#lavender brown deserves better

[emmathecasualauthor]

2, 4,6,8,10,12,16,24 chose violence game

😈

I see you're choosing violence as well

Bet.

Thanks for the ask!! I'll do my best to answer :)

4: what was the last straw that made you finally block that annoying person?

Genuinely I haven't blocked anyone haha. Unless you count the porn bots. I've blocked plenty of those.

6: which ship fans are the most annoying?

Jegulus fans make me depressed ngl. the more they try to get me to ship it the more I resist

8: common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

This is so controversial but I actually like the epilogue. Truly.

10: worst part of fanon

The characterization of Remus. Lupin. Oh good heavens the damage that has been done to his character. rip remus you'd hate it here.

12: the unpopular character that you actually like and why more people should like them

Andromeda black deserves so much more love than she gets She's such a complex and often underappreciated character. Despite her birth into the Black family, she defies the rigid, prejudiced ideals that surround her, and at a potential cost to her life. she's iconic and I love her.

16: you can't understand why so many people like this thing (characterization, trope, headcanon, etc)

I will never ever understand why people like the idea of Dramione. I've tried to like it, really I have, but I just can't do it.

19: you're mad/ashamed/horrified you actually kind of like...

Okay so. Here's the thing. I kind of lowkey seriously ship Harry/Parvati Patil. Like. I think they had potential. Mainly because of one singular interaction where they share a mutual exasperation at Ron and Lavender's constant make out sessions. I can see them bonding over this and reconciling that horrible Yule Ball date. They become friends and then write letters over the summer and- Well there you go. I wouldn't say I'm necessarily ashamed or mad, per se, but as a hardcore Hinny shipper it makes me die a little inside.

24: topic that brings up the most rancid discourse

Whether or not James Potter was a bully to Snape. You could absolutely argue that he was, but also apparently Snape gave as good as he got. But yeah generally speaking I stay away from that discourse and don't touch it with a ten-foot pole

Thanks again for the ask!!

:)

Choose violence ask game

(sorry I had to do some major edits to this because I'm so sleep deprived and got the numbers mixed up lol i hate me)

[wisebeth]

i knew percy jackson was superior to harry potter when both series introduced a love triangle in the last second book to cause angst between the main pairing and how both authors handled it so differently.

we had jkr, who turned lavender into a joke and mocked her interests and whole character, looked down upon her for being a teenager with a crush just to uplift hermione as the better love interest for ron and handled the whole triangle with very obvious misogynistic undertones to show why hermione is superior to the other woman™.

and then we had rick, who treated rachel with respect and gave her a likable personality and goals and interests of her own, had percy and rachel develop a genuine friendship and even gave rachel some iconic moments to shine on her own, never bashed rachel to uplift annabeth and most importantly concluded the love triangle with annabeth and rachel becoming friends and letting go of their past beef.

[v-h-lupin]

something i realized about chamber of secrets (and about Ginny Weasley)

Ginny weasley is harshly judged far too often-- and we know that. We're fixing that. It's mostly because of the movies. however I have just realized something interesting that I am surprised I never noticed before.

Context: hi my name is cupid. I'm writing a fanfic with an oc that is a gryffindor girl in ginny's year. I have had this oc since i started reading harry potter (about... 12 or 13 years ago) . Also JKR is not welcome here, I hope that cyberbullying lawsuit costs her big.

We've all kinda realized by now that there was a low birth rate for wizards in the 70s-early eighties, because Hogwarts was made for hundreds of children but Harry's "grade level" is remarkably small, and theres generally a lower birth rate during wars.

Since I've always had this oc, I've always had her be Ginny's friend. She's always been around, so I guess I just never realized... I cannot believe I've never noticed that Ginny would have been the ONLY gryffindor girl in her year.

There is no other canonical female gryffindor student in Ginny's year.

To this I say: NO WONDER SHE WAS POURING INTO THAT DIARY!

she had no one in her dorm room! she had no friends to study with in the common room at night. She had no one. Poor baby girl didn't even have a roommate!!

In my fic I had Ginny and Vic stay with the girls in the year above them, because I didn't think that they (two 11 year old girls with no experience being on their own) should be left to their own devices with no one else. So I had them room with Hermione, Lavender, and Parvati (I am not including Padma, because she's a Ravenclaw, she was only made a Gryfinndor in the movies).

But canonically speaking, each year had their own dorm room.

SO...

Ginny was alone.

How did i never notice?!?!

edit: apparently there are 2 unnamed gryffindor girls in her year. i really wish they'd actually been given names.

[starcrossedrose]

@solembum22

favorite character from any media BUT it has to be a woman. in the tags now go (pls talk to me about your favorite fictional women pls pls pls pls)

[daydreams-after-dark]

"Stop Lift" button

NSFW // AU LEE KNOW FANFIC // female reader x Lee Minho spicy short story. Work colleagues to lovers.

You and Lee Know work together but when you find out he’s moved into the same apartment building as you things get steamy in the elevator

Approx 3.5k words

Warnings below

Warnings: elevator sex // oral sex (both rec) // unprotected vaginal sex // orgasms // dirty talk // names "slut", "whore" // nudity // masturbation // vibrators // panty fetish

You hop in the elevator of your apartment building and press the button for the 4th floor. It’s late afternoon, around 4pm, and you were able to get away from work a little earlier than usual. Well, actually you gave yourself a well deserved early mark because you had finally finished a project you'd been working on. It’d had taken you months. Months of brain energy, late nights and a shit load of coffee.

You're feeling so good that you'd decided to use the lift rather than climbing the stairs. The lift is unreliable at best. When it’s not breaking down, it’s slow and clunky and makes this weird whiny noise as it moves up and down the lift shaft. The stairs would have been quicker but hey, you have heels on, and you're wearing your new lavender knit wrap dress. It clings to all the right places. You feel like sex on legs. Someone who is sex on legs does not take the stairs. Right?

The lift doors haven’t even closed yet, it’s that fucking slow, and you catch sight of someone coming towards the lift. Damn it, it’s rare that you have to share a lift with anyone. How irritating.

Irritating until you catch sight of who is trying to get into the lift. Then it just turns horrifying. Oh my god! You almost die on the spot. It’s that Lee Minho from the accounts department at your work. Lee Minho that looked like he was going to eat you alive the first time he saw you two months ago. Lee Minho who you thought hated you and you hated him, but you ended up flirting your your ass off with at last weeks boozy karaoke night in the office.

Lee Minho that you snuck off with into a stationary storeroom and almost had sex with. “Do you like this, kitten.” He’d whispered in your ear when his hand slipped up your dress and gripped your ass. You could still feel his hands up your skirt now and you clenched at the memory. “You look so fucking tempting flirting with me like that?” He had growled low. “I could take you right now if you’ll let me, little kitten.” He’d stated as he fingered your pussy.

Who knows what would’ve happened if someone hadn’t set of a fire alarm and he was insistent that you had better evacuate.

It’s not that you wouldn’t consider going on a date with him, or fucking him in a work closet. It’s just work are gossips and you learned the hard way about the repercussions of sleeping with men at work.

But why the fuck is Lee Minho getting in the lift in your apartment building?

“Hold the lift” Minho says as he hurries inside, and you push the thoughts of him in a closet out of your head.

“You don’t need to hurry, this thing is slow. You’d be better to climb the steps.” you offer trying to be calm.

He turns to look at you and his eyes grow wide. “y/n!” He beams “I wasn’t expecting to run into you. Wow! Do you live here?”

I nod “Yep! I live in this shit hole. Wait. Why are you here?”

“I’m… we’ll,” he scratches his head “I’ve just moved in on level 3.” He smirked. “We’ll probably run into each other a lot.” He added with that eat-you-alive look all over his face.

You take in that new piece of information as he looks to the panel the floor numbers and presses the 3rd floor, and you try to sneakily check him out. Like you always do when he happens to be near you. No wonder you dry humped him in the cupboard. He is slim, but it’s obvious he is also strong and toned, and his light sandy brown hair falls around his face in quite an annoyingly attractive way.

“So… you never did answer me the other day.” He glanced at you and raised an eyebrow.

“Huh?” You are taken out of your thoughts.

“About sharing a meal with me. You never answered.”

That’s right, during the fiasco amongst the paper and paperclips he’d asked you out for a meal.

It’s only now that the doors finally close and the lift mechanisms kick into gear ready to take you up to our respective floors.

“Yes, I guess that would be okay.” It slips out of your mouth before you could stop it.

Minho suddenly turns to you and takes a step closer, giving you his full attention. Fuck he is beautiful. And deadly. His proximity is sparking arousal throughout your body, much like when you were drunk and you feel yourself getting wet.

“I…I just don’t know when would be convenient.” you say it quickly to distract yourself from the tension between your legs. The sexual energy between you is thick. He feels it too, you're sure of it. You automatically look down to his crotch to find he is hard. You can see the bulge under his navy trousers. God you'd love to let his cock free. You look back up to meet his dark gaze.

He comes closer now, like he is cornering his prey, closing in on you. The lift has only just passed level 1. Your breath hitches and your exhale is more of a shudder than anything else. You take a step back but you are now pushed against the wall, the hand rail pushing against your lower back.

Without breaking eye contact with you, Minho slams the “Stop Lift” button and the elevator grinds to a halt.

“Is this convenient, kitten?” He says bluntly, leaning in so he is merely centimeters from your face. You couldn’t escape even if you wanted to. You don’t want to.

“W-what do you mean?” you whisper. Your handbag falls to the carpeted floor, spilling half the contents out all over the place.

He rests his left arm on the wall beside your head and brings his right hand up to your jaw. With his index finger he traces your jawline delicately. Slowly. Dangerously. Then proceeds to trace his finger down the front of your neck towards your cleavage.

“Ah, I suppose I wasn’t entirely clear, sweetheart.” His finger reaches the top edge of the very low neckline of your dress and he rests his fingers on the top bulge of your breast. Your chest is rising and falling rapidly as your heart rate and breathing increase. He knows what he is doing to you.

“When I said share a meal with me,” he licks his lower lip hungrily and his eyes follow his hand as it slips down to the belt tie of your dress and resting there.

“I meant that you’re the meal.” He looks back up to you but his hand hasn’t moved.

“Would that be okay. Kitten?”

Sweet fucking Jesus! You try to remember to breathe.

Would it be okay? Right here in the lift?

In that moment you lost all sense of reason. A lift is much riskier than a cupboard, but this man is turning you on so much your brain is mush. Your mind flashes back to how Minho spoke to you in the cupboard, and how close you’d been to letting him fuck you while all your colleagues were merely metres away from you.

“Yes… it’s convenient.” Your voice sounds raspy.

You want to share everything you can with this sexy specimen. Right now.

“Let’s see what we’ve got here then?” Minho tugs at your dress’s tie-belt and it loosens easily. The knit fabric falling open to expose your bare skin and underwear. You hold your breath waiting for what he might do next.

“You’ve worn this for me?” He smirks, taking in the site of your lingerie and half naked body. “I saw you walking around the office today. I didn’t know what kind of slutty lingerie you had on, though. Hmm.” He resumes tracing your skin, this time skirting the hem of the top of your black satin push-up bra and then cupping your breast in his hand. Minho exhales sharply and takes both of his hands and drags them down your stomach as he sinks to his knees.

You grab the handrail that you've been pressed up against, and steady yourself. Minho’s fingers are now tracing over your teeny tiny black g-string.

“Ah, you’ve packaged this up nicely for me too. You’re such a whore. You were probably hoping I’d get to see this, huh?” His left hand reaches around to grasp your bare right cheek and begins to stroke his finger against your lips, still through the underwear. The satin fabric makes it easy to glide his finger up and down. You are sopping wet now and your body is aching to be penetrated.

You think he is going to slide your underwear down your legs, but instead he loops his finger around the underside and tugs it to the side.

With the thong out of the way, he slips a finger through your bare lips. You groan at the sensation. You are slick and slippery and it takes Minho no effort to slip a finger inside of you. You grip the handrail and throw your head back. It’s been so long since you've had a man do this to you.

“So fucking ready.” He comments. “It looks like you’ve got dinner all ready for me. Just for me. You’re whole fucking outfit, these heels,” he gestures to your shoes, “the black lingerie. It’s like you knew I would be devouring you today.” He pumps his fingers in and out of you and squeezes your ass hard. You gasp with the sudden forcefulness.

“You don’t want to let your dinner get cold then.” you challenge him, you're dying for his face to be buried in your pussy.

Minho growls. Your bold remark spurs him on and the next thing you know his face is between your legs, his tongue presses up against your clit. He is not gentle, but this is not the time for that. You are hungry and ravenous too and you want it hard and dirty. Delicate just won’t cut it.

From the way Minho is ravishing you it appears he hasn’t eaten in a month! His grunts and enthusiasm makes you feel delicious.

You continue to hold the handrail and he forces one of your thighs over his shoulder, propping you up and allowing him more access. His tongue slips inside you now.

You realise that you haven’t actually touched him at all yet. You want to suck his cock. You've decided. Even though you haven’t reached an orgasm, you unhook your leg from Minho’s shoulder and guide him back to standing.

“Wait, why did you take my dinner away? Kitten?” he demands, diving in to nip at your neck, his hands all over you. You can smell your wetness on his breath. You wonder if he is going to kiss you.

You push him off you and give him a seductive look. You bite your lip as you cast your eyes down to his jeans. You definitely want to suck his cock.

You begin to undo the button on his trousers, and ever so slowly unzip his fly. You pull his pants and boxers down just enough so that you can release his cock. It’s your turn to slink down to your knees and you're now face to face with his enormous, hard, throbbing erection. You clasp a hand around his shaft and position yourself to take him in your mouth. You begin by licking the pre-cum off the tip and his cock twitches. Minho sucks his breath through his teeth.

“That’s it kitten.” He encourages. You sink your mouth down around his cock and take it as far back as you can. You can’t get all of him in your mouth. You haven’t mastered deep throating, so you have to rely on your tongue and hand technique.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” you must be doing okay then. “You’re such a dirty slut kneeling on this filthy floor with cock in your mouth.”

Oh you like this dirty talk. You increase your pace and allow yourself to become more aggressive, needy and messy. You let saliva run down your hand as you stroke him and you moan and hum like it’s the best dick you've ever tasted. It is the best dick you've ever tasted.

Minho grabs the back of your head, tangling his fingers through your hair and forces you to hold steady as he begins to fuck your face. He grunts and moans with each thrust. Your eyes become watery and he is careful not to go any deeper than what you can handle. You dig your nails of your other hand into his ass and he growls like some sort of wild animal. His erection is so hard and swollen in your mouth that you're sure he is going to come any moment. You are about to pump him harder when suddenly he pulls out of your mouth and lifts you back off the floor pushing you hard against the wall where you started. Hooking an arm under each of your thighs he lifts you to perch on the handrail, your dress hanging open and slipping off a shoulder.

He aggressively and passionately gropes your breasts with one hand, holding you in place with his other. Finally, he grabs your face and forcefully, greedily, smashes his mouth against yours. You open your mouth for his tongue and he obliges you with a deep, erotic kiss. You can taste yourself mingled with mint, his tongue dancing with yours.

This sends your vagina crazy. Fuck me already you think.

As if reading your thoughts, Minho pulls back enough to reach down to your g-string and literally rips one side, then the other, angry that it dared to be there.

Now you're truly exposed. You hold onto his shoulders and he comes in close between your legs, and with one hand pinning you in place, he grips his cock with his other, and directs the head to push against your entrance. You need it so bad. You are on the verge of begging him to fuck you now.

His jaw hangs slack and his tongue pokes out the side of his mouth as he watches the tip of his cock rub up and down your lips, which is fucking dripping now. He slides it up through your lips once, twice, and then thrusts himself all the way inside of you in one motion. You cry out as you feel like you’ve been split in two as his hips meet your body. Minho pauses for a moment to let you adjust to him being inside of you.

“You’re dying for cock aren’t you? Look how well you take me. So greedy for my dick.” He leans his forehead against yours. “Are you ready to have your brains fucked out?”

He starts to thrust in and out of you at a forceful pace.

“You know, Minho,” you pant, “I think you might be the slut. So desperate to fuck a woman in a filthy elevator”.

That was enough to tip Minho over the edge. With both arms hooked under each of your legs, he digs his fingers into your thighs and begins to slam into you at an exceptionally hard and fast pace. Your are so wet that his penis threatens to slip out, but Minho does well to thrust it back into you before that happens, until on one withdrawal it slips out entirely and you both groan in frustration and need.

He pushes his cock back in moaning in relief that it’s back inside. He pulls down the sleeves of your dress, biting and kissing your shoulder.

“You know, kitten,” he says hoarsely between breaths, “maybe we are just two needy sluts who enjoy fucking in the elevator.” He grins, and you laugh. But your laughing doesn’t last long because you are both so very close now.

You can feel the head of his cock pounding into your cervix. With every contact you scream louder and louder. He is so deep and you're living for it. His thrusts start to become a little staggered and wobbly. He is close, but so are you, and you are going to come God Damn it.

You hold tighter to his shoulders and you start to buck against him and he resumes holding your thighs and ass to support you.

“Come for me, come on my cock. That’s it kitten.” He concentrates on keeping steady so you can set the rhythm, and you come so hard your body shakes and shudders. You cry out as your climax overwhelms you.

“That’s it, good girl. You such a slut for my cock, huh?” he kisses your mouth.

“Mmm hmm.” you respond and you bite his tongue. “Now it’s your turn. Fuck me and fill me up with your cum.” you say filthily. This whole scenario is so dirty. Raw, dirty, sex. In a public place. With Minho.

You take his face in your hands “come in me.” you whisper breathlessly.

All it took was two more hard final thrusts and you could feel his semen release high up inside of you, painting your insides. Minho relaxes against your body. “Fuck that was so fucking… grrr. So good.” He growls and pulls out of you leaving you feeling empty.

You try to catch your breath and compose yourself as you redress, sans panties, and try to straighten your hair. Minho packs his cock away safely and bends down to gather all the things that had fallen out of your bag while you put a shoe back on. You didn’t even know it had fallen off!

“Here you go, kitten.” He passes you your handbag and presses the lift button so that it starts moving again. You hope no one had been waiting to use it.

“Thanks Minho.” you smile. He is so addicting.

The lift opens on level 3 and Minho steps out of the lift. Fuck, his ass is beautiful too.

Finally you reach your floor. You can feel Minho’s cum dribbling down your leg. You hurriedly hop out of the lift and rummage around your bag for your keys. While you’re searching, you realise your underwear isn’t in there! You keep rummaging. No way! You know they weren’t left on the elevator floor, you'd checked that nothing was left behind. Minho. The fucker. The kinky fucker. He’s fucking taken your underwear!

You should be angry, but you're more amused, and if you're honest very turned on.

That night, you lay in bed fantasising about your little escapade in the lift. You wonder what he is doing right now? Is he laying there with your panties wrapped around his cock while he jerks off and cums all over them? You reach into your bedside draw for your vibrator, and spend the next little while relishing in thought of Minho fucking your underwear.

——————————————————————

On the floor below, Minho takes a quick shower but his mind is still in the elevator with you. He hadn’t intended for it to go that far, he just wanted to eat you out, but you had other ideas.

He looks down at his penis “She really liked you doesn’t she?” he says to it endearingly.

Minho turns off the tap and dries off. He doesn’t dress. Living alone is convenient like that. You can do whatever you wanted. Don’t want to wear clothes? Don’t have to.

He strolls over to his bed and perches himself on the edge. He really can’t get you out of his head. He turns to his trousers that he had tossed on the bed earlier. Hmm that’s right, he thinks to himself as he reaches into the front pocket and pulls out the your torn panties. The panties he had torn off your delicious body. His cock twitches with the memory. He reaches in again and pulls out another item that he had taken when he was picking the things that had fallen out of your handbag. A lipstick.

Minho gets into bed and leans against the headboard, holding the items he stole. Is he a pervert? The black satin g-string was beyond repair, and he could see where you had been wet and leaking onto the fabric. He bites his lip. Then he takes the lipstick in his hand. He has an idea. His plan is to smear some of the lipstick around his cock to make it look like you had just sucked him off. Then he will jerk off.

But Minho is having trouble. How the hell do you get the lid off? He takes a closer look. A button. Okay let’s press that.

Buzzzzzz. It’s not a lipstick. It’s a mini bullet vibrator!

Arousal rushes to his cock. So you carry this around with you then? You are truly something!

He lays back into the mattress and places the vibrator against his balls. Mmmm! So good, especially because he knows that you have used this to pleasure yourself. Have all your juices smeared all over it. Have shaken and convulsed on it. Minho shudders and exhales a shaky breath. He takes the torn panties and places it over his face. He wants to, no needs to, smell you. Taste you. Savor you.

