#soap wants to hold hands and go on park dates

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 10: Treat Me Gently

Summary: You and Price take your relationship to the next level. It might be the best decision you've ever made.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, p in v sex, fingering, oral, first time sex, unprotected(ish) sex, reader has an implant, creampie, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, language, the author is a bit rusty writing smut.

A/N: It's finally here. It's finally arrived, the moment we've all been waiting for! Uh, yeah, it's mostly badly written smut with just a little plot thrown in there. So...I hope you enjoy!

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Your attention is pulled from your book as the couch sinks on either side of you, two bodies joining you. You glance up from your book as an arm drapes itself across the back of the couch behind you. Your eyes flicker between Gaz and Johnny, mischievous grins on their faces. 

“We heard you have a date this weekend.” Gaz says, leaning in closer. 

Your face warms at his words. “Well, I don’t know if I’d call it a date...” 

“What are you wearing?” Gaz asks. 

“Do ye have anythin’ to wear?” Johnny asks. 

Their questions give you pause. The most formal thing you have are jeans and, though you doubt Price would care if you showed up in sweatpants, you would like to have something nice to wear. 

“Come on.” Gaz says, slapping your thigh before standing. “We’re going shopping.” 

“What?” You glance between him and Johnny as they stand over you. 

“Already got permission from Price.” Johnny says. “So come on.” He grabs your hands, lifting you to your feet easily. “Let’s get goin’, kitten.” 

Your cheeks warm at the pet name, Johnny’s hand settling on your lower back to steer you from the rec room. You don’t have much of a choice but to follow, grabbing a couple things from your room before you leave the barracks with them to a car parked outside. It’s different from the car you and Price had taken to town last weekend. Of course, they probably all have their own vehicles, or at least a few at their disposal. 

“I’m driving.” Gaz says, plucking the keys from Johnny’s hand. 

“Aww, ye never let me drive!” Johnny pouts. 

“Yeah, because with our luck you’ll traumatize her so badly, she’ll never want to leave again.” Gaz says, opening the driver’s side door. 

You can’t help but giggle at the dejected look on Johnny’s face as you get into the back, Johnny muttering the entire way to the passenger side. 

“I’m no’ that bad of a driver.” Johnny says, buckling his seatbelt. 

“Yeah, but both you and Simon seem to be in agreement that the speed limit is a suggestion, not a law.” Gaz says as he turns on the car. “I’d like to make it there and back in one piece, thank you. Besides, Price would have both our heads if anything happened to our girl on our watch.”

Your cheeks warm as you meet Gaz's gaze through the rear view mirror. Your heart flutters at the look in his eyes, the dedication and protectiveness shining in them. 

“I wouldnae let anything happen to ye.” Johnny says, reaching back to squeeze your knee for a moment. 

You stare out the window of the car as Gaz drives towards town, half listening to the conversation in the front seat. You're beginning to recognize landmarks, buildings, areas between the base and town despite it only being your second trip. They'd be proud of you, you think. At least if something happened, you'd be able to give a landmark. 

The farmlands fade into the city and soon Gaz is parking on the street in front of a shop. You take Gaz's hand as he helps you out of the car, lacing your fingers together. Soap holds the door to the shop open, letting you and Gaz walk through first. 

It's a nice boutique filled with all sorts of formal wear. You wonder how they even knew about this place, or if they had done some research beforehand. Both make you feel honored that they would even go to those lengths just for you. 

They are going to be your pack soon. 

Packs do this sort of thing for each other. They take care of each other, spoil each other, make each other happy. It’s hard to be a good pack if one member is unhappy. 

“Good afternoon.” One of the workers approaches you. “My name is Emily. Is there something I can help you find today?” 

“Our omega has a date with our alpha this weekend.” Gaz says, smiling down at you. “She needs something to wear.” 

The worker, Emily, smiles at you. “How exciting! Did you have anything in mind? Style, color, anything like that?”

“Probably nothing too fancy,” You say, eyeing the racks. “And, probably a dress.”

“Alright, we've got lots of options for that. Let's take a look and you can try some on.” Emily says. 

Gaz keeps hold of your hand as you follow Emily through the racks, looking at some of the options. Johnny goes off on his own, perusing the racks himself. 

“Is there a certain color you have in mind?” Emily asks you.

You hum in contemplation, looking at the many racks. You're not sure what color Price would like, or if he even has a favorite. 

“His favorite color is blue, like a dark navy blue.” Johnny answers for you. “Though, I think he'd like you in any color.” 

You can't help the way your cheeks warm a bit at Johnny's words. You realize you don't even know their favorite colors. There's still so much about them that's a mystery to you. 

“What's your favorite color?” You ask, looking up at Gaz. 

“I don't think I have just one.” He says, running his hand over a sequin covered dress on the rack in front of you “I like warm colors. Reds, oranges, purples.”

“Like a sunset.” You say, looking at a tag on one of the dresses, nearly choking at the price. 

Gaz gently removes the tag from your hand, giving you a look as you meet his gaze. “Don't even worry about it, love.” He says quietly, leaning down to kiss your cheek. 

“My favorite color is green.” Johnny says, appearing next to you suddenly. 

“Let me guess, Ghost’s is black.” You say. 

Johnny's mouth twitches. “Now how'd you come to guess that?” 

You shrug, unable to hide your grin. “Call it intuition.” 

Emily takes you to the changing rooms, the boys taking seats outside to wait for you to try on the dresses you've chosen so far. You pick a sleeveless, blue, knee-length dress first with a ruched skirt. You already don't like it, but you know the guys will want to see it regardless. 

You feel nervous, strangely exposed as you step out of the dressing room and make your way to where the guys are sitting. They both straighten up as you approach, Johnny’s eyes immediately on your legs. Gaz let's out a low whistle as his eyes scan your figure, ending on your legs as well. 

“What?” You ask concerned as you stare down at your own legs thinking the worst, like how you might have missed a spot shaving or something. 

“Nothin’ love,” Gaz says, unable to lift his gaze from your legs. “Just never seen you in anything but long pants before.”

Your cheeks warm at his words. It's true, the climate had yet to allow for anything but long pants. Even to sleep, you found yourself too cold without long sleep pants. 

“Christ, you've got gorgeous legs, kitten.” Soap says, letting his eyes trail your form. “Keepin’ those hidden from us?” 

Your face feels like it's on fire as they stare at you, and quickly turn to face the large mirror across from them in an attempt to steady the butterflies in your stomach. 

“What do you think?” Emily asks, stepping up next to you. 

“It's a little too...churchy for a date.” You say smoothing your hands over the skirt. “Definitely need something fancier than this.”

You try on a few of the others, but none of them are right. Too short, too long, too formal, not formal enough. Johnny brings you more to try, a couple sticking out, but you're not sold on any of them. 

The last dress you have yet to try on catches your eye as you pull it off the hook. It's a deep blue color, almost black. It's long sleeved and covers your front entirely, but the back is open. It's short, the skirt hem long enough to cover your ass, but you wouldn't dare bend over. It hugs your figure, accentuating the curves and lines of your body. 

Your cheeks are warm as you step out of the changing room, both Gaz and Johnny going slack-jawed as they stare at you. Even Emily looks in awe as you stand in front of them. 

“I think you've found the one, love.” Gaz says, his eyes trailing your form. “Give us a spin.”

You do a slow turn, not missing the way their eyes widen in the mirror when they see the back, Johnny still frozen as you turn back to face them. 

“How do you feel?” Emily asks, stepping up to you. 

“Good.” You say, your face still warm. “Really good.”

“Yeah,” She says, looking you over. “I think you've hit the mark with this one. Let me grab shoes and we'll put the whole look together.”

You turn to face the mirror as she steps away, your eyes meeting Gaz's as he steps up to you. 

“You look fantastic, love.” He says, leaning in close over your shoulder, his breath fanning your ear. Goosebumps form on your skin as his fingers slowly trail up the line of your spine. “Price is going to want to devour you instantly as soon as he sees you in this one.”

You shiver at his words, biting your lip as his fingers splay out across your upper back. “You think so?”

There's a mischievous glint in his eyes as he holds your gaze through the mirror. “He won't be able to keep his hands off you. Gonna drive him insane, making him sit through dinner looking like a delicious dessert.” 

You fear you might start smoking from how warm you feel, glad for Emily's reappearance. You try on the shoes she brings, opting for the shorter heels for the sake of your own dignity. 

Johnny distracts you as Gaz pays for the items, spending far too much on you but neither will let you complain. It's what they're supposed to do. 

They are your pack after all. 

“What about lingerie?” Johnny asks, turning to look at you as you sit in the car. 

Your face burns at his question. You hadn't thought about that bit. 

“Gotta dress up the whole fit.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you. 

“Lay off her, perv.” Gaz says, smacking Johnny's chest. “He's right though, gotta make sure the whole outfit matches.”

You feel like you might implode in the backseat. You might not make it to Saturday at this rate. 

You wake early on Saturday. You don't have to be up early. There's nothing going on until tonight, no need for you to rise earlier than the sun. Yet, you can't help the anticipation burning in your stomach, the nervous fluttering in your chest. Tonight you're going to sleep with Price for the first time. Tonight you'll allow him closer than you've ever allowed anyone. 

You have an outfit, you have fancy underwear, even new shoes. You're not sure how you want to wear your hair. You're not sure on makeup either, though Price has seen you plenty without it and has yet to offer any complaints. 

You grab your phone, laying in bed and scrolling hair tutorials until the sun comes up and you start hearing movement in the hallway. You don’t bother changing, pulling on shoes before stepping out. You are hungry, even after spending half the day in town and eating dinner out with Gaz and Johnny yesterday. You slip out the door, coming face to face with Ghost. You tilt your head back, staring up at him. 

“Didn’t expect to see you.” He grumbles. “Figured you’d be busy getting ready.” 

“I’ve got like ten hours until I have to be ready.” You say, blinking up at him. “It doesn’t take that long.” 

He lets out a huff, rolling his eyes. “Come on.” 

You follow him out of the barracks, but you find yourself not having to speed walk quite as fast to keep up with him today. 

“Are you upset?” You ask, kicking up your pace a bit so you can walk side by side with him. 

“About what?” He asks. 

“Price and I.” You say. 

“Why would I be?” He sounds genuinely baffled that you’re asking him. 

You shrug. “You’re an alpha in the pack too, and I didn’t really ask anyone but Price.” 

“Price is your alpha.” He says, as if it’s the most straightforward thing in the world. He’s not wrong, Price is the only one that really matters when it comes to you, since he’s the pack alpha, and he’ll be the one claiming you. 

“Would you ever want to be?” You ask, looking up at him. 

He meets your gaze as he opens the door to the mess, not answering as you slip into the hall. He stands closer to you than he normally does as you get in line for food, tailing you like a shadow as you find Johnny among the drowsy and hungover soldiers in the mess. 

You take a seat across from him, Ghost taking his spot next to Johnny. You can feel the nerves beginning to take hold as you eat, thinking about your date tonight. It’s not like you really have to impress Price much, though you suppose you could make him dislike you rather easily. You’d rather avoid that situation, as there’s no getting out of mating and being claimed by him. You’re going to be part of his pack whether he likes you or not. 

What if he finds you boring? You’re not even sure what you could talk about. It’s not like you do much, and he already knows most everything he can about you. The only thing you have to talk about are things you’d rather not discuss during your first date. You’d prefer not to discuss them at all. 

“You’ll be fine.” Johnny says as you walk back to the barracks. “Just get ‘im talking, and ye won’t need tae worry about gettin’ a word in yourself.” 

Johnny’s words do make you giggle. You’re sure Price has so much more to talk about than you do. You barely know anything about him in general. 

It’s ironic that you’re more nervous about dinner than you are about the fact Price is going to take your virginity tonight. 

You did ask for this. It’ll be good, getting to know him before your heat starts. The idea of going through your heat with a virtual stranger is terrifying to you, and Price had so willingly offered to do this so that doesn’t happen, so you feel more comfortable with being mated and claimed by someone you at least somewhat know. This is your chance to get to know your pack alpha, your alpha before you’re forced to. This is your chance to make your own decision, to have some control over a life that’s been dictated for you this far. 

You spend the morning in a nervous panic, looking up tips online, tutorials, possible questions he might ask and thinking up answers that will make you sound interesting at least. Answers that won’t just be parroting things that he already knows. Gaz brings you lunch, letting you continue to prepare for your date, knowing the chances of you having a breakdown if you’re forced around people are high right now. 

You give yourself ample time to get ready, showering and moisturizing, making sure you smell clean and look nice. You do your hair, taking your time to make yourself look decent. You opt for minimal make up, wanting to make yourself seem like you at least put a little effort into your looks. 

You're strapping on your shoes when the knock comes at the door. Six o'clock sharp, just as you expected. You take a deep breath, adjusting your dress before you open the door.

John is standing on the other side, dressed in a button up shirt and slacks. You look him over, the fresh scent of cologne reaching your nose. His eyes rake your form, his scent slipping through the cologne as his gaze darkens a bit. Gaz was right. He does look like he wants to devour you. 

“You clean up nicely.” You say, looking him over again. His shirt hugs his muscles nicely, his pants obviously tailored to fit him. You haven't seen him in anything but fatigues and civilian clothes so far. 

“Was going to say the same to you.” He says, lips pulling up into a smile. “You look beautiful, sweetheart.” 

Your cheeks warm at the compliment. “Thank you.”

“Hungry?” He asks, offering you an arm. 

“Always.” You say, taking his arm, letting him lead you towards the rec room. 

The lights inside are dimmed, the table usually reserved for games set up with a tablecloth and candles, along with two plates covered with cloches, and a bottle of wine. You're not sure when he managed to procure the wine, or maybe he had it saved and decided this was as good a time as any. 

“Wow.” You say, impressed by the effort he obviously put into everything. 

“I bribed the boys out of here for a few hours.” He says, leading you to the table. “Wasn't easy.”

“I bet.” You say, sitting down in one of the chairs, letting him push it in for you. 

He pours you both glasses of wine before taking the cloches off the plates. You blink in surprise at the meal on the plate. Spaghetti, a salad, and bread. It's so simple, yet it takes you right back to weeknight dinners at home. 

“You made this?” You ask as he takes the seat across from you. 

He nods. “I've amassed many skills over the years. I'm no five star chef, but I can throw things together in a pinch.”

“Well it looks good.” You say, picking up your fork. 

It tastes good too. It's so simple, yet it's one of the best things you've eaten in the last month. You miss a lot of things about America, and the food is starting to be one of those. 

You and John make small talk as you eat, the wine warming your body and easing your nerves. 

“How long has it been,” You ask him as you clear your plate. “Since you were with an omega last?”

“Two years.” He says, taking a sip of wine. 

Your eyes widen in surprise. You know they've been with omegas in the past, taking advantage of barrack bunnies and the swaths of willing omegas you know populate near military bases. You just hadn't thought it would be that far back in the past.

“Right around the time the task force was created.” He continues. “We were too busy bonding and working on the task force, by the time we had a moment long enough for anything like that, we didn't need them anymore.”

“That must have been torture.” You say, staring at him wide eyed. 

“We're trained for that sort of thing.” He says with a smile. “How to fight off those urges, those needs. When you're in the field, something like that could get you killed. You don't pass selection into the SAS until you can show mastery over those skills.”

“Damn.” You say, taking a sip of your wine. “Still, it couldn't have been easy.”

“It can be hard, once you've been with an omega, to go without. But that's just part of the job.” 

“Well, I suppose that's partly why I'm here.” You say, huffing out a laugh. 

“Perhaps.” He says. “I'm certain we're not getting the full story.”

The double meaning isn't lost on you. There's a lot they don't know about you, things that are safer buried deep where they can't hurt anyone. Things you'd like to keep buried for the rest of time. 

“It’s nothing...bad is it?” You ask, searching his gaze. 

“I’d like to think not,” He says. 

But... 

You don’t need to hear him say it. You know it’s there, lingering at the end of that statement. You wonder how many times he’s been in these situations, forced to place blind trust in someone and hope they have the best intentions in mind. You’re all too familiar with those sorts of situations. Putting blind trust in strangers was your life purpose as soon as you presented as an omega. 

“We’re not going to let anything happen to you.” He says, staring at you with such conviction you can’t help but believe him. “You’re part of our pack, which makes you part of this team, even if bureaucracy says otherwise. We take care of each other, and that includes you. You’re our omega, regardless of whatever the endgame is for this initiative.” 

You feel almost breathless at his words, at his declaration of loyalty to you. You know how much loyalty means to someone like him, the kind of promise words like that uphold. They’d give their lives to defend you. You’d fight to defend them too, if it came down to it. Not that you could do much, but you’d try. 

“You’re my omega.” John says, reaching across the table to take your hand in his. “I take care of what's mine.”

You nod, trying to fight the tears welling in your eyes. “I know. You've...you've been a better alpha than I could have ever hoped for. Despite everything you've been kind and caring and understanding. I know some things we learned at the institute weren’t right, but...I was expecting a lot worse.”

His thumb draws circles on the back of your hand, his fingers gently squeezing yours. “I'm glad I could prove that wrong. I know this situation is weird and less than ideal, but I fear I'll have to tell Kate she was right. She did pick a good omega.”

You smile, preening a bit under his praise. “That’s all I can try to be.” 

“You can be so much more than that.” He says, lifting your hand to his lips. His beard tickles your skin as he presses a line of kisses across the back of your hand before turning it, kissing across your palm to your wrist. He presses his nose against the skin there, inhaling deeply. “You’re sure, about tonight?” 

Your fingers brush his cheek as he holds your hand against his face. Your heart is thudding your throat at the proximity, those nervous flutters starting in your stomach again. He’s giving you an out, a chance to take back what you had asked for. You know he wouldn’t blame you. He was more than willing to wait for your heat to start, for when you had no choice, when it would mean less because you would be desperate and needy for him. 

You don’t want that, though. You want him to want you before his instincts tell him he does. You want to know he’s not just fulfilling a duty, scratching an itch that’s been tickling him for two years now. You want him to want you as you are now. You want him to choose you. 

“Yes.” You say, pressing your palm flat against his cheek. “Just...be gentle with me?” 

“Of course.” He says, kissing your palm again. “You change your mind at any time, you tell me, yeah?” 

You nod. “Yeah.” 

“Good.” He takes your hand in his again, standing from his seat. 

Nerves mix with excitement as he pulls you to your feet with him, stepping up close to you. His hand lifts, tilting your chin up. Your stomach flutters as you meet his gaze, his eyes warm and soft as he stares at you. Affection shines in them as his thumb brushes your lip before he’s leaning down, pressing his lips to yours.

The kiss is short and sweet, like the ones you’ve shared with him before. Yet, at the same time it feels different. There’s warmth beginning to blossom under your skin, the kiss not just a simple sign of affection this time. It’s the overture, the appetizer, just a teasing taste of what’s to come. 

You hold his hand as he leads you down the hallway, heels clacking on the tile floor. It makes your face warm, the thought that they all know what it means, they can hear it and they know what’s about to happen. They know where you’re going, what you’re about to do. 

