#sinatra first <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[balkanlila]

summer job: listening to every album featured in my 1001 albums you must hear before you die book. in order <3

[silkythewriter]

Vox and alastor with an undeserving to be in hell reader!

Warnings!:non!

Fandom!: Hazbin hotel!

Author note!;I THINK TUMBLER ACTUALLY HATES ME (ﾒ﹏ﾒ)(｡•́︿•̀｡)it keeps not letting me edit my drafts, it’s happened like 3 times already this week alone!,…BUT ANYWAY I LOVE THIS IDEA I REALLY HOPE YOY ENJOY!!!!♡´･ᴗ･`♡

Summary!: alastor and Vox x reader WHOs I. Hell for a minor sin/crime

❤️Written by silkythewriter do not steal or repost any other platform please! <3❤️

ఌ★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★ఌ

“Each time I find myself

Flat on my face

I pick myself up and get back in the race!”

ఌ★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★ఌ

!📺✨Vox✨📺!

When you first admitted what you did that counted as a “sin” he was flabbergasted! He thought they must’ve made a mistake. All be it one that was in favor since he got to be damned with you. But still!

Out of every monster known to man kind one who’ve committed acts that are despicable. You, one who can barely hurt a damn fly get sent with them?

At first he thought you were genuinely just joking. And he actually laughed! Like audible chuckled before waiting for the actual reason, which never came, and he soon realized you were being serious!

He always questioned why you use to refuse to kill, or at least scare people into respect. But then you explained how you refused to be like the rest of the sinners.

He utterly dumb founded you made it this far without spilling a bit of blood, at least for survival!

He becomes more overprotective as if he wasn’t before, good luck with that!

Cause now he knows your rules, he knows you won’t budge. Nothing would get you to change your mind. So he made sure to keep eyes on you 24/7, you may be nice, but the other sinners in this damned place definitely aren’t. And he knows that from experience

Would neither confirm or deny he put a small tracker in an item you carry every where.

This man has enemy’s as you’ve seen, demons, overlords, rival company’s, it’s a headache an a half for him. Not that he hates protecting you and your values! No never!, but the nerve of the people who think they even have a chance to lay a hand on you.

Gives you the lastest phone from his series, and yes he will text you and blow up ur phone up if he can see you through cameras around the city.

Even if you put it on silent he wouldn’t put behind himself to over load it and just show up on your phone screen.

Sometimes he’s just so confused how you can be so nice, or at worst passive to those who are poking at you. He thinks your a saint, even if you aren’t, an maybe you have a short temper still the way you hold yourself form blowing up is astonishing!

Sometimes he jokes about how if you were to go to Charlie you would be redeemed in a day. And at night sometimes he thinks about it and it scares him to know there’s a possibility for you to go where he will probably never be able to follow you too

He loves you to the depths and the crooks of hell, and he’ll be damned again if he lets anyone hurt you. He sees you as a small soft light in the red cover world, and he will do anything before anyone can put out that light.

He makes sure to keep a good distance between you and Val, a BIG distance.

He’s always on the edge about people around you, how can’t he? He can’t trust all these “disgusting and repulsive” sinners in hell around you. The thought alone cringes him out and stresses him.

He knows to some degree he isn’t exactly better then them sin wise, but he makes sure to do his best for you while infornt of you, he cares about his image, and wouldn’t be afraid to scare someone into discipline. BUT he will tone it down, just for you ♥(⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝)♥

He has you under wraps, from the public eye in this case. As much as he’s one to show off his earnings, he loves you a little to much and knows well people will use you as a advantage. He loves to show off but you something just for him behind close doors for now before he can work something out

NOW if the public were to already know, he show off by showing how untouchable you were, demons knew better to approach you seeing as how fast he is to get rid of those stupid enough to try something.

Overall he respects your morals of not wanting to stoop as low as other sinners. But it dose make him more protective of you, your like a rare gem. There’s only a handful of people like you, and even then the numbers decrees daily, so he dose his most to make sure you safe and happy <3

ఌ★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★ఌ

!🎙️✨Alastor✨🎙️!

Like Vix he humors it at first! Playing around with it before Laughing with his usual staticky voice as he stared at you with his unnerving smile. You guys quite literally stared at each other for a hot minute waiting for the other to say something.

It took you clearing your throat for him to realize you weren’t just trying to get a chuckle outta him.

And for the first time since you met him you caught a hint of confusion, making you explain that it was genuinely what you did.

He quite literally burst out laughing, you, someone who probably did something everyone did once is in this horrid place stuck with the horrid monsters ever! Just for that single act alone.

He will admit he found it a bit amusing how you refused to kill or lay a hand on anyone. Refusing to stoop to other people’s levels. Now that for him is pure gold of entreatment! He’s seen people like you, say the same exact thing then crumble when backed I to a Corner.

But for the first time, for all the decades he’s been damned here, he’s seen you stick to what you’ve stated. You were very much quite a spectacle!

Now finding new amusement, he decided to protect you, cause someone like you were sure to be a one time experience. Aside from loving you of course

Now with your name being accosted with him alone is a shield in if its self. Barely any one approached you, aside from those playing with their afterlives of course.

If you ever feel a looming shadow or presence it’s most likely one of his shadows. Like Vox he is gonna have his eyes on you almost always

Although he loves you he will play around to get a reaction out of you. All for the fun of it!, he knows you cringe when he talks about his cannibalism tendencies he just loves seeing your cute little face scrunch up!

Even though with all of that he is a gentleman and will make sure no one is to bother you.

He’s quite impressed you made it this far without getting killed, I mean of course you have him but if you arrived to hell and didn’t met him immediately he’d be quite impressed and surprised one you both do meet

He indulges himself in the horrible aspects of hell, with no remorse or shame what so ever either. So although he dose respect your wishes he won’t stop or calm down his tendencies.. （；へ：）but on the bright side he’ll make sure your far away or he goes off to other part of the city and do whatever he wishes. But your likely to see on the news either way… (￣▽￣💧

He dose enjoy the more civil and nice talks he has with you though! He finds it nice to take a break from all the crude talk on the street from other sinners and have a nice conversation!

Great listener let me tell you, he’ll happily sit there as you explain your day away! He honestly enjoys hearing you genuinely happy!, although his a chatter box himself but he enjoys listening to you more then anyone or anything else!

Watches you be nice to the most repulsive, and rude demon like it’s nothing. Even when disrespected you find a way to calm down the situation and nicely at that. Of course the demon doesn’t live long once their out of your sight, but still! He’s pleasantly surprised.

He finds it rather weird that your nice just for the sake of being nice but still it’s definitely a nice refresher from all the horrible people down in hell!

You catch his eye rather quickly with how you stick out from others (in a good way! ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ) and his eyes end up on you, you mainly have all his attention almost always if he isn’t off doing something!, your his light just live Vox he’ll make sure you’ll shine bright as ever and won’t go out.

Not everyone can catch it but in some rare moments he’ll be seen just staring at you as you happily talk away to Charlie. And for the smallest second you can see his unnerving smile turn into a soft smirk, eyes only on you and his mind filled with only you. This happens on the regular, it’s just he’s quick to cover up so no one sees!

Overall he loves you, even with some differences between your views he’ll still do his best to make you comfortable. Aside from teasing you here and there! But other then that he’ll protect you, your one of kind. And he loves having things no one else can.

ఌ★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★ఌ

AHHHH HELLOOOOO OH GORSH I MADE IT JUST IN TIME THIS TOOK SO LOBG TO DO CAUSE I KEPT HAVING TO DELETE AND REWRITE ON A NEW DRAFT AUGHHH I HOPE TUMBLR FIXES THIS BUG, BUT ANYWAY TYSM FOR REQUESTING PLEASE COME AGAIN!!!\(^ヮ^)/’

[fic-girlie]

I recently read the one where the kids knew that the fox was pedro's voice in the wild robot, how about the kids recognizing their mom (reader) in famous animated movies before like ghibli, inside out, minions or smth (you pick 💞💞) thank you so muchiee 🫶🫶

Wait... That's mommy

Pairing: dad!Pedro Pascal x actress!mom!reader Summary: Lucia and Mateo recognize their mom’s voice in Inside Out and go feral with pride, turning a cozy Sunday with Pedro into a heartwarming celebration. Warnings: established relationship, fluff, domesticity

It starts the way most of your best days do — with cartoons and cereal bowls and someone (usually Mateo) stepping on your foot barefoot with the enthusiasm of a full-body child hug.

Sunday mornings in the Pascal household are sacred. No set alarms. No cameras. No trailers or makeup chairs or cross-country flights. Just mismatched pyjamas, the smell of warm cinnamon from the kitchen, and Pedro humming Sinatra off-key while he flips pancakes with a spatula that has seen better days.

You’re half-sprawled across the couch, legs tucked under you, sipping lukewarm coffee out of the "World’s Best Mom (Voted by Lucia)" mug she made with glitter paint for Mother’s Day last year. Your head rests against Pedro’s shoulder, and his fingers are absentmindedly drawing lazy circles against your thigh. He’s wearing plaid pyjama pants and a faded Columbia hoodie, his hair a fluffy mess that curls at the back of his neck — and for once, he looks like someone who gets to sleep past 5 a.m.

Lucia is nestled in the beanbag like a queen on her throne, tangled in the sherpa throw blanket, her hair wild and haloed in the morning light. Mateo, your six-year-old human wrecking ball, is lying belly-down on the rug, chin in his hands, little feet kicking in the air as he watches the animated movie you queued up ten minutes ago.

Inside Out.

Neither of them know. Not yet.

Pedro grins at you from the side, eyes still twinkling from when you whispered, “Wait for it.”

You sip your coffee again, your heart thudding as you wait for your moment. You still remember the joy of booking the role, months ago now — a part small in screen time but rich in emotion: a voice that guides Joy toward a memory sequence, soft and nurturing, a voice-over recorded late one night while Pedro sat in the next room with both kids asleep on his chest.

“You think they’ll even notice?” you’d asked him back then, laughing.

“Oh, amor,” he’d grinned. “They’re gonna go feral.”

It happens during the memory vault scene. The main character’s journey brings her into a hall of long-term memories, and your voice is the one that softly explains the way memories fade, how scent can bring them back, how joy and sadness aren’t opposites, just partners in disguise.

It’s only a few lines. But they hit. And you know your voice — your storytelling voice — carries a cadence both kids have heard a thousand times over bedtime books and skinned-knee comfort and whispered lullabies at 3 a.m.

Mateo lifts his head first.

His whole little body freezes.

He slowly turns toward the TV, eyebrows scrunched, lips parted.

Then Lucia bolts upright in her beanbag. Her jaw drops. “Wait. Wait. Wait.”

Mateo’s finger points accusingly at the screen. “That’s mommy!”

Pedro bites back a laugh so hard his shoulders shake with it.

Lucia scrambles off the beanbag like it betrayed her, shoving the blanket aside and spinning to look at you with wild, wide eyes. “Is that YOU?! You’re IN the movie?!”

You try to stay casual, but your grin gives you away instantly. “Maybe…”

“IT IS YOU!” Mateo yells, jumping to his feet and running to the TV like proximity will help him figure out how you got in there. “That’s mommy’s voice!”

Pedro finally lets himself laugh — loud and unapologetic, as his head tips back and his eyes crinkle at the corners. “Told you they’d lose their minds.”

Lucia flings herself across the couch into your lap. “Why didn’t you TELL us?!”

Mateo is climbing onto Pedro now, bouncing on the couch. “You’re famous in a cartoon! You’re a cartoon person!”

You cradle Lucia in one arm, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I wanted it to be a surprise. Did you like it?”

“Like it?” she gasps, as if the idea of liking it is absurdly insufficient. “I LOVE it. You sound like… like a memory fairy.”

“That’s the best kind of fairy,” Pedro chimes in, catching Mateo mid-bounce and flipping him onto his back like a wrestler. “Only the coolest moms get to be memory fairies.”

Lucia pulls the blanket back up, cuddling closer. “Mommy, you were so good. Like, you should win an award or something. Do you think you will?!”

Pedro fake-gasps. “Lucia, are you saying your mom deserves an Oscar?”

She nods solemnly. “At least. Or a pancake.”

“Well, lucky for her…” he swings Mateo onto his hip and stands, “Chef Daddy is on it.”

Mateo’s tiny fists pump in the air. “Pancake reward for cartoon mommy!”

You’re still trying not to cry from the sheer sweetness of it. Because it’s not just the way they recognized you — it’s the pride in their little faces. The way Lucia keeps sneaking glances at you like she’s starstruck. The way Mateo is now marching around the kitchen chanting, “My mommy’s a MOVIE!” as Pedro flips pancakes and throws you kisses across the counter.

You stay curled on the couch with Lucia in your lap, running your fingers through her hair, as she rewinds the scene three times just to hear your voice again.

“You sound happy,” she whispers eventually, sleepiness creeping into her Sunday morning excitement.

“I was,” you tell her. “I was thinking of you and Mateo when I recorded it.”

She looks up, sleepy but smiling. “We’re gonna watch this every weekend now.”

Pedro calls from the kitchen, “We should charge Disney for how much she rewinds it.”

You meet his eyes and smile — the kind of smile that says this is everything. Not the lights or premieres or billboards. Just this: your name in the credits, your voice in their ears, pancakes on the stove, your family glowing with love and pride.

Later, when they’re tucked into bed, both of them cuddling plush characters from the movie you now live inside, Pedro comes up behind you at the window. He wraps his arms around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder.

“You know,” he murmurs, “if that wasn’t the cutest reaction I’ve ever seen to someone being in a movie…”

You lean back into him. “They make everything worth it.”

He presses a kiss to your neck. “They’re so proud of you. I hope you felt that.”

“I did.”

“You’re their superhero now,” he adds. “Not just mine.”

You turn in his arms, tugging at the front of his hoodie. “Was I ever yours?”

He leans in, lips brushing your jaw. “From the minute you opened your mouth.”

And just like that, you’re both a memory and a miracle — not just a voice in a cartoon, but a mother and a partner and the woman they’ll all remember years from now as the heart that lit up a Sunday morning.

[ohmytyong]

meet-cute

⤹ now playing: the christmas waltz by frank sinatra

PAIRING: stranger!jaehyun x female!reader

GENRE: smut (minors dni!!), strangers to lovers (?) au, fluff

WARNINGS: alcohol consumption, pet names (baby), explicit sexual content; unprotected sex (!always use protection!), heavy make out, nipple play, slight hair pulling, aftercare, pretty vanilla tbh

WC: 3,4k

SYNOPSIS: you were bummed that you had to spend Christmas all alone in a foreign country after your friends left you behind. little did you you would find a charming stranger to keep you company

A/N: merry christmas to everyone celebrating! here's a little gift from me to you <3

* .♡ *:･ﾟ✧ ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

The muffled voices of people chatting around you mixed with the old christmas song playing from the bar's speakers filled the silence of your mind like a white noise. You whiffed the sweet scent of the red wine swirling inside the glass you were holding as you moved your hand from side to side, making you aware of your surroundings.

Despite it being Christmas eve, the bar was fuller than what you had expected. You would expect people to be gathered up at their homes, eating and having fun with all their loved ones, exchanging gifts and wishes and then getting wasted, laughing at the weird relative who had some more sips of alcohol than the others.

However, it turns out more people had the same fate as you. Sitting alone, in pairs, or in small groups at probably the only open bar in milan on this jolly day. You were informed about the jazz band that usually played live music here, yet you went to the place the only day of the year that they weren't there. Though it was kinda obvious they wouldn't be here today; it's Christmas eve for God's sake.

You took a sip of your wine, closing your eyes to savor the taste. You didn't know what it was, but the bartender definitely found your exact preference; sweet and strong on the tongue which leaves a slightly bitter aftertaste at the back of your throat.

As you set the glass down at the bar counter, you noticed a gust of air on your side, signaling someone else's presence. The woody masculine cologne that engulfed your nostrils made your head turn discreetly to the side, trying to take a glimpse of the man that it belonged to.

"A glass of Johnnie please, no ice," a soft baritone voice addressed the bartender and you couldn't help but fully turn your body towards the man, angling yourself in a position that showed your interest towards him yet keeping a safe distance.

The man definitely noticed your antics. You felt his fiery gaze look you up and down, taking in your full appearance. You flipped your hair, moving it all to the back which exposed your bare shoulder and upper chest. You noticed with the corner of your eye that the man drew in a sharp breath, shifting his body from side to side on the barstool. Your technique worked.

As you stretched your arm to grab your glass of wine, your heard the man clear his throat. "Now why would a beautiful lady sit alone at a jazz bar on Christmas eve?" the velvety baritone voice asked and the question was addressed to none other than you.

You finally met the man's gaze for the first time. He was gorgeous. His jet black hair was nicely styled, parted in the middle and framing his heavenly structured face, falling a bit long at the nape of his neck. His dress shirt was sitting tightly around his shoulders and chest, in contrast with the tie he was wearing which was hanging rather loosely around his neck. His sleeves were rolled up and you noticed his arm muscles flex as he brought the scotch glass to his lips, his watch glimmering under the dim lighting.

"Funny enough, I was about to ask the exact same thing," you played along, hiding your flirty smirk behind your glass of wine.

"You're looking for a beautiful lady too?" he asked, his eyes creasing as he smiled teasingly.

You chuckled at that, covering your mouth with you hand. So he had a sense of humor. "I meant a handsome man. But whatever rows your boat," you decided to play along, flirt with him too.

His eyes were piercing. He looked at you as if he were walking for miles in the dry desert and you were an oasis just a little ahead of him, like he was desperate to drink you all up. It would be lie though if you denied that you weren't looking at him the same way.

"I mean," he said between low chuckles, "there has to be a good reason why you're here. And alone," he finished, waiting for your answer.

You sighed deeply, tapping your fingers on the counter. "I was supposed to spend Christmas with my friends but they decided to be assholes and pull a prank on me. They dumped me. Told me we were going to Milan while they are in Vienna right now," you said, downing the remaining wine in your glass in one go.

The man visibly winced at what you said, as if he was physically in pain. "I'm sorry to hear that. That's so cruel, wow," he said, reaching out a confident hand to grab your hand resting on the counter, giving it an apologetic squeeze. Oh he knows what he's doing.

"What's your excuse for being here, pretty boy?" you asked playfully and he smiled. "My story isn't as sad as yours, it's actually kinda funny. My uh- my flight got canceled. I was in Milan for work and I was supposed to go home for the holidays but..." he trailed off, pressing his lips.

"Damn, i'm sorry," you said and you decided to flirt back now. Gaining dominance over his hand, you squeezed it, rubbing circles with your thumb over the back of his hand.

You noticed his eyes fixate on the spot your bodies were touching. Without realizing it, your barstool had moved closer to his and you could feel the heat of his body radiating along with the strong scent of his cologne. You hoped your perfume hadn't worn off after hours of wearing it.

"Actually," he spoke up, removing his hand from your grip, "something good came out of all this misfortune. I'm sitting at a nice cozy place with a beautiful lady to keep me company. Not that bad, isn't it? I'm Jaehyun by the way," he offered you his name, stretching his arms for a proper handshake.

It was ironic. You had already held hands without even introducing yourselves to each other. You giggled at the gesture and he smiled at your reaction, eagerly waiting for your name and your handshake with his arm still stretched towards you.

You gave him your name as you returned the handshake. The sight of the two of you must have looked somewhat awkward from a third person's point of view, but for you the interaction between you and Jaehyun had a warmth to it.

You didn't say it out loud like he did, but spending time with a lovely handsome stranger in a foreign place on Christmas eve wasn't as bad as it sounded.

You didn't realize it but you and Jaehyun had already been talking for almost two hours. Time passed by quickly, you were having a great time with him. He was weirdly charming, flirting with you in a slightly uncomfortable way despite the aura of confidence he radiated. He cracked jokes more than you expected and always found silly excuses to touch you, anywhere he could, signaling his obvious interest towards you.

It would be a lie if you said you weren't as interested in him, if more than he was. You found yourself laughing at everything he said, and you didn't mind the soft touches of his hand here and there. In fact, you craved them even more. You craved him. After two hours of talking, you weren't sure if it was the wine, the sleepiness or the pure lust you were feeling, but you couldn't bring yourself to listen to everything he said. You were lost in his eyes, his lips, his hands, his scent. You were sober enough to understand the pure attraction you had for him.

The bar was now almost empty. You saw the bartender cleaning some tables in the back, and only two groups of friends were there beside you and Jaehyun. You took this as a signal to get leaving as soon as possible.

After arguing with Jaehyun over who gets to pay for the drinks, he ultimately won over you, being kind enough to pay for all your refills of wine. You were opposed to this at first, but his kind gesture made your want grow even more, and the aching sensation between your thighs became too noticeable to ignore.

You wrapped your coat closely around your neck as you stepped outside the bar in the crisp coldness of December. You couldn't just go back to your hotel room like this. The night was still young, and you weren't ready to leave Jaehyun just yet.

"So, any plans for the rest of the night?" you asked, trying to get some information you could use in your favor.

Jaehyun shrugged, lifting his shoulders. "Not really. I mean, I'm alone here so there isn't anything else to do during this time of the night," he said, but you noticed that he wanted to say more than that.

You decided to take initiative and help him out of his shyness. "I know it's gonna sound a bit weird but," you drew in a breath, shivering from the cold and the nervousness, "would you like to come over to my hotel room for one more round of drinks? It's almost Christmas" you said looking at your watch.

Jaehyun tried to suppress a smile that was threatening to spread on his lips. You had cracked him. You knew he wanted you as much as you wanted him, and neither of you were ready to let go of each other so easily. Besides, like he said, you were all alone here. You only knew each other and there wasn't anything more fun than to spend more time with a person you grew to like. He had no excuse to refuse your offer.

With a hesitant nod, he looked into your eyes, smiling softly as he tried to study the intentions behind your question. "Sure, why not?"

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jaehyun kicked the door of you hotel room closed as he kissed you deeply, his hands resting on your back while yours were wrapped around his neck. Dropping your bag on the floor, you hurriedly took off your shoes, throwing them somewhere around the room.

Jaehyun struggled a little untying his shoelaces, but you helped him get rid of his jacket, throwing it somewhere behind him. You let your coat fall off your body, and with a quick motion your hands were back to where they were, wrapped around jh neck, pulling him close to reach his lips again.

The kiss was electric. Your entire body heated up with lust as you tasted on his lips the mixture of the different alcoholic drinks you had consumed earlier. Jaehyun slipped his tongue into your mouth, lowering his hands to the small of your back as you cupped his cheek with one hand, the other gripping the locks of his hair. In the heat of the moment, he wasted no time cupping your ass, lifting you up to wrap your legs around his waist.

On the short walk back to your hotel, you felt the constant need for him steadily rising and rising to the point you couldn't keep your hands to yourself anymore. It must've been hard for Jaehyun to keep his composure too, as he couldn't resist his urges anymore, kissing you in the elevator as you went up to the floor of your room.

You were both so needy for each other. Your tongues battled for dominance as Jaehyun lead you to the bed, dropping your body on the soft mattress as he towered above you, never breaking the kiss.

Your grip on his hair tightened, and he knew you wanted more. He attached his lips on your neck, pressing soft warm kissed along the sensitive area. He trailed his mouth from under your ear down to your already half-exposed chest and you mentally thanked yourself for choosing to wear a low-cut top. Soft moans escaped your lips as Jaehyun found all your favorite spots to kiss, smirking at the sounds that came out of your mouth.

His lips left your skin and you whined at the lack of his touch. He looked up into your eyes, searching for any type of consent, something that told him you needed him as badly as he needed you.

"What are we even doing?" he chuckled, running his fingers along your cheek.

You smiled at that. "i don't know,," you were honest with him. "But whatever it is, I like it. And I want it. Do you?" you asked him and he nodded quickly, resting his thumb on your lips.

"You have no idea" he said and in a second, his lips crashed with yours as he continued the battle of dominance you had previously started.

Jaehyun kept kissing you everywhere. No spot in your exposed body was left unattended by his soft lips, yet he needed more of you and you needed him in more places too. As if on cue, you arched your back to help him take off your top, followed shortly with an unclasp of your bra, the straps falling down your shoulders as he yanked it away. He immediately buried his face in your chest, sucking one nipple while teasing the other one with his fingers.

With trembling hands due to the pleasure, you loosened Jaehyun's tie, hastily unbuttoning his shirt. He sensed your struggle and detached himself from your boobs to help you get him undressed. Removing his shirt, he revealed his toned body to you, muscles flexing with every single of his movements. You didn't have enough time to fully appreciate his upper body as he dipped back in, not wanting to leave your nipples neglected.

Soft moans and whimpers left your lips as he kept on kissing you down your entire body, trailing your stomach down to your pants. Swiftly pulling the zipper, he slowly removed your pants and underwear, kissing your inner things along the way.

Your body jolted at the cold sensation of your naked core meeting the air in the room, and Jaehyun's mouth was so close to where you needed him the most that the thought alone made you even wetter.

Jaehyun took a step back to fully look at you. His pupils were dilated, eyes filled with nothing but lust and need. "Gosh you're so beautiful" he said in his low voice, a soft grunt escaping him as he unbuckled his belt, pulling down his pants and boxers revealing his own throbbing dick.

You gulped at the sight of his size, but it made you even more curious of how he would feel inside you. Jaehyun lowered himself above you, capturing your lips in a lazy passionate kiss.

"I really wanna take my time with you but I can't wait any longer. Do you think you can take me right now? No prep?" he asked you, the neediness in his eyes and voice so obvious, you could come undone any minute by now.

The truth is, you weren't sure if you could fit all of him inside you. But you needed him. you wanted him. The sooner the better. You couldn't take any more foreplay or teasing even though you'd like it. You just wanted to relase all the tension off your body.

"I can take it. I can take you," you said and you saw Jaehyun's eyes darken at your eager tone. He wasted no time, lining himself between your legs as he grabbed the base of his cock, bringing it to the opening of your folds.

"Are you sure you want this, Y/n?" Jaehyun asked you, waiting for your final answer, the one that would give me the green light to go.

You nodded. "yes, Jaehyun please. I want you right now," you pleaded and it was all that was needed for him to slowly thrust inside you, your velvety walls wrapping around his veiny length as he entered deeper and deeper until he bottomed out inside you, his hips touching yours.

A long moan was heard by both of you at the sensation of your bodies meeting in such an intimate way. "Fuck you're so warm" Jaehyun groaned and you moaned just at the sound he made, his eyes shut as he tried to fully feel you ad you took him all in.

Once you gave him the signal that he could move, he slowly lifted his hips, thrusting his dick in and out of your pussy, earning heavy breaths from you. Your arms searched for anchor at his toned back, digging your fingers in his shoulders as his thrusts grew faster and more eager, trying to get you to moan louder for him.

And it worked. As he kept on reaching spots so deep you never thought anyone could ever reach, Jaehyun kissed down your neck, groaning at the sound of your continuously louder moans, smirking on your skin when he pinched your nipped and you squealed, leaving out a high-pitched scream.

"You're so good at this Jae, you make me feel so good" you said in between moans and the nickname worked like magic for him. His breathing became heavier, burying his head on the crook of your neck as his thrusts became sloppier.

"Fuck you're such a good girl for me, I'm- fuck" Jaehyun's voice was mumbled as he spoke in the mattress, your moaning growing louder and louder.

"Please Jae I wanna cum, it's so good," you whispered, your breathing becoming sharper as he pressed a finger on your clit, rubbing it softly as he angled your hips higher to gain more access inside you. Your legs wrapped tight around his waist as his body was pressed closely on top of you. Jaehyun tried to kiss you, but the burning sensation between your legs kept you moaning inside his mouth, your eyes rolling in the back of your head as you reached closer to your climax.

"Jae I'm- I-" you tried to speak but the pleasure was too much for your brain to properly work.

Jaehyun never stopped nor changed his movements, quickly understanding what you like and what makes you a whimpering mess under him. "Come on baby, cum for me" he groaned as he kept on going, rubbing your clit slightly faster.

Your legs shook around his waist, a loud cry leaving your lips as you came around his cock. Jaehyun kept on going, riding you through your high as he chased his own. Hearing your soft moans, he came not long after you, warm liquid filling you up as your throbbing walls clenched around his length.

The two of you stayed like this for a while. Jaehyun only pulled out of you once his breathing was more steady, and you winced at the sudden emptiness you felt without his body inside you, or even on top of you.

Jaehyun layed for a few more seconds before he got up, searching for his boxers around the room. "I'm gonna get some tissues to clean you up, is that alright baby?" the pet name felt so natural coming from him. It was weird that it didn't really hit you when he said it during sex, but right now it made your stomach twitch.

Jaehyun went to the bathroom and came back holding some tissues. You moved your body towards him and let him clean you up from all the remaining liquids he had spilled on you. You found the gesture adorable, especially when you saw the concentration on his face, trying to leave absolutely no dirty spot on your body.

You thanked him for it and got up to find some clean clothes you could wear to sleep. Jaehyun was too comfortable getting under the bedsheets, laying in your bed as a sign that he would stay the night.

Fishing his phone from the inside pocket of his jacket, he read the time. It was way past midnight by now, and neither of you noticed how quickly time had passed when you had such a great time with each other.

His lips tugged into a playful smile before he spoke. "Look, it's past midnight. Merry Christmas!" he said as you climbed into bed beside him.

You laughed at his enthusiasm and sighed, turning to face him. If you were to tell yourself that you wouldn't spend Christmas with your friends this year but rather with a hot total stranger you came across at a jazz bar, you wouldn't believe it. But now, nuzzling into his chest, hearing the slow and steady beating of his heart, you were content with this turn of events.

You cupped the side of his face and his cheek rested heavy in your palm as he leaned his head to your touch. You pressed a soft peck on his lips, smiling. "Merry Christmas".

* .♡ *:･ﾟ✧ ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

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[hangup119]

don't get the deal | h. taesan (TEASER)

being the shoulder to cry on is no easy task - especially not for han taesan, who has lived almost half of his life painfully smitten over someone he is confident would never, ever think of wanting him as more than just a friend. he wonders if he will ever get out of this so-called "friend zone," or maybe he just doesn't get the deal at all.

pairing. han taesan x fem. reader

genres + warnings. friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, one-sided pining, eventual happy ending, slight angst + profanity, taesan is bad at feelings, reader is even worse

playlist. don't get the deal by beabadoobee; but i like you by boy next door; somethin' stupid by frank sinatra; about a girl by nirvana; disasterology by pierce the veil; if i'm james dean, you're audrey hepburn by sleeping with sirens

expected word count. 7k-10k words | teaser word count. 1.3k words

author's note. hey goisss... ive had this in the drafts for so so long but for some reason i started working on it again and im nearing the end so hopefully this will be out very soon !!! dont quote me on that tho live laugh love user hangup119's work ethic <3 ALSO btw this teaser is like a flashback kinda thing but the real story actually takes place in their college days

@onedoornet | reblogs appreciated!

IT WAS HIGH SCHOOL WHEN YOU RUINED TAESAN'S LIFE FOREVER.

To be more specific, it was during your last year of high school when he realized that there was simply no way he was ever going to win you over. Not now, and certainly not ever.

Because here’s the thing: Taesan was not a bad-looking guy, he’s far from it, actually. In fact, he had enough business cards from agency recruiters that could fit a whole shoe box, so his looks clearly were never the problem here. Was it his personality, then? Probably not that, either. He was pretty chill most of the time, and he had never really acted up around anyone unless it truly called for it. He always made sure that he wasn’t making a fool out of himself around you, and there were never really incidents that could have painted him in a bad light in your eyes. He had decent grades, so he wasn’t stupid either, which was one of your major turn-offs. And he was sporty—he participated in the school’s soccer team, and he even had a bunch of fans giggling over him whenever he so much as passed them by while chasing after the ball, so his popularity was pretty decent too.

Was he simply not… your type? But that couldn’t be—you were always making heart eyes at Park Sunghoon who was two grades above, and he was told all the time that he was basically a lookalike of the guy! Not to mention you were always at Jung Sungchan’s games, cheering his name even when the guy was literally being benched. Taesan never got benched. He was the star player of his soccer team. You fawned over Park Wonbin when he performed at the school’s talent show, but Taesan could also sing and play the electric guitar just as well. You squealed over Lee Sohee because he was sooo cute! but Taesan knew how to get real fucking adorable, too! He practically had all of their qualities combined into one, and not once did you ever look back at him. 

And that’s when it hit him. 

It was prom that night, and he was off at the corner drinking from a cup of water instead of jumping along with the fray and bouncing up and down to some Drake song when his friend, Kim Leehan, approached him. 

“I’m not slow-dancing with you, Leehan,” he muttered, taking another sip of his bland water. “Piss off.”

Leehan raised his arms in response, smiling in a way that was just so Leehan-like of him. “Woah, woah, I get it. Someone pissed in your cup, or something? Literally and figuratively,” he laughed, leaning against the wall next to him. “Lighten up for once, ‘san. It’s your first and last prom, you know?” 

Taesan only grunted in return. 

“Look at you; so emo tonight,” Leehan said, defeated. He followed the other’s gaze towards the dance floor, where everyone is packed together like a can of sardines. “But you’re always so normal around Y/N.” 

Taesan paused.

Leehan laughed again. “Hm, maybe not?” 

Sometimes, it was both a blessing and a curse to be friends with someone like Kim Leehan. 

“Stop talking about things you already know,” Taesan murmured, chucking the water cup into the trash can a few meters away. He placed his hands inside his pockets, looking straight ahead amidst the dizzying lights and the dispersed crowd now that a slow song started playing.

“Why don’t you go ask her for a dance?” Leehan suggested, signaling towards the dance floor. 

“She’s literally holding hands with Yang Jungwon right now,” Taesan deadpanned. “Are you kidding me? How’d she get him of all people as her prom date?” 

