#that dining setup is everything

[tea-time-terrier]

Extreme levels of satisfaction. My $7 thrift store find produced a newly upholstered cushion for my beloved dumpster chair, AND a new and improved cover for pichael's kennel <3

[alpinelogy]

Laptop has unfortunately decided to remind me that it is a gaming laptop and therefore battery shite :((. Ig ill go edit the sargebon thing ive had since like thursday before i go back to graphics while it charges

[ozzgin]

Do you only write Hannibal lecter or do you also write for NBC Hannibal?

Yandere! Hannibal x Reader: The Grand Meal

Gather around for a short story in the spirit of Thanksgiving. You have been invited by Hannibal Lecter to a celebratory dinner, although unexpectedly barren of other guests. He will be entertaining you this evening, carefully describing each dish as he battles his own inner turmoil. (For extra immersion, I suggest listening to Bach's 'Sheep May Safely Graze')

Warning: Cannibalism and detailed gore. I'd advise against reading if you're squeamish. 

[Horror Masterlist]

He politely aids you in removing your coat, folds it over his forearm, and steps aside, expectantly. You glance at him, somewhat confused.

"Your bag, if I may."

"Oh, I...I was planning to bring it with me. I have my phone in it and all the essentials." you stutter, unsure.

Uh huh. Your etiquette seems to be lacking in certain areas. Nothing that cannot be chiseled. 

"You won't be needing it, I assure you." he extends his hand out, waiting. 

You hesitantly place the dark leather Pochette into his fingers. Hannibal has always been rather particular when it comes to decorum. You wouldn't want to upset him, especially given his generous invite to his Thanksgiving celebration. He'd heard your complaint of being alone during the holidays and he encouraged you to join him instead.

As you hurry behind him down the spacious hallway, you quietly marvel at the expensive, tasteful paintings sporadically adorning the walls. 

"I suspected they might be to your liking." He briefly peeks back at you with a faint smile on his lips. 

The heavy wooden doors creak open and your nostrils are quickly overwhelmed by the tempting smell of intricate dishes. You narrow your eyes, taking in the flavors. Once you finally look ahead, you notice that the table, although neatly decorated, consists only of two seats that have been prepared for dining. Two opposing seats, causing the whole setup to seem of ridiculous length. 

"Pardon my intrusion, but is anyone else attending?" You cannot contain your curiosity.

"Oh, no.  Not really." Hannibal pulls your chair outwards before departing to his own designated place. "It's you and me. Does that bother you?"

"I suppose it's cozier this way." You brush it aside with a chuckle. Better than being alone, you tell yourself.

He nods in agreement before settling down. He takes a moment to examine the table, confirming that everything is indeed in its proper place. A final, satisfied incline of his head.

"Allow me to introduce today's dishes. I don't want to keep you waiting for too long." He says as he remembers your earlier little gesture of delight. "It's a little bit of a scattered theme, if I am to be honest with you. I've drawn my inspiration from varied cuisines."

"I can see. How exciting!" You swiftly scan over the diverse plates, enthusiastic and hungry.

"The main course is over there. Balsamic-glazed oven baked ribs. I recommend a drizzle of cranberry sauce to go with it."

As he points to the dish, he can almost hear the dry crack of the bone. Abruptly, he's been taken back to the previous night, to his humble slaughter room - the meat needs to be fresh after all. Shears cut through the ribs with little resistance. The blades go around the thoracic cavity, contouring the ribcage. Once a proper opening has been made, he firmly grasps each side of the ribcage and nonchalantly lifts the bone flap, resting it over the face. 

Wait. He quickly digs through the skin and fat that had been shoved aside with the carcass, searching for the face of the victim. It's you. How delectable and surprising that you've wandered into such a recollection. Well, not quite a surprise that you've invaded his memories; from the very moment he met you he's been plagued by this indecent idea: How would you look on the dissecting table?

His musings are interrupted by the sizzle of the sparkling wine he's currently pouring in your glass. He finds himself back at the dining table, together with his favorite guest. You graciously thank him, and as he gazes over your features, he can't help but continue this game of imagination he's just spontaneously devised. Whoever had been carefully served for this occasion will be temporarily replaced during the theatrical retelling by you. And what a fine actor you'll be, even though you're not aware of it.

Alright, one must start from the beginning. He traces the edge of the autopsy table and inspects the drain just below your feet. He wouldn't want an incident. Would you be mortified if you'd learn your secretions and discharges leaked and clotted against the sieve? Don't worry, you'll be spared of such scenarios. He'd never willingly embarrass you like that. He softly presses the scalpel against your bare skin, going under each breast and stopping at the pubic bone. Now to trim the thick layers of fat sticking to the dermis. You're not making much of a mess, but then again it's a dream within his idle mind. A mischievous grin takes over his expression once he witnesses his clean work. The segments of skin detach smoothly, revealing your glistening, bloated organs. 

He already went over the ribs. That part has been covered. What comes next? His eyes rest on the most obvious: your intestines. Which reminds him...

"This one is a Middle Eastern dish. Stuffed intestines. You gently cut the membrane, like this." He demonstrates on a separate plate. "Don't worry about seeing some additional blood. Naturally there are many capillaries irrigating the walls, so you might open them up in the process. It quickly seeps into the mixture and adds a bit of a stagnant flavor to it, but it's merely noticeable."

You swallow dryly.

Back to the original matters. He searches for his scissors and cuts along the attachment tissue smoothly. Once the bowels have been freed, he fondles them into his hands, cupping them into place, and hurries to the nearby counter. The entrails collapse and spread onto the marble surface, like mischievous tentacles. He languidly eyes them. Do organs resemble their owner? Absurd question, really. Do they reflect one's health - that much is indubitable. Yet he can't help feeling that if presented with an endless row of viscera, he could, without hesitation, point and state which ones are yours. It's a mysterious confidence whose source he cannot pinpoint. You've always captivated him. Just when he thinks he's had you like an open book, you slip and slither between his fingers. Fitting.

What is it about you that preoccupies his mind to such degree? He turns back to the table and scans the remaining options. Your intelligence? The tool drawer opens and his fingers linger over the saw and skull chisel. Perhaps. But there's more to it, really. His analytical, rational self craves for more than what it can grasp. And what it lacks, well...

He pinches the visceral fascia and lifts the translucent membrane, with the same delicacy of unveiling a young bride, and reveals your heart, cold and still. There it is, the answer to everything. A transect to the vena cava near the diaphragm and the organ has been separated from the rest of the body. An angel with clipped wings. Holding it like this, he can almost discern the faintest throb, the fibrous muscle pressing into his skin. 

"And this?"

He purses his lips, taken aback by his own rudeness. Has he been zoning out in plain sight?

"I'm afraid I don't follow."

"The dish, I mean."

He follows the direction of your stretched out index. Ah.

"Heart stuffed with mushroom duxelle. Old English classic with a twist." 

"You sound like a professional chef", you respond as you laugh. "Is there anything you can't do?"

Is there? He considers it. Right before his revelation was discontinued by your inquiry - absolutely not your fault, the ill manners were his - he was wondering if he possesses the capacity to love you. He definitely prefers you over all of the people he's encountered in his life, and your behavior and way of thinking never ceases to make him curious. Yet love is a conclusion he cannot asses with certainty. 

He had hoped a vivisectionist approach would offer him concrete data, palpable reasoning, but his journey only reinforced that some concepts must be tested outside of pure introspection. Or, as one would describe it colloquially, he has to take the bull by its horns. 

"By the way, what meat is this?" You have arranged yourself a platter with a little bit of everything, and just finished chewing a hearty bite. "Ox or something? It's very tender."

If Hannibal is to embark on his expedition of human feelings, he needs to reflect on his choices carefully. Or does he? Hmm. His methodical tactics are what caused this impasse in the first place. 

One can afford to give in, every now and then. How will you react to his self indulgence? He rests his head on the back of his intertwined hands and stares at you with a determined look. 

"Human."

[ollieolliewrld]

DMC Men on Valentine's Day (SFW/NSFW)

Gender-neutral reader! NSFW is marked before it begins for each <3

1.8k words

Dante 

☆Dante had never taken Valentine's Day seriously

☆Before he met you there was no real love in his life so the day meant nothing to him

☆With you in his life though, he is determined to make Valentine’s Day the best day of the year

☆Very stereotypical setup, he got the flowers, the candy, the floor covered in flower petals, and your shared apartment is fully lit up by candles

☆He is pulling out all of the stops by making you your favorite dinner and treating you to a romantic bubble bath

☆He has never done romantic stuff before and he’s actually really into it 

☆Dante finds decorating and setting everything up to be very fun and keeps imagining your reaction when you arrive home and see everything

☆When you do arrive home your reaction is better than he imagined as you wrap your arms around him tightly planting kisses on his lips, nose, and cheeks

☆You were not expecting this and are so grateful for the effort he put in 

☆First, he helps you take off your coat, takes your bags from you, and then leads you to the dining table where the food is set up

☆The meal is delicious and you can taste the love he put into it, he tells you how he had a small mishap while cooking and you both laugh and talk for hours

* NSFW FROM HERE IF YOU’RE UNDER 18 LOOK AWAY *

☆After dessert, Dante leads you into the bathroom where he has a bath ready for the two of you 

☆He stands behind you planting kisses on your neck and down your shoulders slowly taking off your clothes

☆Once you are down to just your underwear you start to undress him starting by taking off his shirt, kissing all over his chest, and running your hands over his abs

☆You drop to your knees as he reaches down to undo his belt, eagerly you pull down his jeans and boxers and are met with his semi-hard length

☆Taking your hand around it you spit onto his tip and spread it over the head of his cock beginning to stroke him

☆“God, I love the way you do that, Baby” Dante groans as he looks down to meet your eyes

☆You lock eyes with him as you take him into your mouth swirling your tongue his tip still using your hand to stroke him

☆Taking his cock further into your mouth prompts Dante to place his hand on the back of your head gently pushing you to take him deeper down your throat, “Just like that, you’re doing so well for me” 

☆You bob your head using your free hand to brace yourself until he stops you brings you up to standing and pulls you into a kiss

☆“You are so good to me, but today is about you,” he says as he takes your hand to lead you into the tub

☆Dante spends the night exploring your body and making sure you are satisfied before finally lying down in your shared bedroom where he has put several dozens of flower bouquets around 

☆He holds you against his chest drawing patterns on your back as he whispers about his love for you until you fall asleep 

Vergil

☆This man loves you more than you will ever know 

☆However, he is clueless when it comes to things like Valentine’s Day

☆This doesn't mean he isn't going to try as he does want to spend this day with you and show you how much you mean to him

☆Valentine’s with Vergil is simple and meaningful 

☆He plans to make dinner with you playing music while you two work together to prepare the meal

☆A song will come on that Vergil specifically made sure was on the playlist 

☆When the first note plays he stops what he’s doing to take your hand and pull you to his chest 

☆One hand goes to your waist and the other takes your hand in his as he leads you in a slow dance 

☆Having you close to him allows him to shower you with compliments and tell you just how much you mean to him

☆He ends the dance with a kiss on your cheek and you two go back to work 

☆You work seamlessly together to set the table and plate the food 

☆The meal is beautiful and the conversation you share is deep and full of love

☆After you are done eating you go to begin cleaning but Vergil stops you and hands you an envelope telling you he wants you to read it while he takes care of the dishes

☆Puzzled you nod and go to the couch to open the letter 

☆Inside is a beautifully written note recounting your relationship from the day he met you until now saying how grateful he is to have you in his life

☆You begin to cry before you can get to the end and by this time he has come to sit beside you wiping away your tears

☆“You are the world to me, the end to my suffering,” he says as he places a kiss on your lips

* NSFW FROM HERE IF YOU’RE UNDER 18 LOOK AWAY *

☆You deepen the kiss running your hand through his hair and gently tugging at his white locks

☆Vergil groans into your mouth pulling you onto his lap not once taking his lips off of yours

☆He places his hands on your ass gently squeezing as he pulls you into him

☆You begin to roll your hips into his starting to feel him harden underneath you

☆Breaking the kiss he leans his head to look at you fully

☆“Be good for me and get on your hands and knees” he asks guiding you with his hands

☆You happily oblige feeling him take off your pants from behind you 

☆Making quick work of your shirt you turn to see Vergil now undressed behind you slowly stroking his cock

☆He pulls out a bottle of your favorite lube and applies a generous amount to his now swollen member 

☆Placing a hand on your hip he guides the tip of his cock to your entrance

☆“Take it all for me, Baby,” as he slowly slides into you

☆His thrusts are deep starting slowly

☆He wants you to feel him fully each time he enters you

☆Grabbing your hips with both hands he guides you back to fuck yourself on his cock

☆Your moans fuel him as he changes the pace to a faster one 

☆When he’s about to cum he grabs your hair to pull your back against his chest 

☆As he finishes he whispers in your ear, “You are mine and I will never let you go” 

Nero

☆This man has all of the right intentions but cannot plan to save his life

☆He had so many ideas of what to do with you on Valentine’s Day, so excited to show you how much he loves and cares for you 

☆But he did not check his calendar and now here the two of you are on Valentine’s Day driving to kick some demon ass

☆He thought it was weird that Nico wasnt here to drive but he forgot about it as he was too focused on designing a bouquet of flowers for you in his head

☆Nero starts up a conversation as he usually does, you seem off but once again he is so preoccupied with what restaurant to make reservations at he figures that he’ll ask you about it later

☆It was a small job only taking the two of you about an hour and something falls out of your bag as you were packing things up

☆Nero picks it up thinking that he’s helping you but he notices that it’s a cutely wrapped box with his name on it

☆You see what’s in his hand and lock eyes with him unsure of what to say next

☆This is when it clicks, today is Valentine’s Day

☆Immediately he begins to apologize attempting to explain what happened and how he lost track of time and promising to make it up to you

☆You stop him and tell him that you aren’t angry and tell him to open the box

☆He opens it to find a note stating that you were sorry for forgetting what today was

☆You tell him that you also had plans for today but did not look at the calendar until today, only having time for what is currently in his hands

☆He starts laughing and pulls you into a bear hug, you two hold each other as you laugh over what happened realizing that a day didn't matter, the bond you had was unbreakable and the love you share is stronger than anything life throws at you

* NSFW FROM HERE IF YOU’RE UNDER 18 LOOK AWAY *

☆Getting back into the van all of the awkward air is gone and you can now just enjoy each other's company 

☆You look over at him from the passenger seat and start noticing how good Nero looks today

☆While he rambles on about what take-out food to get for tonight you begin to run your hand over his thigh

☆It takes a minute for him to pick up on what you’re up to but once you begin stroking his cock through his pants he shuts up

☆His grip on the wheel tightens trying to keep focus on the road

☆“You keep this up and we might crash, Sweetheart,” He says aware of how hard he is now

☆Taking this as a challenge more than a warning you undo his belt and he lefts his hips to pull his pants down freeing his cock already dripping with precum

☆You undo your seatbelt hoping to take him into your mouth but your plans come to a halt as you feel him abruptly pull over

☆“Get in the back now,” Nero says as he puts the van in park and takes the keys out of the ignition

☆Quickly you get to the back and undress watching as he does the same

☆Nero lays you on your back taking one of your legs in his hand and bringing it up to his shoulder

☆He spits into his hand and spreads it over his cock before he lines up with your entrance

☆Locking eyes with you he says, “I love you and I never want you to forget that,” as he pushes into you fully

☆The gasp that leaves your lips tells him everything he needs to know 

☆Fucking you in the back of a car was not what either of you planned on for Valentine’s Day but you know he will more than makeup for it when you get home

Author's note: This is my first NSFW post! I have more detailed posts that I am working on and will be writing longer and more detailed stories both SFW and NSFW for individual characters soon <3<3

[lipglossanon]

The Soul’s Desire

═*.·:·.✦ ✧.·:·.*═*.·:·.✧ ༒ ✧.·:·.*═*.·:·.✦ ✧.·:·.*═

Alcoholic/Sweet Stepdad!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader For the first half: @neverland-navi asked for an angsty moment w/stepdad Leon where he hosts dinner and watches reader get hit on (I hope you like it!)

For the second half: anon requested camping sex with stepdad Leon (no specifics so I hope I met expectations 🤭)

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, stepcest, daddy kink, kissing, dirty talk, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, outdoor/public sexual situations

Not proofread ✍️ sorry if the ending is sudden, I made myself stop writing or this was going to get too crazy lmao

Title from Leto’s Headache by Chevelle

═*.·:·.✦ ✧.·:·.*═*.·:·.✧ ༒ ✧.·:·.*═*.·:·.✦ ✧.·:·.*═

For some reason, your stepdad is hosting all of his coworkers for dinner. When asked, he mumbled something about drawing the short straw at the office so you just guess it’s out of his hands at this point. 

You volunteer to help him cook a simple pasta dinner with fresh homemade bread (something you’re quite proud of) that Leon pairs with a nice wine. He helps you out in the kitchen where you tease and poke him until he finally cracks a smile, joining in your conversation and laughter. 

Once everything’s setup the way he likes, he kisses you, slow and sweet, thanking you for your help. 

He tries to usher you off to your room, “You don’t have to hang out with us old men.”

You crowd into his personal space and wrap your arms around the nape of his neck, “But I like hanging out with you.”

He smiles softly down at you, rubbing a thumb underneath your eye, “I know, but I just don’t know how much you’re gonna enjoy us talking shop, honey.”

You shiver and push against him more, “I think it’s really hot to hear you talk about your job.”

His nostrils flare but he keeps his touch soft, “You do, huh?”

You hum and nod, eyes going a little hazy as you look at his mouth, “Mmmhmm.”

He kisses you roughly, hands going down to grab your ass to lift you up on the kitchen counter. 

“Dad,” you gasp when he pulls back to trail kisses across your jaw. 

“So good for me,” he groans, biting a mark into your neck.

The doorbell rings pulling Leon away from you. You pout and wind your fingers into his dress shirt. 

“Don’t go yet,” you kiss his adam’s apple making him groan. 