John opens his door, motioning for you to enter. You haven’t been in any of their rooms yet, you haven’t invaded their own sacred spaces. Your steps are slow and cautious as you breach that barrier, John’s scent washing over you as you step into his room. 

It’s neat and tidy, just as you expected it would be. It’s not laid out all that differently from your own, though perhaps a bit more organized and clinical than yours. There’s a shelf next to his nightstand, stuffed with books and what you can assume are souvenirs from places he’s been. There’s stacks of papers on the desk, his clothes and shoes tucked away neatly in their places. His bed is slightly bigger than yours, and you wonder if that’s a perk of his status, or if he pulled some strings once he learned he was getting an omega. 

The door clicking shut draws your attention back to John, the click of the handle a finality. You’re doing this. There’s no going back now. 

Not that you want to. 

John steps up to you, staring down at you. You stare up into his eyes as his hand comes to rest on your waist, his touch hot through the thin fabric of your dress. “You’re sure you want to do this?” He asks, voice rumbling in his chest. 

You nod, your hands slowly sliding up his arms, feeling the muscle hidden beneath his dress shirt. “Yes.” 

His lips meet yours, beard tickling your skin as he kisses you. You let him lead, leaning into him as he pulls you closer against his chest. He’s so warm, so firm under your hands as you grip his shoulders. His hand slides from your hip to your back, a gasp parting your lips as his calloused fingers touch the bare skin of your back. Goosebumps raise on your skin, a shiver running down your spine at his touch. He tilts his head, taking advantage of your parted lips to slip his tongue into your mouth.

He tastes like wine, a quiet sound leaving your throat as he pulls you tighter against him, pressing your body into his. You can feel all of him, the hard ridges, the strength in his body as he cages you in his arms. Your head is spinning, intoxicated purely by the smell and taste of him. 

Something rumbles deep in his chest, your entire body shivering in response. Your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, your hips pressed flush against his. You can feel him, the bulge in his pants pressing against your stomach. You’ve been able to smell the musky tinge of arousal in his scent all evening, and you wonder how long he’s been hard. Has it been since he saw you? Or has he been thinking about this all day? 

The thought thrills you, makes your omega preen in the back of your mind. You did this. Your alpha is all worked up because of you. 

A whimper leaves your lips as his hand slips lower, smoothing over the curve of your ass. He mumbles a curse against your lips before they blaze a path down the line of your jaw to your neck. You tilt your head, bearing your throat for him. A low rumble of approval vibrates through his chest, his hand squeezing your ass. The sound has your omega practically belly up, the dampness between your thighs intensifying as your scent gets heavier in the air. 

John groans against your throat, teeth nipping at your neck just over your scent gland. “Such a good girl for me.” He groans, his hand on your ass guiding your hips to grind against his. “Such a good omega.” 

You whine at the praise, hands blindly sliding down his chest to pull at the buttons of his shirt. Your fingers are trembling slightly from excitement, fumbling as you attempt to get his shirt off. You need to feel him, his skin against yours, the warmth of him pressed against you. 

“Easy pup.” His voice rumbles against your throat, teeth nipping at the delicate skin before he pulls back, hands taking over to strip him of his button up and undershirt. 

You lick your lips as his skin is revealed to you, your hand automatically lifting to touch him. You hesitate for a half a second but he makes no move to stop you. Your eyes trail over his form, over the many, many scars that decorate his skin like some kind of macabre painting. Lines and jagged slices, the telltale star shaped marks of bullet wounds. Cuts and nicks from knives or bullets, you can’t tell the difference. 

Your fingers settle on a rather large scar on his side, starting at the base of his ribs and curling around his side. It’s an old scar, but the skin is still rough and uneven. Whatever had caused it, it took a chunk out of him. You don’t want to think about it, about how every scar could have been a close call. How many times he’s been on the brink of death. 

“I’ll tell you about them later.” He says, taking your hand in his and lifting it to his lips. He kisses your fingertips, his beard tickling your skin. “Tonight is about you.” 

He pulls you close again, leaning down to press his lips to yours. His hands are warm against your back as he wraps himself around you again, trapping your hands against his bare chest. Your nails dig into his skin as his hands sink lower, grabbing handfuls of your ass. He groans, sinking his teeth into your bottom lip. He presses you backwards, and you trust him to guide you until your legs hit the side of his bed. 

“Gonna be a good girl for me, yeah?” He growls, his voice rough around the edges as his alpha slips through. 

“Yes, alpha!” You gasp against his lips, your head tilting back in submission. 

“Always such a good omega for me.” He praises you, teeth nipping at your throat. “Good omegas kneel for their alphas.” He says, pushing you backwards so you plop down on his bed. “But a good alpha,” He slowly lowers himself before you, dropping to one knee, then the other as his hands wrap around your ankles. “Kneels for his omega.”

Your face warms as you stare down at him, unable to do anything but watch as his hands make quick work of your shoes, setting them neatly beside the bed. His skin is rough against yours as his hands drag up your legs, slowly parting them. He moves himself closer, kneeling between your parted thighs. His beard scratches the sensitive skin of your inner thigh as he reaches up, pushing on your stomach until you're laying flat on his bed. He can see up your skirt now, and you're silently glad for the lacy panties Johnny had insisted on. 

“Do you trust me?” His lips brush your inner thigh as his hands pause just at the hem of your skirt where it's ridden up almost to your hips. 

“Yes, alpha.” You say, lifting your head to stare down at him. 

He meets your gaze as he presses a kiss to your inner thigh, his hands continuing to press upwards until your dress is hiked around your waist. Your heart is fluttering rapidly in your chest as you stare down at him, his gaze leaving your eyes to stare at the soaked lace barely covering your most private parts. 

His hands leave your hips to curl around the lace, giving it a sharp tug. The fabric snaps easily, the shreds falling to the floor. Your lip part as you stare at him in shock.  

“I'll buy you a new pair.” He says, his hands gripping your thighs to pull them further apart. 

The cool air in the room hits your slicked folds, making you shudder. He's barely touched you and already you can feel how slick you are. His lips press against your inner thigh again, blazing a path upwards. His gaze meets yours again as his hands shift to grip your hips, adjusting your position on the bed before he leans in, dragging his tongue through your folds. 

You gasp at the foreign sensation, your thighs pressing against his broad shoulders. His mouth is warm as it closes over your pussy, his tongue licking another slow stripe up your folds until he reaches the spot that has your inhale turning into a gasp. 

He focuses his attention there, dragging slow lines across your clit with his tongue. You let your arms give out, laying flat on the bed again. Little whimpers leave your lips as he teases your clit, your thighs already trembling. It’s been so long since you’ve touched yourself. Not since before you left the institute four months ago. 

You don’t last very long. 

Your thighs squeeze around his shoulders as your orgasm is ripped from you suddenly. You let out a cry that’s probably too loud, but you don’t care who could have heard you as your back arches off the bed, pressing your hips closer to John’s face. His hands hold your thighs, keeping you still as his tongue continues to tease your clit, working you through your orgasm. 

It’s not until you’re writhing in his grasp, letting out little whimpers that he relents, lifting his face from between your thighs. His beard is shiny with your juices, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. It’s obscene and yet, it has heat pulsing straight between your legs again. He lets out a chuckle, the scent of your arousal washing over him. 

“Fuckin sweet as sugar, love.” He says as he pushes himself up from between your legs, his body folding over yours on the bed. 

His face presses into your neck, inhaling deeply. Your pussy flutters at the thought of him claiming you now, sinking his teeth into your skin to mark you as his forever. He could. It would be so easy for him to do it. His tongue laves over the skin covering your scent gland, a shiver running through you. Your arms wrap around him, holding him against you as your scents mingle, musky with arousal. 

“Alpha...” You whine, your hips pressing up against the bulge in his pants. He’s fully hard now, the fabric of his pants providing delicious friction against your folds. 

He shushes you, pressing a kiss to your throat before he pushes himself up over you. “Soon, love.” He says, moving until he’s standing in front of you. “Think you’re a bit overdressed still.” 

Your eyes dart down to his pants. “So are you.” 

He smirks, his hands dropping to your waist, slowly pushing your dress up higher. You let him slip it over your head, lifting your arms to help him. You’re bare before him, warmth spreading through your veins as he stares down at you. Your hands lift, coming to rest on his thighs. You can feel the muscle through the fabric, the strength of him beneath your hands. How easily he could take control, pin you down and take what he wants with little regard for you or your pleasure. How easily he could hurt you, snap your bones like they’re toothpicks, bruise and batter your body without even straining a muscle. 

Yet he stands here, patiently watching as your hands move closer and closer to the prominent bulge in his fitted pants. He doesn’t even twitch as your hand cups his hard length, your breath stuttering at the sheer size of him. He’s big like most alphas are, or so you’ve heard. 

His eyes stare into you as you undo his belt, popping the button on his pants open. He finally moves as you pull down the zipper, helping you tug his pants and briefs down. His cock stands at attention, almost as stiff as he is. You stare at his veiny cock with wide eyes, the tip flushed almost red with how hard he is. 

“Christ.” You breathe, staring at him in awe. 

You did that. 

“Easy, love.” He says, leaning down to wrap an arm around your waist. “I said tonight was about you.” 

He moves you so you’re laid out on the bed, your head hitting his pillow. The scent of him floods your nose as he joins you on the bed, the frame creaking as he kneels between your legs. Nerves twist in your stomach as you continue to stare at his cock bobbing between his thighs as he runs his hands along your legs. It’s going to hurt, you know that. It suddenly seems daunting, this request. At least during your heat you’d be so out of it with need you wouldn’t really feel anything. And you’d have plenty of slick to help. 

“None of that.” He says, squeezing your thighs gently. “I told you I’d take care of you.” 

You nod, swallowing thickly. 

“We’ve got more work to do before we reach that point. I’m not just going to stuff my cock into you like some needy pup.” He stares at you. “You tell me and I’ll stop, alright?” 

You nod again. “Yes, alpha.” 

Your breath hitches as his hands reach the junction of your thighs, one moving to your stomach, the other dragging through your folds, gathering your wetness on his fingers. They’re so much thicker than your own, your pussy clenching as he presses against the entrance. 

“Relax for me, love.” He says, rubbing gentle circles on your stomach with his thumb. 

His finger presses into you and your lips part at the intrusion. You clamp tight around his finger, making him groan. 

“Easy.” He says, his thumb moving to circle your clit. 

A breathy whine leaves your lips as his finger presses deeper into you, reaching further than you ever could. Your hand reaches up to thread through his hair, letting the short cropped strands slide through your fingers. It’s softer than you imagined, though you expect he too had spent the afternoon preparing for tonight as well. The mental image of him lathering himself in moisturizer would have made you laugh if his finger hadn’t brushed against a spot inside you that has your hips lifting off the bed. 

He leans down, lips blazing a path up your stomach, between your breasts to your throat. He swallows your moans as he works you open with his fingers, the lewd sound of his fingers thrusting into your wet pussy only adding to the pleasure coursing through you. You can feel it building within you, heat burning through your veins. Price groans against your lips as your nails scratch his scalp, his cock leaking against your thigh. You want him, need him inside of you. You need to feel him, you need to be close to him. 

“Alpha, please.” You whimper, tugging at his hair. 

He stares down at you, eyes blown with lust. “Please, what?” 

“Need you.” You whimper, grinding against his hand. “Please, sir.” 

Price closes his eyes, letting out a groan. His cock twitches against your thigh, his fingers slipping from you. He breathes out a curse, shifting to open his nightstand. He pulls out a bottle of lube, sitting back on his knees to squirt some into his hand. You’re plenty slick, but you watch as he rubs the lube on his cock, tossing the bottle back into the open drawer. 

He kneels between your thighs again, staring down at you as one of his hands comes to rest on your hip. You feel intoxicated, your head spinning from the intensity of his scent around you and the knowledge of what’s about to happen. 

Price folds his body over yours again, the head of his cock brushing your folds. You moan into his mouth as he kisses you, parting your thighs further for him as his tip catches on your opening. Your hands grip his shoulders as he presses into you, the stretch stinging a bit as he works you open. This is it. There’s no going back now. 

You don’t want to. 

You whimper quietly as he pushes into you, nails biting into his skin. It’s too much, yet you can’t get enough of it as he sinks further in. You let out a shaky breath as he pulls away from your lips staring down at your face. 

“Alright?” He asks, stilling where he is. 

You nod. “Just need a moment. You’re really big.” 

His lips twitch up into a smile, a pleased growl rumbling through his chest. “Don’t start talking like that, love.” He says, leaning down to press kisses to your face. 

“Or what?” You ask, your nails digging harder into his skin. 

“I might not be able to control myself.” He growls, his alpha slipping out around the edges of his voice. 

Your pussy clenches at his words, walls clamping down around him. He lets out another growl, hiking your leg up over his hip. It forces him deeper into you, your breath catching at the feeling of him spreading you open. 

“Fuck,” You breathe, rocking your hips to take him even deeper into you. 

John’s arms frame your head as he presses his body against yours. Your arms slip around his back, legs locking around his waist as he begins to move slowly, working himself deeper and deeper into you until he’s pressed flush against you. He stills for a moment, pressing his forehead to yours as you both breathe. You’re trembling just slightly, overwhelmed with being so close to him, to your alpha. The pain and discomfort is gone, replaced by burning heat as desire pulses through your veins. 

“Please, alpha.” You whimper. 

He shushes you, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “I’ve got you, omega.” 

Your skin is slick with sweat already as he begins to rock his hips into you. Your hands press into his back, feeling the muscles shift and flex as he moves. It feels good, the friction of your bodies, the way he stretches you open with every thrust. Your head is spinning with pleasure at the thought of being so close to another person, being so connected with someone else. 

Not just someone else, with your alpha. 

The wet squelch of your pussy as he thrusts into you is loud, the mattress creaking as he picks up speed. You’re trembling, your thighs squeezing around his hips as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge. You’re not sure how he’s lasted this long, especially without any sort of release for himself yet tonight. 

Perhaps it was the training he spoke about earlier.

You’re not sure how he manages it. You couldn’t have that kind of control. Not after this. Not after knowing how good it can feel, how good he can make you feel. 

“Fucking feel so good.” He grunts, his breath fanning her ear. His own skin is slicked with sweat, muscles twitching under her hands. “So fucking tight and warm.” 

“John!” You gasp, digging your fingers into his shoulder blades as he picks up the pace even more, his hips snapping against yours. 

“Gonna cum for me? Gonna cum like a good omega? Need you to cum for me.” He grunts, staring down at you. 

You let out a whine, arching against him as you seek your second high of the night. His cock brushes that spot inside of you, stars nearly erupting behind your eyes. 

“Right there.” You gasp, thighs shaking around his hips. “Fuck, right there!” 

You’re being loud but you don’t care, nails dragging down his back as he focuses his thrusts right at that spot inside you. You cum with a cry, pussy squeezing around him. He lets out a loud groan, his hips stilling as he twitches inside you. His muscles go lax, his body falling on top of yours. He manages to keep himself from squishing you beneath him, his face pressing against your neck. 

The smell of sex, arousal, sweat, and your own combined scents are heavy in the air. You’re shaking, still wrapped tightly around John as he lays on top of you. He’s breathing heavily, warm breaths fanning against your neck. You don’t want to move, your mind buzzing with the aftershocks of your orgasm still. 

“Alright?” He murmurs, lips pressing a gentle kiss against your throat. 

You nod, slowly unwinding yourself from around him. “Yeah. ‘M good.” 

“Fucking Christ, a man could get addicted to that.” He says, lifting his face from your neck. “Sweet little omega.” 

Your face warms more than it already feels, and you lean into his touch as his fingers brush your cheek. 

“Let me go get something to clean this mess up with.” He says, pushing himself up so he’s kneeling. 

You can’t help but giggle as his joints pop and he lets out a groan at the effort. “Need a break, old man.” 

His eyes flash playfully, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Going with the old man insults again, huh?” 

You give him a look. “You’re the one grunting while getting up.” 

You let out a surprised yelp as he brings his hand down on your thigh, the skin tingling as he gets up. “I’ll show you old man.” He murmurs as he heads for his en suite. 

You bite your lip as you begin to feel his release slipping out of you, the feeling causing desire to stir in your stomach once more. 

John tsks as he comes back, wiping the mess between your thighs. “Needy little thing.” He practically purrs, stepping away to toss the rag into the bathroom sink before he returns, climbing back onto the bed.

You press as close to him as you can, nuzzling into his neck. Your limbs are still twitching a bit, your mind buzzing from the aftermath of what had just transpired. John wraps his arms around you, holding you close to his chest. You press a gentle kiss to his neck, earning a rumble in response. Your own rumble starts up as you purr contently, tossing a leg over his hip to allow you to get as close to him as possible. 

He huffs out a laugh, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Comfortable?” 

You purr louder in response, sleep beginning to fog the corners of your mind. 

“Good girl.” He says, pressing another kiss to your head. “Sleep. Alpha’s got you.”

NEXT ->

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[mayasaurusss]

yoyoyoyo what if this time it’s reader who is a werewolf? and reader is with jackie, jackie doesn’t know until eventually she finds out because they panick and tell her. she is a little apprehensive but then she warms up to it. eventually she gets used to all of it, reader’s body heat, how they can retract their teeth, the way their eye colour changes. and in the bedroom? she wants to hear them growl in her hair and go absolutely primal as she gets strapped down just bc she’s a lovely pillow princess bunny. if it can be sweet and smutty that’d be awesomeee also keep up the good work ur writing is amazing ;)

-🫳

Hello new anon! Thank you for your request and encouragment! It's what keeps my blog going!

Contents: genderneutral reader, adult timeline Jackie, strap can be read as dick,smut.

The blood stuck to your skin like dried concrete; the smell of iron, which was so delicious before, now stanks and sticks to your bathroom walls, making the whole place smell like a butcher shop. You are lucky that today she's not home, having gone to meet up with her old soccer team from highschool. You are sure she would leave you instantly if she saw you like this, and would probably call the cops on you. You wouldn't blame her.

Keeping that secret of yours from your lovely girlfriend has proved to be a harder task than you had thought.

You scrub away at your skin with hot water and soap, resigning to tweeze out the bigger chunks with your fingers. When all is done, you find scratches on your skin, probably left from the struggle. Without a doubt, Jackie will ask you about them, and you will have a hard time explaining their source.

"A cat attacked me" or "I fell off the stairs" doesn't work anymore on her. And, if it happens one more time, she might start to think you are somehow cheating on her. With a sigh, you apply some concealer where the scars are, and hope for the best.

Jackie would take some time to get adjusted to all of...this. Now that your secret is out, you can let loose all those traits that you had suppressed in front of Jackie; and while she finds some of them cute, she's not a fan of others. She's especially not a fan of your shedding, having to clean for at least an hour after your transformation, with you looking and whining at her like a guilty puppy.

Looking at yourself in the mirror, nothing seems out of the ordinary. Good, you think. You clean the bathroom off of the countless of hair left from your shedding. The amount is probably enough to make a pelt out off. After a strenuous three hours, you are finally done, not a trace of hair left on the floor.

