#james spending too much money

[lulublack90]

Prompt 16 - Mistake

@jegulus-microfic September 16, Word count 182

“Reg, I’m so sorry. It was a mistake. Please, Reg,” James begged, his heart breaking at the look in Regulus’s eyes. 

“It’s alright,” Remus consoled the other boy, putting an arm around him and leading him away from James. 

“Reg,” James pleaded. Regulus just shook his head and let Remus guide him out of the room. 

James sighed and looked down at the first edition of Regulus’s favourite book with a perfect coffee mug ring on the cover. He winced, he hadn’t meant to do it, he hadn’t been looking and just put the mug down. He pulled out his phone to track down a replacement. He hissed when he saw how much it was worth. He found a signed copy. If he was going to spend a ludicrous amount of money on a book, he might as well get Regulus a better one than the one he'd ruined. He paid extra to get it the next day. He couldn’t cope with seeing Regulus so sad for longer than that. He'd make sure he looked next time before putting a drink down. 

[resident-gay-bitch]

little rich boy sirius who gets disowned and can barely survive without his expensive brands and the basic human need to eat at least once a day meeting the entirely too generous james potter who just falls for the vanity and sincerity of the reformed rich boy and decides that once sirius stops caring about brands and status and rich boy things and just cares about what matters in life he decides to spoil his boyfriend to pieces because he’s secretly sitting on a fucking fortune

[inkdrinkerworld]

hi!! i saw your requests were open but i was wondering if you’d do a high maintenance reader w any of the marauders?? i just realized that i got my hair done, my eyelashes done, my nails done, and a facial all within a week and now im crying because i can’t afford my lifestyle, and also because i didn’t realize i was considered high maintenance until now :/

“We’re not having this conversation again, angel.” James says as he holds your hand on the walk back to the car.

You frown, catching a glimpse at your nails and smiling before frowning again. “But Jamie, it’s every month!”

He opens the back door for you, letting you slide in before he gets in himself.

Remus is driving while Sirius sits in the passenger seat, hair held back a bun that’s not very effective but makes him all the more handsome.

“It’s not a problem, sweet girl.” James steals a kiss. “We don’t mind.” Remus catches a glimpse at you in the rear view mirror.

“What’s wrong dove?” You pout, not really upset with them but upset at what you realized halfway through your nail appointment.

“All three of you always pay for my things,” All the boys frown, they don’t see the issue. You sigh, your fists banging on your exposed knees under your skirt.

“Every time I have an appointment, one of you comes just to pay. Doesn’t that make you feel gross? Like you’re just here to maintain me?”

Sirius turns to face you first. He’s not the best with words, but he’s always able to get to you faster than the other boys.

“Why would we feel gross about taking care of you? You’re not a thing to maintain and even if we do pay for your things it doesn’t mean it’s a burden.”

Remus nods at Sirius’ words, “We don’t come just to pay either. We like seeing you get all dolled up, lovely girl. It’s a treat for us as much as it is for you.”

You roll your eyes, disbelieving, “Just this week, I’ve done my hair, had a facial, got waxed and did my nails and you all paid for something.”

Remus nods, driving effortlessly while holding your eyes in the rear view. “We like taking care of you dove. You never ask for us to do it, we just do because it makes us feel good.”

James nods, lips to your temple. “It does. So what if you go do a million procedures a month? Just as long as we get to finance it.”

You sigh long and hard, “But it’s so much.”

Remus shakes his head, voice soothing even as he maneuvers the car through traffic, “Baby, we all argue about who gets to pay for what. It’s not too much for us, we want to keep doing it.”

Sirius cuts you a hard look from the passenger side when he catches your eye roll, “Poppet,” he leans around the seat to look you in the eyes. “We like maintaining you. We like spending our money on you when you want to do something, that’s not an issue to us, got it?”

James speaks softly when you don’t answer, “S’like Remus said, angel. No sense in making yourself feel bad for something we’d practically fight each other to do, yeah?”

You nod, a little bashful under his gaze and when he beckons you forward with his chin, you nearly scramble across the middle seat to kiss him.

Sirius’ hands tangle in your hair and you pull away, “I just got it done yesterday, Siri.” He smiles, all wicked and best pleased.

“And you look all the more gorgeous.” He steals another kiss just as Remus pulls up to your brunch destination. “Now c’mon, we’ve got to show you off after all this.”

Remus turns your face before you get too far, stealing a couple kisses for himself. “No more worrying about us taking care of you, yeah?”

You’re dazed and kisses silly, “Yeah, Remmy.” James gets his kisses last and you have to wait ten minutes in the backseat before getting out with any of them while you hide a smile.

[aurynsia]

what would be the life after hogwarts for james and reader? i can just imagine james thinking of the best ring he could give reader to ask her to marry him, or even like thinking of where they should live in.

Life After Hogwarts

James Potter x Reader

Summary: James won’t settle for anything less than perfect for his perfect girl...

Warnings: Intense fluff, Reader is referred to with she/her pronouns, James is just a good hearted rich boy who wants the best for his partner <3

Word Count: 1.1K

Masterlist

A/N: Thank you for the request! I wrote this as a sequel to this series, but it can just as easily be read as a stand alone oneshot. Enjoy!

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

“Pads, please focus here. This is serious!”

“No, I’m Sirius, born and raised! Are you sure you aren’t feeling lightheaded, Prongs?”

James and Sirius stood bent over the cabinet of delicate rings, the latter struggling to free himself from a ring size too small. James huffed in frustration, brows furrowed in contemplation as he glanced across the display one last time.

“None of them feel right, I’m telling you! We‘ll just have to find somewhere else, she won’t like how flashy all of these diamonds are,” James sulked and grumbled as Sirius finally eased the ring off of his nimble finger.

“Prongs, this is the fifth jeweller we’ve been to in the past four hours. Merlin, the sun is already setting and you haven’t even considered a single one of the more than acceptable rings we’ve looked at!”

Sirius scrambled to chase James out of the store, pace quickened along the damp concrete of the sidewalk.

“It needs to be perfect, she’s perfect. I will settle for no less.” James held his head high, nose turned upwards at the raven haired boy who grew visibly sluggish with every step.

Sirius groaned, only following his bespectacled friend for another quick moment before James stopped abruptly at a pawn shop window, eyes bursting wide with hope.

The ring in the window shone elegantly against the store’s harsh light. The metal twisted and turned in a smooth curve that was sure to make your skin glow radiantly in contrast. It was understated, with only the minor details in the engravings making a quiet display of the mountain of money James was about to spend.

“That’s the one. It’s perfect.”

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

The cool breeze wrapped around the Potter’s summer house with ease, pressing against your skin to form goosebumps along the soft surface.

James had been acting strangely all day, almost avoiding you at every turn of the house’s walls like his life depended on it. He fiddled with his fingers, stuttered out his words and blushed at every subtle sound of amusement you made.

Finally relaxing into your side, James sheltered you from the wind with his body on his family’s beach-side deck. Your evening beverage was pressed between your legs, freeing your hands to run soothing circles over your boyfriend’s back.

His eyes clenched shut, head growing wrinkles as he sought his trademark courage that seemed to all but disappear the moment you were near.

Slowly, tentatively, he lifted his body from your warmth, flashing you a sympathetic smile to compensate for the absolute fool he was about to make of himself.

“Love, I- you mean the world to me…” he turned to face you. “These past years with you have made for some of the happiest moments I’ve ever experienced…” he shifted to lift up onto his knees, gazing down at your curious expression.

“I love you so, so much. I loved you when I first met you, the shy girl on the Hogwarts express. I loved you when we started dating, all smiles over candle lit dinners, and…” He moved again, down on one knee. “I want to keep loving you when you marry me.”

You gasped at the genuine glaze of his soft brown eyes, his lean towards your stationary body, and the ring sat in his grasp, shrouded by a velvet box.

He coughed slightly at the awkward atmosphere, repeating himself with clarity. “Will you…marry me?”

“Godric, James- yes!”

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

Fleamont Potter was showering his son with engagement gifts. James never had any reason to complain about his family or economic situation, and to say he grew up comfortably would be a drastic understatement.

House hunting was James’ first protocol after his successful proposal. He had patiently listened to you ramble about your dream house for years, trying to stay focused under your captivating gaze and endearing energy. Big windows, lots of light, and a burning fireplace.

That’s exactly what James was searching for as he strolled down the streets of Godric’s Hollow. He had inspected every single house he could find, taken or not. The day was wearing out, washing lines already dried under the subtle summer heat.

His gaze fell in a wave of sluggish fatigue, only to be snapped open by the sight of a Southern-style mansion positioned right on the edge of Godric’s Hollow, towering over the sidewalk. The house was decorated with shutters and balconies, as well as a small red sign in the front yard.

FOR SALE.

He rushed to the front door, conveniently propped open. “It’s a beautiful place, really, but we’re after something a little more…modern.” A family glided past James in a pack, concluding what he could only assume to be a tour of the house.

The estate agent fixed his tie as he bid farewell to the family, promising something about searching closer to the city the following week. He spun around to find James gawking eagerly at the front door, before clearing his throat to gain the young Potter’s attention.

“Would you like a tour?”

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

James flashed you a smug smile as you gazed in awe at the intricate architecture of your new townhouse. You were perched on the front lawn, tucked into James’ side with his hand on the small of your back.

“It’s so beautiful…” you mused wistfully, gaze drawn to the rustic tiles on the roof like sunflowers to the sun. “You didn’t have to go through all this trouble, I mean- this must have been an absolute pain to buy…” you finally tilted your gaze to see James peering over you, a lovesick longing painted on his features.

“Love, my father knows people - too many to count - who were more than happy to help with this little engagement gift,” he chuckled, eyes still locked on yours. “When I saw this house for the first time…it was calling your name. Our names.”

The house was big enough to hold a few kids and some small pets - clearly too big for just you and James, but he hoped that your family would fill it out in the coming years. There needed to be room for at least one big black dog.

Still uncertain, you gave James a sceptical look. “It was no trouble, really.” He didn’t wait for a reply as he drove you through the open door by your shoulders.

You stumbled through each room, captivated by the warmth in every corner you turned to. James was hot on your heels, guiding you by your waist every now and then to show you specific features of the kitchen, the bathrooms and the already decorated master bedroom.

You jumped onto the bed with glee, warmth engulfing you under your body.

“Jamie…it’s perfect…” you mused, eyes shut as you felt the bed dip with your Fiancée’s weight, who shifted to kiss your forehead with care.

“You’re perfect, love.”

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

[moonstruckme]

Happy birthday and congratulations on 7k!! You deserve it. Thank you for sharing your gift for writing with us <3

Can I request apple pie- James potter + an airport terminal at midnight

I once saw a guy at the airport who looked a bit like James but I was looking busted and severely hungover from my last night of spring break to talk to him 😅

Thank you for requesting lovely!!

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 688 words

“Excuse me.” 

The voice is soft but still you wake with something like a growl brewing in your chest, fingers tightening possessively around the strap of your backpack. There’s a boy with brown eyes and a strong chin looking at you concernedly from behind a pair of glasses. 

“Sorry,” he says, setting a hand on your suitcase. You’ve got your leg hooked through the handle, but he doesn’t look like he’s trying to steal it, only resting his hand there. “Would you like this?” He holds up a clumped-up mass of fabric. 

You blink at him, trying to puzzle out whether he’s really making no sense or whether you’re just that tired. 

“For your head,” the boy clarifies. “You just, you don’t look very comfortable.” 

You lift your head, feeling the imprint that something poking through your backpack has left in your cheek. “Sorry,” you say blearily. “I don’t understand.” 

“That’s my fault,” he owns immediately. “Sorry, I meant would you like to use my hoodie as a pillow? So you can sleep properly.” 

“Oh.” You still feel odd, and it doesn’t help that this is the sort of thing that might usually only happen in a dream. Since when do attractive strangers walk up to you in airports? “Um, thank you, but you don’t have to.” 

“No, it’s really alright.” With your head lifted, he starts positioning it atop your backpack, fluffing it as though it’s a real pillow. “It’s my spare. I’m warm enough without it, see?” He gestures to the hoodie he’s wearing as if to demonstrate. It’s a deep red color that looks nice against his warm skin. He does look very warm, overall. “Anyways, there.” He steps back, grinning almost bashfully as he takes a seat across from you. “Now hopefully you can sleep better.” 

“Thank you,” you say quietly. 

He nods, still smiling much too brightly for this hour of night (or morning, you suppose. Is it morning yet?). 

You close your eyes, trying to ignore how pleasantly warm your makeshift pillow is, like he’s been carrying it around in his arms all day. It smells nice, too, the scent of a shampoo you vaguely recognize and also pine, maybe picked up from wherever he’s coming from. You open your eyes again. 

“When’s your flight?” 

He looks back at you, pulling his headphones off one ear. 

“When’s your flight?” you ask again. “So I can make sure to give it back in time.” 

“Oh, not for a few hours yet.” He waves you off. His headphones come down around his neck. “We’re suffering delays. When’s yours?” 

“Five-thirty.” You feel weary at the thought of it, though you can’t wait to get out of here. You’ve been dying to leave this airport since you’d arrived, grievously regretting your decision to save money on a hotel for the last night of your trip. 

He makes a sympathetic hissing noise. “That sounds truly awful. Early bird gets the worm, though?” 

“Something like that.” 

He smiles, and maybe it’s the fluorescent lighting but you think that if you weren’t already lying down it would take your knees out from under you. “I’m James.” 

You tell him your name, and he nods like he’s tucking it away. 

“Are you going on holiday?” he asks, crossing one of his legs under him, getting comfortable. 

“Sort of,” you reply. “I’m going to see my mum. But she makes it feel like a holiday.” Something softens around James' eyes, and for reasons unknown it makes your face warm. “Where are you headed?” 

“My best mates are spending the holiday in France. They’ve spared me a pullout couch.” James tilts his head, looking far more content than anyone traveling at this hour ought to be. You wonder if his lips just lie in a permanent uptilt. “So where you’re going to visit your mum, is that where you’re from?” 

You reposition your backpack so you’re propped up a bit more, James’ hoodie still under your cheek but suddenly feeling less keen on sleeping the hours until your flight away. Oddly, you’re no longer dying to leave this airport quite so badly.

[punkshort]

Roommates | 10. just us two

Pairing: (ex)pornstar!joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: You and Joel settle into your new lives together.

Chapter Warnings: language, alcohol and food consumption, massive quantities of fluff, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex (reader is on BC), oral sex (f!receiving), spanking, pussy pronouns, multiple orgasms, some sex tape action 👀

WC: 7.1K

A/N: Okay, we've reached the end of the road for these two! I can't believe I'm wrapping up another fic, jfc. Thank you so much for sticking around and expressing so much love and excitement for this story. It means so much to me that I'm able to share this part of myself with people who are just as happy as me about these characters. This chapter wasn't really necessary, most loose ends are already tied up but they deserved to be happy, so this entire chapter is just love and fluff and smut. Shout out to @txtattoostark for listening to me yap and for the watermelon moonshine inspo. Enjoy, and thanks again ❤️

Series Masterlist

One Month Later

Joel smiled to himself as he watched you in the kitchen with his mom from his spot in the living room. The old radio next to the sink, dusty and missing two buttons, was softly playing jazz music while you both worked on dinner. It wasn't the trailer park he grew up in. The small ranch house his mother bought with the life insurance money she received after his father passed away wasn't too bad. He begged her for years to let him give her some money, to buy her a place closer to town, to pay for new appliances at the very least, but she always refused. Instead, he found himself visiting her whenever he had a few days off so he could fix the sink or the washer or cut the grass.

He didn't mind. It was a good excuse to come visit. He enjoyed catching up and spending time with her.

But now, with you? Watching the way you seamlessly moved around the kitchen, laughing with his mom and stirring things in pots while swaying your hips in those tight denim shorts... yeah, this was different. This was much better.

"Hey, brother," Tommy said from behind, startling him out of his rosy daydream. Joel stood with a smile to engulf Tommy in a hug once he kicked off his shoes.

"You look tan," he remarked, then reached for Maria and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"New Orleans was sunny," Tommy said, holding some bottle of clear alcohol in his hand. "Brought back some moonshine. Watermelon. Mama's favorite."

"Oh, Tommy! Maria! You're back!" their mother cried from the kitchen before wiping her hands on a towel and hurrying over to the front door, her worn out blue slippers catching on the rug as she walked. "How was your honeymoon?" she asked after she squeezed them both within an inch of their lives.

"Amazing," Maria said happily. "We had such a great time. Have you ever been?"

Mrs. Miller shook her head. "Maybe James will take me one day."

"Is he here?" Tommy asked, handing his mother the liquor.

"No, he's visiting his daughter out of town this weekend. Come on, I have some snacks out."

The four of them entered the kitchen and you swiveled around with a big smile. Setting down the wooden spoon you were holding, you threw your arms around Maria's neck, then Tommy's.

"How was it?" you asked them, your eyes sparkling with excitement.

You and Maria fell into an animated conversation about some haunted ghost tour when Tommy cleared his throat and propped his hands on his hips.

The pair of you stopped talking to look at him questioningly, then realization dawned on you. You smirked and shook your head before digging into your back pocket to pull out a folded bill and slapped it into his palm.

"You were right, Tommy."

He laughed and tucked the money into his shirt pocket.

"Thought you mighta forgot."

Joel frowned and looked between the two of you curiously, but Maria seemed to know exactly what was going on because she was already chuckling to herself.

You glanced over at Joel, who was eating a cracker with cheese, and your expression softened. "Best hundred bucks I ever lost."

"The hell you givin' him a hundred bucks for?" Joel asked incredulously, but you just slipped your arms around his waist and rested your chin against his chest with a smile.

"I lost a bet," you told him.

He practically melted into a puddle under your touch. He couldn't get enough. After a year of denying yourselves or sneaking around, it felt so good to be open. He refused to ever take it for granted, so he tilted your face up and pressed a tender kiss against your lips. He felt your mouth twitch into a smile when Tommy groaned in fake disgust.

"Thought we were the newlyweds here."

You broke the kiss to shoot him a look over your shoulder.

"Try and keep up."

Joel tossed his head back and laughed, then released his hold on you so you could return to the stove. Maria washed her hands and picked up a knife to chop vegetables and Tommy reached for the bottle of moonshine their mother left on the counter.

"Let's crack into this," he said, and Joel nodded. He weaved through the kitchen to open up the cupboard where the glasses were kept, grabbing five tumblers. You were swaying again with the music and you gently knocked into him with your hips, just enough to tease him, and he sucked in a sharp breath.

"Watch yourself, baby," he warned with a wink before placing the glasses down next to Tommy so he could pour.

Joel couldn't remember a time he had seen his mother look so happy. The five of them sat around her dining room table, a table made for four but you all squeezed in, knees knocking together underneath, arms brushing against one another, and it felt perfect.