With his free hand he reaches for his lube that he keeps under his pillow and squirts a generous amount all over the head of his cock. He starts to stroke himself rhythmically, breathing in as much of your scent as he can.

He imagines your sitting on his face. Your heels next to his head, and that you’re the one pumping his cock. He begins to buck his hips as he fucks his own hand. Faster and harder. He licks the panties pretending he is sucking and licking your pussy. Imagining you are moaning and coming on his face.

He visualises you sinking your mouth onto his cock all the way to the hilt. He knew you couldn’t take him all in, but in his imagination you are deep throating him, and using your vibrator to bring him to orgasm. Fuck. Minho’s cum covers his hand and paints his stomach. That was quick, but intense.

He relaxes his muscles, exhausted and satisfied and basks in the feelings of pleasure as he calms his heart rate.

He decides he needs to have another shower.

@noellllslut @kangnina @weareapackofstrays @newhope8 @queen-in-the-shadows @queenmea604

[aggieharkness]

Have I earned it, mother? Chp. 5

Pairing: Avis Amberg x reader

Summary: working at the studio was a hard affair for you, but for Avis who had no idea how to run it it was even harder. Coming to find out she has been staying late almost every day you decide to whisk her away so she can take a break.

Warnings: smut (+18), affair, swearing, oral (Avis receiving), fingering (Avis receiving), slight praise kink, pet names, tit play, lingerie, outdoors sex.

Authors note: First of all, I'm very sorry about what's going on in Los Angeles right now. It's truly devastating to see so many families lost over the rubble of what used to be their lives; my heart goes out to all of them. This chapter is for them, so we will never forget its beauty even if the flames consume it all. Hope will sprout from in between the ashes. On another note, I'm sorry that this chapter has taken so long, but I've had to slow down a bit, I couldn't keep up with the way I've been dropping fanfics. I'm not sure if the last part is any good, it's like two o'clock in the morning and I need to sleep but I hope that you like it and as always, be gentle but tell me If I need to be more graphic, if I'm lacking on something. I am here for you, my dear people, I listen. I also accept ideas that you might have or things that you might want to see Avis and reader do. Also available on Ao3. Finally, let's thank Patti Lupone for giving us Avis Amberg.

Shoutout to @bravewithacapitalb for being my beta reader for part of the story.

Chp. 1 Chp. 2 Chp. 3 Chp.4 Chp.6

Word count: 20K (I have nothing to say. I have tried and failed.)

Kiss me in a field of lavender

The tension had been palpable in the air all day, people whispering and gossiping about the newest production that Avis had green-lighted, quiet conversations happening in the canteen away from Miss Kincaid’s or Mr Samuel’s ears. Meg was in everyone’s mouths, and by what they were saying it could be a total disaster for the studio if things carried on like this, but you knew that Avis would not have taken such a leap if she wasn’t perfectly sure, but you had not had the chance to talk about it with her yet. Since that night at the hotel, you two had decided to spend more time together, one way or another. She needed you, not only because you were a magician and always knew how to relax her and make her forget with your skilled fingers and mouth, but because you would sit with her and simply listen. She vented to you all her frustrations, from how she felt about Ace and their life together to how the studio was running her ragged, the productions that they were doing feeling like they were utter shit. They didn’t make her feel anything but disgust and boredom, like they were wastes of time and money, missing out on all those wonderful opportunities to make the people see how the world truly was, to give the spotlight to all those minorities that deserved to be heard. Meg was a breath of fresh air for everyone, you knew she knew, and she was willing to take this risk for the betterment of the country, if it helped somehow.

Sitting in your tiny little office, eyes reading some documents Miss Kincaid had handed you perhaps half an hour ago, you could feel the exhaustion of the day catching up. Your sight was becoming blurry, the words dancing on the paper as you tried to follow the paragraph, your shoulders tense and your back beginning to hurt, muscles stiff and throbbing under your skin. It was a rewarding job, most of the time, but the extra hours you put in almost every day weren’t really necessary, in your opinion, though the mountain of reports and files that never seemed to get any smaller begged to differ. The clock on the wall chimed eight, and after one more try you just couldn’t focus on the document anymore, so you decided to call it a day, putting the pages inside a brown folder and leaving it for tomorrow, on top of the rest of files, the chair scraping slightly over the tiles as you stood. You hadn’t realised just how dark it was getting until you walked past your window, the sky blending the last strokes of purples and pink into a deep navy blue sprinkled with millions of tiny bright specks that glinted high above your head. On one side light still lingered, bathing palm trees and houses with the last few yellowy beams of the day, on the other side a blanket of night enfolding the world.

In the few years you had lived here it still amazed you how different it all was and how it felt the same each time you looked up at the sky. In the distance the streetlamps were beginning to turn on, the stars above dulled by the world down on the ground. Hollywood at night was always so full of life but you had never been too interested in partaking, even if there were times when you did go out and simply had a drink or two enjoying the atmosphere. Tonight, though wasn’t one of those nights; there had been too many meetings, too many conversations and phone calls banging in your head loud as bombs. All you wanted was silence, even if it was for a moment, an instant maybe. Tearing your eyes from the window to grab your coat you stopped mid-step, turning your head to see that Avis’s car was still in the parking lot. Yesterday you had seen it still in its designated spot as you were leaving at seven, and the day before when you had left at half past eight, but you hadn’t been sure if she was staying late every day or if this was a Meg-related thing. Now you were sure it was a normal occurrence, wondering how late she stayed each day before going home; if she went home. It was quite obvious to you that she was giving this studio more than it deserved, in your most humble opinion, but you also knew just how rewarding all this must be for her. A woman who’s never had any power at all, who’s been a housewife for more than twenty years, though that didn’t mean she had to run herself ragged just to fulfil this dream. Once again you tore your eyes from the window, picked up your coat from its hanger, and walked out of your office, locking it once you had stepped into the corridor. You didn’t even notice as the wheels of your mind began to move, your feet carrying you down to the elevator as if you were on autopilot, used to doing this little trek every day several times, but instead of pushing the ground button, you found yourself pushing the one for the first floor.

It surprised you for an instant, but then you realised you had been picturing you and Avis laying over green grass with a few sandwiches and sweet treats along with a bottle of champagne or maybe wine. It was such a lovely idea, and you knew you could wait until the weekend to do it at her place, make it absolutely perfect down to the smallest detail, but something told you that it should not wait. The door chimed as they opened to reveal the floor where the canteen and bar were, hoping that Avis would just go with the flow and trust you as you stepped into the corridor and down to the still open doors. A few boys were having the first drinks of the evening, others a bit tipsy already in a corner discussing heatedly something about a trip to Colorado in what they thought were hushed tones, but you didn’t care much. Approaching the bar, you waited until the man in the white uniform was done drying and putting away a bunch of glasses, signalling with your head that you were ready to order.

-Hi, James. Busy day?

-Not more than usual. I gotta tell you though that if you want something warm better be quick, Nick’s about to turn off the stoves for the day.

-Oh, then could you maybe get me, like, a few chicken sandwiches with lettuce and mayo and two cut up steaks? I would appreciate it. Tell Nick that potatoes are not necessary if he doesn’t want to add them, a Caesar salad on the side would work just as well.

-All that for you?

-No. I’m planning something, but I’m not telling you about it.

-You can trust me not to say a word Y/N. Who’s the lucky guy?

-Sorry, but it’s top secret. Can you give me a bottle of red wine, and some cut up fruit as well?

-Sure, just let me tell Nicky here. It’ll be a little bit, so if you want a drink while you wait…?

-No, I need to do something first, I’ll just come down when I’m done and pick it all up. Watch him with the salt though, I’m not eating another sandwich dipped in the stuff.

-It was April Fool’s, that’s all I can say, hun.

-Still, keep an eye on him.

He was a good guy, you had known him since the first day you had started working here, absolutely terrified of everyone but needing the money. It seemed as if it had been only yesterday when you first set foot in Miss Kincaid’s office shaking like a leaf, a young little thing that only wanted to impress her boss and to not get fired within the week. When you had gone down to the canteen to get yourself lunch you had seen him serving Mr. Samuels and in shock you nearly spilled your glass of juice all over the bar, but James had grabbed it just as your elbow was hitting it, saving the day, and the man’s suit. After that he had been kind and had gently guided you all through the building and the main events in your schedule so you wouldn’t have so much trouble getting through the day. He told you that you shouldn’t be that nervous, that Miss Kincaid was a real nice lady and you wouldn’t have any issues with her, which had turned out to be more than true. You owed him for that, and maybe one day you would be able to return the favour but for the time being he was more than happy to simply be your friend and a server at the studio. It paid well he said. Tapping him on his upper arm you turned away and headed back to the corridor, hearing his loud voice telling Nick about a special order as if it were one of those fancy restaurants you had seen down Sunset Boulevard.

The building was quiet, not as much as it had been that night you had shared with Avis, but the ambiance was far more relaxed than it had been in the morning, hearing your footsteps as you entered the lift, hitting the button for the top floor. In the back of your mind there had been a headache brewing, but it seemed as if the silence was soothing it, slowly vanishing into a gentle ache that maybe would fade completely as the night went by. One could only hope, of course. The doors chimed, opening with a quiet scratching noise to reveal a completely empty floor; not even Miss Stinton was at her desk anymore, having probably left an hour or so ago. Walking over the carpet your shoes made no noise, muffled as you made your way to those big oak doors, noticing how they were slightly ajar, the gentle light from the chandelier escaping and bathing the corridor in warm orange hues. Peeking through the gap you could not help the smile that graced your lips, watching Avis as she rested against the back of her chair, a pair of glasses perched perfectly on her nose, eyes moving from left to right as she took in the words written on the pages, rolling them and huffing every few seconds as if what she had in her hands was utterly disappointing. Her slender fingers with perfect manicured red nails tapped over the wooden desk in a monotone rhythm, the sleeve of her asymmetrical pink and black blouse bunched around her elbow, the fabric clinging to her ample bosom, although in her current posture, you could not see the way they rose and fell under the gown.

It would be marvellous to slip into this room, close the door, and have your way with her, making her pant and moan as you dipped to your knees, spreading her beautifully while sitting in that exact same chair, ruining the leather with each orgasm you could pull from her depths. In your dreams her screams and sweet hushed whines and whimpers would make your body shiver and burn, almost as if you could still feel her tender kisses on your skin, lingering, tasting every inch of you, her fingertips ghosting over your hips, under your jaw, it did not matter. Her presence was ever-lasting, overwhelming when you would wake up in the dark of your room, sometimes alone, sometimes with her beside you, her expensive perfume mixing with her salty essence in a perfect mix that filled your lungs and warmed your chest. You knew that once her husband recovered, if he ever did, all those late-night conversations, all those times you had driven her to your place, undressed her and simply let her sleep in your arms, all of that would go back to the shadows, hidden in every corner only able to steal glances whenever she went to the studio, only sharing her time and bed whenever her husband went away, whenever he neglected her and drove her to tears and her broken down body showed up on your doorstep. It was all a matter of time, you knew, but until that moment arrived you would savour every second life would let you have with her.

Slipping quietly through the crack you tiptoed in her direction, your heels falling onto the carpet softly so as to not draw any attention, your eyes watching her body language that although tense was also calm, focused on whatever garbage she was reading. Her presence soothed the ache you had not realised had settled in your heart since parting with her a couple of days prior, the last kiss still lingering on your cherry lips. Coming to stand behind her chair your hands traced the outline on the top, feeling the stiches under your fingers as you gently moved them to the front, coming to rest on top of her dress. The fabric was soft, the heat of her body seeping through the pink material as you gently began to move them up and down her shoulders. Avis had been so lost in her own world, the words written on the page swimming before her eyes in boredom as she let her mind wander through senseless ideas and wonderful memories, that she had not noticed you coming in, the feeling of someone’s hands on her shoulders startling her in her chair, jumping slightly until she caught a whiff of a perfume well known to her, that sweet berry aroma enfolding her completely as the sudden fear and anger at the intrusion melted away in an instant, relaxing her body into your touch. Her hat laid over the desk next to her purse, forgotten there since this morning, allowing her gorgeous ginger curls to be free and on full display, neatly pinned on top of her head and perfectly placed and soft under your lips as you landed a kiss to the crown of it.

-Hello, darling.

-Hi. – it was melodious to hear her relaxed gentle tone, every muscle in your body reacting to her voice as if she was enchanting snakes, your head coming to rest over her right shoulder, lips pecking the soft skin of her neck as the hand that had been holding onto the script let it fall on her lap, nails scratching gently your scalp, the other one removing her glasses and letting the fall over the desk. She hummed at your tender ministrations.

-I thought you would have gone home already.

-I wish. – without noticing her head lulled to the side, granting you better access as your lips moved on to that sweet spot under her ear before tracing the shape of her jawline, your hands never ceasing their rubbing on her shoulders, the hard knots palpable through her dress. - Ellen gave me these scripts to read at lunch time and I was just trying to get through the second one before going home.

-Any good?

-No. They really are shit, Y/N. No feeling, no art, there’s nothing here. I’ve read instructions on how to build shelves that made me feel more than this!

-I know, I watched “All Hands on Deck”.

-I told Ace not to green-light it, but he was adamant. – she was beginning to heat up in frustration, but your skilled fingers rubbing those sore spots relaxed her almost instantly, her head falling back against the leather as you pecked her cheek, her eyes closing with a contented sigh. -He said it was good, that it would do well, and it’s one of the worst we’ve made. Where are the meaningful stories? – the way her hands moved of their own accord, emphasising her words even as her body melted against your lips, was a delightful sight. She felt everything so strongly. - Where are the tears, the suffering, the love, the betrayals, the passion… This doesn’t show life, it shows fairytales that are not even that. It’s just crap.

-They are not Meg.

-They are not Meg.  

-People are talking about it you know. A lot. Good things, bad things, in-betweens.

-I know it’s a risk but honestly Y/N, you should read it, you should see it. It’s a breath of fresh air and Camille is marvellous, probably one of the best we’ve ever had. – every fibre of her being was practically beaming with pride, her body turning the chair around so she could face you, forcing your hands to slip from her shoulders, but it didn’t matter if the prize was seeing those sparkles of pride in her eyes, the way they glowed as her smile grew bigger with each word. -  If Ace saw it, he would be red with rage, but I stand by this.

-I know you do. People here think that you are a scary tyrant, they expect you to be like him, but you are nothing like that. You know this is the right thing, that this film will matter, that some little girl in a tiny village will see someone like her on screen and think “I can do that. I can be anything”. You are changing lives as we speak, darling.

-Many people don’t agree with you. More than a hundred theatres in the South have already written saying that they won’t show it and have pulled some of the other films as a boycott to try and get us to cancel Meg.

-But you won’t. – you knew that Helena Rubinstein made Avis’s skincare perfectly suited to her, but it still amazed you how soft her cheeks were whenever you placed your palms over them, your thumbs rubbing circles on her jaw before your fingers travelled to the nape of her neck feeling a few flyways that had escaped her perfectly coifed hair.

-Of course. I’ve put too much work and faith in this to pull it now. I might tank the studio but at least we’ll go with a film that will mean something.

-You won’t tank it; Ellen has already mentioned that you’ve sued Lawson, Daniels and McHadden for breach of contract and that there’s theatres in the North that have already assured they will have security so they can show it. People might hate it, but there will be millions who won’t. I have a feeling that this will only be the beginning of a promising string of movies made not by Ace Studios, but by you, Avis Amberg.

-You believe in me more than I do.

-It’s easy. – the red of her lips had faded somewhat since lunch time, her plump mouth calling your name, her eyes looking at you with such expectancy that it almost made you weak in the knees. You were tempted to bend over and claim them but for some reason you could not stray away your eyes from hers, so deep and wide, looking up at you without any barriers, no walls to keep herself hidden away from you. Your thumb traced her bottom lip softly not even smudging her carmine as you did so, but the action didn’t carry a sexual innuendo, as enticing and beautiful as Avis was, it was a simple caring gesture. - I know you and I know that everything you do, you do contemplating risks and prizes, rewards that will be at the end of the line. Meg is the start; it will be the hardest of them all just because of that, but once this one’s through, and I’m sure it will be, the rest will just fall perfectly into place.

-Assuming Ace lets me carry on with it all when he wakes up.

-If he didn’t, he would be a fool. There’s talent inside you Avis, there always has been but men are too blind to see it simply because one does not fall into their category of pretty or obedient. Ace will know just how good you are when Meg becomes the biggest hit this studio has ever produced. He won’t be able to deny that this success was all due to you.

Your words dug deep into Avis’s heart, burrowing and settling deep, almost feeling as if you were marking her very soul. She had been in the shadows her whole life; yes, everyone knew who she was and any time she set foot in a room she filled it up with her power and personality but whenever she returned home the halls were cold, silent, no comfort kisses, no sweet words murmured in her ear. She was a forgotten woman in her own marriage, and she hated it more than anything. She hated how insignificant Ace had made her feel all this time and how bitter it had turned her, self-conscious of her abilities as if she didn’t have the right to think she was made for something else than just staying at home. Every day of her life had been a miserable dance of biting words and fake smiles surrounded by an atmosphere of empty luxury until you waltzed in, and everything since that night had turned from a bleak void into something worth fighting for. She was unsure how you did it, but you did it anyway; you made her feel special, unique, as if she actually mattered, that she was worth a million dollars every day she woke up, every second.

Locking eyes with you she could see the truth that glazed them, the adoration and love seeping from every pore of your body and mingling with her skin, and like a teenager, she felt herself blush, a gentle smile painting her lips. You believed in her with every fibre of your being like no one had believed before and that meant more than all the jewellery and priceless pieces of art she had been gifted in more than twenty years of marriage. She would throw them all away if it meant simply hearing you say those words for the rest of her life. The script had fallen at her feet some time ago, but she hadn’t noticed, too lost in you to actually care. Her hands held onto your wrists, keeping them in place on her cheeks as she turned her head to place a kiss on your left palm, the red lipstick leaving an imprint that you didn’t want to ever part with. With the way you always responded to her every touch it didn’t surprise her with how much ease she could pull you to her, your body falling on her lap as each leg rested on her sides, coming to straddle her, your face barely a few inches from hers. Your brain barely registered the way your fingers were now playing with the hair on the back of her head, pulling pins here and there to let one single curl fall to her shoulder, twirling it gently, almost playfully.

-It’s not only me you know, there’s Camille, Ellen, Dick, Jack… There’s an entire studio behind this one.

-But you gave it the go-ahead. You trusted this story with the right cast, you took a risk that no one else would have done. This script is something, and you knew from the very beginning even if you didn’t think they would let Camille do it. This beautiful Jew I’m looking at will make history.

Her heart pounded against her ribs, her chest so full of love that she feared she might explode, her eyes blurry with tears for an instant, but she didn’t give you the chance to watch them fall. Her kiss was hard, borderline bruising even, and yet you could not pull away, her lips soft as her hands cradled your face. Your mouth opened of its own accord to grant her the access her tongue was begging you for, tracing the shape of your teeth and giving you the opportunity to scrape her lower lip, a rumbling moan sliding from Avis’s throat at the feeling. If magic truly existed you would have cast a spell so your body would be able to mingle with hers down to the last atom, feeling her completely under your skin, in your bones, in your blood, your minds dancing around in each other as a thin red thread built and wrapped around you both. To live as one even for an instant, not knowing where Avis ended and you began, so utterly connected that neither of you would ever feel alone, abandoned on the curb of some dark road without direction, would be as grand as letting yourself sink to the depths of the ocean with her hand holding yours, forever united. As your lungs began to scream for air she had to pull away, chests rising and falling fast, the sound of your breaths the only noise in that big office. Avis’s eyes were slightly dilated, and you would have loved to simply take her, she probably had the same idea, you thought, but she needed to get out of that studio, to smell fresh air and leave work behind, at least for one night.

-What would I do without you?

-Break records and that ceiling glass that keeps us from reaching the top. I’m not some miracle that has turned you into a new woman Avis; all that power and skill has always been inside you. The only thing I’m doing is loving you, showing you what I see so that you can realise it and see it for yourself.

-But you are a miracle, Y/N. Mine. – rubbing right under your lower lip she wiped your smudged lipstick with her thumb, her eyes moving from your mouth back to your eyes. There was a single streak on her right cheek where her tear had blurred her rouge slightly, but it didn’t seem to bother her, not with the way her eyes were glinting under the light of the chandelier as she looked at you.

-You are going to make me blush, Avis.

-Not a bad sight in my opinion. Your face all red and pink just for me. I wonder if I could make you red everywhere else. – her voice was all husky and quiet, whispered against your lips almost, sending a shiver down your spine as her hands settled on your hips to pull you closer. Perhaps getting out of this office was going to be harder than anticipated.

