#I don't want to give too much away about her before the book but hopefully this is interesting to people!

[wileys-russo]

leah williamson 🫶

reader saying i like you instead of i love you to leah and leah getting annoyed

the bet II l.williamson

"do you want anything love?" your girlfriend murmured quietly where she was squished in beside you, about to get up to grab a drink where you were sat down for a movie night with some of your friends.

"another slice of pizza? please." you smiled hopefully which the blonde returned. "course, anything for you." she mumbled pecking your lips a few times sweetly causing your cheeks to warm.

"i love you." you sighed happily, both of you staring into one anothers equally as lovesick eyes. "i love you." leah whispered back kissing your nose. "i love you more." you grinned kissing her cheek. "i love you more." leah retaliated with a cheeky smile, pecking your lips.

"oh would ya give it a rest! shut up man." katie moaned from the floor, a pillow smacking the two of you in the head as the irish woman launched it your way.

"i love you most, end of." leah warned with a playful glare, kissing you softly again before grabbing the pillow and standing, swinging it with much more force than katie had as it thwacked her in the side of the head causing her to nearly topple over.

"oi!" you rolled your eyes with a snicker as the older girl shot up to her feet and chased your girlfriend out of the room, the sounds of their squabble echoing from the kitchen.

"you are down so bad." laura shook her from beside you as you gave her a strange look. "who taught you that? shut up!" you laughed quietly, knocking your shoulder into hers. "she's not lying. disgustingly in love!" beth fake gagged from on the other lounge.

"you're one to talk bethany!" you scoffed at the girls own neediness. "i do not shove my tongue down my girlfriends throat or feel the need to tell her i love her every thirty seconds!" beth defended herself, movie now forgotten.

"leave them be they are very sweet." lia chuckled as you sent her an appreciative smile before turning a frown on beth again. "i am not needy! and we don't do that." you huffed at the accusation.

"you do. i bet ya couldn't go one full training session without telling leah you love her or lockin lips!" beth challenged as your eyes narrowed and laura oohed beside you as again you shoved her.

"i could too! you're on mead, tomorrow." you accepted, beth settling back into the lounge with a satisfied grin as viv rolled her eyes at the theatrics.

~

"do you want a tea for the meeting babe?" leah asked sweetly as you played with her fingers where they were interlocked with your own under the table, everyone finishing up breakfast as todays session was an earlier one.

"yes please." you smiled appreciatively, leaning in to peck her lips but with a subtle kick to your ankle you turned your head to glare at beth as leahs lips fell to your cheek instead.

"forgetting something are we?" beth smirked as your girlfriend left and you remembered the bet from last night, sighing tiredly and shaking your head. "no! starts from now." you huffed, shoveling the last mouthful of your fruit salad into your mouth.

"you won't even last the first hour." beth teased with a smug smile as you ignored her and engaged lia in conversation instead. "here you go gorgeous." leah dropped back down in the seat to your other side with a smile, placing down the takeaway cup of tea in front of you.

"thanks baby." you hummed appreciatively, everyone starting to make a move for the meeting room. "i love you." leah smiled softly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "i appreciate you." you returned her smile, booping her nose with your finger.

~

"stop!" you whispered with a grin, shoving away leahs hand which wandered higher and higher up your thigh, the blonde giving you a cheeky smile seemingly in quite the mood today.

"no." leah whispered back, hand darting out to pinch you as you smacked her, the two of you resorting to playing footsies as the meeting continued.

"do you want to go for dinner tonight? i can call and book us in somewhere after this." leah asked quietly, arm now draped across the back of your shoulders as your hand rested on her knee, finger tracing absent minded shapes.

"yeah that sounds nice." you agreed, kissing her cheek quickly and turning back toward the staff at the front of the room. "i love you." leah whispered, finger dipping just below the collar of your training top.

"we could go to that new italian place that just opened? i'm sure they have a childrens menu for you baby." you teased, leah rolling her eyes playfully as you both paid closer attention once the defensive tactics came out.

~

"looking good number twelve." leah whistled as she wandered past where you were squatting, steph shooing her away as to not distract you as the two of you were partnered up to spot one another.

"away with you!" steph warned as leah sent you a wink and a wolfish grin over the australians shoulder and returned to her own program where kim was waiting for her.

but of course considering the mood leah was in it wasn't long before she was hovering nearby again, everyone now having broken off individually to stretch and cool down.

"hello sexy." leah dragged her mat over and sat right beside you where you were rolling out some tension in your hamstrings. "hi." you smiled, not missing the way her eyes roamed your legs as your free foot shot out to kick her.

"eyes to yourself thanks we're in a work environment." you teased, switching over to the other leg and exhaling as the knot you were working on slowly started to dissipate.

"not illegal to look now is it? don't think i could bare to exist in a world where i couldn't stare at you." leah cheesed with a charming smile, laid down on her mat.

"stop perving on me and start stretching williamson." you flicked her with your towel as her grin only grew but she focused a little more on her stretches. "i love you." your girlfriend sang out with a wink, grabbing her roller and starting to work on her calves.

"i love me too, so glad we have so much in common." you teased, well aware of beths eyes on you from the other side of the room as you gave her a sarcastic wave.

"i love you." leah repeated, a slight frown growing when you pretended not to hear her, turning to work on your other leg as you chatted away to laia who was on your other side.

"i love you." you felt your girlfriend poke at your shoulder and you could practically hear the pout in her voice as again you pretended not to hear. "ow! leah." you felt a sharp pinch to the back of your leg and glared at her over your shoulder.

"i love you. say it back!" the blonde scowled as you rolled your eyes. "don't pinch me when you don't get what you want, you're not a five year old." you warned, finishing your stretches and getting to your feet leaving her behind with a bewildered look.

~

"thats good thats good! now press in tighter leah, block off any options of them getting it in the air lotte." jonas called out, arms crossed as you sat on the sideline with your water bottle, the team split into four as a series of small 6 on 6 games were being played as a cool down.

"so, how are you surviving without all your love and affection?" beth slung an arm round you from where she sat beside you making you roll your eyes. "perfectly fine! see i told you i could do it." you smiled victoriously.

"do what exactly?" alessia asked curiously from your other side with a raised eyebrow. "beth bet me i couldn't go all of training without kissing or telling leah i love her." you rolled your eyes as alessia hummed and beth made kissy noises at you.

"well that makes sense then." the blonde shrugged as you gave her a curious look. "what makes sense?" you questioned as beth finally left you be to annoy poor stina instead. "you haven't picked up on it?" alessia asked surprised as you shook your head.

"picked up on what?" "on leah!" "what about leah?" "how she's acting." "less i would appreciate it if you stopped speaking in riddles and explained yourself please."

"she's been grumpy all afternoon. even asked me if you'd said anything about being upset with her, and you've been avoiding her all training." alessia pointed out, taking a large scull of her water.

"well yeah because she looks like a kicked puppy every time she says she loves me and i don't say it back!" you groaned quietly as alessia smiled. "only proving my point that you are both disgustingly in love. its only been a few hours!" beth chimed in as you sent her a glare.

"less! don't encourage her." you smacked your friends knee as she grinned at beths words, the whistles blowing to end the session as everyone gathered around listening as the water bottles were passed around.

you could feel your girlfriends eyes burn a hole in the side of your head and it took every ounce of your self restraint not to turn to meet her gaze, skin prickling under the intensity of her stare as everyone was dismissed.

"now remember training doesn't officially end until you leave colney. no cheeky change room kisses!" beth warned with a wag of her finger and a grin as you pushed her off you with a huff and headed away back toward the training center.

"oi!" you heard the familiar accent call after you but pretended not to hear, walking a little faster as leah ran to catch up with you. "are your ears blocked today?" you skidded to a halt as leah popped up in front of you, arms crossed over her chest and scowl embedded into her features.

"maybe a little, hot shower might help." you tried to duck past her but had no luck as your body thumped into hers. "you're being weird. why are you being weird?" leah questioned, and you shot beth a glare over her shoulder as she waved at you happily.

"i'm not being weird. i'm just...tired." you lied with a small smile, patting her shoulder and stepping around her as her steps fell in line with yours easily, legs longer considering she was taller as again she stepped in front of you.

"okay. when we get home i'll run you a bath and give you a massage and we can take it easy babe, we can go for dinner another night." her hands gently fell either side of your face, eyes bright with concern as your stomach dropped with guilt.

"sounds good." you nodded with a smile, ducking as she leaned in to kiss you, her lips meeting thin air as you pried her hands off and hurried toward the training centre.

"babe!" leah huffed after you with a confused frown, concern melting into annoyance at your odd behavior as you spared her a glance over your shoulder and practically sprinted off away from her.

it didn't take long before she cornered you again, towering over you at your cubby. "are you mad at me? did i do something? say something?" leah asked, eyebrows knitted together as you shook your head.

"then why are you being so weird! you won't kiss me, you won't tell me you love me, anytime i try to speak to you you run away?" leah threw her hands up with a deep exhale and yet another signature scowl.

"yeah, you are being pretty weird! why is that?" beth decided to chime in, false concern written on her face as leah agreed and set her glare down onto you. "baby. i'll explain when we get home, promise." you stood and squeezed her bicep.

"kiss me." leah demanded, tapping her lips expectantly. "leah!" you blushed, well aware of more of the girls tuning into your conversation. "what? you don't normally care unless we're in the middle of a game or a session. so, kiss me." your girlfriend demanded again as beth grinned and wiggled her eyebrows.

"i can't. i've got a...a cold sore. so we should get home!" you grabbed your bag and tried to leave but the taller girl moved to be in the way. "you didn't complain about a cold sore this morning." leahs eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"its only come up today." you lied, clutching your jaw with a fake wince of pain as alessia shook her head from behind leah at the display. "fine. i love you." leah spoke, raising an eyebrow.

"i value you." you replied with a soft smile which did nothing to melt the annoyed frown in her features. "i love you." she repeated again, tapping her foot impatiently.

"i appreciate you." "i love you." "i really like being with you." "i love you." "i really like you." "i. love. you." leahs jaw clenched as beth watched on with delight at your obvious struggle as the changing rooms started to empty, viv and alessia watching on with a wince at the awkward exchange.

"thank you?" you tried every way you could to get around it, though that last response seemed to be the final nail in the coffin as the vein in your girlfriends neck looked ready to pop.

"really? you can walk home then!" leah spun around on heel, having driven the two of you today, and started to storm towards the exit as alessia shoved you from behind and gestured toward leah.

"wait!" you called after her, the blonde pausing but not turning around as you chanced a glance to beth whose smile almost looked like it was hurting her it was so wide.

"i made a bet with beth." you sighed, leah spinning around and eyes narrowing as she strode on back toward you. "you what?" the older girl stopped once again chest to chest with you.

"beth wouldn't stop teasing me about how affectionate we are and calling me needy, so she bet me that i couldn't go one training session without saying i loved you or kissing you." you admitted, the defender scoffing.

you prepared yourself for her to rant and rave, to yell and scold, to drive home without you and for a night to be filled with grovelling.

what you didn't prepare for was for leah to look right over your head, glare directed not at you but at beth who paled at the sight. "beth." leah dropped her bag to the floor and gently moved you aside, fists balled by her side.

"five, four, three-" leah started to count down, beths eyes widening as she looked around the room, jumping to her feet and running off as leah took off after her. "leah!" you called after her with a groan, hearing them start to argue outside.

"huh, that was not what i expected." alessia pondered as you sighed, grabbing both your bag and your girlfriends and hurried off. "really?" you stepped out of the change rooms to find leah had beth in a headlock yelling at her, the shorter girl fighting to throw her off.

"leah!" you called out, both of them stopping at your words, beth still locked up in your girlfriends arms. "i love you very very very much. can we go home now please? and i'll show you." you spoke calmly, your girlfriend instantly perking up at your words as beth groaned in disgust at the not so hidden intent behind them.

"oi!" the girl yelled as leah let go but not before pushing her to the floor, ignoring the colorful language hauled her way as viv appeared and helped her up, a smile of amusement painted on her lips having already tried to warn beth against meddling between the two of you.

"hey you lost the bet!" beth yelled after you in reminder as leah grabbed her bag and slung an arm over your shoulder steering you toward the exit. "yeah i did. but we didn't actually bet anything for if i lost beffy, have a nice night!" you grinned at her as her jaw dropped in realization.

"come here." leahs soft voice commanded your attention, her hand grabbing your jaw and tilting your head to the side, her lips ravishing yours as whistles sounded after the two of you at the display.

"leah." you pulled away with a slight blush as her tongue swirled the inside of your mouth and she sucked on your bottom lip before dragging her teeth down to release it with a slight pop, smirk present in her features.

"what? you've got a lot of making up to do baby girl."

[bunnyhugs77]

Valentine Vixen

★Pairing: Stripper! Reader x Rich! Jungkook

★Happy Valentine's Day, Mwah

★WC: 3k

★Content: some fluff, clubbing, jk is so cute, he gets flustered, teasing, mutual pining, ft player! tae, reader is so hot, mentions of break ups, lap dances, double life, suggestive themes, a smidge of angst, brief psychology talk, mentions of boobs.

Other Content: desperate kisses, domme reader, hand jobs, grinding, almost cumming in pants, oral sex (m! receiving), subby jk. handcuffs, desperate jk, reader is a tease, nicknames, manhandling

"Look, that's her." With a subtle jut of his head, Jungkook directs Taehyung's line of sight about twenty meters off into the distance where you step up on the step ladder to shelve more novels.

Tae's eyes widen ever so slightly before his face relaxes into an all-knowing smirk, "So this is what's got you spending so much time at the library lately?" Jungkook shoves him in the side and you pretend not to notice the two of them obviously staring at you.

Letting your short acrylics graze over the spines of the paperbacks, pinpointing where the book in your hand should go. "I can't see her face from here, but I know a nice ass when I see one," Tae states obnoxiously and it makes Jungkook's face turn sour.

"C'mon, Tae." The elder rolls his eyes, "Lighten up. It's just a joke. Hopefully, tomorrow will help you chill out a bit." With an arched brow, Jungkook turns to face his best friend. "Tomorrow?"

"It's Valentine's Day, and I think it's about time you got some ass, Kook. Seriously, when's the last time you had a nice pair of tits in your face, huh?" Jungkook's cheeks flush but he does think about Tae's question.

After no more than a second had passed Tae interrupted his thoughts, "See. You can't even remember, don't worry. That's why I'm here. You're bound to get your dick wet at Red Haven tomorrow, the dancers there are next level." Tae raves, hands waving around to express his eagerness.

Red Haven was the new club that opened not too far from campus but it attracted a lot more than just some touch-deprived university students. Men were ranging from the ages of twenty-one to sixty-five.

"But-" Jungkook was about to object but Tae had picked up a call, reassuring the person on the other end of the line, "Maria, you know you're the only girl in my life." He coos and his face freezes, "Oh shit, this is Jessica? Baby, I was just joking. I don't even know a Maria." Tae walks off trying to save himself from the deep hole he'd dug himself into.

Leaving Jungkook at the table by himself once again, his eyes naturally gliding back to where you once were but he couldn't see you. His feet guided his brain over to the bookshelves where you once stocked away hardcovers.

He stops in his tracks as he lays his eyes on a certain book that caught his eye. 

In your head

"That's a good choice." You startled him, the book slipping from his grasp and hitting the ground. The two of you reach down for it at the same time which in practicality wasn't a good idea. The impact of your heads colliding nearly knocked you to your feet.

"I'm so sorry," He apologizes, gaze checking in on you while you worked on picking up the novel off the floor. "I should be the one saying that. I didn't mean to scare you." You say, finally making eye contact and nothing could stop Jungkook from holding his breath.

You're breathtaking.

Beautiful dark brown eyes that held the most innocently seductive eye contact. The way your tan skin dimpled in your cheeks and the perfect formation of waves that your hair mimicked as it flowed down your shoulders.

"I've seen you around here a few times but I never got your name." Jungkook does his best to be subtle as he fishes for your name. It wasn't exactly the most discreet but you think it was a cute effort.

"I'm Y/n," You smile, handing him the book back and he just about collapses inside. Anything you wanted he would give it to you, and he's rich, he could make it happen. God, he would make sure you never had to lift a finger around him.

"I'm J-" It seems he didn't need to introduce himself because you already seemed to know him. "-Jungkook, right? The Dean's son." He sighs, of course.

That's how everyone knew him.

Being the son of the dean at the most prestigious university in the country wasn't something easy to escape. It continued to precede him anywhere he went. "Have you read it?" Your perfectly manicured finger points towards the book now in his possession and he nods.

"It's incredible, the way it examines the interplay between conscious and unconscious desires. I think it's pretty amazing." You blink once, then twice. "Don't pin me for the reading type, right?"

"Honestly, no, but trust me, I'm the last person who should be judging based on first impressions." He smiles at the sound of your soft chuckle. "Do you like psychology?" Your gaze now focused back to the shelves, "I hope so, I wouldn't want to be taking that major and not like it." You turn to him.

"You're a psychology major?" The tone of your voice gave away your disbelief but he wanted to know why this was so shocking.

"Yeah?"

"Weird. Usually, we would've had at least one class together if we shared the same major." He swallows thickly, briefly zoning out because he realizes he is talking to you. Finally, after months of watching you from a distance, trying to work up the nerve to approach you.

Getting too stuck in his thoughts, he loses his ability to speak. Settling for a hum of agreement. You sigh, disappointed. "What a shame. I would've liked having a cutie in my class like you." Your finger gently traces along his jaw and it feels like fire against his skin.

Before he could blink you were strutting away. Hips swaying like you were on a runway, he licks his lips. He'd never fumbled so badly before, but your beauty was something entirely different. It made him disoriented. He needed to get a grip.

Who would've thought the cute library assistant was so...tempting?

★★★

"Hey, Kook! I don't know If I'll be able to stay with you much longer. The bartender is giving crazy fuck me eyes and I can't leave her disappointed now can I?" Tae grabs his friends by the shoulder amidst the crowd of moving bodies.

"What about Maria?" Jungkook questions, referring to the woman Tae had spent all day before this one buttering up in hopes she would forgive him. Tae shrugs, "She'll forgive me again." Jungkook scoffs as he watches the silver-haired man travel through the sea of bodies.

Sometimes he couldn't believe that was his best friend, but he had to remember he wasn't always like this. This was just some terrible hoe phase he was going through.

He had gotten out of a 3-year-long relationship with Yara no more than 3 months ago and he's been on some sort of fucking spree ever since. He claims he feels so 'free' but deep down he was hurting and Jungkook knew that, but Tae refused to admit it.

But what could he do? It was a canon event and he couldn't interfere, even though he tried to once. Didn't end well. Tae was on a hunt for as many women as he could get, and he knew that eventually he would get sick of it and regain his senses.

His mind was pulled out of his thoughts once the entire venue went black for a few moments and the music was shut off. Jungkook was confused, maybe even a bit scared but it seemed there was no need to be as the crowd roared to life.

It seems they knew something he didn't.

"Introducing Red Haven's Vixens!" The announcer's voice rang through the speakers but the crowd was so much louder.

Jungkook was deep into the middle section of the audience so it was hard for him to get a clear view of the stage but he could see eight beautiful women walking onto the stage, in outfits he could probably use to floss.

There were so many colours on the stage. It was as if he'd died and been brought to the end of the rainbow where the sexiest guardian angels waited to bring him to heaven. Although there was one that piqued his interest.

All the girls were wearing some form of unique face paint that was accessorized with rhinestones, each one matching the general colour scheme of their outfits. There was something about the girl in the hot pink two-piece.

Jungkook fought to make his way to the front, face now up close to the base of the stage, looking up to the woman with hearts in his eyes. The way her hips swayed with the music, and her ass jiggled with each sharp movement.

She was a natural, with one hand on the pole she leaned back, looking right into the crowd. Her eyes scanned for a target before they landed on Jungkook as she began to grind your hips down onto it, making such a lewd expression.

She bit her lip and furrowed her brows just like one would as if they were close to- A shock ran through his body. It was you. Even with the gems and the paint around your eyes, he knew it was you, and by the slight smirk that crept up your lips, you knew he recognized you.

Once the performance was over Jungkook had found his way back to the front counter, eyes desperately scanning over the list of private sessions they offered. "How much would it cost for a room with the girl in pink?"

The clerk reminds Jungkook, "A private session grants you a private dance from one of our vixens. No touching of any kind is permitted unless granted by the Vixen, you must-" The rest of the rules were no brainers and Jungkook desperately wished he could fast forward the long speech.

"Got it. How much?"

"Well, Destiny is our Vixen of the highest demand, a 10-minute session could cost you up to five hundre-" Jungkook couldn't take it anymore. "I'll give you a thousand." He interrupts and the woman's jaw drops. She promptly hands him the key, "Third door on your left."

He'd been sitting in the nicely decorated room for the last five minutes. He was sitting on the chair that faced the door, his right leg bouncing uncontrollably. He was so nervous, and if he was being honest, he was already sporting a semi just from the thought of you walking through that door any second now.