Scoring the smartest and the most popular student in your school has got to be the biggest flex of your high school career. Taesan had almost no complaints except for the fact that Yang Jungwon was your date instead of—him! Any moment now and he’d be losing his mind. Actually, scratch that, he probably already was. 

Leehan hummed. 

“Do you think,” he began, slowly, darting his line of sight between you who’s giggling at something Yang Jungwon said, before turning back to Taesan, the angstiest kid he’s ever known. “That, maybe, if you had just asked her out to prom with you… then maybe she’d have said yes?” 

Finally, the gears inside Taesan’s head started to turn. Leehan smiled at the sight.

Taesan quickly scoffed. “No way,” he denied, crossing his arms. “Why would she go with me when she’s got Yang Jungwon as her date? It’d only happen in my dreams.” 

He figured it out anyway. It wasn’t because he wasn’t as handsome as Park Sunghoon, or as sporty as Jung Sungchan, or as musically talented as Park Wonbin (though he’d beg to differ), or as cute as Lee Sohee. Heck, it wasn’t even because he wasn’t as smart or as popular as Yang Jungwon. 

Maybe it was never because of those things that made you look at them instead of him. 

Maybe you were just never interested in him at all. 

And Taesan will have no other choice but to live with that fact forever. 

Leehan’s smile dropped, and he peeled himself away from the wall. Just as he was about to leave, he stopped for a second just to say: “You’re so—stubborn.” 

Taesan looked at him indignantly. “...What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Leehan shrugged, finally walking away. “You tell me, dude.” 

And then he was gone, rushing off to join the rest of their friends while Taesan stayed in the back, alone and miserable all because of his newfound epiphany. Though he supposed he was already miserable the moment you entered the venue with Yang Jungwon right beside you. 

It was a time of new beginnings for Taesan; a time to finally move on from you. 

Though, if only it was that easy.

Two weeks later, when you were working on a final project with him, you unexpectedly dropped the news that you and Jungwon have broken up. Because Jungwon was going to some Ivy League, and you were decidedly… not. You couldn’t handle the thought of being long-distance, so you decided to just cut things off with him since it can’t be helped, you know? And then you proceeded to laugh it off with that huge, idiotic smile of yours before continuing on with the project. Taesan didn’t know what was so funny.

Eventually, he had to share his water with you when you started sobbing hysterically inside of the library, hiccuping and all. 

He admittedly felt awful seeing you cry over Yang Jungwon, your high school boyfriend of probably only two months, but most importantly, he felt awful because of the relief that suddenly washed over him. 

…And what did that make Taesan?

So, really, maybe it was for the better that you would never look at Taesan the way he wished you would. That no matter how many times he has lent you an ear to talk to or a shoulder to cry on, you never bothered to stop for a moment and think that hey, maybe this guy likes me to some capacity, and maybe I should give him a chance. Because what kind of friend is he to feel relieved at the fact that you had gotten dumped by your boyfriend? That when your heart was broken, he could only rejoice at the fact that he now has a higher chance of getting with you once again even when it is so clear that he never once did? 

How could he sit next to you and think such thoughts? 

And yet, even when you keep jumping from one person to another, falling for someone, crying over another—Taesan will always be there for you when it all comes crashing down. A friend to cheer you on, to lift you up, to steady you—because that’s all he’ll ever be to you. 

Han Taesan was only seventeen years old when you ruined his life. 

And for what it is worth, he is still in love with you.

story by hangup119. do not steal.

[taesanluv3r]

somethin' stupid

kim leehan x reader

popular boy kim leehan is actually a huge jazz nerd and hangs out with his friends at a karaoke bar. there, he performs an unexpected duet with the quiet girl he recognizes from his art class, yn ln. lowercase intended. pls ignore any grammatical errors/spelling mistakes! enjoy <3

wc: 3,856

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and then i go and spoil it all by saying somethin' stupid like...

the jazzy music coming from the live band seeped in through kim leehan's ears as he enters the bar with his group of friends. he smiles sweetly, waving at the few people that recognized him as he passed by. "well if it isn't my favourite boy! let me guess, you want your usual spot, mister popular?" jiho, the familiar host of the family-friendly bar who acts as an older brother figure for the boy, greeted happily, earning a nod in response.

the group is led to their designated spot - possibly the best spot in the house - only the best for the bar's favourite regulars. see, despite being the most sought after guy in school, leehan prefers to lay low for the most part. he knows what he likes, and he doesn't want to change that just because of his popularity. this jazz bar for instance, is the greatest example of the boy's simple habits.

he had been going there since middle school, when he discovered that he not only loved the genre, but also enjoyed singing along to the tunes. and when his parents overheard his beautiful rendition of frank sinatra's my way from the shower, they took him to this bar for the very first time. that's when he fell in love. he fell in love with the music, with the live acoustics, and of course, with their karaoke sessions. he liked that it was chill over there. the music wasn't bass boosted into his ears, the people that went there weren't rowdy, and best of all, it was an escape from the party-animal type of crowd he was used to being associated with at school. since then, the boy had began hanging out there with his closest friends, earning him a designated table with the best view of the stage.

"and now...the best few hours of your life...it's open karaoke time! now's your chance to show off your talent - get up on stage and let the band know what song to play"

the announcement blaring out of the host's microphone caused a sea of goosebumps to form on the surface of leehan's skin. he always looked forward to karaoke nights, even if he didn't feel like singing some days. he loved watching other people perform just as much as he loved performing himself.

"you singing tonight, bro?" taesan, one of his best friends who sat beside him, asked as he took a sip from his iced americano. the boy shrugged, "don't know yet...i might...we'll see the vibes" he replies, stroking a hand through his blonde hair. "i know i am!" sungho, who sat on one end of the round-ish couch, chimed in, earning a chorus of groans and whines of we know you will's from the other boys.

the group quieted down a bit, enjoying their snacks and drinks as they watched a couple strangers get up on the stage to sing alongside the bar's live band. over time, the place started to fill with more and more people, the indistinct chatter harmonizing with the music.

"so how's it going tonight, guys?" jiho, the host from before, asked as he made his way to the group's table. "good, as always - especially these chicken wings, best addition to the menu ever!" woonhak cheers with half a drumstick still in his mouth. the guys share a laugh, "you're not singing tonight, bro?" the question is directed towards leehan, who was still contemplating on what to do. "can't you force him to? we've been trying to get him to sing all night...but he's being weirdly shy" jaehyun whines, a faux pout evident on his face. jiho chuckles, "c'mon bro! sing one song - who knows, maybe you'll get noticed tonight..." leehan looks at him confused, "like by a record label?" the older guy rolls his eyes, "sure! or maybe...by a girl? i mean c'mon how is mister popular still single?!" the others giggle, watching the way the blonde's ears turned a bright shade of red.

"yeah, we wonder that too...i mean, it's not like he doesn't have a billion girls wanting him..." riwoo says, crossing his arms across his chest as if he were disappointed. "yeah, he literally has so many options and just chooses to be single...like? make it make sense" taesan butts in, scoffing with a smirk. "it's not that i choose to be single. it's just that...the girls who go after me aren't exactly...my type" the so-called mister popular states, pouting out of habit at his pestering group of friends. jiho laughs again, "my point still stands, brother...you're in your zone right now! get on that stage...maybe your type - whoever it may be - is here waiting for you!" his words make the two sides of leehan's brain start to debate.

"whatever you choose though, better hurry while the stage is empty - only a matter of time before someone else is up there singing your favourite songs"

after another minute or so, the blonde boy gets up from his seat, the eyes of his five friends following him as he moves to get onto the stage. they watch as he converses with the band members, probably telling them what song he was planning on singing. he was smiling, laughing at something the drummer said before a look of surprise made it's way to his face. no one could make out what he was saying due to the distance between them and the stage, but judging from the way his mouth moved he said something along the lines of:

"what?! why!? how will i sing(?) then?!"

the boys stared at the stage confused as their mister popular continued to talk with the band. they watched as he began nodding rapidly, giving a quick thumbs up before turning around to face the audience. leehan grabbed the microphone from off of it's stand, clearing his throat once before he started to speak. "hey guys! so um...the song i usually sing is a duet - and i usually sing it with the female singer of this band- shout out to her! but um...she's sick right now and won't be able to sing with me so if anyone out there wants to sing with me please get on the stage...heh" the boy rambles and stutters, suddenly feeling way too seen and way too nervous. "oh! and the song is somethin' stupid...by frank and nancy sinatra...so...if anyone wants to...yeah" his friends almost die from second hand embarrassment, laughing as they watched the usually calm kim leehan start to sweat and shake on the stage.

"this is a once in a lifetime chance to duet with mister popular, guys! don't miss out!" jiho, who had a mic of his own, says with a look of pity - in an attempt to help the poor guy.

the boy gulped as he scanned the room for any sign of a sweet stranger that would save his ego and just sing with him, but to no avail. he sighed, starting to wonder if he should just walk off the stage and go straight home.

"she'll do it!" a loud voice cuts off the silent atmosphere of the bar, causing all eyes to look for it's source. a tall girl with long black hair, she had the biggest smile on her face as she repeatedly pointed towards her friend that sat beside her; a shy looking girl with her hands covering her face in embarrassment. she began to shake her head profusely, waving her hands in front of her face in refusal. the black haired girl put up a strong front though, practically pushing her friend off of the couch and towards the stage. "alright! get up here then!" the host cheered, hyping her up as she shyly walks over, a round of applause filling the room.

by the time she was on the stage, her hands that were covering her face had moved to hold onto the mic. leehan had on a warm and friendly smile, trying to make out what she looked like but having a hard time doing so as she kept facing the ground below them. she looked familiar though, he was sure he'd seen her somewhere before.

"why don't you introduce yourself?" the host asked, trying to build up her confidence before she had to start singing. "um..." her voice was soft, just a decibel above a whisper, and it trembled slightly as she spoke. "my name is..." the blonde boy beside her listened intently, impatient to know who she was. "my name is yn ln" - that was it!

yn! the girl that sat at the very back of his art class at school - she never really spoke, but he knew her from her art. she was the best at it, her paintings and other works always being displayed on their school's art walls.

"well, yn! let's see if you have what it takes to duet with our very own jazz king-" jiho is cut off by an elbow to his gut and a glare of warning from the blonde boy. "ow! anyways, the stage is all yours" the host walks off the elevated floor, nodding at the pair of strangers to signal that it was their turn to entertain the crowd.

"you ready?" leehan asked, smiling softly at the girl who was very evidently nervous. yn nods, "mhm, ready when you are", returning his smile with one that was just as sweet. the boy turns to signal the band.

"ladies and gentlemen...this is somethin' stupid"

the song begins with a soft melody, the live band setting a romantic mood into the atmosphere. leehan and yn share a glance, nodding along to the beat, awaiting their cue. the boy watched as her eyes closed for a moment, her movements fluid as she swayed softly - all signs of her previous nervousness gone as she lost herself to the music. and then they sang.

"i know i stand in line until you think you have the time to spend an evening with me..." a gasp is heard from somewhere in the audience as they sung, eyes staring at them in awe as their voices blended seamlessly with each others. "and if we go someplace to dance, i know that there's a chance you won't be leaving with me..." yn opens her eyes, locking them with his as their smiles seeped into the song. "then afterwards we drop into a quiet little place and have a drink or two..." the climax of the verse is about to hit, the pair's legs guiding them unconsciously closer to one another. her eyes shut closed again, lips pressed against the microphone. he stares at her, in a trance he's never experienced before. "and then i go and spoil it all by saying somethin' stupid like, i love you"

they were far too lost in their duet to tell, but as they performed together on stage the rest of the bar started to get hot; their chemistry so warm and electrifying that every other person in the room could feel the sweet, romantic tension that escaped through their opened mouths as they sang. the boy's group of friends locked eyes with the girl's singular friend, signalling her with their eyes to come and join them at their table. she obliged, taking a seat on their couch and continuing to watch the lovely performance happening in front of them.

it's that point in the song right before the end where the band breaks into an instrumental. the guests of the jazz bar watched as the pair began to dance with each other - having seemingly forgotten about the audience. yn's eyes glistened with glee as she took the boy's opened hand, giggling softly as she twirled in circles, landing just about two inches away from him for the final verse. leehan smiled, a genuine one that reached his crescent shaped eyes as he lifted the mic up to his mouth again. his hand still holding onto hers as they gazed deep into each other.

"the time is right, your perfume fills my head, the stars get red, and, oh, the night's so blue..." they harmonized, standing still in their spots. "and then i go and spoil it all by saying somethin' stupid like, i love you" his voice is deep and hers is higher, the perfect combination as they utter the final refrain. "i love you..." they repeated over and over. on the surface, it seemed as though they were just completing a mindless duet. simply mimicking the lyrics to a tune they both loved. deep down though, a strange feeling bubbled up in the depths of their beating hearts - almost as if they meant to say every single word.

"...i love you"

their voices faded out along with the band's instruments, a moment of silence filling the room before it was replaced with a chorus of cheers and applause. the pair had returned from la la land, gasping in shock as they were reminded of the crowd of people in the bar with them. feeling a surge of confidence she had never felt before, yn bowed dramatically to the audience, standing up straight again with a huge grin on her face. leehan did the same, bowing slightly with a look of pure pride.

"ladies and gentlemen, leehan and yn! what a beautiful performance. the chemistry was on point, you two" jiho reenters the stage, sending the pair off with a suggestive wink that they both decided to completely dismiss.

the boy and the girl drowned out the rest of the host's comments as they returned back to the floor below the elevated steps of the stage. leehan faced her with a smile, "you were really good out there...i didn't know you could sing like that - i mean, you're always so shy in school so-" he didn't get to finish, "you've seen me at school?! i mean - duh, i'm not invisible but...i mean, i never thought you of all people would notice me..." yn's words come out of her mouth fast in an attempt to hide the obvious pity in her voice. "what're you talking about?! it's kinda hard not to notice you when your incredible art is pasted all over the walls - i mean, you may not know it but me and the boys are always looking at them and wondering how the hell a human would be able to paint like that! woonhak thinks you might be an alien" his compliments make her cheeks flush, a giggle escaping her lips as she shakes her head. "no, i'm serious! you're incredible - er, i mean...you can paint, and it's no secret that you're smart too...and you're cute, and i mean you can sing too! you really got it all, huh..." leehan's voice quieted down towards the end, his mind suddenly going into deep thinking mode.

yn looked at him confused, "are you okay?" he shakes out of his thoughts, "huh? yeah! um...i should probably head back to my friends..." she nods along with him, "yeah me too- oh!...looks like my friend is over there with your friends now..." the boy furrows his eyebrows, snapping his head around in the direction she was pointing to, a look of disbelief in his face as he spots the group of boys sitting with the one girl. leehan sighs, "what are they up to now..." yn follows behind him closely as he makes his way to the table, his steps are strong and determined - she's clueless and curious.

"oh, lookie here! it's the smashing duet of the century!" jaehyun exclaims, arms up in the air excitedly. "you guys were awesome out there! i'm minju by the way, yn's best friend" the black haired girl speaks, reaching a hand out for the blonde boy to shake. he did so, then cleared his throat to reply. "nice to meet you, and thank you...but what are you doing sitting here, suddenly?" he didn't mean to sound rude or intruding, but the boy was genuinely curious as to how she ended up at the table with his friends. minju smiled, "they invited me over here while you guys were singing!" sungho chimes in after, "yeah, she was all alone so we told her to come sit here" leehan nods understandingly, "oh, that makes sense. could you make some room though guys, my leg's tired from standing up-" the boys don't let him finish.

"oh, sorry bro, i'm gonna stop you there. see, it's kind of tight over here but look! yn and minju's table from before is still empty and there's plenty of space for you two there!" one of them says, a shit-eating grin on his face. if it weren't for the fact that they were in public and he had a pretty cool girl standing beside him right now, leehan would've went ahead and punched that smug smirk right off of taesan's face; but we digress. "you guys go ahead over there, i'm perfectly fine here!" minju grins, just as sneakily as the boys surrounding her. yn rolls her eyes but smiles, "c'mon leehan, they obviously don't want us here and i'm thirsty, let's go" she says as she grabs the blonde boy's arm, dragging him away to their new seat as he flips his friends off in annoyance.

"those idiots..." he said, sticking a french fry into his mouth. the girl beside him laughs, "is it that bad being forced to sit with me?" she was joking, but for some reason the boy thought she meant it for real. "no! no! i...it's not that, i swear! i do like you - i mean, i like sitting with you" he stops talking when she breaks into a fit of laughter, the sound so sweet that it makes his heart skip a beat. "i was joking!...and i like sitting with you too...you're a lot different than i thought" he tilts his head to the side, "what do you mean?"

yn takes in a deep breath, "i don't know...i guess it's just that in school, you have this popular guy reputation and all the girls ever say about you is how hot and sexy you are and how you probably have a billion chicks lining up for you but-" leehan's gaze distracts her for a moment. "but...?" he asks, wanting her to continue. "but you're not like that at all, are you? i mean...you could be at that guy haruto's house party right now, getting shit faced with the rest of the school, but you're not. you're here. you're in a quiet karaoke jazz bar with your friends, listening to music, and singing duets with me - who, in case you weren't aware, is just a shy nobody at school"

there's a sparkle in the boy's eyes, a single tear threatening to trickle down his face. he's in another trance, and it's all her fault. "are...are you crying? was it something i said? i'm sorry, forget i said anything!" she rambles, trying to apologize for whatever reason but he just shakes his head. "no...it's just...you're the first person outside of my closest friends to ever say something like this to me...it's just...thank you" now her eyes held that same glow, her lips quivering to talk but not a single word came out.

the pair froze like that for a while. eyes locked in each other's, faces inches apart, and their heavy breaths matching up. "yn...i know we just truly met, but it feels like we've known each other for ages..." leehan spoke, his voice airy and light. "well, technically speaking we've known each other since middle school-" she doesn't get to speak anymore, interrupted by his three words that took her by surprise.

"i love you"

yn's eyes grow wide, words slurred as they stuttered out of her mouth. "what...?" her reaction was awkward, but for some reason that made the boy happy - a weird kind of giddy sensation engulfing his body like a hug. "i love you" he says again, full of confidence like he didn't have a single care in this world. it's only then when the confession hits her, her body fidgeting in realization. "can you hear me now? in case you didn't, what i said was that-" she nods enthusiastically, "i know, i know! you said, i love you...and...i think i do too" yn mumbles the last bit of her sentence, her head falling down to look at her hands, the ground, just anything but him.

leehan chuckles, his cold hand lightly tapping at her chin, lifting her head up to face him. "did you say something?" he asked, smug and prideful. yn sighs, rolling her eyes before scooching closer to him on the couch. they were just centimeters away now, they could feel each other's breaths grazing against their skin.

"i love you"

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"so what were guys talking about so seriously over there before?" riwoo asks.

the group of boys and the one girl had reunited with the pair, standing together outside the jazz bar. "you know...just some things..." leehan said, turning away and ignoring the annoyingly curious looks on his friends' faces. "and what things might those be?" minju asked, raising an eyebrow at yn who just shrugged the question away.

"hey, do you have a ride home?" the blonde boy asks the girl beside him, still ignoring their pestering friends. she shook her head, "i was just gonna go with minju to her house and get a cab from there, why?" he smiles, "i have a car, why don't i drop you home?" the girl opens her mouth to speak but is interrupted before she can even utter a word.

"hellooooooo! answer my question!" minju practically yells this time, the boys beside her backing her up with nods. "we told you, we talked about a lot of things!" yn replies, throwing her hands up in the air. "anyways, is it really okay for you to drop me home? i live kind of far" the boy nods, "not a problem at all, but we should get going before it gets too late so...when you lot are done staring at us let us know so we can leave!" he targets the end of his sentence to the group that was still looking at them in absolute disbelief.

"we'll stop staring and let you leave when you tell us what you were talking about before!" sungho whines, hands on his hips. "we talked about things! how many times do we have to tell you? let's go, yn...these guys won't budge" - "well, what things?!" woonhak groans, getting impatient, following behind them as the pair began to walk over to the blonde one's car.

kim leehan just laughs, opening the door on the passenger's side and letting yn ln in. "it doesn't matter...it was just..." he pauses, trying to think of something to say. that's when she butts in, putting an end to their friends' torment.

"it was just...somethin' stupid...that's all!"

the end.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

omg! i haven't written something this lengthy in a while ahhh! this scenario came to me while listening to this song in the car the other day hehe <3 i think it's rlly cute and im a sucker for anything jazz bar romance related lols. hope u guys liked it! love, kona.

tags: @saritahwang

[justmeinadaze]

The Very Thought Of You (Steve x Y/N)

A/N: Based on this post

Warnings: Older (Late 30s) Professor Steve & Younger (Early 20s) Fem Y/N, SMUT, big dick Steve Harrington, dirty talk, slight public (if you squint; the get briefly handsy in an elevator), oral (m receiving) p in v (unprotected), aftercare always. I think that's it. (Not my usual stuff but I wanted this story available for everyone :))

FLUFF, These two definitely like each other, Steve is a music nerd and loves talking to y/n about it. Hes soft with her❤.

ANGST, in the relationship itself (professor/student), Steve is disillusioned by life, talks down about himself from time to time. Nothing too dramatic.

Word Count: 5034

Kofi <3/ Steve Masterlist

“Oh! Sorry, Mr. Harrington.”, you apologize as you take off your headphones and stand from the piano to greet him. 

You had been taking this man’s music theory class for a semester now and you absolutely enjoyed it. For the first couple of weeks, he seemed completely disinterested but the more time passed the more passionate he became especially when you asked questions or engaged in his discussions. 

You didn’t know much about Steve Harrington and he never conveyed anything in his classroom. Even his office was devoid of any personality which you found shocking given when you two would talk about music, he suddenly became energetic and animated as if he had been waiting to talk about this for years. 

Even his visual style didn’t scream anything new as he came in every other day with jeans and some kind of button up shirt. His hair constantly flowed every which way and the facial hair that clung to his chin and upper lip made him seem much older than he actually was. 

One day you ran into him at the record store down the street from campus and he lightly teased you after finding you in the “oldies” section of the shelves. 

“Nancy Sinatra isn’t exactly what your generation is listening to now a day.”, he jokes in low throaty tone that has you smiling as you bite your bottom lip.

“I know but…have you ever listened to her on a record player? Her voice is just pure magic and makes me feel so strong, you know?”

That was the first time you ever saw your professor truly smile; showing off all of his pearly whites before nodding his head. 

After that moment, he would ask you to come to his office and give you some new records he thought you would like. Today, however, you were staying late to work on some homework in the music booths and asked him if he could bring what he had by later that evening. 

“No worries. I just, um, I was listening to you play. You sound amazing.”

“Thank you. I’m not GREAT with the piano but I thought with this melody I have in mind, it will work perfectly.”, you smile his way as you take the records from his grasp and scan them over. “Aw, I love Billie Holiday.”

“I figured you would. Her vocals are always beautiful and you can hear passion in every song.”, he grins. “I used to be able to play some of her songs on the piano but I’m a bit rusty.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’re not.”, you giggle as you absently take hold of his wrist and pull him over to take a seat on the bench beside you. 

“Y/N, I can’t…wait…”

“Come on, Mr. Harrington, talent like that doesn’t just leave you. It may lay dormant but… pleeeeease!”, you beg making him blush as he runs his fingers through his hair. “I won’t make fun of you, I promise.”

“Pfft, you better not.”, he jests as he heavily sighs and adjusts himself till he’s sitting up straighter with his hands on the keys. “Alright.”

Your eyes watch him as his fingers begin to move, putting together a melody you definitely recognize. 

“I'm livin' in a kind of a daydream I'm happy as a queen And foolish though it may seem To me that's everything.”

A small smile paints his lips as his eyes close and you continue to sing.

“The mere idea of you The longing here for you You'll never know How slow the moments go Till I'm near to you.”

You can’t help but be surprised when your voice as an echo and your eyes drift to his mouth as he begins to sing along with you. 

“I see your face in every flower Your eyes in stars above It's just the thought of you, The very thought of you, my love.”

His fingers stop moving but his eyes remain squeezed shut as if he clinging to the moment and your heart breaks for him. 

“I didn’t know you could sing, Steve.”, you murmur; a boundary crossed. 

You’d never referred to him by his first name before but for some reason you felt like this deserved a more personal touch. 

“I wanted to be a singer when I was kid. In high school, one of my friends taught me to play guitar and let me play with him on stage with his band.” You softly smile as he chuckles at the memory and his eyes finally open to stare in front of him. “When I heard those people clap for me…Jesus, Y/N…it was like a drug, you know?”, he pants out with excitement as he adjusts his body to face you. “They were applauding for ME. The girls in front of the stage were grinning at ME. People were…proud of ME.”

“Why didn’t you continue with your friends?”

Steve sighs as he shakes his head. 

“I couldn’t. My dad always said things like that weren’t reality. Men like me don’t become music stars. I never wanted that. I just wanted to play music and make people happy.”

“You…you should do it then. Do an open mic night at The Hideout.”

“I can’t.”, he laughs as he starts to get up but your hand on his gives him pause. “I’m not a young man anymore. I don’t even sing the same.”

“Are you kidding me? I just heard you right now and you sounded phenomenal.”

“Pfft, no. That’s because you were singing with me.”

“Steve, oh my gosh, stop!”, you try to sound light as he continues to chuckle and you smile with him. “Stop talking down about yourself like that. YOU are a beautiful singer. YOU played so well. YOU are a wonderful professor… you’ve shown me so much these past few months.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Well for one, all the music you bring me. I love each and every record especially the ones I’ve never heard before. Sometimes at night I’ll put one on while I take a bath and just listen to the hum of the words.”

At the word bath, his honey irises trace along your frame down your hips and back up to your face as you continue. 

“You’ve shown me how transformative music can be and how it can set the mood for any situation… like a man and a woman…sitting at a piano singing Billie Holiday…”

Between every other word, Steve slowly tilted towards you causing little nervous, needy breaths to leave your mouth. The air in the room was thick, as if one false move could break the atmosphere and remind you both who you actually were to each other. 

“What mood could it set in a situation like that?”, he asked in a low gravelly voice that had you licking your lips. “How would the woman be feeling is she was sitting at a piano with a man… singing Billie Holiday?”

“The woman would feel a bit nervous but in a good way.”, you laugh as he smiles. “She probably wishes she could make the man understand how amazing he is inside and out. Not just because he brings her records or talks to her like a person and not a nerd whose family keeps telling her to get a real degree.” 

When you giggle a bit harder, the tension breaks a bit but in a good way as he laughs with you and his hair tickles your nose as his head hangs before lifting to focus on you again. 

“But because he’s sweet and funny and has this incredible smile she wishes she could see more of.” 

Steve was so close to you now that you could feel the wind from his breath fan your face and you swallow down the last of your butterflies as you ask him, “What about the man? How would he be feeling?”

The silence is deafening but it’s nothing compared to the intensity behind his gaze as he searches your features as if looking for a reason to pull away other than the one that’s screaming in the back of your minds. 

“He’d be concerned about regret…he already has enough when it comes to his life and…it would kill him to be the reason she carried her own…

“What if they both regret not taking the leap?”, you whisper as your forehead presses against his. “Not crossing that particular boundary…”

“What if they do?”

A loud bang as the door handle jiggles pushes you both apart even as the door remains locked and you hear cackling from students on the other end. 

“Shit! Sorry, we didn’t think anyone else was here!”, a girl yells. 

“It’s okay!”, you try to yell back but your voice cracks. 

“I should go.”, he grumbles as Steve stands and powerwalks to collect his things. 

“Steve, wait—”

“No, Y/N…MISS Y/L/N…I’m sorry for…leading you on. I got carried away a bit and…Just Mr. Harrington from here on out, ok?”

He started trying to sound authoritative but as he got to his last word, his eyebrows had raised as his face and tone softened, not only trying to soothe you but himself. 

“Ok, Mr. Harrington. I understand.”

He nods, giving you one last small smile before practically running out the studio door.

***

Since you didn’t have classes on Friday, you didn’t have to see your professor having to face everything that happened but that didn’t stop you from thinking about him. You had dreams about his large hands touching you, playing your body with the same rhythmic precision he displayed while playing piano. 

You could still feel his breath against your lips practically tasting the mint gum trying to hide the lingering scent of nicotine you imagined he tried to hide since you never saw him smoke around campus. 

You had so many questions you wanted to ask him but more than anything you wanted to tell him that he was much more than how he saw himself. 

On Saturday, you decided to try and shake the feelings clouding your brain and went to The Hideout for a drink as well as listen to any of the new bands that may be performing. Corroded Coffin had started there and now they sold billions of records worldwide.

Finding your cutest black dress, you styled your hair, grabbed your heels, and called an uber to drop you off. 

The energy in the bar was electric with patrons flirting and giggling as they drank their drinks waiting for the next act. After ordering something strong, you found a seat near the stage and scrolled absently through your phone till the coordinator came out and winced as the mic feedback.

“Hey, hey there, ok, there we go. Thank you everyone for coming out. We’re starting tonight with a new slash old addition to our open mic roster. He used to play up here with our Corroded Coffin back in the day but chose the teacher’s life instead—”

“Ok, ok, thank you, Nick.”, a familiar voice interrupts him causing your eyes to widen as you sit up straighter.

“Steve Harrington everybody!”

Your professor blushes as everyone claps and he pushes the man away from the mic as he adjusts the guitar strap across his chest. 

“Like I don’t already feel old enough.”, he nervously chuckles as the crowd laughs lightly with him. “I, um, I haven’t been on stage in a long time mostly because…I thought that life had long passed me by…but I, uh, I met this woman a few months ago and she…she awakened something in me I also thought was long gone but…uh, yeah, I wrote this song for her and I guess…uh, here we go.”

After a heavy exhale, Steve began to sing and it was like time stopped as the words flowed effortlessly from his lips. 

He seemed a bit stiff at first but after a while, physically, you could see his body become one with his music as his blue jeaned hips lightly began to sway as his loafers taped to the beat. His nose scrunched as his fingers effortless strummed along the strings of his guitar pressed against his button up shirt that had a couple of buttons undone allowing you to see just a bit of his chest hair peeking through. 

As he got more into the performance, the power behind his lyrics hit you like a freight train as he sung about a woman who brought him to life after years of feeling lost. How her light ignited a passion within his heart he thought his father suffocated. How she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen and would give anything to hold her at night instead of just in dreams. 

When the song ended his eyes slowly opened to the rumble of applause in the bar and his smile widened as he waved his hand. Gradually his soft hues find yours, his face turning a bright crimson as your clap echoes louder than all the others. 

You find him backstage and congratulate him with a big hug he wasn’t prepared for but embraced as your arms circled around his back. 

Steve offered to take you home and you agreed. 

***

“That was so beautiful, Mr. Harrington. I’m proud of you for going up there.”, you praise as he walks with you into your apartment building. “You don’t have to…go all the way up…I’m on the 5th floor.”

“Oh, I don’t mind. I want to make sure you get there safely.”, he grins. “I didn’t expect you to be there at the bar. I don’t know why. A gorgeous woman like you on a Saturday night…why wouldn’t you be?”

“Usually, I’m a home body but I needed to clear my head.”

“Everything alright?”, Steve asks with genuine concern. 

“Yeah, I, um, I can’t stop thinking about that man and woman playing piano.”, you shrug as you push the button and wait for the elevator. 

“Me neither.”, he murmurs. “I’ve been having these dreams about her…the woman…like I mentioned in my song.”

“Is…was your song about that woman?”

He nods as he glances at the numbers on the wall as they gradually tick down. 

“Do you think that woman would like my song?”

“I think she’d love it, Mr. Harrington.”, you smile, feeling his eyes search your face as the elevator dings open and you both walk in. “I’m sure she’s been dreaming about you to.”

“Oh, yeah? What has she been dreaming?”

Before the door can fully close, a group of drunk friends dive in pushing you into your professor as your back presses against his chest. On impulse his arm comes around to steady you and when you briefly look down, you notice his palm encapsulates the bulk of your tummy. 

You can’t help but wonder what else on him is big. 

Swallowing thickly, you arch you back slightly allowing your ass to push against him, his fingers twitching at the action as you graze the growing bulge in his jeans. 

The people in front of you two giggle obliviously as their friend makes a joke you both didn’t bother listening to as your eyes close when you feel his head dip and his breath ghost the back of your neck. 

You prayed the elevator would go slower so you could stay against him like this forever but as a ding filled your ears signaling the fifth floor, you opened your eyes to see the group practically fall out the door and sighed as Steve let you go. 

Silently, he followed you as you led him down the hallway to your apartment door, pausing when you turn to face him again. 

“I’VE been dreaming about your lips on mine while your fingers play with me the way you played the piano or strummed that guitar. I dream about your body on mine, fucking me till I can’t move. I-I-I dream about you tossing me around my apartment, using me till your spent and happy. I like seeing you smile, Mr. Harrington. I feel like you don’t do it a lot—”

His hands cupping your cheeks so he could crash his mouth to yours cut you off as he held you still and in return you gripped his waist, pulling him into you so you could feel him against you once more. 

“Steve.”, he whispered as he continued to hold you with his forehead on yours. “Call me Steve, baby.”

Your heart almost exploded at the term as you turned away from him to desperately dig for your keys while his entire body remained pressed to yours. You whined with pleasure as his mouth attached to your neck sucking in little love bites as his palms clung to your waist keeping your ass against his lower half. 

It takes an eternity to find what you need but when you hear that lovely jingle, you’re so thankful you won’t have to just kick the entire door down. As soon as its open, you both absently fall through with the front of your body meeting the wall of the entry way. 

Steve kicks the door shut with his foot and hikes up the bottom of your dress a bit roughly before moving the piece of cotton blocking your core so he can guide two of his thick fingers inside of your entrance. 

“Fuck, honey. You’re so wet. I-I—shit—my cock is gonna split you in half.”

