God Only Knows What I’d Be Without You
authors note: so this is completely self-indulgent. I recently watched Rivals and I’m absolutely obsessed with Freddie. He’s such a cutie and I cannot find any fanfics out there for him, so I’m writing my own. Obviously, he and Lizzie are end game, but I needed to get this out of my system. I’m hoping I’m not the only Freddie girlie out there! I’m hoping I don’t get the writing of him too out of character, fingers crossed. Also, there is a little change in the timeline, just to make what I want to happen a little bit more seamless. Justice for Taggie as well. I know she has her sister, but that girl needs a proper best friend in the show to help her navigate the elites of Rutshire. Freddie and Valerie’s daughter and son don’t exist in this story either (sorry kids).
Warnings: groping (the scene in the show with Taggie and Rupert still happens), adultery but it’s ethical, unprotected sex, swearing, violence, era-typical sexism and shooting of animals for sport.
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“Any of you ladies fancy having a go?” He turns, looking over at his wife, Valerie, standing along with Lizzie and Sarah. Valerie stood in her, what can only be described as very Sherlock Holmes-esque get-up she’d ordered from her infamous boutique in the town of Rutshire, looking towards her husband with a nervous gleam in her eye and a very stood-off position.
“Traditionally speaking, Fred-Fred, it’s the men that shoot! We ladies are here to merely marvel at your prowess!” She nervously jokes, waving her hands slightly. He turns, looking over towards the drink and food table, you and Taggie, refilling whiskey glasses and champagne flutes to keep up with the demand of speed that the hunting party were chugging it down, obviously gearing up for a night of debauchery.
“How about you, ladies? Give you a break from serving these lot.” You don’t look up from your task until Taggie gently nudges you with her elbow, motioning over to the loud Cockney man, stood slightly ajar, a friendly smile on his face.
“Oh come off it, Freddie! Leave the help to their work.” Tony shouts, chuckling from further down the firing line. You scowl, hating how you and Taggie were always seen as lower level by Tony and his band of horrid friends, just because you were the hired help and Taggie was Declan’s daughter. Taggie looks to you, waited on baited breath, knowing you well enough that you would never back down from a challenge. You walk around the table, sauntering over to him, introducing yourself.
“Nice to meet you, love, Freddie Jones. You ever held a gun before?” You decided to play dumb, playing a little game with Tony couldn’t hurt. You shook your head, he asked you what hand you favoured before using his calloused hands to gently manoeuvre you into the correct shooting position. “Make sure you push it right into your shoulder, otherwise you’ll do yourself a mischief.” He looks down at you, before stepping away with a little flair, his hands out. “When you’re ready, love.”
You aim at a pheasant, shooting it right out of the sky with a precision shot, the bird falling at your feet into a murky puddle. That causes Tony and the rest of the hunting party to look your way, as you shoot another one out of the sky. Even Taggie stops serving to watch you as you continue to shoot the golden-brown birds with well-timed shots until you run out of bullets. By this time, the other huntsmen have crowded around Tony as he watches you with what could be described as a hateful glint in his eye, knowing you’ve made him look foolish in front of not only his friends but the new potential board member that he had been chasing.
Freddie, on the other hand, lets out a loud laugh, his eyes lighting up as he takes count of the pheasants. “Christ, girl. Bloody fantastic! Where do you learn to shoot like that, love?” He asks as you pass him back the now empty chambered gun. You smiled at him, “My father’s a keen shooter, it’s just that Tony doesn’t believe in inviting anyone he doesn’t deem worthy.”
Freddie scoffs at that, “Bloody Tony, sounds about right.” He casts over a look to Tony, who is now watching you both with an inquisitive eye, his cigar hanging out of his mouth. Freddie turns back to you, a mischievous stare on his face. “I reckon you’ve just shown his judgement up, good and proper. I need to watch you, sweetheart, I mean you did just lie straight to my face.” He smirks, no real heat behind his words, more humour at how you’d just played not only Tony, but him as well.
