#also some of you know of odette

[kudzuoath]

Needful Things

With the reappearance of symptoms foretelling of his arcane hunger, Gale seeks out the party’s paladin to plead his case. He needs help. Hopefully Odette is the kind of person he believes her to be. 

Or, Gale and Odette experience mutual attraction and care. Neither one of them acknowledges it.

—

The party’s paladin was taciturn, and brutal on the field of battle. Not someone he typically would have felt drawn to. But then he watched the way Odette interacted with the tiefling children at the grove. Kindly. With a soft voice and a reassuring hand.

Or in the case of the little helion Mol, with a grin and a witty rejoinder that came to her lips as if it were second nature.

There were other things, too. The way she threw herself headlong into danger, flaming greatsword first, the moment she spotted someone in need. How she treated each battle like a game of lanceboard – or the way she carefully handled and collected the books they came across in their travels.

That last bit was the first thing he’d noticed actually – only someone who loved them the way he did would handle them with such care. Even the copies she set back down. It’s not what he expected from a warrior – though perhaps he was letting his biases get the better of him with that.

There was something about her. Under the blood and the bared teeth and the black tattoos covering her neck and forearms. A cleverness. A curiosity. And tying it all together, a surprising kindness.

So one evening in camp he approached her. She was sitting close to the fire, hunched over a tome they’d found in the ruined temple of Jergal.

“That looks like a fascinating read,” he said, unable to help himself.

Odette startled. She nearly took his leg out with her tail when it whipped back and forth. “What?”

“The book?”

“Oh – oh. Yes.” With a faint frown, she closed it and gave him her full attention. Her mismatched eyes were curious – but wary. Not unusual for her, he’d noticed. Though he had also just managed to sneak up on her.

“Did – you need something, Gale?”

“Well, all this travel and adventure has made it somewhat difficult to find my moment, but there’s something rather important I need to speak with you about – if you would be inclined to listen to me this fine evening.”

“Isn’t everything these days?” She gestured at the log she’d perched on, the faintest of half smiles breaking through her stoicism. “Have a seat. Unspool your woes. You won't be the first.”

He itched to ask more about the book. But that wasn’t what he was here for. “How shall I begin… ah! Yes! The beginning. You see, since you freed me from that stone I found myself trapped in I have seen you demonstrate remarkable guile and courage –”

Her smile dropped for some reason. And – was her gaze a little frosty all of the sudden? Did she not believe him?

“ – The way you diffused the tension between Aradin and Zevlor! How you convinced Kagha to release the girl. Or charged in to save that boy from those harpies. And you’ve demonstrated a fair amount of temperance as well – many a paladin would have run that fellow at the bottom of Jergal’s temple through, even though he’d shown no will to harm us! In short, I’ve grown to trust you, Odette.”

Silence. For several seconds that, by the third one, were starting to send prickles of unease down his spine. My but didn’t this woman have a stare on her that could freeze fire! The thing was, he couldn’t see what he’d done to invite it.

Though… perhaps it was just her face? It wasn’t the first time. She only really seemed to gentle around the very young, or very vulnerable. Perhaps it took conscious effort to do so.

“I see.” Another pause. “You’re being genuine, aren’t you?”

He balked. “Of course I am! I am many things, but I’ve never been accused of lying about my feelings towards others.”

That faint smile returned, and she let out a soft little laugh under her breath. She shook her head and ran a hand through her short raven curls with a sigh. “No, you wouldn’t would you? You have my apologies, Gale. I’m not particularly used to people being so complimentary.”

“With how often you save people?” He couldn’t help but ask.

“Gratitude and… flattery are different things, I think. Or… compliments, isn’t it? That’s what they are when they’re genuine…” This last bit was to herself.

He might have been offended if not for how clearly baffled she was. Personally, he didn’t know what to make of her reaction. It was… odd. And it made him wonder what she’d been doing before the Nautiloid captured them. What roads had their Paladin walked? And what Oath now kept her?

“Well, nevertheless,” he said, pushing forward. “The reason I make a point of saying this is that I’ve grown confident enough to tell you something I’ve yet to tell another living soul. Except for my cat.”

She turned to face him fully now. The only hint of emotion he could glean from her face was in the tilt of her head, and the slight furrow beginning to form between her brows. His heart leapt into his throat as the moment came to bear down on him. This was it. He may well find himself a wizard alone. And he was no Elminster – particularly not now, between the tadpole and the orb.

“You see I have this… condition. Very different from the parasite we share. And just as deadly.”

“Can it be cured?” she asked. Immediate, serious. She was sitting at attention and leaning in, examining him with fresh eyes and real, visible concern. He noted the moment she spotted the darkened veins around his eye, and began to follow them down to where they vanished under his shirt. Surely not the first time they’d been noticed. But the first they might hold her any significance.

The way she looked at him. Ready to leap to his aid. It made his throat feel a little tight. And brought to mind his befeathered and bewhiskered friend back in Waterdeep.

“No, it cannot be cured,” he said softly. Swallowing around a lump in his throat. He cleared it and sat up straighter himself. “And I can assure you I left no page unturned in reaching that conclusion.”

Odette seemed to draw back slightly as he said this, eyes shuttered. Something he couldn’t blame her for, given he’d all but told her his days were numbered. Woe betide them all should she learn of exactly how numbered all of their days might be, purely by virtue of his company.

Though that revelation… that one he’d keep close to the chest a while longer. If he were very lucky – lucky enough to survive the tadpole, and find his way back to his tower – she need never know the extent of the threat he posed.

“I can keep this condition under control, as indeed I've done for a significant amount of time! But that was under different circumstances altogether. Home, in Waterdeep.”

“Gale… stop blowing hot air and tell me what you need.” Her voice cracked on the last word, and her hands were fists in her trousers.

“What it comes down to is this,” he said, holding up a finger. He was patently unable to give up his habit of lecturing. Particularly with his nerves strung tight enough to snap and his heart a throbbing drum trying to choke him. He trusted her. He could only hope she proved worthy of it. He thought she would. Hoped.

“Every so often, I need to get my hands on a powerful magical item and absorb the Weave inside.”

There.

“...Are you telling me you’re addicted to magic?” Odette said. Her voice was flat, toneless. But her hands were no longer fists.

“What? No – no. It’s nothing like that. Magic isn’t some – some narcotic to me. It’s literally a lifesaver.”

She stared at him. “It’s not that I doubt you – only that I’ve seen what can happen to people addicted to drink when they go too long without it.” Her voice darkened. “What they can do to people. And how, ultimately, the lack of it can kill them.”

The unfortunate thing was, she had a point with that comparison. Even if it didn't apply here.

“Were it an addiction, it might provide some other benefit than keeping me alive,” he said. And realized a moment after doing so that technically, it did. In that it was also keeping everyone and everything else in his vicinity alive and intact. But – no. Not that. Not now. “It is more a salve for a burn, medicine for an infection – though it wont cure what ails me.”

A new tension in her shoulders drained away. “I see.”

“I would not burden anyone other than myself with this were the stakes not so high, and the means of obtaining such artifacts challenging for a humble wizard to face alone.” He leaned forward. Fear sawed at him now. He hadn’t expected her to agree outright of course – he still didn’t. But he had to absorb something, and soon. Elsewise all might well be lost, tadpole be damned. “It’s been a tenday at least since I last consumed an artifact – since before we were abducted. It’s only a matter of time before my craving returns.”

In truth, he could feel it already. An unpleasant tingling numbness deep in his chest. One that made his heart beat just slightly out of tune. That froze his lungs. It was only a bit of morning frost at the moment. But all too soon he would be reduced to gasping on his back, hands pressed to his chest as if that might hold the snarling demon within at bay.

“That is why I turn to you, I need you to help me find magic items to consume,” he said. Intense. Unable to help himself even though he’d planned the rational facade. His hand was pressed over his hammering heart, fingers clawed in his shirt. The memory of what was soon to come biting under his palm. “It is vital. Dare I say it, critical.”

There weren’t words to describe the danger. His panic at perhaps being rejected. He would turn to petty thievery if he must. Not for his own sake, but for the sake of every living being around them, should it come to that. He would need them, if only to clear enough ground so as to minimize the hells he would unleash in his death.

Odette was watching him with a new wariness. His intensity had perhaps been… a little much. But once he’d noticed that creeping hunger in his chest… the panic had taken root in his tongue. Though it might prove needful. And may well have served to illustrate his genuine need better than if he’d managed to remain collected.

“Where are we going to find these items?” she said.

That wasn’t a no.

“We’ve already done the finding – in fact you have one in your possession as we speak.” He gestured to where her greatsword lay. It glowed like a dying ember, even sheathed. “You know for yourself how hardwon such an item was and it will be no easier when even more are required to assuage my hunger.”

As he’d said before – he was no liar. He wouldn’t pretend this would be easy. The least of what he owed her was that honesty.

“There will be danger involved. Or great cost.”

Odette’s eyes had remained on her sword as he spoke. He’d heard the tale of how she’d gotten it. On the Nautiloid. From a devil. His understanding was that it had been a difficult battle, barely won and only undertaken out of sheer desperation with the temporary alliance of her illithid captors. Giving her allies the time they needed to reach the alien transponder that had ultimately dumped them all into this wilderness.

She let out a long sigh, and unsheathed the weapon. Flames danced up and down the blade, merrily viscous. Its sudden heat made the night air steam slightly around them. Very carefully, she offered him the hilt, and met his gaze.

“Take it."

Gale’s mouth didn’t quite fall open, but it was near thing. He stared at the sword instead.

And then his panic melted away like so much snow falling on a wildfire. He’d expected… well. He hadn’t known what to expect. But Odette disarming herself was not among them. He’d been right. As he typically was of course. Right to trust her. Right to tell her. Like his panic, his tension drained too. And all at once the symptoms of his hunger felt far less pressing.

For indeed, they were less pressing. It was the fear. There was still time. And to feed it too soon… it might upset the balance. Might increase its need to consume. He would have a hard enough time keeping up with it as things were. No need to tempt fate.

“I knew I could count on you!” he said. “And – and utterly pleased as I am by your enthusiasm, there is still time. I did not leave things quite until the last moment. I’m a good deal cleverer than that! Keep your weapon for now. Perhaps we shall find something less dear to be parted with. Faerun overflows with magically infused treasure after all!”

Odette considered him for a moment, but re-sheathed her sword.

Then, in a move that made his heartbeat stutter she set her hands on his shoulders and squeezed lightly.

“Thank you. For asking for help, Gale. I know… it’s not an easy thing.”

Her gaze was as true as her heart was. And he found himself wondering how he’d written her off, no matter how briefly. A wizard she was not. But perhaps she was something just as good. A truly, deeply, decent soul. No matter her viciousness in a fight.

“Nor your promise to sacrifice these items, Odette,” he said, his voice dropping with softness unfeigned. “I know what I am asking –”

“There’ll always be magic daggers and enchanted rings,” she said, cutting him off. “You’re the only Wizard of Waterdeep I know, though. Don’t…” she swallowed. He caught a glimpse of an old pain on her face. One that made those eyes – one brown and one purple – look so lightless he might have been frightened had the emotion not been so clearly one of hurt. Her grip tightened slightly on his shoulders and she wouldn’t meet his eyes. When she finished her thought, it was in a whisper soft voice. “Don’t kill yourself with your silence.

He lifted his hands to cover hers. “Believe me, I shan’t be quiet should my need arise.”

“Good.”

For a moment, they watched each other. And Gale couldn’t help but think of how long it had been since mortal hands – or the hands of anyone at all – had touched him. There had only been Tara. His heart beat stuttered as he looked at the planes of her face, illuminated by the firelight. It was a beautiful sight. He found himself wishing to stroke his thumb over the black flame tattooed on her forehead for some odd reason. Or better, to follow the curved pattern of dark flames along her jaw with his fingertips.

Odette was smiling back at him, and there was a softness there. But then she seemed to notice their closeness. She let go of him abruptly and pulled back. Put distance between them as she busied herself with setting aside her sword, with repacking the book.

He was all at once given the impression of many doors closing and locking one after another. By the time she turned back to look at him, her face was settled back into its normal vaguely intimidating neutrality.

“I should try to get some sleep,” she said. “And so should you. We need to find where those bloody goblins have holed up with the Druid. Interesting as that ruin turned out, our new friend is not the cure we’ve been looking for.”

“Indeed not,” he agreed, standing. He recognized a dismissal, no matter how kindly given. He made a dramatic gesture and half bowed. “Dear lady, may you sleep the sleep your kindness so richly deserves!”

She let out a surprised laugh, that mask breaking again. “And may you rest your eternally wagging tongue, dear wizard.”

A dig, but she said it with a fondness he found gratifying. He wasn’t unaware of his talkative nature, when he’d been given half the chance to chatter. Good that she seemed to like it.

“I shall do my very best to oblige.”

Gale returned to his tent with a lightness in his heart most unfamiliar, and a smile he would have been hard pressed to extinguish.

[ahollowgrave]

-- friends.

[sleepingfancies]

And now Odette is on the brain too. Its so over

[myblacknightworld]

Randomly thinking about the merandette royal au again 😔✌️ sorry for the bad quality, I haven't used sketchbook in years and i don't rember how to adjust the pixel thingy

For those who don't know, I created this au on discord with @livehorses and another friend like, 3/4 years ago

More under the cut

So, more about this au - and I'm reading straight from my notes -

Mérante

Mérante is the king

For some reason in this au Regine is his step-sister, and Camille "works" at the palace as a companion lady or however they're called

When he was younger, and still a prince, he was bethroted to Odette, but the bethrotal was abandoned

When I say he is shook when he finds out where Odette is ✌️

Odette

Odette is from a noble family

HOWEVER her family was already on their last leg when she was younger

What can I say, they weren't making much money and some family members spent more than they could afford

Which is why her father was searching for a good husband. Rich.

The surprise when, lo and behold, Odette became friends with the prince and well, a bethrotal was struck

Unfortunately there was a fire at the family's mansion, her family perished and Odette sustained an injury that crippled her for life. Swell, right?

LIFE OF POVERTY

:(

But hey!

Nothing turns your life around more than catching a little thief who decides she's gonna adopt you as a parental figure, amirite?

