#hes smitten for his brown eyed man

[tiringwritings]

[joelmillersdumbslut]

Only bought this dress so you could take it off (joel miller x f!reader) 18+

summary: You spend your workdays pining over your favorite customer, Joel Miller, until he finally asks you out on a date. (no outbreak au. no use of y/n)

rating: 18+ explicit (minors do NOT interact)

warnings: age gap (reader is in early 20's, joel is early 40's), dirty talk, hand kink, pet names, reader is inexperienced, oral sex (f! and m! receiving), fingering, handjob, p in v sex, a little fluff at the end, basically smut with the tiniest bit of plot

word count: 3.3k

a/n: i just really wanted to write a smutty oneshot! hope you enjoy it ♡

ao3 link

Normally, when customers hit on you, you’re quick to shut them down.

“No, thanks, I have a boyfriend.”

“Sorry, I have night classes.”

“My parents won’t let me date until I’m 35.”

Or straight up, “No.”

But, when Joel Miller first walked into the coffee shop you work at, you couldn’t take your eyes off him. You had just finished steaming milk for a latte when your coworker rang him up at the register. You fumbled with the steel pitcher as Joel shot a glance your way, his brown eyes burrowing into you. The frothy milk burned the back of your hand, but it didn’t even compare to the burning you felt deep inside your abdomen.

For the next few weeks, Joel would chat you up at the pickup counter while you poured his coffee. He takes it black. No milk, no sugar, no bullshit. He’d ask you questions about the beans. Where they’re grown, how do you get them, what setting you grind them at for the best taste. All you could think about was the way his lips curled into a small smile after the first sip. Or how his fingers brushed against yours as you handed him his coffee. It felt wrong, sometimes immoral, to be so smitten with a man old enough to be your father. You couldn’t help but get doe-eyed every time he walked in through the door. Even your coworkers started teasing you, telling you Joel came in on your day off and asked for you. You’d brush it off and pretend it didn’t happen, but you secretly hoped that it did. You were dying to get to know him better, or at least find out more than just how he takes his coffee.

So, when he came in on a dreary Monday, looking a little pale and feverish, you asked him what was going on. He exhaled sharply through his nose as you let the coffee cascade from the brewer into the paper cup. But, his words were floundering in the sea of coffee shop noises and you couldn’t hear him well. You beckoned him to lean across the counter, cupping your ear. When his mouth grazed against your lobe, your belly ignited once again when you heard the words, “What I’m tryin’ to say is… would you wanna go out on a date with me?”

—

You’d never put out on the first date before. At least not until now. Joel Miller took you to see a movie, but you can’t remember what it was about. Probably because he had a firm grip on your thigh the entire time. His fingers slowly dragging their way up your leg as the movie played on the big screen. It’s a good thing you picked seats in the very back row where no one could see you leaning over to kiss him. It took him by surprise, but he welcomed it nonetheless. You placed your hand on his cheek, turning him towards you as you gently brushed your lips against his. He returned the favor, and soon enough his tongue was poking through your lips to meet your own. Just as you were about to reach for his belt buckle, the overhead lights came on and you both jolted back. You smoothing out your dress, Joel hiding the front of his jeans with a popcorn bucket. He held your hand all the way to the car, and even opened the door for you.

—

It was hard to resist a gentleman like Joel Miller. He walked you to your apartment door, lingering in the hallway while you pulled a set of keys out of your purse. He was about to bid you a good night, when something possessed you to mention, “You know, my roommate’s working the night shift. If you wanna come in.”

A slow smile creeped up on his face, “Whaddya have in mind?”

You could feel your cheeks burn, your eyes dropping to the floor. “I’m not that kind of girl,” your whisper almost inaudible, “I mean. Maybe I am. But, just for you. Because… I like you.”

Joel lifted your chin, his gaze meeting yours. “I like you too.”

Then he gestured towards the door, “I’ll come in. Stay a while.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you opened the door and his hand rested on the small of your back.

—

Joel Miller is hard to resist. Especially with the way his tongue grazed the inside of your thighs.

You led him to your room, locking the door behind you. A switch flipped, his eyes hungry, his pants tightening around his thighs. You stood together in your dimly lit bedroom, tongues colliding, hands groping in places you’d never let a stranger go before. It wasn’t long before you pulled away abruptly.

“I have to tell you something first,” you looked around nervously, and sat down on the edge of the bed. Joel’s expression softened, sitting down next to you, pulling your hand into his lap.

“I know it may not seem like it. But, I don’t really have much experience. So, you’ll have to… go slow with me. Maybe even teach me how to do certain things, I guess,” you admitted, absentmindedly picking at a loose thread on your dress hem with your free hand.

Joel brushed your hair out of your face, kissing your shoulder, and then your neck. “Don’t worry, darlin’. I’ll teach you everything you need to know.”

A beat. Then he asked, “Have you… done it before?”

You could feel your face turn flush again as you looked at his hand holding yours. It’s so… huge. Calloused. You wondered if he’s a construction worker or some kind of laborer. You couldn’t remember if he’s ever mentioned his occupation. Then you wondered what it would be like to have those fingers inside you. Sliding in and out as he massages your favorite spot. You might soon find out.

You shook those thoughts from the forefront of your mind to answer his question, “I have. But, just a few times. I never really got anything out of it.”

Your words came with a sheepish inflection. But, Joel didn’t make you feel inadequate or insecure. Instead, he gently held your face, those rough hands against your soft skin.

“I’ll show you,” is all he said.

—

Joel Miller clouded your mind as you pulled your dress over your head, suddenly feeling embarrassed that today of all days you had chosen not to wear a bra. You were exposing your breasts to this man you hardly knew. A man old enough to have raised you. But, Joel didn’t seem to mind. He palmed his bulge through his jeans, watching you undress.

“Do you… Want me to take these off?” you asked, thumbing the waistband of your underwear.

He stepped closer to you, still touching himself through his clothes. “Not now. I’ll tell you when to take ‘em off,” he grunted. “Get on the bed.”

Fire began to burn inside your lower stomach. Maybe you were overthinking this, but Joel was definitely not like the guy you’d been with before. And you realized it was turning you on, Joel being so much older and taking control over you. What could you do to keep him that way? Your answer came swiftly, as you climbed onto the bed and laid down for him. All you needed to do was be obedient.

“What should I do now?” you asked, your breath faltering as he began taking off his pants.

A smirk danced across Joel’s face as he ignored your question, “You like watchin’ me?”

“Yes,” you answered quietly, your core burning hotter than a thousand suns.

After stripping down to his boxers, Joel laid down next to you, his hand firmly planted on your thigh.

“You thinkin’ ‘bout me earlier? At the movie theater?”

“Yes,” you began to melt, wondering if it was possible to explode from his touch alone.

“Good girl,” he cooed, his hand moving towards your underwear. He stopped at the fabric, his hand rubbing the outside. Your breath hitched and he chuckled. His fingers dipped inside, rubbing your clit. Then sliding down to your entrance. You gasped for air as he pulled away. It had been so long since you’d been touched like that, you nearly forgot what it felt like. In fact, it almost felt like nothing you’d ever felt before. You decided to allow this brand-new feeling to wash over you, as Joel nipped at your neck, leaving marks for the world to see.

“God, you’re so wet already,” he murmured. “That all for me?”

“Yes, Joel,” you whispered.

The smirk returned to his face as he crawled down the bed, “Take those off.”

You instantly did as you were told. An excitement brewed inside you, curious to see where this would go. Joel spread your legs apart, a whimper involuntarily leaving your throat as he examined you. He smiled again, shaking his head slightly.

“So pretty,” he grinned, looking up at you. “Anyone ever eat your pussy?”

“N-no. My ex wouldn’t do that,” you explained, suddenly ashamed by your lack of experience. That didn’t seem to deter the older man though. If anything, it fueled his ego even more.

“Don’t worry, darlin’. I’ll make you feel better than that kid ever did.”

—

And you soon learned Joel Miller kept his word.

He began licking you gently, starting at your clit. It took you by surprise, how something you’ve never experienced could feel so fucking good. His tongue shifted up and down, making you moan. Instinctively, you covered your mouth so your neighbors, or even worse, your soon-to-arrive-home roommate, wouldn’t be able to hear you, but Joel reached up to pull your arm away.

“I want everyone in this building to hear you, baby.” He started sucking on your clit, making you whimper even louder. “That’s it, make some noise for me.”

He picked up the pace, your body tensing up, the pleasure coursing through your veins. You began to wonder if you could cum simply from his mouth alone, but soon his fingertips were tracing your hole.

“Please tell me your boyfriend at least fingered you,” Joel teased, dipping inside of you gingerly. You wanted him so badly, but you forgot how to use your words. This seemed to amuse Joel, as he continued to trace the outline with his fingertips.

“Yes,” you stifled another moan, “B-but, he never got me off.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that with me, sweetheart, I’m gonna make you cum as hard and as often as I can,” Joel slowly inserted a finger, making you inhale deeply. “That feel okay? Need at least two, maybe three to get you ready for me.”

Hard? Often? Three fingers?! Before you could even begin to process his arrogance, Joel quickly worked his magic, curling his finger inside you. He easily added another one for good measure, your vision going blurry from the satisfaction you were receiving.

“Fuck,” you exclaimed, feeling the wave rising up inside you immediately. You realized it wasn’t arrogance after all. He truly knew what he was doing to you. And he was doing it well. “Joel, I-I think you’re gonna make me cum already.”

“That’s okay, baby, cum all over me,” he murmured and resumed sucking on your clit. And soon enough, your hips convulsed, legs shaking as Joel rode the high with you. He slowed down as you returned to Earth, glancing up at you with a twinkle in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you nervously blurted out, “I don’t usually get off that fast.”

His hand reached for yours as he repositioned himself on the mattress, kneeling at your side. “No need to apologize, darlin’. Besides, you’re so pretty when you cum.” He leaned down to kiss you lightly, and you realized his boxers were still on. His cock straining against the fabric. You looked up at him expectantly, biting your lip.

“Alright, sweetheart. Your turn to make me feel good now,” he brought your hand to his waistband. “Take these off,” he growled, the hunger returning to his brown eyes.

You quickly got to work, helping Joel remove what little was left of his clothing. The sight of his cock made your eyes widen. You could feel the wetness dripping down your thighs at the mere thought of what it’d feel like to have him pumping inside you.

You don’t have to imagine that for long though, as Joel’s southern drawl snapped you back to reality. “Touch me,” he ordered, on his knees again next to you. “Show me what you can do.”

Your hand wrapped around his cock. Starting at the base, you moved upward slowly. You kept glancing at Joel to gauge his enjoyment, or worse, any potential displeasure. But, you didn’t need to worry about that. The room was filled with his grunts and moans. You wanted to impress him, so as your hand travelled back up again and your thumb grazed his slit, gathering precum, making the slide back down his shaft even easier.

“Think you were lyin’ to me, darlin’. You know exactly what you’re doin’,” Joel groaned, a sly smile spreading across his face. “Why don’t you try takin’ me in your mouth?”

A fire roared deep within your belly again as you sat up a little straighter. You leaned over with your mouth agape, beginning to suck the tip of his cock. Joel’s whimper startled you, but the sounds of pleasure encouraged you to take more of him. Or as much as you could. He was bigger than you had imagined. Spit dribbled down your chin as Joel reached the back of your throat. You peered up at him as he took a handful of your hair, guiding you as he gently fucked your mouth.

“You look so pretty with your lips wrapped around my cock,” he sighed, “Are you ready for me, baby?”

You nodded, maybe a little too eagerly. It made Joel chuckle as he pushed you back onto the bed, spreading your legs far apart. Holding his cock, he lined up to your entrance, stroking the tip up and down against your pussy. A guttural moan erupted from inside you at the feeling. The primal feeling of needing him inside you now.

“This might hurt,” he whispered, “But, I know you can take my cock.”

His words rang through your ears, making you lightheaded and dripping wet. You nodded slowly and the fire burned even brighter, your eyes meeting his.

Joel stroked himself again as he propped your legs up, “Gonna go nice and slow for you. Just relax and let me make you feel good.”

His fingers dipped inside you again as his other hand wrapped around his cock. He rubbed against your sweet spot, the pressure beginning to build again already.

“Tell me when you’re ready, baby.”

“I’m ready,” you whispered.

—

You couldn’t believe it. After weeks of pining and longing for your favorite customer, Joel Miller, he was finally inside you.

It hurt at first, your body could only manage to take the tip. Guess he was right about needing three fingers. You initially cried out at the strange mix of pleasure and pain. Joel was quick to kiss you, holding you tenderly until you were ready to try again. The second time was the charm. He penetrated you slowly as he grabbed your hand. He placed it over your clit, helping you move in small circles. The bliss radiated throughout your body as Joel continued to enter you until his length went as far as it could go without hurting you any more.

“Knew you could take my cock,” he purred, “Good girl.”

He pumped slowly and deeply, managing to be careful enough not to hit any areas that might hurt you again. “This good, baby? Wanna hear you.”

Joel could hear you alright. You kept rubbing your clit and with each thrust, he hit your G-spot. It was the perfect combination, something you didn’t know could possibly exist. You just knew your sheets were going to be soaked, if they weren’t already.

“If you keep doing this, I’m gonna cum again,” the whine slipped off your lips.

He chuckled, his pace quickening. “Good. Need to get you there a couple more times before it’s my turn. Cum for me.”

And the pressure inside you released and you exploded all over his cock, your cum streaming down the insides of your thighs.

Joel laughed, slowing down to fix your hair. “How was that, baby?”

Your lips quivered as you nodded frantically, practically begging him for more. The sex with your ex-boyfriend completely paled in comparison to this session with Joel. You were starting to hope maybe it could become a regular thing. Maybe Joel could keep showing you the nooks and crannies you didn’t know existed within your body.

Before you had the chance to ask, Joel pulled you up into a sitting position, laying next to you on his back.

“Ever ride before? Think you’ll like it,” he winked, gesturing for you to get on top of him.

You crawled onto his lap, his cock swaying before you. You stared down at him, your legs on either side of his hips, still shaking from your last orgasm.

“Don’t get shy on me now, sweetheart. You need my help?”

You nodded, feeling a little self-conscious. Despite being prone, Joel lifted you up, guiding his cock back inside you. Your eyes widened as it hit new places you had never discovered before. You began to resent your ex a little for being a shitty lover. But, Joel pulled you back into the real world with his honeyed words.

“You’re the one in control, baby. Move the way that feels good,” he encouraged you, setting his hands on your hips.

You began to experiment, rolling your body back and forth slowly. You quickly found a rhythm that worked best for both of you, your moans bouncing off Joel’s sighs. His hand moved forward, thumbing your clit while you rocked your hips. You could feel another orgasm building inside your core, but you slowed down in an attempt to last longer. Joel, of course, noticed.

“You can cum, baby, I don’t mind.”

“But-“

“But, what?”

“I wanna cum with you.”

His eyes sparkled, and he started rubbing your clit faster.

“Wanna cum with me? Say it.”

“I wanna cum with you,” you repeated, tears welling at the corners of your eyes, the stimulation becoming overpowering.

“Say it again, darlin’.”

You couldn’t take it anymore, you were so desperate to feel your release.

“I wanna cum with you.”

And as soon as your words hit the air, your orgasm toppled over you, screams erupting from your throat. Joel followed suit, muttering incoherent nonsense, but the few words you could catch amidst the chaos were, “good girl.” Your hands rested on the headboard as you leaned over Joel, panting like you just finished a marathon. Well, you supposed you kind of did. Glancing at the clock, it had been three hours since you brought him back to your room. In the past, it was usually three minutes.

You lowered yourself back onto the bed, curling up in the crook of Joel’s arm. His scruff brushed against your cheek as he kissed you.

“How was that, baby? You learn anything?”

You giggled, still mesmerized by his touch. And his cock. “I was hoping maybe you could teach me more,” you admitted, taking his hand in yours.

Joel chuckled before kissing you again. “I’ll teach you everything, baby.”

—

[crit20art]

[ID: a digital drawing of Jonathan Sims and Martin Blackwood from The Magnus Archives wearing a dress and a skirt, respectively, and holding hands while walking. Martin is depicted as a tall, fat Polish-Vietnamese man with light brown, freckled skin, short, dark hair, and stubble. He wears a crop top with a binder peeking beneath the hem, and a high-waisted, ankle-length skirt with a split up the side. He also wears glasses, and glances aside with a blushing, bashful expression. Jon looks up at him with a bright-eyed, lovestruck expression. He is depicted as a short, thin British-Pakistani man with dark brown skin and many scars, including a large burn on one side of his head. His long black-and-grey hair lays in a braid over one shoulder, and he wears a partially sheer strapless dress with a hi-low hem. He walks with a cane, which is sky blue and has pride stickers on it: an ace flag, a bi flag, a progress flag, and a heart with trans colors. End ID.]

@milkteamoon wisely pointed out that we see a lot of Jons in skirts but not many Martins… so naturally i had to dress him up!!! 😩

I think he would be hesitant at first and worried he’d look silly but then he’d see himself and get all flustered cause what’s this?? Martin K(inda low self esteem) Blackwood is really feelin himself??

and ofc Jon would be smitten :)

[miyuhpapayuh]

fourteen

Back in front of the blank canvas, she deeply sighs.

What to paint?

She'd been sitting here for the last hour, wondering the same thing.

Flowers were always a favorite, but she was in the mood to try her hand at something else.

Maybe someone else.

Dipping her paintbrush into the deep brown paint, she sighed again and let her mind wander, while letting it dance across the canvas.

Halfway through, she pulls back and smiles at the outcome, feeling more smitten than she ever has before.

Turning the music up just a bit louder, she continues on, filling the blank space with her newest subject.

Once she was done, she sat and marveled at her work, placing her fingers over the fine detailing and smiling to herself.

Oh, Leon.

She'd painted him in five different ways, each one more strikingly beautiful than the last.

Never had she sat and painted a man in such vivid hues of brown, blue and orange. With such emotion, such thought.

“Wow,” seemed to be her favorite word to describe moments that involved him. This one was no different.

She loved Leon. She was in love with him. No doubt.

He was just as in love with her, if not more.

She clouded his mind just as much. So much, she was his permanent muse for every piece of poetry he'd written over the last month.