“I want it—mmph—I want it to, Steve, please.”

The man pants in your ear as he grinds his bulge against you, alleviating some of the pressure in his jeans as his fingers continue to thrust at a merciless pace. 

“M’gonna make you feel so good.” You nod as his free hand tries to pull off your dress but you hastily help him lifting it over your head to toss to the side. “No bra?”

Smiling, you grab his wrist to halt his movements, turning yourself around so you could face him and kiss his lips. Your hands fumble with his belt buckle but when you finally get it free, you both giggle before his breath fans your face as your hand slides into his boxers to wrap around his length. 

“Oh.”

“I know, I know. I promise…I’ll go slow…”, he coos as he places delicate kisses along your cheek to your neck. “Fuck, your hand feels so good.”

“H-How long has it been since someone has made you feel good?”

“It’s…It’s been a while.” 

As you push his jeans and boxers to his knees, Steve hisses as his cock springs free and he places his palm beside your head to help him balance himself as his forehead rests on yours. 

“Too long. You deserve to feel good, Steve.” Your thumb smears the little beads of precum along his tip and your pussy clenches around his fingers as he shudders at the pleasant feeling. “Can I taste you?”

Nodding, he licks his lips as he removes his hand so you can slide down and take his length in your grasp. Just the tip of your tongue against his slit had him mewling as his now free palm pets your head. 

“Fuck, Y/N, do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” Your mouth envelopes him, bobbing your head as you hollow out your cheeks and take him down as far as you can. “That’s it, pretty girl, j-just relax. K-Keep your—mmph—keep your throat open for me.”

You pull back for some air and spit the remnants of drool that followed onto him as you continued to pump him with your hand. 

“It’s ok, Steve.”, you murmur in a hoarse voice that has his cock twitch. “Use me. I can handle it.”

Tangling his fingers in your hair, your professor pushes you forward making you gag a little as his dick hits your throat. 

“I don’t know if—shit—you can handle a cock like mine, honey. H-Have you ever had anyone as big as me?”, he asks, tugging you back long enough for you to shake your head before shoving himself back into your mouth. “Good. Good girl. I-I can teach you and train this sexy body to take me. I’m going to—mmguh—I’m going to fucking ruin you for anyone else.”

Your eyes squeeze shut as he thrusts his hips, holding you for a few seconds to allow your throat to constrict around him before pulling you away to kneel down and sloppily kiss your lips. 

Without detaching from him, you slither further into the apartment with your back flat on the floor and him putting his whole weight on top of you. As he choppily pulls his pants and boxers off the rest of the way, he smiles when he hears you giggle as you watch him fumble with one hand to dig through his pockets. 

“What are you looking for?”

“A condom…I’m pretty sure…I still carry one…” 

Again, you laugh as his tongue pokes out in concentration while his eyes glare off into the void.  

“We don’t have to use one if you’re comfortable.” At your words, he freezes as his gaze shifts to meet yours. “I’m on the pill and I’m clean. It’s been a bit for me to… kinda had a crush on this guy I thought I had no chance with…”

When his soft irises cloud over with jealousy, you bit your bottom lip to keep from embarrassing him till it clicks in his brain you meant him and he sighs at his own stupidity as his forehead falls onto your stomach. 

“I’m a fucking idiot.”

“No, you’re not. You’re adorable.”, you smile as your fingers run through his messy hair. 

“I’ve never had a girl raw before. I don’t want…you to be disappointed…”

Your fingers slide down to caress his cheek and without missing a beat he turns kiss your index. 

“I’ve never had a man whose cock is as big as yours and…I’m afraid of disappointing you…

“Hey, hey, no, no, no, sweetheart, you could never so don’t even think that.”, he cooed as Steve pushed up onto his arms to crawl further up your frame. 

“You could never disappoint me either so ‘don’t even think that’.”, you mimic causing him to erupt in a fit of laughter as you feel any last bit of tension break. 

Locking your eyes on his, you lift your hips as you pull down your panties and toss them by his clothes near his feet before reaching up to remove his button up shirt leaving you both vulnerable for each other. 

“Are you ready, honey?”

“Yes, Steve, I’m ready.”

Lowering himself on to you, he softly kisses your lips as he utilizes his knee to open your legs a bit wider. You hold your breath as your professor maneuvers his hips allowing his shaft to rub between your folds and his tip catches your clit.

“Everything’s ok, baby.”, he whispers. “The mere idea of you…”

Steve’s voice cracks as he gently sings and you both breathily laugh as he continues. 

“The longing here for you…”

With a gradual thrust, his mushroom head breaches your entrance as he watches your jaw go slack and feels your hands grip his shoulders. 

“You’ll never know—fuck—how slow the moments go… What’s the—the next part, Y/N?”, he groans as his eyes scrunch closed and he tilts his forehead to yours as he continues pumping his hips allow every inch to gradually fill you. “You can do it, baby. Tell me.”

“Soooo big…fuck, Steve…”, you whimper as your legs circle around his waist. 

“I know, pretty girl, I’m half way in… C-Can you take more? Say it.”, he commands when you nod. 

“I can take more. I can take it all, baby, please.”, you beg.

“You want to feel all of me? Ok, sweetheart, but you have to sing to me that next part.”

Your fingers tangle in his hair again as you press his face into your neck. 

“…Till I’m near you…Ahhhh my God, Steve!”

While you sang, he took the opportunity to thrust his cock the rest of the way inside of your cunt and he grunted at the feeling as your pussy hugged him tightly. He had never felt anything this perfect before, always hindered by the latex of the condom. 

Now Steve could feel your core clinging to every vein as he pulled back and pumped into you again. His dick felt the warmth of you and your wet slick sticking to him and he knew in that moment, he’d never want to have you any other way again. He always wanted to feel your pussy like this while you moaned his name and panted with every hit to that spongy spot inside of you no man had ever reached before. 

Testing the water, he turned his head to kiss your cheek as he delivered a particularly rough thrust that had your eyes rolling back as your nails dug into his skin. 

“Fuck, S-Steve…j-just like that…”

“Just like that, baby girl?”, he asked as he repeated his motions. “You like it hard like that?”

“Yes.”

“Oh my God, Y/N, your pussy feels like heaven. Can I fuck you?”

You knew what he was asking and you were just as needy for it as he was. 

“Fuck me, Steve. I m-meant what I said…fuck me till…I can’t move. I-I want to feel you through out my day.”, you whimper, struggling to form coherent thoughts as his pace quickened and his mouth sucked on that sweet spot against your neck. “Just like that, baby. Fuck…Fuck me…please…make me cum!”

“Cum on my cock, Y/N.”, he growled as your back arched and you sung his name to the ceiling so loud he was sure your neighbors would have something to say about it tomorrow. “Good girl! Fuck that was sexy.”

“C-Cum, honey. Fill me up.”, you exhaustedly whispered with a smile as he chased his high till his finger curled in your hair, clinging to you as his rhythm faltered and you felt his release coat your walls.

You laid there listening to the sound of him trying to catch his breath as your hands tenderly rubbed along his slightly sweaty skin. When he finally began to lift his body off you, however, you hissed and his features flooded with worry. 

“Go slow. I’m just a bit sore.”

You watched as he blinked as if lost in a thought for a moment before kissing your forehead and rising to his feet so he could lift you into his arms. 

“Bathroom?”

“In my room.”, you answer as you point in that direction. 

After placing you back down, you observe him with amused eyes as he turns on your facet and begins to make a bath, smelling each one of your soaps and choosing one he likes the most. 

He disappears for a moment leaving you alone until you hear the soft sounds of Ella Fitzgerald flow through the speakers in your room. 

“I love her voice.”

“Yeah me to.”, Steve beams. “My mom used to listen to records on Sundays. I have no idea why but Sundays were ‘listen to records’ days and she loved Ella. She would always sing along.”

Once your tub is full, the man carefully places you in the water, his palm tenderly petting your hair as he lightly groans on his descent to the floor.

“Calm down, old man.”, you tease eliciting a little chuckle from him as he reaches for a washrag to begin cleaning you. “No one has ever done this for me before…made me a bath after sex…”

“Hm, they should. Aftercare is important especially when your sore like you mentioned.”

“Always teaching me something, Mr. Harrington.” His movements stall only for a moment and your head hangs. “Do you regret it? What we just did?”

“Let's fall in love Why shouldn't we fall in love? Our hearts are made of it; let's take a chance.”

Steve places his fingers under your chin and tilts your eyes to look at his. 

“No…Not even a little bit. You…you inspire me, honey. For the past few years, I have felt so…listless. I was just going through the motions of life with no direction because I thought that’s what you’re supposed to do, you know? My dad always said you need a career that’s tangible and ‘Music isn’t tangible’.”, he mimed in a deep authoritative sounding voice, smiling when you giggle. “You make me want to try my hand at it again. You…make me want to be happy.”

Leaning towards him you capture his lips with yours. 

“I’m just scared. I’m a professor and you’re a student…for the time being anyway… I don’t want to make things complicated for you.”

“Let's close our eyes And make our own paradise Little we know of it; still, we can try

To make a go of it.”

“Maybe we can take things slow and see where that takes us? You won’t complicate things for me, Steve. I like you a lot and I want to experience all your happiness with you. I love seeing you open up the way you did on stage.”

“Pfft that’s because I was singing about you.”

“No!?”, you fake gasp and he rolls his eyes playfully as he gently pushes your shoulder. 

“I’d, um, I’d like to take you on a proper date. There’s a restaurant outside of town that has music and some delicious food. The atmosphere is amazing and I’ve been thinking about how much you’d like it.”

Your grin grows as you watch him get more animated talking about this place he enjoys as those giddy butterflies return to fill your tummy at the fact that he wants to share that joy with you. Pulling him towards you again, you kiss him a bit more passionately than the last one. 

“Is that a yes?”

“I'm happy as a queen And foolish though it may seem To me that's everything.”

Steve smiles wide as you sing, kissing your nose up to forehead before singing along with you. 

“You'll never know How slow the moments go Till I'm near to you.”

##################

@debkk16 @myherometalhead @micheledawn1975 @chelebelletx @utterlyinsanity @twirls827 @veemoon @wroteclassicaly

[mandoalorian]

the spaces between us [bucky barnes x f!reader]

Pairing: Congressman!Bucky Barnes x Personal Assistant!Reader

Synopsis: A storm brews between you and Bucky—one fueled by fear, frustration, and the ghosts of your pasts. As tensions reach their breaking point, you seek solace in the one person who understands what it means to have your agency stripped away. But while you and Yelena prepare for the battle ahead, Bucky and his team are setting fire to the past—unaware that you’re walking straight into its ashes.

Word Count: 5000

Tags/warnings: 18+ explicit content, employer x employee, p in v, office sex 2.0!!!, this is angst city and i am they mayor - sorry in advance :), domestic bucky <3, jealous bucky <333, posessive bucky <333333

Masterlist

prev chapter <3 | congress & carnality masterlist

You woke up to the sound of something sizzling. Then popping. Then—

“Shit.”

You cracked your eyes open and realised Bucky wasn’t in bed. The space beside you was still warm, but the man himself was gone—and judging by the scent of charred batter wafting into the bedroom, he’s on a one-man mission to burn down the kitchen.

You grabbed the first thing in reach—one of his old, gray shirts with frayed sleeves and a faint coffee stain on the hem—and slipped it over your body. It hung off you like a dress, swallowing your frame in warmth and his scent, a mix of cedarwood, gunmetal, and syrupy sleep.

Padding barefoot down the hall, you found him shirtless at the stove, his hair still messy from sleep. He held a spatula in one hand and stared down at a very, very burnt pancake.

He didn't notice you at first. You leaned against the doorway and folded your arms, biting back a laugh. “If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were trying to summon the fire department.”

Bucky turned, startled—and then grins, sheepish and boyish, his cheeks tinged slightly pink. “This was not how it was supposed to go.”

You raised a brow and walk into the kitchen. “Were you trying to surprise me with breakfast?”

“I was,” he muttered, dumping the blackened pancake into the trash. “You ruined the surprise by waking up early.”

You smirked and came to stand beside him. “You ruined the surprise by setting off every smoke alarm in the building.”

He laughed, low and raspy, and you leaned up to kiss his cheek. “Let me help.”

The next ten minutes were a blur of flour-covered hands and stolen kisses. You took over the stove while Bucky insisted on cutting the strawberries “perfectly,” which turned into him stealing half of them before they even made it to the plate. He sneaked his arms around your waist from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder, humming along to some old Sinatra song playing softly in the background.

“Bucky, no—” You giggled, ducking as flour puffed into the air when he slammed the bag down a little too hard.

He huffed, frowning at the white dust covering his hands. “I don’t remember pancakes bein’ this damn complicated.”

You grinned, shaking your head as you swiped some flour from his cheek. “You’ve fought intergalactic warlords, but pancakes are your downfall?”

His eyes narrowed, and before you could react, he smudged flour across your nose.

You gasped. “James Buchanan Barnes—”

Bucky smirked. “Somethin’ on your face, sweetheart.”

“Oh, you’re so dead.”

Before you could retaliate, he trapped you against the counter, pressing a quick, flour-dusted kiss to your lips.

You melted into it for a second before groaning. “Okay, okay, truce. Let’s just eat before we both look like ghosts.”

You settle at the kitchen table with your stack of uneven but edible pancakes. Bucky loaded his with strawberries and a very generous pour of syrup before nudging his knee against yours beneath the table.

“I like this,” you murmur. “Just… you and me. Peace and pancakes.”

“I could get used to this,” he says quietly, pressing a kiss just beneath your ear. “You make everything better, you know that?”

You smile and tilt your head, catching his lips in a slow, lingering kiss before setting the last pancake on a plate.

A mischievous thought struck you, and you grabbed your phone. “You know what you need?” You asked with a mouthful of pancake.

He looked up warily, mid-bite. “…A nap?”

You rolled your eyes. “No. An Instagram.”

Bucky groaned immediately, setting his fork down. “Oh, hell no.”

You pouted. “Come on! You’re running for president, Buck. You need social media.”

“I don’t need social media. I need coffee. And maybe a whiskey.”

You sighed dramatically, placing your chin in your hand. “Firstly, it’s barely ten in the morning. No whiskey. Secondly, imagine how many people would love seeing you post. They love you, Bucky.”

He scoffed, but you could see the way his ears tinged pink. “No, they don’t.”

“Yes, they do. And if you don’t believe me, we’re making an account right now.”

Bucky groaned as you slid your phone toward him. “This feels like a trap.”

“It’s a campaign strategy,” you corrected, opening the Instagram app. “Here, type in a username.”

Bucky eyed the screen like it was a foreign object. “How do I—”

You laughed. “Just type your name.”

“…Just my name?”

“Well, obviously not just ‘Bucky.’ It’s taken.”

“Who the hell else is callin’ themselves Bucky?”

You snorted. “I don’t know. Maybe the guy who owned your apartment before you.”

Bucky muttered something under his breath, but he took the phone, typing in @jamesbarnesofficial.

“See?” you said encouragingly. “You’re already a pro.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Now what?”

You took the phone back. “Now we take your first post.”

Bucky raised a brow. “What kinda post?”

“A selfie.”

Bucky groaned. “Nope. Absolutely not.”

You pouted, scooting closer. “Please, Buck? Just one.”

He sighed, shaking his head, but there was amusement in his eyes. “…Fine.”

You grinned, shifting so you were right beside him, resting your head on his shoulder. “Okay, look at the camera.”

Bucky hesitated, then gave a small smirk as you snapped the photo.

Looking at it, you had to admit—he looked good. Blue eyes soft, lips slightly curved, his metal arm catching the morning light. You, beside him, looked equally lovestruck.

“Perfect,” you said happily. “Now, caption ideas…”

Bucky stared at the screen, frowning. “People really care about captions?”

You laughed. “Of course they do! What about something presidential? Like ‘A new chapter begins’?”

Bucky made a face. “Cheesy.”

You snorted. “Fine, what do you wanna say?”

He thought for a second, then typed: Good morning.

“…That’s it?” you asked, blinking.

“Yep.”

You laughed. “Okay, Grandpa. Hitting ‘post’ now.”

The moment the photo was up, your notifications exploded. Likes, comments, shares—it was immediate.

Bucky’s brows lifted. “That’s normal?”

You nodded, scrolling through the replies. “‘MY PRESIDENT!’ ‘The hottest man in America.’ ‘Bucky Barnes world domination when?’”

Bucky flushed slightly, clearing his throat. “People are crazy.”

You giggled, wrapping your arms around him. “Told you they love you.”

Bucky scrolled through the comments, the screen of his iPhone flashing as each one popped through. By the second, his Instagram was inundated with messages. “Hey, look, this person said good morning back,” Bucky smiled proudly. 

“Yeah?” You asked, cutting some more fruit to go with the pancakes. “What’s their name?”

Bucky squinted as he read the username. “BuckyIsDaddy6969.” He said flatly.

You let out a chortle. “Oh, agreed.” You grinned. Bucky stood up, collecting the plates to clear the table. 

He pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “Only one person’s opinion matters to me.”

You smiled, warmth spreading through your chest.

Then, like clockwork, the morning news kicked in from the living room. And just like that, the warmth of the morning was replaced with something much, much colder.

Bucky barely registered it at first—until the words Ethan Halloway echo through the safehouse.

He stiffened.

You glanced at the screen. The anchor was mid-sentence, voice polished and rehearsed. Behind her was a photo of Ethan standing in front of a podium, American flag rippling behind him.

“…in a stunning announcement early this morning, Ethan Halloway has declared his candidacy for President of the United States. The philanthropist and former CEO promises a campaign focused on renewal, unity, and transparency—”

“Bullshit,” Bucky muttered.

You frowned, setting your fork down and sinking back into your chair. “Did you know he was planning this?”

Bucky’s jaw clenched. “I knew he was a snake. Didn’t think he’d be this bold.”

Onscreen, Ethan smiled, waving to a crowd of supporters. He looked polished, confident, practiced—like the camera’s been his friend for years.

You watch Bucky’s face. His eyes darken, expression unreadable, that Winter Soldier edge flickering beneath the surface.

“I never liked him,” Bucky said, voice low. “Something about him… always felt off. Like he knew too much. Watched too closely.”

You raised a brow. “You mean he looked at me.”

Bucky shot you a look. “He stared at you.”

You laughed into your coffee. “You were jealous.”

He doesn’t deny it. Instead, he leans in close, metal fingers tracing down your thigh beneath the table. “Can you blame me?”

You met his gaze, heart fluttering at the intensity there. “You never had to be jealous, Buck.”

“I know,” he said softly, brushing your hair from your face. “But I also know men like him. The kind that smile with teeth but always want what isn’t theirs.”

You reached up, cupping his cheek. “I’m not something to be taken.”

He kissed you then—slow but possessive, like he needs you to feel every part of what he can’t say out loud. You melted into him, anchoring yourself in his warmth.

When he pulled back, you pressed your forehead against his. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”

His eyes softened. “Together.”

The news faded into background noise as you clear the plates and rinse off sticky hands. But even as he stole another kiss behind the sink, you can see it on his face—he’s already planning the next move. And so are you.

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The ride to Bucky’s office was quiet, but not tense. It was your first day out of the safehouse. You rested your head against the window while Bucky tapped the steering wheel in rhythm to some classic Marvin Gaye tune humming low on the radio. There was thoughtful look in his eye—he’s planning, thinking, already one step ahead. You knew that look. And you also knew it’s partially hiding the anxiety knotted beneath the surface.

You reached across the centre console, and laced your fingers with his. His thumb brushed over your knuckles. You didn’t need to say anything. Neither did he. Sometimes, silence between you says more than words ever could.

When you stepped inside his office, you’re hit with the scent of cedarwood, old books, and ink—his scent, the one that clung to his clothes, to your skin, to the back of your throat when he kisses you deep. The rich mahogany desk stood like a centrepiece at the room’s heart, polished and dignified, as out of place in modern politics as Bucky himself sometimes feels.

He tossed his jacket over the back of the leather couch and watched as you walked in, eyes lingering on your legs peeking out beneath his shirt—because yes, you wore the same one from this morning, claiming, “It’s comfy,” even though you knew exactly what it did to him.

He leaned against the door, watching you with that look. The one that strips you bare without touching you.

He’s on you in three long strides, grabbing your waist and backing you into the desk. His hands find your thighs, lifting you easily until you’re perched right where it all started.

The rich mahogany of the desk felt smooth beneath your fingertips, as Bucky stood between your parted thighs. His touch was firm, his lips insistent, like he was trying to ground himself in you, to drown in the feel of you before the weight of the world came crashing back down.

“Remember our first time? Here, in the office? It was a late night and I was trying to be professional,” he murmured, kissing your jaw, your neck. “You were wearing those red heels…”

You laughed breathlessly. “You were flustered.”

“I was wrecked.” He nipped at your earlobe. “You had no idea what you were doing to me.”

“Oh, I did,” you whispered, threading your fingers into his hair.

His mouth crashed into yours with hunger and heat, his hands sliding up your thighs, beneath the hem of your shirt. You gasped as his metal hand grips the edge of the desk, bracing himself, while his other hand presses against the small of your back, arching you into him.

“I’ve been thinking about this all damn morning,” he growled against your lips. “Pancakes and politics be damned—this is where I want you.”

He kissed you deeply, his hands spreading over your thighs, fingers digging into your skin as if anchoring himself. The air between you crackled with something raw, something urgent—like he needed this, like he needed you, like there was no room for hesitation.

“You know how many times I’ve thought about this?” he murmured against your lips, his voice low and rough.

Your breath hitched as his fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt. “Oh?”

His smirk was dangerous, his blue eyes dark with something primal. “Every damn time I sit at this desk.”

The confession sent a thrill through you. Your heart pounded as he leaned in, his lips grazing the shell of your ear.

“You bent over it—” His voice was gravel, full of sinful promise. “—spread out for me, taking everything I give you.”

A shiver ran down your spine. “Bucky—”

“Yeah, baby?” He dragged his mouth down your throat, hands slipping beneath your shirt, palms hot against your bare skin.

You swallowed hard, barely able to think with the way he was touching you. “You gonna stop talking about it and do something, or—”

He cut you off with a growl, yanking your shirt over your head in one fluid motion. His mouth was on you instantly, warm and wet and hungry, tracing a path of open-mouthed kisses down your collarbone, nipping at the sensitive skin as you arched into him.

The cold air against your exposed skin made you shiver, but the heat radiating from him burned hotter. His hands roamed freely, kneading, squeezing, memorizing.

“You drive me insane,” he muttered, dragging his lips down your stomach. “You know that?”

You grinned, threading your fingers through his hair. “Good.”

Bucky let out a breathless chuckle before gripping your hips, pulling you closer. His belt clinked as he unbuckled it, the anticipation making your pulse skyrocket.

His lips brushed against yours again, softer this time, slower, as if savoring the moment. His forehead rested against yours as he guided himself to your entrance, his breath warm against your mouth.

“Look at me,” he murmured, his voice hoarse.

You did.

And as he pushed inside, stretching you inch by inch, the world outside the office faded into nothing.

Your gasp mingled with his low groan, his hands gripping your waist as he pulled you flush against him.

“Jesus, you feel perfect,” he rasped, pressing his lips to your jaw.

He started slow, deliberate, savoring every inch of you. The desk creaked beneath you, the rich wood warm against your back as he moved, each thrust pushing you further into the surface.

Your nails dragged down his back, and he groaned, gripping your hips tighter. “Fuck, baby.”

You moaned as he snapped his hips, deep and controlled, his pace toeing the line between sensual and desperate. His name spilled from your lips in a breathless plea, and it only spurred him on.

Bucky lifted one of your legs, hooking it around his waist, sinking deeper, hitting a spot that had you clenching around him.

His mouth found yours again, swallowing your cries as he chased both your releases, the rhythm between you relentless and intoxicating.

He was losing himself in you—right there, on the desk where he made decisions that changed the world.

And right now, the only decision that mattered was this.

Because if the world outside this office was going to war against the two of you, then Bucky Barnes was damn sure going to claim you as his first.

And he did. Over and over again.

The only sound in the office was the slowing rhythm of your breaths, tangled together, heavy with the remnants of what just happened.

Bucky didn’t move right away. He kept you pinned to the desk, his forehead resting against yours, as if the moment he pulled away, the world would come crashing back in.

His hands, still gripping your waist, loosened slightly, smoothing over your skin, tracing gentle circles against your hips. His lips ghosted over your cheek, your jaw, then finally your lips—soft, lingering kisses that made you shiver.

“You okay?” His voice was low, raspy, still thick with the weight of it all.

You nodded, exhaling shakily, a small, breathless laugh escaping you. “Yeah. More than okay.”

His lips quirked, pressing another kiss to your forehead before finally pulling back, his hands still resting on either side of your hips. The absence of his warmth made you whimper slightly, and he chuckled.

“Don’t pout, sweetheart,” he teased, brushing a thumb over your swollen lips. “You’re gonna kill me.”

You smirked, stretching out on the desk, utterly satisfied, your body still thrumming with the aftershocks. “You’re the one who said you think about this every time you sit at this desk.”

Bucky scoffed, reaching for his discarded shirt on the floor and tossing it over you.

He leaned down, his nose nudging yours, lips brushing in a whisper of a kiss. “You—laid out right here, looking like a fucking dream—” He groaned against your skin. “I swear to God, you’re gonna ruin me.”

You grinned, pulling him down for another slow, lazy kiss, letting him savour you.

For a few perfect moments, there was no Ethan, no election, no Hydra—just the two of you tangled together in this stolen moment.

Bucky’s fingers traced idle patterns over your bare thigh, his other hand bracing against the desk as he just looked at you, drinking you in.

A quiet sigh left your lips, your fingers weaving through his hair, absentmindedly playing with the strands. “We’ll figure this out, you know.”

He hummed, skeptical but appreciative. “Ethan running against me isn’t just about politics. You know that, right?”

You rolled your eyes, grinning. “You never trusted him.”

Bucky’s jaw clenched slightly. “Damn right I didn’t.”

You smirked. “You were just jealous.”

His eyes darkened, and in a second, he had you pinned beneath him again, his lips brushing over your ear. “Can you blame me?”

A shiver ran through you as his mouth moved to your throat, leaving slow, open-mouthed kisses against your pulse. “Bucky—”

“I hate how close he got to you.” His voice was low, almost a growl. “Hate that he thought he had a chance.”

You sighed, threading your fingers through his hair. “He never did.”

Bucky pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his hand coming up to cup your face. His thumb stroked your cheek, blue eyes searching yours like he needed to hear it again.

“You’re mine,” he murmured, firm but reverent. “Yeah?”

You smiled softly, tilting your head into his touch. “Yeah, Buck. I’m yours.”

For a moment, he just looked at you—like he wanted to memorize this exact moment. Then he kissed you, slow and deep, like he was sealing a promise neither of you dared to speak aloud.

The world outside could wait.

Because right now, nothing else mattered but this.

Until—

Knock, knock.

“Barnes! Open the damn door!”

Bucky groaned into your mouth, his forehead dropping against yours. “Are you fucking kidding me.”

You burst out laughing, pushing at his chest. “You should probably get that.”

He sighed dramatically but didn’t move, his lips grazing yours one last time.

“I swear to God, if this isn’t important—”

The knocking got louder, followed by Sam’s unmistakable voice.

“Don’t make me break this door down, man. I got the shield with me!”

Bucky let out a defeated groan, resting his hands on either side of you before pulling away. He stood, grabbing his shirt off the floor, but not before shooting you a lingering, heated glance that promised this wasn’t over.

“You owe me,” he muttered, making you laugh.

You sat up, adjusting his oversized shirt over your bare skin as he finally moved to open the door—

And the world came rushing back in.

Bucky tensed immediately, eyes cutting toward the door. You adjusted your shirt and smoothed your hair as he crossed the room.

When he opened it, Sam Wilson stepped inside like a man on a mission, followed by Joaquin Torres, who gave you a sheepish wave.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Sam said, eyes flicking between the two of you with a knowing smirk. “But we’ve got intel. The kind that can’t wait.”

Bucky leaned against the edge of the desk, posture straightening. “What is it?”

Sam didn’t waste time. “President Ross has been transported to The Raft. Isolated. Banner’s serum’s stabilizing his gamma sickness, but he’s off the grid for now—maximum security.”

“Good,” Bucky muttered. “Means he’s out of the way.”

You watched quietly, pulse still steadying from earlier, but the energy in the room had shifted. Something tense hung in the air, and it only thickened when Joaquin stepped forward.

“We’ve got a plan,” he said. “To burn Hydra’s Russia base to the ground. Wipe it off the map.”

Your stomach dropped.

Bucky tilted his head. “You’re sure it’s time?”

Sam nodded. “We’ve got the layout, the personnel counts, the weak points. If we move fast, we can dismantle it before Hydra regroups. We’re talking tonight.”

You didn’t speak at first. You just stared at the floor.

Bucky nodded. “Okay, I can be there.” 

Your gaze snapped up to your boyfriend and you placed a hand on his shoulder. “Bucky… can we talk about this first?” You asked in a hushed tone. Bucky said nothing, he just gave you one of those stoic, empty looks, his ocean blue eyes edging for you to continue. So you did. Softly, you said, “I don’t think we should destroy it yet.”

Silence filled the room.

Bucky turned to you, brows pinching together. “What?”

You swallowed the lump rising in your throat. “I—I need to know what happened to me there, Buck. I need to remember.”

“What are you suggesting?” Bucky shared a glance with Sam and Joaquin, who looked equally as perplexed.

“I can go and investigate myself. I know the room they kept me in, I can find answers… I just need a little time.” You explained, your voice trailing away. Bucky didn’t know it yet, but you had learned to fight for this very reason; you had been training with Yelena for this very moment. Now was your chance. It had to be now. You couldn’t let the guys destroy the one thing that would give you the closure you needed to heal and move on. 

Bucky let out an exhale. “It’s not safe—”

You felt a sting in your chest. “You don’t get to decide that,” you cut in before he could finish, voice rising before you could stop it. “You don’t get to erase it like it never happened just because it’s easier for you.”

His expression shifted. From concern to hurt. Then anger. And you felt your heart ache when you knew what was coming. “You think this is easy for me?” he snapped. “You think I don’t wake up every night wondering what they did to you in that hellhole? You don’t even remember yourself!”

“Then why won’t you let me go back?” You stepped forward now, shaking, feeling the confrontation bubble inside of you. “You, of all people, you should understand why I need this.”

His jaw clenched. “And why is that?” He beckoned.

“Because— you are the Winter Soldier.” You regretted the words as soon as they left your lips.

The colour drained out of Bucky’s face. 

“Were— you were the Winter Soldier,” you corrected yourself but your voice was merely above a whisper. The damage had already been done.

“So that’s who you see me as?” Bucky asked, his eyes glazed with unshed tears. He took a step back from you, a frown set deep in his face. The look of betrayal. 

“No—Bucky, I misspoke. I just—” Your voice cracked. “I’m scared. I don’t know what they did to me. There are pieces missing. Yelena has noticed things about me and I’m afraid something is wrong. It’s like I’m changing. And I didn’t tell you because I was afraid you’d shut me down, just like you are doing right now.”

Bucky ran a hand through his dark hair. “I’m trying to protect you.”

“That’s not protection, Bucky. That’s control.”

“I’m not trying to control you—”

“But that’s what it feels like!” You didn’t care that Sam and Joaquin were still standing there. “You don’t listen. You don���t ask what I want. You just decide.”

His voice dropped to a low growl. “Because what you want might get you killed.”

“Then let it be my choice.”

The silence that followed was thunderous. No one moved. No one breathed.

Joaquin shifted uncomfortably. Sam stepped forward. “Maybe we should give them a minute—”

Bucky didn’t even look at them. He was still staring at you like you’d just torn something out of his chest.

When the door clicked shut behind them, you finally turned away, blinking hard.

“Don’t walk away,” Bucky said behind you.

You faced him with fire in your chest. “Then listen to me. You’re not the only one with trauma, Bucky. You’re not the only one who had to survive something.”

His mouth parted like he wanted to speak, to take it back, to say anything else—but he didn’t.

You didn’t wait.

You stormed past him, tears spilling hot and fast, and slammed the door behind you as the skies outside opened up with rain. The sound of it swallowed your sobs as you ran through the street, heart aching, chest heaving.

You didn’t see Bucky until he burst into the corridor, following after you.

“Wait!” he shouted, half-soaked already. But before he could chase you, Sam grabbed his arm.

“Give her space, Buck.”

Bucky looked like he might explode from it. “She’s—she’s out there in the rain, I can’t just—”

“She’s hurting,” Sam said firmly. “And you’ve gotta let her breathe.”

Bucky stood there for a long second, fists clenched, chest heaving.

But he didn’t move.

And you didn’t stop running.

You didn’t remember how you got to Yelena’s place.

The rain had soaked through every layer of your clothes, your shoes squelched with every step, and your fingers trembled as you fumbled with the keypad outside her apartment door. By some miracle, you’d remembered the code she always grumbled about changing but never did.

The door creaked open before you could knock.

Yelena stood there, eyes narrowing at the sight of you — dripping wet, shaking, eyes red from crying. She didn’t say a word. Just stepped aside, letting you in.

You left puddles across her hardwood floors, your coat peeling off with a sickening wet slap. Your arms wrapped around yourself, more to hold yourself together than to stay warm.

“I was wondering when you’d come knocking,” she said quietly, moving to grab a towel from the linen closet.

You sank onto her couch, chest still rising and falling too fast. You didn’t know where to begin. The fight replayed over and over again in your head, Bucky’s voice, your own, the look in his eyes—like you’d broken something sacred.

Yelena tossed the towel at you, then walked into the kitchen. You heard cabinets opening, the clink of mugs, the comforting hum of her old kettle. A few moments later, she returned with a steaming cup of tea and a dry blanket. She didn’t press you. Didn’t interrogate. She just sat beside you and let the silence fill the room.

