedious faculty meeting,” Rod teased, leaning against her doorframe.

Ashley just laughed, rolling her eyes fondly as she sat at her desk. “I don’t know why you complain so much – you’re the one who runs them,”

“Not through choice, I promise that,” Rod mused, shaking his head, “But you are looking extra cheerful today. Just feeling a little nosy, I guess,”

Ashley bit her bottom lip, hesitating. Should she tell him about her date? It’s not like Rod was a gossip…and it’s not like she had a whole host of friends to tell…

“I may or may not have a date tomorrow night,” Ashley eventually admitted.

His eyes immediately lit up. Oh God.

“Ooh a date, exciting!” Rod gasped dramatically, fanning himself like a southern belle.

“Oh my god, shut up,” Ashley giggled. That could’ve gone worse – but his excitement definitely lit up the butterflies in her stomach all over again.

Rod just laughed, holding his hands up in surrender. “I’m just glad you’re giving someone a chance to sweep you off your feet,” he teased, “Who is he and where is he taking you?”

“He’s a guy I met in that coffee shop I go to on a Sunday, and he’s taking me to the new Italian Renaissance exhibition at the North Carolina Museum of Art,” she explained.

And she couldn’t wait.

“A cultured guy or a try hard?” he smirked.

“A cultured guy,” Ashley giggled, rolling her eyes, “he’s actually the associate curator who worked on setting up the exhibition,”

“Don’t we all love a man who knows his history, even if it is art,” Rod grinned, winking dramatically, earning another giggle, “Let me know how the exhibition is - I know my wife would love to go if it’s any good,”

“I’ll give you a full review on Monday,” Ashley agreed, nodding.

“And a full review of your date,” Rod grinned.

“Okay, out, out. I need to finish these emails before I leave,” Ashley laughed.

“I’m going, I’m going,” Rod mused, “If you need anything, even an escape clause tomorrow night, send me a text, okay?”

Her heart softened a little at his kind gesture, and she found herself nodding. “I don’t think it’ll come to that, but thank you, I appreciate it,”

“Any time,” Rod nodded.

Ashley bit her bottom lip to hide her grin as he shut the door behind him on the way out, and the butterflies in her stomach were still there. Saturday night couldn’t come soon enough.

Tonight was the night. Ashley only had a few minutes left before her uber arrived to pick her up to take her to the museum, and she couldn’t resist having a final glance in the mirror by her front door. She’d had a little panic over what the hell the dress code would be for a gallery opening, but after Dougie confirmed it wasn’t black tie, just formal dress, Ashley had consulted with some of her college friends (who were buzzing about the fact that she was actually going on a date), and decided that a midi cocktail dress was the way to go.

And she’d found the perfect one.

The dress she’d picked out in a local boutique was a beautiful forest green colour, complimenting her dark hair and hazel eyes perfectly. It fell to the middle of her shins, as her friends had recommended, and had thick shoulders straps, no sleeves but a neckline with a deep enough v that it should a little cleavage (classy cleavage of course, very sophisticated in her opinion). Her favourite part though was the Marilyn Monroe-esque twirl to the skirt – something she’d tested out several times already – and she just felt glamorous in it. She’d straightened her usually-messy hair and put on a little make-up too, to match the effort she was making with the dress. To be honest, Ashley felt beautiful, and she honestly couldn’t wait to see Dougie’s reaction. It was a hell of a lot different to her usual Sunday Storm Surge outfits, that’s for sure.

Soon enough, her uber was pulling up outside of the Museum of Art, and she thanked the driver as she got out. Thankfully, Dougie was already waiting at the top of the steps for her, and the smile that he sent her way made her breath catch in her throat. Ashley took the time to check him out as she walked up towards him, and she felt those butterflies start up again. He was wearing a gorgeous navy blue suit with a white shirt and grey tie, bringing out the colour of his eyes beautifully, and the stunned expression on his face as he looked at her made her blush a little. That was a good reaction, right?

“Wow. You look…amazing,” Dougie murmured, looking her up and down with awe.

Definitely a good reaction.

“You look really good too,” she grinned.

Dougie grinned back at her, before offering her his arm. “Shall we?”

Ashley fought not to squeal as she tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. What a smooth move. “Lead the way,”

Dougie walked her inside, picking up a glass of champagne each after they dropped their jackets off. Then they were off. The two of them wandered around through the exhibition, Dougie guiding her and giving her the most indepth information she could’ve possibly hoped for. She’d never had such a personal tour like this, and he was so shy yet so knowledgeable that she couldn’t help but to drink up every word. This was what she had hoped for out of tonight, that passion coming through Dougie, and she was receiving it tenfold.

“This one is one of my favourites. Batoni’s The Triumph of Venice. There’s just so much going on, and I swear I notice something different every time I look at it,”

Ashley looked at the painting, taking in the many figures, the details, the colours, and couldn’t help but smile. It truly was a masterpiece.

“Oil on canvas? Maybe…early 1700s?” she guessed.

“Fuck that’s hot,” Dougie breathed.

He immediately flushed bright red, making Ashley giggle. Good to know that her vague art history knowledge was paying off. And that she could make him react like that…

“I love all the finessed detail in this one. Especially on the carriage – it’s exquisite,” Ashley murmured, looking back at it.

“Isn’t it?” Dougie grinned.

Ashley squeezed his arm gently, smiling up at him, earning a happy smile back. He was so clearly in his element, and she was loving every second. The way his entire face lit up when he talked about art…there was something just so beautiful in that. Those beautiful blue eyes were even more alive than ever, that spark of passion adding such a gorgeous element, and she really wanted to see more of it. That was a good sign, right? That she was already imagining more.

They moved on to the next painting, and Ashley’s breath caught in her throat. Wow.

“And this…this is the star of the collection. Giotto’s Peruzzi Altarpiece, the only complete altarpiece by the artist outside of Italy,”

Her jaw dropped a little. That was a big deal. “The only one?”

“The only one,” Dougie nodded.

“Holy shit,” Ashley mumbled, eyes wide.

Dougie grinned at her. “My sentiments exactly,”

“All of that gold. So much gold. And the details in their faces. Holy shit,” Ashley murmured.

“One of my favourite frescos, and I get to see it every day,” Dougie sighed happily.

“Well count me as jealous,” Ashley teased, nudging him with her shoulder.

Dougie just smiled shyly, rubbing the back of his neck. He was just so cute.

“Would you, um…would you like a new drink?”

“Sure, another couldn’t hurt,” she nodded.

It’s not like she drank champagne that often after all. And it was a special occasion…

They stayed in the museum for another hour, looking over some of the art again as well as mingling with Dougie’s colleagues (including a mostly silent guy Dougie introduced as ‘Foegs’, who gave Dougie a double thumbs up when he thought she wasn’t looking, and a very enthusiastic big blonde man named Jordie, who she learned was Dougie’s boss – which, wow). Their conversation just flowed, and the doubts that she’d had earlier were easily shoved to the back of her mind.

She’d never thought it would feel so natural spending the evening arm-in-arm with a guy, but Dougie had just blown her away.

All too soon, it was time to leave the museum though, and while Dougie got their jackets, Ashley opened her phone to request an uber. 5 minutes away. Perfect.

“I had a really great time tonight,” Dougie murmured, when they were waiting outside.

His own uber was only a couple of minutes behind hers.

“Me too,” Ashley admitted, smiling up at him, “Thank you for inviting me,”

“There’s no-one else I would’ve wanted to take. I just glad you enjoyed it,” Dougie smiled back.

“I enjoyed spending time with you. The exhibition was just a bonus,” she said softly, looking up at him through her lashes.

Holy shit she just flirted. Blatantly flirted. Too much?

But then Dougie blushed a little, before a small smirk spread across his lips. “Yeah?”

Ashley just bit her lip, nodding. Dougie’s blue eyes flashed a little darker, sending a hot jolt running through her body. Oh wow. Just like that huh. But then her phone buzzed, the uber car pulling up to the curb, breaking her out of her thoughts just before they started to spiral.

Calm down Ashley, it’s only the first date!

She waved at the uber driver to signal that she’d seen him before turning back to Dougie. “See you tomorrow?” Ashley asked hopefully.

“Yeah, I’ll be starting work a little later on the one off, as it was the exhibition opening tonight,” Dougie nodded, “I’ll be there,”

Ashley grinned at him, before leaning up and pressing a kiss to his cheek, laughing softly as his jaw dropped.

“Bye, Dougie,” she said softly, walking over to the car.

“Bye,” she heard him murmur, just as she closed the door.

“Hot date?” the uber driver teased.

“The hottest,” she grinned back.

That earned her a laugh, and she couldn’t help but smile as the driver pulled away from the curb. Ashley glanced out of the window, only to see that Dougie hadn’t moved at all – other than his fingers brushing over where she’d kissed his cheek, a hopeless smile on his face.

What a first date indeed.

To: Ashley

From: Rod

So how did the date go?

To: Rod

From: Ashley

The exhibition was incredible. You need to take your wife, for real.

To: Ashley

From: Rod

I actually meant the guy but sure…

To: Rod

From: Ashley

He was a perfect gentleman and…amazing.

You’ll get your full gossip on Monday.

To: Ashley

From: Rod

Boo fine.

I’m glad you had a good time though!

See you on Monday

“I had a really great time tonight,”

“Me too,”

“I had a really great time tonight,”

“Me too,”

“I had a really great time tonight,”

“Me too,”

Wasn’t the saying that if things seemed too good to be true, then they probably were not?

Ashley had gone to bed feeling over the moon, elated, bubbling with excitement. But when she’d woken up, it was like a dark cloud had settled over her, a heavy rock of anxiety sitting on her chest. Everything had gone so well last night. So well. Too well? This wasn’t the first time that she’d gotten her hopes up only to have things fall apart around her – and her hopes had skyrocketed last night. All she felt was like she was waiting for the other shoe to drop. And it made her feel sick.

That niggling negativity had swum around her brain over and over again, and she hadn’t been able to shut it off – not when she showered, not when she got dressed, and not when she sat on the sofa debating whether or not to actually turn up at the coffee shop.

Was this really what things had come down to? Tempted to break her solid routine, the exact routine she’d had every week, just because a guy made her nervous? Was he really that important? Was she really that much of a coward?

She sat on the sofa so long that she passed the time she would normally leave. Hell, she passed the time she would normally be sitting down at her usual table. Oh god she couldn’t take this. It was too much. Her legs bounced nervously as she pulled up the message thread she had with him, typing out a message to cancel…

…and then she deleted it.

Fuck that shit. No matter how anxious this whole dating thing made her feel, nothing was worth this. She couldn’t just not show up, that wasn’t right. That wasn’t her. Fuck this. As quickly as she could, Ashley grabbed her laptop and her handbag, driving as fast as she could to Storm Surge.

When she parked her car, she noticed that she had a few texts from Dougie. Oh god.

To: Ashley

From: Dougie

Hey, I’m coming a little earlier than usual today!

To: Ashley

From: Dougie

Are you running late?

To: Ashley

From: Dougie

Are you coming?

Oh god. Ashley winced, practically running to the shop, immediately spotting Dougie at her usual table in the back. The sheer relief on his face made her wince again. Fuck. His expression dimmed at little, but she quickly ordered her usual latte from Andrei, who looked an interesting mix of confused and concerned, but she headed over to Dougie without hesitating.

“Hey, um, sorry I’m late,” she murmured, setting her coffee and her laptop down on the table.

Dougie frowned at her briefly, clearly taking in whatever the hell her face was showing.

“Is everything okay?” he asked softly.

Ashley bit her bottom lip, hesitating. Might as well tell him the truth, right?

“I, uh, I was second-guessing everything?”

“Second-guessing?” Dougie asked, frowning harder.

Ashley just sighed. “Yeah, um, it’s dumb. I just…it all seems too good to be true? I woke up feeling like I’d gotten my hopes up and…fuck, I’m sorry. I just feel stupid now,”

Looking up at Dougie’s sad face immediately made her regret telling the truth, but it was too late now. Fuck. Why did she have to ruin everything? The fact that he was staying silent just made everything worse. Should she just go?

“What do you want to do now then?” Dougie eventually asked “or do you not know?”

Ashley swallowed heavily, looking down at her hands briefly. Hah. The million dollar question. “I know that I like you?” she offered.

Dougie huffed a laugh. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m not going to get mad if you don’t want to go on another date,” Dougie said with a sad smile.

Oh god that was worse. He should never sound that disheartened – it wasn’t right. And it was all her fault.

“Would you even want to go on a date with me again when I’m this much of an anxious mess?” Ashley sighed.

After last night, this really wasn’t where she’d seen her day going. Self-sabotage was a bitch. But it was her own damn fault. It always was. But then Dougie reached his hand forward, fingers brushing over hers lightly to get her attention, making her blush as he smiled a bit more genuinely.

“Yeah, I would like to,” he nodded, “I had a really great time yesterday night, and I still want more,”

Oh, so maybe she hadn’t ruined everything then. What? Well shit, she was grabbing this second chance with both hands.

“I had a great time too,” Ashley admitted, blushing a little bit more, “even with this stupid anxiety,”

“Good. That’s…that’s really good,” Dougie laughed, “well, not the anxiety part, but I’m going to prove to you that this isn’t just getting your hopes up,”

“I’d like that,” she murmured.

Dougie smiled at her, a truly genuine happiness, making her breath catch in her throat. Fuck she didn’t deserve this. But there was no way she was going to let herself ruin this, not now.

“Maybe we could just talk for a couple of hours before I have to go into work? Have some coffee, a couple of those delicious blueberry-lemon scones, and just see where things go?” Dougie suggested.

Ashley nodded, the tight ball in her chest immediately loosening. God, he was such a nice guy. “I’d definitely like to get to know you more,” she agreed.

“Scones are on me then,” Dougie grinned.

Hope. A second chance. Bring it on.

When Dougie eventually walked into work, his shared office had more people in it that he cared for. Well, okay, that was a little mean. But right now was not the best time for the combination of Jordie and Foegs as well as Sebastian and Teuvo, especially not when all four of them had met Ashley last night. Not when they were all so intense. Not while things were still so tentative.

“So, how did it go?” Jordie asked excitedly, “it looked like the two of you were having fun!”

And here we go.

“Well last night, at the exhibition, went really well, but…”

Jordie and Foegs frowned as he trailed off, Sebastian and Teuvo just looked confused. Dougie sighed and sat down heavily at his desk.

“She was really hesitant this morning. Like, so full of anxiety that she almost didn’t show up for coffee,” he admitted, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck awkwardly.

“What do you mean?” Jordie asked, tilting his head to the side in confusion.

“She thinks it’s too good to be true?” Dougie winced.

Foegs looked a little stunned, Jordie’s jaw dropping. But then Sebastian jumped to his feet from where he was sitting on Jordie’s desk.

“Well then you’ll just have to sweep her off her feet!” Sebastian said firmly.

Really? Dougie sent him an unimpressed look, but Sebastian’s pout stayed serious as Teuvo giggled.

“As much as I hate to say it, Sepe has a point,” Foegs shrugged, making Sebastian stick out his tongue at him, “the two of you looked like you’d really hit it off when we were all talking, and the fact that Ashley did meet you this morning means a little anxiety shouldn’t stand in the way,”

“Take her on another date. Wine and dine, man. It’s a classic for a reason,” Jordie added, nodding seriously.

Well shit, if Jordie was being serious then maybe it would work.

“Thanks guys,” Dougie murmured, smiling softly.

“Anything to land you the woman of your many dreams,” Jordie beamed.

Dougie just blushed. Sebastian wriggled his eyebrows, Teuvo just punching him on the arm. It was almost a nice moment.

He waited until Foegs, Sebastian and Teuvo had left to start working before he pulled his phone out, biting his bottom lip as he thought of what to say.

To: Ashley

From: Dougie

Hey, I’m glad I saw you today.

I hope you’re still doing okay.

How do you feel about getting dinner with me?

Dougie jiggled his leg nervously as he logged into his computer, waiting with baited breath for any reply.

And then eventually, his phone buzzed. Ashley. Thank god.

To: Dougie

From: Ashley

I’m alright thanks. That scone definitely helped ;)

I would love to get dinner with you.

Dougie couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. Good. This was good. They exchanged a few more messages, eventually figuring out that because of his next few late nights with the exhibition and her essays she had to mark, neither of them were really free until next Saturday. A whole week away again. Fuck. No, this was going to work. Dougie knew it was worth it – and if she needed him to text a lot over the next few days to remind her that he was all in, that he wasn’t just going to disappoint her like those other guys, then he absolutely would.

Wine and dine next Saturday. He could absolutely do this.

“Hey, what was the name of that place you took your wife out for date night a couple of weeks back?” Dougie asked, looking up at his boss.

Jordie’s face lit up. “Oh man, it was so good…”

As Dougie promised himself, they kept texting throughout the week. He told her fun stories from visitors to the exhibition. She told him silly comments her students made that she couldn’t respond to without laughing in class. He told her all about his time in Boston. She told him all about her time in New York. He sent her a picture of the cutest trio of dogs his neighbours adopted. She sent him a picture of a sunset that took her breath away. Things were…good. He was just glad that Ashley seemed as enthusiastic as she was before their first date.

All he could hope was that he was proving to her that he was different. That he was serious about giving their budding relationship a shot. He hadn’t bonded with someone as quickly as this, as deeply as this, ever – so he wanted to see where it went. The unknown with Ashley genuinely excited him, and he wanted her to feel the same excitement.

He could only try to be good enough to deserve her.

By the time Saturday rolled around, Dougie was a nervous wreck. He’d left work exactly on time for once, Jordie giving him a thump on the shoulder and Foegs a thumbs up (he mostly ignored Sebastian and Teuvo’s shimmies), racing home to change into a nice sweater and his favourite pair of smart jeans. Casual but like he cared about making an impression. That was what he was aiming for.

And then Ashley arrived 10 minutes early, just after he’d arrived himself, looking nervous but happy in the prettiest baby blue tea-dress he’d ever seen, with her hair curled and wearing a pretty pink lipstick. Wow.

“You look beautiful,” he blurted.

Oh god. Mr Smooth, again.

Ashley just blushed, smiling up at him. “Thank you. I love your sweater,”

Dougie blushed in return. What a pair they made.

“After you,” he said, opening the restaurant door for her.

As much as her anxiety had worried him, he was so glad he didn’t give up – she was absolutely worth it. They were lead to their table, Dougie being a bit extra and pulling out Ashley’s chair for her, but the giggle he got in return was what he was aiming for. Wine and dine. Sweep her off her feet. That’s all that he wanted to do, and if it was working then he wasn’t going to stop now.

“I was thinking we could split a bottle of wine tonight, if you want?” Dougie offered.

“Yeah that sounds good to me,” Ashley nodded, “Maybe a white wine?”

That was more than okay with him. Red wine made him a little…over the top? He definitely talked too much when he had red wine, he knew that much, and he wanted to save at least a little dignity tonight. Hopefully, at least.

The wine was ordered, and by the time they each had a cold glass of sauvignon blanc, Ashley looked as relaxed as Dougie felt. He could only hope the rest of this night turned out the same way.

“So did I tell you what one of Rod’s students said to him yesterday?”

Dougie grinned, shaking his head. “No you didn’t!”

Ashley grinned back. “Well…”

They talked for hours, sharing stories about their jobs, their interests, their families, not stopping when any of their three courses came, not hesitating even once. Nothing was awkward in the slightest – their conversation just flowed like they’d known each other for years, and Dougie’s heart was just so happy. This was everything he’d wanted for so long, someone he could truly been 100% himself with, and he couldn’t believe that she seemed as into him as he was into her.

How was this possible, after only two dates?

Time flew by so fast, too fast, and they did eventually have to leave their table, even as much as Dougie didn’t want the night to end. He just felt utterly consumed by her, completely and utterly lost in her very being, and he didn’t want this feeling to stop for anything.

It probably didn’t help that they’d split three bottles of wine though.

It wasn’t enough to make either of them sloppy drunk, not with the delicious food they’d eaten, but Ashley was definitely a bit more giggly than usual, and he was definitely smiling like an idiot.

“I wish your uber wasn’t on its way,” Dougie sighed, when they were outside.

“I’m actually not a far walk from here, so I was just going to walk home?”

At this time of night? Absolutely not! Ashley saw the look of indignation of his face and burst into laughter, making him blush (again). What? He wasn’t wrong for being worried about her getting home safely.

“You could always walk me home?” she suggested.

Oh. Oh. Oh yeah okay, he could do that.

“Yeah, definitely,” Dougie nodded quickly.

Dougie’s heart started beating a little faster as she looped her arm through his, and it was all he could do not to smile at her too helplessly. How did she manage to affect him like this? He’d never fallen so head over heels so quickly. And she seemed completely oblivious to how gone he was for her – in the most innocent of ways.

They walked slowly, leaning on each perhaps a little more than they would without the wine, but it just meant that they had more time for talking. Dougie was blissfully happy to let Ashley rant about the indignity of the black myth surrounding Eleanor of Aquitaine, taking in everything that she was trying to teach him. He loved how much she loved her medieval history, just like he loved his art. It was quirky and different and so unique to her. And honestly, he could picture them doing this together for years, discussing their passions and their love for their careers and…

“Okay this is me,” Ashley announced, breaking him out of his thoughts.

Dougie looked up at the old two-storey home with a smile. So this was her home. Pretty.

“That wasn’t so bad a walk,” Dougie grinned.

“I feel bad now though, making you get further away for your own journey,” Ashley frowned.

But Dougie shook his head. “It’s fine really. I’m sure there are plenty of ubers still running around here,”

“Well…”

Ashley trailed off, biting her lip, making Dougie smile. What was on her mind?

“You can stay, if you want?” Ashley said, a shy smile on her face.