He leaned back in his chair after finishing his food, one arm draped along the back of your chair, his other hand loosely holding his glass of moonshine and he smiled. He tried to pay attention to Maria and his brother tell stories about their honeymoon, but he had a hard time looking away from you. Eventually, he stopped trying. His gaze slid down your face, admiring your smile and the way your eyes crinkled when you laughed.

He was so fucking lucky.

Tearing his eyes away to bring his glass to his lips, he caught his mother watching him across the table with a knowing smile. She winked at him before giving Tommy her attention once again and Joel felt his face warm.

Once dinner was over, he and Tommy stood to clear everyone's plates. A habit that was formed early on in their lives. Whoever didn't cook had to clean up.

After the dishes were done and the leftovers were packed away, the two brothers refilled their glasses and wandered out to the back porch where their mother, you and Maria had ended up.

Maria and Mrs. Miller were strolling around the yard, their mother pointing out plants and flowers and telling Maria some long winded story about each. The deer hate this one. Cindy up the street cut a chunk of this out of her garden for me, can you believe how big it is now? I got this from Home Depot on clearance half dead, look how good it's doing.

"Better go save her," Tommy murmured before jogging down the steps. Joel plopped himself next to you on the porch with a sigh and clinked your glasses together.

"Lucky you already got the flower tour earlier," he told you.

You bit your lip and chuckled. "She really loves her garden."

The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes. The sun was setting and you could hear the crickets coming to life all around you. Birds swooped anxiously overhead, rushing back to their nests for the night. A cool breeze floated through the air, rustling your hair and making you shiver.

"C'mere," he murmured, patting his thigh. You smirked and shook your head but put your glass down and stood to perch on his leg, wrapping your arms around his neck lovingly and giving him a chaste kiss.

He hummed in approval and licked his lips. "Taste good."

"Like watermelon?" you asked, fingers twisting around the long strands of hair on the back of his head.

He nodded. "And you."

You kissed him once again, lingering a bit longer that time so you could fully appreciate the softness of his lips between yours and breathing in deep the scent of soap still stuck to his skin.

Then voices began to grow louder behind you, indicating your alone time was coming to an end.

Tommy stumbled on the stairs leading up the porch and you turned around on Joel's lap. He wrapped his arms around your waist, keeping you right where you were, before teasing his brother.

"Better take it easy. You been out for two weeks at work, you ain't callin' in tomorrow 'cause you're hungover."

Tommy rolled his eyes and took your abandoned chair.

"Yes, boss."

"How are things at the bar, Joel?" his mother asked, sitting down with a sigh. "I'm so glad you found some work I can actually tell my girlfriends about without lying."

You stifled a giggle and glanced at Maria, who was also trying to hold back her laughter.

"Good, Mama," Joel said, ignoring her other comment. His chin came to rest over your shoulder as he spoke. "The remodel is done. Opened up the room so there's a place to dance. Easier for customers to move around. Everyone's been real excited to see the changes. Been busy."

"He's been working so hard, too," you added, twisting to your side so your fingers could lovingly rake through the hair on the back of his neck. "Some days I don't even see him."

Mrs. Miller gave you a sympathetic look but you could tell she was proud of her oldest son for venturing outside his comfort zone and applying himself.

"So you're all moved in, I take it?" Maria asked, and you nodded.

"Didn't really have much. Most of my things were still packed from when I moved out."

"She's been sprucin' up the place, too. You oughta see it," Joel said fondly. "Got pretty lookin' art on the walls, fluffy pillows and blankets for the couch. Actually got some food in the damn fridge, too."

Tommy laughed heartily. "That mean you'll stop swipin' fries and shit from the kitchen?"

"Hey, I'm payin' for those fries. I'll take 'em if I want 'em," he said with a scowl, then looked up at you, his eyes softening. "But it's nice to have dinner waitin' for me at home," he added, bringing a smile to your face.

"You were always terrible at cooking," you teased, tugging on his earlobe playfully between your fingers.

The night dragged on, the stars lit up the quiet night sky and Mrs. Miller eventually began to yawn, indicating it was time to head home.

Home.

It felt so right to think of it that way. It was where you belonged. But you knew it wasn't simply the house. You could have been living in a shack and you would still be just as happy because it was with him.

Joel gripped your thigh while he drove his truck with one hand on the steering wheel. The windows were down, the wind whipped at your face, tangling your hair when you turned your head to gaze over at him.

"See anythin' you like?" he teased when he spotted you admiring him from the corner of his eye.

You giggled and felt his fingers squeeze your bare leg.

"You know what I want?"

The corner of his mouth tugged upwards and his eyes darkened with excitement. "What's that, sweetheart?"

You seductively ran your palm up his arm, sighing at the way his muscles twitched under your fingertips.

"I would really, really love... a vegetable garden."

You laughed at the way his face fell in mock disappointment.

"I'll build you a vegetable garden," he finally said as he turned onto your street.

"Really?" you asked with a huge smile. He nodded and shot you a wink.

"'Course. Whatever you want, baby."

Joel stayed true to his word. About a week later you woke up on Saturday morning to the distant sound of a hammer beating a piece of wood in the backyard. Stretching a lazy arm out to your side, you pouted when you found Joel was missing.

Then the pieces slowly clicked together.

It was a rare weekend off for him. You had been talking about it for the past few days. He was looking forward to Tommy returning to work so he wouldn't be so short staffed and he could relax with you for two whole days. You didn't come up with any plans except laying in bed, ordering takeout and watching movies, content to just spend time together. But Joel sweetly surprised you by waking up early, something he absolutely detested, so he could build you the vegetable garden you asked for.

You lightly padded down the steps still clad in your tank top and shorts to grab a mug from the cupboard. The coffee pot sizzled with heat when you plucked it from the burner, half the liquid already gone. Once you fixed it the way you liked, you walked out onto the back deck and leaned over the railing, your mug cupped in both hands, to fully appreciate the sight before you.

Joel had his back to you as he crouched over a simple rectangular wooden frame on the ground. You could see the sweat collecting on the back of his neck and it made your mouth water. As your eyes traveled lower, you noticed the dark patches in his shirt forming at his collar and between his shoulder blades, making your thighs clench together while he worked, completely oblivious to you watching him, listening to him grunt and sigh when he lifted a new piece of wood.

You swallowed thickly before taking a sip of your coffee, your eyes never leaving his form while he stood to stretch his back. He lifted his hat from his head and wiped his brow with the back of his forearm and you sunk your teeth into your lower lip. Something was so fucking hot about him getting all sweaty and worked up, but on that particular day? When he was making you something, sacrificing his rare down time just for you? It lit a fire inside you that couldn't be tamed.

Before he noticed, you scooted back inside to fill up a glass of ice water. With your hand hovering over the door handle, you got an idea that sent a jolt of arousal right through you. Without giving yourself a chance to overthink it, you pulled down your shorts and underwear, kicking your panties off to land on the couch, and shimmied your shorts back on.

Your pulse was fucking racing with excitement when you stepped outside once again, but this time you made sure to make a little noise so Joel would hear you. When the door clicked shut, he turned around and grinned before setting down his tools and stepping into the shade.

"Thank you, darlin'," he murmured when you handed him the water.

"You're welcome," you replied, your hands clasping behind your back as you practically vibrated in place with nervous energy. His eyes flicked down your body curiously right when he was finishing up his drink.

"Sleep okay?" he asked, sensing something was off while he set the glass down on the deck.

"Mhmm," you said, a nervous grin spreading across your face. "Missed you, though."

He chuckled and wiped some sweat away from his face with the bottom of his shirt. Your mouth went dry and your eyes instantly locked onto his tanned stomach and the dark smattering of curls that led below his waistband. The sleep shorts you were wearing were thin. If they were a lighter color, you could probably see right through them if you really looked. As it turned out, they were also terrible at absorbing moisture because they were sticking uncomfortably to your inner thighs while you waited for him to notice.

"Huh?" you said when you realized he was speaking.

He shook his head and dropped his shirt back down. "I said, I'm makin' you the damn garden you wanted."

You inched forward and took his hand in yours. "Well, do you think it can wait? Because I need to show you something inside that needs your help."

Somehow, he was still not picking up what you were implying.

"Baby, I'm on a roll. I just need another hour, maybe two-"

You tugged the hand you were holding between your legs and his eyes widened when he felt the wetness waiting for him there.

"Sorry. Got tired of being subtle," you told him with a playful smirk. He whipped his head around, checking to see if any of the neighbors were out tending to their lawns or enjoying their morning coffee on their patios while his fingers hooked around the soaked material.

You saw in his face the exact moment he realized you were bare underneath your shorts. It was like his brain was buffering, desperately trying to calculate how long he allowed you to stand there practically begging to be fucked while he rambled on about a goddamn garden. The surprise in his features slowly faded into the hazy, lust filled gaze you were so familiar with, and you smiled triumphantly.

"Get your ass inside right fuckin' now before I do somethin' that'll get us both thrown in jail," he growled, something primal shifting in his face while his body flooded with arousal, his need for you dripping heavier in his veins with each steady beat of his heart.

You squeaked and covered your ass when he swat at you from behind, then you hurried past him, back into the house.

Looking back on it, to think you would have made it upstairs to your bedroom was comical. His hands grabbed your hips halfway up the carpeted steps, pulling you down as you laughed giddily and pretended to try to fight off his attack, clawing fruitlessly at the stairs while he smiled into your lower back where his mouth was alternating kisses and bites across your skin.

"You wanted attention, you got it," he mumbled before yanking your shorts down and sinking his teeth into the flesh of your ass. Not enough to really hurt, but enough to make you yelp in surprise and leave a few linear indents in your skin.

Joel usually took his time with you. He preferred it that way. He liked to watch your face as he tormented you between your legs. He liked to see what new sounds he could pull from your throat when he changed an angle.

But not that day.

No, that day he yanked your shorts all the way off, tossing them over his shoulder and down the steps before grabbing your hips with his hands, all rough and sweaty from working outside.

You braced yourself for the inevitable stretch, the welcome yet slightly painful intrusion that you yearned for, but what happened next shocked you.

Your eyes widened and you gasped when you felt his mouth descend on your pussy from behind, his tongue immediately setting an intense pace, which was a change from the way he usually ate you. But speed and passion weren't the only variation. He never, ever went down on you from behind before.

"I- J-Joel, what are... oh," you moaned, eyes fluttering closed as he lapped eagerly at your core. Instinctively, you spread your hips and sunk down further onto his mouth. Your cheek was rubbing harshly against the carpet and your lips were parted, allowing a small trail of drool to trickle down your chin. If you had any awareness left, you might have cared, but the pleasure he was building between your legs left your brain completely numb.

"Oh, fuck yes, Joel - keep going, just like that," you groaned, reaching behind you blindly to grab a fistful of his hair. "Fuck you and that fucking mouth," you gasped when his tongue flatted against your clit. He chuckled against your core but didn't stop. His hand slid up the back of your thigh and gave your cheek a firm jiggle before smacking his palm down across your ass. You jolted forward, your forehead bumping up against the next step, and cried out for more so he did it again, but on the other side.

"You like that?" he panted, pulling away from you for just a moment to catch his breath. You arched your back, giving him a generous view of the mess he left between your legs and he was afraid for the first time ever that he might come completely untouched. He inhaled sharply and pinched the bridge of his nose when he saw your cunt pulse, calling to him like a goddamn siren at sea. "Fuck, so beautiful," he growled before closing his eyes and picking up right where he left off.

His thumbs spread your lips so his tongue could tease your entrance, scooping up your arousal and rutting his hips against the stairs, eating you like he was about to go off to war.

"I'm... oh, shit, Joel!" you exclaimed, pulling at his hair roughly so he wouldn't dare try to stop when you were so close to your climax. And he could sense it. He was good at that. He knew what you needed sometimes before you even knew. So once again, he brought his palm down sharply across your ass, a little harder that time but not too much. Just enough to leave a few seconds of sting, electrifying your nerve endings and pulling you over the edge.

Two tears rolled down your cheeks when you came. The little bit of pain from his hand and the carpet digging into your cheek and knees mixed with your pleasure in such a way that it left you breathless.

Finally, once he felt your legs begin to tremble and whimpers fell from your lips, he pulled away with a deep gasp. His eyes were pinned to the way your pussy looked; all drenched with a combination of his spit and your release, and he cursed under his breath.

"She looks so fuckin' good, baby, wish you could see what I see," he murmured, mesmerized as he continued to stare without any shame. You hardly had any of your senses. Your breath was ragged and your throat was dry but still, you tilted your chin and whispered, "show me."

A wide smile stretched across his face and his eyes lit up.

"Yeah? You'd let me take a picture of this pretty pussy?" he asked, but he was already digging in his back pocket for his phone. You nodded, eyes still closed.

When both his hands left your waist, you arched your back a bit more and spread your legs, presenting yourself to him. You heard a deep groan rumble from his chest and he whispered, "fuckin' natural, baby," before you heard the shutter on his phone. One, two, three times at least you heard the familiar little click, click, then he leaned over your slumped body and slid his phone in front of your face.

"See? Look at you. Look at what I get to see," he murmured into your ear. Your eyes opened and widened as you stared at your wrecked pussy on the screen.

"Oh, wow," you breathed, not expecting at all to find it sexy, but you did. You fucking did. "Look at what you did to me," you said, craning your neck over your shoulder. His eyes flickered with heat and his mouth crashed down onto yours.

"Just wait til I split you open on my cock," he said, his voice rumbling against your back. "Have you all stuffed full with my cum. Now that's a pretty sight."

You groaned and shakily pushed yourself up.

"I'm begging you, please, Joel... do not fuck me on these stairs. My knees are killing me."

He laughed and helped you stand, legs wobbling just a little.

"Nah. I got an idea and we can't do it here."

You laid underneath the covers in bed, your lower half still bare and your tank top still on while you nervously chewed on your lower lip, watching Joel at the foot of the bed tinker with a camcorder he had buried somewhere in his closet that he swore up and down he never used with anyone else.

Never wanted to before, he had said when you eyed it suspiciously after he explained he swiped it from a set when it was used as a prop in one of his films years ago.

"Battery's dead but I'll just leave it plugged in," he said, then he flipped out the little screen tucked into the side of the device and swiveled it around so it was facing out. He set it on his end table and adjusted it until he was satisfied with the angle, then looked over his shoulder with a grin.

"You sure?" he clarified again. Your eyes flickered from him to the camera, then back again.

"Yeah," you squeaked, your voice very clearly betraying you. His gaze softened and he leaned across the bed to press a chaste kiss against your forehead.

"We don't gotta do this," he assured you. "I don't wanna make you uncomfortable."

"No," you replied, shaking your head. "I want to, I'm just nervous."

He scoffed and readjusted himself so he was lying next to you, blocking the idle camera.

"Nothin' to be nervous 'bout. It's just for me 'n you," he murmured before cupping your face and pressing his lips tenderly against yours. When his tongue swiped over your bottom lip, you sighed and looped your arms around his neck, melting into his embrace and deepening the kiss. His hand slid down from your cheek to squeeze your breast, groaning a little when he pinched your nipple through the fabric of your tank top.

His lips dragged down to your jaw, his teeth grazing your throat until he found a spot he liked and latched on while pushing the sheets from your body. The anticipation bubbled up while his hand continued to travel lower, your legs instinctively falling open for him. You finally relaxed when he successfully distracted you with his fingers through your folds and gasped as he slid two inside you with ease.

"Oh, yeah, you're ready for me," he moaned into your neck, his erection bordering on painful. He exhaled shakily when one of your hands wrapped around his length and began to gently stroke him, your palm so soft and warm that he almost forgot about the camera.

"C'mon, baby, sit up f'me," he said, pulling his hand from between your legs and leaning back so he could kick his jeans off. You scrambled to sit, your breaths coming in shallow pants as you watched him tug his shirt over his head. When he reached for the hem of your tank top, he paused and turned to tap the record button on the camcorder. Instantly, your limbs went rigid and your hands fell to your lap, covering yourself, but when he turned back to you he pinched your chin in his fingers, pulling your nervous gaze from the camera lens.

"Eyes on me," he told you, his voice low and deep, sending a shiver down your spine.

You nodded and raised your arms so he could peel off your tank top. He tossed it onto the floor and sat back on his heels to admire the way your tits sat exposed to him, his eyes darkening when your nipples hardened with arousal. He lunged forward and took one in his mouth, his hot, wet tongue lavishing your pebbled skin before switching to the other one. You tipped your head back and moaned, mouth open as you stared up blankly at the ceiling, your fingers rising to get tangled in his hair.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, planting little kisses all over your chest and circling his arms around your ribs, tugging you closer. You wrapped your legs around his waist, trembling when his cock pressed between your bodies, his erection sliding through your wet heat and suddenly you couldn't breathe.

"I-I need you," you whimpered, weakly lifting your hips into his lap.

"I know, baby, I know," he hummed. One hand dropped to cup your ass so he could reposition his legs underneath you, then flexed his hips so the tip of his cock lined up with your opening. "Want me to fuck you just like this? Sittin' in my lap?"

You nodded, your eyelids heavy with desire as you tightened your grip around his neck. The second he pressed into you, you gasped. He watched with adoration as your eyebrows pinched together in concentration, breathing deep and slow as you relaxed and slowly took him.

"Joel," you whispered, jaw slack. "Joel, I love you."

He moaned and pulled your hips flush with his, forcing you to take the last few inches all at once. "I love you, too, baby. Christ, you're incredible. Fuckin' look at you."

Look at you. His words made you remember the camera. Your eyes flickered over to the little rectangular screen, the outline of your bodies perfectly centered, and you swallowed tightly.

"Pretend like it's the mirror," he whispered in your ear as he began to gently rock in and out, "just like the mirror at the hotel, okay?"

You nodded and sighed, your shoulders loosening and your muscles relaxing as you began to roll your hips in rhythm with his. He tightened his grip around your middle, his body engulfing you in warmth. You rested your head on his shoulder as he continued to fuck you nice and slow, stretching you out around him, reaching depths that had you reeling.

This was it. There was nothing else outside those four walls. You had everything you ever wanted right there. The way he kissed you, touched you, made love to you always left you feeling so safe. Deep down, you always knew he was the missing piece in your life, the mysterious thing you kept searching for in others and were always left disappointed. Because nobody else ever loved you and cared for you the way he did.

"I'm so lucky to have you," you told him, your tongue dragging up his neck, collecting the dried sweat with a moan. You began to bounce in his lap a little faster and he immediately matched your pace with thrusts of his own.

"I'm the one who's lucky," he said through clenched teeth. He exhaled heavily through his nose and tucked his chin to his chest so he could watch himself disappear inside your cunt. "So soft. Softest pussy. So fuckin' warm and wet, you feel so good. Goddamnit, every fuckin' time..."

You smiled to yourself as you listened to him ramble. "Maybe we're both lucky."

He chuckled and you gasped when his cock brushed up against that one spot that made you see stars. You feverishly grabbed his face with both hands and bit desperately at his lower lip, pulling it between your teeth and making him groan.