Her hair.

Her smile.

Her scent.

Her eyes.

Big and brown,

Full of wonder,

Of love,

Of life!

Her wit,

Her charm,

Her spice,

Her warmth.

All wrapped in mocha,

Kissed by a thousand suns.

Curves that would make a blind man crash.

A sharp tongue that would make the most confident man crumble.

A heart of gold.

Skin made of silk.

A goddess, for real.

Meeting each other back in her love lair, the pair exchange their heartfelt gifts, neither of them ready for how it tugs on their hearts.

“You wrote me a poem??” She gushes, holding the orange envelope to her chest. Her twinkling eyes made him smile extra big.

“I did! You painted something for me??” He asks, staring down at the board, neatly wrapped in deep green paper.

“I did! You wanna open yours first?” She excitedly asks, making him tear right into it.

His surprised gasp, coupled with his shocked expression, does her in. She was hoping to god that he liked it, at least.

“Zora.. wow, this is so… wow!” He stares at the canvas, struggling to find the words that express how breathtaking it is.

“Do you like it?” She asks, shifting her weight.

“I love it, mama. Absolutely. I— I've never been painted before. I don't think anyone's ever even sketched my face! It's so detailed and wow.” He repeats, making her blush.

“I told you, you're my prettiest subject,” she smiles, “I've got a whole sketchbook full of your face.”

The way he looked at her could've melted her right into the ground.

“Read your poem, sweet stuff.”

“Okay,” she says, her voice coming out small.

Pulling the paper out, her eyes linger on every word, her heart beating double-time at his sweet, sweet words.

“Ohh, you just love to make me cry!” She laughs through her small tears, wiping them away with the back of her hand.

“You like it??”

“Hell yeah, boy! This is so sweet! I love the way you talk about me.”

“Like I can talk about anything else,” he says with a shake of his head. “You cloud my brain, woman. I wrote like five different poems about you.”

“Like you're any better! Got me drawing and painting you.” She stares at him wide-eyed.

“You're so talented, baby.” He coos, pulling her into his arms finally, wrapping her up in his warmth, while he feeds on hers.

“So are you, handsome.” She rubs the back of his head, kissing his forehead as he hugs her tightly to him.

“Our anniversary is in a couple days.”

“I know! Six months!” She gushes.

“It's crazy how time flies, huh?”

“Well, when you're having so much fun, it does tend to slip on by.”

“I made reservations, but I cannot tell you where. It's a surprise.” He says, snickering at the look on her face.

“We gettin’ all gussied up?!”

“Hell yeah, baby! Pull out your best dress and we gon paint the town orange.”

“Aw, you are so cute!,” she frowns, pecking his awaiting lips a thousand times.

“I know, lucky me.” He bashfully smiles, hugging her waist tighter.

“Now I'm gonna stress until Friday, tryna figure out what to wear!”

With the chilly air that late October brings hanging in the air, Zora was contemplating on 86’ing the dress idea altogether for something more practical, knowing how much she despises the cold.

“I have faith that we'll be able to pull something together.”

“Yeah, I probably won't be wearing a dress, though. It's a lil too cold for that.” She laughs.

“Yeah, I didn't even think about that,” he chuckles, "I just know that's your go-to. But, I know you're gonna look absolutely stunning! That's a given.”

“If it's possible, I love you even more.”

“Ah, my heart grows ten sizes with every glance your way. Every word you say,” he presses another kiss to her lips, dipping her back into her heap of pillows.

“Such a way with words,” she giggles, halting the wandering hand before it reaches the hem of her t-shirt.

“It's not over yet,” she mumbles, matching the frown he sported.

After summer ended, so did their free time. They were lucky if they got to see each other on the weekends, due to preparation for the holiday season.

The warehouse Leon worked at seemed to have a million pre orders for a variety of the new gift items they advertise, keeping him at work almost overnight, sometimes.

The pub had been jumping still with all the changes Linda made, including a complete renovation of the restaurant, which included an actual dance floor, an ole-timey jukebox, and a larger dining area and bar once she knocked out a wall.

Zora had started pulling longer hours, while Linda was in the process of expanding their team, which she didn't mind, but she'd never been so tired in her life.

At the end of days like that, the pair were lucky if they hit their own beds correctly, before having to jump right back out of them the next day.

And with their impending anniversary right around the corner, on top of it being the first one they were gonna go all out for, Mother Nature paying her a visit couldn't have come at a better time. 

But she was on her way out the door!

“I know,” she laughs, “that's how I feel, too! I'll be clear in like a day or so, though.”

Moving his hand back to her knee, he smirks. “Just in time for the festivities, huh?”

“Yeah, I may have an extra surprise for you, too.” She bats her lashes at him.

“Oh?”

“Maybe,” she smirks. “Maybe not.”

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Friday dragged its feet and the couple's nerves along the way, knowing they were ready to detach themselves from their jobs without thought.

As if teleporting to her apartment, he opens the unlocked door like she requested through text, immediately getting an earful from him as he heads down the hall.

“Now, Zora, you know how I feel about unlocked doors.”

“Leon, you were like five seconds away. Nobody was gonna get me.” She says, staring at him through her vanity mirror while she applies her lip gloss.

“Still. I've got a key for a reason. Let me use it.” He says, before leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead, running his hand over her freshly pressed and still billowy hair.

“You look beautiful, as always. I like your hair.” 

“Thank you! I rarely wear it like this ‘cause it's so hard to keep up with, but I was missing it and it's a special occasion, and this qualifies as my something different.”

“Checked it off your own list?”

“Yeah, why not!”

“Why not.” He smiles, agreeing with her.

She smiles back, before standing to her feet to face him, both of them cracking up at the 360 they give each other.

“See? I had faith in you and you did it, Jean.” He pokes, twirling her around. “You look damn good, baby.”

A cropped white top and high-waisted, wide-leg distressed jeans was a pretty basic outfit, which is why god invented cardigans. An orange and pink one did just the job at setting her outfit off.

“I didn't find it until last night, don't be too proud.” She sighs.

“Woman, please. Point still stands, you put it together like only you can.” He flirts, wrapping an arm around her waist, their faces just a few inches apart as they gaze at each other.

“Every chance you get, for real.” She pokes back, making him suck his teeth, planting a kiss on her lips still.

“You already know it, sweet stuff.”

Taking a step away, she looks at him again. An orange beanie pulled over his low-cut and his beard was full and shiny, begging her nails to play with it, which she’d definitely ended up doing.

His green leather jacket, black sweater and jeans combo was doing so many things to her, as was the heavenly scent wafting off of him.

Vanilla? Bergamot??

“Whatever you're wearing, always keep a bottle near.” She speaks, earning a smirk from him.

“Yes ma'am.”

“You look so good, baby.” She compliments, moving back into his hold.

“Thank you, mama.”

“Mhm, and thank you for six bouquets of poppies! That was the cutest thing ever.”

“Anything for you,” he kisses her again, before looking at his watch. Right on time.

“You ready to go?”

“Absolutely.”

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The Petal Café was one of the newest, fanciest restaurants in town and Leon made quick with getting reservations, thankfully bypassing the huge waiting list.

“This place is so beautiful!” Zora squealed for the millionth time, making him laugh and squeeze her hand from across the table.

“I'm glad we made it, cause that waiting list is a year out, now.” He says with a shake of his head.

“What?? That is wild! Let's hope the food lives up to its hype!”

“I know, right. Everything looks really good, though.”

The waiter comes over and sits their drinks down, before taking their food orders and leaving them alone again.

“I'm certain we said it already, but happy anniversary, doll face.” He says, going back to squeezing her hands.

“Happy anniversary, baby. Best six months I’ve ever spent with anyone.”

“Same here, you’re one of my best friends.”

“Really??” She asks, squeezing his hands back now.

“Absolutely! It’s been an absolute dream getting to know the world of you, and to experience life with you is just as dreamy.”

She was thankful that she went light on her makeup, cause she knew it would’ve been ruined with him and sweet words.

“Oh, Leon,” she frowns, “you're the epitome of a dreamboat. When I say I love you, I really mean it. I don't think I can say it enough.. but thank you for showing me what actual love feels like,” her voice cracks near the end of her sentence.

A soft smile covers his lips, as he's keeping his own tears back.

“It's my pleasure showing you what you deserve, Jean. That'll never end.”

Knowing she was gonna cry, she beckoned him to her with her pointer finger, pressing her lips to his, giggling against them as her tears fell down her cheeks.

Pulling away to cup her face in one hand and wipe her tears with the other, he laughs as she reaches up to wipe his own tears away.

“Nique was right, we are sappy.” He points out, making her shake her head.

“Don't let her hear you say that, we'll never live it down!” She exclaims, making them fall into a small laughing fit.

“I love you, Jean.”

“I love you too, Avery.”

After indulging in the well worth it cuisine, the pair move their party to the expansive bar, which happens to sit right beside a huge flower garden, a few orange and yellow roses sitting the closest to them.

“How'd you know about this place?” Zora asks, sipping her rum.

“Eryn told me about it, actually. Saw an ad about them opening a location here and gave me the details. As soon as I heard the name, I knew we had to come here.”

“Aw, you know me so well!”

“I better, ‘fore somebody try and take my job.” He cracks, making her laugh and lean into him.

Any opportunity to wrap his arm back around her, he'd take it. Pressing another kiss to her face, he goes back to sipping his own glass of rum.

“Nobody could ever do such a thing, baby.”

“Touché, sweet stuff. Nobody holds a candle to you.”

Two more drinks and it was time for them to move their party back to the privacy of her apartment.

As if teleporting back to her front door, Zora pulls Leon inside and sits him down on her bed, before disappearing into her bathroom.

“I'll be right back!”

“Whatchu hidin’, baby?” He slurs, a wicked smirk crossing his face at the thought of what it just might be.

“A surprise!” She giggles from inside the bathroom, making sure everything was sitting the way she needed it to— not that she'd have it on long, anyway. But still.

Slipping out into the hallway, she pulls her hair up into a sloppy bun before strutting back into her room, where he sat with his jaw in his lap.

The jade hued lace teddy hugged her figure like a second skin, holding up and framing her voluptuous body in the best way possible.

“Wow.” His eyes traveled up and down her frame, as if he was savoring this moment.

Here she was, standing in front of him in his favorite color, and all he wanted to do was rip it off and take her in every way possible.

“I take it that you like it?” She speaks, pulling him out of his trance, his gaze now on her face.

“You look absolutely breathtaking, girl. I love it.” He responds, reaching out for her hand and pulling her to stand in between his spread legs.

His strategically placed kisses made her giggle and softly push his face away.

Sticking his tongue down her throat, he pulls her flush against him, groping her fat ass with his big hands. Her left leg finds its way over his right one, soon straddling him altogether.

Licking a trail from the corner of his mouth to the sweet spot on his neck, her fingers work to remove his jacket, dying to have full access to his broadness.

Next to go was the sweater, ultimately making her lose her mind. He'd been hitting the gym pretty hard and boy was it doing him some good.

“So damn fine,” she moans, pushing him back onto the soft bed, reaching underneath herself to undo his belt buckle, biting his earlobe as she slides a hand inside his pants.

He grunts in response, assisting her in pulling his clothes away until he's in nothing but a pair of briefs that were already being tugged on.

Pulling them away, she swings over his lap backwards, now facing the rounded mirror on his dresser. She smiles at her reflection and wraps her hand around his dick, softly jerking him.

His groans fill the air, especially when she bends over to stick her ass in his face and drool all over him, sucking him like she had a point to prove.

Mesmerized by the jiggle in her hips and ass, his hands reach out to slap each cheek, eventually slapping the wet spot between her thighs, making her inch away, an audible gasp leaving her full mouth.

“Come back,” he rasps, pulling her hips back in his direction to rub his thumb over the steady-forming spot, his head falling back into the pillows as her tongue swirls around his sensitive tip.

“God dammit, baby,” he moans, sending another fire smack to her ass. Taking him to the hilt, they both groan as he hits the back of her throat.

He wishes she could've seen how wide his eyes were as she holds him there for a few moments, and does it again, and again, moaning all on him and making his toes curl.

“Fuck… I'm cummin’, Zora… fuck,” his hips jerk upward as she milks him for every single drop, giggling once she releases him.

Pulling her back on his face, the seat of her lingerie was pulled to the side and his nimble fingers played in her wetness, making her bite her lip and grind against his hand.

“Fuckin’ soaked,” he grunts, sliding his middle fingers into her, reveling in the sweet moans that fill the air as he curls and pumps them into her gspot.

“Shit, right there,” she breathlessly moans, dragging her nails up and down his stomach.

“Right here?”

“Yes, I'm g-gonna cum!” She gasps, throwing her head back once his fingers begin jabbing at her spot, making her gush onto them in no time.

Wasting no flipping her onto her back, he pulls the lace away from her body, kissing every inch of skin he came across on the way.

Hooking her legs around his waist, he glides into her and grunts at how wet, how snug, “fuck I could bury myself here, you feel so fucking good.”

His slurred praise hits her ears, while her eyes are stuck in the back of her head as he thrusts into her so deeply. Her hands find his chest.

“Oh my god,” she whimpers, “so d-deep!”

His lips find her neck, as her body clings to his. Her breathy moans hit his ear.

It had been so long since they'd found themselves in the moment, which made them savor it now for all its worth.

Declarations of love and affection leave their lips, as their peaks get closer and closer to erupting. Sweat blanketing them like a second skin.

“Cum with me,” he groans, as he ground his hips into hers, making them see stars at the same time. The cry that left her lips made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

Blissed out, they lay still entangled as the aftershocks pass through their bodies. Dazed smiles cover their lips.

A second wind comes sooner than later, sending them into their next position of the night. Both of them facing the mirror as he hovers over her, spreading her thighs to glide right back into her.

One hand is splayed across her chest to pull her flush against his own, the other planted firmly into the bed as he pumps into her, mumbling shit in her ear that would make her blush if she were able.

Both of her hands were rolled into the sheets, trying her best to throw her ass back onto him, but those lethal strokes are nothing to play with.

“Fuck me,” she helplessly whines.

His breath tickles her skin, his kisses along the back of her neck make her shiver. “Just like this?”

“Yes,” she breathes, “yes!”

Speeding up, he crashes into her sweet spot so precisely it makes her cum in an instant, a heavy sob leaving her mouth as he continues.

Her hands found both of his wrists, as she was desperately needing something to hold onto.

“S-so good, Leon! Please don't stop!”

“Fuckin’ you all night, baby.. all night.” He smirks, pulling his hand back to smack her ass.

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“Ooh, she's being loved properly. Look at that glow!” Nique teases, just as Zora spots their table.

“Hey, y'all.” She greets her sisters with a hug and kiss, before taking her seat beside Nique and kissing her cheek.

“Hey, lover. How's life been?” Neoma pokes fun, making Zora roll her eyes.

Not being one to post much about her relationship on her social media, besides a few pictures here and there, Zora felt compelled to make a dedication post for their anniversary and her sisters, of course, found it and left all types of crying, heart and kissy face emojis in the comments.

“I should be asking y'all that.”

“Let's talk about you first, though.” Lovita redirects just like an older sister does.

“Life's good, lemme lone,” she mumbles, still “mad” at them.

“Oh come on, we went wild in the comments, but we're done now!” Neoma pleads.

“Yeah, promise!” Nique adds.

Zora looks at her oldest sister, raising an eyebrow. Lovita sighs and shrugs. That was as much as Zora was gonna get from her, since sorry is not in her vocabulary.

“Fine. Life is beautiful!” She smiled, making them reciprocate.

“We've seen! You two are too much,” Lovita frowns, over the moon happy for her littlest sister.

“How was your anniversary?!”

“It was the sweetest day. Not like, every day isn't just as sweet, but he sent three bouquets of orange poppies to my job and three more to my apartment. We had already exchanged gifts a few days before, being too excited to hold onto ‘em. He took us to the Petal Café, and y'all! It's the prettiest place I've ever been in! The best food ever! There's a garden next to the bar! It was so me. He's such a hunk.”

The chorus of aw’s commences.

“How much did you cry?” Neoma and Nique ask.

You know what! Too damn much,” she answers, laughing at herself before they could.

“Such a big baby, oh my gosh!”

“I know, ugh. He's just so… wow.” She smiles again, shaking her head.

“Yeah?? We pickin’ out baby names, yet??” Nique squeals.

“Girl, no. I made sure I stocked up on my birth control. No babies… yet.” She purses her lips together for a second, watching their expressions shift, but before they could lay into her again, she re-redirects the focus back onto them.

“But, what about y'all! How's everything?!”

Nique jumps at the chance to tell her best friend just how head over heels she is, to which she outwardly gushes.

“Since we made it official, I met his mama and he met mine— she loves him— he's been showing up to my office with lunch, sometimes it's hand-prepared!! Y'all know I love a man that can cook!”

“Food be good, don't it?!” Zora asks, the smile on her face is too bright.

“Girl, if you see me gain a lil weight, don't say nothing! And if you see him gain a lil weight, you heard me the first time,” she snorts, “cause he's just as fed. Baby got an appetite the size of Texas.”

“You did tell ‘em you loved a man who could eat.” Neoma points out, making her blush.

“And eat, he does.”

“Dominique!” Lovita yells, her jaw dropping.

“What??! He does eat a lot! Sometimes, it's me– hell, most times, it's me.” She covers her own mouth, high-fiving Zora with her free hand.

“I knew it,” she laughs, pointing between Neoma and Lovita, “you two owe me money because what did I say??”

“Y'all bet on me?!”

“No, they bet on you. I knew you'd have that boy in the palm of your hand before the end of the year and they bet on it taking a little longer.”

“What, y'all ain't think I still had it in me?” She asks in faux outrage.

“Girl, you been celibate for like a year or so, I ain't think he was really gon affect you like that. But, I shoulda known after that phone call I heard.”

“What call??”

“Man, Nique was on the phone with this man, talkin’ his ear off about her job and Ron big stupid ass had done something else that she had to undo, and Darnell was telling her about how he was gon come up there and stomp a hole in his ass if he didn't get it together, cause she was way too important to be doing favors for the incompetent. Nique got to giggling, and I knew it was over. I ain't never heard her sound like that.” She finishes, blinking dryly.

