#mouthes that i would just mix and match for new ocs

[freakshowcowboy]

been drawing one of my few m/f oc couples recently amd god theyre everytjign yo meeeeeee i love you bisexuals

[msbigredmachine]

Santa Daddy - A Roman Reigns One-Shot

All the Tribal Chief wants for Christmas is you.

PAIRING: Roman Reigns x OC

Word Count: 3.7k words

A/N: Sorry I brought this in so late, I got sick. Better late than never though! Enjoy!

-----------------------

It was Christmas morning. Your face was a picture of utmost focus as you wiped away the hair stuck to your forehead. It was a mini madness in your open layout kitchen, but at least it was your controlled chaos. In a few hours' time, a select mix of friends, co-workers and family members would converge at your place for a Christmas sleepover for the ages, to mark your first holidays as Roman Reigns' fiancée.

What a crazy eighteen months it has been for you. If anyone told you that within that timeframe, you would escape from your abusive boyfriend, move states, find a new job and a new place to live, you would have laughed in their face.

And Lord knows how you'd have reacted if they added that you'd be dating a professional wrestler in that same timeframe. And not just any wrestler, but the marquee name, the number one guy in WWE. But here you were. In the house you lived in together. Diamond ring on your finger. Prepping dinner and being quite giddy about it too. It had been a long time since you were giddy about anything, but that changed after you said yes to a coffee date with Roman a lifetime ago, it felt like now.

The honey-glazed chicken, roasted potatoes and gravy were ready, as were the salads and greens. Your centerpiece was undoubtedly the smoky Nigerian jollof rice you couldn't wait for everyone to taste. The chocolate was fragrant as it melted in the pot and the sweet crème caramel was setting nicely. You really wanted everything to go smoothly today. Dinner first, after which everyone would gather in the den for gift swaps, karaoke, play some raunchy adult games, then go to bed whenever they liked before leaving in the morning for their drives home. It was the perfect itinerary and you planned to make sure it was.

You were whisking the chocolate sauce on the stove when the shuffling of a familiar pair of size fifteens invaded your ears. Your heart pounded a little harder anfd your brown eyes lit up as he walked into the kitchen, drinking him in with your heart-shaped mouth curving into a smile. It was incredible how he gave off the exact same aura and energy as his grand entrances to the ring with just entering a small room. It was intimidating in the sexiest way.

"I see someone found one of their gifts." Your voice was soft and sweet - a tone you used only for him - with the gentle tinge of a tease. Your man looked so good in his red Christmas-themed pajama set that matched yours, which he complemented with a Santa hat covering the top of his head.

Roman came to stand behind you, wrapping his arms around you as he kissed your neck. "You look amazing in yours," he told you. Taking a deep breath, he welcomed your fragrance deep into his lungs. Your scent reminded him of hot chocolate on a cold winter's day and the roaring fireplace several feet away in the living room. It reminded him of home. You were home.

"Merry Christmas, my beautiful wife-to-be. I love you." His voice was a low, tender rumble in your ear, and you shivered slightly as his hands massaged your waist, his warm breath caressing the sensitive nape of your neck.

"I love you too, Daddy. Merry Christmas," you greeted back, absorbing the aura, the love and affection radiating from him like a bright light. Gosh, how did you get so lucky, winding up with this incredibly handsome, sweet, gentle giant of a man as a life partner?

"It smells so good in here, babe," Roman complimented, dipping his finger in the gravy boat for a taste. "I wish you woke me up to help out," he added sheepishly.

You shook your head immediately. "Don't worry about it. You needed your rest from all the traveling you've been doing."

"What time do the festivities start again?"

You turned off the stove to temp the chocolate down and turned to him. "Not till like, three."

"Hmm, and it's only nine-thirty now. That's a whole lotta time to ourselves," he pointed out, his eyebrows wiggling suggestively as he tugged at the waistband of your pajama pants. "I know I got a lot of presents, but Daddy wants to open this one first. Can I?" he asked with a syrupy sweet voice that promised something much more carnal.

"That depends on if you were naughty or nice this year," you replied.

The dramatic pout that came with his puppy dog eyes was so cute. "I promise I've been a good boy."

You arched a manicured brow at him. "You sure? Not even the tiniest bit bad?"

Roman puffed out his chest and grinned proudly. "I'm positive. I made my woman very happy this year. That counts as good, right?"

The glittering rock on your finger answered that question. "Definitely," you agreed.

"Exactly. By the way, look up."

You followed his pointed finger. A sprig of mistletoe dangled from the cabinet right above you. You met your fiancé's stormy stare, and your pussy purred from the mischief and lust you saw in them. You licked your lips with anticipation, knowing full well he was going to have his way with you, like he always did. Like you always wanted him to.

"C'mere." He guided your face to his own with his hand on the back of your neck. Your hands clutched his broad shoulders as your lips melded together in a soft, passionate dance. You stood in the kitchen for what felt like hours, worshiping each other's mouths, the smacking of your lips and hushed sighs mingling with the soft Christmas ballad playing through Alexa.

As you kissed, Roman couldn't help but get turned on. He let his hands slip down into the back of your pants and over your backside, molding your bare ass cheeks in his palms while you pressed yourself against him. You continued the increasingly intense makeout session, neither of you seeming to be in any hurry to stop.

"Santa Daddy thinks you've been a good girl this year," he murmured against your lips, "so good that you deserve a special present."

"Mmm, I love presents, Santa Daddy," you replied, allowing him to pick you up and place you on the countertop. He stepped into the space between your thighs and wrapped your legs around his waist, while your arms curled around his shoulders as you dove into the kiss. He caressed your mouth with his luscious tongue in a way that made your knees weak. Your hands and his moved in unison, pulling off each other's clothes until you were both completely nude. The second your top was off, his fingers teased your nipples, which instantly pebbled at his touch. His broad chest was hard and warm against your palms, and you scratched your nails along his ribs just to hear him hiss in a breath right before his mouth latched onto your throat. You whimpered and gripped his hair. God, his mouth and tongue felt so good on your skin. He nibbled and sucked on you while massaging your right breast, and you felt the pit of stomach heat up with the rabid need for your pussy to be filled. The moisture pooling between your thighs could probably fill a lake.

With your eyes closed as you savored the sensations, you never quite saw him take the pot of chocolate, dip the whisk in it and wave it over your nipples. The chocolate that dripped onto your skin seared with heat, but his tongue was there to quickly lick it away before the pain registered as anything more than a turn-on.

"Mmm, that's tasty," he commented.

You watched him and his lethal mouth like a hawk. "You like that, Daddy?" you inquired, resting back on your elbows.

"Oh, I do." He drizzled more chocolate over your breasts. Your mind swam as he took his time sucking each soft flesh, activating your erogenous pressure point. He then dipped his finger in the warm chocolate then made a long trail down your lower belly. He licked that away, then used two fingers to paint your entire pussy with the hot chocolate, his face a mask of concentration as he worked on his masterpiece. Your body jerked and you sucked in a breath at the fire that raged between your legs. Then his tongue was down there, splitting your soft folds apart to delve into your sweetened essence.

Yanking the Santa hat off his head, your fingers threaded through his messy ponytail, pulling his face flush against you, writhing against him and begging for more. "Unnnh, babe, that feels so good," you groaned, your brain growing fuzzy as he French-kissed your pussy, pleasure licking at you with the same devastating impact as his tongue. "Fuck, baby, I love you!"

"I know," Roman moaned back, pushing your thighs further apart. "Spread your legs, baby...wider," he instructed you, his burly arms winding around your thighs and yanking you closer to him. "Mmm, perfect. Imma eat you off this counter, girl."

And he was. With gusto. Desperate for release, you tried to squirm but he had you pinned down to the kitchen island, keeping you still. You were panting hard as the tension coiled tighter in your belly. You were almost there, just a step away from that cliff, when he nuzzled his face against your wet pussy and flicked your hard little clit with his thumb. The pressure sent you over the edge and you moaned through the orgasm, your back arching against the cool surface of the counter. Your string of moans was an aphrodisiac to Roman, and he kept up his tender licking and sucking until your legs fell from his shoulders and you gave a shuddering sigh.

"Jesus," you whispered.

Roman resembled a kid in a candy store with his beard stained with cum and chocolate, eyes bright and lust-filled. He looked up, licked his lips with a smug smile and said, "Nothing tastes as good as you, baby," he praised, and your ego swelled. He always knew the right things to say to make you feel good. Twining your fingers in his, he pulled you upright and kissed your lips, sharing your tangy sweetness with you.

"Your turn," you announced, and slid carefully off the counter, pushing him to sit on one of the stools. You moved to take the pot of chocolate, but the three mason jars filled with homemade caramel sauce caught your eye. A devious little idea popped up in your head. Grabbing one, you unscrewed the cover, licking the sauce around the rim before grabbing Roman's dick with one hand, bringing the jar up to his plum-shaped tip.

"Fuck, girl," Roman shivered, his eyes wide when you dunked his dick right inside the jar. Your eyes shone excitedly as you pulled him back out, the thick, succulent syrup dripping down his pipe and around the rim of your hand.

"Mmm, look at all this sweetness on your dick, Daddy," you moaned, bending at the waist to capture his cock between your lips, your husky sigh vibrating against his sensitive skin. Roman moaned softly as you angled your bobbing head, sliding his dick further down your throat with the same rhythm as your hand stroking him, the sensations leaving him boneless.

"Shiiiit, just like that, baby, eat up my dick like a good girl, how's it taste, huh?" he managed to ask.

"Good," you hummed, working your tongue from the tip of his dick down to the veiny underside of his shaft, causing his breathing to grow labored as his cock throbbed in your hand.

"Oh my god, your tongue, dem juicy lips," Roman clutched your hair, watching you intensely. "Keep suckin' my dick, baby, show me what that mouth do."

Wordlessly, you drew his cock deeper into your mouth with a deep breath and started sucking him with only your jaw doing all of the work. His dick was more than sizable, but was no match for your mouth. Daddy had trained you well to handle all of that fat dick with your mouth and pussy. You paused to scoop more caramel sauce with his dick like a spoon, licking off every drop off his shaft with lavish swipes of your tongue.

"Put some on my balls," Roman instructed.

He held his dick up and out of the way while you rubbed a mix of chocolate and caramel all over his balls. As you sucked on them, Roman slowly massaged his dick, occasionally slapping your face with it. The visual of your arched back mesmerized him, the deliberate twerking of your plump ass cheeks as you pleasured him short-circuited his brain. Even hotter was the sight of his balls hidden in your mouth and the sauce mixture smeared on your chin. The contrast of the dark substance on your brown skin was so fucking sexy.

"That's it, baby, that's it...shit!" The Tribal Chief's deep voice was a strangled gasp, his breaths becoming even shallower as you popped his balls out to recapture his dick. His eyes rolled in the back of his head, lost in toe-curling pleasure as you lodged him in the back of your throat, your warm mouth swallowing around the base of his shaft like a suction. It was his turn to fidget in place, his fingers digging into your scalp as ecstasy loomed ever closer. "Baby I'm gon' come," he whined.

You moaned at his warning, the vibrations shuddering around his length. Your eyes locked with his as he started to fall apart. With a loud groan, he held your head still and gasped helplessly with each spurt of his cum gushing down your throat, his hips bucking from the force of his release. His eyes squeezed shut as he felt you swallow, drinking your fill, your tongue lapping up whatever you spilled. You pulled him out and gulped air back into your lungs, then glanced back up at him with those mischievous pretty eyes, pursing your pouty lips against his blunt head and making his cock twitch in your grasp.

"How the fuck am I still hard?" he half-laughed, half-choked, earning a proud grin from you.

"I got that magic mouth, baby," you declared haughtily, twisting your hand around him in gentle soothing strokes, "And you got this magic dick. You gonna put it on me, Santa Daddy? I know you want to."

"Damn right." He got off the chair and spun you around, bending you over the kitchen table. The tabletop remained cold against your bare, chocolate-streaked skin, and you shivered in response. It was only seconds before he guided your hands to grip the edges of the table in front of you. You moaned softly as he nudged your legs wider apart, hiking your ass slightly higher to press himself up against you.

"Ay, Alexa, turn that shit off, I wanna hear my girl scream for me," he growled at the air, and you burst out laughing when the kitchen fell into an abrupt silence.

His hard dick throbbed between your ass cheeks. He ran the thick head up and down the slit of your pussy lips. When he pushed the first few inches in, you whined pitifully. Your velvety womanhood pulled him in, eking a groan from the Tribal Chief as his big hands roamed your back and ass. His thrusts were slow at first, savoring the feel of your tight, wet pussy tugging at him with each languid stroke. You responded by bucking up against him, luring him even deeper into your body. You moaned together in mutual pleasure.

"God, so tight, so wet...bomb ass pussy," he grunted, smacking your ass and squeezing on the soft juicy flesh, knowing it would make you that much wetter as he stretched you open with that good dick. Your keening moans were nothing but fuel for him; he knew you loved it when he fucked you deep and hard and a little rough, ticking all your little sexual boxes that no one but him knew about. His rhythm was steady yet heavy, keeping you on edge with deep strokes right up on your g-spot. Leaning over you, he swept your hair out of your face to kiss your cheek, a hushed moan slipping from his throat when you squirmed against him, pressing your ass closer to his hips every time he pushed into you.

With the table pressing into your belly and his body trapping you against it, you felt his dick swell inside you, girthier and harder with every thrust. Your body was so sensitized from your previous orgasm that you felt another one build in record time. You wanted your second nut so bad, and you rolled your ass against him, hoping to put enough pressure on your clit to bring it on.

"Unnh yeah, throw that sexy ass back at me," Roman grunted with another hard smack to your ass which jiggled from the impact of his big hand. Said hand then made its way into your hair, the other gripping your waist as he grinded against you and you against him. He loved it; loved you, loved the feel of your bodies moving together, your juices dripping all over his dick, loved the fact that you couldn't seem to control the noises you were making as the kitchen echoed with the erotic sound of them.

"Oh, baby, I'm fuckin' close," you whimpered through your moans.

"How close?" he asked, his lips brushing soft kisses between your shoulder blades and trailing them down your back. His warm breath and his soft beard tickled your skin, and too aroused to answer, you merely whimpered again and bounced your ass more impatiently on his dick. The tension was there in your belly, swirling around so close to explosion, and you needed it like you needed air.

Roman's grip on your hair strengthened, anchoring himself to you. "Don't move. Lemme get that pussy." He was like a Ferrari engine, accelerating with harder pummeling thrusts that filled you to the brim. He was now balanced on just the balls of his feet in an effort to drive deeper into you, pounding you out until you were leaking down your thighs and all over his dick and balls. It felt so good. Too good.

"Yes, Daddy, beat that shit up...unnhhh, my god, I'm coming," you moaned long and loud as you unraveled like flimsy wrapping paper. Stars sparked behind your eyelids as the orgasm tore through you, leaving you shaking uncontrollably from its intensity.

"Mmm, there you go sweetheart, soak my dick,  come all over it," he snickered proudly, his tongue tracing the shell of your ear. "Was that nut good, baby?"

"Yes, Daddy, so good," you grinded out, lightheaded, your eyes glazed over and unfocused, even more so as you felt his hand spread over the back of your neck and hold you down to the countertop, his hips winding against your ass as he stayed burying his long, girthy dick in your warm, snug depths.

"Good, cuz I'm 'bout to nut too...shit, baby girl, this pussy amazing...You gon' make me put a kid in you..."

The thought of him breeding you with his seed had your pussy clenching around his cock, the suckling sensation reducing his husky taunts into yet another helpless moan. You could tell from his breathing that he was indeed close, his frenzied thrusts becoming sloppier as white-hot pleasure surged through both of your bodies in incredible waves.

"Oh shit, Y/N," Roman grunted, squeezing your hips for dear life as something snapped inside him. Slamming his dick into you one last time, he went completely rigid with a shout as he came hard for you. The warm wet spurts of cum emptying inside you caused your body to shiver against his as you milked his dick dry. His heavy weight kept you pressed into the hard marble table, both of you so limp that it didn't seem to matter that you couldn't breathe. Somehow, you managed to stand back upright, making him do the same behind you. As he wrapped you up in a hug, he was still inside you, and you tilted your head up to gently bite his bottom lip before licking at his tongue. It made him smile, and you couldn't help but smile back as he shared a long, greedy kiss with you before finally pulling out with a groan, slapping your backside one more time as he stepped away.

"Save some of that chocolate stuff for us," he said, grinning when you shot him a questioning look. "I want you to use 'em on me again later tonight."

You picked up the two sets of pajamas off the floor. "Hmm, you won't be too tired from dinner and all that?"

"Too tired to fuck you? Never, my baby girl."

"Then I'll make sure to bring a jar of each." You laughed as his Adams apple and his cock bobbed simultaneously, his imagination running wild with all the nasty things you would do to him.

"Good idea. Nah, scratch that, great idea," he corrected himself with a chuckle, lifting you into his arms bridal-style and carrying you out of the kitchen. "Right now, we both need a shower."

"Why do I got a feeling this 'shower' is gonna keep our guests waiting?"

He laughed with you and ascended the stairs. "You know me so well."

It was two p.m. by the time he was through with you. When you determined that your legs could function properly again, you dragged yourself out of his bed, changed into another set of pajamas and made your way back downstairs to put the finishing touches on the food and the rest of the house. You had just finished cleaning up the kitchen when this man came up behind you and ran his hands all over your body. His dick was hard.

"Again?" you breathed, biting back a gasp when he started undoing the strings of your pants. The guests would be arriving anytime soon.

"Just one more," he groaned huskily in your ear, grabbing a jar of chocolate sauce, "I've missed you so much, baby, I need to taste you one more time..."

About half an hour later, the doorbell rang. Jey and his wife Larissa were your first guests. When the front door opened, they took one good look at you and Roman; disheveled clothing, hair out of place, the smear of sauce over your left breast and on the corner of Roman's lips, and put two and two together.

"Y'all nasty," Larissa giggled and entered the house, with Jey merely shaking his head behind her.

🎄THE END🎄

-----------------

This is definitely my final story for the year. I'm so proud of how many I was able to churn out and EXTREMELY happy and proud of how much you all like it. Thank you all, I appreciate all your support and feedback more than you'll ever know! 🥺

Please leave feedback/comments. I appreciate them as they help me improve my writing.

Thank you all so much for reading!

Banner made by me. Credit to the owners of the pics and gifs.

TAGGING: @thesamoanqueen @herwickedlittlesins @harmshake @jxtina-86 @romanreignseater @harlem11680 @fame-ass-ers @southerngirl41 @alyyaanna @squishyguishy @jstarr86 @murrylove @reci24 @thewarlordsworld @mzv11 @cozyaliensuperstar7 @jeysuso @nayys-world @hunnidmilly @cyberdejos2 @papireigns-05 @niknakbucks92 @captainwithoutmakingitlove @sovereigngoth @aisharmi @kennedi0818 @alichesmi  @questionable-behaviour @tribalchiefreigns @2-muchsauce @thatbxtchsblog @raya-hunter01 @marchi36753 @lovelysuccess @christinabae @wooahmiri @thatonecarebear @tabletheofhead @rheaanddamianfan @vebner37 @hanley1577 @princessesareforsuckers @-naturally @joannasteez @bbygirlky18 @lilucey @theninthwonder @melaninsugababy @chocovibesonly @msbluehaz3 @scarlettnoir01 @heerah34 @empressdede @tbmotw @darkangelchronicles @visionarymode @marasdeathnote @aintnorainbows @meggylynnloves @shantinextdoor @harlemblipster @trc-punzel @afterdarkprincess @nbanenefrmdao @sassginaswanmills @purplehairgawdess @holisticcoach

Click here if you want to be on the tag list. If I’ve forgotten anyone please let me know so I can add you.