Being in need of a job, because now she's got a kid (Félicie) and a half (Victor) depending on her and she's got next to no money, she decides to ask for a job at the royal palace

They start working at the palace and drama ensues because well

Mérante lives there and they were bethroted

Félicie

Félicie, like in canon, decides to run away from the orphanage with Victor

Thieving and robbing is so much better than being a child slave for some rich people

When she's 8, she tries to rob Odette, but Odette caught her

Odette lets her go after much begging and pleading, but Félicie decides to stick around because she's understood that Odette is a kind person underneath her rough exterior

They live like that for a while with Victor popping up from time to time

And then Odette says they're moving to the palace because she's got a job

Of course, she gets into so much trouble, but she also manages to make friends with Nora and Dora, two girls who work as companion ladies for Lady Regine (they hate that so much)

She's there when Mérante finds out Odette is working at the palace and well, after prying part of the story from Odette

She hires Nora and Dora for a marriage plot

More on the story, generally speaking

Regine has a plot to get rid of her step-brother via unspecified murder

It is quite important, yes

When there was the fire, Mérante did search for Odette, but couldn't find her and believed her dead

Which is also why Odette is angry with him when they meet again at the palace

She didn't know he did search for her and believed he'd abandoned her

So much drama!!!!

Anyway, after drama, hijinks of various nature, Victor who sneaks in and starts working as the royal buffoon, Regine who definitely hates there's someone there who could become queen and tries to send the two of them away

Marriage!

So now Odette is queen and Félicie finds herself a princess

Félicie becomes friends with Camille, after getting to know her when her mother is not there and she is not under pression

Enter Rudy (and his father) stage left

His father really, really, really wants his son to be married (or bethroted at least) before he croaks, and which reign just got itself a princess?

This is not a deus ex machina, why are you asking

Anyway, back to the main plot, a few months after the happily ever after for her brother, Regine decides that kidnapping the wife and child is a good idea, because then she can try to poison Mérante and blame Odette and Félicie

I am still straight up copying from my notebook btw

The unlikely alliance of Rudy and Victor does thwart Regine's plan, though.

And Camille does help Odette and Félicie when a second murder attempt ensues

My notes end here quite abruptly

Much sad

:(

[ahollowgrave]

oooh, ok if you insist!! her name is Selenite and she's a shard of my WoL/RP OC Odette!

Selenite, or Nite to friends, is a fortune teller (using bones) and perpetually tired young woman! She specializes in death omens but is happy to peer into the future for most questions! There is always a wait list to see her and she makes an effort to lessen people's fear of death. She chose to remove her regulator following the loss of someone important -- not that she can recall them, only in the vaguest of ways. On the very fringes of a few groups like Oblivion, supportive of their mission(s) but unwilling to commit fully. Her eyes were not compatible with living in S9 and so she had them altered -- this part is pretty self indulgent because... cool eyes are cool! Incredibly chill, pro-bit, maker of questionable choices. Almost always has a coffee or energy drink (the ones that make you gay) nearby. Quick to make friends, quick to make space for people.

xiv tumblr indulge my brainworms show me your solution 9 ocs

[softgrungeprophet]

one of these days i'll draw some of the other dancers....

[cochart]

My shuake mini zine is up! Read the rest in the zine.

It’s free for download so don’t feel pressured to pay.

I normally would have made a post of it, but Tumblr only allows 10 images and I’m 3 pages over.

Thanks always for your kind words by the way.

Anyway, I hope you like it even though summer is over! I mean, with global warming, summer never seems to be over.

Basically, I wanted to draw some star related comic for summer as I did with Orion.

I thought Personal Royal trio (Joker, Akechi and Kasumi) kinda goes well with the Summer Triangle which is Vega, Altair, and Deneb.

Vega and Altair are more blatant lover stars unlike Rigel and Betelgeuse which I guess feel more like rivals or duo? But what better stars to show some summer romance?

Also, I thought Sumire goes well with Deneb which is the brightest star of Cygnus. I know she’s more Cinderella themed, but come on. She would also make great Odette and you can easily imagine her as a ballerina as well.

Also my headcanon is that Goro pretty much hates most festivities including his own birthday, Valentines, Christmas, and any festival including Tanabata because he seldom had any chance to enjoy them with anyone.

[mountainsandmayhem]

BDSMaid - Chapter 6

Series Summary: After recently graduating you take what is supposed to be a job to save money before you go back to university to get your law degree. Your best friend offers you a job cleaning luxury homes for clients you’ll never know. Easy. Simple. Mundane. Until one of your clients is home and everything you felt was missing in your life starts to fall into place. This goes against the NDA you signed and you could get fired. Or worse, you could fall in love. 

CW: 18+ MDNI. In order to avoid spoilers, all tags are under the cut in small red lettering. Reader does have some body descriptions so more of an oc than female reader.

AN: I don't think I understood the term "labour of love" until right now. I'm emotionally exhausted yet so fucking proud at the same time. Thank you @lotusbxtch for fixing all my grammar and formatting. I also couldn't of done this without @mermaidgirl30 , @littlevenicebitch69, @alltheirdamn, and @for-a-longlongtime (even if you did just try to distract me with Santi the entire time LOL)

Word Count: 14.6k (sorry, grab a snack or two)

Series Masterlist | My Masterlist | AO3

CW: use of petnames, mention of losing a spouse, mentions of child abuse (mostly verbal), use of nick names (baby, sweet girl, etc.), dirty talk, spanking, sexual activity in public, kissing, protected p in v, oral (female receiving), consumption of alcohol, mutual pining, mentions of falling in love, Dom/sub dynamics.

You: 911, I need to go buy a dress, but ya’ll can’t ask me what it’s for Laren: no strings attached shopping? Fuck yeah!  You: I’m serious though Laren: Dude, I won’t ask you as long as you don’t ask about the hickey on my neck Jamie: Damn, my dad’s in California so I can’t leave the office. You: hmm…maybe we just tell each other one secret each Laren: oh sorry, forgot I have to vacuum my cat today, can’t shop You: fine, no asking about the hickey. Pick you up at noon? Jamie: Have fun. I need a sugar daddy. Odette: booo! I’m studying. Someone alert me when we learn about the hickey. 

You

Laren’s jaw drops as you step out of the dressing room, the soft silk of the floor length black gown skims against your body. Your eyes trail down the thin straps along your shoulders and down the deep v that sits low on your sternum. You’ve never appreciated your small breasts until now. The risque cut has a soft and romantic feel. Somehow, so does the long slit up your one leg, stopping much higher than most black tie venues would find acceptable. You spin to take in the way the silk dips low on your back. Yeah, Joel Miller is going to love this. 

“You look stunning. I’m not gonna ask, but whoever you’re wearing that for is going to fall in love with you. I might fall in love with you.”

You laugh at her, watching as she tugs the collar of her sweater up to cover the very prominent purple hickey on her pulse point. If only she knew how ridiculous that statement really was. Joel Miller, your dom, falling in love with you. It’s impossible. 

The big box that you stuffed the small, pink and bedazzled box in snickers in your mind then taunts you in her uppity British accent. He loves you, remember how he held your hand so tenderly through that last orgasm? “It’s a date”, “It’s only you”. 

You shake your head and run your hands down your torso and hips, the silk feeling like water under your hands. 

“Wow, that dress was made for you.” The peppy store clerk says as she rounds the corner to the dressing room. “Oh! I have just the accessory, if you don’t mind me showing you?”

You nod and then look over at Laren through the mirror. The two of you haven’t been friends for that long, but it doesn’t take a genius to realize she’s not wearing her massive engagement ring, plus that giant love bite; something is off. “I’m not gonna ask about the hickey, but are you ok?”

“Ya - I’m fine, why?” Her phone goes off in her purse for what feels like the hundredth time since you picked her up. She hasn’t looked at it once and this newest alert doesn’t change that.  

“No reason. I’m here for you though. I hope you know that.” The corners of her mouth lift, but that vivacious sparkle in her eye doesn’t make an appearance. 

You spend longer than you ever had getting ready on Friday. You’ve shaved, exfoliated and moisturized every inch of your skin. You painted your fingers and toes with a fresh coat of pearly white polish, noticing that the skin around your cuticles on your hands isn’t picked clean. For the first time in your life, your anxiety hasn’t needed its usual outlet; picking and pushing at your nails until they’re clean. Even with the last few days kicking your ass, Mister Miller made it better, made you better.

After about three hours, you’ve completed the look: big loose curls, one side pinned behind one ear with a gold clip, exposing the soft slope of your neck that Joel loves to press his lips to. You’ve opted for a neutral glam look; a light smokey grey eye, flirty lashes, a touch of blush and highlighter and a nude lip. 

You keep the jewelry simple, just thin gold hoop earrings and two dainty golden chains, the accessories that the sales girl picked out. The first chain is the longest; one end loops tight to your throat then lays down your sternum, a small clip on the other end holds it in place to the lacy black thong you bought for the occasion. The second chain wraps around your exposed thigh. A few small crystals dangle off the garter. It feels perfect for a sex club, almost like you’re being tied up in gold. 

After wrapping the gift you bought for Joel today you debate taping the dress in place. It’s a sex club, surely a nip slip isn’t the worst thing that can happen. However, Joel would probably forcefully remove anyone who got a peek. As tempting as it is to witness that, you decide to save his sanity for one more day and after placing the last piece of tape you hear the rev of his engine coming down your street. Butterflies erupt in your stomach, it’s been weeks since you’ve heard that sound. That deep rumble will probably always fill you with an excited anticipation of seeing Mister Miller. 

You agreed to let him pick you up tonight since Odette is out. You slip your perfectly pedicured toes into black heeled sandals, working the small golden buckle around the ankle quickly as Joel’s shiny black Jag parks in front of your building. You watch from the window as he gets out of the driver's side door, flowers wrapped in brown paper clutched in his hand. A man that size doesn’t look like he’d fit in that sleek sports car. 

Even from your birdseye view from the fourth floor he looks absolutely gorgeous. You’re sure once he’s right in front of you he’ll be devastatingly handsome, especially once he’s added the gift you got him. Similar to you, he’s in all black tonight. 

The beep of his car locking and the buzz of your door go at the same time and you excitedly hit the button to let him up. It feels like hours before there’s a light knock on your front door. After a shaky breath, you open the door.

Fuuuuuck me, you think as you take him in and actively stop yourself from drooling.

He looks as hot as sin dressed in all black, the lapels of the jacket and the tie slightly silky against the flat black of the rest of his clothing. He’s the living, breathing epitome of JMKink right now. Dressed like that matte black letterhead he still leaves you notes on when you clean for him. You lick your lips as your eyes trail back up his tie. Fuck, you want him to wrap it around your wrists. 

He steps into your front entrance and the apartment feels so much smaller; almost like he takes up every bit of space and simultaneously sucks all the air out of you. His hair is parted to the side, trimmed neatly around his ears, curls perfectly placed. You’re sure it was effortless on his part, just running his fingers through it after getting out of the shower, towel wrapped low on his hips. Your mouth waters as you continue to just stare at one another. 

Joel

“Wow,” he finally manages to rasp. His throat feels like it's full of sand all of a sudden. He clears it gently before continuing. “You look…you’re always beautiful, but you are…”

His eyes travel up and down your body again, he’s feeling lost for words which is not something that happens to him often. He watches your bottom lip slip between your teeth, waiting for him to form a thought.

“Sorry, sweet girl, I need a second here.” He places the bouquet of wildflowers on the small table at the entry then reaches out towards you. He actually feels like he might die if he doesn’t kiss you soon. The whorls and calluses of his fingers drag down the warm, soft skin of your arm gently before he closes his hand around yours. Usually, he loves how small your hand looks in his, but he’s finding it impossibly hard to break eye contact with you right now. As he steps in closely you smile sweetly at him and he’s surrounded by the smell of mint, lavender and something distinctly you. “You look life-alteringly gorgeous. I’m not sure if that’s a word, but wow, Freckles.”

You place your free hand on his chest and he’s sure you can feel how hard his heart is pounding behind his chest. Fuck, he wouldn’t be surprised if you could hear his heart at this point. He cups your face with his other hand and presses his lips to yours, reveling in the way you melt into him, parting your lips and letting him deepen the kiss. He swallows the quiet moan that you make just for him. You pull away too quickly for him, an excited smile across your face.

“I got you something!” You spin and he’s left breathless again by the low back of the dress and the way the silk skirt sways with your hips. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” he says, following you into the living area of your small apartment. “I don’t want you spending your money on me, sweetheart.”

You spin again and his cock twitches as he catches just how high the slit of the skirt is, and the golden jewelry wrapped around your thigh. In your hands is a large, light brown box tied with a black ribbon. “Technically, I spent your money on you,” you say with a wink. “Open it.”

He steps in close, watching your face go from excited to downright giddy as he pulls at the ribbon. He slips the lid off the box and stares down at the exact same black Stetson that he sent with Tiffany. His heart stops beating as the memories, both good and bad, flood through him. This is the same hat he wore the night he met her, the night of their first date, the night he told her he loved her for the first time, the night he married her. Joel Miller doesn’t believe in signs from the universe, but this? This is something. 

No, he thinks as emotions start to clog his throat. This was Tiffany. 

He blinks away the tears that threaten to form behind his eyes and whispers your name. “Thank you, sweetheart. I - I used to have a hat just like this.”

When he looks back at you your brows are furrowed together, a genuine curiosity across your face. “Used to?”

He clears his throat again, “Yea, it’s complicated, but this - this means more to me than you could ever know.”

He slips his hands into the box, the felt of the brim spreads a warm comfort up his hands and forearms. He swallows hard as he realizes it’s the same comfort he feels when he has you in his arms. 

Oh my god…I think, no, I know. I love you.

It hits him so hard that he has to clutch the hat tighter in his hands to ground himself as he pulls it from the box. He knew he was falling, he knew the second he saw you. He can’t push it down anymore. 

“I’m sorry if I overstepped, Joel.”

He turns the hat over in his hands, the black satin liner exactly like his old one. He looks up at you, no longer able to stop the smile or the tears that flood his lash line. Your lips part as your eyes dance around his. 

“No, baby, you didn’t. I’ve, well, I’ve been really missing this hat lately.”

“You gonna try it on, cowboy?” The sultry flirtiness of your voice feels sweet on his skin and after a shallow breath he brings the hat up to his head. As the satin slips over his hair a calm confidence washes over him. His eyes meet yours and your flirty smile turns shy as you blush under his gaze. He’s whole again. 

“So?”

“I’m gonna have to fight the women off, I think.” You say softly.

He laughs, moving the box from your hands back to the table and then cradling your face in his hands. “I’ll only be looking at one woman, my sweet girl.” His lips meet yours gently, your tongue swiping softly against his lip as your slant into the kiss. 

I love you.

You

You weren’t sure what kind of reaction you’d get from Joel giving him the hat, but his eyes welling up and his breathing getting all shaky was not what you expected. Something about that hat called to you when you saw it. When you picked it up, the soft felt against your palms reminded you of how it feels to be in Joel’s hands. 

He breaks the kiss with a sigh and glances around your apartment. Months ago you would have felt shy or self conscious about Joel in your space, so wholly different from his, but he has never judged you for anything, and you feel yourself becoming more and more comfortable with him which is not a feeling you’re used to. His eyes fall to the scratched wooden coffee table that you got for free from Craigslist.

“You have college letters,” he says proudly, looking back at you.

