#+ as he ran past a boutique

[dailyedvinryding]

Edvin being interviewed at Guldbaggengala 2025

Translation: Edvin talks about his outfit and is challenged to answer the question what he's wearing as his character Prince Wilhelm. He's wearing a suit from a Swedish brand, Oscar Jacobsson, and it feels very nice to be there, it's fantastic, thank you!

via Damernas Värld

[evilgwrl]

TF 141 x Reader (Apocalypse!AU)

Immune: Nine

WARNING: This is a 18+ Poly!141 series (MDNI)

CW: Attempted suicide, unknown watching as someone gets changed, SIMON BEING THE CUTEST MAN ALIVE, kissing and bum spanking

Taglist: @beebeechaos @h3art3at3rr @johannxseb @cndy-l0v3 @nylluns @pomegranategum @tapioca-marzipan

ANYTHING IN ITALICS IS A FLASHBACK

Masterlist

The summer air was a broil of wet leaves and burnt tar, roads simmering with clouded fogs of steam that snipped at the exposed flesh of your leg. Your bike was worn, tyres nearly flat from the consistent rummaging of scarred rocks tearing the innocent rubber into a battered mess.

Your legs were inflamed from the constant use, thighs straining against bones and weathered skin. Sweat stuck to you in a damp layer, the occasional fly suckling at the salty residue. There was a gentle strum of moans, ripped jaws sloshing against rotten teeth, skin a ghastly contrast against the greenery. They didn’t care for you, walking past you like you were one of them.

It was a sick punishment.

You thought back to the first couple of days after. After Vienna. Steel supported rough fingers, muzzle pointed under your chin, the chill of cold tickling down your throat, trapping your oesophagus with an arrogant choke. Nimble fingers unclicked the safety, a line of tears streaming down your face pathetically.

You didn’t do it. You weren’t sure which was weaker, staying or leaving.

Blood ran through your chest, beating down to the tips of your wrists, eyes gauging through the flesh as if you had x-ray vision. You would no doubt be scorned with blisters later, the sun kissing you with fat welts filled with liquid medicine as you rolled in used sheets, unable to sleep.

You stared down the winding road, a companion of butchered shops lined up by the corner, untouched. It wasn’t rare for you to venture far, always taking a main road that would eventually lead you home.

You pushed through glass doors, majority of the crystal shattered across the concrete. There was a gentle ding of a bell as you entered, a lone zombie trailing towards the noise, disappointed at the sudden disappearance of its senses as you smashed a blade into the centre of its head, the stench of death filling the shop as you gagged. You weren’t sure you would ever get used to the smell.

The store was disappointing at the front, but you knew the stock room held liquid gold. Your knees skidded over the counter, a till smashed across the floor as you laughed. You wriggled the STAFF ONLY door, your shoulders working to barge it open. There were unopened boxes of candy that caught your attention, sticky tape quickly stuck to the wall as you delved through, a child-like innocence adorning your face as you tore apart a chocolate wrapper.

A sick moan of satisfaction ran through you as you stuffed more bars in your bag, teeth rotting with gooey caramel. Your feet padded against the floor, achy limbs begging for a rest as you sat down on a bench, uncomfortable wood barely supporting you. You scoffed back an apple, a small container full of buttered bread soon resting in your stomach.

You groaned as you chugged the majority of your water, the liquid quenching the Sahara in your throat as it stained your chest, a light dribble working down your chin as you sighed. Eyes stared at the bike resting against a brick wall as you looked up, noticing the flock of birds make their way through the sky, gradual darkness soon blending into the baby blue.

Dirtied nails scraped against the glass of your final destination, a small boutique with a flickering sign greeting you with the smell of dust as you pushed the door open. Nimble fingers worked your sweaty top off as you tried clothes on, wiping the grotty mirror down with an ugly rag of a shirt.

Dark eyes watched you from a rooftop, covered face twisting into a scowl as he watched you prod at yourself in the mirror. Your flesh was greasy, a sweet shine covering your muscles as he fixated on the way you moved. He stared at you through the lens of a sniper before placing it next to him as you walked out, bag round with clothes and the minimal amount of food you could find.

You didn’t notice him, his body stealthy as he adjusted, eyes immersed in you as you rode off. They would head your way tomorrow, he decided.

Thick hands ploughed at the wood; an axe gripped between his fingers as you watched him intensely. Your eyes gawked at his biceps, chiselled muscles bulging under the sun, a glisten against his skin from his work.

“That enough?” His voice was thick, a mixture of molten and sweet honey lacing him. His aura was earthy and masculine, his need to prove himself to you evident as he looked to you for approval.

“Good enough for me,” you replied, attempting to grab a log of wood before he barked that he would do it, snatching it from your grip.

Your eyebrows twisted up in annoyance as you crossed your arms over your chest. “I’m not useless, I was the one doing this before you all came along.”

“Didn’t mean to offend you, sweet’art, just don’t want you to hurt yourself again.”

It was impressive watching him work; his forearms stuffed full of wood as he placed it in the small collector next to the fireplace. This was your first time being alone with him, his large frame was intimidating at first, but his shitty dad jokes couldn’t help but pull a smile from you.

You pulled him into the barn, introducing him to your cows, Daisy and Ted. He wasn’t fond of the names, but he felt himself nodding, watching the way you greeted them like they could speak, eyes full of admiration at the way you handled yourself.

“I’m hoping she gets pregnant, she’s my lifesaver,” you cooed, swatting the cow gently against her rump as she huffed out a breath. Simon raised a brow at you, a cocky smirk against his face.

“Don’t think about it,” you scowled as he turned around. Quick hands swatted at his ass as he grunted. Ghost was trained for anything, his hands at your waist as you squealed, quickly thrown over his shoulder with a huff before you were dropped in a bale of hay, endless giggles wracking through your chest as he peered down at you with a grumpy look.

You noticed his eyes crinkle as your laughter slowly subsided, both of you staring at each other with an amused look. His hands stilled at your waist, gripping them slightly with a warming touch.

“What’s your real name?”

He paused for a moment, thumb rubbing at your rising tummy, a pool of butterflies sinking into every crevice of the muscle. “Simon.”

You repeated it several times back to him, enjoying the way it fell from your lips as battered eyes focused on them, watching the way your tongue wriggled in the heat of your mouth as you spoke.

“You like it?” He asked, voice lower with nerves. He wasn’t sure why he was nervous. But he was.

You nodded at him, glancing from his eyes down to his mouth. Your fingers wrapped around his wrist, bringing his hand to your cheek as your mouth opened slightly, eyes never leaving his. He paused, ready to turn away from you.

He didn’t.

Instead, he leaned in, pushing the mask down his chin in a rough manner before he kissed you, his tongue swiping against your bottom lip before easing it into your throat. He was strangely gentle, almost like he was scared to hurt you. The Lieutenant’s hands gripped your face as you pulled him in by the scruff of his neck, deepening the motion. 

His eyes were voids of burnt sugar, a hinge of toffee speckling through as they merged into his iris. He was warm and inviting, the slight tang of his saliva running through your taste buds as he welcomed the sensation of you, a hand dropping to your throat with a delicate squeeze. 

Simon pulled away with a slight gasp, catching the breath he wasn’t sure he was holding.

“I don’t want to rush you.”

You only smiled and brought him back in.

[obsessedhoneycomb]

Love me like you do

George Russell x fem!reader

Summary: The well known business boss George Russell is on his hunt to find himself a wife. After spotting you, he’s sure that you’re the one, but you’re a little challenge.

Warnings: 18+, smut, cursing words, enemies to lovers, love, fluff, pregnancy

Word count: 5k

A/N: I was working on this idea for the past two weeks, I had so much fun writing it. At first it was supposed to be mafia themed, but I gave up on that, giving it more business-powerful vibe. Enjoy it! :)

///

Sitting in your small apartment, you were watching the news on the TV. There he was, the man who ran the dirty business in the city, George Russell. He was no stranger to you, everybody was talking about him in the law firm you were working at as an associate.

“Russell… Again.” In between eating your pizza, you hummed in displease, you really hated the man. He looked always so sure of himself, his sparkling expensive cars and money everywhere he stepped his poisonous feet.

“The well-known boss of the city George Russell has started with his hunt for a wife.”

Camera turned to his direction, George looking into it with his intense gaze and wide smirk.

“I’m going to find you, baby girl.”

You stopped as you took in his gaze, it was like he was talking to you through the screen, and you chuckled at the naivety of your brain. You would never want a man like him…

///

Week after, you were having a lunch break at the restaurant in the city, you got yourself a fancy lunch from time to time. Eating in peace, you didn’t notice that you’re being watched.

George sat at his usual table, he was visiting this restaurant regularly. This time, he wasn't interested in reading newspapers, rather he looked around the space, and his eyes landed on you. Hell, he was mesmerised. The way you giggled at your phone, how your hair landed over your shoulders, even your fit figure...

Suddenly you got up, grabbing your things as you paid for your lunch and stormed out of the restaurant. George felt the urge to get up and ran to you, but he stopped himself, cursing under his breath. He was supposed to be composed and frightening, how come a simple woman can make him so soft?

///

"Sure, I can get it for you boss." you just rolled your eyes, walking to this expensive boutique, where your boss ordered his load of shirts.

While you were waiting for the order to be ready, you couldn't help yourself and you wandered through the beautiful dresses that just hung there, captivating your eyes. You always dreamed to dress like this, stylish, elegant and classy. Yes, you tried your best, but it was cheap, because your salary wasn't much.

"That would suit you." Manly voice was heard behind you and you just turned around, thinking it's just an associate of the store, but it was motherfucking George Russell.

Your brows furrowed, jaw tightened as you stepped aside from the dresses and him. You noticed that he was dressed like usual, his tailored suit with the buttoned shirt, three buttons from the top undone, his expensive silver watches nearly blinding the eye.

"Nobody asked for your opinion." you were bold, not really playing the innocent girl, who is scared of him. And that was something which was even more tempting for him.

“When is your birthday?” He asked, following you through the boutique, carefully, like a prey.

“I’m amazed that you don’t know that already.” You scoffed, not giving him a single look.

George chuckled, shaking his head.

“I want to buy you that dress you were looking at. Give it as a birthday present.”

“Keep dreaming, boy. I’m not interested.”

“But you should be.”