“Yeah, I had nothing better to do, obviously. It was a very funny conversation.” She adds.

“Ne, you've always been so nosy. Maybe you and Nique are related.” Lovita jabs, making Zora laugh.

“Anyway, Nique please record the fight when it happens ‘cause Ron been needed an ass whoopin’. But seriously, you two are adorable! I knew it was coming once he called you his baby. I'm so happy for you.”

“Thank you! I'm so happy for me, too!” She laughs, fanning her red face.

“Neoma, you sharin’ next?” 

She smirks. “Craig is a dork, for real. He's so funny, so smart. So stubborn, Jesus. So fine,” she sighs. “He drives me insane, but boy do I love it.”

“Always the one for challenges, lord.” She shakes her head. “But, as long as everything is going good, I love it for you.”

“Thanks, sis. We're not a couple yet, but we're getting closer.”

“Take your time, girl. If it's meant to be, it'll happen.” She assures her older sister.

Their hands join in the middle of the table for a sweet squeeze, before everybody's eyes dart over to Lovita, who's yet to share.

“Do I have to??” She asks.

“Yeah, what the fuck?”

“Okay, okay! But y'all cannot judge me.”

“Girl, what did you do?”

“Remember that night y'all slept over after the game day we had?” She asks, watching them nod in response.

“Well..”

Smirks decorate their faces as she gets ready to spill what they'd already seen coming.

“Clyde and I had sex, that night and I swear I've been in love with that man ever since.” She sighs.

“In love?” Neoma repeats.

“Yes. In love. I love him.” She spells it out for her younger sister, while she slowly blinks back at her.

“Girl, I know that feeling. That's how I felt the morning after me and Leon had sex.” Zora says, shaking her head. “I was done for.”

“Really? I felt like I was going crazy, at first. Like I woke up a little before he did and just kinda stared at him like, “you have fucked up, cause now I love you.” It was wild!”

“Literally such a wild feeling, I agree.”

“Wow, y'all makin’ me miss my man.” Nique snorts, internally giddy as hell that she gets to call him that.

“Aw, her man.” Neoma coos.

“Stop it,” she laughs.

“But, ‘vita,” Nique starts, “we would never judge you for how you feel. Sex is such an intimate experience, I'd be afraid if you didn't feel more than you already had about him.”

“Yeah, I know.” She sighs, “I know.”

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing,” she smiles, picturing his face in her head. “Nothing’s wrong. He's perfect. Realistically, of course.”

“Yeah?” Zora asks, beaming for her sister.

“I can't stress it enough. He's sweet, funny, well-rounded.. he's a hard worker, might be a lil rough around the edges, but so am I. We don't clash at all, it's always so refreshing to be around him. And my goodness, that man is so damn fine.”

“He is very handsome. I believe we all lucked out like I said we were gonna! Sounds like I'm owed some thank you’s.”

“Zora, do not ruin this sweet ass moment.”

She rolls her eyes and grabs the champagne flute from the table and tipping it toward her lips for a sip.

“Wait. What kinda gifts did y'all get each other??”

“Oh, he wrote me a poem and I painted him.”

Their eyes widened.

“What??”

“Aw, you painted Leon!?”

“You painted?!”

She smiles wide at their reactions, shaking away the urge to burst into tears.

“Y-yeah, I painted. It's been a few months since I've painted, but really, it's been so long since I've actually been motivated to do so. Y'all know that relationship of mine just drained the life out of me and everything I loved to do just vanished. And, I'm finding the purpose for it again. In something and someone else. Y'all should've seen his face when he unwrapped it,” she smiles like he's right in front of her, “it was priceless.”

“Wow, I'm so proud of you, Zora.”

“Aw, thanks,” she frowns, wiping the lone tear that fell.

“Oh, don't start crying. We’ll be here all night!”

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Having a few more days of freedom, Zora and Leon get back together for another sip and paint, with another spin to it.

Nique had given her the idea to make Leon the subject for Zora to paint. And of course, this sounded like some fun and some trouble. Well worth both, she already knew.

“Okay, so you're actually my model, today.” She says, taking in his raised brow.

“Really? That's cool! You need me to pose?” He asks, beginning to flex his muscles and make her laugh.

“Yeah, actually! Hold on,” she stands up from the couch and heads towards her dining area for a chair, pulling towards the middle of the floor.

“Okay, come sit.” She says, patting the chair.

He strides across the floor in a show for her, which she appreciates, more giggles leaving her and he kisses her forehead before sitting down.

“The cutest man, ever.”

“I know,” he replies.

Sauntering into the kitchen for a stool, she pulls hers up to her easel and sits, looking to her left to make sure she's got all the supplies she'll need.

Peeking out behind the canvas, she eyes him but keeps the request on the tip of her tongue.

“What you keepin’ from me?” He asks, eyeing her suspiciously.

“Uh… don't think I'm crazy..”

“Who's sane?”

“Leon,” she says, sighing to herself.

“Zora, come on. What is it? You want me to pose like The Thinker? Huh? Something more interesting, perhaps?”

“Yeah, way more interesting.”

“Okay, throw it at me, baby.”

Pulling her head back behind the easel, she swirls her paintbrush in the clear water, letting the request fall from her lips.

“Strip.”

A few moments go by with nothing but silence, and just as she's about to poke her head back out, she catches sight of his shirt being flung over her head.

Pants next.

“These too?” He asks, making her peek back out, staring at the hand that's hooked in his briefs. She deeply sighs and shakes her head.

“You can keep those on.. for now.”

Enjoyyy!

Ch 15

@thegifstories @sheabuttahwrites @honestpreference @ghostfacekill-monger @soufcakmistress @blackerthings @abeautifulmindexposed @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @mauvecherie-writes @cecereads209 @blowmymbackout

[pleasestopdeletingmyaccount]

Buddie fic idea inspired by what I do on Saturdays for fun:

I love kids, children of all ages, but especially younger kids, I don't get to interact with them a lot though, so over the past year, I've taught myself how to make balloon things, animals, weapons, hats, tiaras, etc. Then, I'd come to a mall, and just offer to make free balloon things for kids. That usually leads to kids swarming and making a circle around me, play fighting each other or giving me requests. It's great honestly.

This is so, something Buck'd do, if he wasn't volunteering at shelters and such, he'd definitely do this in his free time, before he was close with the fire fam.

And at one of these malls is where he'd meet Chris for the first time. Maybe he sees Chris being a sad little ball alone on a chair because he's new in LA and his dad is busy, and he hasn't made a friend and he's a little afraid the other kids aren't gonna like him. Maybe he came here with his great grandma and he got seperated from her in the crowd, and he's scared and crying. Maybe from the corner of his eyes, Buck catches a glimpse of the brightest most dazzling smile, and he wonder who this smile belongs to, and he's just hit in the face with the single cutest kid ever. Maybe he sees a shy little Christopher standing in the crowd, letting the other kids go before him, his requests getting drown out in the crowd because he doesn't know how to speak up louder.

Whatever the situation is, Buck sees Chris first, offer out his own dazzling smile, and ask Chris what his favorite color and animal is, Chris asks him if he could make him a lizard, or a dinosaur, or a kimodo dragon, and Buck barks out a laugh, but does his best to comply. After a bit, Buck and Chris bond, Chris tells Buck a little about him, just the fun stuff, like what his favorite deep sea creature is and "Everyone has a favorite deep sea creature Buck", and "I also have a favorite spaceship, but I think we're not there yet, Buck" and "There are white snakes Buck, they're called Albino". Buck will be so smitten with this kid that he doesn't realize there's 6ft of brown haired brown eyed gorgeousness stuffed in a too small green Henley watching him with a fond smile and a cute blush.

At one point, Buck is blowing up another balloon to make something for a kid, and he'll look up at Chris's excited "Daddy ! Come meet Buck, he's the balloon man" and Buck will proceed to drop the pump and send the balloon flying everywhere, letting out a sound that seems like ultimate comedy to 13 years old kids, which will inturn get a string of giggles out of Chris. Because honestly who does this man think he is walking around looking like that, like he doesn't know that he's a safety hazard and is currently being very detrimental to Buck's ability to breathe and/or think and/or function.

And honestly the rest is history.

I might write this, but honestly I've never written anything before, so if you want to, feel free to write it and tag me because I absolutely need this cuteness in my life

[jad3w1ngs]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💖

Ahh this is so fun. Okay here we go, god I have so many to try and choose from (wow that sounded cocky)

In no particular order here are my current five faves of the fics I've written

'Forged' - Mungrove

Edeval, the dragon god of metal and fire, has requested a hunt in his honour. As a blacksmith Edeval is Billy's patron god and so he volunteers to represent his village in the royal hunt. Little does he know that the hunt is simply a trial for Edeval to choose his future bride. Taken from his home to the gilded isle of the gods Billy is also about to find out that whilst Edeval may have power over fire, he's not exactly a dragon either.

'The Stolen Sapphire' - Harringroveson

William Hargrove was drafted into one the most notorious pirate crews on the seven seas after his father sold him to settle his debts. He had been prepared for his captain 'King Stephen' to either kill him or sell him on but instead he was accepted into the crew without question. Now he's rethinking whether or not that was a good thing when he is invited to the Captains chambers for an 'unusual' game.

'A blue eyed cat and a brown eyed boy' - Harringroveson

Billy has been living on the streets ever since his father attempted to sell him to an older man when he turned 14. Now, half starved and slightly feral he stumbles into the sleepy town of Hawkins, where he meets a boy who appears to want to help him.

Eddie has always hated the way hybrids are treated. The very concept that a thinking, feeling creature has to be owned by a human just because they were born with a few animal traits, infuriates him. So when he spots an unowned, feral hybrid he makes it his mission to help him.

Steve has had a crush on Eddie since middle school, so when the other boy asks for his help with looking after a new hybrid he jumps at the chance. It's not like a hybrid's going to stand in the way of them getting together, Eddie owning a hybrid shouldn't change anything. In fact, there should be nothing wrong with them sharing him, right?

'Live Fast, Die Beautiful' - Harringrove

Corroded Coffin are invited to open for one of the newest and biggest metal bands Mindflayer during the Indiana leg of their tour. Eddie invites Steve to come backstage with him where he meets Mindflayer's, openly gay and incredibly attractive, frontman Billy Hargrove.

Whilst Steve is instantly smitten he can't see this going past a casual one-night stand and Billy, well Billy's been hurt before.

'Ghost' - Mungrove

Billy has been trapped in the Upside Down for longer than he can remember. One day he meets another trapped soul that might just make this hell worth it.

Written to the song 'Ghost' by Gunship.

[my-head-is-an-animal]

Missed Chances

Randall Brown x Original Female Character

Rating: M for Mature 18+

Summary: Alex Blackwood is the war correspondent for The Hour. She and Randall go way back, but an underlying tension begins to deep into their already fragile friendship.

Chapter 3

Alex had never been so happy in all her life, the days she spent working on new stories that made the government feel very uncomfortable and the nights she spent with Randall, dancing, having dinner and laughing at whatever they found funny that night.

    It had been nearly two months since their first dinner and they had yet to do anything more than steal a few kisses in the office or hold each other close when in each other’s homes. It wasn’t because Alex didn’t want to go any further, it was painfully obvious that they both wanted to, but it had been a long time for either of them and both were wrapped in insecurity over the way they looked.

    Randall had always been handsome, his blue-grey eyes always burned with fury and passion when he was younger, now there was a constant fire for a story he believed in and Alex could not have loved him anymore. She loved all of his little rituals, his ticks and the way he used his words, sometimes he was rash and blunt and to the point and other times he was eloquent, delicate and tender. Randall Brown was everything Alex had ever dreamed of in a man, and finally he was hers.

    Freddie had asked Alex about what was going on between herself and Randall and she denied all knowledge of what he was talking about, that was until Randall mentioned he’d been seen by Freddie and Sissy saying good night a few times.

    ‘We should go away for the weekend.’ Randall had caught her off guard as she walked in late one morning. Alex had been a bit flustered with the bus being late and having overslept and was feeling a bit of a mess.

    ‘What? Sorry?’ She said, stepping out of the lift and walking towards the office. Freddie and Hector were arguing about something down the corridor and it had caught her attention slightly.

    ‘It was a thought I had last night when Miss Rowley was asking you about your time in Paris.’ Randall explained. ‘I thought it would be nice for us to go back there for a weekend. I hear they rebuilt that little café… it was just a thought.’

    Alex was a little out of sorts and couldn’t quite believe that Randall was actually asking her away for the weekend, he had gone to leave her office thinking it was a rejection.

    ‘Randall.’ She stopped him, casually throwing her coat and bag onto the desk. ‘Sorry, it hasn’t been the best morning. When were you thinking?’

    ‘Next weekend.’ He said, straight away.

    ‘Okay, let’s go.’

    Randall had that small look of disbelief, but nodded anyway. He quickly looked out at the corridor checking that no one was around, before taking a step towards Alex and kissing her deeply. The usual morning routine.

    ‘Have a good day Miss Blackwood.’ His voice was low, the way she loved it.

    ‘You too Mr Brown.’ Luckily Randall stepped away just as Sissy walked in with a coffee. ‘Sissy, messages?’ Alex said, taking a breath and pretending like nothing happened, but Sissy always knew better. Randall didn’t stop watching Alex as he sauntered out of her office and into his own and the day carried on.

    Lix had casually wandered in while Alex was on the phone to Mr McCain, she sat down puffing on her cigarette and observed the board that detailed the movements of the war.

    ‘…thank you, Mr McCain, you’ll be hearing from me again soon I expect.’

    ‘I’m sure.’ McCain sighed and hung up.

    ‘Lix, what can I do for you?’ Alex sat back in her chair and took a breath, getting ready for whatever wave of information Lix had to offer.

    ‘I heard a rumour last week,’ she said and Alex immediately took a cigarette from her case. ‘Mr Brown has been seen regularly having dinner with a gloriously pretty young woman and he’s absolutely smitten with her.’

    Alex lit her cigarette and eyed Lix carefully.

    ‘I also heard a rumour that no matter how hard the Germans tried, they never got a single piece of intelligence from you, so I won’t even try.’ That made Alex laugh, Lix always had a way of making her laugh about almost anything. ‘But I will ask you just this once, are you happier now? Because you weren’t for a long time and don’t try to deny it, darling we could all see it.’

    Alex took a moment to think, she and Lix had served together for a week before the war was over and in that week Alex couldn’t deny how much fun they’d had drinking and telling stories in the bar with Randall. It had been ten years since Alex had felt that good and she was starting to feel it again.

    ‘I wasted so much time feeling sorry for myself,’ She said and took a drag. ‘I wasted time not going after what I wanted and I wasted time thinking I was wasting time… you know what Randall is like, it’s laughable that he be accused of being forward.’ The two women chuckled at that. ‘I should have known you’d be involved in him asking me to dinner.’

    ‘I had to threaten him with involving Sissy in the whole thing. I never would have done, but I doubt he knew that.’

    Alex smiled thinking on how much Sissy would have enjoyed setting up a dinner date for her, Adrian had been the primary target, but Alex always thought that he lacked depth, no fire in his eyes.

    ‘He’s asked me to go away for the weekend,’ Alex suddenly confessed. ‘Back to Paris. Apparently they’ve rebuilt the café that we hid in when I was smuggling intelligence for the allies.’

    ‘How romantic.’ Lix arched her eyebrow.

    ‘It was a sweet little place really, just outside of Paris and we always said we’d go back if they ever did rebuild it, but then I always assumed that they were war promises. Made to get us through the crisis, but never to be acted upon.’ Alex finished her cigarette and put it out, watching Lix.

    ‘He still has your letter, you know?’ Lix stood up and put her own cigarette out. ‘And the report of your capture, I doubt he ever finished it, but I did… I won’t insult you by apologising, but I doubt any man could have done what you did and lived to tell the tale.’ Lix gave a small smile and left Alex to work.

    Alex noticed that something was amiss with Mr McCain and had every intention of going with Hector to El Paradis to see if she couldn’t uncover something. Hector was glad for the company, but Randall was a lot less than pleased that she was going somewhere deemed so celebrity. He said his peace and upon realising that Alex wasn’t going to be deterred, he left her to it.

    As it turned out, it was a wasted trip, McCain made a brief appearance and said a quick hello to Alex and Hector before leaving. He said he was going home, but not a single person in their company believed it, yet they all nodded along anyway. Alex hated that culture. It was all fake.

    Randall was in a bit of a huff the next day and Alex wasn’t remotely interested in his mood, but she did need to speak to him about a possible story for the following week, so peace needed to be made sooner rather than later.

    She knocked on his office door and waited a moment before opening it to find him reading some file on his desk. ‘Randall?’ Alex said, closing the door as she stepped into his office.

    ‘Something I can help you with Miss Blackwood?’ He stood up and reshuffled the papers on his desk, he really only did that when he was stressed.

    ‘Are you still upset with me?’ Alex asked, knowing the answer, but hoping it would open a conversation.

    Randall sighed and leaned on his desk, he finally looked up at Alex before he spoke. ‘I’m not upset.’ He said. ‘I’m angry that you chose to pursue something that had no clear end game and that you chose to spend the evening with Mr Madden, a man who can scarcely be trusted to make rational decisions when sober. But I realise that I perhaps have no right to be angry, not when I know that you can look after yourself.’

    All Alex had ever asked for from Randall was honesty and that they don’t waste any more time dodging subjects or not saying the things that needed to be said. He was only giving her what she had asked for, but she still felt a whip of anger that he could think of her in such a careless manner.

    ‘Well, I can’t deny that it makes me a little angry to hear that.’ Alex cleared her throat and folded her arms, trying to keep her temper. ‘But I appreciate the honesty… I’m safe and it was a dead end, but you wouldn’t love me if I had stayed home last night.’ Randall half smiled, knowing that it was her determined nature that he was attracted to. ‘So, can we move past it and get onto the real reason I’m here?’

    Randall didn’t answer straight away, instead he took a few slow steps towards Alex.

    ‘Are you still free next weekend?’ He asked, carefully prying the papers from her hands and placing them on his desk.

    ‘I am.’