Your arms cross across your body subconsciously, like they’re trying to shield you from the possibility of being rejected again. “Ya, the last two came today. I’ll open them later.”

“Baby, let's open them! It could be good news.”

He looks so goddamn handsome, in a suit that probably costs more than the entire contents of your apartment and his new black Stetson hat. His expression is encouraging, that same look from his kitchen when you ate some toast; prideful and empathetic. 

“I’m scared,” you almost blurt, wishing you could be smoother with this man. “I don’t want to ruin tonight. If these are both no’s, I don’t know how great of company I’ll be tonight.”

“Freckles, I’m not going to force you into anything you don’t want. But I think you’ll be thinking of the letters either way.”

“Ah, my consent stands even for mail,” you joke.

“Well, it's a federal offense to open someone else's mail so…” Joel winks and flashes a devastating smile your way. 

“Ok,” you close your eyes and take a deep breath. He’s right, you’ll be wondering all night what those letters say, and Joel has a way of making you forget, making you feel understood, important and cared for. “Do it.”

As if he’s a child on Christmas morning and you just gave him the ok, he snatches up the University of Austin and Berkeley letters, almost vibrating as he says, “Which one first?”

You start to pace the few steps of your living room, wringing your hands together as your heels click on the cheap laminate hardwood. “Austin, I’ll be less upset by a no from them.”

The tear of the envelope sounds like a dagger to the ribs as you go to grab the flowers Joel brought for you, desperate for something to do besides stand there. 

“It’s a thick envelope..” Joel says as he slides the letter out.

“Ya, I’ve learned that that doesn’t mean shit,” You say sardonically.

Joel laughs in surprise, “Always shocks me to hear that pretty little mouth swear.”

“Yea?” You ask, “Open the fucking letter, you’re killing me.”

Joel snorts as his strong fingers gingerly fold open the letter. His eyes shoot to yours, “You got in!”

“W-What?” You drop the flowers on the counter top and cover your mouth.

“Sweet girl, you got in. I’m - I’m so fucking proud of you.”

You stand frozen on the spot. It’s not the school you wanted, you want Berkeley, but it doesn’t matter what that letter says now, because either way, you’re going to be a lawyer.

“Oh my god,” you breathe as Joel's arms pull you in for a tight hug.

“Congratulations, baby girl.” His lips press to hair and you start to laugh. “What’s so funny?”

You both part from the hug as you fight to stop tears of pure joy from ruining your makeup. “It’s just…you know, for a second there I actually thought that I wasn’t smart enough. Me? I have a 4.0, I graduated early, I’ve been top of my class for years and I actually thought that I wouldn’t get in.”

Joel's eyes dance, a big smile across his face as he watches you fill a vase. “Open the other one.”

He keeps his eyes on you as he opens the next letter. As he folds open the thick eggshell coloured paper you plunge the flowers into the cold water, his face drops and you prepare yourself for the worst, “You got in. Baby, you - you got in.”

You - Four Years Prior

“So what? You think that getting into your fancy university in Texas means you can just leave Arizona whenever you please? Your mom needs you, you can’t just leave.” Your dad is in his patchwork recliner, a beer in his hand despite it being nine in the morning. The hot June morning heating the small house to an uncomfortable stifle. 

“I’ve contributed as much as I can, dad. Two months from now I’m not going to have any time to myself. I deserve some time doing what I want.”

Your dad snorts, legs slamming the leg rest down on the recliner. “You’re an ungrateful little bitch, aren’t you?”

That should sting, it would to anyone else, but you’ve been called every name possible by your father. You see him now for what he truly is, a loser. He can’t hold a job, hasn’t been able to for years. When you were younger, you thought you were the apple of his eye. He’d show up to every school function, every award ceremony, all the little things. You were eight when you realized he didn’t even speak to you at those functions, just walked around bragging about how he was the reason you’ve achieved whatever you were being celebrated over. It was his time to shine, his award, not yours.

“I’m going,” you say, hoisting your duffle bag of clothing over your shoulder. You’ve always wanted to go back to California. You went once with your mother when you were nine or ten, and the minute you got to the beach and felt the warm sand between your toes everything went quiet. It’s called out to you ever since.

As you spin towards the front door you hear the groan of your dad standing up. Fear spikes in your veins, your heart slamming in your ribs. He’s never hit you, but with the redness of his face as he called you names this morning you wouldn’t put it past him. 

“Like fuck you are!” He bellows as a hard object strikes the back of your head, followed by warm liquid soaking through the back of your t-shirt.

One of your hands cups the back of your head as you bolt towards your recently purchased, and slightly rusted, SUV. “Get back in here right now you little cunt! You stole money from me for that vehicle, didn’t you?”

You can’t help but laugh as you get in the front seat. You don’t bother locking the doors, you know he’s barely out the front door without looking. He’s not strong enough, and definitely too drunk, to overpower you. You throw the vehicle into reverse and yell out the window, “You don’t have any money for me to steal, Doug!”

You hit his first name hard, knowing damn well how much it will enrage him. You drive away without looking back, and you only stop once for gas for the next ten hours. 

The sun is setting as you reach the motel in Newport Beach. You head straight for the beach, kicking off your sandals and letting your feet sink into the cool sand. Your phone vibrates in your pocket, “Mom” across the screen in bold letters.

“Hi,” you say sheepishly, still feeling like a child even though you aren’t.

“Get our ass home, right fucking now. You’re supposed to be contributing to this family and somehow you had enough money to buy a car? And a trip to California? Mark my words, young lady. If you don’t walk back through that door by this time tomorrow, I will come there and get you myself!”

A lump forms in your throat. You’ve spent your whole childhood trying to get them to see you. Contributing? None of your friends had to contribute, they all got to be kids. You’re going to be making a lot of money as a lawyer one day, and they can go fuck themselves if they think they’re getting a single penny of that money.

“I’m afraid I won’t be doing that, mother.”

“You’re in for a rude fucking awakening, little girl. Just because you were the smartest person here, does not mean you’ll be the smartest person anywhere else. The world is going to chew you up and spit you out, and your father and I will not be here to fix you.”

“I don’t see how that’s any different than now. Good bye.”

You hang up before she can respond and look out over the water. The sun is setting in a kaleidoscope of peaches, marigolds and lavenders. You block your parents' numbers before snapping a picture of the sunset and setting it as your background. A sense of calm washes over you as the waves crash along the shore. You walk towards the water and dip your feet in, the water washing away the last eighteen years of your life. You’re free.

You - Present Day

A whispered ‘holy shit’ is all you can muster as realization washes over you. Your dream school - and you got in. You can go to the beach and listen to the ocean, feel the sand under your feet. You can feel as free as you did almost four years ago. You lock eyes with Joel. Can you really leave him? 

“I can’t believe I got in. To two schools. I’m going to be a lawyer.” Excitement floods your body. You can worry about deciding later, even though deep down you already know what you're going to choose. Right now, you can just be happy and proud. He reaches a hand out to you and you step into the living room to take it. He pulls you in, wrapping you in his strong arms. 

“I know I said this already, but I am so god damn proud of you, sweet girl. No one deserves this more than you. I want to celebrate this with you soon, please?”

“Well,” you say with a hint of mischief, pulling back to look at him, “We are going to be at the club.”

His eyes flash with something you’ve never seen before. “Ya - the club.”

“Oh my god. We’re late, Joel!” You push out of his hold. This is his big night, his five year anniversary of owning his club.

“Baby, stop,” he pulls you into his arms again and cups your face. “I don’t care. Just let me kiss you until you need to reapply that lipstick, and then we can go.” His lips crash passionately into yours. “I’m so fucking proud of you, sweet girl,” he gasps between kisses.

Joel wasn’t lying. He really did kiss you until your lips were swollen and you had to touch up not only your lipstick but the bit of highlighter on your nose; he also needed to participate, taking one of your makeup wipes to his nose, chin and lips before opening the door to his Jag for you and speeding off to the club.

Upon entering the club, the two of you were separated almost immediately. Joel was whisked away to the stage where he, Tommy and who you assume is Tess are now. The stage is lit up as he gives a speech and thanks everyone. A glass of champagne is handed to you as you stand along the edge of the bar. Everyone claps and as he tries to make his way back to you is pulled into a handshake from a very wealthy looking older man. You smile into your glass of expensive pink champagne as the woman from the stage approaches you.

“Hi! I’m sorry for having to steal him the moment you two walked in.” She extends a perfectly manicured hand out to you. “I’m Tess.”

You go to introduce yourself and she cuts you off as she continues. “Oh, I know who you are. Joel will probably kill me, but we have all been very interested to meet you.”

“All?” you say, swallowing nervously.

She shrugs. “No one has ever seen him this, hmm, this relaxed before. He’s usually here or across the street barking orders. You don’t become as successful as him without a little stress, but since you came along he seems different. Happy.”

You blush, watching him engrossed in a new conversation, his eyes often meeting yours across the room. “Look,” Tess says, stepping closer and lowering her voice. “I hang around the Millers way too often and I could really use some girl talk. Is that ok?”

“Tess, if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s girl talk.” You smile at her and then turn to the bartender. “Two tequila shots, please!”

She takes a breath, looking at Joel and then back at you. “I’m just going to cut right to the chase. I didn’t think I’d live to see the day where Joel wore a black cowboy hat again.”

You raise an eyebrow at Tess, this could be your chance to get an explanation around his response. You know you weren’t imagining his eyes getting glassy, and he did say it means more to him than he could ever tell you. “I got him that hat.” 

Tess’s jaw drops and panic rises in your chest. “What? Why? What’s wrong with the hat?” 

“Tequila first,” she says as the shots slide across the shiny black marble bar top. A shiver racks through Tess after she swallows, you don’t flinch. “I don’t know if it’s my place…”

“It’s girl talk, he’ll never know.” You state, sucking at the lime. Tess clears her throat and motions to the bartender for another round. The next time she speaks it’s a hushed, sad voice, just barely above a whisper.  

“He, umm - well, he had a hat just like that growing up. Wore it all the time actually. He had it on the night he met Tiffany, and pretty much every important day in his life since then. Their first date, their wedding. Shit, I’m pretty sure there’s a picture of Sarah as a newborn in that hat. He also wore it the last time he held her.” Her voice trails off and heartbreak for her friend lines her features. “He…she loved it so much that he sent it with her.” 

You swallow hard and glance past Tess’s shoulder to Joel across the club. The moments of time between each of your heartbeats are filled by memories of his reaction. Tess continues, “Look, maybe you're like Joel. Maybe you don’t believe in astronomy or signs from the universe, but I don’t think you finding that hat was a coincidence.”

You aren’t like Joel; you do believe in signs. You thought you were going crazy when you found that hat today. It literally called to you from inside the store. It wasn’t on display in the window. No, you heard someone call your name behind you and when you looked over your shoulder the hat was all you could see. Could that voice have been from the wife he lost too early? You catch Joel’s gaze across the room; something about him, even before you knew him, comforted you. As your mind starts running through the depth of what that hat means to him he winks, you think you might be falling for him. 

All of this means something. It has to mean something. Right? 

“Girl talk stays between us?” You ask shyly.

“Absolutely!” Tess exclaims, you like her more and more and can see yourself being very good friends with her, even if she is almost twice your age.

“Tequila first,” you say in the same way she did earlier. 

She clicks her glass against yours and then on the bar top before slamming the shot back. “I hate tequila,” she rasps while sucking the lime.

“I can’t talk to my girlfriends about this. I don’t know if you know how me and Joel met, but one of my best friends is sort of my boss and I would get fired from my job for knowing him.” Tess nods, and orders you both a glass of what you’re sure is very expensive rosé. “Sometimes Joel says things that make me feel like maybe we are more than a sub and a dom, but that’s ridiculous, right? It’s the heat of the moment.”

“Babe, do you know how long Joel has been doing this?” She asks gently.

You shake your head and take a sip of your wine.

“Years…at one point, being a dom was how he made money. He’s a professional.”

Her words feel like a lead weight in the pit of your stomach, bile starts to burn at your throat. The whiplash of thinking he’s falling, and knowing that you are, and now dealing with this is almost too much. Joel has moved onto a conversation with yet another guest. “Right, he’s good. He’s supposed to make me feel wanted. I think I’m just not used to someone being there.”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” Tess’s hand comes to grab yours, squeezing reassuringly. “Professional doms don’t say things in the heat of the moment. They don’t give false hopes. If he’s calling you his or struggling to follow limits, that’s Joel speaking, not his dom alter ego.”

The silence after her words is thick between you. He doesn’t say things in the heat of the moment? You swallow the lead weight that’s made its way from your stomach to your throat, your mind racing through all the things Joel has said to you. My sweet girl. It’s a date. It’s only you. 

“Hey,” Tess says, shaking your hand to bring you back. “This DJ sucks, should we go take over the booth?”

You smile, grateful not only for her words of wisdom but now the way she’s able to stop you from spiraling. “Yes, this is a club AND a friday afterall!”

She smiles at you mischievously as she reaches over the bar for the bottle of rosé and then links arms with you as you both practically skip to the booth. “Owning a club is so fun, I recommend everyone try it,” she proclaims through a laugh.

When you reach the booth she waltzes right up to the DJ, “We need dancing music, it’s Friday, it’s a club, and it’s a fucking party!”

“Sorry, Tess. I can’t do that. Joel wanted background music only.” The DJ, who barely looks old enough to be in a club says, his eyes wandering to the low cut of your dress. A few months ago you probably would have been endeared by that look, but you have a real man now. A real man who loves you, says the sparkling box of feelings. 

Tess snorts and then tuts at the poor guy. “Joel won’t appreciate you ogling what belongs to him like that. So play Best Friend by Saweetie or I’ll be sure to let him know.”

His eyes snap back to his booth set up, one hand held up in defeat, the other pushing a few buttons and then turning the volume dial up. You and Tess laugh, taking sips straight from the bottle as you move to the dance floor. This is what you need, a friend to help you dissect what’s been happening. A friend who understands the dom and sub relationship, but more importantly, understands Joel. Does him having feelings change how you feel about university? You’ve always seen yourself going to Berkeley, that’s been the dream, but now? 

Maybe you should just end this now before your feelings grow too far out of control. The box of feelings laughs. You have no idea how deep you are in this, do you?

Joel

I’m gonna kill that little shit. Frustration rolls through his body as the music grows louder and as he turns to shoot daggers at the DJ he sees you and Tess. Your beautiful face is lit up in a large smile as you sip directly from a $400 bottle of rosé. His anger dissipates as you move your body with a sexy sway, lost in the music. 

Joel moves towards the bar, never taking his eyes off of you. Your arms stretch over your head as you shake your ass, the slit of your dress exposing your soft thigh. His palm tingles at the thought of how good you feel against him. The smooth warmth of your leg against the rough calluses of his fingers. 