[maineventbts]

The Boy Is Mine

pairing: jey uso x oc

word count: 2.1k

warnings: cursing , some innuendoes at the end , that’s pretty much it.

note: i haven’t written anything in a while , im just testing the waters. pls be kind <3

It was Monday, meaning you were walking into the arena for tonight's show. Typically, you enjoyed coming to work; you had the best job in the world. However, this was the last place you wanted to be today. Your silver suitcase was rolling behind you as your best friend power walked to keep up with your quick strides. Your goal was to reach your destination as quickly as possible, avoiding as much contact as you could. You greeted some staff and fellow coworkers before rushing into the female locker room. Holding the door open for your friend, as she gives you a side eye on her way into the room. "What is wrong with you? You need to slow the fuck down," Nia said with her hands on her hips, trying to catch her breath.

You refused to tell her the reason for your speed walking into the arena. In your mind, the reasoning made you sound like a high schooler, and you were grown as hell. You and your longtime friend, who happens to be Nia's cousin, were going through a rough patch. You and Josh were not just typical friends; you were practically in love with each other. You couldn't get enough of each other from the day you first met. Sitting together in catering, riding to shows together, even having him hold your purse sometimes. You two even shared many steamy moments in private. No one ever questioned your closeness until a new person was added to the mix. Newer talent, Nikita, the Bane of your existence. Because you and Josh were not an official item, he was fair game for anyone. However, you were ready to go to bat for that man, like he put a ring on your finger.

"Hello? Girl, you almost killed me; this better not be about Josh again." Nia shakes your shoulders, pulling you from your daze. You playfully smack her hands off of your body, "my bad, I'm just a little tired today." Not believing your excuse, Nia opens her mouth, preparing to remind you of your busy day. "And I know we have a tag match tonight, I'll be focused," you beat her to the punch.

After setting up your space in the locker room, you and some of the other women head to catering. You've only had a matcha latte today, and if you didn't eat anything soon, your body would give up. Thankfully, there is always a diverse spread of delicious food, so you never have to worry about going hungry. You grab a Gatorade and pack your plate with three tacos and rice. As soon as you sit down with Nia and Naomi, you notice Naomi's continuous glances at you. "Yes, Naomi," you say, already knowing what was about to come next.

"Why are you ignoring that man," referring to her brother-in-law, Josh. Unsurprisingly, he told his twin brother Jon, who definitely told Trinity. You poke at the food on your plate before looking up at the girls, "I'm not ignoring hi-," Trinity put her hand up, not wanting to hear whatever bullshit you were about to spew. "I literally watch you speed walk past him at every show. And he won't stop calling me and Jon to see what's wrong with you." It was obvious that Trinity wanted to help you both, but you wanted to avoid being lectured by your friends. "He out here entertaining other bitches, what am I supposed to do," your words came out in a whisper in an attempt to keep your fellow workers out of your business.

You’ve been talking about Josh too much because he comes around the corner like Beetlejuice. In an instant, your head is down, and you begin eating your food, praying that he'll ignore you. His eyes are on you instantly, but to your surprise, he doesn't approach you. Instead, he sits down with Xavier and Kofi, at the table beside you. Your back was toward him, but Nia's constant looks in his direction weren't helping your paranoia. "Stop looking over there," you mouth to her, causing her to look down at her plate.

Just as you thought things couldn't get any worse, Bane arrives here to ruin your day. "What up Nikita," you hear Xavier greet the girl, who takes a seat at their table. Your jaw tightens, and your grip on your fork is deadly. Her presence makes you want to flip every table in the room and slap the taste out of her mouth. "I'm liking the little blue in the back, Josh; did you just dye it?" just the sound of her voice raises your body temperature. Smoke is practically barreling out of your ears as you try to remain calm. His hair color is none of her business, and why didn't he tell you about it? Your mind is racing so fast that you don't notice Trinity and Nia's concerned facial expressions. If you didn't leave this table now, Nikita would be laid out on it. Gathering your trash and personal items, you get up from the table and get away from catering as quick as possible. Little did you know, Joshua was staring at you the entire time with puppy dog eyes, praying that you'd look his way.

Back in the locker room, you begin to prep for your match. Earbuds snug in your ears as you riffle through your suitcase, trying to find the best gear to wear. After a swift search, you pull out one of your strategically distressed t-shirts, trunks, and kickpads. You change in one of the stalls and throw on your black boots. "You want to look like me so bad," Nia lets out a laugh as you both come out of the stalls wearing the same colors. The show had already started, and it was time for you two to get in the makeup chair.

"Do you want to go with a neutral type of look tonight," Melinda, one of the makeup artist, always asked what you wanted before she worked her magic. You went with the neutrals, and so did Nia. You and the girls are enjoying small talk as she puts the finishing touches on your face. "Y/N," your body instantly tensed up, and you refused to look away from the girl in front of you. Nia instantly looked away and continued to chat with the other girls. "Girl, i know you did not," you mutter, shocked that she'd leave you to deal with this alone.

"Yes, Josh," you fight the urge to face him, trying to stay strong. If you looked that man in the eyes, you just might let everything go and fold. "Can we go somewhere and talk," he moves to stand before you, not allowing you to avoid him any longer. "I'm getting my makeup done," you quickly respond, hoping to excuse yourself from the situation. "Actually, you're all done now," Melinda pats your shoulder as she ushers you to get out of the chair. Your eyes widen as you've just been thrown to a wolf by your favorite makeup artist. You thank the woman, realizing that you can't hide anymore. "Come on," you tilt your head towards the far end of the hall, which happens to be empty.

"Why you ignoring me," Joshua jumps straight to the point, looking down on you. His body looks tense as he folds his hands in front of him. It was beyond evident that he was just as nervous as you were, if not more. "We been friends for years, you know you my girl," you could hear the hurt in his voice, and it completely shattered your heart. The last thing you wanted to do was hurt Josh, but you were hurting too. "If I'm your girl, why are you flirting with other bitches? It's supposed to be me and you, Joshua; this is not a group thing." You could hardly hold eye contact with him anymore; his eyes looked angry and apologetic, while you looked like you were about to burst into tears.

He cupped your jaw, forcing you to look at him. "Ain't nobody flirting with nobody. She just follows me and the guys around sometimes, you need to stop trippin-"you smack his hand away from your face. How dare he accuse you of being dramatic. "I need to stop trippin? You won't even let Dolph sit next to me anymore. Anybody gets friendly with me, and you get upset, but I can't be mad at you for getting fresh with someone that ain't me," no longer were you scared to look at him; you were practically fuming. Head cocked to the side with your arms crossed over your chest, "you're so fucking backwards, Josh. If you wanna flirt with other people, if you want to fuck with other people, go ahead!" The two of you sat in silence for a moment, unsure of what even happened. He clenched his jaw, as you tried your best to hold back the flood that was ready to fall from your eyes.

"Fuck you, Josh. I'm so fucking done with you," you turn away from him, not wanting to waste any more of your time on someone who wasn't truly committed to you. Head hanging low as you speed past everyone in the hall. Joshua watches you walk away from him, knowing that you need some time to cool off. Though you might not understand now, he loves you more than anything else in this world, and he wouldn't let you walk out of his life that easily.

The rest of your evening was bearable. You won your tag match with Nia but had to go up against the one person you wanted to strangle. Luckily for you, Josh was nowhere to be found; now it was time to get the hell out of there before he magically appeared again. You and Nia were outside, waiting for Saraya to bring the car around. Sitting on your suitcase with your earbuds in, this was the most peace you had gotten all day.

As Saraya pulls up in front of you, a hand drapes over your shoulder. You recognized that soft yet heavy hand anywhere. "What do you want Josh," your words come out very monotonous as you pull the earbuds from your ears. "You riding with me tonight," his words sounding more like a statement than a question. You shrug his hand off of your shoulder before rising from your seat. "No, I'm going with the girls to-” before you could finish your sentence, Joshua is holding your suitcase along with his, "you gon' stop running from me. You know just how much I love you, even though we haven't made anything official, I've made it more than clear that you my number one." Before you can get a word out, he continues, "I shouldn't have let her get that close to me; that's my fault entirely. But never once did I feed into her advances or little flirtatious behavior. I'm not checking for anybody that's not you, ma," with every word he says, you feel your face get hotter. You weren't sure what you were expecting, but you didn’t think that he’d profess his love for you outside the arena.

"I know we ain't made nothing official or anything, but I wanna change that. I don't want no one thinking they got a chance with you, and I know you don't want that either." Joshua advances towards you, letting go of the suitcase handles. Hands slowly wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer to his body, "be my girl, officially." You couldn’t resist it anymore, the last thing you wanted was to keep fighting with Josh. Your hand comes up to the back of his head, strands of his blue hair through your fingers, "I'd like that very much," your words come out softly as you feel your face burning. His eyes were scanning all over your body like this was the first time he’s ever seen you. You couldn’t lie, you did get some new braids in and did your makeup a bit different lately, hoping he would notice. He wasn’t the only one staring, you found yourself drooling over his tattooed arms and the shine from his grill. It’s been a minute since y’all got together and you needed him now.

"Kiss her! Be a man," you hear Saraya and Nia yelling from the car, you completely forgot that they were waiting on you. Leaning down, Joshua carefully places his lips against yours. Wasting no time, you parted your lips, allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth. Your nails are softly combing through his hair as his hands start to roam your body. You hear squeals in the background before slowly pulling away from his lips. Gloss slightly smudged on your face and on his lips. Your mouth curves into a smile before you turn your attention to your friends. "I'll see y'all in the next town," you raise your middle finger at the pair before gathering your items to leave with your new man.

"You gon' apologize for ignoring me all this time," he looks over at you, licking his lips as you help him load up the rental. Already knowing what kind of apology he wanted, you shake your head, "nah, I've been under so much emotional stress lately. I think you owe me an apology, maybe even two," you giggle as he closes the trunk. "I’ma give you whatever you want baby," he says, hand smacking your ass before you walk over to the passenger door.

[w0rmdahl]

the ring girl — MM

gif ©: magnusedom, mkayoung, ayoedebiris

film: monkey man (2024)

synopsis: tiger's temple never had a ring girl, nor one as straightforward as their first would turn out to be. however, unbeknownst to anyone who'd interacted with her in the workplace, she was no mere ring girl — at least she wouldn't be by the end.

word count: 3.7k

featuring: kid, (oc) ishani, tiger

warnings: (it's monkey man be fr) strong language, misogynistic themes

a/n: pssst! this was originally just an outline for me (similar to 'the beginning' for ilyily) but i wanted to provide backstory b4 i posted anything else for MM! hope you enjoy :)

he remembered the first time he saw her; the black sheep with her head down as she entered the locker room of the arena, a meager woman compared to the grimy crowd of men housed inside. like a lamb in the lions' den — or tiger's temple, perhaps — eyes would begin to collect on the anomaly in the room and people started to further notice the oddities of the situation, including himself as he peeled off the signature monkey mask. without the latex obstructing his view kid could now see the substantial gashes and bruises along her skin, the determination in her eyes as she walked herself right up to his boss, jaw clenching once he'd noticed her.

"what the fuck are you doing here?"

"you're tiger, is that right?"

the greasy-haired man sneered. "and who the fuck are you?"

kid would slam his locker shut from his place across the room and, though he was all ready to go and rest for the night, he'd linger around to keep an eye on tiger whilst he spoke with the willful woman peering up at him through narrowed eyes.

"you need a ring girl." she said simply — matter-of-fact. "i need a job. maybe we could work something out."

tiger's face would screw up into a look of disbelief as he glanced around the audience surrounding to see the commotion, a mixed reaction from the crowd bringing his attention back to her. he'd mirror her folded arms and cocked brow before responding half as professional and twice as patronizing, utterly unsuspecting of the girls' smile that would follow.

"we don't need a ring girl."

the dark-haired woman almost chuckled. "course you do; why do you think ring girls exist?"

tiger now actually took a moment to ponder her query — the first, not the second. the second was obvious. but that was exactly why he paused; this random girl off the street was opting to be ogled at in a bad part of town just for a job. who knows, maybe it could even bring in new audience members — but his wildest ideas more focused on the limitations of her willingness. how far would she be willing to go for money?

a cagy smile would curl the boss's bitten lips before he laughed and swiped a misplaced hair behind his ear. "you..." he trailed off and shook the deceit from his thoughts, "you've got yourself a deal, there. come back tomorrow at 4 and we'll talk details."

she'd offer a mere nod before beginning to turn, halted by tiger's voice booming off the tile flooring once more. "wait! what the fuck is your name?" the woman casted her sharp gaze over her shoulder when the pseudonym left her mouth.

"ishani."

tiger would then be abandoned to stew in his suspicion about her as she exited the same way she came, leaving the room to erupt in conversations left utterly unheard by kid who'd exited out the back door as soon as ishani was out of sight. by the time he laid down with his eyes on the ceiling fan, the occurrences of the day wholly left his mind, replaced with the abrasive memories that kept his eyes open until the sun rose. and then, just like every day, he would return to the ring once more to be beaten until the crowd was happy — the only difference being the new ring girl wearing half as many clothes as when he'd last seen her and a smile that didn't convince the monkey man one bit.

the months that followed ishani's arrival took some adjusting to get used to. matches changed, payment changed, tiger changed. at first it was just getting used to a woman being in the building — especially one dressed the way ring girls did. the other men were like starved dogs in overheard conversations that had him keeping a closer eye on them — to the point that he began noticing each and every snide comment that accused of 'not belonging' and weird notes left from a 'secret admirer' on her mirror. it was all tough to stomach even for him so he couldn't begin to imagine how she felt walking home at night.

but then it was the audience that changed. sure, she was booed here and there at the beginning in favor of the actual fighting they'd come to bet on, but after a while she started gaining traction. there were men who'd come only to cheer when she stepped into the ring with that stupid sign, eagerly waiting by the back door until her shift was over to ask for her number or who to bet on next. there was even an incident where a sold-out show for two unpopular fighters was terminated early due to the absence of life in the crowd when ishani wasn't visible, but the important detail to tiger hadn't been the lack of enthusiasm for the actual fight, it was the attention and money he made without the fight.

the locker room became a slaughterhouse by the time tiger started favoring ishani. talks of how 'desirable' she was turned into how pesky she was, perverted smooches turned into arrogant scoffs, and all the while ishani remained totally uninterested in it all. she kept her head down and did what she had to do, which often entailed skimpier outfits than typical or (objectively worse) humoring the sweaty patrons for 900 rupees an hour. either way, she continuously endured the bitter tasks put forth day by day without ever making a fuss until finally, on an evening as regular as any other, she seemed to snap.

it came after an apparently tough day when she walked into the building with her hair tied in a rat's nest at the top of her head and dark circles under her eyes to emphasize the frown creased besides her nostrils. tiger had begun calling out to her as she swung open the door to her personal storage closet and, without uttering a word, slammed the door shut behind her. the peeved man would then look around to see if anyone else had witnessed this variation in her demeanor, naive to the eyes behind the monkey mask watching his every move under a microscope.

she was sour from that point on, the perpetual scornful knitting of her brows evident to anyone who cared to look from the beginning of her shift until the very end. she'd kept her mouth sewn shut the entire day even when tiger called her over before she could change and grab her stuff to leave the vile workplace — even when he'd asked her to 'have a drink' with a customer for another hour — even when said customer spilt his drink down her front. only when kid noticed the grubby hand on her thigh creeping inward did ishani finally release whatever had been caught on her tongue all day, her own drink now being thrown in his face.

"fuck off you worthless pig! keep your dirty dick in your pants and leave me the fuck alone!"

any and all conversations from lingering individuals in the vicinity would cease entirely upon hearing the howl released from the formerly well-mannered ring girl. caught in the sights of her boss and coworker for two entirely different reasons, ishani shot up from her seat to storm off from the man at the table, called after only by tiger as she made her way toward the locker rooms.

"ishani!"

she didn't even glance back at him, continuing her way out of the central arena to leave the bewildered audience behind as she disappeared into the employee-only section of the building. kid would catch himself rushing through any leftover tasks before he could go home with ishani in the forefront of his mind, holding on to the hope that he could run into her before she'd left and offer some sympathy for her day — only to find the locker room entirely empty when he grabbed his bag. with the release of a breath he didn't know he'd been holding, he'd opt instead to simply keep an eye on her tomorrow and make sure she was alright, stepping out the back door with slumped, aching shoulders.

— and then, as he took in a deep breath of the fresh air on the second step, his eyes would be quicker than his mind to notice the figure in his peripheral. by the time he recognized her, ishani's attention was already on him, sitting slumped against the brick wall with a quirked brow at the lanky man on the eroding staircase.

finally, after months of mutual intrigue and accidental eye contact with the other who seemed to be watching when they weren't looking, kid and ishani would interact for the first time with a comfortable breeze between them and hushed voices under the twinkling stars.

"are you okay?" he'd asked sincerely. the wind brushed her hair from her cheeks as she replied, "yeah. all good." and yet, he could've sworn he'd noticed a glum cadence in her words.

"do you want me to call a taxi?"

"it's alright, but thank you." she produced a small smile identical to the other sad grins presented throughout the day. "just waiting for him to go home before i leave."

him — the man at the bar. kid was already leaning on his heel to turn back inside. "i can tell him to leave." he could almost see the rain clouds looming over her head begin to part as her downturned smile grew brighter, unalloyed while her shoulders straightened out.

"i'd appreciate that."

she spoke with the gratitude obvious in her sparkling eyes, and so, with the simple nod of his head, kid would then head back inside to oblige. he'd even go as far as to exit out the front door for his walk home just to make sure the perverse man didn't turn back around, all the while contemplating his limited interactions with the ring girl. unbeknownst to him, this decision would finally grace ishani with the first real smile she'd experienced in a long while, one that remained imprinted all the way home as if to remind herself how to do it.

the days following this incident would proceed as normal if not for the instances when their eyes caught from across the room once more, a different kind of smile on her lips than the one he’d grown used to. it caught him totally off guard the first time and left him utterly unsure of how to react or respond before she was whisked away by tiger to fulfill another duty in the day. however, by the second honest smile kid had become certain this wasn't just a fluke, mustering the courage and the will to push through the throbbing in his jaw as he replicated her grin. it wasn't nearly as genuine or convincing as ishani's, but it was there, and that's all that really mattered in her eyes.

day by day, little by little, kid and ishani's smile-laced glances would grow friendlier and friendlier despite their lack of communication — even getting to the point where others had begun to notice.

"making after work plans, there, kong?" cobra would snicker as he took a step closer to the beast on the other side of the ring.

"stop talking and hit me."

it wasn't until a little over two weeks after they'd spoken that ishani and the monkey man would be in contact with one another again, finding themselves interacting once more due to a complex work situation;

he was waiting against the wall of tiger’s perpetually locked office door when he’d noticed her enter the locker room — practically barging through the greasy guys with hands balled into fists as she walked right past him and up to tiger's office. she'd knock with heavy knuckles against the chipped oil paint and, after a brief pause, the door would swing open to reveal their hasty-looking employer with an astounded and somewhat irritated expression on his face.

"ishani," tiger hummed with condescension weaved in his tone "i don't suppose this could wait."

she stood her ground with a simple "no," replicating his low octave but without the distain present in her vocal cords. kid swore he could still sense it.