-None of that now, you and I have plans for tonight. Don’t get me wrong, I would love for you to leave all me red and bruised, but I think that what I have in mind in going to be a welcome change.

-Oh? Any hints?

-You are far too smart; you’d find out within a minute. Just trust me to take care of you and make this wonderful, okay?

-I would go anywhere with you, you know it, but right now, anything to get me away from these horrid scripts is more than welcome.

-And what are you going to do about them?

-Tell Harold and the other guy tomorrow to fix it or they’ll be out on the street by Monday next week. Ace might have liked these movies simply because they were money makers, which they are not now, but I’m running this studio, and I won’t accept this crap, not anymore. If they want to write shit like this, they can do it in the streets.

-Always so sure of your choices. They’ll learn soon enough that you have taste, but no more of that talk now. If we hurry, we might get to see the last few seconds of the sunset.

Removing yourself from her lap was a herculean task, her hands holding you in place with a harder grip than you had foreseen but of course, there was that lust in her eyes, that possessive tinge around her chocolate irises that was practically screaming at you to forget all plans and just ravish her right there. She would do anything to keep you close and yet your fingers let go of her hair, pinning that loose soft curl back before letting your hands slid over her shoulders. Her fingers wouldn’t let go as you stood, the tips still lingering over the fabric of your white flowy dress but as you took one step back, she was forced to let them slip slowly off your hips, though you didn’t leave her any chance of dropping her hand to her sides or over the armrests. Tenderly your fingers intertwined and with a surprisingly gentle strength, you pulled her to you, her heels landing quietly over the carpet. There was a childish curiosity in her eyes that thrilled you to no end; the fact that you had the ability to always keep her guessing without making her feel as if she was in the dark about what was going on in your relationship was a refreshing change from all those late minute invitations to parties or boring dinners that she had to attend with Ace without the chance of saying no. Rounding the corner of the desk Avis had to let go of one of your hands to grab her hat and purse, but she made no effort to place the first on her head, over her perfect curls. The people left in the building wouldn’t pay much attention to her and if they did take notice, they wouldn’t comment on of the fact that she wasn’t wearing it.

Grabbing your coat from the back of the couch you guided Avis towards the door, flicking the lights off and letting her push the heavy wooden doors close behind you. In the darkness of the office, next to the desk, the script remained forgotten over the carpet. Walking beside you, Avis chatted about how her day had been, the doors to the lift opened and you quickly pushed the button for the first floor once again. Avis raised an eyebrow at that, but you remained quiet, simply smiling politely at her, though a sneaky grin did make its way to your lips when you turned your face back to the doors just as the lift stopped. Stepping out Avis had to let go of your hand. She was getting better with the public displays of affection; a quick peck on your cheek, fingers touching but never holding, a hand on your lower back or yours resting on her upper arm, still she could not bring herself to hold your hand fully. She worried what people might say, how they might react, not towards her, they didn’t have the balls to even look at her when she walked past them let alone tell her off, but you were far more approachable and people could be cruel, not to mention that one slip up and your picture could end up on the front page of a magazine before she could stop it. There was an emptiness in your chest that you didn’t appreciate at all as her hand dropped to her side but there wasn’t anything you could do about it. Avis saw that sadness in your posture, a veil of disappointment shading your eyes, but it wasn’t directed at her. In an attempt to lift your spirits somewhat she looked at the door of the canteen and up and down the corridor to make sure that no one was looking or heading this way before she grabbed your face and kissed you gently.

Your entire frame relaxed into her lips, her palms warm against your cheeks and her fingers falling in between soft locks of hair that had escaped your braid and were now framing your face. When she broke the kiss, leaving you slightly dumbfounded, she was quick to wipe your once again smudged carmine, your neurons short-circuiting for a moment before you were able to function again. It was okay if the pecks were given while Ellen or Dick were in the room, or when Gertie and Mr. Breaton, the old man that worked at the gates of Avis’s house, could enter the room at any given moment, but a kiss so public was not a usual thing she engaged in. Thinking about it you realised that the only time you had kissed in a semi-public space had been on New Year’s Eve while you were still in the car in front of the restaurant, but back then many of the people in the streets were drunk, so they wouldn’t remember anyway. Kissing you at the studio in such a public area was a risk you had not expected her to take but the happiness it filled you with overshadowed the sadness of not holding her hand. With hushed words, you asked her to wait there as you turned and entered the canteen watching joyfully as James placed containers of food on top of the bar as Nicky handed them to him through the tiny window connecting the room to the kitchen.

-Just in time, Y/N!

-I couldn’t have done it better if I had timed it, eh? Did you leave Nick alone with the salt?

-Not for one second. – he had a bright smile, one of the things his wife loved the most he had told you one day when you first started having lunch there, apart from his plumbing skills, and he flashed you one full with teeth as he pulled out a mesh bag from under the bar  and placed the bottle of red wine you had requested along with a bottle of champagne, winking at you. It was obvious you were going on a date but there really was no need for champagne, but you were not going to say no to the guilty pleasure you knew Avis had. From underneath the coffee machine, he pulled a wicker basket, placing it on top of the bar so he could start placing all the containers inside along with some cutlery and a couple of paper cups. – Nicky has added some roasted potatoes he had left from some dish or something, hope you don’t mind.

-No, not at all.

-Then that’s all, I think. The sandwiches, the steaks with some salad and potatoes, the drinks and the fruit.

-Yeah, that’s everything. Thanks a bunch, James. How much do I owe you? – you pulled your wallet from your coat pocket, but he shook his head and pushed your hand away from him.

-This one’s on us. We would have thrown the food away anyway. You and your secret love enjoy it; but don’t get too drunk.

-You know I never do. Are you sure you don’t even want a twenty?

-I’m sure. It was actually Nicky’s orders, and you know him, no taking back. Go and have fun.

-Thanks, James. See you tomorrow. Bye, Nick!

From the tiny window the face of a big man with beady blue eyes popped out, his deep rumbling voice wishing you a goodnight as you picked the basket and the drinks, waving back to them both. When you stepped into the hallway Avis wasn’t anywhere to be found, a sudden fear that she might have stood you up, leaving you looking like an idiot with all that food, or that someone could have come and given her some news that had required her to leave, assaulting your mind as you headed one way of the corridor looking for her, but when you reached the ending of the foyer she wasn’t there, so you turned the other way. The despair that had bloomed just a few seconds ago growing exponentially. Rounding the corner your eyes caught a glimpse of a pink dress, registering after half a second her frame leaning against the wall, next to a window smoking a cigarette. A relieved breath escaped you, drawing her attention. She wasn’t the sort of woman that would leave like that, you knew so, but you had had partners that had behaved like that or even worse, making you wait for hours in a restaurant until closing time, drink after drink filling the table as you had cried in silence, and maybe, you thought bitterly, some of those issues were still lingering inside you. It made you feel quite bad the way you had reacted, as if you didn’t trust her enough, as if you believed her capable of doing such a thing when you knew perfectly well that she would never hurt you like that. Releasing the smoke she had inhaled, Avis noticed the fear in your eyes, the way you clung to the basket and the mesh bag, her body suddenly completely alert and rushing to you.

-Hey, are you okay? Did something happen?

-It’s nothing. I’m fine now, let’s go.

-Y/N, talk to me. – she flipped the butt of the cigarette out the ajar window before placing both hands on your forearms, thumbs rubbing circles through the fabric of your coat and dress. - You know you can trust me.

-You are going to think it’s stupid, which you wouldn’t be wrong about, to be honest.

-I promise I won’t. Did someone say something? I will fire them immediately.

-No, no. I just didn’t see you when I came out of the canteen and… I thought you had left.

-Oh, doll, I wouldn’t leave you without telling you and if I had to, I would take you with me if I could.

-I know. It was just my mind playing tricks on me.

-It’s happened to you before, hasn’t it?

-A few times. I know that you would never do something like that but for some reason, I thought you had. Which makes me feel really bad now.

-Don’t feel like that. – the carpet all of a sudden seemed the most interesting part of this entire hallway, but Avis didn’t let you keep your glance downcast, she placed her fingers under your chin forcing you to look up at her. It struck her hard how vulnerable you looked, how much like a scared child you seemed to be with those sad eyes, and she internally cursed about how little she actually knew about you and your past, only a few snippets here and there. Your love life was not something you divulged or talked about while Avis’s conquests were well known to you, and she couldn’t help but feel as if there were pieces of you she still had to find. But she knew that the only thing she had to do was ask you for them and wait until you were ready to hand them out. - You are the best thing in my life, Y/N; I won’t ever leave you. I would never simply walk out on you when you go to such lengths to make me happy, going out of your way to grant me wishes I didn’t even know I had. Don’t ever doubt my love for you or how much you mean to me.

-I don’t, it was just a moment when my demons took the best of me. Relationships like this are still something relatively new to me, but we’ve been through too much for me to lose my trust in you. Still, I appreciate your words Avis, truly. I’m fine now, let’s not let this ruin our plans.

She needed to make sure you were a hundred percent okay, to know that this wasn’t deeper than you were letting on. With a gentle grip around your biceps she stopped you before you could turn away from her, bending to kiss you tenderly, pressing her forehead against yours for a few instants. Just as she didn’t know how you did it, how you made her feel this way, you weren’t sure how she managed to always make you feel safe, protected, and cared for, as if her hands could shield you from every single horrible thing in the world and keep you both inside a bubble where nothing bad could ever happen. Where she could love you forever and always. The heat her body expelled wrapped around you in the silent corridor, the sun casting waves of pink behind Avis in gentle halos that bathed her frame as you separated slightly, the pastel colour moving around her as if a painter was applying brushstrokes all around. Without a word she took the mesh bag from your right hand, intertwining her fingers with yours, and pulled you back down the corridor until you stood in front of the lift once again. No one was there to see you, no one would have cared if they had, and a little bubble of happiness enfolded your heart as she never let go of your hand, not even when you both stepped out onto the ground floor and headed for the front doors to set foot out into the world.

It was a small gesture to show you just how much she truly loved you, a promise that she wasn’t leaving you even if the universe fell apart. You couldn’t truly understand why she was so against holding your hand in public, after all she had been seen touching your back or your arm, even with her hand on your shoulder, your bodies never more than a foot apart from each other. You were even sure someone must have seen her kissing you on the cheek at this point, and yet she still drew the line at holding hands. But despite it all she was crossing the hall knowing that the few people left would see, her action a statement to you but mostly to herself that you were far more important than gossip or a few pictures. You were her friend, her partner, her therapist, her doctor, anything and everything, and if she could have had it her way you would have been her wife already. So, if people wanted to talk, let them talk, they were bound to find something to gossip about anyway, and she wasn’t going to push her happiness to the back of her mind and heart anymore, nor yours. Her grip was strong but never painful, the warm breeze that greeted you both as you stepped out of the building carrying a soft aroma of the first flowers that were beginning to bloom, perhaps a bit early, but nevertheless beautiful in between the deep green grass and moss. You walked to the parking lot and towards her car, but you quickly pulled her arm in the direction of yours, meeting a raised eyebrow.

-I know a place that you will love.

-You don’t want to have dinner at home, in the garden maybe?

-I would love to, but you need to see this spot, believe me. Come on, I won’t crash the car or anything.

There it was, that melodious loud laugh of hers that made your every limb tingle. It rang as clear as glass, echoing ever so slightly in the nearly empty parking lot, and you could not help but join her with quiet chuckles as you pulled her to your Packard. You met no resistance whatsoever and made quick work of the basket by placing it in the trunk along with the drinks that Avis kindly handed to you. Whatever you had planned was bound to be good taking in account the bottles she had taken notice of; an expensive bubbly that she adored with its fruity aftertaste and its smooth flavour, and a rich, slightly sweet red wine that she had every once in a while with her meals, never on its own, and that was a perfect companion for meats and desserts. Just before you closed the trunk Avis caught a whiff of the delicious aroma of roasted potatoes and gravy, her stomach rumbling quietly as she realised just how hungry she was, not having had a bite since lunch time, only coffee and a glass or two of whiskey to keep her running.

Being out of the office was already doing her some good, the tension in her shoulders slipping down her arms as she rounded the side of the car to get into the passenger’s seat but not before closing her eyes and simply taking in a deep breath of fresh air, the last few beams the sun cast down onto the ground warming her face. An instant later she was settled beside you. The car already smelled liked you, that precious berry perfume that you sprayed on each morning clinging to the leather in transparent rivulets that filled Avis’s lungs as you turned the engine on and began to back out of the spot before heading to the gates, the comfort of it making her relax in her seat, resting an arm on the back of it and using her hand as a perch for her head. With her cheek on her palm, she was able to take you in, never tiring of simply staring at you. It felt as if every time her eyes landed upon your perfect face, she found a new feature she hadn’t seen before, like tiny little freckles on your high cheekbones or a beauty mark on the tip of your nose that was almost invisible unless the person was extremely close to you.

But the ones she had engraved in her memory were the ones she loved to take in again and again. She adored the way your full lips curled inward just a bit when you smiled, the way your cheeks dimpled ever so slightly, or how you scrunched your nose when you were concentrating on something. Every little aspect of you was like a wave of mint in her veins, overwhelming and overpowering the rotten stench of her life before she met you. She knew that you were young, younger probably than most of the boys she had had at the gas station, but you were far more mature than any of them and there was something so utterly intricate and beautiful in the way you always seemed to find joy in everything and everyone. She had no desire to destroy all that wonderful happiness that you carried with you wherever you went. People like you are what was needed in this world, and she hoped you would never ever lose what made you so special, so unique and interesting to her. You weren’t some passing fancy though, no, she had had plenty of those in twenty years and it had always ended quickly and messy; with you, it was something true and real and she wished to never be parted from your side until her last day on this Earth.

The sun would set soon over the horizon; you had lost too much time at the studio you thought, but you weren’t about to be a driving hazard simply to get to that spot you knew, to risk both your lives for something that you could go up to the rooftop of the building and watch while holding each other close. If you got there in time, it would be wonderful but if you didn’t it was perfectly alright as well, as long as Avis was happy with what you had arranged in the five minutes it had taken you to leave your office and to go down to the canteen, you would be content. Swerving the car onto the freeway you rested comfortably against the back of your seat, watching from the corner of your eye as Avis turned the dials of the radio until she found a song she liked, returning her head to its previous position over her hand, her feet tapping to the rhythm while humming. There was a gentle tug on your coat, and you looked down for a moment to see her free hand playing with the hem of it absentmindedly, moving her eyes between you and the road ahead every couple of minutes. Those deep chocolate irises observing you, drinking your every movement, made you blush like a schoolgirl, cheeks and neck turning a pale pink even though her touches were nothing but harmless twirlings of the fabric in between her fingers, her skin never brushing yours as to not make you lose concentration on the road.

The spot you were driving to wasn’t really that far away, but the secondary roads were a nightmare to get through and Avis was about to find out as you took the exit that pointed out Runyon Canon. She sat a bit straighter when she saw the sign, dropping her hand to her side, and turned her head to look at you with a raised eyebrow. She hadn’t personally been there but the boys at the studio had mentioned that there were a few nice picnic spots with tables and everything, and as much as she liked the idea of having one with you she was also slightly disappointed that you had decided on some place where there would no privacy whatsoever. She liked being alone with you, no families with screaming children or passersby that would go climbing early next morning, she wanted it to be just the two of you, but she wasn’t going to voice her opinion. You had done things for her that no one else had, she could go through this for you. The first pothole got you both off guard as the light began to dim, your foot slipping from the brakes a little as Avis fell slightly on her side, having to use her hands to stabilise herself on your arm and shoulder. A curse echoed in the cabin of the car as she tried to sit back on her side, but the bumps were making her slide off the leather due to the fabric of her dress and without a second thought she pulled the black skirt from under her thighs hoping that her bare flesh against the seat would help her stay in place. Of course, you had not been expecting that and when you turned your head to see what on earth she was doing you were hit with the sight of the fabric bunched up around her hips, those shapely and delightful legs displayed in nude stockings before you, and oh God, those voluptuous breasts of hers were practically spilling out of her skewed blouse. Without thinking twice, you braked in the middle of nowhere, a cloud of dust enfolding the car, Avis’s body jerking forward before falling back against the seat.

-Y/N! A little warning next time. Is this where you wanted to take me? I’m not saying that it’s not pretty honey, but…

The words were drowned by your mouth on hers, the hand brake nearly forgotten in your hurry to get your hands on her body. You had been fighting hard against your better judgment, but it seemed that you had lost, though you could not say you were saddened by it, not when your hands were holding onto her hips under all that bunched up fabric, digging your fingers hard on her hot flesh, lips on lips pushing her back against the seat without realising it. Avis had not even thought of the fact that she would be half undressed in your presence and your reaction was perhaps a bit too forward for her at first, mainly shocked by it, but she wasn’t about to complain when she had been craving you all day and hadn’t had the chance to have a quicky in her office. When she parted her lips to grant you access, she was pleasantly surprised by the force with which you sucked on her tongue and bit down on her lower lip. The moan that resonated from her making her entire body vibrate, her hands digging hard into the leather to keep herself upright. Just as suddenly as you had assaulted her mouth you separated, eyes filled with such lust Avis thought she might drown in such passion, your body hovering over hers.

-If you want to actually get to the spot and have a nice date with me, I suggest you cover those legs or I’m going to bury myself between them and not let you out of this car until tomorrow morning.

-That’s not a bad prospect darling. That mouth of yours is quite talented.

-God Avis, I’m really trying here to not fuck your brains out, help me out, will you?

-Why would I? – her body pressed against yours, that delicious heat seeping though your thin dress as one of her hands lifted from the seat to rest over the one that was on her right hip, making it travel in between her legs until your fingers were barely an inch away from her centre. She was always warm, hot against your skin, but God, she was burning in between her legs, and your fingers could not help moving closer until they brushed the soaking lace. Avis’s head fell back at the contact, a groan filling up the cabin as you moved slowly up and down. She was absolutely drenched; this couldn’t have been just from now.

-You’ve been fantasizing about me have you not?

-Hmmm, yes. – a gasp escaped her when you pressed your thumb to her clit through her underwear, eyes rolling briefly to the back of her head. - Reversing roles, are we?

-You seemed to enjoy it the other day. – scrapping your teeth on her neck, Avis felt as if she might combust right there and then, your tongue licking the soft skin before your lips made their way to her ear. - How about we make a deal? You let me take you to that spot and we have a nice date, and I might be tempted to ravish you later. But only if those legs remain covered.

-Where are you taking me? – your hand stopped its motions over her centre, a quiet whine parting from Avis’s lips as she locked eyes with you, but your hand didn’t move from its spot on her inner thigh, ghosting over the flesh and drawing goosebumps and shivers that made her ache even more for you.

-I ask the questions today darling. Deal or not?

-Deal.

She could not lie, the prospect of you fucking her out in the wild with people barely a few feet away, hidden by trees or one of those big picnic tables, set her on fire and this whole act of her belonging to you, that possessiveness was just fucking amazing. Like the well-behaved lady she was she pushed as much of her dress as she could over her thighs, pressing them together without thinking to gain a bit of friction. Your body didn’t move away from her quiet yet though; the hand that had just been in between her legs when up to her collar, feather-like touches making the air in her lungs hitch, feeling how it moved down her sternum and over her breasts, bending your head until you could lick the swell of her left tit before you pushed yourself back into your seat leaving her absolutely flustered. She had taught you a trick or two on how to toy with people, and you weren’t about to waste this opportunity. Pushing the hand brake down and shifting into first gear the car began to move again, the potholes and bumps not helping Avis’s situation in the slightest, but you weren’t much better either, with the way her bosom jiggled and bounced you were actually finding it extremely hard to keep your end of the deal.

Finally, and you did send a prayer to the heavens for it, you saw the entrance to Runon Park and the designated area for picnics, but just before reaching it you swerved the car to the left and followed a slightly covered path for a mile or so, the trees tall and dense around you but allowing for the very last beams of light to still come through them, illuminating the way. Avis’s breath caught in her throat at the sight when you drove past the last tree, coming into a secluded clearing. All the lust and fire moved temporarily to the back of her mind as she took it all in from the way the canyon dropped into a deep abyss barely six feet from where you were parking to the vast green that seemed to go on into the horizon, endless and absolutely breathtaking. This… this was better than what she could have ever imagined. Without thinking, without command, her body stepped out of the car almost as if she was suddenly living in slow motion, the skirt falling around her legs properly, but she barely registered it with her hand on the warm steel of the hood, each step she took crunching twigs under her heels. How had she lived in Hollywood for over twenty years, and had never been here? The warm breeze caressed her face, its waves carrying the fresh aromas of pines and wood that melted against her skin as the floral accents from the very first violets and snowdrops danced around her in a harmony of fragrances that filled every cell in her body.  