“I’ve got to,” he kisses you again, gentle and sweet. 

He finally pulls away from you, eyes running down your body and back up, “If you wanna join us, you can, but please change.”

You gaze down at yourself, hard nipples showing through your thin shirt. Biting your lip, you tug the hem as the doorbell rings again. 

“Go on to your room sweetheart,” Leon helps you down from the counter and pats your butt, “you can help me set the table when you’re done.”

“Okay,” you smile at him, pressing up in your tiptoes to kiss his cheek before running off to your room, wanting to change quickly. 

Seeing that Leon was dressed in his usual work attire of pressed slacks and a button down, you throw on a cute top and skirt. Double checking the mirror to make sure it doesn’t look too scandalous and nodding to yourself once it seems guest appropriate, you leave your bedroom. 

When you walk past the dining room, you see a few other men sitting at the table already, chatting with each other. You feel butterflies at having strangers in your home, but since these people work with Leon you try not to let your nerves get to you. 

Leon smiles at you when you enter the kitchen. 

“You look pretty.”

“Thanks,” you duck your head, feeling shy, missing the heated gaze Leon rakes down your body. 

“Can you grab the silverware while I get the plates?”

You move over to where he’s standing and grab the silverware and napkins, following after him as he heads out and into the dining room. 

“Hello, hello. What do we have here?” 

“Is this the elusive daughter, Leon?”

“You never said how grown up she is!”

The men talk over one another as you follow behind Leon and set the forks and knives down at each place setting. You give a shy smile when Leon introduces you to everyone; he has a laid back grin but you can see the tightness around his eyes as you walk around the table. 

Leon guides you back out of the dining room with a hand placed firmly on your back. He seems irritated as you both gather the dinner to place on the table, but you don’t get a chance to question him as he ducks out to grab a whiskey bottle from his home office. 

You wait until he has glasses to go with it and then you both enter the dining room again; Leon hands out the glasses then passes the whiskey around, pouring a healthy glass full for himself, while you place the pasta and bread down in the center of the table. Once everyone’s situated, the dinner passes fairly smoothly. 

You listen in to the conversation, but don’t quite know what they’re talking about only picking up things here and there from Leon complaining about work. The whiskey bottle is nearly empty now and the talk is also following suite. 

“And Leon, how’re you not gonna let us know what a beautiful girl you got here all to yourself?”

You look wide eyed to your stepdad and see the corner of his eye tic as he smiles at the man, “Ah, she’s a homebody, what can I say?”

“Definitely got the body for it!” another man chortles and elbows the guy next to him as they all chuckle. 

Leon gives you an apologetic smile as he claps the man on the back, “C’mon now, we’re in polite company.”

“We’re just yanking your chain,” the man grins, eyes drifting to the other end of the table where you’re sitting. 

You’re thankful that Leon asked you to change as several pairs of eyes unsubtly check you out. Dropping your gaze, you pick at the food on your plate. 

“Say, sweetheart, can I get a refill?”

You look up at Leon and he nods. 

“No problem, sir.”

“Oh ho ho, where’d you get her Leon?” the man hands you his glass with a salacious smile, “need to find me one if you don’t wanna give’er up?”

Leon laughs along with the men as you leave, but you can tell it’s forced. You’re not gone too long, and when you come back in the room the men are all laughing at some joke but quickly quiet down to shoot appreciative looks your way. 

“Thank you, dear,” the man sets his glass down and reaches out to run his hand down your arm, “you’re dad was telling us that you’re home so much, you aren’t dating anyone.”

You nod, “Yeah, I’m not really—“

“Now hold on a minute,” the coworker across from you speaks up, “who said you get to ask her out?”

“Me? Why I’m just—“

“And plus, she needs someone younger,” the coworker smirks over at you, “what’d ya say honey? I can take you out this weekend?”

You laugh nervously and take a step away from the table, “Thank you, but—“

“Now you two better leave it before Leon loses his cool,” a third man chimes in with a laugh drawing everyone’s attention to Leon. 

He’s waving them off with a short laugh, “I know how these guys are. Say, why don’t we get another bottle going before calling it a night?”

All the men agree and Leon nods his head to the door, “Go grab us one, sweetheart.”

You give him a relieved smile as you leave the table, heading to his office to grab another bottle. As you pick it up, a pair of arms wraps around your waist. You jump, breathing in a quick breath and with it Leon’s cologne making you sag against him. 

“M so sorry baby,” he murmurs, kissing your neck, “I didn’t think they’d be this bad.”

“S’okay,” you whisper, turning in his arms the whiskey bottle tucked between you, “they’re just drunk and dumb.”

“What does that make me?” he presses his lips to yours, whiskey coated tongue filling your mouth as you whimper. 

“Say, baby,” he pulls back to take the bottle and set it aside, “what does that make me, hmmm?”

He presses you against the wall and kisses you deeper, hands coming up to lace your fingers together and press them to the wall on either side of your head.

“Just some dumb drunk trying to get my dick wet?” he groans into your mouth, thrusting his tongue past your lips over and over until spit drips down your chin. 

You mewl and rock your hips into his, no room to answer with his tongue fucking into your mouth aggressively. Suddenly, the space in front of you is empty as Leon steps back. 

“Daddy,” you whine, lips wet with spit, “why’d you stop?”

“Got to, honey,” he runs his hands through his hair, frustration etched in his body language, “I’d love to take you apart right now, but I have to worry about my coworkers.”

You sigh and step forward, wrapping your hands around Leon’s neck so you can tease the short hairs at the nape of his neck. 

“You’re such a good, dad,” you kiss his jaw as he groans, “I’m gonna go to bed, if you don’t need me? Kinda tired of being hit on.”

Leon chuckles at that and kisses your cheek, “Okay, sweetheart. I’ll try not to keep them too late.”

You both leave his office and you watch as he slips back into the dining room, loud laughter and conversation flowing out before the door snicks shut. You make your way into your room and change into a faded tee and thin shorts before tiptoeing over into Leon’s bedroom. Once inside, you shut the door and make your way to the bed. 

Climbing under the covers, you hum at the cool sheets touching your skin and just the smell of Leon enveloping your senses. Your clit thrums with want, but you push that aside in order to relax in bed. Hours later, you faintly hear the door open and shut before the sound of feet shuffle along the carpet. 

“Fuck,” Leon whispers loudly when he bumps into his dresser to set his watch on the surface. 

You can hear the shuffle of clothing as he undresses and then the bed dips with his weight. 

“Oh, what a lovely s’prise,” he mumbles, hot palm dragging down your uncovered thigh, “mmm pretty baby, so sweet.”

You blearily open your eyes, sleep trying to pull you down again, “Daddy.”

“Fuck,” he whispers, shifting until he can use both hands to rub across your body, pet your sides, squeeze your breasts, “yeah, baby, ‘m here. My pretty girl, s’all mine huh?”

“Mmhmm,” you hum.

Eye fluttering shut with a sigh, you preen under his attention, letting him grope and squeeze whatever he can reach until you’re mewling with want. 

“Yeah you’re all mine,” he growls, hands squeezing your ass roughly, “god, hated that they fucking stared at you, hit on you. You’re my sweet baby girl.”

“Leon,” you whine, hands going to his hair to tug him into a kiss, “didn’t want any of them.”

“No?” 

You can taste the whiskey he’s been drinking all night making your pussy drip slick in your panties as you suck on his tongue. 

“Mmm ‘m so lucky,” he pants, kissing you messily, “luckiest daddy in the world to have such a sweet daughter.”

You moan and tug his hair, “You’re the best daddy. Want you in my pussy pretty please.”

He makes a pained groan and rolls you on top of him, “Need me to fill you up?”

“Uh huh,” you rock down on the bulge underneath your cunt, “need it so bad.”

“Baby,” he groans as you keep grinding against his half hard cock, “don’t know if I, fuck— I’ve been drinking a lot, don’t know if I can cum for awhile.”

You whimper and dig your nails in his pecs, “Daddy, I still want your cock. Want you to stretch out my little pussy.”

“God,” his head falls back onto the bed with a groan, “me too, fuck, okay c’mon honey put it in. I wanna watch.”

You quickly pull off your shirt, helping Leon do the same with a giggle, before reaching down and tugging his underwear completely off. Moaning, you stroke his cock watching as it stiffens in your hand. You raise up and straddle his waist. 

You go to pull your panties off and he stops you, “Leave’em on.”

Whining, you pull them to the side and let his fat tip smack against your pussy lips, slick dripping down his dick. 

“C’mon be a good girl for me and put it in,” he rubs his hands down your thighs. 

“Dad,” you mewl, pushing the head into your dripping hole and slowly ease yourself down his thick cock. 

You both watch as inch by inch, your pussy greedily sucks his cock into your wet heat. Once he bottoms out and you can sit on his lap, you moan at feeling so full, so spread open. 

“Daddy,” you scratch your nails at his twitching abs, “s’full.”

“I know,” he soothes, palms rubbing across the bulge in your lower belly, “m so deep in that little pussy huh pretty girl.”

You rock forward with a keening moan, grinding his leaking tip against your cervix making sparks of pleasure shoot through your cunt. 

“Yeah I am,” he grunts, dark eyes watching you hungrily, “pretty cunt made to take this fat dick.”

“Yes,” you whimper, eyes rolling back as Leon grabs your hips and makes you grind against his cock, “dad, it’s good.”

“Good, want my girl to know what it feels like to get dicked deep in her cute little pussy,” he growls, hands squeezing your hips so hard they’ll bruise, “love filling up your tight wet cunt.”

“Daddy!” you gasp out, pussy clenching down on his cock at how he’s talking to you, “you’re being dirty.”

“Am I?” he grins teasingly, “is it getting you wet, baby? It sure feels like it. That pussy loves the way I’m talking about her. She’s squeezing me so tight.”

Your clit throbs as he keeps you grinding in place on his cock, not letting you bounce and not thrusting up into you making you a little wild for it. 

“Daddy, want it, want you,” you moan. 

“Fuck me,” he groans, “want daddy to rail your little cunt? Breed your cute pussy til it’s full?”

“Yes, yes yes,” you try to rock your hips but Leon’s grip keeps you stationary making your pussy walls flutter and pulse around his dick. 

“Gonna have to just stay like this then,” he laughs, “I drank too much, sweet girl, gonna take a while to cum.”

You shudder, breath coming out shakily, “Daddy, I need t’cum.”

“Aww,” his hands finally move away from your hips, skin indented from his fingers,  to skim up your ribs and grab your breasts, “can you cum from riding my cock, sweetheart? No touching that cute clit.”

Your hips are moving as you nod quickly, hands bracing against his chest, “Yes, yes, thank you daddy, feels so good.”

You make sure to rub his tip against your g-spot every time you roll your hips down, thighs trembling as his cock kisses your cervix with every bounce, pussy gliding down with ease. It feels like forever that you just ride Leon, swiveling your hips just right so he’s rubbing that spongy spot in your cunt that has you moaning. 

“Look at my sweet girl,” he smiles widely, crows feet wrinkling at the corners, “god, love you so much, honey.”

Your hips stutter as you moan, “Love you too, daddy. Love you so much.”  

His hips thrust up, meeting you halfway making you cry out. 

“Think I’m ready to fuck you nice and deep,” he laughs up at you, pulling you down to roll you onto your back, cock sliding back into you, “breed this pussy like she needs.”

“Leon!” you gasp out as his dick bullies back into your cunt repeatedly.

Your pussy squelches loudly as his hips picks up speed, pistoning into your sopping wet hole, pelvis grinding down on your clit.

“Couldn’t wait,” he kisses you, still tasting of alcohol making you clench down on him, “was gonna let you cum that way, but I need you too much sweetheart.”

“Dad, please,” you scratch at his shoulders, “wanna cum.”

“I’ve got you baby,” he kisses your cheek, slipping a hand between your bodies to rub firmly at your slippery clit.

You choke out a whine and wrap your legs around his waist, hips pressing down into his thrusts. Leon groans and kisses you, tongue lapping and sucking at your own. A few more rough passes of his fingers over your sensitive bud and your pussy clamps down on his cock as you climax. He keeps softly rubbing at your clit as he fucks deeper into your pussy.

“That’s it, such a good girl,” he whispers against your lips, “gonna make me cum, sweetheart. Fuck, that’s it, milk me, help daddy cum in your hot little pussy.”

A high pitched moan leaves your throat, toes curling as Leon stretches your orgasm out until your thighs are shaking. He thrusts a few more times before burying his cock deep into your fluttering walls and spilling his hot cum. Slowly, he moves his hand away from your clit to rub your side. He kisses you softly, letting you both come down from your orgasms into the sleepy afterglow.

He pulls out of your cunt with a low groan, laying down next to you, “So good to me, don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You giggle and stroke his stubbled jaw, “You’re so cute.”

Smiling, he grabs your hand and kisses the inside of your wrist, “Think you’re the cute one, baby.”

He laces your fingers together and pulls you into his chest, “Can’t believe I have work in a few hours.”

“Call in sick,” you sleepily mumble against his skin.

He laughs and rubs his hands down your back, “Mmm wish I could. Everyone else will be there even though we all got drunk tonight.”

You hum in reply, but drift off to sleep with Leon’s warm hands petting you.

Hours later, Leon’s alarm wakes you up, but he shushes you back to sleep. The next time you’re waking up it’s past eight and the sun is out. Yawning, you roll over and check your phone. You feel a pang of sympathy for Leon since he definitely went to work hung over and exhausted. You shoot him a quick text and get up to start the day.

It passes quickly for you and before long you hear the sound of keys in the door. Smiling to yourself, you get up from the couch to meet Leon in the hallway. 

“Hi,” you step up on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek, “have a good day?”

“Could’ve been better,” he murmurs, pressing you against the wall and kissing you deeply, “how was yours?”

“Could’ve been better,” you giggle as he presses kisses along your neck.

“Poor thing,” he coos.

He steps away with a sigh before going any further, looking apologetic, “I have something to ask you, and you can say no okay?”

Frowning at him, you drag out your reply, “Oookay?”

“I know it’s last minute, but someone had the bright idea to do a family retreat this weekend. Like a camping trip,” he pinches the bridge of his nose, “we’d leave tomorrow morning and stay until Monday.”

You shrug, “I’m fine with that.”

“Are you sure, honey? It’s going to be hot and bug infested, not to mention those jackoffs from work.”

You laugh, “I’m sure, besides everyone else will be busy with their families, too right? It’ll be fun! Like a mini vacation.”

Sighing again, Leon gives you a small grin, “Yeah, maybe so.”

═*.·:·.✧ ༒ ✧.·:·.*═*

Leon is pulling the cooler from the trunk as you coat yourself in bug spray.

“Okay maybe the fun starts once we get the tent setup,” you concede with a small cough from using the spray.

He snorts a laugh at you, but is nice enough to not say anything. Aside from getting lost on the drive up here, almost hitting a deer, then actually hitting a hubcap in the middle of the road, and lastly seeing someone get rear ended in the lane next to you, your nerves are a little shot—and this place isn’t helping with it looking like something out of Friday the 13th.

Leon rubs your arm, “Okay?”

You smile up at him, “Yeah, just taking it in.”

A smile spreads across his face, “You’re something else. C’mon, we just follow this trail to the camp they setup. They have a small itinerary for us today. Think it’s just some kinda hike near the lake.”

“That sounds nice,” you fall into step with him as the trail is wide enough to walk side by side.

You both take in the scenery and lush foliage, breathing in the clean air of dirt and trees. Before too long, you can see people setting up tents as well as prepping several picnic tables with food.

Leon guides you over to one of the picnic tables. He introduces you to a few other people in the company as he grabs the welcome packet. 

“You two can set up anywhere in the perimeter,” one woman points to the map on the front of packet, “anything outside that might land you a fine.”

“Thanks, Martha,” Leon nods, “alright, you pick us out a spot, sweetheart.”

You take the map from his hands and point to a little copse of trees, “This seems like it would be nice. Shady, ya know?”

His lips quirk up but he just nods, eyes sparkling, “Shady, huh. Lead the way then.”

You follow the rather crude map until you’re both far enough away that you can only hear bird song. 

“Sure you didn’t pick this place out for anything other than shade?” Leon murmurs in your ear, squeezing your ass, “seems awful far from everyone.”

You gasp and twist to face him, “Dad!”

He presses you against the rough bark of the tree behind you and kisses you, slow and deep. You drop the map on the ground to wind your hands through his hair, sighing into his languid kisses. 

You tug him closer, rocking your hips up against his, kissing even more sloppily as you feel yourself getting wet. 

“You feeling needy, honey?” Leon whispers hotly in your ear, fingers dipping below the leg of your shorts, “fuck, let me finger that pretty pussy.”

“Dad, please,” you whimper parting your thighs, leaning against the tree for better balance. 

His fingers slip under the band of your panties and stroke across your slick pussy lips to come up and circle your clit. 

“So naughty, letting me play with you like this,” he nips your earlobe, “daddy’s dirty little girl.”

You whine and part your legs further, “Please, daddy!”

“Hush,” he kisses your neck, sliding his middle and ring finger into your dripping hole, “she’s so wet for me, sweetheart. Doesn’t feel like it’s gonna take long.”

He laughs softly as his fingers easily find and rub against your g-spot as his thumb circles your slippery clit. You’re gasping and moaning, thighs shaking with the effort of keeping yourself open and on two feet. 

“Daddy, daddy, g’nna cum,” you mewl, rocking down into his fingers as they start to pump in and out of your fluttering pussy walls. 

“Then cum for me, let daddy make you feel good,” he kisses you, tongue licking into your mouth to swallow up your moans. 

One last rubbing grind to your clit has you cumming all around his fingers, slick dripping down his wrist to land on the forest floor. He slowly pulls his hand away, licking the slick off of his fingers with a groan. 

“Always taste so good.”

“Want me to suck you off?” you sway into him, legs shaky from your orgasm. 

He kisses the top of your head and wipes his hand off on his pants, “We’ll save it for later, baby. Really need to put this tent up before we go on that hike.”

You sigh and nuzzle into his neck, “If you say so.”