“Sorry, I’m afraid my target was Tony, you just got caught in the crossfire.” You give him one last smile, before walking back over to the drinks table where Taggie was still handling the food and drinks. She whispers over to you as you approach her once more, “While I don’t condone the killing of animals for entertainment… you should have seen the look on Tony’s face, looked like he bit into a lemon.” She smirks, looking as you restock some flutes with champagne. “And that, my darling, made it so unbelievably worth it.” You smirk at her before you both burst into quiet giggles, looking back at the firing line, catching Freddie’s eye watching over you both, his focus on you before raising the gun back into position, a small huff of a laugh on his lips. Valerie hastily walks over to her husband, beginning to feel nervous about his total disregard for the social etiquette that Tony seems to value on these hunts, her sole focus still on making sure her social ladder climbing doesn’t get derailed by her Fred-Fred’s antics.
Another week passes, you and Taggie are packed into her father’s Mini Clubman, driving down the winding roads of the Cotswolds, listening to Situations on the radio. Taggie’s hands tap the wheel in time to the music, in relatively high spirits for the day. You had been hired by Valerie for her dinner party this evening, her giving you particularly unexpected high praises for the spread you and Taggie had provided for Tony’s hunt the other weekend. As she moves to turn down the music a little, she looks over to you as you read over the dedicated menu for tonight’s dinner.
“Is this woman half French or something? Why does she want the menus in French? I mean, pavlova for Christ’s sake, Tag. We are used to cooking for men on hunts. Give them pork pies and they are happy, this is just ridiculous.” You scoff, throwing the papers down on the dashboard. She laughs, not really interested in speaking about the night to come. “Enough about that… you looking forward to seeing a certain somebody at this thing?” She raises a curious brown brow at you, a small tight-lipped smirk on her face. You sigh, knowing what she’s trying to suggest. “He was just shocked a woman could outshoot a bunch of men who had been brought up hunting, that’s all. It was like seeing a unicorn for him, probably.”
She laughs, shaking her head as you turn into the long road leading towards the now so-called ‘Green Lawns’ that Valerie has taken the liberty of renaming as soon as she and Freddie moved in. “Alright then, but you didn’t see the way he was looking at you when you were shooting. The man looked like you were his favourite meal…” You playfully smack her arm, telling her to knock it off, but you can feel the heat rush to your cheeks at the thought of Freddie even paying that sort of attention to you of all people. She just laughs again at your jab, bringing the car to a stop in front of the large manor house, a rather ghastly extension of a conservatory ruining the natural beauty of the century-old building.
You and Taggie start putting on the different food, a water pot simmering on the stove, the steam entering the room when Valerie comes through, rollers in her blonde hair, a purple sweater thrown on in what looked like a hurry. She holds out two short maids’ uniforms, the neckline leaving little to the imagination in terms of modesty and the length even less so. “Fred-Fred insisted we invite Rupert along, as if we don’t know how Tony feels about him, honestly!” Your eyes expand at that information, knowing that Taggie had already met the cocky ex-jockey, even seeing him playing naked tennis with Paul Stratton’s wife. You have to cover your slight snicker with a well-timed cough, Taggie shooting daggers at you. “Now, I’ll need you girls to serve tonight as well as cook. These are what you will be wearing. I’ve got to get on, so much to do!” She leaves the outfits on the countertop that is not currently full of cut vegetables and stalks off. Taggie waited until Valerie was out of earshot before muttering to you. “I bet you any money Freddie only invited Rupert to watch Tony squirm. Genius, really.” You laugh, going to take a closer look at the outfits she had left for you. You hold it up in front of you, your face losing colour.