Under her feet deep emerald green grass grew up until the very edge of the cliff and in a need to see she stepped forward until she was barely a foot from it, the abyss deep and terrifying but so stunning that she could not feel fear. Looking to the West a waterfall burst from the rocks, its waters strong and transparent as they poured and fell down to the valley more than two hundred feet beneath her, where a river of powerful currents and acute meanders adorned the scenery, the sounds the wind carried kissing Avis’s ears in sweet gurgles and murmurs of water that filled her heart with such emotion that she could not even comprehend what she was seeing. Every tree, every rock and bush were placed almost strategically as if God had taken his time with this spot only for you both to see. She could not understand how the plateaus where she stood along with the one across the valley were so full of green, trees as tall as buildings gracing the world with a rainbow of greens and browns as they grew, while beneath them rocks as red as fire stood, the careful lines and topography of curves, columns and arches contrasting with the weeping willows and fragile riverbend plants that grew in between the rivulets of bluish crystal waters at the bottom of the valley. Looking down to the East the world was a song of fire, the canyon going on for miles with both gentle curves and acute angles that would have been hidden under seas of green had the river not carved its path deep within them.

Avis couldn’t steer her eyes from it all, observing the way the leaves swayed in the breeze, white butterflies dancing tenderly between the petals of white daffodils and red poppies, the splatters of colour spread throughout the grass in mosaics. There was a ruffle coming from some bushes across the valley, and Avis watched intently as a deer walked out into the evening sun, standing tall and proud with its growing antlers close to the edge as it almost held her gaze, its magnificence making her wonder if she had ever seen one in the flesh. Crossing the streaks of blue that still remained in the skies above, eagles cut through the winds, wings spread wide as their loud calls accompanied the flow of the waterfall. Her eyes had never seen such beauty; the world had always seemed like such a fast paced universe to live in that she had never taken the time to simply stop and step aside from the current of people, but standing here, where nature seemed to carry on without noticing humans even existed, was as if she was seeing her home for the first time, and she could only think about how beautiful it all was. There were eagles nowhere else but on this planet, bees and dragonflies could only buzz and sway over rivers and fields of daisies in this planet the same way that roses and pine trees could only grow and thrive here and she had never realised it until now, when the world was quiet and society laid miles away.

A pair of hands came to lay on her waist, startling her ever so slightly before they wrapped themselves around her as your head rested over her shoulder, and in murmured words you told her to look over to the waterfall. Her head returned to the West slowly, unsure of where her eyes should be, but upon landing them on the spot, both of you watched enthralled as the sun began its last descent. The sky was dressed in thin veils of pink and purple silk before the last golden glow of the day bathed the earth, it’s warmth melting against Avis’s face, only disturbed by the elusive touch of green beams that only a few handful of people had ever managed to catch, its perfect light turning the red sandstones and crystal waters into a world of molten gold and emeralds before it all turned dark and the sky above began to blend its indigo blue into a deep navy one. High up in the sky was now a full moon, lighting the world with white rays as to not leave it in a deep terrifying darkness, all the animals vanishing from the land to return home while others woke up to start their day. The world had turned silver.  

-Was it worth the wait? – your voice whispered in her ear as your hot breath sent a shiver down her spine in a reflex response to your touch.

-Words cannot describe it Y/N. This place… how did you find it?

-When you are lonely and homesick you try to find places that bring you comfort, that make you feel as if you’ve never left. I found this one in one of those moments. I had been driving my old car around, getting familiar with the roads, and I took a wrong turn that turned out to be a right one.

-It’s beautiful.

-It was beautiful, now that you are here, it’s perfect.

Romance had seemed such a soppy affair, with all the compliments and shows of affection and love, but by George, was Avis absolutely adoring it all, red as a beet at your words and so very thankful that it was night, and you could not fully see it. Her hands were resting over yours, rubbing and gently moving her fingers over your soft skin as you both remained standing there observing it all, taking in the scenery for a moment or two. The waterfall seemed to have slowed down its incessant pour, the water falling gently from rock to rock, the once bright green moss now reflecting the moonlight as if they were diamonds framing the silvery currents, the grass vast seas of white as the breeze moved them from side to side. She could stay here forever, build a small wooden cottage and live with you, hidden from the world, not having to worry about whether people would approve of you, the doctors unable to call her and remind her that she had a husband in a comatose state, no Meg to think about, no studio to run, just you, her and nature. A most wonderful dream indeed. With a deep breath, the pine fragrance filling her lungs, she felt you turn her around, an astonished gasp escaping her parted lips when she saw a checkered blanket over the ground along with the basket and the mesh bag, a turned-off lantern resting on the side. You were quick, she thought, or maybe she had been truly lost in her surroundings, either way, she was pleasantly surprised by it all and let you guide her to the makeshift dinning room.

Your heels came off, resting on the side, away from the blanket, and in a similar manner Avis removed hers, letting her body fall as gently as she could onto the ground, tucking her legs under her while your flowy dress covered your crossed ones. It wasn’t supper by candlelight, but at least the lantern gave enough illumination when you turned it on, with the lighter that you had picked up from Avis’s purse, that you wouldn’t have to bring the fork an inch from your face to see what on earth you were biting on, the mesh bag falling onto the grass as Avis pulled the bottles and left the champagne over the blanket to work on opening the wine. You both worked in silence, containers resting in between you before you began to remove the lids, the wonderful smell of roasted potatoes covered in gravy and steak surrounding you both while the coolness of the sandwiches remained on the side, a big bowl of Caesar salad in the middle so you could share. Putting the fruit back in the basket so they wouldn’t be in the way. The cork of the wine came out with a pop, Avis pouring the deep cherry liquid into one of the paper cups and passing it to you before serving herself, raising it in the air.

-Cheers.

-Cheers. – it was utterly delicious. You were not much of a wine person if you were being honest, you were perhaps more modern or glamorous, always ordering cocktails, but the fruity aftertaste it left on your tongue was magnificent, simply delicious and lifting your eyes from the cup you could see Avis was enjoying it just as much.

-So, what’s on the menu for dinner tonight?

-We have Nick’s special, of course, steak with potatoes and salad, and on the side some chicken sandwiches because I was not very sure what you fancied. Maybe I went a little bit overboard, but my grandma used to say that it was best to have leftovers than to leave hungry.

-Your grandma was a very wise lady. Should I go first and try the salad?

-Whatever you desire, etiquette is not compulsory here, darling. – picking up her fork she stabbed a piece of chicken practically drenched in the dressing along with some lettuce and using her left hand as a barrier so the food wouldn’t satin her dress should it fall, she popped it all in her mouth. God, it was delicious, the lettuce crunchy and fresh, a crouton she hadn’t seen shattering in her mouth in a perfect balance of salty as the parmesan melted on her tongue along with the juicy chicken, her starving stomach taking it all as if it was a heavenly meal. She probably hadn’t noticed but she had moaned loud and clear, eyes briefly closing as she let the simple flavours assault her, but you had, and you could not say whether you were happy she liked so much or far too bewitched by her that even the slightest noise was music to your ears, as if you were listening to the London Philharmonic, a chuckle escaping your lips as you took some of the salad yourself.

-God, I can’t remember the last time I had something like this.

-If you are reacting like that to just the salad, I’m worried the potatoes and gravy will kill you.

-I’m not. You know how to resuscitate me with that tongue of yours. – she had said it with such a nonchalant tone before bringing another bite of the salad to her mouth that you chocked on your wine, a splatter or two landing on your cheeks. One point to Avis she thought, watching your flushed face as you wiped the specks of deep red liquid from your skin, a naughty smirk painting her lips that’s she hid quite well behind her own cup of wine. – Are you alright? Did something go down the wrong pipe?

-Don’t act as if you didn’t just almost kill me, but yes, I’m fine.

-Me? I haven’t touched you, honey. I think you know very well when and how I could send you to the heavens… or hell, whatever you prefer.

-Are trying to seduce me?

-Is it working?

That raised eyebrow was such a turn on for some reason, but Avis didn’t move from her spot, simply bent over to stick her fork on some of the steak, doing the same motion with her left hand as before but your eyes were clearly staring at another part of her body that wasn’t her face. You would have to get professional help to understand why you were so goddamn in love with her breasts; what sort of magic did they possess to make you shiver and burn at just the simple sight of them? It was playful banter, a game of cat and mouse that you knew she loved, but this time you didn’t answer, simply sat back and watched her chew on the meat, the sound of her humming in approval at the flavour reaching your ears. You could have prepared a better picnic, you could have brought candles and dried rose petals and made it all far more romantic but there was that spark in Avis’s eyes that told you it was perfect. With her hand left hand now resting over the grass she let her fingers rub and gently move in between the twigs and tiny little flowers, the moonlight reflecting on top of your head as the orange light from the lantern cast shadows over your face. She wondered for a moment who did you look like most; was it that grandmother you had mentioned or perhaps your father? Who did you inherit that nose of yours from or those blond locks that swayed in the warm breeze around the nape of your neck? A question assaulted her suddenly, out of curiosity more than anything else.

-When was the last time you talked with your mother?

-Oh. – it caught you off guard the drastic change of topic, but you couldn’t say that you were mad. It was natural for her to want to know more about you, after all, you had kept most of your private life secured away, afraid that she might find you too much of a foreigner or maybe simply lose interest since you were nothing like her acquaintances. But you wouldn’t have brought her here if you were not ready to share, you thought, knowing how much this whole place meant. – Well, I wrote to her last week, so I think that the response should arrive in maybe a couple of weeks.

-You don’t phone her?

-I can’t afford international calls. I do try though, on Christmas or birthdays, but sometimes I can’t. So, letters are the best method.

-Where are you from? You’ve talked about your home, but you’ve never told me. – grabbing a handkerchief Avis picked half of a chicken sandwich, eyes never leaving your face as your eyes glazed with memories untold, deep secrets you cherished in your heart, a tender smile growing on your lips.

-P/B. We are from a tiny village in the middle of nowhere, a couple of hours from the capital actually. I can’t say that we live on a farm but some of my neighbours do. It’s not as exciting as coming from New York, I’m afraid.

-No, but I’m sure is more beautiful. This place reminds you of home you said, and I can’t help but wonder just how much.

-Well, vast fields surround the village, and they seem endless as they go on and on into the horizon. – with your fork you stabbed one of the potatoes, biting down on it as steam curled in front of you, the thin layer of gravy mixing beautifully with the rosemary and the fat that coated the vegetable, swallowing before continuing. - In winter they are all brown and yellow as the farmers prepare the soil for the next sowing, although in some of the areas there are already tiny little sprouts growing before December is over. They might not look pretty at first, but if you go out early in the morning, when the sun is dawning, the olive trees rest among a thin fog that leaves very fragile layers of ice over the branches, and morning dew drops form over the grass that’s beginning to break from the ground. It usually doesn’t snow, but the very few times it has it’s a perfect scenery. White just never ceases to appear in front of your eyes and the air is so cold and crisp but so fresh and the smell of the chimneys just make it all so wholesome, so like home. - You were lost in a world of your own, the memories forming before your eyes as if you were standing right there, on the edge of the village seeing it all, hearing the loud voices of your neighbours and waving to the older married couples that were working on their lands, the cold almost numbing your fingertips. Avis had forgotten about the food and was simply resting her hands on the ground with her head lulled to one side observing the way your eyes were zoned out, your fingers moving gently as if you could show her where you were pointing at.

-In springtime though everything is gorgeous. There’s green everywhere, the trees that had laid naked amongst all that cold now blooming under the warm sun, flowers overtaking the grass as the cereals that had been planted grow tall, sometimes taller than me. There are red and white poppies, and so many four-o’clocks simply sprouting from the sandy grounds. My mother loves them and grows them in the garden in a variety of colours. Then of course there are the pines and olive trees that no matter where you look there’s mosaics of, and we use them for shade when we’ve been working out on the fields or in the garden, to cool down and have a bite. There are so many colours and so many insects. Our house gets filled with butterflies and bees that settle on my mother’s roses to rest and that drink from the tiny little yellow blossoms that will later become tomatoes. And the air… it’s so rich with fruits and vegetables and those wonderful floral fragrances that one could stay out all day and never get tired of it.

-It’s sounds like paradise.

-It’s far from it, but its home. We don’t have waterfalls or big deep valleys carved into the stone, but we have fields of lavender and hawks that fly high above, and slow-moving rivers where ducks and swans sometimes bathe. We can see roe deer jumping from between the trees and rabbits that rush around without a care in the word, building their burrows in those areas where the ground has not been planted so it can rest. Coming here makes me realise that there’s always a piece of home if you look for it, no matter how many miles separate you. It’s in your blood, in everything that you are and that you do. One might not realise it but it’s always there and it’s up to us to reject it and hide it or to embrace it and adapt it as we grow older, to never forget what makes us who we are. I did not grow up in big cities or high up on mountains, but I have lived surrounded by nature and dipping my feet into the warm sea, listening to the waves crashing against the rocks, filling my lungs with the salty breeze. I have walked among orange blossoms and lemon trees; I have been in nameless places in the middle of nowhere, but it was in those moments that I felt at peace.

-So why did you come here?

-Because one can’t stay stuck in the same place forever. I had a chance to make something for myself, to build a life that wasn’t the one my mother or my grandmother lived and as painful as it was, I took it. You left Northport to come here.

-True, but what I built was ruins. Nothing ever lasted before it was knocked down.

-I wouldn’t say that. People know you for you, not for Ace or Ellen or Dick. You have made a name for yourself even if the circumstances were not ideal or pleasant, but when they hear your name, they see you, not you with your husband or with a friend, just you. You might be standing over rubble, but you are not letting it keep you on the ground, you are picking up the pieces and making yourself a staircase to the top. You are running a studio and are going to release the best film in history, I think you have done pretty fantastic from that girl that you were back in Northport.

-How do you always see all the good, positive side of things?

-I usually don’t, but I have seen what sadness and hurt have done to you and I want to make it right. You deserve joy and love, not harsh words or bitter situations. You are doing what no one else has had the balls to do and I know that that girl who moved here years ago would be beaming with pride. – that girl that had been lost and miserable, Avis thought, would she truly be proud? She had had dreams that were shattered, a whole future shaped out before her that vanished into nothing when the talkies came, and then Ace and Claire happened and life just turned into a sea of habits and nasty looks, and that innocent girl became a not so innocent woman, but still filled with sadness and disappointment. And yet she felt as if you were right. That young thing from Northport would have never dreamt of running a studio or making a controversial film but foremost she would have never imagined she would find someone like you, the right person at the right time, just a bit later in life than what she had expected.

-I wish I could see the world though your eyes, I bet they are the most magnificent lenses anyone could wish for. Nothing is ever truly bad or horrid to you, there’s always hope and light at the end of the tunnel. With all those compliments you are giving me you are going to end up spoiling me if you are not careful. I might get used to this treatment. But how about you tell me what is it you want to build? What do you expect from life?

-I don’t know and that’s the beauty of it. My future is a blank canvas. I can be anything I desire, at least that’s what my mother says, from a secretary, as I am right now, to a nurse or a painter. I chose the paths I tread and admit my errors when I take wrong turns because that’s how one builds something worth fighting for. But if there’s one thing I know, it’s that you are the only person that I have painted on that canvas, the only thing that I’m sure I want as a constant for the rest of my existence. I don’t know where I might be in five or ten years, hell, I don’t even know If I will still be in contract at the studio in six months, but I do know that wherever I am, I will be beside you. – Had your eyes ever been this deep? Had they ever shone with such beauty and determination? Avis wasn’t sure, but under the warm light of the lantern they were open doors to your heart, to every feeling and desire that grew and wrapped around your chest, and she was suddenly pulled into them, falling and drowning in their abyss. Her hands moved the food gently to the side, the containers covered halfway to avoid spills, allowing her body to crawl on all four in your direction, knees digging hard onto the ground underneath the blanket leaving the imprint of tiny pebbles over the skin until she stopped right in front of you, the soft skin of her palms coming to rest on your cheeks as she drew your body to hers.

-And I want you with me. Forever.

There was no room for words anymore, your heart skipping a beat before it began to race as the feather light touches of her lips on yours, hovering but never actually pressing them, drove your hands to hold onto her hips, digging hard over the fabric of her dress as your bodyweight fell over hers. Gravity granted you a helping hand this time and as she pulled you even closer her mouth landed over yours in a tender kiss. Somewhere in the distance a loud coo was heard, echoing in the air around you both but Avis never parted herself from you, absolutely addicted to the way your carmine mixed with the rich tones of the wine and the saltiness of the gravy, leaving an aftertaste on the tip of her tongue that was simply you, your sweet essence. Breaking the profound navy blanket that covered the skies, a magnificent horned owl flew over the crystal waters at the edge of the cliff, flapping its enormous wings hundreds of feet above the ground, casting deep black shadows over the grass before perching itself high on a tree, observing in the night, protecting. Neither of you was bothered by its presence, you were all animals at the end of the day, creatures that had evolved up to this point in the history of the Earth forgetting that before cities and societies existed love was shown among the trees, on the edge of riverbends under the scorching sun or the coolness of the night. One of your hands moved to Avis’s back, the other one resting on the grass as your bodyweight pushed her gently on top of the blanket, the top of her head pocking from the corner of it and in contact with the now deep green that surrounded her.  

The new position forced your lips to part, Avis’s chest raising and falling in hurried breaths, and as you moved your legs to straddle her, your foot accidentally kicked the lantern. The flame dying as your hands travelled to her sweet face, left you both bathed in only moonlight, the warm breeze caressing your bodies along with the sound of the flowing waters, crickets playing their quiet songs in the distance. Inching your fingers closer to the nape of her neck, feeling her soft ginger curls, they moved nearly of their own accord to massage her scalp, touching the cold metal pins she was wearing as you scratched your nails over her sensitive skin. It was delicious the way she hummed under you, her hands running up your back to your shoulders to keep you as close as possible to her, shivering as the heat of your body seeped through her stifling outfit. Your lips were torture on her neck, kissing the shape of it from her jawline to the hollow between her collarbones, licking and tasting her sweet skin as your fingers worked tenderly on removing as many hairpins as they could find, nibbling and scraping with your teeth. She needed you to mark her, to take her and make her yours. The way your light touches lingered on her flesh, delightful and thrilling as they drew goosebumps and gentle tingles on her limbs, made her brain slowly lose its train of thought and simply give into every sensation. Releasing the last pin, your fingers threaded deliciously in between her locks, pulling on her hair slightly harder than you had planned though she didn’t seem to mind. The motion had forced her head to lull back, a gasp escaping Avis’s ajar lips as the grip on your shoulder became stronger, her nails threatening to rip your dress.

You had never desired anything more in your life than to keep her in your arms for all eternity. That sweet spot under her ear was assaulted by your lips, the tip of your tongue tracing the outline of her earlobe, your hot breath tickling her skin and causing a mix between a giggle and a groan to slide from her mouth. Painstakingly slowly you moved along her jaw, lips delivering feather-like touches before you moved down to her neck again, sucking hard on her pulse point, delighted in the rumbling moan that she made as her throat vibrated beneath your lips. It was utterly gratifying to see how responsive she was to your touch, to the way your hands moved from her hair to her shoulders, fingering the neckline of her blouse, your fingertips barely brushing her skin and yet her pupils were so dilated that it was a miracle if you could actually get a glimpse of that gorgeous brown of hers. Dropping her hands to your hips her gaze was intense, watching your every move as you sat back over her thighs and began to trace the outline of her breasts and stomach through the fabric until they reached the hem, an obstacle that you had to remove, you thought. Avis felt you pushing the item gently off her abdomen, agreeing silently with you that it needed to come off. She desired to feel your skin on her skin, to have you as close as it was humanly possible, and so she pushed her upper body off the ground, resting its weight on her elbows as she guided your hands to push the garment off her midriff and arms until the blouse simply flew over the grass a foot or so away.  

God, she was wearing a nearly see-through corselette. There was a deep groan vibrating in your throat at the sight, the translucent satin cupping her breasts so beautifully, so enticingly that the heat that was coursing through your veins nearly turned into fire, Avis’s rosy nipples stiff and fighting against the material. The boning of the garment hugged the curve of her waist as if it was made perfectly suited to her body shape, and perhaps it was, the olive kissed skin coming through the material that built the bodice, flowers and fallen petals embroidered in deep blues and greens, encasing her form. It was beautiful, you could not help but stare at it for a moment wondering how one came across such things, but your attention returned quickly to Avis, the heat of her body seeping to the palms of your hands from where they rested under her bust. Her heart was hammering against her ribs, bosom rising and falling in rapid breaths in anticipation, unknowing of your next move as your eyes bore into her skin, hot and cold shivers running down her arms and back. Your thumbs rubbed the underside of each breast causing Avis’s breaths to mix with her loud pants as your hands journeyed higher, cupping her tits graciously, the plump flesh overflowing from your palms as you began to knead them, dropping your lips to her now exposed collarbone, teeth scraping the flesh and leaving angry red marks that your tongue quickly soothed.