Oh fuck. Stay? Ashley saw the shock on his face, before she blushed furiously, quickly shaking her head.

“I have a spare bedroom! I swear I didn’t mean it like that,” she groaned, covering her face with her hands.

Dougie couldn’t help but laugh, tugging her hands away gently. Not that he was opposed to…sharing a bed with her, but that wasn’t the vibe of tonight. Tonight was for building them up, getting them to a more comfortable level. And fuck did it feel good tonight.

Waking up to see her first thing in the morning would only be icing on the cake.

“I would love to stay, as long as you don’t mind,” he said softly, brushing his hand against hers.

Ashley inhaled sharply but nodded, wordlessly reaching in her handbag for her keys. They stayed silent as they walked into the house, Dougie barely moving a foot away from her as she showed him the kitchen, the bathroom and then the spare bedroom. He could do a proper tour in the morning, he knew that. He was just a little stunned that he was even still with her, to be honest.

“So here’s some basketball shorts that my cousin left last time he visited. I don’t have a shirt big enough for you though,” she apologised, handing him a soft bundle.

Dougie just shook his head, smiling. “This is more than enough. I usually sleep shirtless anyway,”

Ashley’s lips parted a little in surprise, her eyes glazing over slightly, making Dougie grin as she shook her head as if to clear it. Good to know he had that effect on her.

“There are spare toothbrushes under the sink from when I last when to the dentist’s office, so help yourself to whatever one?” she offered.

Dougie just nodded, squeezing her hand as he walked into the bathroom. He willed himself to retain at least a little bit of chill as he got changed, quickly washing his face and cleaning his teeth with one of the toothbrushes she’d offered. This was all still a little bit surreal, being honest. But he was going to seize this with both hands – this was a chance he was never going to get again if he fucked up.

Ashley couldn’t seem to keep her eyes off him as they swapped places in the bathroom, and Dougie tried not to grin as he flexed his abs a little, making her blush. He could have a little fun, right? Especially since he knew the boundaries he needed to stay behind, he wasn’t dumb.

By the time he’d put his phone on charge and folded his clothes onto a chair for tomorrow, and then headed back out into the corridor, Ashley was back, dressed in a cute little pair of shorts and a giant t-shirt. Oh wow, he could definitely imagine her wearing his t-shirt to bed one day. No, not the time!

“Hey,”

Ashley’s voice brought him out of his thoughts, and he couldn’t help but smile down at her.

“Hey,” he murmured.

“See you in the morning?” she said hopefully.

Like fuck he was going to leave. “Bright and early,” he nodded.

But when she didn’t go anywhere, her hand moving to rest on his bare arm, Dougie couldn’t stop himself from stepping towards her. Fuck. She inhaled sharply, but didn’t push him away, and that was all he needed.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked lowly.

Ashley’s lips parted in a soft gasp, but she nodded. “Yeah, please,”

Dougie raised a hand to cup her face, giving her one last out, but as she raised up on her tiptoes he didn’t hesitate any further. He leant his head down, and pressed his lips to hers softly, barely able to stop the moan that wanted to tear from his throat. Holy shit. Ashley clutched at his biceps, leaning up into the kiss even more, making Dougie’s head spin as he kissed her softly, slowly, over and over again. This was so not what he expected from tonight, or even hoped for, but fuck did it fill his body with butterflies. Holy shit, kissing her was everything. Eventually, he brushed his tongue against hers gently, before pulling away, knowing there was a stupid smile on his face.

“Wow,” he breathed.

“Wow,” she nodded, laughing softly, “That’s one hell of a goodnight,”

Dougie laughed softly too, pecking her lips in a soft kiss one last time before stepping away. She leaned against the wall, looking a little stunned, making him grin as he walked into her spare bedroom. If he didn’t walk away, he knew he would do something stupid to break them out of this perfect little sweet bubble, and that wasn’t what he wanted. Not tonight.

Tonight had been perfect.

Ashley woke up slowly, a little groggy, feeling like she was forgetting something. Then she heard the bathroom door opening, and everything came flooding back to her. Dougie was here. He’d stayed over after their date last night. They’d kissed. Holy shit. Holy shit. She took a deep breath to calm herself, fingers rising to her lips without a second thought, and it was all she could do to smile.

Dougie had kissed her. And it was everything.

She squealed softly into her pillow, feeling stupidly giddy, before quickly picking out a cute jumper and her comfiest skinny jeans to wear. She could hear him moving in the spare bedroom, so she quickly darted into the bathroom, washing and then brushing her teeth, unable to stop the smile that spread across her face at the sight of the toothbrush that Dougie used resting in the holder. There was just something about it that felt right.

She took a deep breath, running her hands down her sweater to smooth it, before she headed out of the bathroom and into the kitchen. It didn’t take long for Dougie to join her, and he accepted the glass of juice that she passed him with a smile.

“Good morning,” he murmured.

“Good morning,” she said softly back.

Dougie seemed to hesitate slightly, before his face became determined. She didn’t have time to ask him what was wrong before he leant down and pressed his lips to hers in a firm kiss. Ashley whimpered softly into his mouth, earning a soft noise back, and it was all she could do to clutch at his sweater. Holy shit. This was just as incredible and sweet as she remembered from last night. Wow. Dougie cupped her face with his free hand, thumb brushing over her cheekbone as he slowed the kiss down to a few gentle pecks, before he pulled away with a smile. Ashley just smiled back up at him, a little overwhelmed in the best way. Wow.

“Coffee shop?” he said.

“Yeah, if that’s alright,” she nodded.

He understood her routines. And he didn’t care that she wanted to stick to them. How could she not appreciate that?

Dougie just nodded in response, smiling as he sat down at her kitchen table, taking a sip of the juice she’d given him. “I wouldn’t mind changing out of last night’s clothes though. Not really my vibe,” he teased.

Ashley giggled, understanding perfectly. It wasn’t her vibe either.

“I could drive you over to yours, to get a change of clothes, and then we could head to Storm Surge together?” she suggested.

“Yeah? You want to walk in together like that?” Dougie asked, a little hopeful.

Holy shit, that would be one hell of a declaration. But…

“Yeah, I want that,” she nodded.

The grin that spread across Dougie’s face made the butterflies in her stomach worth it.

“Let me just put on some mascara and lipstick, and we can go?”

“Sure, whatever you want,” Dougie smiled.

Now that was a dangerous thought.

All too soon, Ashley was parked down the street from the coffee shop. She took a deep breath, Dougie sending her an encouraging smile, before she steeled herself and got out of the car. This was nervewracking. Storm Surge was her home away from home, her safe space, her comfort, and now she was completely changing the status quo. But as Dougie walked to her side, smiling down at her with such hope in his eyes, she knew it was worth it. He was worth it.

“Ready?” Dougie asked, holding out his hand.

Holy shit. Bring it on.

Ashley smiled up at him, taking his hand in hers, embracing the butterflies that came with the warmth of his grasp. They walked to the coffee shop together, Dougie squeezing her hand gently as she opened the door and walked through.

“Ashley! And…Dougie?”

Andrei’s gasp made her blush, Dougie just laughing. Then Andrei’s face broke into a huge grin, and he spun around.

“Marty! It’s happened! It’s finally happened!” Andrei yelled into the back of the shop.

What the hell?

A door slammed open in the back, and then Marty came barrelling out. He took one look at them holding hands before punching his fist in the air.

“LET’S GOOOO!”

Ashley flinched at Marty’s loud voice, but couldn’t help but giggle when he bounded over to Andrei, swinging an arm over his shoulders.

“Finally! Do you know how long we’ve been rooting for you two?” Marty beamed.

Oh god. Ashley blushed furiously, as did Dougie, and she couldn’t help but laugh. “Was I that obvious?” Ashley asked shyly.

“Both of you were. It was so frustrating but so sweet,” Marty shrugged, Andrei nodding enthusiastically in agreement. “We just hoped you guys would take a chance,”

Take a chance. Hah. That’s definitely a good way to describe it. And he was so worth taking a chance on. Dougie smiled fondly down at her, before pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

“Well I’d say our second date went pretty well,” Dougie said softly, squeezing her hand.

Ashley smiled back, nudging him with her shoulder, earning coos from Marty and Andrei.

“Okay, you two are giving me cavities,” Marty said cheerfully, not even slightly annoyed, “Coffee and anything you want to eat, on the house. I need to tell Slavs – he’s going to be thrilled!”

Ashley just giggled, leaning into Dougie’s body as she looked over the cakes and pastries on display. Being with Dougie, this fledgling relationship, was scary – but it was also so exciting. She couldn’t wait to see what happened next. This was the start of something amazing, she just knew it.

#my writing #winter gift exchange #hockeynetwork #dougie hamilton #dougie hamilton fic #coffee shop au #yes i do have a medieval history masters how can you tell?#mildly self indulgent and super fluffy & cute #the research holes i fell down were unbelievable - and yes all the courses and all the job titles are all real things #dougie hamilton x oc #dougie hamilton imagine #dougie hamilton fanfiction #hockey writing #hockey fic #hockey fanfiction #nhl writing #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction

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bi-writes · 4 years ago

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notorious: reboot — chapter eight genesis

This is our genesis, and ours only; once we start this chapter, what will end it?

type: series, alternate universe detail: mob!tom word count: 12.7k warnings: mature language and themes, mature sexual and nsfw content included in this chapter (oral fem!receiving, unprotected sexual content, overstimulation, cum play) series masterlist music playlist by mood, curated just for notorious

There were many things you could tell about a person from looking at their hands. They could be dirty or clean, adorned with jewels or nothing at all, nails painted or chipped or bare, cut or bruised or scratched or completely, utterly soft. Sometimes they wore wedding rings, sometimes they didn’t, sometimes they had ink circling around their fingers. Hands were interesting storytellers, and oftentimes you found yourself finding more about someone from the way their hands were kept rather than listening to them speak. Sometimes people lied. Their hands couldn’t lie, all they could do was simply be.

It was so quiet here. You could barely see anything in the darkness, but there was a sliver of light coming from the candle in the far corner of the room. The wax had melted almost all the way, the wicker barely lit, but it was enough that you could still see clearly what was beside you, who was beside you.

Your head was propped up on a soft pillow, but Tom’s hand was beside it, palm flat against the bed, and you could hear his gentle breathing. You brought your hand up to trace Tom’s knuckles, which were slightly split. They had bled, you could tell that much, and there were yellow and purple bruises dotting the dry, cracked skin there. His nails were well groomed, but you could tell he picked at them because of how his cuticles were ripped a bit, the edges of his nails a bit rugged.

Hands of a killer. So why doesn’t it hurt when he touches me with them?

You turned his hand over, following the callous along his palms. Blistering, dry, and used, Tom’s hands were a reflection of the dirty business you both had chosen to run in. It didn’t matter where you were in this business, it took something from each and every being inside of it. You and Tom were young, but you had been thrust into a world of secrecy and anarchy where your worth was determined by nothing more than where you stood in a line of hundreds, blanketed by tradition, ritual, and kings without mercy.

You had seen too much, but it was enough that you were numb inside at times. Death did nothing to you any longer. Blood was nothing but a stain, and guns were just accessories. Judges, cops, and lawyers were the men and women on your payroll, and funding amateur killers was just a part of your work. Love was a luxury, children became heirs, and money was your lifeline. One mistake could cost you your head, one wrong move could dismantle your operations, and without a throne to sit on, there was no need for you except to bleed you dry of what you had and to leave you for the earth to swallow whole.

Daughters become enemies.

Only ruthless, cold individuals that were truly dead inside could sit on thrones made of bones. You had to be willing to do anything to put the crown on, and even then, it could slip right off of your head in a moment.

Rivals become lovers.

You had never known anything else. You had never tried to be anything else. Your mother loved you, but she didn’t try and take you away from this life; she had thrust you into the world headfirst, and she made you who you were.

Sweet faces become killers. She made you a killer.

You wondered who had made Tom. Staring at the soft tufts of curls on his head, you wondered who had taught him to hold a gun, to point it at his target, and to not hesitate pulling the trigger.

You wondered what kind of burdens he carried on those broad shoulders of his. You wondered what hid between the curves of his muscles, what truly defined the scars along his back, and what kind of blood had been spilled against those crackling knuckles of his. You wondered who had taken the light inside of the little boy he had once been and crushed it. All kings and queens had lights inside of them once, even you.

We lose them, and then we spend forever trying to find it inside of others because of what is broken inside of ourselves.

There was a map on his skin. From the tips of his fingers to his toes, Tom had a map. Scars and the occasional tattoo, indentations and uneven patches of skin, defined muscles that ached and stretched and breathed. Some people were meant to be kings, and Tom was one of them, but there was a part of you that wished that Tom had never seen the metal of a gun or the inside of someone’s body or the way life left someone’s body slow, then quickly all at once.

I wish you never knew what it looked like when there were stars in their eyes, right before they saw a vast nothingness.

There were people inside of you, souls that wanted to be discovered, but you and Tom had buried them so deep that neither of you knew who they were anymore. Tom had mentioned once that he used to watch movies until his eyes were red from the glare of the television screen. He mentioned once that he had felt the vibrations from dancers on a stage, the echo of voices across the emptiness of a theatre, and he mentioned once that there had been light inside of him once when there were spotlights warming up that single spot reserved onstage.

Tom would never know that little boy. Tom would never see what that little boy could become, and he would never get to tell him that he was meant for so much more than this dirty, dirty business. There were songs inside of him, but he would never get to sing them, and for that, a part of you hated whoever had taught Tom to be who he was. They had robbed Tom of every good thing he could’ve been, and now here he was, with scars on his hands, cuts along his back, and a light inside of him that would never, ever be allowed to illuminate whatever soul was buried underneath all of the death and destruction he had built up for so long.

Boys become assassins, and girls become paper dolls.

You wondered if he would hate your mother for the same reasons.

You leaned over and kissed Tom’s forehead before slipping out of bed. You opened the door to your bedroom, going into the kitchen. You were at your apartment this time, and Tom had come with you that night, and he simply didn’t want to leave.

You and Tom had been through hell hours before, but there was something different between you now. There were no secrets between you, and now, it felt strange. For so long, you and Tom had been pretending, lying to each other and falling for each other at the same time.

One and the same.

It was still dark outside. The city lights glowed at night, so bright and awake even in the dead hours of night, and that was how it always was.

You noticed something by the door. There was a white envelope on the floor, as if someone had slipped it underneath the door to get it to you. You bent down and picked up the envelope, turning it over in your hands. The envelope was meant to be white, but it had yellowed from age, and it was dry and crinkly in your hands. There was no return address, just a scribbling on the back in handwriting you thought you recognized but couldn’t decipher.

my baby is all the back read.

You slipped your finger into the opening, ripping the envelope open. Inside was a letter, written on blank copy paper. It was written in scribbly black ink, smeared occasionally, as if it had been written in a rush. You looked around, to see if anyone was around, because it felt as if you were being watched. The apartment was quiet, and there was nothing around you.

You looked back down at the letter, opening it up all the way, smoothing out the folds.

To the only love I’ve ever known,

I don’t know when you’re going to be given this letter. I don’t know if you’ll ever receive it, but if I never write this, then there is a chance that you will never know the truth. I can’t leave this place knowing you might always be kept in the dark.

There is too much I’m going to miss. I tried to do right by you all these years, but now I fear perhaps I’ve just given your father the weapon he’s always needed. He has no ambition, none at all, to do right by his men. Your father is a coward, and he always will be. He takes advantage of even the most precious things in his life, and he has neglected you since the day you were born.

There is going to be a day when he needs you. There is going to be a day when your father will not be able to say no to you, and that day I fear more than anything else in this world, even death. I tried to give you the tools you would need to succeed, but I fear that my time has run out to finish the difficult job I started with you. I’m not finished. I want to keep doing more for you, but my time is running out, and even writing this letter is wasting what little I have left, but I need you to know the truth.

Your father will never understand what it takes to run this kingdom he’s built. I have tried for years to get him to listen to me, but anything I say, he ignores. One day, it’s going to get him killed, but that is the least of my worries. My worry is what comes after, what continues after your father is gone. As much as he wants to pretend it isn’t true, you are going to be the one sitting at the desk. You will be the one left when the dust settles.

I dreamed of being able to sit there myself. When I lived in New York, I was used to being the princess. After marrying your father, I had to get used to being what was left behind. My hatred for him grows every single day, and if I had it in me, I would be done with him. It would be him instead of me, but I’m not meant for those kinds of things. It isn’t in me, and I don’t think I’ve ever been meant for this kind of life. I hate myself for getting involved, and even more, I hate myself for bringing the most beautiful angel into this life.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry I did this to you. I should’ve left, I always knew I should’ve left. I should’ve taken the only good thing to ever happen to me and dragged her far, far away.

I planned on letting you live a normal life. Your father never wanted you to follow in his footsteps, and I planned on letting you grow and learn and go to college and live the normal life that I always dreamed for you, but you were my only hope. You were the only weapon I had against your father, and I’m sorry. What I did was selfish.

I made you like this because I wanted you to be better than him. I wanted you to be better than all of them. Everyone in this world is lonely, ugly on the inside and out, and incredibly stupid. They lack all the good qualities that soldiers should have, because that is what living in this hell is like. You will always be at war, and I wanted you to always have the tools to survive in the disgusting world that these men have built for us.

I needed you to be better.

Your father tonight is going to tell you that I left. You are going to find the drawers of my clothes empty, you are going to find most of my things gone, and you will never see me again. He’s going to tell you that I went far away, perhaps, maybe even to the fucking moon. Your father is going to tell you a lot of things tonight.

All of them will be lies.

Your father is going to kill me tonight, and I’m going to let him, because if I don’t, you will never become who I need you to be. I’m being selfish again. I fear I might hate him more than I love you.

Don’t trust him. Ever. Even if he seems like he is on your side. He will never learn until it’s too late, and by then, nothing will be able to save him. It’s you, and it will always be you, and I hope he dies knowing it.

He doesn’t deserve you. And he never has. He never will.

I love you more than anything in this world.

mama

You put the letter down slowly, running your hands through your tangled hair. Your hands were shaking a bit, and you felt like there was something stuck in your throat, making it hard to breathe.

She made your bed. Now you have to lay in it.

You picked up the letter again and went into the bedroom. Tom was awake, sitting up against the headboard, an unlit cigarette in his mouth.

“Was wondering where you went,” Tom said lowly, striking a match to light the cancer stick. You came towards the bed slowly, still holding the letter, and Tom finally looked at you, standing there with a strange look in your eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“This…this came. Someone slid it…u-under the door,” you said softly, putting the letter onto the bed. Tom switched the lamp on, and he picked up the paper, holding it in front of him. He took the cigarette out of his mouth and let out a slow breath, his eyes running over the page. The silence was killing you.

“You said your mum disappeared,” Tom said finally, tapping off a bit of ash.

“That’s…that’s what my dad told me,” you whispered, sitting on the edge of the bed. “It’s why I left New York. Why I left…Ri.”

It changed everything. It changed me.

“Your mum says otherwise,” he muttered, narrowing his eyes. “Is this real? Do you believe this? I mean…who would just put this under the bloody door? How could this just appear on your doorstep? Timing is right suspicious, don’t you think?”

“It’s my mom’s handwriting, Tom, I’d know,” you said defiantly, taking the letter back. You folded it up again, putting it into the bedside drawer. You slid back into bed, scooting close to Tom. He put his arm around you, letting you lay your head on his chest. You were silent again, the room was silent again, and it was enough time for you to have a single tear falling down the length of your cheek, your whole body feeling cold all over.

“Your father’s a lying twat,” Tom scoffed, and you stared off into the distance.

“He killed…my mom,” you said weakly, and Tom stubbed the cigarette out, putting a hand to your head and kissing your forehead. It was tender, but it was not warm enough to stop the tears that followed quickly behind, dropping silently onto the pillow. “H-He killed her, Tommy.”

And she killed me.

You weren’t sure how to feel about the letter. Your father had told you your mother had left, that she was gone, and even though you knew that those kind of antics could never be that of your mother, you believed him, or at least you forced yourself to believe him.

Because you weren’t ready to face any other alternative.

You had cried over her, mourned over her, and then you had let her go. Part of the coldness of your personality was trying to steel yourself from losing anyone else. You distanced yourself from Mariposa after, changing your number and refusing to go back, making it your mission to focus all of your pent-up anger and aggression and sadness to becoming whatever kind of heiress your father needed you to be.

Nothing in that letter was really a surprise to you, but it felt like a slap on your face knowing it came from her. Your mother had truly seen through every single lie, and just like your father, she had used you to do her bidding. She made you feel like she was on your side because she needed you to be somebody for her. A secret weapon, a key hidden under a mat, an iron sword that had rusted over and been long forgotten. She had been waiting for the perfect moment to polish you clean, reveal you to the world, and she stepped face-first into death to do it.

She can call it whatever she likes. She can call me a savior, a soldier, a daughter. I suppose mothers use their daughters just the same; this business rubs off on even those we admire. On those that we think we love.

“He made plans with you, yeah?” Tom asked gently. You blinked, coming out of your thoughts. “Plans for Saturday night, didn’t he?”

You nodded slowly, “yes. We made plans for…how it would go, yes.”

Tom smacked his lips a bit, clenching his jaw. “You’re going to tell me every detail, y/n. Don’t leave anything out, no matter how small or insignificant you think it is. I have a feeling your father is going to fuck the both of us over. And we’re not letting that happen, yeah?”

Has it rubbed off on you, Tom?

“Yeah,” you breathed. “Okay.”

Will you use me just the same?

Tom moved your head, making you look at him.