I love you. 

Joel orders a whiskey and then walks towards the edge of the dance floor, his free hand tucked into the pocket of his pants as he watches you. As the song changes your eyes find him and you crook a finger at him, when he shakes his head you stick your bottom lip out and give him big doe eyes. He shakes his head again as Tess hands you the half drank bottle of wine. The pink tone of the wine casts a romantic glow across your exposed chest as you take a small sip. His cock stirs to life in his pants, remembering how those lips felt wrapped around him. He shakes his head at you again and takes a long pull from his drink. You stick your tongue out at him and spin away from him, wiggling your hips while glancing over your shoulder. 

I fucking love you.

You spin back towards him and crook your finger at him again, mouthing ‘please?’. He stays rooted to the spot. Joel doesn’t dance, especially not to this kind of music. His heart flutters as you start to walk over to him, everything moves in slow motion, the sexy way your dress clings to your hips with each movement, the flash of your thigh, the slight bounce of your breasts with each step. It feels like hours have passed by the time you stop in front of him. 

“Please come dance with me.” You say, fluttering your lashes slightly.

He grabs the expensive bottle of wine from you and places it on the tall table beside him. “This is very expensive wine.”

“That was Tess’s doing,” you smile.

“I’m sure it was, because you’re my good girl, aren’t you?” His hand strokes your cheek and he clocks the goosebumps that rise on your skin.

“Please come dance, Mister Miller?”

“I don’t dance, sweet girl.”

You pout again and he wants to suck that perfect bottom lip between his teeth so badly. “What if you just stand there and I dance around you?”

One day he’s going to have to learn how to say no to you, but today won’t be that day. He takes the last sip from his glass and puts it beside the wine. You bounce excitedly on the balls of your feet as he holds a hand out to you. You lead the way, the dance floor now full of people, heading back towards Tess. Joel’s hands come to your hips as you grind against him for the last few bars of the song. 

A slow twang of guitar starts off the next song. Joel spins you to face him. “This I can dance to.” He whispers, pulling you in close, one hand low on your back, the other holding yours to his heart. 

You smile up at him, “Full of surprises, aren’t you, sweet cheeks?”

At this angle the brim of his hat blocks out everything except for you; not that he needs something to block out the rest of the world when he’s around you. I love you.

“For the right woman I can be, freckles.” He says warmly as you melt into his body.

The two of you continue to dance in a comfortable silence. He watches your lips as your tongue glides across them and just as he’s about to lean in and taste you you speak. “I don’t think I said this yet tonight, but congratulations. This is a huge accomplishment and I’m so proud of you and grateful that you brought me into this space. I hope it’s not too bold, but this has done exactly as I hoped. I feel - freer almost, if that makes sense.”

“Good,” his lips press to your forehead. “And thank you.”

Your neck cranes forward, towards the tangled mess of your hands against his chest. Your lips pressing to the knuckle of his thumb. The gesture shoots straight to his heart.  

“I’ve been feeling a bit bad though. You’ve had to go to two events for me this week.” You go to protest but he cuts you off. “What would you be doing tonight if it wasn’t for this?”

You hum in thought. “Any bar where there’s an open mic night or a local band.”

“That so? Do you participate in the open mic?” 

“No, absolutely not, but I enjoy music and watching people do things they’re passionate about.”

He raises an eyebrow at you. “Let’s go then.”

“What?”

“Let’s go. I’ve said thank you to all the VIP’s. Let's go do your thing.”

You

“Can we do that?” You ask, trying not to let the smile that’s pulling at your cheeks win.

Joel laughs quietly. “It’s my party, I can do what I want. They can all stay, but the longer I stay here the more I’m going to be pulled away. And you’re the only person at this party that I want to talk to.”

That’s Joel speaking, not his dom alter ego.

The boulder is growing in your throat again as you croak, “We’re dressed awfully fancy for a local bar.” 

Joel smiles down at you, his eyes soft. You start memorizing every detail of his face. Everything surrounding the two of you went fuzzy the second he pulled you into his arms. This man, dressed in all black, blurs the edges of everything around you, sucking you in and making you feel like the only person he sees. The slow country song that you didn’t even hear starts to come to end. “I don’t care. Any more concerns?”

He doesn’t care, he’ll never care, he just wants to be with you. The box of feelings that's grown exponentially over this evening inches its way out of the shadows, and you can’t deny it anymore. 

You’re falling in love with Joel Miller. 

“Let’s go,” you say, excitement replacing the lump in your throat.

Joel wastes no time, peeling your bodies apart and pulling you towards the exit. He doesn’t look back as Tommy calls his name, only stopping at the front desk to grab your purse. You feel giddy, almost as if the two of you are doing something wrong. He opens the car door for you and then hops into the driver's seat. You pull out your phone, ignoring him as he comments on your cracked screen being a hazard, and check for open mic nights, finding one in a small bar just a few streets over. 

The bar is small, about ten tables crammed together and then a few stools along the bartop. The stage is only big enough for one person, a few guitars on stands, a stool, and the mic stand. The lighting is low, different neon signs above the bar doing the majority of the work. You’re way overdressed and the looks you get from the packed bar further prove it. 

Joel pulls you through the crowd towards the bar. You were feeling slightly tipsy dancing with Tess, but there is something so sobering about being pulled into Joel's arms. And now that you’ve realized you’re falling in love with him, his next question is very welcome.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“Yes, please.” You smile sweetly, plastering your front to Joel’s side as he squeezes into the bar. “I’ll just have whatever you’re having.”

“Two old fashioneds,” he says deeply to the bartender. You stifle a giggle, “What?”

“You just give me so much ammunition sometimes.”

He swats at your ass and then squeezes, not caring who may or may not see. It’s exhilarating getting to just be yourselves away from the club and you have a feeling you’ll quickly become addicted to this. “Mighty thin ice, baby.” 

The raspy voiced woman with crazy curly hair finishes her set as Joel pays for the drinks. It appears that most of the crowd was here to see her, a few tables free up and the place doesn’t feel so crowded. The MC for the night gets back onto the stage. 

“Alright, if anyone else wants to show us what they’ve got tonight I’ll be by the bar.” There’s a few cheers and some clapping as the bar empties out drastically, only about twenty people are left. Joel pulls out a chair for you and then sits beside you.  

“Thank you for the drink,” you say, bringing the liquid to your lips and taking a small sip. The warmth of it heats all the way down to your belly, a familiar feeling when you’re around Joel.

“Of course,” he nods, sipping his. “So? Do you come here often?”

You laugh, leaning forward on your arms, noticing the way Joel’s eyes bounce from your face to your breasts; now pushed together for him. “What a line! But no, I have never been here. I kinda like it though.”

The MC’s voice fills the room, welcoming a brave soul to the stage. A tall man in cowboy boots and a shiny buckle joins the stage, carefully picking a guitar from the rack before he begins singing. You can tell by the warmth along the side of your face that Joel is watching you and not the man on the stage. 

“He’s pretty good,” you say, looking back towards Joel. It’s almost unfair how he can still look so sexy in the neon glow of the lights above the bar. 

“Mediocre,” he says with a scoff and sips his drink.

You glance around, “Ok, well you listen to this mediocre man, I’m going to find the washroom.”

You feel Joel’s eyes on your back as you walk away. The gender neutral bathroom is surprisingly clean and you giggle to yourself at the interaction you had once Joel was no longer looking at you. You try to act natural as you head back to the table, sitting down and smiling at Joel.

His eyebrow arches, “What did you do?” 

God you hate how well he knows you. There’s no hiding anything from this man. Regardless, you stifle the fit of giggles that are right on the tip of your tongue, “Nothing! I had to pee. Is that not allowed?”

You raise your glass to your lips, trying to hide the smile as the MC heads back up to the stage. “You did something bad, I can tell.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have another performer tonight. Please welcome to the stage Joel Sweet Cheeks Miller.”

Joel shoots a teasing glare at you as you start hollering, “Woo! Sweet cheeks!!” You clap your hands loudly. He lets out a sigh, pushing himself up and then grabbing his drink before heading to the stage. 

He steps up, running his fingers over the guitars before choosing a black acoustic. He puts his Old Fashioned on the stool and loops the guitar over his head. Your body reacts in a way you didn’t think it would. Fire erupts on your belly, you take a sip of your drink to try to put it out but the heat of the liquor only makes it worse. He adjusts the knobs on the guitar after hitting the strings a few times and then looks up at you and crooks two fingers, calling you to him. You obey, practically floating to the man you’re falling in love with. 

Joel bends at the hip, taking his cowboy hat off and placing it on your head. His voice is a gravel filled whisper as he says, “I’m going to spank that pretty little ass of yours in that washroom you were looking for after this.”

“Yes, Mister Miller.” You rasp.

He stands back up, and clears his throat before starting. “This is, well, this is the largest audience I’ve ever played in front of so, go easy on me.”

His hand pushes back the few curls that have fallen onto this forehead before he strums at the guitar. 

If I ever were to lose you I’d surely lose myself

His voice is like stepping into a hot bath, full of warmth and comfort.

Everything I’ve found here I’ve not found by myself

He doesn’t break eye contact with you, only glancing away occasionally when he moves his fingers along the cords. 

Try and sometimes you’ll succeed To make this man of me All my stole missing parts I’ve no need for anymore

You stare up at him, lips slightly parted, as everything falls into place. 

And I believe And I believe ‘cause I can see Our future days Days of you and me

You could go to Berkeley and do great, probably middle of the pack, but you’d reach your goals. You’d become a lawyer and leave school with a handful of job offers. Or…you could stay. You could stay and be the top of your class here. You could stay and continue being with Joel. 

Back when I was feeling broken I focused on a prayer You came deep as any ocean Did something out there hear?

The box of feelings starts to vibrate, making it almost impossible to breathe.

All the complexities and games  No one wins, but somehow they still played All the missing crooked hearts They may die, but in us they live on

You’re staying. You’re going to the University of Texas at Austin School of Law.

And I believe And I believe ‘cause I can see  Our future days  Days of you and me

And just like that, the box of feelings explodes like one of those worms in a can of fake peanuts.

When hurricanes and cyclones raged When winds turned dirt to dust When floods they came, the tides they raise Even closer, became us

This wasn’t part of your plan, but you can’t let this go.

And all the promises at sundown I meant them like the rest

You hear his voice, ‘It’s only you, sweet girl’ and ‘your consent is the most important thing to me.’

All the demons used to come ‘round I’m grateful, now they’ve left.

‘Does it look like I own things that aren’t perfect’, ‘tell me, tell me you’re perfect’.

So persistent in my ways Hey, angel, I’m am here to stay

‘I’m here for you’.

No resistance, no alarms Please, this is just too good to be gone

You’re not falling in love. No, you’re already so madly, deeply, insanely in love with this man that it hurts and feels amazing all at the same time.

And I believe And I believe ‘cause I can see Our future days Days of you and me

You suck in a breath for what feels like the first time since he started singing, your chest practically heaving at the release of emotion you’re experiencing. 

You and me It’s just, you and me

You’re not sure if people are clapping, you can’t hear anything over your own voice in your head screaming out ‘I love you’ over and over again. Joel hops off the stage, his eye flashing onyx as he growls, “punishment time, my sweet girl.”

Joel

The way your eyes sparkled as he sang and the way you’re following him now, your warm fingers laced in his as he pulled you gently to the bathroom, almost have him convinced that you feel the same way he does.

He locks the door, then jiggles the handle to make sure it’s secure. He’s shared subs with other men and women, he’s used the rooms for people to watch at the club; fuck, one time he even made one sub kneel completely naked at his feet while he sat at the bar of the club. But someone seeing you, something that is all his, ignites a protectiveness that he’s only ever felt for two other women. 

You giggle mischievously as he steps close, plucking his hat off your head and placing it back on his. “What did I say I was going to do to you, baby?” 

He watches your bottom lip disappear between your teeth before you say, “You were going to spank me.” 

He spins you roughly by your hips, pulling your back flush to his chest before walking you over the pedestal style sink. He watches in the mirror at the tell tale signs of your building arousal. Your cheeks flush, the pink creeping down your neck and exposed chest. He sees the way your eyes glass over, cock drunk before even getting it. Joel loves how easy you are to turn on, loves even more that it’s just for him.

No, I just love her.

He stops, the soft light above the mirror lighting the two of you up in yellow glow. The small bathroom is clean, but dark. White and black checkered floor with white walls; hopefully thick walls, but he has ways to keep you quiet while he punishes you. 

His lips come to the exposed side of your neck, hovering just above where he can see your pulse quickening. He hears the hitch of your breath as he inhales your lavender scent. He slips into full dominant mode, keeping his voice a deep growling whisper, “Hands on the edges of the sink, sweet girl.”

You obey him without hesitation, leaning forward and wrapping your hands around the shiny white sink. His eyes lock on yours through the mirror as he fists the soft silk of your skirt. His palms tingle at the thought of getting to feel you soon and his cock jumps at the thought of your heart-shaped ass being pink with his handprints. 

As the skirt crawls to be just above your knees he says, “How many should you get for that little stunt?”

He watches the goosebumps that spread across your skin. “Five?” Your voice is sweet and innocent with the ask.

The skirt starts to hike up higher, the long slit could give him easy access, but he’s playing a role right now, and he knows that the anticipation makes it better so much better for his sub. “Not much of a lesson in five. How about ten.”

It’s not a question and he knows you know it. He’d be lying though if he said he didn’t want to see if you’d fight him just a little bit. Brat taming is not his thing; granted neither is spanking a sub he’s fallen in love with in a bathroom of a dingy bar while wearing a six thousand dollar suit. 

A shiver runs through your body as he exposes your ass. The lacy black thong sends his thoughts into overdrive. God damn, what I wouldn’t give to fuck this woman, just once. 

“Do I have your consent to spank you ten times?”

You nod, “Yes, Mister Miller.”

He takes one of your wrists in his hand and brings it back to hold your skirt up and then repositions himself to be beside you instead of behind you. He takes you in, bent over with your ass exposed, pupils blown out. Your chest rises and falls with shallow, shaky breaths. He’s going to have to keep you quiet.

A hand clamps around your lips and your eyes widen. “If you want me to stop, drop the skirt. Got it?”

You nod into his palm as the first slap fills the room. Your skin is soft and warm under his touch as he makes contact again. By the third strike, his hand around your mouth muffles a squeal. The fourth spank lands on your other cheek and a quiet husky moan rumbles against your lips and his palm.

“You’re supposed to be my sweet girl,” he taunts as another loud slap fills the room. He’s been watching you in the mirror the entire time, enjoying the way you try to keep eye contact; but now, at the halfway mark of your spanking, your eyes are hooded with need. He looks down your ass, grinding his hips into your side at the sight of his bright red handprints tattooed on your cheeks. “Fuck, you look so good all marked up.”