Rolling your eyes, you lifted your gaze from the shoes, you were interested in, to meet his mesmerising blue eyes.

“And why is that?”

George took a few steps towards you, closing the distance between you, your nostrils filled with his cologne.

“Because sooner or later, I’m gonna see you in white.”

He then smiled with a soft hum, his hand brushing over yours, his body moving by you, walking out of the boutique.

You stood there, frozen to the spot, releasing the breath you didn’t know you were holding, stretching the hand he just brushed over, swallowing your excitement.

“We’ll see.”

///

You tried your best to avoid him, but it was really pointless when he could have information about anybody he pointed to. Week later you received the big box with a scandalously big ribbon on it, which was only to make you upset.

There was that damn dress you were eying in that boutique you met him together with a sticky note.

Dear miss,

This dress screams your name for you to wear it. I want to see you in it by Friday at 7 PM, at that restaurant you were having lunch last week.

Your future husband, G.Russell

Even though he didn’t know you, he knew his ways to make you angry and annoyed. You’ll show him with whom he’s playing.

On Friday, you wore that dress, hell, the way it was wrapped around your curves, making you look like some kind of goddess, it made you smile. But soon you got your upset expression back, remembering your mission for the evening. You dress to impress.

Arriving to the restaurant, you captured eyes of everybody there, even waitresses stopping in their tracks to lay their eyes on you, dropping a few glasses on the ground. With a soft huff you arrived at the table where George was already sat, smirking at the way your hips were swaying, walking in your heels. You gave him a look full of daggers, which made his smirk even wider.

“Thanks for the dress, I guess. But you can fuck off. I’m not gonna participate in this stupid game of yours.”

He let out a small chuckle, his eyes darting over your face, noticing that your outburst made your cheeks blush.

“It’s not a game. I already have a date set for our wedding.”

That made you even more furious. Taking a step closer to him, you poked your finger to his chest.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not gonna marry you. Find someone who actually wants it.”

He grabbed your hand firmly, moving it to his lips to brush his lips over your knuckles, the way it made your breath hitch and your heart nearly stop.

“Well. I thought that it’d be much harder to shut you up.”

“Go to hell, Russell.”

You snickered, snatching your hand from his grip and you stormed out of the restaurant.

George leaned back in his chair, thinking that he might be too much in his demands to you, so he needed to push back a little. Give you time and space. Show you that he values your opinion.

But only to that point to lure you into his setting.

///

George wanted to impress you with his actions. So he started to dig into your life, making his people gather everything about you.

So when he found out you’re an F1 fan, he started to show his interests by investing into technologies and to the Mercedes team, your favourite. It was a huge thing, when a wealthy man like Russell was doing that.

You were working as usual, after your last encounter, your boss were more aware of your presence and what work you were assigned to. Suddenly, your name was called, there was a box with flowers at your desk. Your jaw tightened, because immediately you knew.

“The secret admirer again?” Your colleague giggled next to you, while you let out an annoyed huff.

“Something like that..”

Tossing the flowers to the bin, you wanted to do the same with the box, but curiosity got the best of you. Unwrapping it, getting through the delicate pink paper, there were VIP tickets to the Formula One Grand Prix. But it wasn’t just an ordinary GP. It was for Monaco. Your dream. Brushing your fingertips over the plastic card with your name and photo on it, you felt torn. There was also a note, neatly written.

Dear miss,

I heard about the very special hobby of yours. Allow me to invite you to accompany me to the race in Monaco. I think that you’ll enjoy it. The box is filled with everything you’ll need for that weekend. There’s no need for you to do anything. I have it covered.

G.Russell

That bastard.

///

Watching the qualifying had you on the edge of your seat, your breath quickened, fast cars swishing around the VIP lounge. George was smiling widely, noticing the other sorts of people eying them, whispering, he was beyond himself every time he brushed his hand over your back and you didn’t scold him for it, because you were simply not paying attention.

His eyes darted to your face, taking in your focus. “You’ll be a supportive mom for our child, who’s, for sure, will be a driver.”

That got your attention abruptly, shooting him a pointed gaze. “You’re nuts.”

“Why? About our child being a successful formula one driver?” He snorted, toying with your words.

“No, about the idea of me having kids with you. Not gonna happen.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes with a huff, that fluttering tightness in your chest being brushed away.

George chuckled, he knew that you won’t give in easily. What you didn’t know was that he was a very patient man.

Spending a whole weekend with him was exhausting. Everybody expected you to act like a smiley sunshine, happy to be beside him, having a time of your life. But you enjoyed only the part of racing and that you got to meet your idols with the perks of VIP pass.

George was trying to provide you with everything he thought you’d need, drinks, food and sweets. Making sure you’re safe, beside him all the time, not getting you out of sight. Well, he respected your privacy every time you slammed the door of your hotel room in his face. You didn’t want to admit it, but he wasn’t so bad as you thought. The way he looked at you, took care of you, how he smiled at your witiful remarks.

After the race, you held that stupid smile on your face, happy with the result of it, really full of joy from the weekend. You were grateful.

George was walking beside you, his hand close, his fingers brushing over yours from time to time, trying his luck again. About fifth time, your fingers met and it resulted in him intertwining his with yours and to his surprise, you weren’t pushing him away with a comment of how disgusting he is. Actually you were still smiling, trying to avoid to look at him, because of the familiar warmth in your stomach you felt.

“It was a nice weekend, don’t you think?” Slicing through the silence between you, he held onto your hand like if it was his lifeline.

“Pretty much. Thank you.” Your voice went soft, he really didn’t expect it.

“No problem. I like to make you happy.”

“So, what about a dinner? I’m starving.”

Sitting in the hotel restaurant, you found your way to talk together. Sharing the deepest thoughts and secrets of yours, laughing at the stories from your childhood, somewhere in between all of this, you realised that you like this man. More than you should. Maybe his idea of marriage wasn’t as stupid as you thought and something deep within you was awakening. Desire.

George walked you to your hotel room like he did for the past two nights, but as your key card slid through the scanner, unlocking your room, you turned around to face him, fighting with the urge to kiss him. As if he knew by the look in your eyes, he grabbed your chin firmly, closing the distance between you, capturing your lips in sweet kiss he was waiting for so long. Letting out a soft moan into his mouth, you pulled him closer by his shirt, his hand pushing the door open, urging you to get inside.

Walking together as if you were waltzing around, you got to the king size bed falling onto the mattress, still kissing. George crawled on the top of you, his hands everywhere on your body, not getting enough of you. Finally he moved to your neck, sucking on the sensitive flesh, making you gasp and shake in need.

“George, don’t-“ you managed to breathe out and his head shot up abruptly, looking down at you.

“I can stop. If it’s too much, tell me and I’ll stop.”

“Don’t. Don’t stop. Please.”

And with that you spent the first night of many by having a wild sex.

///

Walking the aisle was meant to be easy, but it was hard, when your soon-to-be husband fucked your brains out the night before. Straps of your heels wrapped around your ankles held you straight, so nobody could tell that you’re barely holding yourself, while wearing that beautiful wedding dress you managed to choose on the first try.

Oh, but George knew. Smirking at you the whole time you were nearing to him, he was so proud of himself, for making you weak, that confidence of yours shaken a little and that fiery look replaced with worry.

Finally you reached to his spot, grabbing his hand with tight grip, leaning over to kiss his cheek, a gesture that seemed so sweet for your guests, but you just whispered to his ear.

“I’ll make you pay for this, you dick.”

He just bit into his lip, holding his laugh in, looking at the priest who was about to wed them. You put on your best smile, looking forward to spend the rest of your life with this number one asshole. But he was yours. And you loved him to the moon and back.

///

The honeymoon location was meant to be a surprise. Even after a few times of your attempts of trying to find out, George wasn’t giving you a single clue.

Spending the atrocious seventeen hours in the plane seat, you found your fun with it, every time you got up to the restroom, you brushed your ass over George, making him clear his throat and keep his composure.

Yes, he was or you were wealthy enough to have your own private jet, but your one condition was to travel like the ordinary people at least once.

Finally, the last flight with a small plane took you to the private island, with a bungalow at its centre.

The manager of the location showed you to your house where you were about to spend the next two weeks. No signal, no civilization, supply arriving twice a day.

While George was discussing details with him, you laid down on the very spacious bed in the bedroom, which had a view over the beautiful scenery of the island. You didn’t know how that happened but you fell asleep, exhausted from the travels.

The chirping of birds woke you up, it was evening already, the house was filled with silence and George nowhere near you. Walking out of the bedroom, yawning and running a hand through your hair, you walked to the living room which had a small pool at the side with another view over the ocean and the nature of the island.

And there he was. Naked, his body dipped in the water, leaning over the edge of the pool, his gaze travelling up and down your figure with his hungry look. You shivered, feeling that your adventures just began.

“I see you had your beauty sleep, my love. Strip and come here.” His voice was demanding and you wanted to slip out another funny remark, but you bit into your tongue and got yourself naked, slowly moving down the stairs to the pool, water devouring your curves. George couldn’t take it anymore, he was hard all day after your naughty little encounters. He moved through the water to capture you in his arms,

“I was waiting for this whole day.” Whispering, he nibbled at your ear, making you gasp. Grabbing your thighs, he met your hips with his, making you feel how desperate he was for you. Another little move and he slid into your folds, your eyes wide, your mouth letting out a loud moan. The water from the pool washed over your skin in a steady rhythm while George held you close to his body.

The warmth of his skin against yours made you lose your mind. Holding you against the wall of the pool, he was sliding in and out of you, each time his thrusts being harder, hitting that exact spot inside you.

“George-“

“Mhm, that’s right, baby. I want to hear your sweet sounds. You were teasing me throughout the day and I’m about to punish you in the greatest way.”

His teeth sunk into the delicate flesh of your neck, your legs tightening around his waist more.

“You’re not gonna be able to walk. But that’s alright. You’re not getting anywhere far from me this honeymoon.”

“F-fuck…”

“I love it when you curse, wife…”

///

Two fucking pink stripes.

“I’m gonna kill him.” You whispered for yourself, holding a positive pregnancy test you peed on a while ago. You were sure that after you get back from your honeymoon, you’re gonna have more time for yourself and some career improvements, even though George was able to provide for you both.

Well, your career can go to hell now. You rummaged through your toiletry bag, only to realise that you forgot to take a few pills from the blister of your birth control over the vacation. You never thought that it would be this easy to fall pregnant, but evidently George’s precious seed was strong as fuck.