“You and I, love,” he murmured, and you nodded again, putting your hands over his. You shared a tender kiss, and you pulled away with a smile on your face. The lack of distance made you warm all over. Tom knew everything. There was nothing black between you, nothing holding you both down. You had been so lost before, and there was an uncertainty that weighed inside of you. You weren’t sure how to deal with your father, to deal with whatever feelings had grown in you, and although you had worn a straight face, there had been nothing but panic in you.

There was nothing to be afraid of anymore. Tom had you, closer than he ever had you before, and you knew he wouldn’t let go. Tom was going to take care of you, and you had to trust that, because otherwise, you were as dead as you were the day before.

“You and I, Tommy,” you said softly, and skin against skin, you knew he had you, because you could feel the tenderness in his touch. There was nothing to fear anymore. There was nothing worry about.

Because I am yours. And you are mine.

You met his eyes in the mirror. He looked incredibly handsome, freshly showered and smelling sweet, a beautiful suit on him. He was wearing black tonight to match you, and he ditched the tie and unbuttoned his dress shirt underneath, just enough to see a glimpse at the chain he was wearing. You remembered when you and Mariposa used to get ready like this, smiling at each other in the mirror, but now it was Tom, and he wasn’t shying away from checking you out. He was adjusting the watch around his wrist, his dark eyes running up and down your figure.

“You should close your mouth, baby,” you said softly as you smoothed out the front of your dress. “You’ll catch flies.”

Tom chuckled lowly, shaking his head, and you hiked up the skirt of your dress to slip your thigh holster on. He clenched his jaw at that, and he couldn’t help himself. He came close to you, pressed up against you from behind, and you bit back a smile as he smoothed a hand down your back, over the curve of your hips.

God, who said she was allowed to look like this?

“Jesus, fuck,” Tom muttered, watching you secure the gun underneath your dress. “Couldn’t get any more beautiful, and then you pull shit like this.”

“Shut up,” you laughed a bit, putting your dress back down, much to his dismay. “Now you’re just saying things because you want something.”

The word was in the air, but Tom pretended not to see it. He liked the chase. He had never had to chase anyone before, but it was fun. Having you so close yet so far away made him ache all over, but the look in your eyes told him it would be worth it.

Tom grinned at you in the mirror, “of course not, love…never. I’m simply commenting on how absolutely mad you drive me when you do things like this. If it happens to turn you on…” Your smile broke out as he kissed the side of your neck, “perhaps it’s just a bonus.”

You let Tom tilt your head to the side more, let him kiss the skin there. There was something possessive about it, and after a few minutes of wet teasing with hungry kisses, you pushed Tom off of you and grabbed your jacket, laughing to yourself.

Tom guided you to the elevator of your building, and he kept a hand on the small of your back as you walked. He always kept a hand on you now, a sweet, small detail that you appreciated. You both got into the back of the car he ordered, and while you sat on opposite ends, he had a hand on your knee as he looked out the window.

You remembered meeting Tom here. As he helped you out of the car, the familiar doorman gave you and Tom a nod as you passed the line. Tom went for your hand this time, and you looked down in surprise as he intertwined your fingers. You bit back the smile on your face as he led you by the hand. His touch was warm. You liked this, more than you thought you would.

People had always talked about you being Tom’s girl, but the label always made you spit at them. You had a name, and you expected them to use it. You didn’t need to be behind a man for it to mean something, for you to matter, and you made that clear from the beginning. Tom liked that, he knew from the start that he adored your independence. It was attractive and fresh, and for once, a woman with personality had stood up to him, and she was absolutely full of fire. It was one of the reasons he fell for you so fast and so hard. You were beautiful like that, always steady on two feet.

A queen, Tom had thought to himself. A righteous queen, and her eyes are hungry, just like mine.

You noticed Mariposa wasn’t at the table. Harrison was sitting there, and he looked incomplete without Mariposa beside him. He looked on edge, staring out into nothing, and he was bouncing one of his legs impatiently.

“Harrison,” you greeted him as Tom shooed his brothers to the side for room to sit in the booth. “Where’s Ri?”

Harrison sniffed a bit, shaking his head, “don’t know. She was supposed to be here a few minutes ago,” is all he answered. You let go of Tom’s hand, and at that, his head turned to you.

“I’m going to go take a lap, yeah?” You assured them. Tom tugged you back with a hand on your wrist, and you were surprised when he put both hands on your face, capturing you in a kiss that caught you off guard. The boys at the table shifted nervously as you kissed, even Tom’s men watching intently as you embraced without shame. Eyes closed, hands in your hair, Tom had you in just a few tender kisses, lowering yourself to sit beside him to give him a better angle. Harrison smirked a bit as he watched, shaking his head as Tom licked over your bottom lip dramatically. Tom pulled away casually to light a cigarette, letting you go finally, and you sat there dumbfounded for a moment, taking deep breaths as you fought the smiling growing on you.

“Be careful,” is all he said, his face unbothered as he reached over and took a sip of Harrison’s drink. You stood up on two feet again and smoothed out the front of your dress, avoiding the knowing looks from Tom’s brothers.

You left the table to make your way around dancing, sweaty bodies and through flashing lights. You were looking every which way for her curls. Maybe she got held up at the bar, or there was a line for the ladies room.

That’s a stupid thought. There are no lines for Holland girls.

You spotted her curls finally, done up in a glamorous bun, strands of her dark ringlets falling to frame her pretty face. She had her legs crossed, showing off the sparkling heels she always wore. You knew they were hers by the scuff at the bottom of the heel. She had been wearing the same stilettos for months, a gift from Harrison, and she never wore anything else, despite having a closet full of shoes. You followed the curve of her bare arm, adorned with a few golden bracelets and her fingers decorated with rings to match. Her nails were long and manicured, a deep red color that she always preferred. She had a fierce smile on her face, fluttering her long lashes as she spoke to whoever was across from her, and you could tell she wasn’t flirting by the way she sat up straight.

Mariposa had two ways of talking to men. The first way was distracting them, and she would twist her curls around her finger and lean forward so they could peek down the neckline of her top. She was beautiful, and they would always stare, and she would always get what she wanted. This time, she still had her jacket on over her corset top, and she was talking, her eyes narrowed and her posture straight and tall to convey her confident nature. She was saying something that was meaningful, and whoever was across from her needed to listen to whatever she had to say.

You came closer, and when she noticed you, her entire face fell, and she paled a bit. You stood at the end of the table, and you blinked when you noticed who was sitting across from her. You almost pulled the gun out from under your dress, but laughing voices from the table over reminded you where you were. There was nothing you could do but hope the candle on the table caught the sleeve of suit on fire and consumed his deranged soul in a fiery death.

“y/n—” Mariposa tried to explain, but you caught her off.

“Johnny boy,” a bitter smile grew on your face. “Mmm…you love being in places you don’t belong, huh?”

His eyes brightened a bit when he saw you. He looked older, much older than you last saw him. His face had sunken a bit, maybe a few more wrinkles there. His eyes were still bright and green and warm, and his hair had darkened just a bit from the dirty blonde it used to be. He still kept his hair a bit greasy and slicked back, and he still wore suits that were too big for him, a watch you knew he couldn’t afford, and a smile on his face that didn’t belong there.

Giovanni was the Sicilian man your father always wanted you to end up with. You called him Johnny to insult him, because you always knew how much he hated being American, and he preferred being called by his name in Italian. You refused him that, always calling him “Johnny baby, Johnny boy,” and each time making him angrier than it had the time before. He didn’t even know how to speak Italian. He was always trying to impress those above him, and your father was the man whose ass he kissed most frequently.

When he should’ve been kissing yours.

Your fears about an arranged marriage were valid. When your father told you the news about your mother and you had hurried back to California, mourning your mother wasn’t the only thing your father expected of you. When you had left for New York, your father knew you as someone that liked to get in trouble but would fall in line if he needed you to be. He had no idea what New York had done to you.

You knocked on your father’s study door, adjusting the leather jacket over your blouse. When you heard his voice, you came in, your boots sounding on the creaking wooden floorboards of the old house, an awkward sound in the deep silence that surrounded the walls of his office. You stood there frozen as the door closed behind you.

Your father was standing up from his seat behind the desk, De Luca beside him, and his lackeys lined up along the walls. Giovanni stood there in front of the desk, his own father holding him there with a hand on his shoulder. You brushed your hair back a bit, coming forward to stand in front of the desk.

“What’s going on, daddy?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest. “You called for me.”

“Well, y/n…things have been complicated in business lately,” your father explained, gesturing big with his hands. “We lost 20% of the ports in Italy because of some of the raids, and Giovanni’s father has generously agreed to get to work on acquiring the land back again on a few conditions.”

“That’s great,” you smiled bitterly. “What does that have to do with me?”

The men in the room shifted a bit, and you looked around at them all, turning back to your father when you had read the room enough.

“Oh, daddy,” you let out a breath. “No, you didn’t.”

“You know, y/n, there are things we do for business that make—”

“20%?” You scoffed. “That’s what you value the rest of my fucking life? My life is worth 20% of your Italian coast, yeah?”

“y/n—” Your father was mortified. He had never heard you speak like that, nor talk back to him like that. here were a lot of things you learned how to do in New York. One of those things had been to use your voice. You weren’t a little girl anymore, and you were adamant on standing up to anyone that got in the way of your interests.

Giovanni? That was against your interests.

“No,” you interrupted him. “Find another way.”

“There is no other way,” your father growled. “I made my deal, now it’s your turn, y/n.”

“y/n, c’mon, I’ve known you as long as I can remember,” Giovanni spoke up, coming close to you. He even had the audacity to put his arm around your waist, pulling you towards him. You looked up at him, your mouth opening in disbelief, and you felt his fingertips digging into your back, slipping under the fabric of your jacket. “It wouldn’t be so bad, yeah? Can’t say you haven’t thought about it.”

He was grinning, like he had won something, and you scoffed a bit.

“You’re right, Johnny boy, I have thought about this,” you leaned forward a bit, your face close to his. You moved your arm around to put your hand over his on your back, and you smiled sweetly at him before grabbing onto his wrist and twisting his arm enough to hear something crack in it as you pried him off of you.

Giovanni screamed loudly, and your father put a hand to his forehead as you held Giovanni by his arm still, holding pressure there as you continued to pull at his arm. You turned to his father, narrowing your eyes.

“Make a different deal,” you demanded. “Now.”

“You can’t just—”

Giovanni screamed in agony again as you pulled back his arm, using your leg to kick Giovanni onto his knees.

“Make a different deal,” you said again. “Or I’m going to make sure Johnny can’t even wipe his own ass again.”

“God, Dad!” Giovanni cried, doubling over as you held onto his arm. “Fuck, just do it, Christ!”

“Son—”

“Do it, do it!” Giovanni begged as you heard something crack violently as you bent his arm just a bit more. You were using the heel of your boot now, and using the weight of your body, you strained the length of his arm, the sounds only making your point more serious. “Jesus, fuck!”

“Perhaps, Mr. y/l/n, we can decide on a price instead.”

Giovanni walked around with a dislocated shoulder and broken fibula for months. Your father was furious with you, but he had no right to be. You had been so insulted that your father thought he could get away with something like that, and for a while, you made his life a living hell with his business partners. You had one message to get across to your father.

Don’t ever try and control me again.

You weren’t going to roll over and obey like the rest of his men. You had a purpose, not a position, and marrying you off to a misogynistic bastard wasn’t going to work. It was the beginning of your pursuit to be heard and seen, not used. That beginning had your father thinking twice about whether or not to barter you off like property, and it had started the growing, fiery mutual hatred between you and Giovanni.

You never expected Giovanni to grow a pair and come all the way to New York to entice you, but Giovanni was also absolutely terrible and would do anything to try and get the upper hand on you. He had been for years, and you were foolish to think he’d stop now.

“Hey, baby,” he greeted you, his eyes darkening and falling over the length of your body. He whistled a bit, lowly, rubbing his chin. “New York has done you well, y/n. Is this your new look now? I like it.”

“Ri, I think you should get a refill,” you said firmly, grabbing the glass of wine out of her hands and downing it. You handed it back to her, empty, and she stood up slowly, her fingers wrapping around the stem of the glass as you sat across from Giovanni. “Go on.”

Mariposa looked between you two before walking away, and Giovanni followed her, his eyes watching her as she disappeared into the crowd.

“Hmm…I see you and Miss Muñoz are still friendly,” he winked at you, “and I can’t blame you. I mean…fuck, look at her.”

You scoffed a bit, “you’re still as much of a dickhead as I remember. Whose ass did you kiss this time to get yourself here?”

Giovanni tsked, “y/n, don’t be that way. I came all this way to see you, I thought you’d be happy,” he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “I wanted to see my baby girl before she got all done up…all ready to take on Holland territory. I mean, that’s why we’re here, isn’t it? Gonna marry that piece of shit, aren’t you?”

You tapped your fingers on the table, clenching your jaw, “you know, I don’t remember my father inviting you in on family matters,” you smiled knowingly at him. “I don’t ever remember one of his…lackeys being in on operations like this. I seem to remember that only people that matter, only people that could contribute, got to sit it on important meetings. It’s bad for business when men at the bottom know about things like this, so I’m sorry, Johnny baby, that information is…classified.”

He laughed a bit, licking his bottom lip with a roll of his eyes. “Your father promised me a lot of things he’s yet to deliver on. Maybe bringing me with him is how he plans on giving me what I deserve finally.”

“Promises he had no way of guaranteeing,” your eyes were sparkling. “My father was simply mistaken, and he had to learn from those mistakes.” You stopped tapping your fingers, tilting your head to the side as you met his eyes and didn’t back away from his glare. “I do as I please, Johnny. Nobody tells me what to do, nobody can.”

“And what are you doing here?” Giovanni raised a brow. “You’re nothing but a whore for your father, letting the Hollands degrade you…all for your dad to get New York again, I think that’s what he said.”

You sniffed a bit, shifting in your seat, leaning forward more.

“If you think I’m a whore, then you’re as blind as you were years ago,” you said lowly. “That’s not how it works here. If I ask something of the Hollands, they do it for me. And no, it’s not because I sleep with any of them. It’s because unlike daddy’s business, where boys like you are running errands, there’s only men here, and they don’t ignore women because their dicks are too small.”

Giovanni snickered a bit, “you know, I don’t think I would’ve liked to have you as my wife anyway.”

You smiled a bit, gripping his collar and pulling him close. “You’re right, Johnny. I wouldn’t want to embarrass you in that relationship.” He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as you licked over your bottom lip. “You know…cause my dick is so much bigger than yours.”

Poking at his insecurities was always your defense because it worked every time. Giovanni was the equivalent to a child and commenting on the size of him always seemed to get him angry enough to do stupid things.

Giovanni stood up abruptly after you let him go, but he was forced back into his seat when he bumped right into Tom. The color ran out of his face when he realized who he was in front of, and he scooted back into the booth, away from him, and Tom snatched the drink right out of Giovanni’s hands, tipping his head back and swallowing it all. You bit back the smile on your face as the glass hit the table, and Giovanni was visibly sweating.

“Mm…” Tom scrunched his nose. “Vodka and seltzer? What a terrible choice in liquor, mate.”

“Holland,” Giovanni straightened out his jacket, and you saw all the fight drain out of him. Intimidated by Tom’s glare, he held out his hand for Tom to shake. “I’m…Giovanni. I work for y/n’s father.”

“Mmm…so you work for y/n,” Tom corrected him, and Giovanni just pursed his lips. You watched as Tom pulled a chair out and took a seat, spreading his legs a bit as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and slid some matches your way. You stroke one of the matches, leaning over to light it for him, and you dropped the match into Giovanni’s glass. Tom took a few puffs of the cancer stick before passing it to you, letting you take a drag.

Giovanni watched the entire time. His eyes darted between you and Tom, watching intently as you both looked at one another, as if you were communicating silently, understanding one another.

“He just came to say hello, Tom,” you said finally, letting out a breath of smoke, and Tom turned to finally grace Giovanni with his eyes. He leaned back in his chair, holding the cigarette between his index and forefinger as he looked Giovanni up and down.

“Oh, to say hello, eh?” Tom was taking up space with the way he sat, knowing exactly how to intimidate others just by the way he positioned himself. “Mate, I can’t help but notice the way you look at y/n. I think…” he leaned forward and blew a breath of smoke into Giovanni’s face, “you should have more respect for my fiancé. Because being disrespectful to my fiancé means you’re disrespecting me, and I don’t bloody care for men that don’t respect me, do you understand what I’m saying?”

Your heart tightened a bit in your chest. You didn’t need Tom to stand up for you, and he knew that, you had been doing it for months yourself. But hearing him do it anyways, it was sweet. You had yet to hear Tom tell you that he loved you, but there was no denying it now, not here.

Giovanni shifted in his seat, brushing his hair back. He nodded finally, fiddling with his fingers.

“It wasn’t…it wasn’t like that,” Giovanni assured him, his voice breaking, and Tom tilted his head to the side.

“Are you calling me a liar?”

“No! N-No,” Giovanni shook his head adamantly, “I meant…y/n and I, we go…we go way back. We’ve known each other a long time.”

“I see,” Tom laughed a bit, looking between you and Giovanni, his smile so sinister. Giovanni laughed with him nervously. “I see, so…because you and y/n know each other, it’s alright for you to act like a bastard, yeah?”

Your eyes glowed as you watched Tom break Giovanni down like a wall made of glass. Giovanni was scared, and you adored seeing him like this. You adored Tom, who was spitting venom in his ear, all for you. You couldn’t do much except stare at him lovingly.

“I think…you should apologize,” Tom said finally, and Giovanni gaped at Tom, blinking in disbelief. “I think your father would appreciate that, wouldn’t he, darling?”

“Mhm,” you agreed, standing up. Tom brought his hand around your waist as you took a seat in his lap, and he passed you the cigarette as you met Giovanni’s eyes. “Let’s hear it, Johnny. What do you have to say to me?”

Giovanni was proud, so proud. He had an ego even bigger than Tom’s, and he hid behind your father to throw insults at you. But here, in New York, your father wasn’t in charge anymore. What a Holland said was how it went, and there was no viable contradiction to it. Your father was not here to back up Giovanni and his unrealistic desires, and Tom was in your corner now.

I am yours, and you are mine.

Tom squeezed your hip, kissing your bare shoulder before trailing up and planting soft kisses to your neck. You smiled at Giovanni, reaching up and tangling your fingers into Tom’s curls to encourage him. Your eyes were dark and alight with contentment, and Giovanni could do nothing anymore. You were untouchable here, and there wasn’t a thing he could do to bite back at you.

“I’m sorry, y/n,” he hissed through his teeth, and you blew Giovanni a kiss.

“Mmm…submissiveness suits you, Johnny,” you purred, standing up from Tom’s lap. You tapped off the cigarette as Tom stood up from his seat, straightening out his suit. “Tell daddy I said hello, and that I hope all is ready for tomorrow. Nine o’clock, right?”

Giovanni grimaced, biting back the words he was dying to say to you, but Tom was still listening, a look on his face that dared him to open his mouth. Giovanni simply nodded slowly, and you stubbed out the cigarette onto the table, tossing the ashes at him. Tom watched as you started walking away, smirking as he took a handful of your ass in one hand, following you. You let him, licking your bottom lip as he squeezed, and you grabbed onto his hand as you backed up into the wall, bringing him with you.

“Thank you,” was all you said, and Tom just pursed his lips, glaring down at you. He wasn’t angry, that wasn’t it. If he was, he would’ve gotten you both alone, in private, and he would’ve told you exactly what he wanted you to hear. This was different. He was seething, his chest rising and falling heavy, but he wasn’t angry.

“Who was that?” Tom demanded, touching under your chin. He wanted answers, clearly. You smoothed out the collar of his dress shirt, fixing it over his jacket. You sighed a bit, shaking your head.

“Nobody,” you said softly. “One of my father’s…I don’t even know what to call him. Tried to marry me off to the guy once upon a time,” you were pulled away from him abruptly as he pushed away from the wall, “wait, Tom—”

Oops.

You sat in silence in the car, sitting on opposite ends in the backseat, but this time, Tom didn’t have a hand on you. He was staring out the window, bouncing his leg, a hard look on his face as he ran a hand through his hair, fluffing the curls out of the product that kept them tidy. Tom had been acting this way all night, something itching at him, something bothering him, and it kept his head preoccupied.

“You didn’t care to tell me about that fucking tosser, eh?” Tom asked finally, his voice hard. You took a deep breath.

“Tom, honestly, I didn’t think I’d ever see him again,” you explained, shaking your head. “I definitely didn’t think my dad was going to let him go on a trip with him, especially here, when we’re getting…married and all.”

Tom laughed a bit, “you know, y/n, I thought we were on the same page. I thought we were going to stop fucking lying to each other when the situation at hand is so fucking sensitive, that I could lose my bloody head!”

You scrunched your nose a bit as he raised his voice, and you smoothed out the skirt of your dress.

“Tom, I didn’t know,” you said again, sighing. “He surprised me just as much as he surprised you. Don’t yell at me.”

You rode in silence again, staring down at your painted nails as the car stopped and drove in the congested Midtown traffic. After a few minutes of Tom silently brooding, you were taken back when Tom reached over and grabbed both sides of your face, pulling you to him and kissing you hard. It was the same way he always touched you, always grabbed you, where his fingers slightly tangled in your hair and his palms were warm against your face and his grip was tight and firm. He pulled away shortly, licking over his bottom lip as he stared down at you. The touch of his rings cooled your face just a bit, but you still felt hot all over from his kiss.

He pulled back completely and sat straight again, resuming his previous position. He didn’t say anything or acknowledge how passionate the kiss had been, and you were grateful, because you were still recovering from it. You turned away from him, reaching up to touch your lips, and you smiled to yourself. Tom wasn’t upset with you; no. Tom was jealous.