He spanks you again watching the jiggle of your ass and how it ripples down your leg. Your back arches as you whimper quietly. “Atta girl,” he says proudly, smiling to himself. “Three more.”

Joel administers the last three spankings quickly, two on one cheek and one on the other. The sound of his palm on your flesh goes straight to his cock each time, he’s practically rutting into your hip bone to relieve some of the ache. He’s given a lot of spankings in his time as a dom and his body has never reacted this way. I’m so goddamn in love with her, I should keep spanking her for making me feel like that, but if I don’t taste her right now I’m going to go insane. 

His hand grabs your skirt while his other drops from your face. Your breaths come in fast, like you just ran a marathon. He guides you to stand and then spins you around, a hiss leaves your lips, “It’s cold,” you whisper, making eye contact with him. 

He takes his hat off and places it on your head before kneeling down in front of you.

You

The cool porcelain soothes the delicious burn along your ass, but the burn quickly spreads through your body as the man you’ve realized you’re in love with kneels in front of you. His voice has an edge of desperation as he says, “I need to taste you, please baby.”

What is he doing to me? He has to know what he’s doing to you, right? Did he mean the lyrics of that song or is it just the only song he knows? However, at this moment, you’re just as desperate for him. 

“Yes,” you nod frantically as you speak, “Mister Miller. Please.’

His mouth connects with your lace covered cunt. Licking over the thin fabric, teasing you with light but mind numbing pressure. Joel Miller always looks good, tall and broad, tanned skin that crinkles slightly around his eyes when he smiles, but when he’s on his knees in front of you it ignites something low in your belly. His curly dark hair is soft to the touch and you bring your hand to his scalp now. He groans at the feeling of your hands on him and continues to lick at your clit through your panties. 

The black cowboy hat falls over your eyes, your other hand raises to hold it out of the way. Even with the decision to stay here for law school, you don’t want to miss a second of the salacious acts playing out right in front of you. 

“Oh god, Mister Miller,” you whisper, trying to stay as quiet as possible. 

He moves to kiss at your thigh, hooking a finger around the gusset of your soaked lace. “This fucking garter, sweet girl. Been drivin’ me crazy all night,” he growls between kisses.

He pulls your panties to the side and your nipples harden under your dress as the cool air hits your throbbing pussy. “Fuck,” he practically whimpers. “You smell so good. Taste so good, too.”

His mouth latches around your clit, sucking it between his lips and everything goes fuzzy as the burn in your lower belly starts to spread. “Ohgodohgood, f-fuck.”

The tip of his tongue flicks against your swollen aching clit with each suck and you start to panic over how you’re going to keep quiet while you come. One of his fingers that pulls your thong out of the way teases at your entrance, gathering your arousal, before he pushes it inside of you to the first knuckle. He looks up at you, eyes flushed onyx as he swallows down everything you give him. 

“Mister Miller,” you hum as he pushes his forefinger the rest of the way in. When he curls it forward you release the grip on his salt and pepper curls and clamp your hand around your mouth.

He pulls away, a dimple carving out his cheek as he smirks. “Feels that good?” He flicks gently at your clit and you moan in agreement into your hand. “Good fuckin’ girl.”

Joel sucks your clit back into his mouth, pumping his thick finger against the spongy spot that makes you melt and the heat bursts into tingling pleasure as your orgasm washes over you. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you fight to keep quiet, grinding your hips unabashedly against Joel’s face. He’s relentless with his ministrations and you bite at your palm as another wave rolls through you. 

The spasms of your pussy around his finger slow and you’re finally composed enough to drop your hand, grabbing his shoulder as your knees threaten to give out. Joel slips his finger out from you, placing light, lingering kisses on your mound before standing. His hands find your hips, holding you steady. 

“Kiss me,” you slur, feeling drunk off the pleasure.

Your arms loop around his neck as he kisses you. His lips taste like you and you lick at the heady sweetness. You slant your head, kissing him deeper. His body goes soft, relaxing into the kiss. You could do this with him forever, and for once it’s not the box of feelings saying that. The contents of that box have coated your entire brain with the love it housed for the man you’re not even supposed to know exists. The two of you break apart, both panting for air. You break the silence first.

“Take me to the club.”

“We can’t go back there. I’ll just get sucked back into the crowd.” His nose runs up and down yours, dark chocolate brown eyes never leaving yours. 

“I need more, Mister Miller. Please, take me.”

“Shit,” he huffs. “Come with me.”

Joel

This is so incredibly stupid, he thinks as he pulls into his neighborhood. The moment the two of you got back into his car you leaned over onto his shoulder and closed your eyes. He should take you to your apartment. You must be exhausted from all the studying and working you’ve been doing. Plus, he kept you out late for two nights. He pulls up onto his driveway, and the slight bump from the curb causes you to stir. He parks in the driveway and watches as you blink and register where you are. 

“I can take you home if you want.”

“No, I want to be with you.” Your eyes widen and you start to do that thing where you ramble, only to dig yourself deeper.

Joel chuckles and then leans forward, pressing your lips to your forehead to stop you. “I knew what you meant, baby girl.”

He gets out of the car and then comes around to open your door. When you left the bar tonight you tried to open your door, again, and he scolded you gently. He smiles to himself that you’ve listened finally, that or you’re just too tired and he should really be taking you home. But when he helps you out of the car and meets your gaze again you look anything but tired. Need and arousal flood his system as he takes you in, lips slightly parted and eyes dancing around his face. Your words from the bathroom ring in his ears. I need more, Mister Miller.

He snaps, lips slamming against yours, your hands immediately finding the curls at the nape of his neck; the only hair you can reach because of the cowboy hat still proudly perched on top of his head. He lifts you, moaning at the feeling of your toned thighs wrapping around his waist. He moves on instinct, closing the car door and walking into the house while the two of you fervently kiss in a mix of tongue and teeth. You nip at his bottom lip as he walks into the marble foyer. He closes the garage entry door and presses you against it, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth, His cock is painfully hard behind his pants.

“I need you,” you whine after your lip is free from his mouth.

“What do you need?”

You kiss at his neck, hands moving to loosen his tie. “I need you to fuck me, please, Mister Miller.”

I love you. 

He keeps you pinned to the door, his one hand grabbing yours and pinning them above your head. How many times is he going to have you in the position, fighting against what you’re begging for? Hopefully, it never stops.

“My sweet girl, you know I can’t do that.” It physically hurts him to turn you down.

You pout at him before speaking, “Then just be naked with me, I need to feel your skin on mine. Please?”

He kisses you again and starts to move the two of you towards the stairs. Between kisses, he says, “What happened to that shy girl who couldn’t even tell me she wanted me to dominate her?” 

You laugh against his lips, “She’s been corrupted.”

“I’m a bad man,” he hums with a laugh and walks up the stairs with you plastered to his chest; one hand around the globes of your ass, the other tucking your head into his neck so he can see where he’s stepping. The moment you reach the top of the stairs he pulls your face back to his to kiss you again.

“This is where it happened,” you say, as he passes the office. 

“Where what happened?” He says, pulling back to look at you, his eyebrows draw in in confusion and the black Stetson he forgot he was wearing falls forward slightly. You take the hat off his head, looking at him all wide-eyed and amused. 

“The corruption,” you say with a wink. Joel snorts in response and then his lips are back on yours. He has missed having this mix of passion and humour with someone.

When he passes over the threshold of his bedroom he places you on your feet. He told himself he wouldn’t ever have you here. No, not told, promised, because he knew what having here would mean. But you made him fall in love with you anyway. The air in the bedroom feels thicker, and his breathing quickens as he looks at you. The only light that trickles in is from the hallway. He takes in your sparkling eyes, your lips, puffy from his kisses and light nips; the perfect curls of your hair are slightly dishevelled and truthfully - he has never found you more beautiful. 

I love you. 

You

Butterflies assault your stomach as you stare at Joel. He takes the hat from you and tosses it gently on the foot of the bed behind you. The room is deafeningly silent, only the sounds of both of your quickened breathing and thundering heartbeats fill the void. You stand frozen, the heels of your strappy black sandals sinking into the plush carpet of his bedroom. You remember when you carried his sheets to the washing machine just a few weeks ago, being surrounded by the delicious scents of ash and leather. You had no idea who Joel was then, the man in this house was just a fantasy in your mind. You wait for him to make the first move. Finally, his thick fingers find the zipper along your side. 

“Are you sure about this?” He says, his voice is hoarse, and you can tell he’s nervous. You wish knowing that would calm you, but truthfully it just makes your heart burst even more. This morning, the thought of anyone, but especially Joel, having feelings for you was ridiculous, but now you aren’t so sure it’s that absurd after all.

“Yes, Mister Miller. I just - I need…” he watches you patiently. Playing with the small metal zipper pull. 

“Don’t be shy, sweet girl. Just tell me what you need.” 

“I need to feel your skin against mine. Please.” 

He pulls at the zipper as his lips meet your neck. “I love when you ask so politely. My good girl, aren’t you?” 

“Mm-hmm,” you hum, fighting the sway of your legs to stay upright. 

If he’s calling you yours, that’s Joel speaking. Not his dom alter ego. 

Joel’s fingers come to the thin straps along your shoulders. The warmth of his hands against your skin causes you to shiver. He drags the straps down your arms and then frowns at the tape holding the dress to your chest. He tugs gently and you gasp at the pull of the tape. Before you can protest, the sting is soothed by his lips, kissing the sore, pink skin. He does the same thing after tugging the other side and the silky black dress pools at your feet. 

You watch the muscles of Joel’s throat flex as he swallows, eyes trailing down your body. “Turn around.”

You spin on the balls of your feet, careful to not catch your heels on the carpet. “So you need to feel me, is that right, sweet girl?” 

You nod your head. “Yes, Mister Miller.” 

One of his hands comes to gently rest on your shoulder and instinctively lean into his touch. His fingers whirl around as he traces down your shoulder blade and then back up to your neck. “I can’t believe how beautiful you looked tonight. I kept getting pulled away from you every time I tried to get back to you. It was killing me to be away from you.” 

You let your eyes close as his fingers run down your spinal column. You feel his heat leave your back and then his lips sponge kisses along the globes of your ass, his hands holding your hips possessively.

“You were such a good girl tonight. Outside of the little singing stunt,” he says between kisses. Every spot that took the punishment of his palm is given attention. “But you paid for that, didn’t you sweet girl?” 

You giggle quietly before saying. “Yes, Mister Miller. Thank you, but I can’t promise I won’t do it again.” 

“Good,” he laughs, standing up behind you. You hear the unmistakable sound of his silk tie being pulled off. “Because I don’t want you to ever stop teasing me.” 

He tosses the tie towards his dresser. Before you know it, he’s spun you around and lifted you into his arms again. Your body knows just what to do, your legs clamping around his waist on their own. He captures the squeak that leaves your lips with his mouth. Nothing makes you melt faster than the feel of Joel’s lips on yours. They’re soft but firm, his tongue warm against yours as he takes what he wants from you and there’s no way you’re not going to let him. 

He sits you on the dresser and plants his hands on each side of you as your hands move to work the buttons on his shirt. His lips never leave yours. 

“I need you,” you whine as you get the first few buttons undone. The heat of his chest skimming against your fingertips has a fresh wave of arousal coat your already soaked pussy. 

Joel moans needily at your confession as he pulls back slightly. He rips at his shirt, buttons burst before he tears it off and stands shirtless in front of you. Your eyes trail down his strong broad chest, stopping on the prominent bulge behind his pants. Your hands fly to his belt. He watches you with rapt fascination as you work the buckle and then the button of his pants. 

As you move to the zipper, his fingers go to the lace of your panties. He growls as he splits the fabric. 

“Joel!” You gasp. “Those were thirty dollars!” 

He grabs your leg, placing the ball of your foot on his chest,unbuckling your shoe. “I just ruined an $800 dress shirt. I’ll buy you more.” 

The shoe hits the floor and he grabs your other foot, his eyes locking to yours as he commands, “And it’s Mister Miller. I’ve been lenient with you. Another mistake and you will be punished - severely.” 

For such harsh words, he’s being so careful with the small golden buckle on your shoe. “Yes, Mister Miller,” you say sweetly, batting your lashes innocently. 

“Feet up on the dresser. Spread your legs for me, sweet girl.” 

You lean back slightly, hands being used as an anchor behind you, placing your heels on the edge of the dresser. Cool air hits your drenched cunt and you fight yet another shiver. You’re spread wide for Joel, every single thing on display for him. He looks at you like you hung the moon and your heart flips behind your ribs. You suddenly feel like you did the first time the two of you spoke in his kitchen, his gaze is too much, too intense, and it becomes nearly impossible for you to not yell out that you love him, so you look away, your eyes falling to his strong chest.

“Eyes up here,” he murmurs as he takes the smallest step back. 

Your mouth goes dry as you look back up at him. In your peripheral you can see his hands going to his belt, the sound of the buckle jingling tempts you to look down. “Atta girl, stay right here with me.”

You stay in his warm coffee brown pools, flecks of gold and honey appearing as the soft light of his bedroom hits him. I love you.

He bends slightly, his pants and boxers falling to the ground. You try to swallow once, twice, never leaving his gaze as the rest of his clothing comes off. You swear that time stops, the two of you are suspended in a moment that’s all yours. He steps forward and you can feel the heat of his skin against your entire body, you melt into his warmth.

“You want to look, don’t you?” he taunts.

“Yes, Mister Miller,” you hum.

 The soft tip of his cock gently nudges at your clit and you gasp. “Look down, baby.”

You peel your eyes away from his, looking down to see where his body caresses against yours. The tip of his impossibly hard cock, precum glistening as it leaks for you, pressing lightly to your soft and swollen clit. His piercing lays flat against his pelvis and you remember what he said about there being benefits to it. You try to memorize the sight in front of you. As filthy and debauched as this is, it’s also passionate and beautiful; it's the epitome of Mister Miller and your time with him. 

“Fuck, sweet girl. Your pussy is so pretty…and soft.” You watch as he wraps his hand around the thick base of his cock and rocks his hips. His cock slides easily along the warm folds of your drenched cunt, you swear you can feel the ridge of the underside of the tip as he says,  “Who has you this turned on? Huh, sweet girl?”

“You,” you whimper as your legs start to tremble.

“God damn,” his voice now matching yours, “How’d I get so lucky.”

This time you know he’s not asking you a question, yet you hum in agreement as his cock slides back over your clit, the swollen nub relishing in the friction and the feel of him against you. You hope he’s going to keep going, you want to feel him inside of you more than you need oxygen. Instead, his other hand slips between the two of you, his strong digits teasing at your entrance. He slides along your clit again as one of his fingers pushes inside of you. 

“Is this ok?” He whispers.

“Yesyes - fuuuuck, Mister Miller.” A bead of pre cum lands on your mound at the sound of pleasure passing your lips. 