“I said some horrible things,” you mumbled, throat raw. “To Bucky.”

She didn’t respond right away. Just sipped her tea.

“I told him he didn’t understand,” you continued, your voice cracking. “That he was trying to control me. I stormed out.”

Yelena exhaled softly, setting her cup down. “You’re allowed to want answers.”

You turned your head toward her. “He was trying to protect me.”

“Protecting you and deciding for you are not the same thing,” she said, her accent thick but even. “Believe me. I know what it’s like to have people make decisions for your body without your consent.”

You flinched. That hit a little too close to home.

“Red Room?” you asked quietly.

Yelena nodded, eyes darkening. “I spent years being told what I was. What I wasn’t. The scariest part wasn’t the pain. It was the not knowing where they ended and I began.”

You swallowed hard. Your hands curled around the mug in your lap like it was the only thing tethering you.

“I feel like I’m unraveling,” you whispered. “Like something is in me and I don’t understand it. I want to look Bucky in the eye and know he’s not afraid of me.”

Yelena gave you a long look. “He’s not afraid of you. He’s afraid of losing you.”

Your lip trembled. “I’m afraid of that too.”

She leaned in slightly, her voice softer now. “So don’t lose yourself first.”

A beat of silence stretched between you.

“I have to go to Russia,” you said, more to yourself than to her. “I need to find out what happened to me in that place.”

Yelena didn’t hesitate. “Then I’m coming with you.”

You blinked, surprised.

She smirked. “You didn’t think I was gonna let you get all the fun intel, did you? Besides, I’ve got a few ghosts to burn.”

You let out a soft, broken laugh. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I know,” she said simply. “But you’re my friend. And we’re going to get you answers. Then we can blow the place to hell.”

You exhaled, a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “Thank you.”

Yelena stood up, cracking her neck. “Now come on. You can’t cry into your tea all night. I’ve got a spare catsuit that’ll fit you, and we’ve got a plane to catch.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You’re giving me one of your catsuits?”

“Temporarily. You ruin it, I kill you.”

Despite everything, you smiled. Just a little.

You would get the answers you needed, no matter what. You were unstoppable.

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[scarletwants]

it had to be you.

notes: aaron is one of my favs & this frank sinatra song reminds me of him!! enjoy <3 summary: hotch unexpectedly falls for his intelligent and kind coworker, discovering love in an unlikely place. warnings: aaron being a softie, tooth-rotting fluff.

Aaron Hotchner was not a man who believed in serendipity. As Unit Chief of the Behavioral Analysis Unit, his life was governed by logic, structure, and an unwavering commitment to justice. Emotions, especially romantic ones, were neatly compartmentalized, kept under strict control. That is, until you walked into his life.

It was a Wednesday morning, the BAU office bustling with activity. Agents were preparing for the latest case, the sound of clicking keyboards and hushed conversations filling the air. Hotch was in his office, reviewing a case file when you knocked on the door, a hint of a smile playing on your lips.

"Got a minute?" you asked, your eyes reflecting both determination and warmth.

"Of course, come in," he replied, gesturing to the chair opposite his desk.

You closed the door behind you and took a seat, placing a folder in front of him. "I think I found something in the victimology that might tie the cases together."

Hotch took the folder and began to review the contents. As he read through your meticulous notes, he couldn't help but be impressed by your keen insights and thoroughness. It wasn't the first time he admired your work, but today, something felt different. There was an unfamiliar flutter in his chest, one that he quickly brushed aside.

"This is excellent," he said, looking up to meet your gaze. "I think you're right. This could be the link we've been missing."

You smiled, a genuine expression that reached your eyes. "Glad I could help. Should we present this to the team?"

"Yes, let's do that," Hotch replied, rising from his seat. He followed you out of the office, his mind lingering on the way your presence seemed to light up the room.

As the days turned into weeks, Hotch found himself drawn to you in ways he hadn't anticipated. It wasn't just your intelligence and dedication that captivated him; it was the way you treated everyone with kindness, the way your laughter filled the room, the way you made even the darkest days seem a little brighter.

One evening, after a particularly grueling case, the team decided to unwind at a nearby bar. Hotch usually kept his distance during such gatherings, preferring to maintain his professional boundaries. But tonight, something pulled him to join in. As he entered the bar, he spotted you sitting at a table with the rest of the team, your laughter ringing out above the din.

"Hotch, over here!" you called, waving him over.

He smiled and made his way to the table, taking a seat beside you. The conversation flowed easily, and for once, Hotch allowed himself to relax. As the night wore on, he found himself stealing glances at you, each one reinforcing the growing realization that you were different. Special.

When the team began to disperse, you and Hotch were left alone at the table. You looked at him, a question in your eyes. "Walk me to my car?"

"Of course," he replied, standing up and offering his hand. You took it, and the simple touch sent a jolt of electricity through him.

The walk to the parking lot was filled with easy conversation, but there was an undercurrent of something more. As you reached your car, you turned to face him, your expression serious yet tender.

"Aaron," you began, your voice soft, "I've been meaning to tell you something."

He held his breath, his heart pounding in his chest. "What is it?"

You smiled, a touch of nervousness in your eyes. "I... I think I'm falling for you."

For a moment, time seemed to stand still. Hotch felt a rush of emotions he hadn't allowed himself to feel in a long time. "You have no idea how much I've wanted to hear that," he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. "I think I'm falling for you too."

You took a step closer, your hand finding his. "So, what do we do now?"

Hotch smiled, a genuine, heartfelt smile. "We take it one day at a time.”

As you stood there under the soft glow of the parking lot lights, Hotch realized that sometimes, the most unexpected moments led to the most beautiful outcomes. And in that moment, he knew that meeting you was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

[trinitygirlfailuresantos]

let your heart be light

Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x reader

prompts: Caught under the mistletoe

song: Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas by Frank Sinatra

summary: after 8 months of pining, fate works in your favor to get you and the shy WSO together. or maybe it was rooster who got you two together? who’s to say!!

warnings: no use of y/n, but there is the nickname “Mouse”so much fluff you’ll get a cavity. there are switches between you and bob’s pov, but its shown with a divider! mentions of alcohol and food. no descriptors besides she/her pronouns! no smut but as always 18+

wc: 3.1k

a/n: wow i have been stuck with this. but its pushed me to do new things and i had so much fun! i absolutely love the holidays. i hope you love mouse and bob<3 this is for @lewmagoo ‘s holiday celebration. thank you for letting me be apart of it, and i hope you have the happiest of holidays!

“Shit! Mouse can you hand me another piece of tape? This piece of garland will not stay up.” With a laugh, you jog to where Penny is standing on the pool table, a dejected look across her face.

For the last 8 months, you've been working at the Hard Deck as a bartender for Penny, your mom’s wonderful best friend, who knew you needed a job to help with school. This week though, Penny asked if you could put down the cocktail shakers for tinsel because TOP GUN is having its annual holiday party.

Tinsel & a dried orange garland is hung in between the coffee mugs hanging from the ceiling, a table by the fireplace has been replaced with a Christmas tree with fighter jet ornaments, the warm-toned string lights hung around the entire inside have been replaced with multi-colored Christmas lights, and mistletoe is placed sporadically per request of Bradley & Natasha. The outside of the bar has also been decorated to look like a Hallmark movie. You two spent multiple days after work putting Christmas lights around the outside of the building, an inflatable snow globe that says “Happy Holidays” outside by the nautical ship wheel, and getting garland strung along the railing on the side deck.

After putting the finishing touches on decorations, you take a step back & take it all in. You’ve been struggling this year, as it is your last full year of your master's degree program: so many appointments, meetings, critiques, and an abundance of schoolwork. You’ve barely had the chance to live this year. This last week of decorating has allowed you to breathe, despite it being considered work. Being at the Hard Deck, around people you consider friends always fills you with warmth, especially when you see a certain sandy blonde, bespectacled WSO.

Over the 8 months of working at the bar, you and Bob have become somewhat friends, always making conversation whenever he needs a break from the other members of the Dagger Squad, learning about each other a little bit more each time he comes to get some peanuts. You would be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t harboring feelings for him, in fact you think it’s pretty obvious to maybe everyone besides Bob. Penny, Natasha, Jake, and even Maverick calling you out on your crush. They took to calling you “Mouse” because you scurry away so fast after interacting with Bob, like a mouse who just got some cheese. Always leaving the conversations so fast when they’re done, filled with warmth and a bit of worry that maybe you said something embarrassing.

With a sigh and a slight smile, you walk out to your car and head home. The moment your head hits your pillow, images of the quiet WSO pop into your head, dreams of a life together surrounded by love

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Bob has spent the past two hours trying to make these chocolate-covered marshmallows, look like the cutest reindeer and grinches anyone has ever seen. He knows he shouldn’t be putting this much effort into something people will be too tipsy to notice. He wants to impress you though. When he first saw you behind the bar at the Hard Deck, he became smitten. He remembers stumbling over his words while ordering a ginger ale, and the blinding smile you gave him, which showed no judgment. Since then, you have consumed his thoughts, dreams, and even conversations with Natasha.

Every weekend, he would gaze across the bar longingly at you, until Natasha inevitably forced him out of his seat to talk to you. She always tells him you like him back, trying to get him to make a move, but he never fully believes her. The conversations he has with you, flow like you two have known each other for years. They leave him with a warmth that could rival the warmth of a hot chocolate. He wants them to last forever, but he just cannot work up the courage to make a move.

So here he is, the night before the party, putting tiny details on little chocolate-covered marshmallows, in the hope that maybe it will start a conversation with you.

When he finally finishes the little snacks, he gets ready for bed. He finds himself thinking about you and what a life with you by his side would look like. Bob falls asleep with a slight smile on his lips, the nervousness about tomorrow replaced by a feeling of love.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The next day, you wake up and feel excitement rush through your veins. Despite having to work for half the party, you can’t wait to be surrounded by some of your favorite people. You put on your holiday playlist and hum along to Frank Sinatra’s Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas while you get ready for the night. You have to be at the bar a bit earlier than usual, the holiday drink menu takes a little time to prepare, and you also want to help Penny with any last-minute things she might need done. After putting the finishing touches on your makeup, you slip on the red velvet dress you bought for the occasion. The white lace on the cuffs and neckline give it the look of Mrs. Claus, which you thought was perfect for tonight. Slipping on your shoes and grabbing your keys, you make your way to the bar, the joy you felt from this morning never dying down.

Once at the bar, you immediately rush to where Penny is carrying a box of holiday glasses.

“Oh my, hold on Penny let me grab those from you!” Once she sees you, she immediately lets out a sigh of relief and a little huff of a laugh, “Thank you Mouse, I thought I was going to have to sit out here and wait for someone to help.” She grabs the door for you, and you both walk in, stopping for a moment to take in the sight of the lights and decorations. “We did a good job with this place, I don’t think I’ve ever seen it look so… joyful,” She said with a loving look. Looking over at her, you can’t help but be extremely thankful for her, and glad to be in the presence of someone so strong and lovely.

You put the box on the bar and start prepping drinks for the party, a variety of alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages the two of you made the day prior. After getting the pitchers of drinks from the back and to the fridge under the bar, you help Penny set up the food station with what you two already have, knowing that some of the TOP GUN members planned to bring their own dishes. Finally, when the prepping is over, you hear the door open and see Bradley, Jake, Mickey, and Javy walk in with bright smiles. You smile back at them as they make their way up to the bar, “Happy Holidays gentleman! Coyote, Rooster, you can sit the food over on that table over there!” Pointing to the table near the jukebox, you turn towards Jake and Mickey with a cheerful smile on your face, “What can I do for you?” Looking over the holiday drink menu, Jake turns back to you with that permanently plastered smirk on his face, “Happy holidays Mouse, can I get a nice cup of the spiked eggnog?” You nod, listening to the others tell you what they want, you move to get it all out of the fridge. As soon as you do you watch Natasha and Bob walk in.

Stopping in your tracks, you take in Bob’s look for the night. He’s ditched the khaki uniform for a red velvet jacket over a white shirt, and a nice pair of jeans, which is doing wonders for his legs. You realize then, that the two of you are matching. You also notice he’s got a plate of what looks like really cute marshmallows, jesus as if he couldn’t get more endearing. Standing mouth agape and eyes wide open, you hear someone clear their throat, and you’re snapped out of your thoughts. Blinking rapidly, you go back to what you were doing and get the drinks ready for the guys while Natasha and Bob make their way up to the bar.

While you're handing the guys their drinks, Natasha takes in the sight of your outfit, looks at Bob’s outfit, and then turns back to you with bright eyes, a smirk making its way onto her face, “Happy holidays Mouse! Looks like you and Bob here are matching tonight!” Before Bob can notice, you shoot her a sharp glare that drops as soon as you meet Bob’s eyes, a smile that reaches your eyes replacing it. “Happy Holidays Mouse,” Bob says while fidgeting with his hands. He seems to have a slight blush across his cheeks, and for a minute you think he might be just as flustered as you.

“Happy Holidays you two, see any drinks that catch your eye?” You make eye contact with Bob as you ask the question, but soon you break it if only to hide the obvious affection shining in them. Bob and Natasha look over the little menus put out, and he asks with a gentle smile “Can I get a cup of the non-alcoholic punch?” You nod your head and wait for Natasha to give her order, and as soon as she does you’re getting the drinks ready and put in front of them.

With one last shy smile shared between you and Bob, you let him know where he can put the snacks he brought, and you watch as they make their way over to other members of the Dagger Squad. Wistfully sighing as you watch more members of TOP GUN start pouring in, the Christmas music playing drowned out by laughter and friendly competition. Tonight will be busy for sure, but the love and joyfulness that surrounds the bar is worth the exhaustion you know you’ll be facing at the end of the night.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

When Bob walked into the Hard Deck, he was sure his heart was going to jump out of his chest at the sight of you. You look so gorgeous in the red velvet dress, that shockingly matches his outfit and a cheeriness that put a smile on even Tom Kazansky’s face. It wasn’t until Rooster snapped at him, that he realized he was staring. After the formalities at the bar, he knew he was going to be counting down the minutes until he could talk to you again. He watched as you talked to those coming up the bar, and made their drinks with skills he couldn’t even imagine. He daydreams about days of cooking your food while you finish school work on the couch, and spending the rest of the night cuddled up watching movies together. Natasha only makes a few comments about his staring, she already knows he plans to ask you on a date tonight so she doesn’t feel the need to push him too hard. Soon he watches as the last of TOP GUN piles into the bar, and as you finally get to take a breather.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

After the last member comes in, Penny nods, letting you know you can enjoy the party. Walking out from behind the bar, you go to the snack table to grab a few things. Once you have a bit of food on your plate, you make your way pool table where the Dagger squad has taken up their usual spots. You greet them all with a wide smile and stand beside Bob.

“Hi Mouse, you look lovely tonight.” You look down at yourself and fidget with the plate in your hands before looking back up at him, “Hi Bob, you look handsome tonight, I mean not that you don’t every night but the jacket is a nice touch.” You realize you’re starting to ramble so you let out a huff of laughter, “Sorry, you also look lovely tonight Bob.” You look at him and his features have softened, and his smile is so wide you wonder if it hurts. “Thank you, so tell me about your week,” the two of you fall into the flow of conversation. You tell him all about setting up the bar for tonight, and he tells you about teaching the new TOP GUN recruits this week. While he’s talking you take a look at the little snack you saw him bring in, realizing all the little details put onto the marshmallows.

“Bob did you decorate these??” You ask with wide eyes, realizing he must have spent hours on them. “I did, are they good? I wanted to make sure they were at least cute enough, despite them being eaten,” he says with a bashful smile. “They’re amazing! I mean the little hat on the Grinch? It’s so so cute!” You take a bite and let out a little moan at how good it tastes, but when you look back up that blush is back on his face, pupils dilated, and the tips of his ears are red.

Once you finish eating the plate you brought over, you set it on the table and turn back towards Bob. At that very moment, Bradley has decided he needs a lot of space for the pool game he’s taking part in. You and Bob are shoved a bit over, and he grabs your arms to steady you, and you gaze into each other’s eyes for a minute. The spell is broken by Natasha coughing and pointing up. You both look up and… oh. You’re standing right under the mistletoe. Looking back at Bob, he’s already staring back at you, then to your lips, and back to your eyes. You feel a shiver run down your spine. With a shy look, he begins to speak, “Mouse is it alright if I kiss you?” You can barely hear him over the chattering and music, but you do hear him. You nod your head and lean in.

When your lips meet it’s like everyone else in the bar has disappeared, the chattering and music are far away, the twinkle of the Christmas lights illuminate your closed eyes, and you taste the holiday punch he had been drinking. The tension in your body leaves, and you feel like you’re dreaming. The only way you know you are not is you can feel his hand on the back of your neck lightly massaging there.

Once you two pull away, the sounds of the squad cheering fade back in, and you hide your face in the crook of his neck. When you hear Natasha snap at them, you pull your head out and look up at Bob.

“Hi,” he says with a slight giggle, which seems to be contagious because soon you’re giggling as well. “Hi,” you reply when the giggles seem to die down. Your eyes trace his facial features and you fix his glasses back to their original position, a nervous smile playing on your lips.

Bob looks into your eyes and he seems a bit nervous, “I feel like I'm doing this backward, but I really like you, and I have since I saw you working behind the bar for the first time. Do you think maybe I could take you out on a date tomorrow?”

You tilt your head to the side, a kind smirk playing on your lips as you play with the hair on the nape of his neck, “Of course Bobby. Seeing you every week has been the highlight of my year, and you make me feel like the only person in the room whenever we talk. So of course, I would love to go on a date with you.”

Right as you finish speaking, you hear Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas carry through the bar. You two look into each other’s eyes, your breathing has slowed down, and you start to sway to the song. You know it’s not the most conventional thing but with Bob holding your waist, and a smile on his face, it feels right.

As the song plays you decide to think back on this year.

“Have yourself a merry little Christmas, let your heart be light”

Smiling softly, you decide this might be the best Christmas you’ve had. You feel as though there’s only you and Bob in the room. You feel like a weight is off of you as you lose yourself in the dance.

“From now on, our troubles will be out of sight”

Next year, you will have your master's degree and you can finally rest. You think about how with Bob by your side it doesn’t seem all that hard. You’re excited for what the future holds for the first time in forever.

“Here we are as in olden days, happy golden days of yore”

Being surrounded by these people who you have come to cherish, you get thrown back to your childhood and the warmth you felt with family at Christmas. How Christmas felt so carefree at the time, and so full of love.

As the song continues, you and Bob slowly move to holding hands and standing next to the rest of the dagger squad, who seem to all be feeling the song. They’re all singing and swaying while holding onto each other.

“Faithful friends who are dear to us, gather near to us, once more.”

Looking around you’ve never felt so surrounded by love. You’ve come to find a family in the best of the best.

“Through the years, we all will be together if the fates allow.”

You look at Bob and see a future of more holidays spent wrapped up in each other and the love of friends, you trust their skills as pilots, and trust that fate will keep you together.

“Hang a shining star upon the highest bough and have yourself a merry little Christmas now”

The lights in the bar twinkle around you all as you all gather around each other saying goodbye and happy holidays. The star on top of the tree in the bar reflects on you all and leaves you feeling warm inside. The smile on your face never goes away as you look at Bob with his friends.

When he comes back to you, you’re fiddling with your dress and you look at him with adoration, “Would you like to come over and watch a movie while we drink hot chocolate?”

He leans in and gives you another kiss, and it’s just as breathtaking as the first one. “Of course,” he says with a hint of breathlessness. When the two of you walk out holding hands, you look up to the night sky and realize this will be the first Merry Christmas you’ve had in a while.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

tagging: @floydsmuse @sometimesanalice @lunatygerqueen

[aggieharkness]

Have i earned it, mother? Chp. 3

Pairing: Avis Amberg x reader

Summary: You had never thought you would get to have a date with Avis, much less that it would be on New Year's Eve. No matter if it wasn't entirely perfect it would still be wonderful because she was with you and you were with her.

Warnings: smut (+18), affair, swearing, oral (Avis receiving), fingering (Avis receiving), oral (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), tit play. Romance, fluff, confessions, lingerie... I don't know what else needs to be added.

Authors note: Merry Christmas!!! It has taken me a bit longer than anticipated to finish this, but it's fucking long and my poor little neuron has been working overtime, still I hope you like this new chapter. The song that plays in the car is "Time after time" by Frank Sinatra and the ones from the restaurant are from the album "Love me the way I love you" by Jerry Vale. Please, do tell me if I need to be more graphic, if I'm lacking on something... you know I accept constructive criticism. If you want more, tell me. I am here for you, my dear people, I listen. Also available on Ao3. Finally, let's thank Patti Lupone for giving us Avis Amberg.

This is my Christmas gift to you all, so I hope you like it!! 😊🎄 Thanks to @bravewithacapitalb for being my beta reader, you are a God send. Also shoutout to those who didn't make it, I still appreciate you @dont-blame-me-she-made-me-crazy @4theluvofsapphos @celestemoon-9 @renafisher27

Chp. 1 Chp. 2 Chp.4 Chp.5 Chp.6 Chp.7

Word count: 26K (I'm very sorry but also not that sorry. I am aware that it's long as fuck.)

You made me love you

The music from your old record player echoed throughout the house, bouncing off the walls and into every room of your tiny apartment. With no neighbours around you, there was no issue with the volume, or with the way you banged the doors of your wardrobe as you fretted around your bedroom. Swaying to the beat of the trumpet, your body glided barefoot from the bathroom over to the bed, your sweet voice harmonizing with Fats Waller’s vocals as he sang “Ain’t Misbehavin’”, your hair curled, brushed, and pinned on the back of your head. Tonight was special and you wanted to look and feel as glamorous as all those girls at the studio that would be going to private or big parties, even if your plans were much simpler. With a beautiful deep black lace strapless corselette hooked around your figure and a pair of nude stockings secured by the clips that hung from the garment hugging your frame you stood observing two dresses. They had both cost you a fortune but thanks to Avis’s raise in your salary you had not had to ask the cashier if you could pay for them in three different transactions, you had just wiped out the cash and paid them in full. You had felt so rich, even if it had been just for a moment. Observing the gown on the left you took in the off-shoulder shape of the top, the tight draped bodice and the lightly ruffled and puffed skirt, a beautiful translucent lilac tulle around it complimenting the darker purple shade of the dress itself.

 It was more of a ballgown than anything else and you had nowhere to wear it, but it had been too beautiful, and back at the store you had thought that one Christmas gift to yourself wasn’t so bad, not when you hadn’t bought yourself something just for the fun of it in years. Moving onto the gown on the right you felt a smile creep up on your lips. It really was smashing, strapless, with a tight bodice and skirt that would certainly hug every single curve in your body, a slit on the right side that reached about mid-thigh. Touching the fabric with your fingertips you could not help the shiver of happiness you felt at the feeling of the midnight blue velvet. It had to be this one, since the first instants you had laid eyes on it, on that faceless mannequin back at the boutique, you had known it would be the dress you would wear to take Avis out on New Years Eve. Without giving it another thought you opened the back zipper and pulled it over your legs, around your hips until it finally covered your body, your arms and hands battling to get hold of the zipper to close it up. After a two-minute struggle that included jumping senselessly around your bedroom, you finally managed to zip it, smoothing the fabric and rushing to look at your reflection in the mirror. You could knock anyone’s socks off with the way your breasts practically spilled out and your leg peeked out from under the sea of velvet.

Giving your back to the mirror, in your tiny room where there wasn’t a place for a vanity, makeup pilled on your nightstand and over the bathroom sink, you made your way to the jewellery box that laid open over the covers of your bed, hands rummaging among the few pieces you owned. There was a pair of pearl earrings that you were not going to wear, Avis was a pearl sort of gal and you didn’t want to clash with her, two pairs of golden rings, a matching necklace, and a lovely sapphire set that you had been given years ago by a an aunt that you could not remember anymore but that your parents had said did questionable things for a living. Who didn’t at the end of the day? That set matched your outfit perfectly, the golden chain that wrapped along a string of rounded sapphires and crystals feeling terribly cold as you placed it over your collarbone, clasping it in the back. The earrings were small and didn’t seem to be heavy as you put them on, the final piece left being a simple ring that you slid on the middle finger of your right hand; somehow it didn’t feel right to place it on either of your ring fingers. The last touch that you needed to complete it all was your shoes, that you searched for all over the room, panicking for a second when you couldn’t find the box before taking a relieved breath, hand on your chest, as they had been under the bed. You must have accidentally kicked them while jumping to get the dress on. In that box, wrapped in a beautiful silk tissue, in all their glory, were a pair of black Balenciaga stilettos that had swallowed the last bits of your salary once all bills and amenities had been paid, of course. They were gorgeous, you were in love with them and once you put them on, fitting your feet like gloves, you took one last look in the mirror, the dark cherry red lipstick shade you wore complimenting the palette beautifully.

Checking the clock that rested on your nightstand, between the bottle of lotion and translucent powder, it read a quarter past ten. To you, it wasn’t that late, but Avis was probably absolutely famished by now, and you still needed to drive for over ten minutes to get to her place. You practically skated from one side of the bedroom to the other, spraying some perfume and grabbing the lipstick from the bathroom before rushing into the hallway, putting keys and other essentials in your purse, and yanking your old coat off the rack. Getting yourself a fancy one would have been pushing it a bit too much. Out of the apartment you stopped midway to the stairs when you realised you had not turned the music off, huffing in frustration and running back to your door, unlocking it and unplugging the record player. Rushing wasn’t going to get you anywhere if you had to come back every five seconds to turn shit off, so you made a leap through your apartment turning off lights and other appliances before locking the front door and heading down into the street. The sky was clear, full of stars that the streetlights would cover up as soon as you began to drive through the main avenues, the temperature cold but thankfully not as freezing as it had been that night, still you took a moment to breath in the crispy air and gaze at the universe above your head. Nature was beautiful every day of the year.

Returning your gaze to the street, right in front of your building was your beautiful burgundy car, waiting, a smile painting your lips. You could still hardly believe Avis had got it for you, sure after three hours of fucking each other at her place and after she had assured you she would, her frame relaxed and utterly satisfied as she signed the check without thinking about it twice and handing it to Mr. Russell, but it still thrilled you to no end. The memory of the both of you walking into the dealership with two completely different outfits, the men glaring and Mr. Russell rushing to greet you both made your smile even bigger, wondering if he had noticed the change of clothes and had simply decided not to mention it.

Unlocking the vehicle, it still thrilled you whenever your fingers touched the leather, that smell of new car lingering alongside Avis’s perfume in every crevice and stitch. It was the perfect combination. With your old one it would have taken you about three tries to get the engine up and running, this one was ready to go on the first try, moving smoothly onto the road and down towards the Amberg residence. When you had suggested to Miss Kincaid during a coffee break the possibility of going to the studio’s New Year’s Eve party, you had been excited, after all, it had taken you a whole morning to finally bring yourself to make the decision. But that little bubble of happiness had been burst upon hearing her say that it would not happen this year, at least not the way it always had been, at Mr. Amberg’s residence with every actor and actress in existence, but mainly with a very drunk Avis trying to be pleasant to all those idiots she had told you a thousand times she didn’t give a shit about. Mr. Samuels was hosting it instead because Mr. Amberg was going to some party at his Gentleman’s Club or something. You hadn’t wanted to press the matter too much as not to draw much attention to yourself and have Miss Kincaid asking questions. The initial disappointment had melted into nothing when you had come across Avis at the studio barely fifteen minutes after your conversation with Miss Kincaid and had blurted out if she wanted to spend New Year’s Eve with you, expecting her to smile politely and decline the offer by saying that she had to attend the party with her husband. Your knickers dropped though, metaphorically that time, when she agreed, sounding almost excited at the prospect of spending time with you and only you. That same evening you had found yourself looking for the perfect outfit in every store you could find, except the really expensive ones, you didn’t fancy the idea of selling a kidney for a dress if you could find a stunning one somewhere cheaper.

Dinners all over Hollywood had ended hours ago, people singing and dancing out in the streets as they headed to bars or private celebrations, drinks in their hands or in flasks deep within their purses and pockets. Your eyes observed it all, the bright lights, the sounds that the New Year was bringing as they mixed with the song playing on the radio. It sounded like Frank Sinatra, perhaps it was a new release or something, either way, it blended quite nicely with the world around you as Sunset Boulevard wrapped its atmosphere around your car. Taking a side street, you drove up a road filled with palm trees on either side before coming to a stop in front of the Ambergs’ gates. You didn’t have to wait this time, the old gentleman had seen you arrive and was already unlocking them, waiving to you excitedly as you drove the vehicle in and parked it on the side. He was wearing a bright red bowtie you noticed as you stepped out of the car, pulling your coat tighter around you, and had tinsel on his uniform hat. You made a mental note to ask him his name the next time you came over, he was far too kind not to engage him in conversation at some point. Locking your car, you flashed him with a genuine smile and an energetic wave before making your way to the front doors and ringing the bell. There was a wave of sounds on the other side, Gertie’s muffled voice saying that there was someone at the door, almost as if it was a code, and Avis’s panicked voice answering with something you did not quite catch. A few moments later the doors creaked open, the maid showing you into the entrance hallway, your eyes noticing that she was wearing a pretty dress instead of her usual uniform, a touch of rouge and lipstick on her face that suited her quite well.

-She will be right down miss. Would you like a drink while you wait?

-Oh, I’m fine, no need to go to all that trouble Gertie. You look very fancy, going somewhere?

-Welcoming the year with some of the ladies of my Bridge Club, miss.

-Well, I hope you have fun. I know I will.

She chuckled at the comment but didn’t say anything else, simply smiled knowingly before heading for the kitchen. Before you could begin to observe the room around you the sound of someone clearing their throat made you whip your head towards the stairs. You choked on the air you were breathing, sputtering quietly for a second. Holy shit. Angels could not shine brighter nor be more beautiful than the image your eyes were taking in.

The sight at the top of the stairs was right out of a fantasy novel where ethereal beings walked among simple mortals, mixed with those movies that captivated your heart with all the romance and glamour. Waves of red cascaded over her shoulders and framed her perfect face with such volume and shine that not even Rita Hayworth would be able to make your eyes stray. Those gorgeous deep brown eyes staring back at you through thick black eyelashes that seemed to be longer and more sensual tonight, her magnificent cheekbones adorned in gentle hues of pink and peach rouge. You could not help it, your eyes travelled down to her mouth, her usual shade of Victory Red perfectly applied. They seemed fuller and plumper tonight, sending a shiver of desire down your spine. Her long neck and enticing collarbones were exposed by a plunging square neckline that defined the top of her breasts exquisitely, her arms wrapped in translucent satin the same shade as her dress, an absolutely pristine white. Her curves, as hypnotising as river bends, were hidden under gentle drapes of silk that met at her waist, her legs peeking through the skirt as if folded on the side of her body, her hand holding the fabric to make sure you would be able to see the nude stockings that she was wearing underneath, her right foot resting on the edge of the first stair. Your eyes racked and ate at her long shapely leg, tongue running over your lips, her dainty feet dressed in matching pristine white heels that peeked from under the hem of her gown.

Avis was beautiful every day of the week, every second of every minute all year long, but the Avis that stood at the top of the stairs was a vision so divine, so sublime in every single aspect that you had to put your hand on the doorframe, your knees having grown weak. Licking her neck with your eyes you were glad you had forgone the pearl earrings, as she was wearing her own pair, much more expensive and beautiful than yours, and a matching necklace that rested gently over her collarbone, right under the hollow of her neck. With each breath she took her breasts rose and fell, drawing your body towards her as your eyes went back up to her face, locking with hers. For a moment you tasted chocolate on your palate. She took one step forward letting the skirt fall back into place, walking down the staircase slowly, absolutely delighted in the way your pupils had dilated and practically undressed her while also simply adoring her. Her hips swayed from right to left with each step, her right hand on the railing, tracing the banister with her fingertips. Even in the few feet that still separated you, you could already smell her positively elegant and rich perfume, dizzying your mind as you stood at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for the moment when she would reach your arms, allowing you to sweep her off her feet. One more step and she stood half a foot above you, your head lulled back slightly to keep on staring. Had you blinked since hearing her? Her index finger traced your jawline until it rested under your chin.

-Hello, dear.

-Hi… Hello.

-You seem a bit flustered. Do you need a glass of water? – she was teasing, of course, her voice low and sultry but sounding delighted to see you, and well, she was not entirely wrong; you were cursing yourself and wished you had asked Gertie for a drink after all, your throat suddenly dry.

-No, no. Just… Wow.

-I take you like it then. I got it tailored and ready for the festivities yesterday.

-It’s beautiful, but it’s you, as a whole, that makes it absolutely extraordinary. – she blushed a deep red at your compliment, her finger moving to toy with your necklace as she dropped her gaze, an embarrassed smile on her red lips. – You’ve even let your hair down.

-That was Gertie’s suggestion. Said that you would appreciate it. – she pushed the perfect waves over her shoulder. The initial idea had been to wear a different updo to her usual ones and call it a day, but that blessed maid of hers had mentioned how the style nowadays was more along the lines of letting the hair free. Avis had thought about it for a moment, wondering if you would actually like it or not. By the way you were practically eating her with your eyes she was glad she had followed Gertie’s suggestion.

-So she knows?

-We fucked for three hours the other day, honey. There was no way in hell I was going to come up with something to cover that up.  Don’t worry, she’s alright with this, us.

-I hope it’s due to the fact that I make you happy and not because you could fire her.

-Fire Gertie? Never, the house would fall apart. She’s simply happy that I’m happy because you make me happy.