When you looked down at your hands again, you paid attention to Tom’s diamond band, still on your ring finger. He had yet to get you an engagement ring or something of your own, but he never asked for his ring back, and you continued to wear it. Smoothing your finger over it, it was almost symbolic. You had taken it right off of Tom, but he was content in you having it and keeping it because he trusted you.

Because he loves me.

You hoped everything of his was that way. Once you took his name, you would have a whole other position to take on, a whole other empire to think about. He would give it to you, but there was no tension or fear between you because he trusted you, and you trusted him. In just a few days, you and Tom were not just business partners with benefits. You were connected to him, and he was connected to you, and nothing in your life had ever felt so seamless, so complete. It had to stay that way.

It just has to.

You turned your head to look at Tom. He was still looking out the window, but his nervous leg had stopped bouncing, and he was still, his legs spread a bit as looked at the city that belonged to him. His jaw was a bit hard, and he kept flexing and unflexing his fingers, curling them into fists and out of them. His mannerisms were calm and slow, but something was bothering him still. Perhaps the same thing that was bothering you.

From the moment you met Tom, you knew he was going to be hard to resist. You were a woman, and women had needs, of course they did. Tom was insufferable, a complete arrogant, egotistical, and excruciating pain in your ass, but God, was he beautiful and God, did he dress well. Tom exuded the money he made, he cleaned up like it, and he acted like it. You had always hated that personality in the men you met, but for Tom, he did egotistical and arrogant far more sophisticated and far subtler. He was good at being bad, he was good at being rich, and there were days when you just wanted to slam the door to his office shut and force him against it.

I mean, aren’t you marrying him?

Truthfully, you had no idea what you were doing. You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment, shaking your head. It wasn’t the time to think about those things. You and Tom had work to do, and none of it involved ripped clothes and tangled sheets.

You’re trying to merge kingdoms, not get hot and heavy with him. Focus.

The car stopped, and Tom opened the door. He stood on the sidewalk, waiting for you, and he held out his hand for you to take. You intertwined your fingers, and Tom shut the door behind you, helping you onto the sidewalk. You looked up at your apartment building for a moment, and even though there was a chill outside, you kept Tom there, not moving from your place on the sidewalk.

Tom sighed, letting go of you for a moment to light a cigarette. He took your hand again as he put the lighter away.

“What is it, y/n? What do you have to say?” Tom asked, as if he knew there were words itching to be spoken. You swallowed a bit, stepping closer to him. You reached for the ring on your finger, taking it off and holding it up for him to look at.

“Is this…what are we doing?” You wondered, a bit breathless. “Tomorrow, we’re supposed to…get married. That was the plan, it was always the plan, but…things are different now. There’s no secrets, Tommy, that changed things.”

“Nothing’s changed,” Tom countered, and you pursed your lips.

“You’re an idiot if you think nothing’s changed, Tom,” you argued. “I just…I just want the truth, Tom. That’s all.” You met his eyes, shaking your head. “I just want to know that…even if being married to me isn’t what you want, that…that you’ll still have my back.”

Tom let out a slow breath of smoke, away from you, before taking the ring out of your hands and putting it back onto his own finger. Your face softened a bit, and you swallowed hard, trying to fight down the feeling crawling up inside you.

No, no, no.

Tom reached into his suit jacket, pulling something out of one of the pockets. You looked down as he opened his palm, and you let out a shaky breath as you saw it. There, in his hand, was a thin solid gold band with a single rectangular diamond. He took your left hand in his, dropping the cigarette and stubbing it out before slipping the band onto your ring finger. You had nothing to say as he brought your hand up to his lips and kissed your knuckles before intertwining your fingers again and tugging you towards the building.

The silence told you enough. Tom had always planned on going through with it, and even though neither of you were sure about the future, you were sure about each other. Tomorrow night, you would marry him, and he would marry you, and even though both of you would be pretending, the vows would be real.

The beginning would be true.

You punched in the code for your door and used the key to unlock it, opening it. Tom held it open as he came in after you, and Tom shut the door as he backed you up against it, resting both of his forearms on either side of your head. You swallowed hard as you met his eyes, barely able to see him with the lack of lights on. The moonlight peeked in through the windows, but it was only enough to see half of his face.

“Tom,” you said finally, “what are you—”

He captured your breath in a kiss, pressing you up against the door. You dropped your purse onto the floor, hearing it clatter as you wrapped your arms around Tom’s neck, pulling him closer to you. He nipped at your bottom lip, enough that you let out a little laugh. All the tension in your body rose as one of Tom’s hands left the door and came up your neck, wrapping around your throat, gripping it firmly.

Oh, you have me, Tommy. I’m all yours.

You swallowed again, something dry, as Tom’s thumb trailed along the length of your jaw and up, tracing the outline of your lips. His touch was soft and hot, and his eyes were watching your reaction. You didn’t move, not at all, not until his thumb went into your mouth and you could wrap your lips around it, your eyes going up to meet his again.

“I’ve seen a lot of things tonight I wish I hadn’t, y/n,” Tom said lowly, chuckling darkly. “And you with that bastard was one of them.”

So jealous.

You gasped a bit as his grip on your throat tightened, forcing you back into the door, his wet thumb rubbing along your chin now.

So possessive.

“Bloody disrespectful that was,” Tom’s lip twitched angrily, and his eyes were so dark, you couldn’t see anything in them. “But you know what pushed me over the fuckin’ edge tonight, darling, eh? You know what it was?”

All mine.

When you didn’t answer, Tom shoved you into the door, your head hitting it a bit hard, and you grunted a bit, letting out a few heavy breaths. You were shivering all over from his touch, thinking about the last time you were underneath him. This time, just his fingers wouldn’t be enough, you knew that much.

“It was you, y/n,” Tom breathed, shaking his head. “You, thinking that I didn’t want you as my fucking queen. And it got me thinking, love.”

You let out a harsh breath as he shoved his knee between your legs, his thigh just ghosting the place you needed him the most. If you weren’t wet before, you were drenched now, hot all over, and completely shivering. Finally, Tom Holland had you at his mercy. He was enjoying every second of it.

Every curve, every dimple, every piece, it’s mine.

“It got me thinking that perhaps you don’t bloody understand what you mean to me,” Tom murmured, licking his lips. “But you will, darling. You’ll understand. I’ll make sure that you understand.”

You cried out in surprise as Tom gripped you by the waist and turned you around, pressing you up against the door again. Your cheek rested against it as he pressed his hips into your backside, dipping his head to the crook of your neck as you felt him, hard and strained against the zipper of his trousers, all for you. Tom kissed under your ear softly, his breath warm as he dragged his tongue up the length of your ear and kissed the edge of your earlobe.

“You’re a princess today, y/n,” he growled. “And tomorrow, I’m gonna make you a bloody queen.”

With everyone on their knees for you.

You were rendered speechless. Tom was whispering in your ear, his hands were falling down your sides, and you were completely, utterly useless. You whimpered as he gripped the hem of your dress and hiked it up, his hand cupping one side of your ass generously, squeezing. He almost moaned himself seeing the holster strapped around your thighs, your gun nice and snug against your leg.

“Bloody fucking hell,” Tom chuckled. “Look at you, darling…” You leaned your head back against his chest as you felt his fingers tug at the lace of your panties, moving between your legs before he touched between your thighs. He whistled a bit, lowly, “shit, baby, you’re bloody soaked…”

That was an understatement. Your panties were ruined.

“God, Tom—”

“You’ve wanted this,” he observed, gripping the waistband of your panties and sliding them down your thighs. “You’ve wanted me, sweetheart, but you never said a word. You don’t have to hide anymore, y/n. If I’m going to be your husband, you’ve got to be honest with me, eh?”

You couldn’t concentrate as his hands moved between your thighs, and you cried out a bit as he spanked you firmly. Your head was spinning, all you could think about was the ache between your legs and how hot your whole body felt. You knew you were dripping when Tom grasped the handle of the gun, pulling it out of its place and unbuckling the holster so it fell onto the floor. The metal was so cool and hard against your skin, and you froze as he released the magazine from it, the bullets scattered across the floor now. He dropped the gun, and it clattered onto the floor.

God, he’s going to make me come, and he’s barely touched me.

“Answer me, y/n. You’re going to be more honest with me about what you want, yeah?” Tom demanded. “If my wife is bloody needy,” you groaned as he tangled his hand into your hair, forcing your head back again, “if my queen wants something from me,” you sighed with relief as he kissed your neck, “I expect her to say so.”

My wife.

“Yes, Tommy,” you cooed, and you felt him smile against the skin of your neck.

“Good girl,” he whispered in your ear, and you had to bite back a moan. You felt so submissive, so out of your element, but you had never adored the praise more than right now. This was the attractive, hot, kingpin that the city was afraid of, and he was calling you his good girl, his princess, his queen, and you didn’t realize how much you loved being worshipped until right now. You didn’t realize how much you needed someone to take care of you.

You closed your eyes as Tom started to kiss over the back of your neck, one hand sliding up your waist again as the other toyed with your clit, circling it gently just to keep you occupied as he felt up the body he loved more than any other. He had his eyes closed, and he was trying to memorize the curves of your skin, how often your breath skipped as he touched you, how warm you were. You smiled a bit as he fingered the zipper of your dress.

“Go ahead, Tommy,” you said softly. “I want you to.”

Good girl.

Tom unzipped the back of your dress, his knuckles dragging along your spine as he did. His touch was electric, each time his skin met yours was like a bolt of warmth that cascaded all down your back. You closed your eyes again as he began to kiss down your back, butterfly kisses trailing from the back of your neck to between your shoulder blades to the base of your spine, a trickle effect of shivers moving through you. Tom got down onto his knees behind you, and you groaned a bit as he bent you at the hip a bit. He put both hands on your ass, kissing the skin there, biting even.

“You couldn’t get any more beautiful,” he said lowly, and you let out a soft whimper as you felt his curls tickle your skin. It wasn’t long before your knees began to give out, an involuntary response as Tom dipped his head between your legs, his tongue poking out from between those wet lips to slip inside you.

“God, Tom—” You gasped, holding onto the wall for support. Tom put one hand on your hip to steady you and used the other to touch you teasingly. He started out slow, lapping through your folds, humming as he collected the sticky, sweet wetness onto the surface of his tongue, swallowing before delving in for more. With two other fingers, he massaged your bud lovingly, coaxing the most beautiful moans out of you. Tom was smirking like a bastard when he noticed your knees were shaking a bit, your body trembling as you gave into the sensation. “Tommy—”

“Mmm…you’ve got such a sweet cunt, darling,” he murmured, kissing your thighs, his voice a bit muffled against your skin. “Bloody wonderful.”

You leaned your head back, one hand leaving the wall to grab at his stiff curls, pulling on them hard. Tom chuckled a bit, his lips wrapping around your clit, his tongue moving in rhythm as he slipped two fingers inside of you, stretching you nicely, making your eyes roll back in your head as you rocked your hips a bit, feeling a sweet knot forming in your belly.

“Mm, princess, you’re so bloody tight, yeah?” Tom breathed, pulling away to catch his breath. “You’re close, eh?”

“Tom, Jesus!” You squealed, forcing his head back between your legs. “Don’t stop, what’s w-wrong with you?”

Tom didn’t stop. He stood up from his knees, grabbing you from the waist and hoisting you up into his arms. You held onto his neck as he carried you into the bedroom, setting you down on the bed as he shed his suit jacket and kicked his shoes off. You stopped him from moving too fast, slipping your heels off before sitting up on your knees on the bed, tugging Tom to you by the fabric of his shirt, meeting his eyes as you slowly unbuttoned his dress shirt.

Tom undid the clasp of his watch, tossing it onto the floor on top of his jacket. He undid his cufflinks as you finished undoing the buttons of his shirt, and you slid the fabric off his shoulders, revealing his muscular torso. You couldn’t see much in the dark, but your fingers ghosted over flexed muscle and soft skin, and you let out a breath as you scratched down his stomach. Tom was a sight for sore eyes, and despite the scars and marks that you could feel, his skin was the most kissable surface you had ever seen.

“It’s alright, love,” a gentle noise escaped you as Tom gripped your chin hard with one hand, the other unbuckling his belt and working on his trousers. “I know…it’s hard to fathom how fit your husband is, isn’t it?”

“You’re not my husband,” you said defiantly, and Tom clicked his tongue.

“After tonight, m’love, you’ll never need anyone but me.”

“Bite me, Tom.”

“With pleasure.”

You heard the fabric of your dress tear as he pushed it off your shoulders roughly, grabbing the hem of it and shimmying it down your hips. He forced you onto your back so he could pull it off and toss it behind him, and Tom grinned as he looked down at you, scooting back on the bed as you kicked your panties off your ankle. There you were, like an angel sparkling in moonlight, all bare for him to admire.

All fucking mine.

He caged himself over you, getting on top of you, and you cupped his cheeks, kissing him warmly as you both settled back against the pillows. Despite how dominating Tom could be, this was gentle, this was sweet, and there was no rushing now. Tom brought you up to sit, rolling over until you were straddling his waist, his back against the headboard as you both kissed warmly, your thighs still shaking and damp from Tom’s unbelievable mouth. It wasn’t long before your fingers were threading through his curls again as you grinded down on his lap, chasing your high even though Tom had yet to remove his boxers.

He wasn’t stopping you. Both of his hands were on your bare back, his palms pressing you close as you moved your hips, both of your mouths still focused on each other, kissing, biting, breathing. You were chasing a high that Tom had denied you, not caring how desperate you looked as you leaned your head back and moved.

Your moan was feverish and shaky as you came, falling onto his chest for support as your hips slowed their pace. Tom gripped you by the hair and flipped you both over, getting on top, and you reached down between your grinding bodies to feel the front of his boxers, feeling how damp and sticky they were.

“Mmm, did you make a mess, baby?” You teased, and Tom pulled at your hair roughly, and you smiled at that, to his delight.

“Aye, you bloody adore that thought, eh? Getting me off without so much as fucking touchin’ me,” he chuckled a bit, and you hummed as he grabbed your leg and wrapped it around his waist securely. You held onto him as you felt the tip of him against your thigh, warm, wet, aching to be touched. You stared right into his eyes as you lowered your hand, finding his cock and wrapping your nimble fingers around him, your lips parting as you felt him for the very first time.

Tom gripped one side of your face hard as you stroked him, your fingers exploring the parts of him you had been deprived of for too long. Tom was lengthy, hard, and throbbing, and he thought you were being cruel with how slowly and tenderly you were touching him.

“Look at me,” you breathed, and he grunted as he met your eyes again, licking his lips as you slowed your fingers around him. You leaned forward, giving him a kiss beside the mouth before kissing him firmly, hotly, sloppily. “I’m going to make you unstoppable, Tommy. I know what you want, baby, and I’m going to give it to you. You want the world, Tom, and I swear…it’s yours.”

As if I’m not already fucking hard for her.

You couldn’t remember how long you kissed for, but your lips were swollen, red, aching by the time Tom gripped your hips and pushed into you. You arched your back at the feeling, still sensitive from your previous orgasm, but that didn’t stop Tom from sinking into you slowly, not stopping until your hips touched. You clawed at his back, your nails digging in hard. Tom didn’t move, but you could feel him pulsing, aching, dying to do something, anything.

“And I,” Tom sucked at the skin at the edge of your jaw, taking the skin between his teeth as he kissed to nibble and bite, “I’m going to give you the fucking power you deserve, princess.”

What I deserve.

You moaned in his ear as he finally lifted his hips, grunting as he pressed his body as close to yours as possible, the tip of his cock grazing somewhere inside of you that had you crying out in pleasure. Tom grabbed your face again, holding it tight as he moved his hips against yours, watching as your mouth gaped open wider and wider as he found his rhythm.

“Everyone is going to know your name, y/n,” Tom growled, rutting his hips up into yours, his breath faltering when he could feel you tightening up around him. “You’re going to be a fucking Holland, aren’t you, love?”

“Yes!” You gasped, dragging your nails down his back.

“Say it,” Tom gripped you by the throat this time, forcing your eyes on his as he quickened his hips, starting to lose control. “Fuckin’ say it.”

Mine.

“I’m a—” You moaned loudly as he dug his fingers into your hips, a forceful grip that had you shaking all over. Tom was relentless in his drive to get you seeing stars, and the tip of his cock was hitting the same sweet, aching spot over and over again inside of you. Once he found it, he didn’t stop searching for it, his focus solely on making those sweet eyes of yours milky and white with pleasure.

“Say it, princess,” Tom demanded, becoming breathless and hot as he moved on top of you. There was sweat lining his forehead, and your nails dragging along his back had become clammy with the sweat dripping down the length of his spine.

“I’m a Holland!” You cried out, biting down on his shoulder, and Tom slowed his pace a bit, picking you up until you were upright with him. You put your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself, leaning your forehead against his as you both moved as one, your hips meeting deliciously, getting faster and sloppier every second you both held onto to one another. Tom was hitting deep inside of you, and you needed to feel more, you had to feel everything, because it had been so long since you had felt anything.

All mine.

Tom smoothed his hand up and down your back, your panting breaths mingling as the pace quickened again, the knot in your stomach building up sweetly and intensely. Tom was fucking you raw, and you were loving every single moment of it.

“I need you, Tommy,” you breathed, and he nodded in response, not stopping the quick thrusts he had built up so well.

“I know,” he whispered, pulling at your sweaty hair, hugging your chest close to his. Skin on skin, the only sounds being Tom’s cock moving between you and your sweet breathless moans as you held onto him. “Be a good girl for me, y/n.”

You whimpered as he said it again.

Good girl.

It was a command you couldn’t help but obey. For so long, you had tried so hard to be anything but good. Good never got you anywhere, and no one cared about good girls, no one in this business listened to good girls. They ignored good girls, tossed aside good girls, killed good girls.

But here, now, in this bedroom, Tom needed you to be good, and it wasn’t because he wanted to toss you aside, it was because he needed you to be good to give you whatever you wanted. Tom didn’t need you to be good for anyone else except for him.

Your whole body froze as you came around his hard length, your hips stilling and your voice faltering as your vision turned a bit blurry for a moment. Everything was so silent and pleasurable for just a few moments, Tom’s hips slowing their pace but not stopping as he reached his own high. You gasped a bit as you felt him, filling you up and almost making you collapse. It was almost like a second high, feeling him like that, and Tom had to hold you upright as you tried to swallow down all the wonderful feelings inside of you.

You both panted hard, sweaty and exhausted, but neither of you wanted to move. Tom’s cock had softened, but you stopped him as he tried to pull out.

“Just a minute,” you breathed, closing you eyes. “Just…wait.”

The truth was that you had never felt more vulnerable or closer to anyone than this moment. You wanted to hold onto it for as long as possible. Tom nipped at your neck as you relaxed in his lap, and you let out slight gasps as he moved every once in a while. Finally, slowly, you urged him to pull out, and Tom was quick to collect everything dripping onto your thighs and slip those fingers into your mouth, watching you hungrily.

“You’re mine, y/n,” Tom said finally, brushing the hair out of your eyes. You looked down at him, perched on his lap, and you nodded slowly. “Your father is going to have to pry you out of my dead bloody hands to get to you, yeah?”

“Don’t say things like that,” you whispered, shaking your head. “The only way we get out of this, Tommy, is together.”

“You and I, love,” Tom echoed, his forehead against yours again. He left a chaste kiss on your lips. “My ride or die.”

“Two sides of the same coin,” you cooed, and Tom leaned in close enough to kiss you again.

“One and the same,” you both said at the same time, smiling wide at one another, so enamored with each other that it was frightening.

You tried to remember how Tom looked like this. His handsome features only lit by moonlight, the sweat along his brows, the smile ghosting his swollen lips. Tom was pretty in this light, almost gentle, and you adored being able to see him like this. No one else would ever be able to admire him in this light, and you didn’t care if it was selfish. You didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, and you tried so hard to swallow the fear in your throat. Tom couldn’t know how nervous you were, how scared you were. You had to show him that you were capable of doing this for him, that you had it in you to sit on thrones that weren’t made for you and to take on challenges that were never designed for you to succeed. You had to be better. You had to be more.

You need to be you.

Tomorrow would be the first chapter in a book you had never planned on writing. For so long, you were sure about where you were supposed to stand, but now you were struggling where to even put your feet as every step felt shakier than the last. Looking into Tom’s dark eyes, you were certain that this was the calm before the storm. Time and time again, your father proved he couldn’t be trusted, and there was something inside you that knew even the things he told you must’ve been a lie.

“He will never learn until it’s too late, and by then, nothing will be able to save him.”

Your father would only see through you. He would never be able to see you for what you were. You would have to take everything from him because you were certain that he would never give you what you were promised. You would have to take it, and you were relying on Tom to be there to catch you when you did.

“It’s you, and it will always be you, and I hope he dies knowing it.”

This had to be the beginning, your beginning. It couldn’t be anything else. This love, this happiness, it all had to be for a reason, and the right reasons. You had fought so hard to get here, to finally feel in control, and finally, someone was looking at you. Tom was looking at you, and he was in love with you, and you needed to protect it from the world that you were never meant for. You knew it would do anything to tear it away from you, to make you believe that you weren’t worthy of it all, but you had to be better. You couldn’t let this be anything more than the start. It couldn’t be the beginning of anything else. Not the beginning of losing, not the beginning of being alone, not the beginning of the end.

It has to be the beginning of me.

read chapter nine

#wowie its here #i hope it was worth the wait #tom holland imagines #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fic #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland au #tom holland series #tom holland x y/n #mob!tom #tom holland smut #thnsfw #notorious

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thesentientelf · 5 years ago

Text

Flat White

Charlie Barber x Reader (kinda?) 3rd person. 12.7k. NSFW

Ok, here’s the deal. I don’t write fanfiction anymore. I sure don’t write smut anymore. This is Hope’s fault, ok? She posted a Thirsty Thursday prompt that led to this Coffee Shop AU that plagued me so bad it culminated into this.