Now that that's taken care of, you can take a breath of relief.

But you can't help but wonder, what will you do when the full moon comes?

You, as reckless as ever, agreed to an indoor date with Jackie, not realizing that the moon would be full that night. You could try to make an excuse, but on the other hand, you could not say 'no' to her; she had a far too tight hold on your heart for you to deny her. You'll just have to tell her.

On the couch, with her head resting on your shoulder, Jackie doesn't seem to pick up on your weird vibe. You gulp down your fears, breathing through your nose before whispering to her "Jackie... I..." but you can feel the transformation getting a hold of you as soon as you speak. As your canines become too big, your nails too long and your body too large, you break out, escaping from the window and leaving Jackie behind.

Some time passess before you see her again. You had remained confined to the parks and green areas of Wisayok, moving only during the darkest hours, when no one was around; stress so heavy that you remained in your wolf form for several days.

The only reason Jackie found you, was because rumors had it that there was something roaming in town, and she, as usual, just picked herself up and acted with her guts rather than her brain. It took her a while to convince you to go back home with her: you were far too scared to know what she really thought of you. But as everyone around her always thought, her charisma would take her far, and you were back in her arms again.

But she can get through some things. Like, for example, your body heat. You had always avoided sleeping with Jackie too much, fleeing the aftermath of your lovemaking as soon as you possibly could. She never understood why, but as the heat from your body literally starts to suffocate her, she can take a guess. She has to admit that the first times she saw your canines grow when you were having a fight, or your eyes changing colour while on going the transformation freaked her out.

What she can get used to, is the power dynamic that plays in the bedroom. "Come on... please?" she has been nagging you on and on about this for half an hour by now; and having her arms draped over your shoulders while she tries to egg you on while you're studying, really doesn't help your case. "Okay... if I do it, will you promise to shut up later?" she jumps up on your lap, those eyes of her boring into yours with a heat that could melt you.

"Fuck!", she screams as you dick her down, her legs keeping your hips close to her. Despite the thickness of your wolf skin, you can still feel Jackie's nails leaving moon shaped dents on you. She trashes in your grasp, moving her hips in tandem with yours.

She pleads you to go faster, to fuck her properly; but you are too scared to hurt her, so you resign to going at a slow pace.

You didn’t know how far Jackie was willing to go to get what she wanted.

"What, can't do it?" she breathlessly asks. You can feel a building sense of annoyance in your stomach. You shouldn't listen to her. You know how she gets-.

"I... I should have known" there it is. You try to not let her words affect your impulses. You were already having a hard time controlling yourself and she's just egging you on.

The dirty glimmer in her eyes is the only clue you get, before she reaches for your ear and whispers.

"You know who would take care of me? Shauna".

Fuck it.

In a matter of seconds, you have left Jackie's pussy and rolled her over, pushing her upper body down on the mattress, slamming into her with every thrust.

She brought this to herself.

Did she want to see you at your worst? Wanted to see you at your most primal state, wanted you to treat her like the slut she was?

Well, she could fucking have it.

And Jackie? Oh she's absolutely loving this. She wants nothing more than to be taken by you, to feel your cock move inside of her, to hear you groan in her hair every time you speared her down.

Every thrust builds her up toward her own orgasm, tingling her body with pleasure. She couldn't help it, and yet she had only lasted a couple of minutes. She can feel incredibly close, but she needs a little incentive, and in this position, she can't reach her clit.

"S-shauna would fuck me harder" and that does it. You take her by her hips and drive into her so hard and good, that Jackie cums right away, eyes rolling into the back of her head as she screams her peak away. You don't stop until your legs get tired, and by the looks of it, once they do, Jackie had cummed several times, your cock wet with her release.

"Hey Jax..." Jackie is so out of it that she doesn't even answer you, just humms into the pillow, too fucked out to make a coherent sentence. "Are you okay?" you think you might have fucked her a little too good. The skin of her shoulder is red, her pussy clenching repeatedly as you speak to her.

"Hmmm".

You spend several minutes cleaning her up with a towel, giving her water and massaging her sore spots

When you are done, you get in bed with her, kissing her goodnight.

And Jackie thinks that maybe, she likes gentle you better.

But she's sooo gonna get dicked down as soon as possible.

[falafels]

hello will you please spare me any Gordon family crumbs you have 🤲

ADLER OMG HII!! CRUMBS OK LET ME SCOUR THE NOTES APP

-Jeremy Gordon is still trying to put off his Fiona Gallagher scale crashout and it’s mostly working. The fox he’d get on with best is Renee, and they have a brief conversation at Seth’s graduation before Nicky comes over to ask him how many times Seth was dropped as a baby. (seven, twelve if you count the time Jeremy and Marcus (and Ricky a bit but he was only 2) decided to play catch with him out in the yard. very aerodynamic baby is on Seth’s CV)

-Tabitha Gordon big time sufferer of older sister-younger brother disease where they would scrap fairly routinely until around the time seth was 12 and she went to put him in a chokehold for taking her jacket and he just launched her across the room into the dresser. and he looked down at his hands like he didn’t realise he could do that now either and got all smug like Ohohoho. No more banging my head on the wall or twisting my arm behind my back so you can do makeup on me (that one hadn’t happened for a few years at that point but he didn’t want it to happen again) or pelting me with old bullet casings found down by the creek. No no. There’s a neeeeew sheriff in town. alp holding his hand out in front of him like hes gonna repel her with The Force. and Tabby blinks for a moment. and he thinks this is it. and instead she gets back up and seamlessly transitions from physical abuse into verbal abuse.

-They all used to hang out (not usually with each other, each of them thought this was their super cool secret spot they would go to with their loser friends at one point or another) down at the creek. Scotty likes to go down there to “look at nature”, Jessie went down there to appreciate the gifts of nature and get stoned out of her mind, Seth liked to just fuck about in the water, Ricky and Jamie both called it “free time off work creek” because both of them separately chose to drink from it and got sick, Marcus used to meet his dealer there, Tabitha would get drunk with people from high school, Michael would go there to read (sometimes while Seth was fucking about in the water), and Jeremy would climb the tree that rose over the water and sit in it just to be alone for a moment. also to smoke

-Seth wasn’t actually the first of his sibling to overdose, but he didn’t know this for several years until Marcus mentioned it while they were throwing tyres and sorting shit down at Ricky’s auto body shop. because Marcus is a complete asshole, it’s entirely throwaway and at Tabby’s expense, some shit about “yeah new boyfriend let’s see if this one beats her to death or if she nearly beats him to it again lol” or something equally horrendous and Seth is like hold up what do you mean by that and Marcus explains that when Tabitha was about 16 she got really dangerously into injectables because of the guy she was dating and the group she hung out with and one day overdosed in a park with them and the guy just panicked and dropped her off in the front yard where Jeremy found her and took her to the hospital. and Marcus finishes telling Seth this story and immediately offers him loose pills he found at work

-Scotty is the most likely sibling to lose in a fight, not for being the youngest but for more or less growing up in a slightly different world because most of his siblings had learned a shred of emotional maturity by that point. Michael is the least violent by nature but would still absolutely wreck anyone’s shit if they picked the fight but wouldn’t swing first or second. He doesn’t like to fight but he’s still a Gordon so he knows how to throw a punch and take a hit

-Ricky has been really getting into telenovelas. His boss’s wife insists on having her soaps play on the shitty old tv down at the shop and Ricky and the other guys bitch about it but are actually fairly invested and Ricky’s also picked up some Spanish from it. his on-again off-again girlfriend Rita calls him gay for it (the telenovela not the Spanish) but Ricky insists he’s not gay because, quote, “he doesn’t even use deodorant”

-Jessie Gordon is almost entirely fearless, with the three exceptions being pregnant women, being sucked through a time warp back to medieval times and trying to explain electricity but not actually knowing how it works, and velvet leggings

-Jeremy is the best with a rifle and thought about joining the army as a sniper but didn’t have any interest in the culture and kind of wanted to start over with something different. Jamie is also a decent shot but tends to post up in trees to shoot pigeons or shit that Ricky and Seth throw up in the air and then gets stuck in the tree. Nobody is particularly actively pro-guns but it’s always just been part of life in Birmingham, which Seth doesn’t quite realise until he gets to Palmetto. Specifically after meeting New Yorker Matt Boyd, who always looks vaguely horrified when Seth mentions shooting hay bales for fun or the guys from his high school with assault rifles slung over their shoulders in prom pictures. Matt Boyd, who comes in to the dorm one day yelling that some crazy guy is outside with a gun and Seth sticks his head out the window to have a look and tells Matt that’s a Springfield 67C and it’s so dogshit the only way the guy’s doing any damage with it is if he beats them with the barrel, then tells the guy as much out of the window

-Jamie Jessie and Seth all have matching scars from trying to pierce their ears. Jamie’s got infected as fuck, likely not helped by Ricky pouring Tabitha’s premixed can of passion fruit martini all over it (logic being that alcohol would clean it out- sure, but fruit juice isn’t too good for it), and Jessie’s closed over so she re-pierced it but missed a bunch of times so now she has multiple earlobe piercings and wears little stars in all of them. Seth’s just bled a lot. Like a lot a lot. But he mentioned getting painkillers from the doctor and Jessie looked at him like he’d shot her, so for her sake he firmed it and for a good few months there he thought he was clean for good.

that’s all i’ve found for loose scraps of Gordon lore for now but i’m sure there’ll be more at some point

[metalfuzzwriting]

Headcanons: Amusement Park/Carnival First Date

141 & König with reader

Requested on Discord

Price:

Mostly in it for walking around and holding hands.

He absolutely loves the Ferris Wheel and sits next to you with his hand rubbing your leg.

Probably tries to sneak a smooch in when you get stuck on the top of the ride.

He'll probably take you home after a few hours, but detour and find a quiet hideaway spot that overlooks the area and/or park.

Pulls out a blanket and snacks and you both sit there for a few more hours just chatting and laughing with each other.

Drives you back home and ends the night with a kiss on your cheek.

Gaz:

He's super sweet about asking you put to the amusement park in the first place.

He isn't sure if it was a good idea, with it being a bit stereotypical, but he stuck with it.

He's in it for the fun and the laughs and ends up having the most fun he's had for a while.

If there's some sort of love tunnel-like ride, that's his final ride of the evening.

He sneaks his hand into yours when the darkness covers the both of you, leaning into you.

You both whisper into the dark, speaking to each other, to not break the spell the atmosphere settled into.

He walks you home with an arm around your shoulders with his coat draped over them and ends the night with a tight hug and a promise for another date.

Ghost:

It was a spur-of-a-moment decision and probably googled what to do on the first date as soon as he asked you out.

He doesn't do dates and doesn't do a lot of social things besides what he deems required of himself, so asking you out was a complete accident.

He doesn't regret asking you out, and more or less is surprised he managed to build the courage in that dark and gloomy pub.

There were people everywhere at the amusement park, however Ghost had managed to choose a time where the crowd was significantly lighter in density.

You were a bit startled to find out Ghost had decided to wear a simple medical mask rather than a balaclava, but you couldn't deny he was handsome either way.

Ghost stuck to the rides that didn't have long lines, some of which kind of sucked, but spending the time together was what mattered.

Soap:

Thinks the idea of an amusement park date is "originial" and "unique" despite it being a pretty popular choice.

The entire date is a game of keeping up with him, one ride to the next to the next.

He's obsessed with the rollar coasters, convincing you to join him on some of the scariest coasters you've ever seen in your life that makes you regret saying yes - but you have fun regardless.

Once you both tire of the rides, Soap takes you to enjoy the food of the park- introducing you to some of the most sketchiest places to eat you've seen.

Soap swears by these places despite having never been to this park before.

He takes you back home and awkwardly tries to give you a kiss, you laugh and give him a better one.

Soap probably ends up with food poisoning.

König:

It was your idea to go to the amusement park, a new ride had opened up and you really wanted to go.

König was a bit nervous about it, he wasn't much for amusement parks, but for you he wanted to give it a shot.

He put up with all the noises and excitement for your sake, to see you smiling and happy.

He really loved it when you finally got through the line for the new ride, your face lit up as you drug him to the gate to get a seat.

Later on, after the ride, König had to rub your back and made sure so hair was in the way as you leaned over a nearby trashcan.

The ride was fun, but you wouldn't be going back, König agreeing with you as he was a tad bit sick himself.

The walk back, both of you deciding to forgo eating anything in the moment, was relaxing and you learned quite a bit about the gentle giant.

Despite the date being less than favorable, you both agreed you'd gladly like to go on another... maybe something a bit less nausea inducing.

[ghcstao3]

retirement gives ghost and soap the chance to do the things they never got to as teens—ghost, because of his home life, and soap, because he spent so much time trying to worm his way into the army.

it’s mostly things like childish sort of dates like something as mundane as sitting at a park or going to get ice cream, or sneaking kisses like they can’t be caught and linking pinkies instead of holding hands.

but it’s also dumb things they definitely shouldn’t be doing, that are 110% illegal, like trespassing in train yards to paint graffiti on freights, or what they’re currently doing—sneaking into the local indoor skating rink after hours.

they have experience with stealth and infiltration, after all.

but it’s all because ghost had mentioned offhand how he never learned how to ice skate, and soap figured he wouldn’t want to learn while other people are around. so, here they are.

in a building so old it was all too easy to get in—the place never had security cameras to begin with, and every owner since seemed too cheap to get them installed. really, it’s just an invitation.

soap spends all night teaching ghost. he’ll glide backwards as he holds ghost’s hands for balance because they couldn’t find the skating trainers, and when ghost finally gets the hang of it, soap skates laps around him just to tease. he gets his karma when his toe catches a blemish in the rink and he tumbles backward—only then for ghost to laugh so hard he loses his balance and slips, too.

it’s stupid, but—it makes them feel young again. free from the military, there’s no reason to limit themselves in the things they do together, even if it’s something as simple as learning to skate in the wee hours.

even if it’s something as simple as just spending time together, no matter where they are.

[babygirl-riley]

I heard there is an unwritten rule in military that no pda in the camp. So when y/n visits Ghost and tried to hug or hold his hand, they got denied and they're confused as fuck 😂

Uh…

You have been dating Simon for only 6 months, when Simon said that you can come on base. He wasn’t acting the same.

A/N: Oh man that would be a wild situation 🤭 Little angsty but it has a happy ending.

PSA: This doesn’t happen on bases however it will be done 🖤 Just because it has been requested it shall be done 🖤

“It’s like you can read my mind. Cause you get the message somehow.”

simon x reader guide

simon x reader fluff/angst

You were nervous yet excited about seeing Simon and meeting the team. You and Simon have been dating for a year now, when Price brought up that you should come on base since they were celebrating Price’s birthday. Simon was at first hesitant only cause he as usual just nervous for you to meet people that he worked with because of his line of work.

When Simon came back from an assignment he was eating dinner you made. It was silent, comfortable silence as he kept looking at you. You blushed and giggled. “Simon you can take a picture it last longer babe.”

Simon chuckled and inhaled deeply, which made you have your full attention. He shook his head then looked down at the food. “Come to base tomorrow. Price’s birthday.”

You went silent for a moment before nodding your head. “You sure?”

Simon nodded as he continued to eat. You smiled and nodded as well finishing up your food. You could tell he was nervous just by how his eyes told the story. His leg bouncing after you accepted. Him not looking at you for a moment. You understood after he explained why he didn’t want you to meet his friends. His comrades.

After being accepted i’m coming through the base. You tapped the steering wheel being guided to the guest parking. You adjusted the lanyard that labeled ‘Guest’ on the front. Going through security was easy as you looked up Simon stood at the end. Wearing his known balaclava, you smiled as you walked up to him about to hug him.

He turned to the side and placed his hand between your shoulders. At first you felt a ping in your chest before brushing it off. “Hello baby,” He said softly as he guided you to the sound of a small party. “Glad ya hear.”

You nodded and smiled up at him about to grab his hand before you heard a scottish man. “Lass!”

You looked up to see a mohawk man walk his way towards the both of you. “Lass?” You whispered as Simon nodded once.

“It’s you.” He mumbled a bit before the man tapped Simon’s shoulder a couple of times.

The man looked down at you then Simon then you. “Jus’ a nickname for all our favorite women. Right Lt?” He chuckled tapping his shoulder again.

Simon hummed and you looked at the man smiling. “Favorites huh? Don’t even know your name and already the favorite.” You laughed.

Soap chuckled and nodded. “Lt talks about ya here and there.”

You smiled at him as he looked down at you. Oh he was red, you could tell by how he looked away then forward. “Better get to the party yeah?” Simon said walking forward.

Soap was the name of the man, he talked to you and asked questions like how long have you and Simon been together? Will you get married? Children? What’s your favorite color? The normal things. It eased your nerves once you stepped into the room.

Soap introduced you to Gaz and the birthday man himself, Price. They were all so kind and generous, introducing yourself to their girlfriends/wives. The night was fun, you would try to grab ahold of Simon but he would gently take you off or move on. It really got you when you tried to hold his pinkie, you knew he hated PDA but would do at least that. Instead he moved his drink to that hand.

It confused you more and more and angered you until you were able to get him alone try to build up the courage to ask him. “It’s a good party.” You said as you stood next to him. You couldn’t it wasn’t the place you kept thinking so you let it go.

“It is, thank you for comin’ love.” He said looking over the party.

You chewed the inside of your cheek. “Of course anytime.” Simon noticed your nervousness. He noticed the eye glances in the room. Just confused on what he did or what happened.

You and him knew this wasn’t the place. Not right now. It wasn’t until Simon told you that he would meet you at home. You stood quietly as you nodded and got into your SUV. Shit. He forgot to mention about the no touch policy on base. The wives and girlfriends knew of course but he blanked on telling you.

So when he got home with you crying in the bathroom quietly he knocked softly. “Lovie?”

“Yes?” You asked sounding like you were fixing yourself up.

“Wanna take a shower?” Simon tapped his foot nervously.

“No.” You said quickly before fiddling with the door and pushing past him. “I am going to bed.”

Simon watched as you ripped your clothes off and skimming through your dresser. Putting on a long shirt (that was his) and sitting on your side of bed. Grabbing lotion and lathering your legs. He stood there for a moment before going around the bed to your side.

“Love,” He whispered as you avoided his stare. He smirked before grabbing your chin. “Baby,” You looked up at him with puffy red eyes. His heart broke as you looked down again. “‘M sorry I forgot to tell ya about the no PDA on base.”

You glared with confusion and looked at him. “What do you mean?”

Simon sat next to you putting his hand on your leg. “Yeah, the bastard on that base is very hard on it. We were barely were able ‘bout havin’ a get together.”

You sniffed as you sighed. “I did notice that Price’s wife wasn’t even near him at times even then.”

Simon nodded as he rubbed his thumb up and down. “Sorry.”

“No you aren’t into a PDA anyways. Just missed you.” You whispered as a smile formed on your face.

Simon chuckled as he kissed your forehead. “I did too lovie,” You both kissed before he sighed. “Wanna shower now?”