“alright,” their boss sighed and pulled the door open further to let her in. “grab a seat.”

before entering ishani would promptly glance over at the bloody man leaned into the wall beside her, a look of what he could only describe as sympathy creasing her features. this puzzling gesture urged him now to respond the only way he could — the only way they did — and earned her a comforting smile as she started to head inside. the minuscule flash of her grin appeared on her lips for only a second before she then disappeared from his view, completely failing to close the door behind her.

the monkey man wasted only a moment on internal debate before deciding to inch closer to the doorway and listen in, back pressed flat to the wall and eyes forward while he overheard their conversation. she must've left the door open for a reason, right?

"it's like i've told you before,” tiger spoke in an annoyed grumble “that isn't how business works, and that isn't how this is going to work — if it did work like that i'd be the richest person in the world tomorrow, but unfortunately company comes before personnel."

"all i'm asking is for you to stick to your word. i don't expect any favors. just respect."

"respect?" he asks with an exasperated thinness, a scoff caught in his throat. "respect you?"

ishani, on the other hand, is surprisingly calm despite her previous demeanor. “would you break a promise with someone you respect?” tiger finally scoffs.

“what promise, ishani? i never promise anything to anyone — especially not the ring girl with a fake name who prances around for money.”

kid can almost hear the smirk in her voice. “the ring girl whose made you an extra few thousand rupees every night? s’that the one you’re talking about? — because if so, that’s even more of a reason to keep your word.”

there is a beat before tigers response that left the eavesdropping man outside to ponder his own theories of what he was doing during this time. maybe he was pushing his tongue in his cheek to keep his big mouth from saying something he shouldn’t. maybe he was brushing his hair behind his ears as the thought of a cool and collected response. maybe —

“i don’t give hand-outs, ishani.”

on the contrary to his mulling, her answer was immediate. “that is such bullshit, man! you rig every match! how am i asking too much when you make me to stay late every night just to laugh at some sweaty guys' jokes? not to mention the other things you beg me to do. and yet i never complain and i never whine — which is why i asked you last week for my pay today. i need that money today, tiger.”

kids brows would furrow upon hearing this new information. he knew tiger did things under the table, of course, everyone did! most matches were rigged and he did ask ishani to sit with some overzealous customer just about every night, however her emphasis on other things caught his full attention, the implications nearly baring his teeth.

"i can't give you your pay tonight. best i can do is friday."

"friday?" ishani repeats, her volume raised higher than before "it's tuesday, tiger — how am i going to eat tonight? how will i wash my clothes tomorrow? what am i supposed to do until friday?"

"honestly, i don't know, but i believe you'll figure it out. now, i have somewhere to be, so i will see you tomorrow." tiger's annoyance is now outwardly apparent in his voice.

"that's it? i should just go fuck myself then?"

"if that's what you wish to call it, sure; go fuck yourself — now get out of my office."

from around the corner kid can hear a chair screeching as its legs skid against the ground before landing with a thud. then, ishani's swift but heavy footsteps, her face beet red as she exited the office in the same manner as she had arrived. and before kid even has the chance to do or say anything, tiger is peeking his head out to see who else had been looming around to speak with him.

"you come to make demands, too?"

make demands. he noted tiger's verbiage before shaking his head.

"all right, let's get this over with."

kid would almost hobble out the back door for a cigarette after his match when he’d noticed ishani already two steps ahead, mid-drag as she looked over to see who'd stumbled into her alone time. of course it was the monkey man — who else? she exhaled the smoke before speaking.

"i always feel sorry for kong. looks painful."

her voice seemed so much softer when directed at him, though maybe that was just the foreignness of them actually speaking to one another. kid took a moment to respond while restraining a wince from the shift in weight as he worked down the second step. “don't feel sorry, kong's 'the beast.'" ishani shifted to face him when he arrived at the third.

"is he, though? or is that just how he's made out to be?"

kid would have to pause once more in order to work through what she was saying — what the true meaning was hidden in the ambiguity — and more importantly what he was going to say back. he’d watch her take another drag with her eyes fixed on him, finally making it down to the final step before deciding to mirror her intentional vagueness. “does it matter by this point?”

the warm twinkle in her eyes ran cold upon hearing this response, now more of a troubled glint as she pulled her gaze from his silhouette trudging to lean against the brick. from her peripheral she could see him fishing for something in his pockets and her own free hand would subconsciously slip into hers, the other bringing the menthol back to her lips. “i think so…” she’d trail off, and for a moment, that was that.

and then he was the one to suddenly speak, his tone barely over a whisper after a long exhale of billowing smoke. “can i ask you something?”

“sure.”

“why’d you leave the door open?”

a deceitful smirk graced her lips as she took another drag in what he assumed was an act to postpone her answer. “because.” ishani hummed lowly, “i didn’t want you to think i was soft.”

this took him aback entirely. of all hypotheses he had conjured up over the last two hours to explain her varying demeanor, this was not one of them, didn't even make the list. kid's adams apple bobbed while he swallowed the hesitance in his vocal cords, her gaze returning to his just in time to catch this quirk.

"i don't."

the warmth in her eyes would return again after these words left his mouth, and though she would only smile in that sincere manner she had revealed all those days ago, it felt as though she wanted to say something; the corners of her lips twitching as her eyes flicked between his. how awfully he wished to hear it — her thoughts on his rare transparency — but ishani would remain utterly silent with the grin on her face fighting to show teeth. kid would grow timid quickly under the pressure of her gaze and silence, unintentionally prodding him to abruptly blurt out what he'd been poring over since the moment he'd left tiger's office.

“do you know ‘kings?’ the elite club in uptown mumbai?”

ishani’s brows furrowed as she shook her head. “no, i don’t think so.”

“well…” he took a breath in an attempt to navigate how to go about this, each explanation coming off worse and worse. he looked off to the skyline. “all the wealthy businessmen go there to pay for girls to laugh at their shitty jokes. if anyone could do it..."

there was a beat before her response that left kid out in the cold for the few milliseconds it took her to find what to say, the anxiety in his chest rising until an entirely unfamiliar sound eased his swirling worries, light and harmonious in the night chirping with crickets. he'd glance back over at ishani to find her restraining the giggles emitting from her throat with her pointer on her lips, eyes now looking back up at him as she smiled.

"you trying to pimp me out?"

her apparent delight would grow along with her grin as she watched his face flush with the unsure and somewhat nervous chuckles falling from his split lips. "that is what it sounds like, huh?" he'd look away to ash the dwindling cigarette between his trembling fingers "just wanna help, is all. promise."

ishani turned towards him even more now, inadvertently catching his full and undivided attention, though she simply pressed the butt of her dead cigarette into the brick. "see?" she spoke sweetly — knowingly as she took half a step toward the back door with a vivid twinkle in her eye, "kong's not as bad as people make him out to be."

and with that, she turned, filter in hand as she monitored him all the way to the back door. with her fingertips grazing the rusted handle ishani would offer one last salute towards the monkey man before finally heading back inside, leaving him alone against the brick to ponder their interactions once more. the absence of her response had his suspicion snowballing on how she'd taken the offer and, with another puff of tobacco, kid found himself accepting her subtle rejection.

— so imagine his shock the next day when he'd exited the kings' kitchen for a breath of fresh air only to find ishani doing the same.

"hey," she'd smile, a familiar glow in her gaze on the dumbfounded man "funny seeing you here."

[filmofhybe]

my addictive apple - yang jungwon

synopsis : he’s addicted to you. To your sweet apple scent on your neck. And your sweet addictive red like apple blood. Would you risk ur life and let him bite you..?

pairing : Vampire! bf jungwon x Human! fem oc

genre: vampire au , fluff

warning : biting , begging

word count: 935

He has found a new interest In you. Your sweet, mouth watering apple scent luring around the house. That has a peculiar effect on him - a vampire, go insane for you. As If your delicious red apple colored blood doesn’t make him go dizzy every time. The scent matches with the color of your blood perfectly. And the way it’s could be smelt directly on your neck makes this man go absolutely feral for you.

“Jungwon Are you okay?” You asked concerningly. Jungwon struggles to even keep his posture while you talk to him. He found himself irresistibly drawn to the alluring aroma. He usually talks to you like a normal person except you know your boyfriend is a vampire. He knows how to control himself but sometime he would devour your blood carefully as if your a five course meal because he said your blood is sweeter than a apple.

He started twist and turn while his hands grip onto both pillows beside him. Panting repeatedly as if he just saw something scary appeared in front of him. You want to help him to snap out of this unusual episode, but something is holding you back, preventing you to do so. It feels like jungwon’s soft hands gripping onto you. holding you back.

Sensing his inner struggle. You approached him cautiously. “Jungwon love, please tell me are you okay?” You asked him sweetly before kneeling down in front of him. Your hands trying to reach towards his face but he softly pushes you away.

Jungwon feels his fangs extends, the sweet red apple scent flooded his mind and nose, making it increasingly difficult for him to resist the temptation of your blood.

“y/n,love.. stay away for now..” he said taking deep breaths inbetween. “Why did I do something wrong?” Your statement made him stare directly into your eyes. It was filled with both desire and torment. “Is nothing..is just your sweet scent. It’s intoxicating me love. But I can handle it.” You finally understood why. It was the apple perfume that’s getting him to act this way. You slightly giggled.

“I mean it is really a nice scent isn’t it? If you promise to be careful, I’ll let you drink from me.” You smiled before sitting beside him. Moving your hair towards the right. Exposing your neck. Jungwon eyes widened in surprised at your unexpected proposition. “Are you sure love…?” He asked, astonishment lacing his word.

"Yes," y/n replied with unwavering determination. "I trust you, Jungwon. I know you won't let your instincts overpower your love for me." Jungwon hesitated but with a mix of apprehension and reverence, Jungwon leaned in and delicately brushed his lips against YN's neck, his fangs grazing her skin.y/n winced slightly as he sank his fangs into her flesh, feeling a slight sting and the warmth of her blood coursing through his veins. Her whimper mixed with his own turmoil, a symphony of pain and desire.

But as he drank her blood, Jungwon's instincts slowly subsided, replaced by a sense of deep affection and gratitude. He withdrew his fangs, his eyes glowing with a mixture of hunger and affection. Gently, he held y/n in his arms, his cool touch providing a comforting contrast to her warmth. y/n looks up to her sweet careful and gentle boyfriend. Smiling at him. Eyes full of love.

"Love,” Jungwon whispered, his voice filled with genuine appreciation, "you are incredibly brave. You've shown me a level of understanding and acceptance that I never thought possible. I am so proud to have you by my side." “Is nothing wonnie, as long as I’m with you and I’m willing to do this, that’s all it matters.”

taglist : @surefornext @skepvids @spilled-coffee-cup

taglist application is now opened on my navigation post

a/n: hope you all enjoyed this :)

© filmofhybe on tumblr — do not copy , translate or share.

[tessa-liam]

Marabelle Series

Long Live the King - Chapter 12- 

Choices – The Royal Romance, AU – (cross-over with Rules of Engagement) 

Series Premise – An American teenager from New York City is introduced to the world of a small European country and its society of royalty, nobility, and commoners. How will her life story be transformed? Will this new adventure bring her happiness...or regret? 

Marabelle Series Masterlist

My Complete Masterlist 

Main Pairing – Crown Prince Liam Rys x F!OC Lady Sophia (Sophie) Taylor 

Other Pairings – Maxwell Beaumont x M!OC Daniel (from NYC), Drake Walker x F!OC Melanie Smithson 

Most characters belong to Pixelberry Studios 

Series Rating – M*🔞Warnings: this series will have NSFW material, drinking, crude language & innuendo. 

Not Beta’d - Please excuse all errors. 

Category – Alternate universe/on-going series/angst/fluff/cross-over with Choices Rules of Engagement 

Words: 3480

Long Live the King – Chapter 12 

Chapter Summary – Leo confides his reasons why he has decided to abdicate the throne to Liam, as Madeleine is notified by King Constantine that she is no longer the queen-in-waiting. 

Music Inspiration: I Get to Love You, Ruelle 

A/N1: Bethany Beaumont, Maxwell’s mother, is originally from the U.S. and is Barthelemy Beaumont’s second wife. Annabelle Beaumont (deceased) is Bertrand’s mother. 

A/N2: ‘Social Season’ in this AU series refers to a traditional period in the spring/summer for royalty and members of the court to take part in Balls, dinner parties and charity events. 

A/N3: Thank you to @peonierose for your ask/quote prompt, “He looks at her like he just realized what love is.” 

Monterisso

Inside the dimly lit speakeasy nestled in the small island country of Monterisso, the atmosphere was both vibrant and clandestine. The air was filled with the tang of citrus from freshly squeezed lemons, mingling with the rich aroma of aged wines and the faint scent of tobacco from elegantly smoked cigars. Soft jazz music played in the background, creating a sultry ambiance that enveloped the patrons in an air of secrecy and luxury. 

Amidst the plush velvet couches and ornate decor, Leo sat with his brother in a secluded corner of the speakeasy. The flickering candlelight cast shadows across their faces as Leo took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation ahead. 

Liam was already quite sure and prepared for what his brother was going to announce that evening. In talking with their father shortly after the charity polo match had ended, he learned about his brother’s contemplations and desire to abdicate the throne. The surprise being, for Liam, that his father confessed to him that he was relieved about Leo’s decision. 

"Liam," Leo began slowly, his voice low and filled with gravity. "There's something I need to tell you." He paused, sitting back in his chair as the buxom server deposited a bottle of top shelf scotch complete with Glencairn crystal tumblers on the table in front of them. 

Liam looked up at the woman, and cordially thanked her before returning his attention back to his brother. 

They sat in silence for a moment, each enjoying their scotch. The only sounds were coming from the smooth and mellow tones of a saxophone from across the room. 

Letting out his breath slowly, his eyes were fixed on the flickering candle at the center of the table. 

"I've made a decision," Leo started, his words measured. "I have decided that ... that I am abdicating the throne." He looked warily at Liam, not knowing what his reaction would be. Considering the news will profoundly affect his brother’s future trajectory, it could possibly go sideways. 

Liam looked down, nodding his head. His features reflected a mix of concern and disbelief upon hearing the words coming out of his brother’s mouth, even though his announcement was expected and forewarned by their father. 

 "Abdicate? Leo, why? You've always been committed to your duties as the crown prince." Turning to him, Liam questioned further, in a hushed tone, “why now ... what has changed?” 

Leo leaned in closer, his voice barely above a whisper now, mindful of the ears that may be listening in the secretive ambiance of the speakeasy. "I know it's abrupt, Li, for you. I have been thinking about this for a while now. I cannot ignore my heart any longer. I want a life of my own choosing, not one dictated solely by duty and tradition." 

Liam took a moment to process his brother's words, the weight of the decision settling between them the unspoken truth that both men already knew. "I understand, Leo," he finally responds after a moment, his voice filled with compassion. "Your happiness matters more than anything else to you. I know that you want your freedom.” 

As the jazz music continued to weave its melodies around them, Leo and Liam sat in quiet contemplation, they were united in their bond as brothers, even as their individual paths ahead were destined to diverge into uncharted territory. 

“But Liam.” Leo began, moving in closer and watching his brother’s reaction and facial cues. “I already knew and accepted the fact that you were the one destined to take the crown many years ago. Not me.” 

Liam raised his eyebrows in confusion but remained silent to allow Leo to continue. 

“Remember that time in Athens, Liam? I was 21 and you had just turned legal? I was showing you around town?”  

Liam sighed, chuckling, “Ah, yes ... that was the royal visit when you picked up that woman! Father was so pissed when Bastien found you at that hotel after the diplomatic summit!”   

The broad smile on Leo’s face, with his booming laugh rattled throughout the room. “Yes, yes ... it was quite the eventful trip.” Leo smirked, shaking his head. 

“But seriously, Li, it was on that trip when I realized you would make the better king.” 

“Oh, come on, Leo. You had your doubts, but you were always the natural born leader.” 

“No, Liam. It’s so much more than that. That incident with Bradshaw and Isabella Achillies at the party on the Auvernal yacht. You handled it with such grace and diplomacy.” 

‘...The deck was filled with diplomats mingling and drinking. Leo and Liam each grabbed a glass of ouzo from a passing waiter. When the sun started to set, Leo and Liam rose to leave the yacht to return to the summit being held at an uptown venue. 

“Prince Leo, are you ashamed?” Bradshaw taunted as he also rose, noticing the Rys brothers leaving his yacht. 

Leo stopped and turned around to glare at Bradshaw for that comment. All eyes were now focused on the king’s raised voice. 

“Your schoolboy brother is afraid of being tardy.”  Bradshaw ridiculed.

“Insult my brother again, and you're going over that railing, Bradshaw.” 

“Come on, Leo.” Isabella chided. “Stay and have another drink.”  

“I guess Cordonia is too weak a nation to do as it pleases.” Bradshaw turned, to grandstand in front of everyone on the yacht. "As evidenced by Prince Leo and his tedious little brother.” 

 Leo swiftly stepped up to approach him, as Bradshaw quickly retreated. 

 “You can call me a coward all you want ... but don't you dare” ... Leo seethed and stopped mid-sentence with clenched fists when Liam placed a hand on his shoulder. Knowing that Leo was losing his head and was about to blow up in front of everyone, Liam came forward, as cool headed as ever.  

“King Bradshaw, our kingdom honors and respects its neighbors, even those who do not deserve it.  

Cordonia’s strength is in our integrity.” 

Liam paused and moved forward to stand directly in front of Queen Isabella. 

“To answer the summit's call is not about being or acting like a coward. It is about acting like a king.”  

Bradshaw stayed silent with a reddened face. 

 Isabella was also silent, clearly embarrassed as their guests stopped their conversations to witness the altercation.

“Please enjoy the rest of the party while Cordonia helps to shape international policy.”’ 

...Pausing, Leo threw back his scotch; quickly refilling his tumbler as well as Liam’s...

‘Bradshaw and Isabella's jaws were on the floor. It actually embarrassed them enough that everyone else felt uncomfortable and left, abruptly ending the party.  

As Leo and Liam strolled back to the summit, Leo stopped.  

“Hey, can I just say that it was an impressive move back there. It takes tact and cunning to lie in a bed of snakes and avoid a bite.” 

 Liam responded, “you would have done the same if I hadn't interrupted.”  

“Huh. Yeah. No. No, I wouldn't have, honestly. You made Cordonia look good back there. You were born for this world. Cordonia is lucky to have you.”’ 

“That was the moment when I realized that you were so much more suitable to wear the crown, rather than me. The things that got me excited for those summits was the chance to meet people, to meet new women, outside of Cordonia. For you, it was negotiations, networking and diplomacy.” 

“Ah, that.” Liam shook his head. “It wasn't my finest moment, but I had to step in.” 

“You diffused the situation brilliantly. Liam. Your words about Cordonia's integrity and strength... that is what a true king embodies.” 

“I was just trying to keep the peace and uphold our principles.” 

“You did more than that, Liam. You showed me and everyone else on that yacht what it means to lead with honor and wisdom. It told me that she was in your heart. Cordonia needs someone like you to wear the crown after father.”  

Leo put his hand on Liam's shoulder. “It hit me, at that moment ... that you would make a way better king. Much better than I ever could be. It said that you have faith in this country before anyone or anything else. Liam, you are the king Cordonia needs and deserves.” 

Liam breathed out slowly; a myriad of thoughts swirling in his head. 

Leo refilled their glasses with amber liquid. 

“And I trust you to lead Cordonia into a bright future, Liam.” Leo raised his glass to propose a toast. “And you know what? Cordonia is lucky to have you as its future king.” 

“To Liam Rys. Long live the King.” 