And I have no shame. Well, actually a lot of shame, considering this is the first time my writing has seen the light of day in six years.

@callmehopeless, I hope your happy. I’m so sorry your eyes must lay sight to this.

It was a cold morning in New York, the bitterness set in as Charlie Barber walked frozen city streets. Cell phone was pressed to his ear with his shoulder, and lips pursed as he scribbled notes into a small pocket book. He looked up periodically, making sure he wouldn’t run into others traveling opposite, and brown eyes focused on both his book and the concrete as he tried to avoid icy patches in his path.

“Alright, thanks Mary Ann. I’ll be there soon,” he said, quickly bidding goodbye as he tore the sheet of paper from his notebook. He tossed his phone in his jacket pocket, notebook following it, and then took a sharp turn left as he headed towards the coffee shop everyone in the theater crew loved so dearly. He gazed up at signs, and then once it came into view, darted left and opened the door with gloved hands.

The intoxicating smell of fresh brewed grounds hit and warmed his nose, thawing him to his core as he unfurled the scarf from his neck and went to stand in an ever growing line at the register. He stared at his scribbled notes of everyone’s drinks, mind lost in a world of his own as his own writing sent him to a different plane.

“What can I get started for you?” The voice startled him to attention, and he glanced up and searched for whoever caught his eye.

He froze. Sparkling eyes stared back at him, bright smile catching him off guard as he stared at the woman with her arms crossed on the pastry display with her chin resting on her wrists. Her hair was pulled up out of her face, and her smile made him stop.

Oh, his heart fluttered. Oh, this was bad.

“I have a list,” he said, suddenly breaking himself from the daze he put himself in. He fumbled with the paper, stepping up to the register and pulling his gloves off his hands. He handed her the paper, now crinkled in his hand, and gave her a smile. “I’ve got eight, uh actually nine. Can you add a flat white to that?”

“Sure. And the name?” Bright eyes looked from him to the list, and he blinked several times before he again managed to unstick himself.

“Charlie.” He flashed her a smile, hands fumbling at his wallet in his back pocket.

“Sure. Jared will ring you up,” she said, taking one last look at the list before handing it to her coworker at the register.

Charlie paid quickly without a word, and then stepped to the side as he watched this woman work. He caught himself staring, and then sheepishly looked down at his feet. Eyes caught the gold band on his finger, and heart sunk.

He’s with Nicole. It didn’t matter if their marriage had been on a downward spiral, he was still married. He probably shouldn’t even be admiring her from a distance, let alone from over the counter that separated him.

He cleared his throat, shoving his hands into his pockets as he waited patiently. He rocked on the balls of his feet, long fingers toying with the gloves in his pocket. He couldn’t help but watch the woman work behind the counter, moving so fast he didn’t even see her finish his massive order. Before long, she was scribbling names on the side of cups, not even needing the reminder of his list he handed her. Before long, she caught his eye as she headed to the counter top with two drink holders full of mismatched sizes of coffee balanced in one hand, the other holding the odd one out.

Eyes darted to the floor when their eyes met, and he sheepishly smiled as he took one large step to meet her at the counter.

“You have a good day, alright?”

Her voice caught him off guard again, and there was that smile that could drop him to his knees. She wasn’t from here, didn’t sound like a New Yorker. He smiled, and took the drinks from her, fighting a flinch as he brushed her hand in the transfer. He smiled in return, barely scraping out a ‘you too’ before lingering his gaze for one second too long as he headed for the door.

He balanced the drinks as best he could as he exited, a smile on his face that wasn’t there when he first walked in, and a warmth in his chest he couldn’t quite pinpoint to the heat of the coffee shop. Feet guided him to the theater company not far up the street, and quick steps took him swiftly as he didn’t want the drinks to go cold before he even got to the building.

He pushed the door open with his back, and darted into the theater, already running late. He bolted through the hallways, and then smiled at his team as he met them in the auditorium.

He handed Donna the carriers, and took a sip of the coffee in his cup as he tore his scarf from his neck. Even untouched, it needed nothing. It wasn’t too bitter, and it was just like he never knew he wanted.

“Damn, Donna, you were right,” he muttered under his breath before he set it on the lowest rizor. He took the carriers back, and started to pass them out. “This coffee’s good as shit.”

Brows furrowed when he saw how beautifully written the names were, and he smiled at the little drawings with each name. Frank had a crescent moon on his black coffee, Donna had a small flower on her cappuccino, Nicole had a smiley face on her macchiato. Mary Ann’s cat face made him chuckle, and Beth had a different flower than Donna’s.

He glanced down at his cup, heart stopping when he saw a heart drawn beside his name. He smiled, and immediately tried to suppress it when he felt Nicole look over his shoulder.

She said nothing. His smile dropped.

***

“Come on, Henry, we’re already running late,” Charlie said, hand firmly grasping his son’s as they walked through the city streets. He adjusted the bag thrown over his shoulder. He had toys for Henry, and a pile of his own work he needed to get done.

“Why couldn’t I stay home with mommy?” Henry said, gaze down at his feet as he dragged his shoes against the concrete.

“Because mommy has to run errands, and daddy has to go into the theater for a little bit today, and then we’ll go see a movie, ok? You can play on the stage if you want, I know that’s your favorite,” Charlie said, gazing down at his pouting son with a scowl on his face. He hated lying, hated concealing that he and Nicole had yet another fight about her going to L.A, another fight about the impending divorce that they were careening towards, and that he truly didn’t know when she would finish packing for her move to California. “Come on, you always like playing on stage.”

“I know, but I want to stay home.”

“Well that’s not an option today, ok? We won’t be there long,” he said, large hands leading his son towards the coffee shop on the corner. He walked in, nose filled with the smell he loved oh so much.

“Hey Charlie!” He wasn’t even in the door before he heard her greet him. He looked up and smiled, heart warming at her toothy grin and bubbly face. He’d been there just about every day for the last two months, and she always greeted him so warmly every single time.

“Hey-” he said her name like a song, flying from his lips. “Just me today, you don’t have to make everyone’s.”

“Flat white, coming right up,” she said with a smile, tilting her head to the side. Her bangs fell in her face, and she brushed them out of the way as she turned to grab a cup. “Is that your kid?” she said, glancing over her shoulder as Charlie walked up to the register with card in hand.

“Yes, this is Henry. Can you say hi to the coffee lady?” he said, gently tugging on his son’s hand as he pulled him into view.

“Hi, coffee lady,” he said, less than enthusiastic as small hands grasped the counter he peered over.

“Hi Henry. Do you like hot chocolate?”

His eyes brightened as he nodded wordlessly, and Charlie almost laughed at how excited he was. She did laugh, and shot Charlie a smile as he handed his card over to Jared to pay, other hand stuffing a twenty clipped with a sticky note with her name on it in the tip jar. He always left her one when he visited, regardless of if he bought one cup, or eight.

“Whipped cream?”

He nodded even faster, and Charlie chuckled and shook his head as he guided his son out of the line. He watched her work, heart fluttering as his mind went off in a different direction completely. Sometimes he would come here to work on new plays, or just to get away from the stress at home. She was always here, always talked to him when he would sit at the bar right in front of the machines she expertly worked, always laughed at his jokes.

He’d never felt more alive watching her. Sometimes he wondered if he was just another tip in the jar, or someone she genuinely enjoyed talking to. He smiled as she approached, bracing for his fingers to brush hers, because it always sent a shock down his spine. Brows furrowed when he realized she had two cups in hand, one his large flat white, and another small cup. She drew her finger to her lip, eyes sparkling as she handed Charlie his drink. She leaned across the counter and whispered a ‘hey kiddo’ to Henry.

He perked up and eyes grew wide as she handed him his own cup.

“What do you say, Henry?” Charlie said as he nudged his son.

“Thank you, coffee lady,” he said, grin on his face as he grasped the cup with both hands. Charlie reached for his wallet, but she shook her head and put up her hand, again placing a finger to her lips to keep him quiet.

“Thank you,” he said, running a hand through Henry’s unruly hair. “Wait, don’t drink it yet, bud, it’s hot,” he said with a chuckle as Henry put the cup to his lips. He looked back up, enamored as she reached over to ruffle the hair on Henry’s head, a chuckle on her lips as she watched his happy smile. “I hope you know you spoil me, right?”

He caught her eye as she headed back to the next drink order, a sheepish smirk on her face as she glanced at the ticket, red hue creeping up her neck.

“Anything for my favorite customer,” she said, unable to look him in the eye as she scribbled the name in sharpie. He swore he saw her lose her breath, and teeth scrape at her lip. She set the cup on the counter to grab another, and Charlie glanced just long enough to see her handwriting a mess, and not a single drawing on the paper. He looked down at his cup, seeing her signature flawless cursive with a heart, and now another one dotting the i in his name. A smirk curled over his lips, he stood frozen to his place as his heart fluttered in his chest.

And then it sunk. He was still with Nicole. He felt guilty, shivered the gross feeling off his skin, and then held out his hand for his son to take.

“Thank you,” he said her name with a smile, hands grasping Henry’s as he headed towards the door.

“See you tomorrow, Charlie! Bye Henry, it was lovely meeting you!” she said with a wave.

“Bye coffee lady!” Henry said, making Charlie chuckle as they walked through the doors. He inhaled the cold, bitter air, and like magic, it was like life was sucked from him again. Smile fell, teeth grit together, and one hand flexed at his coffee cup as the other readjusted his grip on Henry’s hand.

“Dad, it’s hot,” Henry said, sticking out his tongue as he reeled back from trying to take a taste of his hot chocolate.

“Well yeah, buddy, that’s why it’s called hot chocolate,” he said with a chuckle as they headed towards the theater. “Is it good?”

“Yeah! It’s better than mommys,” he said, going back to take another sip. “It’s got….cimnimon?”

“Cinnamon?” He chuckled as his son went for another drink.

“Yeah, that.”

“Don’t tell mommy that, she might not be too happy,” he said, putting his elbow out to open the door to the theater. “And don’t tell her, but mine is better than mommy’s too.”

***

Charlie once again walked the same familiar street, dressed in the same familiar suit, in the same familiar city. Part of him was glad he was home from the disaster that was LA, the other part missed his son so deeply that nothing could put a smile on his face.

He was running late again, having just stepped off the plane at the airport before heading directly for the theater, his safe haven. It was much needed, especially after his trip. But first, he headed to that same little coffee shop down the street, the one slice of heaven he could always count on healing his hurt soul. Fingers fumbled with the tip he already had saved in his pocket, nails playing with the paper clip that held her name to the bill. He smiled as he walked through the doors, but then it immediately turned into a frown.

Her familiar face wasn’t there, and his brows furrowed as he took another hesitant step inside. Gaze darted, searching, seeking, praying. He needed her smile, her soul healing cup she always made him. He needed her laugh, her silly stories that put his aching heart to ease.

He approached the counter, frown still plastered across his lips. “What happened to Y/N?” he asked Jared, still grabbing his wallet from his back pocket. He knew he had the orders stuffed somewhere on him.

“She moved to the early morning shift a week ago,” he said, fingers tapping at the screen before Charlie even got his list out. “She got another job, had to change her hours.”

“Any idea where?” The question slipped from his mouth before he could catch it, and he shook his head as he realized he didn’t have his crew’s orders on him. He froze. He never needed to remember them. She always did it for him, never even asked anymore. He’d walk in the door and she was already making them. “Never mind, sorry. Uh, I’ll be right back, I have to go ask my guys what they want,” he said with a faked chuckle.

“She wrote it down for me a week ago in case you showed back up,” Jared said with a smile.

Charlie froze. “Oh…” Fingers stuffed the twenty wrapped in a note back in his wallet, and he fished out the cash for his crew. “Th-thank you.”

“No problem. It’ll be right out.”

Charlie, in a daze, stepped to the side, hands slowly folding his wallet back up as he moved to the coffee bar. He sat on a stool, fingers tapping against the granite as he waited for his drinks.

He took in a deep breath, mind wandering to places he always feared. This divorce was already making it hard, especially with him going weeks on end without seeing his son. His empty apartment made him reel at night, the empty feeling that all was going wrong consumed him, and now his one slice of heaven was gone as well.

His name being called snapped him from thoughts, and he stood quickly, grabbed the order, and headed out the door with carriers balanced on top of each other, and his cup grasped in his right hand. Or so he thought. He went to take a swig as he hit the streets, nose curling and tongue reeling as he realized that was not his cup of coffee. He glanced at the name, Donna scribbled in chicken scratch.

His heart sank. Why? She was just a barista, she only made his coffee.

She was just a barista.

***

Darkness fell quickly enough in the dead set of winter. Charlie followed his crew down the well lit streets as they headed for a new jazz bar down the street. Mary Ann suggested they celebrate the MacArthur grant he won, and while he didn’t seem interested, he still decided to go. Maybe getting out would help his soul.

He tailed the group a good few feet behind them, hands shoved in his pockets and nose bundled in the scarf wrapped around his shoulders. He made small talk with his crew, fake smiles and forced laughs pushing through as he tried to hide from his own skin. The word ‘Nicole’ seemed taboo, no one wanted to ask him how his life was going. Walking the streets of New York once made him happy, made him feel at home. Now it felt like a shell, something once so pure and innocent, ruined by bad memories and failed loves.

As he stepped into the bar, it warmed him instantly. The schmoozey red carpet and leather seats made him feel somewhat at home, low hanging lamps kept the place dark and sull, and with a deep inhale of cigarettes and alcohol, he tried to push things away from his head. It was mostly empty on this Tuesday night, save for the twenty members of his theater group. For a while he sat at the table, chain smoking with his crew and laughing at jokes, but at some point, he slipped from his chair and headed to the bar across the way, needing something much stronger than a beer. He slid into the bar stool, legs too long to perch from it as he tapped on the dark wood. He took a deep breath.

“Double scotch, neat please,” he said, deep voice rumbling in his chest as he rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Any preference?”

He froze, eyes flying open as he recognized the voice. He looked up, soul soaring when he saw her. He smiled, eyes quickly glancing over the button up white collared shirt, rolled up sleeves and black vest she wore. Her hair was down, curled. She was dolled up to the nines, staring at him with a glint in her eye, and a smirk on her lips that made his jaw drop.

Oh. Was that his heart pounding away in his chest as he stared at her, unable to speak? Was that his hands growing clammy, his stomach turning and flipping like a goddamn butterfly? What was he, twelve?

“We’ve got Lagavulin, it’s one of my favorites,” she said when he didn’t answer, giving him a smile. “It’s got a nice smoke to it, very earthy. Considering how you like your coffee, it’s right up your alley.”

Oh, was he staring? His eyes dipped down, then back up. She never broke her gaze. He found it entrancing, the way she’d tilt her head to the side and make her hair fall over her shoulder.

“What, do you just specialize in making drinks for people?” he said, finally able to get words from his throat. “First a coffee shop, now a bar?”

She laughed, and eyes gazed down at the bar as she leaned against the wood. “Something like that,” she said. Eyes flicked back up to his, catching his gaze in a look that froze him to his core.

“Lagavulin’s fine,” he said softly, the pads of his fingers tracing circles in the bar top.

She tossed him a black napkin, and she turned to the bar to grab a whiskey glass. He watched as she reached high to the top shelf, grabbing a bottle two thirds full of pure honey colored scotch. She met his gaze as she poured him a double, and then an extra splash for good measure. She slid the drink over to him, slowly as she placed the bottle on the bar top.

“I missed you at the coffee shop,” she said, resting her palms against the wood. “I haven’t seen you in what, two weeks?”

His heart fluttered. “I was in LA visiting my son,” he said, eyes flicking downward as he grabbed the drink and shot it back, taking the whole glass within a few seconds before he set it back down on the bar. He took a minute, letting the aftertaste hit his tongue as he savored the liquor. He nodded his head, and then let his finger trace the lip of the glass.

“Henry? How’s he doing?” she asked, glossing over the fact that he was in LA, and no longer in New York.

“Oh you know. He’s eight, he barely has a problem in the world,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “His biggest issue is that he can’t decide what he wants for his birthday coming up, you know.” He let out a chuckle, but his fake smile fell. Hands tapped the glass on the bar top, absent-mindedly biting at his lip as he forced himself to pull his thoughts together.

“What’s wrong, Charlie,” she asked after a long pause of silence. She reached to the bottle of scotch and poured him another drink, and he held his glass still long enough for her to give him a double.

“Nothing. Nothing.” He shook his head and forced himself to keep his eyes locked to the wood bar top. He took another sip, and placed the glass on the napkin as he readjusted in his seat. “You ever feel like your whole life is just falling apart and there’s nothing you can do to stop it?”

He finally looked up, and what little smile he did muster fell when he saw her with her head tilted, brows knit together and lips pressed into a thin line. He looked away when she nodded her head, and muttered ‘all too well,’ under her breath.

He took another drink. “I went to LA to see my son, and instead got served divorce papers.” He drummed his fingers on the glass. “I already knew it was happening, but...now it’s real.” He paused, and then shook his head as he snapped himself from his somber thought “Sorry. I shouldn’t even be telling you this.”

“Nonono, please. I’ll listen,” she said, leaning against the bar as she folded her arms over her chest. “Come on, I’ve been making your coffee now every day for a few months,” she said with a chuckle. “I’ll be a friend. That is, if you want me to be.”

He flashed a smile, but it dropped quickly. He tapped on the glass again, considering her words. He could see her own nervousness in her stature, fingers gripping the table like it was a lifeline, hanging on his breath as she waited for something, anything. He knew. He’d been like that for months now with her, hanging on her smiles and little gazed over the pasty display at the shop.

He swallowed hard. Fuck it. Why not.

“We weren’t going to do lawyers, but now she’s got this big hot shot holding my entire life over my head like it’s one huge mistake.” He took another swig of the liquor. “She could have anything, I don’t care. She can take what she wants, I just want my son.”

He was quiet, and he looked up at her, heart fluttering at the sight of her sad eyes staring back at him. He was shocked when she reached over the bar and laid her hand on his, giving him a sympathetic squeeze as she took his fingers in her palm. It felt like his skin was on fire, like she lit him aflame from the inside, lighting a candle that had long since blown out in the storm it tried to weather.

“I’ve got to go back in, what, two weeks? I feel like I’ve spent more time on a plane than I have in my own apartment, and all I can think of is how many more flights am I going to take?” He shrugged his shoulders, eyes lost in the bar top as he vented. “How many times is she going to force me to choose between my son, or my work?” He shook his head, dropping his chin as he locked his lips together.

“I’m sorry, Charlie,” she said. The corners of her mouth turned as she grabbed a rag from below the bar and started to wipe down the wood.

He tapped on the bar with his hands, suddenly feeling extremely vulnerable for talking to what was essentially a light acquaintance.

“Aaaah, that’s enough about me for the night I think. Jared said you’ve moved to the opening shift?” He grabbed his drink and shot it back, clearing the glass as he leaned back in his seat. He sat it back down, eyes catching a small smile as it crossed her face as she walked the length of the bar.

“Yeah, I got another job to help pay the rent,” she said with a chuckle, fingers fiddling and doing whatever they could find for her to do. “Being a barista is fun, but the rent is not cheap, even outside of Brooklyn.” He noticed it was all she could do to not look at him, eyes fluttering back and forth. Heart stuttered in his chest, and he looked back down at his empty glass.

God, he hadn’t felt this alive in a long while. Was this what it should feel like? Or was he just pathetically slobbering over the first human that’s given him attention in years? He tapped the glass against the counter, a nervous tick as he watched her work. “You live across the bridge?”

“Yeah, something like that,” she said. He could tell he was forcing herself to hide her smile, albeit badly as she took beer glasses and poured two as a coworker waited patiently at the other end of the bar.

He stopped talking. This was getting a little too personal. She walked over to him, grabbing the scotch bottle and offering to pour him another. He nodded, and held his glass still. Eyes locked, his breath caught in his throat, and as she withdrew the bottle, he brought the drink to his lips. Breath fogged the glass, lips drew from the honey colored drink, and he dropped the glass from his lips.

There was a scar on her neck. Was that new, or had he missed it before? He looked down, feeling sick inside. He felt like he was overstepping, or that feeling normal human emotions was sin that needed to be scrubbed from his skin.

The laugh of his crew behind him pulled him back from the little world that only they existed in. He looked over his shoulder, most of them with heads in their hands as they shook their heads at Frank. He turned back around, catching her gaze just as it flickered away.

“Thanks for the talk,” he said, flashing the best smile he could muster. “Have a good night.” He grabbed the black napkin from the bar top, and she gave him a smile.

“See ya, Charlie.”

His heart always fluttered at the way she said his name. He actually smiled this time before he turned towards the booth his company was in, suddenly in a better mood he was in. He would catch himself staring at the enigma, wrapped in a skirt that was just a little too tight, and would snap himself when she caught a glance at him from the bar. It would always make her blush, and quickly gaze back down at the bar as she made drinks. He was shocked that no one in the company called him out for completely unplugging from the conversation, and at some point, she walked by to refill his glass. When they walked away for the night, he darted to the tip jar sitting on the edge of the bar while she was away, and dropped the twenty from this morning with her name on it into the jar, and walked away with a smile.

***

Feet carried him quickly out of the subway, the bitter cold air stinging his nose as he adjusted bags on his shoulder. It was early morning, maybe a little after three thirty now as he darted through dark streets. Even this early in the morning, New York was still bustling, taxis lined the roads, and he fumbled to get his bags to follow him without hitting others around him.