The lights in the room flickered from the bright blue as it strobed to a gentle purple before a deep pink. The door opened, and there you were. In the same outfit you'd worn on stage except this time the music had changed to Wild Side.

"It is you." Jungkook gasps cutely as you take confident strides towards him. "Right, you are." Your heels made you tower over him once you stood before him.

"B-But- why?" You laugh, "The same reason why billions of other people have jobs. I've got an expensive tuition that won't pay for itself." He frowns, speaking before thinking. "I'll pay for it." You give him a playful roll of your eyes before you bend at the waist, bringing your face close to his.

"You're lucky you're so cute." The mere proximity was making Jungkook's brain get mushy and hazy with lust. He wanted you so badly, would do absolutely anything to have to, anything you said.

"Now, let me see those hands." You order and just like a dog to its owner, he follows instructions immediately, his hands out in front of you and you slowly walk around him, taking one hand then the other and handcuffing them behind his back.

He doesn't even remember seeing you walk in with handcuffs then again there was a lot about tonight that he didn't see coming. Like how smoothly you were able to straddle his lap and begin a slow, deep grind.

"So I really can't touch you at all?" Your heart skipped a beat at the way he was almost pouting when he said it. "You can try, but it's so much more fun this way. Watching you struggle to touch me." Your voice is as gentle as a whisper that should've been lost over the music but it was spoken right into his ear.

The feeling of your breath against the shell of his ear sends the hairs on the back of his hair to stand, and goosebumps to raise. He was rock solid in his jeans, although you already knew that. You could feel it. With every sensual roll of your hips, the man beneath you became a little more whiny.

"Do you think about me touching you?" Whipping your hair to the side as you leaned down intentionally close to his neck, making sure he felt your presence all over. His hips stutter under your set pace and it caused you to jolt slightly, "Fuck yes- Every day." He answers. Voice empty and high-pitched.

"Yeah?" You slowly slide off him, and let your knees hit the soft cushioned floor. You weren't doing anything, simply resting your arms on his knees and letting your head rest innocently on your hands.

How dare you look up at him like such an angel while you tempted him with a world of sin.

"Tell me, what do I do to you?" He sucks in a sharp breath as he feels your hand slowly glide up the inseam of his jeans. "You-" He gets distracted, losing his train of thought the moment your hand gently squeezes the thick muscle of his thigh, "Shit. You take my cock in your mouth and you suck me off until-" you squeeze his thigh once again, a little tighter this time.

"Hm? Until what? Until you cum in my mouth? Or on my chest?" Leaning back up, making an intimidating eye contact that Jungkook was unable to hold. "Look at me, Kookie." God. That nickname was so belittling, made him feel like he was being teased, but oh how he loved it.

"Until What? Say it." You grit, your hand holding his face, just firm enough for your middle finger and thumb to press into his cheeks. "Until I cum in your mouth and you swallow it." He looked so ashamed to say it, but it only caused you to grin bigger.

"Can I touch you, Kookie?"

He nods, nods and nods. "Please." His voice was a mere whisper, and at a certain pause during the music, you could hear him fighting against his restraints.

Back on your knees, your hands worked skillfully on getting him out of his pants and pulling how his briefs, just low enough for his throbbing dick to be released. Already budding with precum, some of it sticking to the base of his shirt as it rests against his abdomen.

"Nice cock." You almost wanted to laugh at the cliché, but it was true. Jungkook really had the prettiest dick you'd ever laid your eyes on, and he was big too.

He doesn't respond, eyes focused on your every move while his cheeks tinted red. He was anticipating for the contact between your hand and his length, but he still wasn't prepared.

Sucking in a sharp breath as he watched you spit on it and proceed to flash him the most charming smile he'd ever seen. You wanted to kill him, and Jungkook was afraid you'd succeed.

Your hand languidly rose from base to tip, working him up but he didn't need that, he wanted to last. His hips bucked up with every motion of your hands, "Relax," You coo, hand continuing its ministrations while Jungkook's head fell back. Hands still fighting against the cuffs desperately.

"a-ah." he moans so sweetly as your lips unexpectedly place a chaste kiss on his tip. Eyes shooting wide open, "Shit- 'm not gonna last." He warns but you continue anyway. Letting your tongue swirl around his tip like your favourite popsicle.

"Y/n-" His groans became more breathless and frequent, "Oh shit- Y/n-" Being ambitious you relaxed your throat and took deep breaths through your nose as you deepthroated his length. Fondling his balls in your left hand as you continued to work the base that you couldn't fit with your right.

That was it for him.

Jungkook's hot cum was filling your mouth with no further warning and the sound of the clashing metal rang in your ears, you grin. Looking up at the man who you've just ruined.

He blinks down at you with no thoughts behind his eyes, you maintain eye contact and swallow. He groans; and just to make sure you made his dreams come true, you stick out your tongue when you're done.

You stand, and the song changes once more, now playing sex with me.

How fitting, you think.

You uncuff Jungkook's wrists and with all the strength in his body, he tugs you back down to his lap. "Let me kiss you," A big strong man like him had just manhandled you to his will yet here he was still asking for your permission.

Good boys deserve treats.

You lean in, tilting your head to the side as your lips meet in a lustful exchange of saliva and desperation. This was all Jungkook needed. His hands unconsciously roamed down your backside until they found comfort on the soft flesh of your ass. Giving it a confident grip, you moaned into the kiss.

The two of you hardly pulled away, kissing like you wanted to become one. The way your body rolled against his and he pushed up into you.

"Can I fuck you?" He looked up to you with stars in his eyes and he was just the cutest thing, just as you wanted to answer, the lights strobe back to their default blue colour.

Slowly, you dismount him. Pretending that you weren't soaking through your costume. "Next time," You leaned down to drop a kiss on his cheek and begin to make your way out, "Happy Valentine's Day." You flash him one last wink and walk out of sight.

Happy Valentine's Day ♡

[reiderwriter]

For some reason my comments don't come through on your posts, but I want to first say I absolutely love your writing and I'm so happy your requests are open!! 🥰😭 So I've had this idea of a fluff mixed with spencer angst where reader is maybe interning at Diana's facility (not a dr yet, studying) and becomes close with Diana by reading, chatting, etc and Spencer over hears it from time to time and the dialogue between spencer and reader gets too close for Spencers comfort, but Diana wants her around more. Thank you again for your hard work okay bye!

A/N: I've never written a fic with Diana in it before, so this was a bit of a challenge for me, bit I enjoyed writing it a lot! Hopefully, this is somewhat like what you wanted!! ❤️

Warnings: Spencer is a bit dense (real) and puts his foot in his mouth (metaphorically, of course).

Diana Reid's son was exactly the way she described him, down to the tiny curls at the base of his neck and the glimmer of intelligence in his eye. 

After four weeks interning at the care facility while working on your medical degree, you'd spent a considerable amount of time with your favorite patient, and her stories about her son were legendary. 

At first, you weren't sure whether to believe the woman when she said her son was a genius with an IQ of 187, three PhDs, and a job in the FBI. She wouldn't be the first schizophrenic patient to muddle up her facts, but she certainly was the sweetest. 

So when you recalled your conversation with the head nurse later that day, she laughed and confirmed every story about Doctor Spencer Reid. Your mouth hung open in shock because surely nobody that incredible could just be out walking the streets. 

Another month of conversations about the man, and you were half in love with him. He wrote his mother letters every day - hand wrote them, even - and she's shown you a few. He'd talked about his friends, his team, his jobs, and how he was saving lives. And when one of the latest ones dropped in the news that he'd be free for a visit soon, you found yourself overflowing with anticipation. 

Of course, you felt like you already knew the man. You knew what his first words were, what his favorite toy was growing up, and even about the exploits of his first date, as pitiful as it was. What you didn't know was if Diana was passing along similar information about you. 

The day Spencer Reid finally showed up, he took your breath away. You were mostly in awe of Diana's ability to describe her son perfectly, though you'd grown fond of her perfectly professional English Lecturer tone of speaking over the last few weeks. She was practically lyrical when talking her son into existence. 

“His hair curls beautifully. He's my little adonis. He keeps it too long though, I'm always telling him he needs to cut it because it hides too much of his face,” she'd told you one day before picking her book up and ignoring you for the next half hour. 

“My Spencer is delightfully tall. He's a little bit spindly like a spider. He's not the most grateful, that's for sure, we used to call him crash because he was always bumping into things. Poetic, right?” 

You knew from the second he walked through the door that this man was him. 

Tall, slightly hunched, clutching his satchel strap in his hand, terrifyingly handsome and making your hand jump into your throat. Definitely him, and definitely a problem. You'd have to check the code of conduct about falling hopelessly for a patient's beautiful son. 

If you had any doubts, this was Spencer in front of you though, when he bumped into a chair just as he was about to reach his mother, it was confirmed. 

“Diana, I believe your Crash is here,” you smiled and giggled, watching her turn quickly to greet her son. 

You, too, gave him a warm smile, but he seemed a little hesitant to return it, instead greeting his mother softly and sitting with her while you retreated slightly to give them some privacy. 

You hovered in the space, as Diana had been talking about introducing the two of you all week, and you didn't want to distress her if she couldn't find you close by. 

But though Spencer was closely attentive and soft with his mother, he took brief pauses to stare almost frustratedly at you. You weren't sure what it was, but something about you was setting Spencer on edge, and that in itself was unsettling you as well. 

“Oh, Spencer, you must meet our Y/N. Y/N, come here, this is my son, Spencer.”

Slightly more apprehensive now, you held out your hand to shake his, “I've heard so much about you  it's nice to finally be seeing you in person, Doctor Reid.” 

He didn't shake your hand, though, but awkwardly waved it off quickly, leaving you to awkwardly replace it by your side. 

“Nice to meet you. Are you a new attendant? I asked all updates about my mother's companions to be confirmed and passed on to me, patient and carers included.” 

His tone was business-like and clipped, and you could see a gentle annoyance settling on his features. 

“I'm sorry, Doctor Reid, I thought Diana would have told you in a letter, or the administration would've passed it on. I'm a medical student on an internship.” You felt like you'd been chastised by an irate parent though he'd at no point raised his voice or indicated in his words any sense of anger at all. His eyes burned across your skin, though, and you felt a flame heat your skin under the weight of his stare. 

“You're mother has told me a lot about you though, she reads me your letters sometimes, between our discussions of Marjorie Kempe.” 

“My letters? Mom, we've talked about this. Those are private.” You looked at the quiet disappointment on Diana's face and felt protective over the woman all of a sudden.

“Please, I'm sorry for overstepping, but your mother is just very proud of you. She talks about you a lot actually, and your job-” 

“With all due respect, Y/N, the last time my mother talked to a new friend about me, he traveled to Virginia and shot one of my friends, so this really is a conversation I'd rather not be having.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach as he turned back to his mother and started talking to her gently again about personal security, effectively dismissing you from the conversation. 

You'd had stupid hopes for Spencer Reid, and that's all they would ever be. 

Reid talked on, and you left him alone with his mother, though she seemed distracted by your departure. 

“Spencer, that wasn't nice. Look at that poor girl. She's close to tears.”

“What? Mom, are you even listening to me?” 

“No, and I likely won't until you go and apologize to Y/N. She's a pretty girl, Spencer, and she was very excited to meet you.” 

“Pretty…. Mom, please.” 

“What, do you disagree? You think I don't know you well enough to know when a girl would suit you well? Or do you think I'm blind to the fact that you were stealing glances at her before she introduced herself.” 

Spencer went quiet at having been caught, and he hated to accept that maybe his mother was right. 

It was true as well that the care facility had informed him of medical interns coming and going in the next few months, and really, she wasn't to blame for his mother being fond of him. 

He was glad, though, that neither of them had noticed the ten minutes he'd spent just outside the large sitting area watching them talk. He'd been obviously taken aback to see someone new so close to his mom and his mom similarly comfortable. He felt even worse for the fact that for a solid minute and a half, he'd stared at the girl with no other thought in his head than the sound of his heart skipping a questioning beat. 

He'd pulled himself out of it eventually, but only when another nurse had come along to ask him if he'd actually be visiting his mother today or just dropping in to check on her. 

And then he'd bumped into that infernal chair when he was so fixated on getting to them, and she'd opened her mouth and called him crash, and his heart had sank. 

He reminded himself it was neither of their faults and inwardly cursed himself for being so unfriendly with someone who'd taken such good care of his mother recently. 

He promised himself that he'd talk with his mom and then go and find the woman, and apologising for being such a brute. 

“Spencer, are you listening to me, or are you busy daydreaming about my nurse?” 

“Mom!” 

“You're plain as day, kiddo, you'll never get anything past me. Now please, leave me be, I'm reading. Come back later if you must, but for now, take this to Y/N for me, please. She left it with me to read this morning, but I'm not in the mood for Medieval Romance right now.” 

It was a blatant lie, but a dismissal nonetheless, and Spencer quietly took his chance to search for you in the halls. 

The head nurse humorously pointed him in the right direction without him asking, much to his annoyance, but he persisted and lightly tapped on your shoulder to greet you. 

“Oh, Doctor Reid, hello again.” You smiled a little smaller this time, still polite, but he watched the way it didn't reach your eyes and felt like a jackass all over again. 

“My mom told me to come return this book to you.” He held out the book, and you quietly took it, folding it into your arms and hugging it tightly against your chest as you both stood there silently after the exchange. 

“I'm sorry, as well. I wasn't exactly very friendly back there, because-” 

“It's okay, Doctor Reid, you really don't have to explain. I overstepped, it's my fault and it won't happen again.”

“Are you kidding? My mom hasn't looked that relaxed in years. Please keep overstepping.” 

Your smile widened slightly at the compliment, and Spencer's tongue kicked into hyper drive immediately at the sight, even as his brain powered off. 

“You're pretty,” he blurted out, stopping only as his brain caught up with his tongue before firing off again. “My mom said you're pretty. I agree as well, though, you have a nice smile, and it's better when you don't force it. Not that I'm telling you how to smile, though. I don't know why I'm telling you this, but my mom made me come over here and talk to you, even though I'm pretty sure that's her book and not one you loaned her.” 

He took a moment to catch his breath as you blinked at him in confusion, heart beating rapidly even as you heard the blood rushing through your ears. 

“If you're free now, would you want to grab a coffee? Unless you have a boyfriend. Or husband. Or girlfriend or wife, I guess, I don't mean to presume. But if you're free, as in time, and free as in, like, relationship wise, I'd like to buy you a coffee to thank you for listening to my mom.” 

He finally stopped, and you stared wondrously at the reddened skin of his cheeks as he held his breath, waiting for your reply. 

“You want to take me out for coffee to thank me?” 

“Yes.” 

“And on a separate note, I'm pretty, and you want to know if I'm in a relationship?” 

“I'm sorry, you don't have to tell me, I'll just see myself out. It was a stupid idea anyway-” 

“No, wait, Spencer! Let me… let me grab my coat. My lunch break is in half an hour, and I'm sure it'll be okay to take it early.” You held his arm for a second, stepping slightly too close for comfort before realising yourself and taking a tiny step back.

He stood and blinked in your direction, as though wondering seriously for a moment what your lunch break had to do with him. 

“Are you going to stand there staring at me, or are we going to go out?” 

“You're serious?” 

“I guess…. I guess I am.”

“And you're… you're single.” 

Your mouth went dry as his skin finally completed its transformation from vampiric to tomato red. You desperately hoped your own embarrassment wasn't equally as readable on your face. 

“Quite single. Medical students don't have that much time to date.”

“Neither do FBI agents.” 

“Perhaps a subject we could talk more about later?” 

“Definitely.” 

[doctorwhoandfairytaillover]

What Makes a Home

Summary: When Sirius Black was still in Hogwarts, there were few places that he could ever feel that he truly belonged. At Hogwarts, with his friends, and a secret place that he held ever so dear. Somewhere he couldn't bring himself to talk about.

Pairing: Sirius x Aunt Reader (PLATONIC)

A/N: I was inspired a lot by the song Find You by Sing Street and listened to it a bunch when writing this story. I think at this point we can all assume that I like making cute stories where characters get to have nice mother like figures.

Growing up for a young Sirius Orion Black was a bit difficult, he was not very fond of the rules of the house of Black, which is why he tended to be on the receiving end of punishment quite often. But there were two places in the whole world that the young Sirius felt that he could freely be himself, Hogwarts and the home of his beloved aunt (Y/N) (L/N) nee Black. A name that was usually said with vitriol if ever spoken at home and avoided when in the company of other wizarding families for formal dinners. 

But despite all that, Sirius loved getting to spend time with his aunt and running over to her place from time to time, even if it was not as often as he would have liked. The boy's rebellious soul felt freedom from the rules of his parents and getting to experience the warmth of being loved by his aunt.

Which is why, with his heavy suitcase in hand, Sirius had made haste to leave Platform 9 ¾ as soon as the train stopped. He said his quick goodbyes to his friends and booked it before his mother and father arrived to take Regulus and himself back home. He knew that they would have heard about his school antics and not been pleased, so with nothing else to lose, he left. 

When he finally arrived at her home was fairly winded and the bouquet that he purchased was a bit worse for wear, but he did not care. With how lovely his aunt was, Sirius knew that she would be pleased at just having the chance to see him. 

Sirius knocked on the door and loudly said. "Auntie! It’s me! Sirius! Please open up!”

The door swung open and there stood the woman of the hour. “My sweet, sweet boy!” she pulled him into a tight hug and pressed numerous kisses onto his ruddy cheeks

Sirius dropped his suitcase and hugged her. He was immediately enveloped by the smell that always made him feel better, a cozy homey scent of chamomile tea, parchment, and ink. 

"I missed you!" He said, hugging her a little tighter and burying his face into her soft sweater.

“Oh! you're getting so tall, stay little for a while longer won't you?” 

Sirius couldn't stop the smile that appeared on his face when she stroked his hair. With a grin, he pulled away a little to look at her and said, "Well, it's not something I can stop you know. But for you I’ll try.”

“Come in, come in and give me that suitcase of yours, you must be tired!” She said ushering him through the door.

“Okay.” Sirius obeyed, picking up his suitcase and entering after her. He immediately dropped down on the sofa. “I’m knackered.” He sighed tiredly, tilting his head against the cushions.

“Oh my sweet boy, it's always good to have you here” she said while setting his suitcase off to the side.

“I wish I could stay here forever,” Sirius muttered, closing his eyes. It was cozy here, warm and comforting. He didn't even want to think about returning home.

“Let's not think of that just yet, hopefully I don’t hear from Walburga too soon” she said wiping her hands against her skirt. “I actually have your favorite cookies in the oven right now.”

"Mmm, now you've given me a reason to stay," Sirius hummed in response, opening one eye and looking up at her. "You spoil me too much auntie.”

“I don't spoil you enough!” she said pinching his cheek lovingly.

"Hey!" He protested, wrinkling his nose at her with a laugh. "You really spoil me a lot. I come to you every summer and you feed me non-stop in the time I get to stay with you. I'm afraid I’ll put on weight and won't be able to recognize myself if I keep it up."

“Good! Wards the girls away and I'll keep you to myself” she teased. 

Sirius laughed and rolled his eyes, amused. “You act like a mother more than my real mother! I wouldn’t mind you keeping me all to yourself, you’re my favorite after all.”

She smiled softly, “I would keep you here if I could, if only your mother wasn't such a witch.”

Sirius smiled back, enjoying her caresses and soft voice. However, the mention of his “mother” darkened his mood for a moment. “Don't even mention her... “ He muttered bitterly, turning away and sitting up.

“I know, I know” she said with a sigh. “Just give me a moment and I'll be back with those fresh cookies and a pot of tea”

"Okay." Sirius mumbled. 

When his aunt left, he leaned back against the sofa with a heavy sigh. He really didn't want to think about his mother. Not when here everything was so comfortable, warm and nice. Here he could be himself and not the Black heir.

It took several minutes for his aunt to return. In the meantime, Sirius was staring at the ceiling, tapping his fingers on his leg restlessly.

"Auntie," he spoke up as she walked over to the table, “you’re positive that Father or Mother hasn’t called about me?"

“No, not yet!” She said bringing along her tray of cookies and tea

Surprisingly, this news left a strange feeling in his chest. A little part of him, tucked deep in his heart, always wanted their attention and care. But, on the other hand, he knew he would be better off not seeing them at all. Not while they treated him only as the future Black heir and not as their son.

Sirius looked at her and smiled, "That’s good. I can have all the cookies to myself."

“You'll take some of these to your brother, won't you? I worry when Regulus doesn't come for a visit.”

Sirius rolled his eyes at the mention of his brother and muttered under his breath but still nodded in agreement. He's going to give some of the cookies to Regulus. "But if you worry about him so much, why don't you just tell him personally?"

She sighed and poured him a cup of tea, “He never answers my letters or calls, your mother certainly has her clutches on that boy.”

Sirius grimaced and accepted the cup of tea, wrapping his fingers around it. The warm liquid warmed him, and he took a small sip, “You’re not wrong about that. Mother has her claws in both of us.” He looked at his aunt, his expression slightly bitter. "Why does it seem that she's always hated us more and more over the years?"