He pets your sides for a moment before pushing you to stand up straight, “If you want, I’ll let you read out the directions and I’ll put up the tent.”

“Sounds good to me,” you giggle, smacking a kiss to his cheek.

Luckily, Leon has had some experience with camping so your little area is setup in next to no time. Which works out perfectly since someone sent their kid to fetch you two for the hike about to start. 

Leon stows your sleeping bags and backpacks into the tent then walks next to you back up to the main campsite. After a quick safety spiel from the forestry guide, the whole group is off. Leon gets roped into a conversation with a man you recognize from the dinner party. You notice his wife? Girlfriend? next to him and so strike up your own small talk with her. 

She happens to be his girlfriend and is nice to talk with, if a little distant. Before you get a chance to even ask her name, she’s being pulled away by Leon’s coworker as he jogs to catch up with some other man. 

“Then there were two,” Leon nudges your arm with a wink. 

Looking around you notice that you and he are the last in line, a little ways away from everyone as they chat and trample down the path following the guide. 

The path loops down and around the edge of the woods before it opens up next to a lake. The guide stops for a minute and talks about the species native to the area and then proceeds forward. Leon tugs your arm and you two hang back together and watch as the rest of the crowd disappears down the trail. 

He guides your back to press up against the tree overlooking the lake.

“Shh, shh,” Leon’s mouth whispers against your ear, “let me kiss that pretty pussy, sweet girl.”

Nodding, you wrap both hands over your mouth to stop any noises. Leon nips your ear and drops to his knees, hands coming up to undo the button of your shorts.

“What’s gotten into you?” you giggle.

He shrugs, “Just want you so much, baby.”

He tugs your shorts down to your knees leaving your panties on. Groaning, he pushes his face against your cunt, licking you through your underwear. In no time, your panties are soaked with his spit and you’re slick, your eyes fluttering shut as he laps at your clit through the cloth.

“Gonna make you cum just like this,” he mouths at the outline of your pussy lips, “get my pretty girl all messy.”

A moan is muffled by your hands, but you still buck your hips towards his mouth. His dilated eyes watch you hungrily as he goes back to licking and sucking your panty clad pussy. Leaving one hand covering your mouth, you let the other reach down to tangle in his hair.

Groaning, he licks harder and sucks your clit. You grind your pussy against his face as his hands come up to grip your hips, helping you hump against his mouth.

He looks gorgeous, pupils blown and hair messy as he lathes his tongue against your pussy. Your eyes drag down his body and you whimper to see the hard outline of his cock.

You pull your hand away just far enough to whisper, “Gonna cum, gonna cum, dad, please,” before clamping it back over your mouth so you won’t make any more noise.

Leon reaches up and grabs the hem of your panties, pulling them taut so your clit and pussy lips rub harder against the fabric. He laps at the outline of your sensitive bud and roughly sucks it into his mouth as best he can. He yanks your panties up again and it grinds your clit against his tongue just right making you cum, gushing slick into your underwear and all down your thighs.

When Leon finally pulls away, you’re so dizzy that he has to hold you up. He carefully pulls your shorts back up and buttons them, then adjusts his own hard on so it’s not noticeable. 

“Better catch up before someone comes looking,“ he presses a kiss to your cheek as your dazed eyes just stare up at him.

“‘Kay,” you murmur, letting him guide you back out to the path that leads back into camp.

The rest of the afternoon passes by smoothly, just polite conversation with Leon’s coworkers and their families. When the sun sets and everyone decides to roast marshmallows, you watch as Leon chats with some guy on the other side of the fire pit. 

You really take in his strong jaw and neck as he turns to the side to keep talking. Biting your lip, your gaze washes over his broad shoulders and thick arms down to his toned waist and strong thighs. You squeeze your own thighs together as you stare at his hands, watching as his fingers drum against his lap.

When you finally look up, you can see Leon looking straight back at you. You give him a little shrug and a flirty smile. You watch as he finishes up the conversation with the other guy and make his way over to you. 

“You tired, sweetheart? We can head back to the tent,” his eyes are dark.

“Yeah,” you murmur, raising your hand for him to take and pull you to your feet.

A few folks call out goodnight with you and Leon replying as you walk off. Leon only keeps a hand on your upper back as you make the long trek over to your tent. But once inside, he’s pressing you down onto the downy sleeping back and kissing you senseless.

You whine and slip your clothes off, grabbing his hand to press it against your slick pussy.

“Feel how wet I am, daddy?”

He groans, head falling against your shoulder as his fingers rub against your pussy lips before pinching your clit.

“You’re soaked,” he bites your neck, “fuck. You been like this all night?”

“All afternoon,” you whisper, “since you made me cum at the lake.”

“Fuck,” he kisses you one last time and then shoves you further up the sleeping back to settle between your legs.

“Daddy,” you mewl trying hard to keep your voice down, hands tangled in his thick hair as he noses along your cunt kissing your clit, “they’re gonna hear us.”

He grins at you, eyes warm in the low light, “Then better be quiet, honey.”

You moan spreading your thighs even wider; he chuckles at you and licks a long wet stripe along your pussy, broad tongue parting your puffy lips, slick dripping all over his sleeping bag. 

“Gonna eat you out so good, baby,” he groans kissing the hood of your clit “been wanting to bury my face in your hot little cunt all day.”

“Dad,” you whine, hips arching into his mouth, “this is so bad,” but you don’t do anything to stop him as he pushes his face further into your soaked pussy. 

The excitement of getting caught ramps up your arousal making you hump your stepdad’s face harder, dragging slick all over his mouth. 

His nose bumps your clit making your thighs clamp around his head, stopping him from being able to pull away. He groans, eyes heatedly staring up the line of your body as his tongues fucks into your drippy hole. 

You tug and pull his hair when he licks into your cunt, rubbing his face further into your pussy lips to spread you open for his mouth. His big hands wrap around the outside of your thighs and he squeezes tightly, urging you to thrust down onto his tongue. 

“So good,” you moan, head tipped back as your chest arches outward, hips rolling down into his plush mouth, “I’ve got the best daddy in the whole world.”

He growls into your cunt making your thighs spasm, pussy walls clenching down on his slippery tongue. Your eyes roll back, hips rocking down quicker as Leon greedily eats you out. His tongue slips out of your hole with a dirty, wet noise; his hands push your thighs open so he can raise his head. 

“My perfect girl, wanna fuck you so loud all of’em know not to even look at you,” he sucks on your clit, spit dripping down your pussy lips. 

“Dad,” you sigh, rocking up into his plush mouth, “‘m all yours, love you so much.”

He groans, pulling away from your pussy to crawl up your body, kissing you hotly. 

“Let’s get in the sleeping bag,” he murmurs, “be a little less noisy.”

“Mmm okay,” you sigh, wiggling to pull the sleeping bag up underneath you.

Leon helps you, little laughs escaping as you both struggle with the slippery material until you’re pressed under Leon’s heavy weight as he zips up the side. 

“Daddy,” you moan, “this is so hot.”

“Yeah?” he groans, kissing you again, “like that daddy’s got you trapped all nice and snug for him to fill your cute cunt?”

“Yes,” you whine, feeling Leon shift his boxers down. 

When you relax against the ground of the tent, Leon’s hard cock nudges against your pudgy clit making you dig your nails into his shoulders. 

“Oh god,” you pant, spreading your legs the meager distance you can in the constraints of the sleeping bag. 

“Fuck,” Leon’s eyes are dark as they look down at you.

He rocks his hips down, dragging the fat tip through your slick until he’s nudging against your hole. 

“Want it, daddy,” your nails dig further into his muscled shoulders, “fill me up, please.”

He kisses you to muffle the sounds you both make as he presses his dripping cock into your clenching pussy. 

He finally bottoms out, a painfully delicious stretch that has your pussy milking his cock already. 

“Perfect,” his hips stutter forward to bury himself even deeper inside your wet heat, “perfect girl.”

“Dad, you’re so big,” your eyes flutter shut as his pelvis grinds against your clit.

“God don’t say that, I’ll cum way too soon,” he laughs, kissing your cheek, “got me acting like a teenager again.”

“Mmm that’s not a bad thing,” you cheekily smile up at him, “just means we can go again, right?”

He groans kissing you hard, tongue slipping into your mouth. As you’re making out, you rock your hips up only for Leon to sink more of his weight down on you, pressing you into the sleeping bag making you mewl.  

“Can’t move too much,” he whispers against your ear, “too noisy, gonna have to let me take my time, pretty girl.”

“Please, Leon,” you whine, trying to move your hips but unable to, making you pulse around his dick, “need it.”

He laughs sweetly, “I do too. You can’t even imagine how hard it is just to sit here and let your pretty pussy cockwarm me. 

Fuck,” he grunts grinding down against you, “gripping me so tight, like you need me to cum in you.”

“I do,” you whimper, nails scratching at his back, “need you to cum, daddy.”

“So sweet to me,” he kisses your neck softly, “might stay like this all night. Just stretch out your little pussy and nothing else.”

You bite his shoulder to muffle the loud moan in your throat. His cock kicks and throbs in your pussy as he rocks softly in and out. 

“God, don’t know if I could handle that,” he groans, “wanna cum in you too much.”

“Yes, yes please,” you babble against the skin of his shoulder, kissing the bite mark, “want you so bad, daddy.”

“I know,” he coos, nipping at your neck, “you let daddy be so dirty with you today, honey. It’s the least I can do, right?”

“Uh huh,” you drool against him as he grinds and rocks harder into your squelching pussy. 

“Did you like getting fingered by daddy?” he sucks a bruise lower on your neck, “I would’ve kept going even if someone walked up.”

Your legs kick out as he covers your palm to muffle your whining. 

“You like that huh,” he grins, “yeah and when I was eating your cute pussy by the lake, anyone could see what I was doing,” his voice drops to a low whisper, “they could all see I was eating my daughter’s wet little cunt.”

Your eyes rolls back in your head as his pelvis rubs against your clit just right, pussy clamping down on Leon as you cum around his cock. 

“Baby,” he groans, palm pressing harder onto your mouth to shield the sounds you’re making. 

You slump bonelessly into the downy sleeping bag, muscles limp from your orgasm. Leon’s cock throbs in your pussy making you whine. 

“S’good, daddy,” you smile at him, “wanna stay like this all night.”

“Fuck,” he moans, pressing his face into your neck, “me too, baby.”

A loud shuffling in the distance makes you both pause. Even though the footsteps tread closer and closer, Leon keeps rocking his hips against you, cock slipping in and out of your soaked hole making you clench and pulse around him. 

You whine and he kisses you heatedly, groaning into your mouth as he licks past your lips. Eyes rolling back as he softly fucks you, you feel another orgasm wash over your body. Scratching at his back, Leon’s weight keeps you pinned down so you can’t really thrash around like you want.

Leon’s gaze is hazy when he pulls back. You both hear several more sets of footsteps in the underbrush as well as people softly talking.

“God if they only knew I was fucking your pretty pussy.”

You whine behind his palm, tongue lapping at the salty skin. 

“They’d think I’m so kind of pervert, fucking my daughters cute little cunt and liking it,” he grins as he feels your pussy squeeze on his dick, “you like this dirty old man dicking you down, honey?”

Your nails have to be drawing blood from how hard you’re clawing at Leon’s shoulders. Rocking your hips into his, you try your best to make him feel as out of control as you do. 

You’re moaning his name behind his hand but try to keep your voice down, still hyper aware of the people walking out past your tent. Nothing changes so you feel like you’re safe enough to whimper up at him, tears slipping from your eyes from the pleasure Leon is wringing out of your body. 

“I know,” he coos in your ear, “feels so good. I’m gonna fill you up in front of all these people.”

Your cunt pulses and throbs around his cock, fluttering walls sucking him in deeper into your hole. Leon continues to rut into your sopping wet pussy, thrusts getting harder and harder. 

The people outside are walking all around your area talking quietly, totally oblivious to your dad fucking you stupid inside this flimsy tent. 

“Ready? Huh? You ready for daddy to fill this warm wet pussy full of cum? Breed your hot cunt in front of complete strangers?” his tongue dips into your ear making you squeal into his palm, “wanna make me a real daddy?”

You’re going to cum again, just from Leon talking like that as he fucks your pussy. He raises his head to look into your eyes. 

“Such a good girl,” he murmurs, voice low and smoky, “good girl, letting me knock you up. C’mon, cum all over me again so I can cream your pussy.”

Mewling low in your throat, you feel your orgasm tightening in your lower belly. Leon snaps his hips quicker into your clenching heat. The voices and footsteps are faint now, everyone having walked past your tent headed to wherever. 

Leon pushes the top of the sleeping bag off with a grunt and lets go of your mouth. He grabs your legs and press them up to your chest. He rocks his hips deep into your cunt. 

“Just keep quiet, I’m almost finished,” he grins down at you playfully, “don’t know if they can hear you or not, honey.”

You whine freely, hands scratching against Leon’s pecs, “Dad, you’re gonna make me cum again.”

“Am I? Poor thing,” he starts to rub and pinch your nipples, “daddy hasn’t gotten to cum once today, what number is this for you?”

Eyes slipping shut as one of his hands slips down to your pussy to tease your clit, you moan softly, “I can’t r-remember. Daddy, please.”

“Okay, okay,” he soothes, “cum for me, honey.”

His fingers rub against your clit more firmly as he grinds deeper into your cunt. Your hands wildly move up to yank him into a sloppy kiss, muffling the wailing cry that leaves your throat as you climax. Stars dance behind your eyelids and your toes curl in on themselves while your orgasm buzzes through your body. 

Leon groans into the kiss, spit dripping from your mouths as he buries his cock into your pussy and stilling. Hot, sticky cum spurts from his fat tip, filling your pussy so full that it drips around his throbbing dick. 

You make out the entire time he cums inside you, moans and sighs traded between kiss swollen lips until his soft cock finally slips out of your drippy cunt. 

“Perfect, pretty baby,” he pulls away, gently laying your legs flat.

He flops down tiredly next to you on the sleeping bag. 

“You wore me out,” he teases, poking your side.

“Dad,” you whine, pushing his hand away, “you started it.”

“Nah, it was definitely you,” he tickles your side making you giggle and move away only to be yanked back with Leon’s arm around your waist. 

He kisses you sweetly all over your face before pressing a fleeting kiss to your lips. 

“Guess we should get some shut eye before tomorrow dawns bright and early.”

You groan, “Please not too bright or early.”

“No promises,” he chuckles into your hair as he drops a kiss on your head, “but I’ll do my best to wake you up in a nice way.”

“Good,” you yawn, “I’m holding you to that.” 

[macaulaytwins]

TSH Thanksgiving

Francis hosts at his country house, provides all the wine, is running around his house all day readjusting candleholders and throw pillows and the silverware so they are aesthetically placed to his liking, refuses to eat the sweet potatoes, steps outside with Henry after the main meal for a smoke (would have done it at the table if Julian wasn’t there), is dressed absolutely to the nines

Henry wanted to host at his apartment—as Julian is invited—but ultimately acquiesces to the country house for the space, isn’t much of a cook but says he’ll bring rolls from a bakery he enjoys, drives in on the day in question with Bunny, gives Francis his opinion on the decor if asked, reads in the sitting room until Julien arrives and the meal begins, carves the turkey

Richard rides with Francis, Camilla, and Charles to the country house the day before, brought canned cranberry sauce, stays out of the dining and living room because Francis is stressing him out, is the taste tester for the twins who are cooking the bulk of the meal, nurses a generous glass of bourbon all day, is the designated potato masher, made sure to meticulously iron his shirt

Bunny rides over the day of with Henry, insisted upon bringing stuffing because he doesn’t trust anyone else to make it the way he likes it, sneaks one of Henry’s rolls much to Henry’s annoyance, day drinks with Charles and Richard, was going to finish up on some homework before the meal but falls asleep in his chair, reaches across to grab sides instead of asking for them and almost catches his sleeve on fire

Camilla is in charge of making the sides so she makes green beans, stuffing (she likes her grandparents’ recipe more than Bunny’s), sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes, and roast carrots, sneaks glasses of wine from Francis before the meal, excuses herself before Julian arrives so she can change into a nice blouse for the occasion, keeps up easiest with Julian’s topic changes, picked the music for the evening

Charles prepares the turkey, starts out cooking very meticulously but he gets more lax throughout the process with every drink refill, hovers over Camilla’s shoulder to make sure she got ingredient proportions right, keeps telling Francis that everything he adjusted looks the exact same as it did before, was going to go smoke with Francis but decided against it when Henry went out too (dramatic)

Julian arrives right at 4pm with a nice pumpkin pie that he did not make, compliments the table setup and pretends not to notice Francis’s shoulders slump in relief, gives the toast at the beginning of dinner, will change the conversation topic if it veers into something he finds disinteresting, leaves so he can be home at a crisp 9:30pm

[writeroutoftime]

Could you write where you were Carmys high school crush and he sees you again and gets so shy bc he thought you liked his brother brother but you actually had a crush on him ?

words: 0.7k

a/n: okay, this is set somewhere during season 2 before the opening of The Bear…anyway please enjoy!! (and maybe let me know what you think?)

oOoOo

It was a gray and cloudy day in Chicago as Carmy leant against the rough bricks of the building, slowly taking a drag of his cigarette. He was so caught up in menu ideas, dining room setups, and how everything was going to get fucking paid for, he didn’t recognize the figure that had stopped right in front of him.

“Carmen? Carmy Berzatto is that you?” a voice spoke from above him, sweet and melodic.

He squinted up, eyes opening suddenly as his brain put the mental puzzle together. “y-y/n.” he choked out, throwing his cigarette to the ground and quickly stomping it out. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m back in Chicago for a while.” you shrugged half-heartedly. “Can I give you a hug? I’m gonna give you a hug.” you told him before you launched forward and wrapped your arms around his frame.

Carmy found himself melting into your touch, transported back to high school when you had been one of his closest friends. So many afternoons spent in the dining room of The Beef, laughing at each other and dreaming about what you would do when you were finally free from high school. All that time Carmy had the biggest crush on you, but stayed silent, always assuming you had a crush on Mikey instead.