His mind was a haze. Nicole’s lawyer had him in a tizzy, threatening to claim full custody if he didn’t get a lawyer in LA. He hadn’t slept, how could he? Instead, he booked the first plane out, which left in two hours. He furiously packed his bags, and was on the first subway towards the inner city.

Feet carried him to the only place he knew, the only person who could calm him from the panic attack about to rack his chest. He rushed down the street, heart sinking when he saw the neon open sign off, and he stopped in front of the door, hands grasping at the straps of his bag. The lights were off, save for the spotlights behind the bar, and not a single sign of life breathed inside the coffee shop.

Open at 4. He’d be on his way to boarding a plane to California by then. Of course. He bit his lip, and looked down at his feet. He knew coming here was a risk, he knew she probably wasn’t here. He felt silly, coming all this way for what?

It wasn’t coffee.

He nodded his head and turned, feet taking him a few steps away before he heard a lock twisting, and the door opening behind him.

“Charlie!”

He froze. It was her. He looked over his shoulder, swallowing hard. She hung on the door, her hat low on her forehead, hair pulled up, bags under her eyes, but a bright yet confused smile on her lips. Her smile fell, and he realized he must have looked a mess. He couldn’t even muster the strength to curl the corners of his lips.

“What’s wrong?” Her brows furrowed, and she took a step away from the door.

He paused, looked away for a brief moment. “I didn’t know where else to go,” he said, finally meeting her gaze.

“Come in out of the cold, I’m just opening the store,” she said, holding the door open for him to follow her in.

He hesitated, but then tucked his chin as he nodded and dragged his bags through the door. The shop was warm, already smelled of freshly brewed coffee, and he took a deep breath as it calmed his pounding heart.

“Hey, what happened?” She touched his elbow, and it sent a shock down his spine. Her furrowed brows of concern made his head spin, and he shook his head as he dropped her gaze.

“Nicole’s lawyer called. She’s threatening to take Henry,” he said as he looked down at his feet. He heard the small gasp leave her lips, and he shook his head again. “Well she’s threatening to take everything, but full custody of Henry, and I am...I am not ok.” He was aware he wasn’t speaking clearly, the fog of sleep deprivation clouding his mind. Feet carried him to a table, where he dropped his bag and rubbed at his forehead. He opened his eyes as he felt her arms wrap around his waist, head resting against his chest.

At first he froze, but it oddly calmed him. When his heart stopped pounding loudly in his ear, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, and squeezed her tightly. Eyes snapped shut, his heart rate slowed, and the comfort of her filled his chest. He exhaled, and sniffed as he forced himself to keep it together, to keep from breaking apart, and he felt her arms that were wrapped around his chest tighten.

“I’m sorry, I’m a mess,” he said with a laugh, voice cracking as he inhaled a breath through his nose.

She broke the hug, and squeezed his shoulder with a faint smile on her face. “Considering you’re fighting for your son three thousand miles away from home, you’re doing better than I would be,” she said as she disappeared behind the counter.

He froze again. He could smell her on him, the scent of fresh brewed coffee and lavender piercing his thoughts. He placed both palms over his face, wanting to rub his skin raw if he could. He took a few steps over to the bar, where he sat on a stool and leaned his head down onto the cool countertop. The sounds of machines whirred to life, and he looked up to see her making a cup of coffee behind the empty pastry display.

“When does your flight leave?” she asked, the hair pulled up in her ponytail whipping over her shoulder as she took wide steps.

“I have to be on the plane in an hour,” he said, lifting his head up. “Part of me doesn’t even want to go if I’m going to be playing lawyer tag. I have a play opening on Broadway. Broadway! And she wants to do this now. She wants to hold my son, my own son, over my head like a hostage-” He abruptly stopped talking and put his head in his hands. She always had this effect on him, he always talked too much when he was around her.

He looked up to see her staring at him, lips frowning and sad eyes fluttering over his features.

“Sorry, I-”

“Nono, you’re fine,” she said softly. She walked around the bar with a cup in hand, and slid it to him as she sat in the stool beside him. “Here, it’s on the house,” she said, sliding a hot cover over the cup as she sat, hiding the beautiful cursive underneath the cardboard.

“Nonono, I can’t-” he said, putting a hand up as he reached for his back pocket.

“I insist. The register isn’t open anyways,” she said with a smile. She rubbed his shoulder, and stood from the stool. “Just don’t tell my boss,” she said with a chuckle.

He smiled. Genuinely smiled as he took the cup from the granite counter. “Thank you. For everything. I know you don’t get paid to listen to me complain about my life, but you still do. So far at two of the three jobs you work at.”

She flashed him a glance, cheeks turning red as she tried to hide behind her machines. “I’d do it anyways,” she said softly, teeth scraping against her lower lip. “Go, before you miss your flight,” she said, another glance catching his gaze.

He nodded and stood, leaning to grab his shoulder bag off the table and reaching for his rolling bag. He snagged the coffee as he was about to head out of the door, and bid her another thank you for the coffee.

“I’ll see you around, Charlie,” she said with a smirk as he pushed the door open with his back. He waved with two fingers with the hand he held his coffee in, and then exited without another word. He stood in the cold for a moment, chest warm and fuzzy without even taking a drink of his coffee. He pursed his lips when he saw her writing hiding behind the cardboard heat sleeve, and he fumbled with his bag as he slid it off.

His name wasn’t even written, and instead her phone number stretched across the cup with two little hearts underneath it. He froze, and then turned back to see that she wasn’t behind the bar, and the little shop was empty.

His lips curled upwards, and he took a drink to let the hot coffee warm his cold inside. He took steps towards the main street, hand held up as he hailed a taxi. As he climbed into the back of the yellow cab, hands fumbled with his phone as he put her number into his contacts.

He saved it as her name, with a heart right beside it, as she always wrote his name.

***

Charlie walked through the apartment door, finally home in New York after a dreadful time in California. Tired bones ached, yet he felt numb to everything as he collapsed on the couch, palms pressing into his eyes as he exhaled a deep breath. He rubbed his eyes, and then leaned forward, hands rubbing at his jaw. He already desperately missed his son, already dreaded getting back onto another plane in two weeks for the upcoming and impending trial that was bound to go to court. He tried to decompress, to not think about it.

He couldn’t.

It was what, midday? He checked his phone, noting the time as he laid back on the couch, headache forming already as he flipped through his phone.

He stopped, freezing when he saw her number saved. He’d forgotten all about it, going to that little shop in a haze, what, two months ago? When he got to Cali, he’d been so bombarded with the divorce, with finding lawyers, and when he got back he was so worried about finding the money to be there for Henry at Halloween, that he’d forgotten all about it.

Eyes stared at the ceiling. He was tempted, oh so tempted to send something, anything. He watched the cursor flash in an empty message for a while, fingers drumming against his chest.

He was getting a divorce. He was separated from his wife, they weren’t together. This was harmless fodder, wasn’t it? It didn’t feel harmless, and he closed his phone, the guilt too much. He stared at the ceiling, leaning back as he closed his eyes.

After a moment, he grabbed his phone again. Fuck Nicole.

He typed the message a thousand times, worried he either sounded too desperate or too needy, and then a few times he felt it was too forward.

Plane just landed. Can I see you?

He forced himself to send it, and then snapped his phone shut as he placed it back on his chest. His fingers drummed anxiously against his chest, eyes closed as heart pounding as he waited.

It buzzed, and he snatched it from his chest quicker than he cared to admit.

I don’t work at the bar tonight. Meet me at the Rec Room at 7? :)

He smiled at the message, and rubbed at his bottom lip as he tried to calm his pounding heart.

I’ll be there.

***

One hand was stuffed in his pocket, the other holding a cigarette to his lips as he walked the streets of Manhattan, breath exhaling smoke every time he took a step. His heart fluttered in his chest as he fought guilty pangs in his chest. He shouldn’t have done this, he should be waiting until the divorce was final. He was still, by law, married, as much as he hadn’t felt like it in years. He shouldn’t be fraternizing with someone he kept pushing his feelings down into his stomach.

Yet it felt so good. He swore even Nicole never looked at him the way she did.

He pushed the thoughts from his mind, digging his nose into his scarf as he walked. The brisk November air pierced through his coat, but he didn’t mind. He’d grown used to it a long time ago. He rounded the corner, eyes darting down the street as he looked for the Rec bar that stood at the corner of two very busy New York streets.

His stomach sunk. Should he be this out in the open with her? He’d doubt he’d run into someone he knew out here, but the thought was still there. He toyed with the lint in his pocket, eyes darting to his feet as he walked up to the front door of the bar. He threw his cigarette to the ground, stomping it out on the steps as he hopped up them. Hands grabbed the cold metal door, and he threw it open and stepped in.

It was dark, dull and smelled of smoke. Pool tables sat in the corner, and the place was pretty crowded for a Thursday night. Eyes darted over the place, trying to find the woman who took his breath away.

As if on cue, he spotted her behind the bar, and there went the air in his lungs. He feigned a smile, and nodded his head as she smiled back, eyes brightening at the sight of him. His pushed smile turned into a real smirk as he looked down at his feet, still hanging in the doorway as she spoke a word to her coworker behind the bar and tapped at the register at the corner of the bar. She started throwing on her coat, pulled a hat over her curly hair, and stepped out from behind the bar as she tossed her small bag over her back. She shoved her hands into some fuzzy purple gloves, and Charlie smiled as she walked over to him with a beaming face and smile so wide it could brighten the room.

“Hey, how was your trip?” she asked, pulling his eyes from giving her a once over and back to her face. She looked so different when she was able to dress down, in leggings and high rise boots with a denim jacket that looked so warm on the inside.

“Not great, but what can you do,” he said, offering the crook of his arm for her to take. “I went out and hired my own Beverly Hills asshole, that’s how much I can’t take anymore bullshit.”

“Well come on. Let’s not think about that for now, hm?” she said, wrapping an arm around his. “I don’t know about you, but I could use a night away from the world.”

He froze, but followed her out the door with brows furrowed. “How’d you get the night off?” he asked as they stepped into the cold streets of Manhattan.

“Oh I took it off a while ago. Working three jobs can be absolutely exhausting sometimes,” she said, her free hand going up to pull her hat further down her head.

His heart was in his throat. He didn’t want to take up her time, not when it was so valuable. “We can do this another time if you want,” he said, stopping his stride, only to have her yank him along.

“Absolutely not. We both could use the distraction.” She pulled him back to match her stride, and he chuckled. His heart swelled in his chest as she put her head on his shoulder. “I know this coffee shop around the corner, and a friend of mine, Melonie? She makes the best caramel macchiato in the city.”

He chuckled. “Honestly, if it isn’t your coffee, I’m not drinking it,” he said, which made her spin to look at him. “Seriously. You’ve spoiled me. You know I went there right after you moved to the morning shift, and the guy handed me Donna’s separate instead of mine. And could you believe I got angry for half a second before I realized how selfish that was? You’ve spoiled me rotten,” he said, little laughs exhaling from his lungs with a cloud of steam.

“Oh come on, stop,” she said, rolling her eyes as they made their way down the street, her boots clicking on the sidewalk. “It’s not that good.”

“I haven’t been back because I always wake up too late to catch you. Yes it is,” his said, the words slipping from his tongue before he had a chance to catch them. She stopped them, pulling his arm and dragging his attention to her.

“Please? Just trust me?” she said, bright eyes sparkling like the galaxies he couldn’t see above them. He forced himself to suppress the smile, but it leaked through anyways.

“Fine,” he said with a dramatic exhale. She pulled him the opposite way, his stomach in knots as he stared at the smile on her face. She was always smiling, always so happy, so free. So willing to be fluid, so willing to work hard, willing to be different and push him to try something new. So opposite of Nicole.

They went up the road to the coffee shop, and it took no time for her to speak to her friend and get them orders to go. He paid, much to her chagrin, and they were out and walking into Central Park in no time.

“See, I told you yours is better,” he said after he finished his first sip.

“No, you’re just spoiled,” she said, casting him a snarky look with a cocked brow over her shoulder at him. “You’re just upset she didn’t draw hearts all over your cup.”

“Shhhhh,” he said, taking another sip of his coffee. He started to laugh, and shook his head as he led her into the park.

“Do you skate?” she asked, throwing him for a loop, making him furrow his brows and tilt his chin.

“Yeah, I used to skate all the time as a child,” he said, his sarcasm dry and unwavering.

“Wait, really?” She stopped, looking at him with a suspicious brow.

“Absolutely not,” he said with a chuckle. “I’m a director, I don’t tend to get out much if you haven’t noticed,” he said, and took a long drink of his coffee.

“Well come on then,” she said, taking his arm and letting him steer them towards the ice rink set up just in time for winter. “I haven’t skated since I left Colorado five years ago. It’ll be fun.”

“You skate, I’ll bust my ass,” he said with a laugh. “I’ll watch though.” He looked down, and caught her eyes, cheeks growing warm.

“Oh come on, loosen up Charlie,” she practically begged. “Please?”

He couldn’t say no to the overexaggerated pout of her lip and her overwhelming puppy eyes. He rolled his eyes, slammed his coffee, and tossed it to a nearby trash can as they walked deeper into the park.

It wasn’t long before he was booted up in some pass around skates, leaning against the edge of the rink with one hand gripping the railing, while the other helped him suck down a cigarette, for if he tried to do too much else, all he did was flail his arms before winding up on the cold ice. He damned himself to watching her from the sidelines, skating and zipping around like she was born to do it.

“Where did you learn how to skate?” he asked her as she zipped by, gliding and shifting her weight like a swan on water. She turned, skating backwards as she gave him a smile.

“I used to compete a loooooong time ago,” she said, circling the rink before she hit the railing full on beside him to come to a stop. “Like twenty years ago, before I went to collage long ago.”

“Well aren’t you still full of surprises,” he said, craning his neck to look down at her as she tucked in beside him. “It’s like I barely know you,” he said with a chuckle as he turned to watch a handful of others circle the rink, each either flailing or skating with some skill. A crowd of them left the rink, leaving the two of them mostly alone along with another couple gliding and giggling over the ice.

“Well to be fair, you do barely know me. I think I know more about you than you do about me,” she said, pushing herself off the edge to rejoin the ice. “But maybe that’s because I’ve seen you on the magazine rack once or twice.”

His heart fluttered when she smirked at him, and to hide the hot flush that creeped up his neck, he offered her a drag. She took it, holding it between her lips and sucking in for a few seconds before handing it back.

“Aaah, dating me cause I’m hot shit, I see how you are,” he said, grin wide as he took his cigarette back.

“To be fair, I didn’t know you were a director until after I saw you at the bar.” Her breath was a cloud of smoke as she spoke through the exhale. “If you think that’s the most interesting thing about you, Charlie Barber, you need to rethink your prerogative. Pause, I want to see if I still got it.” She flashed him a smile over her shoulder, leaving him hanging as he sucked down the last of his cigarette and crushed it out on the rail. She skated around, slowly building up speed as she skated backwards through the rink. He shoved his hands in his pockets, and watched as she looked behind her, and then launched herself into a spin jump, and landed just a mere hair away from perfection.

Eyebrows went up, jaw locked, and he watched her pump her arm in celebration as she went to skate back over to him. She slid, skates spraying ice as she came to a stop immediately to his left.

“Who are you?” he said wildly, ending in a laugh as she burst into giggles and used a gloved hand to cover her smile. “You are so much more interesting than about, what, ninety percent of the people I know.”

Her laugh seemed to subside, and then her smile dropped, fist lightly tapping on the railing as she lost herself in thought. He furrowed his brow as she nodded her head towards the exit, muttering a soft ‘come on’ as she went. His heart was in his throat. Did he say something wrong? He followed her, and the two turned in their skates and headed deeper into the park without much words spoken.

“You know I came here to do theater?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder as he quickly stepped to catch up to her.

“From Colorado?” He lit another cigarette. God, was the nicotine even working? It still felt like his heart was pounding in his chest every time he looked at her, and his stomach was in his chest.

“I’m actually from Cali. I moved to Colorado for school, and then headed up here after I graduated.” The two stared at their feet for the most part as they made their way to a bench. She took a seat, Charlie sitting on the other side as the two stretched out. She curled her fingers over crossed legs, and he leaned back, intent to listen to her. “I wanted to be a star,” she said with a shrug. “I’ve been singing since I was a girl, and wanted to do Opera. I was good, too. I could sing Queen of the Winter Night from Mozart and not break a sweat.”

“So why are you working three jobs that aren’t theater?” he said, perking up at their sudden passion in common.

“I did work for a theater crew for a while. We wanted to be the next Phantom show on Broadway, and we were headed that direction. Two days before opening, I blew out my voice. My understudy was great, but there's just something about watching someone stand where you’re supposed to be, claiming what you wanted.” She got quiet. Her eyes couldn’t look at him anymore. “A week went by, it didn’t get better. Then two weeks. Then a month. I had to get surgery, and while it fixed my voice, I still couldn’t sing Opera. Never got it back,” she said, a lighthearted shrug hiding the drop in her shoulders. “I’ve just kinda stayed here. Working three jobs to pay the rent as I can. I can’t leave here, I love it too much, but… it can be hard.”

He rolled his head to the side, lips pressing into a thin line. “That's…tough,” he said quietly, eyes locked onto her as she readjusted her stance. He sucked down another drag, nerves dizzy and disorienting.

She exhaled a cloud of steam, and then he saw her try to play off a shiver. “It’s fine. I’ve come to terms with it. And it’s not like I don’t sing anymore. You should see me Saturday nights after the bar closes, well I guess it’s Sunday morning then. The coworkers and I get a little too tispy and I’ll sing Adele on the bar top,” she said with a light laugh.

He smiled, admiring her strength. She shivered again, and while it took him a split second, he jumped into motion. He started shucking his jacket off his shoulders, cigarette butt perched in his lips.

“No, I’m fine, really,” she said with a wave of her hand.

“Yeah, and you’re shivering, liar,” he said, which made her laugh. He motioned her over, and after a moment’s pause, she scooted over, and he draped his heavy jacket over her shoulder. He put out an arm, and before he knew it, she was pressed against his chest and curling her feet under her as she tucked her cold ass nose into his neck.

“You’re fucking cold, you know that right,” he said, fighting the urge to pull away from her freezing cold hands scurrying under his suit jacket. Instead, he pressed his cheek into her forehead, closed his eyes, and took in a deep drag before throwing his free arm over the back of the bench.

God, he shouldn’t feel like his heart would leap out of his chest. He shouldn’t feel the urge to wrap her around his neck, to kiss her like he hadn’t had this feeling before. His thumb brushed against her shoulder, and he found himself drawing her closer. He’d sinfully dreamed of this before, sitting in Central Park, curled up with someone, anyone other than his wife, to keep cold hands warm. It had been so long since he’d felt this content before, and still there was that feeling in the pit of his stomach that this was so wrong. He’d known her for several months, even spent entire shifts with her at the coffee house when he didn’t have to be at the theater. She was no longer a stranger, she was a friend.

So why was he nervous? Why did it feel so criminal? The divorce was close to being over. Nicole already had a new somebody, at least according to Henry she did. Why shouldn’t he feel content at finding someone himself?

He took a drag, and leaned his head back to rest on the back of the park bench. He took another, finishing the whole thing in one long breath before he flicked it to the ground and scuffed it out with his toe.

She nuzzled her nose into his neck as smoke leaked from his lips, and he snapped from his thoughts. He turned, pressing his lips to her forehead like a forbidden kiss. His heart pounded in his chest, his fingers were hot and sweating, even in the cool night. He couldn’t even focus on the beauty of the park at night, he was so caught up in his head in an internal war with himself.

“What?” Her voice pierced through his pounding heart as she lifted her head, and he caught her eyes. She was so soft, so at peace, her cheeks were flush, and he didn’t know if it was the cold or if she was fighting the same war in her head. The taboo feeling of him still bound to a woman half a world away, yet being so emotionally gone from his marriage was consuming him.

He shook his head, dropping her gaze and turning away.

“Charlie,” she said, words pulling him back, foreheads touching as he stole the breath from her lips. “I’m here when you’re ready,” she said like a confession, like a prayer.

That was it. His hand flew to her jaw, drew her close, crashed his lips with hers with such desperation he was sure he knocked the breath out of his lungs. She was so soft, met him with the same fervent need he had. Breaths locked, he met her with open mouth kisses that made his stomach flip. He ripped the gloves off his hands, wanting to feel her under his skin, to feel her breaths against the hands that held her ribs caged. Fingers brushed her cold cheeks, and she shivered under his touch.

She was straddling his lap in seconds, the air filled with the sounds of their deep breaths and panting as he kissed her again, and again, and again. Fingers glided up her waist, toying with the waistband of her pants to lock her to his hips as he groaned against her kiss. His jacket fell from her shoulders, hands ripped her hat off to join it as he brushed his fingers through her hair.

She moaned into the kiss, and it was like his whole body slammed to a halt, like the subway hit him head on. He pulled back, heavily breathing and fingers tight on her waist. He was eye to eye with her, there was no escaping her gaze, and no escaping how she definitely felt the hardened rock begging for freedom in his trousers.

She panted heavily on his lips, lidded eyes locking with his as a smirk curled on her lips. Fingers held tightly on his shirt, nails biting at his skin under the fabric. She dipped to him, brushing her swollen lower lip on his as the two fought for composure. He glanced at her, gaze locked together with dilated eyes and heavy flush speckling their cheeks. Her hair was a mess, he chuckled at that as she ran her fingers through locks to try and re-tame it.

A heavy breath came out more like a growl as he reclosed the gap between them, this time slower, more deliberate as he ran his tongue over her lips. He broke the single kiss by resting his forehead against hers, hands still tight to her sides. Her fingers rested on his chest, practically clawing at the fabric of his shirt. He took in a deep breath, it coming out as a shudder as the cold hit the back of his neck.