“She's always been bitter over the littlest things, she was a real nag growing up” she said. “Try not to take it to heart.”

Sirius chuckled at that description. He could easily imagine his mother being bitter, just like his grandparents, and always finding something to complain about. "Is there a part of her that ever loved us, I wonder? At least Father sometimes acknowledges that we’re children.”

“I wish I knew the answer my sweet boy, but if as her sister, she refuses anything with me, then I wouldn’t know.”

Sirius nodded silently in response, wrapping his fingers tighter around the cup, feeling the warmth and holding it tighter. "Yeah... I hope Regulus is alright. I doubt anything good awaits him at home." He said bitterly and took a large gulp of tea.

“But enough about your mother, how was school this year? Any new friends?”

Sirius visibly brightened up when she changed the topic. He took another sip of tea before enthusiastically answering, "It was pretty cool, honestly. James and Remus are still my favorites, of course. But we found a new friend Peter, he's cool too. It's hard to be with us, though. We always get in trouble," he said with a chuckle, as if being in trouble was something to brag about.

“Not too much trouble I hope,” she teased.

Sirius shrugged, the corners of his lips tugging up in a smile. "Not too much trouble, just a normal amount. James, Remus, and I have gotten detention multiple times this year, and Peter only once. But we've had a lot of fun.” He chuckled again, feeling a pang of mischief in his chest as he mentioned the pranks. He definitely had no plans on telling her about their pranks on Snape.

“That's good, have fun while you're young because you don't want to wind up like your auntie do you?”

Sirius burst out laughing, rolling his eyes a little. He shook his head and said jokingly, “No, no, of course not. I don’t want to grow up to be a lonely old cat lady.”

“Watch yourself boy, it's one cat and two dogs, thank you.”

Sirius grinned like a little kid. He reached out to poke her in the cheek, which he has done since he was younger, and said with a mischievous tone, “Still seems like an old cat lady.”

The skittering of nails against wood caught his attention and in just a moment, his aunt’s corgi ran into the room through the doggy door and jumped up excitedly upon seeing the boy.Sirius laughed, seeing the corgi run up happily to him. He loved animals and dogs were no exception. He leaned down and patted the corgi on the head and scratched his ears, "Hey, buddy!"

The dog barked with excitement, wiggling in joy at seeing Sirius.

Sirius laughed again and scratched the dog's head vigorously, clearly enjoying the pup’s excitement. He looked up at his aunt and joked, “Well, I think the corgi clearly missed me more than you did.”

“Well these old bones of mine aren't going to jump in excitement if that's what you want,” she joked with a sip of tea.

Sirius smirked, he was amused by her comment and the corgi's behavior. "Are you trying to hint that you're an old woman, Auntie?"

“You're the one that called me old, young man” she wagged a finger at him. 

Sirius chuckled and said with a cheeky smile, "It was in a humorous manner, of course. I know you're still full of energy and still a hundred years younger than Dumbledore."

She laughed, “Dumbledore has been hundreds of years old even when I went to Hogwarts.”

Sirius laughed imagining Dumbledore being old already when she was at Hogwarts. He sat up a little, still petting the corgi, and said, "Yeah, he must've been a fossil even then."

The dog barked again, licking Sirius' hand and demanding attention. Sirius smiled and continued to shower the corgi with attention, scratching its head and ears, and even giving it a little rub on the belly. "You know, I'm quite jealous of the corgi," he said with a cheeky tone, looking up at his aunt, "It has all your attention."

A thoughtful look came over her features, “He was actually meant to be yours, you know.”

Sirius looked at her in surprise, the corgi still wiggling in his lap. He thought for a moment before saying in disbelief, “Really? But you’ve had Pudgy for years!”

She smiled sadly, “When you were 5, I hoped your mother would finally set our differences and let me come to your birthday even when I hadn’t received invitations to the previous ones. He was supposed to be your gift, but she said finally responded that time and said I was never allowed to come. Not even over her grave.”

Sirius' expression darkened at her words, the smile disappearing from his face. He could feel the familiar bitterness well up inside him as he listened to her story. The anger at his mother only grew. "I honestly don’t understand her…" he said quietly, his gaze fixed on the corgi. He petted the dog softly, “Why does she hate you so much? You’re her sister, and you’re so much nicer.”

“Married your uncle who was a muggle, remember?” She reminded him gently.

“It’s honestly ridiculous…” Sirius muttered under his breath. He never understood his parents' obsession with blood purity and the importance they placed on it. He looked back up at her with an upset expression, "It doesn’t change the fact that you’re family. She should have let you come on my birthdays or let me visit you more often than I do.”

“She thought I would be a bad influence on you. But I just wish she hadn’t been so bitter. Your uncle would have loved to know you” she said sadly.

"I would have loved to have him in my life too." Sirius muttered quietly, continuing to pet the pup who was still wiggling in his lap. He was quiet for a moment before he spoke up again in a slightly bitter voice, "She didn’t even let us come to his funeral, just because he was a Muggle."

A few tears slipped down her face even as she tried to keep smiling for his sake, “I know he wouldn't have held that against you, he was always so proud that his nephews would be wizards.”

Sirius felt that familiar pang in his chest as he watched her wipe away the falling tears. He had always known she was saddened by his uncle’s death, but he hadn’t realized just how much. He gently put a hand on her knee. "We probably would’ve been his favorite nephews," he said with a half smile, trying to lighten the mood.

She smiles at his comfort, “I actually have something that he asked me to set aside for you and Regulus.”

Sirius' expression was surprised as he listened to her words. He hadn't expected that his uncle would have anything left for him. He was both intrigued and curious, and his gaze became more attentive. "Really?" he asked, his grip on the corgi tightening slightly.

She nodded, “Just give me a moment and I'll go get it”

Sirius nodded and watched as she got up from her seat to go get the things his uncle had left for him and Regulus. He continued to pet the corgi, its soft fur helping to calm his anticipation.

While he waited, Sirius sat in his chair, thoughts swirling in his mind. He wondered what his uncle had left him and what significance it would have. The fact that his uncle had set aside something for him and his brother was unexpected, especially considering his mother’s bitter rejection of his aunt and the family's strict beliefs. Losing the boy’s attention, Pudgy the corgi waddled out of the room. 

“Here... it... is!” she said struggling a little beneath its weight.

Sirius laughed again, standing to help her with the heavy present. He looked down at it, intrigued, "What did Uncle even leave us, anyway?"

“I’m not sure, your uncle was so secretive about this thing. He wanted to be sure you wouldn't open it until you were 14 or mature enough for it.” 

Sirius’ eyebrows raised at her words, his eyes now fixed on the present. It was clear that it was something important. He weighed the box in his hands thoughtfully. "Well, only a few more years until I can finally find out then. What about Regulus? What’s in his?"

“Boy, don't play with me. Your 14th birthday was a few weeks ago and I think you’re mature enough,” she sassed. “And I wouldn’t know about Regulus' gift either, he said they were for the two of you.” 

Sirius' cheeks grew warm and he let out a sheepish chuckle. He wasn’t for much fuss about his birthdays and tended to forget about them. Feeling slightly embarrassed, he rubbed the back of his head and said with an amused tone, "Oh right, I guess I am a year older. It slipped my mind."

“Well, go on” she said encouragingly. “See what he left for you.” 

Sirius looked down at the present in his hands once again, his curiosity now growing. He took a deep breath, the weight of the present felt heavier than any Christmas gift he’d received before. He slowly began to unwrap the packaging, pulling off the paper and revealing the contents of the box.

The wrapping paper was tossed aside, but Sirius eyes were transfixed on what had appeared once it was removed. He stared at the gift in stunned silence for a moment. He didn’t know exactly what he’d been expecting, but it certainly hadn’t been this. He could feel his heart thumping in his chest and his mind whirling. He hadn’t been this speechless in ages.

His jaw dropped as he stared down at the guitar, amp, and leather jacket (his main focus despite the other knick knacks). His mind was in a flurry of thoughts and emotions, but there was one thing he wanted to do more than anything else. He reached into the box, gently pulling out the guitar and running his fingers down its surface. His hands trembled slightly as he held it, his mind already filled with visions of him performing with his friends.

“These were his,” she said softly. 

Sirius looked up at her, his eyes wide and full of wonder. He could never have expected that his uncle would give him something like this. He held the guitar tightly in his hands, his heart filled with gratitude. The knowledge that these gifts had once been a part of his uncle's life made them all the more special to him.

"He loved music so much, didn’t he?" He murmured, still awestruck.

“He loved it,” she said wistfully. “He once came with this guitar to serenade me and my father and sister were furious. How could a muggle come and traipse around the family home?” she laughed fondly.

Sirius chuckled, imagining a much younger version of his uncle playing the guitar and trying to impress his aunt and her family. To most pure-bloods, it would be a major disgrace to bring a muggle anywhere near their family home and yet it sounded like the most romantic, exciting thing in the world to Sirius. "I can only imagine the look on our family's faces.”

“Horrified!” she laughed, “but I loved it and couldn't imagine anyone else but him after that.”

Sirius felt his heart warm slightly as she laughed, the sound filling the room. He could sense the love and adoration she still had for his uncle.

It reminded him once again of the fact that he had lost the opportunity to really know his uncle.

"I wish he'd been around longer." He said quietly, his fingers tracing the strings of the guitar.

“I know, sweet boy” she placed a hand on his in comfort. “But he was sick and in so much pain, he couldn’t keep fighting it.”

Sirius felt her warm hand on his and his heart ached at her words. He knew that his uncle had been ill for a long time before he passed away, but he hadn’t really understood the extent of his pain. He nodded silently, trying to push down the feeling of sadness that was welling up inside him. He swallowed and his voice was hoarse as he quietly replied, “Yeah… I know…"

“But make sure to check the box, I know that he wrote you a letter too” she said confidently about what she remembered.

Sirius looked up at her, his eyes widened slightly. His thoughts were distracted from the sadness for a moment at the mention of his uncle's letter. He reached back into the box and began searching through the items in search of the letter. His fingers finally brushed against a folded piece of paper and he pulled it out, holding it carefully in his hand. He stared down at the letter, his heart beating in his chest. He could see the familiar writing of his uncle's name on the front, but he couldn't bring himself to immediately open and read it.

He looked back up at his aunt, his expression a mixture of trepidation and anticipation. "I'm... I'm not sure I'm ready to open this just yet..." he said quietly, his grip on the letter tightening.

“And that's okay, sweet boy” she said softly. “You can read it whenever you're ready, that letter is for you only.”

Sirius nodded, feeling a weight lifted from his chest. He was grateful for her understanding and the fact that she wasn't pressuring him to open the letter right away. He carefully placed the letter aside and looked back at the guitar and amp. He couldn't resist the urge to hold the guitar again, so he picked it up once more. He strummed a few chords awkwardly, feeling the weight of the instrument in his lap. "I have a feeling I'm going to be spending a lot of time with these..."

“You'll learn eventually and I hope if it isn't too much, would you let me be the first to hear when you can play a full song?” 

Sirius's heart fluttered a little at her request, and he smiled warmly. He was honored that she wanted to be the first one to hear him play. He clutched the guitar in his arms and nodded vigorously. "Of course, Auntie! You'll be the first one to hear me play."

He was determined more than ever to learn how to play the guitar and make his uncle proud, and to express his emotions in music. He could already imagine all the songs he would write, all the pain and love he would pour into them. He looked back at her, his heart full of gratitude. "Thank you… for everything.." He whispered.

“It's my pleasure, sweet boy” she said comfortingly. “I hope you know that.”

Sirius continued to hold the guitar, staring down at it with a mix of wonder and determination. He wanted to become the best guitar player that the world had ever seen, maybe even better than that group his aunt liked, The Beatles.

"I'm going to work hard and learn everything I can," he mumbled, mentally making a plan to practice for hours every day.

“Are you going to want to try on the leather jacket he gave you?” She asked looking into the box again.

Sirius's face lit up at her question. How could he not want to try on a leather jacket? Especially one that had once belonged to his uncle.

He carefully placed the guitar down, then reached over and took up the leather jacket from the box. He held it up, admiring its sleek, cool appearance, and his grin widened.

"This looks awesome... I can't wait to see how it looks on me." he said excitedly, already anticipating how cool he was going to look. He slipped the jacket over his shoulders and zipped it up, taking a step back to look at his reflection in a nearby mirror. 

But it was slightly too big, as his uncle had been a much taller man. Sirius scrutinized his reflection, a hint of disappointment washing over him as the jacket hung a little loose on his frame. He pouted slightly, pulling the edges of the jacket tighter. 

"Yeah... it's a little big," he admitted, looking up at her with slight sheepishness.

She laughed fondly, “Nothing a little spell can't fix, want me to give it a try?” 

Sirius perked up at her words, his disappointment quickly disappearing. He had completely forgotten about the countless spells they could use as wizards. A small, sly smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Yeah, why not.” he chuckled, running his hands over the jacket, feeling the material against his skin.

He closed his eyes for a moment. Her hands came to rest gently on his shoulders and he focused his mind to her next words, as she murmured “Resizamento.” 

He felt a familiar tingly sensation washing over him as the jacket began to shrink and mold to his body, conforming to his form. Sirius eyes fluttered open, and he couldn't help but gasp as he looked at his reflection again in the mirror. The jacket now fit him perfectly, molding to his frame and accentuating his lean body. He spun around, admiring himself from all angles, a feeling of pure elation washing over him. 

"It's perfect..." he breathed, grinning widely.

She hugged him tightly from behind and pressed a kiss to his hair, “He seemed to know it would be.” 

Sirius smiled widely, feeling a burst of affection as his aunt hugged him from behind and kissed his hair. He could practically feel his Uncle's presence in the room, as if he had known that his gifts would fit just right.

He ran his fingers over the material of the jacket once again, a sense of belonging and happiness filling him.

"I'm never going to take it off," he teased, spinning around in her arms to face her.

“You’ll have to at some point, leather is a material that needs to be cared for” she said.

Sirius rolled his eyes dramatically, a small laugh escaping his lips. He knew she was right, of course, but the idea of parting with the jacket for even a moment felt like a small tragedy to him.

"Ugh, I know," he sighed, pretending to pout. "But it's sooo comfortable. I just want to wear it forever."

“Well with a little magic, you probably could” she said nonchalantly.

Sirius's eyes widened with excitement at her words. He hadn't thought about that before. If he cast spells to clean and care for the leather, he probably could wear it indefinitely without wearing it out. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, a mischievous smile on his face.

"Hm... now that's a thought. I could do that, can’t I?”

“Don't you get any ideas mister,” she said playfully.

Sirius put on a look of mock-innocence, fluttering his eyelashes and holding his hands up in defense. 

“Who, me? Get ideas? Never.” He giggled before continuing, “But can you imagine? I’d become known as the wizard who wore a leather jacket every day. I’d be a living legend.”

“As long as it isn't for the worst smelling, then that's all you. Have at it” she said taking a seat.

Sirius feigned shock, bringing a hand to his chest and looking deeply offended. “Worst-smelling? Me? Aunt, you’re underestimating my grooming skills.” He leaned forward, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “I’ll charm the jacket to smell like new and fresh leather every single day. You won't be able to tell the difference.”

She laughed heartily, “Now I know all the girls will swoon with you around, the jacket and guitar are a powerful combination.” 

Sirius smirked, a hint of pride in his expression. He couldn't deny that the thought of making girls swoon was appealing. He was a teenage boy after all.

“You think so…?” He asked, running a hand through his hair with a cocky confidence. “I bet they'll be fighting over me with a guitar and a leather jacket.”

“Well it certainly worked on me back then.” 

Sirius raised an eyebrow, a cheeky grin on his face. “Did it, now? I guess these gifts were quite the winning combination.” He smirked, eyeing her up and down, his tone teasing. “So are you saying you have a weakness for leather jacket-wearing, guitar-playing boys?”

She sat back comfortably, “Well I married the "bad boy", didn't I?”

Sirius let out a loud laugh, throwing his head back. He thought that was a very accurate description of his uncle. He had definitely fit the part of a "bad boy." He ran a hand through his hair again, grinning. 

“Ah yes, I guess you did. And I assume that all of this...” he said, gesturing to his new gifts, “…had something to do with it?”

“Some of it, because despite all appearances, your uncle was a gentleman”

Sirius smiled warmly, his heart filled with a sense of pride and affection. He could imagine his uncle acting like a gentle and courteous gentleman around his aunt, even with his bad boy looks. 

He chuckled slightly, his tone teasing. “A gentleman with a bad boy image... he really was the complete package, wasn’t he? I bet all the girls fell head over heels for him,” Sirius continued, his grin widening. “He probably had them all swooning left and right.”

She shrugged, “I suppose so, but your uncle just always made it a point to make sure I knew that I was the only one for him.”

Sirius's heart melted a little at her words. The devotion and commitment his uncle and aunt had for each other was incredibly romantic, and Sirius couldn’t help but feel a pang of longing for a love like that one day. He let out a soft sigh, looking at her with a mixture of admiration and hope. “He really loved you, didn’t he?”

“Til death did us part,” she said softly.

Sirius felt a lump form in his throat at her words, a bittersweet smile on his face. He knew that his uncle had loved her deeply, that their love had been strong and passionate, right up until the very end. He reached out and took her hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. 

He looked up at her, his gaze intense. “Auntie…” he started, his voice a little hoarse. “Is it okay if I ask you something? Something a little personal?”

“Of course, sweet boy. You know that I try to be as honest as I can with you?”

Sirius nodded, feeling a sense of appreciation wash over him. He knew that she would always be honest with him, and he felt comfortable asking her personal questions. He took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts before asking, “I... I was wondering... what it was like? You and him, when you first met. What was he like…? How did you know that he was the one…?”

“It was all the little things coming together that let me know he was the one for me,” she said swooning a little at the thought. “But we were young, your age actually when we met by chance.”

Sirius smiled at the dreamy look in her eyes as she recalled their first meeting. He had a feeling he knew what she meant. It wasn’t just one thing, but a combination of things that had drawn her to his uncle. 

“By chance…” he repeated, his voice soft. “Like fate?”

“Don't know what else you could call it, because to think that the bad boy would do all that he could to see a girl he had met only once, it couldn't be anything else but fate“ she said fondly. 

Sirius chuckled softly, shaking his head slightly in disbelief. It sounded like something out of a romance novel. A bad boy seeing a beautiful girl, and then doing everything in his power to get her attention and make her his own.

He smiled warmly. “He really wanted to make sure you were his, didn’t he?”

“Oh yes, I was dressed all prim and proper on our outing as a family and that sneaky scoundrel snuck his name and address into my skirt’s pocket.”

Sirius let out a loud scoff, both amused and surprised at his uncle's sneaky tactics. He could imagine his uncle slipping his details into her pocket when no one was watching, a cheeky smile on his face.

“Sneaky, but effective. I guess he was pretty determined to get your attention,” he said, his tone teasing.

“He certainly had it alright, because I had never met a muggle like him before or ever,” she said honestly.

Sirius chuckled again, imagining his aunt’s confusion and curiosity encountering a muggle for the first time. He could only imagine how different his uncle must have been from the other pure-blood wizards she was familiar with. He leaned back, his tone light hearted, “I bet that must have thrown you off. A muggle boy having that effect on a pure-blood witch.”

“It certainly startled me, because most young wizards wouldn't even talk with me because the family name was intimidating but also because Walburga was meant to be the first choice.”

Sirius's expression softened as she spoke, feeling a pang of sympathy for her. He could understand that family name bringing about some hesitation and intimidation, as the Black family held a lot of status and influence within the wizarding world.

He reached out to take her hand, squeezing it gently. “I bet those wizards were idiots then, not wanting to get to know you because of the family name.”

“For the best really, gave your uncle and edge over the rest” she shrugged. 

He smirked, his tone teasing. “But, I bet that wasn’t the only reason you chose him over the rest. You just couldn’t resist a bad boy in leather, could you?” 

“You think all of the boys with ties and sweater vests could have made me swoon?”

Sirius laughed heartily at the image of stuffy, straight-laced boys in ties and sweater vests trying to make his aunt swoon. It was a comical sight, and he couldn’t imagine her being even remotely interested in them.

He shook his head firmly, a teasing grin on his face. 

“No, definitely not. Those boys would have had no chance against a bad boy in leather. I mean, come on. It’s not even a competition.” He chuckled again, his tone mischievous. “Besides, I think you’ve got a thing for leather-wearing bad boys, don’t you?”

He waggled his eyebrows jokingly, trying to gauge her reaction. He was just teasing, but he wouldn’t be surprised if she actually did have a soft spot for bad boys like his uncle.

“Bad boys tend to be misunderstood young men, and they hold a special place in my heart” she affirmed. 

Sirius felt a warmth spreading through his chest at her words. It was a testament to her kind and understanding nature, that she saw beyond the surface of things and understood people on a deeper level.

He smiled warmly, his tone soft. “Yeah, I guess bad boys are just misunderstood sometimes. They don’t all live up to their reputation, do they? And you can see through that, and still love and care for them despite their flaws.”

“When we learn to look past the appearances, we can have the honor of knowing those worth having in our lives,” she said kindly. 