“Honey, I’m home!” The sweet tone of his voice echoed through your apartment. “And I got something for you!”

Grabbing the test, you stomped out of the bathroom, holding it behind your back, wearing a soft smile over your face.

“Hey, love, good that you’re home. I have something for you too.”

“I was at the meeting at the centre today and I saw your favourite flowers, so I got you a bouquet.” George’s smile was infectious, you couldn’t even be upset with him, he stood there with the flowers in his hands, proud that he remembered.

“Well, I have something that lasts a lifetime.” You licked your lips a little nervous, your boldness gone.

He furrowed his brows, not getting where you’re going.

You got your hand from behind your back, stepping closer to him, handing him a pregnancy test. George just looked at it, his gaze blank, a heavy silence filling the room.

“Just say something for fucks sake, George.” You whispered desperately, frowning, trying to read his mind.

He clutched the test, his eyes meeting yours with a devious smile. “I knew it.”

“What? How?”

“You were so moody lately, more than you already are, your boobs are more swollen and that ass of yours is much fuller than before. Also you were sick for the past few days, so…”

You let out a deep sigh, your hand instinctively moving around your nonexistent belly. “So, are we keeping it? Do you want this?”

Placing the flowers aside, George walked to you, placing his hand over yours, while holding your gaze, his other hand on your cheek.

“You’re my wife. My family. My whole world. And I’m ready to be a father. I want everything life can offer to us. I love you. I love the baby already.”

///

“Let’s face it, our eldest son is an ass.” Your stern tone echoed through the kitchen, as you prepared the snack for your youngest son, who sat next to George at the table. You bought the whole mansion, because your family got bigger through the years, much more than you anticipated.

“Mommy, what is an ass?” Your youngest son asked sweetly, drinking his tea. Looking at him, your eyes softened a little.

George looked at him and then at you with amused smile. “Yeah, mommy, tell us.”

“Sweetie, don’t you want to go bother your sister? I need to talk with daddy alone.” You walked to the table, ruffled the soft hair of his and he just giggled and happily obliged, running to the direction of the room of your teenage daughter.

George was watching the scene, then his eyes rested back on you, his hand reaching out for you to sit on his lap. He was always doing this, trying to avoid the serious situation with being touchy. You kissed his cheek softly, letting out a sigh.

“You bought him a whole F1 team when he was still in diapers and now, when he’s a driver, he’s not appreciative of that. Always bossing around the people from the team, acting like he’s the king. You let this get into his head, being a first born. Also I saw all those girls, who’s falling on their knees for him, there’s always two of them hanging at his sides. I tried to interfere, but he’s not listening to me. Maybe you, the authority of the family, could talk some sense to him.”

“He’s nearly twenty, love. He can do whatever he wants.”

“Is that your argument? Really?” You got up from him in disbelief, walking around the counter to drink your coffee.

“Look, I can talk to him, but I know how I was in my twenties. You used to call me a dick, you know.” Smirking, he leaned against the counter, his predatory look wandering over your figure.

“Ah, ah, you’re still a dick.” You let out a huff, trying to ignore his look as you closed the lid of the tray with food for your youngest.

The door of your daughter’s room bursted out open, she’s stomping in the kitchen with annoyed face.

“Mom! I need to get my makeup done and he’s bothering me, why do you allow him to come to my room, you should be the one to entertain him.” With that she turned back to walk into her room, leaving your youngest just standing there with sad look.

George went immediately to her room, to scold her for inappropriate behaviour, while you got your son into your arms, shushing him from crying.

“She’s in puberty, you know, her hormones raging, but deep down she loves you. Just need time to learn to show it to you properly.”

///

Your eldest son was preparing for the race, wearing his cocky face along with furrowed brows. He looked so much like George, and he knew that he was handsome. Standing at the back of the garage, listening to some conversation of the teammates, you felt your stomach churning. You had only coffee for breakfast, because for a few days you weren’t able to eat anything else, the stress of being a mom of three was too much again. George, who just talked some sense into your eldest, noticed your frown and your paleness and he was beside you within a second.

“Are you okay, baby?” He asked, running a hand over your cheek with a serious look.

“I’m good, really, I just didn’t have breakfast.” You tried to reassure him, but in that moment your stomach gave up and you felt that you’re gonna be sick. George knew, so he rushed you to the back where the restroom was. As you kneeled down beside the toilet, you heaved wildly.

After a while, he helped you to the sink, to where you rinse your mouth. With a sigh you caught his look in the mirror.

“What?”

“Look… After enduring three pregnancies with you, I think that we both know the difference between the sickness from the food and from-“

“From your DNA inside me?”

George let out an amused chuckle, you always having those biting remarks. His hand was at the back of your neck, looking down at your face with a soft smile.

“I wanted to say it more gently.”

“From when you’re so soft and gentle?”

“I’m getting like that every time a baby pops out of you.”

You let out a laugh, grabbing his shirt to kiss him. His fingers tangled in your hair, he deepened the connection, not caring about the fact that you threw up earlier.

“We need to go back, the race is about to start soon.” You whispered against his lips, your forehead rested against his.

“I know.. also, I tried to talk with our son. He just told me that he has a girlfriend. And he didn’t want to bother us by discussing adult things when we have full responsibilities with our youngest.. and our ferocious daughter.”

“A girlfriend? Oh… Well, let’s hope that it’s not gonna end up being a disaster this time.”

///

The crisp air coming from the opened balcony door along with the sun rays woke you up. Humming softly, you moved to the side, opening your eyes, only to see your husband standing naked on the balcony, watching the city around. Smiling to yourself, your body wrapped in comfy sheets of the expensive hotel George booked for your Parisian trip. He heard that you’re awake and he got back to the room, closing the balcony door, sitting beside you on the bed.

“I’m sorry, the cold air must’ve wake you, but I couldn’t help but look at the view.” He smiled gently, his hand placed on your swollen belly, you were six months along.

“It’s okay, the fresh air was nice.” You whispered, looking at him, adoring his face, the sun shining over his cheeks, emphasising his wrinkles, featuring the glimpse of greenish spark in his blue eyes.

“What are you thinking about?” George raised his brow with amused smile, his thumb rubbing circles over your belly.

“About how much I love you. How I love our family. How I gave you a hard time when we met for the first time, but the truth was that I wanted you even earlier than that. I just didn’t want to admit that I’d actually want a man like you.”

“I saw right through you from the start. Always so stubborn, independent, feisty. But I was patient with you. And now we’re here. Married for god knows how long, with our fourth child on the way. You’re so beautiful and I love you so much.”

“I love you too…” you pulled him under the covers with you, sneaking your hands over his body, craving his closeness.

///

“Mom, you’re huge.” Your daughter snorted, sitting on the bed in the master bedroom, while you were trying to put on some tight dress. You shot her a sharp glare, huffing a little, caressing your belly. Your due date was three days ago and there were no signs of your baby girl crawling its way outside. Turning around to face her, you smiled. It was very rare that she spent the time with you, being all busy with her friends and secrets she kept. She even let you cup her cheeks, caress it while she looked into your eyes, smiling happily. There was something odd with her and you couldn’t quite place it.

“Mom, I.. I want to tell you something.”

“Ah. I knew it.”

“I need you to stay calm.”

“Oh, is it bad?”

“No- yes- I don’t know.”

“Are you doing drugs?” You laughed while still holding her face gently.

“No! Mom!”

“Okay, sorry, just tell me, please.”

“I have a boyfriend.”

You raised your brows in surprise. “Well, you’re seventeen, so… what’s wrong with that?”

“It’s not bad that I have him, but who he is.”

“A bad guy?”

“Not exactly, he’s.. he’s a driver, a rival of my brother.”

Your eyes went wide as you understood where she’s pointing.

“No way, darling- you can’t be serious.”

“Yes, my boyfriend is Emilian Verstappen-Piquet.”

You nearly fainted from the news. Emilian was the son of Max and Kelly, a wealthy couple who got George into many troubles with his business. You took in a deep breath and at the same time the pain shot through your belly. Letting out a whimper, you felt something wet running down your legs.

“Fuck…”

“Mom! Mommy! What’s wrong?!” Your daughter had a panic written all over her face as she tried to hold you by your hands.

“Well, your baby sister is interested in your shocking news and she wants out.”

“Dad! Mom’s gonna give birth in the bedroom!”

///

“When I said I want to go back to Italy, I didn’t mean like this.” You let out a soft laugh, having your two year old toddler daughter pressing on your hip, clinging to you, while you were reading through the schedule at the Monza circuit. The sun was shining like crazy, you made sure that your kids had the sunscreen on in tons.

George sat beside you, pushing his sunglasses up to his hair, smiling at your adorable daughter.

“I know, but we’re here for our son, who’s gonna be champion again. And also, when was the last time we were together with only one of our kids? Thank goodness for my parents to help us.”

“Yeah, you’re right. This little one is so quiet and sweet, it’s like a reward after those raging nights with her siblings back then.” You chuckled at your daughter, who had her head over your chest, sucking on her thumb.

George wrapped his hand around your shoulder, ruffling the soft hair of your daughter, kissing your temple.

“She’s the sweetest. It took us a few attempts to finally create a quiet child.”

“Don’t try to underestimate her, maybe she’ll surprise us in the future.” You let out a laugh, your daughter reacting to it with a soft giggle, drooling over your summer dress.

“Oh, darling.” George took her into his arms, she wrapped her soft arms around his neck, sighing in contentment.

You wiped your dress from the drool, watching your husband with your baby and it made your heart nearly burst out with joy. This was your perfect life. And you lived for every aspect of that.

———

Please don’t use my writings without permission! Pictures found on Pinterest.

[fashionteahouse]

out of your league - paul x reader

AN: thank you sm for the love and support for the last eighteen parts ! 💜

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You downed the cups of coffee as your paintbrush swiped across material you were painting on. Your phone glowed with pictures of the selected model as you accurately got the pigment of her skin with the mixed colors.

You haven’t slept in two whole days but you loved it. It was currently dead in the middle of night, the honks and business of the city life pushed you to keep going. It reminded you that you did art to lead up to moments like this.

A sharp knock on your hotel door took your attention off of your art work and you didn’t want to, but you set down the wet brush.

Looking through the peephole, you sighed when you saw Edward. You crack the door, sticking your head out.