How could you drive her to such insanity every single time? It made no sense how well you already knew what made her mind go blank, mad with desire and lust, every spot in her body that could draw out moans and gasps, how much pressure to use, how much strength and roughness she required or wanted. Bruises on her body were a marvellous sight for her to wake up to, your lips sucking on the skin of her chest and the top of her ample bosom until the purple began to form, your tongue running over them to calm her flesh, but she would never ask you to stop, finding that gentle pain simply delicious, addicting as your head moved to the valley between her breasts, letting your tongue run over the translucent fabric until it reached her left nipple. The feeling of it rolling in your mouth alongside the friction the material provided was making Avis’s core burn hotter and higher, her left hand holding onto your hair while the other grabbed onto the blanket, her knuckles almost white. The stiff peak twirled around your tongue with ease, your lips sucking hard as your teeth scrapped the sensitive bud, a quiet scream making its way out of her mouth before she could stop it. She was always so vocal, so needy and ready for you. As your head was busy with her left breast your hand had been kneading her right one, but its mission had changed after noticing the way Avis moved under your weight, travelling down her side to the waistband of her skirt in search for the zipper, that was quite conveniently resting on her right hip.

Much to your dismay, and hers, you had to let go of Avis’s nipple, a gentle pop resonating from your mouth as you pushed your body onto the blanket to get rid of the black pencil skirt that prevented her from properly spreading her legs. The garment’s zip slid like butter, both of your hands pulling it down her legs as she lifted her hips off the ground to help you, leaving her matching knickers on display for your eyes to feast on. You were sure you had just had a mini heart attack at the sight of the translucent fabric, her folds practically exposed before you. There was a hunger inside you, a monstrous appetite simply for her, for every single inch of her that you could not satiate, both your hands crawling upwards on each side of her body, over the blanket, your legs moving in between hers to spread her open. Part of Avis was resting over the grass while the other was on top of the checkered fabric, but if the feeling of the cool plants on her skin bothered her she did not mention it, perhaps too lost in what you were doing to her as you hovered over her, lips so close to hers that she could taste the wine on your breath. Her eyes locked with yours, feeling the way her chest pressed against yours with each hurried breath she took, the moonlight reflecting and making her deep brown orbs glow even if deep inside them there was a light of their own, a veil of love and faith that made your heart swell with pride. You and only you had managed to do what no one else had; earn her trust.

Your lips landed softly over hers, your tongue dancing over her now non-existent carmine as you asked her silently for permission to explore her mouth once again, as if you didn’t have it memorised already, but she granted it, nevertheless.  It was a battle for what little control you were willing to give to Avis this time, losing to her as she sucked on your lower lip, her hands holding you in place with her overheated palms on your cheeks. The air was filled with whimpers and whines, answers to your every little touch that only increased in pitch as you broke the kiss, one single drop of blood falling onto Avis’s own lips from where she had bit you down a bit harder, your mouth leaving a thin trail of the red warm liquid as you moved down her throat, vanishing as you pecked her chest. You had barely registered the way your blood was staining her skin, too focused on burying your tongue in the valley of her breasts, but the corselette was in the way and you could hardly reach that delicious skin that was calling out to you in whimpered whispers. Your hands were shaking slightly as you lifted your body from hers to work on the first few hooks of the garment, her ample tits inching closer to freedom as you unclasped each fastening, bouncing and jiggling under your working hands until they finally escape and stared at you in all their glory. You just couldn’t get enough of that creamy flesh and pink hard nipples. The mix between a gasp and moan that Avis produced was utterly sinful as you licked the skin and sucked around her right peak, small red marks painting her flesh before you devoured her, nibbling and pulling on her stiff nipple as your hand raked your nails over her left breast, to the point that only a score of screams could be heard from her.

-Please, Y/N.

To hear her pleading was such a thrilling sound, so unlike the Avis that everyone saw at the studio. And who were you to not listen when she was so sweet under your tongue, so responsive to the way your hands held onto her hips to keep her from thrashing around as you sucked and twirled her nipple until her pleas were finally needy enough, imploring even. You had made a deal after all. Under different circumstance you would have undressed her completely, drank her in until you were absolutely wasted in her essence, but this clearing was still a public area, anyone could come here; you doubted they would, but it could still happen, and you were not willing to let strangers see Avis in such a compromising position. Still, you released her breast after one final nibble that had her eyes rolling to the back of her head momentarily and began to kiss the fabric of her bodice all the way to her pubic bone, the material showing the wet spots you had left behind as you licked and pecked. If you took the lantern and gave it to Avis, she was sure she could light it with her bare hands from the way her skin and blood burnt high, scorching every cell of her being. You were inching closer and closer to where she needed you the most, your lips dancing from her left hip to her right, brushing your kisses so close to her clit that she thought she would go insane if you didn’t touch her, eat her alive. In a quick motion one of her hands held onto your hair, pulling roughly as if she could motion you to obey her, but you were quick to push it away and moved to hover your body over hers. With your hand you grabbed her face roughly, forcing her to face you.

-Do you want me to fuck you, Avis?

-Yes. – she was utterly breathless, lust filling every pore in her body as your domineering energy laced your words, sending shivers down her spine as she felt your other hand lazily moving between her ginger locks. Upon grabbing a handful, you pulled hard, a gasp muttered almost against your lips as the pain rippled through Avis’s frame, turning into such pleasure that she thought she might cum on the spot.

-Then behave. We’ve reversed roles, remember? I could have you writhing in pleasure for hours or I could refuse to touch you until you begged and cried for me to eat you out. – God, she loved you, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as your fingers traced the outline of her folds through her underwear, absolutely drenched and so impossibly hot to the touch. – Is this what you want?

-More.

-More? You mean something… like this? – your skilled fingers moved the lacy garment aside, freeing her completely to the warm air of the night. Dipping them properly in between her wet lips, you slid them up and down as slowly as you could, taking in the way her left hand shot out to grab your upper arm, the other one laid hidden under the bunched-up blanket, groans and moans echoing in your ears as her eyes fluttered close. Her neck was right under your mouth, a slow tender lick coming from the hollow between her collarbones to right under her chin, cleaning up the blood you had left there only a few minutes earlier, drawing out a quiet whimper. It was borderline torture, it had to be, the way you were moving at a snail’s pace, and she knew you knew, a smirk on your lips when she opened her eyes with a pleading look.

-Please, Y/N, don’t tease me.

-It’s not enough? Maybe I can do something about it. – your motions stopped completely, the frustration at the lack of friction making her whine. With your lips brushing her ear you whispered lustfully. - Apologise and I’ll give you everything you’ve ever wanted. Just one word, Avis.

-I’m sorry. I’m sorry Y/N! Please, please.

-Well done, darling.

She almost missed the pain on her scalp when you released her hair, but there wasn’t much room for her to think when she felt your lips on her inner thighs, licking the soft skin and kissing your way up to the joint between her hip and her wet folds, her breath hitching in her lungs in anticipation. The instant your tongue slid over them she felt as if she was about to pass out, her eyes rolling to the back on her head, ripping what grass she could grasp with her fist. It didn’t matter how many times you tasted her; she was the most delicious salty meal you could ever have, and there was a perfectly cooked steak maybe two feet from you both, but it could not fill you up the way Avis did. The laps you were doing on her drew out moans and yelps from deep within her, her legs trembling already, hips buckling to try and get as much friction as she could. To keep her still you placed a hand on her lower abdomen, reaching with the tip of your tongue the base of her clit. She was close, you could feel it in the way her thighs were beginning to shake ever so slightly, her moans higher and higher in pitch but they were still not quite there yet. There were wrinkles in the blanket that were digging on your knees, but you cared very little, adding your fingers to the upwards-downwards motion as to coat them in her juices and make sure you didn’t hurt her, though with how your face and upper thighs were practically drowning in her arousal you doubted it could happen.

-God, Y/N, more. Fuck.

Two fingers went deep inside her, pumping gently in and out to let her adjust, your tongue having moved higher until her swollen bundle was twirling lazily in your mouth, her fingers on your head out of habit and to keep you well in place. There was a thin layer of sweat covering Avis’s body that made her glow under the moonlight, her skin flustered and the most erotic shade of red your eyes had ever seen, her head lulling back with each movement from your fingers, pants and yelps echoing against the trees. You should keep her quiet, she could draw the attention of passersby, if there were any, but you couldn’t quite do it, it was just delectable to hear her lost in passion. Without a care in the world. Her walls clenched around you, a sign that you needed to increase the pace of your hand as your lips sucked on her clit, feeling how she was coming undone piece by piece at a faster speed that you had anticipated. She must have really worked herself up throughout the day to be so desperate for release. The hand that was holding her in place pressed a little harder, mixing with the third finger that you had just pushed in, adding to the pleasure that had been steadily building higher and higher, skyrocketing it. Her throat felt raw as she screamed over and over, losing her mind under your ministrations, the tension building as her toes curled and her heels dug onto the earth. With one hard nibble on her clit, along with your fingers curling, pressing almost against the one on her abdomen and she fell completely apart.

-Y/N! YES! AHHH! YES! YES!

There was fire in her veins, white hot flames spreading through every cell, every limb, electric shocks travelling from the top of her head to the tip of her toes and fingers, her head thrashing up and down as she held onto your head, buckling her hips to meet your pace as she rode out her orgasm. Her eyes were open wide for an instant, the sky above peppered with millions of tiny sparkles of light, but she was unsure whether they were real or simply brought on by the pleasure that was rocking her entire body. Either way, she didn’t have enough sense left to think, let alone differentiate between reality and dreams. Your punishing pace never faltered, pants and screams mixing until her juices exploded all over your face, her mouth hanging open in utter silence as her back arched of the ground. So the hand pressing on the abdomen really did work, , a little something you had read in a very inappropriate book, you thought as she squirted all over you, your tongue lapping up and down and around your fingers to make sure you were capturing every single drop until there was nothing left, drinking her in. Your mouth had left her overstimulated clit alone, kissing the soft skin of her thighs and knees as you gently helped her come down from her high, fingers slowing down after a moment or two until her legs stopped trapping your head, dropping onto the floor with gentle trembles, the hand on your head slipping onto the ground. She was completely spent, her head clouded in desire and afterglow passion that kept her laying on the floor panting for air. Pulling out, you used to blanket to wipe your fingers clean, crawling beside her until your head rested over your arm, rubbing Avis’s shoulder in an attempt to calm her racing heart and to let her know you were still there, that you hadn’t left her.

-Well, that was fun, wasn’t it?

-Hmmm – all that she could muster at the moment was to open her eyes lazily, turning her head to look at you as the waves of pleasure left her body, the hand that had been holding onto the blanket finally freeing it form its grip, rubbing your thigh over your dress. – It was fantastic, doll. And you say that Ernie didn’t put you on contract?

-I haven’t lost my touch it seems. And yes, there wasn’t much market for me, I’m afraid.

-Fools, all fools. Trust me, baby, if you ever do lose it, I’ll be the first to inform you.

-Good to know. I was wondering, honey, where did you get this underwear? It’s gorgeous.

-It’s actually tailored. I wanted something special, and I went to my favourite store to see what they could do, and we came up with this. I wanted the flowers in gold and white, but they didn’t stand out enough, so we settled on blue and green. Did you notice what flowers they are?

-I’m afraid not, I was too busy staring at your magnificent breasts. – a loud laugh burst from her throat, floating in the air around you as she tapped your thigh in amusement. It was a gift the way you made her adore herself the same way you worshipped her body, as if she was a work of art. After a moment it died down, leaving a small smile on her swollen lips.

-Thank you for the compliment, dear. As for the flowers, they are orange blossoms.

-Avis.

-I know, I didn’t have to do this, but I wanted to. I wanted to have something that clearly means the world to you as closer to me as possible. I couldn’t risk a necklace with your picture, so I settled for the next best thing that would still keep you near my heart.

Your hands took hold on her waist, pulling her body impossibly close to yours, needing her in your space, in your personal bubble. With your left hand you turned her face towards you until your lips met hers, a sweet tender kiss to show her just how much you appreciated the gesture. You would never met someone like her, there was no one like Avis in this entire universe and you couldn’t believe how lucky you were to have found her. She still needed a minute or two to go back to normal, the lazy patterns your fingers were painting on her overheated skin soothing the sensations that were still clinging to her skin. Breaking the kiss your head hid in the crook of her neck, smelling her perfume and the soft hint of sweat that laid over her flesh, but Avis’s eyes were staring up at the sky. The deep universe that laid up above was sprinkled with billions of stars, glinting and shinning like diamond in the firmament, coloured clouds of dust swirling between them, around them, all over, in bright pinks, reds and purples, brushstrokes of baby blue blending among them. They formed a perfect line that crossed from North to South, and as the seconds went by perfect white swirls appeared all around as if an explosion of the most beautiful colour palette had just happened before her eyes, the universe in constant change right in front of her. She could spend all eternity laying here with your body pressed against hers, eyes taking in every little detail of the world around her, the deep emerald trees blending with the navy blue in perfect contrast. A gentle cooing reached her ears, eyes moving from left to right until they settled on the owl that had perched itself high up on a pine tree a while ago, its piercing yellow eyes watching her for an instant before they returned to the deep valley beneath you all. She had lost track of time she realised.

-Y/N?

-Hmm? – with a tender peck on the side of her neck you turned your head to look at her, observing how enthralled she was by the sky. It warmed your heart to see that even after so many years of Avis walking on this planet there were still secrets you could show her, images that her eyes had never laid upon and that you had the power to engrave in her mind.

-Have I told you that I love you?

-Once or twice, I think.

-Well, don’t you forget it, because I truly love you.

-As if I ever could when I love you just as much, Avis.

Her hands slid over yours, a small smile on her lips as she closed her eyes, letting your heat seep into her skin and bones. A cool breeze swept through the clearing, a deep shiver shaking Avis’s frame. It was beginning to get cold, and as you glanced down at your wristwatch you saw that it was nearly eleven, too late for you both after the day you had had. You didn’t want to unwrap yourself from Avis’s frame, but you didn’t want her to get sick, your hands pulling her into a sitting position to hook the corselette back in place, being extra careful not to touch her sensitive nipples. As she adjusted her bosom you crawled around picking up her skirt and blouse, hissing as you felt your knees land right over the spot where all of Avis’s hairpins had landed, cursing under your breath. You had half a mind to leave them there but you didn’t want Avis to ask about them when you were already ten miles away from here and have to drive back to not find them in the dark, so you went around feeling the blanket with your palms and putting them in your pocket until you were sure you had most of them. She was waiting patiently on her knees, the pearly beams bathing her skin as if she was dressed in silver. Your eyes stared at her tussled hair and bruised skin for an instant, contemplating your handy work with pride before handing her the clothes. As you dealt with the uneaten food and spilt cups of wine, from the corner of your eye, you watched Avis stepping into her skirt, the perfect curve of her ass so tempting, the black garment hugging her perfectly as she zipped it before pushing her head through the blouse, smoothing the fabric best she could once everything was in place, running a hand through her slightly knotted curls. Standing up you were about to put the basket back in the trunk when Avis stopped you.

-We still have the ride home; all this doesn’t have to go to waste. Just give it to me.

She had a new lightness to her, her feet almost skipping barefoot over the grass as she rounded the hood of the car to leave the basket on the passenger’s seat, heading your way to help you fold the blanket once you had put the champagne bottle in the trunk. Nature suited her, it gave her a new look on things, it made her feel alive, as if there was something much bigger than her that she had the opportunity to contemplate. Maybe one day the both of you could live in a secluded spot without a worry in the universe, only the trees or the waves witnesses to your love. Once Avis had put her shoes on your eyes there was nothing left on the ground, no sign of what had transpired in the last few hours, and as you were about to turn towards the car you felt for an instant that you could not quite go, that everything had been too perfect to lose it, to only keep it as a memory. Avis had noticed your slumped shoulders and was quick to wrap her arm around your waist and pull you close, simply watching it all. She wanted to say something but was unsure as to what, she wasn’t sure if you even needed to hear something, feeling as if she had to let you go through this on your own terms. So, she simply stood by you, her presence comforting as you once more said a mental goodbye to your home. It never got easier even if it wasn’t really your land or your country, but the sky above was always the same, no matter where you stood the same stars shone bright and glinted in the night and you knew that no matter many oceans separated you from your family they were looking up at the same firmament, a point of eternal union. With a quite sigh you promised yourself that you would come by soon, with Avis if you could.

Nodding against her shoulder Avis understood the movement and gently guided you towards the car, letting go of your hand after opening the door for you. With the both of you settled over the leather seats, the warmth of the cabin a welcome feeling on Avis’s slightly chilled skin you turned the engine on and carefully drove down the same path you had used to get there in the first place. “In the Mood” was playing on the radio, a cheery tune that quickly lifted your spirts, a fork with a piece of steak appearing in your line of vision. With a chuckled you took the meat, chewing even though it was cold, not that you minded, the rich flavours still there, just dulled a little. Hearing some ruffling beside you, you turned your attention away from the road for a moment to see Avis battling with a potato that kept sliding off her fork, the gravy dripping in thick drops. Reaching the edge of the woods, the sign for Runon Park shone bright against your car’s headlights, showing the way to those awful secondary roads that you needed to drive trough to get to the freeway, but the ride wasn’t as back. Avis kept feeding you every few minutes, a light banter and chatter settling between you over the music that the radio was playing, a sip from the bottle of wine smoothing everything down beautifully until there was only a little bit less of the red liquid left once you got to the freeway.

At that time of night there wasn’t much traffic, and you could slip your eyes of the road just a tad bit more to look at Avis as she gave you the final bite of the Caesar salad, moving on to the fruit. There were strawberries, bananas and what you suspected were slices of oranges, not entirely sure from your current angle. Avis showed you the fork with some of it, asking simply by raising her eyebrows, but you kindly declined, full already and not desiring a night of tossing and turning with indigestion, she could have it all if she wanted them. The radio began to play a different tune, something a bit slower, the atmosphere in the car adapting perfectly as you took exit 56, your companion resting her back against the seat while munching happily on what you were now sure were oranges. The Amberg residence was only a few streets away already, swerving the car around the corner, the night inching closer to an end that neither of you wanted, reality settling in between you once again, those stupid social norms that kept you from simply walking into her house and never leaving. The streetlamps shone bright as you came up to the gates, noticing strangely that they were slightly open, Mr. Breaton nowhere to be found, but you didn’t think much of it, he was an older man and it was already late, he could have simply gone home.

Parking on the side, in your unofficial spot, you turned the engine off. There was no beating around the bush, she was home, and she didn’t want to part ways with you, she simply wasn’t ready; there was a voice in the back of her mind that told her that she had to stay with you. Avis had turned her head in your direction, but the words she was about to say never made it out, your body already out of the car, rounding the hood to open the door for her. You didn’t want to leave her, of course, but you weren’t going to cry about it either, you preferred to cling to the memories of this evening, stretching your hand to help her out after pushing the door out of the way. She was pleasantly surprised by the gesture and smiled up at you, a charming “thank you” leaving her lips. Maybe it wouldn’t be as hard to convince as she had thought. Accompanying her to the front door the breeze that swayed around you both was turning colder by the minute, a very slow fog forming around the streetlamps. The hairs on the nape of your neck suddenly rose, your body filled with goosebumps, the strangest sensation spreading through your body, but you were quick to push it away. The porchlight was on, glowing softly as you walked the few steps that separated the garden from the front doors, coming to stand under its roof. It was rather childish the way you were both simply standing there, like a teenage couple that had just returned from watching a film or having a milkshake, wanting to stay with each other but knowing that the best thing was to part ways. And yet your hands never left hers.

-Here we are.

-Yes, here we are.

-You can stay if you want. There’s more than enough room in my bed for you. – her grip was a bit harder, hope blooming in her chest that perhaps tonight she wouldn’t have to go up to an empty bedroom and lay awake all alone.

-I know, but your daughter’s home and you need to sleep. I’ve kept you out long enough already.

-She doesn’t have to know.

-I don’t want to ruin the relationship you are building with her. I don’t want you to lie to her and break that bond that you’ve been working so hard on.