“Such a good girl for me. Already learning how to take me so well.” His finger slips out as a second joins it. “She’s begging for it, tryin’ to suck me in. So tight, my gorgeous sweet girl.”

Your foreheads meet and it all becomes too much again. You close your eyes as his fingers finally fill you. “Don’t stop,” you whine desperately.

His hips pick up their pace, pressing harder along your most sensitive spots. You get that floating feeling again. He’s so close to exactly how you need him, how you want him. The voice from your now-exploded box of feelings adds, “For the rest of your life”. 

You keep your eyes closed, sparks of pleasure occasionally flickering behind them. You’re getting closer to your high with every press of his body against yours. You know if you opened your eyes you’d be able to fall over the edge, but you aren’t ready to be done imagining how it would look if his cock was doing what his fingers were right now. 

“I can feel you’re getting close, baby. Clenchin’ my fingers so hard.” His voice is full of admiration, not a tone you’re used to hearing in moments like this. You used to think that you had a first love, and while none of your exes ever mistreated you, they also didn’t look at you or speak to you the way Joel Miller does. 

His pace increases again as he curls his fingers forward, your body jolts up with the newly applied pressure behind your clit. You grip his shoulders to ground yourself, the inside of your thighs start to ache, but you’re not going to let your feet fall from the dresser. Truthfully, the burning ache only seems to intensify the pleasure at the apex of your thighs.

“Open your eyes, watch how good your pussy looks against me.”

“I ca-can’t. ‘M so close. I don’t - oh fuck - don’t wanna be done.” 

“Just because you come, it doesn’t mean we are done, sweet girl. I’m not ready to be done. I want you to come as many times as you need to.” He presses his cock down against your clit harder as he speaks.

Before you can even take your next breath your orgasm washes over you. It hits hard and for a second you think your throat is constricted, but just as the wall of your pussy relaxes and begins to flutter, a euphoric scream frees itself from your airway. You start to pant, your body falling back to rest on the wall behind you. Joel falls forward with you, and just when you think you’re about to come down from your high, the pressure at this angle sends the strongest wave of your orgasm through you and you begin to gush around his fingers. 

“That’s my good fuckin’ girl. Soak me.” Pride swells in his eyes as you chant his dominant name like a prayer. Your breathing starts to even and he slows his fingers and hips, ensuring not to send you into any overstimulation. I’m not ready to be done yet. He slowly removes his fingers, then wraps his arm around you to pull you up. Your feet fall from the dresser and the relief your muscles feel causes you to let out a pleasurable sigh.

Joel

He needs more, so much more, but waits for you - taking a few slow breaths in time with yours. When he sees you coming back down to earth he slides the tip of his cock up and down. At this angle, there’s no risk of accidentally slipping so he runs himself along every part he can reach. 

“Kiss me,” you mumble, bringing your face towards his. He captures your lips in a sweet kiss, a kiss he’s sure you can tell isn’t the way a dom kisses his sub. He realizes at that moment that he’s never kissed you that way. No, he’s always kissed you with everything he had, giving himself to you piece by piece. 

More. His inner voice growls. I’ll never come back up for air now.

Joel whispers your name between kisses and you both pull back just enough to see each other's faces. “When we got here, you said you wanted me to fuck you. Do you still want that?”

He watches your eyes dance around him. Confusion, fear, excitement and arousal line yours before you pull back from him. He scolds himself for saying it. Of course you’re going to panic, this is supposed to be a safe space. He set a complete ban on sex before he even met with you the first time. It’s right there, in his dom profile; because that’s what he is, he’s your dom. You can come here and beg for it, because you know it’s a safe place where it won’t happen. 

He prepares himself for you to slap him or yell at him. Instead, you say, “Mister Miller, I don’t want you to do anything that you don’t want to. This was a hard limit for you, and where I very much want to, I don’t want you to break any promise to yourself.”

He let his eyelids fall shut, for the first time, he doesn’t want to be Mister Miller. He wants to be Joel. 

I love you.

Goosebumps break out along his skin as you drag your hands up to his neck, fingers scraping along the back of his scalp. “Talk to me.”

“Just call me Joel,” he says through the boulder that’s lodged in his throat. 

He feels your warm lips meet his cheek, kissing him softly before you clear your throat quietly and then whisper into his ear. “Please fuck me, Joel. Fuck me or I might die or go insane.”

“Again,” he growls.

“Fuck me, Joel.” You say, louder and with more conviction than the last time.

He scoops you off the dresser, your soft naked thighs tightening around his waist and he steals your squeal with his lips, kissing you hard with hurried passion. He’ll worry tomorrow about what getting you to call him Joel means, all he knows at this moment is that he needs to hear that you need him just as much as he needs you. 

  He lays you on the bed, pressing down into your warmth. He can feel how wet you are as you grind up into him. His lips grow hungrier, kissing every bit of your face and neck he can reach, relishing in the feel of your hands running up and down his biceps, your short nails scraping his skin occasionally. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He asks before fusing his lips to your neck.

Your feet fall to the bed and you arch into him. “Yes, Joel.” 

He raises to his knees, unclipping the chains around your body and then working with you to slip your ruined panties off. He reaches over to the bedside table to get a condom, using his teeth to peel the foil open and sliding it on. You’re always completely at his mercy, but this time he’s wholly at yours. One of his hands grips your hip, the other wraps around his cock as he takes in all your soft smooth skin, and memorizes the constellations that your freckles make along your body. Your breasts heave with each shallow inhale and shake beautifully with each exhale. Finally, his gaze meets yours, your eyes filled with every emotion he’s feeling. 

“There’s no safeword anymore, my sweet girl. If you tell me to stop, I will.”

You nod as he lines himself up, the warmth of your tight entrance calling to him. Joel pushes gently, your hips rising to encourage him. His balls tighten at the feeling of you wrapped tightly around the tip. 

“So tight, sweet girl.” He falls forward, both forearms beside your head to keep his weight off of you. 

The two of you rock in tandem, working more of him into you. “Oh god, Joel. More,” you moan.

There was a time when he told you to only call him Joel, it was the only name you could use that would keep this side of him from taking over. But now, hearing your voice say his name in the needy little vibrato, it’s having the same effect as when you call him Mister Miller. He’s sure you know exactly how he feels, and he’s now certain that you feel the same way. 

Your hips grind into his and pleasure spikes through his entire body. He’s fully seated inside of you now, your tight pussy squeezing him sweetly. He buries his face into your neck, lavender hypnotizing him. Everything he can see, hear, smell and feel is you. His sweet girl. 

“More, please, more.” You whine, circling your hips. 

His jaw flexes as he fights his body’s instinct to come. He pushes down with his hips to still you. “I need a minute, sweet girl. Shit - you feel too good.”

Your soft giggle at his confession causes your pussy to flex tighter around him. A shiver runs up his spine, “Baby, please don’t. Just stay still, please.”

He pulls himself away from your neck, his hips flexing forward. He watches your eyes widen as his piercing presses right where it’s meant to. You gasp and clench his hips with your thighs. He smirks, now flooded with desire and determination to fuck you until neither of you can walk. 

“Ready?” He says, his voice deep.

“I think - Joel, fuck - I might…” 

His animalistic side kicks in, he pulls out to the tip and then slams back in, swivelling his hips so his piercing stimulates your clit, which he’s sure still must be sensitive from earlier, before pulling back and repeating. 

“Think you might what?” He demands, keeping his gaze locked on yours as he fucks you.

“I’m gonna - gonna come.” You moan between thrusts.

“So fuckin’ needy. Aren’t you?” You met each of his thrusts with a flick of your hips. Even with the condom, you feel better than he could have ever imagined. All the things he wants to do to you run through his mind; he wants to take you from behind, or watch your tits bounce as you ride him, he pictures you strapped to the spanking bench in his room at the club. But right now he just wants to worship every inch of you. He wants to show you how you should be treated and loved. 

The words are on the tip of his tongue. I love you. 

He shifts his weight, one arm hooking under your leg so he can take you deeper. “Sweet girl, I want to feel you come on my cock.” 

“Fuckfuck don’t stop.” He peppers your jawline with kisses. 

“Kiss me,” he whispers. He tilts his head, parting his lips for your warm tongue. Joel starts fucking you faster. He breaks the kiss, “Come for me, baby girl.” 

“Are we going to be done if I do?” You ask. 

“No, baby.” He huffed a laugh, his hand pushing the hair away that’s started to stick to your forehead. “Never. I’m never going to be done with you.” 

“Joel - oh my god.” He feels you getting tighter and tries to distract his thoughts. He’s not ready to be done, but he’s not young anymore so he can’t risk finishing quite yet. “Your - your piercing.”

“Let go,” he says into your lips. He feels it then, that infinitesimal tightening of your pussy around his length before it begins to flutter. Your whine fills his head. He watches the pleasure fill your face, he swears he can see the clouds that form around your vision as you look deep into his eyes and succumb to your high. Your soft body quivers beautifully underneath him, “That’s my girl.”

The primal need to fuck you hard into his mattress simmers his skin. Not yet, not this time. She’s too perfect right now. 

“Tell me how it feels, sweet girl.”

Between pants you moan out, “So good, Joel.”

Your body begins to slow beneath him as your orgasm crests and he gives himself a mental pep talk to hold on just a bit longer. His cock is achy with the need to come, and it’s going to be slightly tortuous to stop, but he wants to take you at least one more time before you both fall into what is sure to be an exhausted sleep. 

His lips come to your shoulder. “I love fucking you. Your pussy was made for me.”

Your nails scrape at his back. “It’s t-too much. Fuck. Sorry…sorry.”

Joel stills his hips, releasing your leg and pushing his weight off of you, but doesn’t pull away. Your eyes are clenched tight, “Look at me, sweet girl.”

Your eyes pop open, pupils blown in pleasure and love. There’s no denying it now, he knows you feel the same. “Don’t be sorry.”

Your cheeks flush slightly, “But you’re not, you didn’t yet.”

“If you can’t say it, you shouldn’t be doing it.”

“You didn’t get to come yet,” you whisper.

“I don’t want to yet. I’m going to let you catch your breath and then you’re going to climb onto my lap and really learn what that piercing can do.” He winks and then gives you a small smile before slipping out of you. He rolls onto the mattress beside you, removing the condom and dropping it into the waste bin beside the bed. 

He hears you hiss, panic clogs his throat as he whips back towards you. “What’s wrong?”

You nod towards his almost impossibly hard cock. “That looks painful.”

“I’m ok, sweet girl.” He pulls you in, melting at the way your body molds so perfectly to his. He kisses your forehead, “You’re incredible.”

“You too.” You nuzzle deeper into him, your warm breath hitting his chest and your leg wrapping around his. 

There’s a few minutes of comfortable silence before you speak, “Hey Joel?”

“Mm-hmm?”

“I think we should ditch the condom.” He pulls back as you look up at him, “You have a vasectomy. I have an IUD. We had recent test results as per the club's rules.”

Joel swallows. Not wearing a condom, even though he had his vasectomy over a decade ago, has never been an option. Another rule of JMKink is that you have to be wearing a condom during all penetrative activities; even if the person you’re fucking is your husband or wife. It hits Joel then that the only person he’s felt that intimately before is Tiffany. 

“Are you sure? I know the chances of getting pregnant are very slim, but you got into law school today, I don’t want to risk anything.”

“I’m sure,” you hum. “I’m also sure that you should put that cowboy hat back on for the next round.”

[timmydraker]

Tim Drakes parents were very traditional and overly proud of the fact that they came from old money.

They boasted about this in many ways for several years, but once their son was born they decided they would use him as a prime example of how they would continue the old ways they learnt.

Tim learnt things like piano and proper dinner etiquette before he was four, and learnt old Latin and French as a means to showcase his wealth and knowledge. They made him learn many things and luckily he enjoyed most of them, especially when it came to STEM and reading.

They also valued the arts and wanted him to learn as much as he could about architecture and literature.

When he showcased some knowledge for waltz and ballroom dancing, they decided he should do dance lessons.

This is where Tim discovered Ballet and fell deeply in love with the artistic and passionate form of dance. He began to study it around the same time he grew an interest in Batman, though he had yet to try get photos of the man.

Tim talked to his instructor and asked the older man about male dancers in Ballet and Mr Volkov was more that happy to help. Tim’s parents weren’t very in tuned with their son by that point and only cared that he was attending classes that were traditional, so they payed no mind to him learning ballet.

The skills he learnt regarding balance and core strength was greatly appreciated when he began to stalk Batman and Robin. He would do his warm up stretches while thinking about what patrol route the two would make that night, considering why Bruce Wayne chose to become The Bat while he counted each step 1, 2, 3, 4 with the music. He wondered to himself why Jason Todd became Robin when Dick Graysons motivations were much more obvious as he practiced and perfected sauté and focused on how his hands were placed, something he often forget was important.

By the time he became Robin he had been allowed to do several permanences, and was practicing for his role as Prince Siegfried in Swan Lake in just a few months.

It was one of his biggest dreams to play as the Prince in such an iconic performance, especially when he got along well with both Odettes dancer and Odile’s.

Bruce and Dick are excited for him, though Dick shows it better, and Tim is overjoyed to know that his parents will be in town when the opening night is. They say they’ll come and are proud of him for being in such a well known play and doing so in the traditional manner that the play was once made in.

Tim does wonderfully and Alfred organises for it to be recorded for them all to watch later.

Tim is greeted by them back stage after it ends and excitedly runs up to Dick to receive a huge hug. Dick is loudly saying how proud he is and that he’s so impressed his brother can do such an amazing dance. It’s the first time they’ve seen him perform and they were enamoured.

But Bruce looks tense.

“Bruce? Did… did you not like-“

Bruce cuts him off with a hug, “Of course I like it. Loved it even. It’s just…”

It’s then that Tim looks around and notices his parents aren’t there. They could have just gone home, but they wouldn’t give up a chance to boast about their money and successful heir.

Unless…

Tim looks down and tries to hold back his tears, “they didn’t show, huh?”

Tim can’t help but break down once Dick moves in to hug him, yet as Mr Volkov and some of his costars who are his friends come up and join them, he feels okay.

It’s not Janet and Jack, but it’s nice. It’s warm and kind and maybe that’s all that matters.