The Beaumont Estate 

Sophie stepped into her bedroom, her mind reeling from the events of the day. The charity polo match had been a success, but the victory was bittersweet. The encounter with Neville had left her feeling shaken, confused and vulnerable.  

As she changed out of her clothes to slip into her pajamas, her thoughts returned to the moment when Neville had pushed her. The look of hatred and disdain on his face was burned into her memory. What had she ever done to deserve his cruel treatment? 

She sank onto the edge of the bed, tears stinging her eyes. Her shoulder was throbbing from the fall and her knee ached from hitting the hard ground. The day had been an emotional roller coaster, and she was mentally and physically exhausted. 

Sophie picked up her phone, hesitating. She knew Liam was busy with his brother, and she did not want to disturb him. But she wanted him; she needed to see him; to feel the warmth of his embrace and to hear his reassuring words. She placed her phone back on her nightstand and laid her head down on the pillow. 

As the night wore on, Sophie found herself drifting in and out of sleep, her thoughts consumed by the day's events. 

Sitting around the firepit on the grounds outside the estate, Maxwell and Daniel shared a bottle of wine, the night sky a blanket of darkness overhead. They laughed and chatted, the warmth of the fire keeping them comfortable in the cool evening air.

"It's nights like this that I love," Daniel said, his eyes shining as he looked up at the stars. 

When Maxwell didn’t respond, Daniel looked over at his partner.

“Maxwell?  Earth to Maxwell... you seem like you are a thousand miles away." 

"Oh, sorry, I'm just a bit tired," Maxwell apologized. 

"Is everything okay? You've seemed distracted tonight?" Daniel asked, a look of concern on his face. 

"Yeah, it's just..." Maxwell trailed off, his expression uncertain. "It's Sophie. She's been through a lot lately, and I'm worried about her." 

"Oh, the polo match?" 

Maxwell went silent as Drake plopped down in a lounger beside them. “Sorry, I’m late.” Drake took a long pull from his bottle of beer. 

“Hey Drake, glad you could make it tonight. But hey, where did Melanie go? I thought she was coming?” 

Drake scoffed, “yeah, she decided to go home.” Maxwell raised an eyebrow. 

“She was in a mood, so I asked her ‘what’s up’, and she tore a strip off me. Drawing another pull, Drake, clearly annoyed with his girlfriend, “I am in no mood for aggro tonight, so I drove her home.” 

"Hey, where's Taylor? I know she is not with Liam tonight." Drake looked around the grounds. 

"She is in her room. She wasn't feeling well, Daniel answered.

"So, Maxwell," Drake looked quizzically at him ... you were telling me that you were worried about Taylor? What's up?" 

Monterisso

“I have met someone." Leo took a moment, the flickering candlelight reflecting in his eyes as he gathered his thoughts. "Katie," he begins, "she's not Madeleine. Meeting her on that cruise was like stumbling upon a new adventure, a chance to explore life beyond the confines of royalty." 

Liam listened intently, a flicker of curiosity dancing in his eyes. "Tell me more about her," he prompted, sensing the significance of this encounter for Leo. 

"She's... different," Leo mused, a soft smile tugged at his lips. "Katie is spirited, full of life and has a thirst for adventure. With her, I feel like I can be myself, and not be the crown prince, burdened by expectations." 

"I realize that you already knew about my decision before tonight," Leo said after a while, breaking the quietude. "I wanted to apologize for not telling you sooner, for not confiding in you." 

Liam shook his head, a reassuring smile on his face. "There's no need to apologize, Leo. I understand why you made this choice, and I support you wholeheartedly." Liam never held back with his opinions for Leo’s betrothed. 

Leo let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, a weight clearly lifted from his shoulders. "Thank you, Li. Your support means everything to me.  

Liam nods, his understanding dawned in his expression. "It sounds like Katie has brought a breath of fresh air into your world." 

"She has," Leo confirmed, gratitude coloring his tone. "Being with her these past three weeks has made me realize that there's more to life than the crown, more to discover beyond the palace walls." 

Liam reached out and placed a reassuring hand on Leo's shoulder. "I'm glad you found this, Leo. Everyone deserves to find their own happiness, even if it means taking a different path that was originally planned for them." 

Leo nodded in agreement, a sense of resolve settling within him. "Thank you, Liam. Your support means everything to me." 

As they sat in the intimate corner of the speakeasy, surrounded by the whispers of jazz and the allure of hidden conversations, Leo and Liam watched as a jazz singer took to the stage and began to sing.  

"You know, Liam," Leo started, his voice carrying a note of contemplation, "with Sophie by your side, you could start thinking about the future. About heirs to the throne and building a family." 

Liam's expression softened at the mention of Sophie, his eyes reflecting a mix of love and longing. "I've thought about it," he admits, his voice filled with quiet determination. "Sophie and I have talked about our dreams, about the possibility of a future together." 

Leo nodded in agreement, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "She would make an incredible queen, Li. Her grace, her kindness, and her love for you are evident to everyone." 

"I agree," Liam responds, a warm smile of affection coloring his features. "And I couldn't imagine a better partner to share the responsibilities of ruling Cordonia and raising our children." 

"You know, Liam," Leo began, his voice carrying a note of contemplation, "with your betrothal to Sophie there would be no need for a social season.” 

Liam was taken aback by the suggestion. "Leo, you sound like father." 

"Well, Father has a point. If you are going to rule, you need to secure the throne for the next generation. The need for a queen is paramount." 

“That was before you abdicated, now, everything has changed. And, well, we are not engaged; not yet." 

"Well, maybe it's time you fixed that,” Leo looked meaningly at Liam. ‘Sophie is a perfect fit for you." 

"I appreciate your support, Leo. But it's not that simple." 

"Why not? From what I can see, you two are clearly in love. She comes from a noble house and has been accepted at court. Father and Regina think very highly of her." 

“Marrying me now comes with a lot of baggage. There's the political side of things, the court politics, and the pressure to produce an heir." 

"But that's all manageable, isn't it? Liam?” 

"Maybe. But Sophie is still new to all of this. I do not want to overwhelm her. We've had a whirlwind romance, and I don't want her to feel rushed or pressured." 

"I understand. But Liam, the longer you wait, the more you risk losing her." 

Liam understood too; all too well. According to Cordonian law at the time of a coronation, he must be betrothed. 

Cordonian Royal Palace

The following day, Madeleine sat in the opulent sitting room of the royal palace. Her fingers nervously traced the intricate patterns of the embroidered cushion beneath her. She had been summoned by King Constantine, and the weight of anticipation hung heavy in the air. 

As the throne room doors opened, King Constantine entered the sitting room, his expression somber yet composed. Beside him Liam also entered, his face a mask of conflicting emotions. 

"Madeleine," King Constantine acknowledged, his voice carrying the weight of the impending revelation. "There's something we need to discuss." 

Madeleine's heart skipped a beat, a sense of foreboding settling over her like a dark cloud. "Of course, Your Majesty," she replied, her voice steady despite the rising unease within her. 

Taking a seat opposite her, King Constantine fixed his gaze on Madeleine. "It concerns Leo," he continued, his tone measured. "He has made a decision regarding the throne." 

The mention of Leo's name caused a flurry of emotions to surge within Madeleine—hope, fear, and uncertainty mingling in her thoughts. "What decision?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. 

Liam stepped forward; his expression filled with empathy. "Leo has chosen to abdicate the throne," he revealed, his expression stoic.

Madeleine's heart seemed to stop as the reality of the words sank in. Abdication meant that her dreams of becoming queen, of standing by Leo's side as his consort, were shattered. 

"I... I do not understand, why," Madeleine stammered, her mind racing to grasp the enormity of the news. "Why would he abdicate? What about our plans?" 

King Constantine sighed, his eyes reflecting a mixture of sympathy and regret. "Leo has found his own path, Madeleine," he explained stoically. "He believes it's time for a new chapter in his life, one that doesn't include the responsibilities of the crown." 

Tears welled up in Madeleine's eyes, her dreams crumbling around her like a fragile illusion. "But... but I thought..." Her voice trailed off, unable to articulate the turmoil raging within her. 

Liam reached out, offering a handkerchief as her tears began.

"I know this is difficult, Madeleine," he said softly. "But Leo's decision is his own, and we must respect it." 

As the reality of Leo's abdication sank in, Madeleine felt a mix of sadness and resignation wash over her. The future she had envisioned, the life she had planned, seemed to slip through her fingers like grains of sand. 

"I understand," Madeleine replied, her voice steadier now, masking the pain that threatened to consume her. "I will accept Leo's decision and wish him well in his new path." 

King Constantine nodded, a sense of finality settling over the conversation. "Thank you, Madeleine. Your grace and understanding in this matter are appreciated." 

As Madeleine composed herself and prepared to leave the sitting room, the sense of loss weighed heavily on her heart. The dream of being queen was no more, replaced by a stark reality she had not expected. 

With a heavy heart, Madeleine left the royal palace, her thoughts and mood now turning into anger. Consumed by thoughts of what could have been and her uncertain future that lay ahead. 

House Beaumont 

In the morning, Sophie woke to a text from Liam. 

'Sorry I missed you last night. I'll be over later today.' 

Sophie's heart pounded, her fingers trembling as she replied, 'I'll be here.' 

It was a simple message, but it spoke volumes. She had missed him, and she couldn't wait for him to return. 

She had never felt this way about anyone before, and it scared her. She knew that being with Liam was worth the risk. thinking to herself that she would do whatever it took to make their relationship work, no matter what obstacles stood in their way. 

Thanks for reading; please let me know if you would like to be added or removed from this series.

📌@bascmve01 @busywoman @kristinamae093 @differenttyphoonwerewolf @kingliam2019 @ao719 @alj4890 @emkay512 @karahalloway @twinkleallnight @malblk21 @tinkie1973 @queenmiarys @txemrn @emersyn-in-cordonia @dutifullynuttywitch @charlotteg234 @lovingchoices14

📌@choicesficwriterscreations

[m00nt34rs]

Winning Her Heart a Theodore Nott x oc

I watched as Theodore sat across from me, his eyes flicking over the paper with a smirk that suggested he was enjoying this far too much. The corners of his mouth curved upwards, and for a moment, he seemed positively thrilled-an emotion I never thought I'd witness from him. His expression was almost infectious, but I quickly squashed any flicker of curiosity. He had despised me for as long as I could remember, so what had suddenly changed his opinion?

My thoughts spiraled as he took a seat next to me, his mere presence igniting a confusing mix of annoyance and curiosity that I couldn't quite shake. The air between us felt charged, as if an unspoken tension had settled into the space surrounding our desks.

"Hi, love," he muttered, his tone casual and teasing, as if he had the right to address me like that.

"That's not my name," I replied sternly, trying to assert myself against the wave of warmth creeping up my neck. "Call me Ivy." I wanted to sound commanding, but my voice faltered slightly under the weight of his gaze, and I cursed myself for it.

"Hm, what's with the attitude, love?" he shot back, that infuriating smirk still plastered on his face. I glared at him, my irritation flaring like a lit match in a dark room.

"Okay, how about Ives?" The suggestion caught me off guard, and my cheeks flushed. It was better than "love," but it felt oddly intimate coming from him. The classroom was stifling, a constant reminder of how uncomfortable this situation was, and I hated how much I wanted to understand him.

As we settled into our seats, the teacher's voice cut through my thoughts. "For the rest of the period, I'd like you to converse with your partner and get to know each other."

Oh great, this is going to be torture. I braced myself for the inevitable awkwardness that would follow.

"I'm Theodore, but my friends call me Theo," he started, leaning back in his chair with an air of nonchalance that suggested he was completely at ease. "I like Quidditch, I don't like chocolate, and I prefer sour sweets. I have no siblings-just me and my dad. I actually care about my grades, and I don't care about stupid blood statuses or which Hogwarts house you're in."

As I scribbled down his words in my notebook, a flicker of optimism began to stir within me. Maybe he wasn't as unbearable as I had thought. This could be an unexpected opportunity to make a new friend. If I gave him a chance, perhaps he wouldn't be as bad as everyone claimed.

"Your turn," he prompted, snapping me back to the present, his expression curious and slightly challenging.

"Oh, um, I'm Ivy, but my friends call me Ives," I stammered, caught off guard by his sudden interest. "I like cheerleading, the color pink, and cats. I absolutely love chocolate. I have a sister-it's just me, my mom, and my sister at home. I'm a Slytherin, but everyone says I belong in Hufflepuff. I don't believe that, though. I like to write, and honestly, I'm not sure how I'm considered 'popular.' I'm a total book nerd, especially when it comes to romance novels."

I noticed him scribbling notes as I spoke, a faint furrow appearing between his brows, as if he were trying to reconcile what I was saying with the version of me he thought he knew.

"Romance is shitty," he declared bluntly, cutting through my thoughts like a knife.

"That's your opinion," I shot back defensively, my irritation flaring again.

"No, it's not. Anyone with over five working brain cells could tell you romance is a total crock of shit. It's an unrealistic fairy tale designed to get people's hopes up. Everyone always leaves or dies in the end. Romance is just...shitty." His stern expression left little room for debate, and I could feel my defenses rising.

"Okay," I muttered, my mind racing with ideas for a future project. This could actually be fun, even if he was insufferable.

"Absolutely fucking not," he said with finality, cutting through my hopeful thoughts.

"Please, Theodore! It'll help you understand me better. Plus, I'll read anything you want me to," I urged, desperate to persuade him, my eyes wide with sincerity.

He scoffed, clearly unconvinced. "Meet me at the library after class, and don't tell a single soul you convinced me of this, or you'll regret it." His tone was serious, but I caught a hint of amusement in his eyes.

As class ended, I practically raced to the library, excitement bubbling inside me, mixing with nerves. I spotted Theo browsing the thriller section, and my heart sank at the thought of what he might choose. With my luck, I'd end up stuck with something by Stephen King or another horror author, and the idea made my stomach churn.

Determined, I made my way to the romance section, scanning the titles for my all-time favorite book. If Theo gave it a chance, he might actually enjoy it. After what felt like an eternity of searching, I finally found it: *Pride and Prejudice*. With a sense of accomplishment swelling within me, I picked it up and made my way over to him, my heart racing with anticipation.

But as I approached, I saw what he had in his hand.

*The Shining*.

You've got to be kidding me.

A grin spread across his face as he handed me the book, his excitement visible. He looked almost joyful, which was a sight I had never associated with him before. "Have fun, Theo," I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes as I passed him my selection.

"Oh, I will, Ives," he replied, a glimmer of mischief sparking in his usually cold, dead gray eyes.

Quickly, I turned away from him, my heart racing as I made my way back to the dormitories. What had I gotten myself into? I couldn't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, this bizarre arrangement would lead to something unexpected. That's just my overactive imagination talking- nothing could happen- nothing would happen, ever. And that was that.

[bibbityboppitybillyharvgrove]

Can’t Help Falling in Love- B.Barnes

Summary: A snowy day in the Barnes Household, Bucky baking with his daughter, his wife and son busy decorating their house for the holiday.

Pairings: Bucky x fem!Reader, Dad!Bucky x OC!Twins Sarah and Stevie

Fic Warnings: Bucky as a girl dad, Bucky is a good husband, use of Y/N, Female Reader

Author’s Note: To those who celebrate, happy Thanksgiving! I suck at ending fics so if there are any suggestions please let me know, they are welcomed. My asks are open so if you have any questions or suggestions please feel free to send them in. 

My full Masterlist

Word Count: 840

Hope you enjoy! :)

not my gif!

A chilly December morning, snow dancing through the sky, the Barnes family was getting their cozy home ready for the upcoming holidays. Bucky was in the kitchen baking with one of the twins, Sarah. His wife was in a cleaning frenzy, cleaning every nook and cranny of the house and the other twin, Stevie, he was helping his mom clean up, manning the vacuum for her. They were hosting Christmas in their new house, they had bought it in November and had just finished making it into a home. They were excited but the two adults stressed out over the fact that they were having people stay over and they still had so much to do.

There were still boxes scattered around that Bucky had moved up to the attic for the time being, their picture frames still needed to be hung on the walls, their Christmas tree still hadn’t gotten put up yet, the bookshelf in the living room had only books on it and none of their family photos or sentimental knick-knacks. That was what Y/N was doing after she had finished cleaning. She enlisted the help of Stevie and the two of them got their sentimental items up in no time. When it came time to hang pictures, however, she knew she needed Bucky’s help for that. 

She was clumsy and was prone to injuring herself doing mundane tasks like putting on clothing. She knew that if she was going to be hanging pictures, she’d hit her hand with the hammer countless times before actually getting the nail in the wall. So, she made her way into the kitchen where Bucky and Sarah were at the counter, backs turned, mixing dough in the stand mixer. The two of them sporting matching braids, Bucky having a single french braid down the middle and Sarah having french braid pigtails. Y/N padded her way behind her husband, her arms snaking around his waist and her forehead resting on the center of his back.

“Hi mama, wanna help us make cookies?” Bucky asked his wife, his hands grabbing hold of her forearms, giving them a gentle squeeze.

“I’ll leave that to the professionals. When you’re all done, can you help me get the pictures up on the wall? I’m clumsy and Stevie can barely lift the hammer,” She replied, planting a kiss on the back of his left shoulder at the end of her sentence.

“I most certainly can help you, but you need to taste test our chocolate chips first. It’s your favorite recipe of mine, made them just for my girls.” Bucky had turned in his wife’s arms, holding a cooled chocolate chip cookie out for her to eat. She took a bite and nearly melted at the taste. Bucky had a way about making cookies, no matter what, they always turned out so flavorful and delicious. Of course she went in for another bite, then another, until the cookie was gone. Bucky let out a chuckle as he wiped the corner of her mouth with his thumbs. “I take that you liked them, see that princess? I told you mommy would love our cookies.”

“Of course I would, two of my favorite people in the whole world made them. Good job, my loves,” She turned to her daughter and started to whisper, “I know you did all of the hard work. They were the best cookies I’ve ever tasted.” She knew Bucky could hear her but she did that intentionally. Sarah’s little face lit up at her mother’s praise, giving her a big hug and a big kiss on the cheek. “I love you, princess. Why don’t you go help your brother get some of the decorations up? Give yourself a break from baking for a little while.”

“I love you too, mommy! I’ll make sure Stevie doesn’t mess up the garland like last year,” Sarah replied before rushing out of the kitchen to her twin. 

Bucky’s hands had now found their way to Y/N’s waist, resting right above her hips. Her arms had found their way around his neck, her hands messing with the end of his braid. He had grabbed her phone and changed the Christmas music that was playing to a playlist that Y/N had made when they first got married. It was a mix of songs that the two of them loved, songs that reminded them of each other, some of them were just some classic love songs. The first song that came on was a cover of an old classic, Can’t Help Falling in Love by Haley Reinhart. 

The two of them swayed gently to the music, getting lost in each other. Bucky had leaned down and connected their lips into a sweet kiss, only to get interrupted seconds later by their children fake vomiting at the sight. All that was heard the rest of the night was the laughter of the two children and their parents, holiday music playing throughout the house and the occasional suggestion from Alpine.

[zmwrites]

OC Kiss Week Day 1: Almost

WIP: Poppet WIP

Pairing: Dutch x Aleksander

CWs: vague mentions of injuries

Words: 835

Notes: Questionably canon, would take place before the story starts

Dutch leaned back on the table, propping herself up on her elbows. Aleksander brought the candle closer to her wound—one of the cultists had managed to slice the side of her abdomen before she’d gutted them. His brows knitted together.

“Don’t make that face. It’s not that deep,” she said.