“Taggie… she cannot be serious. This thing will barely cover a knicker line!” You hiss, Taggie joining you in looking at the quite risqué dress. “I’m not happy about it either… we’ve just got to think of the money.” You groan, begrudgingly admitting that she has a point. “Fine, you watch over everything, I’ll go and change.” You walk into the hallway of the home, trying to find the nearest washroom. You turn the corner, crashing into a gruff but broad frame, gasping when you realise it’s Freddie. “Oh sorry! Mr Jones, I didn’t see you there.” You stand back up, your arm draped in the dress, not wanting it to fall on the ground, god knows what Valerie’s reaction would be for her waitress for the night getting even a smudge on the outfit. “Just Freddie, love. A woman who outshoots Tony Baddingham right in front of my own eyes, I’m happy to call a friend. How have you been, darlin’?” He asked, a warm smile on his face, making small creases under his eyes.
“Good thanks, my father got an earful from Tony’s assistant on the phone, threatening to never hire me to cater again, but between you and me, I think that was just manly pride being wounded.” Freddie laughs, picturing the assistant having to make that embarrassing phone call. “Honestly, you and Taggie deserve the Queen’s honours for putting up with that bunch on a monthly basis. Patience of saints you must have, I take my hat off to you both.” You watch him as he looks down at you, something other than admiration in his sight, though you can’t quite pinpoint what else you see staring back at you. “Yes well, got to pay the bills and all of that.” You hum, looking up the stairway. “Could you point me to your washroom? Got to change into my outfit for tonight?” You gesture vaguely at the fabric on your arm. He catches himself still gazing at you before clearing his throat, pointing to a door just viewable at the top of the staircase. “Just that one there, love, don’t let me stop you.”
You give a slight grin, thanking him before making your way up the stairs to go and change into your dress for the evening. You don’t see him following you for a few moments before continuing to make his way down the hall.
You and Taggie stand side by side, as Valerie pulls at the bottom of your dresses, trying to make them look longer but failing spectacularly. If looks could kill… she’d be five feet deep in her own back garden right now. You felt utterly humiliated, couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d orchestrated this on purpose to embarrass you for your showing off in front of her husband at the shoot the other day.
“Are you girls always this height? I can usually size people by looking.” She takes a step back, eyeing you both up with a hint of wickedness in her eyes. Yeah… you started to realise your earlier direction of thinking was probably right on the money. You were just feeling guilty that Taggie had been dragged into this pathetic little power play Valerie Jones had colluded with in her head. “Well, we didn’t know you wanted us serving people tonight… we usually just cater.” You crossed your arms over your chest, the dress tightening around your cleavage. “Well, I can’t exactly do it myself, can I? Now you girls know to go round the dinner table clockwise, don’t you?” She motions a clockwise circle with her manicured fingers, before looking over the already growing spread on the table that you and Taggie had gotten through. “And I need you to write out the menus, in French if you don’t mind, you got through the ones I sent the other day for you to study, yes?” You roll your eyes behind her back, Taggie biting her lip softly to stop herself from laughing at your annoyance. Your reply to Valerie is cut short when Freddie saunters in, a bottle of expensive red wine clutched under his arm. He goes to speak when he takes in the sight of you in the ridiculously short and form-fitting maids’ dress. You feel his eyes rake over your curves, up the neckline of the dress before looking away when Valerie snaps her head up to look at him, just seconds away from catching him.
“Hello ladies… need a taste-tester?” He jokes, putting the bottle of red on the countertop. “I’m still cross with you, Fred-Fred, what were you thinking inviting Rupert? You know how Tony feels about him!” She looks at him, exasperated, her eyes looking over the little drawing of the table, mentally moving guests around in her head. “I mean, now I have to change the placement, just so they aren’t near each other.” You almost laugh at the way she pronounces “placement” with a terrible French annunciation; she pays no mind, her heels clicking on the kitchen tiles as she exits to go and sort out the dining room. Freddie just chuckles, turning back to you and Taggie. “Always gets into her own head about these dinner parties, me? I couldn’t give a toss, not going out my way to impress a load of toffs with silver spoons born into their arses.”