“What do you want?” Not caring how the tone sounded.

He holds up two small white pieces of papers between her fingers.

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“What is it that?” you ask.

“Symphony Orchestra concert.”

“I have a lot of work to do.” you say shaking your head.

He grins a little, “Alice saw you will get finished…Before the due date actually. You should sleep.” he says.

Your eyes sagged heavily and it looked like you were going to fall over and crash at any minute.

“Why? So you can take a peek?” you say. The way his eyes tried his best to look beyond you, you knew what he was trying to see.

He softly chuckles and he haven’t felt this caught in a long time.

“I have to wait like everybody else?”

“Yes. Now shoo, I need to finish.” you say.

“You won’t finish if you spread yourself too thin. You have to sleep.” he says.

“Fine, I will.” You say after a long yawn.

You close your door. You looked at your work and you were already halfway done.

You washed your discolored hands. You didn’t close the cracked window, the room still needing to ventilate from the paint fumes.

You slept and woke up to it being past the afternoon. You call Paul back after seeing that he had called earlier.

“Sorry, I was asleep. I haven’t gotten any sleep.” you tell him.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“I’m really trying to get this project done.”

“You will get it done. Sleep is more important.” he says and you let him know you agree.

You both stayed on the phone with no rush of getting off until it was you who broke the silence.

“You want to see what I have so far?” you ask him. He says yes.

“Okay. I will send you pictures.”

“Okay.” he says.

You do just that after you hung up with him. Before you hung up with him he says, “Just have fun. Enjoy yourself.”

You bite into the warm toasted sandwich as the wind blew in your direction. Even though it was cold, it was nice to be out of being cooped in the hotel room.

Suddenly, two cold hands cover your eyes from behind.

“Guess who?” the high octave voice says.

“Alice.” you say.

She laughs before moving around you to face you.

“You’re not wearing that to the symphony, are you?” she says as she looks at your lax outfit.

“Who said I was going?” you ask.

“Come on, what’s the point of being here if you’re not going to enjoy yourself?” she asks with a grin.

You sigh but she hurries with, “Please?” she says with her gold eyes smothering yours.

“Fine.” you say as you look down. She squeals and claps, “Good! We have to go shopping.” she says and tugs on your hand.

“Shopping?! I brought clothes.” you say but she shakes her head, “This is a shopping emergency. You can’t come to New York and not shop.”

Dragging you into a boutique, your eyes look to the racks of clothing.

Alice made you change into different articles of clothing. She watched as you stared at the outfit that you had tried on, you kept tilting your head to the side and she knew that it was something that you liked.

“It’s nice. But, there’s no way I can afford this.” you say. Your fingers ran over the fabric that was snug to your body.

“Y/N, would you quit with that? It’s on me.” she says.

“I can’t accept this.” you say.

“You can. And you will.” she says but it wasn’t harsh.

As you walk the busy streets with your bag, you call to her, “Alice.”

“Yes?” she answers.

“Why are you and Edward so involved with me?” you ask.

She smiles and says, “I can’t speak for Edward but, I guess you can say I have some sort of emotional attraction towards you.”

“Edward says that I was like morphine.”

She nods a little as she looks about, “I can see why he said that.”

“What does it mean? Did he say that because he can’t read my mind?”

“I mean..” she starts but lowers her voice and walks close to you, “I can be around you and not be thirsty. Maybe, it’s like that for Edward as well.”

Your mind drifts off, “I’m surprised you both want anything to do with me. I’m dating your enemy.”

She tinkles out a laugh, “How did you two meet anyway?”

“School. I’m glad I knew him before he turned into a wolf.”

“I guess he’s the reason why I can’t see your future. Everytime I try to focus in on it when you’re in La Push, it’s black.”

“My future. What do you typically see?”

“Hm.. Earlier I saw that a formidable art dealer will be sitting close to you at the symphony. You should talk to him.” She says as you both enter the hotel.

“Why?” you ask.

“If you show him your work, you’re set for life, that’s why.”

You press the elevator button to go up and turn to her, “I don’t know how to talk to people like that.”

“Just have Edward talk to him with you.”

“Why can’t you do it?” you ask.

“Because, just trust me. It will go smooth.” she says and enters the small box with you.

You add some extra work onto your piece until it was time for you to leave. You felt confident in what you were wearing but nerves were fluttering in your stomach.

“You look really nice.” Edward says to you and his eyes never leave your face.

“Thanks.” you mumble and look away, and decide to focus your eyes out of the car window, “Have you talked to Bella since you’ve been here?”

“No.” he answers.

“Why not? She’s your girlfriend.” you say as the driver maneuvers through the busy street.

“Not anymore. I told you she knew I was leaving.” he says.

“Does she know you’re in the same city as me?”

“Why would she know that? The last time I spoke to her was the night before I left. I’ve always stressed to her how menacing I am for her.”

You snort and shake your head a bit, “But not for me?” you ask in a mumble.

“Exactly.” he says and you take a look at him but he only stared straight ahead.

As you both sat in your seats in the concert hall, you turn to him, “I don’t understand your logic. I’m dating Paul. That alone should shoo you away along with your…thirst.”

As he held your gaze he told you carefully but low enough for you to hear him, “When you’re around, I have no bloodlust toward you. I’ve never experienced anything like it before. I’m used to the burning sensation in my throat I get when I’m thirsty but, it’s almost as if you took that away. If something’s hard to resist, it would be your presence. Your presence is powerful alone. I just care about being around you.”

The lights start to dim at that. The combination of the musical instruments moved you. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you were glad that you came to see the act at least. Goosebumps rose on your skin as your eyes were glued to the stage. The conductor waving its magic wand to orchestrate bringing music to life, ignited your creative energy that surged through your body. You couldn’t look away from the first part of the show, even if you wanted to.

The intermission rolled in and you used the bathroom.

You decide to check in someone.

“Hey you were on my mind and I just wanted to check with you”

You send the text to Bella and made your way back to your seat. Edward taps you. You look.

“See him?” he asks.

A tall man with white hair on his head was talking in a near distance while wearing a pressed suit. You nod as you continue to watch him, he’s sitting several seats away just like Alice said he would be.

“That’s Larry Gagosian.” he says.

“The art dealer?”

“Yes.”

“I can’t talk to him.” you say, sitting back comfortably in your seat as you watch people kiss his ass and fight for his attention. You didn’t want to categorize yourself with them.

“Just be yourself.” he says. You continue to not say anything as you watch the older man.

“Do you want me to come with you?” he asks.

“You won’t listen if I say no. Alice said the outcome would be good if you did so, sure.”

He chuckles lightheartedly as he follows you. People haven’t came back yet and seats were empty. A window of opportunity was rearing its head your way.

Larry matched your gaze and you say something, “I like your tie.”

He chuckles as he straightens it out, “Thank you.”

Edward says your name to him and says, “She’s a fan of your galleries.” His hand rest on your shoulder.

“That name... Would I know it from somewhere?” he asks as he calculates you and this makes you feel nervous.

You let Edward take the lead, explaining the illustration that you did for a magazine while you were back home, the contest you had won, and how you’re in the city currently working on a project for the magazine cover that everyone knows by name.

You watch Edward with surprise as he explains it all with great passion and detail. Larry was entrapped with every word. Nodding and stealing glances at you before paying attention to what Edward was saying. The people who were around him, started to scatter away as they couldn’t get his attention anymore.

“Yeah, a friend of mine was just telling me all about this artist who was going to be the next big thing and it’s just my luck I end up running into you.” Larry says with a laugh.

You felt more relaxed and you did be yourself. The conversation flowed like a stream of water and he ends up giving you his personal number saying, “I want to see more of what you got. Keep in touch.”

As you and Edward go back to your seats he turns to you to say, “Wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“Not at all.” you say in a bit of a daze.

With more motivation, you stayed up through the night as you were back in your hotel room, finishing your piece.

You took a picture and sent it to Mark as the afternoon rolled around. The painting was drying off. Your sore back and your sore fingers let you know that the hard work was well worth it.

“It’s all done :’D yay!”

Not even a moment later your phone buzzes off.

“Gorgeous! Would really like it if you could come to the cover reveal meeting with the rest of the staff ?”

You tell him that you’re going to be there and fall into the bed to sleep without the bubble of stress hovering over you.

“You look like you’re about to fall over.”

Paul stared back at you.

You waved him off.

“You’re not getting any sleep I bet either.” you say back.

“You should take it easy.” he just says.

“I have to do this. You know this.” you say. You finish with the buttons on your top at this statement.

You hear a sigh as you hold up a pair of pants. You don’t hear anything else which makes you turn around and peer at the open laptop.

Looking back at his face, you set the pants aside and push the laptop further up on the bed as you lay on your stomach.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

He groans a bit dramatically and say, “I can’t touch you. Or hold you. Or kiss you.”

“You’re making me even more depressed.” you say as two hands rest beside your head as you stare at his digital entity.

“Is that all you’re doing? The meeting I mean?” he asks.

“Yeah. That’s all I agreed to.” you said.

Paul stared back with a hidden wave of relief. Earlier, he listened as you went on about your now finished project, the meeting, the show that you saw, and who you met.

The emotions were shared between you two as you explained to him how you felt. To him, it felt intimate but, you were just really excited.

“Call me when you get back. I want to show you something.” he says as he grins at your face. You know that tone. You nod as you couldn’t help but grin back. It turns into a soon shared laugh as you both gazed at each other. It’s interrupted by a sharp knock.

You look to the door and put your head down and sigh, “I gotta go. But, I promise I will call you.” You say.

“Who is that?” he asks.

You shrug and call over, “Just a minute!”

“Open the door.” he says.

“I don’t have any pants on. I’m running late anyway.” you say with a slight frown.

He sits up straighter as he peered at you, “No pants on?” he purrs and you laugh.

“I’ll call you later.” you say and press two fingers from your lips to the camera and you hang up.

Hurrying your pants on, you then swing open the door.

“What?” you say.

“Come on, your ride is downstairs.” Edward says.

“I was coming, I didn’t need you to remind me.” you say.

You turn around and grab the chosen pair of shoes that you were going to wear.

As you slide them on, you look up for moment to see Edward stood in front of your painting.

“I didn’t say you could see it.”

“Y/N, it looks like a live picture.” he says.

You roll your eyes and grab your coat and slide it on.