You chuckled. “Yeah.”

[indigosunsetao3]

for the GIF ask game! you can pick any character you see fit !

I just want you to know that watching men drive stick shift is in my top eight (dating myself here) of favorite things. So thank you for this.

Drinks and dinner were always a good time, even if you regretted agreeing to go when the day arrived. You knew you needed some time out of the house after being in the monotonous routine of work, home, a quick dinner and trashy television before bed for the past month. That's what happened when John was deployed, a stagnant routine counting down the days until his return. You were used to it after all this time but you could feel the melancholy sinking in, the rainy season not helping either.

You had sent John a quick message, not sure if he'd even get it, that you were going out with friends. Sometimes he could have his phone, others it was radio silent for days. It had been a stint of silence for about a week this time so you weren't expecting an answer. But as you applied your lipstick a message came back asking where you were going.

It was a surprise and you grin telling him about the plans for some sort of bar crawl. One of the girls in the group was newly single so it was an attempt to cheer her up and maybe find a bloke to take her home. All in good fun. After sending John a picture of your outfit you head out to meet your friend that was picking you up.

Despite being with your friends you keep your phone glued to your hand, texting John any moment you could. After being silent for so long you weren't about to pass up some time just talking. You send him pictures of what you are up to, what drinks you were having, laugh about a guy attempting (and failing) to chat up your single friends.

John answers each one without fail, even going as far as sending you a picture of his current company. Soap passed out on his bunk with his arm hanging off the edge and mouth wide open snoring. A scene you have seen multiple times before but still made you laugh anyway.

After a bit of silence, thinking he may have finally fallen asleep, another message comes through.

Where are you headed now? That little club off Lisle street with the weird name. They want to walk because parking is atrocious. My feet are on fire, shouldn't have worn heels. I'm about to tell them to go without me. Go on. Don't want them to hound you for being an old maid. But I am an old maid.

You grin and stick your phone back into your purse before making the long trek to the next place. It's drizzling and you are lamenting the idea of having to walk all the way back to the car when you were done. It was already past midnight and your warm bed was calling to you. But you smile and continue on with the group, telling yourself it's just one night.

Staking out one of the only tables left you tell the rest of the group you'll hold the spot while they all go to dance. Your feet can't take one more step. And while you're contemplating how rude it would be to just take your shoes off and hide your feet under the table for a bit a waiter walks over with a drink you haven't ordered.

"Oh, no I think you've got the wrong table," you answer with a grin, stretching back up from where you were about to undo your heel straps; you had decided to just risk it and give your feet a five minute break.

"Are you sure?" The waiter asks as they turn to look over at the bar before back to you, "he was insistent to send it to you. Said he knew you and seemed genuine."

You look at the drink the waiter has set down. It was certainly your drink, your favorite drink as a matter of fact, down to the extra cherry and no orange garnish. Who on Earth had sent that? Your friends were still on the dance floor. You sweep your eyes back over to the bar to the man the waiter is looking toward and you spot him.

John is standing at the bar.

He's leaning oh so casually against the wood top with his hip as if he had been there for hours. He's grinning at you knowingly as his eyes bore into yours, swirling his own plain whiskey on ice as he does.

He looks delicious standing there. Freshly trimmed beard and a haircut from what you can see. His skin a little tanner than when he had left, having spent time out in the sun on this deployment. But that's not what really catches your eye. It's the clothes. He knows exactly what he's doing wearing a crisp white button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up his forearms and the top button undone; just as you liked. A large watch, one you had gifted him, sitting perfectly on his left wrist to match the gleaming wedding band.

"Ma'am?" The waiter asks a bit uncertain as they stood there watching the stare down. "Do you need me to-"

"It's mine," you answer suddenly, swiping the drink and taking a sip, "no worries." You don't look at them as you slip from the seat and wince only slightly at the pain in your feet. You know, vaguely, that it's rude to just ignore the waiter like this but you can't help it. John's eyes keep your focus completely locked on him and you move across the bar without hesitation to him. Your job of holding the table for your friends long forgotten.

"When did you get here?" You ask as you walk up to the small space John had left for you at the bar. "You should have told me you were coming back! I would have stayed home," you babble setting your drink down before grabbing at him.

"I wanted to surprise you," John answers simply as he sets his drink down and reaches out his hand to grab you gently by the upper arm to pull you closer. You can smell his soap and cologne as he tugs you close and you grin as his other hand tilts your head up to look at him better, holding your face lightly as he does. "And I didn't want you having to walk all the way back to the car in those dangerously high heels." He smirks.

"Well, it worked," you breathe out as you watch him before pushing up the few centimeters left on your toes to kiss him. You can taste the cigar he had smoked on the way to the bar, as well as the tang of whiskey on his lips.

You don't care if it's indecent as you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him that much closer, sighing into his mouth as his hands find your sides to hold you. His fingers are gentle in their hold, but you can feel the possessive air he gives off as his thumbs pass over your hipbones.

"Your friends are looking for you," John says after a second as you pull away deciding to not give the bar a whole show, though you know John could care less. He would let the whole world see just how you belonged to him if you told him to.

Turning your head around a bit, hands never leaving John's neck, you spot them at the vacated table looking around. You grin a bit, leaning your cheek on John's chest as he raises a single hand to wave and catch your best friend's attention when she spots him. The look of shock on her face was comical but she just nods and grabs one of your more drunk friends dragging them back from coming over to say hello. She knows exactly where this is going and being the best wingwoman she wasn't going to let anything interfere.

"Take me home?"

"Whatever you want love. We can stay with your friends if you'd like," John says. You know he's just being polite, and considerate, giving that offer because he already knows your answer.

"I'd rather be with you," you answer reaching out to grab the drink he had ordered for you and down it in a few sips.

He chuckles in response finishing his own whiskey before setting down a fifty pound note from his wallet. Scooping up his suit jacket he sets it on your shoulders before digging his keys out of his pocket and leading you outside. He had brought his sporty little car, the one that sat in the garage and only came out for weekend drives or fancy dinners.

As soon as he helps you in you lean down and wrench off your heels, sighing a bit in relief as he climbs in on his side. He grins at you as he starts the car before throwing it into reverse. His hand comes up on the headrest behind you, his fingers caressing the back of your neck, as he backs out of the spot.

You grin a bit watching him drive. How he manipulates the wheel casually one handed as the other shifts each gear. You know he knows exactly what he's doing to you as he drives like this. How he smirks at you when he catches you blatantly watching him and laughs along with you as he finds a long open stretch of road and pushes the gas pedal to the floor quickly shifting through each gear.

"Sweetheart, you keep looking at me like that we aren't making it home," he says after a moment as he brings the car back down to legal limits.

“Maybe I don’t want to make it home," you state as you reach over and grab his hand. It had been a few years since you rode him in the driver's seat and you found yourself suddenly wanting to do just that.

He laces his fingers with yours and doesn't let go as he shifts again, letting you help him. Suddenly his eyes dart to the rearview mirror to check for cars before he abruptly changes lanes.

John bypasses the turn that would keep leading you home and instead takes a road that twists and turns down the countryside. He’s looking for the perfect spot that has no lights so no one can see you as he pins you between him and the steering wheel.

[curtis-corner]

STAND BY ME (Darry Curtis) - PART 5

Fic Masterlist HERE

This took a bit longer than I wanted, but I hope it's worth the wait! We're setting the scene a bit for future chapters. Thanks to everyone who shares this story and comments! Things are going to heat up!

Part 5

Dating Darry Curtis was like something out of a dream. You were so happy you almost felt like your mouth would permanently stay in a smile. You missed him like crazy when you weren’t with him, and when you were with him the two of you were inseparable.

If he wasn’t holding your hand, he had his arm around your shoulder. While you both didn’t do anything more than an innocent kiss on the cheek in public, when you were alone it was a whole different story.

Which is where you found yourself now: straddling his lap in the driver’s seat of his truck, parked way out on the outskirts of the city. Your hands are in his thick hair and you felt like you had been kissing him for hours. He had been running his hands up and down your stocking-clad thigh, stopping just shy of your skirt that was practically around your waist.

He shifted you, you moved back and landed right on the horn, sending a loud honk through the deserted area and starling you both.

“What the hell,” Darry said, his voice scratchy. You start to giggle, you can’t help it. “I guess I need to be getting you home soon anyway.” You rest your forehead head against his.

“Mm, do I have to go home?”

“Believe me baby, if I could spend the rest of the night right here, I would.” A thrill runs through you.

“I like that. Baby.” You clarify and his lifts his lips to yours for a kiss that’s over long before you want it to be. You climb off his lap, trying not to look too foolish as you move to the passenger seat. When you get settled, Darry reaches his hand across the seat and holds yours. He drives with his left hand, maneuvering the truck easily back to the east side and you wonder if it’ll always feel like this.

--

Mr. Murphy had started Murphy’s general store with his late wife back in 1924. You had never met Mrs. Murphy – she died over ten years ago, and his only son died in the second world war, so the store was pretty much all he had. He was a kind and fair boss, but he took a bit to come around to more modern convivences.

“I’m just sayin’, that’s the third person this month to ask about puttin’ their bill on a credit card.” Sheila says and Mr. Murphy waves her off.

“If people can’t buy it with the cash they got, they shouldn’t be buying it.” It was a long-standing argument that you tried not to get in the middle of. Mr. Murphy was in the store today to review and place the weekly order, and he had you help him look everything over.

“The laundromat downtown said they are getting a credit card machine next year.”

“They’re just saying that, ain’t no one is going to ever put their laundry on a dang credit card.”

“With prices all going up, a credit card will be the only option.” Sheila warns and you bite your lip to keep from laughing at the expression on Mr. Murphy’s face. Sheila and Mr. Murphy didn’t often work at the same time, but when they did you were always entertained.

“We need three cases of dish soap, not two,” you point to his sheet and he erases the number two and writes a three. The door jingles and Darry walks in, brushing some snow out of his hair.

“Well, look at what we have here!” Mr. Murphy exclaims, and you feel a blush rising. Mr. Murphy took far too much delight into you dating Darry.

“He’s a good boy, you should say yes when he proposes.”

“We’ve been dating TWO weeks!”

“I proposed to my wife after two weeks. Ain’t no use in waiting, you’re just wasting time.”

“Mr. Murphy,” Darry shakes his hand. He turns to you and smiles. “Hi there.”

“Hi yourself. You’re off early today?”

“Snow is making it too slippery to be on the roofs.” You glance out the front window to see the flurries from lunchtime have turned into a true snow. “I’m on my way to pick up Ponyboy from school, but I figured I’d duck in and say hello.”

“You remind me of me at your age, could never miss an opportunity to see my girl. Five minutes with her had me smiling all day,” Mr. Murphy’s eyes are bright behind his glasses and you have the sudden urge to fight back tears. You shared a soft smile with Darry and saw Sheila rolling her eyes up at the register. You guess not everyone was a romantic.

“What are you working on?” Darry asks, glancing down at the papers spread across the countertop.

“Weekly order.” Mr. Murphy says. “Your brother alone is the reason for more legal pads.” Darry and you share a smile. You both had nearly the same conversation the other day while you helped him make chicken pot pie.

“I don’t doubt it. Just hope he ain’t the reason for all the extra beer too,” Darry points at the list and Mr. Murphy lets out laugh and turns to you.

“You just talk all day about how handsome he is, you never mentioned how funny he is!” Your blush is back at Mr. Murphy’s antics.

“Is that so?” Darry is well aware he’s teasing you, but he can’t resist.

“Don’t you have a kid brother to collect?” You say, putting a hand on your hip.

“I suppose I do. And I’ll come pick you up after you after your shift too.” He gives you your favorite grin, the one that really shows off his dimples and heads out after saying goodbye to everyone, even Sheila.

“That boy looks at you like you’re Christmas morning.” Mr. Murphy says, still slightly teasing but his tone is softer.

“He’s pretty swell,” you smile, watching Darry wave one last time before his truck heads out.

“You’re pretty swell too.” Mr. Murphy pats your hand twice, then returns to the order.

The warm feeling that had settled in you the past few weeks grows a little stronger.

--

When you get home, a man you’ve never seen is at your kitchen table, and your mother’s small collection of jewelry is spread out in front of him.

Your father introduces him as a jeweler from downtown, but the man doesn’t look too much older than you and is dressed in a leather jacket and jeans instead of a suit and tie you’d expect from a professional.

“That brooch was Grammy Sue’s,” you point to a brooch in the shape of a swan. As a child you were fascinated with it, always asking your grandmother if you could feel it. She had promised you that you could have it one day.

“And she’s dead, so now it’s not.” Your father spat out and you physically recoiled. You had never heard such venom in his voice. “Go find that old bracelet of your mother’s, she said those were genuine pearls.”

You feel your stomach drop, you loved that bracelet. You wore it whenever you got dressed up, it was a beautiful and delicate bracelet your mother had received from her aunt when she was younger. You knew exactly where it was – in the top drawer of your vanity. But you blurt out:

“I lost it.”

“You what?” Your father stands up from his chair and your stomach tightened again. He had never been physical with you before, but he had also never been so desperate for gambling money that he sold off jewelry before.

“I-I lost it. At Easter mass last year.” You hope he doesn’t remember how you wore it for your first date with Darry only a few weeks ago. He doesn’t seem to: instead he spends a good few minutes yelling at you before banishing you to your room.

You have tears in your eyes as you take the bracelet from it’s hiding spot and put it in the shoebox at the back of your closet with your California money. You tried not to spend your life waiting for ‘someday’ but you couldn’t help but wish for the day when you were out of this house. When the person who greeted you when you walked in the door wasn’t passed out drunk or scrambling for money.

You wanted a house full of love, with the radio on and people laughing and singing along to the best songs. With something good cooking in the kitchen and cookies in the jar. And someone to greet you and always be happy to see you.

You know it’s too soon to be thinking these thoughts and picturing Darry in every one of them, but you let yourself have a few moments to think about what it could be like.

--

Talking to Darry on the phone each night was one of your favorite things. Whether it was a few minutes to say goodnight, or an hour when you talk about all sorts of things, his low, deep voice would soothe you.

You listen to him talk about Soda and Steve’s run in at the diner with two other greasers, and about Ponyboy’s trouble with styling his shorter hair.

“You alright baby?” He asks and you realize he must have asked you a question that you never responded to.

“Shoot, I’m sorry. I’m alright…” You trail off, not knowing how to begin.

“You know you can tell me about it. Whatever is bothering you, I mean.” And even though you can’t see him, you can perfectly picture the look on his face. And you know you can trust him with this.

“When I got off my shift there was a man at the house. My dad was selling my mama’s old jewelry that she had left. I guess it’s just not sitting right with me. The guy seemed…strange.”

“Strange how?”

“Like he certainly wasn’t from any reputable jewelry store. And my dad got so angry when I told him I didn’t have my mama’s old pearl bracelet.” You sigh. “Even though…I do have it. I don’t try to make a habit of lying, but I just saw all her things, some of the only things we got left from her, on the table and ready to be gone for good and I….I just couldn’t let him sell that too.”

“I think that’s okay.” Darry says softly. “It doesn’t make you a bad person.”

“I spent all night feeling bad about it. Maybe he could have used the extra money instead of me holding on to an old bracelet from a woman who probably ain’t ever coming back.” You let out a breath and twist the phone cord around your index finger. “Sorry. You shouldn’t have to listen to all this, it’s silly.”

“It ain’t silly.” Darry says firmly. “If something upsets you, I wanna hear about it.” You smile.

“Thanks, sweetheart.” You say softly and you know at the other end of the phone Darry is smiling. He always does when you use a term of endearment with him.

“He didn’t do anything to hurt you right? Your dad?”

“No, he just yelled. I stayed in my room and he left not long after the other man did.”

“You know my front door is always open. Doesn’t matter the time.” He’s told you this before, he never likes dropping you off at an empty house. And you think for a split second about your daydream of a warm home that was full of love.

“I know.” You say quietly and you take a deep breath, wanting to steer the conversation away from your troubles. “Alright, tell me more about how we’re going to get Pony’s hair to grow faster.”

NEXT UP: Darry's birthday and a tough anniversary for the curtis boys

[whatsa-bi-as]

forever kiss

GN!reader x BFF!Park Jisung

Genre; fluff, best friends to lovers to be more specific

warnings; swear words, Jisung is implied to be taller than the reader. Let me know if i've missed any :)

word count; 0.8k

networks; @kflixnet and @k-labels

A/N; proofread by the lovely @hyuukais they made me giggle so definitely go check them out

masterlist is here if you want to read on :)

It was no secret that you had fallen for your best friend. It was painfully obvious to everyone around you apart from your oblivious best friend.

Now, Jisung isn’t stupid by any means but it would have to be a cold day in hell if he was to be even the least bit observant. No matter what you said, how much touchier you’d become, he was completely blind to any subtle advances that you made.

Despite how close you and Jisung were, you thought that a new perspective would help. When releasing your frustrations to Chenle, all the boy could do was laugh. 

“Look, I love him but Jisung is stupid when it comes to anything about relationships. You could make out with him and he still wouldn’t realise that you liked him.”

It was a truth that you had known but refused to admit to yourself. Jisung wasn’t new to the idea of relationships by any means; he’s had girlfriends and talking stages, but it always took the other person to make the first move. You never really understood why. He was funny and drop dead gorgeous, so why he couldn’t make the first move was something that completely baffled you. 

It was a week after that conversation with Chenle when you decided to throw caution to the wind and just make a move that would leave no doubt that you had a fat crush on the boy. The regular routine was taking place, you had cooked, he was washing up. You were sitting on the counter filling him in on the week's gossip as he had his hands soaked in soap and hot water. It was a comfortable routine, but you wanted more.

As he dried his hands you pulled him close so your head was against his back and your hands were wrapped around his waist. He leaned into it, lessening the height difference allowing your head to rest in the crook of his neck rather than against his back. It was a moment that felt so intimate that it made your heart race. 

Taking the chance you just said fuck it and decided to voice the thoughts that had been racing through your mind for the past months. 

“Ji have you ever thought about us being something more? Cause like I do and I would really like the idea of us dating and holding hands and doing all that mushy stuff that couples do. And no matter what, when I think about doing that, you’re the only person I can picture doing it with.”

When he doesn’t respond you keep going. Feeling the need to fill the silence as you let your words sink in.

“I like you, like a whole lot. I feel so stupid sometimes because all I can think of is you. I think about what it would be like to kiss you, what it would be like to hold your hand as your partner not your friend, what dates would we go on. I think about it all and I might regret saying this but I don’t think I can hold it in anymore because I like you so much it’s like my heart hurts everytime i see you smile or do anything basically.”

The silence that follows your words is deafening. Fearing the worst you start to move away but he places his hands on yours keeping them around his waist.

“I like you a whole lot too. I mean I think of the same things everytime I see you wearing my hoodies or when I get home from practice and you’re sitting on the sofa ready to ask me about my day. I smile everytime you text me, god, I smile even when I just think about you. I guess what I mean to say is that the only thing I really think about is us being more than just friends. I’ve just always been too scared to say anything because I’d rather have you in my life as my friend than lose you because you didn’t feel the same.”