-The word happy just lost its entire meaning after repeating it so much. – it took you a moment to build up the courage to touch her as you didn’t want to stain the gorgeous gown; she was a vision in white that you wanted to keep in your mind forever. Your hand went straight to her shoulder, caressing the side of her neck while twirling a lock of her hair. It was so soft, and it smelled like orange blossoms, an aroma you had mentioned you adored as it reminded you of home. She had taken notes. - But it’s okay, I think I can come up with a whole new meaning for it.

-What would it be?

-What I feel when I see you, when I’m with you. – you were enthralled by the way the lock of hair in between your fingers glided effortlessly, speaking in hushed tones while breathing her essence into your lungs, never wanting to stop. - One can be happy about a book or a dish, but what goes through my mind and heart when I lay my eyes on you cannot be simply referred to as happy, one must give the word a brand-new meaning to understand, to express.

-Could you… - her lips were hovering over yours, her right hand resting on the banister while her left one travelled to the back of your neck, but she didn’t take the next step to close the gap between you, she wanted to hear you. -Could you tell me? Make me see what you see?

-The night is young Avis, and I don’t want to spill all my secrets so soon. I promise that I’ll tell you, tonight, but if you need a little bit of help figuring it out on your own, just think about how your heart races when I’m with you, of all the little details you’ve left for me around my office, like little breadcrumbs that take me directly to you. No one has ever left me flowers or a sandwich with a note simply saying “Eat”. You take care of me even when you are not there, so I know you know the true meaning of the word, even if I never told you, even if I carried that secret to my grave. – your voice dropped into a whisper, eyes locked with hers now, your lips nearly touching. - You’ve even made yourself smell like home for me.

Is this how she had felt when she had married Ace? She could not remember her heart ever leaping in her chest at the sight of him, nor her breath hitching in her lungs when he smiled. She might be married to that man, but he made her feel like she was nothing, fuelling only hate and hurt in her heart. Your breath tickled her nose, your hand drawing out goosebumps all over as it continued twirling beneath her ear. Everything about you made her feel alive, not even the boys at the gas station could draw out the pleasure into care; they came, fucked her and left with a hundred dollars in their pocket, but you had come into her life without her having asked and you had stayed out of your own accord. You wanted her in your life as much as she wanted you in hers. None of the things you did to or for her were to earn a promotion or for Avis to connect you with higher ups in the industry like she had had happen with others before, you did all those things for her without expecting anything in return because you wanted to make her happy, as simple as that. Hearing you speak to her with such emotion, your eyes shining with a feeling she had not seen in such a long time drove her chest to constrict under her corselette, the prospect of hearing you say what she wanted you to say making her heart race, her eyes glistening with unexpected tears that your thumb wiped gently as they fell, not wishing to smudge her makeup. No, you are the only one who could make her feel like this, utterly desired and cared for. So loved.

-Why are you crying? Have I said something to upset you?

-No, darling, you haven’t done anything wrong, I’m just… happy.

-Just the way I like you then.

Finally, she pressed her lips onto yours, softly, treading carefully into your space while moving her left arm around your neck fully. It felt like coming home. She did not make an attempt to enter your mouth even when you parted your lips slightly to grant her access, she basked in the feeling of your mouth simply being pressed against hers, the taste of your carmine on her tongue when she traced it. You didn’t need to ask her what she was feeling after your conversation, her lips were giving you enough information with the way she pecked and gently nibbled, pouring everything into the kiss. Parting after a minute to fill both your lungs she pressed her forehead against yours, her soft red curls falling around and over her face, caressing and slightly tickling your cheeks. She gave you a few more pecks before pulling back needing to feel the skin of your face, your warmth, needing to know that this was not a dream and that you were indeed solid and real under the palm of her right hand. There was desire in everything the two of you did, but there were too many things to do tonight, people expecting you both and you had gone to all the trouble to do this for her, so Avis pushed the need to take you upstairs to the back of her head for the time being. Ace had dumped her to go partying with his friends, and probably a hooker or two, thinking she would be moping around the house like a sad drunk housewife, not thinking that Avis was resourceful and had a beautiful lady in her arms who had planned the perfect night. She was dressed to kill, and she would have the best fucking New Year of her life. About to give you another peck, Gertie accidentally broke the spell by crossing the threshold, coming from the kitchen. Both of your heads turned to look at the woman.

-I’m sorry to interrupt Mrs. Amberg, but Miss Kincaid has phoned in quite a state asking if you would be so kind as to go to Mr. Samuel’s house.

-Is she alright? – Avis pecked your cheek before setting foot on the entrance hallway, the silk flowing like water around her body with each step she took towards Gertie, her voice dressed with concern.

-She seemed… worried, perhaps angry as well ma’am and she was adamant that I tell you that she needs you to go to Mr. Samuel’s house.

-But she didn’t explain to you why?

-I’m afraid not ma’am.

-It’s okay Avis, there’s plenty of time until twelve. – the relationship Avis shared with Ellen Kincaid was long and comforting, but also frustrating and caring, and anything that woman said to Avis always helped her somehow, without fail. You had seen the Kincaid magic at work a few times since you had begun working as her secretary, calming shouting spells or angry huffs. You also knew Avis would do anything for her and had given Ellen plenty of advice about various topics throughout the years, so having her call reinforcements like this meant that someone or something was going on that only the mighty Avis could handle. You walked over to her, placing both hands on her arms, rubbing the soft fabric and the skin underneath in a comforting motion. - We won’t lose our reservations just because we are little bit late, and Miss Kincaid needs your help

-As long as you are sure about this and don’t mind driving to Dick’s house, I guess it’s alright. I can give Ellen a call though and see what she wants, save us having to go at all.

-I swear I’m fine with it, Avis. If you are worried about people seeing me with you, I’ll just stay in the car.

-What? No! I don’t give a shit about what they think, I just don’t want your plans to go down the drain.

-They won’t, I promise. We go, see what the problem is, fix it if we can and then leave. Easy plan.

-You say that now, when you are not amongst drunk actors and producers. We’ll go in but we don’t know when we might come out.

-I’ve survived shopping on Thanksgiving and Christmas. I can take a few drunks just fine. Come on, the sooner we get there, the sooner we’ll leave. - She groaned a little but followed your cue, grabbing her black stole from where it laid over the railing, throwing it over her shoulder, and picking up her purse from the little table next to the front doors. Gertie wished you both a good night, winking discreetly in your direction as you opened those big wooden gates for Avis, letting her walk into the night. You rushed over to her when you heard the click of the doors behind you, watching the lady as she stomped towards your car. – Hey, hey. Avis, wait, stop. – she halted her motions, turning around with a questioning look in her big eyes. You took her free hand in yours as soon as you reached her. – Don’t be mad, Ellen is your friend, and she might be in real trouble.

-I know. I’m not mad at her, nor you, I’m fucking pissed at Ace for not giving a shit about traditions and dumping the party on Dick. His house is not as big as ours and some of the people that get invited turn into fucking monsters when they’ve got a couple of vodkas in their system. I’m worried about Ellen, sure, but I don’t want to subject you to any of that. I don’t want you to be in harm’s way.

-I love that you want to protect me, Avis, honestly, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Ellen is our priority, and if something does happen to me while we are there, I’ll scream the house down or stab people with my heels, whatever it takes to ease your mind. But we will cross that bridge if get to it, okay?

-If someone lays a single finger on you, I’ll destroy them. Their lives, their careers, maybe even their bodies. – her eyes were dark as she stepped back into your personal space, pulling you against her frame with the hand that you were still holding, feeling the way her breasts brushed against your coat through her gown with each breath. The rush of desire that you had first felt when she had stood at the top of the stairs returned full force, the air around you both charged and hot. - They’ll remember who Avis fucking Amberg is and that she will take drastic measures when it comes to you.

-Holy fuck, Avis.

-I very much intend to do so to you, honey, but after we rescue Ellen. You’ve made a good case in her name, and you promised me a date, so get your ass in that car.

-Yes, ma’am.

-No ma’am tonight, Y/N. Until dawn, I’m simply Avis.

-Avis. – it was as if you were rolling her name in your mouth, seeing how it sounded, how it tasted on your lips and tongue, her eyes darting to the way you traced your own lipstick at the sound of it. – A most beautiful name. I can’t wait for it to be the first word I say when the New Year arrives, a name I won’t stop uttering until the very first rays of sunlight break through the sky, hopefully.

Two could play her game, you thought. She was so close to your mouth, she only needed to end the few inches gap that separated you and you would be hers to do as she pleased with, and yet she pulled away, dropping your hand and beginning to walk towards your car, hips swaying in the night. You needed a moment to collect your thoughts and calm your horny self down a little, pulling the keys from your pocket and unlocking the vehicle with shaky fingers. Avis stood on your side of the car, tracing the white top with her hand before walking behind you to round the vehicle and sit in the passenger’s seat. She took the chance though and spanked you as you bent to step inside the vehicle, a surprised yelp escaping your lips as your head wiped to look at her, an innocent expression on her face but a naughty smirk overtaking her eyes. How could you not freaking adore her when she tempted you like this! The action left a delicious sting on your ass that sent a shiver to your core as you sat down and waited for her to settle beside you. If she started behaving like his you would have to end the date earlier than anticipated so you could have your way with her. Engine on and with the car back on the road you followed Avis’s directions, her hand signalling when to turn and what exits to take. You had never been to Mr. Samuel’s residence, not that you could recall anyway and to be honest you wished that the trip wouldn’t have to be under these terms, you would have simply loved to accompany Avis and have a quiet dinner with friends, holding her hand and pecking her cheek as a thank you when she handed you a drink while engaging her friends in conversation. Things that Ace didn’t do with her because he was a fucking idiot.

Through the corner of your eyes, you saw Avis’s knee bouncing up and down, a sign that she was nervous, your right hand shooting to rest over it gently, tapping and rubbing it over her dress in calming motions. You could not take all that nervousness out of her chest, but you could try and make her feel a little bit happier and little bit less stressed. Feeling her hand on top of yours, her warmth seeping under your skin, was a delightful and quiet moment just for the two of you, her fingers playing with your ring, her free hand turning the knob of the radio up a little to hear the music better, humming to the tune. The lyrics were unfamiliar to you, but she seemed to be enjoying herself even if her leg would bounce every once in a while; you weren’t expecting her anxiety to vanish just because. And upon being pointed towards a house, cars parked everywhere with hardly any room to drive or manoeuvre your vehicle into a safe spot, you realised she had not been kidding. Mr. Samuel’s house was by no means small, compared to your tiny ass apartment, but it was small if you took Avis’s place as the standard size for a mansion. People were also everywhere, out on the street, in the garden, on balconies, literally everywhere. You were sure that if you waited for a minute someone would go up on the roof. Turning the car off Avis pulled out a cigarette from her purse, taking a deep drag before puffing the smoke into the cabin, the nicotine in her system calming her nerves a bit more. You waited though, until she was ready to step out, after all, you were doing this at her own pace, throughout the entire night you would be following her cues, never pressing, never asking or doing things she would not enjoy. A minute passed before she stepped out of the car with you in tow, flicking the butt of her cigarette onto the floor, her hand grabbing yours and pulling your body close as she made her way to the front door, smiling at people as they greeted her but never slowing her steps.

If you dropped a pin in that house, over a dozen people would get stabbed before it reached the floor, if it reached the floor. The music was blasting from the record player, people were screaming and laughing loudly, and the filters they would usually have when sober absolutely gone, the smell of alcohol floating in the air along with overwhelming perfumes that made you scrunch your nose. And Avis had to attend this sort of parties all the time? No wonder she drank, there was no way in hell a sober person could stand more than two minutes in there before going nuts. Trying to move in between all these people was a sport in itself, and trying not to bump into people’s drinks or elbows was something impossible to achieve, as you very well realised when you tried to squeeze past two men with Avis pulling on your hand and a random sharp pain had rushed up your back, making you hiss. Avis’s eyes were searching furiously for a head of blond hair belonging to Ellen, but all she could see were fake brunettes and red heads and many bald spots as she walked up a couple of stairs to get a better view and a wider range of heads. This was definitely worse than shopping at Christmas or Thanksgiving, at least you could make it to the door then. A group of over five men walked past you from upstairs, whiskeys in their hands, eyeing you both as if you were dishes on a menu. You glared, not because they were looking at you, you still had your coat on, but because they were looking at Avis, and they were not being discreet or gentlemanly about it. One of them lifted a hand, your eyes watching in slow motion how it rose up in the air and turned, fingers extended, as it went straight for Avis’s ass, though you were quick and grabbed his wrist before it collided.

-Touch her and I’ll rip your fucking hands off.

-Wow, wow, calm down sweetheart. We were just having some fun. – upon the sound of your voice, venom spewing from each word, Avis turned her head to look at you and the men she had not even taken notice of, her eyes on your hand as it still held his wrist right above her buttocks before lifting her gaze to your face. If glares could kill, they would already be dead by the way you were murdering them with your eyes.

-How much fun do you think you could have if I rip your limbs off, eh? Sweetheart.

His smile dropped, muttering “bitch” as he freed his hand from your grip and walked down the stairs with the other four twats following him. What the fuck was wrong with men thinking they could do whatever they pleased with women? It was a tale as old as time, getting catcalled, pushed away from jobs because one happened to have something that wasn’t a dick in between one’s legs, getting called emotional or hysterical when you were just fucking done with all their bullshit. No wonder ladies preferred the company of other ladies, at least if one was being a bitch, there was a good reason for it and not because a man was trying to get his hands under your skirt and you just wanted him to stop. The surprised and yet loving look that Avis was throwing your way caught you off guard, her lips mouthing a “thank you” under all the noise around you, the hand that was still holding onto yours giving a gentle squeeze. Did she think you were going to let anyone, be it a man, a woman or a fucking alien touch her without her consent? No fucking way. You reciprocated and returned the squeeze. A woman’s voice called out Avis’s name, forcing you both to break your gaze and turn to look at the foot of the stairs, Ellen standing there, wringing her hands on her chest. Avis pulled you down with her to meet the other woman, noticing a big red stain in her usual pristine blue suit.

-Thank God you are here. This is madness Avis

-What’s wrong?

-Just look around! I don’t know who half of these people are, and you know I usually don’t mind, but there was a fight not twenty minutes ago and Dick got a bottle smashed on his head! – the usually collected woman was two seconds away from a full-blown panic attack, and maybe, just maybe, you thought, the stain on her jacket might not actually be wine. A shiver of fear ran down your spine, all the anger and lust you had been feeling in the past five minutes jumping out the window. Maybe these sorts of celebrations weren’t you cup of tea after all. -Doesn’t Ace usually hire security for this sort of parties?

-Of course, I gave Dick the list with all the phone numbers.

-Well, either they got murdered in the back and we just haven’t found them, or he did not hire them.

-Alright, alright, calm down Ellen. Where’s Dick?

-In the living room. He’s got a nasty cut on his forehead, but I cleaned it up and bandaged it. Henry was with him the last time I checked, keeping an eye on him.

-Okay, let me talk with him. Y/N, you stay put. Don’t move from here at all, I’ll be back in a few minutes, I promise.

Before you could protest, she had let go of your hand, the crowded room swallowing both her and Ellen. And there you were, alone, standing at the foot of the stairs looking like an idiot with your hands in your coat pockets without knowing a single person around you. They were all glammed up, with expensive suits and gorgeous dresses that you had only seen in magazines everywhere, blinding in the lights of the chandeliers, the ceiling fuzzy under a cloud of smoke from pipes, cigars and cigarettes. Even with the doors wide open the atmosphere inside Mr. Samuel’s house was stifling, almost choking with all the heat and the smells. Without thinking twice, you untied your coat and pushed it off your shoulders, folding it over your left forearm, the relief of not cooking in your sweat a welcome feeling, resting your back against the railing. Whatever song was playing now you could not make it out over the loud conversations, not that you had much chance of trying to as you felt the touch of a hand on your waist and a glass of something transparent right on your face. The drink was being held by a manly hand, so obviously this wasn’t Avis tempting you, and following the arm attached to it you found yourself looking up at Mr. Amberg’s lawyer, Lon Silver. You had never talked with him except for perhaps a few times as you directed him into your boss’s office and the formal greetings that one was supposed to give, but it did not go unnoticed by you how his eyes remained on your chest for a few seconds too long.

-Well, Miss Y/L/N, I wouldn’t have taken you for a party girl. Here, have a drink.

-Good evening, Mr. Silver. I have only accompanied someone, so I will be leaving shortly. Parties are not my thing, sir.

-Drop the formalities, please, it’s New Year’s Eve. Go on, drink, you feel rather tense.

The grip on your waist became uncomfortably hard and rough, the strength he was applying close to being painful, his hand pushing the drink onto yours. People inside your personal bubble was always a big no-no for you, except for Avis, she could do whatever she desired, so having Lon that close to you, his strong aftershave mixing with the alcohol of his breath made all sorts of alerts just go off in your head. Your eyes moved from the glass to his face observing how dark his eyes were along with the smirk on his thin lips, your body taking a step back. That seemed to both anger him and excite him because his smile dropped completely, the glass being pushed into your arms all while his grip on your waist became nearly bruising, still you did not grab the bloody drink. The sound of glass shattering was hardly heard in the crowded hall, but it seemed to echo in your head, reverberating as the drink crashed against the tiles and Lon pushed his body closer, his other hand now holding onto your wrist. It was as if your mind was frozen in place. This was Mr. Amberg’s lawyer, he could destroy you in the blink of an eye, but you did not want him, at all. That fear that had overtaken you not that long ago after hearing Ellen’s words was reaching the panicking peak now, heart racing, blood pumping in your ears.

-Sir, please, let go.

-It’s always the same with you young girls, isn’t it? You dress like this, to draw the eye but when a man looks at you, you all become frigid bitches.

-Mr. Silver, please, you are drunk.

-So what? That hasn’t stopped me from fucking others before.

-Please, stop, let go of me. I’m sure you would not do this sober.

-Wouldn’t I? I would have done unspeakable things to you already if I had had the chance. Which I do now, so don’t be a bitch. We’ll both enjoy it. – his head was in the crook of your neck, smelling you in. You only had two options, you thought, pray that someone would come to the rescue or step on his foot with your stiletto hoping that he would let go and you could run for your life.

-LON! – fate had chosen for you, thank God.

Avis’s voice carried from under the living room threshold with such ease, the redhead having screamed practically at the top of her lungs, startling everyone in the hallway. The man she addressed in particular jumped in his spot, letting your wrist go but not your waist, turning to face the woman. His face was contorted in a fake smile and a sweet greeting.

-Why Avis! Aren’t you supposed to be with Ace? Oh, right, he’d rather spend his time with someone else.

-Oh, Lon, still behaving like a fucking pervert, I see.

Her steps were so hard against the floor that you thought one of her heels could snap at any moment, but you did not care much right now. Your body had sighed with relief upon hearing her, even if you were still in Mr. Silver’s grip and could not wait for her to say something so he would let you go. She was beyond angry, you could see it in the way her body moved, her fists closed, her eyes hard and cold under her eyelashes. Reaching you both she did not hesitate, everyone staring at them, the noise having died down a little, thankfully, and grabbed his crotch with her right hand, nails digging hard into his flesh. He screamed loudly and painfully and dropped both his hands to hold her arm, freeing you, almost as if he thought her capable of ripping his junk off with one quick motion. Thinking about it for a second you thought she could actually do it by how furious she was. Pushing yourself off the railing you rushed her way, standing behind her while rubbing your wrist a bit trying to soothe the red spot that had covered your sensitive skin, body shaking as the adrenaline released into your bloodstream.

-Who the fuck do you think you are?

-Avis, let go!

-Why should I? You did not let go of her, did you? Did you?!

-No! No! Jesus, Avis, let go!

-I’m saying this one time and one time only. – her grip became harder, her knuckles white with the effort, Lon turned into a ball of whimpers and whines of pain as his eyes filled with tears. – If you touch her again, even so much as breath near her again, I’ll blow your dick and balls off with a shotgun.

-Alright! Alright!

-No, I don’t think you get the message. Would you like a demonstration, cause I’m sure I can get my hands on a gun.

-NO! FOR FUCK’S SAKES AVIS, LET GO! I’M SORRY! I’M SORRY!

Satisfied with the tears that ran down his cheeks she finally let him go, the man dropping to his knees with his hands covering his crotch, whimpering pathetically. He was like a little baby, curled on the floor. Neither you nor Avis felt a touch of sympathy for him and his pain though; he was lucky in fact, she could have done horrible things to him in that hallway if she had had the weapons, and no one would have known what had happened as they were all too drunk to even stand straight. Her hands shot to your cheeks as she turned around, her eyes roaming like crazy all over your body to make sure you were alright, the hatred and fury that had glazed them now completely changed over to concern and worry. It did not go unnoticed the way her eyes lingered on your dress, but she was quick to shake herself out of looking at you with lust, she still needed to assess that that man had not harmed you in any way. This was what she had feared, not him in particular, but anyone who could have seen your pretty face and decided they wanted you for themselves. This time she had got lucky and had intervened right on time before he could have done anything truly horrid to you, but that did not shake the feeling that she had failed you, out of her chest. In your head the only thought that was going around and around was that she had saved you, that the entire ordeal was over and she had saved you, which overtook every feeling of fear that man had imposed on you. After all nothing had happened to you, he didn’t get the chance, and you were not going to let him ruin your and Avis’s night.

-Are you okay? Has he hurt you? You are rubbing your wrist; did he twist it? Do you need a doctor?

-I’m fine, Avis.

-But its red, it probably hurts. – her warm hands moved from your cheeks to your arm, holding your hand gently to inspect the redness that was already vanishing.

-I’m fine, Avis.

-I’m sure there’s a doctor somewhere in here. Let me ask Ellen sh-

-Avis! – she stopped her rambling at the sound of your voice, her eyes locking with yours, her movements still at last. – I’m fine. He didn’t hurt me, my lady in shining armour came to my rescue and made sure of that. I’m fine.

-You are fine?

-I’m fine.

-Alright, I believe you. But at the slightest thing I’m taking you to a doctor.

-If it leaves your mind at ease, I’ll let you drag me all throughout Hollywood.

It was lucky Lon was already on the floor because Dick had stepped out into the hallway searching for Avis, her voice having carried well into the street, and he would have flipped at the sight of her with her hand on Lon’s crotch making him cry. Ellen stopped him from approaching either of you, whispering in his ear while pointing at the ball of flesh on the floor and you two, chuckling silently at the socked expression on his face. What a party, he thought. Avis’s hand was back in yours, fingers intertwined, pulling your body towards the front door all while asking Ellen if there was anything else she needed to do, to which the blond woman answered with a no. She blew a kiss at both of her friends while wishing them a good night and a happy New Year, still walking towards the street, only to stop for an instant when she heard Lon yelling that he was going to end her by telling Ace, at which she did not even bother to turn around. She didn’t need to see his face to answer him.

-Fuck off, Lon.

With Avis beside you now, it was easier to move on from the fear and craziness of the entire situation, laughing after a moment or two, your hot breath turning into translucent steam in the cold air of the night as you let Avis carry on pulling you. Only a few handful of people would remember this party, and it was both a good and a sad thing, but at least you could enjoy the hilarious points of tonight right there and then as you unlocked the door of your car, stepping inside it after throwing your coat on the back seats. God, the look on his face… you should have taken a picture. Avis was surprised at your response, thinking that maybe the adrenaline had overtaken you, and this was your body’s reaction to such a crazy thing. Still, she chuckled lightly before beginning to laugh alongside you as if she had been infected by it, her forehead on your shoulder, both bodies shaking uncontrollably. It was always joyous to hear her laugh, her body relaxed against yours, her voice loud and melodious echoing against the car top in absolute glee. You thought she didn’t get to enjoy herself like this often and she deserved it, even if the motive right now was less than pleasant. Wiping a tear that had gathered at the corner of your eye, you took a few calming breaths trying to stop the nearly continuous chuckles that melted along with Avis’s as she pushed herself against the door. When you finally caught your breath, it was impossible not to smile at the reddish blush that had spread over Avis’s cheeks, neck, and chest, her hair framing her face, complementing it beautifully. Even the light from the streetlamps seemed to be working in her favour tonight, making her eyes shine like rich molten chocolate and her hair like fire against her olive kissed skin skin.

She was doing nothing, absolutely nothing, and yet your body was on fire once more, the last few minutes forgotten in the back of your head. Perhaps it had been the entire act of saving you and the consequences that it had brought upon Lon, maybe it had been the way she had thanked you for protecting her from those jerks. Maybe it was the balance, the union of making sure you were both safe, you could not be sure, but you did know that you wanted her, here and now, and by the way her smile moved from simple relaxation and fun to desire, she had thought the exact same thing. It was not as if the car was a stranger to the two of you fucking in it. But this time it didn’t feel like you were simply lusting after her as you knelt on the seats, crawling towards her until her back was pressed firmly against the car door, your hands resting beside her hips but without touching, you face inches from hers, it was love. Her dress had fallen open as her legs parted to accommodate you, those firm and shapely legs dressed in nude silk that could drive you insane. Your tongue traced and licked her half-ajar lips, feeling her hot breath on your mouth, the carmine like a drug that could drive you wild. Pupils were blown wide, breaths rapid, nearly coming in pants when your hands moved onto her legs, fingering the fabric of the clip on her left thigh, feeling the way her skin rose in goosebumps, a quiet moan escaping Avis’s lips, those utterly desirable lips that were brushing against yours, those lips that had fought for you, threatened for you, pleased you and taken you to the heavens. Those lips that you claimed against yours.

It was rough and messy, but it also held a loving nature that made Avis sigh against your mouth, both your tongues battling for dominance, her teeth scrapping your upper lip. Both her hands had shot to the back of your head to keep you firmly pressed against her, chest against chest. Your hands moved from her stockings to her inner thighs as slowly as you could, drawing out whimpers and whines that were muffled by your kisses, teasing the edge of her knickers. That simple motion made her gasp loudly, one of her hands holding onto your wrist to prevent it from moving away from where she needed it the most. You let her guide you, fingers swiping against the lace feeling how wet she already was. Had her playing saviour turned her on?

Her head fell back against the window as your fingers worked on her through the fabric, whimpering when you removed them completely only to scream an instant later when you pushed the offending garment aside and plunged two fingers deep inside her. As much as you wanted to trail kisses down her exposed neck you did not want to risk staining the dress cherry red, so your lips remained upon hers as your fingers pumped in and out of her, curling to hit that spot. Avis had not had this in mind at all when you had both left the house, but she was not going to complain when you were working her into an orgasm that she could feel building in her core, like a fire that had begun to sparkle and was rapidly growing and blazing. Her hips thrust to meet your movements, your free hand using one of those moments when her hips were up in the air to remove the dress from underneath her, the feeling of the leather under her ass enticing her even further.

The whines and whimpers were growing into pants and moaning gasps. With your thumb you rubbed her clit, the surprised yelp that escaped her throat swallowed by your lips, the speed of your fingers never faltering. She was mumbling in your mouth, but you could not make out her words, not that you needed to, her body was signalling that she was close with the way her walls were clenching around your fingers. After giving her clit a hard rub her orgasm overtook her, catching you both off guard, her head lulled back as her back arched off the door forcing your kiss to end as her voice rose in high pitched gasps. Even in this cloud of pleasure, she was trying so hard not to scream your name at the top of her lungs, there were too many people that would be able to hear her, her juices all over your fingers, walls and thighs trembling, her hands grabbing onto your shoulders for dear life. You slowed the pace of your fingers, rubbing her calf with your other hand to bring her gently down from her high, her body slumping against the car door after a moment, her breasts nearly spilling out of her dress as her breaths returned slowly to normal. Her eyes were closed as if she could savour the pleasure you had given her for a bit longer like that, opening them when she felt you pull your fingers out. She watched mesmerized how you took a handkerchief out of your purse to clean her up as gently as you could, her body twitching whenever you brushed her swollen clit, returning her underwear to its initial position once you were satisfied with your work. Bending forward you gave her inner thighs a gentle peck before sitting back on your knees.

-What was that for? – her voice was quiet, a lazy smile on her lips, fingers playing with the chain around your neck basking in the afterglow.

-For saving me, for being my lady in shining armour, for nearly ripping Mr. Silver’s balls off… For simply being you, Avis.

-For being me? You know you don’t have to do this every time I do something for you.

-Trust me, it was no effort on my part besides, it is my most sincere opinion that you should always be shown just how wonderful and perfect you are.

-I like that you seem to not be bothered by my many faults. Ace would have gone insane had he seen what I did to his precious lawyer.

-Good thing I’m not Ace. I know when I have the most extraordinary woman in front of me, and instead of taking her for granted, I take her to dinner. If you still want to.

-Of course! You worked too hard for this; I won’t let my own lust and desire ruin your plans. This orgasm can last me until midnight, so surprise me Y/N, take me wherever you want.

-To the Heavens then.

-Oh, you soppy girl.

-No, the restaurant is called the Heavens, I swear.

It was stupid, an absolute nonsense that made you both laugh, a little quieter this time. This is how you wanted to spend every minute of your life, with her, not a worry in the world. Avis moved to sit properly on the passenger seat, draping her skirt back over her legs and pulling a cigarette out as you settled yourself behind the wheel. The ride was completely different this time. The air around you was calm, relaxed, and contented, the tune on the radio suddenly a song you knew like the back of your hand, humming quietly as Avis began to sing. You had never known she possessed such a beautiful voice, sweet as honey, gentle like a breeze with a pitch so perfect you wondered if she had ever done anything that wasn’t simply perfect in her entire life. It was outstanding, to say the least. 

Time after time

I tell myself that I'm

So lucky to be loving you

Your breath hitched in your lungs at her words, stunned by the emotion that dripped in between the music, her hand searching for yours where it laid beside you on your seat, intertwining your fingers. She didn’t need you to tell her how you felt, she knew, in everything you did, in every glance, every smile, every kiss, and every word that left your lips. Singing her feelings to you was the best way for her to let you know how she felt, that in her life Ace was the other woman. This was what the meaning of the word happy meant to you, what it had brought to your bleak and monotone life, and dressed it in colourful clothes and astonishing sunsets.

So lucky to be

The one you run to see in the evening

When the day is through

Many nights you had dreamt of that, opening the door to your apartment to find her curled up on the couch, waiting for you. You hadn’t wanted her to spend the evenings alone in that big house, you had wanted to be beside her, no matter what people thought. The lights of the side streets weren’t as bright as the main avenue, but that gentle hue seemed to agree with Avis, watching her sway her head at the beat of the music, her eyes closed. How could light play such games that with a full moon over your heads its glow always bathed her at the perfect angle making you melt in your seat. She looked like she belonged in a movie, her body gently bent over a balcony railing letting the moon wash over her as her love serenated her.

I only know what I know

The passing years will show

You've kept my love so young, so new

And time after time

You'll hear me say that I'm

So lucky to be loving you

You had parked in front of a colourful restaurant, nearly hitting the trunk of a blue Lincoln that was stationed in front of you as your eyes had been bewitched by Avis, loud voices surrounding the car from the people that were either leaving or going into the restaurant, but they were nothing but background noise to you. Avis’s eyes locked with yours, you seemed to be doing that a lot tonight, singing the words directly at you, never blinking. Your heart fluttered in your chest, once more her mouth telling you that she was so lucky to be loving you, her voice dropping from singing to speaking the last line, stating a fact. And your greedy heart accepted it because to you the meaning of happy was Avis. The rest of the song went by in silence, both of you lost in each other so deep that the world could have vanished around you, and you wouldn’t have taken notice, your lips pecking hers, foreheads pressed together. If time could be stopped, you would have done so right there and then never wanting to move on from this. The next song on the radio was a cheerful Christmas song, but the change in tune did not break the spell, it only seemed to enhance the joy of the moment as you turned the engine off and stepped out, pulling her towards you into the street.

The atmosphere was contagious, people singing off-key and dancing clumsily over the pavement. Pulling Avis against your chest you joined in the simple bliss of the moment, swaying from side to side with one hand on her waist while the other held onto hers, twirling among the people. It made her laugh, following your steps that seemed to be getting closer to the restaurant door, an older couple clapping as you twirled Avis under your arm before pressing her against you, dipping her. Her laughter only became louder, gleeful, with her body arched towards the floor, her precious red waves falling free. Returning her to her feet as she caught her breath, she let you guide her and open the door so she could go in first. What a lady you were. She was taken aback by how beautiful that place was, the entrance hall covered in frescos that reminded her of the Sistine Chapel, a gorgeous semicircular arch in white marble dividing the entryway from the dining room, the lights dim but not so much that one wouldn’t be able to see where they were going, adding to the mystical atmosphere. A young man approached her dressed in a black suit with a name tag on his lapel, greeting her kindly and asking if she had made a reservation. Avis nodded, turning her head in your direction as you let the door close, stepping inside the restaurant. The man’s eyes suddenly shone in recognition, greeting you excitedly, smiling down at Avis so she would not feel pushed aside or left out.

-Y/N! We were all worried you weren’t coming!

-Hello, Marco. We got caught up in something, but we are here now. How is your father?

-You know, in the kitchen. He’s been asking me for the last hour if you had arrived.

-You can tell him now that I’m here, and that I’ve said to leave you alone. – Avis watched the exchange with curiosity, the boy’s English good but with a very thick Italian accent, his hands gesturing as if they had strings and were being controlled by an external force. There was a comforting glow on your face at the sight of the boy, as if you had been lifelong friends, perhaps as if he were a brother. Your eyes drifted towards her, taking her hand and placing it in the crook of your arm, smiling sweetly at her. - Oh, Marco, this is Avis Amberg, my dinner guest for tonight.

-Pleased to meet you, Signoria Amberg. Y/N has spoken so much about you.

-Good things, I hope.

-Of course! She’s taken with you. Please, follow me.