You and Taggie chuckle; at least one of the hosts isn’t shrilling and ordering you around like scullery maids. Freddie grabs a breadstick out of a silver pot you plated for tonight, taking a bite out of the still slightly warm snack. “Can’t wait for dinner.” He leaves with one last rake of his eyes over your outfit. You let a breath out you didn’t even know you were holding in; Taggie turns from her pastry rolling to stare at you, a knowing gleam in her eyes. “Alright… maybe the outfits aren’t that bad.” You smirk, the obvious approval from Freddie over your outfit making your heart beat just that slight bit faster.
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When you had been hired tonight, you had expected at least some sort of antics and tomfoolery to be had. What you hadn’t expected was Taggie to come down to you, eyes widened like she’d seen a ghost, explaining she had just caught Rupert Campbell-Black deep in Paul Stratton’s wife, the same wife she had caught him with that day at his Pembroke Estate. You hadn’t expected Cameron Cook to waltz in the building in a black power suit, and you hadn’t expected Monica Baddingham to look like she wanted to commit crimes against her husband’s slight wandering eyes that he seemed to keep throwing his star producers way.
“Just be lucky we get to leave at the end of the night and we don’t have to deal with these people on a daily basis.” You’d told Taggie, as you both plated up the main course, skilfully holding them on your forearms before walking towards the dining room, coming across a fraction of the conversation being had by the guests.
“It’s where I got my drive to succeed!” Tony says quite enthusiastically, speaking to Valerie. “I wish my Fred-Fred had a drive like that…” Freddie looks up towards the other head of the table at his wife, his wine glass stopping at his mouth. “We can’t seem to budge the scales at all.” You look at Freddie’s reaction to Valerie’s mean comment, he puts on that jovial smile of his, you can tell it doesn’t make its way to his eyes. He puts the glass down, taking interest in spinning it slowly by its steam on the table. You feel your heart sink at his expression, you get the feeling this isn’t the first time his wife has commented on his weight, as you continue to hand out the plates of food, clockwise like Valerie had requested.
“Be careful what you wish for, Valerie… might drive him to some dangerous places.” Rupert comments, before looking over his wine glass at Freddie and then at you as you put his plate in front of him at the table. What you hadn’t noticed throughout the night was Rupert’s observant skills; he’d already picked up on Freddie’s changes in behaviour whenever you entered or exited the room. The way he’d get the look of desire on his face, how he’d adjust himself slightly in his seat, and the faint blush of a pale red on his cheeks. Just as now, Freddie glances at you, thinking in his mind you could be the ‘dangerous place’ Rupert was describing.
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You stand by the kitchen sink, almost finished cleaning up. Taggie had offered to serve the last course, the pavlova, by herself, hoping that meant you could get a head start on the cleaning, so you could leave sooner rather than later. You are putting away plates when she comes back into the room, her dress and hands covered in cream from the pavlova, causing you confusion. “Tag? What happened? Are you okay?” You place down the plates, walking over to her. You could tell she was in distress from the way she stood with her back up. “I dropped the pavlova all over Cameron! God, she said it was Armani! I can’t afford to pay for that!” You shush her, trying your best to calm her down before the waterworks broke the dam. “It’s fine, I’m sure she’s just angry now. She knows you didn’t do it on purpose.” You rub her arm, Taggie looking at you like there is something she is leaving out of the story. You look back at her, letting her know she could tell you the rest. “Taggie… that’s not all that happened, is it?” You ask softly. She looks down at the floor, her shoes suddenly becoming very interesting to her. “Rupert put his hand up my dress, that’s what made me drop everything.” She says quietly, almost like she doesn’t want to admit what happened to her. You take a breath through your nose, the heat of anger engulfing your body at the actions of that pompous pig.