“Last time you said that, you passed out from blood loss, fell off your horse, and spent the better part of two weeks unconscious fighting off an infection.” The corners of his mouth curved downwards but he didn’t look up from his assessment. “Forgive me for not taking your word on the severity of your injuries anymore.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. It would’ve been futile; he seemed to be studying the basics of healing whenever they were apart, and she was his favourite pincushion to practice on. The why of his new hobby remained a mystery—his parents employed the best healers in the kingdom and he could easily afford to pay whatever a small town healer would charge—but she chalked it up to the eccentricities of the rich and royal.

“Any foreign princesses visiting when you go back?” Dutch asked, looking at the ceiling so he couldn’t see her winces of discomfort as he cleaned the wound. 

“One of Eletha’s cousins is coming to stay for a month,” he replied. Eletha was married to his eldest brother, and had a large family containing many single young women. “I’ve been forbidden from leaving Noxshire while she’s here.”

She almost felt bad for him. With his next-elder brother recently engaged, the family’s attention had turned to finding him a match. “The city or the duchy?”

Aleksander paused, then slowly grinned. “It wasn’t specified.”

“There’s a nest of giant spiders near the duchy’s border that’ve been thinning the herds of local farmers. Far enough from the city to warrant staying overnight. The pay’s shit for the level of danger, but that doesn’t usually deter you.”

“And we’d have to do reconnaissance, talk to the affected farmers. It could be a multi-week project,” he said. He helped her sit up and grabbed a roll of bandages.

She snorted. “Just assuming I’ll go with you?”

“Of course. Keeping me alive and unmarried is in your best interest.” His hands brushed her ribs, burning hot against the cool night air.

Her toes curled in her boots to keep a shiver from running up her spine, and the stutter in her breathing was barely noticeable. The bastard had done that on purpose. “And why’s that?”

“I can’t pay you to go adventuring with me if I’m dead or stuck managing an estate somewhere,” he said. “Besides, I pay much better than any of those merchants you escort through the northern mountains.”

She hummed her agreement, not trusting herself to speak as he tied the bandage over her sternum. His lavender eyes were focused on his task, but his damn fingers kept grazing the skin just below the raised hem of her shirt.

“And I’m much better company.” He raised his gaze and she realized how dangerously close his face was to hers. He stood with his hips slotted between her legs, and his hands dropped to the table on either side of her.

Dutch slowly lowered her shirt. It was her turn to be strong, to keep them from crossing the line they’d carefully drawn between themselves. Their relationship had to remain professional if it was going to work. It didn’t matter how blurry the line got as they travelled together, or how desperately they wanted to cross it after almost dying again; mixing professional and personal in her line of work never ended well.

“Aleksander.” Her voice was soft, gentle in a way she couldn’t afford to be.

He leaned forward and pressed his forehead to hers, their exhales mingling in the limited space between them. She swallowed hard. One hand drifted up to fist the material of his shirt. For a moment—just one moment—she pretended that it was possible. That they could build a life, that they could be happy together, away from the expectations of his bloodline and her stained past.

But they couldn’t. He couldn’t leave his family and she couldn’t pretend she was anything but what she was.

“Aleksander,” she repeated as he cupped her face. “A bandit-turned-sellsword is not the company you should be keeping.”

“Sword-for-hire,” he corrected. “There are semantic differences.”

She exhaled a laugh. “Not enough of a difference to make me someone who belongs in your world.”

“I know. I know. I just—I wish—” His other hand rose to her face so both of his palms cradled her jaw.

“I know.” She rested her hands on his wrists.

He remained still for another five heartbeats before exhaling heavily and shaking his head. He stepped back and busied himself with packing up his medical supplies. “We should leave now if we’re going to make it to Vir Ezzadh before midnight.”

“Yeah,” she agreed half-heartedly, already missing the warmth of his hands.

[littlest-w01f]

Slumber Party

Feyre x Evelyn (my oc, Tamlin's sister) [Feylin ship]

For @feyreweekofficial

Feyre week 2024 Masterlist

Day 7: Free day

Summary: Feyre having a first proper sleepover with Evelyn

Cw: Fluff, slightly sad, Friends yelling at each other about their choices to make bargains

Feyre couldn't believe it, in a year she had settled in the Spring court so easily, she had Evelyn to thank for it, bubbly Evelyn who always made sure to not make her feel excluded. Evelyn and Feyre had formed a sister-like friendship soon after Feyre had arrived to live in spring.

"So, have you ever had a sleepover?" Evelyn had asked her, her eyes wide, popping a berry in her mouth. The two of them were on a picnic, eating different forms of berries.

Feyre looked at her confused, chewing her own fruit, seated in Evelyn's garden, "Well, don't we every night? We live in the same palace..."

"Oh, you did not just say that," Evelyn looked at her almost offended, "No... That's not a sleepover."

She smiled softly, "A sleepover is another step of friendship, we do each other's hair, and nails, we talk about males, we twirl around in pretty dresses or just stay in our nightgowns." Evelyn smiled brighter, "And we also kick the males out and sleep in the same bed." Evelyn turned to face Tamlin and Lucien, who were a little further away from them when she stated it.

"That sounds fun." Feyre smiled back. "And we have snacks...?"

"Of course, we have snacks, Feyre!" Evelyn gasped, playfully enraged they wouldn't be. "A sleepover is nothing without snacks that people can't finish and they have to be packed away."

Feyre looked over her shoulder to Tamlin and Lucien, "Well I could do without those two for a while." Making them send a wave of talking over each other, pissed at the two females making a joke on their behalf.

"You can paint me," Evelyn wiggled her eyebrows, ignoring her brother and their friend.

Feyre and Evelyn were soon alone in the mansion, Evelyn sprawled over a couch with Feyre standing on the opposite ends, with her canvas and paint. Feyre's brows were furrowed in concentration as she moved the brush flawlessly across the canvas.

"So...?" Evelyn had a teasing tone, "How is being a High Fae?"

Feyre smiled, looking up from her work, "I... I can see colours so much clearer, it's amazing."

"We're just better." Evelyn gave a cocky grin, the grin that matched Tamlin's almost identically.

"You are gorgeous," Feyre breathed with a soft blush, if Feyre had thought the Spring Court Fae were pretty before with their masks, Evelyn was painfully gorgeous, especially by human standards. Evelyn was a mix of soft and sharp features, something Feyre felt she could not put on paper. There was something in her emerald eyes that swirled differently than some other Fae she had seen, well, she had also seen only a handful of Fae as close as she had seen her.

"Should've chosen me over Tam, Feyre." Evelyn gave a wink, chuckling slightly. "You're gorgeous too."

Feyre was a lot fuller now, especially after Under the Mountain, she and Tamlin had managed to figure out how to make her feel better and manage being High Fae, she was a lot more powerful, just as much powerful as the heir of High Lords.

It was quite after that, Evelyn posing for Feyre as she painted, a little pain splattering on her hands. Alis had come in, setting their finger foods down on the small dining table in the room, Evelyn had asked Alis to stay with them but she had smiled and said he would be with her nephews, taking them out for dinner in a new place that had been fixed up.

"Could... Could you not include this?" Evelyn whispered, motioning to the black ink band around her ring finger on her left hand, and a tattoo of stars and swirls flowing up.

Feyre smiled a little sadly, looking at the tattoos "What does it signify?" She had never asked, seeing how Evelyn was uncomfortable with it, as Tamlin had told her, telling her it was Evelyn's story to tell. "If you are feeling up to telling me."

"Well, we do have deep conversations during sleepovers," Evelyn smiled softly, "It's a bargain I made with Rhysand." She didn't talk of the band but the rest of the ink. "I... I made it so that Rhysand would look after you... Keep you... Alive."

"What...?" Feyre set down her brush at that, walking to sit next to her, "That's why he was... Did he ever...?"

"No." Evelyn cut in, "No he never actually hurt me, even if we did piss each other off a lot."

"What did you give away?" Feyre asked, her hand holding Evelyn's tattooed one, stroking the swirls.

Evelyn smiled slightly, letting Feyre feel the magic of the bargain, "A week every month, for my entire life. I have to stay with him."

"But it's been months since then." Feyre looked slightly hopeful, "Maybe he forgot."

Evelyn smiled, moving to sit closer to Feyre, "That's just wishful thinking, the Night Court is rather... Firm... about their bargains."

Feyre looked melancholy, "Well, this got upsetting quickly."

"Ok." Evelyn shrugged, a smile forming on her face again, she picked up the pillow she was leaning against and smacked Feyre in the head with it.

Feyre's eyes widened, "Oh no you didn't!" She picked up her own pillow before swinging at her.

"Oh yes I did!" Evelyn dodged her hit. Swinging again as she got up, Feyre followed her, trying to get a hit on each other.

Feyre landed a hit, making Evelyn stumble slightly against the wall, "How could you give yourself up for me!" Feyre held the pillow against Evelyn's neck as if it were a weapon.

"Because it's you!" Evelyn yelled before hitting Feyre across the face with her pillow, "Because you gave yourself up for my brother! For me! For Lucien! For all of my people!"

"Stop yelling!" Feyre yelled back, glaring, holding her pillow like a sword.

"No!" Evelyn glared back but didn't yell anymore. "You were willing to die for my brother, and you did die. Of course I would do anything to protect you. Even if it is making a deal with Death itself."

Feyre paused, "You did it all for me?"

"Of course I did." Evelyn set down the pillow in her hands, "And I would do it again."

Feyre smirked when she put her pillow away, choosing to strike her again hard enough to make feathers fly out of it, "And I would always help our people!"

"Oh, are we screaming again!?" Evelyn glared, throwing the pillows on the couch at her. "You don't get to be the only person who scrifies something for people."

"Well, you're too gorgeous to end up dead over me!" Feyre yelled and Evelyn was surprised at the splash of dark green paint that now covered her face.

"There!" Feyre smiled, rubbing the paint in Evelyn's hair, "Now I can capture you in paint!"

Evelyn squealed as she heard Feyre mumble "Stupid gorgeous Fae" running to the paint table and throwing the bowl of pink paint.

"Shut the fuck up Feyre." Evelyn watched the pink paint run down Feyre's face, "You're gorgeous too!"

The two run in circles, hitting each other with pillows and paints, yelling aggressive compliments at each other. They end up falling on the floor of paint and feathers, giggling. Evelyn uses her magic to clean both of them.

"Is this what a sleepover is like?" Feyre asked, breathless.

Evelyn shook her head, "I don't know, It's my first too. But I liked it."

The two smile, looking at each other and the mess they had made.

"We left you guys alone for 4 hours!"

"GET LOST!"

{General taglist: @nox-ceur @lilah-asteria}

[thekeeperofdreams]

Sweet Tooth, For You

genre; fluff! canon x oc x canon bc im cringe like that

summary; with the appearance of two new survivors, they've received their very first A tier costumes in the newest Christmas essence! many enjoy their new company, however some take time to even look their way. the little baker seems to understand this and plans to win their hearts through their stomachs.

The manor had never smelt so good. The only time it ever was tended to be when a holiday was around, even then, the maids and kitchen helpers never made anything so tasty smelling before. only ever simple things until the day itself.

many of the youngsters flocked to the kitchen, even little robbie had snuck his way into the survivors side; desperate for a nibble of the sweets memory described.

The Baker, Aukai, one of the newest additions to the manor, was the culprit. providing sweet smelling dishes to coax some of the members to approach for conversation, even if it was only to get to the snacks.

still, two of the manor guests she'd been intrigued by simply avoided her, either excusing themselves politely when she had approached or simply scoffing and wandering away, claiming conversation would be useless.

unfortunately, Aukai was incredibly stubborn, practically staring the two down anytime they'd be in the same room together. even the man she had arrived with noticed, awkwardly smiling and sighing at her insistent rambling about becoming the twos "friend".

even when playing the matches, getting used to the bloodshed, or the pain of dying just to wake up again. she's desperate for a semblance of comfort in the people she's played with, hungry for a shred of normalcy in a forever game of pain and suffering.

even now, she stands before the stove, humming a tune whilst mixing a bowl of batter; small drops of blood drying against her face and new outfit.

sure, her bones and mind screamed to go sit and rest, but the ache in her heart was louder. the jingle of the bell settled against her neck bow broke the trance of thought, finally taking note of the mercenary sitting at the table, flipping one of the finished cookies in his hand.

in an attempt to break the silence, she smiles and turns to him with a small limp in her step. "I didn't poison those, if you were wondering. the children are supposed to come and decorate them with the frosting." she hums, eyes shining with joy when he finally tries to eat it.

only, a different scarred hand snatched it from the mercenary, stuffing the whole thing into his mouth. she blinks, stifling a laugh at the fact naib hadn't moved, still sitting in his position, empty hand near his mouth.

"ah,,I have more in the oven? please leave those ones for the children." she says, snickering when both men only huff, settling in chairs; one more pouty then the other at the denial of food.

still, she carries on, pouring the batter into its trays and settling them into the oven, patting sticky fingers against her fluffy petticoat, shifting around towards the large ice box, bending down to pull out a medium sized tray, the treat inside already solidified.

"this is the tailors favorite treat. I'm sure he won't mind if you boys have a bite." she chirps, placing it down on the table with a thin baking sheet to cover it. "I do have to smash it first, please wait a moment."

the sound of a hand slamming pauses her mid spin, slowly turning back to look at the table. both men had their firsts down onto the tray, the snack shattered into many small pieces, the peppermint shredding scattering a bit.

",,that works too I suppose!" quickly, she takes the sheet, watching both grasp pieces and shove them into their mouths.

"did you both come from a match? I don't think I've seen you this hungry" she asks, the prospector eyeing her before responding. "yea. we lost." he huffs, as if the bruises on his face and dirt on his clothes weren't enough of a clue.

naib merely hums, chewing the peppermint bark with intrigue; the taste exploding in his mouth. "it's good."

despite the lack of much conversation, Aukai beams, the bells and ribbons making noise with the movement of her head. "oh, I hope you don't mind, but would you both like to stay a while? I'm sure the young ones would love the extra company."

it goes unsaid that she'd also enjoy said company, though she's sure both can tell with the twitch of her fingers and curious eyes.

unfortunately for them I'd they'd of declined, a small handful of others flooded the room, dressed in tune with the upcoming holiday festivities.

memory, robbie, tracy, and even emma had popped in, clearly eyeing the tiny gingerbread men sitting in a huge pile, frosting of all colors lined in tiny tubes with more hiding in the ice box if need be.

"well, gentlemen?" the Baker smiles, helping the youngest two settle in chairs and grab their desired icing, along with their little cookie of choice.

the room itself seemed to light up, the group of ladies and gent chattering away and decorating, sometimes spilling icing on each other just for a little fun.

norton and naib simply sat by and watched, comfortable with the bouncy atmosphere despite the room itself being old and creepy in nature.

norton finds peace in the sense of not being alone, finding a place to comfortably sit and eat to his hearts content; the world around him alive and joyous.

naib, on the other hand, simply blinks; taking up the offer to scoot closer to the Baker herself. he's slow in grasping a cookie, staring before messily using some of the icing and other tiny candy decorations to make a shitty version of the man in front of him.

slowly, he lifts his head, eyes blank whilst presenting the cookie to the prospector. "look, it's you" and as if to spite him, naib immediately bites off the head of the cookie; one of its chocolate chip eyes falling out of his mouth and onto the table.

the prospector himself hisses, aggressively standing and grabbing a blank cookie of his own, squirting bits of icing onto it before holding it up. "and this is you." he says, immediately snapping the limbs off the cookie and eating them.

boy, what a long day this is going to be.

[waitingonthewind]

Out of all your characters (from games or otherwise), which one do you think is the most like you? In what ways? Was it intentional, or was it an accident you only noticed after the fact?

(Feel free to delete if it feels too personal 🙈)

@undead-potatoes aaaaaa thanks so much for the ask!!! i don't love doing self reflection (i have a hard time in identifying things about myself and often rely on other people to Tell Me Who I Am) but i love talkin about my ocs so this ended up really big

ill pop the majority of this under the cut but here take an unfinished doodle of my first attempt at a fursona in this the year 2023 bc i finally had some insight into What That Might Be for me its a leafy sea dragon bc as a kid i loved dragons and also leafy sea dragons specifically and as an adult i love fish and plants and the colour green ok basics covered here we go

its a really tough one, especially since all my characters have huge parts of me in them (u point to one of my guys and there's a 99% chance they're queer and a 95% chance they're autistic), and the majority of my characters infect me with Their personalities and traits (speech mannerisms especially... i went about 3 years peppering the word gotcha into every other sentence bc of ollwyn. in terms of it being intentional, usually only one or two bits with each character. i try my best to give characters personality traits and interests that differ from my own, or at the very least mix and match bits and pieces.

sometimes i'll try and make characters that are so so different from me but then it backfires because it means that im far more likely to pick up that character's traits (i didn't swear at All in my whole life until i tried making a character outside my comfort zone who Did swear a lot and now fucking look at me). i also don't like doing my Research so going for interests that i don't know a lot about means i don't. know anything about them lmao.

i think it's impossible to have a character that isn't at least Somewhat like you, we draw from our own experiences and ways of seeing the world, after all. i know i put little pieces of myself into every character and it's hard to say if there's any One character that embodies me most.

almost none of my characters really look like me tho

all that being said i've narrowed down my entire list to three of note. all three are dnd or other ttrpg characters bc they're the ones that i find myself having to think most about in terms of how they Think and Feel in any given situation and over time would notice stuff about myself or about them that i didn't realise were related.

i think these days ollwyn wins out personality wise goofy, indignant, lonely, desperate for approval, and loud. they're stubborn and enthusiastic, needs to be centre of attention but doesn't want to take the lead. they don't have many friends but latch onto those they do make. i re-realised my rat dreams because of them. i made em a bard bc i was obsessed with music as an aesthetic.

i made em a half-elf because i didn't wanna be Too out there with character creation (back when i was a terrified lil new rp-er who hadn't touched dnd before and felt i hadn't Earned anything more interesting yet). then magic and stuff happened and they got all the over-the-top design elements i was too nervous to implement initially and even that feels representative of my Own growth in being more Out There with my aesthetics and personality (i.e. completely shutting off my social filter, not toning shit down so much anymore)

oh i know i said none of my characters really look like me but i almost never draw ollwyn with their mouth fully closed and i only realised like years later that it may have been just a mild lil projection of a habit. i got big front teeth and breathing issues and i find it uncomfortable to close my lips Most of the time lmao

my poor unfortunately named aasimar (it was 2018........ i promise...............) takes the cake when it comes to suffering the brunt of my neurodivergence and sensory issues, and represents a significant portion of the judgy parts of myself that i try not to let myself be. strong opinions, blunt, tone issues, big issues with food and touch. comes across as, and often is, very critical. the biggest difference between me and them is that they don't feel bad about those aspects of themself lol

where i spend every moment of my life either desperately concentrating on my wording so as not to come across as rude, or feeling shitty for coming across as blunt/aggressive in tone or phrasing (where 99% of the time i absolutely don't mean it that way im autistic pls im autistic if i wanna be able to get the Right words out the tone doesn't match and vice versa), corona just says what they want or what they think, and if people get offended, that's People's fault for not trying to make more of an effort to understand the way they talk.

sal is my Top Oc Of All Time and as such takes on a lot of random aspects of myself (skin picking, fidgeting, latent anxiety, All of the visual aesthetics i Wish i could pull off, my love of birds, my tendency to Mr Burns Posture my way through life. she's also very very australian), while also inflicting things on me lmao ive learned more about my gender from the years of playing her in her rp campaign than in the rest of my entire life. a lot of her experiences and dynamics with her friends and family reflect a lot of aspects of my own

i only want good things for her and constantly put her through fucking hell

anyway they're all So Much Weirder as people than I can really put on paper and in (relatively) different ways but i just know it all stems from the Who I Am of it all

bonus shout out to beki:

she was my homestuck fankid and first proper oc, which also meant that she was only about two steps away from a self insert. because i made her as a teenager, i feel the distance between us more each year, but im still very fond of her, in the same way i am for my teenage self. i wanna pat her head and tell her she's cool and not annoying and that her friends don't hate her and that things will be okay

i think it says a lot about me that all four of these guys fall somewhere on the aro/ace spectrum (almost in order of least to most aggressively aro/ace. ollwyn's a demiromantic greysexual, corona is demi + grey on both romantic & sexual orientations, sal's pretty much only interested in the One Guy Ever, and beki is sex repulsed, 100% aro/ace) lmao

[onlyswan]

Hey Art, how's you doing? I hope you're doing a little better than before, sending you hugs❤🫂!!