Turning around in your arms he looks you dead in the eyes.

“I would love to be more. I would love to take you out on dates and hold your hand and do all that mushy stuff that couples do. I like you so damn much I don’t really know how to put it into words.”

Not knowing how to respond, you just looked at him. The boy of your dreams had just told you that he felt the same about you. He liked you! And you’re sitting there silent? So you decided to keep going with what felt right.

“Ji, can I kiss you?”

“All you had to do was ask.” he replied.

Leaning down to capture his lips against yours it felt as though it was meant to be. His lips were soft and fit perfectly against yours, but, not wanting to start anything in the middle of the kitchen, you broke away.

Your foreheads pressed together, slightly out of breath, smiling so wide both of your faces began to hurt, you realised that the boy in front of you was yours. He was yours and you were his. Just you two together against the world. 

[rubra-wav]

hi there! i’m not sure if you write poly requests, but if you do could i request some angel dust x transmasc reader x lucifer fluff headcanons?

A/N I've never written poly and I took a lotta liberties so I'm sorry if this isn't that great- 🙏

Also me when I get a transmasc reader request <3

Tags: SFW, transmasc!reader, fluff fluff fluff

Angel Dust

- You would have gotten with Angel first; you coming to the hotel with the promise of free living and quickly falling for the spider demon.

- It took a while to break through Angel's walls, but after proving yourself as trustworthy and becoming friends - he quickly fell for you right back.

- The confession came from Angel one day after he came home from work, and you two were cuddling on his bed while watching a comically terrible soap opera.

- No bright lights or large displays, just cozy normality.

- This, Angel found far more suited to genuine love considering his line of work.

- You, of course, reciprocated. Eternally joyous that he felt the same way.

- When you both meet Lucifer and eventually you start to become fairly close to the king, Angel light-heartedly points out that you are attracted to Lucifer before you even realise it yourself.

- He was, of course, correct.

- You feared that Angel may be jealous but he wasn't at all really. He knew you two were very happy as is, and he isn't insecure at all that Lucifer might be a 'threat' to your relationship.

- He's never been in a poly relationship (in the official sense at least), but he'd be encouraging you to go pursue Lucifer as well if you thought it'd make you even happier; also joking that it'd "ego boost the fuck out of him to be holding your hand while the other is held by the literal king of hell".

- You take him up on that when it's obvious he wouldn't be offended by it.

Lucifer

- He falls head first very, very quickly for you.

- You're very kind as far as sinners go, and when he's sure you aren't just trying to manipulate him due to his status?

- He melts for you, and as he starts living in the hotel as well, this becomes more and more apparent.

- You would propose being together, however, he'd be conflicted about it.

- He would like to be together, but in the beginning he would be opposed to being non-monogomous with you.

- Please forgive the old man. His heart is in the right place, but good God would be insecure with the idea of being the 'least favourite' in a poly relationship.

- He would also probably be a bit butthurt that you wanted him to be with you as well as Angel. He is the sin of pride after all. This belief slowly would dissipate however the better he got to know Angel too.

- He comes around to the idea when you and Angel reassure him that that wouldn't be how things would be going, and that the two of them would absolutely be equally important in the relationship to you.

- Ends up quickly enjoying it. You three work surprisingly well in a relationship.

- You all came to an agreement eventually on spending some time all-together as well as apart so they both have some one on one time with you.

- Jealousy would potentially be a problem at times, but you'd all work through any issues fairly quickly, priding communication above everything.

- Your favourite group dates would mostly be ones away from the public eye - unfortunately, the press would have an absolute field day with you and onlookers would not stop gawking at the sight of Angel and Lucifer being your arm candy.

- Don't get me wrong, it is fun going to places like Lu Lu World together when the park is rented out for the day for just the three, however it's rather eerie at times and there are always people lurking outside trying to catch you and them.

- Your dates in like playing games, watching movies and making things together are always incredibly fun.

- You all particularly love ending your dates with the three of you curling up together, you sandwiched between the two of them as they jokingly fight for who gets to spoon you and who gets to pull you against their chest.

- Usually you end up on your back with two very cilngy men squishing against you, cuddling into either side of you.

- The next morning you then will have to fight to get up because neither one of them will want to leave that position for even a second.

Extra point:

- Angel would help out Lucifer in acting properly around you being trans. Luci would absolutely be supportive, but he would likely be a bit uneducated, unlike Angel who's very attuned to the changing times. (Luci is the definition of 'he's a little confused but has the right spirit'.)

- Both of them would also go guns blazing if you needed any medical care like HRT or surgeries at all. Lucifer would be able to get you just about anything you needed with his scary dog privilege.

[fakescenariosbeforesleepblog]

Happy Valentine's day (Y/N) 1.

(Y/N) × Pick your favorite character.

You're not a huge fan of festivities, especially Valentine's day, but your best friend is more than ready to make you change your mind and maybe he's also ready to confess to you something you have been waiting for so long.

Warning: grammatical errors, maybe bad short stories.

📢 Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

SOAP.

He arrived one day before valentine's, just in time to bomb you with a thousand questions about the guy you dated in his absence.

- So you left the « situationship » in the air?

- Yeah, at this point I think he gets that I'm not interested anymore.

- thank God...

He murmured.

- Huh? did you say something?

- What? No, no. I'm glad you opened your eyes! He's not good enough for you Y/N

You laughed loudly, he loves the sound of your laugh, the melody he would certainly love to hear on repeat.

- Alright, so now that you're here... How would we celebrate? We can't do much with all these idiots in love though...

- You're so anti- cupid, but luckily I already have a plan, a very unusual but cool plan, something you've been asking me to teach you.

This malicious smirk, you love it so much, calm down Y/N he's your friend, keep dreaming.

- Oh really? That's why we are in a parking lot?

- it's not any parking lot, it's the parking lot of a huge shooting range, I reserved all the place for us, not an easy task but I didn't want you to hurt the rest of the people in the place... OUCH! OUCH! You hit like a girl! STOP!

You hit him, because he's annoying but also because you were excited, you've been wanting this so badly and he remembered it, he's the best, oh! he makes it hard to try to not catch feelings for him.

The shooting range was the best idea, Jhonny is sure of it, he's nervous but not for teaching you to shoot, he's nervous because he wants to confess his feelings for you.

Surprisingly you're a good shooter, he can't believe it, you're amazing in everything you do, it's time. He never had been more scared in his life but here he goes.

He caught your attention moving his hands, letting you know he would go to the car to pick some bottles of water, you nodded and continued, he came back but not with water, in exchange, he was holding a huge bunch of Peonies, your favorite flower and a McDonald's happy meal.

- Oh my god!... What's the meaning of all this? I can't believe it Jhonny... Oh god this is... W... why?

- Y/N, You... Are my best friend, we know each other since we're teenagers and all this time helped me to realize... You're the only person I want to spend the rest of my life with, so... Tell me now Y/N would... Would you be my valentine? Not only for today but... Forever?

You're speechless, there's no words, you can't believe what is happening and Johnny is getting impatient and anxious, he thinks he messed up.

- Y/N? Are you... Alright? If you think I messed up just tell me... We will pretend this never happened...

- Jhonny... I... You... You know I hate valentine's day well not anymore... Since everything I've always wanted is actually happening... Yes, yes I want to be your silly little valentine!

You jumped to him and kissed him, oh god you wanted this for a long, long time and it's better than you imagined it... You don't have a clue right now but Valentine's day will be your favorite festivity In the future.

GAZ.

You met Kyle in a very scary situation, you were a hostage in a store, he came in with some other guys but he was the one who saved you and the rest of the people around, you gave him information about what happened, the rest is story, you and him became good friends, your family adores him, your friends approve him too, and everybody feels the romantic tension between you, seriously everyone except him, or at least that's what you believed.

- Happy Valentine's day Y/N!!!!

- come on Garrick, you know I hate this day, get inside!

- I know, I'm just joking, what will we do?

- it's a movie night, we will watch movies, duh!

- okay, I'll pick the movie...

- Not an action movie, please! Something more interesting!!! I'll take a quick shower while you pick the movie!!!!

- alright, take your time... Stinky!

This is the perfect opportunity, he ran to his car and brought all the stuff he bought for you, a new pajama pants, he knows how much you love to wear comfortable clothes, he also bought a nice necklace with some Swarovski crystals, he thinks you have a beautiful neck and the necklace is a perfect match, bought your favorite food and beer, you're not a champagne or wine person, you hate fancy drinks.

He turned the lights off, when you came out of the shower everything was dark, is there any electric problem? Where's Gaz? You walked to the restroom just to check what was going on.

- Kyle? What happened with the lights? Don't try to scare me...

Suddenly, the lights in the room turned on, you saw all the presents on the coffee table, it was beautiful, and then, the tv turned on, a long video of you, Kyle recorded all the time, now you finally can see why he always did that. There you are, doing funny faces, looking pretty, eating cake at your dad's birthday, dancing, running, insulting, enjoying a huge cheeseburger. It took you a while to notice it but Kyle is standing at your side and with an arm around your shoulder, he whispers.

- no matter the angle, the moment, the weather, your mood, you're beautiful to me, you're my person Y/N, you're the person it makes me want to come back home as soon as possible... I know you don't like this day, but would you concede me the honor of being my valentine?

The shivers ran to your skin, are those tears? You looked at him, there's this spark in your eyes, his staring at every detail on your face, he knows your answer even when you're not saying nothing, it's clearly a 'Yes', a hug and a lot of kisses on your face and lips, Happy Valentine's day dear Y/N.

[mjonthetrack]

vice queen

CHAPTER 75 “This Is a Serious Inquisition, Sir”

Jimmy had sat on the couch like a man clinging to the last thread of his sanity. He hadn’t moved since she started her home tour. His jaw was clenched. His temple vein was back. His shirt sleeve looked like it was considering busting open in protest.

Then came Camille. Strutting back into the living room with the same energy as a CEO about to fire everyone but prettier and with better nails.

She planted herself right back on his spot on the couch—yes, again—and tapped her pen to her glittery little notepad.

Click. Click.

She tucked one leg under the other, pen to page, cheek puffed like she was concentrating real hard.

“Aight so a few more questions,” she said like she wasn’t holding this man’s life in her manicured hand.

Jimmy blinked slow. “You still not answering, Vice?”

“Shhh.” She silenced him with a single manicured finger in his direction. “This part important.”

She cleared her throat.

“One, are we getting real plants in here? ‘Cause the plastic ones give trailer park chic, and I’m not about that. Two, how do you feel about fur rugs and automatic blinds?”

She glanced up for half a second. Jimmy opened his mouth. She already wrote something before he could even answer.

“Three, what’s up with that soap placement in the bathroom? I’m tryna vibe, not feel like I’m in a hospital. And four, will you be taking me on a home shopping run upon agreement if I choose to?”

Jimmy opened his mouth again.

“Shhh. This a list. We doing one go.”

She flipped the page. He deadass looked like he was gonna combust but she just kept going.

“Where Ghost gone sleep at? You did buy me a cane corso and that is my emotional support killer, so like… his dog bed gotta match the theme.”

She didn’t wait for a response. Just squinted.

“Also, why you feel that black in the bathroom was an acceptable choice? Felt like a modern haunted house in there. We cook in here or is it just eating out? You still gonna take me on dates or you think this lil situation means I’m stuck like a house roach? Oh—and we getting pedicures together, yes or no?”

Jimmy was blinking in slow-motion like he’d short-circuited.

She clicked her pen and jotted something with a lil “hmph.”

“Are you gonna teach me how to shoot? Because all I carry in my purse is money, gum, and girly shit, and it’s not giving Call of Duty babe right now.”

Another question. Another page turn.

“You want your name on me too? We getting matching chains like a thug couple? Like Bonnie and Clyde but luxury edition?”

She peered up with a devilish smirk. “How do you feel about handcuffs and blindfolds? Y’know… for activities.”

Jimmy choked on his own oxygen.

“Also—you don’t wear shoes in the house, do you? I walk around naked in mine, non-negotiable, so just throwing that out there.”

Click. More notes.

“What if I want a crazy pet like a boa constrictor and name it Raul?”

Jimmy was rubbing his temples now, silently.

“We gonna have each other’s passwords? That includes Instagram, TikTok, safe, bank stuff… Just sayin’. Also, what’s the safe word? We need one. I vote for something dramatic like ‘Hennessy’ or ‘FBI.’”

Jimmy was officially malfunctioning.

“Oh—what are your no-no’s? Like absolute do not do this shit or I’ll catch a case type stuff. Any allergies? And last one—maybe—who around me gotta go if we say yes? Don’t be shy, I know you hate people silently.”

She clicked her pen one last time. Tossed her hair over her shoulder like she just casually asked the weather, not fifty-seven deeply specific and outrageous questions.

Then?

She went silent.

Jimmy just stared at her, hands steepled, his whole brain buffering like a 2002 computer.

Camille leaned back against the couch, chewing on the cap of her pen, eyebrows up like, “Well?”

But she still didn’t answer.

Because this was her show. And he could sweat for just a little longer.

CHAPTER 76 “Vice, You Are My Villain Arc”

Jimmy exhaled. Deeply. The kind of breath you take before you walk into war or talk to your mother-in-law about politics.

Camille was sat there like she didn’t just ask a dissertation’s worth of questions. Glitter pen ready. Eyes blinking all slow, waiting for her answers like this was Shark Tank: Situationship Edition.

He rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed again, looking up at the ceiling like maybe God would beam him up.

“You done?”

She smiled.

He closed his eyes. “Cool. Here we go.”

He sat up a little, spreading his legs, elbows on his thighs like a man about to address the Supreme Court.

“Number one: yes. Real plants. Get whatever the fuck greenery you want—just don’t put ‘em near my damn cigar stash.”

Camille blinked. Noted it.

“Fur rugs? Sure. I don’t care if the floor feels like a baby seal, just not in the bathroom. Wet feet and fur? Nah. Automatic blinds? Yes. I was gonna do that anyway but now I’m scared of your feedback so I’m moving it up the list.”

She clicked her pen and nodded.

“The soap? Fix it. You right. I don’t care. Just don’t turn the bathroom into a damn Pinterest project.”

He rubbed his chest like he had heartburn. “And yes—I will take you on a home shopping run. Bring the damn glitter pen. Make a list. Add whatever you want.”

Camille was already scribbling.

“Ghost gets a custom bed. Whatever the fuck he needs. You could put him in the guest room, I don’t care, just don’t let him piss on my speakers again.”

She side-eyed him. He ignored it.

“The black in the bathroom? That shit was sleek. You tryna play me. I liked it. But if you want color, pick it. Just not pink. You do pink, I’m moving out.”

Camille smirked. “You not.”

He glared. “You right.”

He cleared his throat. “We cook and eat out. Depends on your mood. I can throw down in the kitchen too, don’t let the tats fool you.”

She raised a brow. He ignored it.

“And yes—I’m still taking you on dates. I ain’t no bum. You want oysters on a boat or tacos in a parking lot? Just say the word.”

Pause.

“Pedicures? If that’s what makes you happy, I’m there. Long as I don’t gotta get rhinestones or some shit.”

Camille didn’t even react—she was on question 12 already.

“I’ll teach you how to shoot. Tomorrow. No more pink glittery guns either, Vice. That shit not intimidating.”

She scribbled something.

“Do I want my name on you? Yeah. Top of the ass, under the titty, wherever. I don’t care—just mine. As for matching chains? Done. Gold or platinum? You pick.”

He scratched his jaw.

“Handcuffs and blindfolds? Vice, I literally picked you up off a strip club stage. Of course I’m down for all that.”

He watched her grin at that one.

“No shoes in the house. I don’t do that anyway. And if you wanna walk around naked? I’m not arguing. I might pass out—but I’m not arguing.”

His eyes twitched. “If you want a damn boa constrictor named Raul? I’m getting a bigger cage. But if it bites me, it’s getting evicted.”

Her pen paused.

“Passwords? Fine. I got nothing to hide. Just don’t change mine and lock me out when you mad.”

Camille giggled. He felt his soul leave his body.

“Safe word? Hennessy works. You dramatic, so it fits.”

He stared her dead in the eyes. “No-nos? Don’t lie to me. Don’t try to leave without saying shit. Don’t pull that ‘I’m single’ card in public. And don’t disrespect my mom. Everything else? We can fight about it after.”

He rolled his shoulders like the weight of her ridiculous questionnaire was actually hurting him.

“I’m allergic to shellfish but I still eat it for you, so if I die it’s your fault.”

Her eyes went wide. He smirked.

“And who gotta go? That one dude you let put his hand on your thigh at that club? He first. That fake sugar daddy you went to lunch with? Gone. Anybody who makes me feel like I gotta question where you at or what you doing? Outta here.”

He exhaled.

Again.

Then leaned back like he aged ten years in ten minutes.

“You done now?” he muttered, eyes closed.

Camille just tapped her pen to her chin thoughtfully… and didn’t say a word.

CHAPTER 77 “Vice Clause: Activated”

The silence was rich. Like, black card rich. Camille stood in the center of his living room, arms crossed, pink toes flexed, pen dangling from her fingertips. Jimmy had just mentally rewritten his will and maybe prayed a little.

She tilted her head. “So, to clarify—”

He tensed.

She pointed toward the master bedroom with her pen. “That’s one of them orthopedic beds back there, huh? The kind that moves with the remote? 'Cause my back gon’ need support if we sleeping in the same bed and I’m expected to be loyal and flexible.”

Jimmy’s lip twitched. “Yeah. Adjustable. Massage feature too. You want me to add heated blankets?”

She smiled. Slowly. Then hit him with the grin. The one that made his knees weak and his heart nervous.

“Aight, Jonathan,” she said, voice syrupy and dangerous. “I’ll bite.”

He blinked. “Wait what?”

“I said I’ll bite. You got yourself a woman now, congrats. Put it in the books.”

His heart stopped, restarted, then skipped three beats just for fun. “For real?”

She shrugged one shoulder, already strolling back toward the couch like she hadn’t just shattered the fabric of reality. “Mhm. But lemme be real clear with you.”

She turned slowly, brown eyes glowing under the warm lighting like a siren about to sing a sailor to his death.

“If I catch one—and I mean ONE—ounce of doubt on your loyalty to me as your woman…” she smiled, dimple deep and cute.

Then her voice dropped.

“I’ma hurt you.”

Jimmy froze.

“Physically.”

She stepped up on her toes and kissed the corner of his mouth like it was a contract signature.

“And after I hurt you? I’m trashing your shit.”

He blinked, trying to keep up. “Vice—”

“I’m serious. The TV? Gone. That little shelf of rare whiskeys you flex with? Smashed. I’ll bleach your drawers. Rip the soles off your sneakers. Ghost gon’ help me drag your Jordans into the pool.”

He opened his mouth.

She cut him off. “Don’t test me, Jonathan. You got a good thing. Don’t fumble it.”