You search and find a scarf that you brought and wrapped it around you.

You walk over to his still form as he was still looking at what you made and you stand beside him as you waved your hand up and down a little.

He grins with amusement. You look at the big picture, you turn to him, “Can you help me carry this?”

He walks over to it and carries it as if it weighed a feather and really takes a look at it. He’s still looking at it as if you had nowhere to be and it’s annoying to you. You roll your eyes and almost stamp your foot, “Edward, I thought our ride was downstairs?”

He slowly looks up with a quick look of great smitten. It caught you off guard. You turn and walk out of the door and you hear him close the door as you walk to the elevator.

You kept your eyes to the floor as the elevator rode down with each soft ding of the numbers counting backwards.

You fold your arms as your car door was closed by him. You didn’t look at his face.

You looked up as Mark sat with a smug smile. The long table had people who seemed to not be happy with any ideas. Mark got up while you sat in the rolling chairs, and presented the painting and said, “This is the direction I feel we should be going with.”

People tuned in as they took in and couldn’t believe that the model that they seem to all know was displayed in a painted medium.

People were in your face as the meeting was over and you were tired of saying your name. Your mind was focused on getting back to your room to talk to Paul.

You turned down the invitations to go out afterwards. You left out of the building and took in a breath of air. Before you could walk further, a car swings and pulls over. Edward steps out of the driver side and opens the passenger door.

“How was it?” he asks. You shrug and say, “It was alright.”

As you drove, your eyebrows furrow as the car pulls beside a restaurant.

“I figured you would be hungry. You were in there for two hours.” he says.

You both sat across from each other and you stare at him.

He stared back.

You couldn’t figure him out.

“What’s your motive?” you ask him. He takes his eyes at the glass of water that was in front of him, “Could you be more specific?” he asks.

“I asked a question first.”

“I don’t know what you’re implying.”

“Yeah, you do.”

He looks back at your face with a poker face, “What makes you think so?”

“I don’t believe that you just simply like being around me for whatever reason.”

“If you wouldn’t push me away so much, you would know.”

“I have a boyfriend.”

“I didn’t ask to marry you.” he says with a grin.

“But…” you say and shake your head.

“This isn’t a date. I’m not asking you to leave..Paul. We’re enjoying ourselves.” he says as if he’s piecing everything together.

“Are we? Or is it just you?” you ask in thought as your fingers brush across your forehead.

"I hope its not just me." he says and leans back in his chair. The waiter drops your plate in front of you and you thank him.

The waiter turns to Edward, "Are you sure you don't want anything?"

Edward shakes his head and politely says, "I'm alright."

The waiter walks off and you start chewing.

"How is your food?" Edward asks.

It was the best steak you ever had. But, you didn't tell him that.

You shrug, "It's alright."

He nods and you take a look at him.

"Is being in your life lonely?" you ask in a quiet tone knowing his ears would be able to pick it up easily.

"It can be." he answers with boredom as if the same question had been asked before time and time again.

"How did it happen? Was it by accident?" you ask.

That's how you knew how Edward and Carlisle's father son relationship had transpired. How the Spanish flu that was promised to take his life was halted. He was hesitant to let the next piece of information out. But, he pushed through. With a somewhat empty plate, your mind reeled as he talked about his struggle of adapting to the diet and justifying it by only killing 'the bad humans'.

You questioned Edward's philosophy and wondered if there was something to be gained for him.

"How did you stop?" you ask.

"I had enough of the lamentable after effect."

In the car, you can hear the soft purr of the engine along with outside life, you stare ahead.

"Say something." he whispers.

"I didn't know your kind could have a rebellious teenager phase." you say. He found this to be funny.

"Only because I didn't like how Carlisle restricted my diet at first.”

"Father knows best."

Edward nods with a smile as he watches the red light.

"You left Forks for good?" you ask.

He slowly nods.

"Do you miss it?" you ask.

"No. I don't have to pretend that I am a seventeen year old high school student anymore."

"Why did you and your family do that anyway?" you ask.

"The younger we start out somewhere, the longer we can stay."

You shake your head and let out a chuckle.

"What?" he asks.

"Why not just isolate? I could see you and your family doing that if you were feeding on humans to integrate better with society but, how you guys are doing it is just putting you all at greater risk of discovery."

"You're giving me lessons now? You think you can be a better vampire than me?"

"The double life charade makes you guys have to move all of the time. You have forever so, you all don't have to spend it with high school kids. You had to have done something way more interesting than that." you pointed out.

"I have two doctorates in medicine." he states invitingly.

"And a music prodigy." you add on.

"You liked the cover that I did?"

"You did..Alright." you say and he takes a glance at your face and he emits a deep chuckle.

"How did you even find out what I was talking about anyway?" you ask to stop his laughing.

"You're the one who called me the prodigy. What did you expect?" he replies in amusement.

"It's gone to your head I see." you say as you playfully roll your eyes.

"If you could live forever, what would you do?" he asks.

"It's pretty obvious." you say.

"I really would like something made by you." he says.

"We all would like things, wouldn't we?" you throw out.

"I fed you information. What do I get in return?" he asks.

"Your hopes up." you say and he pulls up to your hotel to drop you off.

"Make me something. Please?" he asks in a mellifluous voice.

Before opening the door, you say softly, "I'll think about it."

You video call Paul once you're comfortable in your room. He picks up after two rings.

You smile at his face but he says, "What took you so long?"

"I grabbed something to eat afterwards." you say.

After he knew what you ate in detail, you showed a bit of impatience, "I thought you had something to show me."

"I do." he answers.

"Okay..." you say and wait for him to spit it out but he just looks back with a neutral expression.

You lay back on your pillows with a soft sigh as he then made your heart stop with one statement, "Take your top off."

Your fingers undo the buttons and he watched. With your shirt open, you were on display.

He makes content noise, "I miss you so much."

"I miss you too." you say, focusing in on him.

"You do?" he asks.

"Yes."

"Take your pants off."

You do as you were told and you groan as the window blows its own cold air into the room. You forgot you had it open. You shuddered and your chest poked out from the draft.

"If you were here you could've kept me warm." you say.

"If I was there, how would I touch you?" he asks you.

Your fingers smooth over your skin as you watch him follow your every move.

Paul felt frustrated but he couldn't look away. He had his back against the headboard as he palmed himself. He was throbbing and aching and his grunt though your laptop let you know just that.

As your hand cupped the front of your panty covered mound, he adjusts his own device and you now see his erection as his large hand wrapped around himself.

Your movements became more frantic as you slide your underwear down. You rise on your knees as you sigh out and show him how needy you were as you buck on your hand. You were very close to the camera and Paul grunts as he stared while pumping himself.

The fact of him watching you pleasure yourself alone was driving you crazy. You craved some sort of pressure and you let him know in a soft but frustrated whisper, "I need you so bad."

"I need you to come home." he says through a grunt.

He then slows down his movements and tells you, "Grab that pillow behind you."

You sit back and grab it.

Staring at you as he wet his lips he says, "Ride it."

It only made you crave Paul more. You whine out his name as you were very close to reaching a climax but your grinding couldn't bring it out.

He tells you to slow down and to focus. Your hips shift as you maintain to hit the deep tingle that was aching with the friction of the pillow. Through your deep sighs outs, you hear him say, "Just like that."

Not too long after you shuddered out a built up orgasm, he comes as well with a moan.

You both didn't hang up with each other as you clean yourself up. You hop back in bed, not bothering to put clothes back on and he talks to you until you're fast asleep.

Waking up, a black screen stares back at you. You groan softly as you realized the laptop had died. After you plug it in, you hurry up and put clothes on because of the cold autumn air that blew in. You slide the window shut.

You call Paul with your cellphone but there's no answer and you assume he has to patrol. You text him.

"So sorry. My laptop died :x "

You seen a text from Jared.

"This week needs to hurry up and end so you can take Paul back he's driving me crazy >_<"

You chuckle at this as you miss them all.

It felt nice to walk the streets without having to go somewhere important. You thought about just heading back home, but it seemed to be promising here. You were a bit conflicted. At a bookstore, you were in the middle of reading the back of a book, you felt wave of overwhelm.

You look up. People around you seem to walk and chatter about. Minding their business. You just didn't understand why you felt a cloud of impending doom.

You walk further in the cozy store as you try to shake off the feeling. It just felt like something or someone was watching your every move. You started to feel like maybe your brain was playing tricks on you.

You give up and move your legs fast toward the exit, only ending up bumping into something super hard.

You couldn't even say sorry because you were a bit stunned by the impact. A pair of eyes stared back at you as they held your body up. You felt uneasy under this gaze. He looked unsettling.

"There you are. I've been trying to find you." you hear a voice.

You felt your arm being tugged away and you realized the voice came from Edward. He glared at the man who stared at both of you. It was as if Edward was telling him a lot with only one look.

He tugs you out of the store and you wait for a moment to ask, "What happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it." he growled out lowly.

This was the first time you've seen Edward look so dangerous. Your legs struggle to keep up with him but you do. You look down and realized both of your hands have been intertwined. You retract it and put your hands in your pocket.

This slows his steps, he calls your name.

"Just tell me what happened. Why did that guy make you so upset?" you ask.

"I need something to keep my mind occupied." he says as he shakes his head.

You enter a record store, music plays overhead. You both search pretend to search through a row of vinyls.

"He was thinking of ways to lure you with him so he could drain you dry." Edward says with hardness but it was low so no wandering ears would have questions.

Your hands stopped at one record as you felt confused, "But, his eyes were brown. Not like yours or red."

"Contacts. It's nothing new to him." Edward confirms.

"Hm.." you mused as you looked at the colorful art of the vinyl cover.

You look up to him smothering his own intense gaze over you and you ask, "Why didn’t you wear them? Especially if you were going to school?"

"The venom dissolves them just way too fast. He was dangerous. He had a plan that he was willing to carry out swiftly.”

"I thought I didn't make you guys thirsty." you say in a hushed tone.

"I can only speak for myself. Alice as well." he says.

“So confusing…” you whisper out in frustration.

It’s quiet for a moment until you ask again, “How did you find me?”

“Alice seen where you were. You decided to go into that bookstore.”

You nod in understanding.

You did buy a CD and Edward advised you to not go to your hotel room just yet.

“I need to make sure he doesn’t try to follow you.”