Sirius nodded, his expression thoughtful. He could sense the wisdom in her words, and he knew that she was speaking from years of experience and insight.

He squeezed her hand again. “You’re right, I guess. It’s important to look past the surface and really get to know someone before making judgments. It helps us understand them and love them for who they truly are, flaws and all.”

She squeezed his hand in return with a smile, “Now, how about you try and play your guitar a bit, while I make us a quick dinner. Okay?”

Sirius felt a surge of excitement at the prospect of trying out his new guitar. He had been itching to play it ever since he unwrapped it and now he had the perfect opportunity. He gave her a quick hug before hopping off the couch and darting into the living room, guitar in hand. As he settled on the couch, guitar in his lap, Sirius began to strum the strings, his fingers plucking at them with a bit of clumsiness. He closed his eyes, a smile on his face as the music filled the space around him. He let the music take him away, his fingers moving over the strings, creating a simple but beautiful melody that echoed throughout the house. He forgot about everything else and lost himself in the moment, feeling free and alive as he played. 

His aunt from the other room hummed along and Sirius smiled to himself as he heard his aunt’s humming to his playing. It was a small moment, but it added to the warm and cozy feeling that filled the house. He continued strumming the guitar, playing with increasing confidence and feeling a sense of accomplishment at the sounds he was creating. Every now and then, he strummed a wrong note, but he didn’t let it bother him, correcting his mistake and carrying on.

Oh yes, moments like these were truly what made it feel like home. 

Which is why he never spoke about it in adulthood, because he lost it.

[nexility-sims]

𝐍𝐎. 𝟏𝟑   ❛ 𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭 ❜   |   RENZO'S HOUSE, NAKAWE, OCTOBER 1991

❧  𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲  /  𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠  /  𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬  /  𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭.

Leonor knew she was imposing. Although with permission, she let herself into the most private circle of Renzo’s life, one from which he had barred her for months. There hadn’t been any negotiating it, and she couldn’t say whether that made it better or worse. Rather, she hadn’t tried to go where he didn’t seem to want her. She also hadn’t tried to discover whether it was a matter of wanting at all. He did want her. He had, with clarity and audacity, from the day they met. She’d seen how he treated people that he didn’t want but had yet to experience that kind of terrible disregard from him.

❧ i don't recall when these ideas came to me and melded together but i'm glad they did also hopefully goes without saying but there's time weirdness that'll be addressed subsequently ! also 2x maybe i’m wrong but there aren’t enough bj fantasies given how much some enjoy giving them, idk idk

𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞 & 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭 ↓

Leonor knew she was imposing. Although with permission, she let herself into the most private circle of Renzo’s life, one from which he had barred her for months. There hadn’t been any negotiating it, and she couldn’t say whether that made it better or worse. Rather, she hadn’t tried to go where he didn’t seem to want her. She also hadn’t tried to discover whether it was a matter of wanting at all. He did want her. He had, with clarity and audacity, from the day they met. She’d seen how he treated people that he didn’t want but had yet to experience that kind of terrible disregard from him.

Still, for all they discussed, the red lines and boundaries of their own relationship went without remark—either unspeakable or so self-evident as to require no demarcation. Leonor believed most of the time that it was the latter. She knew that her life had steadily cohered around his. The rhythm of it attracted her, able to fill the grave-silent vacuum where her own had once been. Although it had, important distinctions remained. Now, waking up in his bed, surrounding by what looked to be all of his worldly possessions, knowing he allowed her to be there because she needed him that much, because he cared about her that much, she suspected at least one distinction had blurred irrevocably. 

Just as quick as the realization took hold, so too did the understanding that it didn’t bother her. She noted she was alone in the room. That meant something. She took in the sight of everything bathed in daylight, from the careless stacks of books to the rumpled clothes strewn on the floor to the overflowing boxes shoved into the small room’s corners. It had seemed peculiar to her that he lived in the guesthouse instead of the perfectly suitable villa to which it belonged. Looking around, she began to appreciate why he would make such a choice. For anyone else, it would have been silly or, worse, performative. Leonor, rolling over into the pillows that smelled like him, felt she now unlocked some deeper knowledge of everything he had ever told her about himself—like she could feel what he felt when he claimed to be so uncomfortable and discontent in places other people might kill to experience. In that, yet another distinction dissolved. 

Renzo hadn’t answered the phone when Leonor called, and his flippant prerecorded message sounded cruel as it played. Her hope had been reassurance—comfort, really—in the clarity he tended to offer. Instead, the sound of his voice disheartened her further. Her mind raced all night without guidance to quiet it. It chased away sleep, banging together gut-wrenching thoughts with insistence and urgency. The idea of her mother’s belongings cast out into the world, ripped away before she could claim them for her own sentimental needs, felt just as discordant as the haphazard crashing of cymbals. She had grasped onto half-formed notions of how to retrieve these mysterious belongings, but a plan refused to cohere. Even after crying as she hadn’t in weeks, the burden of emotional exhaustion didn’t slow down the pace of her thoughts.  

She slept much better in Renzo’s bed, even if it was the first time she’d ever been in it. 

He was a private person and, anyway, she had eagerly brought him into her house. His opinion mattered to her as soon as he set foot inside; he liked the artwork in her dining room so much that she'd immediately gifted him one of the large pieces, frame and all. It perplexed him, as if he wasn't sure what he would do with it. 'You don't collect it?' she asked him. He shrugged. 'That's what everyone asks. I should smarten up, huh?' Leonor had imagined his home full of art—obscure, iconoclastic finds, too, not the low-hanging fruit. That exchange and several others kept her curious about what his home looked like.

Luckily, she was the nosy kind of curious. She asked around without shame on a couple of occasions, wondering aloud where he lived and what his house was like. She did know his address. He’d given it to her driver, at the end of long nights or when he left her house in the afternoon. All it told her was that he lived in a quiet, star-studded neighborhood that was the new money equivalent of her own. That wasn’t surprising, even if she imagined him in a trendy downtown apartment rather than one of those high-walled coastal villas. His friends offered less-than-colorful descriptions of what was inside. They seemed confused by the question, even. ‘It’s just a house.’ He wasn’t much for decorating. They went over to drink and smoke and and gamble and watch films. She could imagine it well enough, a gaggle of off-duty actors squished together on a big couch. What kind of couch, though? That was the root of it—she could imagine Renzo’s eyes lighting up at the sight of an old, ugly sofa in a dusty secondhand store, but she couldn’t quite picture him bringing it home with any purpose or intent. In the same way she inherited a house designed for someone else, she supposed he simply occupied someone else’s dream home. 

As it turned out, that was the case. Imposing fences, dense foliage, and locked gates hid all the houses on the street from view. Leonor had initially noted the averageness of the house itself, but she soon found herself more intrigued by the discovery that he resided in the guesthouse instead. She'd cast a glance back at the main house looming large and empty, then laughed as she turned back to the little doll’s home Renzo preferred. Inside, Leonor flipped on every light she encountered as she wandered around. She had felt a strange, sheepish delight that he wasn’t present to observe the way her eyes lingered on every detail. It was greedy, but she wanted to see everything that was his. 

The guesthouse possessed a neutral, modern style that didn’t represent Renzo very well, but he had made it his own. His old shoes piled up in the entryway. The living room, small to her but an open cavern in reality, bore the colorful imprint of his time spent there. VHS tapes clustered around the television set. Evidence of card games past littered the coffee table, along with books, a full ashtray, abandoned bottles of lukewarm beer. Leonor smiled at the little potted cactus. In the music nook, a record collection sat with a couple of guitars. Leonor envisioned him stretched out on the solitary lounge chair, reading the book tossed at its foot, making use of the hard candy or rolling papers on the side table in between chapters. She took one of the candies as she passed by, leaving behind her wrapper with those already discarded. 

The staircase led directly to the single bedroom. Leonor had been able to see in the moonlight, and she soon felt a tug of unease.  Even more than downstairs, Renzo’s bedroom looked like the sanctuary she had suspected his home must be. It was cluttered and overflowed with belongings, some collecting dust and others arranged as if he would return to them any minute. His very life was here. It fit in a single room. Some of it spoke for itself, and others were inscrutable symbols of stories she had yet to hear. What was it like, she wondered, to both live with such sentimentality and to be so without roots? For a moment, she had wanted to turn around and leave, as if she hadn’t earned the right to such an intimate look at him. Instead, she pulled the door shut and crawled into the unmade bed. 

Walking into the house, the nostalgic scent of stale smoke sunk into fabric greeted her. A fleeting recollection of climbing into her mother's personal car sprung to mind in response. The same smell clung to the sheets and pillows, melded with the sweet, earthen scents Renzo wore. She could all but hear her grandmother’s voice ranting about the acerbic stench she loathed, for reasons both hygienic and spiteful, but Leonor found the familiarity comforting. It smelled like her mother’s embrace the morning after a big fight, when she came inside from the balcony with a tired, apologetic smile on her face and last night’s smoke still in her hair. An ocean breeze blew inside from the open doors, and it ruffled Leonor’s hair as she turned to face the view. The water was barely visible through the foliage, but its shimmering in the distance was unmistakable. She listened to the wind, and the quiet city whisperings it carried, and soon felt at home.

As Leonor descended the spiral staircase the next morning, the sound of voices alerted her yet again to the fact that she was imposing. Renzo’s plans for the weekend hadn’t included her. She was supposed to be away and, in any case, he had mentioned meeting a friend. It didn’t occur to her as she’d pulled on her underwear and selected a shirt from the floor to wear—and only that, crucially—that he could be meeting someone at home, right now, while she slept her way from morning to early afternoon. Possibilities flashed through her mind as her steps down the staircase slowed. It could be someone important, like his agent, who sounded dour even on the telephone. Or, it could be a familiar face who would see her bare legs and just laugh. She decided to risk it and managed to pad all the way over to the sunken sitting area before Renzo looked up at her. 

“How’d you sleep?” he asked as she regarded his guest, a stranger, with a quizzical look.

“Hard,” she replied. "Knocked out.” 

Renzo chuckled, and the man sat across from him piped up, “Hey. I don’t know if you remember me. Jim.”

Leonor stared at his face. He was possibly the most non-Uspanian looking man she had ever seen, and his accent supported that notion. Still, she couldn't remember where she might have seen him. His was a forgettable face, too. “I don’t, sorry. Nice to meet you—again.” 

“Jim’s a photographer,” Renzo added. 

Leonor nodded. He looked like a photographer, and he looked like the kind of photographer that Renzo would befriend. Nonetheless, she feigned dismay, announcing, “Oh, no, I better go hide, then—!”

“Editorial, mostly,” Jim clarified with a laugh. “Yeah, I dabble in photojournalism, but strictly the kind that’s, you know, real news.” 

The conversation lulled while Leonor turned her attention back to Renzo, nudging him with her toes until he reached up to help her climb down onto the couch. Although Jim watched them, he may as well have not been present at all. Leonor wished he wasn’t. Buoyed by the satisfaction of having achieved a new kind of intimacy, Leonor hoped to float down the stairs and right into Renzo’s arms. She wanted a tour of the house, and she wanted to take her time in every part of it. In a sense, the day was halfway over, and it could have progressed like all of the sleepovers before it, making up for lost morning hours with late night ones. Renzo maintained late-rising night owl's hours, and Leonor was happy to follow him into bed and out of it irrespective of where the sun might’ve been sitting in the sky. Today, he was awake early with a friend, and Leonor had to settle for conveying her disappointment through expression alone. He smirked at her while he squeezed her thigh, and she took that as a wordless promise. 

Nestled between him and the couch, Leonor turned her attention back to Jim. “Jim, have you done anything I would recognize?” 

“Maybe,” he began, “But—”

“And you’re from Simerica, too?”

Jim chuckled, and Leonor felt Renzo react to that with his own amused scoff. 

“I met Renzo at the Beverly Hills Hotel,” Jim explained. “He walked into my shot and then told me to go fuck myself. Southern charm, this guy.”

Although there was affection in Jim’s tone, Renzo protested this characterization while Leonor snickered. It was believable, but perhaps that was the problem. “He was being a bitch about it. I wandered by. So what?”

“It was my first Interview job! I can admit I was a teeny bit on edge,” Jim retorted.

Again, they fell quiet while Renzo tended to the cigarette he’d been holding and Leonor observed from where she lay against his chest. 

Jim looked on. His expression shifted into one of careful concentration. He asked without any prelude, “Can I photograph you?” 

It wasn’t a question she couldn’t have anticipated, but Leonor was still surprised. She wrinkled her brow and cast another glance to Renzo before trying to clarify what Jim wanted. “Me?”

“Both of you. Together.”

“Um … When?”

“Now? Today. I have my camera right here.”

“It’s up to you,” Renzo murmured to her.

Indeed, Jim’s camera sat on the coffee table, perched atop a stack of tapes leftover from whatever difficult movie-watching decision Renzo had last made. Leonor looked at it, imagining the shuttering of its lens as it pointed toward her. What kind of photographs did Jim have in mind? She didn’t know what his work looked like, although his association with Renzo offered clues. He wouldn’t have befriended someone whose art he didn’t respect, and Renzo was just as well-acquainted with posing for cameras as Leonor herself. Had Jim taken photographs of him before, aside from whatever unintentional cameo he’d made when they first met? Polaroid flashes went off constantly during their nights of partying, but that, much like the hounding flashes of paparazzi, differed from what Jim was proposing. He wanted to photograph them in Renzo’s home. He would want a performance of candidity, that elusive desire of everyone in his profession. They would be relaxed, together, his object being their relationship, not either of the two individuals that formed it. It wasn't lost on her that he asked for a photo shoot while they ignored him in favor of each other.

Jim’s question, with Renzo’s gentle and immediate yielding, brought yet another once-sharp distinction into soft focus. 

“Well …” Leonor meant to forestall announcing a decision, but her tone gave it away. Jim smiled as she said to Renzo, “We do look good together. Not too many good quality daytime pictures, are there? Hm.”

Jim was eager to seal the deal. “Just a casual offer,” he insisted. “Just for fun. Perk of having interesting friends.”

Leonor nodded. He must have taken pictures of Renzo before. He acted like a bashful schoolboy with a surprising report card whenever she found photos of him to coo over. 'Put it away! It's embarrassing.' Those photographers had success with him, managing to coax out the version that played well with others and didn't resent his blessings. Fancy pictures taken by a friend would be something different. Perhaps Jim's photos had been monochrome closeups that turned his large, green eyes into a soft, warm gray and made even more pronounced the sharp lines of his face. Although she had seen countless photos of herself, she couldn’t fully see how she would fit into that frame—what they would look like together, through Jim’s mechanical eyes. 

“No publication? Nowhere?” she asked, forcing herself back to the concrete specifics. 

Jim shook his head. “I’ll give you prints to keep, and you can do whatever with them.” 

She felt a flutter. It was the kind of ingenuous excitement that always appeared with embarrassment nipping at its heels. What would she do, frame one and put it on her bedside table—stick it to her refrigerator with a cute magnet, tuck it into the sun visor of her car, keep it in her purse alongside her credit cards and notes-to-self? Even if they felt silly, there was nothing ridiculous in those suggestions. Her desire for what Jim offered was sincere. That, coupled with the subtle feeling of Renzo nuzzling his cheek against her hair, confirmed the suspicion she had awoken with less than an hour ago. Somehow, today was different. Every day after would have to be as well.

Surprised by the softness of her own words when she spoke, Leonor affirmed, “Okay, then. Sounds like fun.”

TRANSCRIPT:

[Leonor murmurs]

[Camera shutters, indistinct voices]

RENZO (O.S.) | Open your mouth—

[Birds chirping, Leonor laughs]

RENZO | How’d you sleep? LEONOR | Hard. Knocked out. [Renzo chuckles]

JIM | Hey. I don’t know if you remember me. Jim. LEONOR | I don’t, sorry. Nice to meet you—again.

RENZO | Jim’s a photographer. LEONOR | Oh, no, I better go hide, then— JIM | [laughs] Editorial, mostly. Yeah, I dabble in photojournalism, but strictly the kind that’s, you know, real news.

LEONOR | Jim, have you done anything I would recognize?

JIM | Maybe, but— LEONOR | And you’re from Simerica, too? JIM | I met Renzo at the Beverly Hills Hotel. He walked into my shot and then told me to go fuck myself. Southern charm, this guy. [Leonor snickers]

RENZO | He was being a bitch about it. I wandered by. So what? JIM | It was my first Interview job! I can admit I was a teeny bit on edge. [Laughter]

JIM | Can I photograph you?

LEONOR | Me? JIM | Both of you. Together. LEONOR | Um … When? JIM | Now? Today. I have my camera right here. RENZO | It’s up to you. LEONOR | Well … We do look good together. Not too many good quality daytime pictures, are there? Hm.

JIM | Just a casual offer. Just for fun. Perk of having interesting friends. LEONOR | No publication? Nowhere? JIM | I’ll give you prints to keep, and you can do whatever with them.

LEONOR | Okay, then. Sounds like fun.

[doodle-pops]

Bet On It

Elrohir x reader

Request: Elrohir, id love a friend's to lovers trope fic. reader can be also arwen or glorfindel's friend and they keep telling both them and elrohir to fucking confess to eachother but they refuse to because of the classic "I don't want to ruin our friendship,I can't lose them." They think they're subtle with pinning after one another but like everyone can tell they're in love. Casual physical affection, spending way too much time with eachother, "subtle" acts of service, etc. Idiots in love literally. One of them end up confessing after like a sweet moment, just a quiet whisper or a small kiss but it's enough for the other to finally confess too. Just a super fluff moment of them finally freely loving one another! - Anon

Warnings: fluff, mutual pinning, friends to lovers, confession, kissing

Words: 1.9k

Synopsis: You and Elrohir muster the courage to break old ties while recreating new ones as you begin a future together.

Walking up the familiar winding pathway that to the private getaway pavilion at the top, your feet softly padded against the steps until you made three raps to the wooden pillar. Somewhere, you heard the noticeable airy thuds of Elrohir’s feet coming your way eagerly, easily hiding a bag of jittery nerves. Casually the makeshift curtain drew back and revealed his evening radiance, attired in light blues and greys, a single braid to the right and his ebony hair loosely cascading down his back. Such was the simplicity of your dear friend, whom you cherished more than anything else in the world.

Through the momentary welcoming, your eyes dropped from his face to meet his chest, too fearful of giving away too many emotions already. Memories of Lady Arwen’s conversation replayed in your head about making a move otherwise it would be a great loss on your behalf, not before reminding you of her brother’s whereabouts.

Heart beating rapidly in your throat, you curled your toes against your sandals and exhaled. “Elrohir.”

“Y/N,” he greeted just as breathlessly as you. “Please come in. It is a wonderful surprise to have you visit.”

Gingerly you brushed past his shoulders, head dipping and eye falling to the floor as you entered his space. It was, and still is a haven of comfort and peace of mind for you when the world was hard on your shoulders. Now, it felt foreign with the looming messages of what you had planned to execute tonight…hopefully. Taking your time to observe the interior, not much had changed since your last visit, and nor had he finished the upturned book lying haphazardly on his bed.

“You still haven’t finished the Utopia Trilogy?” you laughed as you walked over and flipped the book over, scanning the page. “I thought you were a master at reading.”

Unbeknownst to you, your choice of conversational starter was an ice breaker for Elrohir, for even he was skittish and unsure of how to approach. Thankfully, luck was in the air.

Giving a lazy scratch to the back of his head, he made a guttural sound, almost like a deep whine and stomped over to pry the book gently out of your hands. Placing it back on the shelf, he spun around to purse his lips. “What did I tell you about judging my reading abilities? One does not rush a book, but timelessly enjoy it.”

“If timeless enjoying it means over a year, then by all means, continue,” you snickered and plopped onto his bed, shuffling your sandals off and making yourself comfortable. As easily as the conversation started, the rest flowed once Elrohir noticed the tension dissipating. Following suit, he climbed on the bed, sitting at the foot with his legs crossed and hands in his lap.

His honey-brown eyes flickered from the rumpled bed sheets to your feet to your face and then back at the sheets. “So,” he began quietly, “it’s been a while since we last spoke. How have you been?”

“Oh, you know, the usual. Nothing new with me. Just wandering Imladris like a ghost, visiting the gardens and robbing all the local merchants,” you shrugged, your fingers idly found themselves tracing the mahogany armrest of the chair beside the bed. You were desperately fighting to keep your tone light. “And you? Last I heard, you all went as far as Forodwaith?”

Elrohir nodded with a tight-lip smile as he rocked back and forth. “Sort of. We met with the Dúnedain on the way and hunted some orcs all the way to the borders before turning back to come home—didn’t want to be away for too long. I tend to miss all my favourite people back home,” he explained, leading to you feeling a flush of warmth from his words, your heart beating a little faster prompting you to lift your head and lock eyes with him in the instant. A silent understanding passed between you two, then, with a small almost shy smile, he reached out and gently touched the back of your hand. “I’ve missed our conversations.”

You felt a shiver run through you at the contact, his touch sending a wave of warmth through your body. Wanting to duck your head or cover your face, you mustered the courage to withhold eye contact. “It’s good to be here,” you murmured lightly.