Your body was loose and pliant now, so with more confidence you quickened the roll of your hips, relishing in the way his cock felt dragging in and out of you, how your clit rubbed against the coarse hair at his base, in the noises you managed to pull from his throat each time your skin slapped together.

"Yeah, that's it, baby. Show me what you like. Oh, good girl," he groaned, hands sliding up your back to hold you as you began to lose yourself. He could see it in the look in your eyes and the way your fingers dug into his shoulders.

It was the most beautiful fucking thing.

Your body moved perfectly in tandem with his, your sharp gasps and his deep groans filling the room, the camera long forgotten by now.

"Oh, god, I'm close," you whimpered as you felt the heat that had been building begin to quickly creep up and spread through your stomach. "Oh, fuck. Oh, god... Joel, don't stop, please..." you begged, your breath coming in ragged gasps as your vision began to blur.

"I ain't stoppin'. C'mon, give it to me, lemme feel you," he growled. He snapped steadily into you now, each thrust punctuated by a grunt while his eyes locked on yours, watching with pride as you crumbled and fell apart, your walls squeezing him so beautifully as you came that it nearly pulled him right over the edge with you.

It happened fast. One second you were in his lap, your body tingling with the aftershocks of your orgasm and the next he had pulled out of you and flipped you onto your hands and knees. Only when you felt his thick cock slide back inside did you fully realize you had switched positions. And shit, taking him from that particular angle always was so much more intense, but combined with the fact that your new view included the camera in the corner of your eye made everything so much more powerful.

You could fucking see him now and you couldn't look away, completely entranced with the way his face looked as he slammed into you. His mouth hung open as he looked down at you with what could only be described as complete and utter desire. You could feel his hand running up the length of your spine but you could also see the look of worship in his eye, the way his face twisted in pleasure when he watched your ass ripple from the force of his hips, and you felt a heavy wave suddenly crash over you once again.

"Oh, fuck!" Joel groaned loudly as he watched another orgasm shoot through you. His hands grabbed at your waist to try to keep you still, but you were trembling everywhere and you couldn't hold yourself up any longer.

You fell onto your elbows, the side of your face pressing into the bed while he held up your hips, fucking into you harder now that he could tell you were spent. "I'm gonna come, baby, I'm -" he cut himself off with a desperate whine, the buildup from the past hour or so becoming too much and causing his release to intensify.

Your bodies finally stilled and he pumped you full of his spend, his groans getting caught in his throat as he pulsed inside you. He watched in a daze when his cum started to leak out even though he was still inside, and without thinking, he snatched the camera from the bedside table so he could get a close up.

"Fuckin' hell, baby," he whispered hoarsely, chest heaving and hands shaking as he held the camera at his chest, pointing it down to where you were connected. "So glad you're back on the pill. Fuckin' beautiful, all full of me like this. Shit," he muttered, swiping a finger to collect some of his release to rub it over your clit. With a whine, your body jolted forward and he chuckled before dropping his hand, knowing you were too overstimulated.

"Joel," you whispered tiredly. Your eyelids were heavy and your thighs were shaking from the effort of holding yourself up.

"I know, baby, just one more thing and then I'll clean you up," he promised. He took a deep breath and steadied the camera before slipping out of you.

He made a pained noise in the back of his throat when he watched through the lens the way your body leaked of him, your pussy all swollen and stretched out, completely fucked, messy and used.

"Jesus," he croaked, wishing he could keep filming but your body sagged forward and he stopped the recording before tossing the camera onto the other side of the bed so he could check on you.

"You alright?"

You nodded, eyes closed, lips bitten raw, hair a complete mess but you still wore a satisfied smile.

"Tired. I think I'm gonna just..." you yawned and stretched out your shaky limbs. "Just gonna close my eyes for a sec."

He grinned and stood up to go to the bathroom, plucking a couple clean washcloths from the linen closet and wetting them both under the faucet so he could clean himself up with one and take the other back to you.

"Did you eat?" he asked softly as he gently and carefully dragged the washcloth through your thighs. You shook your head, eyes still closed. "I'm gonna go make you somethin'. Gotta eat, honey," he whispered before kissing the top of your head and covering you with the sheet. But by the time he came back upstairs with a bagel and cream cheese, you were fast asleep.

So you're getting married, then?

Well, he hasn't really asked me, not in so many words.

Four, you mean?

Huh?

Well, that's how many it takes: will you marry me?

Your eyes fluttered open when you heard two familiar voices reciting an even more familiar dialogue from the television, the volume turned down so low, you could hear the neighbor's dog barking from four houses down.

Joel shifted in bed next to you as quietly as he could, unaware you had awoken. You peered up at him, hair all messy, chest still bare, and you smiled when you caught him stifling a laugh at Audrey Hepburn.

"Hey," you said, voice coming out rougher than you expected, so you cleared your throat. He immediately muted the television and turned toward you, grinning as his eyes raked up and down your sleep-addled face.

"Hey, yourself," he said softly. He pushed the hair off your face, letting his thumb linger on your cheek while he continued to examine you closely. "Feelin' okay?"

You nodded and yawned, stretching your sore legs out underneath the blankets. "You fucked me into a coma."

He laughed heartily and rubbed his palm over his chest, embarrassment flushing his bronzed skin.

"But I guess that's what I get for shacking up with a pornstar," you added with a giggle. He tossed his head back and laughed even louder at that and you couldn't resist, his happiness too infectious. You inched forward and nuzzled into his side, his arm dropping to wrap around your shoulders.

When the laughter died down, he gazed lovingly at you and, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear, reminded you, "ex-pornstar, but I suppose old habits die hard, huh?"

"Mm, maybe, but that's okay," you said, tracing light, invisible patterns on his stomach. "It's nothing I can't handle."

He cocked an eyebrow at you and smirked. "Careful, or I might have'ta hold you to that."

"Bring it on, superstar," you whispered before leaning up and pressing a gentle, soft kiss against his mouth. You licked your lips and hummed before looking up at him through your lashes. "Cream cheese?"

"I made you a bagel, but you fell asleep," he admitted, "but figured we could relax the rest of the day. Order in, watch movies... just like we said we would."

"I don't remember saying we would do all that naked," you teased.

"Thought that was implied, baby," he said with a frown. "You shacked up with a pornstar, what'd you expect?"

What did you expect? Did you ever imagine your life would turn out the way it did? Sitting in bed with a sheet wrapped around you, eating Chinese food and watching a Turner Classic Movies marathon with the man of your dreams? You always wished for it; before you met, after you became friends, while you were carrying on an illicit affair, and even when you weren't on speaking terms, you always, always wished for it. But did you ever really think it would come true?

You couldn't really remember, and at that point, it didn't matter. Because you didn't care how you got there, just as long as you were together, you were happy.

You did exactly what he said you would do. You stayed in bed until the sun began to set, wasting the whole day away curled into his side watching old movies and pointing out your favorite parts, exactly the way you used to.

It was around nine when Joel suggested going out for ice cream. Let's get out, stretch our legs and walk along the river, he had said after vowing to finish your vegetable garden the next day.

And on your way out, your hands fused together even while he struggled to lock the door one handed, you looked at the chairs on his porch and smiled to yourself.

"What's that for?" he asked, tapping your cheek lovingly while you walked side by side to his truck.

"Nothing, it's stupid," you told him with a shrug.

"Ain't nothin' you got to say is stupid to me."

You sighed when he let your hand go so you could round the truck and hop into the passenger seat. After you clicked your seatbelt into place, he put the keys in the ignition but waited to turn it on. Instead, he looked at you expectantly with his eyebrows raised.

"Fine," you mumbled, "I'm gonna sound fucking crazy, but... fine."

"Oh, well now this I gotta hear," he said.

You gave him a look before turning in your seat to face him. "The chairs on your porch." He nodded.

"So far, not crazy."

You rolled your eyes. "Remember when I came by to drop off the shirts for the Jack and Jill party?"

He nodded again and you could feel the self-consciousness begin to creep up.

"We weren't on great terms back then. I had just found out you bought a house. I felt like I hardly even knew you anymore. And I was so damn nervous, I didn't want to fuck things up even more than I already had, but when I saw you had two..." You paused when you saw the flicker of understanding cross his face. "I thought you maybe found someone else. I know. It's crazy, like I said."

Joel smiled and reached his hand across the seat to lace together with yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

"Got the second one for you."

Your eyes snapped up to his in surprise.

"What?" you breathed.

He gave you a shrug and tilted his head bashfully. "I was just waitin' for you."

Tears welled in your eyes as you fumbled with the seatbelt, unbuckling yourself so you could stretch your body over to his seat and pull him into a deep kiss.

"I thought I lost you," you whispered against his mouth, and he chuckled.

"You didn't. I was all yours that very first night, sweetheart."

You didn't even try to deny it. He was right. It seemed so obvious now. Why didn't you see it back then? But before you began to mentally chastise yourself for being so bullheaded, you stopped. You couldn't change the past, something you've been learning to accept in therapy for months now, but what you could do was focus on your future. And while you sat next to Joel as he drove towards your favorite ice cream place in town, windows down and stars twinkling in the sky, you smiled because your future together looked pretty damn bright.

[kumkaniudaku]

Stay A While (3)

Summary: Terry get's a lesson in love and shares it with Patrice.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 5,049

Part: 3 of ??

Warnings: Smut (18+)

One. Two.

"Well, James, how you been?" 

"Honestly, Pop. I don't know where to start." 

Wooden spoons banged and scraped across pots on the stove while Marvin scooped red beans and rice into a small ceramic bowl. He'd long shed his work coveralls for an open flannel shirt and khakis to spend some quality time with his only son. 

James was their shared middle name in a long line of Richmond men dating back to their family migration from New Orleans to Fayetteville in the 50s. Marvin was a proud, honorable man. He never said a bad word about anybody, and no one had a bad word to say about him. He taught Terry how to play football, make a pot of dirty rice to perfection, and the importance of ensuring a lady never touched a doorhandle in his presence. He was the reason Terry joined the Marine Corps after a career in the NFL looked unlikely. He was the reason his boy spoke softly and carried a big stick. And he was one of only two people Terry trusted with his heart. 

With two bowls and spoons on a serving tray, Marvin made his way to the kitchen table. He stopped short to get a good look at his son with blue green eyes even more captivating than Terry's. He noted the new frown lines developing on his brow and the lone grey hair sprouting in his goatee. His boy was stressed and confused. He didn't need a conversation to tell him that but welcomed it anyway. 

After sliding one bowl across the table, he took a seat with his signature grunt. "Start at the top. Plenty of time still left in the day." 

Terry quietly thanked his father for his generosity and avoided the question by eating the first bite of his meal. They ate in silence for several seconds until Terry took a deep breath. 

"I think I've been okay. More ups than downs lately, but the downs are pretty damn low. I'm having a tough time sleeping. I'm barely working. I feel like a burden for Treece more than I feel like a man who can actually do something for her." 

"Being a man is about more than what you can do." 

"Yeah, but…" Terry trailed off, trying to gather his thoughts. "It's just - things weren't supposed to be this hard. I gave this country a lot of my time, and I guess I expected to say my goodbyes and roll into my next chapter. Now, my plan b needs a plan b, and I'm out of options." 

"You're not out of options. You don't like askin' for help. Proud like your grandaddy." 

"And you too." 

Marvin chuckled and shook his head as he took another spoonful of food.  "This ain't about me."

The two men shared a laugh, their voices sounding nearly identical as they bounced off the walls. He was the spitting image of his father, both in stature and moral compass. 

"What do you need, James?" Marvin had grown serious again, making Terry avert his eyes to focus on his food. "I'll save you the stress of asking, but you gotta tell me what I need to offer. Is it money?"

"Not much. Enough to pay some bills until the end of the month, and I can have it back to you. I think I have a shot at this job on base if I can get through the second interview."

"How you getting back and forth? I know y'all do the Lyft and Ubom thing these days. Ridin' around with strangers like we didn't spend a whole decade tell y'all not to." 

Terry laughed. "It's Uber, Pop. But, no. Treece is out for the summer, so I'm…using her car when I need it. I don't wanna take advantage of her." 

"Those some of the bills you need help paying?" Marvin's question was answered with a silent head nod and eyes filled with shame. He softened his voice as he reached into his wallet for the cash he had on hand. "It's what you're supposed to do. Ain't no shame. That money is for yourself. Give me til tomorrow afternoon to have more. Five grand enough?" 

"Ah, Pop, I don-" 

"We didn't work as hard as we did for nothing. Plus, it's your college fund money we never withdrew. You're lucky your mother hasn't used it for renovations. She's been eyeing your sister's old room for an indoor she-shed or whatever the hell it's called." 

Marvin sounded exasperated by the concept of his wife's latest project, which amused Terry. They hadn't changed since the day he left. They were just two people who had been in love since the day they met and remained committed to supporting each other through the ebbs and flows of life. 

Standing from the kitchen table, Marvin shuffled around the corner to the garage entrance and returned with a ring of keys and a pile of mail. He tossed them at Terry and returned to his seat. 

"What's this?" 

"Keys to GMC outside. Take it. You might need to run it for a little bit and change the oil, but it works fine. The rest is your mail." Terry opened his mouth to protest and received a glare from his father in return. "I gave you my best speech about askin' for help, and here you go ruining things. Take the truck before I tell your mama."

"Alright, alright," Terry laughed as he raised his hands. "I love you, Pop." 

"Love you, man. I'm proud of you." Not ones for the warm fuzzies of hugs, the two extended their arms across the table for a quick fist bump before returning to their meals. Marvin let his son eat in peace for a few moments before the corner of his lips curled in a knowing smile. "So…Patrice Ellis, huh? That little love letter you wrote in 10th grade finally coming true?" 

"Pop." 

"Ah, come on. It's alright to be in love, son. She's a good girl. Got good folks, too. What's the holdup?" 

In love? The more Terry attempted to negotiate the gravity of the phrase within himself, the more he had to reckon with the idea that his father may not be that far off base.

Terry slowed his eating and looked at his father for help. "You think I'm in love?" 

"Oh, I know you are. You didn't come back to Fayetteville for me, did you?" 

"How would I know, though? How did you know?" 

Marvin stopped eating to sit back in his chair. A fond smile crossed his face as he thought of his younger years. 

"I knew I was in love when I wanted to show up every day and do the work to be with her. It didn't matter if she pissed me off or if we disagreed about decisions. At the end of every day, I can look at her and know I'm where I want to be forever. Plus, I still get a little fired up when she walks through the door all these years later. I ain't much to look at, but your mother is…" 

Marvin let his sentence drop to whistle at the mention of his wife. Terry pretended to take exception but eventually laughed at his father's antics. He quickly relaxed into a contemplative state. 

"I wanna be the best I can for her," he spoke softly. "I get…sad when she's gone for too long. Sometimes, I find myself forcing conversation just to make her look at me because the light in her eyes is the only thing keeping me grounded most days. What does that mean?" 

"You don't need me to answer that, son. Go with what you know." 

Before Terry could seek more advice, the mechanical roar of the garage door made Marvin nearly spring out of his seat to greet his one true love. 

Outside, Patrice was nearly doubled over from laughter in the front seat. 

Diedra "DeeDee" Richmond was the quintessential Southern black woman. Like a prim and proper belle, she wore her color-treated blonde hair big to match an even bigger personality.  She wore heels with every outfit and never left the house without earrings, but she could also drink and cuss like a sailor. 

When she offered Patrice the chance to tag along for her monthly Sister Circle meeting, there was no chance she'd miss the opportunity to ditch Terry and kick it with the upper crust of Black women. 

"And, girl, Rita thinks we can't tell that she took every one of those appetizers out of the damn freezer section. At least go to the Publix bakery. Finger sandwiches ain't that expensive." 

Amid their gossip session, the garage door's chime caught Dee Dee's attention, effectively ending her one-woman show in favor of giving her husband the eye. Behind him, Terry stood with a nervous smile and puppy dog eyes that he directed at Patrice. 

"Marry a Richmond, child. You'll never lift a finger for the rest of your life. Lord knows I love me some him. Hey, baby!" DeeDee advised as she watched Marvin nearly float to the driver's side to open her door. 

Patrice watched Marvin and DeeDee fawn over each other like teenage lovers until the faint pop of her door opening brought her back to life. 

Terry stood in the gap with his hand out to offer assistance. She accepted without protest, letting him gently pull her from the passenger side with her bags in tow and close the door behind her.

"I missed you." 

Terry's admission came in a sweet voice as he dipped his head to place two chaste kisses on Patrice's lips. Only the knowledge of his parents 10 feet away kept her from turning an innocent display of affection into something vulgar. 

Patrice chased his lips once he pulled away, earning a deep chuckle that vibrated her chest. 

"We kissing in front of the parents now?" 

"Too much," he asked, suddenly embarrassed. 

She used her thumb to wipe lip gloss from his bottom lip before rising to her tip toes to kiss his nose. "No. You're perfect." 

Dee Dee and Marvin watched the young couple giggle at nothing in particular with broad smiles and full hearts. 

"Treece, when's the last time you had some of my red beans and rice?" 

Marvin's question made both of them jump like children caught in the act with the realization that they weren't alone. 

"Way too long," Patrice answered, her stomach almost growling at the mention. 

"Then have dinner with us. We'd love to have you." 

Patrice looked toward Terry for confirmation, making Dee Dee cackle as she started up the stairs into her home. "Child, forget him. Terrence don't run nothing 'round here! Come get this food."

Terry's eyes grew wide at his mother's dismissal while Patrice dissolved into an uncontrollable fit of laughter at his expense on her way into the house. 

"Oh, that's funny," he asked, following her lead. "That's the last time I let y'all hang out unsupervised." 

Three extra hours at Terry's parents' house wasn't enough for the tandem to abandon their new night routine. 

Patrice stood at her bathroom sink, scrubbing the day from her face while Terry made himself comfortable on her closed toilet lid. Sometimes, he read something from Patrice's bookshelf, both preferring to simply exist in the same room. Other times, he watched baseball on his phone and attempted to provide color commentary despite Patrice not showing interest. This time, though, he sat with relaxed shoulders and low eyes while she moved through her beauty routine. 

Something about the sleepytime body wash had him laser-focused on how her legs looked a mile long beneath her nightshirt, oiled to perfection and glistening under the warm vanity lights. He wanted to reach out and touch her. Maybe pull her closer by her thighs and whisper every single nasty thought on his mind below her navel until she promised never to leave his side. 

But, he shook his inner man loose and leaned forward to re-engage with her as she called his name. 

"You know you should use a gentle exfoliant every once in a while. It'll help your breakouts. Use some of my sunscreen, too. It's dangerous for you to let the sun hit your face with no protection."

Blah, blah, blah. Everything she said sounded like a chorus of 1000 angels to him. She could've revealed the cure to cancer, and he would be too lovestruck to notice. 