“But enough about me.” you insisted, stepping away to give him his space once more and pulling him from his thoughts. “How are you? What have you been up to, Mr. ‘one of the best chefs in the country’?”   

Carmy felt a blush spread across his face at your praise. “You know, pretty good. Uh, it was definitely hard there after Mikey, but things, things are good. Gonna be opening up a new restaurant soon.” he shrugged, as calmly as if he had told you about going to the dentist.

“What? Carmy that’s amazing!” you shouted, ignoring the stares of the people of Chicago walking by. “I’m so proud of you! And I know that Mikey would be too.”

“Thanks.”

A moment of silence passed, more nostalgic rather than uncomfortable. You couldn’t help the way your heart skipped a beat over seeing Carmy again. It was easy to tell how worn out he looked, and there was a pang of guilt over your lack of connections the past few years. Resolved to be better, you held your hand out expectantly.

“Give me your phone.” you said followed by an exasperated look when Carmy simply stared back at you. “Fate brought us back together, but I don’t want this to be it, so give me your phone and I’ll give you my number.”

Realization clicked in his mind, and Carmy fumbled for his phone. “Uh, yeah, sure. Here you go.” A few taps later and the phone was safely back in his hands, and his grip was tight as if it had suddenly become his most prized position.

“I have to go now, but I’ll talk to you later. And I can’t wait to eat at your new restaurant!” you told him, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before strolling away.

The rest of the day, Carmy fell into a pattern of typing out a text, hovering his finger over the send button, before chickening out. He briefly considered asking for Sydney's or Sugar's help, but he knew Richie or someone would over here and then the entire staff would be giving him shit over it. Finally, as the night carried on, Carmy said fuck it and sent a text.

8:50, carmy: hey, nice seeing you today 8:53, y/n: I'm glad we ran into each other 8:54, y/n: and that you agreed to me giving you my number 8:57, carmy: yeah? 9:01, y/n: yeah, you were one of my best friends, and I want us to be close again 9:01, y/n: plus, I had the biggest crush on you back in high school so 18-year-old me would be freaking out now. I thought it was so obvious lol.

Carmy couldn't stop himself from reading your last message, three times over. You had a crush on him then? Maybe, just maybe you still did. Fuck he thought, how was he gonna respond?

[aquagustd]

lust for life - PJM

your summer holiday takes an interesting turn when Park Jimin, your step brother’s best friend, barges into your room asking for directions around your parents’ new home, dripping in the same charm and allure you remember from all those years ago, still willing to teach you a few things.

⤷ lust for life masterlist

pairing — stepbro’s best friend!jimin x reader

genre/rating — R | smut, fluff, slight angst, fwb2l

word count — 7.4K

play — lust for life by lana del rey, the weeknd

warnings/tags — summer holiday, friends with benefits, rich kids au, college au, strong language, small age gap, sorta weird family dynamics, inexperienced!reader, flirty jimin, he has a filthy mouth, blond jimin, sexual discovery, corruption kink, loss of innocence kinda, insecurities, virgin!reader but she’s a secret freak lol, bickering, her fave color is pink, vaping, teasinggg, mouth fetish?, slight coercion, fifty shades mention, alcohol consumption, mentions of drugs, mentions of masturbation, explicit smut — food play, first kiss, dirty talk, hair pulling, tongue sucking, biting, oral (f), multiple orgasms, grinding, cum eating, overstimulation, cum on stomach

note: SHDJSJ finally !! i hope you guys enjoy this jimin 🫦 he’s honestly straight out of my dreams 😩

italics are y/n’s thoughts

It’s the first night of summer and you’re alone.

Well, not really, if you count the fake excitement and curt greetings shared by the sea of sybarites, holding a metaphorical knife behind the other’s back even as they exchange somewhat fond smiles – you’re not alone.

Sat at the scarcely populated area of the courtyard, observing your mother as she hops from table to table, ensuring that her guests are comfortable and entertained through the night. Of course, you don’t mind sharing a table with the oldies since no one would bother to approach their table and you’d have some reprieve from your mother’s punitive stare, urging you to ‘behave like a host and entertain.’ But you’d much rather listen to Mr. Jon’s tall tales for the eighteenth time than entertain a bunch of backstabbing idiots.

Lips pressed to the edge of glass, you drink up the last drops of champagne, glad that you found this spot, otherwise you’d be forced to engage in conversation with people your age and that’s an experience you’ve been dreading since the words ‘housewarming party’ left your mother’s lips. You knew that little is something she can never do, so when you saw the setup, amazed that your own backyard was transformed into an 18th century ball setup, only with seventeen tables lining the edges for the guests to dine, you weren’t surprised.

Although it isn’t entirely a terrible night. You spot a few cuties but don’t look more than twice because if they’re here, attending your parents’ housewarming party – an excuse to brag about their new mansion and the yard and everything else – they’re guaranteed to be insufferable snobs.

If Farah had decided not to go on that trip to Germany with her parents, you wouldn’t be alone, probably getting up to shit in your room or finishing up the chocolate-dipped strawberries.

That reminds you…you straighten your posture to get a better look at the snack table, cursing when you accidentally make eye contact with your mother. She excuses herself from her table, charging toward you like a bull with its eyes set on the blaring red target.

The target being you…grabbing another glass of champagne to busy yourself but it’s too late.

“Good evening,” she’s speaking with that customer service voice, the one you hate, directed at the other guests seated at the table which is no longer your safe space. “___.”

You spin around, feigning innocence, “hmm?”

She hooks her hand around your elbow, stiletto-shaped nails digging into your flesh as she drags you from the table to the side, speaking through gritted teeth.

“What do you think our guests would say? Doc’s daughter can’t entertain—”

“Technically,” you yank out of her grip, sneakily pulling her to the snack table, “I’m not Doc’s daughter, you’re Doc’s wife.”

She pinches the bridge of her nose, sighing with annoyance, “not this tonight. Grow up, ___.”

You fold your arms, tapping the skin she had just bruised with her talons, “I’ll grow up when you stop treating me like a child, Mum. I don’t see you tailing around Doc and—”

She knows you’re talking about your stepbrother Doc this time and not her husband Doc, but she still dismisses your statement and places a tender hand on your lower back.

“Come, just walk with me for a bit and then I’ll let you go. Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight? I saw a few eyes on you when you walked in.”

You hook your arm in hers, a bored eyeroll accompanying your words, “I didn’t, was too busy wondering why you invited Mr. Kim and his wife when he literally threw you under the bu—”

A shout of your mother’s name has her rooting you to one spot, taking you with her as she spins around to flash a smile to none other than—

“Mr. Kim!”

She leans forward to accept Mr. Kim’s wife’s air kisses, eyes falling on you once she’s done showering them with her half-hearted praise. They’re both dripping in jewellery, teeth as white as the pearls on her neck.

“This is my daughter, ___.”

He has the same eyes as his son, it’s a shame they don’t hold the same emotion, all you see is malice behind his. They tip their heads in your direction, tight-lipped smiles in place as their gazes drift from your feet to your face.

“It’s lovely to finally meet you,” he beams, tucking his hand in his suit pants pocket, “we’ve only heard wonderful things about you.”

You scoff. Wish I could say the same for you.

That earns you a painful jab in the ribs from your mother, “of course, it’s fantastic that she and Namjoon have grown so close, no? Since they will probably graduate together and join the family business…”

You’re aware that your mother is just fishing them for information, wondering if Namjoon would join their business after he graduates like you since that’s pretty much been the plan for you…from the day you took your first breath.

“Ah,” Mr. Kim chuckles, the sound a little familiar to you, “I would have to consult with him first and get back to you on that, since he changes his mind every few days.”

It isn’t long before your mother gets distracted by another family of leeches you’re surprised to see at the party, enduring awkward introductions and her justification as to why you’re not married yet at the ripe age of twenty-three.

“She’s grown to be a beautiful young woman,” Mrs. Park compliments, taking a lock of your hair between her fingers.

Your mother blushes as if the praise was directed at her, “she has,” her eyes skate behind the friendly couple, a question on her lips.

Mr. Park nods to himself, “Jimin should be around here somewhere. Must be with Doc.”

Very poorly, you hide the feeling of excitement behind a yawn, enthusiasm for this night to be over diminishing now that you know –  Jimin is here…Park Jimin, your brother’s best friend who you haven’t seen since your sixteenth birthday.

God, what does he look like now? Is he still close with your brother? How will he react when he sees you? Will you even get to see him?

It’s funny how over the years, you even forgot about the possibility of him returning someday with your brother. And now you’re starting to hate this night a little less.

Somehow you manage to slip away, only to bump into another blood-sucking Kim.

“Wow, what a surprise to see you here.”

You groan, about to turn around but decide against it since your mother has already noticed your absence.

Seokjin rounds the drinks table, nudging into your shoulder with the side of his arm, thick navy-blue suit tailored perfectly to his lithe frame.

He grabs a bottle of beer, dusting of the shards of ice with the side of his hand while you’re scanning the table, feeling his stare burn into the side of his face. Despite knowing that you enjoy his brother’s company far better than his, he sticks around, irritating you with his ridiculously perfect face.

“Where’s your husband?”

You sigh deeply, waving your very empty ring finger in front of his face.

“That’s funny, shouldn’t you be married?”

“Shouldn’t you be writing your will?”

He laughs, shoulders shaking with the action and by the way he bares his teeth, you know he’s hardly offended by your statement, not as offended as you that is. You don’t believe that he’s been out of the country for so long that he didn’t have a chat with his brother. Your best friend would’ve definitely informed his brother had there been a wedding.

He’s doing it to annoy you.

“Why didn’t Namjoon come tonight?”

“He stayed in to study,” Seokjin sniggers, raising a long finger in your direction, “that’s why I’m surprised to see you out tonight, shouldn’t you be studying too?”

Ignoring his question, you tread a bit to the right, hoping he gets the hint that the conversation is over. Thankfully, the snacks table is only a few feet away from the drinks table, so you get your share of chocolate-dripped strawberries and some fresh cream on a plate, ready to make your sly escape but even with the clamour behind you – you still hear the crunch of grass behind you.

“Where’s Doc, your brother? Didn’t see him around tonight.”

“I don’t know, why don’t you ask his PA?”

Seokjin’s eyes widen, “he got a PA now? Damn.”

You level him with a frustrated stare, “I was being sarcastic.”

He grins, “I know.”

Dashing past you, you nearly drop your plate of strawberries and cream as he bumps into your shoulder, balancing several bottles of beer in his arms, disappearing into the crowd.

“Well, if you see him let him know I was looking for him!

Muttering to yourself, you decide to take the staircase around the pool into the house, breathing a heavy sigh of relief once you’re inside since your mother wouldn’t want to leave her guests out alone to look for you inside. But your relief is replaced with the same tension from earlier when you spot Julian and the rest of your brother’s friends barging in through the backdoor, the lounge echoing with their whoops and hollers.

As swift as you can be, you make a run for the staircase, yelping when you’re caught by an arm around your neck.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Mum’s looking for you,” you grit, wriggling out of his hold, “I think I’ve done my fair share of socialising for tonight. It’s your turn now.”

He plucks a strawberry from your plate, ignoring your protests as he lets you go, flinging his blazer over his shoulder.

“She’s gonna come looking for you,” he warns, blocking your path up the stairs.

“That’s my problem, just keep your mouth shut and she won’t know where to look.”

He tsks, gesturing for his friends to follow him up the staircase. You gasp, annoyed that he’s not at the party when you had to hear a lecture before it even started. He doesn’t even seem the slightest bit worried.

To your horror, Julian waves a baggie in front of your face, “wanna join?”

“What the f—Doc? Seriously?”

He scratches the back of his head, holding his room door open for his friends while you’re left to stare at his hooligan friends stupidly as they rush into his room.

“Yeah,” he clicks his tongue, not expressing even a bit of sorrow, “might wanna keep your balcony door closed tonight.”

With that, he shuts the door behind him, leaving you to, once again, curse the fact that even though your parents just bought this twenty-five-bedroom, fifteen-bathroom, pool, garage, etcetera, mansion, you still have to compromise like you always have since you were six years old. Doc’s room is right next to yours, and your rooms have an adjoining balcony, so if they’re going to smoke it up all night – the smell is something you can’t avoid, no matter how tight you lock the doors and windows.

So, the first thing you do when you enter your room is lock the door behind you, the balcony door, crank up the heat since it’s a bit chilly in your room and switch on your LED lights. Unfortunately, you’d have to find a way to get comfortable in your velvet dress and a full-face of makeup since it’s still early in the night and you’d probably have to see the guests off once everything is over.

Leaning back against your fluffy, pink cushions, you pull out the book you were reading from under the covers, bottom lip caught between your teeth at the sight of the cover art – the image alone gets you all hot. With eager fingers, you pinch the bookmark and find the exact paragraph where you left off earlier tonight, grinning to yourself.

Wait.

Quickly switching on your speaker, you link it up to your phone and dial up one of your reading playlists, munching on a sweet strawberry. And resumed reading…

I shivered as he trailed a hand up my thigh, inhaling a sharp breath, his eyes holding mine.

“Tell me to stop,” Eddie began, voice as cautious as the hand lingering near my womanhood, “and I will.”

But I said nothing, words failing me as he dared to go higher, and higher, brushing the frills of my underwear and when the heat was too much for me to take, I clamped my thighs shut.

Keeping his hand there too.

His blue eyes sparkled, leaning forward on the table as his thumb brushed my cheek with the faintest of touches.

“If you want me to stop, you would need to let my hands free.”

“I…”

My lips hung open, trembling as I enjoyed the heat his rough, calloused hands brought to my skin. So foreign, yet so familiar.

“I don’t want to let you go.”

With my confession, I spread my legs apart, head falling back as he finally, finally pressed into my sweet petals with the pad of his thumb. His tongue flicks out to wet his lips, and I wish he would quench my thirst with that very same tongue. Aid the dryness of my mouth. It’s a feeling I miss, deeply.

He watches with intense lust, my sweetness seeping through the fabric of my underwear, drawing me closer with slow, yet precise, movements of his thumb.

“Did you miss me? Touching you like this?”

I grip the seat of my chair, my feet kicking forward to meet the shiny points of his shoes under the table.

“Oh, I did,” I moan so loudly, “I missed it very much.”

The grunt he lets out awakens something carnal within me. I spread my legs further, feeling his fingers dip underneath the very material keeping him from breaking me. A mere graze and—

KNOCK KNOCK

You jolt upright, cursing to the walls, “who is it?!”

KNOCK KNOCK

“Oh for fuck’s sake—” shoving your book back under the covers, you spring up from the bed and stomp over to the door “—Doc, if you—”

“Oh, hi.”

The man you see waiting on the other side of your room door is a face you never expected to see…for a while now. You stand stock still, fingers gripping the door handle while he purses his lips, eyeing you up and down.

“Jimin.”

He tips his chin up, eyes disappearing into slits, “___, almost didn’t recognize you.”

A compliment. Since you despise your past self.

“You too,” you admit, taking in his sandy blond hair slicked back, dressed in a military blazer with gold detailing, but the same angled jaw and naughty eyes to match.

He places his hand on the doorframe, crossing one ankle over the other as he looms over your anxious figure, peeking inside your room. You swallow, breathing in his citrussy, cottony scent, another thing that hasn’t changed along with his silver rings and jewellery.

“Was looking for the restroom.”

“You can use mine,” you blurt, stepping aside immediately for him to enter the haven that is your room. You realize that none of your friends have seen your new room yet, and it’s quite ironic that Park Jimin is the first to step in and use your bathroom.

He surveys every corner of your room with inquisitive eyes and you’re wondering if he shares your thoughts.

The first time you moved into your old house, when you turned fourteen, Jimin was the first to see your room, since he came over to play video games with your brother, but this time you’re adults – and you shouldn’t be feeling this way all over again.

Why does it seem so personal to have him in your room? So intimate? Because he’s the only guy who’s ever been in your room? The only guy that counts…

“Uh…”

“Oh, there—” you point to the door near your cupboards, watching him disappear into the bathroom before you flop down on your bed and turn down the music.

There are literally more than ten bathrooms in this house – but he just happened to knock on your room door before he found one…Weird.

But you don’t want to seem weird either, even though you have countless questions for him, so you return to your position in bed, and spend some time on social media. Ensuring that the book is hidden under your covers.

Several minutes pass and he exits the bathroom, you’re covering your face with your phone, unsure of what to say and awaiting the sound of the door closing so you can react to seeing Park Jimin after nearly eight years…But the sound never comes, instead you feel a dip by the foot of your bed, clutching your phone to your chest at the sight of Jimin lounging there, blazer hanging off your desk chair.

He throws you a slow, appraising smirk.

“Err…”

Unbothered, he pulls out his phone from his pocket, now laying down fully. You shift uncomfortably, hoping to get his attention, but he doesn’t stir.

From afar, one would say that this shouldn’t annoy you – but it does. It does annoy you. Because you haven’t seen this man for eight years. Eight years no contact. And if you had a fairly good friendship in the past, all that faded away with time and space and separation. You also can’t just relax since he’d definitely have something to say about your reading choice…

“Are you waiting for…Doc?”

He lifts his head briefly, blinks twice, then goes back to typing on his phone.

“Nope.”

“Okay…”

Two minutes seem to pass with you trying to figure out what he’s still doing in your room and how to ask him that, politely.

While figuring that out, along with his distraction, you take the time to drink in every inch of his face. And it’s like he hasn’t aged a bit. With the pink LEDs on him, he looks…ethereal. His nose still has that distinct slope, his sharp eyes, thick eyebrows, perfectly sculped jaw and cheekbones and his lips…Oh God his lips…Sixteen-year-old you is squealing right now.

You know it.

She’s ecstatic to have Park Jimin just casually hanging out with her in her room, listening to her music, sitting on her bed, his chest touching your feet under the blanket as he rests his head on his fist, held up by his elbow.

You’re far from relaxation with him around…Quite the opposite, really.