“It’s good to have you here,” he corrected.

For a while, the two of you engaged in effortless conversations, your body language morphing from tense to relaxed as your bodies shifted about the bed, slowly getting closer and closer. Discussing a myriad of topics that ranged from his adventures with his brothers and others to his daily duties and past, you covered the profound to the mundane. Topics of books, to your imagination, tales of old, uncharted dreams and future adventures beyond the lands of Middle Earth were thrown around gracefully and turned the evening into nightfall easily. The fullness of the moon rose from behind the clouds, shining glittering strands of light upon you both through the vine-covered canopy, aiding with the ambience.

Throughout your dialoguing, subtle gestures conveyed what words could not. Elrohir’s hand would brush lightly against yours as he passed you a cup of tea, a simple act imbued with unspoken affection. Your fingers would linger on his arm, savouring the warmth and closeness as you shared a moment of laughter over a shared memory. Each touch, though fleeting was charged with meaning, speaking of a connection that ran deeper than a mere friendship. The air between you crackled with unspoken tension, a dance of intimacy and restraint, each gesture a silent confession of feelings that lay just beneath the surface.

As the evening wore on, the moon dipping behind a cloud and hiding its light, a comfortable silence settles between you. Elrohir glanced at you, his expression contemplative. “Do you ever think about the future?” he asked suddenly.

You couldn’t resist looking at him surprised by the question. “Sometimes,” you admitted. “What brought this on, may I ask?”

He hesitated, his left shoulder bumping against your knees as he looked up from his lying position. The proximity was enough for you to catch a whiff of the mint of his tongue. “I was on a ride this morning with Lord Glorfindel, and he left me questioning myself and other things with his…choice of word,” he breathed and reached out to hold your hand and give it a small swing. “I just wondered what the future would hold for us. You and I, specifically.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, the implication of them making your breath catch. Furthermore, the fiddling of his hand with yours increased your heart rate, leaving you occasionally needing to inhale.

The tension that was in the air now, a charged energy which made the room feel smaller and more intimate was sluggishly bringing your heads closer. Elrohir looked up, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made your pulse quicken. With bated breath, his voice dipped as his fingers intertwined with the hand he was playing with. “There is something I need to tell you, and I hope it doesn’t push you away or ruin things between us,” he said earnestly. “I care about you…more than a friend. I have for a long time.”

You stared at him for a long while, your heart pounding like a thunderous stampede of wild beasts. Lady Arwen’s words and teasing replayed in your mind as she told you about her brother crushing you for a long time. It was hard to see when all you saw was friendship and didn’t want to ruin the good you had. Opening your mouth to respond, no sound exited, so you closed it and remained breathless while he nervously held your hand, his thumb soothingly stroking the back of your hand repeatedly. His touch sent shivers down your spine. “I know it might come as a surprise, but I can’t keep it to myself any longer. I hope this doesn’t ruin our friendship.”

His confession hung in the air between you, the declaration that seemed to make time stand still. For a moment, you could only bashfully stare at him, the enormity of his words setting over you like a warm embrace. You didn’t know how to explain the urge that came over you when you licked your lips and darted your eyes to his, something he noticed and apprehensively craned his neck upwards to bridge the gap, his eyes closing briefly as if to savour the upcoming moment. In return, you closed your eyes when you felt his other hand slide around your neck to cup your nape and pull you closer.

With deliberate anticipation, Elrohir took his time to bridge the gap until his very own teasing antagonised him, forcing him to exhale before his lips collided with yours. A muffled groan from him turned into a grunt when he felt your hands reach out to cradle his neck, fingers scraping against his scalp leaving him shivering. Elrohir felt greedy in the moment as the first continued; years of silently loving you came pouring out in waves of passion and tenderness.

When you finally pulled apart, you were both breathless, your foreheads resting against each other, the world around you seeming to shimmer with newfound brightness. Elrohir’s eyes were soft, filled with a deep, abiding tenderness. “I can’t believe I was a fool for not believing Lord Glorfindel’s words at first,” he muttered, shaking his head with a smile. “I thought you wouldn’t feel the same because we’re just friends.”

“That makes to both of us,” you softly laughed. “I too didn’t believe your sister, but when she told me that both she and Elladan were betting on it, I had to do something about it.”

“Wait,” he cautioned as he sat upright, “my siblings conspired through betting. Come to think of it, Glorfindel did mention something about not wanting to lose a bet…of course.”

Sliding your hand off his neck to return to cradling his hands and playing with his fingers, rocked back and forth due to the overwhelming excitement in your chest. Finally, all your emotions came pouring out and the doubt you both feared was proven wrong. Roaming your eyes over his face, you leaned in, catching him off-guard, to kiss his lips once more, loving the sensation of his soft lips on yours. Fortunately, Elrohir did not mind the distraction you provided, reducing his plotting to deal with his siblings to focus on you before him.

“I’m glad I took the leap of faith and told you my heart,” he whispered through the kiss, cradling your cheeks and leaning in for another.

The two of you sat there for a while, simply holding each other, basking in the warmth of your newfound happiness. Eventually, as the night wore on, you found yourself lying side by side on his bed with his arms wrapped protectively, yet lovingly around you as your conversation about the future returned in delight. There was a sense of peace, a feeling that everything was right with the world now that you had finally confessed your love. All the weight was off your shoulders and replaced with bliss.

“I never want to be apart from you,” he said. “I want to spend every moment with you, to share my life with you.”

Your heart swelled as you looked up at him, your eyes softening. “I would like that as well.”

Leaning in, pleased at your response, his nose bumped against yours as he pecked your lips. “I can’t wait for our future together.”

Masterlist

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[from-the-clouds]

texas sun - joel miller x f! reader - vol. v

series masterlist | series playlist | writing masterlist | previous chapter | photo cred

chapter summary: You knew yourself, and the way that you could get hung up on the right kind of person. Joel was that kind of person. But you don’t like how formal this feels. So real. -- In other words, Joel takes you on your first date. pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader words: 8.6k chapter warnings: SMUT, 18+ ONLY (it's happening, folks!) - unprotected sex, please dm if you want specifics but I’m not trying to spoil too much. If you don't want to read the smut, it doesn't happen until about halfway through the chapter. Crying after sex. Angst. FLUFF. Mentions of anxiety & self-doubt, alcohol consumption.  a/n: Help! I can’t stop writing fit checks into this story!! This ended up being insanely horny but also shockingly sweet. I worked way way way too hard on it so please say nice things to me. Might need to take a couple days off because I'm really feeling burnt out. So please enjoy in the meantime.

-May 16, 2003-

Joel doesn’t like lying to Sarah.

Although, he’s not sure that he’s lying to her as much as he is simply….omitting information. Depending on who you ask, that could still be considered lying.

He’s fresh out of the shower when he steps into the living room, fishes through the catch-all basket located just inside the front door, and pockets his wallet and keys.

“Where are you going?” 

Sarah’s lounging on the couch, on her back, one of her hands slung behind her head. There’s a book opened on her lap, but she’s not reading. “You’re all dressed up.”

Joel looks down at his green flannel shirt, tucked into a pair of dark jeans. Truth be told, he’s a little ashamed he doesn’t have anything nicer in his closet. It’s not like he ever has any occasion to dress up, but he’s already feeling self-conscious and being (most likely) underdressed isn’t helping. Based on the very limited information he knows about your past relationships, you’re probably accustomed to crisp dress shirts, ties, blazers. He doesn’t own any of those things — he did, at one point, have the tux from his wedding, but he’d gotten rid of it after the divorce. Every time he saw it in the back of his closet, it made him sick. Regardless, tonight he’d done the best he could otherwise - showered, trimmed his beard, and even dug through his medicine cabinet for an old – probably expired – bottle of cologne. Hopefully it was enough. 

“I’ve uh….I’ve got a date.” Joel says. 

The theme song from That’s So Raven is blaring through the living room, but it immediately cuts out as Sarah presses mute and sits up entirely from her spot on the couch. “Really?”

“Don’t act so surprised,” Joel says. “Your uncle is coming over, though, he’s gonna drop me off and then he said he’d take you to the movies.”

As if on cue, he hears Tommy’s truck pull into the drive. “Yes!” Sarah leaps up from the couch. “I have to change first.”

“Hurry up, babygirl, I’m already runnin’ behind,” Joel calls after her. 

Tommy knocks twice on the front door before letting himself in anyways. 

“You’re late,” Joel informs, shutting the door behind him. They should’ve left five minutes ago, and the last thing Joel wants is for you to think he’s not punctual. To be fair, he’s not, and almost never is. But you don’t need to know that….yet. 

“Hello to you, too,” Tommy trails after him into the kitchen. Joel is tempted to chug a beer, or fish the half-empty bottle of whiskey he’s got in the cabinet out to take a shot — just to take the edge off. But he refrains. It wouldn’t be a good look to show up smelling of booze.

“So…who's the lucky lady?” When Joel doesn’t answer right away, Tommy presses. “Come on, Joel, who is it?” 

He contemplates telling his brother the truth, but he doesn’t want to give him the idea that he had taken his advice. He didn’t. Well maybe he did, but he knows Tommy will become insufferable if he finds out. 

“Is it who I think it is?” Tommy asks. “It better be.”

Unfortunately, Tommy knows him too well. They’re brothers, and really, Joel’s first and oldest friend. The answer is written all over his face. 

Tommy grins. “Fucking finally. Oh my god, dude, I thought you’d never-”

“Alright, alright!” Joel interjects, eyes darting nervously up the stairs, where he hears his daughter shuffling around in her bathroom. “Keep your mouth shut, I haven’t told Sarah yet.” 

Tommy raises his hands in defense, but at least seems to understand how serious Joel is. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna say anything. Are you excited?”

“Yeah,” Joel looks down at the countertop, and is compelled to be honest with his little brother. “I’m uh….I’m a little nervous, though. Been awhile since I’ve done anything like this.” 

Tommy grows serious. “Do you want my advice?” 

“Yours?” Joel feels like whatever advice he has to offer is likely questionable, particularly with someone like you. “No thanks. I’d rather make a good impression.”

His brother ignores the subtle dig. “You sure? Because unlike you, I actually go on dates. I mean, it’s been what, like….ten years?” He crosses his arms, pretends to think. It’s probably only been a couple of months since the last time Joel took someone out, and Tommy knows it, but he loves to dramatize. “I mean at this stage, you’re basically a born-again virgin. Do you even remember how to put on a condom?” 

Joel crosses his arms and glares at his brother, who begins giggling at his bad joke. “I knew I shouldn’t have fucking said anything to you,” he shakes his head.

“Oh come on Joel, you’ll be fine,” Tommy says. “Really. She’s into you. I could tell when we were all together the other night. Even when I was dancing with her, I kept catching her lookin’ your way…”

“Yeah, well….” Joel rubs the back of his neck to play off the surge of warmth he gets from this information. “Thanks.”

Sarah’s bathroom door opens, and he hears the staccato beat of her sneakers coming down the stairs. Joel points at Tommy one last time. “Not a word, understand?” 

Tommy nods just as she rounds the corner.

“Uncle Tommy!” Sarah raises her hand to give him a high-five, which they both purposely miss so they can collide palms on the downswing, grab each other’s hands and then begin a secret handshake so complex that Joel, who has seen it a thousand times, still doesn’t think he could execute correctly if he tried.

“How’s my favorite niece?” 

“I’m your only niece.” 

“Touche,” they shoot at each other with finger guns before she wraps him in a hug and Tommy presses his nose to the top of her head. Despite the fact that their little routine is costing Joel precious time, almost all the annoyance he’d been feeling with his brother dissipates at the sight.

“We all ready?” Tommy asks her, then points at him. “Don’t want to make this casanova late.”

“Yeah, of course not,” Sarah looks over at Joel with a smile that doesn’t seem entirely sincere. When she was younger and he’d gone on dates, she always had a lot more questions. Who is it? What is she like? When can I meet her? Is she pretty? Over the years, however, she became less and less interested. It was because she was smart, and had caught onto the pattern - he’d go on a date, maybe one or two more, then there’d be a long period of nothing before the cycle repeated itself every couple months. It rarely developed into anything that would concern her, and Joel always kept the details to himself.

While they’re en route to the restaurant – a little French bistro that had opened up recently — Sarah and Tommy bicker about what movie they want to see.

“I wanna see Holes. I just read the book.”

Tommy grimaces. “What about Matrix Reloaded? It just came out.”

“I already told dad I’d go to that with him.”

“So?” he looks between Sarah and Joel. “Why can’t you just see it twice?”

“No,” Sarah says emphatically. “I have to see it with dad first. It’s not fair.” 

Tommy groans, mutters under his breath. “I can’t believe you let her watch that crap,” as if he wasn’t about to do the same thing.

“She likes it,” Joel shrugs.

“All the more reason to see it tonight.”

“Tommy,” Joel warns. 

“Fine.”

“I don’t really like it, though. I just like to keep dad company so he doesn’t have to see it alone.”

“You’re too nice,” Tommy takes a beat. “Are you sure you aren’t adopted?”

“Shut up,” Joel and Sarah answer at the same time, and Joel holds his palm behind him for his daughter to slap. 

Tommy acquiesces, his truck jolting as it pulls into the parking lot of the restaurant. Joel’s heart rate picks up immediately. The car rolls to a stop and Joel turns to look at both of them. “Alright, I’ll be home by midnight.”

“Sounds good,” says Sarah. 

“Have fun,” Tommy raises his eyebrows, winks, and thankfully Sarah doesn’t see it, because she’s getting out of the truck to take Joel’s spot shotgun. He makes sure she’s settled with her seatbelt on before he shuts the door.

He isn’t trying to waste time, but Joel watches them pull out of the lot and back onto the street before he goes inside the restaurant. Really, he just needs a minute to collect himself. There’s no good reason for him to be as anxious as he is, he’s already kissed you once, and you had seemed to like it — quite a lot too. For the past week the feeling of your body pressed up against him, legs around his torso, was pretty much all he thought about when his mind wandered. Mostly at night before bed, and even today, in the shower when he was getting ready - just to try and calm down. Even now, the idea leaves him flustered.

Nevertheless, this probably isn’t even technically a first date. He hasn’t had issues speaking to you in the past, so this should be easy. Right? But what if you change your mind? And what if it dawns on you that he’s not your type? Even worse, what if you realize he’s just not good enough? 

Joel forces himself inside before he talks himself out of this. When he enters, he sees you first. You’re across the room, leaning over the small bar where a few other patrons are. Greedily, he takes you in, and it’s easy to trace your figure in the tight black shift dress you’ve got on, sheer black tights underneath. It’s sleek, stylish - not that Joel knows much about that. As usual, you stand out in stark contrast to every other person in the place. He likes it. But he feels underdressed. He’ll look ridiculous standing next to you, and he briefly considers turning around, leaving, and saving himself the embarrassment.  

That’s until you move, angling yourself towards him and scanning the restaurant, an elbow resting on the bar, a hand on your knee. You’re looking for him, waiting for him, and finally, you’re rewarded when your eyes catch. Suddenly, Joel doesn’t care about what he’s wearing. He doesn't care that he’s not good enough. At the very least, he doesn’t have to guess if you’re interested in him anymore, not with how you’re gazing at him — a soft smile and narrowed eyes that betray your enthusiasm. Sure, he's not good enough, but he decides if he’s going to go down in flames, he’ll do it trying to convince you otherwise.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Maybe I should’ve eaten a proper lunch, you think to yourself. You’ve barely touched the drink in your hand, but you’re already starting to feel it. And even though you are the designated driver tonight, for now, the slight buzz is welcome, working to soothe. 

Over the years, you’d been on your fair share of first dates. Unlike most…you don’t hate them. For whatever reason, getting to know new people had always come easy, particularly if they were the right person. Being a lawyer, you had a knack for talking yourself into or out of almost anything. So it was just as easy to let someone know if they weren’t the right person. The best part of first dates, however, was that they lacked all the things you hated — promises, expectations, and conversations that went deeper than general pleasantries. 

So all things considered, you shouldn’t feel as tense as you do right now.

There’s a few factors that might have something to do with it, and your brain turns them over,  biding your time until your date arrives. 

First is the text that sits opened on your BlackBerry.

Dad’s home from the hospital. Doing better. Call when you can. - Vince

Your father has been in and out of the hospital for the last month or so, his health rapidly declining. But every update from your brother, however innocent they may be, feels like veiled threats. You should be here. You should know this. I shouldn't have to text you about it. I can’t believe I’m the only one looking after him. A part of you wants to believe that Vincent wouldn’t play that sort of game with you, but as you’ve gotten older and grown apart, you’d gotten worse at deciphering his motivations. Vaguely, you acknowledge that you could just be projecting, and you are the only one trying to make you feel bad. 

And then there’s Joel. 

He’s running late, you hope, or he’s stood you up. And you have already promised yourself that you’re only gonna wait ten more minutes before heading home with your tail tucked between your legs. The thought of that makes you regret agreeing to this in the first place. You’d already embarrassed yourself the last time you were together, practically begging him to take you on the kitchen countertop, but he’d insisted on doing this right. You should’ve pushed harder because you’re starting to think that maybe, just maybe….a zipless fuck would’ve sufficed. Oh, who were you kidding? You knew yourself, and the way that you could get hung up on the right kind of person. Joel was that kind of person. But you don’t like how formal this feels. So real. 

He knows you better than most first dates do. You’ve told him more about your family, about your fucked up childhood, about your aversion to committed relationships more than any friend you’ve made since moving to Texas. And he listened. It should make you feel better. He knows what he’s getting himself into, and he asked you here anyways. Maybe he’s having second thoughts. 

For what feels like the thousandth time, you check your emails and take a sip of your dirty martini – your preferred vehicle for alcohol consumption. Ultimately, you like the idea of a martini more than the actual taste, but you appreciate how direct they are. You scan the restaurant one last time, doing your best to look casual, like you don’t really care. Like you’re supposed to be there alone. 

But when your head turns towards the entrance, Joel is standing across from you. 

He gives you a bashful smile, one that makes your stomach flip, and makes his way over – though he doesn’t seem to be in a rush. It’s like he knows you’d sit and wait for him for as long as it takes – you would, you will, you are. 

When he finally lands in front of you, one thumb hooked in the belt loop of his dark-wash jeans, he leans forward and presses his lips to your cheek for the briefest moment, and pulls back, looking you up and down. 

“It’s good to see you, darlin’,” he murmurs softly. The term of endearment makes your ears feel hot. You're shocked at the effect he has on you, almost can’t believe it. It scares you, too, but you want to chase the feeling. “You look great.”

“So do you,” because you’re not one to lie. He does. As good as always, but he might’ve trimmed his beard for the occasion and maybe….put on cologne? It’s hard to tell, and in your brief experience being so close to him, he’s always smelled good regardless. 

“Sorry I’m late,” he apologizes. “Can’t count on Tommy to get me anywhere on time.”

“It’s alright,” you say casually, like you hadn’t had your whole exit strategy planned out just minutes ago. “I got to have a drink while I wait. You want something?” you gesture towards the bartender. 

“Sure,” Joel answers. “How about an old fashioned?” There’s no room for him to sit, so he leans next to you, arm on the bartop, invading your personal space while you wait for your table. Your skin buzzes like you’ve never been this close to a man before in your life. Pathetic. 

He orders his drink before he speaks to you again. “Have you been here before?” he asks. 

You shake your head no. “I was planning on coming a couple months ago but….never got around to it.”

“It’s good,” he says. “I’ve been a couple times.”

“Is this where you take all the girls you go out with?” you raise an eyebrow, grateful that your voice sounds even despite the way your blood is fizzing, your heart pumping so fast you can feel it in your ears. 

Joel shakes his head no. “That’s down the street.”

“Oh?” you nod, sip your drink. Whatever buzz you’d been feeling is gone in the wake of adrenaline. “So….why didn’t you take me there, then?”

“It’s not as nice,” Joel smirks, leaning in a little closer – if it were possible. His lips are practically touching your ear, and his voice is raspy for what comes next. “And I’m trying to impress you.” 

“Right,” you can’t help but smile, pulling back so you can lock eyes. He’s so sincere you can’t even think up a clever quip in return. “How thoughtful.” 

He gives you a cheeky grin. You want to touch him, want to hold him, want to fist the front of his shirt or tug on the hair at the back of his neck and stick your tongue down his throat like you aren’t surrounded by an entire restaurant of patrons. 

It’s going to be the longest fucking dinner of your life. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You survive. 

But at a cost. 

And you don’t learn anything new about Joel, except for the fact that your memory hasn’t exaggerated how charming he is, how charismatic, how thoughtful. All the times you’d allowed yourself to daydream about him didn’t hold a candle. Enjoying the meal is difficult, because you just want to get him alone. He can sense it – you’re pretty sure, because he orders himself a coffee after dessert, and sips on it ever-so-slowly, smirking at you over the rim of the mug.

When dinner’s over, you offer to drive Joel home, since he’d gotten a ride here. By this point, the martini is long gone from your system and you sort of want to pour yourself another when you get home. Even if you don’t drink much, the nerves have resurfaced. 