Knowing his restraint was dwindling, he stood abruptly and stretched his arms above his head with a yawn as she added moisturizer to her face.

Patrice watched him take up space behind her through the mirror, shifting so he could leave something to remember him by on her shoulder and neck. 

"Good night," he spoke between kisses, the words muffled against her skin. 

"Already? It's not that late, is it?" 

"I promised Corey I'd help him with football practice at Francis tomorrow morning."

"He'll run you ragged if you don't speak up." 

"I'll speak up. I promise." 

Using what little space she had, Patrice turned to rest her backside on the counter and face Terry. She used her index finger to hook his gold herringbone chain and bring him down for a kiss. Or kisses. It'd been so long since they could have each other in this way. Time and experience, both together and separately, had them maneuvering like professionals. Each kiss was teasing and sensual in equal measure. A tangible mastery of retreating and aggression made the pursuit of one another worth the wait. 

They'd lost track of their exhibition until Terry's phone buzzing against the toilet seat jolted them back into reality.

Patrice flattened her palms against his chest to create some separation and end what would surely turn into blurred lines if they weren't careful. "Good night, TJ.  Grab that exfoliant out of my shower before you leave. It's in the caddie." 

Terry took the gentle redirection in stride, smiling at her through the mirror before turning to do as she had asked. Patrice used what little focus she could muster to secure her headscarf to her head, desperate to extend her box braids for one more week. 

"What's this?" 

"What's what?" She didn't bother to look away from her task until the low hum of her vibrator caught her attention. She whipped her body around, too stunned to reach for the bright pink toy that had Terry smirking as he examined its buttons. "That is my personal property for personal and private use." 

"When's the last time you used it?" 

"It's been a while. A month or so." Mostly true. She couldn't say she hadn't thought about it more recently.

"Since I've been here?" 

She shrugged. "Kinda hard to get comfortable when there's a person on the other side of the wall." 

The mere sound of the only thing to touch her in two years made the hair on her arms stand at attention. Her eyes darted between the toy and Terry, who made himself familiar with each speed and pattern, cycling through dirty thoughts and intrigue as he held the device against his arm to get a feel for the intensity, 

Setting one? Bearable. A softball. Setting three? Maybe she'd call out his name from the pleasure? Setting seven? Surely, she'd hang on to him like a wet t-shirt on a Playboy model while she rode the crest of her orgasm. 

The possibilities excited him to no end. He needed to test each and every theory.

In two clicks, he returned the toy to its original setting and then off completely, holding it in one hand while taking slow steps to close the gap between him and the only person on his mind. 

She shifted her weight nervously as he approached, unsure how to respond until he towered over her with a look she knew all too well. 

Desire. 

Their senses were heightened. Everything felt surreal, almost as if one misstep could send them flying through a portal back to a more disappointing reality. 

Terry could smell the faint hint of mint on Patrice's breath before dipping his head to nip at her bottom lip with his teeth. She responded like he knew she would by making him work for his prize. Patrice never let him intimidate her. Not for their first time together all those years ago, certainly not now. 

He chuckled before leaning in again, this time leaving a trail of short kisses from her jaw to her clavicle. He inhaled deeply, breathing in vanilla and the subtle spice of his cologne from moments earlier.

Suddenly, Patrice felt weightless. Her feet dangled briefly and without warning as Terry took her from standing to sitting on the cold, hard counter before she could protest. 

Patrice fought for stability, using the peaks and valleys across the expanse of his muscled arms as her anchor in the dizzying experience that was his affection. Her lips parted to draw in sharp breaths and release airy sighs of approval in a feeble attempt to remain present. At the same time, he kissed his appreciation wherever his lips saw fit. Her legs acted under their own power to spread wider and make room for whatever came next. 

Her hands left a trail of tingles as she dragged them from his arms to the back of his head, down the sides of his face, over his tank top, between his pecs, and, finally, into the waistband of his shorts. 

Surprised by her touch, he lurched forward to grab her wrist. "Not this time," he whispered, unsure he meant what he was saying. 

Patrice nodded in understanding, earning a sloppy kiss for her obedience. 

There was no discerning where his mouth ended, and hers began. They were on one accord, hungrily tasting, exploring, and consuming each other without holding back. 

Then, the low hum returned. This time, it was closer than Patrice remembered. 

Cold silicone soon caressed her inner thigh. A low whimper escaped past her lips as she made eye contact with Terry. He leaned close enough to speak against her mouth. 

"You trust me?" 

"Mhmm," she answered, fighting to keep her eyes open as he moved further up her leg. 

"Let me take care of you, then. Take these off for me." 

Trembling fingers latched onto her boyshorts, pushing them to mid-thigh for Terry to take care of the rest. As quickly as he was gone, he'd returned for another taste of her tongue. Languid and unhurried, he used the time to relax her while slowly inching the vibrator to her center. 

Initial contact made her hips buck forward, and her head softly hit the mirror behind her. Terry chased her with sloppy kisses at the base of her neck. 

The slow and steady setting was enough to get her wet and sticky. Terry'd be lying if he said the thought alone didn't have him wanting to renege on his early statement and dive in with reckless abandon. But, he remained steadfast in his pursuit of her pleasure. 

Once the initial shock had worn off, Patrice ground her hips slowly, making small circles while the vibration worked to settle her nerves. Terry took a break from leaving praises in the form of kisses on her throat to smile at his girl. 

"You're beautiful. You know that?"

She gripped his chin and pulled him closer for a fiery kiss that he let her lead. "Yeah. But, I love to hear you say it." 

"Good," he answered, grinning at her confidence as he upped the intensity on her vibrator. Her eyes clamped shut as her entire body tensed. "Stay with me." 

A deep, steadying breath turned into a silent scream as Patrice gave in to the natural urge to hold her breath. Terry used his free hand to sneak up her tank top and grope one breast while pressing his lips to her ear. 

"Breathe, baby. In and out." He modeled the behavior until she found the strength to match his tempo. "There you go. You feel good?" 

"Yes, yes," she whisper-chanted to the ceiling, her head thrown back in unimaginable euphoria. 

"I want you to feel this good every day. You deserve it, right?" 

A twisting, turning feeling at the pit of her stomach forced her to draw in a deep breath to steady herself. Her answer came in a soft moan. "Right." 

"Damn right." Pressing his forehead to hers, he zeroed in on each of her features twisted in unthinkable pleasure. 

She kept her mouth open to sigh and moan as she saw fit. Her nostrils flared in a rhythm as she tried to force herself to breathe through every peak and valley of the moment. Her brows were knitted, and her eyes closed as if she were too afraid to look at him. He wondered what she was thinking. 

Did she want him inside of her as much as he wanted the same for himself? Was she yearning for more pressure? Could she feel how much he loved her?

"Don't get quiet on me. I want everything. Let 'em hear you. You need more?" 

A quick glance down helped him reposition the vibrator on her already sensitive bud, earning a guttural curse as appreciation for his good deed. 

"Fuck! Don't move. Please don't move." 

Terry obliged for the moment, too entranced by his view of her flower on full display for his viewing pleasure. Glistening. Wet. Beautiful. Appetizing like nothing he'd ever seen before. He pulled the toy away and replaced its presence with his thumb. Slow circles and firm pressure made her want to close her legs to escape the overwhelming stimulation, but her attempt was futile. She was at his mercy. 

"Damn," he whispered to himself, enamored by the way her body reacted to his touch. 

Every revolution around her clit brought with it more wetness at her entrance and indentations in his arms from her nails gripping for dear life. 

It wasn't enough to touch her. He needed to taste. 

Using his middle and ring fingers, he teased his introduction with gentle brushes against her inner lips. She keened for more against his mouth as she held his face close. He granted her wish and pushed into her slowly, immediately feeling her warmth envelop his long digits. 

Their mouths hung open, breaths being traded between the two as he set a slow pace. Not enough to bring forth a release. Just enough for Terry to get what he came for. 

Removing his fingers left him with a coating of clear arousal nearly dripping to his knuckles. Patrice watched him as he smirked at the sight, examining it like a jeweler appraising precious diamonds. 

When he'd seen enough, he put both fingers into his mouth and closed his eyes to savor the taste. Patrice's mouth hung open as if waiting for her turn to experience the wonders of her juices. 

Had she closed her eyes for even a second, she would have missed Terry extending his tongue from his mouth to allow a mixture of his saliva and her essence the chance to slide from his tongue in anticipation of a new host. 

Something profound and hungry within her made her lean her head back and hold her tongue out to receive all that he had to give. It excited her, delighted her, and aroused her like never before.

Like a lewd work of art, spit connected their tongues in what would otherwise be seen as an infraction among more proper circles. But fuckin' wasn't proper, and all forms of affection were welcomed in their home. 

Almost immediately, Terry rushed to reward her with a wild and frenzied kiss that nearly surprised him. 

Primal. Carnal. Intense. Fucking disgusting. He loved every minute of it.

The race was on. Terry kept their lips connected as he returned the vibrator to her clit, dialing up the settings to a level below their max. 

Patrice's moans and his couldn't be distinguished from one another. Her hips bucked wildly. Her fingernails left marks in their wake as they scratched at his arms and back. Her body twitched and seized in anticipation of the inevitable. 

"Oh my - fuck!" Satisfied tears slid from the corners of her eyes and down her cheeks to her man's awaiting lips. "Terrence!" 

Terry remained locked in. A man possessed. A one-track mind focused on nothing other than completing the mission. 

The first stage of her orgasm came without a warning. Heat washed over her as if she'd stepped outside at high noon, making her skin almost unbearable to live in. Her toes curled, her voice caught in her throat despite the intense desire to release a scream from the depths of her soul into the atmosphere. 

She thanked Terry and God in Heaven for blessing her with the opportunity to touch the moon and the stars without ever leaving her home. Terry used his free hand to grip and massage her thighs, knowing that the best was yet to come. 

Patrice's voice began to climb as the main event approached. Shallow breaths gave way to loud gasps for air, which came rapidly while she did the same. She was suspended in a beautiful bliss and already sad about the prospect of coming down. 

Her lover reveled in the opportunity to see her unraveling at the seams. 

"I'll always come back to you, beautiful. No matter what, okay? Look at me." His request earned intense focus from Patrice under hooded eyes. "You're so pretty. Say it back to me. Tell me you're pretty."

"I'm so pretty!" Impending release sent all her words out in one breathless sentence. 

He smiled at her compliance. "I know you're close. Hold my hand."

Her fingers scrambled against the counter, filling the spaces between his fingers and gripping with enough force to turn her knuckles a lighter shade of brown. 

"That's my girl. I love you," was all he could manage before Patrice let out something akin to a squeal, turning his declaration into background fodder. 

Sensitive, overstimulated, and completely spent, the after-effects of her release had her panting to recover. Her ears rang with a heady feeling that could only be compared to a few puffs of homegrown bud. 

Terry held her through it all, propping her up while her body sagged against him for stability. He put aside the vibrator to run his palms up and down her legs while he showered her temple with whispered praises and sweet kisses. 

He waited until her breathing was even before gingerly pressing his forehead to hers. "You good?" 

His smirk was incredibly smug. He was proud of himself, and for good reason. She was open to giving credit where credit was due. 

"You can never leave this house without me again. I hope you're happy." 

"That's the whole point. My granny taught me some things during them summers down in New Orleans, you know?" 

"Oh, so this is some magic shit?" 

"Family business, baby. Gotta have the last name to find out." A playful glint in his eyes and a squeeze to her waist made Patrice's stomach feel butterflies that she thought would never return. Terry tapped her nose with his index finger and stepped back. "Stay put. I'll clean you up." 

Patrice scoffed. Stay put. As if she could go anywhere. As if she wanted to go anywhere.

Like the perfect gentleman, Terry was tender with his care. A warm towel to soothe sore muscles and ensure a thorough cleanup was mandatory. The extra loving was complimentary for only his favorite lady. 

"Stay with me tonight," Patrice requested as he slid her panties back up her legs. 

He shook his head and smiled while prompting her to lift her hips. "I don't know if that's a good idea, Treecey." 

"I just wanna be next to you. Nothing more." 

Terry regarded her doe-eyed plea with a small smile as he helped her off the counter. He pulled her into an embrace, fiending for one more kiss. She obliged happily until he'd had his fill. 

His hands slid from her sides to her ass for a generous squeeze before answering. 

"Okay. Whatever you want. Let me handle something real quick, and then I'll meet you there." 

Patrice accepted her victory with a silly happy dance before turning to make enough room in her bed for an extra person. Terry sent her on her way with a light tap to her ass, amused by how something as simple as sleeping next to each other was exciting for her. 

Once she was safely out of the bathroom with the door shut behind her, he finally found time to take a deep breath and compose himself. The actual test of his strength was in the next room, and he couldn't risk the trust he'd worked so hard to build. 

After adjusting his shorts, he picked up his phone and sat on the toilet lid, hoping that watching dog videos or Nationals highlights would clear his mind.

He had every intention of opening the web browser on his phone until he noticed a series of messages from an old friend.

From: McBride 

You check your mail? 

Trial against chief starts in two weeks. Gonna need you to testify to take him down

Know you said you weren’t coming back

Do it for Mike

---

TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @oniccah @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse @yaachtynoboat711 @jenlovey @pinkpantheris @blowmymbackout @deja-r

[mostlysignssomeportents]

“Humans in the loop” must detect the hardest-to-spot errors, at superhuman speed

I'm touring my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me SATURDAY (Apr 27) in MARIN COUNTY, then Winnipeg (May 2), Calgary (May 3), Vancouver (May 4), and beyond!

If AI has a future (a big if), it will have to be economically viable. An industry can't spend 1,700% more on Nvidia chips than it earns indefinitely – not even with Nvidia being a principle investor in its largest customers:

https://news.ycombinator.com/item?id=39883571

A company that pays 0.36-1 cents/query for electricity and (scarce, fresh) water can't indefinitely give those queries away by the millions to people who are expected to revise those queries dozens of times before eliciting the perfect botshit rendition of "instructions for removing a grilled cheese sandwich from a VCR in the style of the King James Bible":

https://www.semianalysis.com/p/the-inference-cost-of-search-disruption

Eventually, the industry will have to uncover some mix of applications that will cover its operating costs, if only to keep the lights on in the face of investor disillusionment (this isn't optional – investor disillusionment is an inevitable part of every bubble).

Now, there are lots of low-stakes applications for AI that can run just fine on the current AI technology, despite its many – and seemingly inescapable - errors ("hallucinations"). People who use AI to generate illustrations of their D&D characters engaged in epic adventures from their previous gaming session don't care about the odd extra finger. If the chatbot powering a tourist's automatic text-to-translation-to-speech phone tool gets a few words wrong, it's still much better than the alternative of speaking slowly and loudly in your own language while making emphatic hand-gestures.

There are lots of these applications, and many of the people who benefit from them would doubtless pay something for them. The problem – from an AI company's perspective – is that these aren't just low-stakes, they're also low-value. Their users would pay something for them, but not very much.

For AI to keep its servers on through the coming trough of disillusionment, it will have to locate high-value applications, too. Economically speaking, the function of low-value applications is to soak up excess capacity and produce value at the margins after the high-value applications pay the bills. Low-value applications are a side-dish, like the coach seats on an airplane whose total operating expenses are paid by the business class passengers up front. Without the principle income from high-value applications, the servers shut down, and the low-value applications disappear:

https://locusmag.com/2023/12/commentary-cory-doctorow-what-kind-of-bubble-is-ai/

Now, there are lots of high-value applications the AI industry has identified for its products. Broadly speaking, these high-value applications share the same problem: they are all high-stakes, which means they are very sensitive to errors. Mistakes made by apps that produce code, drive cars, or identify cancerous masses on chest X-rays are extremely consequential.

Some businesses may be insensitive to those consequences. Air Canada replaced its human customer service staff with chatbots that just lied to passengers, stealing hundreds of dollars from them in the process. But the process for getting your money back after you are defrauded by Air Canada's chatbot is so onerous that only one passenger has bothered to go through it, spending ten weeks exhausting all of Air Canada's internal review mechanisms before fighting his case for weeks more at the regulator:

https://bc.ctvnews.ca/air-canada-s-chatbot-gave-a-b-c-man-the-wrong-information-now-the-airline-has-to-pay-for-the-mistake-1.6769454

There's never just one ant. If this guy was defrauded by an AC chatbot, so were hundreds or thousands of other fliers. Air Canada doesn't have to pay them back. Air Canada is tacitly asserting that, as the country's flagship carrier and near-monopolist, it is too big to fail and too big to jail, which means it's too big to care.

Air Canada shows that for some business customers, AI doesn't need to be able to do a worker's job in order to be a smart purchase: a chatbot can replace a worker, fail to their worker's job, and still save the company money on balance.

I can't predict whether the world's sociopathic monopolists are numerous and powerful enough to keep the lights on for AI companies through leases for automation systems that let them commit consequence-free free fraud by replacing workers with chatbots that serve as moral crumple-zones for furious customers:

https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S0747563219304029

But even stipulating that this is sufficient, it's intrinsically unstable. Anything that can't go on forever eventually stops, and the mass replacement of humans with high-speed fraud software seems likely to stoke the already blazing furnace of modern antitrust:

https://www.eff.org/de/deeplinks/2021/08/party-its-1979-og-antitrust-back-baby

Of course, the AI companies have their own answer to this conundrum. A high-stakes/high-value customer can still fire workers and replace them with AI – they just need to hire fewer, cheaper workers to supervise the AI and monitor it for "hallucinations." This is called the "human in the loop" solution.

The human in the loop story has some glaring holes. From a worker's perspective, serving as the human in the loop in a scheme that cuts wage bills through AI is a nightmare – the worst possible kind of automation.

Let's pause for a little detour through automation theory here. Automation can augment a worker. We can call this a "centaur" – the worker offloads a repetitive task, or one that requires a high degree of vigilance, or (worst of all) both. They're a human head on a robot body (hence "centaur"). Think of the sensor/vision system in your car that beeps if you activate your turn-signal while a car is in your blind spot. You're in charge, but you're getting a second opinion from the robot.

Likewise, consider an AI tool that double-checks a radiologist's diagnosis of your chest X-ray and suggests a second look when its assessment doesn't match the radiologist's. Again, the human is in charge, but the robot is serving as a backstop and helpmeet, using its inexhaustible robotic vigilance to augment human skill.

That's centaurs. They're the good automation. Then there's the bad automation: the reverse-centaur, when the human is used to augment the robot.

Amazon warehouse pickers stand in one place while robotic shelving units trundle up to them at speed; then, the haptic bracelets shackled around their wrists buzz at them, directing them pick up specific items and move them to a basket, while a third automation system penalizes them for taking toilet breaks or even just walking around and shaking out their limbs to avoid a repetitive strain injury. This is a robotic head using a human body – and destroying it in the process.