She had never been to this restaurant before, but it had clearly been there for a while now, the dining room absolutely filled up with people. The walls were covered in stained glass windows, the ceiling decorated with gorgeous chandeliers, the floor made out of white marble as pictures and paintings of beautiful landscapes dressed the empty spots on the walls. It had a wonderful homely touch in every detail, names carved on the pillars that were disguised as columns, like something one would find inside temples, old photographs of people that were clearly simple folk from somewhere outside glamorous Hollywood in every corner. The conversations were loud and buzzing with excitement, children laughing and playing, old couples holding hands, smiling at each other. This place was so different from those fancy places that she frequented with Dick and Ellen or that she would take producers and actors to butter them up. This place was wholesome, it had a history seeping through every crack and corner, and Avis could not think of a better place for her to be than here with you. Marco guided you both through tables, speaking with some of the guests in Italian, switching to English as he addressed others, the gentle sound of music in the background in a mix of songs from both countries that pleased the guests. Coming to a hallway he opened a black door showing a spacious room with a table in the back, in front of a huge stained glass window.

-Here you are Signoria Amberg. Y/N – he bowed his head before closing the door, leaving you alone. Avis was shocked not only because the room was even more beautiful than she could have imagined, walls dressed in white wood, the ceiling filled with images of fields of lemons and olive trees painted al fresco, but because she knew how hard and how much this sort of rooms cost.

-A private booth? Y/N, this must have cost you a fortune, I would have been alright with a table in the main dining room.

-I know, but Marco’s father never gives me one. This room is my room whenever I come here, so he doesn’t actually make me pay for it. “It is yours until I die,” he says to me, so I’ve stopped fighting.

-How long have you known these people? You seem like part of the family. – she was looking around the room, her hands tracing the shapes of the columns, feeling the warmth of the tinted wood under her fingertips. She clearly liked the place, the lump that had formed in your throat when she had first stepped inside the restaurant vanishing. You had been worried there for a moment that she would not like it and would ask you to take her somewhere else, but her eyes shone with excitement and her frame relaxed, so there was nothing to worry about in the end.

-Well, when I came to Hollywood a few good years ago I came across Marco who needed help with the restaurant as they were building it, so I offered a helping hand. I’ve been a part of the family ever since. It’s not an exciting story I’m afraid.

-Not every story needs to be exciting to be good, don’t you think? You were alone and now you have them… and me. That’s the best story in my opinion.

-Bimba! – the doors practically flew off their hinges at the force the man standing under the threshold used, his frame tall and big frame, rounded stomach, and hairy face filling up the room, that deep rambling voice tainted with a thick Italian accent, just like his son, bouncing off the walls. It startled you both, Avis practically jumping on the spot, a graceful hand on her chest.

-Jesus, Giuseppe, you nearly killed me there.

-Ah, nonsense! It’s good to see you again, you have been away for too long.

-I came by three days ago!

-As I said, too long. Ah, who is this bellissima signoria? – in two big strides he was towering over Avis, taking her hand and kissing the back of it, a gentle blush spreading over her cheeks at the gesture. If this weren’t the two people you knew the most in the world, you would be jealous, but Avis would never leave you for him and he would never leave his wife for Avis, of that you were sure, still you glided to her side, placing your hands on her shoulder to look up at the big man.

-This is Avis Amberg.

-She is the woman you never shut up about?

-Giuseppe!

-What? It is you who talks about her, not me. So, Avis, may I call you Avis, nah, I will call you Avis, how do you like our Y/N?

-Giuseppe, please. – Avis thrived in the way you hid your face in the crook of her neck as if you could run away from the embarrassing conversation, both your bodies shaking lightly with Avis’s laughter. God, she wished she could see you, you would probably be the most delectable shade of red.

-Since you asked, I like her very much Mr…

-Call me Giuseppe. So, you like her, and she likes you… Ahhh, l’amore. So beautiful. When I met my Teresa, I thought she was horrible. She had a temper that could make her fight in a war, but when I talked with her, I knew I wanted her to be yelling at me forever. So, I married her. Now you have found your Teresa, Y/N, and I hope she yells at you exactly like you dreamed she would.

You didn’t quite want Avis to yell at you, more along the lines of you making her scream, but in a way he was right. You had found the woman of your dreams, you just had to make sure her husband never found out. Lifting your head from Avis’s shoulder, the orange blossom aroma of her hair filling your lungs, making you feel all warm and fuzzy, Giuseppe caressed your cheek with his big hand. He was a second father to you and his main project in life was to make sure all his kids were happy, including you, and although he did not understand in full why you would prefer a woman over a man, he could see the light in your eyes, the pink on your cheeks, how your days had moved from repetitive boring documents to finding a purpose. But what he could see most of all was that this older woman that you had in your arms shared that same light. Two perfect halves that had found each other, complementing the other, seeing the angles that the other person couldn’t, protecting and loving each other without a doubt, without expectations. He patted Avis’s hand gently before guiding you both to the table, pushing the chair to let the older woman sit first before moving on to yours, two menus already waiting on top of the table. He made his excuses to allow you to look at the dishes, closing the door and leaving you alone once more.

-He’s quite something.

-He’s passionate. He wanted to be a painter, a writer, an actor, anything and everything, so he feels things quite deeply. He did not offend you, did he?

-No, not at all. One would think that living surrounded by actors you should be used to this sort of thing, the passion, the art, but no. They are superficial boring people, most of them anyway. This Giuseppe has the heart of an artist, the emotions. It is a change from parrots that vomit scripts in front of a camera. – her eyes drifted onto the menus in her hands, looking at all the wonderful dishes that were written. - So why is he a chef?

-Because of his Teresa. She taught him all the things his mother could not, and he learnt, quite fast.

-Because he loves her.

-How could he not? She came into his life when he was down, broken, tired and bored of doing nothing with his life and she brought him spice, and sex, and happiness and how could anyone say no to the person that changes them for the better? How could he say no to his Teresa? How could I say no to you?

Her heart did not leap, it somersaulted, in her chest upon hearing your words, unsure if the first part was how you had felt before she had walked into your life or if it was indeed how the man had felt. It was true on both accounts. Her eyes drifted to look at you over the menu, seeing that you were looking back at her, the moment still in time. Avis had cried for too long about her life, her marriage, about how alone she felt as if she were just an accessory to Ace’s life destined to do nothing, be nothing. But suddenly you were there, and all that pain and hurt from the past decade or so had vanished into nothing, care and love blooming, feeling like she mattered for the first time in her life, and all the credit was yours to take. You had picked up her pieces and instead of gluing them together temporarily like Ernie had been doing for years, you were actively fixing her. There was no transaction, no contract to be fulfilled, no promotions or brand-new careers to begin, it was just little you giving little Avis what her heart needed the most.

Marco came back a couple of minutes later to take note of your drinks, informing you that the kitchen would stop serving warm dishes thirty minutes before midnight. Checking the clock on the wall you saw that it was fifteen minutes away from eleven thirty, so hurriedly you took Avis’s menu and began pointing at dishes telling her which ones were good and which ones were a little bit less good, earning a chuckle from Marco, making mental notes whenever she said that she didn’t like an ingredient for future dates. In the end, you settled on a two-person parmigiana di melanzane, a side of ruschette, which Giuseppe knew you adored, Eggs in Purgatory, and a bowl of chicken pastina. It was a lot of food, you knew, but there were just so many things you wanted her to try, so perhaps you had gone a little bit overboard, not that whatever was left would go to waste, no, Teresa would wrap it for you so you could take it home, maybe even make some extra bits here and there so Avis could take them home as well. True that she was nearly their age, but Teresa was a mother to everyone, be it a three-year-old or a fifty-year-old, and leftovers were leftovers in Hollywood and Italy. Marco wrote it all down before excusing himself, the sounds of the main dining room seeping into your booth for a moment before it all turned silent again. An idea popped into your head. Standing from your chair you made your way to the left corner of the room, next to the door, where a record player rested on top of a small table along with a box filled with vinyls. Avis rested against the back of her chair, lower lip in between her teeth, one leg crossed over the other allowing her knees to peek through the opening of her dress as she observed you flick through the disks, your curvaceous body moving gently, pulling one out after a minute.

She did not quite catch the title of the album, not that she was paying much attention when there was so much of your skin exposed for her to feast on, her eyes raking and drinking in every inch of flesh, waiting for you to finish settling the disk, placing the needle on top and turning the machine on. There was only the sound of the needle scratching over the vinyl for a moment before the soft chords of an acoustic guitar began to play. Of course you would choose a love song, you just couldn’t help yourself, but she did not mind at all, she hadn’t felt like a lovesick teenager in far too long and how could she ever be mad at you when you were walking towards her with you palm extended asking her to dance. She took it without hesitation, letting her body be pulled towards yours, her hands resting over your shoulders while she felt the warmth of your palms around her waist. The song was quiet, gentle in its tones making the words the centre of attention, a confession that was so close to slipping out of your lips, right at the tip of your tongue. You began to sway slowly, your feet not moving from the spot in the middle of the room, a place just for the two of you, no Ace, no studio, no Ellen or Lon, just Avis and you. You had both danced many times in your life, but nothing could compare to this private moment.

-I have not told you yet, but you look beautiful. That dress looks exquisite on you.

-Did you forget to compliment me and are trying to fix it before midnight? It’s alright if you did, we’ve had a hectic night.

-I did not, I was too in awe of you that I could not find the words. Saying that you look beautiful feels like such a weak compliment, perhaps I should say that you look bewitching, stunning, divine… I could go on you know.

-I wouldn’t mind if you did. – you just couldn’t get enough of her, be it her perfume, her gorgeous red lips, the way she looked at you with those big brown eyes of hers that made your legs grow weak. You would never understand how her husband did not fall to his knees every time she set foot in a room, it was madness. - It would be a change from only complimenting me when I’m in my underwear.

-As if you don’t do the same.

-No, I compliment you when you are not in your underwear, it’s different.

-And would you want me in nothing but my pearls if we were somewhere else? A chance to make sure I’m not in my underwear?

In the light of the chandelier, you could see how her pupils were blown wide, nearly overtaking the brown of her irises, the grip she had on your shoulders harder than before, her short nails scraping the nape of your neck. A quiet groan slipped out of your lips at the feeling, goosebumps all over your skin, her lips brushing yours but never truly kissing, the music still guiding you both around the room. The grip on her waist was harder, fingering the fabric, surprised that you could actually feel the lace of her corselette through the silk of her gown. God, you wanted her so bad, but it would be far too inappropriate to take her on top of the table when anyone could come in and call you out on your behaviour, you would just need to wait. Not that this foreplay was a bad thing, your eyes counting all the freckles that were exposed on her chest, licking your lips as the swells of her breasts rose and fell. Avis’s head was spinning, your berries shower gel powerful enough that she could almost taste it on her tongue along with your cherry lipstick, your long neck so tempting. She could bend and leave her mark right on your collarbone, make sure everyone knew you were hers, but she could not subject you to a reprimand from these lovely people you had learnt to love as family. She would have to wait.

The next song came, filling the space with violins that echoed off the walls, allowing you to take her hands from your shoulders so you could actually twirl her around the room, her skirt swaying in fluid motions around both your legs. You were quite the dancer she realised, feeling her body follow your cues with such ease, not bothering to stop when the door opened and in came Marco with Avis’s martini and your French 75. If he had wanted to comment, he had thought better than to actually say whatever had crossed his mind, keeping his lips tight and slipping out of the room as quietly as he could, not before letting his eyes linger as you spun Avis around, pressing her back against your chest, her hair flying around her like the fire she could make you feel with just a look of her adoring eyes. It was utterly delightful to have this woman that you had never in a million years thought would even look your way, in your arms absolutely relaxed. A moment later Marco came back with the bowl of pastina and the Eggs in Purgatory, assuring you the main course would be out soon along with the bruschette, your eyes twinkling at the sound of that. You hadn’t realised how famished you were until the delicious smell of tomato sauce and chicken broth filled the room, Avis’s stomach growling right on cue. She chuckled, placing a hand on her abdomen as you guided her to the table, the music still playing in the background.

It looked delicious and tasted even better once you had both settled on your chairs, napkins on your laps, forks digging in the eggs. Avis moaned loudly as she took the first bite, her eyes closed and her head lulled back, triggering an utterly indecent response in your body, your knickers pooling at the sight. How could everything this woman did be so positively sexy, no matter what it was, it was an entire research you were willing to perform yourself, no help needed. You imagined a drop of sauce falling right on top of her breast, your tongue aiming to please as you licked it off her skin, several times, to make sure she was perfectly clean, pushing the top of her dress down to reveal that she was indeed wearing nothing, a dream to think she could ever do that. Your thighs pressed together, shaking your head to try and vanish the image so could enjoy the food before Avis had it all. And the eggs were indeed delicious, the acidity of the sauce and the sharp flavour of the garlic mixing with the softness of the egg. By George, Teresa was an angel in the kitchen. In only a few minutes both plates were cleared, though you did not eat much, Avis’s moans were far too distracting, perhaps it was all a ploy so she could actually eat the whole thing while also working you up, killing two birds with one stone. Breaking your gaze from how she was now cleaning up around her mouth with her middle finger, you glanced at the clock. Only twenty minutes until midnight. This time it was Giuseppe who came in around five minutes later with the parmigiana, placing a tray with several bruschette in front of you along with a big ball of mozzarella dressed in olive oil and some basil and salt, giving you a kiss on top of your head. His deep voice spoke to Avis -Buon appetite- before bowing his head, slipping back into the kitchen. You picked up your drink, tasting the gin on your tongue with your eyes on her as she took in the food.

-How was the pastina, Avis? I think I only got to smell it.

-Ha ha, very funny. Do you want us to divide this meal?

-And miss hearing you enjoy them because I’m too busy eating? I don’t think so. Here, try this, I’m sure you have never had anything this good in your life.

The mozzarella dripped beautifully on the plate as you sliced it open, the cream inside the perfect consistency. Picking up a bruschetta from your plate, returning a fallen tomato to the top, you picked some of the mozzarella with a spoon, draping it over the bread before bending over the table with one hand under it to catch any crumbs. Avis bend slightly to meet you in the middle, opening her mouth and taking a bite, her eyes never leaving yours, her lips touching your fingers before she pulled away tasting your creation. The moan that she produced was loud and sensual, like the ones she had made when you had been in the car, her finger picking up a fallen drop of the cheese over her lips, licking the tip without breaking eye contact. The room was stifling now, her hand grabbing your wrist so she could take another bite of the bread, her tongue wrapping around your fingers to lick them clean. She sat back against her chair basking in the way she had you wrapped around her little finger without having done so much as to use her mouth, something that she was very good at judging by your reactions. Picking up your drink you downed it in one go needing to lubricate your throat, the cracked ice cooling your body a little, but only a little.

As much as she was enjoying tempting and driving you mad like this, she wanted you to eat, so she picked up some of the Parmigiana and placed it on your plate before serving herself. Taking her cue, you dived in, the aubergines perfectly cooked, the melted cheese making a beautiful pull as you took a bite, needing to use the fork to break the string. Her exquisite palate had tasted the best champagne, the most expensive caviars, imported meats, and exotic fruits and yet the meal presented to her tonight was the best of them all. It was homemade with love, with care, and maybe the products didn’t cost a fortune, but they were still good, perhaps grown by Giuseppe and his wife. Next time she had to plan a lunch date with Ellen, she would bring her here. You ate calmly, engaging Avis in conversation every so often though the silence that sometimes filled the room was never deafening nor uncomfortable, the music still playing in the background. With the table now filled with empty plates and both your stomachs satisfied there was nothing else to do but wait; only five minutes left until midnight.

-So, what was wrong with Ellen? We got caught up and I never really asked.

-It was pure miscommunication. – she brought the martini to her lips, leaving a red mark on the rim. - Ace usually hires extra security when we do parties at the house, so when I gave Dick the list of phone numbers, the company we usually use was there. Well, Dick did phone them, but they got confused and ended up not writing the address, so when the time came to send the guys down there was nowhere for them to go.

-And didn’t they call to ask where the party was?

-They say that they did but I’m not sure. Dick says that the phone hasn’t rang all afternoon. Anyway, I gave them the address and told them to get their asses over to Dick’s place immediately or we would go without their services in the future.

-But why was Ellen so distraught?

-Didn’t you see the bandage on Dick’s head? The woman was a minute away from needing an ambulance after the fight happened. It’s a miracle she didn’t call the police.  But everything’s alright now, I hope.

-If it isn’t they will have to fend for themselves, because I didn’t tell anyone where I was taking you.

-I’ll drink to that.

The rest of the martini went down her throat, the glass on the table just as Marco came back with an empty tray. Avis was the one to talk with him this time, telling him that the food was magnificent, to give her most sincere congratulations to the cooks as he picked up plates, staking them along with the empty glasses, a gentle blush on his cheeks as he thanked the woman. It wasn’t as if Avis had any trouble communicating with people, her charisma and outgoing personality helped her in that department, but it warmed your heart to see that she was trying her best to connect with your adopted family. None of the boyfriends or girlfriends you had brought here had even bothered to talk with them, probably one of the main reasons you had sent them packing. You didn’t even get the chance to open your mouth though before Giuseppe burst in with a bottle of champagne, two glasses, and two bowls. He was talking a mile a minute, mixing Italian and English in a gibberish that neither of you understood, but he was excited and didn’t care, a short woman with deep emerald eyes and dark hair popping her head through the doors calling for him. She blew you a kiss before pulling her husband out the door, Avis observing with an amused expression how you laughed as you said hi to Teresa. She understood the reason behind the champagne, but she missed why there were two bowls of grapes on the table.

-Y/N, honey, what’s with the grapes? I thought the usual Italian dessert was tiramisu.

-It is, one of many, anyway. No, the grapes are a tradition from my home. – she sat a little bit straighter on the chair, resting her head on her hand while listening intensely to your explanation, her big eyes taking in every word that left your lips. – In the last twelve seconds of the years you are supposed to eat twelve grapes.

-Isn’t that a bit of a choking hazard?

-Yes, but it’s much more fun than it sounds. Eating them all before the New Year arrives its supposed to bring good luck, but now it’s more of a fun game. You just look around and see who’s laughing even before they’ve started eating, who goes hysterical with a mouthful of them, who’s like in a corner eating them without a single emotion in their system, you know, just have fun with your friends and family eating twelve grapes. Some people are pros and finish the bowl way before the twelve seconds are over and then there’s the people who watch that laugh after the New Year has arrived.

-I had never heard of such a thing. I’ve been to so many places and I’ve never bothered with anything that wasn’t boutiques or fancy restaurants. We really do have our heads up in our own asses, don’t we?

-I wouldn’t say that. You are a woman of the world, but I don’t expect you to know everything about every single place you’ve been to, and I know there’s so much I don’t know about your home, Avis but you don’t punish me for it. There’s plenty of time to learn. What I do hope is that you’ll share this tradition with me. I promise the grapes are small.

-Anything for you, honey. And if I do choke, I’ll have you to resuscitate me. Come over here, let me see if you know how to do mouth-to-mouth.

Who were you to deny her proof? Standing from your chair you rounded the table until your body was towering over hers, bending so that your hands were resting on the chair, your mouth inches from hers. Finally, she rose a little from her seat to meet your lips, relief washing over your body like a wave, allowing you to relax in her grip as her hands rested on your hips, drawing you to sit on her lap. Upon feeling her teeth nibbling on your lower lip you opened your mouth, granting her the access she desired. Both tongues battled against each other, yours more lazily than hers, after all, she was the one who thrived in having control over you. Slipping from the top of the chair your hands threaded in between her soft locks, pulling gently. She groaned in your mouth, the grip on your hips harder, pushing you closer to her. Parting after a moment, lungs screaming for air, you heard the commotion outside the room growing bigger, Avis’s eyes looking at the clock over your shoulder. A minute she whispered in your ear. Plenty of time for you to share another kiss you thought, drawing her face back to yours for a few more seconds, tracing her lips with your tongue, removing what little she had left of her carmine.

Not moving from your spot in her lap after breaking the kiss you handed her a bowl before picking up yours, eyes glued to the clock. Thirty seconds. Your heart was racing in your chest with excitement, just like when you had been a kid, waiting with trembling fingers. Twenty seconds. Avis could not help the smile that painted her swollen lips at your enthusiasm, watching as you did a quiet countdown. Fifteen seconds. You picked up the first grape, motioning for Avis to do the same. Fourteen, thirteen, twelve! You popped the first one in, then another, and another, all while chewing as fast as your jaw would allow, eyes focused on the bowl otherwise you would start laughing. Four more grapes went down the gullet but there were still a few seconds left; you could make it. Another one in, and another one and you were practically swallowing them whole, but you were almost there, just three grapes left. Just when you had finished chewing and swallowing the last one the clock struck twelve, howls filling the air around you. With the brightest smile in the world, you tilted your bowl to show Avis only to be made a fool when she showed you hers, lifting the hand that had been on your hip with four fingers stretched.

-Avis! Four seconds to spare?!

-What can I say, I’m a pro.

-Next time I’ll get the big ones.

-And you think I haven’t had anything bigger in my mouth? – God, she really knew what to say to turn you on even further, the fire that had been growing steadily all night practically blazing. - Now my turn for a tradition, American style. -Her lips crashed against yours, her hand on your back pressing you impossibly close to her body. The kiss was bruising but oh so erotic and delightful and you never wanted it to end, but there was a toast still waiting and in that joyous moment when everything was perfect you wondered what she would taste like after having had a glass of champagne.  After a few instants Avis broke the kiss, panting slightly. – Happy New Year Y/N.

-Happy New Year, Avis.

Hurriedly you stood from her lap, pulling her to her feet as you picked up the bottle Giuseppe had left, rubbing the cork before turning to look away from her, a loud pop reverberating along with the record player that was still working, foam and the sparkling liquid pouring out onto the floor due to the pressure of the gas. Avis had both glasses in her hand waiting for you to pour the drinks, watching the foam fill it up and spill slightly, handing you your glass once you had returned the bottle back to the table. Crystals clinked, bringing it up to taste the delicious liquid on your tongue, bubbling up your nose and down your throat. Now was the moment. Once Avis had swallowed her sip you grabbed her by the neck and pulled her down for another kiss, a surprised yelp that soon turned into a quiet moan muffled by your lips as you pushed your tongue inside her mouth without a fight. She was utterly delicious after drinking champagne. The spell was broken by the sound of fireworks, a gleeful look on Avis’s face as she broke the kiss, pulling you out of the room and into the street, the glasses still in your hands. It was beautiful. The night sky was filled with colourful forms and sparkly rainbows, flying over everyone’s heads every second. Both your gazes were glued to the firmament up above, but that did not stop you from taking her hand in yours, fingers interviewed as the sky filled up with golden glows. Nothing had ever been more perfect, nothing would ever be more special, her eyes travelling down to yours watching in the reflection the blue glittery traces that crossed the sky. She had waited enough, and dessert was due. She moved her head to the crook of your neck, her lungs filling up with the gentle traces of your floral perfume, whispering in your ear for only you to hear.

-Take me home and make me feel like a thousand stars. Fill my life with fireworks Y/N.

Her tone sounded almost as if she was pleading, a pang of sadness stabbing your heart, watching how her eyes were filled with both an imperious need for you and a softness that spoke to you in so many levels. Walking backwards into the restaurant, the sky still painted by the colourful display, you did not have to use any kind of force to guide her back to the private booth, the restaurant empty as everyone was out on the street. The record had ended by then, the only sound inside the room being the needle as it scratched over the vinyl, but that was superfluous to you, every ounce of your attention was on Avis. She took on last sip of her champagne, leaving it on the table next to yours, her stole draped over her shoulder and her purse in her empty hand. Your eyes were locked never wanting to break contact, never wanting to stray. You wished to lift her in your arms and leave everything behind, take her to the ends of the world and love her for all eternity, but life was nothing like one’s dreams and yet this moment felt just like one. You pulled out a fifty and left it on the table, thinking that you would not get to see Giuseppe or any of the others before leaving, but just as you were crossing the main dining room Teresa called your name. You turned, but the woman did not ask you to join them for drinks or to wait a bit longer before leaving, she simply approached you, kissed you on the cheek and wished you and Avis a happy New Year, handing the older woman a brown package. There was something in the way Teresa was looking at the two of you that made you think that perhaps it wasn’t so bad to take that leap of faith you had been so scared of, that it was worth taking this risk, to fall in love at last.

You promised to visit soon, telling her that the dinner was marvellous, like always and that it was paid before blowing her a kiss as you still pulled Avis out the door. Getting to the car was no effort, it was as if fate was guiding your every action and aiding you in reaching the final goal, slipping into the drivers sit. People were all around you, but you needed her to know that her every wish was your command and so you twisted your body to meet her lips, a hand resting on her cheek. She melted under your touch, under your kiss, feeling every emotion that you had promised to tell her passing from your lips to hers. She felt renewed with energy, love and lust and everything in between bursting from every pore of her body, not wanting to separate from you, but it had to happen, your body returning to its original position before you turned the engine on. You had considered for an instant taking her to your place, but you had left things everywhere and you did not want to have to tidy up before taking her to your bed, not unless you wanted her to grow cold on you, so you swerved into a side street and drove back to her place. She was confused at first, but upon seeing the determination that had glazed over your eyes, she sat back and relaxed letting you do what you had to do. The gates were closed but not locked, upon Avis’s order, but with a gentle jab from the hood of your car they shrieked and opened, not a soul in sight as you parked right next to Avis’s black Cadillac.

It felt quite familiar to step out of the car and meet over the stone path that led to her front door, but everything about this time was different. There was no hurry, no element of surprise that could interrupt and end it all, it was just you and Avis under the front porch, her hand in yours. The cold air of the night was raising goosebumps on your skin, a shiver shaking your frame, but you did not falter in your stand, taking her hand and placing it on your cheek, kissing her palm. Had this been twenty years ago Avis would have stood under the tiny porch light kissing you before you had to turn and leave her behind, thinking about how she would have had to go to bed alone in that big empty dark house, but it wasn’t the 20s and it wasn’t a random scenario in her head. She could kiss you still under the tiny porch light, gentle nibbles and pecks making her melt against your body, her hands snaking round your neck to keep you in place. She could moan in your mouth as your hands travelled from the shape of her waist down to her hips and then her firm ass to pull her closer to you. And after the kisses ended and you were left standing there panting and incensed, you wouldn’t have to go away, she opened those big doors and pulled you inside. The house was warm and quiet and so very dark, only a few rays on moonlight breaking through closed curtains. Avis knew her home like the back of her hand and she guided you slowly to the staircase, walking upstairs with her hand in yours.

She stopped in the middle of it though when she felt your hands around her waist. She trusted you to not let her fall as she let her weight press against your chest, your head in the crook of her neck. She smelled delicious and you could not help it, you run your tongue the length of her neck up until you meet her ear, kissing the spot behind, your teeth gracing her earlobe. With one hand on the railing for support the other went to the back of your head feeling the curls and pins under her palm, a quiet moan echoing in the dark room as you pulled gently on her ear. She tasted divine, that saltiness that was so her mixing with the champagne from your drink. Her eyes were closed taking in every sensation that you were giving her as your hands teased her breasts through the silk, finger on the hem of the neckline. The way every single peck and caress set her alight was beyond her comprehension, her heartbeats a little bit elevated against her ribcage, her knickers getting wetter by the minute, but there was no rush, she could take far more than what you were giving her; she wanted to burn in your arms. She moved her head to the side, scratching her nails on your scalp, to grant you a better access, a gasp falling from her lips when she felt you tongue licking down her neck and the junction with the shoulder, following the same path back up until your lips curled and sucked on her pulse point.

Her hips buckled to meet yours, her round firm ass pressed against your pelvis, earning a grunt that became muffled by her skin. As much as you were both loving this there was a growing need to reach the bedroom, so much to your dismay Avis pulled herself from your grip, not before turning and taking both your hands. Walking backwards was hard but walking up the stairs all while in the dark was ever more difficult and yet Avis pulled it off beautifully, reaching the landing without tripping not even once. Her eyes had never left yours even if among the shadows there was very little chance of her seeing just how dilated your pupils were, how they were burning with a fire that only she could put out.  The door to her bedroom was just there, not more than three feet from you, but it felt as if you had gone without feeling her for far too long and so you pressed her against the wall, claiming her lips in a bruising kiss. You sucked on her lower lip never growing tired of hearing the way her throat vibrated and her body shook ever so slightly as moans travelled through her open mouth for to swallow, chest pressed against chest, your right hand grabbing and pulling her leg upwards, free from her gown. The lacy hem of her stockings was an obstacle for you, that delectable skin of hers hidden underneath but that did not stop you from fingering the clip that kept it in place before grabbing the back of her thigh to grind against her pelvis. Her response was a curse, the fabric of her knickers drenched in between her legs, but you did not let up, watching as her head lulled back against the wall, her entire frame bobbing up and down as you moved.

She wanted you, needed you to fill her up, to touch her and eat her and love her and make her scream so loud she wouldn’t be able to speak for three days, but the movements that you were doing were just not fully cutting it for her, as sublime as they were. This time though she did not have to push you away, you lifted her off the floor, her legs wrapping around your waist as her arms did the same around your neck, giving a surprised yelp. She had not considered that you could be so strong, carrying her through the threshold of her bedroom, your foot closing the door, her lips pecking every inch of skin she could find around your face, avoiding your lips should she make you lose your grip on her. Your brain was telling you to throw her on the bed and take her, no time to remove clothes, but you let your heart guide you on this, gently placing her over the covers, pecking her lips before stepping back. All the air in your lung vanished as you took in the scene before you. The curtains weren’t drawn letting the silvery beams of moonlight bathe the woman before you with its pearly glows, her olive kissed skin seeming like porcelain under its touch, every freckle, wrinkle and beauty mark glowing like beacons that were calling you home. Her dark fiery locks were untamed, dishevelled from where you had threaded your fingers, framing her as they cascaded over her shoulders and down her back, her lips swollen and so very enticing even without her signature lipstick. That glamorous gown she was wearing had moved slightly around her body, glowing like pure platinum as the top of a black corselette peeked from under the neckline, her breasts practically spilling, bouncing with her rapid breaths. Her body, propped up on her elbows, was spread before you since the skirt of her dress had fallen to the sides, leaving her legs right there for you to feast on and oh Lord, were you going to. But there was another idea in your head that you wanted to do for her before you could satisfy your own needs.

In a slow twirl your back was presented to her, a hand grabbing onto the zipper of your dress, painstakingly pulling it down to let your underwear begin to seep through the garment. You could hear Avis’s breaths picking up at the way you swayed your hips to shimmy out of it, feeling the velvet brush your legs as it flowed to the floor. With graceful movements you stepped out of it, bending so that your ass was in perfect view for Avis, turning your head to look at her while picking up the dress from the floor. She groaned at the sight of your body, her mind racing as her mouth turned dry before it began to water, hypnotised by every little movement you made, from bending to standing back up after leaving your dress over the chair of her vanity. Her heart began to race with each step you took towards her, spreading her legs even further to accommodate you, your body bending over hers, face inches from hers. She rose to kiss you, but you were quick and pulled back, a naughty smirk on your lips when your fingers began to trace her jawline, neck, chest and swells of her breasts, your mouth following the same path though your fingers could not help exploring the skin underneath her corselette. She was plump and soft, and you had buried your head in between her tits many times before but could not get enough of them, feeling her stiff peak with your fingertips. Her noises were positively sublime, deep and rambling in her chest before they made their way out of her mouth in quiet gasps. You moved close to her ear, whispering huskily.

-I believe, my dear lady, that you are overdressed.

The fabric was so smooth under your palms, so undoing the knot on the side as well as the button next to her breasts was like slicing butter, pushing the gown open to free her gorgeous body. And God, what a body it was. It was maddening to have her like this right under your lips, tracing every wrinkle and crease her skin made, and you just simply could not get enough. The fireworks of Sunset Boulevard had ended some time ago, but now there was the booming sound again, in the background, lighting up the room with a soft golden glow. It did not stop you from sucking on her now exposed collarbone, scraping the skin hard, a hissing sound reaching your ears, but Avis prevented you from lifting your head by pressing a hand on your neck, her body falling onto the soft covers. A gentle lick of your tongue soothed the sting, sloppy kisses travelling down to her breasts but there wasn’t enough flesh before your eyes, fingers working on the first hook of the corselette. Her breasts bounced to free themselves and yet you did not continue, simply licked the valley in between them. How exquisite were her moans, echoing off the walls with each suck, leaving bruising marks behind that you knew her husband might find out about, but that didn’t stop you, wouldn’t stop you. If he could not appreciate the woman he was married to, you would take on such a task. Perhaps the sight of the marks would help make Avis understand that she didn’t have to settle for less than what she thought she deserved, which was everything.

Her breaths were so rapid that upon arching her back at the hand of your ministrations another hook came undone without anyone touching the garment, her breasts spilling out of the black lace freeing her pinkish nipples that were hard as rocks already. Hmmmm, your favourite appetizer at last had arrived. Kissing the ample left breast, you trailed down towards the stiff pick, taking it hungrily in your mouth, lapping up and down, twirling it around and around and around, basking in the high-pitched moans that Avis made when you scrapped the tip with your teeth, hips bucking upwards into your own pelvis. It drew out a groan from you, her pubic bone having brushed expertly, but without her actually knowing, against your clit. She knew the effects she had on you, but she had not expected such a reaction from simply sucking her tits, a naughty smirk on her lips as her eyes ogled your mouth with her nipple deep inside it. There was a whine in the air when you popped it out of your mouth, but how could you not give her right breast the same treatment when it was looking at you so readily. Deliciously it fitted in your mouth as if it was meant to be there, sucking so hard you were making Avis scream in hurried pants, her nails digging onto your scalp.