He walks a few paces behind you as you leave the restaurant, taking his time, and you step to your side of the car, making to unlock it – until something grabs your bicep – briskly – and spins you around. 

It’s Joel. He snuck up behind you, you hadn’t heard, and he’s right in front of you now, pinning you between the car and his body, surrounding you entirely. He lifts a hand, cups your cheek, and kisses you. It happens so fast you let out a whimper of surprise – directly into his mouth, but he swallows it down, and cradles you so gently, but still firm. Resolute. I’m not letting you go.

When he pulls back, you notice his cheeks are flushed, ever so slightly. It makes you wonder what you could do to see them get even redder. Your arms have found their way to rest on his shoulders, and you’re boxed in, the handle to your car door digging into your ass. Without a word, just a cheeky grin, he retreats to the passenger's side of the car and gets inside. 

You settle in the driver's seat beside him, and he looks over at you. “Hope that was okay, I couldn’t wait…” he says, almost apologetically. “But I was tryin’ all night to be good.”

“Yeah, well….not much use in that anymore,” you tilt your head. “Do you want to….hang out at my place?”

“Yeah, we can ‘hang out’ at your place,” Joel quips.

Scoffing in mock offense, you offer a retort. “What would you rather me have said? Come over for a nightcap? That’s a little cliche.”

He grimaces, as if he’s in agreement. You continue. “Or would you rather I be more direct? Joel, why don’t you come over so we can have sex?”

That makes him laugh, loudly, and it’s such a warm, comforting sound, you wish you could find a way to capture it and hear it over and over again. “Oh, is that what’s going to happen?” he asks. 

“Guess we’ll find out,” You shrug, trying to play it off, in case you overstepped. Then you focus on putting the keys in the ignition without fumbling. 

It’s not a long drive back to your place, but Joel seems determined to make sure it feels like it is. Either that, or he’s trying to get you to cause an accident. First his hand is resting on the back of your neck, brushing through the hair at the base of your skull. Then it’s on your shoulder, his thumb pressing into your taut muscles. You actually have to bite your tongue so you don’t moan. It’s not even sexual, really, but it just feels good to be touched, especially by him.

Eventually, you hit a stoplight, and while you’re waiting, his hand continues to wander…and comes to rest just above your knee. His hands are fucking huge, first of all, which maybe you’ve noticed before, and there are a few scars and scratches on the backs of his knuckles. It's the weight of it, the warmth of it, the way he’s settled it so casually like it’s nothing – like it belongs there, and he doesn’t even have to ask. Of course he doesn’t. And the confidence, the cockiness. It feels like someone’s taken an arrow to the pit of your stomach, and something thick and hot starts curling down, down, down….

You swallow hard, and he’s looking at you. He doesn’t speak right away, just stares, something dark and unfamiliar in his eyes. 

“I hope I’m doing alright,” voice raspy, low, but still smooth as ever.

Shaking your head, you’re able to surface just enough over the haze of arousal. “You want a performance review?” you tease, giving a small smile. “We should hold off on that until later…” 

That makes Joel laugh again, your stomach flips, and his thumb begins to stroke your kneecap, his fingers kneading into the soft flesh, inching forward to clasp farther inward, nearly grabbing at you, squeezing. The only thing separating his skin from your own is a thin pair of stockings that end dangerously close to where his hand is working. If he finds out that he’s just a few centimeters away from meeting bare skin, you’re afraid of what could happen.

“Joel,” you warn.

“What?” he asks, voice light and innocent.

“You’re distracting me.” 

“You want me to stop?”

No. The light turns green, and you have to hold back the impulse to break every traffic law if it means you’ll get to have him just a second sooner. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“--my room is–” Joel cuts you off with another searing kiss, and it takes a second before you can conjure the self control to pull away again to finish the thought. “--down the hall.” 

“Yeah?” 

He’s got you crowded back against the entry closet of your house, hovering over you, one of his hands bracing itself beside your head, and the other slowly dragging down your body, his lips following….moving down your neck. 

“Uh-huh,” you barely can get it out between strangled gasps for air. 

And then he’s hooking his hands behind your knees. “Are you sure you don’t want, like-” Joel lifts you, and you lock your legs around his torso. “An amaretto or something?”

“No,” he’s gripping on to you so tightly it hurts, but you don’t mind. 

“I could put on….a record-”

“No,” he repeats, and you’re being carried down the hall. 

You hadn’t expected him to pounce on you the instant that you came in through the garage door. Not that you minded. It’s just that usually you’d play it a bit more coy. You’d set the mood, light a candle, have a chat. But, you suppose you don’t need to do anything to get you in the mood. You’re already there. 

Joel’s mouth never separates from you, not until you’re in your room. He’s so sure of himself, you think he might be the type to throw you into the mattress, climb on top of you and rip at the zipper on the back of your dress. But he doesn’t. You’re laid down delicately, like you’re made of glass, and he’s being careful not to break you. 

He weaves his thumb and forefinger around both your wrists, then pulls them up so they’re pinned above your head. This way, you’re completely at his mercy. When he lowers himself between your legs, and you feel the weight of his body pressed against you, you groan, fighting against the restraint, desperate to touch him. So you do the best you can and wrap your stocking-clad feet around his waist, trying to get some leverage, to bring him closer.

“Just wanna take my time with you, darlin’,” he murmurs softly, like he can read your mind. You’re starting to think he can – how else can he be so irresistible on his own accord?

Joel makes good on his promise. With you all docile beneath him, he takes the opportunity to kiss every inch of exposed skin available – even though you’re still fully clothed. Each press of his lips has you breathing unevenly – sighing, then gasping, then sharp, short inhales. When he finds a particularly sensitive spot on your neck, you can’t help but giggle and quirm. 

Joel huffs in response, releasing you from his hold, and he tilts his head to whisper in your ear. “Do you have any idea how much I like hearing that? Knowing it’s because of me?” Immediately, you lower your hands to cup his cheeks, to regard him. He can’t be serious. 

“You’re too sweet,” you mutter. 

“So are you,” he answers, and ducks his head to return to your neck. “So sweet, and so fucking pretty, too…” His hands begin wandering, one of them cupping your breast, thumb finding a peaked nipple even through the fabric of your dress and your bra. The words he’s saying are too much, you’ll do anything to make him shut up, arching your back so you can feel him – already hard – against your clothed core. 

“Joel-” 

“God, I want to see you-fuck!” he pulls back, rolls you over, and you shift your weight so he has access to the dress’ zipper at your side. He makes quick work of it, and brings you to a seated position, helping you remove it all the way before kissing you again, then abruptly stopping. He wants you so badly….but he’s trying to savor the moment. “Let me look at you for a second.”

He takes you in, the stockings you’re wearing and the matching set of black lace you’d picked out beforehand. Of course, you’d thought about this. You always did for occasions like this, but Joel had stumped you. What would he like? This….was pretty understated, but he seemed like a salt-of-the earth guy. Not what you were used to. It probably wouldn’t make a difference whether or not you were in full-on lingerie. And even if you knew he wouldn’t care, you still had wanted to impress him. All the more reason to try.

“This for me?” he asks, hooking his finger on the inside of your stockings and snapping the elastic. 

“Yeah,” you nod, honest. “I want you, Joel.” And there’s more to it, too. You’ve thought about just how badly for months. It kept you up at night, then helped you fall asleep when you couldn’t shake his image from your head. For now, you are going to keep that to yourself. But it doesn’t mean it’s not gonna slip out. Not when he’s looking at you like this. 

“Yeah?” he says, steps forward, towers over you. “I want you, too, so fuckin’ bad. So fucking pretty, baby,” Dropping back to your elbows, you feel…small. Any other time, you might sit up, try to feel some kind of control, but for whatever reason, you stay where you are.

Joel wasn’t exaggerating when he said he wanted to take his time. It’s frustrating. It’s torture. He worships you, makes sure his mouth is on nearly every part of your body before he finishes undressing you. Your ankles hook over his shoulders, his hands grazing, dragging thin nylon up and off each leg. He kisses your calves, the inside of your knees, your thighs. He uses one hand to unhook your bra and pulls it away. He spends what feels like hours with his mouth on your breasts – sucking, licking, nipping – hands cupping, grabbing, pinning you down. The whole time, he’s telling you how badly he wants you, how pretty you are, how good you’re being for him. He’s either touching you too much, or maybe not enough. It’s hard to say. Only after he’s reduced you to an incoherent, whimpering mess do you somehow find the strength to fight back. 

By this point, you’re lying in the middle of the bed, your leg hooked over his hip, the waistband of his jeans digging into bare skin. He’s still got all his fucking clothes on, which makes everything so much worse, because it’s clear whose in control here, and it’s certainly not you. 

The button of his flannel is where you start, and then you work downward. Joel doesn’t stop you at any point. You think he might, just because of how things have been going. But he’s as easy as you are, and you take him in all the same after you’ve shucked off his jeans, and he’s closer to your state of buff.

To be fair, you’ve spent enough time lingering by the windows – when he’s outside mowing the lawn shirtless, or picking up his newspaper in the morning, or doing workouts in his garage with the door open (such a tease!) – to have an idea of what to expect. He’s not ripped by any means but neither are you – and you’ve never liked that anyways. But it’s not hard to ascertain that he spends all day in the sun, lifting and hauling things around. His muscles are defined, rippling lightly under his skin with each panting breath he takes. Joel’s a spectacle – broad and tan, a line of dark hair dipping from his belly-button down into the waistband of his dark-gray briefs. You can make out the way his cock is straining against the fabric.

Once you’ve appraised him as best as you can – you can see that he’s studying you, almost like he’s anxious, like you might not like what you see. As if he doesn’t know. Ridiculous. You aren’t going to leave him guessing. “You’ve got to be kidding me, Joel,” you shake your head. “You’re a fucking stud.”

Joel’s face breaks out in a grin and he yanks you back so you’re on top of him, legs on either side of his chest. And finally, finally, you can touch him like you’ve been wanting. His skin is warm – it’s kind of hot in your room, you’d forgotten to turn on the A/C, so you’re both a little sweaty. But and it’s unclear if it’s because of the heat or just how worked up you are. It doesn’t matter, because it only turns you on even more. You trace the broad plane of his chest, hand snaking down…all the way to his boxers, but he stops you. 

He’d let you undress him, allowed it, but this…it crosses a line. Joel hooks his hands behind your thighs and begins to drag you up, up, up, while he shifts lower. It takes a second to register what he’s doing, and when it does, you try to stop it.

“Joel, wait I-” 

“I have to taste you darlin’, that okay?” His dark hair is fanned out around his head, resting on your floral pillowcase. In the dim light, his pupils are so blown out you can barely see anything else except black. “I’ll give you whatever you want, but you’ve gotta let me taste you first.”

It’s not that you don’t want it, but he’s taken you off guard, and you’re already overwhelmed by how intimate all this has been, gentle and languid while he whispers honeyed words into your ear. His mind seems already made up, and you don’t really want to tell him no.

“Alright,” you manage, and you grip the top of the headboard. 

It’s embarrassing how wet you already are. It started with his hand on your knee in the car, and you have spent the last hour clenching around nothing, squeezing your legs together and searching for friction. Anything. Well, you are about to get it.

Joel’s lips press to the insides of your thighs, once more, dangerously close to where you’re weeping for him. His nose bumps your clit when he turns his head, and you whine – hips sinking to seek the contact that he’s been denying you, and then immediately pulling back in a moment of clarity.

“No, no,” Joel’s hands immediately land on your hips to hold you in place, bringing you lower. “Stay right there for me.”

You don’t dare move. 

Finally, his mouth finds you. You think he might tease for a little bit, go slow, because he’s been doing that all night, and it’s become infuriating. But he doesn’t. He eats you out, laves at you. A hot, velvet tongue that works up a steady rhythm. It’s interrupted only by the vibration of his moans every so often, which only add to the pleasure. For a moment, you miss how he’d been talking to you before, but you’re so sensitive, so eager, that you think you’ll sacrifice anything if it means he’s not going to stop. Joel keeps you still with a bruising grip on your hips. All you can do is let him have his way and whimper his name over and over, listen to him groan in response. 

Being consistent is key for you. And Joel is nothing but. Practiced, but feral….like he’s been holding back all night. It’s been a long time, or maybe he’s just that excited, it’s hard to tell. Either way, it doesn’t matter. Can’t bring yourself to care about much more than him, the man below you working you over with just his mouth. 

“I’m…Joel, I’m-” you try to pull off again, it’s too much, but he doesn’t allow it. Even if the position he’s in is compromising, he’s managed to find a way to assert himself. The coil inside you has wound so tightly that almost every muscle in your body is tense. Now, can’t even move, not even if you wanted to, and he keeps going, your words have only made him more determined.

The coil snaps. You cry out, using the headboard to stifle your noises – not worried that it will probably leave a mark. If you get nothing else from Joel, then at least it will serve as a reminder that he was here, beneath you, lapping up everything you have to give him. The orgasm leaves you weak, trembling, but he holds you up, works you through it until the waves begin to cease, and then you’re so overstimulated, so sensitive that you start to feel lightheaded. “Fuck, Joel, I can’t-” You tug on his hair, hope he’ll get the hint and release you, but he doesn’t. If anything, it only spurs him on.

His mouth is white hot on you, his tongue damp, firm as it circles your clit and drags downward. He gives you nowhere to go, no opportunity to come down from the high, so within minutes, or seconds – at this point, you’ve lost track of time – he’s worked you up to the precipice of release, and you’re coming again, crying out to him.

At last, he eases off, lets you relax. You do, carefully, and so does he, gradually removing his mouth from you while your hand untangles from his dark curls. Joel holds you steady as he sits back against the headboard, keeping you splayed across his lap. You don’t waste your time saying something stupid like “you didn’t have to do that,” because you’re not gonna pretend you didn’t love every second, but mostly because you’re not sure you’re capable of speaking just yet. His hand catches your jaw, and he looks at you – innocently, like he hadn’t just done what he had done, like his fucking beard, and chin, and lips weren’t still wet with you. But the ornery glint in his eyes gives him away. “You liked that?” he has the audacity to ask. 

A shaky hand comes to pinch your eyebrows as you let out a weak laugh, nodding. “Yeah, Joel….yeah.”

“Good,” he answers. 

“I was right about you,” you manage. 

“Yeah?” He murmurs, and his hand skates up your arm, the other settling on your waist. It’s grounding, reassuring as your heart attempts to steady its beating. 

“You’re trouble.” 

“Yeah,” Joel murmurs, and he leans in close. “Only for you, pretty girl.” 

Your hips jolt back at the term of endearment, so much so that you feel the length of his cock, hard against your ass. It’s your turn to take care of him, but it shouldn’t be difficult, because your arousal is already building again. It’ll be much, much, easier to come again, specifically around him. Plus, right now, you are willing to do just about anything for him. You kiss him, and it’s sloppy, lick the taste of yourself out of his mouth. Heat curls again in the pit of your stomach, and you grind yourself down on him through his underwear.

Joel’s head falls back, bonks the headboard, and the thud of impact is overshadowed by his agonized moan. You reach down between your bodies, let your touch land over his clothed cock. He pants out your name. So many things you could do – with only your hand, or your mouth, but before you can decide, he speaks again.

“Wanna be inside you,” he grits out. “So fucking bad.” 

“You don’t want me to-”

“No,” he cuts you off. “No, no. I need you.”

“You can have me,” you nod, leaning forward to kiss his neck, pushing down the elastic of his underwear. Joel lets you, his hips stuttering, until he freezes. “Shit.” He reaches out to halt your movements.

You look up, his eyes are wide. “What is it?”

“I’m sorry, I uh, I left my wallet in the car,” Joel’s voice is pinched, palms leaving your body to press against his eyes, frustrated. “I brought condoms, but they’re - I’ll have to go get them.”

“I have some,” you pipe up, nodding towards your bedside table. Joel reaches for it, but it's your turn to stop him. “But I mean, I’m clean,” you say. “...And I have an IUD, so…” 

Joel pauses, stares at you under thick lashes. “You sure that…” So tentative. “....That’s okay with you?” 

You feel yourself smirk a little as you look at him. It’s not something you’d allow anyone to do. But you’re feeling a little lost in the moment. The part of your brain that usually tells you to run for the hills whenever things get too real has turned off. It’s not the first time he’s caused that, and you sort of enjoy the delusion. There’s no question. It’s Joel.  “Oh, yeah.”

The words ignite something in him that you weren’t entirely prepared for, and he’s pulling you hard against his mouth with one hand, while the other pushes his briefs down the rest of the way. You don’t get the chance to see him, to feel him, before he’s lining himself up with your slick cunt. 

It’s a soft glide of sensitive skin across sensitive skin, and you shake with anticipation. You don’t even know you have your eyes closed, focusing on the sensation, until you hear Joel’s voice. 

“Open your eyes,” he commands. “Please just-” he swallows hard. “I wanna watch you. So fucking pretty.” 

You obey, and he guides your hand to replace your own. It’s not until your hand wraps around him that you’re aware of just how thick his cock is, throbbing and leaking, and it makes you all the more eager. Slowly, you start to sink down, but it’s too challenging to take him all at once. So first, just the tip, you roll back to ease the sting, then gradually sink lower and low. 

Joel moves closer to you, holding his breath, guiding you along, propped back against the pillows. “That’s it, so fucking good, baby…”

You understand why he was moving so languidly earlier. This is meant to be enjoyed. After some time, and lots of praise, your hips settle flush with his own, and he’s seated fully inside of you. It’s a delicious stretch that your body isn’t fully ready to accommodate, but it has your toes curling and mouth hanging open, bearing down on him involuntarily. Under Joel’s watchful gaze you feel terribly, terribly exposed. 

“Keep going,” Joel encourages. So you move. It’s experimental at first, small ruts against him, getting used to the way it feels. It doesn’t take you long to find the spot that makes you abandon eye contact, throw your head back, and –

“Oh, Joel.”

“Yeah?” he asks, and he sounds strained, pinched – he’s holding back, but still enjoying every second. “That feel good?”

You nod furiously. He lets you find a rhythm that works for you, lets you take your time, and once you do, he starts to match your pace. His hands don’t stay in one place for very long. First, they’re resting gently on your ass. Then they’re cupping your tits, watching them bounce as they sway with your movements. He brings his knees up behind you, pressing his feet into the bed, and uses the leverage to fuck himself deeper each time you lower yourself onto him. 

At this point, you’re unaware of what types of noises you must be making, and you’re thankful that you’re alone so you can be as loud as you want. His cock is hitting places inside you that you didn’t know existed, and rolling across the same spot over and over and over. 

“You feel so perfect for me,” Joel says, his jaw clenched, his chest rising and falling. “So, so good, baby, so fucking pretty.” 

“Mm-hmm,” is all you can answer, nodding furiously and feeling yourself grow wetter and wetter with every thrust. 

You’re too easy for him. And you were too worked up to begin with. “Joel, I can’t-”

He slams his hips up into yours so hard you cut yourself off with a choked gasp. Then he does it again. “You gonna come for me?” he asks. “I can feel you, baby, I know it’s close.” 

“Y-yeah,” he’s got you stammering on your words. You’re clamping down onto him so tightly it hurts. But you’re so desperate to come, to feel what it’ll do to him, that you don’t stop.

“Come here,” he murmurs, hands around your waist, pulling you down so your lips are nearly touching. “Stay close to me.”

“Oh, fuck, oh-” The warmth of his body so close to yours, your hands bracing themselves on his chest, the comfort of his arms around you, all coupled with one vicious rut of his hips has you right there. Joel tilts your head back just enough so you’re forced to look directly at him – and then you come undone. 

You want to close your eyes, turn your head, but you’ve got nowhere to go, and he’s right in front of you. Joel’s touch slides up your back, draws you even closer, and you ride out your third orgasm of the night while pressed entirely against his chest, forced to be vulnerable in a way you’ve never been with anyone before. “So good, baby, so good. Such a good fuckin’ girl for me,” he praises you through it, works you through it, until you’re all but melted in his arms, and he still hasn’t pulled his eyes away.

Utterly spent, you know, distantly, somewhere, that he has to come. However, Joel takes over, flips you both so you’re underneath him, and presses himself deep into the cradle of your pelvis. He’s heavy on top of you, but the weight is somehow soothing.

“I thought about you,” you murmur, hoping it’ll help. His jaw is set, solely focused on his own release. “How good you’d feel.”

“Fuck, really?” he grunts. “I-I- did too.”

“Yeah?” you ask, feeling flush at the admission. “I thought about….letting y-you use me.”

Joel groans your name, curses loudly, ruts into you even harder. You can feel him throbbing, so fucking close, and you arch yourself up to meet him, pleasure already building again, even though you thought it wasn’t possible. 

“It’s so much better, Joel, you’re so much better–” 

Than I imagined. But you don’t have to finish the thought. The idea of you, thinking of him, seems to be enough as it is, and you feel him pulsing, warmth blooming and spreading out as he groans, throws his head back and spills himself impossibly deep inside you. If you weren’t utterly spent, the feeling of him coming – and nothing between you, probably would have set you off again. For now, it’s enough.