“But, there’s nothing else for me to do.” you say. You wanted to call Paul again.

He takes a look at you and ask, “Have you been to the Gagosian gallery?”

You shake your head.

“Let’s go.”

You look about because you’re hesitant.

“What’s the problem?” he asks.

“It..It feels too intimate.” you voice out.

“How?”

You shrug. But, you knew. You would rather go with Paul. You missed Paul so much.

“Why not tell Larry you will be there? I’m sure he would like that.” he says to you as you both start walking again.

“He’s a busy man. He couldn’t care less.” you say.

“You never know until you try.” he says back.

You check your phone as you felt it buzz.

“Charge it smh can you call me ?”

You type back with a response.

“I put it on the charger before I left. I’m going to a gallery now I will call you after”

“Aren’t you worried someone will point out..” you say and point toward your eyes.

He smirks, “In a big city they will just think I’m expressing myself.”

You chuckle at the accuracy.

You greet Larry with a text, tell him how you were enjoying his gallery so far. You compliment him to add a cherry on top.

It was true. There was so much to see as your eyes take it all in. You forgot that you even came with someone as you went off into your own world. All you kept thinking about one of your pieces being hung here.

The talent in the room swallowed you whole. You heard some gasps. You look and Edward was standing near you with a small grin. He tells you to look, your eyes follow where he’s looking and you look.

Larry looks around and smiles a bit as he sees that you’re still there. He comes over and says hello to you.

An arm is wrapped around your shoulders as he asks someone to take a picture.

You look to him in surprise as he whispers while smiling, “How would you like to be represented by me?”

A small smile is brought on your face at the promise as the camera that Edward holds up is flashed, blinding you by the white light.

[lewisvinga]

salvatore | esteban ocon x fem! reader

summary; after living a life full of cold exes, y/n never expected to find her ‘salvatore’ during a summer in monaco

warnings; toxic/abusive exes, slut shaming,

word count; 1k

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minkyungseokie @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri

notes; this is song has been on repeat

‘born to die’ series masterlist.

masterlist !

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“C’mon, Y/n, you need a man. You need to live a little!" Y/b/f exclaimed as she followed around Y/n who was tidying up around her home.

"Y/n," She sighed, "I don't need a man."

"It's been 4 years since you broke up with your ex. You haven't dated anyone since you were 21!”

“And you know why.”

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5 years ago

“C’mon, Y/n, let’s just go out!” Y/b/f asked through the phone. “You’re already ready!”

Y/n sighed as she cleaned the counter with a damp towel. She kept looking over her shoulder and back at the front door. “Louis is on his way. I can’t-“

“You can’t or he won’t let you? C’mon, Y/n, you deserve better.”

“I can’t.” She huffed as she rushed to finish off a quick chicken dish so it could be ready when her boyfriend arrived. “How ‘bout we go out tomorrow for lunch? I’ll call you later, promise-“

“Call who?” Louis's voice interrupted her mid-sentence. She hadn’t realized he arrived and she quickly hung up on Y/b/f.

“Y/b/f. She just wanted to hang out and-“

“That’s why you’re dressed like a whore?”

“I-I was about to ch-“

“Change into another slutty outfit?”

Y/n let out a sigh, keeping her gaze on the floor. She could feel Louis’ harsh stare as she turned off the stove and grabbed him a plate. Fortunately, he wasn’t so frustrated after work so he wasn’t as mean to her as usual.

Still, she felt tired of everything. She felt tired of constantly being paranoid. She hated how every word of his left her a mental scar. She hated how sometimes she had to wear sweaters in warm weather to cover up the black and purple marks on her skin. She was just tired.

Y/n glanced at him as she served the food on his plate. In the back of her mind, she knew Y/b/f was right and she was already thinking of the perfect time to leave him.

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present day

Y/n held onto her Dior tote bag as she strolled down the streets of Monaco. She was killing time in the shops before having lunch with Y/b/f and a couple of other girls to celebrate her best friend's engagement.

Y/b/f had instructed them to wear white so Y/n wore a short white sundress. She had an iced latte in her hand, glancing through the window of various boutiques and designer stores.

The summer was hot but she didn’t mind it. She spent the past week working on her tan, eating soft ice cream, and enjoying her week off.

She was lost in her thoughts when before she knew it, she suddenly bumped into what she thought was a wall until she heard a panicked voice. “Oh, fuck! Are you okay?”

The collision had caused her to spill her latte all over her white dress, staining it brown. She let out a chuckle as she looked down at the stain and at the empty plastic cup. “I’m fine. I wasn’t paying attention! Sorry for that.”

Y/n glanced up and was met with probably one of the most beautiful men she had ever seen. His deep brown, almost black eyes were filled with concern as he looked her over. He ran his fingers through his jet-black hair before running his hands over his equally jet-black stubble.

“I’ll-i’ll buy you a new dress! Where’d you get it from?”

“I said don’t worry! It’s a pricey dress anyway.” She said with a smile but that didn’t seem to satisfy him.

“No, please, let me. I can afford it. I’ll even get you another latte.”

“You won’t drop this will you?”

His lips curled into a smile as he shook his head. “Nope!” He said with a shrug. “But the least you could do is give me your name.”

She shook her head slightly and laughed as she holds her hand out. “Y/n, and you must be?”

“Esteban.”

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3 years later

“Bonjour. Good morning.”

Esteban’s soft voice woke Y/n up from her deep slumber. Her vision was still blurry as she slowly sat up against the bed, rubbing her eyes and letting her vision get used to the bright lights.

She realized that he stood in front of her with a tray in his hands. Once her vision cleared up, she noticed the iced latte and a croissant with a small candle resting in the middle of the tray.

“Joyeux Anniversaire, chérie.” [happy birthday, dear.] Esteban whispers, sitting beside her on the bed. He kissed her forehead as she took the tray from him. “Now make a wish.”

A small pout decorated her lips as she looked down at the candle. He purposely picked a pink candle knowing that it was her favorite color. Something her ex-boyfriend never bothered learning about in their 3 years of dating.

A panicked look appeared on Esteban’s face when he noticed Y/n’s eyes fill with tears as her bottom lip quivered. “Chérie? What’s wrong? Shouldn’t you be happy on your birthday?” He asked, his voice filled with concern. He reached over and fixed her bed hair.

“I am happy.” She replied while tears streamed down her cheek. She lifts up the tray and softly blows the candle out. She turns to look at her now boyfriend of nearly 3 years with a wide smile on her voice.

“I just never had anyone care for me like you have, Estie.” She whispered as she set the tray on the bedside table. He wraps his arm around her shoulder, tucking her into his arms. “You’re my salvatore. [savior] You saved me. I didn’t even need to make a wish because you’re all I’ve ever wanted. You’re the best thing in my life.”

Esteban places his finger under her chin, causing her to look up into his deep brown eyes. He leans down and places a gentle kiss on her lips. He whispered against her lips, “I’ll always be your salvatore.”

[samiwife]

Hii there! How are you?

I loved your post about Izzy headcanons and preferences, and I was wondering if you could write how would be him giving Princess Treatment to his girl?

Tysm! 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

Yes of course <3 I've been planning on making a fanfic like this so here you go <3 Thanks 4 the request

Little Miss Princess ੈ✩‧₊˚ (Izzy Stradlin x Reader)

♡��= Smut

ੈ✩‧₊˚= Fluff

⋆ ★= Angst

𓆩⟡𓆪 = Headcanons

Izzy's form of affection is personal service. Izzy was always the silent type but his love for you is in his actions. He's always treating you like a princess. Like that one time when you hurt your ankle and he carried you around the house. He'd always ask what you need or get you things you didn't ask for. One time you and Izzy were walking past a fancy boutique window, and you saw a beautiful silk pastel pink dress. You quietly muttered the words "I would kill to have that dress." Izzy heard you and quickly ran inside and bought it. Just like that, no second thought. He just ran in and went out with the dress in hand. You were shocked. Izzy treated you like a princess.

One day, you decided to take Izzy to the mall with you. Most of the time, Izzy hated going to the mall with anyone. But with you, he'll do it any day and anytime. You brought your purse and quickly drove to the mall with Izzy. You stepped through the mall's door. "Babe, what store are you going into?" Izzy said looking down at you. "I was thinking about this cute dress shop on the second floor." You said holding his hand. Izzy nods and continues to walk with you upstairs to the shop. "Izzy, you don't have to come with me. You can look at shops you like." You said to Izzy while smiling.

"No, I want to be with you," Izzy said sternly as he pulled you closer. You blushed and continued to walk to the store. You finally reached the store. You quickly started scanning the clothes and shoes. Izzy was standing behind you the entire time giving little comments when you asked. "Do you think this color would look good with these shoes?" You asked Izzy. He gives it a thought and then looks at the dress and shoes. "I think the shoes need to be a darker shade, but I know you like lighter colors so I think you should get a lighter dress. But you're always beautiful." Izzy explained while giving a slight smile. You grinned widely and kissed him on the cheek.

You picked out a lighter shade of the dress and began to walk to the front and pay. Izzy gently pushed you to the side and slapped down his card. "No baby, I'll pay," Izzy said sternly again. "No Izzy, you've done enough for me. I'll pay." You said giggling. But Izzy wasn't. "No baby, I am going to pay. And you're not changing my mind." Izzy said as he stood over you. You gulped and smiled. "Okay fine, Iz. You can pay." You said backing away from the counter. Izzy smiled widely and swiped his card. The two of you walked out of the clothing store and began walking downstairs.

"Hey Iz, since you paid. We can go visit your favorite record shop down the street." You said holding his hand. Izzy's face grew bright and he began speeding up his pace in walking. "Oh looks like someone is excited." You said laughing. "Thank you, Y/N. I love you." Izzy said confidently. This was a shock to you since Izzy rarely ever said "I love you", you would always say it but you just get a kiss back. After Izzy said that, you quickly wrapped your arms around him and kissed his lips. Izzy kissed back and ran his finger through your hair.

"I love you too, Izzy." You said smiling.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

The Aftermath || LN4 {8}

Pairing: Lando Norris x widow!reader Summary: Two years after the accident it's race week in Imola but are you ready to return to the track that took your husbands life? Warnings: 18+ only, grief, panic attack WC: 2.4k

F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten || Eleven || Twelve || Thirteen || Epilogue

Imola 2024 Lando’s blurry image swayed with the waves on the surface and you watched him for another few moments from where you sat on the bottom of the pool. Your chest was burning as you broke the surface and you gasped in a lungful of air before wiping the water from your face and swimming over the edge he took a seat on. 