One hand kept your weight off her body but that didn’t mean you could not do several other things with the other, your nails leaving red trails over her inner thigh, massaging the soft flesh to sooth it before repeating the motion. Her legs twitched, trying to close around your frame out of seer instinct, a whimper slipping from her parted lips. It was tempting to tease her until she could not take it anymore, but tonight the plan wasn’t to see up until where the boundaries would collapse, it was to love her and care for her. Your index finger brushed over the lace of her knickers, Avis’s lower lip in between her teeth, feeling not just how wet she was; her underwear was absolutely ruined and drenched and you only wished to take it off and have your main course. It was a herculean effort to pull back, her nipple being released from your mouth in a quiet pop, but she was still quite overdressed in your most humble opinion. On your knees now, you took off her shoes, putting them on the side, massaging the tension on her arches and her ankles, settling on her left leg while carrying on with her calf, the back of her knee and then her thigh. Expert finger undid the clip pushing it out of the way, the silk stocking coming off her leg with your teeth, Avis’s eyes simply blown wide at the sight, the exact same actions taking place on her right leg instants after. Instead of climbing back on top of her though you placed her legs over your shoulders taking your sweet time to kiss trails from her ankles up to her inner thighs, back down and then back up again. She was going to go insane, of that she was certain, every single one of your kisses leaving fire on her skin, but she just could not stop you, she needed every ounce of attention you were giving her, your fingers digging over her thighs as you inched closer and closer to her centre. Just when your kisses had reached the side of her knickers did you move to her other side, sucking and biting hard, drawing out moans and whimpers all while Avis still laid on her back, her hands holding onto the bed covers. Without warning and without care you gave her one strong long lick over the lace, her salty juices on your tongue making you groan against her.

-Fuck!

Her hips buckled against your face trying desperately to get more friction, anything. You knew she needed you, but you were not going to take her like this, you wanted her to have the connection of skin to skin; raising from your knees you bent back over her body. Your hands finished unhooking the corselette, pulling it from under her and throwing it across the room. There were a few red marks left from the garment over her abdomen, and you were sure they probably bothered her, so after kissing her neck, sucking hard on her pulse point, you went all the way down to her sternum and even further, licking each red line making sure to peck the skin once you were contented with the way your saliva glistened under the moonlight, your fingers following the paths of her stretch marks with such a gentle touch you were raising goosebumps over her skin. They trailed down until your fingertips came in contact with the waistband of her knickers, removing them inch by inch all the way down her legs until she was utterly naked before you. The platinum beams that burst through the windows wrapped around her body, enticing, the fire that was burning within you mixing with the absolute adoration you felt for Avis. Her breasts were perky, rising and falling rapidly, her eyes staring hungrily at you. It just wasn’t fair, she thought, she was like a renaissance painting, naked before you with her hair down, dripping for you, and yet you were just standing there, hidden from her eyes. She had to do something about it.

With cat like grace Avis pulled herself off the bed, walking barefoot until she was right in front of you. Her hands ached to be rough, to play with you until you broke in between her fingers and then put you back together, but your eyes were looking at her with such a caring loving glow that she could not bring herself to do it. She put her hands on your shoulder and turned you until your back was pressed against her front, both your figures reflected on a tall mirror that you had not noticed before. Had she got it so she could dress herself for you? She did not give you time to think, her fingers trailing down from your shoulders over to your breasts, squeezing and kneading the flesh under your own corselette. She was delighted that you had dressed like that, not that seeing you in those see-through brassieres was something she would ever complain about, but there was just something so utterly erotic about this outfit that drove her wild. One hook came off, your breasts one step closer to freedom, her lips kissing softly the skin of your shoulder, one hand travelling underneath the black lace that cupped your breasts, the other one pulling on your hair until she had the access to you neck she desired. Your sweet skin was delicious under her tongue, and the bruises that had painted your skin not that long ago were nowhere to be found, so in that spot she decided she had to make sure those marks that had painted your entire body returned. Her teeth bit down on your neck, a yelp mixing with a moan reverberating inside the room, her tongue southing the sting before moving a little bit further down to do the same. The hand that was under you corselette was kneading on your left breast, her thumb brushing on your perky nipple. She was a pro, you knew, so it wasn’t a surprise when she pulled her hand out and with only two fingers did she undo a second hook. The garment was becoming loser around your frame, slipping down a bit more until your breasts were free, Avis’s eyes eyeing them with such desire that your utterly flooding underwear welcomed a brand-new wave of arousal.

-My very good girl is the one overdressed now, don’t you think?

You nodded at her words, her index finger following the line of your cheek down to your neck until she was painting lazy patterns over your left breast, her tongue licking the shell of your ear, biting and pulling on your earlobe. Her thumb passed over your nipple, the hand on your hair letting go to play with your right breast, the motions so tempting, so sultry that made your hips press against her pelvis just like Avis had done with you on the staircase. She played and twirled your nipples in between her fingers, pinching hard, your hands grabbing her naked hips to steady your legs, your throat slightly raw from how she was making you moan. Soon she grew restless of her own actions, unclasping each hook slowly to let your creamy skin come to light until it laid open in her hands. She could not let her eyes stop looking at every single detail of your skin, her hot breath drawing goosebumps, your stiff nipples getting even harder. The corselette fell to the floor, the weight of it pulling your stocking down with it, leaving you with all the fabric bunched up around your ankles. You were going to bend to remove them when a hand right in between your breasts stopped you, pressed you naked back against her naked chest feeling every inch of her ample tits. It was Avis who kneeled this time, the hand that had stopped you before resting right above your knickers now, her legs slightly open, lifting your leg and removing your shoe, pushing it aside, pulling the nylon stocking off.

She was spread for you to see in the mirror, those pink folds glistening in the gentle light of the moon, your arousal through the roof wishing you were already in between her legs. She was not done though; she lifted your other leg removing the stiletto and pulling the stocking off. The offending bundle of garments was thrown across the room, forgotten already as her eyes went for the next step. Her fingers were running up and down your thighs at a teasing pace, kissing the back of your legs, moving over your hamstring until her lips made contact with the skin of your ass, biting down, sucking hard. A gasp left your lips, the feeling utterly salacious and carnal, her fingers kneading the flesh, treading underneath the fabric of your underwear. No one except Avis had ever played with your ass before, this was her thing the same way that playing with her tits was yours. They stopped their motion after a moment, following the shape of your hips until the met at your pubic bone, grabbing and yanking your knickers down your legs. They rested around your knees, her hands busy parting your legs so she could feel just how much you really wanted her, humming in approval when her fingers touched your folds, coating them with your juices. The underwear fell on its own, pooling at your feet as Avis rose to look at you through the mirror, eyes following her hand, watching her lick her fingers clean, groaning at your salty essence.

Turning around to face her you stopped her movement, pulling her hand out of her mouth and taking it inside yours instead. She had not cleaned herself completely yet, the state of her saliva and your arousal the perfect mix around her fingers, tongue twirling and sucking. Fuck being gentle, fuck waiting. You pulled her fingers out with a pop and yanked her arm towards you to capture her mouth once again, your hand on her bare ass cheek kneading and spanking the bouncy flesh, her leg wrapping around your thigh and calf. Kissing her was always an experience but doing it fully naked was just beyond arousing, your need to bite and lick and suck making you draw a little bit of blood from her lower lip, the metallic taste intoxicating, your hands grabbing her other ass fully and lifting her in the air, the bruising kiss never breaking, her hands on the back of your head pulling hairpins out and letting them fall on the floor. You would worry about picking them up in the morning.

You placed her back on the bed, crawling on top of the covers but she broke from your embrace to pull them off the mattress and onto the floor, leaving the Egyptian cotton bedsheets free for her to lay upon. Her hair was fanned out on her pillow as her eyes raked over your body, sitting on your knees, waiting, like the good girl you were. There was a painting that came to mind as you took her in, watching her move one hand to rest above her head, fingers brushing the headboard while the other motioned for you to crawl over to her, a beautiful masterpiece from the 1800s that had transcended time into the 1940s, and space, to lay on this bed. You could not recall where it was displayed, but at the end of the day it was just that, a work on a canvas that you could not touch. The woman before you was real though, solid and positively divine with the way each curve of her soft flesh seemed to have been carved by the hands of angels, her eyes the doors to the Heavens, her lips the gates to Hell. There was no corner of her body that you would not paint, no freckle that you would not kiss and if her body was a forest, you would gladly get lost in it for all eternity. Avis looked like a Venus, like a goddess that you would pray to every day and night and she deserved to be painted and displayed just as much as those priceless works of art, even if there was a part of you that only wanted to keep her to yourself, like a secret that no one could see except for you, every spot in her body only for you to kiss and taste, her sounds only for you to hear. You crawled on top of her, taking her hand to kiss her finger before placing it above her head next to the other, lowering your mouth to peck her gently. The road that your lips travelled was well known to you, every curve and hill memorised; her collarbone, the hollow of her neck, her maddening breasts that you could not help but kiss one more time, and in between every stretch mark in her abdomen and upper thighs.

Her legs parted, granting you access to that part of her body that you desired the most, bending until your chest was practically resting over the mattress, ass up in the air, kissing and licking the soft skin of her inner thighs. There were still a few remnants of the bruises you had inflicted upon her that first night, but there was still plenty of untouched flesh for you to paint. She moaned when she felt you suck, knowing that in the morning her body could be covered in hickeys, not that she cared, not anymore, her back arching off the bed a little, hips moving almost as if they were trying to tempt you. She needed to be patient, just for a bit longer you thought, still giving your full attention to the bruise that was already forming, licking to sooth it before turning to her other thigh, sucking and biting, a hiss mixing with her loud moans. She was always so very vocal, which you adored, and when you came face to face with her dripping folds you couldn’t help but smile. Dinner was served. You preferred something sweet as dessert, but the saltiness of Avis’s juices was the perfect cherry on top of a wonderful night, your tongue lapping the whole length of her cunt with one long swipe. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head at the feeling of your mouth on her, hips moving against your face.

-God, fuck, Y/N.

The moans that were breaking from her parted lips filled your head, loud and sensual, because how could Avis make any sound that wasn’t absolutely indecent and salacious, your own juices coating the top of your inner thighs. Your nose brushed gently against her clit, a hand shooting to keep you in place as a scream slid out her throat, her nails digging into your scalp, but your movement never stopped, her pleasure building higher and higher. She had had your tongue on her before, and had adored every second of it, but the things you were doing to her this time, the soft licks, nudging her swollen bud prolonging it all, driving her insane with such a caring touch, oh God, it was something else. Every touch sent her a message that she mattered to you, that her pleasure was your main goal, to see her unravelling before your eyes, to drink in her relaxed and satisfied body as if she could be the last thing your eyes ever saw. It made the way your tongue moved a thousand times more powerful, the coil in her lower abdomen burning bright, threatening to set her on fire. With one hand you opened up her folds to grant your tongue access to her entrance, darting in and out slowly at first. The grip on your hair never lessened and the way her hips were moving told you that she needed more, so you gave it to her without a second thought taking her clit in your mouth, sucking so hard that her back arched off the bed, the hand that had been resting and toying with the fabric of her pillowcase, holding hard onto the headboard.

You had never wished you had been born with a cock before, but the sight of her as you gave her one long lick before sitting back on your knees, her dark eyes watching you confused wondering why you had stopped, made you long for one to pound deep into her, to fill her up and feel every inch of her insides around you, warm and velvety. The best you could do was to move your fingers up and down, her head falling back over her pillow, coating them in her juices before plunging them in. She screamed at the feeling of her cunt stretching to accommodate you as you travelled in kisses back up her body, taking her nipples in your mouth. They were your weakness, an imperious need to always play with them forcing you to twirl them and suck hard. Slowly you pulled your hand back giving her a moment before pushing back in, hard, curling to touch that sweet spot with your fingertips, another scream escaping her open mouth, your lips kissing the skin under her ribcage. The taste of her skin along with that of her juices was intoxicating, driving you to move your hand faster and harder against her as your mouth trailed and bit at her collarbones and her neck finally reaching her lips, drawing her into a deep kiss that made Avis’s already fuzzy head grow dizzy. There were so many sensations that she just couldn’t focus, both her legs bending over your hips, the heels of her feet digging onto your lower back. In this new position you could push your hand harder into her by using the power of your pelvis, thrusting once to see if it was any good.

-FUCK! YES! YES!

If it had been Summer the entire neighbourhood would have been able to hear her screams, but with the windows closed her words and sounds were for your ears only. Your hips thrust against your hand once more, her hips moving downwards to meet you, her head thrown back against the pillow as a thin layer of sweat begun to cover her body, your greedy tongue licking if off the side of her neck before biting and sucking hard, leaving a most wonderous hickey right where everyone would be able to see, but Avis was too lost to notice. With each movement of your hips her body bobbed up and down on the mattress, her gorgeous and ample tits swaying with the sinful motions, her moans higher and higher in pitch as she felt her orgasm building, nearly reaching the delicious peak she desired. There was no warning, just you adding another finger, practically slamming your hips against her pelvis, the rhythm you had previously had a bit more erratic, losing yourself in the way she was screaming in your ear, clenching around your fingers so hard, her skin so delicious in your mouth. Your hand would be useless for a day or two with the way you were pushing it knuckle deep inside her, slamming it against her pubic bone, but it was a prize you were willing to pay. With your thumb you circled her clit, playing a game of pressure that could send her over the edge any minute and yet it seemed as if there was something preventing her from doing so. Your mouth kissed behind her ear, licking its shell before you whispered.

-Come for me Avis, see the stars that you begged me to show you.

A shiver run all over her body, like a wave, before the coil in her lower abdomen exploded, an intense white fire spreading through every limb, her back arching of the bed as your name left her lips in a loud scream, her legs trembling and shaking all while the grip on your hair pulled painfully and the heels of her feet dug against your lower back. But there was no real pain, nothing truly hurt, her pleasure the only thing that mattered to you as her hips slammed onto yours, your hand in between them, as she rode out her orgasm. Her vision was blurred, white stars dancing through them, her eyes rolling back with each wave and twitch that coursed through her spasming walls.

-Y/N! YES! YES! YES! GOD, I LOVE YOU!  

Every cell in your body froze for an instant, her body collapsing on the mattress her chest rising and falling in hurried loud pants, arms like jelly as they let go of your hair and the headboard, her legs unwrapping from around your back, though you did not move, hands caressing the skin of her thighs to bring her gently down. Part of you wanted those words to be real, to believe her even if she had spoken them in the throws of passion, but the other half believed they were just that, words, no real meaning behind them, a turmoil of confused thoughts rushing through your mind. Until her eyes opened behind heavy lids and everything turned quiet. Her eyes were so very deep and beautiful, expressing everything so clearly that to you there was no doubt that she had meant it. Her shaky hand caressed your cheek, your body having not moved from being on top of hers, that bright smile shinning all over the room but right now only for your eyes to see. In that sweet afterglow that always left her so very relaxed, so raw with her emotions and realizations, did she allow herself to acknowledge what she felt because this had been the last step she had needed to see that what you two had went beyond mere care and lust. Her heart had been alone in a dark room for years but then you came, with an entire array of Christmas lights and chandeliers and filled it all with light, your heart sitting beside hers, never letting it go from your embrace. This is what love was supposed to feel like, and she would never ever let it slip through her fingers. She brought you down for a kiss, a gentle pressing of lips, and even if it was the simplest one you two had shared, it was the best of them. Upon parting you laid beside her, your head sharing her big pillow.

-Avis.

-Don’t overthink it Y/N. I said what I said, and you know me; I don’t take words back.

-But there’s so much you don’t know about me.

-I don’t care. – in between her thumb and index finger she twirled and played with a lock of your hair, her gaze never parting from yours. They were filled with love, shinning like never before, making you lose yourself in their depth, her warmth wrapping around you like a blanket. It made your chest burst with happiness. -You could be a Russian spy, and I would still love you. You make me feel like a human being and trust me, that’s fucking fantastic; you give my life a purpose, a brand-new perspective. Life is so full of possibilities now that you are here, with me, so many adventures that had never crossed my mind before. All the money, jewels and mink coats that I own could never compare to you making me feel like I’m someone, like I matter.

-It’s so easy to be around you, to care.

-Even though I’m a very faulted woman?

-Everyone is, you just know how to cope with it. You are temperamental but also passionate, you don’t apologise but you make it up to people, you have sat in the back letting others take your spotlight, and it doesn’t seem fair, Avis. I want to give you that, I want you to be up on stage and reclaim it; let everyone adore you. The world is yours and you must walk like you own it.

-I could have sworn I already did that. – her lips pecked your cheeks and jaw bit never pushed further than that, she knew you both needed to talk this out. You felt her teasing smile against your skin.

-Indeed, but what I mean is that you must stop letting Ace treat you like this. Break free from him and his lies and be yourself and if he doesn’t like it, he can go and fuck himself. You have a beautiful soul; you can’t let him crush it and turn you into a bitter woman.      

-I wanted him to love me, to care for Claire, but its as if I’m just an addition to his life, like an object. We’ve been through this shit so many times, but he never changes. – the hurt run deep, her eyes glancing down to your necklace that she had not removed, toying with the metal chain to keep her eyes from locking with yours. That man had broken her so much and so many times, and you could see why she would practically throw herself at the first person that showed her a bit of love and affection. She was emotionally starved. - I had spent so long wanting to be his wife so when I realised that I wasn’t wanted and that I never will be, my eyes finally opened, and I saw the truth. I had confused my wishes, my dreams, for the real thing and seeing that… - she had to stop for a moment, tears threatening to fall, her words choking her up with the overwhelming feelings of shame and sadness. You hated seeing her like this, hiding herself and her pain from you, so your finger moved under her chin forcing her to look up, watching as those crystal drops ran down her cheeks and towards the tip of her nose. Her voice wavered but she still carried on needing to let it all out. - that I had been tricked by life, well, it hurt. It took time to see that this marriage was never going to work, we don’t care enough about each other to bother fixing it. Should you fix something that has been broken since day one?

-No, you shouldn’t. You must let it wither and die, Avis, as much as it may hurt at first. You don’t need him. I will be your husband, your wife, your partner, your friend, your therapist and your doctor. I will hold you and wipe your tears, - your thumbs slid over her cheeks capturing the drops, kissing the soft, warm flesh and removing the saltiness off her nose. The grip she had on your forearms now was bruising, like she was grounding herself on your skin. - laugh at your jokes and tell you everyday of my life that there is not a soul in this world, in this universe, that… I love more than yours.

-You… love me? – her voice held a note of doubt, as if she had heard those words before dressed in deceit, but there was such a deep hope in those glistening eyes that elated you, your face inches from hers, foreheads touching.

-Since the very first time I saw you. All that we’ve shared has only made my feelings stronger, and I’m sure of them. Learning about you, finding out all the little things that no one has bothered to listen to, like you not liking mustard, or that you love going on walks down at the beach when the sun has already set, when the night hides you from prying eyes and you can let your mask fall, simply brings me joy. You are such a wonderful woman, and you have lived things that I could have never even imagined, and I want to know it all. Every single second of your life.

-Please Y/N, tell me what you promised me. What’s the meaning?

-That’s simple. You. – her breath hitched in her lungs, the biggest most sincere smile painting her lips as a brand-new batch of tears fell down her cheeks. This time you let them fall as they held a completely different air around them, a voice in the back of your mind telling you that you had to let Avis guide you on this. With your left hand you pushed her hair back, caressing her cheek with your fingers while rubbing gently on her jaw with your thumb. -People have come and gone in my life and I have learnt good and bad things from them, but they all shared the same trait. They took and took and took so when I was ready to receive, they would go. You take Avis, but you also give so much in return. I have never met anyone who could care this much, who could give like this. It doesn’t matter if it’s a car, or flowers, the things that mean the most to me are the ones that no one would consider, like a bag of food with a note reminding me to eat or you taking the time to talk with Giuseppe and his family. You listen when I speak and remember the tiny little details that no one had bothered with before, like your new shampoo that smells like home. That’s the meaning of happy, simply you.

You tasted the salt of her tears as she pressed her lips to yours, her body pushing you to your back over the cotton bedsheets. With Avis now on top you could stare unabashedly up at her wonderous body, and yet your eyes could only look at hers, pupils blow wide again, lust overtaking all the sadness she had felt, but never the love and joy you had caused to bloom in her chest. The conversation was over, the time for words had passed, but she still bent until her mouth was resting over yours, brushing, tempting, whispering one final question.

-What do you want Y/N?

-Make love to me, Avis.

She could most certainly fulfil such a lovely request, her lips pressing, lingering over yours, the kiss deepening after a few moments of her simply pecking, her legs straddling you with your hands on her hips painting lazy patterns. Biting down on your lower lip she was granted access, her tongue tracing your teeth, sucking and pulling, battling your tongue, earning a groan of pleasure from deep within your throat. Her kisses went down your chin towards your neck. She already knew all the sweet spots that drove you crazy, licking, gracing the soft skin with her teeth until she left you trembling and whimpering, moving on to your pulse point. She was a pro, sucking down hard until there was a bruise identical to the one you had given her, her tongue lapping over the mark to soothe it, although there was a throb in between your legs that she could not soothe, not yet. What a wonderful journey she was taking down your body, her sloppy kisses now in the valley of your breasts, her hands kneading at the plump flesh. You gasped at the feeling, your hips buckling lightly under the weight of her pelvis, Avis groaning when you touched her still sensitive cunt, wet once more. The way her hands played and teased your breasts was maddening, thumbs brushing your stiff nipples, her mouth playing with the sensitive skin around them before finally popping one of them in her mouth. The sigh that you gave quickly turned into moans as she twirled it and sucked, screaming in surprise when she bit down, your back arching, hands holding onto her hips harder all while pressing her down onto you, aching.

Her attention moved to your other nipple, brushing it with her thumb before taking it in her mouth, twirling and biting. The way she took you and played with you was just divine, her fiery lock brushing and tickling, enhancing the thousand emotions and sensations that were overtaking your body, but she still did not stop, although her mouth was now kissing down your abdomen, licking every little stretch mark that you possessed. When she had first seen her own, years ago, she had thought no one would ever want to see her naked ever again, but your body was beautiful, a work of art, and it was also painted with them, and you never recoiled from hers, only made her feel good about them. How could she ever think that they were not sexy when you had them, and she was crazy about you? Her body had moved lower on the bed, your legs spreading to let her sit in between them, her hands rubbing circles on your hip bone as her kisses trailed lower and lower until your pubic bone was under her lips. You were not one to push or beg, you had a certain level of patience, one of the traits she loved most about you as she was an explosive force of nature, so she knew you were enjoying it how much she was making you wait even if she could feel how hot your skin was under her palms.

Her fingers played and walked all the way from your upper thigh to the ankle of your left leg, her hand wrapping around it and lifting, her lips kissing the arch of your foot, pecking the skin of your calf and sucking behind your knee, placing your leg over her shoulder. Her hot breath ghosted over your inner thigh raising goosebumps, making you whimper and close your eyes when her teeth nibbled and kissed up until the joint in between your cunt and leg, your breath hitched in your lungs. She gave you a gentle kiss over your dripping folds, a reward of sorts or perhaps a gentle torture, you were unsure, before moving to your right leg, placing it over her shoulder once she had kissed behind your knee. It was a wonderful contrast how she could taste your sweet skin and the salty tears she had just cried, the happiest tears she had ever shed in her life. She would happily stay like this forever with you in her bed, being loved, receiving every ounce of what she could give, just like she wanted, like you needed. Her kisses on your inner thigh were sweet and gentle, a far cry from the roughness she had showed you that first night, her lips inches from your centre, her breathing tickling you, cooling the juices that were coating your folds. The anticipation was staggering, your breath shaky, your hands holding onto the bedsheets on either side of you for dear life until finally her mouth made contact, and your eyes rolled back.

Her tongue was magical, moving up and down slowly, tasting, drinking in the sweetness of you while her hands pressed against your hips gently to keep you in place. The moans that were filling up the room were loud, great indication for Avis that she was doing perfectly in between your legs, taking one of your folds and sucking hard. Stars were not that far from your vision if she carried on like that, her movements faster now, her fingers accompanying her mouth as she opened you up to her, pushing one finger inside you as her lips wrapped around your clit, twirling it, sending jolts of pleasure all throughout your body. You really did not know how much you could take; you were so worked up that anything she did made your head roll back and your body arch and buckle against her face, but she still pushed your limits a little by adding a second finger, pumping in and out as fast as she could, curling her fingers. When your walls began to clench hard around her, your moans turning to incoherent screams muffled by the pillow as you thrashed your head from side to side, her licks became more applied, harder and more focused around your swollen bud, adding a third finger that stretched you up so divinely that upon feeling her thrust deep inside you hitting that spot, her lips sucking, teeth scraping you became quiet.

Everything was numb and then explosive, white fire and electricity through every limb, hips buckling erratically against Avis’s face. Your body was shaking and trembling, screaming her name until your throat became raw, nearly suffocating her as your thighs closed up around her. You rode your orgasm hard, so hard that Avis nearly had the temptation of carrying on until you were coming around her fingers a second time but decided against it, after all, the night was young. There was plenty of time for her to take you again and again until you became one with her. Your juices coated her face and hand as her pace slowed, her tongue taking it all while being careful not to touch your overstimulated clit. After a few moments you collapsed underneath her, legs releasing her and allowing her to take a deep breath, but she was not mad, she kissed your knees, her hands rubbing soothing circles on the skin of your hip bone as you came down. She wanted to check that you were okay, crawling up your body, your breasts bouncing as your body panted trying to return to a semblance of normality, her lips pecking the line of your jaw and cheeks. Still with your eyes closed you smiled and although you could not see her you were sure she was smiling as well. You hadn’t realised you were still grabbing the bedsheets, releasing them, your hands slightly numb from the strength with which you had been holding onto them, but you still brought them to the back of her neck, lazily playing with her hair.

-You are going to be hoarse tomorrow, darling.

-Hmmmm, words are overrated.

-Not after what you just told me. I think those ones are the most precious ones I will ever hear. – the way her voice laced with care and honesty made you open your eyes, her face a foot above yours, her hair framing her face just beautifully, waves tussled and dishevelled and sightly matted. – I could spend all night hearing you talk about all the things that you love about me, but I would love it even more if I could hear everything about you.

-I would like that. Over dessert?

-I thought I was your dessert. Was I not sweet enough on your tongue?

-Oh, Avis, you were delicious. – you both chuckled quietly before meeting your lips for a gentle loving kiss, her arms snaking around your neck as she dropped on her side moving you so you were still face to face. – But Teresa did give you a package

-Shit, I left in the car! I had other things in my mind.

She pecked your lips before stepping off the bed. God, she was gorgeous. Every curve was just utter temptation under the moonlight, but much to your dismay she covered them with a pink feathered robe, making her way to the door and telling you that she would be back in a minute, leaving it ajar. Your body was still tingling, and you basked in the wonderful feeling for a bit before sitting in bed observing how her dress was bunched up on the floor in between the covers, her underwear everywhere while yours rested a few feet from the full-size mirror. One of these days you would take her while standing in front of it, watch her face contort in pleasure, meeting her eyes through the reflection. You were shaken from your thoughts when Avis returned with the brown package in her hands, closing the door and climbing back on top of the mattress. Her hands were busy undoing the string, yours undoing the knot of her robe, she was far too overdress for all the things you had planned for her, placing tender kisses on her neck and shoulders as you slipped the garment off her body and onto the floor. Avis had stilled her movements, her fingers resting over the cardboard until she felt your hands wrap around her waist, pressing her back against you, finally letting her pull the top open.

-Oh, tiramisu!

-Just like Teresa to give you her favourite dessert. Uh, she likes you, she’s even given us cutlery. – your hand picked up the metal spoon, slicing through the mascarpone and biscuits before lifting it to Avis’s face. – Here, taste the most delicious thing in the planet. - She took it greedily, wrapping her lips around the scoop, lulling her head back slightly, her ear resting against your cheek, moaning loudly as she chewed.

-My God, this is marvellous. I’m going to have to hire her to cater future parties.

-Oh yeah? Am I going to have to worry about you trying to seduce her?

-It would only be for the food dear, only for the food. I would never change you for anyone, and I’ve seen gorgeous actress and actors. None of them hold a candle to you.

-Good, because I would be very upset since… - you pushed her face to the side with your fingers on her chin to meet your eyes, your lips hovering over hers. – I very much love you.

-What? I’m afraid I’m a bit hard of hearing, could you repeat it?

-I… love… you – each word was emphasized by a kiss, the remnants of coffee and mascarpone mixing with her own essence deliciously.

-Again.

-I love you.

-Again.

-Avis, I love you.

Her body turned completely, chest pressed against chest, slipping easily in your arms to kiss you properly, the dessert forgotten at the foot of the bed as she pushed you back over the mattress.

[from-memphis-with-love]

Just Because - an Elvis Presley oneshot

Synopsis: When she wrote Elvis Presley a letter so many years ago, she had no idea he'd become her destiny.

TW: None! This is a fluffy story about Elvis and his new bride on their wedding night. Enjoy <3

Las Vegas glittered outside the window of the Flamingo Hotel, a carnival of neon and promise. Inside suite 702, Elvis Presley turned the key in the lock and pushed the door open, standing back to let his bride enter first.

"Well, Mrs. Presley." Elvis dropped the room key on the side table and loosened his black tie. "Think we gave ‘em enough of a show?"

Lizzie kicked off her white satin heels, wiggling her toes against the plush carpet. Her wedding dress - a simple, elegant sheath - whispered around her ankles as she moved.

"If I had to smile for one more camera, my face might have cracked." She massaged her cheeks. "Pretty sure my jaw is permanently damaged."

"You looked beautiful the whole time," Elvis said. "Even when Senator Wilkins talked our ears off about his hunting dogs."

"I counted," Lizzie said, laughing. "Seventeen minutes about beagles. I timed it on your watch."

"Atta girl. Always paying attention to the details." Elvis shrugged off his tuxedo jacket and slung it over a chair.

The suite was extravagant even by Vegas standards - a sprawling living room with a crystal chandelier, plush white couches, and a panoramic view of the Strip. Flowers covered nearly every surface, congratulatory bouquets from friends, fans, and industry people. A table by the window held a pyramid of champagne bottles and gift boxes wrapped in silver and white.

"Did ya see who sent this?" Elvis called, holding up a bottle of champagne from the collection and wiggling his eyebrows. 

Lizzie unzipped her small suitcase on the king-sized bed. "If it's the one with the red ribbon, that's from Frank."

"Sinatra knows his champagne." Elvis studied the label. "Think we should save it?"

"For what?" Lizzie pulled out her nightclothes, neatly folded. "Another special occasion? Elvis, we just got married. I think this qualifies."

"Good point." He searched for glasses. "Although technically, we've been married for" - he checked his watch - "eight hours and twenty-two minutes. The special occasion ship might have sailed."

"Are you saying our wedding night isn't special?" Lizzie arched an eyebrow.

"I'm saying" - he popped the cork with practiced ease - "that every night with you is special, so we'd better start drinking now or we'll have a serious backlog of champagne."

Lizzie laughed, the sound warm and real in the artificial perfection of the suite. She turned back to her suitcase, unpacking with methodical precision. A sundress for tomorrow, toiletries, a dog-eared paperback.

As she lifted out a pale blue nightgown, something slipped from between the folds - a piece of faded pink stationery that fluttered to the carpet.

Elvis, crossing to hand her a glass of champagne, bent to pick it up.

"What's this?" He turned the worn paper over in his hand. His eyebrows lifted as he read the envelope. "Elizabeth Colasanti Presley." He whistled low. "Been practicing that name for a while, honey?"

Lizzie lunged across the bed. "Give me that!"

Elvis held it up, just out of reach. "September 1956," he read from the top corner. "Dear Elvis Presley." He looked at her with growing delight. "Is this what I think it is?"

"It's nothing." Her cheeks flushed pink. "Just something silly."

"Don’t look like nothing." He unfolded it carefully. "This paper's been folded and unfolded a hundred times."

"That's private." But there was no real fight in her voice.

"Not if it's addressed to me," Elvis countered, eyes twinkling. "Besides, what kind of secrets could my wife be keeping on our wedding night?"

He perched on the edge of the bed, smoothing the letter across his knee.

"'Dear Elvis Presley,'" he began, his voice in a singsong imitation of a young girl. "'I saw you on Ed Sullivan last Sunday. My daddy says you're corrupting the youth of America.'" Elvis glanced up. "Your daddy sure changed his tune."

"Keep reading." Lizzie hugged a pillow to her chest. "It gets worse."

"'I told him music that makes people feel something real can't be bad.'" Elvis paused. "That's pretty profound for a teenager."

"I had my moments."

"'When you sang "Don't Be Cruel," I felt like you were singing just to me-'"

"Oh God." Lizzie buried her face in the pillow. "Skip ahead."

He ignored her. "'My mama's been sick, and sometimes your songs are the only thing that makes the house feel normal. Like there's still good things in the world.'" His voice softened. "Lizzie..."

"I was sixteen," she said, her voice muffled by the pillow. "We found out mom had cancer that spring. It was a rough time."

Elvis continued reading: "'I know you'll never read this. But sometimes I imagine you're just a regular boy from Tennessee, not a star, and we might run into each other at a soda shop. You'd smile at me, and I'd finally work up the courage to tell you how your music makes even the bad days better.'"

His eyes moved down the page. "'I'm going to be somebody too someday. I'm saving up for design school. Maybe one day I'll make costumes for your movies, and you'll never know that the girl fixing your collar once wrote you this letter.'"

Elvis looked up at her, his expression soft with wonder. "'Yours truly, Elizabeth Colasanti.'"

For a moment, neither spoke. Then Elvis carefully refolded the letter.

"How long have you been carrying this around?" he asked.

"Since I wrote it." Lizzie lowered the pillow, her embarrassment fading. "It's my good luck charm. I take it whenever I'm starting something new. First day of design school, first apartment, first job..." She shrugged. "First marriage."

"You never mailed it."

"Of course not. Famous people don't read fan mail from nobody girls in Maryville."

"I read my fan mail." Elvis looked wounded.