“I have a place on Cornelia,” she said, breathless as she shifted in his lap, hands dipping to dig his hands from her waist and lace her fingers with his. “Instead of going to Brooklyn?” She knew what she was doing, and he held back the groan that prickled in the back of his throat. He resisted the urge to take her here. Snow was starting to fall now, making it that much colder as it landed on his nose and melted from the heat.

He nodded wordlessly, and as she slid from his lap, he dipped to grab his coat off the ground. Hands brushed it off as she scooped her hat up, and he wrapped his coat onto her shoulders.

He grabbed her hand and laced his fingers with his, trying so hard to get his heart to stop pounding and his ears to stop ringing. She was leading him through Central Park, her face still flush and lips bruised.

They took the subway to the West Fourth station, hopping off and walking the rest of the way, silently stealing glances as they made small chat. It wasn’t long before she led him to an apartment complex, and up a flight of stairs.

Keys hit the lock, and he never felt so nervous. He unlaced his hand from hers as she pulled the door open and let him in, flicking a light switch on the wall to illuminate the room. It was a cute little thing, but there were no decorations adorning the walls. The place was spotless, hardly lived in save for some fruit resting in a bowl on the counter.

“This is probably the cleanest apartment I’ve ever seen in New York,” he said with a chuckle, pulling his coat off her shoulders and setting it on the counter of her kitchen.

“Well I’m never here, so why even make it home?”

The words stung his heart, and his smile fell. He spun around, still taking in the small apartment as she locked the door behind them. She still kept her back against the door, and eyes caught hers as she stared at him from the doorway.

“What?” he said, eyes slanted as he put his hands in his pockets and took slow steps over to her.

“Just trying to gauge if you’ll make a one night stand out of me,” she said, cocking her chin up as he stood directly in front of her.

He chuckled, closing the gap even further as he got nose to nose with her. “If I do that, I’ll fuck myself out of some really, really good coffee,” he said, dipping down just enough to capture her lips with his. She let out a moan, back arching against him as he pushed her to the door, pinning her with his whole body. Her arms wrapped around his neck, she wrapped her legs around his waist to anchor him to her.

He groaned into a sloppy, open mouth kiss as she grinded her hips against him, sending him into a frenzy. His hands were on her waist, keeping her grounded as he dropped from her lips to her neck. He put a leg against the door, keeping her up as hands started ripping her coat off her body.

Oh this was so wrong. Oh this was sin at its finest, it was temptation beyond what he was able to endure, and instead he drank from it. He was tipsy, drunk off the feeling of her skin under his tongue, of his cock pressed to her, begging, taunting. It had been too long since he’d laid with anyone, and this feral monster inside him was rearing to be released.

She breathlessly moaned, and managed to breathe the words ‘bedroom’ and ‘left’ as he left a trail on her throat, and it was all he needed. He lifted her from the door, keeping her steady as he carried her to her room. He tapped the door open with his foot, dropped her to her feet, and within seconds they were pressed up against the wall. Her hands were at his stomach, fumbling with his belt as he raked his tongue against her lips. She had his trousers down and a hand on his already hardened cock in seconds, her hands pulling a groan from his lips as she worked her palm over the head.

He groaned into her kiss, hips twitching against her thrusts as she dropped to her knees, tongue wetting him down before she slipped him into her mouth. Head tilted, resting on the door as he carded fingers through her hair, holding her as she sucked his head. A string of curses hissed from his lips as she swirled her tongue over the swollen tip, leaving him keening against her lips as her name left his tongue like a prayer.

Every move she made left him aching, begging, a spluttering mess as she picked up her pace. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t tell her how fucking much he wanted to pull her off and pound her raw into the wall. His head rolled on his shoulders, getting a good look at her pretty little lips around his shaft.

She looked up, and his heavy panting hitched in his throat. Oh she was too good. Her tongue was too much, the twist of her hand at the base of his cock made him shudder as she worked up the nerve to slide him all the way down her throat, nose brushing against his stomach as she hummed. He could feel himself climbing, pressure building in the pit of his stomach, but he didn’t want this to end. He put a hand on her jaw, stopping her from finishing him off as he pulled her off his cock, it twitching as she released it from her mouth with a smirk. He pulled her up by her chin, finger wiping the spit and precome off her chin as he brought her to his lips. Hands were on her waist, and he walked her backwards onto the king size bed before he dropped too, putting all his weight on keeping her still on the sheets.

His hands ran up her sides, hands lacing together and holding them above her head as he sucked at her neck. Tongue laved across her skin, savoring the sweet taste as he dropped to her collarbone, then lower. Hands fumbled with the hem of her shirt as his tongue swirled circles over her skin, and she helped him pull it over her head. He pulled her boots off her feet, kicked his own shoes to the floor, and then dropped to the hem of the lace bra as teeth nipped at raw flesh. She arched her back, breathing heavily as he reached around, popping the clasps loose with one hand and tearing it off her body. He toyed with her peaks, sucked bruises into her skin with growls stuck in his throat as he tried to ignore the ache in his trousers. Hands kneaded her skin, her tits perfect for his wide hands. He ran fingertips down her stomach, feeling the goosebumps prickle underneath the pads of his fingers.

Her hands ran up to his shirt, tearing through buttons as she clawed the fabric, pulling it from his muscular arms the moment it was free. She viciously captured his lips, hand on the back of his neck as she arched her body to his, needy, wanting. Skin pressed together, searing, radiating as he ran his hands down her sides and pulled her pants from her legs. His heart was suddenly in his throat, his hands shook as if he was nervous. For a moment, he stared, taking in every curve of her body, every dip and crevice of ethereal beauty. Lips dipped back to her collarbone, sucking another bruise in her throat. A growl left his lips as her hands fisted his hair. He looked up, seeing her eyes trained on him with a glossy stare, teeth biting her lip as she anticipated his move, pushed him to do it.

He moved down, lips leaving a wet and sloppy trail as he moved further and further down. Teeth bit at her thigh, lips lingered on her mound, and then with a deep inhale, he dipped his tongue into her folds. She was already slick, wet for him as he teased her, waiting for a sharp inhale of breath before wide tongue laved against her clit. She reeled against him as a loud moan left parted lips, and his hands pinned her to the bed with firm fingers as he did it again, the heat and slick coating his tongue. He ran down her slit, wide tongue taking long, slow, titillating strokes as he savored her taste. He sucked at her clit, smiling in her heat as she slow drawl of his name left her lips. He pushed her leg up, gaining better leverage as he readjusted himself on the bed, hips begging to thrust, begging for the same pleasure she felt, begging for her pretty little cunt clenched around.

He got into a rhythm, and she rocked her hips in time with his movements. He let a finger drag across her slit, toying with her opening before he slid a long, slender finger into her heat. She inhaled a sharp hiss, and pushed her hips into his finger as he began to stretch her with another, and got greedy with a third.

Wanton moans dripping from her lips as she sputtered nonsense. He smirked against her, feral as he dipped deep into her. He sucked on her clit again, this time letting his tongue swirl over the swollen nub as his eyes locked with hers. Her head tilted back, the room echoed with the sounds of heavy breathing and her moans, getting louder and louder as she climbed towards her climax. He could feel her clench around his thrusting fingers, and then pulse in time with her orgasm as she rocked into him, firm hand in his hair to keep him put as she rode his tongue to her paradise, jaw locked open and singing sweet moans that left him begging for more.

Her fingers loosened, her body dropped, a gentle ‘Fuck, Charlie” left her lips as he withdrew with a light pop, her come dripping from her and his chin. He was feral now, cock throbbing as he tossed the rest of his clothes to the floor. He was on the bed in seconds. Deep, heavy breaths were in time with hers as he took her hands and stretched them high above her head, fingers laced tightly together. He could never get enough of the sight of her stretched underneath him, tits taut and back arched as he pushed her a little more. He positioned himself, and rested his forehead against hers asshe leaned up and kissed all the slick off his lips, sucking on his tongue to share the taste.

He slid in slow, the head of his cock popped in and sent him spinning. He pushed further, her tight little cunt taking him perfectly as he bottomed out right as he pushed all the way in, groaning at the sounds of her high, drawling whine stuck in her throat. He stayed still, letting her grow accustomed to him, and trying to keep his own orgasm at bay. He hadn’t been sheathed like this in so long, and she was so slick and tight that it was all he could do to not fuck her into the bed and come in seconds.

She rolled her hips and his breath stuttered, and he dropped to the crook of her neck as he moaned her name into her skin. “Jesus fuck, don’t do that,” he said, breathlessly as he panted against her skin.

“Why not?” she said, wrapping her legs around his waist and drawing him in further, doing it again to draw a hiss and a groan from his tongue.

He laughed, pressing his lips against hers as he wrapped his arms around her back. “You don’t realize how long it’s been,” he said, teeth toying with her lip.

She brushed her nose against his and smiled against his kiss. “Shut up and fuck me already,” she said, biting his lip as she wrapped her arms around his neck. The two reeled as he drew back and pushed in, moaning in the other’s mouth as he did it again, and again.

He wasn’t going to last long with her grinding underneath, that he knew. He unhooked himself, and grabbed her arms and held them over her head as he pounded into her, fingers tight and pulling her taut underneath him, the sound of their songs of pleasure echoing around the room like a chorus. He sat up, pulled her legs flush to him as he continued on, deep and fast as the feeling of his orgasm creeping up on him as he leaned his head back. She grabbed him, pulled him down by the back of his neck, and sucked him into a kiss as he dropped his hand down to her clit, swirling it under the pad of his thumb as he got closer and closer to spilling. Her pitch changed, now octaves higher as she whined into his mouth, shoulder drawing in as she let out a shudder. Her cunt pulsed around him, drawing him deeper. He picked up his pace, no longer able to fight it, her orgasm enough to send him careening for his own.

He grunted into her kiss, broke the contact and buried his nose into her shoulder as it hit him quickly, seed spilling deep inside her as he pushed through his climax. Teeth bit her neck, keeping him from moaning her name too loud as he pulsed deep in her cunt. Cock swelled, he saw stars, and he pushed into her again, stuttering a string of curses as his whole body felt like it would fuse with her.

When he came down from his own, she was still rocking on his cock, riding through another, and again as he thumbed her swollen clit through his heavy breathing. She finished just as his shoulders dropped, and he barely caught his weight on his elbow as he collapsed on the bed.

They breathed in tandem, heavy and stuttered as he buried his nose in her breast.

“I-I’m sorry-” he heaved against her, his forehead sticking to her sweat covered body. He felt bad, lasting all of five minutes, and it made him bury his head into her neck. He wished he could worship her into the darkest hours of the night, make up for the years and years of repression, of celibacy locked in a loveless marriage. He wished to give her everything he had, to his last breath of sleep.

He felt hands at his jaw, pulling him from her skin as she cupped his jaw in her palms. “Shshshhhhh,” she said, placing a kiss on his forehead before pulling him in for a deep, heartstopping kiss that made him twitch inside her. “You’re fine. We’re fine,” she said, looking deep in his eyes. He sat up, moving her legs so that he could withdraw from her. He did it slow, groaning, moaning nonsense as he drew his swollen cock deep from her. His come spilled from her, leaving a puddle of pearly mess on the bed sheets that surely wasn’t just him. He tilted his head back, letting the sting of the room cool his muscles as he collapsed back on the sheets, drawing her in to embrace as he laid his head on her pillows. He buried his nose in her hair as he tucked his legs behind hers, cock still swollen as he tucked himself into her. His hands wrapped around her, held her as close to his chest he could get as he took deep breaths, body still twitching in the aftermath. She let out a deep sigh of content, her arms pulling his tighter as she settled into him.

Nothing could ever beat this. Nothing could lure him into such a deep sense of belonging like her turning in his arms to tuck her chin into the crook of his neck. Nothing could beat dozing off into a light sleep, her curled up underneath him with a smile on her face.

Nothing could pull him away from this if he tried.

Her alarm clock blared to life, jolting him awake long before the sun would touch the sky. He didn’t even remember falling asleep beside her, legs tangled together underneath thick blankets. Her hand was still laced with his, thumb brushing her knuckles as he stirred. He laid still, eyes closed and head in a daze as she worked her way from his arms to slap the alarm clock off. He cocked an eye open, watched as she leaned back into the bed, and snuggled up to him with a smile on her face. She wrapped her arms around his chest, leaned in and kissed him through the sour of sleep. Her clock flashed 3, and his heart sank as he realized she had to get up for work.

Even in the dark, he could see her messy hair, her bright eyes warm and happy. The smile on her face widened as she settled back into the bed beside him. She kissed him again, and this time he woke, matching her lips with the same deep compassion she always showed him.

He rested his forehead against hers, not needing words to explain to her how he felt. He felt alive, he felt free, unchained. He felt wanted, needed.

He felt loved for the first time in years.

She smiled, and propped herself on the pillow when she noticed him staring. She cocked her brow, and pulled the sheets away to curl up as close as she could get, heat fusing together as they tangled together again.

“You want some coffee?”

#charlie barber x reader #kinda?#charlie barber #callmehopeless #i'm so sorry

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tdcatsblog · 7 years ago

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Fic Recs: Infidelity

My last rec list featured Main Character Death, and now I bring you another cheerful topic – Infidelity! Once again enabled by @effcat, here is a list of fics featuring variations on adultery and its fallout. These are all >10K, so there are definitely some gems that are not listed. This list does not include situations where infidelity is a false accusation or belief; the bad stuff is real.

As always, check out the author’s tags before reading. Again, these recs all contain infidelity. You have been warned. Personal faves have lightning bolts (⚡).

HD Infidelity – These are the ones where Harry or Draco cheat on the other. It’s a rather unpopular trope.

⚡ Let's Dance To Joy Division by @femmequixotic - E, 12.5K - Let the love tear us apart, I've found a cure for a broken heart...

Unkissed Kisses and Songs Never Sung by @femmequixotic – M, 12.7K - I sit silently in the shadows, staring at the tiny, pulsing ball of light that tells me my Harry's still alive.

A Dream of Waking by @eidheann – NC-17, 16K - "You always were contrary. Had I known you’d jump into an engagement with the first person you spoke to after our little tête-à-tête, I might have been gentler with my persuasion."

⚡ Blueprints for a Dream by Frayach – E, 24.4K - Harry breaks Draco’s heart, but that doesn’t mean Draco’s going to let him go without a fight.

Says The Magpie To The Morning (Sorrow, Take Your Own Advice) by @femmequixotic – E, 34K - It's terribly bad form, sleeping with your ex when you're still half in love with the bastard.

(Any perceived author bias is completely coincidental. I make no apologies.)

Infidelity, not HD – In these fics Harry or Draco (or both) cheat on someone else, usually Ginny and/or Astoria. There are actually a large number of stories that fit in this category, as Epilogue Compliant Drarry often contains some element of infidelity, for obvious reasons.

It's Not Enough, Just a Touch by @mugglelissa – E, 11.8K - Harry Potter rushed into marriage, eager to start a family of his own, only to realize too late where his true preferences lie. Now, there is no turning back as he waits nervously in this restaurant, knowing nothing will ever be the same again.

and your damage done by twistedmiracle – E, 15.8K - How was it that being grown up had once seemed exciting and desirable?

Life's Hidden Forces (can only be discovered by living) by @kabal42 – E, 17.6K - It is never easy to love or need - especially not when it hurts to do so.

A House with a White Picket Fence by @silentauroriamthereal - R, 17.8K - Harry, happily married and busy with his Auror career, thinks his life is perfect until he starts discovering what he's been missing all this time

Learning to Breathe by okydoky – E, 17.5K - Draco knew what his life was going to be like, there was never any doubt. He never expected to fall in love, especially with someone who wasn't his wife. But he did, and somehow, Harry Potter became the thing that kept him breathing.

Eye of the Beholder by pir8fancier – M, 22.5K - Draco Malfoy has written an explosive autobiography. Not only does lay bare his role as a Death Eater, he also makes a number of other shocking revelations. Harry Potter owls him, asking that they meet for drinks to discuss his novel.

Narcotic by xErised – M, 23K - It was a fine, beautiful, sunny day when Albus Potter stumbled on his father and Draco Malfoy in bed together.

Draco Malfoy's Travelling Theatre of the Strange and Spectacular by melusinahp – NC-17, 27.5K - "I welcome you to Draco Malfoy's Travelling Theatre of the Strange and Spectacular. Hold onto your seats, for this is not entertainment for the faint of heart. You will see both amazing spectacles and shocking displays. Get out your smelling salts, uncap your Firewhisky bottles -- it's going to be an evening you'll never forget."

Anything But Ordinary by 0idontknow0 – E, 37.9K - “I got someone pregnant,” he said. “Draco Malfoy to be specific.”

The Slytherin Gryffindor by @dysonrules – M, 40.6K - This is my response to JKR's horrific epilogue. It's a dual novel with one part Albus Scorpius and one part HarryDraco. Deathly Hallows compliant! The Slytherin Hufflepuff is the Albus Scorpius portion.

⚡ Collect Your Courage by 11oyd – M, 45.3K - Potter needs control; Draco needs forgiveness. They shag; Lavender gives advice; they yell; Seamus makes muffins; they fight; and everyone else drinks far too much coffee for their own wellbeing.

Liar by @jadstiel – NC-17, 50K - Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy have always preferred the worst of each other; it was too bad they both had to have better halves.

(The Piece) I was Missing All Along by @heaven-is-my-hell – E, 31K - Draco and Harry have been flatmates and best friends for years, and Draco thinks life is just perfect that way. But when something comes along and threatens to take all that away, Draco has to decide what it is he really wants, and just how hard he's going to work to get it.

The Full Four Seasons by @ravenclawsquill – E, 49.1K - Draco Malfoy just wants a quiet life. He has a successful business, a lovely wife, and a delightfully horrible circle of friends. He’s fine. Or, he was fine until Harry Potter thundered into his life with all the subtlety of a blast-ended skrewt and turned everything on its head. Now he’s beginning to wonder if ‘fine’ is enough, after all.

Benefaction by Slytherincess – E, 70K - Following a bizarre accusation in a brutal crime, Harry Potter finds himself a loner and an outcast, as Draco Malfoy reigns supreme in the innermost social circles. A vengeful optician, a fifteen-year-old homeless Squib, and Harry and Draco's penchant for charitable giving all come into play as Blaise Zabini makes an unusual bet with Draco. Per fest prompt, loosely inspired by George Bernard Shaw's Pygmalion (1912) and the movie She's All That (1999).

#drarry #drarry recs #harry james potter #draco malfoy #draco/harry #draco x harry

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nyerus · 7 years ago

Text

Nyerus’ Victuuri Fic Rec List

These are in no particular order, really, just a list of my fave Victuuri fics—some of which I think a little less well known (but idk). I’ve been sitting on this for SO LONG that some of the “lesser known” ones are huge now hahaha! I’ll probably make a page for this or something later.

I pulled the “genres” mostly from the tags, but basically winged it based on what felt right. Most fics rated as “Explicit” in this list have smut in them so keep that in mind, but I’ve made special annotations as need be. I’ve also mentioned if there are any significant side pairings.

I’ve added mini-reviews (kinda) as well, which are just my personal thoughts on a fic without getting too spoilery, but you can feel free to skip them.

Current count:

Canon:7

AU: 21

(Quite long, so under a cut).

Canonverse

1.) Heartbreaker by drowsycyborg (Status: Complete – 3.1k words) – Teen

Genres: Pre-series, Outsider PoV, Detroit Days, Humor

Katsuki Yuuri is five foot eight, shy, and one of the most gorgeous and heartbreaking humans ever seen in Detroit.

In which Yuuri is Too Beautiful and Good and no one around him knows how to be chill about it. And thus, he unwittingly breaks a lot of hearts in Detroit. Set pre-series, it’s hilarious to see people lament over the sweet, lovely Katsuki Yuuri (long before we see poor Victor fall victim in-canon). Possibly part of a future series?

2.) katsuki_fc wrote by tetsurashian (Status: Complete – 12.7k words) – Gen

Genres: Social Media, Outsider PoV

Just because Yuuri isn’t big on social media, doesn’t mean his fans aren’t.(aka a social media fic)

Basically the series seen through a social media lens. In other words, the social media reactions one would expect to see in-canon if we got a glimpse of it! It feels very realistic and even incorporates actual fandom discourse (e.g. early fan theories and shipping). A huge round of applause for the author for getting AO3’s formatting to still somehow feel like LJ threads, Tumblr posts, and so on! I’ve read this like a dozen times already and always laugh when I do because it feels sooooo meta.

3.) Distance by surverycorpsjean (Status: Complete – 5.1k words) – Explicit

Genres: Post-series, Domestic, Fluff, Smut

They just can’t stand to be apart.

Victor and Yuuri never outgrow their honeymoon phase and it’s amazing and perfect. Adorable domestic fluff with some great smut (kitchen sex!) in the middle. (It’s set post-canon.) Without a doubt I can say: A+++

4.) The Fundamentals of Caring by braveten (Status: Complete – 20.8k words ) – Explicit

Genres: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

“Let me guess, you’re going to go take care of Yuuri while he sleeps? Just in case he sneezes or something?” Yurio rolls his eyes, folding his arms across his chest. “Viktor, you’re whipped.”

Viktor rubs the back of his neck as he leans against the wall. “What does that mean?”

“It means that if Yuuri asked you to do a little dance for him in nothing but a coconut bra and a hula skirt, you’d do it.”

Viktor pauses, confused. “And that’s a bad thing?”

Yuuri gets sick while in Russia (not post-series) and Victor tries to take care of him while simultaneously trying to be Chill about it—but a deliriously affectionate Yuuri makes that very difficult. Yurio is eventually recruited to help and he makes Victor’s job harder and easier at the same time, somehow. Very cute!