“Right… Go and change, get out that dress. I’ll sort out the rest of the stuff in here.” You tell her, she scurries off to change out of the now sticky and ruined dress. You put a hand on your nose, thinking surely this wasn’t worth the money. This is the last time you would let her take a job that included having to even look at that man. You finish the remainder of the cleaning up in such a quick fashion you almost couldn’t believe it yourself, using your anger at what happened to Taggie to fuel you forward. You leave the rest of the leftovers on the side of the kitchen, making sure everything was turned off and ready to go. Picking up the last cooler, you walk through the hallway of the house, looking into the dining room. Freddie looks up at the right time, studying your expression, your eyes locking onto his, almost like the world had moved into slow motion. Not even his smitten stare at you could quell the bubbling rage under your skin. You whip your head around, continuing towards the door of the back of the home. You come into the view of both Taggie and Rupert, obviously in a heated discussion. You put the last cooler by her feet, not even bothering to say anything before turning to Rupert, the same smarmy grin on his face. You raise your arm, pulling back before clocking Rupert’s nose with your fist, his head jerking back. Taggie’s mouth drops open, not expecting you to put your hands on Rupert.
“What the fuck? Do you know who the fuck I am?” He spits out, clutching his nose as a small trail of blood trickles out from his right nostril. You step into his personal space, a finger jabbing his chest. “I don’t care who the fuck you are… you ever touch any woman again like you did tonight, I’ll string you up by your balls for the whole of Rutshire to see.” You sneer, digging your nail into his chest, to really hammer the point home to him that you were not playing around. He looks at you gone out, like he can’t believe what had just taken place, that someone had actually stepped up to him, even more so that he didn’t even know your name or who you were other than the hired caterer for the night. You hear someone clear their throat from behind you, Rupert still holding his nose. It’s Freddie. You suddenly go sheepish, already knowing that however much Freddie seemed to like you, he was probably not going to be ecstatic that you’d punched one of his dinner guests.
“Freddie! I’m sorry… I’ll pay for Cameron’s suit, I promise. I know how much this night meant to you and-” He cuts you off with a hand held up, you braced yourself to receive the absolute grilling of your life, for him to say you and Taggie were not getting paid and to tell you to shove it and that he never wanted to see you again. All that… doesn’t come though. He raises his other hand, showing the jacket you wore that day, not even bothering to check on Rupert and his injury. “You just forgot this, love, didn’t want you to be cold on the drive back, especially with how small that little dress is.” He walks over to you, holding out the jacket to you, standing so close your chests nearly touched. Your hand slightly brushes his as you gently take the coat from his grasp, you give a breathy chuckle. “Thanks, Freddie.” You turn to join Taggie in the car where she’d gone to hide from what was happening, when Freddie puts a hand on your waist, a slight grip, not enough to hurt but enough to send your pulse racing, his mouth coming to lean into your ear. “Not only a good shot with a gun, are you, love?” He pulls away, looking down at you with a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. You peer up at him with the same mischief, before smiling. “See you around, Freddie.” You finally open the car door, sliding into the driver’s seat, holding your hand out for Taggie to give you her keys. Putting them in the ignition, you take off down the long driveway of the Green Lawns, only glancing back through the rearview mirror to see Freddie still watching you from the top of the drive, his hands in his pockets, head thrown back laughing at Rupert’s misfortune, a small smile plays on your lips.
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Around a month after the dinner party, you’d seen Freddie in passing a few times, always with Valerie clinging to his arm like a life raft. She would pull him away from conversing with you when she’d heard that you had punched Rupert in the face at her dinner party. That action made you now public enemy number one in her book. Freddie would placate her by letting her lead him away but not before giving a little wink, making your heart flutter every time he did so. Lizzie mentioned the ‘Rupert incident’ to you in passing, praising you for sticking up for your friend. Why she was even friends with Rupert, you couldn’t begin to understand, but you didn’t feel it was any of your own business to pry.