"You read some fan mail. You get thousands of letters a week, Elvis."

"Still." He tapped the letter against his palm. "Funny how things work out."

"Funny strange or funny ha-ha?"

"Both." He nodded toward her suitcase. "You keeping anything else I should know about? Lock of my hair? Chewed gum?"

"Very funny." She snatched the letter back. "You know very well I didn't even talk to you until Blue Hawaii. I wasn't some obsessed fan."

"Blue Hawaii." A smile played at the corners of his mouth. "You never did give that handkerchief back. I kept waiting."

"You remembered that?" Lizzie looked genuinely surprised.

"’Course I did. It was my lucky one. Had Dodger embroider EP on it and everything."

She moved to her suitcase and carefully extracted a small fabric square from an inner pocket. "You mean this old thing?"

Elvis stared at the worn handkerchief. "You actually kept it? All this time?"

"It was my something blue today." She placed it in his palm. "I figured after the wedding I should finally return it."

His fingers closed around it. "Three years for a handkerchief to find its way home. That might be a record."

"I did try to return it the next day," Lizzie said. "But you were filming that beach scene-"

"-and you decided to keep it instead."

"I was going to mail it to you."

"Sure you were." He tucked the handkerchief into his pocket. "Hold that thought."

Elvis went to his suitcase, digging beneath his clothes until he pulled out a wooden box about the size of a cigar box. A small crown was burned into the top.

"What's that?" Lizzie asked.

"Just a little collection." He sat beside her on the bed and opened the lid. Inside were dozens of folded notes, ticket stubs, and small scraps of paper.

Lizzie picked up a faded receipt. On the back was her handwriting: Coffee, black. Two sugars. I noticed. She looked at him. "You kept this? It was just a coffee order."

"It was the first time anyone had paid attention to how I take my coffee without being told." He shrugged, almost embarrassed. "The little things matter."

She sifted through more papers. "There must be fifty notes in here."

"Fifty-seven." He didn't hesitate. "Including the one you left on my dressing room mirror after our first fight."

"Our first fight wasn't a fight," Lizzie protested. "It was a minor disagreement about your inability to be on time for anything."

"Sure felt like a fight. You didn't talk to me for three days."

"Two and a half." She picked up another note. "'Elvis - Dinner at 7. Not 7:05, not 7:15, and definitely not 7:45. Some of us respect punctuality. - LC.'"

He grinned. "You were so mad."

"You showed up at 8:30."

"But I brought flowers."

"Dead flowers. You left them in the car with the windows up. In August."

Elvis laughed, the deep, genuine laugh that so rarely made it to television or film. "I did, didn't I? God, you're the only woman I know who would've thrown them straight in the trash."

"I have standards."

"You certainly do." He nudged her shoulder. "Lucky for me, punctuality wasn't a deal-breaker."

Lizzie's fingers found a movie ticket stub. "Our first real date."

"Was that a date? I thought you were just taking pity on the poor ole lonely movie star."

"You asked me to go. You paid for the tickets. You bought me popcorn. That's the textbook definition of a date, Presley."

"Huh." He took the ticket, studied it. "Guess I've been dating you longer than I thought."

Her expression softened. "Remember what you said after the movie?"

"I said a lot of things. I was nervous."

"You said, 'It's nice seeing a movie without being in it.'"

"I meant it. That night..." He hesitated. "That was the first time in years I felt like a regular guy."

Lizzie picked up another scrap of paper. "What's this one?"

He glanced at it. "List of baby names."

"Baby names?" Her eyebrows shot up. "Whose baby names?"

"Yours and mine, someday." He took the paper gently. "You fell asleep in my trailer last year, and you were talking in your sleep. You said we'd have a daughter with hair like mine and your mother's eyes."

"I don't remember that."

"You wouldn't. You were out cold. Lettie Ann and Celie Jane, those were the names you said."

"And you wrote them down?" Lizzie looked at him with soft surprise.

"Told you. The little things matter." He touched her cheek. "You matter."

In that moment, Lizzie saw not the Hollywood draw or the magnetic presence that dominated every room, but the boy from Tupelo, Mississippi who'd once been as ordinary as she was. She leaned in and kissed him softly.

"Who would've thought?" she whispered against his lips. "The fan and the star."

"I'm not the star tonight." He kissed her back. "Tonight I'm just the luckiest man in Vegas."

"Now who's being profound?"

"Must be your influence." His smile faded to something more serious. "You know what's crazy? If the Colonel hadn't insisted on those sequined costumes for the charity show, and if the regular costume designer hadn't quit in a huff, and if they hadn't hired your boss as a replacement..."

"...and if I hadn't been assigned to your dressing room..."

"...we never would have met." He brushed a strand of hair from her face. "Thank God for small miracles."

The mmemory rushed back, vivid as yesterday:

The Blue Hawaii set, 1961. Lizzie sat in a corner of the costume tent, struggling with a torn Hawaiian shirt. Her first week as a junior costume assistant, and she was already drowning in a sea of alterations.

"Need that in five, Colasanti!" Mr. Hanson barked as he passed by, arms laden with garments.

"Yessir," she mumbled, jabbing the needle through the fabric with more force than necessary.

She'd been working since five that morning. Her fingers were sore, her back ached, and the humidity was making her hair curl in ways that defied professional appearance. But she wasn't about to complain. Jobs like this didn't fall into the laps of girls from Maryville who were seven credits short of a design school degree.

"You're new here." The voice came from behind her, casual as a Tennessee breeze.

Lizzie nearly stabbed herself with the needle. Elvis Presley stood not three feet away, wearing street clothes instead of his costume, twisting a ring over and over on his finger.

"Yes." She managed the single syllable. "First week."

"Tough break, getting stuck with the repair pile." He nodded toward the mountain of clothing beside her. "Hanson's got a reputation."

"He's just particular." She defended her boss automatically.

"That's a nice way of putting it." Elvis smiled, and it was different from his album covers. Even better in person. "You from back home? I can hear Tennessee."

"Maryville," she admitted. "Nothing special."

"I've played Maryville. Good people."

"I know. I was there." The words tumbled out before she could stop them. "At the Parkway Theater."

Something lit in his eyes. "No kidding?"

"You wouldn't remember." She bent her head back to her work, feeling foolish. "It was sold out."

"The Parkway's not that big." He leaned against the workbench. "Good acoustics, though."

"Need something, Mr. Presley?" Mr. Hanson emerged from the racks of costumes, his voice sharp.

"Just checking on my blue shirt for tomorrow." Elvis straightened. "The one with the palm trees."

"Being pressed as we speak. I'll have it delivered to your trailer within the hour."

"Thanks." But he made no move to leave. Instead, he watched as Lizzie fumbled with the needle, her hands suddenly clumsy under observation.

"Colasanti!" Hanson snapped. "That's the third time you've threaded that needle. Stop wasting time."

Lizzie's cheeks burned. The needle slipped again, and she pricked her finger. A bright bead of blood welled up, threatening to stain the pale fabric.

"My fault," Elvis said, stepping forward. "I was distracting her with questions."

Before anyone could react, he pulled a pale blue handkerchief from his pocket and gently pressed it to her finger.

"You'll want to use peroxide on that," he said to her, his voice quieter now. Then to Hanson: "Got any of those blue and green shirts for the backup dancers ready? I'd like to see one."

Hanson hurried off to find the requested items, leaving them momentarily alone.

"You didn't have to do that," Lizzie said.

"Do what?" Elvis winked. "Just looking out for the costume. Blood's hard to get out."

She tried to return the handkerchief, but he shook his head.

"Keep it for now. Might need it again in this place."

As he turned to go, she noticed the embroidered initials in the corner: EP.

"I'll return it," she called after him.

He glanced back, that half-smile playing at the corner of his mouth. "I'm counting on it."

But she never did.

"Earth to Lizzie." Elvis waved his hand in front of her face. "Where'd ya go?"

"Just thinking about that first day." She smoothed the handkerchief between her fingers. "You were kind to me when you didn't have to be."

"I'm always kind to pretty girls from Tennessee."

"Uh-huh." She rolled her eyes. "That's why you have such a sterling reputation."

"My reputation is greatly exaggerated." He sniffed with mock offense. "Unlike my talents."

"Modest, too."

"Never claimed to be modest." He gathered the scattered notes from the bedspread, returning them to the box. "Just talented."

Lizzie watched him, this man who now belonged to her in a way the teenage girl who wrote that fan letter could never have imagined. Not just the most famous man on the planet, but the man who kept handwritten notes and remembered her coffee order. Who'd asked her father's permission to marry her with the same nervousness as any other suitor.

"Hey." Elvis grabbed a sheet of hotel stationery from the desk. "We should write a new one."

"A new what?"

"A letter." He found a pen in the desk drawer. "To mark the occasion. Your letter brought you to me. Maybe this one..." He shrugged, suddenly self-conscious.

"Maybe this one what?" Lizzie prompted.

"Maybe this one carries us forward." He sat beside her, their shoulders touching. "I'll start."

He wrote a few lines, then passed the paper to her. Lizzie read silently: To my wife on our wedding night. I used to think fame was the best thing that would ever happen to me. Then I met a girl from Maryville, Tennessee. 

"Your turn," he said.

Lizzie took the pen, her handwriting a stark contrast to his bold scrawl. I used to think loving your music meant I knew you. Now I know that the real Elvis Presley talks in his sleep, can't match his socks to save his life, and makes me feel like the most important person in any room.

She passed it back. Elvis read her words and smiled. "I don't talk in my sleep."

"You absolutely do. Mostly about food."

"Lies and slander." But he was already writing again.

They passed the paper back and forth, adding lines, building something new together. Outside, the lights of Vegas continued their electric dance, but in suite 702, time seemed suspended.

I promise to cherish our quiet moments above all else - the ones where it's just us, with no cameras or crowds, Lizzie wrote.

I promise to always hear you, even when the noise of everything else gets too loud, Elvis added.

Lizzie finished the letter with a final line: I promise to keep every moment, good or difficult, like a note in a wooden box - safe, cherished, and ours alone.

She placed the pen down. "There. What do you think?"

Elvis read over their joint creation, his shoulder pressed against hers. "I think we write pretty well together, Mrs. Presley."

"It's strange, hearing that name." She turned to face him. "Good strange."

"I like how you say it." His voice dropped lower. "Like it's just another name, not something that comes with a whole lot of baggage."

"To me, it's just your name." She reached up to touch his face. "The name of the guy who saved my button-sewing career."

He laughed quietly. "Is that all I am to you? A career savior?"

"Among other things." The space between them had shrunk to almost nothing.

"What other things?" His eyes held hers, gentle but intent.

Instead of answering, she kissed him. This time, the kiss was honest, a little clumsy, and entirely theirs. His hand came up to cradle the back of her head, tender as if she might break.

When they pulled apart, the air between them had changed. Three years of knowing each other, of careful waiting, of building something real beneath the spotlight's glare - it all converged in this moment.

The truth was, they'd come close before. In the darkness of his car after late-night drives, in stolen moments between filming scenes, even once in her small apartment when a thunderstorm had knocked out the power. They'd explored each other in countless ways over these years, his hands and lips teaching her body things she'd never known to want. But they'd always stopped short of this final intimacy - this sacred line that Lizzie had determined to save for marriage.

"Lizzie." His voice was rough at the edges. "We don't have to-"

"I know." She smiled, though there was a slight tremble to her lips. "I want to."

A single tear slipped down her cheek before she could catch it.

"Hey." Elvis brushed it away with his thumb. "What's wrong?"

Lizzie took a shaky breath. "I've never done this before."

"I know, honey."

"But you have." It came out smaller than she intended, almost a question.

Elvis hesitated, then nodded. "I have."

Her eyes dropped, and something like a pout formed at the corner of her mouth.

"No, no." He tilted her face back up. "That's not a bad thing, Lizzie. It just means..." He paused, searching for the right words. "It means I know how to make it good for you. I'll show you."

"You'll show me?" The tension in her shoulders eased slightly.

"I'll be gentle," he promised. "We'll take it slow." His fingers traced the line of her jaw. "I want this to be something you remember for all the right reasons."

Lizzie nodded, leaning into his touch. "I trust you," she whispered, and the simple truth of those three words seemed to affect him deeply.

"I won't let you down." He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Not in this. Not ever."

She moved closer, her nervousness giving way to curiosity. "Will it hurt?"

"Maybe a little," he admitted, honest even now. "But then it gets better. I promise."

"You'll tell me what to do?"

The hint of vulnerability in her question made his expression soften. "You don't need to do anything but be yourself. That's all I've ever wanted."

She nodded, drawing courage from his steadiness. 

With the same deliberate care he'd shown that first day with the handkerchief, Elvis reached out and turned off the bedside lamp. In the semidarkness, the neon lights of Vegas filtered through the curtains, painting patterns across the ceiling.

"Come here," he whispered, and she did.

The first hint of dawn was breaking when Lizzie stirred awake. For a moment, she was disoriented. Then she felt the weight of her husband’s arm around her waist, heard the steady rhythm of his breathing, and remembered: She was Mrs. Elvis Presley now. The thought made her smile.

"What're you smiling about?" Elvis's voice was husky with sleep, his eyes still closed.

"How do you know I'm smiling if your eyes are shut?"

"I can feel it. You radiate when you smile. Like a little sun."

"That's the corniest thing you've ever said to me."

"Give me a break. It's not even eight AM." He opened one eye. "And I stand by it."

She shifted to face him, studying the familiar lines of his face, softened now by the dim light and intimacy. "Did you ever imagine this? Back when I was just the costume girl with the bleeding finger?"

"Not exactly this." His thumb traced the curve of her shoulder. "But I knew I liked you a lot.”

"I was terrified of you."

"No you weren't." He grinned. "You're not scared of anything."

"I hid in the supply closet three times that first week when I saw you coming."

"Yet here you are."

"Here we are," she agreed.

Elvis reached over to the nightstand where their letter lay beside the wooden box. "One more for the collection."

He folded the paper with careful precision and opened the box. As he placed the letter inside, something in his expression shifted, grew serious.

"You know it’s not gonna be easy, right? Being married to... all this." He gestured vaguely, encompassing not just himself but everything his name entailed.

"I didn't sign up for easy." She propped herself up on one elbow. "I signed up for you.”

"There will be lies in the papers. Rumors. People who want pieces of me that I can only give to you."

"I know."

"Tours, movies, time apart."

"I know that too."

"So why'd you say yes?" His voice held genuine curiosity. "You could've had a normal life with a normal guy. White picket fence, Sunday dinners, no flashbulbs in your face."

Lizzie considered this. "Remember that song you did? 'Just Because'?"

"Sure."

"That's why." She settled back against the pillows. "Just because."

Elvis whistled, a sound that conveyed both surprise and pleasure. "I've heard a lot of answers to that question in interviews. That might be my favorite."

"Good." She yawned. "Now go back to sleep. We've got brunch with the guys at eleven, and you're impossible when you're tired."

"Yes, ma'am." He settled beside her, his arm finding its place around her waist again.

Just before sleep reclaimed him, he murmured, "Lizzie?"

"Hmm?"

"I just remembered. You've got another letter to write."

"What's that?"

"Thank you note to Ed Sullivan. For getting us together."

[hotvintagepoll]

This is a three-way poll. Only one of these women will continue to the fourth round of the bracket.

Propaganda

Ava Gardner (The Killers, The Barefoot Contessa)— She's so goddamn hot. Her and Frank Sinatra could've sandwiched me and I would've thanked them for the privilege

Leonor Maia (The Tyrannical Father)— She didn't do a lot of movies but in The Tyrannical Father she is so pretty and charming that there's a guy who's obsessed with her to such a degree he is still a meme 80 years later. Her character's name is Tatão and the guy would stare at her whenever she was there and say her name to the tune of everything. A clock ticking: ta-tão, ta-tão, ta-tão. And to this day one of the lines people know the best from that very quotable movie is "ta-tão". She inspired crushes and horniness of legendary levels.

Louise Brooks (Pandora's Box, Diary of a Lost Girl)—Louise Brooks started off as a dancer and went to work in the Follies before going to Hollywood. Disappointed with her roles there, she went to Germany and proceeded to make Pandora's Box, the first film to show a lesbian on-screen (not her but one of her many doomed admirers in the film), and Diary of a Lost Girl, both of which are considered two of the greatest films of the 20th century. She helped popularize the bob and natural acting, acting far more subtly than her contemporaries who treated the camera as a stage audience. After the collapse of her film career and a remarkably rough patch as a high-end sex worker, she was rediscovered and did film criticism, notably "Lulu in Hollywood," which Rodger Ebert called "indispensable." Also, christ. Look at her.

This is round 3 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Ava Gardner:

Ava Gardner is one of my favorite actresses of all time. Although a lot of her roles in movies are about her being beautiful and nothing else, there are some films where her acting truly shines.

Gifset: https://www.tumblr.com/pelopides/721438308726603776/ava-gardner-as-pandora-reynolds-pandora-and-the

Gifset 2: https://www.tumblr.com/portraitoflestatonfire/731899355804598272/if-the-loustat-reunion-doesnt-look-like-this-then

HER FACE. LOOK AT IT. Also was a life long supporter of civil rights and a member of the NAACP, had lots of fun love affairs with other stars, bullfighters, married several times but was also happy in between to just have lovers and was unapologetically herself.

I literally gasp every time I see her.

Between 1942 and 1964, Ava Gardner was credited in no less 50 films, and is still considered by some to be the most beautiful actresses that ever graced the silver screen. Despite life-long insecurities regarding her talent as an actress, she weathered public scandal, industry hostility, and outright condemnation by the Catholic Church with fearless grace. She would later in life talk candidly about the reality and pain of living through two (studio approved!!) abortions during her short marriage to Frank Sinatra, and while the two of them could not make their relationship work, they remained in each other’s lives for nearly 30 years. She would forever describe herself as a small-town girl who just got lucky, but always felt like a beautiful outsider.

Really genuinely one of the most beautiful human beings I have ever seen. An autodidact. Had amazing chemistry with Gregory Peck to the point where I do think about watching On The Beach again sometimes because they're so good together even though that movie did destroy me. Was a great femme fatale in many movies.

There is no additional propaganda for Leonor Maia.

Louise Brooks:

"Defined the style of the modern flapper. A gaze that could make a stone fall in love."

"Louise Brooks left a legend far greater than her real achievement as an actress, but even today few people have seen her films. In our own time, the fascination with Brooks seems to have begun in 1979 with a profile by Kenneth Tynan in the New Yorker, which revealed that the actress who made her last movie in 1938 was alive and living in Rochester, N.Y. Such was the power of Tynan's prose that people began to seek out her existing films, primarily this one, to discover what the fuss was about. What we see here is a healthy young woman -- she was 23 when the film was released -- with whom the camera, under G.W. Pabst's influence, is fascinated. There is a deep paradox in Brooks and her career: the American girl who found success in the troubled Europe between two wars; the vivid personality who briefly dazzled two continents but faded into obscurity; the liberated woman who had affairs with such prominent men as CBS founder William S. Paley as well as with women including (by her account) Greta Garbo but wound up a solitary recluse. And all of this seems perfectly in keeping with her most celebrated role in Pandora's Box. For despite her bright vitality, her flashing dark eyes and brilliant smile, Brooks's Lulu becomes the ultimate femme fatale, careering her way toward destruction, not only of her lovers but eventually of herself."

"She invented having bangs to indicate that you have borderline personality disorder"

"chances are if youve ever seen a "flapper girl" character or even just art of a generic flapper type made after the 20s it was based on her appearance - particularly the bob hairstyle! she had some pretty rough experiences through her life before during and after her tumultuous acting career which ended in 1938 but she made it to the 80s, wrote an autobiography and did a lot of interviews that she was never afraid of being honest in about her own life or peers of the age, and apparently was unabashed about some affairs she had with well known women (including greta garbo!!)"

"She read Proust and Schopenhauer on set between sets. She was one of the original flappers/new women of the 1920s. She had a one night stand with Garbo and was the inspiration for Sally Bowles in Cabaret. Truly a stone cold fox."

"on her wikipedia page it says her biographer said she "loved women as a homosexual man, rather than as a lesbian, would love them" and while i have no idea if this is true or not i thought that was very gender of her"

"despite being american she was big in german expressionist films and thus her aesthetic was unmatched!!"

So far ahead of her time in regard to portraying complicated women. Timeless elegance. "I learned to act by watching Martha Graham dance, and I learned to dance by watching Charlie Chaplin act.” - Louise Brooks

[casparscunttt16]

Somethin' Stupid | Matt Sturniolo| Sturniolo Triplets.

Summary: In which you and Matt have been dating for 5 months and he says "I love you" for the first time in your relationship, on a late night drive.

Warnings: None, just fluff.

Enjoy loves!

gif not mine.

The night started out as something uneventful and boring as I sat at my desk typing up my essay which should've been done exactly 3 days ago as it's due tonight at 11:59. The night was quiet, peaceful, and somewhat relaxing. While I typed away, my phone buzzed a few times before I decided to check it. All text messages from Matt.

Matt and I have been dating for about 5 months. These 5 months with him have probably been the best of my life. He never failed to make me laugh and smile, cheer me up. He truly was the sweetest boy alive and best of all he treats me so well. Before I could respond to his text message I was receiving a FaceTime call from him. I smiled and propped my phone up on a random water bottle on my desk. "Hey sweetheart, what are you up to?" He asked with his entire face up in the camera making me giggle. "Finishing up my essay. What's up? Did you need something?" I asked, as I continued typing away. "Are you almost done?" He asked as I heard his car door close.

"Not exactly." I was completely engrossed in finishing my essay before the deadline. "I was thinking we could go on a late night drive and maybe stargaze at a park?" He spoke a bit shyly as he proposed his plan. I looked at him with a big smile plastered to my face. "I would love to." such simple words of agreement made his face light up. "I'll be there in about 15 minutes baby." he replies eagerly.

"Okay see you then, bye Matt." I smiled and hung up. I got up from my desk to change out of my pjs and into something a bit more presentable but nothing special. I put on a hoodie I took from Matt and grey sweatpants with my Birkenstocks. I did some light makeup which was just mascara and concealer with lipgloss.

In 20 minutes I got a text from Matt saying he was outside, just as I was about to walk out there was a knock at my apartment door. I opened the door to Matt obviously. "You look so cute." he smiles looking down at me then placing a gentle kiss on my lips. "Thank you Matty." I interlinked our fingers together, he leads me out the door and down into the parking lot. He walks over to the passenger side, opening the door for me and buckling me in. I smiled at the gesture and adjusted the seat to my liking.

He played some soft background music as he drove us to a park with a big field. He went to his trunk and grabbed blankets and pillows. "Babe do you need help?" I asked and he shook his head no.

He set everything up and patted a spot on the blanket next to him. We laid next to each other staring up at the stars. The music from the car still lightly playing in the background. He glances over at me. "What?" I questioned with a smile. "The moon is beautiful isn't it?" he replies, leaning into me, staring at my lips. "Quit being so cheesy." I rolled my eyes playfully. He pulls me closer, sort of leaning over, on top of me. His presses his lips against mine gently. He wrapped his arms around me lovingly while our lips moved in sync. After a few moments he pulled away and stared somewhat longingly into my eyes. "I love you" he speaks just slightly above a whisper, his tone is soft yet direct as he stares into my eyes. "I love you" I replied softly.

A/n: Leave requests 🤗

[p1utofairy]

PAC🎱

“don't change i like the way you make me feel. can we take our time and do this for awhile?”

• what will their first impression be of you?

disclaimer ✩: 18+ mature themes. take what resonates, leave what doesn't. it's been a minute y'all <3 i've been a bit busy but here's something new to show my appreciation for the constant love and support. ILY!

PILE ONE.

hello, pile 1. i don't know why i have the urge to start your reading off so professional but i feel like your energy reads “come correct or don’t come at all.” OOO okay i respect it! i’m already picking up that your person may feel like you’re out of their league…or their friends might tease them and say that you are. ballin’ by partynextdoor is playing, “i’m out of your league, baby. baby 'cause i’m ballin' for a minute.” i can see your person watching you from a distance, you’re surrounded by your friends laughing and talking, and their friend comes up next to them and says “[Y/N] is totally out of your league!” this may not even be a friend of theirs lol this could totally just be a hater being annoying but people definitely deem you as the perfect catch. your beauty is otherworldly i’m hearing, people constantly steal glances and are in complete awe of your beauty/the way you carry yourself. majority of you that chose this pile are deeply in tune with your feminine side and you like the finer things in life. “diamonds are a girl’s best friend!” is what i’m hearing — also 7 rings by ariana grande/my favorite things from the sound of the music. yeah y’all are it girls for sure! i think they’ll be a bit intimidated and nervous to approach you at first pile 1…they'll definitely be in their head a lot. their thoughts will be so all over the place like “WHAT IF [Y/N] doesn't like me?! or WHAT IF [Y/N] doesn't give me a chance!?" lol but once they finally do muster up the courage to approach you?! it's a wrap! i think that you'll like the way that they try to woo you, it'll be different from the way other people try to get your attention. however, i think that it will take them a while to actually make a move because they fear rejection. once they get out of their own head and take the leap, they'll realize that there was no need to stress in the first place because they peaked your interest all along. they definitely see you as high-value and very classy pile 1. they'll treat you with the utmost respect and go the extra mile to court you the way that you deserve to be. they will not take you for granted. not only do they think that you’re absolutely stunning, but they also admire how you have the brains and wit to match. i also think that visually you two will look very good together, it’s giving power couple vibes. when you pop out with them heads definitely will turn cause i think y’all both match each other’s fly very well — ugh yes!

other channeled messages:

could be younger than you, mama’s boy, dream girl, g.o.a.t by eric bellinger ft. aroc, lil boo thang by paul russell, air sign venus, you make me feel so young by frank sinatra

PILE TWO.

hi pile 222! i'm ngl i keep hearing that tiktok sound of that flo milli song that goes "he speedin’ the wraith while his hand on my coochie, he touchin’ emilio pucci." LOLOLOL maybe y'all like that song or you keep seeing tiktok edits with it playing? idk that was random but i feel like it's also your vibe? you have this sultry/seductress vibe but you have such a cute face i'm hearing, i think people may not expect this from you. i’m picking up that some people project onto you a lot and have this expectation/idea of how you should be/should act which is weird…people may have started rumors about you or said you had sex with someone that you didn't. ugh you definitely have undercover haters and i'm also picking up that some of you get sexualized a lot :( you feel misunderstood a lot of the time and people don't realize that there's more to you than what meets the surface. i think that your person may hear of the rumors but won't pay them much mind…they want to get to know you for themselves. they'll think that you're very ambitious, kind-hearted and smart! you have big dreams and they admire how motivated you are to achieve them — it's inspiring to them! you have a zest for life and you know how to turn a negative into a positive, so despite what anyone has to say about you…you'll always succeed and have the last laugh. ngl this turns your person on??!?!?! OMFG I'M CRYING. your person is also very dedicated and passionate so the fact that you match their energy will have them feeling some type of wayyyyy like they want you bad pile 2. they definitely see you as the ultimate trophy like they want nobody else but you, this isn't in a superficial way either…they just love how you never fold under pressure. they love that you can hold your own and you don't need anyone to validate you, including them. they never met someone like you before pile 2, they feel like you're a rare find. like you by bow wow ft. ciara is coming to mind. YEAHHH IT'S VERY MUCH THAT.

other channeled messages:

nyc, baby it's cold outside, agora hills by doja cat, smoking weed, retail job, scorpio, fire signs (esp leo & sag), milkshake by kelis

PILE THREE.

hey pile 3! right away i’m already feeling that your person will think that you're hard to catch or too hot to handle…something along those lines. they'll feel like you’re hard to obtain, you might be very private/incognito so they don't know how to reach you. incognito in the sense that you don't post a lot on social media or you don't go out to parties/clubs much, you’re like a mystery. you value your privacy and personal space a lot (and there's nothing wrong with that) but just know this might make it a bit difficult for your person to approach you. i think that you have very high standards and you will not settle for less or compromise any of your personal needs/desires for a situation you know is not worth your time. i don't know…i feel like you might curve this person initially — you may not feel like you're in the right headspace or are in the right capacity to handle a relationship with this person at the time that they reach out or approach you. for some that chose this pile, this could be an old-flame trying to spin the block again but i don't think you'll be very receptive to the idea of giving them another chance. this person is willing to wait and give you the space that you need until you figure out if you want something more with them or not. i think you're more so focused on healing your inner child and pouring love back into yourself pile 3 which is absolutely beautiful, keep going! it's all going to work out in your favor in the long run. a similar dynamic that i pick up between you and this person is elizabeth bennett and mr. darcy from ‘pride and prejudice’ for those of you that watched the movie, you know how it took a good amount of time before they finally got together — but that slow burn/build up between them was sooooo worth it. i think that once you feel ready, this relationship will bloom into something so beautiful, passionate and intricate — something only you two will ever understand but ultimately it's up to you pile 3!

other channeled messages:

u with me? by drake, yearning for your love, long distance, passive aggressive, i made some mistakes, back and forth text messages, mind games

[hearts4golbach]

if you do requests can you do any Johnnie Gulibert x fem reader fluff please 🙏🙏

Somethin’ Stupid.

Johnnie Guilbert x Fem!Reader.

sorry if this isn’t fluffy enough, i had this idea and song stuck in my head and thought it’d be perfect!

Johnnie sat in the living room on his phone as we waited for Jake and Tara to come over. the four of us frequently had dinner together, at least once a week. this week was at me and Johnnie's shared apartment. it was small but cozy. the faded maroon couch creaked as I plopped down next to him.

"You gonna help me cook? I was thinking we could make, like, lasagna or something. I don't know, I want pasta." I rambled, running my fingers along his tattoos.

"Of course," he kissed my forehead before checking the time on his phone. "it's only 3, they won't be here until 5:30."

"Well, yeah. i was thinking we could make everything from scratch. I know you're not a huge person on cooking, but it'd be fun if we did it together." I say shyly.

"you really trust me in that fucking kitchen?" he laughed, "I'd probably burn this place to the ground."

"yeah, right." I roll my eyes and stand up, gripping his arm in an attempt to pull him up. "Come onnn!" I whined, "we have all of the ingredients and everything."

he sighed dramatically. "fine, only because I love you."

"lazy bitch." I teased before making my way to the kitchen, johnnie not far behind me.

I listed the ingredients we needed off some random website so he could gather them. he was already moaning and groaning about how he's going to fuck it up.

"well, since I'm here, you can only fuck shit up if you try really, really hard." I tilted my head, putting my hands on my hips.

he waved his hand around. "whatever you say. let's do this shit authentic, dump the flour straight on the counter."

"johnnie, do no -" before I could protest, he had dumped a cup of flower onto the counter. "I'm not fucking cleaning that up."

johnnie giggled and finished putting the correct amount of flour into our freshly cleaned counters. “okay, maybe we should mix the wet ingredients in a bowl first and not dump them on the counter like an idiot.” I rolled my eyes.

he fluffed his hair. "but that's so boring."

"at least it's somewhat practical. also, I hope you remember what has happened on that counter between us, just saying." I grabbed a bowl out of the cabinet. his face flushed light pink as he smiled. "wanna mix?" I handed him the whisk after I had put all of the wet ingredients in.

as he mixed, I cleaned up after him. I grabbed the flour and began to walk back towards the cabinet whenever johnnie moved and bumped into me, causing flour to go all over my face and stick. "...johnnie!" I scolded.

he whipped around and laughed at the sight. "sorry, babe." he cheezed.

"not funny, get me a towel or something. be a good boyfriend." I pestered, attempting to seem angry but not being able to manage it. i let out a laugh as i looked at myself through the reflection of the microwave. i watched as johnnie wet a towel before coming over to me and wrapping his arm around my waist. he pulled me close and began to wipe off my face. “thanks, baby.” i smiled, pecking his lips before pulling away and getting back to work.

he finished mixing and looked at me for permission to dump the shit on the counter. i rolled my eyes once more and nodded, “go ahead. it’s too late now.”

he giddily dumped the wet ingredients on the table, clapping and acting like a child with excitement. he began to mix everything with his hands and i helped him. “this feels so weird.” johnnie snickered.

i giggled, “well, yeah.” i lifted my hand up and wiped egg residue on his face.

he hunched over, gagging before wiping himself off with the towel. “ugh!”

“love you.” i smiled, wrapping up the dough and putting it in the fridge.

he grabbed the ingredients for the sauce as he read them from my phone. meanwhile, i began to shred cheese. “i don’t even eat half of the shit on this list. mushrooms?!” Johnnie joked, making me roll my eyes.

“mushrooms will be on the side, mainly for Jake and Tara if they want them. we can have a fancy dinner!” i protest, putting the cheese off to the side as i began to cut the mushrooms. Johnnie came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist as i cut. “you already done putting the sauce together?”

“yeah, it was easy.” he smirked, resting his head on my shoulder,

“did you do it correctly?” i emphasize, scooping the chopped up mushrooms into a pan to cook them.

he snorts, “i hope so.”

i triple checked to make sure everything was running smoothly before starting the oven. i hummed along with the Frank Sinatra record playing quietly in the background. i stirred the mushrooms, adding seasoning and singing to myself. “and then i go and spoil it all by saying somethin’ stupid like, ‘i love you.’”

“you’re so beautiful,” Johnnie commented, stirring the sauce before walking off to set the table.

i blushed just as hard as i had since we first started dating, things Johnnie said to me never got old. i continued humming along with a smile on my face. Johnnie began to wash plates and utensils, which were matching matte black with silver accents. i turned to look at him, unable to hold back a smile when his gaze met mine. i had always hated singing in front of people, but Johnnie loved it.

we quickly assembled the lasagna, as our time was running out quickly, it was already 5. we had lost track of time talking while everything cooked. after putting it in the oven, Johnnie kissed my forehead. “we did great.”