Then she leaned in and whispered by his jaw, “But if you don’t fumble? I’ll make you forget how to walk every night.”

Jimmy stared at her like she just performed voodoo. Because she kinda did.

And Camille? She strutted back down the hall barefoot, already digging in her purse for her skincare routine like she owned the whole damn estate.

He muttered to himself, still stuck in the same spot.

“God help me. I got a wife now.”

CHAPTER 78 "Wait… She Said Yes?"

Jimmy was still standing there. Still. Frozen. Like a broken NPC.

Camille had disappeared down the hall, humming, probably already stealing one of his T-shirts and brushing her lashes with some designer spoolie. Meanwhile, his brain had officially overheated.

"Wait…" he muttered, brow furrowed. "Wait a damn minute."

He replayed the moment in his head like a TikTok he couldn’t stop watching.

“I’ll bite.”

“You got yourself a woman now, congrats.”

“If I catch one ounce of doubt on your loyalty to me as your woman—”

His eyes widened. The vein in his temple that usually popped up when he was mad? It pulsed, but this time it was pure stress + excitement.

“…She said yes.” He whispered it like it was sacred. Then louder: “SHE SAID YES.”

He took off down the hall like someone fired a gun. Not even checking if Ghost was following. He found her in his bathroom, edges tied down with a silk wrap, his charcoal gray hoodie swallowing her frame, and a serum dropper between her fingers.

She looked up in the mirror and blinked calmly. “Can I help you?”

“You said yes,” he said, voice low but intense.

She shrugged. “Did I?”

“You did.” He pointed at her like she was a felony. “You said yes to all of it.”

She dropped serum on her cheek, blending it in with two fingers, acting completely unbothered. “Hmm, did I also say I was allergic to you repeating yourself?”

Jimmy dragged a hand down his face.

“You said yes to: no more stripping. You said yes to: you mine, no outsiders, no other men. You said yes to being exclusive, tattooing my name, passwords, matching chains, NO damn Raul the snake, and sittin’ your pretty ass in this house like a wife.”

She turned slowly, skin glowing like the betrayal of logic. “Mhm.”

“And you really said yes?”

She batted her lashes. “Didn’t stutter.”

He had to brace himself on the wall like the room was spinning.

“She really said yes.”

Then—because he’s Jimmy—he snapped out of it and walked up behind her, wrapping a massive arm around her waist and pulling her back into his chest like she was a goddamn trophy he just won.

“Nah, don’t backtrack now. You mine. You mine. I’m not breathing different after this.”

Camille side-eyed him in the mirror but didn’t move, lips twitching. “Relax, you actin’ like I just signed over my soul.”

“You did,” he said, deadass serious. “And I’m framing that moment in 4K. Matter fact—”

He pulled out his phone, put it on video mode and turned it to selfie cam.

“You already recording?” she laughed, trying to duck.

“Say it again.”

“No.”

“Say it, Camille.”

She grinned and leaned in close, lips brushing the mic: “I’m yours, Jonathan.”

He almost passed out. Full body restart. Ghost barked once from down the hall like amen.

CHAPTER 79 "Rise & Rage, It's a Family Thing"

The sun was creeping in slow through the automatic blinds she complained about just 12 hours ago (that he now swore he was replacing with ones she picked), and Camille was out cold, tangled in Egyptian cotton sheets, her leg slung over Jimmy’s waist like she owned the man and the mortgage.

Ghost, her cane corso menace/stepson, was snoring like a grown man on the floor beside the bed. Jimmy had one arm stretched under her and the other sprawled out like he fought sleep all night—and lost. His chain, heavy and cold, laid around her neck like a stamp of ownership.

Her phone buzzed violently under her pillow. Jimmy groaned. “Who the hell—”

Camille cracked one eye open, lips dry, brain foggy. She reached under the pillow and dragged her phone out. 27 missed messages from Destiny. 11 from Jey.

One unread FaceTime screenshot. A meme. A “Bitch pick up.”

She blinked, not fully awake, and tapped the FaceTime icon.

Destiny answered on the first ring. “Oh now she wanna answer.”

Camille flopped back in the bed, phone in front of her face. “What time is it?”

Jey’s voice came from the background loud as hell. “IT’S DAMN NEAR NINE! We been calling for an hour!”

“Your man’s twin got me in the trenches,” Camille mumbled, pulling the sheet up over her face.

Destiny leaned into the camera, bonnet tied and baby hairs slicked. “Yeah? Well your trenches got people knocking on our warehouse gate, saying they ‘heard the twins relocated’ and wanna talk ‘business.’ I know you didn’t just say yes to being involved and disappear off-grid.”

“I was—preoccupied,” Camille said innocently, peeking out from under the sheet. Jimmy gave a lazy smirk and yanked her back against him, lips ghosting her shoulder.

Destiny gagged dramatically. “You know what? You grown. But now that you’re officially one of the family—I hope you know them crates you gifted came with strings. One of them weirdos with a tattoo on his neck just showed up talking about ‘Camille the Panther blessed this drop.’ You done made yourself a name.”

Jey popped in the frame shirtless, visibly stressed. “I told you she should’ve never been left alone with that inventory.”

Camille yawned, unbothered. “Y’all acting like I told them my name. I just said ‘enjoy.’”

Destiny cut her a look. “Well now you better get cute, grab Ghost, and get your man up because we need you at the warehouse. Today.”

Click. Call ended.

Camille stared at the phone like it betrayed her. Then she rolled over, smacking Jimmy in the chest lightly. “Wake up. Your relatives are in my damn phone like a HOA board.”

Jimmy didn’t move, just pulled her closer and murmured, “You said you was mine. That means you inherited the drama. Welcome to hell, baby.”

She smirked and flopped dramatically onto his chest. “You better have coffee waiting when I’m out this bed.”

He kissed her forehead, still half asleep. “And you better be wearing nothing but my shirt and my chain while you drink it.”

Ghost barked once, like he seconded that motion.

[ghostfacebunni]

I am, in fact, processing another wave of baby fever though I am in fact not currently fertile

So have some "the baby said their first words" moments with four of my fav boys :) (I will absolutely update later with Alejandro and Rudy but my brain is itchy with Gaz, Soap, Ghost, and Price rn)

Price:

You and Price have been married for five years, dated for two. You ended up having a baby boy (adoption, surrogate, or personal pregnancy whichever you prefer) which you, of course, named "John" aka John JR (aka JJ). Price was currently on leave, taking his time with his lovely spouse and their baby boy. As you sit in the living room in your house, Price holding little JJ and you sitting next to them, you couldn't help but record the cuteness of Price being an absolute father as he played with JJ. JJ was sitting up in Price's arms, babbling away and soaking up all the attention. Until...

"Dada"

You and Price both freeze, taking a few seconds to process what just happened. The room erupted with excitement. Price was grinning ear to ear, cheering his boy on. You were in both awe and shock. Your baby boy said his first word. Price was ecstatic. And the fact you got it on camera made it so much better. He definitely rubbed it in your face for days.

Or if you are also the father, you both celebrated by showing off the video to anyone who had eyes.

Ghost:

You and Ghost ended up having a girl. (GHOST GIVES OFF GIRL DAD ENERGY CHANGE MY MIND) A girl which you had named Diana. Ghost was getting ready to leave to go on a mission, one that will keep him away for possibly weeks, so he was trying to take his time with his lovely spouse and their beautiful little girl. You were holding Diana, gently rocking her in your arms as Ghost was giving her kisses on the head. Diana had started to fuss a little.

"Baba"

You laughed a little, mostly out of shock, as Ghost stood there dumbfounded. "She did not just say 'baba'.", He uttered in disbelief. You nodded, still giggling and giddy. "She's hungry, she wants a bottle.", you defend, trying to keep your grin back. Ghost picked her up out of your arms, holding her close, "You meant to say 'dada', right baby girl? Dada." Diana babbled a little. "Baba.", she repeated (more like corrected). Ghost scowled a little. "No, dada." "Baba." You were practically pissing yourself with all your laughter, having to hold onto the wall for support. Ghost was desperately trying to get your little girl to say his name. In the end, he did end up going on his mission. The first week in he had gotten a video message from you of Diana. In the video Diana was outside in the back garden, messing with the small patch of flowers and repeatedly saying "dada". At least it was her second word, right?

Gaz(my beloved):

Gaz LOVED being a father. Every second of the day he was preaching to the team about how his babies (twins, two boys named August and Lenux) were getting bigger every day. If he wasn't talking about their growth, he was showing off pictures you send of them at the park or making a mess during their dinner. You had decided to pay a surprise visit on base, bringing the twins with you and carrying them in your arms. You had a mischievous grin as you walked up to a surprised looking Gaz. "Kyle, they did it.", you informed. His face twisted in confusion, "did what?" You look at the twins as Gaz took Lenux, giving you an extra arm. "Boys, tell daddy what you said.", you urged. Gaz's face lit up. August, the little trouble maker, started to laugh. He was the first to repeat himself, "kitty!" Lenux clapped his hands a little. "Kitty!", he added. Their first words were kitty. Why? Because the neighborhood cat had paid them a visit, so they decided to use it as an excuse to speak. Gaz laughed. He was over the moon at hearing his boys speak. "Kitty, huh? I'll take it.", He snickered. And for weeks after that, he was going on and on to anyone who would listen about how his boys had said their first words. Eventually, Ghost got him to calm it down by bribing him with pictures of his own baby, Diana. The two traded baby pictures to show their spouses quite frequently.

Soap:

Johnny 'Soap' Mactavish is a good man. Never one to actually face fear without a determination set in his mind. He doesn't scare too easily. Except when it comes to his spouse, who has more than once scolded him for cursing around the baby. A baby girl named Josephine. You didn't agree on a name in time when the baby had arrived, so when you had her in your arms Laswell took the liberty of giving the baby a name herself. It was endearing though, and a beautiful name, so no hard feelings. Soap has a dirty mouth. One that gets him in trouble both at home and on base. So as he was feeding little Josephine while you were washing the dishes, he had accidentally dropped the spoon. He let out a quick "fuck" before bending down to pick it up. Josephine watched him.

"Fuck.", was what she repeated.

Soap froze. His veins turned cold. As the water from the sink turned off, he nearly jumped out of his skin. "Johnny.", you deadpan. Soap stood up with the fallen spoon, slowly looking at you. You had a spray bottle at the ready, a scowl on your face. "Did I just hear our daughters first word?" He gulped nervously, knowing he was on big trouble. But at the same time he was fighting back his laughter, biting his bottom lip to hide his grin. "Fuck.", is what little Josephine decided to add to the conversation. You quickly sprayed with the spray bottle Soap, getting closer. "You and that dirty mouth of yours!", you scolded. Soap couldn't help but cackle, trying to protect himself with his hands from the water being sprayed on him. "I didn't mean to! I swear!", he defended, choking on his laughs. "You're lucky I don't put soap in your mouth!" After the laughter died down and you stopped spraying him, you both go back to your duties. Soap leaned in close to Josephine, kissing her soft forehead. "That's ma girl.", He whispered. "Johnny!", you huff.

(Hope you enjoyed my brainrot of the 141 boys with some cute baby interactions. Baby fever is no joke, it needs to leave me >:(. Have a good day, my baby birds❤️)

[rjmartin11]

Finding Love in the Deadliest Ways

Part Five: Breakfast

Pairing: Elvis & black!female!reader

Summary: Jordee finds the love of a stanger named Elvis she met at the local park. After a week of dating, Jordee learns that Elvis is more than meets the eye. She discovers hidden secrets and finds out more than she bargained for. Will love survive?

Word Count: 4.8K

Warnings: Slowburn. Fluff over breakfast, getting to know each other.

Author's Notes: Welcome to Part Five. If you like this part, like it, follow me, repost it, and leave a comment.

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・🧛🏼‍♂️・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

The next morning, Jordee wakes up to the sun shining in her face. Was Elvis still here? He tucked me in, didn't he? She thinks these things but runs to the bathroom. She relieves herself, washes her hands with soap, and brushes her teeth. Jordee tries to look presentable before she goes looking for Elvis.

Elvis is actually still there. He's sitting at the kitchen table, having a bowl of cereal. The early morning light is shining through the windows, illuminating his figure as he eats his cereal.

He hears a voice from nearby, then looks over and sees Jordee standing there, still half-asleep. He gets up from his chair and walks to her, smiling at her.

"Good morning. Did you sleep well?" He asks as he takes a closer look at her. Jordee was still in her pajamas, and he wanted to make sure she was comfortable.

"I slept very well. Thank you." Jordee says, embracing Elvis. She buries her face in his chest. "Did you sleep well?"

"I slept pretty good. Thank you for asking."

Elvis releases her and smiles. He reaches up to gently hold her face and strokes her cheek.

"You look really cute right now."

Elvis seems to be in a really good mood this morning, as he gives her a sweet smile and just enjoys looking at her. The sleep in her eyes makes her look even more beautiful to him than usual. He can't help but admire her and admire the warmth she radiates.

"Cereal for breakfast?" Jordee points at the table.

"Yes. I've always enjoyed cereal. I know it's not the healthiest choice for breakfast, but it always makes for a good start to my day."

He smiles at her and keeps glancing at her, still admiring the sleepy look in her eyes. He looks at her with a warmth in his eyes that says that he's happy to be with her this morning.

"Is there something else you want to have for breakfast?'"

Jordee goes to the frig and takes out the eggs and pre chopped veggies.

"Do you like omelets? I was thinking about making one for myself. Would you like one?"

"I love omelets. That sounds like a great plan. I'd like that a lot."

Elvis seems excited for Jordee to make him an omelet. It seems like a much better choice than the sugary cereal he was initially eating.

"What kind of omelet are you going to make today? I like the cheese and bacon omelets the most."

Elvis smiles at her and leans against the counter. He looks happy and comfortable. He was really starting to feel at home at Jordee's place.

Jordee pauses for a moment. She knows the items in her refrigerator, and she knows what's not in there. How's she going to break it down to him?

"Don't hate me. I don't eat pork or beef, so I don't have any bacon." Jordee confessed.

Elvis smiles at Jordee and shakes his head. "Don't worry, I don't hate you."

He laughs a little and thinks for a moment about what omelet she could make him. Even though pork and beef are out of the picture, he's still fine with the alternative options.

"What about a spinach omelet? Is that okay?"

He looks at Jordee with a pleasant and eager expression.

"You want it with or without cheese?" Jordee smirks.

Elvis thinks for a second and smiles. "With cheese sounds good. I never said no to cheese anytime."

He chuckles at his joke and looks back at Jordee.

"I'm okay with an omelet without bacon or pork, though. I don't care what goes in the omelet, as long as it's tasty. I also wanted to see your cooking skills in action."

Jordee washes her hands, drys them with paper towels, and get down to business.

She takes the frying pan and places butter in on the skillet, allowing it to melt away. She places the spinach in the pan, allowing it to cook. Jordee gets a bowl cracks two eggs.

"Elvis, do you like seasonings? Like pepper, a little salt, oregano, cayenne?"

Elvis watches her closely as she begins to get everything together for the omelet.

"I love seasonings. Salt and pepper are a must-have. If you have some oregano and cayenne pepper, I'd definitely enjoy them in the omelet."

He looks at her, clearly enjoying seeing her in the kitchen. She seems so natural in this environment. It was clear to see that Jordee loved cooking as much as taking pictures.

Jordee takes out the seasonings and dressed the eggs before whipping all up together. She checks on the spinach on the skillet and takes it off, placing it in a separate bowl.

Jordee cleans the skillet and places more butter in the pan and then the eggs.

She wants for one side to be cooked and flips over the eggs over. Jordee then sprinkles cheese and the cooked spinach on the eggs and folds it in. Allowing the cheese to melt.

Elvis watches in amazement as she works on the omelet. He seems excited to see how it'll turn out.

"You're really good at making omelets."

Elvis doesn't stop admiring Jordee and her skills. He's looking forward to seeing the final result of the omelet that she's been working on. He can see that she's putting a lot of care into making it, and it's only strengthening his admiration for her.

Jordee grabs a plate for Elvis, takes the pan, and places the omelet on the plate.

"Order up!" Jordee says, handing Elvis his plate.

"Smells great. I can't wait to try it." Elvis looks up at her with a big smile.

"Did you make this with me in mind?"

He can't help but ask. She seems to make some pretty good food that Elvis thinks is absolutely fantastic, so he has to know if the omelet was made for him or not.

But he isn't going to complain. He's happy to get to eat any kind of omelet, especially if it's made with love and care.

"I made them with a little TLC." Jordee winks as Elvis and starts to make her breakfast.

The same way she made Elvis' omelet with extra vegetables. When she's done, she makes a small bowl of cereal to go with her omelet. She sits and prays over her food and starts to eat.

Elvis watches Jordee pray over her food and gives her a sweet smile. He's happy to see that she always prays before eating her meals. It's a sweet gesture that Elvis admires greatly.

"Dear Lord, for what we are about to receive, we are truly grateful. I'm also that you brought me someone kind to share it with. Amen."

"Amen."

He prays with Jordee and then goes back to eating his omelet. He picks up his fork and takes his first bite of the meal.

"This is really good. Did I tell you already that you're a great cook?" He asks her with a warm smile.

Jordee cuts her eyes at Elvis. "Stop trying to butter me up."

Elvis chuckles at her joking response. He seems really comfortable with Jordee, like she's someone he's known for a while.

"I'm not trying to butter you up. Just giving a girl a compliment. What would I have to do to actually butter you up?"

Elvis asks in a playful way and glances at her for a response. He smiles at her and continues to eat his omelet.

Jordee looks at Elvis and smiles.

"Just be you. Continue to be kind and courteous. Continue to pull out chairs and open doors for me. Kiss my hand every once in a while. I like that kind of stuff. It makes me feel special. You make me feel special."

Elvis smiles at Jordee and chuckles at her response. He seems surprised by the answer she gave. He didn't expect that she would want him to just be himself and show her common courtesy. He was okay with that, though, as he was willing to do it for her.

"It's easy to make someone feel special when they're as beautiful as you. It's not a problem for me at all."

He leans over to her and gently plants a kiss on her hand.

"Happy?"

Jordee feels her heart go bonkers in her chest at this gesture. "Very." Jordee whispers, nearly out of breath.

Elvis leans back in his chair and keeps eating his omelet. He takes a quick glance over at Jordee and watches her eat. She seemed happy this morning, and it only made him want to be by her side more.

"How's your omelet, by the way?"

He looks back at her with a small smile. He's curious about what she'll say on the omelet that she put so much care into this morning.

"Delicious." Jordee answers, covering her mouth. "I have no doubt in my cooking. I should be asking you. How is your omelet?"

"Your cooking is amazing. I feel lucky to have someone like you cook for me."

He looks back at her and still smiles. He seems so happy to be here with her in this house.

"I have to say, your omelet is really good. The cheese and spinach give it so much flavor, and the eggs are cooked perfectly. I could eat these omelets every single day and not be sick of them."

"That's sweet of you to say. Thanks." Jordee finishes up her omelet and cereal.

"You done? I'll do the dishes. You wanna help?" Jordee asks.