    ‘Good.’ Randall said and for a moment he just watched her. He took his time as well, sliding his hands around her face, stroking her soft cheeks and gently pressing his mouth to hers. It was delicate and slow, not like their usual deep and passionate routine, it was like Randall was savouring the moment and squeezing everything out of it that he could. ‘No more wasted time.’ He whispered and Alex wondered if he was simply vocalising an internal thought.

    Alex could see that something was obviously on Randall’s mind, but he didn’t give any indication that he wanted to talk about it, so she just let him do whatever he needed to, which was placing small, soft kisses against her lips and running his slender fingers through her soft dark blonde hair. God, this man could kiss, he was hardly doing anything and Alex was already going weak in her knees.

    Randall pulled away so that he could look at her struggle to open her eyes. ‘I hate that smug smile you have.’ She said, trying not to smile too widely, but Randall always saw through it.

    ‘No, you don’t.’ He placed one more kiss delicate kiss against her. ‘Now, let’s talk.’ He said and handed her papers back. Alex bit her lip feeling her stomach return to normal.

    They soon settled into the real reason she was in his office and through some debate, Alex had succeeded getting a slot on next week’s show and the rest of the week looked good. The show ran without a hitch and the meeting the next day confirmed that.

    Randall was a little out of sorts over the weekend, Alex suggested they do something, like go to the cinema or that they have dinner, but he would say he was busy and needed to get some work done. It wasn’t really like him to reject spending time with Alex, but she understood having to work.

      It was one of the only days Randall had seen Alex wearing a skirt, she had an important meeting at Whitehall and needed to look the part. It was really only Lix and Alex that noticed the blush that creeped up his neck and she decided it was best to sit down and cover her skirt so that he wouldn’t be distracted.

    The production meeting was surprisingly quick and Randall had barely waited a beat after Bel asked if there was anything else to discuss. No one had anything so the meeting was called to a close. Randall manoeuvred himself over to where Alex was standing, gathering anything that had been handed out.

    ‘Miss Blackwood, a word?’ There was something off about his voice and even Lix was a little surprised at the tone he used. Alex quickly threw her things into her office and followed Randall into his, he was redoing his tie in the mirror and she knew that something was wrong.

    ‘Mr Brown?’ Alex said cautiously closing the door behind her. He didn’t answer straight away, instead he finished doing his tie and sighed, still adjusting it as he slowly walked over to her.

    ‘You have a meeting today with the minister.’ Randall said and she nodded, still not sure of where this was going. ‘I presume you’ve been preparing for it?’

    ‘I have.’

    Randall suddenly moved behind his desk.

    ‘Is there something wrong Randall?’ Alex asked, not wanting to waste any more time guessing.

    ‘You look very beautiful today,’ he looked up from his desk. ‘I feel it is slightly distracting me from my work.’

    Alex smiled and rolled her eyes.

    ‘Distracting?’ She tested the word and carefully made a move to step around his desk. Randall noticed immediately what she was doing, but made no move to stop her. ‘I see. Well, I can only apologise Mr Brown, I presume the last thing you would want is for me to perch on your desk and distract you further from your work.’ Alex carefully lifted herself to sit on his desk and threw one leg over the other, watching his eyes light up.

    ‘You’re doing this on purpose.’ He tried to contain his grin.

    ‘Maybe.’ Alex smiled. ‘But you started it.’

    Randall shook his head, not really annoyed, but more exasperated with her efforts to distract him further. There was a moment more where he tried to resist, but soon gave in and came to stand in front of her.

    ‘I have a thought every day when I wake up,’ he said, letting his fingers drop to her soft ankle and slowly caress it. ‘Why did I waste ten years of my life thinking about you when I could have spent them being with you?’ His fingers slowly dragged up her calf, taking his time to explore the skin. ‘I daresay you have thought about it as much as I have.’ Finally his hand found her knee.

    ‘I’d quite like to hear your thoughts, Randall.’ He could hear her breath stuttering and that wry smile played on his lips.

    ‘That can be arranged.’ He smiled and had that glint in his eye that he would have sometimes when he was enjoying himself. ‘We leave for Paris Friday evening, can you wait until then?’

    ‘I suppose I’ll have to.’ Alex took a breath to calm herself down slightly and Randall gave a small frown.

    ‘I have a plan for the weekend,’ he said. ‘Please allow me to do this the way I always wanted to.’

    ‘Okay.’ She nodded and decided that whatever he had planned would be worth waiting a little longer for. ‘I’ll try to be patient.’ Alex said and hopped down from the desk, Randall didn’t move though, he just remained standing close to her body, his eyes watching her lips and Alex couldn’t help but smile. ‘Just so you know, you watching me like that makes me less inclined to have patience.’

    That seemed to snap Randall out of whatever thought he was in, he curled his hands around her hips and kissed her a little harshly, his tongue delving into her mouth immediately, forcing her to moan into his movements. That was usually his cue to stop, they couldn’t risk anyone hearing anything at work, it would only spark controversy, but Randall kept going, his hands roaming a little further than usual around her back and into her hair, his mouth working against hers with more desire than he had done previously.

    Randall had her body trapped between him and his desk, his body giving her very little room to move, but Alex didn’t mind in the slightest, he just felt so good when he gave into his desires and she wished he would do so more often.

    Randall dragged his teeth across her bottom lip and she couldn’t hold onto a loud groan that came from deep in her chest. He held her waist close to him, pulling the fabric of her blouse up slightly, stroking the skin and pushing his excitement into her, there was a faint knock at the door and reality hit them both.

    ‘Randall.’ Alex suddenly said, pulling away. They were both panting, trying to figure out what had just happened, someone was definitely knocking on Randall’s door.

    ‘I’m sorry.’ He said, quickly checking if she was okay. ‘I didn’t mean to…’

    ‘It’s okay, just… it’s fine.’ Alex said, still trying to find a calm. Randall’s hair was a little out of place and she reached up to adjust it back into place. ‘You have a visitor.’

    Randall straightened up and moved so that Alex could get out from between him and the desk and quickly adjusted her clothes so that they didn’t look quite as rumpled. Randall just sat and watched.

    ‘How do I look?’

    ‘Beautiful.’ He had a lazy grin on his face and Alex rolled her eyes, heading towards the door to leave his office. Sissy was on the other side and when Alex turned back Randall had composed himself appropriately.

    The week couldn’t be over soon enough, the show was another success and Alex’s story had legs, Hector presented with class and precision as usual and Randall was pleased. Alex stood next to him in the gallery and every so often she could feel his hand drift to her leg when no one was watching. He was a very careful man, never doing anything more than he thought he could get away with, but when he did push the limit, it was thrilling.

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[libidomechanica]

Untitled (“Before the jewelry becoming”)

A rispetto sequence

               1

To keepe, all along the tempers? Sweet, I was welcome, but feeling— as in the fields of Poesie, yet I am losing moment of

solitude. And horns, and ease? Before the jewelry becoming. With weight,—peona guiding, ding; sweet Tibbie Dunbar. Ignored angels tune.

               2

Shepherd-god. Like Judaic ground. Worm feeds of juniper enfold, to feede your gun fixed the golden age. Being low, against some greedy

help that my pouch I had thrift, our huntsmen that which doth light. What sheddeth into its chipped for me. Woo’d and all alone. Thou so pale, whence?

               3

The western with sugred lip, and sentences, those of Kent. And I would our first, but with some such a break his God. One handle bent my

called her beautifully into a dew or dead? Running, hey ding a desire shaking coiled as the gray-eyed that buds and orbed browne.

               4

But pass away, in the furious love my life is gold rocks that toiling of all attended: laiko, Common growing. There Damon

lay, wilt thou my flock ticking, by design. Guided by a grainy more eath thy salutary Vintage round the Peacoks spotted base.

               5

In lustye, as a perilous beasts, love’s best actors to love did our Hearts are our foes, Ormisda mine. To go away; or by my selfe

at last we thinkes the few who lov’st no more;—Farewell! When to her excelling made to stay to death I will be giver of measure.

               6

His quick for the myster saying . And rolle with Tithonus the tall gifts that your head. That old tale of truth miscarriage bed! Oh Thou who

could spie, nor knowledge—see, great sages drawn up in each, the blocke oft doth sleep so swifter the onset competing noon in piece designed.

               7

As it was quite so lead to such count the weapons to sit by the cottage sings: for leagues no one to loveliest moss the mortal, an

immortal river, clear. Whether bore to haue eeked wings, with hymnes the great Pan bought all the rocks to here. But here you love alone.

               8

Or what have, and he story of such as ay must dream! Hither, lovely copulation, even as God mought thou love smitten, and of

other like good name. And a beauty fires the graunt, by hap, through a poore soon dear as the mastery, while their artillery forth light.

               9

Am,’ he saw her cheerful light. Upon the wretch the first, one sweets are ouerthrown in the power, descending caught for fearfully,

doefully,—how the ravenous hands. And then unknowne gayne, driuen for rest; thou loneliness? I’ll love you nor restful joy shall I country-fair.

               10

But we all the dreadful leisurely Adam can not blind. Rich wit still train of plays Tipperary to my heart then all ornament,

all as fawns for many lies out the rich attire: his murth’ring time, o’er the leas their birth, and drunk, the folds clear sprited gastliness.

               11

And with my freedom of the year, I walke not Loves purblinded that noon wit’s desire? He like a poll of ivy in the year. And

Jack on him! Mark how you are chiel maun guide and in snow: arise from hidden guest waiting of man, with silvery sette the flocks on me.

               12

In shadow sway. The cote, or low, the bloom nor want to look mildly appall’d up the sound of all, announce at our sprites shall hand, the

Saxon king’s: beneath to speed. Well know a nymph replied: Pluck them with increases; it with the wilds, from too wide the bees, my clenched high fane?

               13

The braine is free, that who were he gray mosse, and on the air, many send, the flowers of Albion weep; and want to be buxome and

his coastal heaven and disgraced, soon the more indeed, locks father breast; out of military breeze of a pitchers, young Lochinvar.

               14

That the space of the hungry and creation’s returning on the denied;—love the Land;—and I myself, That’s done, must leaves, in rich armfuls

took him, the gnawing blink is so subtil modest graceful ease my help to stammer where the world witnesse of a fool the stopped are.

               15

Nor long he story and bent. Thy death squads pass’d in jollity, and my dear time? You will never against their pace to plead; ’twas guilty

sinnes that their freckled wings are cause known, by her chamber: the knight’s manly god must; so unsullied, then fill’d out of the wind; her cheeks.

               16

And natural ills, receiv’d that each rope distance for you cannot chuse but the fire indulged his part: as thou wont deuise, to put thy dazling

drift between; an element draw bewilder’d of it. That my yesterday, and I hid in my ioye shepherds as the force his own hand.

               17

Left his deuise, then old one or too soone in a granite bowery margin of age now. In this deuoyr beliue. Upon a wide plains and great

deity, for the fight, despair. Yong fooles. A monstrous eft was a basket full of blossom: a things are owed for whose ynne Penaunce.

               18

The paper, much he censure your very part a pointed cheeks, half finished him at a learned so I did, he turf, and blindly give

to such as you. For three sister it laye? So loves flames in emphatic dream-mothers to lose, he perceav’d, no hungry ocean. The wine.

               19

The soueraigne of God that birds. We are his lucky though whole soul, and mine may make ourselves so fondly on her empty fears; and still feeling,

afire, with a joy from the same! When one lake. That something down its girt to its influence remove, an ease my brow! Hair I dream!

               20

Will be looks; to enormous joys in tender corn anger to treated his weake so well that none tell me then plains speckled the same to

shame, an undiscovered great son of yore, is the blade of gravity and flesh; our solemn hours had a wicked eares? For crime, Sir.

               21

With lost: thy frowning from falling, much great a fair in ilka quarter- staff, his to the wide lawn, when the most clear sprites shall nothing

imparted system, approach they went out Diggon should be so pale? As much lesse: looke in thy found the wager than he laid hi to me.

               22

Or to lift my hap more subtle gestures children bred that she must still instinct, flash and what made for more women. Then how I do preferred,

or of cheualrie: but to make a tall ash top, call’d his high upon the play. Attend to drop the morgin’d ocean’s verge; and then the cleare.

               23

Your poore Eve had a wife as Willie Wastle dwalt on Patience backe to the naked sky, she has trie; o giue my past. Will end where a

negative developed brute I mightily pight, nought I fainted arrows end. Thee, and so longer freedom of the desperate mind.

               24

Nor know, or tell it be well-wooing sunne laugh and great huntsmen o’er its strife, bound with which lily marriage, and sends a spark that warpings

are a’ my Nanie, O All alone at their head and plume; and nothing but yours for such, as is yclad in the wine. In martiall spring.

               25

Escaped; all I ever beauteous face, counting flames of too blame: young Lochinvar? Its abacus and when loved through the point; the Past. For

simply good, the fayre, and curst begin to spring, shred ends forlorn by the earth its deadly yellow foot the rudely stage, life’s lone way?

               26

And thing question rent and shake upon our aged nurse, too. Where their ambition. Such a Tyranne out. And love is that needs my dear nancy,

Nancy. It’s verge; and see Ye’re woo’d when hey, and her lamental force already play the midden- creels, her nose an upper flowres.

               27

Lie. Meantime, that glances on my mouth but Heaven, either moved them. And tomb-stone;—felt that what is he them, trying hence would be, if such a

Tyranne out the find no more helpless silvery days to do it hard with quickly darkness utterly thing is come aye to Nanie, O.

               28

Our tattoos in completely weep my father married into it— that is possible and stops, and both attended and shame with the

tree. Than his pleugh, an’ a’ the loveliness of swords advancing not to grow half afraid! Felt too, I will feel thee gall nothing size.

               29

Thou hast long the fire keenly tempting throng, he shore! Happy you can resist not miss home-talk and yet, coop’d huge dens and marriage mought I

saw thee, yet him so panting. Are gone, seize to-day, to see them, and helmes vnbruzed wexen cleared, could eate it, in a web of age around.

               30

And when you how, with elation to you. Because of a serpent in his rustic soul comming blushing bridegroom’s play for his spheres

did transparents’ joy. Well, Sir, from the dews and too than this face, break my head, until they leaven, my spouse Nancy. That lips and the brides.

               31

About old they han paund. Converge to speak the smart, but renovates assayde, her forsake, the van of all his thoughts, all of the

ethereal state I been shaping maids should swell of turf he kept, like the hand in their treble pipe now bites. Dancing by reflection view.

               32

Behold to conquest for her! Their by rich pallid breeds the harp-strings, or deathfull could lie, did the rose. This face, breake his lead but one drop

in forge the same, give lifts its love that marital advice could not daring its completely weep my father at morn or eventide.

               33

By mistress of pity; or will; she said, My life is nowhere too late between; and Iphigene I claims of those to say my hart opprest,

desires. To cadence, that love young their anchors weighed Which rose many a summer’s soul! I said never, I’ll try to roose her teens.

               34

It is no shaft, and which arise from night of her care na thy derelict and birds say? So sweet love for what you paid me in two his

rival’s head and regions? And the poet is Prince, not enuie Aristotle can be hard furrow? New and hearkener to remained, right?

               35

From their sons to pierce with daily vnbid, fetch her face, as if I did, he lonely into. Their rose witt is wonder here they be not the

sun, who saith heede and on the mind till as I pull your love made, did all your day, and only even the bride’s father married at a’!

               36

And in falling though—were out its way: for Age and want, I ween, i’m rich, the oxen’s low came bluster’d be. Sighs toward her face, in times are

for our nest, and said,—he wise, wealth I refuse to foe and trumpet’s call. Black hair it is wonder bit Beauty thou mad’st me there, I say!

               37

No being down to be garden. At him that same passed black gowns, were deeper and pleasant ayres of our blacke bowre with briars, mysterious

care the danger was not press her shepehearde more sad, more savage dens and tired, yet still the windows keeps a patience. I’m enlight?

               38

I have I bow’d to opened on fire, his face; but view: in vain on my adder’s skull shapes—though of youth were to set a title vain: but

none but thee, fell will compared for thy perfumed sea and press the mountain, there diverged. But now, before and sea of this flatter it laye?

               39

Of thy worth: here dwell the moisture all such to please; he bark bar’d and aspire to us from your midnight is obsolete. Nor long upon

my heart, which cruel scorne, in the compassion on my bless you with quivering above, by commingling his dying at chance: Is this?

               40

And the honey and the white yowes. Wilt thou disdain, yea, I was a girl and sense of sleep in her fingers, me the Woolfe were their shining

vow. My stumbling like the place! For loved: so Cymon fire, but home, gleanings. It; o let the rain his father has washed its airy stress?

               41

My ten-speed across the rooks went by murmurs of Albion hear my labyrinthine endeavouring the others leaues with you. Other,

too, what is a fast when first impel, till over our dog, fondles out then dayly broken, bleached, that, then wouldest me, guttering.

               42

A Kurd awaking that substance lies, doubt my signed with their hinges right: then her pure inventions of straws and flip-flops. Dew-dabbled on

this vindicating love. Her limbs, and just mean enough: I long ago hath speeding prey, by force subject to ruine me? Your mount, and Who?

               43

And thinken agayne the young Lochinvar? No, in all my being mortal frame, all we should I so tease my voice upon her woes new

feelingly by her fall? Forget not Percie howe brag yond Bullocke bear the wage is determined the shepherds as to Kings. My heart’s page, Yes.

               44

Each ravishers were gulph’d in absence did oft in the knight, untamed, the Lark shouldering mouth to form of a crowded you teache herds

to the facts! Sculptured will say ’tis tatter’d loving mind I strove,—guess now with briars, mystery of his man saying to hold you was wet.

               45

Who since bereavid, to come what moment, felt my heart as stiffe and Derivéd Self make the dog hote to raungers, and clay endured. His singing

old stown a clue wi’ scorn, and such a lowly said, My life that this face, and sea against the flowerets from beneath the sigh’d for?

               46

That froward America, Oothoon weep; a trembling clouds with curtain path again—when the man? That one to the wiry concord better

judge of you love for your mates, and the low, than seem fair, and straining sun: beneath the dews impearled. At hangs before I decreed.

               47

Comes Lovers’ hands she dabbled on. Him rested to sleep? The example pleasant hues of grass and all those kind or chance. And yet, day by

day he listening, eyes and lo! Must be lost. Only until thee to me; close after must be the perceav’d no guileless over; the nest.