He takes out something from his pocket and brings it up to his lips. You yelp, acting on impulse as you grab it from his hands.

“You can’t vape in here!”

Genuine confusion settles on his face, eyebrows furrowed, “why not? Doubt it would set off the smoke alarm.”

“No,” you sigh, holding it back when he tries to reach for it, “I don’t allow smoking in my room, if you wanna smoke—” you gesture to the balcony “—go outside.”

His mouth quirks to the side, “it’s too cold out there. Plus, it’s cherry flavor…your favorite.”

You feel your cheeks heat up.

Clearing your throat, you toss the vape in his lap, shooting him a warning glare before he finally decides to set it back inside his pocket. He goes back to typing on his phone, head hanging off the edge of the bed.

“You…What are you doing here? I thought you just wanted to use the restroom?”

He shrugs, “yeah, but it’s better in here.”

Even if you are flattered by those words, still, that’s not a valid explanation since he’s invading your alone time.

“Yeah, but shouldn’t you be hanging out with…Doc, Julian and them? How long has it been since you saw the rest of the guys?”

He tilts his head to the side, lips curled in a smirk, “as long as it’s been since I saw you.”

It’s a little too hot in here…You reach for the remote to turn down the heating, head snapping in his direction when you hear him chuckle. He sits up on his elbows, head cocked to the side while your back is pressing into the headboard, avoiding his discerning stare.

“You know you haven’t changed a bit.”

Offended. Because you know you’ve changed. No more in your awkward teenage years. His last impression of you needs to be forgotten.

“I have.”

He clicks his tongue, running his fingers through his hair which is a habit he seems to have kept.

“Nah.”

“I have,” you challenge, annoyance spiking with his ignorant comment, “I haven’t seen you in eight years. It’s been eight years, of course I changed, not sure about you though.”

His eyebrows shoot up, “so you’ve been keeping count?”

You splutter, quickly finding your words again when he begins to laugh.

“It’s not that hard to count how many years it’s been since my sixteenth birthday, the day you left.”

“Ah, right,” he snorts, now crossing his legs in front of him as he faces you, “so it’s almost eight years since your birthday isn’t over yet.”

He remembers your birthday.

“Right.”

“Hmm.”

Even if Playboy Carti fills the silence, you’re still thinking of something else to say. While he stares you down with the same scrutinizing stare from earlier.

“Sooo…your dad said you plan on doing your practicals next year?”

His gaze shifts to your pink comforter, fiddling with his rings, “yeah, his plans. And you?”

“Graduating this year,” you smile, hands slipping under the blanket, “finally.”

“And Doc is still Doc,” he laughs, rolling onto his side.

“Yeah,” you giggle, “still a total…idiot.”

“Just with the official Doctor title now.”

“Yeah…”

Your gaze flickers up to his face, cheeks burning even hotter when you find his eyes skating up and down your figure, lingering on your thighs that peek out from under the skirt of your dress.

One thing he can’t deny – your body changed too. You’re no longer the little girl he can push around, the one who would cry over a minor bruise when he would be too rough with you. You’re a woman now.

“Doc must have his guns locked and loaded,” he laughs, eyes set on yours.

Your eyebrows pinch together, “hm?”

“I mean, there must be tons of guys after his sister now, so he’d have to be prepared.”

That makes you laugh out loud, so loud the music fades out for a second before you come back to your senses. Yes, you do get catcalled here and there, but once you open your mouth it’s over. Because no man wants a woman with strong opinions, right? – Your mother’s words.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” you giggle, wiping away a stray tear, “nothing.”

“Is it funny that I think you’re pretty and there’s probably plenty of guys after you?”

You swallow, finding sincerity in his eyes. To be called pretty…by Jimin? The guy you had a crush on since you were ten years old?

He holds up his arms defensively, “I’m just saying, your boyfriend must be on guard.”

And he thinks you have a boyfriend…Wow. He overestimates you.

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” you say quickly, seeing him suck his lower lip into his mouth as he nods.

“Hmm, so what do you do with your days?”

“Study…read…hang out with friends,” you shrug, “pretty boring stuff since my days are packed. But I’m hoping this summer is fun.”

He leans forward, “it will be fun, since I’m around.”

“Really?! I mean—” you clear your throat “—you’re staying over for the summer?”

“Yep,” he pops the ‘p,’ scooting up on the bed and yanking the covers back, “it’s so col—”

Your eyes bulge out of your skull. Shit.

He holds up ‘The Guard’s Arrow,’ wearing a shit-eating grin, “this is what you read, huh?”

Surging forward, you try to get it out of his hands, heart pounding in your chest. But it’s far too late, the cover art itself just gave your deepest, darkest secret away. You look on with sorrowful eyes, hoping he wouldn’t spill your secret. But it’s far worse that he, himself, knows that what you spend your time reading are dirty novels. Feeding your desires in the form of words in the meantime…

Flipping the book over, he reads the summary at the back while the artwork of fingers dipping inside a very wet rose and stems to depict spread legs stare at you. You watch as a colorful display of emotions flash across his entertained features before he finally sets the book down and dares to speak.

“So you enjoy reading…erotic novels?”

You bury your face in a nearby plushie, groaning into the fluffy material.

“Shit, I’m sorry, okay?” He yells, “I just find it…fascinating.”

“Fascinating?” You squeak, bordering on tears, “how is it fascinating?”

He holds the book close to his face, “is this supposed to be a—”

Yanking the book out of his hands, you fling it under your bed, “I think you should go now.”

“Wait,” he laughs, grabbing your knee insistently, “there’s nothing to be ashamed of. I watched all three of the Fifty Shades movies, did you?”

“I read the books and they weren’t even that goo—”

You clamp your mouth shut, seeing his eyes shimmer with newfound interest.

“So, you’re actually a really…dirty girl if you think Fifty Shades wasn’t good.”

“I—” A shiver runs down your spine hearing him call you ‘dirty,’ “That’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean then?”

His eyebrows lift, and you know that the more you speak, the deeper hole you’ll dig for yourself.

“Just—” you screw your eyes shut, hands clasped together, “don’t tell anyone. Please. Don’t tell Doc.”

He presses a hand over his heart, rings glinting in the hot pink lighting, “of course I won’t. Haven’t I kept secrets for you before?”

You chew on your bottom lip, nodding coyly at the mention of other secrets you share but won’t mention.

“Yeah, so my lips are sealed,” he ensures, both hands splayed across your bare knees now, “but I just wanna know…isn’t it boring to read? When the real thing is out there?”

You suck in a sharp breath, “I love reading, and I prefer to conjure up the images myself rather than watch people bang it out on the screen with no passion.”

He grins, a short laugh leaving his lips, “I wasn’t talking about porn.”

“Oh? Then what are you talking about?”

As if it couldn’t go any higher, his eyebrows raise up to his hairline, “I said the real thing…As in you know? Real sex? Hooking up with someone?”

It’s difficult for you to hold eye contact at this point, stuttering through your words while he giggles and laughs at your flustered reaction.

“Told you,” he chuckles, pinching your cheek softly, “you haven’t changed a bit.”

You might know what he’s talking about this time, and you can’t argue with that.

Twenty-three years old – and you haven’t been kissed yet. Haven’t experienced any form of intimacy except that one time you hugged that one guy after class when he was moving to another country, it felt intimate but it may not count since you were just friends.

That hasn’t changed since the last time you saw Jimin and he knows it. You can tell by the way he’s looking at you now, but that gaze itself, has changed. You would hate the way he looked at you, just his best friends annoying, little sister.

But now…it’s different. More searching, inquisitive, and lustful.

It makes your heart skip a beat.

“So you read these books to fill that void?”

“I guess so,” you mumble into your shoulder, “is it even considered a void?”

“It depends,” he hums, moving back as he examines your face, “do you feel like it’s something you need?”

“What? Sex?”

He nods, eyes serious and clinical this time, “yeah.”

“I don’t know…”

“Do you find yourself wanting it sometimes?”

“I can’t want something I never experienced,” you breathe, wondering if it’s the champagne that has you so loose-lipped.

“Good point…then, do you find yourself wanting more? For example, when you’re kissing someone, do you wish you could take it further?”

You toy with the strings holding up your dress, “kissing?”

“Yeah.”

“I…” You cover your face with your hands, “this is so embarrassing!”

He pries your hands away from your face, voice as soothing as his gaze, “it’s just me! Jimin! Remember? Even if we haven’t seen each other in a while, it’s still us!”

Swallowing thickly, you smile, sounding out the words in your head before finally breaking it to him.

“I’ve never…kissed anyone before.”

Somehow, his eyes go blank and for once, you can’t read him, gaze drifting from his eyes to his mouth for any indication as to how he’s feeling.

“Jimin?”

“You’ve…never been kissed before?” He says robotically, as if the idea is so alien to him which has you shrinking in on yourself.

“I know, okay!”

“Why?”

You narrow your eyes at him, “why? What do you mean ‘why’?”

“I mean why didn’t you kiss anyone before? I’m sure there were plenty of opportunities for you.”

There he goes again.

“I just haven’t found anyone worth kissing yet! And all the guys on campus suck! Doc’s friends suck! Plus, I don’t really go out much which is entirely my fault and I know if I do I’d meet someone and I’d be down to you know…get down and dirty with them. It’s not like I’m saving myself for the one or anything…I just don’t go out of my way to get it and roll with the universe, and it seems like the universe doesn’t want me to lose my virginity anytime soon so like I said, I’m just gonna roll with whatever the universe throws me…”

He blinks.

You realize that you rambled.

“Sorry for rambling but I just…hope you understand.”

“You know you’re cute when you ramble.”

He’s a lot closer than you last remembered, his breath like hot puffs on your cheeks. It also doesn’t help that his lips gets glossy as his tongue darts out. You’re leaning back on your palms as he moves closer and closer, stomach twisting with want.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Mhm.”

“Do you—” he takes his lower lip between his teeth, whispering “—do you touch yourself?”

Everyone masturbates, right? It’s normal. Why should you lie?

“Yes.”

Your voice sounds more like a squeak, heart beating a thunderous rhythm. He seems pleased by your answer, cheeks puffing up.

“How?”

“W-What?”

His thumb brushes your cheek and your freeze, eyes fluttering shut with the simple yet heart-staggering touch. It makes you wonder what else he could make you feel…

“How do you like to touch yourself?”

“With my hand…”

He grins, “I know, but how? Do you lay on your back, your stomach…?”

“Oh,” you giggle, head pressing into the pillow behind you, “on my back…when I use my fingers but sometimes I…”

“Sometimes?”

You shut your eyes as you say the next few words out of diffidence.

“Sometimes I like to grind on my…pillow.”

“I bet you do,” he growls, his voice lowering to an octave you never heard before, nearly unrecognizable. And you find it incredibly sexy. “I bet that clit gets all puffy and swollen and you cum all over your pillow hm?”

Your pussy clenches, arousal brewing in your lower abdomen. And you want more.

“Mhm, I’m really sensitive.”

“Yeah? Can I ask you something else?”

“Yes.”

“Would you let me kiss you?”

It feels like your ears might be deceiving you, something out of your dreams. Park Jimin asking if he could kiss you? Your first kiss?

His eyes are half-lidded, lips parted as he awaits your answer.

Fuck it.

“Yes.”

Eyes shifting to the side, he hunches over you so you’re laying flat on your back, anticipation building as his chain dangles over your face. God, he’s so hot. He dips into the fresh cream, giving you no warning as he smears the cream across your lips and chin. You whimper with the cool texture settling on your face, waiting with bated breath as he lowers himself onto your trembling frame.

The weight of his body pinning you to the bed is something you never knew you’d enjoy, consuming you with each passing minute. You can’t believe this is happening, something out of a fever dream as his lips kiss your skin.

“Jimin—” you gasp, feeling the first brush of his lips against your chin as he licks up the cream to the corner of your mouth, drawing little pants from your gaping mouth.

He takes your wrist and guides your hand to the front of his shirt, asking you to hold onto him as he covers the other corner of your mouth with his. The feeling of his tongue, so wet and warm, licking off your face has you short-circuiting, and nothing could prepare for when he finally captures you lips with his, so lost in the feel of him that you register the taste of cream and cherries after he pulls away. Pecking your lips softly before angling his head perfectly and taking your lips between his, tongue clashing lewdly as you’re trying to gather your wits and kiss him back. Thinking of everything you’ve read – slipping your fingers into his hair, tilting your head in the opposite direction, giving the same amount of tongue you receive until your lungs burn for air and he’s pulling away, your jaw caught in his hand.

If you thought he sounded different before, then his voice after he catches his breath is something you will never forget.

“Sure you haven’t kissed anyone before?”

You’re at a loss for words, crinkling the front of his shirt in your fist as he covers your mouth with his lips again. His taste so intoxicating, his movements hypnotic and him. Just him. This is probably far better than the way you imagined your first kiss. He’s pressing into you, kicking your legs apart, heat building right there – but there’s no pressure. It throbs, and you moan as his tongue flicks against the roof of your mouth.

You’re trying to keep your sounds down, but you can’t help but moan, lips burning as he tugs on them with his teeth and then he’s reaching over to turn the music up, tugging at the strings on the front of your dress.

Subconsciously, you grab his hands, prompting him to move away.

“Sorry,” he smiles sheepishly, “I should ask first.”

But the top of your dress is already loose, and your plain pink bra with a bow right in the middle is peeking out. He takes it all in with greedy eyes, silently asking permission as he buries his head in the crook of your neck and his mouth on your pulse point – might be the second-best thing you’ve felt tonight.

If you couldn’t help your moans before, now you’re gasping for air, shivering as he trails wetly down the slope of your neck to suckle on your collarbones, nipping at the meat spilling from your bra.

“That okay?”

“Yes,” you sigh, eyes fluttering shut when he peppers kisses across your chest and then his hands are slipping up your dress, bending your right leg at the knee then his lips are there, kissing up your inner thighs while you watch with blood rushing through your veins at four times the normal speed, body heating up when he smirks upon seeing your matching pink panties.

“You smell as sweet as the cream,” he groans, head disappearing under your dress, “bet your cream tastes even better.”

His knuckle drags up and down your clothed clit and all you can think of is how terrified but turned on you are to have someone else give you pleasure, vibrating when his hot breath hits your folds as he pushes your panties to the side.

Thank God you waxed this morning. Who would’ve thought that Park Jimin would return and ask if he can kiss you leading up to his head buried between your thighs? Certainly not you.

The breath gets knocked out of your lungs once you feel his hot tongue against your folds, back arching as he holds open your pussy with his fingers and delivers several broad stripes up your cunt, not giving you time to breathe. A thousand times better than your fingers.

“Jimin,” you moan, reaching down you grab his hair in both your hands, anchoring yourself to the bed as he continues to assault your pulsating clit, sighing when he teases the swollen bud with the tip of his tongue earning a whimper from your swollen lips.

He moans into your pussy, the vibrations shooting straight through you to have you fisting the sheets in one hand and keeping his head in place with the other. You keen as he grabs two handfuls of your ass and rocks you against his face, the thought alone of his tongue pressed into your dripping pussy has sparks flying up the length of your body, crying out his name as you feel the cool metal of his rings press into your heated flush before you’re seeing those same sparks behind your eyelids.

Cumming on his tongue with sharp spasms, mouth hanging open.

Slurping up your juices with loud squelches, you ride out your high by grinding on his pink tongue, sweat beading across your forehead.

“Fuck, how did that feel?”

You laugh breathlessly, “that felt…amazing.”

His hair is a mess, falling on his forehead which has him looking even sexier to you. In a burst of confidence, you wrap your arms around his neck and slot your lips into his, whining when he tugs on your lip with his teeth.

“Wanna take this further?” He husks, nosing up the column of your throat and that’s when you feel it – his cock, what you think is his cock, pressing into your thigh.

“How…further?”

His tongue traces the shell of your ear, goosebumps erupt on your skin with the action which he is quick to smooth away with his plump lips.

“Just the tip? I know it’s your first time,” he chuckles darkly, the sound inebriating to your ears, “let me stick in the tip only, please.”

You mewl as he rolls his hips into yours, already unzipping his pants. When he pulls out his cock – sorrel brown, thick, veiny and stick at the tip – you make up your mind. Somehow you want to do everything with him, what if this is your only chance.

“Just the tip, okay? You’ll be a good girl for me? Fuck, letting me have all your firsts huh?”

“Fuck, Jimin.” Your head tilts back, feeling him press his hot and heavy cock into your clit, tapping the tip there before rolling his hips back and forth in a slow drag, spreading your wet folds with his cock. “Yes.”

“Just the tip, baby, Oh fuck, you’re so tight.”

Gritting your teeth, you feel the bulbous head of his cock breach your walls, whimpering when he pulls out and pushes in the tip over and over again till you’re a moaning mess under him once again. The fabric of pants grazes your thighs, the collar of his shirt kissing your neck as his tongue rolls into your mouth, swallowing up your moans before he begins to rock at a rapid pace. Cock sliding up and down your folds before he sets the tip on your clit.

“So fucking hot,” he grunts, lips dragging into a snarl as he tosses his head back and kneels between your legs. You watch as he shivers and trembles, the veins in his forearms prominent as he fucks into his fist before he collapses onto you again, the shaft of his cock grinding into your clit which has your core tightening, clit even more sensitive from your previous orgasm.

Planting your feet on the mattress, you grind into him, feeling his cock twitch, “fuck your cock feels so good rubbing on my pussy.”

“Shit, gonna cum all over this wet cunt. Fuuuuck.”

His eyebrows furrow, whimpering into your mouth as you feel hot liquid spread across your belly with an angelic moan of your name, setting off your second high of the night as his cock stays flush against your pussy, grinding up into him to get out the most of that numbing orgasm.

He meets your gaze and you both burst into a fit of giggles, still catching your breath, but laughing it off as you recover from what just happened. With a light hand, he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear,

His cheeks are flushed, lips a bright red and you wonder if you look as pretty as him, bathed in that post-orgasmic glow you read about.

“I never came that hard before,” he snorts, covering his eyes with his arm.