[angclnumber]

"WELL, WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT . a win for fucking professionalism ." slater replies with a arch of their brow then, half almost amused and half not sure if they should be . slater's brows raise in understanding as odette goes on, and this time as they look down at their hand it's like they're seeing it for the first time . they shift their fingers before shrugging and meeting odette's eyes, "... you've been paying attention to that shit ?" slater asks curiously, head tilting . they merely nod as odette gives them the go ahead, not bothering to comment on the jab as she crosses her arms over her chest and bluntly says, "this was my manager's idea and, personally, i think it's bullshit ." slater has never pulled a single punch in her life . this is unfortunately no different . her brow raises . "ballet doesn't have jack shit to do with rock music . in a lot of ways they're fundamentally at odds ." somehow slater thinks that might say a lot more about the two of them than they're willing to admit . they determinedly try to ignore it as they shrug again . "but i don't want to be in the fucking music video . it's not my thing . and your shit apparently brings in a whole new audience or vibe or whatever ." slater doesn't feel the need to mention that odette was also good . more than good even . it doesn't seem relevant . they gesture to her and arch a brow as they say, "and that's why you're here . so, you know, do whatever you want and if i like it i'll approve it or whatever ." slater shrugs again . " but i can't imagine how this is going to actually go with my music ."

❝ well, that is something we can definitely agree on, ❞ she remarked, a sentiment that, while not necessarily unfavorable, hinted at a preference for the unconventional. nice often left her unenthused; she found herself drawn to the allure of those who didn't reciprocate her affections. an unhealthy obsession brewed, fueled by the thrill of pursuit in her privileged world. ❝ not a germaphobe, i'm just concerned about where it's been in, ❞ she clarified, revealing a discerning eye for who they have involved themselves with since they parted ways. ❝ be honest even though we both know how hard it is for you to be. ❞

[ahollowgrave]

I think with Dawntrail right around the corner I am removing all pressure to gpose from myself (and you, if you need someone too!)! If I wanna gpose I will but I don't want to 'force' myself too before the loss of crimes. Crimes that'll be returned!! just maybe a little different and in the mean time if I get a REALLY good idea I'll write it down and let it stew. That said, if I told you I'd GPose with your OC(s) or 'send' them postcards or anything of the like I fear they might be a bit delayed! But I don't wanna be anxious about Dawntrail's approach, I just wanna be excited.

[hazbinhotelxreader]

Protective Carmilla x fem blind reader!

“Stay Away From Them”

(Requested by PoosayDestroyer on AO3)

A/n: I hope this isn’t disrespectful towards blind ppl since I’ve never wrote about them before-

Summary: reader is blind, and some perv tries to upskirt her, and Carmilla is there to protect the reader

Noises, noises, noises. That’s it. The only thing you could ‘observe’ was noise. Reason for it? Your blind. You’ve been blind ever since you entered hell. The sinners in hell are based off of their insecurities, their deaths, and things they hate. You? You were always called ‘blind’ because you were so oblivious to a lot of things..and hell decided to ‘gift’ you with that.

It wasn’t all bad though. Hell did give you something that you don’t regret having, your lover Carmilla. She never minded that you’re blind, if anything she compliments you and appreciates you, even if you can’t see. And even if you can’t see her, you can just imagine how gorgeous she actually is, she sounds gorgeous too.

The weapon armer has always been so carrying and sweet for you. She’s basically your eyes. She helps you get dressed if you struggle, helps you get to places without bumping into anyone, and explains everything that’s going on that you cannot see. You really love her. Another thing she does for you is keep other demons away from you, she’s pretty darn protective.

Currently, you and her were walking around Pentagram cities streets in hell. She was with her daughters, and you, helping them out with orders in this part of town since she believed it was too dangerous for young girls like them to be alone. You decided to tag along because you just wanted to help and support.

While walking, she holds your hand to help you navigate through the streets and avoid demons. "Careful my love...there's.." she looked down at a dead sinners body that has been brutally gored by an exorcists spear, deciding to not tell you that theres a dead body right below your feet. "..a stump" she corrects and lightly pulls you around it.

"why's there a stump on the sidewalk?" you ask questionably, your head turned towards where her gorgeous voice was, trying your best to show your paying attention to her even if you can't see her.

Carmilla chuckles softly, she always found it cute when you weren't aware of many things, even if it was worrying too. "Oh well, it is hell afterall..something is going to be unexpected." she responds with a softer tone rather than her usual stern one.

"I guess your not wrong" you smile a little at her words and tone, oh god how much you'd do to see what she actually looked like, you know shes gorgeous. Odette and Clara came to a halt up ahead, Odette holding her clipboard as she checks off the territory, and Clara pulling an angelic spear out of a dead sinners body, lucky for you, you could only hear the spear pop out of the sinners side rather than see it.

Carmilla held your hand, then lead you over to a wall. She gently placed your hand on it, and told you to stay right there and to not let go. She wasn't going far, maybe 5 feet away from you wince her voice was pretty clear. She was talking to her daughters about some of the areas in the town they'd go to collect more of the angelic spears. You stayed quite, but also unaware. Lets just say today, wasn't the best day to wear a skirt.

While you were unaware, and obviously not paying attention to anything you can see-well, because your blind..a middle aged small imp approuched you. He was about half your size, maybe to your hips. he had a perverted smirk on his face as he sneaks up on your unaware and oblivious state. You gasp a little when you feel your skirt get lifted a little, there was no wind, so why..? Then you felt a hand on your rear, you jumped and spoke up "hey!" you exclaim with a gasp, catching your lovers attention.

Carmilla's head shoots over to your direction when she heard your distressed cry, and saw the hellborn, fury filled her eyes as she walked over and gave him a push, grabbing your hand to let you know your okay, as she glared down at him. "you little twit..touching girls? Do you really have nothing better to do with your pathetic little life?" the overlord threats with a dangerous look on her face, she would not tolerate such an act of disgust. "You have thirty seconds to run before i send a bullet through your retarded brain." she said calm, stern and intimidating with her arms crossed as she looked down at the quivering imp. The imp nods and scurried off fast, its safe to say he won't be coming near you again. Carmilla's tone and epression softened with concern laced with it. "Mi amor? are you alright? he didn't hurt you right?" she asked, both of her hands placed on the sides of your head as she tilted your head from side to side to check on you.

You let out a soft, shaken chuckle at her actions. "yea..im fine. Just a bit shaken.." you say softly, moving your hand up to hold one of her hands that were on your cheek, you looked in her eyes, even if you couldn't see her. "Thank you my dear..i probably would have been forced into something if you weren't here.." you say in appreitation.

"Anything for you my love.." she chuckled softly and gave you a soft kiss on your forehead while holding you close in her grasp. "Now lets get going, this town is already unsafe for the girls, and now you too. I don't feel comfortable putting you three in danger." she states worried, calling her daughters back over to you two as you both start to walk.

"fine by me.." you say as she takes your hand, leading you and being your eyes once again. Yes, being blind has its cons, you can't see, bumping into things are often, and you won't be able to observe things the ways others do...and it makes you feel left out. But, it also has its pros, its advantages, and sometimes the best thing that happened in your life, and for you, that Carmilla. No doubt about it.

[x-birdsong-x]

GODDD OKAY OKAY okay it's not in her playlist anymore just because I heard Florida through a wc playlist and GOD that is her song but if Miss Americana's bridge fit better i'd have kept it - but gooddddddd okay like. obviously platonically for the second verse it fits so well with 8x01 and the first verse is SO 16!adams coded and it drives me insane i'm sliding down the wall and punching the air projecting like she's a little whiteboard thinking about adams when she ran away (and when you got along with your pets better than your family what can you do but snap when you get home and find out you weren't there when your oldest dog died)

FIRST tho I just need to yell about the repeating "You play stupid games, you win stupid prizes" fitting Adams so perfectly. It's how she thinks of herself; it's how she's been taught to think of herself. What happened when she was a kid was her fault, the one time she reads House correctly is you took the first deal they offered you because you wanted to punish yourself, she gets herself fired doing House's test that for a second they both think was a mistake, as far as her opinion goes the accident in Nobody's Fault was her fault. Typical of me to put us all to shame something something

Second I can just link this post for a better explanation but watching Runaways and overanalyzing every little bit about her there is not a chance in the deepest parts of hell that Adams had good parents. They did SOMETHING to make her snap before she left. The way she responds to Callie is you could at least let her in the room and your mom knows she messed up, she's determined not to do it again and she's your mom, and for the first time she's acting like it and beyond everything else Callie is upset that her parent is not listening to her. Something something nothing scares me more than the stranger at my door who I fail to give shelter time and worth they are THE firewatcher's daughter patient/protag matchup

okay god where was i going. these are actually from last year so there's absolutely ways i'd change it now given i've dug into runaways' lines even deeper now and also my unholy amount of brain-animatics are rooted in warriors fandom song-matching so,,,, but here have the first verse(?) of my original freak-out about this . leaving out the second verse with ep 1 because there's too much i can't decide my opinion on looking at it now lol . never did anything past those verses because it just doesn't fit as well

also sorry i can't do anything about the quality firealpaca and tumblr do not get along

GOD there's SO many ways i'd change that now if i had time i'd redo it right now but they're all in pngs and idk where the actual files went

im so sorry i could go nearly line for line for everything before the bridge which is where it becomes more of a stretch but the first half of miss americana and the heartbreak prince works with adams and i can not be obnoxious enough about this she is a fidget toy to me

wait i love this. please tell me more I love hearing your Fidget Toy Adams thoughts

[burntheedges]

Pas de Deux Masterlist

Din Djarin x f!reader | 18+ | ~40k words | updates on Wednesdays main masterlist | ao3

summary: When Din Djarin – principal dancer at Concordia Ballet Company and generational talent in the classical style – suddenly left CBC and joined the Nevarro Ballet Theater mid-season, it shocked the ballet world. You never would have guessed that he would change your life, too.

full fic tags/warnings (spoilers!): modern AU, ballet AU, fluff, angst, flirting, dancing, lots of ballet terms (I’ll define things/link videos/etc. -- see below), misunderstandings, character study, romance, pet names (sweetheart, beautiful), lots of tension, later: smut, kissing, grinding, fingering, p-in-v sex, creampie, each chapter will have its own tags, Din lifts reader (see note below about reader)

a/n: welcome to the Din ballet fic!! I started writing this in April and it’s finally finished! I’ll post a new chapter every Wednesday, there are 14 total. There’s some smut coming but it’ll be a while, folks. See my notes below about reader in this fic and ballet in general. Thank you @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta, as always!! This fic is so much better because of you. 🧡 And thank you to @almostfoxglove for reading over it and confirming I didn't forget all my ballet, lol. 🩰

note about reader: in this fic you’re a ballet dancer, first soloist at Nevarro Ballet Theater company. I haven’t mentioned the reader’s body size or shape (or hair) basically at all, even to the point of avoiding clothing (except for costumes), but I understand the image that goes along with ballet – I danced for almost 20 years. Din does lift you many times. Please feel free to picture whatever you want, but I know that this might seem more limited. You also have a best friend named Adrian who is in the company with you. I never specified age, but to make first soloist most would be in at least their early 20s. Din is 27.

Chapter list and notes about ballet under the cut! Comment or reblog to join the tag list. 🥰🩰

Chapter List

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7 - coming Wed 11/27

...

some notes about ballet: I will share links to videos and such as much as possible, but here are some definitions to get us started – principal, (first) soloist, corps de ballet, variation, and class vs. rehearsal:

Principal - this is the highest level a dancer (of any gender) can reach in a company. Dancers are ‘promoted’ through the ranks. Principals usually have exceptional technique and artistry and can perform solos, pas de deux (partnering), headlining and/or the most challenging roles, etc. (e.g., the white (Odette) and black (Odile) swans in Swan Lake, both usually performed by one principal). Sometimes dancers are hired directly in as principals (like Din, in this fic). Smaller companies might have 5-6 principals, while larger ones could have as many as 20. Nevarro is somewhere between medium and large and has around 14 principals, including Din.

First Soloist - not every company has this rank, but it’s in between principal and soloist. Nevarro has 4 but they are counted among the soloists (12-14ish total). Soloists are often understudies for larger parts, and first soloists would do the same. In this fic reader is a first soloist, just promoted at the start of the season.

Soloist - this is sort of a middle level, for dancers who are doing very well and have proven themselves capable of taking on bigger roles. Many ballets have multiple roles, including supporting roles in the narrative, for soloists and principals to showcase many dancers’ talents. A smaller company might have 5-6 soloists, and a larger company might have as many as 20. (Larger companies also do more shows.) Nevarro is somewhere between medium and large and has around 12-14 soloists, including first soloists.

Corps de ballet - this is the lowest/starting level in a company. It’s where most would start from and has the largest number of dancers – these are the dancers who come out on stage in large groups or form the background unnamed roles in narrative scenes (like a party). Reader started in the corps and was promoted to soloist and then first soloist.

Variation - a solo dance, usually a piece from a larger ballet (e.g., the Sugar Plum Fairy in the Nutcracker). We say ‘variation’ because there are many ballets that have been choreographed differently by multiple people in the ballet world (e.g., there are famous versions of the Nutcracker by Petipa, Gorsky, Balanchine, Nureyev, Baryshnikov… and more). So there can be multiple variations of a solo from a single ballet, and more can be created or altered, etc. But in general the term just means solo.

Class vs. rehearsal - most companies distinguish between ‘class’ and ‘rehearsal’. Class is for the whole company and focused on improving technique. It’s quick and often repetitive and everyone sort of knows what to do. Most people would have ‘their’ spot at the barre and fall into a typical order for going across the floor. After class, most would go into multiple hours of rehearsal, PT, strength training, etc., depending on whether it was a performance day or not. Most companies are rehearsing for more than one performance at a time, so they might have a longer rehearsal for the show coming up this or next weekend, and a shorter one for another performance a bit farther away. But in the days leading up to a show, that show’s rehearsals would probably take over. This can vary by company. On show days, most would have fewer rehearsals with a 1-2 hour break before the call time to get ready.

Season - companies have 'seasons' which just refers to their plan for shows/schedule for the upcoming year. They might refer to like a fall season and a spring season, or the might have a full year schedule with different parts (fall/winter/spring), or they might have only a spring season that runs into early summer. It depends on the company and the size! In this fic Nevarro has a fall season and a spring season, but they tend to think about it as a full year for contracts/etc. They would have 3-4 big shows planned (think Nutcracker, Swan Lake, Giselle, Onegin, etc.) in each part of the season (so, 3-4 in fall and 3-4 in spring). And then they'd fill in the gaps in the schedule with "mixed programs", which are programs with multiple smaller ballets or pieces that feature a lot of dancers. So a mixed program might have a 20 minute Balanchine ballet, a pas de deux, a full corps piece from a larger ballet, and a piece for like 8 dancers. or something. Mixed programs are often when choreographers-in-residence and on staff get to debut their own work.

[barblaz-arts]

Hi Barb

I seen your snippet and I have to say I look forward to it since not only you are a great artist but also a talented writer ! I wish something like this happened in the future (cannon).

Charlie jealous of the Carmines because she have Vaggie alone for around four years till the Carmines show up and take Vaggie away from her(not most of the time but still ) I mean she is an only child of powerful and richest being she have her things alone and spoils even when she move out of her parents place and spent her time alone she got Vaggie who also spoils her but not that much spoils compared to her parents since Vaggie have common sense and I headcanon that Vaggie discipline Charlie for years since they are together .