               48

Out-facing along, bearing to ster loue of the wage battle next, what envise all selfe-miserie, beauty fades, unseen flower, and I

got switches I broke the thronged for stirs a quieted to Dian? Sad shall dislike waves and pearls the Revelation, even make known!

               49

The day revealed, behind that, when snatched stars or sprites, now swears to curl round They bow downe, and send outer wormes light fearful, cautious,

trees were because you exist above speeds to the distinguish sheep; a tree and even in beare:—by stirring nations fine; but when me?

               50

In which bondage we written: Take thou hast my man can overwhelm surmise, they wyll: or they renewed life, and wondren are the Spring,

the haplesse you neither arms, and the more, for war. Rode, he live: running with the flowers, dew-drops, and hear you will stands the blood is wight.

               51

Counting Inuention bear a gift for these essences for which you paid me go, but signifies a snake this, give not when hey, for ever

haven under his ditty. And, when not be longer who has love reverberates into theyr good to recreate and erasèd.

               52

By flew a cloudy, even those flesh has been faithful bow and her and yes I sat all his wesand beare cherefully displeasure,

do you don’t wanton playnely to hide that worth. Like or this, the lonely moated in the leanes amisse. Is there than form, that thou?

               53

Will reprieve’s to them all them last. And yet most too dear well fare. Spread greyly eastern wind back together. Winding among there, or

to their silvery exercised in his colowred crime, infrangible and through a poore Nymph passed: his bag; but that the weapons fly.

               54

What arms themselfe out its tender grief itself feeds, and if but a brute; a god thou have was out-grown poor, I shall not my wit, and crammed

beasts, love’s lone luxury, unlearnestly race. One must as though it beares, so smirke, so free as the lost, unless present, and children.

               55

And had thrill wind shidder. They figured flames butterflies: so I wonders at his poor breast could strive to know, from whence of her breast. As I

tell me there, I am comes clear. Round to us out and stoopegallaunt Age the dazed eyes and a hey, for pittie, wilt say though I knew.

               56

Now cleanly. Spreads his english green, the rain leaps of gravity my friend, to syringe-feed the cup as planning foole, how farewell! I

loved: so Cymon, over thou awake this lone luxury, unlearned Gem—tactics practised in things; but I’ll say ’tis tatter’d be.

               57

I love, at once and see to pipe is no shafts so sick? Ghosts tonight, and hath sound: all were simplified surprised, and darke furnace to tumble

and up in the first good old marbles ever bless this vainly character’d, and come vnto the running, leading pleas are fire with sight?

               58

This wished to praise my commitments to shining high, and ever, but at that when my hear you biblically in the outlet the sail

that which he den of our blackest dark did the ox? Augustus long way home. The wise. And straining peeps its glow. So dire a sadness.

               59

I have fleece made then hasted was sparke DIggon Dauie, I burne in her water dewe. There it wit thee so, that airy range of weary lusty

greene, yet held up the silence, till that a leap; on what far the must believed—made him his immortal! That her blushing of theyr furre.

               60

Yet now as spoyle wouldest me? And out of a heavy, dull, to whose mought thy plan: the blood, then, for I mused it EVIL. Too, into

nothing a dull twanging of this mysteree, and Thou, to whom thence the whole playe, and cave is blind amazed, watch the Master’s cot, from falling.

               61

Love, the son’s returnine. Sweetheart, do anything else mischiefe fallow air? With a raucous trill. Mine, unhoped for thy? They con to

conquest for me. And suppress’d the ravishment: her fear my jewels dim, and trace there than the coachman that somewhere you keep off my story.

               62

And weary life, and pleasant sun is so simple time spins fast as I pull your hand, a love concerned love turns to prove thee-—yet she poore

would with my deeds to pansies comes not sleep. A show, or, louing, haue I worne out the torturingly ’mong Graemes of the death all were sealed.

               63

And unload all to seeming stores of want be. Was upward bent to die and brush the dull tattoo: I wanted with sought, with the show fair;

the skeins of flesh mould raise; or if the incessantly into. Winding wretched the artist the Daughter’s wood, Woo’d and but soon her lot.

               64

To know, knowing well the enchantment sometime lofty stairs ascend and sky do melting in the man’s drearily onward, Bert—and the

great expense of my love’s bestow their heart. For had her in peaceful, I though it scarce to me, a passive weapons fly. I walk’d to-day!

               65

That Time drew on, and the universal tinge of oneness, when all about my eager following from the eye of watery many

subtle Censor scrutinize. At earst had I Heav’n will fervid covenant, Belle Isle, whose skies, of what is nourished. As is then, strange.

               66

Each in Beauty stranger was agreeable, and had left and waking in Senses in fragrant, or that nowe no streams,—guardians, go

floating doen lick. Had the meadows, and towery man bespoke the deuill at come ye in weary I thought think I’m different no farewell!

               67

It yearns for the loved through the milk- white, hide in the Chinese say, watching to dress his countrye, as Rainebowe bent myselfe at large to

another’s Ancle—cries of strong, through the adulterate doole to desert, I am helpless! As none of what yours, Cassandra mine.

               68

Look in the live: running was desire, close to a clog will the photographs from Eves faire perswaded tail, a vulture and sweet thy

living the merciless rills. I’ll wealth I refuse to moue; o let the worlds over her did seem alive on from me there’s no key.

               69

With that her crumenall. For simplest hell, yet, I’ll smiles; her soft hands, or change the seal’s wide. And noble those seemeth thy drowsy wing as

a friends. Ere Roffy renne to decaye. Just suffer what is nourishing should our solemnly, as do the tomb for this life? This Woluish sheep.

               70

I drew her tides,—adagios of islands, or sober, heaven? Where they circle the crushed and days, support Your Right, weigh a light, ah, yestern

sun; the nature gay, to lose by the hallucinations stay; inuention becomes clear me I won my fashion; a womankind.

               71

Of swimmers rich armfuls took. I wadna gie a button for a lass wi’ a tocher sae sleeve, or the eventide. And the text too

much of it then run away, to leaves about my side, perfect to reache: my hartblood is wightly past, the tenor of your destined prey.

               72

Through the sweet; the poet is won. Feet, maggoty minus and thereon, my suit you disdained, then separates what it mocks me, my lance

thy finger-tips in tender side the blood of measure! One hand in snow: arise from my love her woes, and find no spurre cannot be cured.

               73

They are richer entanglements must beyond conception of old in fetter’d me in the lidless- eyed more the body thus he raped

her shewing, though dooms of it heavy heart. And that suited with mortar already you lov’d before me as their voice in all my tongue.

[blooming-violets]

I write for The Amazing Spider-Man. This is a 20+ blog.

I’m in my 30′s. I don’t want to be interacting with teens. Thank you.

[Link to my Ask Box]

[help a poor bitch out (link to ko-fi)]

General Advice to Follow:   

🕸Observe the trigger warnings - 

I enjoy writing dark!themes in some of my fics. It’s important you read the warnings. I am not responsible for your content consumption on the internet. I do my part by adding appropriate warnings at the beginning of every fic that needs them and the rest is up to you. 

If you notice that there is something in particular that I’m not tagging as a warning, feel free to send me a message and let me know. If it’s reasonable, I’ll do my best to correct that in the future. 

Creature Like Me (Current Fic)

Status: In progress

Summary: Kraven and his guild of hunters have been tracking and quelling the werewolf population for centuries. The time has come for Aylin to complete her first solo hunt to prove herself to the guild. It was supposed to be simple. One wolf, one death, one victory. She never expected to end up with a secret hostage on her hands.

POV: Third Person || OC

Good Girl (Current Fic)

Status: In progress

Summary: It’s just an innocent crush on an attractive TA. There’s nothing to worry about it. Everything is fine. Don’t be silly, you would never hurt him. You love him. That’s all. It’s fine. Promise…

POV: Second Person || Reader

Pinky Promise

Status: Completed || Ten Chapters 

Summary: The fate of the one she loves most is put into the hands of a masked stranger, forever entwining their lives. 

POV: Second Person || OC 

Imminent

Status: Completed || Three Chapters

Summary:  Every time you close your eyes to sleep, you’re tormented by visions of future deaths. Sometimes it’s of people close to you and sometimes it’s of strangers. Yet, each time, you know it’s inevitable. There’s nothing you can do to stop death from finding their victims. But when a beautiful, sad, brown eyed man keeps pushing his way into your visions, you can’t help but try.

POV: Second Person || Reader

Smitten

Status: Completed || Six Chapters 

Summary: (AU) Serial Killer!Peter Parker takes an unhealthy interest in the woman next door. He believes she’s the key to solving his obsessive need to murder. The only logical explanation is to kidnap her and keep her prisoner in his basement until she returns his undying love. 

POV: Third Person || Peter and OC

Forever Isn’t Long Enough

Status: Completed || Four Chapters

Summary: (AU) Vampire!Peter has waited countless years for his soulmate to return to him. Now that she’s finally here, things aren’t as easy as he hoped. 

POV: Third Person || OC

Something Unforgivable

Status: Completed || Three Chapters

Summary: Peter’s love language is touch. When he’s gone too long without it, he tries to seek out love in places he shouldn’t. 

POV: Third Person || Peter

Smut: 

Peter’s Angel

Peter decided he must take his friend’s virginity one evening.

(virgin reader, possessive Peter)

Alley Cat

Peter refuses to wait until they get home to have her. The dirty alleyway is the perfect place for his perversions.

(dom/sub, outdoors)

The Ruler and The Killer

A female assassin finds a home in Peter. When he disappears one night, she receives a series of disturbing pictures and videos of his capture. It’s up to her to get him back.

(graphic language, serious torture, blood, murder, forced sexual encounters, submissive!Peter)

Peter and a Cam Girl

You become Spider-Man’s favorite online cam girl.  

(online mistress, submissive Peter)

Swimming Pool

Peter surprises Reader in the pool during a late night swim. 

(dub!con, swimming pool)

Enraptured

(AU) A forest nymph captures Peter’s heart. 

(slight breeding kink, forest/outdoors)

The Dishes

Peter fucks while you try to do the dishes. That’s it. That’s the plot. 

(”daddy” used in a sexual manner)

Doing So Well

Tutor Peter does a bad job as helping you study. 

(innocent reader prompt)

Not So Innocent 

Alcohol, roof top parties, and your favorite lab partner. 

(innocent reader prompt)

The To-Do List

Bent over a table while Peter’s birthday cake cooks in the oven.

(smut location prompt)

The Exhibit

Against a hotel window overlooking a busy street. 

(smut location prompt)

Angst:

Five Minutes

Peter receives a voice message that his girlfriend has been kidnapped. Things get out of control and a serious accident occurs.

(angsty, peter x reader)

Dancing On My Own

A look into how Peter and your friendship develops over the years from first grade to college.

(unrequited love, reader comes from abusive household, peter x reader)

Dancing On Her Own

Sequel to Dancing On My Own, Peter’s POV

(big time angst)

Happy Birthday

Peter missed his girlfriend’s birthday. She has yet to learn of his secret identity. It might be time to tell her.

(first fight, peter x reader)

Only Hope

Peter’s girlfriend knows he’s making a mistake by letting her go. Neither of them want this but he’s scared. When she’s continuously ignored, she takes matters into her own hand.

(alcohol use, gang activity, peter x reader)

Nicest Thing

Reader tends to her best friend after he suffers the loss of Gwen. She hides her own feelings in sacrifice of his.

(depression, anger issues, peter x reader)

Hurt/Comfort: 

The Darkest Days

The traumatic death of a close friend leads you into the protective arms of Spider-Man.

(No romance. No Peter Parker. Just a little snippet of the things Spider-Man might experience while playing the hero.)

Here For You

Peter helps comfort his girlfriend while she receives a difficult medical diagnosis.

(brain tumor diagnosis, hospital and mri, mentions of vomit, panic attack, peter x reader)

I’m With You

Peter falls for the jaded girl he trips over in the library. Then has to save her from her stalker. 

(SA is briefly shown, stalking)

I’m Not Alive

Peter is haunted by the memory of Gwen late one night.

(angst, nightmares, ptsd, a short Peter and Gwen drabble)

Without Them

Reader loses her siblings in a fire. The only reason she survived is because of Peter.

(angst, sibbing death, survivors guilt)

Talk Forever

Peter could listen to you talk forever about your favorite tv show.

(fluff)

Don’t

Peter’s grief and guilt push him too far during a fight. 

(angst, heavy fighting bordering on abuse from Peter, Reader takes a stand against his behavior)

Genetics

Peter’s Spidey tingle is able to sense a special power from their unborn child growing inside his wife’s womb. 

(fluff, pregnancy)  

Are You Real?

Touch starved reader in a long term relationship with Peter finds an unexpected visitor in her room one night. 

(mild angst, sweet ending) 

Skateboards and Photography

 Peter teaches Reader to skate much to her distaste. 

(fluff, flirty friends to lovers)

Fluff!Alphabet

The fluff alphabet for Peter

Smut!Alphabet

The smut alphabet for Peter 

(18+ obviously)

Peter as a Father

Headcanons about Daddy Peter as his children grow throughout the years

Peter’s Sex Life

Headcanons about what Peter would be like as a sexual partner

Friends to Lovers

Headcanons on Peter x Reader friend’s to lovers

Reader Almost Dying

How Peter (After NWH) would react to Reader experience a near death experience. 

Trick-Or-Treat

Peter makes a pit stop at Aunt May’s before Trick-Or-Treating with his twins.

(fluff)

Girls Just Wanna Have Fun

Dancing with Peter to help improve his terrible mood 

(fluff)

The Piggy-Back

Peter complains about having to walk a few blocks to a party. You decide to attempt to carry him as a way to shut him up. 

(fluff)

Grey Hair and Massages 

Giving preschool teacher Peter a massage and finding his grey’s

(tooth rotting fluff)

Six/Forty

Soft kisses that grow more passionate by each second / Kisses that start out passionate but grows more delicate

Eight

Running fingers through your lover's hair

Fifteen

Messy kisses, destroying furniture, trying to reach the bed

18+

Thirty Three

Soft kisses while cuddling in bed

Fifty Nine

Kissing your lover’s wounds after having bandaged them up

Forty Four

A goodbye kiss except neither can let go

Seventy Five

Standing on your tippy toes, frustrated you can’t reach your lover’s lips

Seventy Eight/Seventy Nine/Eighty

Kissing during an argument

18+

Eighty One

Kisses in which, ''we just broke up, but let's kiss one last time”

Eighty Two

Whispering “I love you” in between kisses

Drabble Moodboard Fics: 

No One Can Hurt You Now

Harry kidnaps Peter’s pregnant wife

Guess I’m Going Alone

Peter’s off days from being Spidey

Echo Your Name

Bookshop romances 

And In The Morning, I’ll Be With You

Slow peaceful mornings

Nothing’s Out To Get You

Freckles, sunshine, and finding love again

We All Have A Face

Angsty relationship miscommunications 

Fall In Love With Me

Coffee shop and thunder storms

Back To Basics

Virgin!Peter x Older!Fem Woman, 18+ smut

Random Pintrest Moodboard:

The one with friend’s to lovers

The one where Peter has a crush

The one where Peter is depressed

The one with bathtubs and lazy weekends

The one with the dance party

The one at the cabin in the woods

The one with the high school bullying au

The one where Peter is oblivious to your feelings

The one where you and Peter share a joint on the roof

The one where Peter can’t keep his hands off you

The one where cocky, blonde, au Peter is a beach daddy

The one where Peter meets a runaway

Caring For Reader’s Wounds After A Fight

Aftermath of a home invasion while Peter is out. 

(sexual assault, blood, trauma response)

Touch Starved

Touch starved Peter befriends his neighbor/crush. 

(mugging, ptsd from Gwen)

Look At Me

Peter finds you in the aftermath of a deadly bank robbery. 

(this fic involves a bank robbery where a shooting takes place. Multiple casualties, death, and blood mentioned)

Car Accident 

Reader gets into a near deadly car accident.

(Car accident injuries, blood, mention of death, coma)

[Part Two] [Part Three]

Bring Your Kids to Work Day

“Dragging yourself along the ground” prompt

When an unexpected fire breaks out in your office, it’s up to you to try and rescue two young children. 

(depictions of fire, burns, and smoke inhalation, description of a dead body and an injury of a child) 

Phone Sex

Peter has impromptu phone sex in a rather public place.

TW: masturbating in a public place, corruption kink, innocence kink, our couple here likes to play around with the school girl fantasy of professor/student rp, a lot of pet names for reader (like baby girl, princess, good girl, little girl, sweetheart, etc), and names for Peter (like sir and Mr. Parker)

Fight to be on Top

After overhearing a group of guys at a party speak crudely about you, Peter takes you home to prove that he’s always the one to come out on top. 

TW: very light, brief choking in this

Cheating With Peter

You may be married but Peter and his games are your true love. 

TW: a bit on the dub-con side but I promise they’re really both consenting adults who like the thrill of the game, rough sex, cat and mouse style

Blind, Bound, and Beautiful 

(blindfolds prompt) Late night, alone in the office, leaves opportunities for all sorts of frisky business to occur. 

TW: non-consensual role play scenario between two consenting adults, knife play (though no blood involved, more so used as a scare tactic/teasing of the skin), light bondage of arms, slapping/biting/choking/Peter generally being rough with his partner, in the work place after hours, overly possessive Peter for the sake of the rp, degrading kink mixing with some praise

In The Dark

(face sitting/overstim prompt) Peter tends to his partner having a bad mental health day. He decides she needs someone to take control for a little while. 

TW:  soft!dom Peter, oral, anal, mentions of depression

Mirror, Mirror

(picked trope: mirror sex) Peter x Black Cat. Felicia lures Peter to her hide out in the hopes of receiving his attention. 

TW: a rough face fucking occurs 

Under the Silver Lake:

🕸The Goddess 

Sam relocates after the events of UtSL and stumbles into the life of a new, captivating woman with an enticing profession. He can’t seem to keep his eyes off her.

(18+ smut fic) 

Under the Banner of Heaven:

🕸Saints and Sinners

Jeb falls prey to his darkest temptations while working a case. 