5.) Lace and Satin by whatsup_buttercup (Status: Complete – 6.2k words) – Explicit

Genres: Established Relationship, Post-series, Lingerie, Light BDSM

“I won gold.” Viktor says, smile in his voice. “Whatever does that mean, Yuuri?”

Yuuri looks down. “Are you sure you don’t want something better?”

“There’s nothing better.” Viktor insists. “Nothing.”

Hoooooo boy! This fic hits basically EVERY single one of my kink so well and honestly I’m grateful it exists. Criminally underrated because it’s so well written and even the dirty talk is A+. It’s technically part of a series but can also work as a standalone (but do yourself a favor and read the other fic in this series too!!!).

6.) Need by sub_textual (Status: Complete – 8.2k) – Explicit

Genres: Post-series, Smut, Semi-public sex

What stands before Viktor now isn’t at all the Yuuri that had stripped off his clothes in front of a hundred people. This is Yuuri, beautiful and blushing, shy in all the ways Viktor knows he isn’t, too embarrassed to express what he really wants. This is Yuuri, abandoning the clasp of Viktor’s pants, to slowly undo Viktor’s tie. This is Yuuri, desperate and needy, ripe and ready for the taking, and he’s all Viktor’s.

Takes place directly after the series, during the banquet. Victor and Yuuri sneak off to the bathroom and get frisky. This fic is hot, ok. There’s a slight dab of exhibitionism and some dom/sub which makes things more exciting!

7.) Jason's Master Plan (to dating the Cute Asian Guy) by Qwertzu (Status: Complete – 9.8k words) – Teen

Genres: Post-series, Outsider PoV, Humor, Identity Reveal

Jason Hesling, young ice hockey prodigy, rising star of Detroit Ice Tigers and part-time model, had a smile that made women and men alike weak at their knees. It’s been a while since anyone managed to catch his attention – until he met the Cute Asian Guy at Detroit Ice Castle and decided to become his next boyfriend.

Meanwhile, the actual Ice Tiger™ is having the time of his life watching the pretentious JJ-wannabe trying to charm the pants off the completely oblivious, happily married Katsudon.

Hockey jock Jason tries his hardest to woo the “cute Asian guy at Detroit Ice Castle” but isn’t it too bad that said cutie is already happily married to someone else? If only if poor Jason knew.... This fic is honestly a riot and I had such a fun time reading it (and its follow-up fic). It seems to be part of a longer series and I eagerly await more installments! I guess I have a thing for Victuuri breaking everyone’s hearts by being so smitten with each other!

Alternate Universe

1.) Healthy Impropriety by mtothedestiel (Status: Complete – 29.5k words) – Explicit

Genres: Regency AU, Historical, Courtship

Victor is the wealthy master of the Nikiforov estate. At a society party he’s swept off his feet by the mysterious, suave, and very drunk Katsuki Yuuri. Victor aims to declare his love and secure Mr. Katsuki’s hand in marriage, but first he has to find him!

A legit Regency AU in which The Banquet happens Victorian-style and Victor, as always, falls head over heels for drunk Yuuri—who he then sets out to properly court. Victor is a rich, hopeless romantic and Yuuri is a sensible, normal guy trying to live his life. There’s lots of really cute, fluffy scenes between these two with a little bit of angst thrown in there to keep things interesting. It reads like a Jane Austen novel and has a lovely happy ending topped off with some smut!

2.) don’t want to be lonely just want to be yours by Linisy (Status: Incomplete) – Explicit

Genres: Idol AU, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Social Media, Alternating PoV

This time the flesh and blood Yuuri wasn't around to distract him, and he watched the video intently, hypnotized by the swing of Yuuri’s hips, the look in his eyes that burned with intensity and the strong, confident line of his shoulders. Yuuri was, as always, breathtaking.

Victor remembered their first meeting well. Yuuri was the last member to join the group. He was soft spoken, and he stood as if he were trying to make himself smaller, shoulders drawn inward, head tilted toward the ground, glasses slipping off his nose. Victor was surprised to hear that he was the second oldest behind Victor himself.

Everything changed the first time he saw him dance. - Vitya, Katsu, Yura, Beka and Chu make up the top idol group SVD. They've been through hell together, living in their tiny dorm and working toward the day they'd finally hit it big. That day has finally come, but sometime over the course of the past three years, Victor has fallen in love with Yuuri Katsuki.

An idol fic that’s full of social media shenanigans, glamour, and emotions. Based on KPop idol groups (like BTS), this fic is a such treat and I can’t even properly articulate why!!! Along with the humor, it’s also incredibly realistic regarding the hardships faced by idol groups due to the heavy restrictions placed on their personal lives by the company that “owns” them. It’s got the right mix of fun and angst and honestly I think about this fic every day. I can’t wait for more!!!!

3.) My Name on Your Lips by feelslikefire (Status: Complete – 108k words) – Explicit

Genres: Historical Fantasy, Magic, Arranged Marriage, Royalty, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics

Yuuri Katsuki has been betrothed to the High King’s son, Victor, since he was just a child; furthermore, as an omega, he’s forbidden from practicing magic in combat. For years, he’s been able to put off the former because the Prince was traveling abroad, and gotten around the latter by practicing with his mentor in secret.

Now Victor Nikiforov has finally returned home, and Yuuri is being summoned to the capital for their wedding. He needs a plan to put off marriage long enough to find a way to break the betrothal, while keeping his practicing from being discovered.

If only the Prince didn’t have other ideas.

(Or, the swords-and-sorcery arranged marriage AU. Updates weekly.)

This is one of my personal favorites, featuring all my fave things: fantasy, magic, battles, intrigue, and a slow-burn! It does have A/B/O elements but even if that’s not your cup of tea you’ll enjoy this fic for all the other wonderful things it has to offer. The world building is great and the plot keeps you interested at all times. Never a dull moment and has a great mix of tension, fluff, angst, etc. Watch these two dorks fall deeply in love while also getting a fully fleshed-out story. It’s beautifully written.

4.) Yuuri Enchanted by the__magpie (Status: Complete – 57k words) – Teen

Genres: Fantasy, Fairytale, Slow Burn

At birth, Yuuri Katsuki was given the gift of obedience, although he quickly learns as he grows up that it is a curse. He has to obey any command given to him, even if it puts him or others in danger. Too afraid to face the terrifying outside world, Yuuri stays in his home town of Hasetsu, until a chance encounter with Prince Victor urges him to venture outside of his safe bubble. Determined to break his curse, Yuuri begins on an adventure involving fairies, ogres, true love, and courage he never knew he had.

An Ella Enchanted AU (based more on the book)! A great fairytale read even if you’ve never read the book (or seen the movie). I love it to bits and that’s all I can say!

5.) Retrouvailles by persephoneggsy (Status: Complete – 32k words) – Teen*

Genres: Historical, Childhood Friends, Friends-to-Lovers, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics

retrouvailles: the feeling one gets after reuniting after a long time

After he presents as an Omega, Yuuri Katsuki is sent to study abroad for ten long years. When he returns, he’s far, far different from the adorable little boy that used to follow Victor around like a puppy.

Victor is shook.

A very sweet AU that has that regency-vibe. Features confident ballet dancer Yuuri and hopeless mess Victor. The Russian skating team is all one big family here and it’s great, while all the other skaters are dancers too. It has a shifting perspective between Victor and Yuuri, so we get to see what’s going on in both their heads. The A/B/O is pretty light apart from some plot details, so if that’s not your thing this fic is still very enjoyable. [*There is smut in the final chapter, which can be standalone/ignored, hence why the rating remains T overall.]

6.) A Place Like Home by whatsup_buttercup (Status: Complete -- 7k words) -- Explicit

Genres: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Post-series, Emotional Hurt/Comfort

“Do you still skate, Yuuri?” It’s bold of Hiroshi to use his first name, but the familiarity makes sense, considering what they’re discussing.

“No,” Yuuri says, empty. “Not anymore.”

Hiroshi reaches out and puts his hand over Yuuri’s. It’s a little hot from the tea. “If you choose me, we have a rink nearby. I’ll make sure you can skate every day.”

This is a heartbreaking A/B/O in which Yuuri ended things with Victor in Barcelona and is now under pressure to find a suitable mate. Luckily, Victor hasn’t give up on them, no matter what Yuuri may think. It’s a lovely and achingly sweet story, and I was so happy by the end!!!

7.) blood is thicker than by icanhinatashouyoutheworld (Status: Incomplete) – Teen

Genres: Enemies-to-Friends-to-Lovers, Custody Battle, Angst, Fluff, Eventual Romance

“You might be Yuri’s biological parent, Mr. Nikiforov. But I’m his father. If Yuri wants to go with you, that’s one thing,” Yuuri Katsuki’s voice flows quiet and dangerous into the room “but if he doesn’t, don’t think that you’re taking my child away from home,”

Or: Victor Nikiforov finds out he has a son. He wants full custody.

Katsuki Yuuri isn’t going to give up his child that easily.

Or: Victor and Yuuri fight a custody battle for Yurio. Shit happens.

Or: Yuri Plisetsky starts with one parent, and ends up with two.

A unique fic in which Victor is Yurio’s biological father, while Yuuri is his adoptive one. Yuuri is struggling to make ends meet and support his child while Victor is a rich supermodel. The relationship between Yuuri and Yurio is so achingly sweet and it’s very easy to root for Yuuri in this fic. It’ll be great to see how Yuuri and Victor eventually become friends and then lovers—so that they all become one big happy family!

8.) Kings in Couture by slightlied (Status: Incomplete) – Teen

Genres:Slow Burn, Alternate Occupations, Fashion

a devil wears prada au in which victor is the editor-in-chief of a fashion magazine, yuuri’s his new secretary, and instead of talking about his feelings, victor just sends him on a bunch of errands

A Devil Wears Prada-esque AU which I stumbled upon and am SO grateful for. It’s funny, cute, and features the whole cast in various roles. Yuuri is adorable and Victor is glamorous as ever. It’s such a fun read!!!

9.) Assassin’s Tango by MEIXIU (Status: Incomplete) – Explicit

Genres: Assassins AU, Secret Identity

They are the world’s most greatest assassins. Their identities are a secret, even from each other. One day, however, they discover that they have been assigned to kill one another and their reality comes crashing down on them both.

This is basically a Mr. and Mrs. Smith AU and I’m super excited about it! Features Victor as a suave hitman who’s still a hopeless romantic, and Yuuri as a clever honeypot—who’s juggling his job, school, and his new whirlwind romance. Lots of hot scenes mingled with fluff. Impending angst on the horizon, but the promise of a happy ending keeps me from crying too hard!

10.) The Rules for Lovers by ADreamingSongbird (Status: Incomplete) – Teen

Genres: Urban Fantasy, Urban Magic, Arranged Marriage, Mutual Pining, Royalty, Multiple PoV

Prince Yuuri Katsuki has a duty to his country, above all else (his desires, his dreams, and his happiness included), and he knows this alliance will help to ensure the safety of his people. That’s the only reason he accepts Prince Nikiforov’s hand in marriage. The pleasant surprise, of course, is the part where they fall in love along the way. The unpleasant one, well…

That’s a long story.

It’s always a treat to watch these two dorks fall hopelessly in love with each other. They might be engaged, but the mutual pinging intense and heart-wrenching. The political intrigue is just as compelling as Yuuri and Victor’s evolving relationship. The story shifts between many character’s perspectives, keeping things interesting. (And there’s some side Mila/Sara too!)

11.) I Write Sins, Not Tragedies by cuttlemefish (Status: Incomplete) -- Explicit

Genres: Arranged Marriage, Social Media, Mutual Pining, Romantic Comedy, Fluff

Things would be a little easier if Yuuri wasn’t so in love with his husband Viktor, especially considering they have an arranged marriage. Two years after their wedding, Yuuri and Viktor are incredibly in love, but can’t seem to get over the hump of their platonic union to consummate their marriage! Good thing Yuuri is the most (in)famous erotic fanfiction author of the Love in the Streets fandom. Now, he’s got the support of the Internet to figure out how to seduce his husband, if only he can continue to keep their identities a secret. Or, the AU in which everyone thinks Yuuri and Viktor have the perfect marriage full of adventurous sex when, in fact, Viktor sleeps in the guest bedroom and Yuuri writes erotic fanfiction to quench his thirst.

This is a HILARIOUS fic and that’s all I can really even say without doing this work a grave injustice. It’s very well-written and there’s no angst like I thought there would be. Just extreme thirst!!! Can’t wait to see these two get their shit together eventually and work off all that pent-up sexual frustration.

12.) Like a Fairytale by lucyamui (Status: Complete – 73.4k words) – Teen

Genres: Historical, Fairytale, Royalty, Fluff

In which Prince Victor gets swept off his feet at a royal banquet and will go to any length to find his ‘Cinderella’ Yuuri. (And Phichit is the fairy godmother who has no idea what he’s doing)

A Cinderella story in which the Grand Prix Banquet happens, in its own fairytale way. This story features enthusiastic Prince Victor and timid baker/pâtissier Yuuri. Along with Phichit as the Fairy God Mother! It’s fluffy, cute, and has plenty of mutual pining.

13.) lie to make me like you by cityboys (Status: Complete – 80k words) – Mature

Genres:Slow Burn, Alternate Occupations

It’s become a game, of sorts, to anyone privy to the fact that the pattern exists in the first place: ask Victor out at the beginning of the month, date for however many days, and wait for the end to come and for Victor to say, always: I couldn’t fall in love with you. Let’s break up.

Or, Victor is a retired actor looking for love, and Yuuri happens to be the (un)fortunate soul to unwittingly ask him out at the beginning of the month. Except relationships don’t come with a script, and it’s much harder understanding love than roles.

This is a wonderful and sweet slow burn featuring a lost Victor who’s trying to find something he doesn’t know he’s searching for, and a Yuuri who refuses to follow the “script” Victor seems to unwittingly run his life by. Yuuri takes no shit from anyone and constantly keeps Victor on his toes with how surprising he can be. I love both of these two here and watching them fit into each other’s lives is a real treat!

14.) All Eyes on Me by Kizuna_Auri (Status: Incomplete) – Explicit

Genres: Sex Worker AU (Camming), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Fluff, Smut

Yuuri, under the username of Eros, is a size queen omega who most certainly does not have an obsession with fellow camboy and legendary silver-haired alpha Aria. Just like Phichit is not the most meddlesome roommate known to man.

In which Yuuri and Victor are both camboys who happen to be fans of each other, and get set up to share their heat/rut for their audiences by their bffs and moderators, Phichit and Chris respectively. It’s surprisingly fluffy with alpha!Victor being a total sweetheart and omega!Yuuri being a shy bean who’s trying his best to keep up his Eros persona.This fic also highlights Yuuri’s insecurities and anxiety in a very realistic way and the difficulties than can come with being a camboy. The smut is intense and there’s plenty more plot on the horizon!

15.) The Promise of the World by pilindiel (Status: Incomplete) – Teen

Genres: Fantasy

When a self-conscious young man is cursed with an old body by a spiteful wizard, his only chance of breaking the spell lies with a self-indulgent yet insecure young wizard and his companions in his legged, walking castle.

The Howl's Moving Castle AU we all secretly wanted.

This is a straight up Howl’s Moving Castle AU!!!. Yuuri fits very naturally into the role of Sophie and Victor is a perfect Howl, but I assume we all knew that was the case already! It’s a very good read and has its own deviations from the source material to keep it feeling fresh.

16.) (Don’t) Ring the Wedding Bells by cuttlemefish (Status: Complete – 45k) – Explicit

Genres: Alternate Occupations, Social Media, Modern-day Cinderella

As (loosely) inspired by real life, this is the wedding reception AU (you didn’t ask for, but will get) in which Yuuri Katsuki catches the bride’s bouquet and (shortly after) gets smashed at a wedding reception, then dirty dances with his best friend, (sort of) seduces a (hot) platinum-haired trust-fund baby named Viktor, and ends up being hounded for his identity (by said trust-fund baby and his friends and family) on social media.

In which rich!Victor ends up getting woo’d by regular-guy!Yuuri at JJ and Isabella’s wedding reception and pulls out all the stops to find Yuuri again after he disappears. And does so in classic Victor style: as dramatically as possible. Meanwhile Yuuri’s just trying to live his life and forget the whole thing happened because of how embarrassing it was, but when you’ve basically become a meme, things get a little complicated. Still, Victor tries very hard to win Yuuri’s heart and Yuuri eventually finds that he’s very much in love. Naturally, there are some bumps along the way, but these two are made to last. It’s an overall fun AU that has its touching (and sexy) moments too! (May also be a part of a future series?)

17.) Imprisioned by Linisy (Status: Incomplete) – Mature

Genres: Supernatural (Ghosts), Slow Burn

For the past two years, Yuuri has been endlessly tormented by malevolent spirits. Just as he finds himself at the end of his rope, he meets Victor, an enigmatic man who possesses the ability to relieve him.

An AU in which both Yuuri and Victor have powers they don’t quite want, but find that the other might be what they need. Yuuri is a nervous ball of anxiety in this fic because of his ability to see ghosts, and Victor’s own ability leaves him generally isolated from people out of fear of getting too close to them. The whole concept is very unique and I absolutely adore cold(but kind)!Victor gradually warming up to Yuuri. Their interactions are great to read and get me every time!!!

18.) Bottle Me Your Smile by Ncj700 (Status: Incomplete) – Teen

Genres: Magic AU, Apothecary AU

In a tiny village on the edge of the kingdom, Yuuri Katsuki – common as mud Apothecary owner – embarks on a goal to achieve a childhood goal. With the help of the world’s greatest magical, he will achieve it.

A super cute fantasy AU that features Yuuri who’s a talented witch when it comes to potionmaking among other things, but is captivated by the powerful sorcerer Victor. Inspired, Yuuri tries to pursue a path of battlemagic, only to spectacularly fail and return to his home to live a quiet, humble life in his little apothecary. However, as fate would have it, Victor and Yuuri’s paths cross unexpectedly, and I can’t wait to see what adventures will unfold! Lovely world building and characterization.

19.) His Was Gold by AL_KILLER (Status: Incomplete) – Mature

Genres: Historical AU, Harem AU, Slow Burn, Angst

There were dozens of men and women in Tsar Victor Nikiforov’s harem, all of them attractive, ravishing, and beautiful. They wore provocative clothing, sweet smelling perfumes, and sparkling jewelry designed to catch the eye. All in hopes of being chosen by the Tsar for just one night.

Yuuri was the only one in the harem who didn’t want to be chosen. Yet, Yuuri was the only one the Tsar wanted.

I don’t usually read dark fics because I’m fairly sensitive and fragile, BUT! This one is amazingly well-written and evokes such powerful imagery that grips you and doesn’t let go. There’s an air of mystery here that is partly due to Yuuri’s limited perspective and also due to his unreliable-as-always narration, which the author uses masterfully. Even if you’re not a fan of dark fics, I suggest giving this one a go—it’s worth it. (Warnings for graphic descriptions of violence.)

20.) Story About You by heartsinhay (Status: Incomplete) – Teen

Genres: FanFic, Slow Burn, Humor

After his disastrous Japanese Nationals, Yuuri turns to the only thing that can comfort him: his old fanfic. Halfway across the world, Victor does the same thing.

Just picked up this fic the other day! Yes the “self-insert fic” is super cringey, but of course that’s the point! It’s hilarious to see poor Yuuri despair at his old writing (because, well, relatable) and to be caught off guard by a sudden fan of his works. I wonder who else would be suddenly and intensely interested in the little Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov ship in the figure skating “fandom,” haha! ;)

21.) 23. M. Looking for a challenge. by alykapedia (Status: Incomplete) – Teen*

Genre: Academic AU, Tinder AU, Humor,

“A cute boy with an ass like that says he’s up for a challenge and you send him a math problem?" (Giacometti, 2017).

A (not-so) comprehensive study on the (terrible) mating habits of (beautiful) grad student, Yuuri Katsuki, and (future) Nobel Laureate Viktor Nikiforov D. Sc.

(Or: That one where two physicists fall in love and set off a nuclear reaction. Except not really.)

Another new one that was recommended to me by friends and honestly, I LOVE IT. It’s the academic au you’ve always wanted and never knew you needed! Both Yuuri and Victor are adorable (yet crazy smart) in this and its just so clever in its writing. (*The rating might go up.)

Shameless self promotion:

1.) Celestial Gravitation (Status: Incomplete) – Explicit

Genres: Space AU, Fantasy AU, Action-Adventure, Political, Slow Burn

The Rossiyan Empire controls most of the galaxy. Most, but not all--not yet. The solution to the Emperor's ambitions lies in a rumored ancient weapon hidden on a lost world. The small, peaceful planet of Yamato holds the key to unlocking and utilizing said weapon. To secure their interests, the Emperor and his talented son--Prince Victor--venture to the planet to obtain the key: Prince Yuuri of Yamato. Knowing that any resistance could mean endangering his homeworld, Prince Yuuri and his family agree to the Emperor's terms. But he has foreseen this day coming and he will not go along with their plans as quietly as the Empire may expect him to.

What he hasn't foreseen, however, is the unlikely bond he develops with Prince Victor--a man he should be destined to hate, but finds he cannot.

If only galactic politics and ancient secrets didn't get in the way of love.

(A slow-burn, space-adventure AU in which there is advanced technology as well as magic.)

2.) Tessellation (Status: Incomplete) – Teen

Genres: Retelling, Victor PoV

It started at the banquet--the day Victor's life dramatically changed course. And from there, it was all uphill.

A Victor-POV project that follows the show episodically, for the most part. In other words: the show from Victor's point of view.

#yoi #yuri on ice #yuri!!! on ice #victuuri #viktuuri #fanfic #nyerus.txt #fic recs

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