-I don’t want you to go. – her voice was so small; it sounded so weak and sad that you were tempted to stay and throw caution to the wind, but you knew that if you stayed Claire would go nuts at you both if she found out, and you were more than sure that you would find it very hard to not sleep with Avis again and she really needed to rest. Letting go of one of her hands you placed it on her cheek, rubbing the soft skin tenderly.

-I don’t want to either but think about it this way. If I go, you will have something look forward to the next time we met. True that it won’t be in a week, we will see each other again at the studio tomorrow, but I’m sure that you will look forward to it.

-Will you have lunch with me then?

-Of course. Now, go in and go to bed. I think I’ve left you satiated enough that sleep will find you easily.

-Cheeky. Thank you for tonight Y/N. I’m grateful that you showed me such a special place. I didn’t know there was anything like that here.

-It was my pleasure, believe me. Perhaps when the weather allows it, you and I can go visit a few more of those secret spots.

-I would love to. I’ll see you tomorrow?

-Tomorrow.

-I love you.

-I love you too.

These bittersweet kisses were not your favourites by far, after all partings never were even if they were only temporary, but at least you would go to bed with the flavour of her and the acidity of the oranges she had just had deep in your lips. Separating after a few seconds, she flashed you a bright smile before pulling her keys put of her purse and opening the doors. From underneath the threshold she blew you a kiss, your hand moving to catch it and place it close to your heart. The darkness of the hall swallowed her, and you stood there until the sound of the heavy oak closing in front of you boomed in your head. Perhaps you had been wrong, maybe you could stay tonight, just once, you thought, but your musings were interrupted by the sudden feeling that someone was watching you. For an instant you thought it might be Claire, but the curtains of her room were drawn and there were no shapes near the windows. Turning around you inspected the garden but there was no one there and yet the feeling only got worse, the fog settling faster than you liked as you made your way to your car as quickly as possible. Avis heard the rumbling of your motor from the bedroom, removing her clothes as she stepped into the bathroom, that feeling that you should have stayed stronger than before but there was nothing she could do about it now. Backing out from the house and back onto the road you didn’t see the figures dressed in black that came from the shadows, slipping into Avis’s house without an issue, hands signalling onto the empty street, or what might have been an empty street if a black Lincoln hadn’t unparked out of the blue, following you into the night. Come the next day you would realise that its headlights never turned on.

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Toxic Love

Yandere Male Cherub x Gender Neutral Reader (CW: Stalking, magical mind manipulation, religious themes, dub-con, general yandere behavior, smut) Word Count: 1.3k (A long time ago I had written a similar piece to this, but I deleted it because there was a request on another blog, that i had not seen until after I wrote my piece, that looked like it had heavily influenced my fic. Now I have reworked and added smut in celebration of Valentine’s Day. I hope you all enjoy. I apologize for any mistakes I forgot that it was going to be Valentine’s Day until just a few hours ago.) 

Celael was a cherub. There were many cherubs, more commonly known as cupids. None of them looked like little flying babies though. Most actually had long hair, one set of wings, and skin in varying tones of pink and sometimes lavender or even red. Celael’s wings were a pastel pink, matching his skin tone, but his shoulder length hair was light lavender and his eyes were a passionate crimson red. Most cupids were happy with their existence, taking both pride and joy in their work, spreading love among the humans. But Celael was not happy at all. Through the countless years of diligently carrying out assignments, matching humans together, and keeping the love flowing for mortals he became more and more empty until he was pretty much running on autopilot. Just going through the motions. A void was festering within him that he failed to understand. Co-workers and friends did nothing to fill it, his job seemed a cruel mockery. He influenced the hearts and minds of humans until they were filled to the brim with love, but he could do nothing for his own ever withering soul. But he kept doing his sacred duty. But then one day he got an assignment to set up a cook in a little restaurant with a co-worker and when he went to go pierce each one of their hearts with a set of bonded arrows to push their hearts towards love he suddenly realized what he was missing. That cook he was supposed to match together with a waiter was you. And you were just exactly what he was missing. Every time he gazed upon you his heart beat faster and his palms grew sweaty, was this what love was? And just like many humans that didn’t need a supernatural push he was experiencing this all entirely without arrows. He decided to observe you to be sure, he knew how love worked and he wanted to be sure of his emotions. Celael was entirely invisible to you as he stalked you, watching you at all hours of the day. He loved the way you nervously stammered when talking to your boss. He loved the way you carried yourself, all shy but determined to do your best. And most of all he loved how you treated others, without an ounce of malice in your heart, though it made him worry that someone could take advantage of you, and that thought is what sealed the deal. You needed someone to keep you safe, someone stronger than another mere mortal. Someone like… an angel. After all, your co-worker could not do a fraction of what he could do for you. He could let you know safety in the paradise of heaven. And why shouldn’t he, your designated match was a mortal the same age that you were, but he was as old as time! He had paid his dues, served humanity for countless ages, didn’t he deserve you a whole hell of a lot more? He thought so. So he formulated a plan and set it into action, he had to get you to have just a small amount of feelings for him. That’s how the arrows worked, there had to be something there naturally for them to work off of. And this would also give him a chance to know you better than he had ever known any human, or anyone at all for that matter. Celael donned a human disguise. His wings were gone, his eyes became brown, his skin slightly tan, and his hair black. He, under the name Cel, applied for the position of waiter that had opened up after your inconsiderate co-worker just disappeared, seemingly walking off the job in the middle of break and never returning without ever mentioning it to anyone. Over the course of weeks and then months Celael became your absolute best friend, you confided everything in him and trusted him completely. You were practically attached at the hip and could always be seen together. Just when you thought you might be starting to have the slightest whisper of feelings for him you felt a pain in your heart and collapsed. With only a brief flutter of wings Celael whisked you off to his little corner of heaven, it was a cozy cottage on a large floating island that was surrounded by a pink sky. The amorous cupid placed you on his comfortable bed and waited for you to wake. When you did finally rise from your magically induced slumber he could tell by the way that you looked at him that everything he had done had worked flawlessly. He had shot you with some extremely strong and illegally crafted love and lust arrows to make you only have eyes for him. You saw Cel upon opening your eyes and your heart immediately fluttered while your crotch felt a bit warm, but there was something wrong. He had wings and odd hair and skin, and this wasn’t your bed. You looked up at Cel and started to question him but he closed the distance between the two of you and leaned in for a kiss, pushing everything else to the back of your mind as all of your conscious thoughts were consumed with your focus on him. He disrobed you and rubbed your thighs gently before kissing a trail up them to your crotch and using his mouth on your sex. You stroked his pretty hair and silently moaned and gasped, unable to form words because your need for him was so deep. Celael, who you still only knew as Cel gently guided you into missionary position and aligned his large cock with your hole before sliding in fully in one smooth motion. Now it was Celael’s turn to gasp, in his many years of life this was his first time giving in to carnal desires, never had he known a greater pleasure than when he slipped into you. He took his time, this was a delicate and wonderful act that was surely meant to be savored, he slowly thrust in and out of you as he tenderly licked and kissed from your neck to your lips, He planted a deep kiss to your lips and moaned into the kiss. He was sloppy, but passionate, you could practically fill the emotions radiating off of him and you matched them perfectly. You had never felt like this before, so dizzy, so lost in the moment, but you were with Cel and that was all that mattered. He bit and sucked gently at your nipples before putting you into a mating press and going quite a bit faster, but not ruthlessly. The cherub continued at a good pace until right before you both came, when he slammed his lips into yours so you could share a kiss as twin orgasms racked both of your bodies. He draped his wings over you while holding you tight, happy tears in his eyes as he beheld you. That festering void that had been within him so long had at long last been filled. A bit of the fog that had been building in your head during the intimate act started to disperse and you had so many questions but seemingly as if reading your mind Celael shushed you as you began to open your mouth. “Not now my beloved, we can talk in the morning, right now let’s just rest okay?” You murmured your agreement and the angel repositioned you both so that you were both on your sides with him behind you. He spooned you with an arm and a wing draped over you as his large cock slid back inside of you, it did not take long for him to drift into a blissful sleep and even though you felt something was really off you gave into love for him and fell asleep beside him.

[kckt88]

Don't Mess With My Mind II

Summary:

Aemond and Y/N continue their secret affair and Aegon discovers that his girlfriend is pregnant.

Features an Aemond POV.

Warning(s): Angst, Language, Hurt, Comfort, Alcohol Consumption, Mean Of Cheating, Kissing, Smut – Fingering, Oral Sex (M & F Receiving), Unprotected P in V Sex, Confrontation, Violence.

Word Count: 3174

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

MODERN AU - AEMOND x Y/N - AEGON x Y/N

Inspired by the song: EMO - Don't Mess With My Mind.

Tag List: @immyowndefender, @zenka69, @iloveallmyboys, @summerposie, @namelesslosers, @dixie-elocin, @aemondsfavouritebastard, @toodlesxcuddles, @ammo23

Aemond remembered the first time Aegon brought Y/N back to their flat, she was such a timid little thing, almost like a mouse, not his brothers usual type at all.

But there was something about the way her eyes would light up when she smiled or the way she would bite her lower lip whenever she was reading.

It drove Aemond to distraction, never had he been so enamoured with anyone, not even his older ex who admittedly sucked his cock like a pro.

There were times when he would catch her looking at him wistfully from across the room and he would always wonder what she was thinking in that exact moment.

One day he caught her coming out of the shower with nothing, but a towel wrapped around her body and his cock responded in earnest.

That was the night he brought some big titted bimbo back to the flat, he closed his eye as he fucked her from behind, imagining that it was Y/N who was screaming his name and coming on his cock.

Another night he brought home some demure brown haired whisp of a woman, who he fucked into the mattress, his face pressed into her neck envisioning Y/N as he spilled into the condom.

The red head he brought home, now she was a freak. Never had any woman asked him to do anal on their first go but he was more than happy to oblige, he even invited her back for another go, but she began to get a bit clingy afterwards and he had to bin her off before she got worse.

He even resorted to seeing Alys again in between his slut phase, he would go to her flat and listen to her harp on about stuff he really didn’t give two shits about, then he would bend her over whatever surface was the closet and fuck her hard.

But nothing compared to Y/N.

Some nights he would hear Aegon fucking her, his brothers groans of pleasure sickening him to his stomach as he never once heard any of hers.

A woman like that deserved to be worshipped, she was a kindred spirit that needed releasing from the prison of his brother’s lacklustre affection.

But as always Aegon fucked things up for himself. His drinking had always been a problem and he’d ended up cheating on Y/N with her best friend no less.

Maybe he shouldn’t have propositioned her the way he did, as she was upset about Aegon, but he just couldn’t help himself.

As upset as she was Y/N clearly had a little vindictive streak in her as she readily agreed to go to bed with him.

He was going to make good on his promise and fuck her so hard that forgot Aegon’s name.

All his Christmases had clearly come at once as the feeling of Y/N’s lips on his was better than anything he’d ever imagined, the noises she made when he devoured her pussy like a starving man would linger with him for the rest of his days.

He loved eating pussy, something his previous partners were ever grateful for, but nothing compared to Y/N’s she was delicious in a way he’d never tasted before.

Even the feel of her tight, wet heat wrapped around his cock was everything he’d ever dreamt of, he never wanted to be anywhere else, and, in all honesty, he had never come so hard in his life, rope and after rope of his seed, coated her insides and the sight of it dripping from her drove him feral with need.

Even after she had left his flat, her lavender scent still lingered on his sheets, and he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

So, after he finished work the next day he went to her flat and threw her legs over his shoulders and devoured her sweet pussy until she was screaming his name.

After that it became a regular thing between them, she still hadn’t officially ended her relationship with his brother, but it didn’t matter. It was more fun this way.

They would usually met up at her flat, she lived alone, so it was easier to fuck her over every available surface and not worry about anyone walking in on them.

He would on occasion bring her back to his flat, careful of course to avoid Aegon, the idiot hadn’t realised that she’d caught him with Sara, and he would often complain that Y/N wasn’t responding to his calls or texts.

It gave Aemond a sick twisted sense of satisfaction after his brother would sit there lamenting his lost relationship only for Aemond to invite Y/N over and fuck her in the next room.

Once he had her pressed against his door with his cock deep inside her as his brother was on the other side complaining that he was making too much noise.

He even fucked Y/N in Aegon’s bed once, his drunken wastrel of a brother had finally got off his arse and gone out and the opportunity was too good to pass up.

Initially Y/N had her reservations, but she soon caved in when he slowly fingered her and then bent her over the desk and fucked her raw.

It was filthy, it was depraved and Aemond was living for it.

He would sometimes take her out on dates, something his cunt of a brother never did, and he would delight in teasing her pussy with his fingers as they sat waiting for their food in whatever restaurant they were in.

Of course his little mouse would get her own back and once when they went to the cinema she leaned over him and slowly sucked his cock, teasing him with her tongue to the point of madness before she allowed him to come in her mouth.

One time he even dared to surprise her at work when she was on a break, and he took her against the wall of the smoking shelter.

He delighted in the noises she made as she came around his cock, and the way she would slid her fingers into his hair and pull as she rode out her high.

The thrill of getting caught was intoxicating and it only made Aemond want her more.

The day he realised that he was completely in love with her was when they were laid naked with one another, their sweaty limbs entwined as she leaned over and pressed a series of gentle kisses to the scarred side of his face.

She called him beautiful, and she made him feel special. No woman had ever spoke to him in such a manner, and it warmed his heart beyond all comprehension.

Y/N was the silver lining on the dark cloud he called his life and he never wanted to be without her.

Ever since she had took that test Y/N was on pins, she knew that she had to tell Aemond, he had a right to know, but she was scared of how he would react.

They hadn’t talked for any length of time about a possible relationship and now she was pregnant with his baby.

Of course, there was also Aegon to deal with and that in itself was enough to give her a headache, and she really didn’t want to deal with him in that moment.

What she needed to do was get her head around the fact that she was pregnant and then after she’d summoned the courage, she would need to tell Aemond.

She didn’t see Aemond for a week, as they were both busy at work, so that gave Y/N the time to think.

One night she found herself eating a tub of pringles with her had pressed against her still flat stomach and she smiled at the thought that a piece of her and Aemond was growing inside her.

She wondered who the baby would look like, would he or she have her features or would they take after Aemond, which in truth Y/N didn’t mind at all.

After all, Aemond was a gorgeous man, his sharp features and piercing blue eye were surely a gift from the gods and a blessing to pass onto their child-boy or girl.

Sure enough, the week was over and after changing her outfit three times, Y/N was walking to Aemond’s.

She placed in her earphones and turned up the volume as Elvis Presley – I can’t help falling in love with you came on.

Most people had sneered at her music choices, but there was just something serene about the way Elvis sang. She couldn’t help but listen to him especially when she felt anxious.

Obviously, the current song choice was a bit on the nose, but it couldn’t have been more appropriate in that moment, because she couldn’t help but fall in love with Aemond and she hoped he felt the same way.

Eventually, Y/N found herself outside Aemond’s flat and after turning off her music and stowing her headphones on her pocket she took a deep breath as she knocked on the door. After a few minutes the door opened and Aemond stood there in a loose fitted white t-shirt and those damn sweatpants that made his cock look-

“-Is everything ok?” asked Aemond as he motioned for her to come in.

“I-I need to tell you something” replied Y/N as she sat on the sofa.

“What’s wrong?” mused Aemond as he sat in the armchair across from her.

“I’m pregnant” said Y/N.

“Huh” muttered Aemond, his mouth hanging open.

“I’m pregnant-and you’re the father”.

Aemond went rigid in his seat and stared unblinking at Y.N. He didn’t move as he mulled over what Y.N had just told him.

“A-Aemond-are you ok? Do you need some water?” asked Y/N concerned.

“N-No I’m good” replied Aemond clearing his throat.

“I would say it’s a bit of a shock, but we weren’t exactly diligent with the condoms”.

Aemond nodded his head in agreement, he could probably count on one hand the amount of times they did actually use protection. Most of their encounters usually ended up with him fucking her raw. Seeing her sweet cunt filled to the brim with his seed drove him feral, even thinking about it now he could feel his cock stirring.

“What do you plan to do?” asked Aemond.

“I’ve thought about it, and I know were young, but I want to keep the baby, you can be involved as much as you like-or if you don’t I understand” muttered Y/N.

“Of course, I want to be involved, yes I agree that were young, but I won’t turn my back on my child, I will be there for you every step of the way” urged Aemond.

“Y-You will?” gasped Y/N her eyes filling with tears.

“Just try and stop me” said Aemond smiling.

“I know a baby is huge responsibility but-“ said Y.N.

“-Your pregnant”

Y/N shot up from the sofa as she spotted Aegon standing in the doorway.

“Yes” replied Y/N as she glanced at Aemond who had also risen from his seat.

“Are you keeping it?”

“Yes, I am” said Y/N frowning.

“I guess it is the reason why you’ve been ghosting me for the last few weeks?” mused Aegon.

“The baby isn’t an it, Aegon” groused Y/N.

“What else am I supposed to call it-you do realise that I’m not ready to be a father, besides you always insisted that I wear condom so how are you pregnant?” asked Aegon.

Y.N took a deep breath to steady her nerves, it was now or never.

“Aegon-your not the father” said Y/N firmly.

“If I’m not the father-you’ve been screwing around behind my back?” snarled Aegon.

“Like you can take the moral high ground, especially after I walked in on you fucking my so called best friend” quipped Y/N.

“Y-You saw that?” muttered Aegon,

“Yes, I did, so don’t you dare make me out to be the bad guy” snapped Y/N

“I-It was a mistake, a onetime thing, I was drunk-please Y/N” begged Aegon.

“Typical Aegon, there’s always an excuse, you never accept responsibility for any of the shit things you do and I’m sick of it”.

“Y/N” gasped Aegon.

“No, we’re done” replied Y/N shaking her head.

Aegon bowed his head for a moment, almost as he was ashamed but then he glared at her and bared his teeth like a wild animal.

“Who’s the father?” asked Aegon.

“Does it matter?” muttered Y/N.

“Yes, it does.  NOW FUCKING TELL ME” balled Aegon as he seized Y/N by the arms and began shaking her.

“Aegon, let her go” urged Aemond as he inserted himself between his brother and Y/N and pushed him away.

“No, she’s fucked around behind my back and got pregnant, I want to know who’s bastard she carries” retorted Aegon as he went for Y/N again only to be blocked by Aemond.

“I’m the father” admitted Aemond.

There was an awkward moment of silence before Aegon went ballistic.

“YOU” shouted Aegon.

“Yes” replied Aemond.

“How long-HOW FUCKING LONG?”

“Since the night I saw you with Sara” admitted Y/N.

“Oh, so what, this was some type of revenge for me screwing your slag of a mate”.

“The first time was, but then-“

“-Then what?” demanded Aegon.

“I fell in love with him” whispered Y/N.

“Y-You love me?” asked Aemond, his breath hitching in his throat.

“Yes, I do” said Y/N smiling.

“I love you too” replied Aemond as he rested his forehead against Y/N’s.

“Wait a minute-All those times I heard you fucking someone in your room, it was her”.

“Yes” replied Aemond.

“Is this about Floris?” asked Aegon rounding on Aemond.

“You seriously think that I would stoop so low?”

“W-Who’s that?” asked Y/N.

“Oh, what’s this-don’t tell me she doesn’t know about your Baratheon bitch” snarked Aegon.

“Floris was my girlfriend, until I found her in bed with my brother”.

“You just can’t help yourself can you-sticking your cock where it doesn’t belong?” shrieked Y/N as she jabbed Aegon in the chest.

“She came onto me, obviously bored with his limp dick and mangled face” snarled Aegon as he reached into the cupboard and pulled out a half empty bottle of vodka.

“What did you just say?” questioned Aemond.

“I said-limp dick with a mangled face” snapped Aegon as he took a large swig of vodka.

“How can you be so cruel” exclaimed Y/N.

“It’s a gift” shrugged Aegon, once again raising the bottle to his lips.

“Say it again-go on, FUCKING SAY IT AGAIN” roared Aemond.

“Why-What you going to do you one eyed freak, you know Luke should have lowered his aim and slit your whiny cunt throat, done us all a favour” laughed Aegon.

“Aemond-NO” exclaimed Y/N as she was buffeted out of the way by Aemond who ripped the vodka bottle from Aegon’s hand and threw it across the room. The glass bottle exploded as it came into contact with the wall.

“You fucking frea-” shrieked Aegon reeling backwards as Aemond punched him in the face.

Aegon quickly rose from the ground and tackled his brother, both of them falling the floor with a heavy thud.

“You-fucking-cunt” breathed Aemond as one of Aegon’s punched connected with his nose.

“If anyone is the cunt here, its you” wheezed Aegon as Aemond managed to knee him in the stomach.