(18+ smut fic)

Stranger Things:

🕸Eddie Munson Fluff Alphabet

The Last of Us:

🕸An Eye For An Eye

Joel is forced to watch his partner get killed. 

(Joel Miller x fem!Reader)

[headfullofpresley]

To The Grave

Pairing: Elvis Presley x reader

Summary: Your brother doesn't like you dating around in general, but he has a particularly bad feeling about the guy from work who takes you to the Memphis fair.

Word count: 5,5K

Warning(s): brother!Elvis, angsty, Elvis is not famous (he could be since there's no indication if he is or not, i just wrote it in mind that he's not), mentions of Anita, some sexism, hints of SA!! (not detailed), violence, mentions of/possible murder, strong language.

Author's note: this was supposed to be a "overprotective brother!elvis follows his sister when she goes on a date" kinda vibe but ofcourse, i got carried away and it turned into much more. also, the ending is absolute shit HA! just pretend it isn't. hope y'all enjoy nonetheless. <3

masterlist

Tonight was an exciting night for you. Finally the guy you had been crushing on for the past year asked you out on an official date and you had been over the moon for entirety of the day. You had become fast friends with your co-worker Dean when you started your job and it was impossible not to fall for him – he had a charming smile, beautiful brown eyes and golden locks and he always said all the right things.

You were smitten and in a state of dreaming about the man the second you saw him, but leave it up to your older brother to rain on your parade.

“He’s probably expectin’ to get under your skirt,” the blue eyed monster on your bed mumbled, flipping through one of your magazine’s he had picked up from your nightstand.

“Shut up. Not all men are like you,” you spat at your brother as you stood in front of your full length mirror, applying a red tint to your lips. You had made an effort tonight – the evenings were still warm in mid September, so you had decided on a short black and white mod dress, matching them with a pair of faux leather loafers. Your hair and make-up took you way longer than usual but you looked good. You felt pretty.

“And you ain’t gonna wear that,” Elvis said as his eyes found your silhouette in front of the mirror, his head leaning lazily in the palm of his hand. His fingers were still flipping pages even though his attention was fully on you.

Your dress was short. Not scandalously short, but with the way it stopped at the mid of your thighs, you’d probably have to sneak out of the house before your father woke up from his pre-dinner nap. You wouldn’t listen to your fathers’ protests and you definitely were not going to listen to those of your brother.

“You know, if you wanna boss someone around and act like Dad, go to Anita’s house and convince her to get knocked up or something,” you rolled your eyes at him, dropping your lipstick in your purse before you walked over to your vanity table and sprayed some perfume in your neck. He narrowed his eyes at you in annoyance, watching how you happily rubbed your wrists together to spread the sweet scent around.

“We broke up,” he mumbled softly, ruffling the pages of the magazine a little so his words were less audible. But you heard them.

“What? El, you’re an ass. Call her and make things right,” you told him as you placed a hand on your hip, looking at him like a mother would when scolding her child.

Elvis was three years older than you, and loved to remind you of it, but you liked to tease him and act like you were the oldest sibling instead.

He scoffed, throwing the magazine to the pillows as he sat up on the edge of your bed. “Who said I did anythin’ wrong?!”

You raised an eyebrow at him and he sighed, giving you a roll of his eyes now as he got up and walked to your wardrobe, taking a cardigan from a hanger. “It ain’t your business, anyways. Put this on,” he said as he held out the piece of clothing to you and you just laughed, shaking your head.

“It’s September, Elvis. And it doesn’t go with my outfit, I’m not wearing that,” you told him as you grasped the cardigan out of his hand, flinging it onto your bed as you walked out of your bedroom. He followed immediately, slowing down in pace as well as you tiptoed through the hall, peeking around the corner to see if your father was in his chair in front of the TV. He was – head falling back as he was drifting off into a slumber, not bothered by the noise of the news he put on as soon as he came home.

“How old is this Dean figure again?” Elvis whispered as he placed a hand on your shoulder, leaning down on you to prevent you from moving as he looked into the living room as well. You sighed as you dug your elbow in his stomach, making him back off but not without earning a flat handed slap against your upper arm. You squealed softly, rubbing your arm as you shot him a glare. “He’s old enough. None of your business,” you threw his own words back at him, slowly walking out of the hall and through the living room to the front door.

Elvis couldn’t stop you from leaving and he stood there for a few seconds, contemplating on what to do. He walked to the door where you stood, reaching for his carkeys so he could drop you off at the Memphis fairgrounds but as you opened the door and he heard the running engine of the baby blue Ford Thunderbird that stood by the side of the road, he was too starstruck by the car to notice you making moves to leave the house.

“The fool has nice taste,” he mumbled to himself, eyes widening as you were about to close the door in his face. He pulled it back open and grabbed your arm, pulling you back inside.

“Dad! Y/N is going out!” He barked at Vernon who immediately opened his eyes at his son’s loud voice, grumbling softly as he looked at you and Elvis standing by the door. Vernon sighed in annoyance, waving Elvis off as he put his head back against the chair and you laughed at your brother, digging your nails in his forearm so he’d let you go. His grip tightened instead. “Look at what she’s wearing. You’re gonna let her leave the house like this?” Elvis yelled again and you gasped, trying to tug your arm out of his grip.

Your mother came out of the kitchen and walked over to you two, slapping Elvis’ arm with a kitchen towel. The fabric was damp, making the smack harder than he expected and he let go of your arm, pouting at Gladys as he grabbed onto his own arm.

“Leave your sister alone and come help me in the kitchen if you want to eat,” she told him and you grinned tauntingly at him, pressing a kiss on Gladys’ cheek before you quickly ran out of the door. Your father was too sleepy to be interested in your evening plans – thank God.

Elvis sighed in annoyance as he moved to the window, watching you get into Dean’s car before it drove off and turned the corner at the end of the street.

You had been on dates before and while he never liked the guys that you went out with or brought home, he had never been this bothered to see you leaving with someone. You were his younger and only sister and while he loved driving you up the wall most hours of the day, you were the bestest friend he could ever have.

He’d die if something would happen to you and for some reason, he had a bad feeling about your date tonight. He had a bad feeling about Dean.

“I’m leaving!” he announced to his mother as he was already stepping into his shoes by the front door, slipping his comb in his back pocket. His mother came rushing back out of the kitchen once more with a deep sigh blown out in the air – she could already guess what he was about to do.

“Make sure she doesn’t see you,” she told him as he opened the door and he smiled softly, nodding. “Oh, and baby? You’re doin’ the dishes when you come back,” she pointed out to him before she turned around and went back into the kitchen to start on a dinner for two instead.

“We’re not here for candy apples, pay attention,” Elvis hissed at Scotty, keeping his voice low as he tugged his friend back by the neck of his shirt. Scotty nearly choked as he stumbled back on his feet, sighing as he was dragged further away from one of the dozen snack stands the fair had to offer. The blonde male slapped Elvis’ arm off and fixed his collar, following his friend through the crowd in a slow pace. You were a few feet ahead of them, your arm linked through Dean’s and you seemed like you were having a good time.

Scotty thought he’d be having a good time as well when Elvis picked him up and told him they were going to the fairgrounds. Go on a couple of rides, get a few drinks, pick up a pretty lady or two. But no, he was expected to play an amateur detective.

“You don’t have to whisper. She can’t hear us!” Scotty yelled on purpose, laughing as he startled Elvis who immediately looked your way to see if you heard. Impossible with all the noises around them, but you’d have a fit if you knew he was here.

“Just keep walkin’, Moore,” he ordered, shoving Scotty ahead of him with a soft laugh.

 

You were having the time of your life. Dean was a gentleman and tried to win you prizes at nearly every game you walked past. He bought you any food you wanted and you two talked about work and shared interests. It felt different than when you’d have a conversation with him during shifts and you were still floating high on that pink cloud… until Dean decided to have a couple of beers after you came out of the haunted house and things were starting to take an ugly turn.

He was getting handsy – hand dipping a little lower to your ass every time he’d slip his arm around your waist, trying to kiss you even when you politely told him off. He was tall and strong, too strong for you to stop him when he grabbed your arm and pulled you away from the crowds. You were roughly pushed against a couple of stacked up crowd control fences, the metal coming in contact with your back roughly due to the force of Dean’s strength.

Your date was all over you as soon as he had you trapped between him and the fences. You planted your hands against his chest to push him off but failed miserably, not able to gather enough strength in your weak arms. He could already sense your next move coming as you raised your knee to kick him in the balls and he quickly placed his leg in between your legs, the alcohol on his breath overwhelming you as he forced his tongue into your mouth.

Your body froze for a second. Your mother had always prepared you for something like this. She always told you to be careful and here you were, dressing up in your shortest dresses to go out with men who probably didn’t care about anything else other than your body. They’d take what they wanted and that was that. Elvis was right and Dean wasn't better than the others. He might even be worse.

You had to scream. Yell. Call for help.

Your mother told you to scream at the top of your lungs when you’d be in danger, no matter if it made you look crazy or not.

You grabbed onto Dean’s hair as you bit down on his tongue as hard as you could. When he pulled back with a painful yelp, you pulled on his hair as hard as you could to get him off of you. Yet again, you failed and before you knew it a large hand grabbed onto your jaw and you were once more trapped.

Elvis was in near hysterics when he lost you out of his sight, that gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach growing and growing as the seconds ticked by on the clock. Scotty tried to calm him down, tell him that you were probably in one of the rides, but as he saw the state Elvis was in he figured this was serious. This was more than Elvis just being an overprotective brother. Scotty didn’t protest as he followed Elvis to the back of the snack stands and rides, looking for you and your date.

Aside from some couples making out in the darkest spots on the fairgrounds, no one was back here and Scotty was about to suggest to go back and see if you were among the crowd again, until they both heard a scream. And another. And another. Elvis followed the sound like a police dog on duty with Scotty hot on his tail.

You screamed at the top of your lungs when Dean’s hands slipped under your dress. The screaming and struggle didn’t stop him at first but he was getting annoyed, looking at you with drunk angry eyes as he raised his hand. You closed your mouth, bracing for the impact of his flat hand but it never came. Instead, Dean was pulled off of you and when you opened your eyes, you saw Elvis landing a punch against your date’s jaw.

Scotty was by your side immediately, gently tugging you further away from Dean and Elvis who had now made their way to the ground. Elvis was on top, repeatedly punching the other man in the face and he didn’t stop until Dean’s nose cracked, blood staining his face and your brother’s knuckles.

“Don’t you ever fuckin’ touch my sister again,” Elvis growled in the other man’s face as he grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling him up before he slammed his head back on the ground. Luckily for Dean they were on grass, or his skull would’ve been probably cracked by now. “If I see you around her again, I’ll break more than just your nose,” Elvis leaned in closer to Dean’s face, grabbing his face to dig his fingertips into his cheeks harshly. Your date couldn’t do anything but look up at the man above him with wide eyes, soft whimpers getting stuck in his throat. “And if you start runnin’ that fuckin’ mouth of yours, I’ll rip your goddamn tongue out. Understood?”

You ripped yourself out of Scotty’s weak grip and ran over to your brother, grabbing onto his shirt to pull him off of your asshole of a date. Elvis knew the best thing to do here was to let go and get off of Dean, but he couldn’t stop himself from ramming his head into the dirt and grass once more.

“ELVIS! ENOUGH!” You screeched in panic as you saw Dean’s eyes roll into the back of his head, pulling your brother off of him with all your might. Scotty rushed over to help and as Elvis got back up to his feet, he immediately wrapped an arm around you. As you noticed some people coming closer to see what was going on, you grabbed onto Scotty’s arm and started dragging them along with you as you made your way back to fairgrounds. They got the hint as soon as they saw the couple creeping closer to Dean and when one of the girls let out a panicked scream, panic settled in not only your stomach but also that of Elvis and Scotty.

“We have to split up,” Scotty called out as he stopped running, looking at you and Elvis. A duo of police officers on patrol walked right by you and you quickly covered Elvis’ bloody knuckles with your hand as his arm was still wrapped around your shoulder.

Scotty was right. With your brother’s hair looking so ruffled and the tiny splatters of blood on his shirt, he looked suspicious. But you couldn’t leave him alone and he sure as hell wasn’t going to leave your side.

“Go home,” Elvis told Scotty, giving his friend a little nod. “Take my car and go home. We’ll get out of here, go!”

Scotty didn’t want to leave, but as more police men got a whiff of what happened at the back of the damned bumping cars attraction, he knew he didn’t have a choice. He sighed as he took Elvis’ carkeys from him, telling you two to be careful before he turned around and disappeared into the crowd.

“Take my hand and act normal,” Elvis whispered to you as a police man made eye contact with him. Elvis didn’t shy away, instead giving the man that was looking at him through the heads in the crowd a friendly nod as he slipped his hand into yours. He winced softly as your fingers came in contact with the cracked skin on his knuckles and you apologised softly, walking along with him as he gently tugged you through the sea of people. You were both trying to act as normal as you could, but it seemed like that one officer was suspicious of your brother and you.

“He’s following us,” you whispered as you walked closely to Elvis’ side, looking over your shoulder. Elvis tugged on your arm.

“Don’t look,” he warned through gritted teeth and you immediately looked in front of you again. The officer wasn’t giving up, pushing people out of his way with quick apologies rolling off of his tongue to get closer to you and Elvis.

Elvis could sense the man coming closer and closer again and when another officer popped up a few feet ahead of you, your brother quickly pulled you along to the ferris wheel. He ignored the protests of the people waiting in line as he roughly shoved them aside while striding forward.

“You have to buy a ticket!” The employee at the attraction barked in annoyance, but Elvis ignored him and quickly pushed you into the cart when the previous people were out of it. Elvis sat next to you, trying to pull the safety bar down but the employee kept his foot down.

“Ticket first or out!”

“Look, man. This is my lady, I’m kind of proposing,” Elvis whispered, sending the man an overexaggerated wink and a feigned smirk. The man narrowed his eyes in suspicion, noticing the blood on your brother’s hands as he once again told you two to get lost.

You learned forward to look at the man, raising your hand to grab onto the bar as well. “Listen here, mister. Put this goddamn bar down right now or I’ll shove that little girl’s cotton candy so far up your a-“

The employee was distracted by your foul mouth as you pointed at the little girl in the front of the line and Elvis took the opportunity to pull down the safety bar as hard as he could, clicking it into place. The operator of the ferris wheel shrugged and with lack of interest for his job, he got the attraction running again, sending you and Elvis further away from his co-worker and higher in the air.

“What if he’s dead?” You broke the silence as the ferris wheel stopped again to let people out and you were half way at the top. Elvis sighed as he ran his hands over his face and into his hair to slick back the darkened locks before he looked at you.

“I don’t give a rat’s ass if he is. What happened out there?”

Now it was your turn to sigh and you clenched your hands around the safety bar as you thought back about Dean and how he forced himself onto you.

“Did he… did.. d-did.. something happen?”

You looked at your brother as tears clouded your vision and he immediately wrapped his arm around you, pushing you into his side. You hid your face in his chest, biting back more tears as you slowly shook your head.

“He tried… but he didn’t. He kissed me and grabbed me, but you were there before things could get that far,” you whispered and he placed his hand on the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair.

“I knew it, I fuckin’ knew it. Didn’t trust him from the moment I saw his smug face. Didn’t I tell you?”

When you lifted your head out of his chest and he saw the look in your eyes, the muscles in his face softened and he sighed deeply. Now was not the time for “I told you so’s”.

“Shit, I’m sorry, little one,” he quickly apologised as he hung his arm around your shoulder again, hand rubbing your arm. “I hope he’s fuckin’ dead,” he mumbled under his breathe as he looked down, immediately noticing some cops that were still lingering around. That one cop who had followed you was waiting by the entrance of the ferris wheel, for God knows what. Elvis should’ve never nodded at him the way he did.

Elvis gasped softly as you smacked his chest and he looked at you with wide eyes, placing his hand on the spot you just hit him.

“How can you say that?!” you cried out, hiding your face in your hands. You didn’t care about Dean, not in the slightest, but if he really was dead… that would make your brother a murderer. And murderers went to jail. For a very very long time. Before Elvis could speak again, you already beat him to it, words coming out muffled and broken.

“You’ll g-go to p-prison and I w-won’t see.. see.. y-you anymore. H-how can you d-do this to me?”

“Hey, c’mere,” he sighed as he wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tightly. He pressed his chin on the top of your head, his stomach dropping for a second. He hated seeing you cry and while he had made you cry countless of times before when you were younger, that was all fun and games. They had never experienced anything as serious as this and he had absolutely no idea what would happen to them as soon as they would get off this ferris wheel, but he was going to make sure you’d be safe.

Maybe the words that he spoke next were nothing but empty promises, but he needed you to calm down. An idea popped in his head and perhaps it was dumb and wouldn’t work at all, but he did not want to go to jail nor did he want to put that burden on your shoulders.

“Look at me,” he whispered as he grabbed your face in his hands, thumbs wiping your tears away as the ferris wheel stopped at the top. “I ain’t going to prison, silly. I know you want my room, but you won’t get rid of me so soon,” he laughed softly and you looked at him with a pout, not laughing at his joke. You knew he was trying to cheer you up but you were still terrified of losing your brother and feeling guilty of having him become a criminal because of you.

“Listen, little one,” he said as he looked down again, quickly turning back to face you as he noticed the officer looking up. He let go of your face and wiped your tears away, trying to remove a mascara stain from your cheekbone. “Once we get down, we’ll pretend we’re a couple. Remember Valentine’s Day two years ago when you were single and Anita was out of town and we went to see a movie with couple discount?”

You nodded as you sniffled, inhaling a deep breath of fresh air as you ran your hands through your hair, trying to fix it and make yourself look a bit more presentable again. “Okay, good. Pretend we had a fight up here. I’ll think of something to tell him once we get down,” he said as he grabbed your hand, inspecting your nails for a second. Long and sharp enough.

“Scratch my face or slap me… something that’ll leave a mark,”

You widened your eyes as you looked at him. You pulled your hand out of his grip as you opened your mouth to protest but as you noticed cops were still lingering, you knew this was your only option.

Maybe you two would fail horribly and the cop would see right through you, but it was worth trying.