Tonight was the night of Taggie’s parents, Maud and Declan O’Hara’s New Year’s Eve party slash their son Patrick’s 21st. Taggie was doing the food for the guests, which when she told you this, you’d frowned. You wished she would just take a night off for her own sanity. She’d also told you that she’d gotten a Christmas present from the boy she’d been missing from London, Ralphie. You knew she was excited to see him, gushing about it over the phone with you the other day. You’d offered to help with the food for tonight so she would have time to see him, but she’d told you that her parents had hired more staff to help so she just wanted you to enjoy tonight for yourself. When you’d tried to insist, she claimed it was her way of thanking you for defending her against Rupert the night of the dinner party.
So, you found yourself here, walking down the gravelled driveway of the Priory, a place you’d become accustomed to. Taggie hosting your movie nights here, and that night you had to sit in her bedroom with the radio on full blast to drown out the noises of her parents going at it after another argument. The sleek, expensive cars of other guests took up most of the space. A lone paparazzi stood by the side, getting photos of all the most known guests as they posed for him before heading in. You felt quite out of place, being not known to anyone and here alone, your heels sinking slightly into the ground. Making sure you hastily entered through the doors to avoid being seen in the background of any of the stars’ pap shots.
Looking around, you see a collection of people, some you recognise, some you don’t. Most of them you assumed Declan knew from Corinium, already spotting Tony and Lady Baddingham, but it wasn’t like you wanted or could go and strike up a conversation about something with them. You gently try and push through to find the upstairs bathroom, needing a moment for yourself. You manage to make it through quite easily, shutting and locking the door behind you. You put your clutch bag on the sink counter, your hands gripping the edge of it. Looking back at your reflection in the mirror. Taking a moment, you realised you were too in your own head. You had more volition to be here than most of them, being Taggie’s best friend.
Taking your bag back with a new sense of confidence, you leave the bathroom, walking down the elegant staircase, still trying to find someone in the crowd you liked and actually could speak to, scanning the crowd as a man moved further into the room. It revealed him… Freddie dressed in a sleek black suit, a neatly tightened bow tie replacing his usual business one, a whiskey in one hand and a cigarette in the other. He nearly dropped the latter on the floor when his sight gazed on you. Your breath catches in your throat, as you see him staring at you as you descend the stairs. You don’t look away from his eyes, your body not allowing you to as the sheer intensity of it feels like a magnet. He exhaled the smoke out from his lips. Valerie next to him following his eye-line and spotting you before smacking his arm to bring his attention back to her, probably complaining to him while doing so. Only then does he take his eyes off you, still stealing quick glances the further you get down the stairs, so fast you’d miss them if you weren’t paying so much attention to him.
You hear the chime of a bell, welcoming you and the rest of the guests for the dinner service, everyone grabbing their wives and children to get them into the room. As you get into the extravagantly set-up dining hall, set up with a stage and DJ set up off to the side, playing background music. You walk around trying to find where your place card is set and your face falls when it is revealed someone in the universe wants to play a trick on you and has sat you next to Rupert. As if conjured by magic, he slides next to you, a smirk on his face and a drink in hand. “Well, darling, I’ll sit next to you if you promise to keep your hands to yourself tonight. I had to cancel my monthly fox hunt because my nose was swollen to the high heavens.” You snort, the mental image of that giving you too much joy to be morally respectable. “Let’s both promise to keep our hands to ourselves, why don’t we?” You slip into the chair, a waiter coming to fill the champagne flutes on the table. He sits next to you, the gold ring on his pinkie glinting in the light as he places his glass down on the table. “I do have to say though, bloody good punch. After reflection… and Freddie laughing at me for a solid twenty minutes.” He gives you a knowing look. “You were well within your right to do what you did. It was in poor taste.” A self-triumphant smirk rests on your face, feeling vindicated that you’d at least taught him a lesson in humility that night… how long the effect of it would last you didn’t know. “Well, thanks for being man enough to admit that, I guess.” He chuckles, clearly not being used to admitting his wrongdoing. “You’ve spoken to her since Christmas, yes?” He asks. You nod in answer. “Did she like the bracelet I got her?”