“Aemond-please, stop” urged Y/N desperately, however he couldn’t seem to hear her, too lost to his rage as he repeatedly punched every bit of Aegon he could reach.

Y/N reached forward and pulled on Aemond’s t-shirt, suddenly he reared backwards, and Y/N was propelled away from the fighting brothers, she slipped on the remnants of spilled vodka and collided with the floor, landing awkwardly on her stomach.

At the sound of Y/N hitting the floor, Aemond quickly came back to his senses, his eye widening at the sight of her laying haphazardly on her side with a hand on her stomach.

Aemond levered himself off Aegon and immediately went to Y/N, crouching slowly beside her.

“Y/N-are you ok?” asked Aemond nervously.

“T-The baby” whispered Y/N, her lip wobbling.

“Come on, I’ll take you to the hospital” muttered Aemond as he wrapped his arms around Y/N and gently lifted her off the floor.

“Aemond I-“

“-Just to be on the safe side” said Aemond as he grabbed his car keys and guided Y/N out of the flat, completely ignoring Aegon was hunched over by the wall, his nose dripping with blood.

All the way to the hospital Y/N didn’t speak, even as they waited for the doctor to examine her, she remained silent.

Aemond felt terrible, he’d only just learned that Y.N was pregnant, what if his fight with Aegon had cost him his child, it made his insides twist uncomfortably at the thought.

The doctor eventually arrived and checked Y/N vitals and then she was sent for an internal scan.

Aemond held Y/N’s hand as the scan was performed, and he found himself praying to whoever was listening that their baby would be ok.

Aemond hadn’t prayed since he was a child, not since he lost his eye and had to suffer through multiple surgical procedures to correct the damage that his nephew had done. The last procedure was for his prosthetic eye and even that was an experience he wasn’t keen to repeat, he could still remember the feeling of the cold malleable substance that was poured into his empty socket.

Y/N squeezed his hand as a single tear ran down her cheek, and Aemond’s heart was on the cusp of breaking when the doctor finally gave them the news that their baby was fine.

Aemond let out a breath of relief and he pressed a kiss to Y/N’s hand as the doctor pointed towards the screen and showed them the tiny flickering heartbeat.

With orders to get some rest and stayed hydrated, Aemond took Y/N back to her flat, the printed picture of their baby safely ensconced in his wallet.

Still Y.N barely spoke as he helped her into bed and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

He could feel his mobile vibrating in his pocket, no doubt Aegon had been on the phone to their mother and lied through his teeth, but that was a problem for later.

“Stay with me-please” whispered Y/N.

“Ok” replied Aemond as he placed his keys, wallet, and phone on the beside table and toed off his boots before slipping into bed.

“Hold me” pleaded Y/N, her voice so soft and delicate.

Aemond didn’t need asking twice, he wrapped his arm around Y.N and pulled her towards him, his nose buried in her hair.

“I love you Aemond-” whispered Y/N.

“-I love you too” replied Aemond.

“Do you need to get that?” asked Y/N as the sound of Aemond’s phone vibrating echoed around the room.

“It’s my mother-no doubt Aegon’s told her his version of what’s happened so she’s probably ringing to give me an earful”.

“I-If you don’t want to go back to your flat, you always stay here for a bit” suggested Y/N, her voice small but somewhat hopeful.

“I’ll stay for as long as you’ll have me” exclaimed Aemond.

“Forever” whispered Y.N as she closed her eyes.

“Forever” repeated Aemond as he tightened his hold on Y.N and smiled softly.

His hand drifted towards her stomach and Aemond couldn't help but smile.

Their child was currently inside her, and he couldn't wait to see her stomach swell.

It was his seed that had taken root and bloomed into life and soon everyone would see, and they would all know that she belonged to him.

Just as she was always supposed too.

[crvngefrvll]

Okay so some Harry Potter opinions/hot take

I love Wolfstar, Deamus, and Scorbus (and TBH WE ALL KNOW WE ONLY READ THE CURSED CHILD SCRIPT BECAUSE OF THEM?!!??) Too much and if you want to fight or criticize me about go argue with the wall 🙂‍↔️🙏

Deamus is very canon in our eyes. Don't fight with me 🙇‍♀️

I didn't like the TCC plot itself (idk who does tbh) but I like the fact that Albus and Scorpius are like two outcasts I relate to them a lot personally...sorry.

Ron wasn't dumb, really. Well he isn't the book smart kind, but he knows how to get his way in most situations 🙂‍↕️

Lavender Brown DESERVES better and I don't understand why she is so hated (probably because she was dating Ron, BUT LIKE c'mon guys weren't they just teenagers? Don't act like you don't have crushes too 💀💀💀- well unless you're aromantic 😅)

OH AND ALSO CHO CHANG. I feel bad for her because she hasn't moved on but Cedric but still she is so hated for some reason????

I couldn't really understand why Ginny dated Dean? I assumed she did that for casual dating, for fun, or to make Harry jealous(?) Idk (oh and also off topic but I have read many fanfics about jealous! Seamus towards Dean and Ginny's relationship and I love them lollll)

But I personally think if Ginny still likes Harry but still dated Dean anyway- I don't know why she would do it just for her and Dean to break up? NOT BECAUSE I think Ginny shouldn't date Dean, but Dean probably thought him and Ginny were in a serious relationship and stuff-

I haven't picked up the books for a very long time but did Harry use the Felix Felicis only to make Ginny and Dean break up? Or are any other factors to that? (Because if so, I think it's kinda mean but I understand the jealousy)

HERMIONE DEFINITELY KNEW GINNY HAD A CRUSH ON HARRY/VICE VERSA BEFORE ANYONE ELSE DID 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️

Everyone in the fandom IS a real fan and no one is lesser of a Harry Potter fan than the other

The movies lacked a lot but I enjoy it anyways..

People mostly ship drarry, dramione, Blairon, etc not necessarily because they HAVE chemistry, but because of what they could have been or become and the amount of "tension" that they have (which is not necessarily a good romantic tension but rather about their obsession with each other?)

I don't ship these ships above but I can kinda understand (?) Why people do?

You can be anti drarry, anti dramione, drarry shipper, dramione shipper, wolfstar shipper, jegulus shipper and more (anti) ships WITHOUT personally harrasing...yk...the PEOPLE who ship them. Some of you cyberbully real people over fictional characters...sorry

That's it for now...if you all like this I will make a part 2 of opinions

Okay have a great day :D

[who-knew-a-sheep-can-write]

Warmth in the Sheets: Bigby Wolf x Reader (Semi-NSFW)

He didn’t deserve something like this.

He didn’t deserve warmth and comfort for his despicable crimes against his own people, his own kind - if you could even consider any of them to be his own kind. Every time he even thought of that or even hear the mutter whispers of Fables on the streets, he would find himself smirking sarcastically ever so slightly.

Because they’re not his kind. None of them are his kind; his kind died when he was left alone after his mother passed and his brothers vanished. None of them knew what it was like to grow up the way he did, and because Fables - the ones who appear mostly mundy that is - judge him as though he were lower than them. They fear the unknown, and yet, they poke around in the darkness and act as though they’re innocent when the ugly truth comes barreling out (albeit as a giant wolf the height of a house). Princes and Queens and Fable royalty scoff and sneer at him as though he is their unruly guard dog.

But that’s what he is, isn’t he?

An unruly guard dog who has to beat the shit out of Fables who once ruled enchanted kingdoms and Fables who were the most popular and liked of all. Or as the plaque on his crumbling, cigarette-stained wall states: Sheriff of Fabletown.

But in all of the stenches that makes up lower Manhattan and the filth that Fables bring in from the mundy world, he had finally found a safe haven in all the spit and rot that was this cruel world.

Through softly patterned curtains, sunlight filtered through, seeping through the slightest part in the drapes to shine onto his eyes. Screwing them closed didn’t help, so the wolf simply let out a grumble deep from his throat and cracked his eyes open.

His body laid mostly naked, wrapped in the softest sheets he had ever felt, softer than how he remembers his mother’s fur. The bruises and scratches and scrapes had closed somewhere throughout the night, the aches had ebbed away into nothingness. He laid there in pure bliss, one of the few little luxuries he got when he didn’t stay in his crumbling apartment.

Bigby took in the scents of the cushioned pillow cradling his head, hints of soft lavender and roses dancing with a scent even nicer on his nose. The sheets were no better, smelling wonderfully, tickling his nose.

In this room, he had no need to reach for the crumpled cigarette carton and lighter that sat on the end table with his wallet and phone. In this room, he no longer felt the painful blows battered onto his solid body. In this room, for the first time in a very long time, he felt safe.

Bigby turned over, the sheets twisting at his cut waist and over his board back, the wolf no longer wanting sun in his eyes. He wanted something else in his field of view, to which he got immediately.

There was a figure in the bed with him, almost fully naked like himself with just underwear on. The blankets were barely covering anything, allowing Bigby’s eyes to roam. Wolfish brown eyes trailed the nape of the neck downwards, along the spine which had been slightly twisted by the sheets to the legs tangled in them. There were some marks on their back, some you barely would notice to ones that stated obviously what had happened the night before. From little bruises the size of quarters to red raised carvings down your back, the signs were all there.

The scent radiating off of them was heavenly, music to his nose. Their heartbeat in his ears was like a steady soft drumming.

Bigby reached a hand over the small space between his person and the other Fable in the room. Roughened fingers gently - the only time he was gentle really - wrapped around their shoulder, thumb rubbing small circles into the meat of their shoulder which earned him a small moan from their sleep. He would be lying if he didn’t feel slightly bad for waking them up, but it was only slightly.

He didn’t feel this with anyone before. He didn’t feel this with Snow.

He didn’t feel safe, he didn’t feel loved. He felt like he was being used if anything when it came to how Snow was with him.

But you; you actually cared. You were one of the few Fables who didn’t actively give him trouble or berate him or treat him like dirt. You didn’t judge him on his past, you didn’t poke and prod.

You twisted around too, the sheets now off, both of you finding it too warm in the room for them to be on the bed. Your eyes had peeked open just a bit, just enough for him to see the color of your irises through your fluttering eyelids as you blinked away the sleep and dreams.

He remembered when he first saw you for the first time since coming here. He had come to your apartment with questions about an unruly neighbor causing issues, and you had even invited him in for coffee.

He remembered when you two first kissed in the darkened hallway right outside of your apartment door, the neon lights from outside filtering in. You two had gone out to some bar to hang out and he had wanted to walk you back to your front door.

He remembered when you two first made love in your apartment, the aftermath was worse for you than him. The markings on your body were hard to hide and explain, and he enjoyed every second of it.

“Morning,” you purred, your voice still dripping with the clingings of sleep and exhaustion you attempted to shake off.

“Morning,” he echoed back.

His voice was still scratchy, dark and gravely. His eyes lingered down to your neck. There were red blotches on your throat, but his eyes mostly trained on the bite mark settled at the crook of your neck. Sure there were more marks all down the rest of your body but that was his favorite he left on you.

“Proud of your little art show?” you huffed sarcastically as you rubbed at the still sore bite mark. Bigby only growled softly, the wolfman snaked his hand down to your waist and dragged you in closer to him. He could feel the heat radiating off of his body bouncing off of you, no wonder why there was no need for the sheets if he was around. The corners of your lips curled into a slight smirk, Bigby could see it reflect in your eyes. His puppy brown eyes had tinged to a bright gold, his pupils had dilated to the size of near-pinpoints. He felt you shiver with lust under his grip. “My my, Mr. Wolf, how big your eyes are.”

Bigby jolted and had pinned you to your bed all of a sudden. His big hands and wrapped around your wrists and pinned them to the sides of your head while he straddled you by your waist. Your eyes were full of lust, he could smell it dripping off of you, it was all over in the air that he swore he could lick it. He leaned down, his grit teeth now a mouth full of sharpened teeth barely brushed over your sensitive neck.

“And how do you plan on explaining these?”

Before you could coyly ask him to elaborate, Bigby clamped his fangs down on the opposite shoulder, yanking out a pleasureful cry from you.

Bigby sat at the small kitchen table, carefully sipping scorching hot coffee as he eyed the news playing on the small tv on the kitchen counter. It was some mundy bullshit happening that weekend, some festival, Bigby didn’t really pay attention to that kind of crap. He just needed the background noise as he glanced back down at the file on the tabletop.

He was suddenly interrupted by a plate full of various breakfast foods being placed on top of the police file he was just looking at, everything still steaming with warmth and love.

“Police work can wait,” you hummed, handing him a knife and fork, “you need to eat.”

Bigby playfully rolled his eyes and took another sip of his coffee. You had turned back to the stove, allowing Bigby to catch a glimpse of you.

You were wearing one of his white button-ups unbuttoned with nothing else but socks and underwear on.

As Bigby took a big bite of food, he couldn’t help but close his eyes and just sit there.

In utter, unspoken delight, he knew he was safe and loved and happy.

And home.

[hd-erised]

This is it, our final @hd-erised round-up! We sincerely hope you've thoroughly enjoyed this amazing round of the fest. 

Our Anonymous Masterlist will post tomorrow, Jan 2nd, and some fun Fest Stats will go up on Jan 3rd. And, of course, Reveals will happen on Sunday, Jan 5th.

For now though, please review this round-up of our final week, and don't forget to check our Week 1, Week 2, & Week 3 round-ups for any of our previous submissions you might have missed! 

H/D Erised posting may be over but there's still time to leave some love for our amazing writers and artists that make this fest possible. Thank you!

Art:

Stolen Glances for @dodgerkedavra [T]

Hauntingly Familiar for @moonflower-rose [T]

Fic:

My Mate for veradubhghoill [E, ~26,300]

Harry is a new Alpha and Draco is his Omega Healer. Draco wants to help Harry but Draco struggles to control himself whenever he is around. And Harry wants to breed Draco. Desperately so. Things come to a head when Draco and Harry become trapped with one another. Draco doesn't have his suppressant and it sends them both into heat. While they wait for help, will Draco be able to avoid being claimed by Harry? Does he even want to avoid it? Harry is gorgeous and strong, and Draco would love to have him as a mate. He just can't fathom a world where Harry Potter willingly chooses him.

Just a little liquid luck for @shiftylinguini [E, ~5,400]

Tracking the movement of Potter’s eyes, Draco runs a greasy finger over the thickest of his scars. “You like them, don’t you? Pervert.” Potter tosses his head back, jostling the mass of his curly fringe from his forehead. “I bet you were into scars long before you had any of your own, Malfoy.” Yes, Draco wants to say. I want to lick yours. What he says instead is, “Fuck you.” “Fuck you,” Potter echoes, putting the same pregnant emphasis on the F. Draco bites his lower lip, wrestling down the rise of euphoria. “Your turn,” he says. “Take that off.”

As Luck Would Have It for @smehur [E, ~12,800]

In Sixth-Year, Harry and Draco both win a vial of Felix Felicis from Slughorn and, under its influence, have sex in the Room of Requirement. In the aftermath, can Draco and Harry navigate their respective roles in the war, while grappling with their burgeoning feelings for each other?

In a Year's Turning for @maraudersaffair [E, ~89,400]

It’s been nine years. Surely, Harry can handle Draco being back—for Teddy’s sake.

Storm's Eye for @jtimu [M, ~12,400]

Harry's surprised that Draco didn't have wards up preventing mortally wounded former school mates-turned-ghosted work fellows from bursting into his house. In Harry's addled mind, this seems like a great opening line to say to Draco's gobsmacked face. He doesn't get that far, though.

housewarming for @garagepaperback [E, ~6,000]

First, they had to decide where to live. It worked, until it didn’t.

Go Up to Gilead for @tessacrowley [E, ~106,700]

Harry Potter’s sense of purpose drops dead with Voldemort. So does Draco Malfoy’s freedom. Nine years later, Harry’s still a soldier. Draco’s still a sacrifice. Harry’s going to die in his Auror uniform, and Draco doesn’t deserve to live. But when the clock runs out on Draco’s sentence, a new one starts ticking. As it was, so it will be: they’ll survive together, or not at all.

do you (one) better for @legendrarry [M, ~4,200]

Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor Harry Potter abruptly loses his Favourite Hogwarts Professor title to none other than Potions Professor Draco Malfoy. He swears it’s fine, really, but the feelings boiling within him say otherwise. Until Poppy Longbottom, Pansy and Neville’s hellion daughter, forces Hogwarts faculty and staff to engage in a very controversial Pureblood family tradition.

Of Stolen Glass and Burning Clover for @saintgarbanzo [E, ~27,800]

A week long international conference. A political scandal? A Malfoy beside the fruit tarts.

Baker's Modern Wands for @starquestingfordrarry [E, ~43,600]

At Baker's Modern Wands Lavender Brown is starting a revolution, Draco Malfoy is trying his best, and Harry Potter is really annoyed about it all.

Kiss Me, Fuck Me, Love Me for @doingthechachaslide [E, ~5,100]

Harry and Draco are running very late—they’ve got shirts to find, puppies to save, and champagne to buy. They’re also terribly, ridiculously, extraordinarily in love.

Equally Cursed and Blessed for @thecouchsofa [E, ~18,200]

Harry's back at Hogwarts to attempt his final year, again. This time he's sure there'll be no shenanigans. Well. Maybe there'll be a few.

[starsstuddedsky]

Slice of Love

Haechan x reader

summary: birthday cake and boyfriend material

genre: fluff, non idol au, not really angst but haechan is so dramatic

warnings: swearing, food/dessert, i dont know anything about art, pls lmk if i missed any

wc: 1.8k (who is she???)

a/n: finally wrote something short and sweet :) it's been so long since i've done that lol. this is heavily inspired by 7dream cafe cake-making and my full belief that none of these boys should be unsupervised in the kitchen. thank you to @chocolatemilk139 for being my beta as always <3 (even though you didnt edit anything smh)

It’s not horrendous.

Donghyuck stares at the cake in front of him. The process started well: he made the tester cake last week week that the council (also known as his friends) approved with generous support (“wait, what’s actually kind of good,” from Jeno, “it’s edible,” from Renjun, “the hint of orange really sells it,” from Jaemin, “it’s not burnt so it’s already better than anything I could make,” from Mark, “you didn’t buy this?” from Chenle, and Jisung, who just stared at him with wide eyes). 

No, the problem isn’t the batter. He slaved over it all last night and chose the two cakes that rose most evenly in the oven. Everything but his tears went into making them. 

“Wow,” Renjun says, leaning over the counter. “You fucked up.” 

Donghyuck smacks him, leaving a trail of lavender buttercream on the wool sweater. 

“Hey, that’s going to be a bitch to get out!” Renjun cries. 

“Cry me a river,” Donghyuck says, “which is a good song, but also, you deserve it. It’s not that bad.” 

Renjun raises his eyebrows but Donghyuck raises a spoonful of extra frosting. Renjun backs off. 

Despite his strong defense, Donghyuck fears Renjun may be right. Though the cake stands tall, crumbs mix in with the frosting on the sides. What was supposed to be an artistically plump edging around the base of the cake and around the top corner looks like it exploded out of the piping bag (because it did, popping the cap off several times). In his head, the center would be filled with flowers and hearts and all sorts of pretty shapes in all sorts of pastel colors—but by the time he got to the center, he’d fully given up on piping bags, meaning he had to get creative for the flowers. Instead of flowers, he made blobs of frosting pushed off a spoon. In some spots he accidentally mixed the colors together, a green one shade away from brown, not at all like the field in the pictures on his Pinterest board. 

Jeno appears next, wandering out of his room. He misses Renjun’s warning glare, though Donghyuck doesn’t. He steps right next to Donghyuck, tilting his head. “What is this supposed to be again?” 

“What do you think?” Donghyuck asks evenly. 

Oblivious or uncaring, Jeno pauses to ponder. “A really ugly version of Shrek’s swamp?” 

“Get out.” 

“Get out of ma’ swamp!” Jeno attempts a Scottish accent, authenticity as questionable as the flower field in Donghyuck’s cake. Jeno retreats with Renjun on the couch, dodging Donghyuck’s frosting spoon. It would be a waste of the delicacy on his stupid dri-fit t-shirt, which he wears even when he doesn’t work out. 

“It’ll be fine,” Jaemin says. “It’ll taste good, which is the important part.” He sits at the counter, the only one to offer moral support while Donghyuck decorated. But his attempts at comfort are in vain; Donghyuck doesn’t just want the cake to taste good, he wants it to taste perfect, to look perfect, for all of it to be perfect. It’s the least you deserve. 

Donghyuck ignores the banging on his door, letting one of the guys let Chenle and Jisung in (no one else would threaten to break down a metal door instead of waiting the five seconds it takes to unlock the door). 