Imagine, you with yours girlfriend for ages you found her secret the she kept from you since the beginning now both of you make up and your bond is stronger than before but now her space is wider and have room for more people not only you and she spends less time with you because she give her time to others that she admire and found. Also she seems happy and more alive.

Charlie is a princess but She is a Hell’s Princess. She may better than people in both Hell and Heaven but she still a demon.

To be fair, I think Carmilla and Vaggie both have a lot of things in common (from my perspective I always open for another opinion I like to read yours since you don’t jump into the conclusion that Lilith is evil like some people here )

1.Both of them are Latina

Maybe came from different countries but still have Spanish(español) as their first language I can imagine if they are speaking in the heat or argument or a discussion they would speak in Spanish and nobody understands what the heck did they just say? also as someone that not having English as my first language talking in my language is help me expressing more than English specially when I let my emotions speak. I believe the same thing would happen to Vaggie and The Carmines. Maybe in the short time , She would open up to them more and quicker than Charlie or the crews.

2. Both of them are the worst liar.

In episode 3, I am certain that most of people in the room know Camilla was the one who killed that Exorcist look at her reaction in the meeting they just don’t know how. And Vaggie said that she herself is the worst’s liar .The only reason she can kept her secret that long because the person she live with is Charlie(Who don’t have a good observing skill and not the best as Zestial at confronting someone to give them answers ). I know Vaggie never lie to Charlie but she also not telling her girlfriend the whole truth which is still wrong , I guess.

3. Both of them are the Keeper and the Protector.

They have someone they love dearly and is their first priority if the threat comes to them ; Carmilla : Odette,Clara > Herself, Vaggie : Charlie > the Crew >…..>Herself(I think Vaggie will probably protect civilians or children and put herself in the bottom of a pyramid because she’s an Angel also a soldier that have common sense to serve and protect people not Country.

4. Both of them are Dancer .

I want more of their screen time in episode seven. Vaggie can follow Camilla after she gets herself together.

5.Respect.

I’m not sure about Latin’s Culture about respect someone that older like Asian . I think Vaggie quite a well mannered person and respectful but it’s something that need to earned form her.

She don’t trust Alastor and his actions since theirs first impression I would say completely disaster. ( She may give him more respect after episode 8 since he fought with them)

About this makes me think if Vaggie meet Zestial when she visits Carmilla she going to like him . Zestial have little screen time but He show us that he’s a gentlemen that respect people boundaries even though he quite a gossip (He’s cute) but if he is someone that the Carmines open up for He maybe the first man that Vaggie feel comfort to be around (about Lucifer,that her father girlfriend and a king of Hell it might be awkward at first but they will get along in different ways)

She called Carmilla ‘Miss Carmine’ I know before She enter to Carmine’s compound she blackmailed her to enter but hey! they get along now.

6. Weapons and Training

I think Vaggie like exercise and enjoy training it’s healthy if you not use it for killing souls once a years. Even she in hell she still training (look at her shape and how she parkour) but she don’t have someone to duel with her that can point her mistake like Camilla (sometimes Clara or Odette )maybe that how they bound .

I can see Vaggie stop by at the Carmines place because she want someone to duel with(there is another word but I forgot) with people who can improve herself to be better.

Camilla is a business woman so when she busy she might send hers daughters to send the angel off but instead three of them bond and ‘play’ together (play: weapons test , duel , Vaggie being a 1st Angel Subject and test what Angel can do etc.)

In conclusion, we need Vaggie and The Carmines bonding time and Charlie being jealous in the background.

Thank you, Sorry for rambling.

It will be more,I promise.

P.S. here’s the sketch that describes my view about this (Also I have writing a some comic but I’m quite busy If you want more context or more sketches feel free to ask because I would love to share 😂)

The bit about Carmilla and Vaggie both being terrible liars sure is interesting. I never considered that!

Their relationship seems to have always been planned to be quite important, if this previous concept for a Ball Episode is anything to go by("Maxine" looks a lot like a prototype version of Carmilla)

I'd love it if they could bond more in the next seasons.

I love the idea of Charlie getting jealous of Carmilla too but for like the wrong reasons. Just to reference the fact that Vaggie and Carmilla's voice actors previously played lovers for In The Heights. It would be so funny.

And omg those sketches are adorable! What a cute art style!

[queen-of-reptiles]

𝚂𝚆𝙰𝙽

description: in which katie mccabe's girlfriend is on her final run of Swan Lake as Odette, and sometimes all you need is a bit of love to help say goodbye.

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katie mccabe x female reader

disclaimer: this is all a work of fiction - she never dated Rue and Caitlin in this :)

warnings: Nothing too bad, a little saucy and slightly sexual comments.

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y/n just posted

liked by katie_mccabe11, leahwilliamsonn and 98, 211

tagged birminghamroyalballett

y/n:

From Birmingham to Salford, to Sunderland to Edinburgh, to Plymouth and now back to Edinburgh to say goodbye.

This last year has been nothing short of breath-taking and a dream. To the cast who have been fantastic, thank you, I have made some lifelong friends.

To my dance teachers and directors, you gave a little nobody the chance to be her dream and I cannot be more grateful to you for that.

And finally, Odette, thank you for your have turned me into the princess a young girl once dreamed of being.

The best of luck to all those continuing, and onto the next journey.

love,

y/n xx

view 1098 comments...

ceasermorales: You are so fantastic! I will miss you very much, my odette! 🤍

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y/n: My prince 🤍🖤

username1: I am such a big fan, you have been the best Odette we have ever seen! 😭❤️❤️

Username2: OMG i follow you on TikTok! I love you!

katie_mccabe11: beautiful as always! <3

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username3: uhhhhh Katie? What you doing here?

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username4: omg is Katie lurking??? 😭

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username5: well ig Katie has never publicly dated anyone???

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username3: no please Katie cannot be taken!! 😫😫😫

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username6: bitch you're delusional, let Katie date people, she's not yours just cause she has never talked about her love life!!!

username7: THE WHOLE ARSENAL TEAM HAVE LIKED THIS!! 😱😱

yaoqinshang: It has been nothing short of an honour understudying you - thank you for all you taught me - I will miss you!

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y/n: Knock them dead kiddo - love you xx

rosannaely: Gonna miss you !

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y/n: Going to miss ya too xoxo

isabellahoward: gonna blow their minds out there !! xx

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username8: omg what is she doing??

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y/n: xoxo

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katie_mccabe11 just posted on her story

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Twitter/X

username1: Has anyone seen Katie's story????

username2: WHO IS THIS GIRL ON KATIE'S STORY?

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username3: Her name is y/n! This is her @ - @y/n - she is ballet dancer ! She just finished her run as Odette in the Royal Birmingham Ballet.

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username4: omg i watched her dance last month she was sooo good!! 🥺

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username5: SHE IS SO PRETTY AS WELL

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username6: she's quite big on Tiktok also thank you for finding her!

username7: Katie having a potential new gf who is A BALLET DANCER of all things is insane!!!!

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username8: She is also a ballroom dancer! my friend took a few masterclasses off of her and said she is like the sweetest thing!

username9: sunshine x stormcloud OMGOMG OMG cute!! 🥺❤️❤️

username10: they could just be friends though?

see more tweets...

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katie_mccabe11 just posted

liked by, leahwilliamsonn, arsenalwfc, and 129, 388 others

katie_mccabe11 how does she do this? 😶

view all 3298 comments

username1: omg omg its her!

username2: IS THIS CONFIRMATION? 🧐🧐

username3: cool katie, cool.

username4: NOOO why would she be with her??

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username5: she ain't even that pretty wtf??

leahwilliamsonn: I don't understand how much talent can be in one little body? Like how does she do it?

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katie_mccabe11: I think she's a witch honestly

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bethmead_: well, we alllll know who she's put a spell on if that's the case...

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leahwilliamsonn: 🫣🫣

caitlinfoord: do you think she could teach me?

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y/n: I would gladly! 😘

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katie_mccabe: no, we need Caitlin to be actually able to play, not broken.

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y/n: aw 🙁

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cailtinfoord: aw 🙁

jade_mc7: she's so cool - so much cooler than Katie!

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laurynmccabe15: agreed

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c_mccabe11: agreed

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_deanmccabe: agreed

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katie_mccabe11: OI little shites 😠

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arsenalwfc: we agree too Mccabe clan.

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username6: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

see more comments…

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y/n just posted

liked by, katie_mccabe11, caitlinfoord and 298, 356 others

tagged katie_mccabe11, caitlinfoord, leahwilliamsonn, bethmead_ and 4 others

y/n what a fun day :)

view 2126 comments

username1: SHE’S HANGING OUT WITH THE ARSENAL GIRLIES??

username2: SHE AND KATIE HAVE TO BE DATING?

username3: the way Katie is looking at her behind the camera 😩

leahwilliamsonn: I still don’t get how you go up on your toes 🤨

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caitlinfoord: I never want to learn, trying was enough 😭

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bethmead_: you mean face planting was enough …

kyracooneyx: I think i could do ballet full time 😁😁

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y/n: deffo, career change in the works 😘

katie_mccabe11: that photo of me ?? 🙄

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y/n: don’t i love it !!

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username4: 🧐🤨

viviannemeidema: 🩷

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y/n: 🩷

isabellahoward: CAN I COME NEXT TIME??

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y/n: YES OMG 🖤

see more comments…

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katie_mccabe11 just posted

liked by, y/n, leahwilliamsonn, and 321, 838 others

tagged y/n

katie_mccabe11 happy three years love - lucky to have ya to keep me calm <3

comments disabled

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y/n just posted

liked by arsenalwfc, bethmead_ and 211, 983 others

tagged katie_mccabe11

y/n three fantastic years with you, I cannot explain how much i love you and how grateful I am to have had you in my life.

I’m so glad you knocked me down in that park all those years ago, because it has led to the best thing in my life <3

Too many more my love xxx

comments disabled

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twitter/ X

username1: 3 YEARS??

username2: WE DIDNT KNOW FOR THREE YEARS???

username3: HOW? three entire fucking years

username4: i want more content of them now

username5: HARD LAUNCH KATIE

username6: I’m so confused with this relationship 😭😭

username7: THEY ARE SO CUTE #y/nmccabe

username8: HOW HAS THE ENTIRE ARSENAL CLAN KEPT THIS QUIET

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arsenalwfc: IT WAS HARD!

see more tweets…

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y/n sighed as her phone blew up yet again, her notifications going insane on the bench next to her as she watched her girlfriend train.

Jonas was shouting football instructions y/n vaguely recognised from the sidelines as the training session drew to a close.

y/n was lucky, Jonas was fine with her in the training sessions having been with Katie so long, the team loving her and the fact a lo of the training staff's children had private dance lessons with y/n.

As the session slowly drew to a close, y/n left her phone blowing up on the bench as she went around and helped with picking up the cones.

She found herself at the training centre more often recently, finding it boring being at home while she waited for the announcement of her new job, the BBC still keeping it quiet.

As y/n bent down and grabbed another cone, two familiar hands placed themselves on her hips and as she stood back up she was pulled back into a chest.

"Alright, twinkle toes?" Leah asked with a mock Irish accent, y/n laughed as Katie's head popped up at the sound of her, the Irish woman rolling her eyes at her teammate who had her arms around her girl.

"Oi, Williamson, hands off!" Katie yelled, leaving Caitlin and Alessia who rolled their eyes as the Irish woman chased down the currently benched blonde captain.

Katie's hands pushed Leah from y/n, the blonde stumbling as Katie wrapped her arms around her lover, pressing a long kiss to her lips as y/n squeaked and turned to face Leah worriedly.

"Katie careful with her!" The dancer chided her girlfriend who rolled her eyes as Leah pouted, leaning into the natural worry the dancer had for her.

"Yeah Katie, careful with me." Leah mocked and the Irish woman scoffed.

"No." Katie chided as y/n tried to move from her arms.

"I wanna help." The dancer whined at her girlfriend. Katie just shrugged and kissed her again, Leah groaning in disgust as she walked off, wanting to go bother someone else.

"Y/n! Your phone's going mental!" Kyra calls from across the pitch, y/n pulls away from the worryingly addictive lips of her girlfriend and looked toward the young girl.

"Yeah, I know darling, just leave it." y/n called, Kyra grinning at her as she followed the rest of her team inside, leaving the two lovers alone on the pitch.

"Social media still going mad over us?" Katie asks her worriedly, her slightly clammy hand coming up to cup her love's cheek as she nodded.

"Yeah, but it will die down eventually." The girl said unbothered.

"You sure you are still okay with us going public?" Katie asks and the dancer giggled.

"Too late to take it back now Katie-bear." She smiled, Katie hushing her use of the nickname which melted her heart.

"Shh, if the girls heard that nickname I would never heard the end of it." Katie tells her and the dancer in her arms laughed, Katie's hands squeezing her waist tighter at the sound which made her heart light.

"Oh yeah, you have to keep up that big bad wolf persona." y/n mocked with a giggle, Katie looking at her offended.

"Excuse me, I am a big bad wolf." Katie defended.

"In your dreams lovie." y/n laughed, but she screeched when Katie threw her over her shoulder, Katie's strong hands holding tight to her thighs as she began to spin in circles.

"Ready to say sorry?" Katie asked, her grin wide at the sound of her lover's giggles.

"Okay, okay I'm sorry." She called, which caused Katie to place her back on her feet, the Irish woman's hands coming to rest on her hips to steady the dizzy girl, who hadn't been able to spot on a place while being spun.

The dancer giggled again and Katie couldn't help but cup her face and pull her in for a kiss, their lips meeting and Katie quickly deepening the kiss.

Katie's arms moved back down to grip the hips of her lover, pulling her closer to her body, y/n's small arms wrapping around Katie's neck, holding tight as she pulled herself up and closer.

Katie's tongue infected her mouth, claiming her as she squeezed her tighter to her body, both of them too caught up in the deep kiss to hear Leah coming to look for them.

"Oh come on!" Leah huffed. "Take a breath!" She yelled at them, Katie rolls her eyes as her hand slips down and squeezes her girlfriend's ass to annoy the blonde who gagged from afar.

y/n pulled away giggling, as Katie squeezed once more before letting her go, the Irish woman grabbing her hand as they walked toward Leah, the blonde holding the dancer's phone in her hand.

"You two are sickening." Leah says, a thump echoing her statement causing Leah to whine, and cling to the dancer who instantly comforted her.

"Katie!"

"What?"

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y/n just posted on her story

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END

hope you enjoyed the added little fic xoxo

hope this is what you wanted @lionesses-lions xxxx

I will probably make a part 2 honestly. :)

-

Queenie xx