You blink, about to move closer to him when you feel his cum drying on your stomach. Grimacing, you sit upright and make your way to the bathroom, doing whatever you can to clean up the mess.

Some got on your dress but oh well, you’re going to shower in a bit anyway.

He’s sat up on your bed when you return, handing you his phone.

“You can…put in your number. I have a new number and…if I ask Doc for your number he’ll probably take the chance to play some stupid prank on me.” He gives you that same boyish chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck.

Chuckling lightly, you enter your digits and hand him back his phone, ignoring the weird feeling settling in your stomach at the thought that he wanted your number.

“You should uh—” you rub your arm, nodding toward the bathroom “—you should clean up.”

He cards his fingers through his hair, “yea—”

KNOCK KNOCK

“MUM’S CALLING! COME DOWNSTAIRS NOW! OPEN UP!”

With unspoken words, you and Jimin seem to share the same panic, rushing to fix your appearance while he cleans himself up and you’re still panicking. Panicking because your brother wouldn’t like the idea of…whatever happened a few moments ago.

What just happened a few moments ago?

Oh my God, you hooked up with Jimin? And not only that you had a bunch of your firsts with him? Holy crap.

“Hey, hey, how do I look? Good? Okay?” Jimin tilts his head from side to side, holding up his thumbs and completely oblivious to the internal battle you’re facing right now.

“OPEN UP!”

Jimin is about to unlock the door when you grab his arm, the sudden closeness too much for you. You take a step back, chest heaving.

“We can’t just open the door! You need to hide!”

Jimin shrugs, “it’s fine, I’ll just say I was using your toilet.”

“No,” you whisper-shout, “he’ll definitely know something is up!”

“No, he won’t,” he sniggers, grabbing you by the shoulders, “it’s totally fine. We used to hang out before.”

“Yeah,” you deadpan, “when we were kids. We’re adults now.”

“I don’t see the difference.”

Of course he doesn’t. Doc is your brother. Step-brother. You’d always have to face his unwarranted wrath.

“Exactly,” Jimin begins, eyebrow jumping, “you’re literally an adult now, you’re free to make your own decisions and fuck whoever you want.”

He spins around but you grab his hand, pleading with him.

“You cannot tell Doc.”

He sighs, “okay, I won’t.”

“I WILL BREAK DOWN THIS DOOR IF—”

The door flies open to reveal Doc and his gang waiting, their eyes zeroing in on Jimin who exits your room as cool as a cucumber.

“What the fuck were you doing in there?”

Locking your door behind you, you sprint passed them, hoping to dodge their confused stares and Doc’s endless questions.

“I needed to use the bathroom,” Jimin chuckles, “so ___ let me.”

Doc’s eyes narrow, catching Jimin under his bulky arm, “you do know we have like a thousand bathrooms in this house.”

“I know.”

The passage lights are bright and harsh compared to the lighting in your room. As if exposing you to the reality of the situation. You don’t want to think about it again, but you have no other choice when he’s right there. Speeding ahead of you with the rest of the guys while one thought remains.

A nagging thought.

Arm around your brother’s shoulders, Jimin tilts his head to shoot you a wink, a wink that’s reminiscent of the one he gave you earlier. The throb between your legs returns along with that incessant thought.

You want more. From him.

 It’s gonna be a long summer…

AHH okay this was just the beginning for them !! i hope you guys enjoyed this <3 please send in feedback, I would love to hear what you think !! ✉️

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[hometoursandotherstuff]

This 2009 Mediterranean style estate in Wellington, Florida has over-the-top decor. 9bds, 8ba, $15.9M.

Can you believe the chandelier hanging in the porte cochere? It looks like it could hit the car. Plus, there are two ornate carved planters on the walls.

The entrance foyer. The home is listed on every real estate site, including for-sale-by-owner.

Straight ahead is the sitting room. Look at how high the pictures go up. I wonder why all the chairs are lined up around the perimeter of the room.

The kitchen cabinetry is nice. I like the darker wood and counters.

The kitchen faces the family room.

I think it's the family room. What a ceiling.

The table and chairs must be the daily dining area.

And, this is the formal dining room. Note the organ, I guess for serenading the guests.

A guest powder room. I'm disappointed in the art- a lot of it is just framed prints.

The primary bedroom is huge. It has a beautiful ceiling, there's a piano in here, and doors to the garden.

The en-suite is also huge. The tub is so high, though. It looks like the round shower is gold-leafed.

It's unusual that the other bedrooms all seen to have a bed, sofa, and dining table.

Bath #2 is just as big as the primary bath.

Look at this room- it has a bed, table & chairs, large desk, and a full kitchen. The bedrooms are like studio apartments.

This bedroom also has everything, plus a balcony. All the bedrooms have this setup. I've never seen anything like it.

What a huge chandelier on this covered patio.

Love gazebos and this home has more than just this one.

18' deep pond stocked with koi, catfish and other exotic fish and its own dock. Isn't it beautiful at night?

This home is on 5 acres, surrounded by tropical trees, including fruit trees.

The property is so big, there are roads to drive around it.

The property is certainly large enough for a pool, but I think that this is for swimming.

[altschmerzes]

happy hanukkah, chag sameach everyone!!! here's a clip from far, far ahead in wriggle up on dry land, my ted lasso au where jamie's 15 and the groundsman's assistant when the story begins. at this point of the story he is 17 and he lives with ted - for. reasons. - and ted and roy have essentially ended up co-parenting him, which has been a learning process for everyone. this is their first real holiday season together, and the first time roy has decided to celebrate hanukkah of his own initiative (not with phoebe and his sister) in a long time.

The mulish determination that had carried Roy all the way through talking to Sarah and going to the little judaica store she’d given him the address of and getting everything set up disappears as soon as there’s someone else in the house. He hovers awkwardly near the doorway and watches while Ted and Jamie shuck off their coats and Ted nudges the kid to remind him to take his shoes off inside. They’ve both been in his house before, more times than he can count by this point, but somehow the experience feels new and unpredictable. Neither Ted nor Jamie seem to notice, chattering to each other about whatever they’d been talking about before they got here, but Roy can’t escape it. The feeling is loud and cloying and he can’t turn it off.

Just as Roy is about to conclude this entire thing had been a mistake and he should call it off right now, he realizes that the new arrivals have left him behind in his own entryway, moving on into the dining room where-

Well. Roy hurries after them and comes to an abrupt stop in the doorway. Ted’s got his hands tucked into his pockets and he looks at Roy with a warm, knowing smile that Roy resents on principle. Jamie is staring at the table, stopped in place like he can’t quite comprehend what he’s seeing. It’s an understandable reaction. A menorah was to be expected. Three of them is… Three of them is something else.

They’re lined up in a neat little row on the table, candles already placed in the farthest corners and the middles, a lighter laying nearby in anticipation of what’s coming next. The one on the left end is simple and traditional, the first one that Roy had grabbed. It reminded him of the one his grandparents had, the one that is probably in the window at Sarah’s house right now, already lit. In the middle sits a short menorah, a flat row of silver candle holders with the shamash slightly raised at the centre of them, and a colourful pattern on a panel behind them. Red pomegranates are set against a blue background and the whole thing had reminded him of Richmond. The last, on the right, is elegantly shaped silver metal, a trunk and the reaching branches of a little tree. It had taken Roy a long time to choose it. Dissatisfied with the options, he’d been about to give up and choose one at random when he’d spotted it, tucked away at the back of the shelf. As soon as he’d seen it, he’d known it was the one he wanted - on the way out of the store he’d thought to himself Do they even have trees in fucking Kansas? And then he’d been so irritated at what an insane thing that was to worry about that he’d nearly tripped over a crack in the pavement.

Finally tearing his eyes away from the table, Jamie glances over this shoulder at Roy. He looks confused, a little uncertain, like he’s got a question but he doesn’t want to ask it. The story he’d told about spending Hanukkah with his friend Ash’s family pops into Roy’s mind and he wonders if this is a setup Jamie recognizes, if he’s counted the menorahs on the table and done the simple math and realized what that meant. Then again, this is Jamie. That kind of conclusion is not one he can be relied on to reach himself, and so Roy is going to have to explain.

“That’s what we did,” Roy forces out eventually. His voice sounds thick and stony even to his own ears and he stops, swallowing hard before he tries again. The last thing he wants is to sound resentful, or angry, or any of the other things he knows he sounds when he’s emotional - embarrassed, this time. Anxious for their reactions, for this display of the thinness of his own life, his lack of substance that he’d needed to go out and buy these new and Googled it three times before he was sure he’d put the candles in the right end.

“In my family,” he says, faintly pleased that it comes out softer than before, gentler and less intense. “And in a lot of families. Don’t know about your friend Ash, but… But that’s what we did, and a lot of people do. Have one for… For everyone in the…” Roy waves a hand around, a vague circle indicating the room. His cheeks feel hot and he doesn’t know why this is so fucking hard to say. “In the immediate family. So. Y’know. Three.”

There. He’s said it and he’s explained and he didn’t pass out or die and nobody immediately laughs either so that has to be some kind of a good sign. Roy stares resolutely at the grain of the kitchen table. He can feel the eyes of the other two people in the room on him but he can’t bring himself to look over at them. Not quite yet.

[din-miller]

Leaf Pressing

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Word count: 1.2k

Summary: Comfortember day three: leaves changing

Warning: Getting together, set in Jackson, fluff, first kiss, darlin’, all knowledge about leaf pressing comes from online

A/N: joel looks so gooood in this gif, like damnnn boy. This is kinda rushed and I haven’t written for Joel in a hot minute and I didn’t find out until yesterday about Comfortember so I’m trying to catch up. And yes darlin’ is it’s own warning because FUCK it hits the spot every time. Divider by @saradika

It was kinda a spur-of-the-moment decision. You had seen the changing of the trees, the ground litter with fresh falling leaves and you suddenly had an idea. Something you hadn’t done in ages.

You started by collecting all the leaves that weren’t already curling in on themselves, picking out the prettier ones, setting them on the porch step before racing to the mess hall.

There’s this giddy feeling inside you, one that is rare these days, but it’s freeing and you can’t stop smiling.

You probably look like you’ve officially gone insane as you burst into the mess hall, not acknowledging anyone as you make a bee line straight into the kitchen.

“I need wax paper.” You announced to the poor unexpecting kitchen staff and they all stared at you in bewilderment. Talk of the town you’ll be this week.

The head Chef looked at the staff, “Well don’t just stand there, get this lady some wax paper!”

As the kitchen staff scrambled to find the box of wax paper, you smiled at the chef, “Thanks Donny. I only need a little bit.”

He waved you off, his blue eyes bright as he smiled, “Take all ya need, and here,” He placed a bag of treats in your hand, “Give my love to your Joel and Ellie.”

You blushed, of course everyone in town knows of your obvious crush on Joel and the way you’ve taken to caring for the snippy teenager like she’s your own family.

With the supplies you came for, plus the snacks, you headed back to your place. Once there you stared down at the leaves for a minute wondering how you’re going to proceed.

There's an option, probably the best one. In all of Jackson only one house has the perfect setup for your craft. The only problem is that Joel’s not home and even though he has told you multiple times that his door is always open, any time of day, it doesn't matter if he’s home or not; you still feel like it’s trespassing.

You sighed, standing here doing nothing isn’t going to get the leaves pressed. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you’re packing everything up and walking down the street to Joel’s. His door is locked but you have your own set of keys to his place.

Entering, you take off your shoes and set them neatly on the shoe rack by the door and as you pass the dining area you set the bag of goodies you got from Chef Donny onto the table. It’ll be a nice surprise for Joel and Ellie when they get home.

You entered his workshop area and placed the materials you needed down on the table. Next you searched the closet for an iron board and the matching iron. You know Joel owns them; no one’s shirts can be that wrinkled free. Apocalypse or not.

Now with the board and iron, you started organising all the craft materials and kicked open the iron board stands, placing the board beside the workshop table.

The house is quiet without Joel and Ellie. Though you’re sure if you strained your ears enough you might be able to hear the pitter-patter of Ellie’s stray cat she took in a few months back.

Suddenly there’s a noise behind you, someone clearing their throat and you whip around to find Joel leaning against the doorway; shoulder pressed against the frame and one leg crossed over the other in an unfairly attractive way.

He’s chewing on the snack you left on the table, “Gotta say, darlin’, I wasn’t expecting to see you here. Leaves a man wondering how often a pretty girl is alone in his house with him not knowing.”

“This is the first time, I promise!” You rushed out, not wanting to make Joel mad or upset.

“Hey, I ain’t mad. I meant what I said before. Doors open twenty-four seven. Whether it be for food, company, or apparently arts and crafts. Whatever it is, this house is yours too.” He said in honesty before pressing his lips together.

“What's wrong?” You frowned, trying to read his expression, “You got a look in your eyes I’ve never seen before.”

“When I saw your shoes I panicked. I thought something had happened and I wasn’t there for you. Then I find you up here humming along to some old tune, completely safe and I-,” Joel shook his head with a sigh and pushed himself off the doorframe, “I guess I forgot how simple life can be sometimes.”

It’s an easy thing to forget. The world hasn’t been simple for decades, but here, right now it is. For you, for him. You sent him an understanding nod and asked: “You want to help?”

Joel looked at your pile of supplies, “Leaf pressing?”

You held a leaf up for him to see, “I found these leaves this morning and remembered how I used to love doing arts and crafts,” You shrugged, turning back to face the workbench, “Like you said; the simple things in life.”

He came over to get a better look, his body hovering over your shoulder, breath hot against your neck and you can’t suppress the shiver that ran down your spine.

“Good haul.” Joel commented and picked up one of the bigger ones, “I can leave you to it if you want. I don’t mind.”

“No,” You said a little too fast, causing you to blush, “I mean, I don't mind, seriously. I like having you here. You’re, um, good company.”

“Just good?” He teased, setting down the leaf and closing the space between you to rest his head down on your shoulder, hands wrapping around your front.

You sucked in a sharp breath, body involuntarily relaxing against him, “Ego stroking isn’t a good look on you Miller.”

He chuckled against your neck, leaving goosebumps to break out across your skin. He didn’t reply; instead he watched as you sorted through the pile of leaves until you found your favourite ones, then asked him to pick out four from the pile, narrowing down the options. If he was surprised by your ask, it didn’t show.

With the best four leaves picked you placed them onto the sheet of wax paper on the board and then added the other half of wax paper overtop.

“Pass me the iron, make sure it’s on medium heat please.”

Without separating from your back Joel stretched out and grabbed the irons handle and passed it to you. You did the next part in comfortable silence while Joel’s thumbs rubbed circles just over your belly button, slightly wrinkling your shirt.

Leaves pressed together, you turned to him.

“Now what?” He asked, hands finding a new spot to rest, just above the band of your pants.

Your eyes flickered down to his plush lips as you replied: “We, ah, have to wait for the paper to cool off.”

Joel hummed, closing the distance between you slowly, “Then?”

“We choose to either cut out the leaves individually or keep them as is, all together.”

“We?” He raised a brow, eyes twinkling as his forehead finally touched yours.

“Yeah, we.” You breathed, breath tickling his lips and you rubbed your nose against Joel’s before closing the remaining gap to capture his lips in yours, earning an appreciated groan from the man.

[mama-qwerty]

The Knuckles Series - Review

Okay. So.

Finished the series.

I have thoughts.

First of all, it was fun. I view it as kinda filler episode material, that if someone watched just the movies they wouldn’t miss much. I watched it with my family and there were times we were all laughing and cheering and just enjoying the ride. It was silly and fun and Knuckles was adorable in every scene he was in.

That said, was it perfect?

No. No, it was not.

Here’s my take on some problems.

~ Setup felt rushed

We had the barest glimpse into Knux’s difficulty adjusting to a life on Earth, which, honestly, just made it look like he wasn’t being challenged enough. He can’t go from being on the run and fighting for his life at every turn to just sitting around playing VR and goofing off. That’s just not who he is.

Not to mention, his interpersonal skills are practically non-existent. He fought his whole childhood away. Presumably, anyone who came near him either wanted to exploit him, use him, or fight him. So he’s used to just doing things on his own, with no one to answer to, or take into consideration. That’s what I saw at the beginning—and honestly, it may have been easily handled had Maddie sat down with him and actually tried to get to know and understand him a little better.

~ Maddie

I felt for her, I really did. And I get that she was frustrated. Tom’s off who-knows-where, and she’s left at home trying to get the damage to the house fixed, while keeping tabs on three super powered alien kids, one of whom is actively attacking handymen, dragging a ton of dirt and sharpened sticks into the living room to make a warrior fighting pit, and dismantling the car to build himself an Iron Throne in the dining room.

She’s frustrated, and doing everything she can to keep herself from snapping. She didn’t sign up for this, but now has to learn on the fly how to deal with three very different, and very special needs kiddos.

But her referring to Knuckles as “our little red barbarian friend” kinda rubbed me the wrong way. He’s not a barbarian. He’s a warrior. He’s a traumatized kid who feels like the honor of his entire tribe rests on his shoulders. He’s struggling with this change and instead of trying to sit down and talk to the kid to explain how things are done on Earth, and see if there was some kind of agreement they could reach to keep them both happy, she just kinda gives up and walks away. Not very understanding, and doesn’t make her come off looking very good.

~ Pachacamac

Okay, this is just weird. Pachacamac, for those who don’t know, in the games is the warmongering echidna tribe chief who led the warriors in an assault to take the Master Emerald’s power for themselves. In the process, they enraged Chaos, the God of Destruction, who all but wiped out the Knuckles clan.

I know, I know, game and movie universes are different. The movie team has taken liberties before with certain aspects of Sonic lore, so this shouldn’t be any different.

Except it is. Canonically, Pachacamac is not a good guy. He’s not even a morally gray character. He is not an honored chief, who trained Knuckles and is now his wise spirit guide. He was the cause of the fall of Knuckles’ entire tribe, thanks to his greed and lust for power.

Making Pachacamac essentially Yoda is like changing Robotnik into a kindly grandfather figure. I mean, what??