His whole body goes limp as he relaxes his arms from where they’re braced on either side of you, his head falling into the crook of your neck. You hear him take a few, haggard breaths once it’s over, and then a deep chuckle vibrates in your ear. “Fuck, baby.”

You rub his shoulder lightly to soothe him, and his lips find the underside of your jaw, kissing lightly his beard scratching your cheeks. For an undetermined amount of time, he remains there. Normally, you’d probably check his watch, but you’ve noticed that the one he always wears is broken, and really….you feel content.

Finally, Joel pulls away, cursing under his breath and withdrawing from you. He runs his hand through his hair, and flops on his back by your side, and you feel horribly empty. After he’s cupped your cheek, turning you gently to look at him – he gives you a tender, affectionate smile. 

It hits you like a freight train. 

He was not the type of man you dated. The men you dated liked to slap, choke, withhold. That had always been what you’d gotten off to. The more frenzied, the more impersonal – the better. That wasn’t to say Joel hadn’t been passionate. But you’d never experienced anything like this before.

You tear away from his gaze, focus on the ceiling. Heart pounding, threatening to break through your ribs, you feel your mouth dry up, your eyes burn and fuck – you’re about to cry. Try to turn yourself away from him, but he sees it. 

“You alright?”

“Yeah, just uh-” your voice catches on the lump forming in the back of your throat and cracks audibly, raw. 

“Hey– ” you hear the mattress shift, he’s moving closer, and you start to scramble. You’ve gotta leave. Get to the bathroom, compose yourself. “Where are you goin?”

“Joel, I just need to-” but his hand circles your wrist, and you don’t have the power to resist him. The bones of his hand press firmly in your cheek, turning your head so you have to look at him. There are tears in your eyes.  

“What’s wrong, baby? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Up close you can see that his eyes aren’t brown – they’re hazel. Mesmerizing, long lashes – gold and green rimming his irises. How had you not noticed that before? 

“No, no not at all it was just…” you’re talking so fast, not even sure where you’re going with the sentence. “I’m sorry, I liked it I just-I don’t know,” you stutter. Shaking your head, you cover your face. You don’t want to feel this way with him here. “I’m not used to-” 

Joel, who has never seen you at a loss for words, frowns, draws you against him. “Come here.”

“It’s okay,” he lets you press your face just below his jaw. He’s being so soft, it makes everything that much worse. Tears slip down your cheeks, landing on his skin. He strokes your hair, holds you so tightly, firmly, "It was intense, huh?” 

You want to resent the way he’s speaking to you – like you’re a child who fell off her bike and skinned her knee, and not a grown ass woman realizing how disconnected she’s felt with every other partner until now. But unfortunately, it’s kind of working. You murmur an affirmation in response. ”I’ve got you, it’s okay,” he promises. 

He holds you until the tide of emotion swells, settles, lips against your temple, his fingertips tracing up and down your spine, and gives you the time to compose yourself.

“That was really nice, I promise,” you say, eventually. And then, because he’s been so gracious, you’re honest. “It’s just been…a long time…” Forever, really. “Since I felt…”

“I know,” Joel nods. “Me too. It’s alright.” 

“Yeah,” you bob your head. He holds your face reverently, and pulls you in for a chaste kiss before tucking you back against his chest. You close your eyes, nestle against him. He strokes your hair while you listen to the steady beat of his heart.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The next thing you know, you’re being gently shaken awake. Somehow, you’d fallen asleep. 

“Hey, baby,” Joel murmurs softly. 

“Mmm?” you groan in response, exhaustion clinging to your limbs. 

“I’m sorry, I gotta get going.” 

You scoff into his neck and make a noise of protest, still not entirely roused, he’d woken you too delicately. When he speaks, his lips brush against your forehead, hands still tracing up and down the lines of your body and making you shiver. “I told Sarah and Tommy I’d be home by midnight.”

“Right,” you mutter, finding the strength to push yourself off of him and stretch. Joel sits up, very tentatively releasing you from his grip. 

“I’m sorry I had to wake you, I can see myself out.”

“No, no,” you shake your head. “No, please. Do you need anything?”

“Can I use your bathroom?” 

“Of course,” you point towards the ensuite. 

Joel collects his discarded clothes off the bed, then the floor, and disappears. You hear the sink running, watch the shuffling shadows he casts in the crack below the door. While he’s doing that, you slip into your robe and run your fingers through your hair, taking in the disheveled state of your bed, before deciding to clean up in the extra bathroom down the hall.

On your way back, you run into Joel, who looks better than ever, tanned skin glowing, a soft smile on his face. “Hey,” he says. 

“Hey.” 

“This was nice. I had a really good time.” 

“Me too.”

“Will you…” he trails off, rubs his jaw. “Will you be okay? I don’t want to-”

“I’m fine,” you say, dismissively. “I just had a moment.”

“You sure?”

“Of course.” Joel studies you carefully, and you’re prompted to continue. “I promise. Joel. This was nice.”

“It was,” he grins. “I’d like to see you again.” 

“Me too,” you don’t even think before you answer, despite everything. It surprises you, how willing you suddenly are.

“Good.” He kisses you, slow and lingering. “I’ll give you a call.” 

“Okay.”

-

part vi

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[savannahsdeath]

call me silly but i cant stop thinking about hogwart au ellabs uhhh istg . i cant . also im pretty sure im the first one to make a hogwart au so please give ib if you want to make your own fic🤭 if im not the first one then sorry and please lmk who is !!

summary: you're roommates with your best friend and girlfriend, which don't seem to get along well.

﹒⪩⪨﹒

you and abby often wondered what's ellie doing in gryffindor, as the setting hat had doubts itself, wanting her to go to the slytherin for a split second.

"i mean, i'm happy she's with us." you quickly explained, realizing she might hear you through the bathroom door.

abby frowned, not looking away from her book. "oh, you are? and why, exactly?"

you laughed, leaning in to see what is she reading about, but she slammed the book shut with a loud bam! right in front your nose. "well, first of all, she's my girlfriend. self explanatory—"

"but... why?" she cut you off and sat up. "what do you see in her?" oh, you knew that one. it wasn't the first 'you deserve better' talk you had with abby. "wouldn't you rather to be with someone smarter, stronger and, i don't know, just... not a total loser?"

for a moment you sat there, so close to her your shoulders were touching, with your mouth parted and lips going dry. a moment passed as the door opened and ellie came out, sloppily wiping ruffling her wet hair with the towel. her gaze wandered between the two of you and she raised her eyebrow, but her obliviousness made her shrug the weird feeling off. "how much time do we have?" she asked, ignoring abby's presence, who just went back to reading her book.

"less than an hour." you annouced, getting up and taking the towel out of her hand, replacing it with a little bottle you picked up from your bedside shelf. "drink up."

"the fuck is that?" she twirled the unappetizing green liquid around the glass, noticing it's weirdly dense texture.

abby chuckled, winking at you as if to laugh at your low standards. "just listen to your girlfriend."

you smiled at the blonde girl before looking back at ellie. "it's going to rain, i don't want you getting sick."

"yeah, we don't want to hear you whining like a baby just because you catched a little cold." abby added, smirking as you gave her the stare. her comment passed by ellie's ears, not getting any reaction out of her.

she downed the potion in a few sips, wincing and letting you take the glass bottle out of her hands. she took a deep breath, trying to get rid of the taste. "i'd rather be sick." you giggled and rised on your tiptoes to reach her forehead, placing a loving kiss on it. she smiled for a second, before her face flashed with a grimace again. "wait— it's going to what?"

"it's going to rainnn" abby cooed, mercilessly but melodiously drawing out the vowels. you frowned, seeming to be the only one who doesn't see a reason to panic. yet, ellie was now pacing around the room, stopping to look outside the window. the clouds above the horizon were, in fact, dark blue, what predicted a downpour.

you came up to her, wrapping your hands around her tensed waist. "are you scared of some water?" you teasingly asked, nuzzling your head in the crook of her neck.

"that's not the point." she turned around, taking your hand and parting her lips. you just knew you'll probably spend the next minutes listening to the rules of quidditch, hopefully not enough to be late. "you see, when it rains, it's usually quite... foggy. pretty hard to see anything, yeah?"

"yeah, but..." you walked towards the bed, ellie following closely after. "slytherins won't see anything too, so it's fair, isn't it?"

she quickly shook her head and pursed her lips in a tight line, as if disappointed you don't get it. "someone gifted them special lenses. someone— i mean, anonymously, but everyone knows who it is. their captain's father." she stood in front of you as you sat down, fiercely gesticulating. "fucking bastards. they think money can solve everything... well, it kinda does but—"

"can you shut the f..." abby chimed in, deciding against cussing in the last moment. "...up. jesus, i'm just trying to study." she rolled her eyes as the attention was now on her.

"what are you even studying?" ellie walked closer to her, trying to see the book's cover through the blonde girl's pulled up knees, which she used to lean the volume on.

abby was quick to get defensive, closing the item as soon as she made sure the tab is on a right page. "none of your business."

"it doesn't look like one of our student's books at all..." ellie teased, tauntingly smiling as she got closer.

you sighed, taking a deep breath before speaking. "come on, els, we gotta go - get you ready and everything." you stood up and started rummaging through the drawers to think what should you take with you. ellie nodded and left your dorm, promising she'll wait for you before entering the quidditch's pitch.

"you really should go, it can be fun." you friendly nudged abby's shoulder, trying to keep your eyes away from the pages of her book, which seemed to attract your gaze and curiosity.

she looked up at you, visibly annoyed that she has to repeat it for the hundredth time. "that's not my thing."

that's not my thing.

yet, about fifteen minutes after the match started, you felt her warm presence next to you. she didn't say a word, probably too embarrased to admit she somehow got convinced to get her priorities wrong.

yet, you could hear her breath hitch when she saw your rivals score another point. no matter how hard the rain would hit her, soaking through her clothes, she'd calmly stand her ground and squint her eyes to see how bad the situation is.

yet, you eventually noticed she was holding her wand the whole time. and you noticed how her grip tightened as she mumbled a few words under her breath, inaudible because of the cheers. you couldn't believe it, but after a few minutes the clouds turned purely white and bright sun rays made people take off their coats. the same abby anderson, who always had to be the best student, not letting herself be distracted from studying just broke one of the school rules.

"you know you're going to have problems if anyone finds out?" you innocently looked up at her, gratefully smilling.

"then don't snitch on me." she shrugged, admiring the weather, which was her own creation.

yet, she made gryffindor win.

✧˖°

let me know if you want to see more!

[magics-neptunes-things]

Christmas Cooking

Hi guys!

Here is one with this sweet cutie pie that is Lia :)

This one is shorter but please enjoy it!

TW : None

Your girlfriend is, in your humble opinion, the most lovely and cute person in the world. Before you even found the courage to propose her a date, you always had this soft spot for her. The way her eyes shine when you accept one of her demands or the falsehoods digging in her cheeks make you simply unable to refuse her anything.

And God knows how much your teammates tease you about it. But over time you’ve made a point and accepted your destiny. You're so wiped about your girlfriend.

So, when Lia asks you with a baby pout if you can make Christmas cookies this afternoon, she doesn’t need to use all her persuasion to make you agree. You both live in London a few hundred meters from each other, but Lia took you in her suitcase when she returned to Switzerland to her family.

After a visit to the Swiss supermarkets, Chocolat's paradise, you gathered the necessary ingredients and found yourself wearing an apron and a dispenser to prepare the dough.

The kitchen is quite a mess to be honest. There is floor everywhere, an impressive number of plates and utensils in the shrink. You somehow lose the scissors and you can't remember why your shirt is wet.

"Baby stop eating the dough" Lia laughs, clapping your hand away.

"Wasn’t me" you answer, mouth full of said dough.

Lia laughs again before focusing again on the recipe book. She must still be one of the only people to follow a recipe on a book, but it is also for this kind of singularity that you fell in love with her.

"Sugar" she asks you, reaching out without leaving the book with her eyes.

You hesitate to tease her once again, before deciding to be wise and to give her the bowl of sugar that you weighed carefully earlier. Lia saw things big, wanting to prepare three different kinds of dough. But she seems to be having a good time and you’re having a lot of fun too, to be fair.

"Milk, Pretty, please"

Once again, Lia reaches out and this time you don't resist. With a big smile, you press your face on her hand.

"You’re unbearable" Lia laughs, putting a tender kiss on your lips.

"You love me" you answer maliciously, holding out the milk.

"That I do"

A few dozen minutes later, several cookie are in front of you and have cooled enough for you to decorate them. You spend a long time preparing your trees, adding green dye and Smarties as Christmas balls. Lia is more adventurous and you are amazed by her talents as a cookie decorator.

When you are done, you clean the worktop before washing your hands and try to get rid of the green dye that has invaded your hands. You’ll soon be able to play the Grinch. When you are done, your eyes are once again drawn to your girlfriend who is always focused on her cookies.

She has red dye on her cheek and hair that escapes from the ponytail that she made so as not to be disturbed while cooking. She is focused on her work, tongue pulled to the side. You don't resist the urge to put yourself behind her, passing your arms around her waist to put a tender kiss on her cheek.

"You’re so cute" you whisper in her ear, smiling as she shivers.

You just have to put a kiss behind her ear to distract her and make her look at you.

"You are a real inconvenience"

Her harsh fake tone doesn't work and you laugh maliciously and squeeze her against you. Lia soon smiles in turn, turning entirely in your arms to steal a kiss before returning to work. You remove the red stain from her cheek with your fingers, staying still to let her finish. You’re actually almost mesmerized by the way she decorated her cookies.

If one of you gets hurt too badly to continue football, you can always switch back to it.

********

YourInstagram and Liawaelti

Liked by leah.williamsonn, alessiarusso99, ana_crnogorcevic and 20 882 others people.

YourInstagram Preparing my (hopefully distant) future profesionnal conversion

See the 218 comments

jbeattie91 Save me some! ↳ YourInstagram Sure! ↳ liawaelti She already eat all of them ↳ YourInstagram Traitor

[mrsmidnight15]

Cod MWii x (gn)Reader Sfw & Nsfw headcanons

Characters: Valeria Garza, Cap. Jonathan Price

this is a bit short cause im still getting back into writing, ill hopefully be writing longer stuff soon🎉( @sleepiexx @sheeluvsme you two are entirely to blame for this😭)

all nsfw will be at the very bottom together!

🩷valeria🩷

Because of her line of work it can be hard trying to find fun things to do together out and about without risking being seen unless you're out of the country or dressed up but Valeria has no problem coming up with things to do with you inside or in enclosed outdoor areas.

She's a smart woman and her gears don't stop turning off work. If you can play chess be prepared for total warfare, she will wipe your ass clean off the board regardless of your skill and can go for as many rounds as you're willing. However if that isn't your thing there's still plenty of other logic, mystery and puzzle games to play together.

Loves dancing, if her favorite song comes on she's immediately on you, pulling you to the floor and teaching you the steps if you don't know. If you're physically unable to then she will put on a show, completely mopping the floor. If she's feeling cheeky or you're especially shy she will start dirty dancing to try and fluster you.

💕john💕

Whenever John gets home on leave he always dedicates the first couple days to relaxing with you, he always feels horrible having to spend so much time away from you and it's his own sorta way for making up all the lost time.

turns into a total cuddlebug, and if you aren't cuddling he's still finding someway to stay close or in physical contact with you. Rests his head on your lap if you're preoccupied with an electronic or book, playful kicks and footsie under the table while you're both eating dinner.

LOVES taking baths with you, thinks it's the perfect time for you guys to just unwind and take care of each other. goes feral when you wash his hair and scratch his scalp, if you want to rile him up all you need to do is give a couple light pulls. Tries to make you laugh by building up shapes on his head with the bubbles. insists on drying you off himself when you both get out.

NSFW

Valeria

DOMMY MOMMY

although i don't think she has a mommy kink the dommy part still stands

she loves the feeling of being in control of your pleasure, taking and giving it as she pleases

Likes restraints, not only for the power it gives you but she also enjoys knowing that feel safe enough to be so vulnerable and exposed just for her

A bit possessive, loves having you repeat her name while you're seeing stars. Asking you who you belong to, making you swear no one else will ever see or feel you like this even though she already knows the answers

one of her top kinks is for sure overstimulation. Gets off on how far gone you get, solely reliant on her to keep you grounded and well. absolutely loses it in a good way when you first start squirming, simply using her weight to keep you pressed down and pliant

Will not stop until you're writhing and begging her, mocks your whines and pleas for mercy while cranking up the vibrator pressed to your sweet spots. she's really good at reading you though and always knows when to stop before it starts to become uncomfortable or needing of safeword

John

he tends to prefer domming most of the time, just enjoys having you let go for him and have fun and gets off on it too

Won't be opposed however if you ever feel like taking the reigns, he's pretty cool with most things and trying stuff out as long as your happy

manhandling kink for the win, goes both ways depending on if you or him is the bigger one

If he is, which he's quite used to being, he loves taking you up against a wall. likes having you a bit closed in, forces you to focus only on him. enjoys having your full attention to himself

If you are, he likes positions where you're on top or over him. likes being able to have a good view of you while still pressed together and the pressure of your weight is very calming to him as well

Sucker for dirty talk, likes when you do it too but if you're too shy or don't have the capacity for it he'll gladly talk the whole way through. About how good you look, how perfect you feel around/inside him. when he's close to cumming he voice gets growly and low, whispering sweet things in your ear as you both come undone

[naomiwritesbooks]

How to nail character descriptions

1. DON’T GIVE EVERYTHING AWAY AT FIRST!

I cannot emphasize this enough! Often, when you introduce new characters in your book, the first thing you want to do is write out three paragraphs of character description. The problem with this is that it usually feels like filler, and your reader will skip over this information or forget about it later. I used to struggle with this, so let me tell you what to do instead.

2. CREATE A CHARACTER PROFILE!

As a pantser myself, I can tell you that despite how much you may hate creating character profiles, they are so important! Having all the descriptions of your characters' physical attributes on a separate document or notebook will help with your writing significantly. (In another blog post, I can explain what else you should include in your character profiles.)

3. SPRINKLE IN PIECES OF DESCRIPTION OVER TIME ESPECIALLY MAIN POINTS!

Instead of opening each character's introduction in your story with a massive description dump, take main points from your character profile and state those and then the rest over time. You may feel like you need to dump everything, but it’s less overwhelming if you sprinkle in details as the story goes on.

FOR EXAMPLE,

Instead of:

The door opens to Will's loud voice, and I freeze as my eyes land on Bonnie. Her straight hair is blue, dark blue. She’s chubbier than I remember; her body evens out with wide hips. She looks about 5’3? Her frame is too short. Her face is full of piercings aligning her big lips and round nose. Her gray eyes are too big for her heart-shaped face. Even her lashes are too long, brushing her eyebrows. Her dimples are deep holes in her cheeks.

I swallow. Hard.

“Woah!” Her eyes are wide as she looks from me to Will. “You don’t even look like you! You’re huge! Glowed up for sure! How tall are you? Wait, that's kinda rude isn't it? I didn’t even say Hi. Hi!” She smiles, offering a hand.

Everything about her is too much.

She's too much.

Try:

The door opens to Will's loud voice, and I freeze as my eyes land on Bonnie. Her hair is blue, dark blue. She’s chubbier than I remember, but her body evens out with wide hips. Her frame is too short. With gray eyes that are too big for her heart shaped face.

I swallow. Hard.

“Woah!” Her eyes are wide as she looks from me to Will. “You don’t even look like you! You’re huge! Glowed up forsure! How tall are you? Wait, that's kinda rude isn't it? I didn’t even say Hi. Hi!” She smiles, offering a hand. Dimples digging into her cheeks.

Everything about her is too much.

She's too much.

The rest of the information listed before can be sprinkled in later. For example, Bonnie has dimples, so we can state that information when she smiles(as done).

This is what has worked for me and my writing, but it may not work for you in all situations. But for most, don't character dump unless prompted. Hopefully, this helps!

[princesssarisa]

I'm now reading Heidi Ann Heiner's book Cinderella Tales From Around the World. Hopefully it will make me as knowledgable about those stories as that inescapable old post of mine has probably made people think I am.

The different Cinderella stories are arranged in geographical order. So far I've read all the variants from Egypt, Greece, and Italy, and I'm about to start reading the German versions.

For now, I'll share the most interesting points from the versions I've read so far:

*Not all versions of the tale feature a stepmother and stepsisters. The Egyptian variants don't have any parents in them at all. In the proto-Cinderella story of Rhodopis, the title character is just a Greek slave-turned-courtesan with no family, while the other Egyptian tale, The Magic Jar, just has three sisters living together. Meanwhile, the Greek versions usually give the heroine a loving mother and two cruel biological sisters, with no father. In the Italian versions, there's almost always a father, but it varies whether the wicked women are the heroine's stepmother and stepsisters, or her own mother and sisters, or just two sisters with no mother.

*Greek versions typically have the heroine living with her mother and two older sisters. The sisters murder their mother, then cook and eat her flesh, but the grieving heroine lays her mother's bones to rest in a place of honor. Forty days later, the bones turn into three beautiful dresses and other finery and riches for her.