An AI-assisted radiologist processes fewer chest X-rays every day, costing their employer more, on top of the cost of the AI. That's not what AI companies are selling. They're offering hospitals the power to create reverse centaurs: radiologist-assisted AIs. That's what "human in the loop" means.

This is a problem for workers, but it's also a problem for their bosses (assuming those bosses actually care about correcting AI hallucinations, rather than providing a figleaf that lets them commit fraud or kill people and shift the blame to an unpunishable AI).

Humans are good at a lot of things, but they're not good at eternal, perfect vigilance. Writing code is hard, but performing code-review (where you check someone else's code for errors) is much harder – and it gets even harder if the code you're reviewing is usually fine, because this requires that you maintain your vigilance for something that only occurs at rare and unpredictable intervals:

https://twitter.com/qntm/status/1773779967521780169

But for a coding shop to make the cost of an AI pencil out, the human in the loop needs to be able to process a lot of AI-generated code. Replacing a human with an AI doesn't produce any savings if you need to hire two more humans to take turns doing close reads of the AI's code.

This is the fatal flaw in robo-taxi schemes. The "human in the loop" who is supposed to keep the murderbot from smashing into other cars, steering into oncoming traffic, or running down pedestrians isn't a driver, they're a driving instructor. This is a much harder job than being a driver, even when the student driver you're monitoring is a human, making human mistakes at human speed. It's even harder when the student driver is a robot, making errors at computer speed:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/01/human-in-the-loop/#monkey-in-the-middle

This is why the doomed robo-taxi company Cruise had to deploy 1.5 skilled, high-paid human monitors to oversee each of its murderbots, while traditional taxis operate at a fraction of the cost with a single, precaratized, low-paid human driver:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/11/robots-stole-my-jerb/#computer-says-no

The vigilance problem is pretty fatal for the human-in-the-loop gambit, but there's another problem that is, if anything, even more fatal: the kinds of errors that AIs make.

Foundationally, AI is applied statistics. An AI company trains its AI by feeding it a lot of data about the real world. The program processes this data, looking for statistical correlations in that data, and makes a model of the world based on those correlations. A chatbot is a next-word-guessing program, and an AI "art" generator is a next-pixel-guessing program. They're drawing on billions of documents to find the most statistically likely way of finishing a sentence or a line of pixels in a bitmap:

https://dl.acm.org/doi/10.1145/3442188.3445922

This means that AI doesn't just make errors – it makes subtle errors, the kinds of errors that are the hardest for a human in the loop to spot, because they are the most statistically probable ways of being wrong. Sure, we notice the gross errors in AI output, like confidently claiming that a living human is dead:

https://www.tomsguide.com/opinion/according-to-chatgpt-im-dead

But the most common errors that AIs make are the ones we don't notice, because they're perfectly camouflaged as the truth. Think of the recurring AI programming error that inserts a call to a nonexistent library called "huggingface-cli," which is what the library would be called if developers reliably followed naming conventions. But due to a human inconsistency, the real library has a slightly different name. The fact that AIs repeatedly inserted references to the nonexistent library opened up a vulnerability – a security researcher created a (inert) malicious library with that name and tricked numerous companies into compiling it into their code because their human reviewers missed the chatbot's (statistically indistinguishable from the the truth) lie:

https://www.theregister.com/2024/03/28/ai_bots_hallucinate_software_packages/

For a driving instructor or a code reviewer overseeing a human subject, the majority of errors are comparatively easy to spot, because they're the kinds of errors that lead to inconsistent library naming – places where a human behaved erratically or irregularly. But when reality is irregular or erratic, the AI will make errors by presuming that things are statistically normal.

These are the hardest kinds of errors to spot. They couldn't be harder for a human to detect if they were specifically designed to go undetected. The human in the loop isn't just being asked to spot mistakes – they're being actively deceived. The AI isn't merely wrong, it's constructing a subtle "what's wrong with this picture"-style puzzle. Not just one such puzzle, either: millions of them, at speed, which must be solved by the human in the loop, who must remain perfectly vigilant for things that are, by definition, almost totally unnoticeable.

This is a special new torment for reverse centaurs – and a significant problem for AI companies hoping to accumulate and keep enough high-value, high-stakes customers on their books to weather the coming trough of disillusionment.

This is pretty grim, but it gets grimmer. AI companies have argued that they have a third line of business, a way to make money for their customers beyond automation's gifts to their payrolls: they claim that they can perform difficult scientific tasks at superhuman speed, producing billion-dollar insights (new materials, new drugs, new proteins) at unimaginable speed.

However, these claims – credulously amplified by the non-technical press – keep on shattering when they are tested by experts who understand the esoteric domains in which AI is said to have an unbeatable advantage. For example, Google claimed that its Deepmind AI had discovered "millions of new materials," "equivalent to nearly 800 years’ worth of knowledge," constituting "an order-of-magnitude expansion in stable materials known to humanity":

https://deepmind.google/discover/blog/millions-of-new-materials-discovered-with-deep-learning/

It was a hoax. When independent material scientists reviewed representative samples of these "new materials," they concluded that "no new materials have been discovered" and that not one of these materials was "credible, useful and novel":

https://www.404media.co/google-says-it-discovered-millions-of-new-materials-with-ai-human-researchers/

As Brian Merchant writes, AI claims are eerily similar to "smoke and mirrors" – the dazzling reality-distortion field thrown up by 17th century magic lantern technology, which millions of people ascribed wild capabilities to, thanks to the outlandish claims of the technology's promoters:

https://www.bloodinthemachine.com/p/ai-really-is-smoke-and-mirrors

The fact that we have a four-hundred-year-old name for this phenomenon, and yet we're still falling prey to it is frankly a little depressing. And, unlucky for us, it turns out that AI therapybots can't help us with this – rather, they're apt to literally convince us to kill ourselves:

https://www.vice.com/en/article/pkadgm/man-dies-by-suicide-after-talking-with-ai-chatbot-widow-says

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/23/maximal-plausibility/#reverse-centaurs

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

[xoxosimp]

On Your Wrist

Synopsis: You and Bucky are in the early stages of your relationship, and he has some trouble getting the perfect gift for you.

Pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Warnings: soft mob bucky is a warning, mention of sex, Bucky’s petname for reader is “light”, mediocre writing 

A/N: This was supposed to be a drabble LMAO but my brain said nawp. This is HEAVILY inspired by Young Sheldon and the song “ Loveeeeeee song” by Rihanna 

~~~~

Love was a phenomenon that didn't come easy for Bucky Barnes to understand. 

He didn't understand why he was so wrapped up in all things you. The way you laughed, your sweet smile, how you managed to hypnotize him with just a look in your pretty eyes; if he could drown in you, he would. 

Bucky’s world was nothing but materialistic. The more dirty money he made , the more cars, watches, and houses he grew to love. The women he used to spend his time with loved all of those things, too. But no dollar amount could begin to describe the love James Buchanan Barnes has for you. 

It was almost silly how fast Bucky fell in love with you. He found himself doing things he would have never done before falling in love with you. He would make breakfast for you even though he has a private chef. The benefit of being the head of a criminal organization was people waited for him. So there was no meeting he couldn't postpone, all if it meant Bucky could spend more time with you. 

You were his light in his dark world. Before being with you, his purpose was to lead. To kill. You gavee his life meaning he’d never thought he would experience. If you were an angel, he was the devil that would bow to you and repent.

Diamonds and gold were no stranger to Bucky, but the six-figure tennis bracelet he had in his pocket made his hands damp with sweat. You and Bucky were still early in your relationship where he wanted to impress you. And diamonds are very impressive.

He was leaning against his Maserati, waiting for you to get off work so he could take you to dinner, for no other reason than it was Tuesday and he loved you (not that he’s told you yet).

Love was a phenomenon that stopped time whenever you looked at Bucky. It was a look of love and adoration, that nothing else existed except for you and him. It was a look that was shared between soulmates. 

You say goodbye to your coworker and greet Bucky with a hug. He tilted your chin so you could kiss him. If it was Bucky’s choice, he’d have your lips on his all fucking day. You pulled away and smiled at him. “ How was your day, Jamie?”

“ Better now that I’m with you, light”. 

You wrapped your hands around his waist. “ Where are we going for dinner?”

“I was thinking May’s?” he suggested.

“ Oh thank gosh,” you sighed, “ I have been craving fries all day.”

He chuckled and led to the passenger side to open the door for you. “ I have something for you first, light.”

“ Is it chocolate?” You wiggled your eyebrows. 

Bucky took the box from his pocket and gave it to you. Your face lighted up but dims. He can't distinguish the look on your face, whether it’s unhappiness or anger, the smile you wore doesn't quite reach your eyes.

“It’s-It’s beautiful Bucky,” you managed to stutter out. 

He raised an eyebrow to communicate a “But?. “It’s too much.”

Bucky was a little taken aback. The women he used to surround himself with would have taken it without hesitation. Some would say it was not enough. “ Nothing is too much for you,light,” he said firmly.

“ I could never give you something to equate to-to this-”

“ And you don't have to,” he interrupted softly, “ I wanted to get something for you, so I did,” he shrugged. 

He saw you gulp and close the box. “ You got something for me that costs more than a house,” you said. 

“That’s not the only reason you’re rejecting my gift, light,” he stated matter of factly.

“It’s not my style,” you mumbled. “ Are you mad?”

Bucky cupped your cheek and you leaned into his warmth, “ Well I’m not ecstatic that you rejected my gift, but I’m glad you feel safe enough to tell me .”

“But if you say I can't take you out for dinner, then I’ll be really sad, doll.” That pulled a chuckle out of you.

Bucky opened the car door for you to sit. “ I’d hate to see you sad, Jamie,” you stated. 

“It’s too much,” your words replayed in the back of Bucky’s mind.

As much as he’d love to hear those words spilling from your lips when he’s fucking you deep into his mattress, this was a sign he needed to hold back a little. As much as he wanted to impress you, he didn't want to scare you off. 

I can tone it back, Bucky said to himself.

~~~~~

After coming back from a work meeting, you found a box with your name on it. The only logical answer is that it’s from Bucky. Any secret admirers you could have had were too afraid of Bucky Barnes to profess their love.

You sighed as you opened the box, waiting for a more expensive gift than the last one. If he was bothered by your rejection, he didn't show it. Dinner with him was as lovely as it always was.

You weren't insecure that your boyfriend made more money than you, because as cliche as it was, it’s the thought that counts. 

In the box was a small string bracelet, decorated with blue and black beads. In the center were three white beads with the letters “JBB”.

Your smile was so wide your cheeks were starting to hurt. You reached for your phone to send Bucky a thank you text, but a deep voice startled you.

“ I like to see my light smile,” Bucky stood on the other side of your desk.

“ What are you doing here?” you giggled as you made your way over to embrace him. 

“Thought I’d take you out for lunch,” he said casually, then placed a kiss on your forehead. 

“Thank you for the bracelet, Jay,” you said as he took the bracelet and put it on your wrist, straightening the beads. 

“ Anything for you, light” Bucky mumbled as he kissed the inside of your wrist. 