The only thing I can think this harkens back to is Longclaw’s little hologram message from the second movie, in which she gives Sonic a quest to find the Master Emerald before Knuckles does. Which, okay, it’s a lost loved one giving a final message to help direct the character on a new path.

Except, Pachacamac isn’t a lost loved one for Knuckles. We did not see any interaction between Knux and Pach. We did see interaction between Knuckles and his father, who would have been a much better choice to send his son on a new path.

(I did, however, see this post that makes SOOOOO much sense in why Pachy appears to Knux, and instructs him to train Wade, specifically.)

~ The Master Emerald

Speaking of, WHERE IS IT? It was referenced numerous times, but never shown once. The absolute least the show could have done was show it well secured, with a Tails’ created security system in place. Show Knux meditating near it, or praying to his ancestors that they can rest easy knowing that the Emerald is safely back in the hands of the echidna once more.

The absolute lack of a presence of it is strange, considering the pursuit of it was what caused the near extinction of both the echidna and the owls. It was Knuckles’ focus for his entire life. Yet he simply leaves it behind without a second thought?

~ Wanda

OMG I hated Wade’s sister. Just, hated her. She was immature, abrasive, abusive, unnecessarily antagonistic with Wade (which seemed to be a life-long thing if the flashbacks are anything to go by) and just struck me as someone who was overcompensating for something. She’s a bully and it’s no wonder Wade is the way he is if he had to grow up with someone like her.

~ No Closure

We didn’t see them arrive back home, where Maddie would hand them their asses for just disappearing like that and not telling her. She was likely worried out of her mind the whole time. And I would have liked to have seen Sonic and Tails try to cover for Knux’s absence, in funny little brotherly shenanigans.

As I said above, I still found it fun. I loved Mother Whipple. I loved Knux’s interactions with her. I loved how Wade grew over their little trip. It was an enjoyable ride, and my whole family really had fun.

How would I have done it differently?

Well, that’s a different post.

[impossiblesuitcase]

What do you think about people saying Kai is lame cuz he has no personality- and yes I'm coming here due to the the poll results ?

I think people who say this didn't read the books--Kai is witty, flirty, angry, responsible and social. He's respectful with women and gets along with them well without you ever questioning his loyalty to Cinder. He stabbed Levana and envisions killing her on multiple occasions, including stabbing her eye out with chopsticks. He falls ridiculously in love with a girl he has every reason to distrust. He's entitled enough to think she's doing everything she's doing just to protect him.

He feels like an imposter, unqualified for the one thing he's destined to do. He's willing to take the fall to diffuse a situation (taking blame for Levana's mirror at the dining table setup). He'll sacrifice his life for his people and date the girl who kidnapped him. He'll punch a wall and scream and tenderly kiss Cinder's hand and roll his eyes at a press conference and refuse to eat or drink when his people are in distress.

His speech abilities progressed the revolution by convincing Levana to host the wedding on Luna and it worked. Even when the plan was exposed, Kai didn't shirk under her wrath, he made a snarky remark. He got down on one knee to freak Cinder into thinking he was proposing, just to give her the metal foot he kept because he felt like it was all he'd have left of her.

You might not like him, but to say he has no personality is just ???

[mandoatsea]

darling, dearest | prologue

pairing: regulus black x f!reader

rating: mature but don’t worry, it’s gonna get spicy

word count: 6k

warnings: angst, mentions of execution and murder, references to cults (sorry death eaters), forced marriage, some iffy coping mechanisms (nail picking, pain), enemies to lovers, divergence from canon (just a little bc the first wizarding war is such a bummer and james deserves a baby sister), friendship turmoil, some manipulation because sirius is desperate, albus dumbledore jumpscare, tiny baby sprinkles of wolfstar if you squint ... i think that’s it, but please let me know if i missed anything!

a/n: helloooo! i was shocked at how many people saw the sneak peek and let me know they were excited for the first chapter! welcome to the first installment of the dumpster fire that is my regulus black obsession. he deserved so much better, and i’m dedicated to giving him a happy ending. i decided to start with a prologue, as this one is more of setup to the main story. i took a little liberty with the court system and marriage because they’re not super detailed in the books as far as i know. i hope you enjoy, and join the taglist if you want to keep up!

⭒☆⭒

If you were asked what you thought about the end of the Wizarding War, you would have to say it all felt rather anticlimactic. One minute you were obsessively checking the radio for news of attacks and casting wards every hour, and the next – everything was quiet.

"It's quite eerie, isn't it?" James remarks from the end of the dining table, glasses crooked. His green cardigan hugs his shoulders – broad but thinner now after months of stress. His spitting image, Harry, is bouncing happily on his father's knee and chewing on his knuckles. You wince as drool hits the knee of James' slacks.

"It's lovely," Remus moans from the couch, an arm thrown over his eyes and his long legs crossed at the ankle. His dark gray cardigan practically swallows him as he blindly spins his wand between long fingers. "Only you could find an issue with the end of a war, Prongs."

You grin at him, fingertips tapping nervously at the grain in the wood. Your brother pouts at Remus and Harry seems to pick up on his disdain because he turns and frowns at his father until James grins at him cheerfully.  

James practically glowing as he carelessly wipes slobber from Harry's chin, declaring half-heartedly, “Don’t be a prat, Moony.” 

"Has anyone heard from him yet?" Lily asks as she glides into the room, her wand suspending four mugs of tea that trail after her. Her long red hair is tied back in a plait. The question makes you swallow nervously. Two of the mugs land in front of you and James, the other settling neatly on the floor next to Remus, and the final one settles against Lily’s palm.

"Nothing," James sighs, expression suddenly pinched as Lily settles in the chair next to him and tugs Harry into her lap in response to his grabbing fingers, tapping his nose with her finger and earning a delighted squeal. "The trial was supposed to end hours ago."

"No news is good news," you offer rather unhelpfully as your stomach continues to twist itself into knots, "maybe he took him to celebrate."

Silence hangs over the room. The chances that anyone is going to be celebrating tonight are dismally low.

Remus seems to pull himself from his dozing, sitting up on the couch and lifting his mug of tea cautiously to his lips and your fingers curl around your warm mug.

"I've cooled it, Moony," Lily calls with a soft smile, "it shouldn't be too hot." Remus smiles sheepishly in thanks over his mug, taking a healthy swallow. You focus on a rip at the bottom of his sleeve, worrying your bottom lip with your teeth and relishing the slight sting. 

More silence.

"It shouldn't be too bad," James says rather factually, though his voice is pinched with nerves. "He did help at the end–"

"James." Remus cuts him off quietly, his eyes serious. "Let's just see what happens." James sinks slightly in his seat, draping an arm over the back of his wife's chair.

You swallow, nausea beginning to stir in your gut. Remus is more knowledgeable about the Wizengamot than anyone you know, and his guarded expression leaves you feeling sick.

"Poor Sirius," Lily's normally cheerful voice is pained and Harry has dozed off against her neck, "I hope it's not too–"

The silence is broken as someone apparates into the living room with a sharp crack.

Sirius stands in the middle of the living room, hunched slightly at the waist as though he’s about to be sick. Your heart sinks like stone. Remus and James stand and Remus crosses the short distance as Sirius' knees appear to buckle. Remus gathers him in a firm hug and you stare in disbelief as Sirius hugs him desperately.

Sirius Black's usually amused expression is twisted into one of profound grief. His black robes are rumpled and his hands shake as they twist in the fabric covering Remus' back. Purple smudges of exhaustion from the war are nearly black now and his curls have gone limp and frizzy – most likely because he's been tugging at them all day.

"Sirius," James says worriedly as Remus guides him to the couch, and he crosses over to his friend, "what's happened?" Remus sits next to Sirius, his brow furrowed and his lips pursed in concern.

Both you and Lily watch worriedly as Sirius swallows a few times. His shaking fingers worry at the fraying hem of his robes.

Voice wrecked, his voice is barely a croak as he announces, "He's getting Kissed."

You suck in a gasp of disbelief. It feels like someone has wrapped a hand around your lungs and squeezed as tightly as they can. Lily's slender fingers press against her mouth, her green eyes are suddenly shiny under the light of the dining room.

Remus stares at Sirius blankly, though you can see that his knuckles are white where they're gripping the edge of the couch cushion. You watch as your brother merely shakes his head.

"That's not possible," he says, voice hollow, "he... he was the one who destroyed–“

"James," you say firmly, "stop." Sirius has begun to rub frantically at his eyes. You’re not sure how you make it from the dining room table to kneeling in front of Sirius, but you do. Your hands wrap around his wrists and pull his hands from his eyes – his skin is clammy and cool. 

Sirius whimpers quietly, brown eyes red and full of tears. He looks like he's going to be sick, his light complexion washed even paler. Your throat squeezes tightly and you lace your fingers with his, giving him a gentle squeeze as James rests a shaking hand on his shoulder.

"It's my fault," Sirius chokes, and you shake your head immediately, his figure wobbling as your eyes sting with tears, "I should have never left him in that fucking house."   

You’ve never heard the entire story of the night Sirius fled Black Manor and ended up shivering on their doorstep, stinking of Dark magic, his eye bruised, begging for James. The guilt he harbors over that night is something he rarely shares with anyone. All you know is that leaving his baby brother was something Sirius never fully recovered from.

Terror strikes you now. You’ve seen what happens when Sirius closes up, locking everyone out and weathering his emotional storms all alone. Maybe it's a skill he learned growing up – the ability to throw up walls and barricade himself deep in his subconscious. The last time – when he'd found out about the most recent legion of Death Eaters and their Dark Marks – he didn’t leave his room for days.

He’d refused to talk to anyone, even Remus.

"It's not your fault," is all you can tell him, "it's not, Sirius."

Don't shut me out, you think, squeezing his hands as he shudders, please, let me help you.

You love Sirius the way you love James – deep, undying love. Regardless of the endless pranks and infuriating overprotection, he's one of the most important people in her life. The sight of him so devastated has you breathless – floundering for anything that might stop the course he’s on.

"He took the Mark when he was sixteen!" The words break as Sirius spits them furiously. "He was a fucking child!" His head tips forward as a sob splits loose from his chest.

"We'll fix it, Sirius," Remus says quietly, "surely there has to be something we can do." He locks eyes with you as a tear makes its way down your cheek.

"The end of the week," Sirius whispers, "they're going to kill him at the end of the week with all those bloody murderers." You brush a limp curl behind his ear before James pulls him into one of his tight, nearly suffocating hugs. Sirius’ panicked heaving is muffled against James’ shoulder. 

It takes an hour and a vial of Dreamless Sleep to finally get Sirius to bed, and you lean against the wall outside of his bedroom, waiting for Remus to reappear. The door opens slowly and Remus emerges, brow furrowed as he shuts the door as gently as possible.

"Is he alright?" You ask him. Remus rubs an anxious hand along the back of his neck, his sleeve pooling at his elbow. Thin, pale scars along his forearm shimmer slightly before he tugs the sleeve back to its rightful place and his arm falls back to his side. 

"No," he sighs heavily, hand closing on your upper arm, pulling you into his chest, "no, he's not." You hug him tightly, fingers buried in the soft fabric of his robes. Your eyes sting and you press your nose to his shoulder, inhaling the smell of clean cotton and mint.

"There has to be something we can do," you whisper.

Remus knows the ins and outs of the Wizengamot like the back of his hand. After applying as an Auror, he’d been questioned for ages – hours in front of the members trying to convince them that he was still fit for training despite his “affliction.” He had practically lived at the Ministry for months.

"I'll stop by tomorrow and talk to Doris," Remus remarks quietly against your hair, referencing the advocate that had been assigned to his case, "maybe there's some way we can get him out in a few years. Sometimes it's just a matter of showing them what they want to see. I doubt he had a third-party advocate." You nod and the door to James and Lily's room opens cautiously.

"Is he asleep?" Lily asks, stepping out into the hallway as you and Remus step apart.

"Passed out," Remus tells her, James stepping into the hallway after his wife. "He didn't stop shaking for a good ten minutes, but I think the potion finally kicked in."

"Merlin," James' voice is crushed as he leans against the wall, "hasn't he been through enough already?"

"He's bound to feel some guilt," Lily states factually, "he probably thinks he would have gotten the Mark instead if he'd stayed."

"Of course he thinks that," Remus says, voice tinged with rare anger, volume raising, “that’s what his parents made him believe before he left.”

You could wake him, you realize rather suddenly, and place your hand on Remus' arm to quiet him, earning an exhausted sigh. The last thing you need is for Sirius to hear you confirming his worst fears. Nibbling anxiously at your thumbnail you vaguely recall a few books in the manor's library about Azkaban and the Dementor's Kiss – a rather morbid fascination of your father’s for a few months at the beginning of the War.

"Remus is going to The Ministry tomorrow," you announce quietly to James and Lily, "I'm going to do some research of my own. Maybe we can find ... a reason for an appeal, or a loophole. There has to be something. He helped The Order, it should count for something." James seems to perk up at the idea and Lily smiles fondly at you.

"I'll go with Remus."

"No." You and Remus say simultaneously, earning a shocked and disbelieving pout from James.

"Someone has to stay with him, Prongs," Remus says pleadingly, "I don't know what he'll do if we leave him alone. He needs a Calming Draught and about a hundred cups of tea. Please stay with him."

Almost immediately James sags, bobbing his head of dark curls once in understanding. Lily slides a hand up his back, rubbing comforting circles between his shoulder blades. 

“We should all get some sleep,” she announces and you nod immediately, stretching your arms above your head with a groan, muscles stretching taunt in your shoulders, “we can worry about all of this in the morning.” 

“Alright,” Remus agrees, slumping as though someone has cut the string holding him up, “I’m going to crash on the couch.” 

Normally you would argue, protesting about his back, but your attention is almost solely on the books. By the time you all go your separate ways, you’re so absorbed in which titles to pull first that your feet practically carry you to the library – you stay there until the sun creeps over the horizon and your hand aches from its grip on your quill. 

⭒☆⭒

James catches you on your fourth trip to the library in as many days. You and Remus have barely spoken, ships in the night as he leaves for the Ministry and doesn’t return until late. Sirius has spent days pacing the living room, eyes cloudy with exhaustion, or passed out on the couch after another Calming Draught. Much to your frustration, none of the books have offered any useful information.

“Moony and Padfoot are in the study,” your brother tells you, “it seems important.” Hope flares in your chest and you nod hurriedly. 

“Yeah, alright,” you say, already turning back around to head to the study, “are you coming?” 

“I’ve got to drop off Harry,” James says with a shake of his head, “mum and dad have been dying to see him. I’ll be back in a bit.” 

“Sure,” you call, already heading down the hall to the study, “tell them I miss them, please.” 

“Sure, love.” 

 Rushing down the hall lands you in front of the study rather quickly. You knock twice before swinging the door open. Remus and Sirius are talking in hushed, tense voices at the large table in front of the fireplace. The side of Sirius’ face is illuminated with firelight, reflecting his nearly manic expression. His eyes are wide and pleading as Remus stares at him with a disappointed expression, shaking his head in disapproval every few seconds. His normally bruised under-eyes are even darker with exhaustion.

“When did you get back?” You call in greeting, hesitant to interrupt their tense discussion. Remus’ head lifts immediately, softening at the sight of you. A pleased grin lifts the corner of his mouth, pulling a very faint scar on his cheek tight. Sirius’ throat bobs before he turns to look at you as well. 

“Hi, darling,” Remus greets, “I only just arrived. I’ve been with Doris all night.” You make your way across the study to the table, squeezing Sirius’ shoulder as you settle at the table. 

“You must be exhausted,” you remark sympathetically, worrying welling as you take in Remus’ drawn expression, “are you alright?” 

“Fine, fine,” he brushes you off, “I’ll head home in a bit.” 

“Did Doris tell you anything helpful?” 

Your question seems to land like a bomb. 

Remus’ lips press in a thin line and Sirius turns to look at you, his expression open and full of hope. He looks so young that it takes your breath away. 

“Remus talked to Albus Dumbledore,” he tells you, “he said–” 

“Sirius.” Remus snips, his gaze cool. “Don’t.” Sirius deflates slightly at the reprimand but appears to steel himself before looking at you again. 

Sirius' voice has taken on a pleading quality when he says your name, his dark brown eyes brimming with sorrow, "Darling, you know–" his voice breaks and you suck in a breath. "You know I would never ask you to do this if I had a choice."

“Ask me to do what?” Your eyes flicker between them. 

"The Wizengamot would be inclined to pass down a more lenient sentence," Remus informs you quietly, "if it could be proven that he had a motive to help The Order." Disdain colors his tone.

"Motive." You parrot blankly. Your mind is swimming. The Wizengamot has been in disarray since the start of the war and lately, they seem to be doing all they can to move cases through the court as rapidly as possible. You’ve heard a few previous life sentences cut down to a few years in Azkaban or house arrest when new information is presented. An unsettled feeling has begun to churn in your gut as Sirius worries the edge of his sleeve between his long fingers.

"Remus thinks maybe if he had been in a relationship with someone in The Order, people would more easily believe he destroyed the locket." Sirius' voice is hopeful. "Helping The Order would get him a few years of house arrest, they probably wouldn't even hold him in Azkaban."

You shake your head, brow furrowing. You can't remember any relationships other than James and Lily throughout the entirety of the war. Maybe Frank and Alice Longbottom, but you hadn't been particularly invested in romantic drama – no one was. It was too much energy to waste when everyone was exhausted by stress and grief.

"Who was he with?" You ask, locking eyes with Remus. His expression is pinched, hair falling over his right eye, making him look boyish and haughty. "I don't remember him even speaking to anyone, but maybe if we can find some witnesses–"

"He wasn't seeing anyone," Remus says quietly, "no one in The Order would have wanted to touch a blood purist anyway." There's a bite in his voice that earns him a sharp glare from Sirius, and you feel dread crawl its way up your throat.

"I don't understand." You confess tightly. "Why are you even exploring that as an option?"

"It's the only option," Sirius says sharply, "there's nothing else we can do. This is the only way we can–"

"I still don't understand why–"

"I'm asking you–" Sirius' voice is shaky and he lifts his brown eyes to yours, "to marry him."