You whip your head around to look at him, a bracelet? Like the one Taggie’s been gushing over, thinking it was from the boy from London? “Oh shit. Excuse me…” You get up from the table, leaving Rupert confused, as you run out of the dining room through to the kitchen to find Taggie. She was putting the last finishing touches on Patrick’s cake when you barrelled in, slightly gasping at the speed you got from the dining hall. “The bracelets from Rupert!” That made her turn to look at you, a look of hesitation. “It’s not from that boy, it’s from Rupert! What are you going to do, Tag?” You watch her look at the bracelet and off into the distance, looking down at it once more. Your eyes search her for any indication of what she might do with this new information, the only reaction you get is her taking the bracelet off and putting it near the sink tap. While you’d like her to throw it away with no hesitation, you were still her best friend and would support whatever she decided to do, you knew she was a smart girl, she’d do what was best for herself.
“I’ve got to take this cake in for Patrick, we’ll speak about this later…” You nod, letting her past as her and another staff member take the cake through the kitchen arch. You let out a sigh, it wouldn’t be an event in the world of Rutshire without some sort of drama…
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You sit in one of the Priory’s guest rooms, taking a moment from the festivities now the clock had officially hit twelve. You sit on the edge of the bed, staring out the window, catching fireworks in the distance from other New Year’s festivities. The adrenaline from the night’s revelations starts to fade; you feel lighter but still picturing what this new year will bring you. You can still hear the commotion from the dining hall downstairs, the music floating in the air, making you smile. You are brought out of your thoughts by a soft knock at the door; you turn your head at the sound. “Come in.” You call out, the door creaking open as Freddie comes into view, a whiskey in his hand and an unreadable expression on his face. He closes the door behind him, taking a swig of his whiskey before smiling at you.
“Some party right, love?” You laugh, patting the open space next to you on the bed. “You can say that again…” You trail off, as he chuckles, low and rough, sinking into the bed beside you with a sigh. He hands you the whiskey glass, his moustache twitching, a brow raised at you. “You know what I noticed tonight, darlin’? You didn’t even touch any of the food, didn’t even get yourself a drink… too focused on others.” He glances at you, his usual playful expression back on his face but with something softer in his eyes. “You say it like it’s a bad thing. I care about the people around me… including you. I saw the way you were at the dinner party… what Valerie said to the table.” You shift to sit sideways so you were completely opposite him. “You don’t deserve that, Freddie, you…” You hesitate, knowing what you say next will completely open whatever you have between each other. “Are a brilliant man, and I think you don’t realise it sometimes or maybe… you aren’t reminded enough.” You put the whiskey glass on the side table, next to the bed before turning back to Freddie.
He places a large hand on the mattress of the bed, looking at you with something completely different in his face… something grateful. He chuckles, shaking his head slightly. “Can’t get anything past you, can I?” You put your own hand on top of his, the warmth from his calming you. “You are dangerous, love.” His smile widens, before leaning in closer to you, close enough for you to smell the faint hint of his recently smoked cigar clinging to the collar of his dress shirt. His knee brushing against yours, barely, but he doesn’t make the move to pull it away. “Dangerous? Really? Never been described as that before by anyone.” He tilts his head to meet your gaze, his eyes darkening with a hunger you hadn’t seen before. “Has anyone ever told you how fucking beautiful you are?” He asks, grabbing you in one swift movement, his hands settling on your hips as you straddle them. “No one that mattered as much.” You confess, your hands coming to rest on his shoulders to steady yourself, knowing you are now entering a very different territory. One that you won’t be able to come back from.