*Italian versions tend to come in two variants.

***One variant uses the archetypal "heroine's father goes on a journey" scenario, much like the Grimms' Aschenputtel or Beauty and the Beast. When he asks his daughters/stepdaughters for gift requests, the sisters want clothes, but the heroine asks for something unusual (e.g. a bird or a tree sapling), or else she asks him just to greet someone for her (e.g. a fairy, or a far-away relative), and when he does, that person gives him a tiny gift for her. Either way, the gift he brings back is what produces her finery.

***In the other variant, the heroine's stepmother or mother sends her out every day to pasture an animal (a cow, a sheep, or a goat), along with an impossible amount of spinning, weaving, or sewing to do. The animal tells the girl to place her work on its horns, and when she does so, it's magically done. Eventually, the (step)mother finds out and has the animal killed, but the heroine saves either the animal's bones or a golden ball she finds inside its body, and from there she gets her finery.

***That said, a few Italian versions include a fairy godmother-like figure: a kind old woman or a fairy who meets the heroine when she's out in the pasture and gives her a magic wand.

*In Italian versions with a stepmother as the villain, she typically starts out as the heroine's teacher or governess. She treats her kindly then, and urges the girl to convince her father to marry her, which she does. But after the marriage she turns cruel. (Some Italian versions of Snow White also begin this way.)

*Another detail from the Italian versions: in the "father goes on a journey" variants, the heroine warns her father that if he forgets her request, then his ship or his horse won't be able to move either forward or backward. He forgets, and sure enough, his ship or his horse freezes in place until he remembers.

*In the Greek versions, the special event the heroine attends in her magic finery is typically a Sunday church service. Some Italian versions have her go to church too, while others have a royal ball or festival, as does Egypt's The Magic Jar.

*In The Magic Jar, the heroine loses a bracelet instead of a shoe. I wonder if Gioachino Rossini and Jacopo Feretti knew about that version when they replaced the slipper with a bracelet for the sake of "propriety" in the opera La Cenerentola?

*In nearly all these versions, the heroine already has her magic source of finery and knows what it can do before the ball/church. So at no point does she beg to go, or cry because she thinks she can't go. She just lets her (step)family leave, then magically dresses herself.

*In both Greek and Italian versions, there are typically three balls or church services. Each time the heroine leaves, the prince has his servants chase after her. But the cunning heroine throws gold coins or jewels behind her, and the servants scramble to pick them up, letting her escape. Sometimes instead, or when she runs out of riches, she throws sand in their eyes to blind them. In a few versions, she doesn't lose her shoe by accident, but throws it to distract the servants because she has nothing else left to throw.

*Very rarely in any of these versions do the heroine and her prince actively "fall in love." They're not described as dancing together the way they do in the familiar Perrault and Grimm versions. The prince just sees her and falls in love with her beauty, with no mention of whether she ever speaks to him or not.

*In all three of these cultures, some versions continue after the heroine's marriage in the vein of the Grimms' Brother and Sister. The (step)mother and (step)sisters turn the newlywed heroine into a bird, or throw her into a river when she's weak from childbirth, or find some other way to get rid of her. But somehow or other she comes back to her husband in the end.

*The fate of the (step)mother and (step)sisters varies. In some versions, namely the ones where they try to get rid of the heroine after her wedding, they're executed. In some Italian versions that have just one stepsister, the stepmother puts the heroine in a pot or a barrel and plans to fill it with boiling water to kill her, but somehow or other she escapes and the stepsister takes her place, so the stepmother accidentally boils her own daughter to death. But in others, they're just left with their envy, and in still others, the heroine forgives them and shares her wealth with them.

I'll share more about different countries' variants as I read them!

@adarkrainbow, @ariel-seagull-wings, @themousefromfantasyland

[wolfythewitch]

Wolfy, you have not only dragged me into the EPICS, but also now into the prince of Egypt (I'm on my first watch) I did not expect it to be this good, although I'm a little confused on what's going on This is infact an invitation so you can ramble if you please yes yes

HI YES PRINCE OF EGYPT INCREDIBLE MOVIE

It details the story of Moses, specifically found in the book of Exodus (aka, a departure or emigration), and also the story of Passover, a Jewish tradition. If any of my Jewish followers want to talk about that, feel free! My knowledge is very surface level and mostly from what I've read from the bible.

But so yeah at that time, the Hebrew people were slaves under the Egyptian rule, but they were multiplying too much and the pharaoh got nervous. So he ordered that any infant child be taken and thrown into the river. Moses was a baby at that time, and so he would've met the criteria of baby throwing. His mother did not vibe with that order and took Moses, placed him in a waterproof basket, and sent him down the river to hopefully find a better future than drowning. He ends up floating by the royal palace and gets found by the princess, daughter of the pharaoh(tho in the movie they changed her to be the wife instead) who takes a liking to him and decides to adopt him. In the bible, Miriam (his sister who the mother sends to follow him) asks the princess if she'd like a nursemaid, claiming to know someone (that someone being Moses' mother), and the princess agrees, so Moses gets to be with his family for a few years before going back to the palace. In the movie they don't have that and he's taken in directly with Miriam just praying he be safe and come back to them one day. So it's not very explicit in the bible but love the relationship between him and Rameses (I don't think he was actually named in the bible, but historians figured it was him based on contextual evidence) godbless and then he accidentally kills a guy and runs away. He meets tzipporah and his family and gets welcomed in and married and stuff. So the burning bush. Moses' destiny, if you will, is to save his people, and God tells him as much. Go back to Egypt and free his people. Moses doesn't think himself up to it but God says he'll be with him. So he goes back and does. Rameses refuses because that's his entire workforce, and in retaliation God sends down the 10 plagues. With each plague, Rameses hardens his heart and he refused to let Moses' people go. Until the tenth and final plague, the death of the firstborn. Any household with lamb's blood painted on their doorpost, the angel of death will pass over (AYEEE Passover). The Hebrews knew this but the Egyptians did not. Finally, at the death of his own son, Rameses tells Moses that his people are free.

They take their stuff and go. Thing is, to be actually free, they'd have to cross the wilderness. But there's a pesky sea blocking their way, which isn't very great for the whole crossing the wilderness thing. Also, the Egyptians had a change of heart and are going to get them back. So they're trapped between the sea and the enemy. God sends down a pillar of fire to stall them (though iirc in the bible it's like a cloud of darkness and a pillar of light depending on who you were) and while that's happening, Moses goes over and strikes his staff into the water. And the red sea parts before him, giving them a straight path across. You know the rest, with the people crossing and the waters coming down to drown the army and stuff. So now they're officially free from the Egyptians! But they're not done yet, because the main goal is to reach the Promised Land, and Moses is designated to lead them. They do skip ahead a few chapters and have Moses already grab the two stone tablets with the ten commandments, that doesn't happen until later and involves a golden calf haha

[bethanydelleman]

I just watched Persuasion (2022) and I am beyond upset. I watched it with my parents so I had to sit through the entire thing. They don't know much about the Regency Era and they haven't watched any other period dramas so they think that piece of trash is actually a good adaptation.

"He's a ten and I don't trust a ten." WTF?????? Persuasion is my favourite Austen novel and the way they literally ruined Anne is sick.

What was your first reaction to watching it? I wish I could wash all of it away. Any words of comfort that will hopefully cleanse my mind?

I'm so happy you sent this because I've been working up a little rant.

The reason Anne is so wrong, with her near hatred of her own family, rolling her eyes at the camera, the fact that they gave her masculine leaning clothes even, is that Book! Anne Elliot is the poster girl for the unseen, unacknowledged, and underappreciated labour of women.

There is something very fundamental to women's experiences from Austen's time to ours (and I'm sure before) where women do the dirty, mindless, emotional, and unpaid labour that keeps our whole society rolling and get zero credit. And yeah, it's getting better but this problem IS NOT FIXED. Now Anne is upper class so she's not mopping the floor, but this is her experience. Anne plays piano without thanks because without her no one can dance. Anne watches the sick kid so her sister can go to a party. Anne smooths over all the little arguments so that the family can function. She visits sick friends (lifted right out of the movie). She gives and gives and gives of herself and she's "just Anne". Because nothing she does is showy or important in the eyes of the world even though it is vital.

One of the worst scenes in Persuasion 2022 (I mean it's hard to pick there are so many), is how Mary basically manipulates Anne into staying back with little Charles. In the book, Anne clearly has the idea first and offers. In the movie, Mary has the idea and Anne rolls her eyes and groans before offering.

No!

Anne in the book is constantly giving of herself without complaint. Also, she does not want to see Wentworth for the first time! It's going to be painful for her, so she does something selfless but also spares herself from distress.

In that scene in 2022, Anne is a doormat giving in to her ridiculous sister. She also deeply regrets not going to dinner. In that scene in the book, Anne is a compassionate sister who after first attempting to reconcile Mary to her duty, offers to take over. She makes the choice of her own volition and she doesn't regret it.

She knew herself to be of the first utility to the child; and what was it to her if Frederick Wentworth were only half a mile distant, making himself agreeable to others?

It's this complex and emotional scene that was just ruined.

The triumph of Anne Elliot is not just getting Wentworth back, it is that people begin to see and acknowledge her labour and value. The Musgroves are absolutely devoted to her after she helps Louisa. Wentworth sees her worth and declares it in front of everyone. One of the best moments in the book is:

"but if Anne will stay, no one so proper, so capable as Anne."

SHE IS FINALLY SEEN! And valued, and loved! Not romantically (though that too) but because everyone (except Sir Walter and Elizabeth) finally realize how much they need her. The woman who stayed back from a dinner party to nurse a sick child becomes the person they need in a crisis. She goes from the last thought of to the first. In Anne, the necessity of women's labour is finally recognized.

Persuasion 2022 DESTROYED that, and it's infuriating.

Everything else sucks too. To finally give us the scene where Wentworth takes the kid off of Anne but then make him call her stupid? Gah! I was cringing so hard it was painful.

[more-cardigan-than-woman]

The School Trip: Ch 1- Bus Trip

Summary: Jason and yourself are teachers at a high school. This long weekend you are taking all the science kids in your class to Central City to visit Star Labs and the handsome lit teacher has come along as an extra chaperone.

ScienceTeacher!Reader x EnglishTeacher!Jason Todd.

WC: 1.3k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, Slowish burn, multiple parts. mutual pining, teenagers, swearing, NO CAPES, smutty books.

"Mason, you gotta put that under the bus." Jason says, as Mason attempts to carry his full duffle bag through the door of the bus.

"But it's got all my stuff in it?"

"Yeah, all our stuff is under there. It'll be fine." He sees the boy's arms stiffen around the bag, "And how's cherry going to sit next to you with your bags taking up the room?"

"Good point, sir." 

"Nice work," you smile, nudging Jason in the.arm, "thought we'd have to travel with his smelly socks for a second there."

"Unlucky for you, you gotta sit next to my stinky socks the whole way instead." Jason jokes, enjoying the way your nose crinkles at the thought. It’s a small thing, but fuck its cute. This is going to be a long ass weekend, hopefully he can get to know you a bit better. He’s tried over the last few months since you started at his school, but there was always something pulling him away, whether it be curious kids asking questions or the need to get out and get home as soon as possible, there was always something. But now he’s got 3 nights and nearly 4 whole days to get to know the cute science teacher who always seems so much cleverer than him. One thing he knows for certain, something you always seem open to talk about is your cats, Rex and Cody. He’s seen pictures of the Russian Blue and the Orange kitties on your desk and it was the second thing he ever knew about you. 

Zoning back into reality as you try to usher him further onto the bus, before trying to push past him, "how are the cats going to cope without you for a few days?" he asks, not wanting to get into his interrogation of all your interests too early on.

"They'll be good. I've got a friend staying with them."

"A boyfriend?" Jason's eyes stare at your feet as you hop on the bus in front of him. He wants to look at your ass, it looks so good in those fucking jeans, but this is a work trip and he's so thankful that there's 30 fucking kids between you to keep him distracted. He just wants to get to know you, he tells himself, to make a new friend. He had so few friends in the staff, it wouldn’t be appropriate at all.

"Nah, my bestie. She's really cool." You smile as you take your seat at the front of the bus, the loud noise of thirty mouths going at once clogging your ears, "I think you'd like her."

"If she's anything like you-" he's cut off by a loud f bomb called out from the back of the bus and Jason's curiosity dies as Mr Todd rises in his chest.

"Yo! Young people!" You call before Jason even has a chance to stand up, "Mr Todd here is an old soul, so how bout we keep the F bombs to a hushed whisper, yeah?" A quiet sigh of 'yes miss' spread through the seats. "Maybe give him the illusion that the science program isn't running a meth lab?"

"Don't tell him that miss," Keira calls from the middle.

"He'll want a cut of our profits," Jayda laughs.

"Don't cross her, she'll make us do essay's." Andrew sniggers crouched behind a seat.

When their quiet charter starts up again, you turn to sit back down noticing Jason talking to the driver behind you.

"We're ready to go." Jason taking his seat next to you, his legs bunched up, the small confines of the front seat not enough for his massive legs. You try not to think about sitting next to him, about his wide frame nudging you as you bounce along, the long highway towards Central City. You need a distraction, something else to think about and not how his arms look under that fucking cardigan.

"Awesome, can't wait to spend my weekend with these delinquents."

"You're really good with them, you know."

"It's not hard. They're good kids."

"Some of them," he peers around, catching Theo pulling something from his bag.

"Nah, all my kids are great."

The driver pulls from the curb and you push into your handbag, pulling out a book.

"Can I ask you something?" Jason leans over, whispering in your ear.

""You can."

"Are you really selling meth with the kids?"

"Why? You a narc?"

"No. I just- you just- you said and i-"

"Dude chill," you slap him playfully with your book, "you don't need to be so serious."

"So should I read this instead?" He jokes, taking in the risque cover of the book, over the dark fae and his barely dressed companion, "how does a Misty Door work?"

"Shhh." You hush him, snatching the book back, "they think I enjoy reading science journals, don't blow my cover."

"Your secret's safe with me."

4 hrs and 1 nap later.

"Ok, people. We're at our stops for the night. Dinner will be at 6 and Miss has your room keys. Don't wander too far and try not to light anything on fire."

"Try our best." Keira calls out, giving him a wave as the kids start to grab their things and pile from the bus.

"Watch this." You smile at him, your hand wrapping around his bicep as a reflex to get him to stop. But then he looks down at you and you feel your heart start to race, shit. You shouldn’t have touched him. Now he’s looking at you like he’s got a bug on his arm, “Sorry,” you pull your arm away and he ducks back under the bus, "Todd, you're missing it!" you turn from him, not wanting to miss the display yourself. You heard a thud behind you and turn to see him rubbing at a spot on his head, what the fuck was he doing?

He can feel his face heating up, his heart is racing and all you did was have a hand on him. What is going on with him today? Couldn't be the way you let out little snores when you fell on him as you passed through the forest or the delight at how dirty your books are. Calm, calm down, a friend, yeah. She's just being friendly, he convinced himself, but when you call him he can help but respond. Maybe a bit too quickly, "What? What did I miss?"

"Look." You tilt your head towards the crowd of girls, "look what they're doing." You raise your brows in the direction of the young women, trying to get him to notice.

"What are they doing?"

"Just watch."

The girls each walk into the grassy park area near the hotel, each one pulling out a notebook.

"What's in those bags?" Jason asks, noticing how they're laying them in front of them.

"Magic." you nudge him, gently, trying to keep to yourself after the way he reacted to your touch before. "they're doing-"

"Magic? Really? Are they going to turn us into worms?'

"You still wanna hang out with me if I was a worm?"

"Don't think I got much choice. You're the only other adult I know in this city."

"Not for long. We're about to meet the hotel clerk and grab everyone's room keys."

"Yeah, I'm sure she'd be a hoot to hang out with “ he gestures towards the older looking woman behind the counter, the light pink and blue cardigan wrapped over her shoulders and the long pearl string connected to her glasses.

"You never know. She might be a secret spy."

"Now that would be impressive.

“Wouldn't it? She'd look killer in a catsuit and heels.”

“OK, you ruined it.”

“Nah, I made it better.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“I will, cheers. Now let's go sort this shit out.”

“Lead the way.”

Ch 2: Dinner

Taglist: @littleredwing89 @ilikw @bubbles-incorrect-yb @megumisbabymama @nutmeg030 @gone-batty-fics @lovelyrissa @igotanidea @parkjammys @princessbl0ss0m

[positivelyholland]

Hey sunshine, it’s meeeeee!

So could you write something with Chris x daughter reader when she’s not having the best past couple of weeks because her brain just won’t let her communicate what she wants to (her brain just isn’t braining) and chris knows when she gets like this her anxiety is though the roof because she can’t explain anything it’s almost like her mind is just detached from herself it makes her panic badly. So it’s a lot of comfort, bluey and communication strategies because he knows it’s hard for her, so he gets scott to take her out because she’s hasn’t been out the house in a hot minute just to get her some fresh air and some of her comfort foods like apple sauce because it slaps. They just have a fun and slow couple of days until her brain finally decides it wants brain again, even if it’s as slow and spending a day in chris’ bed with bluey or going on a walk with Scott and dodger. Just comfort and to be able to slow down that’s all she needed

pairing: chris evans x daughter!reader

genre: comfort & fluff

summary: when school gets to be too much, you're dad comes and saves the day

warnings: being overwhelmed

A/N: im so sorry that it took me long to respond to this, my dear! hopefully the wait was worth it and this can be all that you wanted it to be

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You sit at your desk, surrounded by what felt like a mountain of books, papers, assignments, and so on. School has become extra overwhelming lately, and you're struggling to keep up.

You had been working on your homework for hours at this point, and you were just about to reach your tipping point.

That tipping point came sooner than you thought as you finished what you assumed to be your millionth essay of the day, just to realize that you didn't save your progress.

That's when the tears started falling.

Just before you about ruined your art homework by crying, you head a gentle knock on your bedroom door. You sniffle, hastily wiping away your tears, and call out, "Come in."

The door creaks open, and you see your dad, standing there with a sympathetic smile. His presence alone is enough to provide some solace. You've always admired him—his kindness, his strength, and his unwavering support.

"Hey, kiddo," Chris says, stepping into the room. "I noticed you've been pretty stressed lately... and now you're crying so I'm a little concerned, mind if I come in and talk?"

You shake your head, and he walks over to your desk, taking a seat beside you. His comforting presence feels like a warm shield against the stress that surrounds you.

"What's been going on, y/n?" Chris asks, concern evident in his voice.

You take a deep breath and pour your heart out, sharing your struggles, fears, and frustrations. You talk about the constant pressure to excel, the feeling of never being good enough, and the anxiety that has been building up within you.

Chris listens intently, his eyes filled with empathy. When you finish, he places a hand on your shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"You know, you're doing a really good job, but i understand that it can be hard to do a good job sometimes" he says, his voice soothing. "But it's important to remember that you're not alone in this. We'll find a way to make it through together."

A glimmer of hope flickers in your eyes as you absorb his words. Your dad, understands your struggles and is determined to help you overcome them. Inspired by his unwavering support, you wipe away the remaining tears and give him a small nod.

"Alright, then," Chris says with a mischievous smile. "Enough of the studying for today. It's time for a break."

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued by his sudden shift in tone. "What do you have in mind?"

He stands up and extends a hand toward you. "How about we go on an adventure? We'll leave the books behind for a while and focus on having fun."

You hesitate for a moment, but the idea of spending time with your dad, escaping the suffocating stress, is too tempting to resist. And besides, you don't get chances to spend an entire day having fun with your dad instead of doing homework.

You reach out, your hand slipping into his, and he pulls you to your feet.

Chris leads you downstairs, and soon, the two of you are stepping out into the sunshine, Dodger's leash in hand. As the three of you walk together, he fills the air with his infectious laughter, making your worries melt away.

First, he takes you to a local park. You swing on the swings, feeling weightless as the wind rushes through your hair. He pushes you higher and higher, shouting encouragement and laughing alongside you.

Doing all this just like you did when you were a little girl. You finished at the park with a game of fetch with Dodger.

Next, you head to the arcade, where Chris challenges you to a series of friendly competitions. You cheer each other on, while both of you still want to be the winner.

As the two of you celebrate victories and laugh off defeats, all the stress and worry seem like distant memories.

When you're both worn out from games, Chris suggests grabbing ice cream. You eagerly agree, savoring each spoonful as you stroll through the city streets, talking about anything and everything. Chris listens intently, offering advice and sharing stories of his own struggles.

"Remember, kiddo," Chris whispers, his voice soft and comforting. "Life can get tough, but it's the moments like these that make it all worthwhile. You're strong, resilient, and capable of great things. Don't let the challenges define you."

His words resonate deep within your heart, filling you with newfound determination. With Chris by your side, you realize that you can face anything that comes your way.

After a good nights sleep, the next morning you settle back at your desk, ready to tackle your mountain fo work with a renewed sense of purpose. Armed with the love and support of your dad, you know you can do anything.