Static buzzes in your ears, quietly and then louder as the seconds tick by. Remus grimaces at his hands, thumb pressed against the pale scar that runs along his thumb and disappears under his sleeve. The world feels faintly tilted, and you shake your head in an attempt to rebalance yourself.

The second the statement leaves Sirius' mouth, you know you’ll do it. It’s an absent, emotionless conclusion. Anything Sirius asks of you, you'll do – because you love him. You want his trust, and to earn that trust you’ll do whatever he needs. Anything to keep him out of the unreachable place he flees to in times of grief. Losing his brother would kill him, and if you refuse he'll never forgive you – something you can't risk.

You come to the additional deduction, as you look at him, that he knows all of this. The request doesn't come from a place of clouded or misguided desperation – the look in his eye is calculating rather than manic. You realize, suddenly, that he has already added up the cost of this request and the consequences it will have on your relationship.

He just doesn't care.

You stare at him for a few more seconds in suffocating silence.

"You're asking me to marry your brother." You confirm quietly. Sirius' expression falters for a moment before he tips his chin up, emotions shuttered.

"It's the only way they'll let him out." He tells you, his voice flat. An ache opens up in your chest and you have the fleeting thought that you’re not going to recover from this for a long, long time. "I don't have any other options."

"Don't decide now. This is..." Remus starts to plead with you, openly devastated. "It's an impossible choice you have. Please, for me, sleep on it–"

"I'll do it." You interrupt him, earning you a disbelieving stare. "Assuming he agrees, I'll do it." You look at Sirius sharply. "You already knew that though, didn't you?"

The only response you get is the twitch of his jaw, his eyes falling to the table. Very suddenly, emotion wells in your throat and behind your eyes – suffocating in its intensity. In a panic, you stand from the table and make for the door.

"I'm sorry," Sirius calls out to you as you reach for the doorknob, "I hope one day you'll forgive me."

The only response you give is the violent bang of the door shutting behind you.

⭒☆⭒

The wait to leave for The Ministry is passed in silence.

James' knuckles are white and his grip on your hand borders on painful. His jaw clenches furiously as he stares at the fireplace, flames flickering in his blank expression. It feels as though you’ve gone numb – unable to even summon the energy to soothe your brother. Your gaze is locked blankly on your free hand, throat tight with anxiety and dread. 

"You don't have to do this," James whispers furiously, abruptly abandoning his stewing to stare at you, "I can't believe he asked you to–"

"James." You tell him quietly. "It's fine."

"It's not fine!" He continues to whisper, turning to you fully now. "The bond is forever. It's an Unbreakable Vow. He's a fucking Death Eater. He's a blood purist."

"If you knew," you ask flatly, "that you could do something to save my life, would you?" You turn your head and meet his eyes. Surprise flickers on your brother's face before his lips press in a thin line. "Would you?" 

"Of course, I would. I would do anything." James says, the words hushed, "But–"

"I would too." You tell him, squeezing his hand. "For you or Sirius, I would do anything." Your lips quirk in a wry smile and you return your gaze to your fingers. "It's just my luck that I have to."

James doesn't seem to know how to respond to that particular conclusion, and he sinks back in his seat – squeezing your hand.

Marrying a Death Eater was, without a doubt, not part of your plan. You can't say you ever really had an image of whoever would be on the other side of the bond – but a murdering blood purist was certainly not on the table. Faintly, you recognize that it is all sort of funny. You’ve spent the last few years obsessing over how to dismantle Voldemort and his followers, only for you to marry one of them.

The urge to laugh evaporates quickly when you realize the life you wanted has gone up in flames. Your parents have always set the marriage standard since you were little. Fleamont and Euphemia have been soulmates since their first year of Hogwarts and they've never wavered in their adoration for one another – even when raising two children and through a devastating war. When James and Lily got married, it only further cemented your surety that one day it would happen for you. You believed that everyone in your family was just lucky with love.

The irony is enough to make you faint.

A light knock on the doorframe pulls you from your thoughts – which is quite fortunate, you think, as an embarrassing set of tears have begun to make their way down your face. Rapidly, you pull your hand from James' and wipe your eyes, cheeks burning from the fabric of your robes. Remus steps into the living room, gifting you with a soft smile.

"Alright?" He asks, with his natural way of conveying that he already knows. You fist your robes, nodding and giving him a faint smile. "I think we're about ready to leave." All you can do is nod again, and all at once, the room feels like it's rapidly losing oxygen. Remus seems to sense your spike in anxiety and he pads across the carpeted floor to crouch in front of you – wincing as his back pops.

"It won't be too bad, darling," he says, taking your hand and squeezing gently, "they won't make you take any Veritaserum or anything frightening. I think they all want this case to be over rather quickly, and no one wants to upset The Order." You nod, tongue feeling thick in your mouth. "They'll ask you a few questions, reach a verdict, and then we can go home."

"Will he–" your voice cracks and James' hand settles on your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze, "will he be there?"

"Probably," Remus tells you honestly, and you take the tip of your tongue between your teeth. "He'll be sitting in the back most likely, and probably surrounded by Aurors. He won't be anything to worry about."

That's rather nice to hear, you think drily, seeing as I'm marrying him tomorrow.

Remus glances at his watch, lips pressing together in a flat line. Your anxiety begins to climb.

"We should go," Remus says quietly, and James squeezes your shoulder again before standing and helping you up off the couch. Remus retrieves a small pouch from his pocket, making his way to the fireplace as he takes a small pinch of powder between his fingers. Tossing the tiny amount of powder, the flame roars as it turns emerald green. Remus turns and offers another quick smile before he steps into the flames and disappears with a whoosh. 

You’re next, staring at the green flames with burning eyes until James drops your hand and nudges you forward. You inhale deeply, squeezing your eyes shut before stepping into the flames. The room blurs around you before you appear rather suddenly at the entrance to the Ministry. Remus is standing at the edge of the fireplace, arm out for you to take as you step out and onto the marble floor. James appears with a gust of air behind you and stumbles out of the fireplace with a cough, brushing soot from his shoulder. 

“Merlin, I hate that,” he mutters, coming to stand beside you. 

Wizards in all colors and styles of robes bustle past you, some alone and some in groups. A few carry briefcases and some wear heels that click sharply on the immaculate marble floor. Chatter bounces off the walls of dark brick that tower over your head and you marvel at the stunning statues lined down the enormous hall – a variety of glimmering witches, wizards, centaurs, and countless others. Only Remus' hand on the small of your back pulls you from your admiration and rather quickly back to reality.

"The courtroom is just a few halls down," he explains as the three of you enter the throng of movement and make your way through the Ministry, "we're just a bit early." Sweat begins to bead on your forehead and your robes feel suffocating, the fabric clinging to your arms and chest. You fight the urge to place a hand at your throat to ensure you’re still breathing as Remus continues his quick explanation. "There will be a few formalities, just some legal rubbish. You’ll give your testimony, he’ll affirm it, and then they’ll reach a verdict."

Two large wooden doors come into view, large ornate letters reading WIZENGAMOT. It would all come across as incredibly posh if you weren't on the verge of a panic attack. Remus comes to a halt a few feet away from the doors and turns to you.

"Alright?" Remus asks you, the words heavy with concern. He reaches for you, a cool palm settling on the side of your neck. The gesture is grounding. His hazel eyes are full of comfort. You manage a weak smile, nodding just once, and Remus nods back before turning to the doors. His wand raises, and with a slight flick of his wrist, the large oak doors creak open.

The courtroom is quiet, save for the low murmurs from members of the court. All at once, you feel the weight of several pairs of eyes on you. Without thinking, you cast your eyes up toward the court. 

The unsettling blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore are the first you catch, plum robes stark against his long, white beard and pale skin. His stare is curious, almost amused, but deeply unsettling. You clench your jaw, pulling your gaze away as you follow Remus to the bench. Sirius is already sitting, his posture rigid and his hair pulled back in a low bun. Briefly, his brown eyes meet yours before they flicker away. Your heart gives a pitiful, wrenching throb before you swallow it down and settle in your seat.

The minutes pass in agonizing silence. Your nerves leave you to pick at your nails, avoiding the harsh stares by keeping your focus on your lap. The cuticle of your thumb begins to bleed and you bring it to your mouth with a curse, nausea swarming as the metallic taste fills your mouth. The heavy wooden doors continue to open and shut with heavy slams. Occasionally, you accidentally meet the chilling gaze of one of the members. Every glance is welling with pity or disdain. 

You’re not sure which is worse. 

Dumbledore's clear, sharp voice startles you as it breaks the low mumble of noise. “All rise, for the opening remarks.” 

Your knees wobble as you stand and you grip the back of the bench in front of you to keep yourself steady. The remarks pass in a blur, and at some point you return to the bench, hands anxiously smoothing down your thighs. A lot of jargon you don’t understand, a summary of the charges, and a quick introduction of the appeal. Relational motive is the term they seem to prefer when referring to the appeal. You fight the hysterical urge to snort. Finally, the speech comes to an end as Dumbledore clears his throat. 

“Will the accused be brought forward for the court?” 

Heavy, black doors, that you’ve somehow missed, creak at the far end of the courtroom. Sirius straightens, his fingers clenched into fists. The low hum of muttering fills the court again. Slowly, the doors grate against their hinges until they shudder to a stop, revealing a dark hallway. 

Two tall, serious-looking Aurors step out onto the marble floor. One is taller than the other, both in the dark robes of their profession. Their wands are drawn, but relaxed. Your fingertips press into your thighs, relishing in the grounding sting.

Behind the Aurors, a tall, lean figure makes his way to the center of the room. Black, shaggy curls are limp and greasy, his head bowed and hiding his face. Broad shoulders make clear impressions against the gray uniform, the bones far too defined. Sirius lurches forward in concern as the figure’s steps falter – almost as if he wasn’t sure his legs would hold him for a moment.

Despite his bedraggled appearance, there’s a certain aristocratic air to him. It seems to be a piece of his very essence. Long, elegant fingers are clasped together tightly at his waist, silver restraints clasped around his wrists, linking them together. Two more Aurors emerge behind him, the doors swaying before slamming shut. 

Your fingernails continue to dig into your thigh.  

Dumbledore cuts through the murmuring as he announces, “The appeal trial will begin as soon as the accused is seated.”

The murmurs crescendo.

One of the Aurors mutters something to the man handcuffed in the middle of the room, his head tipping slightly as they speak to him in a low voice. Two of the wizards make their way to the chair in the center of the room, standing on either side. The Auror speaking to him seems to inform him of something upsetting – his knuckles white as his fingers clench, shoulders pulling up to his ears. 

He lifts his head, light hitting his face, and a pit of dread opens in your stomach as you meet the flat, dark gaze of Regulus Black. 

⭒☆⭒

taglist: @coffeeaddictednymph @wbellab @houseofblackbaby @ainasadge

[soshiharin]

inside harin’s home

an: this is her home with dongwook. i tried my hardest to describe the layout of the house but if it doesnt make sense or u cant understand it, then watch this pls

harin’s masterlist

formal living room

the house is very much so retro

the formal living room is the first room you see after entering the house

its framed by a double staircase

theres a cute archway leading to the dining room

two couches bcs its a big room

two coffee tables bcs yes!

the tapestry and couch are against the wall to the right of the room along with that extra chair

the curtains are supes cute

and so is the rug

and a grand piano in the left corner of the room

not shown but there are french doors that open to the side of the house

dining room

so slay

the dining table can seat a lot of people

the first picture is the actual table and chairs, and the second picture is the living room, like, actual room yk?

cute chandelier

cute curtain

cute rug

and a fireplace (there are so many in this house)

not shown but there are french doors leading to the side of the home

kitchen

even more slay

might just be my fave room

its connected to the living room via service hallway

i literally just love everything about this kitchen

theres a little breakfast nook which is where dongrin have most of their meals if im being honest

french doors opening to the patio

besides the doors from each room, theres a hallway that goes from the entrance to the left side of the house (it faces the front of the house)

family room

cozy and fun

this is across from the kitchen, walking through the hallway if that makes sense

this is the less formal living room

the tv is disguised as the picture on top of the fireplace

those little hole things are saur cool

a record player setup along the wall

the sideboard is behind the middle couch

that small table thing is on each side of the couches

the shelf made it to this house!

gotta love the rug

and a little reading nook in the corner of the house

also french doors leading to the patio

backyard

the patio and backyard everyone!

theres like a little outdoor kitchen for if they ever to decide to have a party or something

and the backyard is BIG

all of that space for the dogs to run (and any future kids🤭)

and a swimming pool slayyyy

its relatively big

master bedroom

this room is on the far right of the upstairs (there are four other rooms on the right)

the second picture is the entrance-ish and the door there connects to the bathroom

the first picture is one of the entrances to the bathroom

cozy ass bed

and cute rug ofc!

she bought another shelf

the little seating area with the tv and fireplace

and a sideboard next to the fireplace

bathroom

hygiene slay

the sink is against the wall that the bed is against

big ass shower and the bath is next to it

theres obvi a toilet i just forgot to put a picture

then theres a walk in closet to the far right, past the bedroom entrance to the bathroom

theres a hallway abd and then the actual closet

and a rug

©️ jang harin

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.57 The resort

Winter arrived, and I couldn't even tell. The pleasantly warm temperature was the same as every other day that week, like autumn in San Sequoia, and I loved it. At least it didn't rain, though. I in no way had any regrets about moving in with Sophia, but I missed San Sequoia a lot—a whole lot. There was just something about that colorful town that resonated with me. With any luck, we could move back one day, but for now, Oasis Springs was my dusty new home.

Good thing I didn't have a traditional job, or otherwise Sophia and I would struggle to find time together. Not only did she work an early shift, but also she worked on weekends and had two random days off in the middle of the week. But that also meant I'd only have a few hours each day to get everything I needed to get done before she got home if we wanted to maximize our time together. I could have gone back to San Sequoia to host a class or two, but I used the time to shop for a few items for the house and put up my pictures. I was no design diva like Mama, but I hoped Sophia would be pleasantly surprised when she walked through the door.

After the decor adventure, I went for a jog, and would you believe it rained after I had just given Oasis Springs props for not raining on me? Rude. Maybe the latter part of the year was just rainier everywhere in general and I never noticed until now.

Next to our house was an empty lot, and even though I'd jogged past it a few times, it stood out that day and got me thinking. How much would it cost to build a very small, very basic studio? The question intrigued me so much I canceled my second lap and went back home to do some research. The price of the land was relatively cheap, which meant the lot taxes would probably be low as well. So far, I had no reason to not consider this path, but I tucked the idea away for another time because I became distracted by learning about a spa resort right here in Oasis Springs. The resort, named Desert Bloom Spa Hotel, was conveniently located near our neighborhood. I still had a few more hours before Sophia got back, so I went to check it out.

I had only entered the lobby and already fell in love with the place. It was so clean, modern, and peaceful. Maybe one day Sophia and I could do a weekend getaway—a staycation of sorts. Well, definitely not on the weekend, but you know what I meant. I found someone who worked there and asked if I could look around, and to my surprise, she volunteered to take me on a tour and began in the dining room, which was just across the breezeway from the front desk.

They served continental breakfast, snacks during the day, and tapas at night. At the heart of the facility, there was a sprawling fountain that spanned almost the entire length of the spa. The poolside bar was pretty big too. Tables and chairs were scattered all around the fountain, giving plenty of room for everyone to hang out and chill over a nice drink.

They even had a two-level gym with enough machines to accommodate nearly anyone wishing to workout during their stay. Not even my gym in Newcrest had that many machines. This place was really growing on me, and I wondered if I could frequent it without a reservation.

Up next were the residential suites. We couldn't go in them, of course, but they were duplex style, side-by-side suites that mirrored each other. They shared a common pool, and I got to peek inside a little from the patio door. They looked nice enough inside. I think we could be happy there for a few days--not that we'll be sitting around looking at the wallpaper, heh.

The yoga area was outside across from the suites and pool, and MAN I was so inspired. I rarely thought about opening my own yoga studio. Honestly, it was yet another one of Mama's ideas that eventually bored its way into my subconscious. But sometimes the idea was strong enough that it felt like it came from my own mind, and I really wanted to do it. Looking at their setup gave me so many ideas for how I could craft mine when the time came.

Hopefully, they also had an indoor facility because it started raining again. I would hate to be a paying customer who wasn't able to take any classes because of the weather. Watcher forbid they still carried on, regardless. I asked my tour guide if they ever did guided meditations and explained I was a yoga instructor myself and led guided meditations in San Sequoia. This intrigued her, and she promised to discuss it with the owner.

Turns out they didn't have an indoor yoga room, but the meditation room was upstairs. The spa rooms were also upstairs, but my tour guide didn't let me go in for obvious reasons. But she said there was a sauna, two tables inside, and multiple massage chairs on the upper deck. The lobby for the massage rooms was just as clean and peaceful as the front desk, so I knew the service rooms would be too.

I was so wrapped up in the tour I didn't realize the time. Sophia had already arrived home, and I missed the opportunity to show her the things I bought. True, she could see them as soon as she walked in, but I wanted to be the one to show her. But in Sophia-like fashion, she began raving about how much she loved the rug and blinds as soon as I walked in.

Luckily, she hadn't seen the other room yet, so I got to show her the couch for the office, and she loved that too.

"Thanks for moving the desk and fitting the couch in there. I know it's not easy getting things in and out of here."

It was no trouble. After all, I was a very strong man, heh.

I joined her on the couch and asked about her day. Thankfully, it was much better than yesterday but still kind of meh. I guess that's the answer a lot of sims gave since it was so common to work a job one didn't love. I wanted better for her and didn't enjoy seeing her live a mediocre life. Hopefully, one day my yoga business would be so good she wouldn't have to work if she didn't want to. I just wanted her to be happy.

The conversation reached a lull, and she took the opportunity to change the subject and ask me a very serious question.

"So how are you feeling about living here?"

To be continued...

The resort is a golden oldie by @jenba!