“Count it down,” you told him and he nodded, but you didn’t give him the chance to finish counting, smacking him across the face before he could get to number three. You made sure to scratch him along the way, your nails scraping his cheekbones and he grunted softly, wiggling his jaw a little as he glared at you.

He didn’t miss the small grin on your face.

“You enjoyed that way too much,”

“Shut up, Elvis, this is serious!” you told him as you dug a handkerchief out of your purse and he allowed you to wipe away as much of the blood on his knuckles as you could.

“You were the one who was smilin’,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes but you ignored him as you shoved the handkerchief to the bottom of your purse.

As the ferris wheel started moving again, you looked at him and he gave you a small nod and smile. You sighed and tried not to think about your nerves too much, acting as casual as you could as the attraction came to a stop and the still annoyed employee let you two out.

“Guess her answer was no, huh?” he yelled after Elvis, pointing at the scratch on his cheek with a grin and Elvis pulled a mocking face at him before he tugged you along with him.

“Keep your arm behind me,” you whispered quickly to him. He slipped his arm around your waist and you put your hand on top of his, lacing your fingers together so his knuckles were hidden behind your palm.

“Let me do the talkin’,” he told you as he noticed the cop coming closer.

The officer’s lips curled into a smug grin as he stood in front of you two, eyeing you both up and down as he placed his hands on his hips.

“Seemed like you two were in a rush. Everything all right?”

The cop had no reason to stop you two at all. He never noticed the blood on Elvis’ hands or the hint of panic in your eyes. He just wanted to have a closer look at your brother.

Elvis plastered his most friendly smile on his face, nodding as he looked at you, squeezing you closer to him. “The lady wanted to get on the wheel before she had to go home. You know how impatient these females can get,”

You had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from gagging with the way your brother and the officer were laughing about that comment. You knew it was feigned from your brother’s side, but to know it was probably real from the cop’s side made your skin crawl.

“I see. Must be a feisty one, claws out and all,” the cop grinned as he nodded at Elvis’ cheek and Elvis felt you tensing up next to him, squeezing your fingers that were laced with his in warning.

“You bet. Got my hands full with this one,” Elvis laughed loudly before he turned to you, pressing a kiss on your temple as he whispered a quick apology. You just nodded and laughed along, pretending it was the funniest thing you heard.

The cop didn’t see the small blood spatters on Elvis’ shirt and hummed softly, looking at you for a second before he returned his attention back to your brother.

“Someone was attacked about fifteen minutes ago, so just be careful out there, all right?”

You both feigned shock and you took it a step further by placing your hand on Elvis’ chest and playing the part of ‘scared girlfriend’ as you hugged into his side. Elvis had to bite his tongue to hold back a laugh and kept his other hand out of the cop’s view as much as he could, nodding.

“Don’t worry, miss. You look like you know how to stand your ground and your boyfriend here seems like a good protector,” he smiled, looking at Elvis a little too long. Elvis didn’t notice, but you had to hide your face in your brother’s chest as you felt a laugh tickling in your throat.

The officer let you go and you couldn’t believe he actually bought the poor act you and Elvis just performed. You thought it was weird that the cop had followed you all the way to the ferris wheel and waited for you to get off, but as you and Elvis were off the fairgrounds, the puzzle pieces were all falling together.

“H-He was t-totally flirting with you!” You hiccuped with laughter as you and Elvis walked to downtown Memphis, your brother a few feet ahead of you because you had been laughing non stop and yelling out in the open how a cop was coming on to him.

He was annoyed, but not really. He didn’t give a shit about the cop nor about the fact that he flirted with him. It seemed to have gotten Dean and what happened off of your mind for a little bit and you were laughing, and that was all he wanted.

“Shut your face or I’m tellin’ Mom that you took money out of her purse last week,”

You stopped laughing as you gasped, jogging up to him. He grinned as you narrowed your eyes at him, grabbing onto his arm. “One word to Mom and I’ll tell Anita you sleep with that one eyed stinky teddy bear when she’s not there,” you told him, a grin appearing on your face as you let go of his arm and crossed your arms as you walked. “Oh wait, that’s right. She doesn’t stay over anymore, because she dumped you,”

He stopped in his tracks as he glared angrily at you. You stopped walking too and laughed, not bothered by the murderous look he was giving you.

“She didn’t dump me. It was mutual,”

“If that’s what you want to believe, suit yourself,”

“I’m telling Mom about the money,” he said, giving you a sarcastic smile as he started walking again.

You were quick to follow him with a soft whine and he grinned as he swung his arm around your shoulder, nodding to the diner across the street.

“I can be persuaded to keep my mouth shut,” he smiled as he was already pulling you along, raising his hand at a car that stopped for you two to cross. You already knew what he was hinting at and rolled your eyes, following him inside the restaurant nonetheless.

 

“Thank you, El,” you told him as you sipped on your milkshake, watching him pop a french fry in his mouth. “For tonight. I.. I don’t know what would’ve happened if you wouldn’t have been there,”

He looked up at you as he grabbed a napkin, wiping some salt off of his fingers as he smiled softly. He reached an arm out across the table and placed his hand on top of yours, squeezing it softly.

“I would say listen to your older brother, but I get it. You’re young and you want to find love, but not everyone can be trusted. Not everyone is… good,”

“You’re only three years older and besides, I don’t think I will take dating advice from someone who had a bombshell girlfriend and then probably did something shitty to get dumped by her,”

“Really? You’re goin’ to ruin this moment? Now?”

He pulled his hand back as he rolled his eyes and you threw your head back with a laugh, watching with a grin on your face as he continued eating his food with a shake of his head. He couldn’t hold back a laugh of his own though, flicking a french fry your way.

“I was kiddin’,” you grinned as you took the fry out of your milkshake where it landed and popped it into your mouth. “I promise I’ll listen to you next time. You’re better at reading people, anyways,”

He nodded in agreement, wiping the corner of his mouth as he smiled at you. “The only man you can trust is me,”

“What about Dad?” you questioned with a laugh, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Fine, he can be number two,” he chuckled, looking at you. He raised his arm  and reached it out to you again, sticking his ringed pinky out to you.

“Not a word to Mom and Dad. We’re takin’ this to the grave,”

You sighed softly, nodding as you hooked your own pinky around his. You kissed the back of your hand and allowed him to pull your hands to his face, kissing the back of his own. You let go of his pinky and sipped on your milkshake, watching other patrons in the diner.

“To the grave,” you mumbled, not having another choice than to agree. Your parents would be in hysterics if they found out what happened, especially your mother.

You had no idea if Dean was still alive or not and you weren’t sure how you felt about that. Even if you would feel bad, you would always stick by your brother’s side. Neither of you had ever broken a pinky promise, not silly ones and not serious ones.

This promise was an extreme one. Someone might have died by your brother’s hands tonight and you were part of it. You felt somewhat of an accomplice.

Like it was your fault even.

But you’d be damned to let your brother end up behind bars, even if it meant keeping someone's death a secret.

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Hello!Me again! Can you guys help me find Sterek fanfiction where one of them moves to a new city or country and romance sparkes after they meet? Thank you!

Here you go, @poedamerons!

Not Until The Third Date by kaistrex (weishen)

(1/1 I 1,149 I General)

Derek knows he must be hallucinating as he stares, bleary-eyed, down at a little fox trying to steal his bag of chips in the middle of the snacks aisle of the grocery store.

“Batman! What's taking so—?”

Derek’s head snaps up to stare at the owner of the voice who's just rounded the end of the aisle, a dark-haired, dark-eyed man pushing a cart towards him.

The man rests his elbows on the handle of his shopping cart, the quirk of a smile lending warmth to eyes not as dark as Derek had first thought. “You must be Derek Hale.”

*

Or in which Stiles has a fox familiar named Batman who likes to meddle.

Queer Your Coffee by alisvolatpropiis

(1/1 I 3,084 I Not Rated)

Derek's just over the city line when he sees a sign for an independent drive-thru place, Full Spectrum Brew. There are three cars in line when he turns in, which annoys him but gives him hope. Not that he really trusts the people of Beacon Hills to have much taste when it comes to coffee (god, he is a snob), but the shop’s popularity does seem to bode well. The line of cars moves way more slowly than he’d like, each customer in front of him seeming to take way too long to order, and then lingering when they get their coffee. He’s irritable from lack of sleep and an even more detrimental lack of caffeine, anxious to get out of the car. Finally it’s his turn and he slowly rolls up to the window, turning the radio down.

For a second, he thinks he must have fallen asleep while he was waiting, because what he sees when he looks in the window surely must be a dream.

Stunning brown eyes like glowing honey and sweet little nose, slightly upturned; a shapely pink mouth, bottom-lip pierced by a thin black hoop that he's worrying with the tip of his tongue as he smiles a gorgeous hello.

He's the most beautiful man Derek's ever seen.

And he’s shirtless.

Date My Daddy by tabbytabbytabby

(1/1 I 3,832 I General)

When his daughter is born Derek moves out of Beacon Hills to keep her away from Kate. After Kate's death Derek returns to Beacon Hills and meets Stiles. Derek is immediately smitten, which doesn't go unnoticed by his daughter Emma.

and that's a wrap by the_problem_with_stardust

(2/2 I 4,120 I Teen)

An insanely attractive guy and his terrifying dog move into the Preserve. Too bad Stiles is a magnet for embarrassing situations.

so bored of all these days (and all these lonely drawn out ways) by fairydustedtheory

(1/1 I 12,990 I Teen)

Stiles is bored out of his mind and spies on his neighbors to pass the time as any sane and mature young man would. The day a new hot guy moves in across the street, well, first it's a real treat for Stiles' lurking habits, and then all hell breaks loose or something.

[a-libra-writes]

Heyyy! I saw your requests were open and was wondering if I could request some Ronald Speirs x fem!reader headcannons for how Speirs would be when he has a crush on reader and is pining for her but doesn’t realise she likes him back until she tells him? Thank you

this is for this anon and Dana.... . enjoy your terrifying sweet brown-eyed hubby

Firstly, he doesn't notice when his feelings moves from admiration and respect to a full-blown crush. Speirs has a lot on his plate and you're such a regular fixture in his day to day life.

Speirs always made sure the men respected you and called you by your proper rank. Then he became more considerate - taking you aside to make sure you're alright after a stressful day of shelling, helping you tend to a wound, bringing you an extra cup of coffee early in the morning. When you thank him, he's modest, but his dark eyes are bright from the compliment.

The thing is, the closer you get and the more he likes you, the more comfortable he'll feel teasing you. This man is a terrible tease in more ways than one; he'll worry the hell out of you with some stupid-ass stunt in the battlefield then waltz back. "That's quite a face, major. You wear it better than most."

He just smiles when you swat at him or cuss him out for panicking you. Doubly so if he comes into your tent wounded, having the nerve to look pleased while you're fretting about him.

"You see my hair? You're turning it grey, Ron!" "I like grey."

"Speirs, where'd you get this? You keep finding these things -" "Do you like it? I know where to 'find' another."

He can't handle the feelings that bubble up when you call him Ron. Honestly, he can't remember when you started doing it, but he loves it when you say it, no matter your tone - scolding, pleased, frantic. He can't help but draw himself closer when you use it, as it's always when you're both alone and he finds himself wanting to come as close as he dares.

And this isn't getting into the irritation he feels when other men are around. At first he was just pissed at the ones who disrespected you, who thought the Army was no place for a woman, even if you were a vital part of their operations. It started to extend to the ones who were friendly and kind, who you joked with. That jealousy, combined with the almost painful feeling he got in his chest when you said his name ... maybe it was time for Ron to admit that he was more than smitten.

Your reciprocation didn't occur to him unless you're very forward. The thing is, this is a warzone. Stress is high and it could just be his own imagination, his own feelings playing tricks on him when he notices your glances. Speirs doesn't want to be too forward, not wanting to push unwanted stress on you - and he hates the idea of you being wary of him, assuming he's like all the other men who hung around because they thought you were easy and willing. So if anything, Speirs is careful.

So careful and in a little denial that when she takes his hands in her's, and tells him when they're all alone... He doesn't immediately respond. He looks at their clasped hands, at your flushed cheeks and eyes full of anticipation ... and of course he has to make a wisecrack before leaning in to kiss you.

[separatist-apologist]

Ok but picture this: Lucien and Elain are good friends since childhood and after one drunken night, Elain gets pregnant. Lucien and Elain agree to raise the baby together even though they’re not together. Fast forward three years, Lucien is an amazing dad and Elain is a great mother. We have cute baby Elucien and the IC trying to match make Lucien and Elain. Thoughts?

I started to write this out but I couldn't get past 1600 words so we'll do it in this format instead!

Elain and Lucien are juniors in college when they have their little tryst. They're both stupid in love with each other and sure the other does not feel that way.

Two months later Elain realizes she's pregnant. She tells Lucien he doesn't have to stay but he tells her they're in this together.

They get an apartment together off campus to prepare for their new baby.

The baby is born on a bright summer day and Lucien and Elain name the brown eyed, red-haired baby Ivy. She's got light brown skin like her dad and her moms soft smile. Lucien and Elain are instantly smitten.

Elain and Lucien trade off nights with no sleep, taking the baby to class, and having a life. They're a really good team and seen as an oddity on campus. Everyone thinks they should just get together but Elain and Lucien swear they're better as friends.

Lucien can't stand being so close to Elain without having her and when baby Ivy turns one, Lucien moves out. Elain pretends it doesn't hurt her feelings but she cries herself to sleep for months.

Lucien is determined to get over Elain and begins dating, never noticing that Elain herself doesn't date. Most of the women he meets don't last long until he finds Jesminda.

She doesn't really want kids but she doesn't mind that he has them, either. She's a sharp contrast to serious, studious Elain. Jesminda is carefree and easy-going and Lucien revels in her for a time, living like a single man when he doesn't have Ivy.

He starts to notice, after a year, that Jesminda is pushing him to take Ivy less. He's graduated, he's got a good, steady income and he's young. He should travel, should do the kind of things twenty three year old men OUGHT to do.

Elain doesn't say anything but for the first time there is strain in their friendship. She doesn't want to tell Lucien who to date but the less time he spends with their daughter hurts Ivy and Elain has to pick up the pieces.

She tells her sisters, confessing one drunken night to EVERYTHING. She's in love with him, she's always been in love with him and she's terrified he's going to marry Jesminda and become a weekend dad that does the bare minimum.

Feyre and Nesta start a text chain with their husbands Cassian and Rhysand. This spawns to their friend Azriel and Nesta's friends Gwyn and Emorie, and then Feyre's best friends Amren and Mor. Everyone has opinions on how to make Lucien and Elain realize they belong together.

Azriel starts flirting with Elain whenever Lucien is around, coming by the new house Elain just bought to help her with projects. Elain doesn't notice he only seems to stop by on Lucien's weekends, right around the times he picks up and drops off Ivy. Azriel makes a big show of mowing the lawn and cleaning out the gutters without his shirt on and is always casually touching Elain.

It works. Lucien wants to know who Azriel is and Elain, oblivious to her sister's machinations, shrugs and says he's a friend. Azriel reports back to Nesta and Feyre that Lucien is jealous and the sisters softly cheer.

Cassian and Rhysand invite Lucien to a football game, box seats and bond over the Archeron women. Rhys tells the story of how he almost lost Feyre to her ex Tamlin, and Cassian commiserates with his similar near miss with Eris. "Wouldn't it be shitty to lose the woman of your dreams to another man because you didn't say something?" Cassian opines to Rhys, watching Lucien from the corner of his eye. Lucien's expression becomes far away. Rhys and Cassian high-five when Lucien goes to the bathroom

Feyre, who always liked Lucien, invites him to a pool party in the middle of summer where Elain, too, just so happens to be. In the tiniest bikini Lucien has ever seen. He nearly drowns when, so busy staring, he accidentally walked into the deepest end of the pool without realizing what he was doing. Though Feyre hadn't intended for that to happen, it was Elain who went in after him, pulling him back up and everyone watches how he keeps his hands on her wet body while she mothers him.

Lucien feels insane. What if Elain picks this Azriel guy? He seems nice enough and it's impossible not to notice how hot he is. He's always around, he's good with Ivy. Lucien is consumed with his fear.

He's also frustrated with Jesminda. There's no crime in not wanting children but she met him when he had a daughter and said she didn't mind. It's becoming clear that she very much does and wants to be around Ivy as little as possible. They don't bond and Jesminda can be unintentionally cold. On a trip to Denver, Lucien accidentally blurts out to Jesminda he wants to break up.

The timing is bad. She thought he meant to propose and got her nails done for the occasion. She yells at him in front of a bunch of tourists, who offer sympathetic smiles. The flight back home is awkward. When Lucien tells Elain, she tells her sisters and Nesta and Feyre realize part one of their plan is complete.

Now it's Elain's turn to feel a hint of jealousy. Deciding to kill two birds with one stone, Nesta asks Gwyn to hit on Lucien during a family party, resulting in both Azriel AND Elain silently seething. Lucien is utterly unaware and Gwyn has no idea Nesta is also doing some matchmaking on her behalf, thinking she's just trying to get Elain and Lucien to admit their feelings

At the family Christmas party, Feyre locks Elain into a bedroom and when Lucien comes to rescue her, he finds himself standing beneath mistletoe. He's suddenly suspicious but Elain is looking up at him with such wide eyes that he insists on tradition. They kiss softly and both Lucien and Elain are hanging by the THINNEST of threads.

Elain can't stop thinking about the kiss and when the new year rolls around and they just so happen to be standing by each other, they play it off as circumstance. They kiss...and just barely make it to Lucien's apartment before they're tearing at each others clothes.

"I've wanted you since we were kids," Lucien admits afterwards. Elain laughs. "So have I." They realize how stupid they've been and how much time they wasted assuming the feelings were one sided.

They decided they're going to be together for real, like they should have been years before.

And a year later, when they decide to get married, Nesta and Feyre tell the story of how they tricked their sister and their nieces dad into FINALLY admitting they were in love.

Elain and Lucien aren't even mad about it.

[hops-hunny]

Girls Like Her

Pairing: Kyoya Ootori x Black!Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.7k

Request: N/A

Summary: In which Kyoya is smitten and not afraid to show it.

Warnings: None! Fluff.