I wanted to write about your latest drabble since a few days but i just couldn't find the time for it, you see I wanted to pin point the lines and paragraphs I loved so i took my time with it, hehe!!

So the entire drabble made me sob like a baby and i felt like both Kook and OC could use a hug,poor babies😭but i especially couldn't stop my tears and had to practically take a moment when I read these two paragraphs, firstly this-

"your weak knees give in to the pull of gravity, heedless of nasty bruises as you cover your mouth to restrain your afflicted sobbing, nails scratching the porcelain as your lone hand insists on holding you up. sometimes love is not a warm comforting embrace. sometimes love is teeth. sometimes love is biting and perversely holding on. were you not worth fighting for? this time around, can he sacrifice something else instead of you? does that make you sound selfish? what if you don’t care that it does? and you wonder if it’s alright for two people to be in a relationship despite having different ideas of what loving means. you wonder if you’ve truly changed his mind."

Like I don't know if I can say enough about how beautifully angsty this was. Like my genuine curiosity is about how do you come up with a line that goes, "SOMETIMES LOVE IS TEETH"?? LIKE? HOW? It's beyond me. Literally. That just made me feel heartbroken without even being in a relationship 😭?? And that's what art is right? Being able to feel emotions the writer wants for you to feel, even though you haven't gone through it, ever. And so i would really like to give you pats on the back, because you nailed it, you do so every time, but this one just would always remain one of those drabbles I'll come back to read again and again even though it'll hurt my heart because I would want to feel these emotions again.Also the OC thinking whether it's a selfish thing to ask for being put first is so relatable? Like, I know that feeling, that feeling of thinking whether I'm being selfish when asking for being chosen over everyone and everything else.

And then secondly this paragraph-

he wants to be inconvenienced by you. he wants to make impulsively confrontational phone calls he will overthink before bed. he wants you to wake him up in the middle of the night clawing for snuggles. he wants you to jump on his back when you’re exhausted of walking. he wants to charm the owner of your favorite restaurant into cooking one more meal before closing because you always ask him to make a quick stop when he visits you. he wants his life to be influenced by yours in every possible way, two different colors mixed in a palette to create a new one that matches the sky.

Just how amazingly parallel these two paragraphs are, I can't even put into words how beautiful they complete each other, and they are just words?? THE POWER. OC's thoughts, overthinking,all just answered in his mind is just so painfully accurate. Like the fact that he just answered all the questions of OC's in his thoughts is just exemplary, exemplary of his love. I think most of the time in life we don't know what the other person is thinking, what are they going through unless we tell them, but even through all that if we are in love we subconsciously just know what the other person wants. And that's exactly what Kook portrayed here, or I shall better say, you did it😭😭 I WANTED TO HUG SOMEONE AND CRY WHEN I READ, "HE WANTS HIS LIFE TO HE INFLUENCED BY YOURS IN EVERY POSSIBLE WAY, TWO DIFFERENT COLORS MIXED IN A PALETTE TO CREATE A NEW ONE THAT MATCHES THE SKY". I'm a fan, Art. Literally. Thank you for writing this<3 and listening to my absolute non sense of a rant.

hello my love sending you hugs right back 🫂🤍 i am definitely feeling better!! how about you?

seeing someone feel strongly about my writing literally makes me the happiest ever are you kidding 🥹🥹🥹 i can listen to you all day !!!!

And that's what art is right? Being able to feel emotions the writer wants for you to feel, even though you haven't gone through it, ever.

oh my god i love you so much 🥲 this means the absolute world to me seriously i can’t say this enough but THANK YOU THANK YOU

when i tell you guys i was genuinely crying too while writing this sceneshdjdhfjg and it still makes me emotional. feeling that low is the absolute worst 😭 so this paragraph also stands out to me in a visceral way </3 thank you for loving it!!! 😭

AND THIS ANALYZATION TOO AHHHSKDJFJKD IT HITS SO HARD i had to read it multiple times bcs… why are you making me cry i lovelovelove your brain and heart for this </3 i’m gonna be here all day if i don’t stop myself from rambling excitedly about this lol but i think i said it with the last line :( they just match and make sense together even though they’re different in many ways 🫂 (you can hug me and cry!!!) thank you so much for reading. i truly appreciate you for making the time to do so and sending me this lovely message. you’re the sweetest :* mwah mwah!

[truglori]

Homebody (Ch.1)

Summary: Amiyah is the younger sister of local drug dealer (Durkio). Shy and reserved she keeps to herself and stays out the way. But lately she began to find interest in his right hand man/ best friend (Erik Stevens). Wanting to get him to notice her she discovers that he already had her wrapped around his finger without even trying! There was only a few problems that kept her away from her fantasies , her brother that controlled almost every single breath she took and would kill anyone who looked at her that way and lastly Eriks girlfriend, Alexis , who they called the queen of the hood according to her lavish lifestyle as well as being with the next newest top boy in the making. While Alexis was his girl to the streets all Amiyah wanted to do was be his Homebody...

Durkio Faceclaim

Alexis Faceclaim

Amiyah Faceclaim

Pairing: Erik Stevens x Thick Black OC

Warning: language

Kicking off the covers from her legs for the fifth time that night Amiyah flipped over on the left side of the bed relieving herself from pressure that she felt on her right shoulder.

Picking up her phone she saw the time of 12:46 am. It wasn’t the discomfort she felt in her sleep or the extremely warm temperature of her room that woke her up. It was the blaring from her Durkio’s speaker that was gifted to him from himself as an early birthday present. She was cool with it the first couple of times, seeing as she used it as well to play music whenever she wanted to clean her room but this was starting to become annoying.

In the next five hours she had to be up early to open the clothing store she worked at. Durkio likes his music to be played loudly but for some reason tonight it was blasting.

Getting out of bed and slipping on her black UGG Tasman slippers Amiyah went to open the door and was met with the aroma of weed.

“Damn I guess the music isn’t the only thing that’s loud.” She tiredly giggled at her own humor.

Took Her to the O by King Von was the choice of song that woke her from her beauty rest. Shaking her head as she folded her arms she walked down the hall of their shared three bedroom apartment to see the dimmed living room foggy.

Swatting away the smoke she walked closer to the couch preparing to get onto her brother.

“Yo Durk, you know I have to get up for work in a few hours. Can you turn the speakers down or off please?”

Amiyah coughed through almost every word. She didn’t smoke so whenever she inhaled the air would hit her baby lungs causing her to react.

The music level turned down. Finally what seemed like forever the smoke was clearing the living room so she could see the face of her brother...or who she thought was her brother. It was Erik.

Leaning forward he put out his blunt on the ashtray, then he dusted off any remains of falling ashes from his dark grey Nike sweatsuit he rested his elbows on his knees.

Looking up at her with hooded eyes he licked his lips and the famous “sober up wipe” to the face followed after.

“Damn that’s my bad Miyah. I was in here just letting my phone play. I woke you up?” He asked with a small smile.

“Yeah a lil bit but it’s okay.” She spoke in a soft voice that was different compared to the tone she poke in before she found out it wasn’t her brother but her brother’s best friend and also..her crush.

Awkwardly standing there with her arms going back into their folding position making herself feel secured once she cover her tummy she decided to walk to the black leather recliner on the left side of him sitting down. She found herself being really close to him unlike any other times. Inhaling the air she could smell his cologne mix with the weed.

“Um, where’s Durkio?”

“He went out to the car to grab something real quick. He’ll be back.”

Erik got up putting everything that was laid out on the coffee table up. From the bags of weed by the pound to three glock 17s that was sprawled out everywhere. He knew this wasn’t new to her or anything but he wanted to be respectful to his partna’s lil sister. Even though he was the only child he knew that if he did had a baby sister he would want his boys to show the same respect.

Amiyah watched his every move. From the way he gave his sweats a tug around the inner thigh area giving him some room to breathe down there to then observing him pulling up the sweats before he sat down.

There she was doing it again, acting like a little stalker over this man. But she couldn’t help it. She found herself crushing on the best friend of her brother really hard. She was introduced to Erik at the age of seventeen. Just getting out of high school while her brother was already making a name for himself in the streets at twenty-three.

Durkio was coming up from being know for having the best exotics in the hood, some untouchable shit. He started to get more exposure and also more enemies. So along came his homeboy Erik, standing 6’3 and about 225 lbs solid. By the age of twenty-one he was already known to be a problem. Hot headed and a crazy mouth to match but also in a strange way quiet. It was like he knew when to turn it off and on. She notice that whenever she was around the duo he would be barely audible and sometimes completely quiet when she would walk into a room. Taking only glances at her and continued to keep it pushing.

Maybe that’s what she liked about him. Not only did they share the same characteristics when it came to not saying a lot while around others but he also didn’t try to put up a front in front of Durkio. His other homeboys did too much by just talking excessively to her about nothing while trying not to say the wrong thing too her to stay on the good side of her brother.

Amiyah wasn’t the only one doing some studying. Erik didn’t take his eyes off of her from the moment she stepped into the living room. He watched the twenty-one year old face turn from hard to soft as soon as she seen it was him in the place of where her brother usually sits.

Even through his hooded eyes he caught her covering her stomach and setting herself up in a defensive position, something he notice she always did when he was around. To Erik it seemed as if she was doing it because she wasn’t comfortable around him so he stopped his eyes from wandering over her body and other times not acknowledging her other than a head nod.

He already knew how his mans Durkio felt about his little sister. He was going to kill whoever did her wrong, let alone even looked at her like they had a problem. In Eriks eyes Amiyah was considered hood royalty. It wasn’t all talk either. A few months ago there was a young recruit that tried to get Amiyah’s number, who clearly wasn’t interested turned him down in the most modest way. Youngin tried to show out in front of his friends and slipped up and called her a fat bitch.

Once word got to Durkio he had the whole hood searching for the kid and when he found him, not only did he have the dude friends jump him my nigga literally fed him a bag of dog shit and made him eat it. Swallowing every drop.

“Yeah nigga you like to talk shit so you gon eat this muthafucka! You lucky I don’t get one of ya own mans to pop yo ass folk!”

Erik shook his head inwardly laughing about how the whole situation unfolded in front of him. Durkio was one crazy ass nigga! That’s why they was best friends though. Their personalities just matched.

Even though Erik to himself wasn’t official in the game a lot of people seem to think so. But that wasn’t the case, to him he felt he was just heavily associated with the ones surrounding it. Guess you can say his name got caught in the wrong mouth and they titled him without knowing the facts. He didn’t care though, he figured people was going to think what they wanted about him anyways so why try so hard to prove them wrong.

“Erik.” Amiyah looked over to seem him leaning back into the couch with his hands in his hoodie pocket. He was smiling to himself about something. She wondered what.

“Wassup.” He answered nonchalantly giving her his undivided attention

“Do you know how long he’s been gone?”

“Oh I’m not sure, I think five minutes or so. You want me to leave or something?” Erik asked on edge ruffling up his dreads a bit not wanting her to feel guarded in her own home.

Truth was Amiyah didn’t care so much about her brother’s whereabouts. She wanted to use these few minutes alone with him to feed her fantasies. Imagining just them two in his home not worrying about Durk busting in on them.

“No of course not. You’re good. I-I was just being nosy.” She tried her best laughing the nerves away while mentally face palming herself for stuttering.

Erik smirk. He could see the quiver in her bottom lip when she spoke. She was trying to hide it but it wasn’t working.

“Nah I feel you. You work tomorrow?” Deciding to spark up some conversation to help her relax with him.

“Yeah I open the store. So I have to be out of here by six in the morning.” Pushing her back against the recliner lifting one leg under the other she made herself cozy.

“Bella Ella Boutique right.”

Her eyes flickering at the fact he knew where she worked.

‘So he must pay attention to me.’

Is what she thought. If it wasn’t for her golden brown skin complexion she would be sure that Erik would know that she is blushing.

Along with a head nod she gave a small smile answering quietly. “Yeah that’s right.” She shifted her eyes not wanting to keep to much eye contact.

“You like working there? How long has it been by the way?” Resting his elbows on his knees once again, facing her, he gave her all his attention.

Placing her hands between her thick thighs to help calm her nerves she put her eye back on him.

“It’s okay...it’s just I wish they would hurry up and hire some new people already. Like I’ve been working so many hours and-“

She stopped mid sentence once she heard him chuckle.

Lightly giggling herself she shook her head. “What’s so funny?”

“You.” Erik swiping his bottom lip with his tongue before giving her a small smile.

This was the most he heard her talk this much in a while. Usually she would only say hi and bye and then every now and then ask about her brother but tonight she was keeping conversation like they were friends.

“Why am I funny? What I say?” Curious to know the reason.

“It’s nothing bad mama I just never heard you talk this much before. You be acting mad quiet around me.” Leaning back putting one arm at the top of the couch and resting the other on top of his crotch area.

Amiyah took in his form.

Did he just call me mama?

She couldn’t help catching his nickname.

Hit Different by Sza started playing softly in the background.

“Okay but you can talk to me too. I’m not the only one with a voice Erik.”

“You right and I’m a change that for you. When I come around I’ll start addressing you more. Is that good?” Staring into her soft brown eyes searching for an answer.

Playfully rolling her eyes trying her best to subdue her smile.

“Whatever-“

The front door open revealing her brother. Holding a bag of Burger King eating some fries.

“Aye my bad nigga I had to get sumn to smack on- Miyah fuck is you doing outta bed?” Durkio stop rummaging through the food once he saw her.

Erik scooting down further away from her towards the middle of the couch not trying to give his crazy ass any ideas.

“Uh Durk last time I checked I’m grown.”

He looked at her like she had four eyes.

“Girl you better quit acting like I ain’t raise damn near by myself. You bet get yo ass back in that bed fo’ yo ass miss work then you gon want me to pay you for the hours you miss.” He sat the bag of food down next to the ashtray that held about four roach blunts.

“Nigga she only out here cause I was blasting the music. I woke her up.” Erik winking at her defending her.

Her thighs clenched up at the small action.

I know he did not just make me wet by winking at me?

Of course this was only due to her inexperience. She never got pass kissing a guy and even that she felt needed some work.

Knocking her out of her thoughts her loud brother spoke again.

“Erik I don’t need you sticking up or lying for her and nigga where the fuck my weed at?”

He got up checking the cabinets pulling out a half ounce before looking back to see that his baby sister in the same spot.

“Miyah why you still here?” He asked breaking up the bud.

To people on the outside it may seem like Durkio was a mean brother but he really didn’t mean her any harm. That was just always how he was. He had a rough demeanor, so when he spoke it could come off offensive if you didn’t know him but both Amiyah and Erik knew that was just his mannerism. But all in all he loves his baby sister.

She smacked her lips. “I can’t hang out with y’all?”

“No. Hell is wrong with ‘dis girl?” He asked his friend chuckling.

Erik silently laughing at the bickering siblings. He unwrapped the whopper that he got from the bag before taking a bite while closing his eyes and savoring the grilled burger. Fast food always hit different when he was high.

Shaking her head she decided against arguing back and forth with her brother. She had to get up in a few anyways so it was time for her to head back to bed.

“Whatever I’m going back to bed. Night. Night Erik.” Getting up from the couch making her way out the living room area she turned to look at the duo one last time.

She caught Erik looking her up and down before giving her a head nod acknowledging her and mouthing a good night.

Disappearing in the hall and back into the room she sat on her bed replaying the conversation over and over which brought back the memory of his scent. Somehow she could still smell him as if he was right in front of her.

Smiling to herself she got up checking the time on her Apple Watch on her nightstand that read 1:34 am.

She had a few hours to get some sleep. Taking a last glance at herself in the mirror she realized she still had on her light blue silk bonnet the whole time in front of Erik.

Nooo.

Laughing at the embarrassing thought she shrugged it off before sleep took over her body again.

___________________________________________________

Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven Part Twelve Part Thirteen

Hey guys this is my first story on here. Haven’t wrote in a while and so I just wanted to try it out again just to see if I still have it in me lol. I have a few ideas for this story but I’m not sure...anyways let me know what you guys think. Constructive criticism is allowed here.

P.s If I tagged you I probably read your work or I just want to see if you would be interested in this story. If you don’t like it I can take you off so sorry if you might not be interested.

Please excuse any mistakes if there are any. Thanks!!

@supersizemeplz @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @hearteyes-for-killmonger @artisticestheticreads @uzumaki-rebellion @blowmymbackout @chaneajoyyy @thehomierobbstark @thiccdaddy-mbaku @curls-and-crosses @madamslayyy @goddessofthundathighs @eriksjournal @erikslulbaby @wakandamama @wawakanda-btch @wakandas-vibranium @wakandaforeverwrites @ghostfacekill-monger @killmonger-dolan @killmongerkink

[sp00kworm]

Who needs lights?

Pairing: Durzub (Goth Male Orc) x Gender Neutral Reader

Warning: Suggestive Themes

This wonderful piece is based off a very lovely OC by @of-devils-and-drawings. Durzub belongs to her and I adored him too much not to make this for him. I’m a sucker for anything scary and/or orc.... and/or metal....and/or goth. 

---

You’d always found a little bit of comfort being in the alternative scene, even when others stared and watched in the street as you went past, going about your business, bundled in black layers or flares and platforms. It was something unique and different and it was very much a part of your life. The bars were always better places too. You laughed at the bar at your friend as the bar tender tied his platinum, lilac streaked hair back and started to mix the cocktail for the jug. It was easier to order in large pitchers and watch the band playing from the platform the bar was on. You watched the alcohol mix as the Fae grinned at you, revealing incredibly dangerous, sharp teeth and placed two straws into the jug before sliding it closer to the two of you.

You paid for it before laughing and turning a straw to the Faun, “To our health! Well, and my new job!” You cheered.

“Oh, for sure, finally you’re not broke and can pay for drinks!” She jeered as she pursed her lips and leaned down to take a few long sips, “Jesus Christ, Flix!” She coughed, “You trying to get us drunk and make us easy, or something?”

Flix rolled his eyes as he flipped a cocktail shaker over and caught it, “You wish Pip. You two haven’t ever been my type.” He snorted as his lilac, gossamer wings fluttered behind his back in irritation. He laid his burning black eyes on a group in the corner, “Though, I like the look of those troublemakers.” A claw raised to point at the group of Orcs who were gathered in the corner.

 Pip’s brown ears flicked before her hooves clicked against the black floor, the sparkly tiles reflecting the strobes from the stage. She grinned and flicked at the ring in her nose, her shaggy black hair flopping back over her dark eyes, “Oh,” She purred, “I didn’t know you were into the rowdy muscle-head sort.”