Hopefully the next diamond he gives you, he’ll put it on your ring finger. Cross his fingers you won't reject that one.

~~~~~~

the bracelet in question

Part Two

[torrancefavgirl]

Dating James beaufort headcanons pt.1

Old money husband asf

Spoiling you is an understatement of what he's doing

If you think he didn't make a dress/collection inspired by you for young beaufort, YOU'RE WRONG

Softest boy ever actually

Trips to London 24/7 just for fun

Also why not play "dress up" as his dad calls it while in London

Percy will pick you up & drop you off everywhere, he's your chauffeur now too

Sitting next to each other in class

Parties. Parties. Parties

You help him cut down on the drinking

Walking to school and to each class together

Spending your free periods together

PDA where he holds your hands 24/7 and kisses your knuckles

Will not rest until his parents fully accept you no matter where you're from

It's so so important to him for you to get along with Lydia

Attending his lacrosse games

His closet??? Bffr that's your closet dude

Walking around the house with his white button up and boxers

Matching jewelry

Luxury vacations just because

Roses at your door step every week on the spot

Shopping trips at luxury stores

You make him so much better at communicating his feelings

Fighting because he bottles everything up

Making up cause he'd rather die than let you go

[wanderingsoul6261]

Credit for gif goes to creator, cinevettel

A Hint of Green

James Beaufort x Reader

Synopsis: Reader promised to support the Beaufort twins no matter what, having been friends with them for years. Reader adores Lydia, but loves James. But what happens when a certain scholarship student gets in the way?

Warning: only some swear words

P.S, a little self reflective because I've been dealing with thyroid and iron issues. Also, to the person that requested this, I'm sorry if this isn't particularly what you wanted. I'm a tad sick and so grammar and spelling might not also be the greatest.

-------

(Y/N) was a creature of habit and instinct. She did things as they appeared normal for her, doing them in ways that she was used to, as if any other way would stress her out and be too overwhelming to complete. And she has made it work.

One of these such habits? Hanging out with the Beaufort twins. Who are often arrogant but not enigmatic as many thought them to be. Or at least, that's what (Y/N) thought.

But it was also surprising to many because (Y/N) was plenty different from most heirs and children of millionaires. She wasn't arrogant. She didn't use her parents' money as an advantage. And maybe that was why the twins were so drawn to her. She was real. (Y/N) was herself. They could be themselves around her. No trying to please or live up to the expectations held by their fellow classmates, the professors, or even their parents. They could just be, and that was enough.

When it was just Lydia and (Y/N), they did typical girl stuff. It was actually more Lydia doing the girl stuff and (Y/N) reading a book. Lydia appreciated her company nonetheless. She allowed Lydia to talk about Mr. Sutton when she knew she couldn't talk to anyone else.(Y/N) had created a safe place for Lydia. And it was something that both Lydia and James were grateful for.

When it was James and (Y/N), things might have been a tad different. They were agreeably closer. They went for walks together. Studied for the Oxford interviews. Sat in silence listening to music, often resulting in (Y/N) gazing softly at James as he closed his eyes, basking in the moment.

She allowed them to be them.

The three studied together. They went to parties together, even if parties weren’t much of (Y/N)’s thing. But it didn't matter, because James or Lydia was always right there. And they were there for her when she started having health issues and finally diagnosed with hypothyroidism and iron deficiency anemia. They were there for her when she got frustrated with the constant testing and the changing of meds. They knew that it was affecting her hormones and understood it would take time to balance back out. And she was thankful for them. That they never took her snappy comments and fatigued laiden excuses to heart.

(Y/N) knew it before, but when the Twins understood her health issues just as much as her parents did, when no one else would, it had only strengthened her want to support them and be there for them in every way that they were there for her.

And she did just that.

As much as it was wrong and someone should have been told, she saw how happy Lydia was with Mr. Sutton. Although, (Y/N) was certain that she could never look at him in the same way ever again.

She ultimately supported James when he started spending time with Elaine. Even if it hurt and it pained her, because deep down, her heart held a place for him, just waiting for him to come and take it. But she knew he was doing it for Mortimer, being the golden child of the twins. Although she didn't like Mortimer nor the way he treated either one of his children, she supported James wanting to please his father. Didn't mean that she didn't stress to James about being his own person.

And then Ruby Bell came into the picture.

(Y/N) was there for Lydia when she walked up to the group of them at the poolside of their home. James caught (Y/N)’s gaze from where he sat in the pool, her stomach doing a flip before the two went to Lydia, where they found out that Ruby Bell had walked in on her and Mr. Sutton. She was also there for her when ultimately, Lydia would tell her that she was pregnant.

(Y/N) didn't necessarily support James' way of trying to buy Bell out, regardless if it worked or not, but she stood behind him, supporting him regardless. She stood with him and the other boys when the Welcome party was destroyed by the strippers. Lexington was beyond pissed with him, but she supported James regardless for wanting to protect his sister. She wanted to do the same.

And now, here she was, supporting James, although very poorly, as he spent time with Ruby Bell on the planning committee. It was his punishment for the stunt pulled at the welcome party. She understood that. But it didn't mean she liked it.

She watched as over the weeks, the two had spent more and more time together. And although James and (Y/N) still texted plenty throughout the day, the time in which she saw him lessened and lessened as hours moved by. And she understood why, but she knew who he was with, and although she could tolerate Elaine, she couldn't tolerate Ruby Bell.

So (Y/N) did whatever she could to take her mind off of him and Bell. She didn't want to face a heartbreak if he became a couple with her. So she did what she thought was best. Love someone before James loved Bell.

Although it would have been best to talk to him, she did not. She knew this, but refused, because if James being with Ruby would make him happy, she didn't want to get in the way. Even if it tore her slowly apart.

And as the days since the enactment of his punishment grew in number, he spent more time Ruby. Less time with (Y/N). But it gave (Y/N) more time to go on dates to fill that questionable hole of the future. A future that she would prefer with James, but a future nonetheless. Unfortunately, it also left less time to spend with Lydia.

And over time, texts with James became small and quick. They often left (Y/N) staring at her phone in sadness before putting it away. Something had to be done, but she wasn't sure what.

If James cared enough, he would reach out to her. But she was also smart enough to know that it went both ways. But it was just as much her responsibility as it was his to mend things. But nothing had even happened to break things. So why was she acting like this?

And so (Y/N) spent the next few weeks going on dates. Most never made it past the second one. They were not James. And she knew that, yet she still continued to slowly break her own heart without even noticing.

Whenever she saw James with Ruby, she avoided the two, even if James noticed her or not. She kept herself at a distance because she knew in the end she would potentially be safer. But was she really? Was she only doing more damage?

Whenever she moved away and avoided him, she could see the hurt evident in his eyes. Lydia was also confused as to what happened as (Y/N) slowly became quiet to the both of them. The Beaufort twins began to wonder if they did anything.

Neither of them technically did anything wrong.

It was all (Y/N). And she realized that.

News eventually spread that (Y/N) started dating, after for the longest time, she swore it off. She didn't think he would find out. (Y/N) wouldn't think that James would care. But secretly he did, and she was soon to find that out.

The Beaufort twin was jealous. Jealous of the ones that had (Y/N), even if he only had himself to blame. And she Would get her wish for James to do something.

—

(Y/N) was walking down the hallway, her bag slung around her shoulder and her face in a book. It was enough to distract her from who also was in the hallway with her, and it wasn't until she collided with another body that she refocused herself with her surroundings. Especially the person currently standing in front of her.

James Mortimer Beaufort.

She opened her mouth to say his name, but only closed it when her body wouldn't let her, even if her brain screamed for it.

(Y/N)’s eyes danced across his face, taking in his appearance, and in the spur of the moment, quickly turned on her heel, hoping for an escape.

She was quickly stopped, his right arm stretched out, his hand wrapped around her wrist. She now realized she had dropped her book.

“What are you doing?” He asked. (Y/N) stared at him in silence for several moments, before finally turning fully to face him and straightened her posture.

“What am I doing?” She asked. James gave her a hardened stare, almost similar to the one she heard he had given Ruby Bell after hearing what happened.

And both of them knew at this moment that it would be their first actual fight in the several years that they have been friends. Will they make it or break it?

James matched her stare and stance, his hand still wrapped her wrist and she basked in it,loved it, and then hated herself when she pulled it away from him to further prove her point.

“You are going to have to elaborate because I don't know what you're talking about James.” He let out an angry huff through his nose, and (Y/N) had barely missed the look of jealousy that flashed across his face.

“The dating, (Y/N). What are you doing?”

“Oh. I didn't know that you suddenly took on the role of my father, James. What is wrong with me dating?” She asked. (Y/N) was being genuine. What was the issue?

“You swore it off. So why start now, all of a sudden?” At this point in time, (Y/N) could almost feel the jealousy seeping off of James in waves.

“And what happened to hating Ruby Bell?” She asked. “You've been hanging around her so much.”

“What does she have to do with this?” James argued.

“What doesn't she have to do with this, James!” (Y/N) cried out. She threw her hands up in the air, tears threatening to spill. He noticed the tears, wondering really how bad things were. “You came to Maxton Hall after that day Lydia came to us with a sickening hatred for her.”

“Things change, (Y/N).”

“Yea. I guess they do.” She turned to leave again when James stopped her once more. “Let go of me.” (Y/N) snapped. James hesitated, knowing she’d probably leave, but was surprised when she didn't. Dare he say pleasantly surprised.

It was several minutes before one of them spoke.

“When was the last time we hung out James? The last time we were together as friends and not some acquaintances that would be forgotten weeks later? Or how about when was the last time we went over stuff for Oxford? Preparing for the interviews. Talking about the campus and what we'd do once we got there? When was the last time we were just “us” together?” She stared at him for several minutes before he finally spoke.

“And you thought the best way to fix that was by avoiding me? Not only me, but also Lydia?” He asked.

“Oh my goodness! What don't you understand James?”

“I don't know (Y/N). You might have to explain it to me. Because what does me being with Ruby Bell have anything to do with you and me and my sister?” She stared at him, realizing that the conversation had gone off topic. They were no longer talking about her dating. They were talking about them.

“I admit, it had nothing to do with Lydia and I feel like an ass for abandoning her-”

“Understatement.” He huffed out. (Y/N) stared at James, at a loss for words. What was she doing? She was willing to support the twins no matter what. And right now she is failing to do that.

Tears rolled down her cheeks as she stammered and she turned to leave once more, only to be stopped once again. James tugged her against him, his hands coming up to cup her face as she closed her eyes, letting the tears fall. She missed this. She missed him. And she was blaming herself because she might lose it all.

“(Y/N). Look at me.” She hesitated, but slowly opened them. James stared at her, and the jealousy and anger was gone and in was a look of comfort and apologies.

“You want to know why I questioned you about why you were dating?” James asked. A tear rolled down her cheek and he was quick to brush it away.

“Because a crazy rabid squirrel in your head told you too?” She asked, trying to make humor of the situation. He gave her a small smile, a huff of laughter escaping from him.

“Jealousy.” He answered. (Y/N) snorted and James frowned. “What's so funny?”

“Because that's the same reason I started trying to date. I got jealous that you started to spend more time with Bell and not me and I took the irrational way out. And now I feel like arse because I wasn't supporting You guys. I blamed you and it wasn't your fault.”

“But it was my fault. I should have devoted equal time to you as well.” He explained. the two stared at each other for several moments. James gently brushed her cheeks as one of her hands played with the strap of his bag.

It was several more moments of silence before (Y/N) spoke again.

“So are we just going to avoid the elephant In the room?” She asked.

“what's that?”

“We both said our actions were because we were jealous.” It took James a moment to process what she meant. And when he finally did, he glanced down at her lips and then back at her eyes before harshly pulling her in for a kiss. A tiny gasp left her, before she quickly followed suit. A small thud could be heard as her bag fell of her shoulder and onto the floor and her hands found refuge in his hair. She met the ferocity of the kiss equally, letting out a small huff as he pressed her flushed against the wall. One of his hands moved from her face to her waist, pulling her flush against him.

They savored the moment. After so long of nothing, they were going to savor this.

At least that was until they remembered they needed to breathe. Oxygen was a fundamental after all.

“So you don't love her?” (Y/N) asked. James gave her an incredulous look.

“We are both out of breath after just kissing and you ask that? Am I in love with her?” (Y/N) only stared at him in silence, but a small smirk pulled at her lips. She was fucking with him. “Oh darling. You are truly something.” Her smirk softened into a tiny smile as it was now her turn to press a hand to his cheek. James turned his head softly, pressing a kiss to her palm, never breaking eye contact. (Y/N) swore her legs turned to jello just then.

“I missed you.” She finally spoke. “And I'm sorry for being so stubborn.”

“I missed you too, darling. and if anyone has to apologize, it's me.” James’ stare hardened, telling her that he was going to win this apology battle. And she gave it to him. “Oh. And one more thing.” (Y/N) stared at him, waiting.

He paused for several seconds.

“I'll give you the world, sweetheart. Don't forget that.”

-------

Tag list:

@lifeonawhim @honethatty12 @ashamedtobewhitemanswhore27

[blossomarlia]

dressing up

When you're unsure how you feel in the dress the boys bought you, they make sure to re-inspire some confidence. (reupload from previous blog, see navigation for more info!)

poly!jegulus x fem! reader

warnings: mostly fluff, sexual references and implied smut at the end, reader has hair and is able-bodied.

You rub the liquid-soft silk of your dress absent-mindedly between two fingers, eyes locked on your reflection in the bathroom mirror. When you'd tried it on just a few days ago, the shop lady had told you you were a vision; now you're sure she was just trying to sell her product.

You want to blame the sizing- maybe it's too small, the wrong shape, impossible to look good in even if you had the body of a mannequin. But even that doesn't seem plausible. It's a beautiful dress, high-quality with a price to match. There's no alternative: you must be the problem, straining fabric with the parts of you that you wish you could just forget about.

You breathe out as much as you can, trying not to flush with the embarrassment you feel at the thought of having to show your boyfriends just what a mistake it was, encouraging you to spend their money on a pretty dress you can't possibly wear. It was wrong of you to accept the gift. Guilt boils hot and hurting in your stomach as you imagine your lovely boyfriends, so pleased to finally have convinced you to let them sponsor such a luxury. How awful to repay them by looking dowdy and silly and not at all right for something so beautiful.

You think quickly, aware of the expectant pair sitting just seconds away in the living room. You can't pass them without revealing yourself, but the prospect is unimaginable. What a waste of money.

“Baby?” James’ voice, soft and cheerful, sounds from just past the door. Your throat tightens. “Not that we’re too miffed, but we would like to see you at some point. You’ve been in there since we got back from the shops twenty minutes ago.”

Shit. You curse yourself for deciding to come in here for a full-body view of the dress, leaving all your other clothing in the bedroom. Exiting naked would usually warrant rather a happy reaction from the boys, but after looking a few moments more at the outline of your body in the mirror, that doesn't seem like a good option either. “Sorry!”

"Not to worry, sweetheart."

James’ white bathrobe is the only reasonable alternative. You grab it off the hook by the towels and wrap it around yourself, nodding contentedly as it reveals only a sliver of fabric at your chest and nothing more. You might as well be wearing a nightie, for all they know. The dress will just have to be returned, and you'll tell them you couldn't find one that fit- technically correct.

You aim to leave the bathroom casually, but that becomes almost impossible when you open the door and find yourself face-to-face with Regulus, his fist raised as if to knock.

“Hi, Reg!” Too cheery. You tamper down your smile and stand on your tip-toes to kiss him, holding the robe tightly around yourself.

“Hello. I was just going to ask what you wanted for dinner. Are you alright, darling?" He wonders, watching you with storm-grey eyes that always seem to see just a little more than you're expecting them to.

"Of course! Dandy." You supply.

He cocks his head, unmoving. "You’re in an odd mood.”

“What? No. This is my usual mood,” You insist.

“M-hm.” His eyes drop momentarily down to the robe, narrowing. “Any particular reason you're wearing James' robe?” 

“Am I?”

The aforementioned individual appeared, suddenly, grinning. “I don’t mind. Looks great, very sexy!”

You wonder if it's possible for your face to heat so much that it melts.

“Incorrigible, James.” Regulus says softly.

You give him a weak smile, squirming away from the impossible weight of their combined gazes and heading for the bedroom. Regrettably, they follow you.

“Why are you wearing it, angel?” James asks, flopping onto the bed. 

You shrug, searching for an opportunity to get them both to leave you alone to change. The truth is that your own robe would've been much too short, and if they see the bottom of the dress they'll probably ask for the whole thing, and that's just not going to happen. You press your fingers into the soft curve of your lower stomach nervously, taking a few steps backwards until your back hits the wall. James' brows pull together. 

“Um. I don't know.”

The two of them exchange a glance. You understand; you're not exactly behaving in a normal manner.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Regulus asks. You like to think you're better at reading his expressions than most- the slight slant of his dark brows tells you he's concerned, but you can't get a good read on the rest of it.

"Yes, I'm fine! Why are you- I- I'm just a little warm."

"Call me crazy, angel," James says, amused, "But taking off the robe might help with that."

Your reply comes too quickly, to your immediate regret. "No!"

There's a brief silence. You feel like a total idiot, but you're sure it beats the feeling you'd get seeing them pretend to like the way you look right now. You squeeze your eyes shut for second, swallowing hard.

"I'm sorry," You sound mortifyingly close to tears. "Sorry. I just- sorry."

At a total loss, James stares at you from the bed. Regulus touches your upper arm gently.

"There's no need to apologise, darling, just tell us what's happened. What's made you so upset?"

You force yourself to make eye contact. "Please can you both just go while I get changed?"

Their expressions are awful; knowing you're causing such a fuss over something so trivial, so stupid, you feel like just about the worst girlfriend in the world.

“Is there something you're worried we'll see? Bruises, or something?” James asks. "We can go, baby, but if there's something going on it might be better for Reg or me to take a look. You know I was joking when I said I'd break up with you if you got that tattoo of Margaret Thatcher's face."

You deflate, softened by his attempt to break the tension. Regulus rolls his eyes, but you see the corner of his mouth twitch. "What's going on, hm?" He asks quietly.

With a sigh, you stare at the ground, giving up. They're too lovely to stick to your original plan- you'll just have to let it happen, and hope to make up for it another time by looking better.

"...I'm not sure you'll love what you see."

“Of course we’ll love it. We love you.” Regulus says firmly, like it's obvious.

“That doesn’t mean-”

“Angel. Take the robe off, yeah? We’ll prove it to you.” 

At James' insistence, you take a deep breath and stare at the ground as you shrug off the robe, wrapping your arms around your middle. You're keenly aware of the places where your skin presses against fabric, the way it falls, and the heat rushing to your cheeks. Oh, god.

"Fuck." Regulus says, uncharacteristically crude. You curl in on yourself a little further.

“I’m sorry, I know it’s not how it looked on the-”

James interrupts you. “Baby? I’m gonna be honest, because I love you, okay?”

“Okay.” You say meekly, eyes stinging. Maybe it's even worse than you’d thought.

“I cannot hear a single word you are saying when you look that good. Like, a single word. It’s all lost on me. I’m going to need a minute.” 

Regulus’ hands are on you before you could properly react to James’ words, drawing your arms away from your body and taking in the dress with hungry eyes. 

“Exquisite, sweetheart," He exclaims, hands on yours. "I would say you’re never taking this off, but that’s actually all I want to do.”

"What?" You manage, smiling despite yourself. You pull your hands away and press them to your face. "Reg, you don't have to-"

“You thought we wouldn’t want to see this?” Hands on your shoulders, Regulus spins you once, before pulling your back against his chest and planting a heated kiss to the side of your neck. “And you called me crazy?”

“You’re- I’m- what?” You stammer. James makes an unintelligible sound from the bed, pressing a dramatic hand to his heart. "Thank you."

"Don't thank us, angel. Holy shit. I'm thanking you. I'm thanking the gods. I'm thanking-"

"James is very thankful." Regulus whispers into your hair. You laugh out loud, a little giddy at all their praise. "D'you know what I'd be thankful for right now?"

"What?"

"You on that bed, darling," He says. You lean into his touch as his hand slides down your side, squeezing a part of your waist you'd prodded critically in the mirror not ten minutes ago. Now you enjoy the feeling of his warm hands through the thin fabric, enjoy having a shape his hands both appreciate so well. "Off you go."

It's an instruction, now, and you shiver at the authority in his tone as you obey. James is on you before the duvet has even settled, making you gasp as he presses kisses all over your face.

“I’m going to destroy this dress. I’m sorry.” He says earnestly. You giggle happily, insecurities not quite gone but coated in a honey-sweet joy that softens their presence.

“I thought you liked it.”

“M-hm. It’s okay,” His hand finds your thigh and grips it firmly, fingers pressing into soft skin. “We’ll buy you a million more.” 