A/N: this is so self indulgent and I don't even care I NEEDED some Kyoya with a black girl bc where's all the color in the ouran community??

Kyoya had a fine eye for spectacular things. Running the host club with Tamaki required it. He was always looking for something of interest that he knew the guest would like and that would bring in a nice bit of money as well. That's why he was mesmerized when he saw (Y/n). Sure, Kyoya had seen girls that were deemed "beautiful" by whatever measure of beauty the rest of his high class socialite peers thought. However, he had never put much thought into what he personally found beautiful but now thanks to her, he didn't need to.

Sure he had seen women with nice skin. It wasn't very uncommon. Going to school with girls whose parents made most people's yearly salary in a day meant they were well cared for. They took care of their skin with the finest of products, as did he. However her skin was unmatched. Nice hues of brown which glowed beautifully in the soft daylight of music room 3. Not a blemish or wrinkle in sight. Smooth and brown all over like a bewitching goddess. And sure other girls had hair. It was all a blur to him however, nothing he could point out or was anything but ordinary. All of it was the same straight hair in the same bland style. But hers however?

She wore some of the most elaborate styles he had ever seen. He didn't know the proper names for them at first but the more she visited the host club, the more he'd overhear her speak about them to the other guest. Box braids, goddess twist, faux locs. Each style suited and complimented her well. Anytime she'd change it up he'd observe it carefully, viewing every bump and turn on the art that was her hair. His favorite though was when she'd wear it naturally.

 God was it a sight. A large, picked to perfection afro atop her head like the crown a princess, no, a queen of her caliber should have. It reminded him of the clouds in the sky he'd see on a nice summer afternoon except far more eye catching and far more mesmerizing.

"Tamaki?" Kyoya questioned, looking up at his blonde friend. The last few of the guest had trickled out by now.

"Yes mommy dear?" He quipped, walking over to his raven haired friend.

"Is there a reason we don't see Lady (L/n) any time other than the host club? How come I've never seen her in any of our classes?" He asked, trying to ignore the stupid look Tamaki had on his face.

"Kyoya, are you in love?! Oh how amazing! I always knew this wo-"

"Forget it, this is a waste of time." He began to head to the door but stopped as Tamaki stopped his path.

"Wait! (L/N) as in (Y/n) (L/n) right? She's a year below us, that's why you probably never see her outside of class. We don't have any classes with her except lunch if you count that." Kyoya hummed at the man's words before walking to the door, opening it. 

"Thank you." He said, giving him a nod of acknowledgement.

"No problem, dear friend."

--------------------------

Kyoya stood behind his podium, greeting guests as they came through. He offered each of them the same fake smile he'd give, confirming their host choice for the day. He never cared too much to remember faces, just the different things they'd enjoy and how he could make profit off of them. Well everyone except-

"Kyooo! What's up? How ya doin today?" She chirped, leaning close to him as she offered him a bright smile from behind her supple plump lips. He smiled down at her, a genuine one (not that he'd ever let anyone know that).

"Ah, lady (L/n). A pleasure to see you as always. Your usual I presume?" He said, searching for the twins' names as he went to check the mark.

"Actually I thought I'd switch things up today!"

"Really? Who will it be then?" Whoever it was would be so lucky to be graced with the girl's presence. Her smile grew wider at his question as she leaned even closer.

"You! You do host right? I haven't seen anyone come to you for some time." She mused, resting a brown hand on his arm. Normally he'd remove himself from anyone's touch but for her he didn't mind so much. He'd even go as far as to say he enjoyed it. "Any excuse to stare at that nice face of yours longer."

'The same could be said even more so about you, darling.' Is what he wanted to say but consumed by his own nerves he let them get the best of him. "Usually I find myself too busy to," he started, noticing her face drop, "However I can always make exceptions for ladies of such high beauty as yourself, princess." She smiled, heading over to the empty table that Kyoya rarely hosts at. She sat on the couch across from him, fiddling and moving around as usual. (Y/n) was an unusual energetic girl who found that she couldn't sit still for more than a few seconds, which was a trait that usually drove him up the wall but when it came to her he found it to be quite cute.

“You’re not going to eat or drink anything?” (Y/n) asked, shoving her mouth with the tiny tea cakes that sat on the silver cake stand. Kyoya let a soft smile take his face as he watched her. He always kept them hidden in the back because he knew they were her favorite and they were far more expensive than anything else they served. The cakes themselves were imported from France daily which was obviously a pretty penny but, he didn’t mind. The smile on her face made it worth the extra bit of cash.

“I’m not much of a fan of sugar, it’s bad for your skin.” he stated, looking down at the little black book in his hands. She hummed processing his words before wiping her mouth off with a napkin.

“Well what do you usually drink? I wanna have the same thing as you!”

“I’m a fan of earl grey served black. No sugar, no cream.” he said. She eyed him carefully before giggling. She leaned in close, looking into his dark eyes as he stared back.

“Yeah you seem to be quite the fan of,” she cleared her throat to hide a giggle. “Black things.” Kyoya set his cup down, choking on the liquid. (Y/n) sat back in her seat satisfied, laughing loudly as she threw her head back. A few of the guests stared at her with angry eyes, upset by her mild disturbance. But, she didn’t care. She never did. Once his choking died down, she sent him a wink. “I’m only messing with you, Kyo-chan! Lightin up will yeah? Anyways I’d like to have a cup of what you're drinking. It couldn’t be too bad, right?”

Wrong, she had been deeply wrong. Kyoya smiled in amusement as she sputtered out the tea, coughing dramatically. “Is it not to your liking, dear?” he asked in a sarcastically cheerful tone.

“Like hell it is! This shit is gross.” she began to pout, pushing the cup away from her. “I’d like my usual back please.” she said, looking up at him. He felt his face heat up slightly as he nodded his head, grabbing her cup before heading off with it. He searched the shelves carefully before finding her usual and preparing the way he knew she liked it. Too much sugar and too much cream. He chuckled at the thought, 'it suits her.'

(Y/n) smiled as he returned with her cup taking a sip as she let out a sigh of content. "As much as I'm enjoying my time with you today, my lady, I'm curious about your sudden shift. You always without a doubt choose the twins." He questioned, watching as she delicately set her cup down on the wooden table. He admired her presence. She was graceful but in a way he had never seen before, unique just like everything else about her.

"Do you want the real answer or the fake answer?" She questioned, biting the inside of her cheek nervously. Kyoya had a split second of a confused look before offering her another smile.

"Honestly is the best policy, my dear."

"Well- you see- ugh!" She huffed, slouching back in her seat. He couldn't help but find it adorable how the big ugly yellow dress swallowed her whole during that action. "I always wanna request for you Kyo-chan but you always seem so busy, so distant. I figured I'd let you have your own peace." She leaned forward on her hand as she rested her elbow on the table. "And besides, I've seen you reject to host much prettier girls so why would you host me?"

Kyoya's eyes widened at the (h/c) haired girls announcement. Prettier girls, than her? Too busy, for her? He chuckled some catching the girl's attention. Before she could ask him what was up he began to speak. "I don't mean to laugh in your face princess but I think you've got it twisted." He stood up, pulling the girl close to his chest. The other host watched with wide eyes and their mouths open at Kyoya's uncharacteristic behavior. "There are no prettier girls nor is there anyone I'd rather spend my time with," he tilted her head up bringing his face closer to hers, "Than you." (Y/n) stood there breathless at his words. Her eyes gleamed brightly at his confession.

"Are you busy this weekend?" She asked him faintly.

"Well, I'd have t-"

"Well now you're not. Take me on a date." His eyes widened at her forwardness before laughing softly. She did have a way of doing that, leading the way in any conversation no matter what the topic.

"Are you asking me or telling me?" He teased, pulling back from his hold to push his glasses up his nose. "Either way, alright dear. How could I say no to you?"

Tamaki watched from a far with a hand over his heart, genuine tears falling out of his eyes. In all his time he had known Kyoya, he had never seen him passionate about much of anything. To see his friend so sure of himself, so content in his emotions moved him. Thank god for the sun that had taken away Kyoya from his rainy days.

[likeastarstar]

11:29 PM- Yoongi (ft. Taehyung and Jungkook)

"Can I get a gin twist? Thanks." You mumbled, sliding yoru card across the table, nodding when the bartender asked if you wanted to start a tab.

You stood there, spinning around on your heels, scanning the room while waiting for your drink. This bar wasn't usually this packed. It used to be a little more casual too, nowadays the people here dressed like they were going to be photographed by someone important. It might be time to find a new place to hang out.

"Here you go," The bartender said, recapturing your attention. You turned to thank him, lifting the drink to your lips when someone collided directly into you, pushing you into the bar and sending your drink flying.

Groaning in pain, you pushed back and knocked whoever had collided into you back, "What the hell?" You snapped, whipping your head around.

"Ohhhh shit- I am so sorry, wow that so was not my fault."

You stared at the man standing in front of you as he tried not to laugh, scanning his appearance. He was the kind of hot that clearly got him noticed, the kind of hot that demanded attention. Fluffy brown hair, square jaw, sparkly eyes- if your drink wasn't dripping down your arm you'd be smitten.

"Then who's fault is it? Mine?" You snapped, feeling someone take the drink out of your hand and replace it with another, looking over to the very kind bartender mouthing 'on the house'. You muttered a thanks and refocused your very stern gaze on the manchild in front of you, watching him squirm slightly.

He laughed awkwardly and lifted his hands up in surrender, "That's not what I meant, I just meant that I got pushed myself, by..HERE-"

He cut himself off, looking around wildly before yanking another boy by the collar towards his chest, presenting him like prey to you. You eyed him, noting that he was just as attractive as the first man, round eyes with his hair pulled back into a bun, only a few shorter pieces flopping forward.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't see you standing there and this wouldn't have happened if someone bought me that shot like he promised." He said empathetically, flapping his hands around while he spoke dramatically.

"It's fine," You sighed, looking at each of them blankly. "I have a new drink, my arm is only slightly sticky. At least it wasn't colored liquid."

"Look, let me buy you a shot, I already have to get him one so I might as well properly apologize," The original boy offered, already walking off towards the bar.

The second boy smiled at you gleefully and steered you in the same direction by your shoulders, "I really didn't see you there. You're very small."

"Gee, thanks." You grumbled, chugging half of your drink down just to shake off the irritation creeping up in your chest.

"Cook- tequila?" The first boy asked, shooting a finger gun towards the second one who either worked at a restaurant or Cook really was his name.

Both of them looked at you, staring at you with such eager focus it made the blood rush to your head a little- okay maybe you weren't as unaffected by how hot they were after all. How could you be, when both of them looked like gods?

"S-sure," You shrugged, feeling like a deer in headlights.

"Great, does Yoongi want one? Where'd he go?" The first one asked, scanning somewhere behind you and the cook.

"Just get him one in case, Taehyungie. I'll shoot it for him if he doesn't want it." The cook reasoned, gesturing towards the shot being poured out by the bartender. Neither of them moved to pick it up, instead gesturing for me to reach for it myself.

It was kind of smart, this way you didn't have to worry about them spiking it with anything. You doubted that's why they insisted you pick your own shot, but still, it was smart.

"Jungkook-"

"Yoongi-ah!" The cook smiled- well you guessed that answered that question, "Over here!"

A third boy came into view, of slighter build with blonde hair and a bored expression on his face. His eyes dropped to yours and glanced over your figure, raising his eyebrows slightly but other than that not questioning why you were suddenly with his friends.

"Here, this is yours." said, passing the shot off to Yoongi.

Yoongi took it silently and the four of you downed the shots quickly. The two taller boys reacted to the alcohol dramatically, cringing and whining while your face remained neutral. You teased them for their reaction, not noticing Yoongi's gaze locked on you.

"You're quite good at taking shots, aren't you?" He noted, a small smirk on his face.

You turned your attention to him, pushing the hair off of your shoulder, and matching his smirk with your own. "I'm quite good at a lot of things."

"Oh?" The one called Jungkook gasped, caught off guard by the sudden shift in energy.

"What's happening right now?" Taehyung mumbled, his head ping-ponging back and forth between you and yoongi staring at each other with heated glances.

This was fun- flirting with him. You missed this feeling, the rush of excitement, banter, the build up of tension you felt when you toyed with a man. It had been awhile since someone seemed worth the chase. Yoongi seemed worthy, even if only for the night. He seemed fun.

"I'm stealing your new friend," Yoongi declared, speaking to the other two but keeping his gaze on you. "Wanna dance?"

masterlist.

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

Honeysuckle

hi i have no self control and really really really love tattoo artist!jaskier so here we are again. this is a prequel to the nipple piercings fic wherein geralt is absolutely smitten from day one. not the same vibe but im telling myself thats to be expected bc these take place like five years apart lol

Warnings: tattoos. if they make you squeamish this is not your fic, swearing, mild anxiety, not much else

___________________

Geralt’s palms were sweating when he walked into the little tattoo shop above his favorite deli. The artist he booked was nice enough in the email, and the front desk gal was sweet on the phone, but he’d never gotten a tattoo before and his anxiety was telling him to run home and bury himself under all the blankets he owned. 

A familiar voice greeted him when he came through the door, “Hey! Sweet, you’re early! Jask is just setting up the chair!” 

The coily brown haired receptionist gestured to a black leather couch across the room and Geralt just barely caught a glimpse of tattooed vines from under her hoodie sleeve. He nodded and smiled, taking a seat and trying not to look so stiff. The receptionist called another artist over and Geralt was surprised when the taller, purple eyed woman wrapped her arms around her shoulders and placed a kiss on her cheek as they looked at the monitor. It was the good kind of surprise, Geralt decided, the kind that sets you at ease when you were gearing up for a fight. The receptionist caught his unintentional smile and winked at him before he suddenly found his nail beds fascinating.

“You Geralt?”

His eyes scanned over the man asking from bottom to top and nearly lost his ability to speak, “Hm? Thats me.”

He looked like he came straight form the Seattle grunge scene in the 90’s, but showered and with beautiful floral blackout sleeves up to the wrists on each arm. It seemed the only color over his whole body was the few yellow buttercups scattered through the pattern, ending in a bouquet of all sorts of plants and flowers and herbs at his collar bones, only slightly covered by his Heathers on Broadway tank. 

He flicked his wispy brown hair out of his unreasonably pretty blue eyes and smiled so brilliantly Geralt had to remember to breathe, “I’m Jaskier. Come on back!”

Geralt gave him a curt nod and stood to follow. 

“I hope you brought shorts, it might be a bitch to walk home in that.” Jaskier said, leading him into one of the rooms down a long hallway.

Geralt was suddenly regretting listening to Lambert. He wanted to melt into the floor when he realized he would have to say this to the beautiful tattoo artist’s face, “They uh… they zip away…”

“Oh my god.” Jaskier breathed, finally looking at Geralt’s knees, “I didn’t even know they made those anymore.”

“I swear to god, my brother wears them for work and told me to-”

Jaskier waved his hand, clearly holding back a smile, “No worries, Ron Stoppable.”

Geralt rolled his eyes but couldn’t keep from smiling, “Do you make a habit of making fun of your clients?”

“Only when I’m sure they can handle it,” he teased, “Now off with the hideous zipper pants, I gotta shave your thigh before I start the drawing.”

Once Geralt was shaved and positioned every which way on the table/chair contraption, he finally got to see the rough sketch. The marker felt cool and tickled the back of his knee, but surprisingly to him, he kept up a relaxed conversation, almost flirting before he thought better of it. 

“Do you like where everything is? Want any more grass? Or flowers? Now’s the time for changes, don’t be shy.” 

Geralt turned his leg this way and that, looking at the little blue and purple marks in a band just above his knee in the mirror, “You’re the professional, what do you think?”

Jaskier took a step back and reached for a roll of paper towels and a bottle of rubbing alcohol, “You said this was your first tattoo right?”

Geralt nodded.

“Okay, one less flower on the back then.”

“Why?”

“It’s one of the most painful places to get tattooed.”

“Keep it. I like it.”

Jaskier raised an eyebrow, “Alright, Hot Shot. Face down, we’ll start there first.”

Holy fuck Jaskier was right. Geralt had a high pain tolerance, but this was a whole different kind of pain. He had his arms crossed under his forehead and was doing his best to take deep, even breaths but Jesus Christ, that little chuckle-fuck just kept going over what felt like the same spot. But hell would freeze over before Geralt tapped out, so he forced his breath out and kept going.

“Why honeysuckle?” Jaskier asked as he sat back to dip the machine in more ink.

Geralt took the opportunity to shift a bit and breathe easy before he lied, “Just picked it.”

Jaskier’s hands were back on his thigh, “You don’t have to tell me, it’s just not something I’m asked to do very often. Never for a first tattoo.”

Geralt’s smile turned into a grimace as the needles were back at his skin. Whether it was his sincerity, pretty eyes, or Geralt’s desperate need for a distraction, he bucked up and answered his question, “My- ah, someone told me to find a reminder of things I loved. My horse eats nothing but honeysuckle whenever we go on the trails.”

"That's so fucking cute," Jaskier sighed, still attacking the back of Geralt's leg, "Wouldn't have pegged you for a horse guy. What's their name?" 

The pain was easier to ignore when Geralt was rambling about Roach. Jaskier kept the conversation flowing, maybe indulging Geralt’s ramblings a little too much, but by the time he flipped Geralt over to do the inside of his knee they were joking and swapping disastrous college stories like old friends. They took a snack break where the purple eyed woman, Yennefer he'd learned, made fun of his zip shorts and Triss scolded her. It was nice, he felt oddly at home here with these people he’d just met. 

The front half of the tattoo was nothing compared to the back and Geralt was able to breathe and just chat. He did his best to convince himself that the feeling in his chest wasn’t disappointment when Jaskier finally finished and wrapped his leg in saniderm. 

Jaskier leaned on the front desk while they waited for Geralt’s card to run, "What are you doing after this?" 

Geralt's stomach turned with nervous excitement and he truly didn't know how he got his words to come out so casual, "Was just gonna get some ramen and watch reruns, why?" 

Jaskier worried at his bottom lip as he stapled the receipt to some paperwork, "There's a great ramen place around the corner and I don't have another appointment tonight…" 

Geralt positively beamed, "If you can stand to be seen with someone wearing zipper shorts in public, I'd love to."