Flix flipped the cocktail again before giving her the middle finger and moving to serve the cocktail to a woman who had just come out of the crowd watching the band.

“Who are they?” You asked after taking a long drink of the cocktail, “I haven’t seen them here before?” You looked over at the group again before realising how perfectly they fit in here in the bar. All were dressed in a variety of fashion, from heavy leather, to chains, to netting. Others donned fancier items with flowing sleeves and long, tailored skirts and trousers. The majority were green in skin tone, but you looked at a few lighter coloured, grey toned orcs with interest as they were from the mountainous regions of the old country.

Pip clicked her tongue, “Muscle heads and trouble, the lot of them.” She took another few drinks before hopping back onto her bar stool and adjusting her net top over her ripped shirt. Around her waist was a thick leather belt, the studs dripping with thin metal chains that hung around her furry hips, “They come to shows like this and usually start fights.” She commented off-handedly.

 With a frown, you looked from her, to the group again, “They just seem to be drinking and watching?” You commented.

Pip snorted a short bleat again, “Yeah, wait until this gig really kicks off, then you’ll see what I mean. Last time I was here with them one of them decided it would be a great idea to upturn tables, and by that, I mean, upturn my drinks over my new dress.” She hissed venomously, “They’re assholes, the lot of them.”

“They don’t look like it…” You uttered as one of the Orcs stood from the group and dragged his friend up with him to get drinks. The rest of them hollered their orders before some of the group split off to join the crowd watching the band.

“Oh great. Here they come!” Pip cheered before moving two seats down and dragging you along with her.

“Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Pip.” Flix commented with a hiss and flutter of his wings, “They’re all lookers, I don’t see why you can’t look past that.” He shrugged his shoulders before smiling at the two male orcs at the bar, “What can I do for you two handsome fellas?” His eyelashes fluttered like butterfly wings at them and you snickered at the scent of lilac flowers that drifted from him like a thick perfume.

 “Come on, Flix. Lay off it for one night will ya!” One of the orcs laughed before he elbowed his friend, “This guy’s new here. Don’t go scaring him off already. You lot need our custom.” The orc leaned back and scrubbed at his mohawk, adjusting his heavy cargo trousers. Fabric belts hung between the legs and down them and he wore a heavy half tartan kilt over the top. His face was littered with piercings and you could see why he looked like the sort to be causing problems.

“You know I love you all equally, Xurek.” Flix laughed, “But I was more excited for your lady friend over there. She’s new too huh?”

“Jesus, you never give up! Anyway,” Xurek took the other orc around the neck, “This is Durzub. He’s new in town. Just moved in from out from the sticks. He might look like a foul piece of work, but you’ve met Rakuh, so he’s not as scary.” Xurek laughed before he let the darker skinned orc go. The other male reached up to brush his black hair from his eyes. Most of his long black hair was braided in tight long threads, the braids sequenced with small beads along them with the rest straight and hanging over his shoulder beneath the wide brim of a black hat, emblazoned with a silver trim around the base. He turned, dressed in a black long shirt and coat, the end trailing behind him as he ducked out of Xurek’s grasp, brown eyes angry.

 Durzub snorted and tossed his head, the braids sliding back out of his way over his shoulder before he reached up to move his tangled chains from the ends of his hair, the necklaces hanging with silver teeth, “Will you stop dragging me around like a child, Xurek!” He snorted as he dragged his arm out of Xurek’s grasp and adjusted his hat again before sighing and taking it off, “Any way I could get you to store this behind the bar for me? Its new and these lot have a habit of throwing beer the later it gets.”

Flix fluttered his eyelashes again, “Sure thing, sweetheart.” He took the hat and turned around to hang it near the aprons, “Just grab me before closing and I’ll get it you.”

“Thank you.” Durzub rumbled before pulling his hair back again, tucking the straight length on his left side behind his ear, revealing rings of silver and studs of obsidian, which matched the rings, linked by a chain, on each of his short tusks.

“Don’t be nice to him, Durzub, he’ll eat you alive given the opportunity.” Xurek snickered behind his hand as he flapped his band shirt, trying to cool himself down, “His family ate children back in the day.”

“That was five hundred years ago!” Flix scoffed as he slammed two, pint glasses down on the bar, “So, was it two ales or two lagers?”

“We were thinking mead actually.” Xurek stuck his pierced tongue out before he played with the bar, “And not that piss water Weldrick buys for the goblins!” Flix ignored him and turned for the taps down the other end of the bar.

 Pip scoffed at the exchange, but you found your mouth opening at the sight of the long-haired orc and his scowl. He watched Flix’s wings before he turned away from Xurek’s chattering and pushed his hand over his mouth. You watched the exchange as Xurek stuck his tongue between the other’s fingers and couldn’t help but laugh loudly as Durzub cringed and recoiled.

“You’re fuckin’ disgusting.” Durzub rolled his eye and took a napkin from the holder to wipe the spit from his fingers and the skull rings which sat above his knuckles.

“Mmm, you taste like fresh meat.” Xurek hissed like a comically bad vampire, and you laughed again, but this time louder. It was loud enough that the two orcs looked down the bar to where you and Pip were sat with your cocktail jug.

“Well done! Now we have their attention.” Pip hissed in your ear before she kicked at your chair with one shoed hoof, clanking the metal with a vicious bang.

Xurek’s smile made you regret everything, as you watched his gaze shift from your face to the larger orc stood next to him, “Looks like we have an audience, Durzub.”

 The other male turned slightly on one heel, looking at you both with a raised eyebrow, looking over the two of you perched at the end of the bar, “Don’t mind this freak. He’s got a way of making everyone hate him.”

“Oh, that’s fuckin’ cold!” Xurek hissed at him, “After I introduce you to those bands too!”

Durzub rolled his eyes again as Xurek slinked around him to laze across the bar on one arm, his head propped up on his fist, “Bands which have given me nothing but persistent headaches.”

“Headaches but three magazine features!” Xurek wound his middle finger up before he smiled at the two of you again, “Ignore him. He was castrated at birth.” The statement earned him another gruff noise from Durzub.

“We don’t want your attention, Xurek.” Pip gave him a sardonic smirk, “Not unless you’re replacing those drinks from last time.” She leaned on her own open palm and bared her teeth at him, her hoof clicking against the bar stool.

“You’re a cold bitch, Pip. You know that was an accident.” Xurek whined, “Highlander honour.” He crossed his heart, “Anyway, why don’t I introduce you to my new friend here?” He wrapped his arm around Durzub, making the other spill mead down his fingers as he dragged him over to the two of you, “This is Durzub. He’s a music producer, and part time good looker.”

 “You’re a music producer?” You asked in awe before you turned and looked at the stage, “Are you here for these guys?” You pointed at the industrial band on stage as the lights went low and they started the intro for their next song. At the back here it wasn’t as loud, and you could readily hear the two orcs.

“Yeah. They’re a new signing.” Durzub rolled his shoulders in a shrug, “I never really sign their sort, but it seems like they have a decent following.”

“Come on, mate, we’re here to chill out, not to talk work.” Xurek groaned and laid against the sticky bar top before recoiling in disgust.

“I know, you great oaf.” Durzub placed Xurek’s drink next to him, “Are you both here to see the show?” He asked, his voice slipping from ‘totally pissed off’ into something that was ‘gruff but polite’. Either way, his soft country accent made you smile before you took a few mouthfuls of cocktail for courage.

Pip answered before you could swallow, “We come on a Friday to wind down. The gigs are always just a bonus.”

 She shot a look at you with her dark, goat eyes, warning you from speaking as she steered the conversation, “What about you guys? You here to bother people on their nights off?”

“Well, we know where we ain’t wanted.” Xurek shrugged his shoulders at Pip’s rudeness, “Sorry to harass you, but you don’t have to be a salty asshole about spilt drinks, you know.” He watched Pip’s temper flare and you ducked back as she slammed her hand against the bar top.

“You listen here you little asshole!”

“Little?” Xurek scoffed, “I tower over you, babe.”

Pip gave a bleat of anger before she swept her leg around you and cracked Xurek in the shin, “It was my new dress you ass for brains!” She hissed at him before she stood up to walk around you and face the orc head on.

“What do you want me to say, huh?!” Xurek goaded, “Oh I’m so sorry that my accident ruined something I couldn’t stop. Get over yourself thinking I did it on purpose!” He fumed with anger.

You leaned back before hopping out of your chair, taking the jug of cocktail in one hand and a tall glass in the other before you turned to Durzub, “Hey come on. They’re going to be screeching for a while. Want to go and sit on the balcony and watch?”

 Durzub seemed a little taken back by the offer, “Oh, sure.” He uttered as he pulled Xurek’s drink away from him and then took his own in hand and following you towards the stairs, leading to the viewing area above the pit. You found two stools and a table and happily placed your drinks on it before leaning on the railing to look down at the band as they headbanged together on stage.

Durzub sat awkwardly for a moment before he coughed behind his head, “So, what is it that you do?” He asked as he leaned over the table, eyeing the mixture of liquor and fruit juice in your jug.

You turned from the show and smiled, “Oh nothing as interesting as music production. I just got hired at a new modelling agency.”

“Do you model then?” He asked with wide eyes, “Because you’re certainly…”

“Oh, God no. Nothing like that. I work with brands and secure deals and shoots. I work with Skull Crusher and Tombstone mostly.” You smiled and sipped cocktail through your straw.

Durzub tucked his hair back again with a sweep of his hand, “That explains the look then.” He smiled softly, “Do you get some sweet discounts?” He asked.

“Like you wouldn’t believe. It’s never been cheaper to be a goth!” You cheered as you looked down at the rowdy beginnings of a mosh pit, then back to the bar.

 You gave a great laugh, “Well, looks like their argument is sorted.” You pointed at Xurek with his bruised cheek. He slammed back his drink before storming away into the pit, rushing through a mosh pit before his eyes caught sight of a human among the others. You grinned at his expression. Dumb struck.

“Jesus. I hope they’re ready to be pestered.” Durzub chugged a few mouthfuls of mead before he scoffed, “Whenever he gets that look, he ends up heartbroken a week later.”

“Well, it might be different this time, you know?” You smiled back at Durzub, “Maybe this is the one!” You cooed.

“You’ve got fairy tales in your head and cotton candy to go with it. He’s going to have a one-night stand then not shut up about her for the next three weeks.” Durzub held up three fingers as he drank some more, “Or he’ll relay every little detail to us on our next outing. He has zero filter.”  

“I can tell that much.” You laughed as you shuffled back in your seat, “What about you then, have you met your one?”

“My one?” Durzub scoffed, “Hardly. How old do you think I am?” He leaned on his fist and pointed back at himself, giving you a curious look.

 You felt like this was a trap, “Are you doing this so you can get mad when I guess wrong?” You asked as you pushed the ice around in the glass.

“Hardly. I’m not sensitive.” He grumbled as his painted fingers tapped against the side of the pint glass.

“Hmm, if you say so.” You leaned over the table to squint at his face. You’d worked with a few orcs before, but most were young models, sharp featured and tall, broad in the shoulders. Durzub was the same, though his face had wrinkles in places which would suggest he was far over twenty years old, “Thirty-six.” You decided with a smile.

Durzub let out a low laugh, “Not far off actually. I’m thirty-eight.” He pointed to the stage, “And I used to do that. Played in a band until about five years ago. Started as a producer then. Never looked back.”

“Oh wow. Who did you used to play with?” You asked in awe.

“A gothic rock sort of deal.” He replied before he looked into your pleading eyes, and relented, “Zi Gijak.”

“No way.” You rushed to stand from your seat as you recognised the Orcish name, “Black Blood!?”

 Durzub ducked his head, reaching for where his hat had sat before he realised, he wasn’t wearing it, “Keep your voice down, please.” He begged quietly, “I don’t need people in this place to recognise me.”

“How could they recognise you now? You look nothing like you did back in the day.” You stated before realising what you said sounded rude, “Not that you look bad now it’s just…”

He laughed at your awkwardness, “I know. I ditched the netting and bones a while ago.”

“You didn’t look half bad in it though, even five years ago.” You winked at him with a sudden rush of confidence, “Though I think this outfit suits you just as much.”

Suddenly, it was as though the intimidating exterior melted, and you watched Durzub’s face go flushed with embarrassment, “Thanks. It has been a change.”

Without making him any more embarrassed you changed the subject a little, “So what bands do you produce for now?” You asked.

“Quite a few. I used to work with SIREN before they got huge, but that sort of metal was never something I could do rather well, I thought.” He shrugged, “They’re with a more focused label now.”

“No way…This keeps getting better and better!” You uttered again.

 “Better and better for you. They were a headache and a half for me!” Durzub chuntered into his drink before he swallowed the last bits of it, “I’m glad they’ve moved up. They were good for business.” He smirked over the edge of the pint glass.

“Only thinking of the money.” You tutted playfully, “That’s no way to treat your bands.” You joked.

“Oh no, but that makes me feel better knowing my weekly migraines are worth the agony.” Durzub chuckled as he watched the band on stage, “These guys ain’t half bad for a show though. I think I picked the best from the bucket.”

“They have an interesting ensemble.” You smirked at the leather clad demoness as she slinked along the stage before she growled from her stomach, a crop landing against the hand of a handsy looking fan in the front.

“Interesting but it’s the sort of thing that gets you recognised.” Durzub noted as he watched, “This place is a refuge for all kinds of people. I’m glad Cal has got this place running with Weldrick.”

 “Who’s Cal? I’ve met Weldrick. Giant bright white minotaur, right? Build like a brick shit house with all the piercings?” You recalled.

Durzub nodded, “That’s him. He’s about eight foot tall too. Scariest mother fucker I ever did meet.” He shifted in his seat, “Cal is the co-owner, but he’s not around that often. He’s a vampire, but he’s not people fond.” The orc shrugged before offering you half a smile, “We all used to work together, believe it or not.”

“Wait…” Your mouth dropped open, “I’m actually stupid.”

“Cal was the singer of Black Blood. Weldrick ran our security back in the day.” He laughed at your open mouth before he leaned over to close your mouth with two large fingers. He brushed his fingers over your chin before leaning back and pointing to your drink, “Do you want anything else?”

“I’m okay thanks. I’ll keep your seat warm.” You joked as he stood up with a nod and grumbled about having something better than ‘shitty mead’.

 “I’ve never seen Durzub ever sit and talk with someone in a bar.” A deep, gravelly voice rang out from behind you. You turned around in your chair to see a tall, human looking male watching you, his sunglasses perched on the end of his nose as he regarded you with a mild amount of curiosity from over the lenses. He reached out a hand awkwardly, “Cal.”

“As in…” You took his hand, and flinched at the stone coldness of his grip, “Co-owner of the bar, Cal?”

“The very same.” He shook your hand lightly before his hand disappeared quickly back into his pocket, “I just came to say hello. I was curious. He hates attention in these kinds of places…”

“Just like you then, apparently.” You observed as you turned on your seat to face him. He was a giant man, but stony cold, and overly pale, looking almost grey around his reflective, steel-coloured eyes. They shone red as he turned, the bouncing curls of black hair spilling over his shoulders before he reached for a cigarette packet and cursed, seeing it was empty with only his lighter inside.

 “Cal?” Durzub returned with a large looking ale in his hand, “Weird time to show yourself. Unless you were planning to steal this one for a snack, hmm? As usual.” He scoffed.

“You know I’ve been off the blood for years…” Cal whispered as he rummaged in his other back pocket, before finding a small, slim packet of chewing gum, “I don’t…”

“Yeah. Save it. That’s what you said last time, Clarence.” Durzub huffed into his drink.

Cal’s back went ridged before he stooped over and unfolded the wrapper of his gum, “You don’t get to call me that.” He whispered again, his gravelly tone rumbling in the back of his throat before he slunk away, back into the shadows, and disappeared in a shadowy wave of his black hair.

“Sorry you had to see that.” Durzub rumbled from across the table, “Its…complicated.”

You span back around and smiled, “Don’t worry about it. I think Pip had more of a fight with Xurek.” You snickered as you turned to spy her sat at the bar, batting her eyelashes at Flix as he served, “Though I think she’s okay now. She’s turned her eyes on a certain someone.”

Durzub looked down at the bar and laughed as well, “Well I guess you know her type now.” He joked as he sipped at his ale.

“Yep. Scary pretty boys, who aren’t part of your friends.” You snickered as you sipped at the last of your cocktail and refreshed the glass.

 The band on the stage purred their final song as you took another drink, and you looked at your phone with wide eyes at the time.

“I have to get up tomorrow for errands.” You lamented, looking at the clock. It was almost midnight, and you knew Pip would be here for hours if you left her to her own devices.

“So, this is where the night ends.” Durzub laughed before he finished the last of his own drink, “Here.” He tugged out his phone, “Let me give you my number?”

You nodded and took your phone out to exchange numbers before checking it was working and showing him the message came through okay.

“Thank you for tonight.” You smiled at him, “We should do this again.” You leaned over and carefully placed a kiss on his flushed cheek, “For an grumpy music producer, you’re funny to be around.” You took your bag and looked at Xurek, who was busy pressing a human against the far wall, “And look after Xurek, huh? Looks like he might just get himself into trouble again.” You descended the stairs just as the orcs started cheering for the male and shook your head.

 After speaking to Pip, and confirming she had a taxi to get home, you exited the bar and shivered in the cold, before you felt a warm presence behind you, and a hand catch your own.

“Hey!” Durzub grunted as he caught your hand, “Let me walk you home?” He asked, “No way in hell I’m staying to watch those lot gawk at Xurek strip a human down.” He sneered. His sneer softened as you interlinked your fingers together and squeezed his hand before looping an arm through his own, leaning into his body heat.

“Sure. You can walk me home.” You leaned into his arm again and smiled, “I live three blocks away, so it’s a bit of a short walk.”

“Better to spend time with you.” Durzub whispered before he looked at the night sky, “I’m still sorry about what happened with Cal…”

“Honestly, it never happened, okay?” You patted the orc’s large arm, “We all have our differences and reasons.”

“Still. I was rude.” He huffed before he reached for his hat and tugged at the brim, “I’m glad I got to meet you at least tonight.” You tried to ignore the way he tugged at his bottom lip before he adjusted the decorative chain over his lip and smiled, still a little awkward.

“Me too.” You purred back at him.

 The messages started off polite between the two of you, but it was quickly a regular thing for you both to message back within a minute or two depending on if Durzub was working in the studio or you were in meetings. You were both enamoured. It didn’t take long for you both to meet again, eating together in a restaurant which was a little bit too expensive for you. It was high end, and suited Durzub as he sat there eating, looking intimidating as he ate couscous and chopped vegetables before smiling and blushing with embarrassment as you complimented him and his outfit. For such a giant orc, with a bigger scowl, he was softened whenever you said something nice. Several nights together on dates lead to this one, finally going to his studio to see what he did, and to listen to something he had been working on. Excitement churned in your gut as you looked at the choker around your neck and touched the spikes around its surface before flicking the dog tag and grinning at yourself before you rushed for the door to meet Durzub.

 “Hey!” You shouted at the orc. He was stood out on the pavement, dressed in an old print of a Black Blood shirt with a screaming orc and vampire on the front, blood dripping from both of their mouths. He was dressed in dark jeans, littered with pocket chains and a heavy leather duster to combat the cool breeze. He looked up from beneath his broad rim hat. Instantly, Durzub’s perpetual scowl turned into a small smile, and you took hold of his hand before leaning up to kiss his cheek before placing a soft kiss against his bottom lip. He was always a little slow to catch up, but he returned the kiss with a gentle rub of his tusks to your chin.