His mouth crashes against your own, all the unspoken words, all the gazes given when others aren’t looking - all thrown into the kiss. You moan against his mouth, your hands moving from his shoulders into his hair, kissing him back with just as much passion as he’d let you. He groans, deeply as you arch against him, his hands slipping from your hips underneath your dress, testing how far you’d let him touch. His body pressing against you, feeling his suit trousers start to get tighter as you continue to kiss him before breaking away for a moment, still keeping him close. “I’ve been thinking about doing that since you saw me in that stupid fucking maid’s dress.” He chuckles at your words, his hands moving to grip under your thighs, standing up and walking you over to the alcove under the window, the cold pane of it causing you to moan slightly. “Under the stars, don’t ever say I’m not a romantic at heart, darlin’.” You giggle, pushing your back slightly off the window as he pulls the strap of your dress off your shoulder. His hand skims down your arm, bringing the strap with him, he places you gently on the seat underneath you both. You take your hands off him to grab the other strap on your other arm, bringing it down, as he guides the dress of your body, revealing the lingerie underneath. He throws it over the room, already forgotten as he leans down to trail kisses and nips at your skin, pressing against you hard, groaning at how you cling to his broad shoulders. “Beautiful, so bloody beautiful sweetheart.”
He captures your mouth once again, soft and sweet, his hands trailing everywhere he can, before breaking away briefly to look into your eyes. “Tell me what you want, love, give you anything you want.” You give him a low smile, your hand resting on his chest through his shirt, just above his heart. “Just you, Freddie, just yourself will always be enough for me.” He stills for a moment, not really knowing how to process your words, not being used to hearing anything like that said to him in a good few years. He picks you up once again, placing you over his lap, as your hands trail down his chest, moving to his trousers. He groans, his hands wrapping into your hair, taking in every detail he can of your face. You open the button of his trousers and pull the zip down as he kisses you again, moving from your hair to draw a path down your spine, dragging you flushed against him with a vigour that makes you breathless.
You pull out his length, wrapping a hand around him as his breathing gets ragged at the contact. He adjusts his position, both hands splaying across your back, gripping the skin softly. He moves the fabric covering your heat across, not being able to hold back any longer, your earlier words hitting his heart dead centre. “You are testing every inch of my self-control, you know that?” He smirks, holding you right where he needs you, his tip just brushing against you, making you shiver with the anticipation of what you know is about to happen. He pulls you down, finally being sheathed inside of you, his upper body dropping back against the soft cushion of the alcove seat, your hands steadying yourself on his chest before rolling your hips once, letting out a soft gasp. He grips your hips, moving them, keeping up with your own movements. His own hips shifted under your body, bucking up to meet yours, letting out another groan at the feeling of you around him.
His fingers no doubt leaving red marks on your hips as you continue to ride him, the overwhelming heat and pleasure seeing you moving above him almost being too much to handle. He leans up off the cushions to sit up, pulling you closer, your nipples brushing the fabric of his shirt through your flimsy bra, sitting skewed on his body. Your hands settle on his cheeks, your thumb brushing over his jawline, almost lovingly making his heart beat faster. “I’m going to come, Freddie, don’t think I can hold it.” You tell him breathlessly, the intimacy of the moment hitting you like a train going a million miles an hour, whimpering as you continue to ride to your peak. “Fucking hell, darlin’, do it, want to feel it.” He whispers against your lips, his thin gold chain peaking out from his shirt, the top buttons ripped open at some point in your activities, the metal glinting under the light from the night coming through the window. Those sultry words being all you need before letting the pleasure take over your body in waves, gripping Freddie’s shoulders, your nails digging into his skin through his clothing. As he recognises you coming undone, he holds you down on his entire length, moaning loudly as he follows you, the feeling of you clenched around him, tipping him just over the edge, his hips grinding up to yours as he rode out his own high.
Your body slumps gently down on Freddie’s, his arms coming to wrap around you, dragging you fully down to his chest, as he pants softly against your neck, struggling to catch his breath, making you huff out a laugh against him. He puts his arms around your waist, continuing to hold you close as he strokes your hair, the feeling grounding you back to the moment.
It’s around about a week since the New Year’s party. Your landline rings, expecting it to be a telemarketer call trying to sell you something. You pick up the phone… it’s Freddie.
“Freddie? I was just thinking about you…”
You can’t quite believe it…
“Really?”
“Yes.”
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