“We come bearing food!” Chenle shouts, plastic bag singing in his hand as Jisung follows precariously carrying a stack of pizza boxes. Far more food than needed, but Donghyuck won’t skimp out on you. Chenle tosses his bag full of snacks on the table, crossing the room to see the ‘masterpiece’ Donghyuck spent the past week hyping up. 

“Dude, are you seriously going to give that to YN?” 

“Are you trying to get dumped?” Jisung asks. “Ow!” he cries when Chenle smacks him. 

“Your welcome,” he says, “though he sort of has a point, that looks like literal shit.” 

“Does it really?” Donghyuck pouts. 

Chenle points at one of the browner spots. “You’re telling me that’s not a piece of shit?” 

“They were supposed to be flowers.” 

Jaemin, Renjun, and Jisung manage to cover their laughs as coughs but Chenle and Jeno let out a bark of laughter. 

“Yeah, you’re screwed,” Chenle says, clapping him on his shoulder that sags even lower than his normal bad posture. “You could call Mark and get him to pick up a cake on his way.” 

“He’s bringing YN,” Donghyuck says glumly. “Besides, I already told YN that I would make it myself. I’m not going to be a failure and a liar.” 

“It’s really not that bad,” Jaemin says, ignoring the chorus of dissent from the rest of the guys. “It’ll taste good!” 

Donghyuck shrugs. He can’t explain it, at least not so that they can understand him. He knows perfection is a subjective definition that he’ll never be able to fulfill but he strives for it anyway. If it isn’t perfect then why would he do it at all? Even if it’s his first time attempting this level of artwork, he should at least be able to make something that looks okay, or recognizable. 

And you—you deserve more than a dry store-bought mess and more than a half-assed attempt at love. You’ve only been together for a couple months but he’s determined to prove himself. A birthday was the perfect opportunity, even when you’ve known him for years and spent plenty of birthdays with him. This was his chance to show you the boyfriend material he’s made of, except instead of black velvet or creamy silk, Donghyuck thinks this cake is the work of a neon yellow polyester shirt worth less than $2 at the thrift store. 

“Mark just texted that he just parked,” Jaemin announces. He glances at Donghyuck. “You ready?” 

Donghyuck glances at himself. His hands are covered in frosting that’s dried and crusted, spread up his arms. His Kiss the Chef apron protected his shirt and most of his pants from the damage, but the mess is the least of his concerns. There’s nothing he can do about the disaster (he’s given up calling it anything else) in front of him. Shrek’s Swamp or a toilet bowl, it’s definitely not a flower field and it’s definitely not what you deserve. But it’s all he’s got. 

The final punch hits with a gentle knock at the door. Donghyuck crosses the room to his doom, stepping past his silent friends who bow their heads in respect for the walking dead. He pulls open the door slowly. He sees your shoes first, white sneakers you spent three hours with a Sharpie decorating, full of hearts and stars and unmistakable flowers—daisies and chrysanthemums and lavender, more than he can name. 

You wear your favorite jeans, loose bootcut that tighten at the thighs, hugging you in all the right places. A loose shirt hangs from your shoulders, one of the bands you always play for him with lots of bass and visceral lyrics that romanticize suffering. A family of silver earrings dangle from your ears, and he recognizes each of your favorites, the miniature swords, sparkling star shaped studs, a curly twist of metal that wraps around the higher part of ear. You look perfect. 

Donghyuck has always loved the way you smile, a gentle turn of your lips, like the happiness belongs to only you. You lean forward, pressing a short kiss to his lips, a peck more than anything. Donghyuck stares at you, eyes wide. You gesture to his apron. “Just following the rules.” 

He smiles though it fades as soon as he sees the frosting–no, the evidence of his failures, spread down the black fabric. “Happy birthday,” he says, wishing he could put more heart into it. A tiny frown furrows in your brow but you don’t question him. 

He steps back to let you walk in, trailing behind you as the rest of the guys wish you happy birthday. Mark catches up easily, clapping a hand on his shoulder, whispering, “Jeno sent me a picture.” 

Renjun hugs you, which Donghyuck belatedly realizes he never did. 

“I brought the food,” Chenle announces. “Don’t go thanking anyone else for my efforts.” 

“Our,” Jisung corrects. “You barely even carried anything.” 

“That’s because I had to drive,” Chenle says, waving his hand. “And don’t even get me started on the pizzeria, you better appreciate every molecule because—”

“Thank you, Chenle,” you say. 

“Thank me,” Donghyuck says. “It was my detailed instructions that perfected absolutely everything about today, which reminds me, did Mark behave?” 

You turn back to face him, linking your fingers with his. “Yes, babe, he followed your script. He almost cried because the barista messed up the order and he didn’t want to be annoying but he said you said ‘if anything goes wrong, I’ll kill you,’ and meant it.” 

“And I did,” Donghyuck says. He nods at his best friend for his service. 

“Now.” You squeeze his fingertips. “Where’s this cake you’ve been so excited about.” 

Donghyuck doesn’t try to hide his face. There’s no use delaying the inevitable. He lets go of your hands, leading you to the crime scene to lay the final verdict (the judicial system of his brain is in need of some reformation). 

You reach the counter and freeze. A list of concert dates greets Donghyuck, your back facing him while you study the cake. There’s no name for the opposite of a masterpiece, no artist that wants their worst creation recorded in history. 

He inches closer to you, peeking at your face. He recognizes the expression, the narrowing of your eyes, the way you flatten your lips. He’s been to enough art shows and spent enough time with you studying for art history to know what you analyze art. 

“It’s not Van Gogh or Monet,” he says, “it’s not even that asshole guy who made the Bean.” 

“Mm,” you hum, “no, you’re not any of them.” 

“It’s an ugly cake,” he says, “I know. I tried, I really did, but apparently you actually do need a decade or two of experience to make a decent cake, which is totally unfair, like, I spent more time on it than my research project, and this only looks marginally better than that.” 

“It’s amazing,” you say, “reminiscent of the expressionist era.” 

“Really?” 

“No,” you say, turning to grin at him. “But you made it, so none of that matters. Maybe it doesn’t look like what you thought, but seriously.”  You rest a hand on his arm. “It’s perfect.” 

He meets your eyes, sees sincerity and not an ounce of teasing. No, it wasn’t what he wanted for you, but that doesn’t really matter. Perfection is subjective and to you it’s perfect—why did he ever think it wouldn’t be? 

He grins. “Perfect?” 

You step closer to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him into a hug, ignoring the frosting that must be smearing across the band member’s faces. 

“Perfect.” 

a/n2: thank you for reading! as always, i appreciate any feedback :)

[ashboilol]

The Marauders: Bullies who sexually assaulted a person. Basically Draco Malfoy and his cronies who were shown the Light.

Fandom: Such feminists, I love them!

Draco: Human equivalent of garbage who bullied anyone with lower social status, and mocked an orphan. Also gladly joined the DE.

Fandom: So tragic! He had no choice, we love him! He deserved better.

Dursleys: Gross, shallow human beings who abused the orphan they were in charge of, and even starved that child (and only because Vernon's promotion was cancelled).

Fandom: They have a reasonable hatred, and Petunia is sympathetic!

Dudley Dursley: Actually apologizes for his behavior and abuse, unlike oh-so-great James Potter.

Fandom: Bad!

Ron Weasley: Brave kid who has commited countless selfless acts and protects his friends.

Fandom: Bad! Hermione deserved better! Wife beater! Predator! Hermione should have cheated on him with Harry!

Severus Snape: Also does brave, selfless acts, and is known by HIS ENEMY'S SON as the bravest man Harry ever knew. Proves he really loves Lily.

Fandom: Bad! He was obsessed with Lily and a creep and he stole Lily's patronus! He also bullied Neville!

Lavender Brown: Nice and caring, and gives Ron the affection he deserves. Also does countless brave acts, helps to round up Skrewts, and fights in the DA despite the danger.

Fandom: She should go, she is ruining our ships!1!1!1! (Side note: I do ship Romione, but this anti-Lavender bullshit should stop.)

Cho Chang: Cares about and loves her boyfriend, and simply wants to know how he died because she loves him. Also offers to take Harry to the Ravenclaw common room, and fights in the DA.

Fandom: So annoying, can't she stop crying about Cedric?

[prythiansfavoritefox]

[ COMFORT ] 🪷 Elain 🪷

Lucien could not take it anymore. Bottling up all of his problems inside was killing him. He hated himself, he hated his life, he hated his fucking job. He hated that no matter what he did, Tamlin seemed to be so far out of his reach. The last time they'd spoken, Tamlin had given him a black eye. Cauldron boil him, he'd tried not to retaliate, but...something in him had just snapped. Everything that had happened to him over the past several months had just spilled over, and he'd set a driving punch straight into Tamlin's abdomen. Then he tunneled so deep down into that rage that he hadn't even noticed his fire swirling around him as he absolutely pummeled Tamlin. He had burned most of Tamlin's clothes off, and little burn marks peppered his skin. His own clothes, woven with magic fire-resistant cloth from Autumn, remained intact.

Lucien had known that whatever progress he might have made with Tamlin was undone the moment he had punched back. So frustrating-so unbelievably frustrating to have to deal with a broken High Lord and his court, yet no one cared. Feyre hadn't even asked about his eye. Not like Lucien had offered the information; he didn't trust Feyre or the Inner Circle as far as he could throw them. With information, he had no choice. But his feelings? He could keep them to himself and spare himself the hurt.

When he was in his small house in Velaris safely in bed, he let himself cry. Why had his life come to this? What had he done in a previous life to deserve this? Who was he kidding, playing emissary to the Night Court? He didn't belong here any more than he belonged in Spring. Gods, he missed Autumn. He didn't think that was something he'd ever say, but at least Beron had mostly left him alone. He was free to pursue his education, free to make friends amongst the gentry, free to practice his sword and read books and whatever else he was interested in. He loved being busy and visiting other courts, but considering a big part of his work was babysitting a miserable man who had in the latter stages of their relationship become abusive towards him, it was safe to say he'd much rather being doing anything else.

Sigh. He could probably do a ten times better job of ruling than any of these fools, but alas, he was stuck in this weak role of emissary, disrespected by all who associated with him. Not even his mate cared for him.

By the Cauldron, he missed Jesminda. The only person who had ever cared for him, chosen him.

At some point while crying, he fell asleep. Something tugged in his gut, and he found himself watching himself sitting beside a pond, bare feet dipped in the water, and next to him sat a stunningly beautiful brunette. Elain. His Elain. His mate who did not want him-

Lucien, she whispered quietly. This is just a dream, Lucien told himself, but it did not feel that way. No, that tug on his gut was very real.

She was wearing a long ruffled lavender dress with a pretty straw hat on her head. She held a matching basket, but when Lucien looked inside, there were only worms. Lucien jumped back.

"The Night Court gardens' soil is very poor, so I bred some ground worms to help replenish the nutrients," Elain said matter-of-factly, like she hadn't just said the most shocking thing ever. Lucien gaped at her. "You actually bred...?"

"Yes!" Elain said brightly. Then she gently put a hand on his shoulder, her big eyes full of concern. "You seem upset. Is there something wrong?"

Lucien snorted, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest. "As if you care if something is wrong."

"Of course I care," Elain said insistently. "You are my mate."

"Do not condescend to me," Lucien replied sharply. "I know such things mean nothing to humans."

"But I am no human anymore," Elain said, trying to reach for Lucien's body again. He pulled away again, and he almost regret it looking at the hurt that formed in her doe-brown eyes. But she avoided him like the plague in daylight; was he wrong to return the favor?

"But you still adhere to the human culture and rules," Lucien pointed out.

"It doesn't matter what I adhere to!" Elain shouted exasperatedly. "It doesn't matter how much I tell myself the mating bond means nothing, when I cannot breathe every time you are near. It doesn't matter how much I resent it, how much I feel is the bond and how much is me, when all I can think of when you are close to me are thoughts improper for a lady."

Lucien blinked, heat creeping up in his face as he recalled the absolutely filthy thoughts in her mind as he'd tugged on the bond that one afternoon.

"Fine," Lucien muttered. "It was Tamlin. He's being grumpy and uncooperative. I know he's hurting, but goddamnit, he has hurt me. And Spring has to be up and running soon, else the land is ripe for the taking."

Elain tilted her head curiously. "Is that really all?" Lucien sighed, shaking his head. "No, that was just a culmination of all my frustrations thus far."

"I thought so," Elain answered quietly. "You bottle up your feelings when you are hurt. Throw yourself into your tasks instead rather than wallow about it or engage in self-destructive behavior."

Lucien blinked at her in surprise. "You have been watching me."

"Of course I've been watching you," Elain said as if it were obvious. "How could I not? But also...I understand. You and I are the same in that right, I suppose."

Lucien didn't know what possessed him to do such a thing, but he crawled forward and laid his head on Elain's lap. She looked down at him and smiled serenely, stroking his hair, his cheek, his chin. Then she bent down and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"Rest darling," Elain said sweetly. "No one can hurt you here." She continued to stroke him gently as his eyes drifted off, and the rest of his sleep was deep and pleasant.

[elliebyrrdwrites]

Do I typically do Ron bashing? No.

Does this qualify as Ron bashing? I don’t know.

Dramione Drabble 9

The first time Ron figured out that he had a praise kink was when he went down on Lavender brown in a broom closet on the second floor corridor.

She ha called him a good boy. Had promised him anything he wanted of he kept going. And so he did, until he felt her cum in his mouth. And when he bent her over mop bucket and fucked her from behind, she kept calling him her good little Won Won. She praised the size of his cock, the feel of his hands on her.

He didn’t realized he had missed it until she died.

He never told Hermione about his praise kink. He had sort of just hoped that it would happen with them on its own. But it didn’t.

She was sweet in bed, but she didn’t ever compliment the size of his cock or call him a good boy.

As a matter of fact, outside of the bedroom, Hermione complimented very little. She didn’t hand out compliments or praises to anyone, not even Harry. And everyone complimented Harry.

But, Hermione complimented Malfoy.

She praised the way he did his job, or his knowledge on books. Once, she complimented the complexion of his skin. What was it about Draco Malfoy that brought out such out of character behavior from her? Didn’t Ron deserve some praise? Didn’t he make her feel good?

“Is that what you like, Ron?” a soft, sultry voice asked him, later that evening.

Ron looked up from his pint of beer, and into the dark, almond shaped eyes of Parvati Patil.

Seamus had left an hour earlier, leaving the two of them alone at a corner table of the pub.

She leaned into him, her silky black hair falling forward and tickling his arm. “You want me to tell you what a king you are as you eat my cunt?” Her breath was warm against his ear.

His cock twitched, quickly hardening at the sound of her proposition, the admiring tone of her voice as she said words like king and cunt.

Licking his lips, he looked down at her hand, stroking taunting lines into his bicep, promising everything Hermione couldn’t — wouldn’t — give him. “Is that what you want?” He asked, roughly, already shifting in his seat.

She nodded. “Lavender used to go on and on about that tongue of yours. Always made me jealous.” She sighed and Ron caught sight of her clenching her thighs together. Lavender’s praises always made him feel good. Even posthumously.

That was half a year ago and only two weeks after he had proposed to Hermione. It was the also the time Ron cheated on her.

Seeking what she couldn’t give him, the way he wanted it. From a woman who would, a woman who loathed something about herself. Maybe it was survivors guilt. But, with Ron, she felt better. She smiled and laughed and praised him.

When Hermione almost died, Ron had panicked. He had been a terrible fiancé, while Malfoy had been there to save her. He refused to leave her side until she woke up. Once again proving that he was a better partner than Ron.

So, while Hermione lay unresponsive in St. Mungos, Ron had called things off with Parvati.

He had been determined to make things with Hermione work out. And he knew that if Malfoy was out of the picture, then things would be fine. Perfect, actually.

But she had woken up different. And it wasn’t just the eerie color of her eyes. Sure, they made him uncomfortable, but he knew he could move past that.

What bothered him more was the fact that she felt different. Ron couldn’t put his finger on what, exactly, had changed about her. He just knew it was there, and it left him uneasy when he was around her.

He did love her, he meant what he said tonight. But she was looking at him like he had let her down. Again.

And so when he found himself standing outside the door to Parvati’s flat, he told himself that it was going to be the last time. Even as she pulled him into her living room and threw him onto the couch, he swore that, after tonight, he would never cheat on Hermione again.

But there was a voice, in the back of his head, as Parvati rode his cock and called her his king, that told him he was a liar. That he could not make Hermione happy. Not now, not ever.

But he’d be damned if he let Draco Malfoy be the one to do it.

[someonelol1872]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆𝐈𝐬𝐚𝐚𝐜, "𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞"⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝕯𝖆𝖞𝖘 𝖘𝖊𝖊𝖒 𝖘𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖘 𝖆𝖘 𝖎𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖞'𝖑𝖑 𝖓𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗 𝖊𝖓𝖉, 𝕾𝖚𝖓 𝖉𝖎𝖌𝖘 𝖎𝖙𝖘 𝖍𝖊𝖊𝖑𝖘 𝖙𝖔 𝖙𝖆𝖚𝖓𝖙 𝖞𝖔𝖚, 𝕭𝖚𝖙 𝖆𝖋𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖘𝖚𝖓𝖑𝖎𝖙 𝖉𝖆𝖞𝖘, 𝖔𝖓𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖞𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖆𝖒𝖊, 𝕽𝖎𝖘𝖊𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖔𝖔𝖓 -Rises the Moon, Liana Flores

Isaac had been working tirelessly for days, his office a refuge of relentless dedication. His ebony hair was disheveled, and the dark circles under his deep brown eyes were a stark testament to his exhaustion. His normally sharp features looked gaunt and pale, with worry lines etched deeply into his forehead. Today, his body had finally given in to exhaustion and illness. You noticed the change immediately as you entered the room, your heart aching to see him in such a state.

"Isaac, you need to rest," you said softly, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. The warmth of your touch was a stark contrast to the cold rigidity of his posture.

He shook his head, barely glancing up from his work. "I can't, Pickle. There's too much to do," he murmured, his voice strained.

Your concern deepened. You carefully pulled the papers from his hands, feeling the tension in his muscles as he reluctantly let go. "You won't be able to do anything if you don't take care of yourself," you chided gently, but with a firmness that left no room for argument.

Isaac, too weak to resist, allowed you to lead him. Each step felt like a monumental effort, his legs heavy and unsteady. You guided him to his bedroom of dark wood and soft, warm colors, the faint scent of lavender lingering in the air. You tucked him into his bed, pulling the thick, quilted covers up to his chin. The warmth of the blankets enveloped him, a stark contrast to the chill that had settled into his bones. He closed his eyes, already feeling a bit better under your care.

You hurried to the kitchen, determined to make him something nourishing. The kitchen was cozy and quiet, filled with the soft morning light filtering through the windows. You prepared his favorite gyoza, your hands deftly folding the dumplings with care. The soup simmered on the stove, a fragrant blend of chicken broth, ginger, scallions, garlic, and soy sauce filled the house, bringing a small smile to Isaac's lips even from the bedroom. You poured the steaming miso soup into a bowl, adding a dose of medicine to help with his fever.

Returning to his side with a tray, you sat on the edge of the bed. "Here, Isaac. You need to eat something," you said softly, offering him a piece of gyoza.

Isaac tried to protest, feeling too weak and embarrassed to be taken care of like this. "P-Pickle, you don't have to do all this," he murmured, his voice hoarse and his brown eyes glazed with fever.

But your gentle persistence won out. You fed him by hand, your touch tender and loving. "One more bite? For me?" you coaxed with a smile, your eyes full of concern and affection.

Reluctantly, Isaac opened his mouth for another bite, the warmth of the food bringing some color back to his cheeks. Despite his initial embarrassment, he found comfort in your presence, in the way you cared for him so devotedly. "Thank you," he whispered, feeling a swell of gratitude and affection for you.

After finishing the meal, you set the tray aside and sat beside him, stroking his hair with a soothing rhythm. Your touch was gentle, fingers threading through his ebony locks. "Just rest now," you whispered, your voice a balm to his weary soul. You leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead, your lips cool yet soft against his fevered skin.

Isaac's eyes grew heavy, lulled by your tender care and the warmth of your touch. "You're too good to me," he mumbled, a faint smile on his lips as he looked at you through half-closed eyes.

You smiled back, your fingers continuing their soothing motion through his hair. "You deserve it, Isaac. Now sleep," you said softly, your voice filled with love and reassurance.

As he drifted off to sleep, Isaac felt a profound sense of peace and contentment. In your care, he felt safe, cherished, and deeply loved. He realized how much he depended on you, not just for moments like these, but for the happiness and light you brought into his life. As he slipped into slumber, he knew he would do anything to keep you by his side. ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