The sounds of the city coming to life returned and you missed the quiet stillness that came with submerging yourself under the water.

“What time did you wake up?” Lando asked with yawn as he combed a hand through the wild mess atop his head.

You weren’t sure if you had even gone to sleep. You had laid beside Lando for hours, watching his chest rise and fall with each breath and lacing your fingers with his when they blindly searched for you in his sleep. “A little while ago.”

You were accustomed to the memories that resurfaced everywhere you went, and you were used to seeing the parts of René that were ingrained in everything he left behind. But being back in this city was the hardest memory to face. 

The race had been cancelled last year, and that had been the weekend that brought Lando back into your life. This year there was no act of god to keep the Grand Prix from going ahead and you had spent most of the drive to Imola silently staring out the window. Every now and again his hand on your thigh would give a reassuring squeeze and you would give him a weak smile in return.

McLaren still booked the same boutique hotel and the same premier room with the view over the Santerno river that ran past the circuit. You knew it was a simple business arrangement and no one gave a second thought to using the suites they knew from experience were of high quality. But it was all you could think about when Lando pulled into the valet parking. 

How were you expected to sleep in the same bed you had shared with René on the very last night you had together? The question had turned over in your mind as you lay there, the sheets suddenly too stifling to bear any longer. Stars had still littered the sky when you slipped into the tepid water and let it wash over your head to silence the thoughts. 

“Breakfast is ready when you are,” Lando broke your trance as he held open a towel for you to step into.

“I don’t think I can come with you today,” you whispered as he wrapped the soft material around you and held you in his arms for a moment. 

He nodded and his arms tightened their hold before he released you to go and get changed. When you looked back you expected to see him following but he was raising his phone to his ear and turning his back.

“We couldn’t help but notice you’ve arrived alone to the track this week. Is everything alright between you and Y/N, and can we expect to see her at the race today? She hasn’t missed a single one of yours since she made her return to the paddock last year.”

Lando twisted the microphone in his hands and his lips pressed in a tight line while he debated whether to answer the question or tell them to piss off. It was Carlos who made the decision for him as the Ferrari driver lifted his own microphone to his mouth.

“This is a tough weekend for all of us. The last time we raced on this track was with René, and returning without him it’s…” Carlos trailed off quietly with a shrug as the crowd fell silent. “Just ask Pierre and Charles how it feels returning to Spa every year.”

“It’s hard, man,” Pierre murmured into his microphone, Charles nodding in agreement. 

“It’s fucking hard,” Carlos reiterated as his palm slapped his thigh. “And we were only friends, but for Y/N, it has to be so much harder to return here, on this weekend especially.” He shifted as he tried to calm down and sat back on the sofa they all sat upon with a sigh and waved his hand down the line of drivers on the panel. “We can understand why she isn’t here, as should all of you, but if she decides to come then we will all be here to support her.”

The interviewer pressed her finger to her ear and a smile grew on her face at the news she was hearing. “Well, as it happens Lando, your car was just spotted coming in so it looks like Y/N has decided to come after all.”

Lando shifted on the seat so he could pull his phone from his trousers and saw the text messages and calls he had missed. “Sorry, guys, I’ve gotta go,” he apologised before Oscar took his microphone and gave him a reassuring push.

You had tried to be strong for Lando’s sake but the moment the door closed behind him you had buried yourself under a mountain of blankets on the couch. You had tried so hard to make it to the sessions each day but you hadn’t been able to take that final step over the threshold. 

Now it was raceday and the second anniversary of René’s accident. There was nothing left in the well of your energy, no hidden strength you could muster to take that step out of the room.

Lando had watched you try and it had been enough for him as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead and slipped his keys into your hand, just in case. “I’m sorry, I’ve gotta go,” he murmured as he wished he had even one minute more to see if you would follow. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you said as you blinked back the tears of disappointment and watched him leave. “Be safe.”

A knock sounded at the door a few minutes later and you threw the blankets back that you were overheating underneath. “Did you forget your pass agai-” your words were choked from your throat at the woman standing in front of you when you opened the door.

“Lando called,” she said as she smiled sadly. “I came as fast as I could.”

You fell forward and sobbed as she wrapped her arms around you and sniffed back her own tears. “Shhh, it’s going to be okay, ma chérie, maman’s here. Dry your eyes, my René wouldn’t want to see you like this.” She guided you back inside and closed the door behind her. “Now, I’m going to make you a chamomile tea and then we are going to have a little talk.”

You did as you were told after giving Maria Gauthier one more hug. It had been too long since you last saw her but you hadn’t known what relationship there was when the person who was the bridge was gone. You hadn’t been sure if she was still even considered your mother-in-law so you had pulled away and lost touch with her like so many other people that year. But Lando hadn’t.

“I had hoped to see you at the memorial,” Maria said as she placed two steaming hot mugs on the table and took a seat. “I was furious when I found out they hadn’t invited you.”

“I wasn’t in a good space anyway,” you said as you cupped your palms around the drink and let the ceramic warm your palms. “I’m sorry I never returned your calls.”

“It’s water under the bridge.” She placed her hand over yours and you noticed the white band stark compared to her sun kissed skin. Her eyes followed yours and she sighed sadly as she rubbed the space where her wedding ring used to sit. “We all grieve in our own ways,” she murmured before hiding her hands under the table. “Leo found his salvation in a waitress in Bordeaux.”

“I’m so sorry, maman.”

“Don’t be, it’s not anyone’s fault. There was a gaping hole in our family without René and nothing the two of us could do to fix it. But we move forward, because Gauthier women are strong, right?” She pinned you with a stare until you nodded feebly. “Good, so get dressed because you have a race to get to.”

Water sloshed over the cup, burning your hands, as you shook your head violently. “I can’t go there.” Your breathing was too rapid, the room starting to spin as you relived that moment when you heard the squeal of locked tires then the clash of metal crumpling and saw the flames engulfing the car. “I can’t…”

“You can and you will, and I will be right by your side,” Maria promised as she moved the cup away and gently dried your hands. “Did you know I came here after the funeral?”

You frowned at the information. “You did?”

“Mhmm,” she nodded. “I don’t know what I thought I was going to do, but when I got to the track all that anger and pain I was feeling just vanished. I swear, poof, gone. And then I felt his presence, and how could I not? He dedicated his entire life to racing, he loved it, chérie, and you can feel it there. I’ll show you.”

Your hands trembled as they hovered over the clothes hanging in the closet, torn between Lando’s Quadrant colours and McLarens. With a steadying breath you pushed aside your normal choice and chose the grey and orange fitted shirt knowing today wasn’t just about supporting Lando.

“I tried to call Lando but he must be busy. Oh well, I’m sure we will be able to find him,” Maria said as she walked in the room with her phone in her hand. When she looked up she paused and she clenched her hands to her chest with a smile. “Ah, this takes me back.”

Maria was patient as you collected your belongings into your handbag but when you had nothing left to delay your departure she held her hand out. You accepted the strength she offered and let her pull you over the threshold and into the carpark. 

“Are you alright to drive?” she asked as you unlocked the suicide doors on Lando’s McLaren and opened the drivers side. 

“I think I need to,” you said with a nod as you slipped into the leather seats and pushed the start button. Having the steering wheel in your grip gave you a semblance of control of the situation, knowing you could turn around if you couldn’t go any further. “Thank you for coming today.”

“Of course, chérie, we are still family and you will always be a daughter to me. So next time you’re struggling, you call me okay?”

Your throat tightened with emotion as your question was finally answered. “Okay, maman.”

Maria’s hand rested on your shoulder as she kept you moving forward through the paddock, the warm touch enduring the bumps and knocks of the busy crowd moving about before the Formula 2 feature race began. Suddenly the bodies parted and you looked up after feeling a pat on your shoulder before her hand slipped away. 

Lando skidded to a halt a few feet in front of you and his face lit up as his lips parted in one of his rare full blown grins. 

You had kept your head down the entire walk to avoid all the phones and cameras that would have undoubtedly followed your entrance but now that you were seeing more than the concrete beneath your feet you noticed a sign a fan was holding up. ‘Racing is my oxygen.’

You could hear René’s voice, the confidence and surety it held whenever he finished the quote, ‘I need it to survive.’ It was then that you understood what Maria had spoken of earlier, so long as there was racing his memory would live on and his presence would be felt.

Tearing your eyes away from the sign, you returned the smile - something that had been difficult to do all week. “Hey,” you greeted as you stepped into his arms, “sorry I’m late.”

“You’re here, love,” he murmured into your hair like he couldn’t quite believe it before kissing the top of your head and pulling Maria into a side hug. “You made it too.”

“I’m offended at the surprise in your tone, mon chéri,” she tutted as she returned the hug and looked up at him. “You’ve grown again, and gotten skinny. Is she not feeding you enough?”

“I fed him too much apparently,” you defended yourself as you poked Lando’s hard abs. “Now he’s on a diet.”

“Good girl,” she grinned proudly as she rubbed your back and his. “I miss your visits, it's so quiet all the time at home now. You three were always laughing and getting into trouble when you came to Paris.”

“We’ll come and visit you soon, Mrs Gauthier, promise.”

“Please, chéri, it’s Maria or maman to you,” she said with a tap to his McLaren cap on his head. “I cooked and cleaned for you almost as much as René, I might’ve well have adopted you as my own.”

“We are lucky to have you, maman.” He kissed her cheek like he did his own mother before stepping back and taking your hand with a nod to the hospitality and garage area. “I need to get ready, coming?”

You nodded and reached into your pocket before handing over his car key but he hesitated to take it. “You can hang onto it, just in case,” he said as he pulled his hand back.

“No,” you said as you opened his hand and placed it in his palm. “I’m fine, really, Lan, I’m not going to hide again. This is where I want to be.”

365 days. It had been 365 days since Lando came back into your life and saved you from the lonely, broken existence you had isolated yourself to. It had taken 365 days but, standing there in Imola where your heart had been shattered into so many pieces you never thought you would never be whole again, you finally felt healed.

Racing is my oxygen, I need it to survive. René Gauthier, #29, 1997 - 2022

Click here for part nine.