Elvis nods at her and stands up from the table. He also finishes up the last of his omelet and cereal, then sets the bowls in the sink where all the dirty dishes are. He feels like he needs to help clean up after she's already been so generous and cooked him an omelet.

"Yeah, I'm ready to help with the dishes."

He turns around and looks at Jordee, seeing how the dishes have accumulated during the morning. He was ready to pitch in and help. However, the two of them decided to tackle the chores.

Jordee runs the water in the sink and starts the dishes. Elvis comes up behind her and helps out with the dishes. He begins to wash the utensils while she does the heavier stuff like plates and bowls.

"Jordee, can I ask you something?"

He begins the conversation by asking her to see if it's okay for him to ask her something personal. He doesn't want to offend her by anything he might ask. He was just curious about it, is all.

"Yes?"

"You don't have to answer if you don't want to. It's just something I was kind of curious about. I've been dying to know since I got here. What's your last name?"

Elvis washes a fork and looks up at her, waiting to see if it was okay for him to ask this question. He seems a bit embarrassed to ask, not sure how she'd take it.

"The million dollar question, yes." Jordee chuckles. They've only known one another for the past few days, and it a question neither of them have asked. "It's Timmons." She answered, rinsing off a fork.

"Thank you for telling me. Your last name sounds like it belongs to someone really special. Jordee Timmons, it has a nice ring to it."

He smiles at her for a moment before returning his focus to washing the forks that are still in the sink.

"What about me? Do you want to know my last name?"

"I'd love to know your last name." Jordee says, nudging his shoulder with her elbow.

Elvis smiles at Jordee, happy that she wants to know his last name.

"It's Presley. You can call me Elvis Presley. Do you know who Elvis Presley is?"

He chuckles at his own joke and then washes a couple more forks. He asks her in a genuine manner, thinking that she might not know who he is.

"Who doesn't? He's the King of Rock N Roll." Jordee comments.

Elvis laughs out loud at her response. It seems like the most obvious answer that he just had to ask and see for himself. Jordee definitely knew who he was, so he had no reason to be concerned.

"Yes, that's right. I guess you don't need an introduction from me then."

He smiles at her but then goes back to washing the forks.

"Now I have a question for you."

Jordee finishes the dishes and turns off the faucet. Places the frying pan on the stove and the plates in the drain.

"Waz up, Elvis?"

Elvis snaps his fingers as if he just remembers something.

"You did tell me about your brothers. But you never told me what your parents do for work."

He washes a few more utensils and puts them away while they finish up with the dishes. He seems excited to know if her family was working in interesting and fun jobs.

"My mother is a stay at home mom. When my Gramps passed, she moved in with my grandmother and helped take care of her. Sadly, she can't do herself, my grandma, like she once did. It's sad because I remember how my gran worked so hard. Then she had a stroke. Her left side is paralyzed. She needs help with so much."

A tear trickles down Jordee's cheek. She quickly wipes it away.

"But my mom has done everything. She was a dental assistant, and she owned her own cleaning business for years. Cashier. A food stocker. A limo driver. She's incredible."

Elvis's smile fades as he hears Jordee talk about her grandmother and the health issues she's having. He's sympathetic to both her and her family, as he can see it's clearly something that's really hard on her.

"I'm sorry that your grandmother is going through so much and that it's affected your mom too."

He puts the last few forks away and walks over to her, giving her a gentle hug, hoping to cheer her up.

"You have a really strong family."

Jordee thinks of all that she's been through since she was twelve years old. How she's still here standing like a Phoenix born from the ashes of the past. "We have to be." Jordee says.

Elvis keeps hugging her and nods at her, wanting to reassure her about how strong she and her family are.

"I'm really proud of you. It doesn't seem easy to go through something like that and be able to keep going.”

He slowly pulls away, not wanting to let her go, but realizing it would probably be better that he does for now.

"Now, is there anything else in the kitchen that we should take care of?"

He looks around to see if anything else in the kitchen still needs to be finished or cleaned up.

"We're good." Jordee takes one last glance around the kitchen. The dishes are clean. The cereal is stocked. The milk is in the fridge. The refrigerator is closed. I promised I'd show you more pictures today. Come sit in the din."

"Sounds like you really took care of everything. I'm impressed."

Elvis looks back at her and gives her a small nod. He seems relieved at the fact that he doesn't really need to help out with the last little bit of clean-up.

"I'd love to look at those photos you wanted to show me."

He goes to the table and sits down, gesturing for Jordee to come over and join him so he can see all of her amazing shots.

Jordee goes and grabs her scrapbooks and her photo profolio. She places them on the table. She loves photography so much, and she loves sharing it more. Her heart jumps with glee as she sits with Elvis she's s ready to show him.

Elvis begins looking over her scrapbooks and photo portfolio, wanting to take his time with it so he can get a better feel for her skills as a photographer.

"I feel like I'm in for something special."

He seems excited to get to see her work and get an inside look into the things that she's captured on camera and in her memories.

"While you're looking. Tell me something." Jordee says.

Elvis looks up at Jordee and puts the camera aside so he can focus on her.

"What's up? Is there something you wanted to tell me?"

He tilts his head to the side a bit and waits to see what kind of thing she has in mind for him.

"Elvis Presley... that name. Where?" Jordee struggles with the words. "I'm not too sure how to ask this. That name has only belonged to one guy in history. How did you get it? Is it like... well, your family name is Presley. Anyone can name their baby Elvis."

"Oh, I see what you're asking. The name Elvis Presley is my birth name that my father picked out for me. I think he was a huge fan of the iconic singer and actor and wanted to name me after him."

He chuckles at the idea and shakes his head.

"So no, I'm not related to the real Elvis Presley. That name was just chosen because my father liked the famous singer and actor. I know, it's a weird choice for a name, but I love it. Plus, it seems kind of fitting, right?"

"I think the name Elvis is beautiful. El is some sort of holy name. Like God. The last three letters mean something to. I can't say what, though." Jordee says.

"El is a holy name? I didn't know that."

He laughs once more as he listens to her, explaining to him something he never understood before.

"The name Elvis seems beautiful to me too. I guess I'm also a bit biased since it's my name, but I've always liked it since a young age."

"Do any of your siblings have names with special meanings?"

"Of course. Quan means power. Quincy means fifth."

"Those are some really cool meanings for your brothers' names. I like them."

Elvis seems intrigued by the names and the meanings behind them.

"Is it common for your family to have names with special meanings?"

"My mom was just sticking to letters, not names, really. I'm actually named after my grandfather."

Elvis chuckles to himself as she explains it to him.

"That makes sense. I like how your mom did that. So are these recent photos? They're all very nice shots."

He smiles at Jordee as he goes back to her photo portfolio.

"Yes. The last time I went to Florida, I took my brother's graduation photos."

"Your brother must be really proud of those photos you took for him. You're very talented when it comes to taking pictures."

He keeps flipping through the photos and studying the composition and focus of each one.

"I love this one. Of the couple in the park. On my days off, I go to the park and pass out my business cards, and snap some pictures."

"That sounds like a pretty relaxing way to spend the day."

He looks over at Jordee, smiling at her as she explains her process of getting clients for her business.

"You could've sold me on your photography skills with these photos alone. I really like how you're able to capture the moment so well."

Elvis seems impressed by her work and likes how it's able to tell a story just by looking at each picture.

"We're supposed to live in the moment. Why not capture it that way?" Jordee says.

"Look at how I made this one black and white except for the shoes. I call this technique color pop."

Elvis nods at her in agreement and smiles at the photo she's talking about.

"I like that technique. It really makes the shoes stand out and catch your eye more when you see them pop out like that."

He looks away at the photo and then back at Jordee.

"That's actually pretty clever. I like it." Elvis admits, admiring her brilliance.

"I need your help, Elvis." Jordee scoots close to him, hoping he hears her plea.

Elvis looks up at her and raises an eyebrow.

"What help do you need?"

He seems eager to help her with anything she needs.

"I have this new client. He's friendly. I want to do a photo session with him. I haven't told him yet. How do you think I should approach him?" Jordee asks.

Elvis thinks for a moment, his finger tapped against his chin.

"It's hard for me to say without knowing much about your client, but I would probably just ask him straight up. But I'd do it in a friendly manner so they don't get upset or anything." Elvis states.

"Something along the lines of 'Hey there. Would it be okay if I did a photo session of you? Or are they just a regular friend of yours?"

"More than friends." Jordee admits.

Elvis raises an eyebrow.

"More than friends? So you mean like, in a romantic relationship together?"

Jordee nods her head to Elvis. He seems a bit shaken about this but gives his honest opinion. Elvis chuckles a bit as he takes in that information.

"Oh, well, that's very interesting, to say the least. I mean, I don't think it's bad or anything. Just unexpected, that's all." Elvis says.

"As far as approaching them for a photoshoot, how do they feel about having their picture taken?"

"I'm afraid he'll say no."

"Hmm. Well, I guess there's only one way to find out."

Elvis sighs and starts thinking about it for a moment again.

"I think you need to take the chance and just ask them. It's best not to live in regrets and have to look back later and go.' I wish I had just done it. If they say no, it's okay because at least then you'll know for sure that it was a no. So why not just do it?"

"Okay. You're right. Elvis, could I interest you in a photo session?"

Jordee smiles because Elvis didn't realize she was speaking about him the entire time.

Elvis seems a bit confused as he looks over at Jordee with a slightly puzzled expression on his face.

"You wanted me for a photo shoot? Am I modeling, or am I behind the camera?"

He raises an eyebrow and tilts his head to the side.

"The term is subject. You'll be my subject." Jordee says, touching his arm.

"Oh, wow. I could be your subject." Elvis looks at Jordee with a big smile on his face as if he likes the idea.

"That sounds like it could be really fun and interesting. I'd love to do that. Do you have a specific theme in mind?"

"What would you like to do because my mind keeps saying, Boudoir." Jordee lets the words roll off her tongue.

Elvis takes a moment to look at her. He chuckles a bit as he glances at her, wondering if he's really going to do a photoshoot like that for her.

"Boudoir? Like a sexy photoshoot?"

"Yes, very sexy. Like you." Jordee says, combing his hair gently with her fingers.

Elvis blushes a bit as she calls him sexy like that.

"Jordee, I don't know if I could pull off something like that. It's not something I've ever done. I'm not sure if I could even make it look good."

He tries to look away, feeling a little nervous about the thought of it.

"And is that what you want the photo for? For sexy purposes?"

Jordee shrugs. "I do need pictures of my boyfriend in my apartment."

Elvis chuckles a bit at the way she worded that but tries to keep a straight face.

"So is this for your own personal purposes, or are you going to sell these pictures of me, aka your boyfriend?"

"No. Pleasure only." Jordee puts her arm around Elvis's neck.

"But, we can take this slow and go to the park if you like? I just want pictures of you."

Elvis's eyes widen a bit as he stares at her for a moment. He wasn't expecting that kind of touch so soon. It was just another example of how close Jordee seemed to be getting to him.

"Yeah, I think that's a better idea. We can go to the park and just take a few shots."

He tries to keep his composure as best as he can, not wanting to show that she was getting to him.

"Shall we go now?"

"Let me get dressed." Jordee says, leaving the table, and heads to the bedroom to pick out an outfit for the day.

"Ah, okay. Sounds good."

Elvis waits in the living area for Jordee to come back. He looks around the room a bit and notices the scrapbooks and photos that she was showing him earlier. He wonders if he should wait for her in the bedroom or stay here.

He decides to wait here for her and then notices that he can still see the photos she had taken when he went over to pick up the plates. So he walks over to the table and picks up her photos to look at them some more.

"I'll be out in a minute! Make yourself comfortable!" Jordee shouts from the bedroom.

Elvis nods at her and shouts back at her. "Okay, I'll take a look at some of your photos in the meantime."

He takes some of her photos and puts them up in front of him so he can take another look at them while he waits for her to pick out an outfit. He looks at each one carefully as he waits for her to come out.

Five minutes later, Jordee emerges from the room in black leggings and a blue lace shirt.

"Ready."

She walks over to the table and grabs her camera, making sure the flash drive is in and the battery is full. She was planning on spoiling Elvis with camera attention. She put her camera in the camera bag and grabbed her keys.

Elvis looks up at Jordee as he hears her come out of the bedroom. She looks very nice and put together, dressed in her black leggings and blue lace shirt.

"You look great. Love the outfit."

Elvis then gets up from where he was sitting to stand next to her.

"So we'll be heading down to the park for some pictures, correct?"

"Have you changed your mind?" Jordee looks at him with a raised eyebrow.

Elvis chuckles and shakes his head.

"Of course not. I said I would do it, so I'm going to do it. But I thought we were just going to get casual pictures? Were you planning on doing a more risqué photoshoot of me in the park?"

He raises an eyebrow and tilts his head to the side.

"Want to?" Jordee gets real close to Elvis, looking him in the eyes and whispers.

Elvis blushes hard as he feels her getting so close to him and whispering like that. He tries to get her to back off a little bit.

"Jordee, I don't know if I could do something like that. It's too much for me, I think. Couldn't we just do a normal photoshoot for now?"

"I'm kidding! I'm kidding! I won't do that to you. You're so cute when you blush. I need that handsome energy when we take pictures. I'll get my tripod so we can do some together. Is that okay?" Jordee asks.

Elvis smiles at her and shakes his head a bit." Jordee, you are something else, you know that? Just getting me all flustered and everything."

Elvis takes a deep breath and then nods at her. He takes a moment and takes in her outfit once more. She looks great right now in her all black outfit with a subtle touch of blue.

"Yeah, getting the tripod and taking pictures sounds fine to me. Are you sure this is alright? You look fantastic in this."

"You look great in black, E. May I call you, E?" Jordee asks.

Elvis raises his eyebrow and stares at her for a moment.

"Sure, you can call me E. It's pretty short for Elvis, but I suppose it suits me."

He smiles at her as she points out that he looks great in black.

"Thank you. You look wonderful as well."

Jordee grabs his hand and heads out the apartment to his car. Elvis is surprised when she takes his hand like that, but he doesn't mind. He just smiles at her and holds onto her hand as they head towards his car.

He opens the passenger door for her and waits for her to get in before he shuts the door. Then he gets into the driver's seat and starts to drive to the park.

Taglist: @missmaywemeetagain @beeandheroddobsessions @headfullofpresley @everythingpresley @epforeverohyes @vintagepresley @pianginferno @powerofelvis @ab4eva @foreverdolly @searchingforgravity @thatbanditqueen @daffieapple @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @epsgirl @richardslady121 @literally-just-elvis-fics @thememphisflash1935-1977 @vintageshanny @iloveelvis @samfangirls

[hikarry]

11 + 28 + 30 ❤️ for the soft asks

Hello anon!

11. what’s your ideal date?

Oof, it depends. First date or regular date?

It also depends on my mood tho. You know what, I'll just go with the vibe of today.

Maybe dress up to the 9s, go to a restaurant - Italian, please please please - then go to the cinema - without popcorn because I feel hella awkward holding the thingy. I have tiny hands and the thingy is gigantic, ya know -, it doesn't matter if the movie is good or bad, I just want to talk about it later. It must be at night so we can walk down to the river, go to the park and stand on the bridge watching the city lights. Going back home? Uber. Fuck walking.

28. hugs or hand-holding?

Again, it depends.

I only let people I like touch me.

So like, if it's a friend I like hugs is fine.

If it's a friend I like a lot I still prefer hugs.

But if it's a partner I prefer hand-holding. Hugs make me too self-conscious of my back and my size.

30. what reminds you of home (doesn’t have to mean house… just things that remind you of the feeling of home)?

A warm fireplace. Soap operas on the telly. Book in my hand. Hands on my hair.

Ask Game

[fairytales-and-folklore]

Chapter 1: Fantastic First Dates

"And then," Newt says, choking on his laughter, barely able to get the rest of his story out. "The monkey grabs a hold of Tina's cloak and starts shaking her all about, trying to take it off of her. Well, I had to do something, of course. Defend her honor."

"What chivalry! He's your little knight in shining armor, Teenie," Queenie giggles, clapping a hand over her heart and delighting in the way it makes both Newt and Tina blush and cast their eyes to the floor.

"Oh yeah, my hero," Tina laughs, rolling her eyes. "You know, you didn't have to stun the monkey, Newt! That guard looked so suspicious…I'm surprised we didn't get thrown out of the zoo."

Queenie raises an eyebrow, looking back and forth between the both of them.

"I didn't stun him! It was a simple freezing charm, most commonly used to tame Cornish Pixies," Newt says, a little defensively.

"Since when does a freezing charm make soap bubbles come out of someone's ears?" Tina teases. 

Queenie clasps her hands to her mouth to stifle another round of giggles.

"It…well…alright, there might have been a bit of an accident on the ship coming over here, and perhaps now my wand's gone a bit faulty…but my intentions were true, I assure you," he explains, smoothing out his waistcoat and offering Tina a small smile.

Without warning, Queenie gasps and playfully smacks her sister on the arm.

"Tina, you're so bad!" she laughs, mouth hanging open in shock.

Tina's eyes grow wide, cheeks reddening as she realizes what Queenie must've just overheard inside her head. 

Faulty wand…uh oh…I hope that's not a euphemism for his—

Newt cocks his head to the side, clearly confused, staring back and forth between the two of them as he waits for one of them to explain what he'd just missed. Queenie opens her mouth, her complete lack of a filter making her all too eager to share every detail of her sister's dirty mind with poor, unsuspecting Newt, when Tina aims a swift kick at one of her shins from under the dining room table, and Queenie immediately shuts up.

"Ah— Ow! At…um, freezing charms," Queenie lies, rubbing her leg and shooting a pointed glare at her sister. "Yeah, Tina's terrible at them."

"Uh huh, I sure am," Tina mumbles with fake enthusiastic agreement, shuffling leftover potatoes around on her plate and thinking the word sorry really hard at her sister. 

"Oh, well that's alright," Newt says, offering Tina an encouraging smile, completely oblivious to the Goldstein sisters' silent exchange. "You're quite good at repair spells, though, if today was any indication. Much better than I am. My pocketwatch fell out of my jacket and was smashed to bits, but Tina mended it for me in a heartbeat. I'd wager you could have my wand performing at full capacity if you gave it a go—"

"Oh my god," Tina whispers, blushing bright red and hiding her face in her hands.

"Not that I expect you to tinker with my wand, or anything," Newt backpedals, mistaking Tina's embarrassment for irritation, worried that he'd somehow offended her and that his intended compliment had backfired. The last thing he wants is for Tina to think he's just using her for her handiwork, after all. "With how finicky and complicated wands can be, I imagine it would be quite hard—"

Tina shoots Queenie a desperate look, shouting help me inside her head.

"Newt, honey," Queenie says gently, pursing her lips together to keep from bursting out laughing. "Tell me more about what you and Tina got up to today! I want to hear all about it!"