You let yourself enjoy it all for a moment more before giving any space to the snarky voice at the back of your mind, more out of a desire for reassurance than genuine belief that the two boys on top of you would genuinely do such a thing. "You're not- not just saying all this to make me feel better?"

“Why would we ‘just say’ this?” Regulus murmurs against your right shoulder, forearm across your stomach as he does wicked things to your skin that you'll have to cover in concealer if you want to wear anything sleeveless for a few days.

“...I don't know. Make me feel better?”

“You’re stunning. Literally- how often is James speechless, hm?” 

You laughed. “Hardly ever.” 

“Exactly. You're quite regularly the most beautiful girl either of us have ever seen, darling, whether you're feeling the same way or not,” Regulus leans on his elbow to look at you sternly. "We don't appreciate you this way because you look like somebody else, we adore you because you're yourself, and completely radiant."

“I don’t think you don't like me, I promise. It’s just something that’s in my brain- that I’m ugly, or something. It's silly."”

"It is," James agrees, allowing Regulus to return to whatever he's doing to your collarbone. "But it's not your fault. Your only job is to listen to what we're telling you, instead of your insecurity. Yeah?"

"Yeah," You nod, a little breathless. It's very easy to be agreeable when they're doing all these things to you. James kisses a line down your throat, to your chest, to your arm, slipping the strap of the dress down to follow. “I love you both," You manage.

They answer in their own, doubly enjoyable, ways.

[elegantlyeva]

Can you please do shy!reader with Sirius? but she's a little more comfortable with him? and maybe something with gifts

DAY FIVE

Priceless

Summary: Finding the perfect gift for his perfect person was harder than Sirius thought.

Word Count: 1.1k 

After hours of dragging his feet through shops and flirting his way out of a scolding from two old women—because he shoved their kids trying to get to the front of the line—Sirius has decided he’s done with the holidays.

“What’s wrong with him?” Remus’s voice cut through the haze. He must’ve just gotten out of class.

“He’s being insufferable,” James replied with the kind of dramatic eye roll Sirius didn’t need to see to picture.

He groaned, sinking further into his chair.

“Is it the girl again?” Remus asks, placing his stuff on the table.

“Of course it’s the girl. It’s all he talks about anymore,” James yelps when Sirius brings his hand to smack the back of his head. “Ow.”

“You’re speaking of me like I’m not right here.”

“You’re acting like a sad lump. I told you, girls are easy. Get her flowers and write her name on them.”

“That’s impersonal,” Sirius muttered. “She’s not just any girl. She’s…” He trailed off, not knowing how to put it into words. She was perfect, but that hardly covers it.

“Why don’t you just ask her what she wants?” Remus asks, confused. James answers for Sirius.

“You’ll be alone forever, Moony. What girl wants you to ask? We’re supposed to know what they want.”

“Sounds like rubbish to me.”

“Enough. Both of you. You’re horrible friends and even less help,” Sirius groans.

Remus gives him a kind look and a pat on the shoulder. “S’alright, Padfoot. Have you gotten her anything to work with?”

Sirius sighs, nodding his head. “Practically something from every shop at Hogsmeade.”

“There’s the creepy drawing as well,” James brings up.

“Creepy drawing?”

“I’ll turn your hair green and say you did it to show your admiration toward Severus,” Sirius warns.

James puts his hands up in surrender.

Remus sighs. “Can we please stay on topic? What creepy drawing?”

“I had Roger Hughes help me paint this photograph of her and me together.”

“That’s nice,” Remus says. “What’s the problem?”

“Sirius is a horrible boyfriend,” James quips.

“I’m not her boyfriend,” he replies, rather mournfully. You had told him you wanted to move slowly, and he’s sure it’s because you think he’ll drop you for the next girl.

“I’m worried it’s too much,” he says instead.

“Why don’t you give her a label for the holidays?” James mumbles. Remus hushes him before Sirius can strangle the boy.

James gave a dramatic sigh. “You’ll figure it out. You always do.”

Sirius let the conversation drop, gesturing for them to change the subject.

Two days later, he found you by yourself, your bag slung over your shoulder as you made your way through the corridor. He stepped up behind you, reaching for the handle of your bag to take it off your shoulder.

You flinched, and he cursed inwardly. “Sorry,” he mumbled, pulling his hand back, but you shook your head.

“It’s fine,” you smiled softly, letting him take your bag. “I wasn’t expecting anyone to be looking for me.”

“No? Well, clearly they’ve been poisoned. I would’ve come looking for you earlier had I thought you’d be alone.” He takes your hand in his free one.

You laughed quietly. “Most of my friends have left for break already.”

“Shame,” he said, then added, “Good thing I found you before you started pining for their company.” He laced his fingers through yours, watching as a small smile tugged at your lips.

“Actually,” he said, giving your hand a gentle squeeze, “I got you something.”

Your smile faltered slightly. “Why?”

Sirius blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean why? It’s the holidays, love.”

You narrowed your eyes. “I thought we agreed not to do gifts. You said it was too… relationship-y.”

“That was different!” Sirius protested, squeezing your hand again. “That was for my birthday. You shouldn’t be spending money on me.”

You frowned, clearly unconvinced. “You spent money on me.”

Sirius tsks. “Hush, woman. Let me finish.” Your glare and the urge to kiss you overtakes him, but he keeps his hands to himself.

“Before I give it to you, two things. One, if you poke fun at me, I’ll be heartbroken forever. Two, if you hate it or think it’s creepy—”

“Did you get me a voodoo doll or something?”

“Wh—no.” He frowns. “As I was saying, if you think it’s weird or whatever, I can give you some of the stuff I got you at Hogsmeade. Or if you really want, I can get you basic flowers like James suggested.”

You smile hesitantly, bringing a finger to poke him in the side. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

He sighs. “Yeah, you would say that now.” He grabs something out of his bag—a poorly wrapped square... something.

He makes a move to hand it to you but takes it back. “Open it when I’m gone.”

“Sirius.”

“Fine, fine,” he sighed, finally giving you the package.

You pulled him over to a window ledge, sitting down as you carefully unwrapped it. Your expression softened immediately, face contorting to one of surprise, then fondness. “Oh.”

Sirius ran a hand through his hair, nerves creeping back in. “Oh?”

“Oh,” you repeat.

He sighs. “Darling, I’m gonna need more than that. Is that a good ‘oh’ or a bad ‘oh’?”

“Very pleased ‘oh,’” you say, smiling, cheeks feeling warm.

Relief washed over him. “Yeah?”

It’s a picture—well, a painting—of the two of you. A very pretty one at that. The two of you are outside on the lawn, and Sirius had said something that evidently made you laugh. The way his eyes are painted almost convinces you that he likes you. Like really, really likes you.

“I didn’t know you could draw, much less paint,” you add, a light tease in your words, but your eyes look so kind that he hardly cares.

“I can’t. Well, I couldn’t. I had to pay this Ravenclaw—Hughes—more than I’m willing to admit to teach me how.” 

Then, uncharacteristically nervous, “So, you like it?” You were staring rather hard.

You lean over to press a kiss to his cheek, surprising him for the first time that day.

“I love it. It’s pretty.” wrinkling your nose sweetly, “you put thought into it.”

“Don’t get sappy now.” Then, softer, “I’d like to be your boyfriend.”

He hears your breath hitch, and he’s ready to mask his hurt feelings when you respond, “I’d like to be your girlfriend.”

Sirius grinned, his confidence returning. “Yeah? Means you can’t get all cozy with other boys.”

“What other boys?” you ask, confused and a little dazed, still looking at the painting with adoration.

“Tricked you. If you agreed, I would know you’re seeing heaps of people.”

You laugh, and he can’t help himself any longer, pressing his lips to yours.

You tense at first but soon melt into him, eyes closed and lips soft.

When you pull away, matching smiles are on your faces.

[cryptic--writing]

hihi!

this is for @mustainegf writing comp- I've never written fanfiction (let alone smut) before so i hope this isn't too terrible

(also ik the pic is MOP era but its the only pic of them in the snow with cliff so pretend its RTL era)

word count: 4,334

warnings: fluff, eventual smut (it takes awhile), kissing, really awkward moments, reader blushes way too much and is too nervous around james

𝙏𝙍𝘼𝙋𝙋𝙀𝘿 𝙐𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙍 𝙄𝘾𝙀 (1985 james)

Every so often, my brother, Lars, would allow me to join him and his band, Metallica, on tour. This was one of those every so oftens as the band traveled to our home country, Denmark. I always enjoyed these times traveling with him. I loved the scenes and the music, but, I mostly looked for to getting to spend time with one of his closest friends, James. 

This stop of the tour was a longer one, instead of the regular show-and-go, the five of us were going to spend the weekend here in our place of childhood, Gentofte Municipality, Denmark. We were able to muster the money to rent a 2 bedroom cabin, which wasn't too convenient with five of us planning to stay there the full weekend. 

As much as it would've joyed me to share a bed with James, I knew it would've been awkward for not just us, but the whole band, so I took the couch in the end. Lars and James would share one of the rooms, and Kirk and Cliff in the other. 

The cabin was slightly cramped, for five people at least. The scenery was beautiful, a perfect, homey, and cozy feeling.

It was the second day of our time here, so the place had grown quite messy due to the boy's frequent drinking and rowdy behavior. They had performed the night prior, so the fridge was empty, with nothing to eat or drink.

It was nearing 8 PM, and we were all thirsty and hungry for something to eat.

We were all sitting in the messy living room, scattered with empty cans and bottles of beer with chip bags scattered about as well.

“The storm is only gonna get worse, we should go get something before the stores close.”  Lars finally decided, glancing around the other four of us, who all collectively nodded.

“I’ll go with you, I need to get out anyways, it's too tight in here.” Kirk agreed, standing up to grab the keys of the rental car we had gotten.

“You guys wanna go?” Lars questioned James, Cliff, and I. 

Cliff nodded, standing with a sigh, “Uhm, sure I guess, I’ll go.”

“James? You gonna come?” Lars asked again, to which James shook his head.

“You think I’d go out in that shit? No, I'll stay in here.” He said with a scoff.

Lars nodded with a sigh, “Alright, you?”

I shook my head, “Nah, I'm good.” I said, my tone slightly hesitant.

Lars nodded, saying goodbye as he walked out with the other two, heading towards the car.

It seemed that with them leaving, the room felt hotter, even with missing three bodies. I wasn't paying much attention, my eyes absentmindedly staring at James.

The two of us had never really had time alone, it was always with Lars or the whole band there. I watched as he fidgeted with his thumbs before standing up and walking towards the window, my eyes following his every move.

I didn't think he could see me staring, as I never made it too obvious, but he could feel my eyes boring into him. 

“Storm is only getting rougher out there, it's gonna be a mess when they come back,” James observed, though his words were just an absent hum as I was lost in my thoughts, staring at the man I had been crushing on since I met him. 

My eyes traced each of his features, studying how his messy, long, curly blonde mane draped on his back and shoulders, his muscular frame, and his strong jaw. My thoughts began to wander, too far maybe, thinking of how his bangs would cover his sweat-coated forehead, his muscles twitching as he groaned while.

“Hello? Did you hear me?” His words quickly snapped me out of my thoughts as he caught my eyes with his own. 

I paused, “Uhm.. yeah, what were you talking about?” I said, my face heating, a small pink on my cheeks as he held eye contact with me from across the room.

He rolled his eyes, “I said that the storm outside is getting pretty bad. The guys may struggle to get back before everything freezes. Were you even listening?” 

I nodded, “Yeah, totally, just.. spaced out a bit..” I said, my tone slightly embarrassed. 

I was such a terrible liar, I hadn't even heard a word the man had said. I was too lost in the thoughts of him.

James sighed, walking back towards the couch and sitting next to me.

“Kinda cold in here, don't you think?” He asked, glancing at me as I kicked the blanket off of myself.

Cold? How is he cold? My body feels like it's on fire! With this proximity, just the two of us? How could he be cold?

“Do you dislike questions or something? Or is it me?” He teased me for not responding to his questions for the second time.

“No, sorry, just.. thinking, I guess,” I paused, trying to remember what we were talking about in the first place, “Uh, no, I don't find it too cold. It's kinda hot in here.” I said, my eyes once again wandering to him, though avoiding his own.

“Hot? It's like, 54 degrees in here, it's cold!” He said with a soft laugh.

I shrugged, god how I loved his laugh, so soft and sweet. I forced an answer, “Uh, yeah. Maybe I just need some fresh air outside..” I said, slowly standing up. I could feel his eyes follow me until I reached the front door, though it wouldn't budge. I pushed the door harder, though still, the door didn't open.

“The door is stuck,” I said, giving the door another push.

James stood, walking towards the door, standing closely behind me before gently moving me out of his way and to the side with his hands. I felt my skin burn where he touched, my face turning slightly red. He gave the door a push with all of his body weight, though still, the door wouldn't move.

James moved the curtain away from the window, seeing nothing but white snow. He scoffed in annoyance and surprise, “Seems like we're snowed in.” He stepped back, shrugging his shoulders.

I let out an annoyed groan. Now I truly was stuck in this home with him. The thought always excited me, as I would dream of getting time alone with him. But now that it's in fruition, I couldn't be more embarrassed and nervous. The snow most likely wouldn't be gone until tomorrow afternoon. How would I last with him?

He sighed, sitting down on the couch, and picking  up the blanket I had kicked onto the floor, “You gonna use it?” James asked, watching me as I walked towards him and sat down next to him again.

I shook my head, “Nope, go for it.” I said, keeping a respectable half-foot between us. As much as I’d love to snuggle up to him, I'm not sure if he would.

He laughed softly again, the sound making butterflies flutter in my stomach, “This blanket isn't too warm. How did you and Lars survive living here for more than a few days? It's like the Arctic here!” 

I gave a small laugh and shrugged at his comment, “I'm not sure, guess we just.. adapted.”

James smiled lightly, “I like your laugh, it's.. cute.” He admitted softly, causing me to feel like my face was on fire.

The butterflies were no longer fluttering, but fighting and dancing with each other to get out. I had to force myself to speak, or think. “Oh, uhm..” The words wouldn't come out, I felt like an idiot.

This moment felt like years and years, though it was thirty seconds. Though, James beat me to speak.

“I'm sorry, did I say something wrong? I didn't mean it like that if that's-” He said guiltily before I cut him off,

“No, no, sorry, just, spaced out again. Thank you.” My words were rushed and embarrassed. I still couldn't get over the compliment. It wasn't even a real compliment, just a comment on my laugh.

The room had an awkward, uncomfortable silence for a few minutes. I felt like I could start sweating, which I did. A small bead of sweat formed on my forehead, which I wiped away.

“Why are you sweating? It's cold in here.” James questioned me, which I shook my head in response to.

“No, I'm fine,” I mumbled out, fidgeting with my thumbs.

James nodded, “Alright, well, if you aren't, then I'll turn on the heater if you don't mind.” He said, already walking towards the heater.

I sighed, nodding and forcing a smile, maybe he didn't feel how I did about him, “Sure, go ahead.”

He pushed buttons on the thermostat, trying to get it to turn on, grumbling a few ‘cmons’ to himself as he tried to heat the cabin, which failed. He groaned in annoyance,

“The damn thing won't work! I'm gonna freeze to death in here!” He complained, which he seemed to do a lot of.

I was starting to cool down, even though my face was still slightly warm. Was I really that needy for him? Pathetic.

James sat back down on the couch, though leaving no gap like how I had. The heat of my face began to build again, only after a short break of peace. He stretched his arms out, his long, strong arms across the top of the couch, like how they did in cheesy rom-com. 

His fingers brushed my shoulder, making me tense slightly. He had to know what he was doing. As if he knew how I felt, he moved even closer, our legs now touching, even with his blanket on his legs. I glanced up at him, catching his gaze. Was he staring at me? I didn't know if I should say something, but holding eye contact like this, this close, just felt.. Weird. It was something I had only dreamed of, except my dreams were never this awkward.

“What's up?” I forced myself to ask, dying to break the awkward silence.

James shrugged, “Nothing, just..” He trailed off, his eyes still on mine.

I could feel a change in the air, no longer friendly, but now with a hint of something more. 

I couldn't take my eyes off of him, he was so captivating, and he couldn't let go of my eyes either. 

Eventually, I couldn't stand the tension, deciding that it'd be best if I started to get ready for bed. “Uhm, I'm gonna start getting ready and put on my pajamas,” I said softly, breaking my eyes away from his as I got up and walked towards the bathroom.

James nodded, “Alright.” He acknowledged, waiting for me to return as his eyes followed me until I vanished into the bathroom.

I stood in there, staring at the mirror. For once I felt the coldness James was talking about. Maybe it was the room, maybe it was the tension, or maybe it was how I felt for him truly bubbling to the surface. I've always had a massive crush on him, but we've only had maybe 4 conversations alone that had nothing to do with the band or Lars. 

I took a deep breath, quickly changing out of my sweatpants and t-shirt island into a tank top and shorts, which was not practical for weather like this, but it's what I had. I opened the door and stepped out into the living room. I was freezing and didn't see James, which confused me.

“In here,” James called out from Lars and his room. I spun around, walking down the short hallway and into the doorway, seeing him sitting on the bed in a shirt and sleep pants. I was shivering slightly, the cold air stinging my skin for the first time since the rest of the band had left. It was a relief, though I quickly got tired of the cold.

“Ya cold? You're shaking a bit.” James noticed, and I could feel his eyes raking over my now more revealed figure.

I was never one to wear smaller, skimpier clothes, so this was a sight few got to see, and I never expected James Hetfield, my crush of 3 years to see me like this. I still handt answered and a few seconds had passed. I shrugged with a nod, 

“Yeah, a bit,” I admitted, crossing my arms on my chest as I tried to rub my hands up and down my arms to warm myself up.

“Maybe I could. Warm you up a bit?” He asked, slightly hesitant. His eyes didn't meet mine, as they were too busy tracing my figure.

I froze a bit. There were so many ways to interpret that. A blanket? Warm drink? Cuddling? Making out? Or even-

“Like cuddling, or, if you don't want to it's fine.” He muttered, embarrassed that he even asked.

I nodded, a small blush creeping up on my cheeks, “Oh, uh, sure, yeah..” I agreed softly, walking towards him as he moved across the bed, lying down, and getting under the covers. I sat down on the bed, giving him a glance at the question, which he didn't answer, but I took it as a yes. I lay down next to him, moving closer, feeling his arms wrap around my waist, making my face burn up again. James pressed his chest against my back, I could feel every muscle of his against my back, my heart beating faster.

“You ok? You seem tense.” James questioned me, and he was right, I don't think I’ve ever been more nervous and excited at once.

“No, I'm fine,” I muttered. Though, he wanted to test that. It was almost like he knew that he was the source of the tension in my body. He moved closer, pressing himself against me, making me burn red in my cheeks, and my heart beat faster if that was even possible.

“Am I bothering you? I'm not that scary, I promise.” He teased me.

I tensed slightly at his teasing, how could I ever play this down? It was clear he knew what he was doing, and it was driving me crazy.

“No, I'm fine, James,” I muttered, my words rushed.

He chuckled softly at my reaction, leaning his face closer to the back of my neck, his warm breath causing goosebumps. It was getting harder to deny what he was doing was having a major effect on me. His lips ghosted the back of my neck, making me bite back a whine of need, feeling heat pool between my kegs.

As much as I had dreamt of this moment, god, it was torturous. 

After another minute of his teasing, I couldn't take any more of it. I rolled onto my side, now facing him, my eyes meeting his. He gave a sly smirk, which only seemed to irritate me. We stared at each other for what felt like years, though it was mere seconds. Slowly, I leaned into him, pressing a soft, gentle, and loving kiss to his lips, and he reciprocated. This was something I had only ever dreamed of. 

The kiss felt like hours, though it was brief. We pulled back from each other, our eyes meeting, a small smile on both of our lips.

“You aren't great at hiding your feelings, you know?” James teased me. I rolled my eyes,

“Oh shut up, James,” I mumbled against his lips before kissing him again, this time with more need and freedom.

He nipped at my bottom lip, asking for entrance which I allowed, and what was once an awkward night on the couch changed into a steamy makeout session in bed.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him even closer as he tangled his fingers in my hair.

The moment only grew more intense, a plethora of soft moans and groans escaping our lips. I had never felt so alive, so good.

We began to run out of breath, pulling away and gasping for breath. James pulled me on top of his, kissing him again. 

No words left our mouths, just filthy noises as we ravished each other's mouths. I straddled his hips with my legs, making him groan as I hovered above him. He pulled away from the kiss, staring up at me in awe,

“God, you're something else..” He mumbled, snaking his hands under my tanktop, pulling it over my head, exposing my breaths, my nipples hardening at the cold air, making me shiver slightly as goosebumps rose on my skin.

He groaned at the sigh, his hands reaching up to toy with them, making me moan softly, causing him to smirk, “You sound so pretty..” He murmured, squeezing them and pinching my nipples making me squeal.

I reached my hands down towards his shoulders, trailing my fingers down to the hem of his shirt, taking it off of him and seeing his sculpted body, making me blush at the sight. 

I had never imagined that this trip would lead to this, but I was loving every minute of it. 

My eyes roamed over his chest, taking in the sight I dreamed of. He noticed my staring, giving me a teasing grin,

“What? See something you like?” He teased me with that stupid grin. I rolled my eyes, moving off his lap so I could remove his pants, dragging them down his legs to reveal his hardness pressing against his boxers, making me smirk a little at the sight. 

I couldn't help but tease him a little, similar to how he did me, gently tracing the outline of it with my finger, making him groan at my touch, light as a feather. 

He adjusted, sitting up more, leaving me with better access as I snaked between his legs, continuing to toy with him, darting my tongue out, tracing along the fabric, earning me a much louder groan.

“You're cruel..” He groaned out, gripping my hair. I chuckled at his complaints and groans,

“You were doing the same thing to me just a bit ago..” I teased him back in response, which he wasn't pleased with, groaning again as he tightened the grip on my hair.

After a few more minutes of torturing him, milking him of his whines and groans before pulling away, admiring the wet spot now clearly evident on his boxers. I glanced up at him, wanting to make sure he wanted to do this.