“Hey stranger.” He rumbled before he gestured to the building, “My studio is on the sixth floor.”

“This doesn’t look much like a record label building to me.” You hummed as Durzub led you into the reception. A naga waved him on up with you, looking back at her work with a hiss and a grumpy frown.

“Not yet it doesn’t. Wait until we get into the actual building. This is just the polite front for greeting people.” The elevator dinged as he pressed the button and the two of you climbed inside. He pushed the button for the sixth floor and you jittered with anxiety as it moved upwards slowly.

“I’m excited and nervous.” You whispered as the doors opened on floor two and let some more people in.

“Don’t be, baby. You’ll be fine.” Durzub soothed as you continued up.

 The sixth floor was littered with records on the walls, gold, red, black and mixed dyes. You looked along the walls before Durzub tugged you down the carpeted hall. You followed a step or so behind, trying to read the framed records as you toddled behind him, little out of your depth. Durzub’s coat trailed behind him and you moved to not step on it as he stopped at his door. He unlocked it with a click of an electronic card and you watched the black door swing open to reveal the sound room.

“Wow.” You stepped inside in front of him and looked at the expensive sound equipment, keeping your hands to yourself to avoid being told off or ruining anything, “This is some expensive gear.” You grinned at him, “And pretty.” You peered past the soundproof glass to see the guitars and drum kit in the recording box and smiled at the pointed-v design one, knowing it was from when he played with Black Blood.

“I knew you’d spot that one.” Durzub said mildly before he threw his coat over a speaker and collapsed into his large office chair, the leather making him shiver with the cold against his arms, “This is where I spend most of my life, making kids realise that riffs are stupid in the wrong places.” He scoffed before tugging you a chair from the other soundboard and patting it, “Come sit. I have some things to show you.”

 Carefully, you placed your coat on top of Durzub’s before joining him by the large computers, eyeing the two screens as he logged in, squinting at the screen.

“Fuck. Glasses.” He reached into his desk drawer and pulled free a set of circle frame glasses, putting them on before cringing and looking back at you, “Not as young as I used to be…”

“You look cute in them.” You gushed as you scooted the roller chair forwards and made sure to sit as close to him as possible, “Being able to see is important, even if you don’t look as scary with glasses on.” You teased.

“Yeah…” He let the words drop off as he found what he was looking for and pulled free two sets of expensive headphones. Durzub leaned over and gently tucked them over your ears, holding them and holding up an ‘okay’ sign before he donned his own and pressed play. He leaned back in his chair and you sat impatiently before the noise of a gentle synth graced your ears, opening with a gentle melody before a guitar followed the same rhythm before chugging to life with slow riffs. It was gentle somehow still as the guitar started on a slowly moving rhythm along into the beginnings of a verse, sung by a vocalist you recognised as Durzub. The lyrics lilted about roses on a hill, growing in a graveyard around a forgotten tombstone before you grinned at the references to old vampire movies that the two of you enjoyed. The chorus was met with a litany of soft guitar and synth before a drum solo full of soft cymbal carried on. It was something made for the two of you, and you wondered just how long Durzub had spent making this song. Looking at the poorly hidden bags under his eyes, you figured it had been most nights after work.

 In the closing synth of the son, you laid your head against Durzub’s arm, against the tattoo of the roses around the gravestone. You pressed your lips to his skin gently before smiling and tugging the headphones down to around your neck, smiling up at the orc. Durzub copied the motion with another small smile, reaching to stroke at the top of your head

“That was beautiful. It’s hard to believe you made that just for me.” You whispered against his warm skin as the orc flushed with embarrassment, “Did you mean the part about making love on graves?” You teased gently before you slipped from your own chair, and into his lap, your fingers sliding up over the tattoos on his arms, tracing the thorns of the roses down before you traced the edge of the stem curling over his collar bone.

“Maybe not. Stone gives you a bad back.” He rumbled as his pupils went wide, watching your fingers as they slipped under the collar of his t-shirt, “But I would worship you just the same.” His hands moved from the computer to your hips, his fingers pressing into the meat of your backside before he leaned forwards to kiss you. You gladly accepted the advance, kissing the orc back, your tongue licking at his lips before you traced the rings around his tusks and wrapped your arms tighter around his neck.

 A soft moan escaped Durzub’s mouth as you pulled away. His lips were puffy and you leaned forwards to bite his lip, enjoying the second croak that escaped him as you leaned back on his thighs.

“What about this desk?” You asked under your breath.

Durzub grumbled, “There’s a lot of…” Your hand meeting his crotch shorted his brain for a moment, “I can make room.” He grumbled before he pushed the keyboard and monitor aside, leaving the desk free for you both. You laid back over the wood and grinned as you tugged on one of his tusks, forcing his face down so you could lay another kiss on his lips. Durzub moaned again as you reached up into his dark hair, tugging the braids at his scalp.

“Maybe you should make good on your song lyrics.” You purred as you kissed his cheeks and then bit at his neck before sucking a mark under his ear.

“Fuck.” Durzub hissed before he leaned over you, his fingers tugging at your clothes before he admired the collar around your neck and gave it a tug, “I hope you didn’t have any other plans.”

 Neither of you saw the audio recording button flashing red.

 ‘Everything was recorded. I’m keeping it. See you at the bar. x’

[mysoftboybensolo]

The Alienist and the Soprano

Chapter 12: The Courtship

A/N: This was inspired by Laszlo’s love of opera and my thought on what if he fell for an opera singer. Multi chapter. Canon divergence, there is no Mary Palmer here (I loved Mary and Laszlo, so I don’t feel like I could have her here and have him be with another woman). A mix of show and book canons. No Y/N, OC named Evelina Lind.

A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32029150

Pairing: Laszlo Kreizler x Fem OC!

Summary: The last thing Laszlo Kreizler ever expected while investigating the death of children was to fall in love, and with an opera singer no less!

Warnings: Age gap, questioning of a relationship, but it gets resolved, hints of John x Sara (more of them will come in later chapters).

Laszlo didn’t quite know what to do when it came to courting. He himself had been so inexperienced in love and more so with social interactions that he feared that he’ll make one wrong move and ruin everything. It was one of those moments where he had to admit he knew nothing about the subject and must turn to someone who did.

John would never have thought in a million years that Laszlo would ever some to him for advice, and certainly not of the romantic kind. To see Laszlo looking rather on edge and uncertain gave John a small feeling of enjoyment as the roles have now been reversed, but he did not keep his friend suffering for long and entered the den.

“Thank you for meeting with me,” Laszlo spoke, “Especially on short notice.”

“That is probably the first time you had ever said that to me in all the years we’ve known each other. You must need my help badly.”

“I fear that I do. I-I have asked Evelina if I may officially court her.”

John’s eyes brightened with joy. “Laszlo, that is wonderful! She is indeed a remarkable woman.”

Laszlo smiled and nodded in agreement. “I have never felt this way about anyone, and I am afraid. I am afraid that I shall say or do something wrong and after everything that had happened in the previous days, the last thing I would want to do is cause any further scandal.”

John chuckled and teased, “If you want her to be scandal free, then she picked the wrong man.” John quickly realized what a mistake his choice of words was as he saw the visible hurt in his friend’s eyes. “I am sorry, I was only joking. It is amusing to see you like this though, because last I recall you had some choice words about love. Dull, no more than a mystery than cholera.”

He watched as Laszlo’s mood lightened as he recalled back on his own words and shook his head. “And I did believe them. Or at least, I wanted to believe them. She changed my mind. John,” he asked in a somber tone, “Do you think I am wrong to do this?”

John stared at him perplexed. “What do you mean?”

“It’s just, I am forty and she is just shy of her twenty-fifth birthday, a whole life ahead of her full of possibilities, and I feel like I am taking something away from her, especially with…” He doesn’t say the words, but his habitual gesture of left hand gripping the right wrist finished the sentence.

“Laszlo,” John sighed, “You two are not the first couple to have a difference in age, and many more have had even larger gaps then you do. And I resent the idea of you being too old, because it means I am as well, and I should like to think I am not too old for love!”

Laszlo offered a small smile, but a part of him knew that his relationship did mirror a bit with John’s feelings towards Sara, even though John was with Violet. That was something that Laszlo felt grateful in, not to be a situation where he is tied to one but loves another.

“And by now, she knows about your arm,” John continued, “I am sure that if she had thought less of you because of it, she would have left. Let us be honest, if she hadn’t left after her first meeting of you, then I am certain she is never going to leave. And I shall now share with you a lesson that I had learned a rather difficult way; never tell a woman what to feel, even if you do think she ought to feel differently.” John reached over and placed a friendly hand on Laszlo’s shoulder and grinned. “No one deserves to be happier than you, after everything that has happened, you deserve it. Take it, my friend, and enjoy it.”

Laszlo was touched by these words and knew John meant it. “Thank you. It means a lot to me that you’d say that.”

“My god, Laszlo,” John chuckled, “If being in love placates you, then you must do it more often.”

“I intend to. But what do I do? I mean, what is it that people do when they court?”

John explained the socially proper rules of courting, such as never be alone with her without someone being there, places where they be together, gifts you can and cannot give, etc. Many of these rules made Laszlo roll his eyes, for they were built on patriarchal beliefs that did more harm than good, but overall, when he left John’s place, he felt comfortable to move forward in the relationship.

Evelina had felt herself on cloud nine, for it felt that everything was falling into place at last. The feeling of his kiss still lingered on her lips and it was like a drug that had prolonged effects, for even the stares and whispers that people made when she passed them hadn’t even bothered her. The party at the Roosevelt’s tonight should be able to help with that, especially with Edith Roosevelt in your corner, who had happily accepted Evelina into the party as soon as she saw her.

“Oh, my dear, you are just the loveliest creature ever, love suits you very well.”

Evelina blushed and asked, “Is it obvious?”

“Beautifully so. He’s over by the fireplace, his usual spot in events such as this,” Edith said, giving her a coy smile, knowing she’d want to go to him.

Because of how late the rehearsals went, Evelina had told Laszlo to go on ahead and she’ll meet him there, so this was the first they would see each other after the kiss, and they came together sweetly and shyly. “Good evening, Laszlo, did you sleep well?”

“Quite well, I had the most pleasant dream,” he softly spoke, looking down at her with such a tender love that he could see reflected in her eyes.

“A result from a rather wonderful moment from the previous night?” she asked, knowing full well that was the reason why, she just wanted to hear him say it.

“There can be no other reason.”

The party went extremely well, and Evelina had to say that Laszlo was a good sport, she knew how uncomfortable he can get at social events, which was partially the reason why he stuck close to Evelina. The other reason was because he just adored her so. It was quite apparent to everyone in the room by the end of the night, and many thought it a good match; economically, she will be married to a man who is one of the wealthiest people in New York, socially, he is less irritable when around her. Personally, they loved each other so much.

Laszlo was indeed right, people would move on from one scandal to another, as a week later it was revealed that a prominent society lady was having an affair with her stable hand, and everyone went mad over it. People still looked down at her for her profession, but she brought up a good point during one of their meetings, of how despite people looking down at the profession, they still come to her to hear the music they love.

“It comes from a need to control and a deeper level of jealously,” Laszlo said, “If they see someone that they can put down, then they will as it will make themselves feel important. But they also know that they need that person to provide a need they cannot get themselves, which can cause a sense of jealously and hostility and make them react in such a way. They try to convince themselves that the ones lesser than them need the higher class to survive, but the truth is, the society needs the workers more than the workers need them.” Laszlo opened his mouth to continue, but he noticed how Evelina looked at him and wondered if he spoke too much. “I’m sorry. I tend to go on rambling about such things.”

“Don’t apologize, it was fascinating. I like hearing you speak about such things; it only teaches me something new, but to see you go on about something that you enjoy, it makes me happy.”

Often people have told Laszlo that they didn’t care about his work, that his ramblings about facts, big or small, were not so interesting, and to hear that she not only enjoys it, but likes how it makes him happy, well, that made him even happier.

What made their courtship so different from everyone else’s was how open they were with one another. Laszlo certainly made it no secret that he did not approve of the standard norms of society, which is why he did things so differently, and while to some it would be an improper error, Evelina felt that they should not have to hide how they felt. Most unions were made for the sole purpose of advancement in society, but this one was an affair of the heart. But despite how they felt about these rules, they also knew that there were some rules that could not be breeched. Laszlo visited her when he knew Sara was home to “keep watch” over the pair, which meant she’d be in the next room typing away at her machine while Laszlo and Evelina had the freedom of being alone.

Mrs. Vidal had also played chaperone at the opera, watching with a careful but affectionate eye as Laszlo visited after the show. The first time he came by was after the premiere of Roméo and Juliette, having watched her fall in love, despair and die, all so tragically and beautifully. He looked down at her from his box with incredible pride and adoration, and what he couldn’t believe was that at the end of the show, when she was giving her final curtain call, she looked up at him and gave a small but noticeable gesture of blowing a kiss to him. No one else caught it, between the gesture being subtle and they so enraptured, but Laszlo noticed, and it warmed his heart.

He went down to her dressing room after the show, pushing through the usual crowd of admirers and was allowed the privilege of a private audience with the prima donna.

“Laszlo!” she happily exclaimed, rushing to wrap her arms around him, which caused him to gasp but chuckle as he returned the hug. “Did you like the show?” she asked with her face pressed against his chest.

“Oh, meine liebe, you were perfection itself.”

She pulled back enough to look up at him, with a look of pleasant surprise. “Laszlo, do you realize that you just called me by a term of endearment?”

He thought back and then apologized. “Oh, I hadn’t realized. I am sorry if you don’t like it.”

“Oh no!” she disagreed cheerfully, “I love it. I like to be called your love. But what shall I call you?”

Laszlo chuckled at her sweetness, “Whatever you like, I suppose.”

“It’ll come to me. Such a thing must come naturally, as it did with you. The company is having a party, Delmonico’s, your favorite. Please be my escort?”

He kissed her hand and declared it to be a pleasure and left her to get ready as he waited in the hall. Evelina watched as Laszlo pushed through the crowd and couldn’t help but to laugh at the thought of him getting lost in the crowd.

Maria, still in her nurse costume, was pushing through the crowd of men when she bumped into Dr. Kreizler was confused as to why he was down here. Managing to get through, she entered the room and quickly went to Evelina who was laying on the couch with her eyes closed. “Evelina, are you alright?”

Evelina opened her eyes and sat up with a smile. “Yes, shouldn’t I be?”

“Well, no, of course not, but I saw the doctor leave and I was worried.”

Evelina got up and went to her vanity with a smile. “No, I am perfectly well. Better than well, actually.”

“Good. Listen, I was thinking of us entering Delmonico’s in style. Be fashionably late and-”

Evelina gently interrupted and said, “I am sorry, Maria. But I am going with someone else.”

Maria was at first disappointed, then she perked up when a thought came to her. “Is it the same man of whom you have feelings for?”

Evelina began to wipe the stage makeup off as she nodded. “Yes. We managed to finally express our feelings for each other and he’ll be taking me tonight.”

“Well, don’t leave me in suspense, who is it?”

She opened her mouth to answer, but then closed it. “No, you’ll laugh.”

“Laugh, why would I laugh? Evie,” Maria placed both hands on her friend’s shoulders, making her look at her, “I promise, if I laugh, I’ll lend you my ruby and pearl earrings for the evening. Now, please, tell me?”

Evelina sighed, then said, “It’s Dr. Kreizler.”

Maria paused for a moment, her hands slipped from Evelina’s shoulders and a quizzical look came over her features. “Dr. Kreizler. The alienist?” Maria watched as Evelina nodded. “Huh.”

“Oh, stop it, I know you want to laugh,” Evelina muttered, standing as she tossed her towel on the vanity.

“No, not at all. I am perplexed, to say the least. He is indeed quite good looking and is more well off than Mr. Moore could ever hope to be, and he is older, but so is Moore. It’s just, well, Dr. Kreizler always just seems so…distant and harsh, and you two seem so different from one another. What on earth do you see in the man?”

Evelina’s face softened and an almost dreamy haze overcame her. “Oh, if you only knew. He puts on the air of being steely strong and mean, yet, if you could see him with the children, he’s remarkable, tender, loving. He suffered but only wants to help others avoid what he went through. He’s witty, humorous, brave. And his thinking is so modern, so unlike most men I have known. He believes in women having just as much rights as men, including holding their own jobs and casting votes. He’s wonderful.”

Maria whistled. “Well, in that case, I may just fall in love with him myself.”

“Hands off, I saw him first,” Evelina teased, smiling back at Maria.

“Oh, all right. I suppose I’ll have to settle for Ramon, the tenor,” Maria teased back. Then her smiled turned tender and asked, “But, you are happy with him? Truly?”

Evelina nodded. “Yes, incredibly so. We may not be so similar, but we are similar in where is counts.”

“And that is all that matters,” chimed in Mrs. Vidal. “It’s rather best you do not end up with someone who is completely like you, otherwise, neither of you will push the other to do better, and on the bad days, you’ll hate the flaws of yourself that you see reflected in the other. Dr. Kreizler is a fine man and any man who would risk his life the way he did for you, that is a man worth keeping.” Giving her a kiss on the cheek, Mrs. Vidal said, “You are very lucky, some of us never find the right one, enjoy him while you can.”

Maria smiled, seeing her friend looking so happy was wonderful, especially after the horror she had to endure, and if it was a man like Kreizler, who not only came to her aid but also made Evelina smile, then it was worth it. “Hear, hear! And speaking of, I should leave you to get dressed, can’t keep him waiting.” Maria stood and bopped the end of Evelina’s nose. “I am very happy for you. I’ll, see you at the party,” she called out from over her shoulder.

As Evelina got ready, all she could think of was how lucky she was that not only did she find a good man to love, but that the dearest people in her life liked him too. She almost wept to think that her parents could not be alive to have met him, but she knew that they would have liked him and would have wanted her to be happy. And she knew that she’ll never stop having her heart skip a beat, for when she stepped out after changing and saw him standing there, waiting for her, it was like falling in love all over again.

If people had not known that Laszlo and Evelina were a couple, then tonight had put everything to rest. People stared amazed at the sight of Laszlo walking Evelina into Delmonico’s, especially the opera company, who never saw this coming. It was of course not an unusual practice of a singer taking on the patronage of a wealthy person, but they of all the months that they had spent working alongside Evelina, she never seemed to be the kind to do this sort of thing. The highbrows of society had simply nodded their heads and declared that they had fully expected this of her.

But what changed it from being simply seen as an arrangement to an honest to goodness courtship was seeing that the pair had matched in their flowers; in his lapel, was a lovely boutonniere of violets which matched the same corsage she wore pinned to the front of her dress. It was a spur of the moment decision, as they had passed a flower seller on their way and picked matching flowers that had a very strong and important meaning “faithfulness”.

At this point, they both decided that society could look at them with judgmental glares and harsh whispers all they want, but nothing was going to stop this miraculous feeling of being in love. And if anyone did, Sara would happily get into a fisticuff with the person, as she strongly vowed to the pair. As much as she was very happy to see them together, it did make her feel a little left out, and her gaze fell to John, with a sense of longing that she never could allow herself to admit. It was hard not to see herself reflected in Evelina and her relationship with Laszlo, after all, it was what Sara had imagined being with John might be like.

But it was too late.

Tagging: @monsieurbruhl​, @cazzyimagines​ @scuttle-buttle​ @violetmuses​ @flutterskies​ @sokoviandelights​ @rumblelibrary​ @fictionlandslanddreams​ @somethingthatsaysbubbles​ @alindeluce​ and  @barnesxnobles