Taking Queenie's cue, Newt launches into an animated tale about their exciting city tour: a lovely stroll through Central Park, admiring the beautiful spring flowers that had just started to bloom, playing with friendly dogs that ran rampant through the park chasing tennis balls and fetch toys, taste-testing pastries and cappuccinos at all the local cafés, touring the Met and whispering criticisms and comparisons of no-maj vs. wizarding artists to one another when the tour guide wasn't looking, wondering how in the world muggles could possibly be interested in art that just stays still all the time. 

He makes wild gestures with his hands, smiles earnestly, and laughs loudly as he recalls even the smallest of details…details that Tina herself had forgotten as the day had gone on. But Newt had captured everything in his memory, right down to the way she prefers her coffee, and her favorite flavor of pastry. They'd already done so much together, it was hard to believe that Newt had only been there for a grand total of two days. As she watches him, Tina thinks back to the moment Newt had first arrived on her doorstep, holding his fantastic case filled with all manner of magical creatures in one hand, and the letter he'd written her, detailing the time and date of his arrival, clutched in the other. (Apparently, the Royal Star Steam Co. travels faster than the post.)

Without word or warning, he'd handed her a worn and beaten journal with bits of yellowing parchment sticking out at odd ends, filled with scribbled-out passages and brightly-colored ink blotches: his original, one-of-a-kind, handwritten manuscript. Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them had finally been submitted for publication, he'd explained, but he was far too excited to wait for the official printed copies to hit the shelves of Flourish and Blott's, so the moment Obscurus Books had given him back his original manuscript, he'd rushed off to purchase tickets and boarded the first ship setting sail for America.

"I hope that's alright," he'd said, worrying his lower lip. "I suppose I just…got a bit carried away in the excitement of it all, and I didn't want to keep you waiting on the copy I'd promised you the last time we saw each other. I'd imagine…months would go by and you…well, you'd probably have forgotten all about me by then."

"I would never forget you, Newt," Tina sighed, grinning at him like an idiot and determinedly ignoring Queenie's unmistakable bout of giggles issuing from the kitchen. "But I could never keep your original manuscript. It's far too—"

"Oh goodness, you're absolutely right. Of course you'd want a fresh copy. Not this battered, unintelligible dribble I've brought you," Newt apologized, lowering his eyes in embarrassment and reaching out to take back his book.

"Precious," Tina finished, arms wrapped around the worn leather, clutching it close to her heart and cradling it like an occamy egg. "I was going to say that it's far too precious."

"Oh," Newt sighed, looking thoroughly relieved, the tips of his ears growing red.

They stood there like that for a long while, just staring at one another; Tina in the doorway of her apartment, Newt awkwardly shifting his weight from one foot to the other in the hallway, until Tina finally snapped out of her reverie and welcomed him inside.

His arrival had been most unexpected. 

Unexpected, but by no means unwelcome. 

The moment she saw him standing there with his bright, hopeful eyes, his tousled ginger hair and sun-kissed freckles, and his adorable, sheepish grin, all of the feelings she'd been fighting so hard to quell came rushing back. Even after several months spent apart, it felt like no time had passed at all. And in just two days, they had already done so much together.

Tina smiles as she watches Newt, ignoring the little tickling sensation at the back of her mind that means Queenie can hear everything she's thinking, can practically feel every emotion she's feeling as they all bubble up to the surface. For once, Tina doesn't fight it, heart swelling in her chest each time Newt's smile grows impossibly wider. She tells herself that it's okay to feel this way, to let herself be happy. That she deserves to be happy. Out of the corner of her eye, Queenie gives her an encouraging smile.

"It was truly lovely," Newt finishes, catching Tina's gaze and holding it for a moment too long. "But not nearly as lovely as the company."

Tina's face grows hot as she stifles an embarrassing giggle-snort, chastising herself for giggling about a boy like a schoolgirl with a crush. 

An incredibly charming boy. 

Who just told her that she's lovely. 

Oh my god.

"Thank you, Newt. I had a lovely time with you, too," she says quietly, bowing her head to avoid looking directly at him.

Newt mumbles something unintelligible, a soft blush creeping into the curves of his cheekbones. His eyes roam the dining room, pointedly avoiding the entire corner in which Tina is sitting, and taking a sudden, intense interest in a small tear in his waistcoat.

"Well," Queenie says, breaking the silence and popping up from the dining room table with far too much energy for a person who'd spent the whole day in a cramped little office. "It's getting late. I should go to bed. Got another long day tomorrow. Which reminds me…are you going into work tomorrow, Tina?"

"Oh, um. No, actually. I requested some time off this week so I could…you know, since Newt's here, I thought I should…show him the sights," Tina finishes rather lamely.

Queenie hums thoughtfully in response, mumbling a mischievous I'm sure you will under her breath as she clears the table with a swift flick of her wand, and then bids them both goodnight, sweeping from the living room and leaving a deafening silence in her wake.

Tina opens her mouth several times, poised on the edge of a potential new conversation topic, and then closes it. Newt picks incessantly at the hole in his waistcoat, making it worse. He could fit his whole hand in there now, if he tried. And so he does. And now he's trying to shake it loose, flailing all about, and Tina is laughing at him, pulling out her wand, and releasing him from the unforgiving fabric. Within seconds, she's mended the hole, and his waistcoat looks as good as new.

"Thank you," he says with a small, embarrassed smile. "I must remember that spell."

Tina smiles and nods, waiting for Newt to say something else, so that the silence won't keep stretching on. They're both grown adults, for God's sake. After everything they've been through together, it shouldn't be this hard to strike up a conversation with him. After all, they'd talked all day long, and had a wonderful time of it. 

But then, Tina supposes, that's because they'd been constantly on the move, running from one exhibit to the next, surrounded by all things bright and beautiful, enveloped in the bustling crowds of New York. They'd had a never-ending supply of people and things to talk about. But now…well…here they are, sitting at her dining room table, well past a decent hour in the evening. 

Just the two of them. 

Tina's eyes flicker to her bedroom door.

This is entirely new territory. 

This is…a courtship?

Tina has a brief moment of panic as she wonders whether or not Newt actually has an interest in pursuing her romantically, or if he just views her as a friend. After all, it's not like they've known each other very long. Two days spent chasing down Obscurials, magical creatures, and a wicked criminal masquerading as her asshole coworker, followed by several months and a whole ocean apart hardly qualifies as the start of a good relationship. 

But then, she reminds herself that this man sitting across the table from her had traveled halfway across the world just to deliver the original, handwritten copy of his prized book to her, because he couldn't wait another few weeks or months or however long it might have taken for the official printed copies to be published. 

Tina chances a look over at him, hoping for some kind of a sign. Newt meets her gaze almost instantly, and his lips curve into the most glorious, goofiest smile that Tina has ever seen. Her heart soars and she can't help but beam back at him, feeling a prickle of warmth beneath the apples of her cheeks.

Yes, this is definitely new territory. 

Well, she knows one thing that might help loosen them both up.

"Nightcap?" Tina asks before her brain can thoroughly think it through, hopping up in a bouncy imitation of Queenie.

"Oh! Erm, yes, alright," Newt agrees hesitantly. He's not much of a drinker, per se, aside from the occasional two fingers of scotch in an heirloom snifter while he scribbles notes in the margins of his manuscript, but he'll take any excuse to stay in her company a little while longer.

"Have you got butterbeer, by any chance?" he asks, thinking fondly of his school trips to Hogsmeade.

Tina spins around on her heel.

"Oh, um. No, sorry," she says, regretfully. "That's a British drink, right? I've never had it myself, but I hear it's delicious."

"It is! Tastes like butterscotch candies," Newt says with a reminiscent smile.

"Mmm, that does sound good," Tina says. "But I'm pretty sure it'd have to be imported, and with the way things are now, it's hard enough to—"

"Right, yes, of course. I'd imagine it would be rather difficult to obtain muggle liquor right now, let alone a specialty drink made by our kind," Newt says thoughtfully. "Yet another backwards law, in my opinion. Doesn't seem to matter if you're muggle or magic, this country has a bad habit of banning people from doing as they please."

"Yeah, I suppose we do," Tina laughs nervously.

"I'll just…go and see what we do have, then. Um…why don't you head into the living room and make yourself comfortable? I'll be out in just a sec," Tina says, making a beeline for the kitchen cabinets. 

Newt nods in agreement, and wanders out into the living room. His brows furrow as he surveys the seating arrangement, staring back and forth between an armchair and a loveseat for an inordinate amount of time before finally settling onto the far end of the loveseat, hands poised on the ends of his knees as he waits for Tina to return. There's a bit of clinking, a small shatter, and a murmured curse as Tina repairs a broken teacup, and then a few moments later, she returns, holding two elegant crystal goblets, and a bottle of—

"Honey wine," Tina says, holding up the rose gold bottle. "Elf-made, I think. Queenie got it from a guy at work who's sweet on her. I doubt she'll mind if we have a little taste."

"I would be delighted," Newt says, eyes widening in slight trepidation as Tina fills his glass to the brim. 

They sip their wine slowly, the silence cut only when Newt splutters and coughs.

"Oh god, is it really that bad?" Tina asks, concerned.

"No, no, it's quite good, actually," he assures her, banging a hand on his chest. "It just went down the wrong way!"

"Oh," Tina says, laughing in relief.

Newt notices that Tina is still standing, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, one hand holding onto her wine glass, the other weaving through her short, wavy, brown hair, twisting and untwisting a lock…the same one, he remembers with a little flip of his heart, that he'd tucked behind her ear the day he'd sailed back to England. 

Not wanting to look foolish, Newt decides that he should probably be standing as well. He pops up from the loveseat and paces back and forth, finally settling into a little nook between the wall and the fireplace, resting one elbow upon the mantle. 

As the honey wine swims through their veins, the two of them finally start to loosen up a little, reliving their tour through the art museum, and giggling madly as they recount all the jokes they'd made about the no-maj passersby.

"And do you remember the one," Tina says, clutching her stomach as she buckles over in laughter, nearly spilling her third glass of wine. "With the lime green bowler hat? I mean, come on, did he get dressed in the dark or something?"

"He must have! It was atrocious," Newt agrees, chuckling quietly. "Oh, we're being so catty, but I quite like it."

"Me too," Tina admits, blushing slightly as she remembers the way Newt had leaned in close to whisper in her ear, making her laugh so hard and so loud that all the surrounding no-majs had given her dirty looks. Normally, she would care about something like that. Normally, it would make her feel self-conscious. She hated breaking rules and disrupting courtesy, but with Newt there, she found that she hardly cared. It was like the rest of the world had fallen away, and it was just the two of them, sharing this fantastic secret that was theirs alone.

"You're so easy to talk to," she says, smiling to herself. "Well, no, actually, you're not. I mean, I love talking to you, it's just that normally, you make me kind of nervous. So, you know, the liquor helps."

Tina pauses for a moment, replaying what she'd just admitted in her head.

"Oh god. Um. Not that I need liquor to talk to you. You're great on your own. You just…well, you make me feel a little…" Tina trails off, that familiar old blush creeping back into her cheeks.

"Nervous?" Newt asks with a soft lilt to his voice, caught somewhere between intrigue and concern. 

Tina splutters, choking on the sip of wine she'd taken to try to avoid any more word vomit.

"I meant that in a good way," she amends, but no explanation that makes any kind of actual sense comes to mind.

"I make you nervous in a good way?" Newt teases, an impish smile reminiscent of the Cheshire Cat spreading across his face as he reads between the lines and works out what she'd accidentally confessed.

"Why do I make you nervous, Tina?" he growls softly, his voice like finely aged whiskey curling around every syllable of her name, savoring it like a delicacy. 

Newt delights in the way it makes her weak at the knees, smiles even wider when her breath audibly hitches and she bites her lower lip. He doesn't quite understand why, but somehow, her admission of nervousness had momentarily quelled his own, giving him the push he needed. He sets his wine glass down on the mantelpiece, runs his fingers through his hair, and fixes her with a coquettish smile, his hazel eyes lighting up at the sight of her, wide-eyed and lost for words.

Tina splutters, swallowing thickly and licking her lips in anticipation as he saunters toward her, a wicked glint in his eyes. He's fire and mischief and beautiful and impossible and adorable and sexy all at once, and how the hell does this walking contradiction of a man manage to pull that off? 

This is it, she thinks. He's going to kiss her, and oh god, there isn't enough alcohol in the world to calm her nerves right now. She's been dreaming of this moment for months now, replaying every possible scenario (and, thanks to crippling anxiety, every possible avenue of failure) in her head, musing over what his lips might taste like, how soft they'd probably feel pressed against her own. God, the things Queenie must've overheard these past few months…

A wave of panic and excitement floods her chest, heart thundering, palms slick against her wine glass as she struggles to keep hold of it. He's coming toward her, loosening his bowtie and tugging on the collar of his white button-down shirt until it's upturned slightly, like he just knows she's been dying to grab a hold of it and pull him flush against her. 

And then the tip of one of his boots catches on a snag in the carpeting, and he's stumbling, flailing like a baby giraffe learning how to walk, knees giving out as he topples over, and crashes face-first onto the floor. 

Tina bursts out laughing; a loud, bellowing roar that rattles her ribcage and makes her spill wine all down the front of her blouse. She sets down her glass and sprints toward him, offering a hand to help him up.

"Oh, Newt, honey. Are you alright?" she asks, giggling uncontrollably, all of the tension and anticipation of kissing this ridiculous man gone, replaced with the comfortable notion that he's just as nervous and clumsy as she is. 

It's humbling, really. And in a way, entirely, perfectly them. 

Newt, meanwhile, doesn't seem to share this sentiment. He lies on the floor, sighing in exasperation, surrendering to gravity and rotten luck.

"Right, well," he says, his voice muffled by the fluffy rug. "Just what I needed, wasn't it? Face full of carpet."

"Not one of your more graceful moments," Tina admits with a sympathetic smile, laughter fading into a lighthearted sigh as she grabs a hold of Newt's hand and pulls him up off the floor. "But, if it's possible, you just got even more adorable."

"You think I'm adorable?" Newt asks softly, and Tina tenses as she feels his breath sweep across her neck. It's in that moment that she realizes just how close he's standing, their chests nearly pressed together as he hovers a mere whisper above her. She chances a look up at him, his eyes bright and hopeful as he stares down at her with a vulnerable intensity. She feels his fingers twitch against her wrist, and remembers that they're still holding hands. Tina bites her lower lip, and Newt's eyes follow her every movement.

If ever there was a redeeming first kiss moment, Tina muses, this would be it.

"Well then, I suppose I should…erm," Newt quavers, swallowing back several months' worth of what-ifs, spent wondering what could have been if he'd just—

Kissed her. 

He should have kissed her. 

And he's known that he should have kissed her from the moment he'd boarded that ship. But just as he'd reached forward to gently cup her face in his hands, his nerves had gotten the better of him, and after a few seconds' hesitation, he'd simply tucked back a loose lock of her hair, fingertips ghosting over the side of her face in a dulcet caress. 

He'd made it halfway to the boarding ramp when he finally convinced himself to double back, resolute with every intention of…well, asking if he could kiss her, honestly, as he didn't want to be impolite and just assume…

So sorry, but how would you feel if I—

But the tears glistening in her eyes made him feel like he'd just swallowed his own heart, and he'd faltered, falling back on something safe and familiar, forgoing romantic spontaneity and using the publication of his book as a flimsy excuse to come back and see her at some indeterminable time in the future. 

And now, here he was, many months later, arriving on her doorstep unannounced, and he couldn't even manage to uphold his end of the deal. He thinks of the tattered mess of leather-bound scribbles he'd given Tina in lieu of an actual published book, of how keen and desperate he must have come across, and a furious blush creeps across his cheeks.

Still, the way she's looking at him just now…perhaps this isn't as one-sided as he'd feared. His eyes dance over her every feature, drinking her in; her eyes, alight with wonder, lips curved into a euphoric smile. His eyes linger, as they so often do, on her lips; soft, full, lightly reddened from the wine. He wonders if, like the wine, Tina's lips taste of wildflowers, honey, and cinnamon. He's so close, he could just—

Tina's eyes flutter closed, lips forming a perfect pout, and Newt's heart stops.

"I…erm…it's getting late," he says with a heavy sigh, fumbling with his pocketwatch and pretending to check the time. "I should probably head back to the, er…hotel. Go to bed, as it were."

"Mmm," Tina says, smile wilting as Newt steps back out of her personal space and begins to collect his things. 

He's all talk, he knows, wavering from foolhardy bursts of confidence to waxing and waning uncertainty in a manner of seconds. He tells himself that it just isn't the right moment, that it needs to be something bigger and better than midnight in the middle of Tina's living room after a few glasses of wine. That a woman like Tina deserves fireworks, and candlelight, and, if he thought he could actually manage it, the moon on a string. He's been planning this moment in his head for months, and it needs to be perfect.

"But I should very much like to see you tomorrow, if you'll have me?" he asks with a tentative, hopeful smile.

If you'll have me. 

An electric shiver runs down Tina's spine at those words, but before her mind can wander into unseemly territory again, she quickly dismisses that train of thought.

"I would be delighted," she says, smiling brightly. "Meet me outside my building around 9 o'clock? We can stop by Jacob's bakery for breakfast."

"Oh!" Newt exclaims, perking up at the mention of his dear friend. "Does he…I mean to say, did the memory spell—"

"No," Tina sighs, heart breaking a little as Newt's cheerful expression wavers. "But Queenie and I are regulars! We're in and out of there all the time…well, her more so than me. He…he knows us only as his loyal customers now. But he seems happy."

"Of course." Newt smiles wistfully. "All is as it should be, I suppose."

"Still, I thought you might like to see him," Tina says, offering him a small, encouraging smile.

"Absolutely. It's not often you get a second chance at a first impression," Newt says, pulling his jacket up around his shoulders as he prepares to take his leave. He inclines his head in a small bow. "Well then, Miss Goldstein, until tomorrow."

"Goodnight, Newt," Tina says, memorizing the affectionate smile he gives her, right before he turns on his heel and twists out of sight. Tina stands there for a moment, watching the spot he'd just vanished from for a bit longer than she'd care to admit. After a few moments, she sighs and shakes her head, plunking down onto the worn, cozy cushions of her favorite armchair, and making a never-ending checklist of all the reasons why the ever-charming Newt Scamander makes her so nervous.

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Strangeness and Charm

Fantastic Beasts » Newtina

Title: Strangeness and Charm

Author: fairytalesandfolklore

Fandom: Fantastic Beasts (Masterlist)

Relationship: Newt Scamander x Tina Goldstein

AO3 Rating: Teen & Up (a complete collection of author's notes, inspiration credits, content warnings and tags can be found on AO3)

Summary: Set a few months after the events of the first film, Newt returns to New York to make good on his promise, and an exceptionally awkward courtship, rife with bad jokes and an inordinate amount of blushing, begins.

The moment she saw him standing there with his bright, hopeful eyes, his tousled ginger hair and sun-kissed freckles, and his adorable, sheepish grin, all of the feelings she'd been fighting so hard to quell came rushing back. Even after several months spent apart, it felt like no time had passed at all.

Read On AO3 | Read On Tumblr: Chapter 1