“Are you sure?” I asked though I was praying full-heartedly that he'd say yes.

He nodded, “Fuck yes Im sure, hurry up..” He groaned, and I smiled, pulling down his boxers.

I gawked at the size, his cock standing proud and tall, and I could feel myself growing wetter at the sight alone.

I paused for a moment, staring down at his erection and back up at him. I had only had sex once or twice, and I was slightly unsure of what to do, which James took notice of.

“If you do not want to, that's fine, I don't wanna make you-” I quickly cut him off,

“No, this is something I've wanted forever, James. Just, I'm a bit nervous. I've only done things like this once or twice.” I admitted, embarrassed by my inexperience, especially in front of a guy who probably gets with groupies every night or so.

James nodded understandingly, sensing my fear. “That's fine, I'll guide you.” He assured me, and it helped a bit.

I nodded, sitting up and slipping out of my shorts, leaving both of us naked except for my panties. James couldn't take his eyes off me, reaching his hand out to the waistband before glancing up at me,

“Can I?” He asked gently, to which I nodded quickly, watching as the garment was discarded, James tossing it to the floor and his eyes raked over my fully exposed form, taking in every detail as if he was putting it to memory. I waited a moment before sitting back on him, straddling him, my hips hovering over his tip. 

I glanced at him again, not wanting to rush things. He nodded, giving me the final ok as I sank onto him, a loud moan escaping my throat as he groaned, filling me fully and instinctively reaching for my hips, which he gripped so tightly I was sure he'd leave bruises. I sat there a moment, still adjusting to his size, as he was much bigger than the other man I had been with, I didn't feel anything, at least emotionally, but now I did.

Slowly, he began to thrust his hips up, making me moan as I slowly matched his movements, riding him as he pumped himself deeper into me.

Each of his movements allowed filthy, obscene noises to escape my lips. He moved my mouth to my neck, kissing and sucking on my sensitive flesh, stimulating me greatly, causing,e to whine and moan more.

James was breathing heavily on my neck, groaning with each thrust, “God, you're so beautiful.. So tight.. So pretty, all for me..” He groaned against my neck, slowly increasing his pace, and making me moan louder.

I needed to hold something, gripping his shoulders and digging my nails into his flesh, making him hiss through his teeth as he continued to pump into me.

I could feel myself growing tighter, clenching around him as I neared my release.

As if the pleasure couldn't grow anymore, he reached his thumb down and began to toy with my clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure and need through me, making me moan louder as he continued to leave hickeys and bite marks all over my neck, marking me as his.

“You're doing so well.. Taking me so well.. You're so good..” He whispered praises to me in between his kisses, making me whine.

He continued all of his ministrations, rubbing my clit and sucking on my neck, pumping his cock deeper, faster, and harder into me, all overwhelming my senses.

“Fuck.. James, I.. I'm gonna..” I moaned out, feeling myself clench around him tighter as he groaned louder.

“Me too, baby.. Just let go..” He whispered to me, and with one final, harsh rub to my clit I came undone around him, moaning his name so loud that anyone nearby probably heard, but I didn't care. The man I've wanted for years just made me feel so good, and now he's mine, and I'm his.

He came at the same time, shooting his load deep into me, painting my insides white.

My hole continued to milk him of every last drop, pulsing around him until I could feel him soften, pulling his face away from my neck and resting my forehead against his.

“I love you, James. I have since we met..” I whispered to him, and he smiled softly in response.

“I love you too.” He murmured back to me, kissing me gently and the lips as I pulled off of him, laying down beside him as he stood up, “I’ll go get a towel to clean us up, ok?” He informed me, and I nodded with a smile.

He returned with a damp washcloth and a dry towel, carefully wiping up my most sensitive areas, not wanting to hurt me. 

After he finished, he laid back down next to me, wrapping his arms around me, whispering sweet nothings and praises to me as we slowly fell asleep.

“I love you.. You're so beautiful..” James mumbled to me softly before falling asleep, and I followed soon after.

In the morning

As the sun rose, the snow slowly began to melt, freeing the door of its lack of movement.

The rest of the guys had returned, having gotten so drunk they decided to stay at a different hotel for the night.

I woke up to the sound of the front door opening, too groggy and half asleep to get up and see who or what it was, moving closer to James’ hold, which he seemed to enjoy in his sleep. I glanced around the room, taking in the surroundings.

Our clothes were scattered on the floor that surrounded the bed, though I didn't pay it any mind, as no one would come in or care.

Though, it seems I had thought wring when Lars barged through the door.

“What the fuck happened here?” He yelled out at James and me. The sight was a messy one, the two of us cuddled up, limbs sprawled, hair messy, various hickies and marks on my neck, and with our clothes all over the floor didn't paint a good light.

I was quickly snapped out of my sleepy state, pulling the blanket over my chest as James began to wake up.

“Get out!” I shouted at my brother.

He had seen me with a guy one other time, but that guy wasn't his best friend or his bandmate. He didn't move for a moment, just shaking his head as James groaned, still waking up.

“..What..?” James asked, his voice groggy and full of sleep, rubbing his eyes as he took in the sight of Lars in the bed frame, the other guys not far behind him.

“Did you sleep with my sister?” Lars called back at James.

I could feel my face heating up, god how embarrassing this was.

“I said get out you dickhole!” I yelled back at Lars, who scoffed and shut the door.

James was still half asleep, looking at me, slightly confused, “What's going on..?” He asked me sleepily.

“Lars isn't happy that I fucked you,” I admitted, still really embarrassed about this.

James scoffed, “Whatever, I’ll talk to him.” He muttered, tossing his arm around me.

“What will you tell him? He seems to have quite the stick up his ass about this.” I complained, my eyes meeting his.

“That I love you.” He answered with a smile, kissing me gently on the lips.

[pretty-little-mind33]

Christmas Special

dad!James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: James wants to make his family's Christmas special.

Genre: Fluff <3

Warnings: pure happiness, implied sexual relationship

James's family was never one for decorating for Christmas. Or rather, decorate in ways younger James dreamed of. He knew his parents loved him dearly, but while money could buy many things, it could never buy him the time with his parents he so desperately craved.

Often, he would spend Christmas alone with the housekeepers and although he'd pretend he didn't mind so he wouldn't disappoint his parents, or hurt his housekeepers' feelings, when he lay alone in his room he couldn't help but feel lonely. 

So, considering this was James's very first Christmas with you and your one-year-old son, you knew he was overly determined to make this evening special. 

You wake to a loud crash coming from the kitchen, accompanied by an even louder hiss of pain and curses, as well as a shrill scream of a baby. You sit up abruptly, fear washing over you until you hear James shout from downstairs. "Ah, shit, fuck, shhh, I got it, baby! Stay in bed, please!" Another crash is accompanied by the sound of footsteps rushing up the stairs and a small smile curls at your lips.

You don't listen to your husband as you pull yourself away from the warmth of your covers and make your way downstairs. It smells like burnt cinnamon cookies when you enter the kitchen and your eyes round. An array of pots and utensils, in various degrees of cleanliness, are scattered across the counters. Your frown deepens as you feel overwhelmed by the mess. 

"Darling?" James's voice pops the bubble in your mind and you look at him. He's standing in the doorway with Henry, your son, sitting on his hip. His messy curls are messier than usual and the brown is sprinkled with white specks of flour to match the patch on his cheek. He sends you a weary smile. 

"What happened?" you ask, looking at the faint tears in your son's little eyes from being woken up much too early. His small hands have found home in James's messy hair and he's smiling now, happy to be in his father's arms. When you walk over and scoop Henry into your arms, he makes a small sound of disapproval but nuzzles into you anyway. James looks a little guilty.

Holding Henry with one arm under him, you move closer to your husband and swipe your other hand over the dust of flour on James's nose. "You're a mess, honey," you say, hiding a small smile with a playfully annoyed frown.

James clasp his hands together to remove the flour and then runs a hand in his hair. "I didn't mean to wake you or Henry," he says solemnly and looks around at the mess. "I wanted to surprise you with some Christmas cookies."

You laugh. "Well, I'm certainly surprised – just with a lack of cookies," you joke.

Hearing your laughter, Henry giggles and squirms as his hands find themselves at the ends of your hair and he pulls happily. "Oww," you groan, tilting your head in the direction he's pulling so the pain will hurt less. James moves in closer and gently unclasps Henry's little fists around your hair.

"No, bud. It hurts Mummy when you do that," he coos and holds Henry's hands instead.

You pass him to James, going to fix your hair. "Thanks," you sigh. 

James smiles and holds Henry, mouthing and mumbling things as he tickles his son’s sides. "Do you think I should put him back to bed? It's only 7am," James asks in a baby-voice and he follows you around the kitchen as you access the mess. 

You turn to him and tickle Henry's stomach, which earns you a little squirm and giggle. "If you think Henry is going back to sleep after this, you're mistaken." 

James nods and then brings Henry to his high-chair and sets him down. After a kiss on the forehead, James turns around and Henry reaches for the wand in his back pocket of his jeans. As he holds it in his hand, you leap up and take your husband's wand from your son and throw it to James.

"You have to be more careful with this, Henry could hurt himself," you reprimand as James sheepishly twirls his wand around his finger. 

"I'm sorry," he says and then raises his wand and mutters as a spell that makes the clutter float around the room and clean themselves until the kitchen is sparkly clean. You walk over to him, sliding a hand up his bare arm and press a kiss to his cheek.

"Come on," You whisper with a smile and pat his arm, "Henry must be hungry, I'll get him some applesauce and you can start those cookies again, hmm?"

* * *

Once the evening rolls around, James seems to have calmed down a little. His nerves don't seem as on high-alert as he adjusts his hair in the mirror and you smile at how happy his reflection looks. You stand, adjusting the reindeer antlers on your head and wrap your arms around his shoulders. You press your nose to his back and inhale. "You smell like Christmas," you smirk, catching his eye in the reflection, "New cologne?"

James touches your hands and turns around to twirl you. Your green dress swirls and he grins at your wide smile. "Mmhmh, you look stunning," he whispers, pulling you in and kissing your cheek. You giggle.

You hear the doorbell and James's eyes light up like a child. "They're here!" he exclaims and with quick nervous movements he positions your antlers to his liking and kisses your forehead. "Go say hi and I'll wake Henry from his nap."

You laugh at his antics, calling after him as he scrambles to your son's room. "Hurry!"

When you make your way downstairs and open the door, Remus and Sirius stand in front of the others. Remus is dressed in the ugliest Christmas sweater and Sirius, who hangs on his arm, has a matching one. Equally as ugly on him and they look adorably stupid. Sirius seems ecstatic to see you as he is practically jumping up and down with excitement. 

"Where is he?"

Clearly, his excitement is for someone else. You open the door a little wider. "James? Oh - he's upstairs with – "

Suddenly, Sirius brushes past you and opens his arm wide as he sees your husband and son. Henry is rubbing his eyes sleepily but he's dressed in his reindeer costume, the soft headband fit around his ears and James had drawn on a little reindeer nose with some of your cherry-blast lipstick. Sirius happily crushes them both in a hug as he exclaims, "There's my boy!" 

You're not sure if he means James or Henry, but you aren't even sure Sirius knows the answer to that as he pokes Henry's little red nose and tousles James's hair, just below his own pair of Christmas antlers. The ones that match yours. "Look at you and your little deer-ling family," Sirius smirks, happy with his pun. 

Remus touches your arm and, returning into the world of adults, you turn and he leans down to kiss your cheeks. "You look well, Moony," You say, searching his face for any scars you haven't seen but find none. 

Remus just smiles timidly. "Sirius has been taking excellent care of me," he assures you with a smile and you can tell the smile is meant for himself instead of you. "Seems like Jamie has been doing the same?" Remus teases as he looks behind you at your husbands. 

You look at them too. James and Sirius are cooing at Henry, and the latter is laughing happily as Sirius tickles under his fuzzy-sock covered feet. You grin, nodding. "Oh yeah, we've all been well. Jamie was so antsy for your arrival, he woke us up at 7am to bake cookies." you laugh. 

James pipes up, "Objection your honor. Those cookies were for you and Henry, no one else," he insists and you can hear the pout in his voice.

"Well, those cookies were non-existent but we did make some other ones for everyone. I bet Henry would want to show you all inside, hmm?" You hum, watching Henry's look of excitement at the mention of cookies. 

James puts Henry down on the floor, holding up his hands, and passes him to Sirius, "Here bud, why don't you and Uncle Sirius find the cookies in the kitchen, ok?"

Henry seems more than happy to have Sirius walk with him to the kitchen, and judging by Sirius's wide grin, he doesn't seem to mind spending time with Henry either. James pats Henry's head one last time before Henry and Sirius disappear towards the kitchens.

James walks over and hugs Remus hello, his arm then twisting around my waist as he stares into my side and looks at me, "Isn't my lovely wife just so pretty with her little antlers?" James flicks one and you laugh.

"She's lovely, Prongs. Your entire family is," Remus compliments. 

James stands prouder and kisses your temple. Then, he looks at Remus, "Are you and Sirius thinking about kids yet?"

Remus rolls his eyes. "Ask Sirius, he's still a child himself."

You put your hand on Remus's arm comfortantly. "Give him time, Remmy. I promise he'll be ready sooner than you think and when he is, I know Henry will be over the moon to have a playmate!"

"Henry will have a playmate way sooner than when those two dimwits finally decide to have kids, my lovely," James suddenly whispers into your ear and adds with a wink, "If you know what I mean." You feel heat creep up your cheeks. 

Remus doesn't catch on as he hears Sirius laugh from the living room and you lead him and James into the room, where Sirius has found the plate of cookies and Henry sits happily on his lap, munching on a cookie comically large compared to his small hand.

The living room is decorated with hollies, christmas lights, and you're burning a candle so it smells like cinnamon and vanilla. A small mistletoe hangs in the corner of the room: mostly for decoration but James has pulled you under it a few times. Which, no matter how many times you tell him that's not how a mistletoe works, he still pressed his lips to yours with a love sick smile.

 "Mummy," Henry shrieks upon seeing you and the little antlers on his head slip over his eyes. 

Sirius bounces him on his knee, adjusting the antlers, which makes Henry laugh but he still holds out his arms for you as the cookie in his hand falls to the floor near Sirius's shoe. Sirius looks at the mess and pouts, "Whoopsies, here ya' go Harry." You smile at the nickname and walk over, taking Henry from Sirius's knee and into your arms. 

Sirius dusts crumbs from his pants as he stands next to you. He runs a thumb under Henry's lip to catch a crumb, and then Henry hides his face in the crook of your neck. His nose rubs near your collarbone and you laugh at the sensation and smooth a hand down Henry's back.

"I don't know how you do it, Y/n/n," Sirius says with a smile, his eyes trained on Henry.

You look at him, a low laugh threatening to escape your throat. "I have help," you say and look behind you as James and Remus chat near the fire. 

Sirius rolls his eyes and puts his hand on your shoulder and leans in to whisper in your ear, "Help dressing up your baby like a forest animal maybe," Sirius jokes and you pretend to cover Henry's little reindeer ears that come with his antlers. Sirius chuckles at the gesture and quickly kisses your cheek before joining Remus and James. 

Another hour passes as guests multiply and cookies turn into dinner, and then the low hum of Christmas music plays in the background as bowls of pudding sit on the table counter. Marlene and Lily play with Henry on the couch and people chat, only slightly buzzed from the champagne.

One of James's arms is wrapped around your waist, his other hand holding yours up as he holds you close. You giggle as he twirls you around and when you come back into his chest, he leans in head against your shoulder and you let out a breathy, "It's late, James. I should put Henry to bed." 

James frowns and makes a small tuts sound as he kisses your collarbone where a lipstick stain remains from Henry's nose. "I'll put him to bed later, darlin'. Don't you worry. Just focus on having fun with our friends. Plus," James spins your bodies around so his back is to the couch. You can see Henry is grinning happily as Lily plays peek-a-boo with him. "Henry looks fine."

You hide a smile and whisper as you hold James, "His little eyes are droopy, Jamie."

James pouts and pulls you in closer. "Just a little longer? I feel like I haven't seen you all day."

"You have seen me all day," you kiss his cheek, which James gingerly turns into a full kiss as he angles your head. You laugh and wrap your arms around his shoulder as his hands slide down your sides to hold your ass. 

"Not in the way I want," he whispers gruffly and you pull away and slap his chest.

"We're in public!" you hiss with a smile. 

"Unfortunately." 

"This party was your idea," you stare into his eyes as James's hands move to the small of your back and he grins.

"I have really stupid ideas sometimes," he admits and kisses you quickly. It's not long enough to warrant attention from your friends, but just enough to leave you craving more. Your head follows him as he leans away and he smirks. James turns to your friends and says, "Alright, where's my little reindeer?" 

Gently you take your husband's arm before he can fully finish his sentence and move away from you. You pull him back and whisper in his ear, "If you get them out of here quickly, I'll let you fill my stocking once Henry is asleep," your voice is smooth and it sends a shiver up James's spine as you wink. 

The blush on his cheek remains crimson when he claps his hand, getting everyone's attention. "Okay," he strides over, looking for Henry as Henry's small form is hidden behind Lily again. "Someone find me my son so he can be put to bed or I swear," he says in a mutter and you can't help but laugh.

[moonstruckme]

hi there, you did a james drabble some time ago with financially insecure reader and i'm just wondering if that's something you'd write again! maybe one where james is showering the r in gifts and they're just thinking "this is so expensive, you shouldn't be spending so much on me" and james comforts them? totally fine if you don't though, thank you anyway 💐

Thanks for requesting <3

cw: reader is financially insecure

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 825 words

When you go to put on your shoes, yours aren’t there. In their place is a lookalike pair, but whole and squeaky clean where yours are worn and dirty. 

“Jamie?” you call. Excitement and dread mixing up in your gut until they’ve become one thing. 

“Yeah?” Your boyfriend’s head pops out of the kitchen. His eyes fall to where you’re sitting on the floor, the new pair of shoes in front of you, and his smile breaks out like a sunrise. “Oh, yeah. I got you something.” 

“They’re for me?” You hold the one shoe up in front of you like a foreign object, speechless. 

James laughs. “Well, they’re not likely to fit me. Yeah, angel, they’re yours.” 

Something guilty twists in your gut. You take a breath. “Thank you.” 

“It’s no big deal.” 

“It is. And I appreciate it, but—” 

“But?” 

“But I can’t accept these.” You set the shoes back down on the floor, looking up at him remorsefully. “It’s too much.” 

“Sweetheart,” James laughs. He leans his hip against the wall, giving you a fond look. “Don’t be silly. You needed a new pair. Your old ones are torn to shreds.” 

“They’re not that bad,” you say embarrassedly. 

“There’s a rip in the side big enough to stick your entire foot out of.” 

“I know they’re not perfect.” Your voice goes a tad sharp, and James’ smile starts to slip as he realizes he’s the only one who’s joking. “I’m going to get another pair eventually, but I just can’t afford it right now.” 

“Hey.” He lowers himself down onto his haunches next to you, voice and expression going extra gentle. “It’s okay. Now you don’t need to worry about it, because you have them, right?” 

You suck on your bottom lip, feeling your expression pinch as you shake your head at him. He doesn’t get it. How could he? James has never been in a position where he was forced to take and couldn’t afford to give. 

“I know you’re just trying to help,” you say, tempering your tone, “and I really do appreciate it, Jamie, but you give me so many gifts and I—” 

“Okay, hold on.” He sets a hand on your knee, still with that indulgent look on his face. “There haven’t been that many.” 

You give him an exasperated look. Just last week it had been chocolates from the fancy shop downtown, and before that he’d gone back for a skirt you’d passed by because it was out of your price range. You know he hasn’t forgotten. 

“But how many have I given you?” 

James blinks. “Um. You gave me that nice waffle iron for my birthday.” 

It sounds like a lame gift when he says it out loud, compared to all the things he’s gotten you since then, but you’d skimmed savings off the tops of your paychecks for three weeks to get him that. Your face is beginning to feel hot. You’re not ashamed of how much you make, but it’s frustrating to think about how your boyfriend won’t ever be able to understand the way you think about money, why you get so stressed out about it, how you’re constantly worried it will run out. 

“It just makes me uncomfortable to take so many things from you when I can’t give anything back,” you admit. “I know that’s not why you’re doing it, but it makes me feel bad.” 

James’ brows press close together. His hand smooths from your knee up your thigh, and you can see how hard he’s trying to understand. It makes you feel even worse. 

“I don’t want you to feel bad,” he says. “You know I don’t care if you get me things, right?” 

“I know,” you promise him. “It’s just, I care.”

He nods, a warm sort of concern in his expression. “Then what do you want to do, angel?” 

You take his hand from your leg, tracing the lines with your fingers. “Maybe we could keep gifts to birthdays and holidays?” you ask tentatively. 

“Hm. Yeah, I think I can manage that. Like Easter?” 

You smile down at his hand. Kiss one of his fingertips. “Maybe only the traditionally gift-giving holidays.” 

James sighs heavily, but it’s for show. “Fine. Hey.” He closes his fingers around yours, and you look up to find him studying you with soft, kind eyes. “You know I’m not upset, right?” 

You drop your gaze again. “I’m just sorry I’m not being more grateful. They’re really nice gifts.” 

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he leans closer, touching his lips to yours sweetly, “but I don’t need you to be grateful. I’m glad you told me how you felt. It’s only fun if you enjoy them, yeah?”

“I do enjoy them,” you say. James smiles, bringing your hand to his face and kissing your palm. 

“Good. Then keep the shoes, please? If you keep using those other ones through winter I’m afraid your feet will fall off.”