Tagging: @yunnie-f1 @neiich @zendayabelova @stillbreathin @dr3lover @writerscurse @christianpulisic10 @alwaysclassyeagle @alexisquinnlee-bc @purplephantomwolf @lightsoutletsgo @pleasantducktimetravel @pierre-gasllllllyyyyyy @holy-macncheese-balls @belennasif @ophcelia @love4lando @ryiamarie

[erinkeifer]

ℕ𝕠𝕥 𝕞𝕪 𝕔𝕠𝕕𝕖 - ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕀𝕍

[Anakin Skywalker x Padawan!Fem Reader]

Masterlist | Wattpad | AO3 Not My Code Masterlist

Summary: When Anakin was away on missions, all you could do was miss him and work at the temple. Now, on the eve of your knighting ceremony, Anakin returned, very exhausted, but you didn't hesitate to comfort him in a very special way.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI | smut | rough oral sex (m!receiving) | face fucking | dom!Anakin | sub!Reader | kissing | cursing | mentions of injuries

Author note: I'm doing my best to make each part readable on its own, without knowledge of the previous ones, so no worries! If you don't want to catch up on the storyline, you can treat it as a one-shot!

Word Count: 4,2k

Though you won't admit it to anyone, you feel that as the ceremony approaches, your self-assurance is growing. The past few weeks have been difficult to endure - Anakin barely returned to the temple, and when he did, it was at night when you had no chance to see him. A few times, you communicated through comlinks, but he was never alone, so you waited very patiently.

However, contact with Anakin wasn't the only thing you lacked patience for during this time. Yesterday marked two weeks since you should have had your period, and if you hadn't gotten it today, your first meeting with Anakin after the separation would have been rather stressful.

Stepping out of the bathroom, a weight lifted off your heart - relieved of one worry, you walked to your wardrobe and chose one of your outfits that you had recently purchased.

In your spare time this week, you allowed yourself to spend a few credits in Coruscant, and since you had gazed at the luxurious boutique next to Luthen's antique shop, you decided to splurge a bit. You had always admired Mon Mothma's fashion, and when you discreetly observed her leaving that very shop during one of your missions, you took it as a true mark of quality.

One of your choices was a beautiful jumpsuit in a dark, iridescent purple, snug with a long, flowing overlay that embraced your shoulders, waist, and gently flared down, creating a gown-like effect. The bottom of it could be fastened, but today, you decided to leave it unfastened, revealing your legs adorned in the shimmering material and high, comfortable heeled shoes.

Leaving your quarters, you made sure your makeup looked flawless and ran your fingers through your unruly, long waves that majestically cascaded down your shoulders like a curtain.

The stretch of the corridor you were walking along, leaving your room, seemed empty, but just around the corner, you heard a familiar noise that piqued your curiosity.

"Hey there? Buddy?" you muttered under your breath, taking a few more steps forward before leaning out from behind a nearby pillar.

"Don't tell me you've been waiting here the whole time!" You smiled, placing your hands on your hips, catching your favorite droid hiding behind the wall. R2-D2 let out a series of chaotic beeps.

"I know, I know, I didn't hear you at all from behind the door." Thank goodness. At least you know Anakin's talk about soundproof rooms wasn't just hot air."

"Did you distribute everything? Didn't miss anyone?" you asked, to which R2 responded with affirmative beeps.

"Good job, my friend. You've earned my gratitude." You patted the droid on the head, and he beeped triumphantly.

With R2's response, you continued forward, walking at a calm pace toward the landing platform where Anakin and the crew would soon arrive. Your heart raced at the thought of reuniting with your master after weeks of waiting, but you tried to suppress any tension within you enough not to arouse any suspicions.

Riding the elevator with the friendly droid, you ascended one floor, and just a few seconds after entering another corridor, you heard familiar footsteps and voices.

"I think we all need a day off." you heard Rex say as he walked in the middle between Obi-Wan and Skywalker.

"Tell that to Master Yoda." Obi-Wan replied jokingly, and the three men laughed, but their eyes quickly landed on you as you walked slowly in their direction.

"Gentlemen." you nodded in greeting and smiled slightly, noticing a certain kind of surprise on their faces.

"Good morning, Ma'am. You're blooming!" Rex greeted, admiringly looking at you, and Anakin glanced at him out of the corner of his eye.

"I have to agree with the Captain's words." Obi-Wan replied with a smile, which you immediately reciprocated.

"Thank you, General, thank you, Captain. It's a pleasure to finally see you. You too, Master." you said, standing tall, with your hands clasped behind your back, and your gaze finally landed on Anakin's eyes. Skywalker nodded, smiling at the corners of his mouth.

"Did you all receive invitations to tomorrow's ceremony? R2-D2 did his best to reach everyone." you asked with a smile, exchanging glances with the three of them.

"We all received them, and of course, we'll be there as a matter of duty. Thank you very much." Obi-Wan replied proudly, to which the rest of them smiled and nodded in agreement.

"I'm glad to hear that. I've heard rumors that your mission today was a success." you replied, wanting to show interest in what was happening around the temple.

"Absolutely. We're just heading to report with the Captain, and then, hopefully, it's time for some well-deserved rest." Kenobi answered, smiling warmly at Rex.

"And rightfully so. I've planned a very long day for tomorrow. Carry on with your duties, I won't keep you." you said, returning Kenobi's smile.

"General Skywalker, I assume that's all for today. We're leaving you with the Padawan." Rex replied before moving with Obi-Wan to the briefing room.

"Yes, I believe so. Give your report and head for some rest." Anakin responded, speaking for the first time during the conversation, and your gaze shifted toward him.

"Just don't kill each other." Kenobi quipped, turning in your direction as he and Captain Rex walked in the opposite direction of the corridor.

"We'll try." you sarcastically retorted, watching both men disappear from your sight.

"Hello, Master." you said to Skywalker when his friendly droid was the only one accompanying you.

"Hey." he responded with a warm tone, initially locking eyes with you, but after a moment, he looked you up and down.

You pretended not to notice his gaze, and though it was challenging to restrain a mischievous smile, you maintained a neutral expression. Anakin knelt down and glanced at his droid, almost as if checking to ensure that no harm had befallen him under your care.

"Missed him, did you?" you said, smiling at the sight of the Master and his faithful assistant.

"Thanks for looking after him." Anakin said, directing his gaze at you and then back at R2.

"It was a pleasure, as always. Besides, he performed quite well." you replied, still smiling.

"Was that so, R2? Did she do well too?" Anakin asked the droid, who beeped chaotically in response.

"All night? Seriously?" Skywalker retorted with feigned annoyance in his voice, turning his gaze to you and raising his eyebrows in surprise. Oh, shut up, you little troublemaker.

"Ooh, he came back in the night after distributing the invitations, and I was already asleep and didn't hear him through the door." you replied, narrowing your eyes at the droid who got you into this, to which Anakin smiled and stood up slowly.

"I'll punish her for that, I promise." he said, patting the droid on the head and pointing in the direction you both slowly started walking.

'I'll hold you to that promise.' you thought in your head as you walked alongside your two companions.

"Anyway, Master, I have two pieces of news: good and bad – which one do you want first?" you replied after a few silent steps, to which Anakin instantly sighed.

"Well, let's get the bad news out of the way first." he replied, turning his attention to you.

"So – it's not time for rest just yet. Yoda has planned a meeting with the younglings, and they're probably waiting for you already." Anakin sighed again and rolled his eyes.

"And the good news?"

"That's the last thing for today – unless the Separatists decide to change our plans – we're off duty for the rest of the day." You smiled, and Anakin's facial expression became slightly more optimistic.

"If you want, I can take R2 for a while, and you can deal with the younglings." you asked with a mischievous smile, subconsciously trying to avoid the tasks you didn't particularly enjoy.

"Oh no, not this time. You're coming with me. It's not just my show." Anakin immediately replied, knowing how much you would like to get out of it.

"Ouch." you muttered under your breath, and the expression on your face dropped.

"No sighing. Get it together, Padawan." Anakin smiled at the corners of his mouth and gave you a motivational nudge on the shoulder.

...................................................................................................................

Perhaps it was supposed to be your joint 'show,' but Anakin certainly struggled more with it. After the training and a long series of presenting new techniques along with answering the kids' questions, the group thanked both of you, and it was time for a well-deserved rest.

"I don't know about you, but I feel like I've been through the wringer." Anakin said, closing the training room door behind you.

Before leaving, you managed to tidy up, collect the props that had been brought from another location, and basically, all that was left was to return them to where they were taken from and head to your respective quarters.

"A bit better, but only a bit. After all, I wasn't the one on a mission today." you smiled, watching Anakin turn the key.

"Uh, right. This way." Skywalker directed, and you headed towards the storage room for training props.

The setting sun tinted the sky with a purple hue, and the temple was beautifully illuminated at this time, feeding your gaze with a beautiful view until you descended to the covered rooms one floor below, where the storage room awaited you. Soon, you emptied your hands there.

"I guess that's it." Anakin said, shaking off his hands and leaning against the wall in the dark room.

"I guess so." you replied, shrugging. Finally, you left the dingy room and closed the door behind you, heading in opposite directions.

"You should go and rest, and I... Well, I guess the first thing is to wash this off me." you said, turning away from Anakin, standing with your back to him. Your hands were dirty from the dust, and even your face had some unwanted spots that you gained inadvertently by touching it.

"Not just you." Anakin replied, pointing to the muddy traces on his clothes and skin.

"On me?" he added after a moment, and you didn't fully understand what he meant by that.

"What do you mean?" you asked.

"We can go to my place. Your quarters are on the other side of the Temple, mine's practically around the corner." Anakin clarified, and a green light lit up in your mind. You absolutely didn't want to finish this day alone, and truth be told, you were secretly hoping for it.

"Lead the way." you smiled, and without adding anything else, you headed towards Anakin's quarters, accompanied by R2, who was still with you.

Well, Anakin wasn't lying at all – his quarters were less than a minute away from the storage room, and as soon as you reached the door, you felt a certain kind of tension within you.

You remembered this place; you had been here for a moment when, a few years ago, at Kenobi's command, you had to find Anakin due to a sudden call from the crew. You recalled how much Skywalker didn't want you here – and what stuck in your memory the most was the sight of a woman, none other than Padmé Amidala. That day, you learned about their relationship, but that's already history.

"Come on in, feel free." Anakin's voice snapped you out of the flood of memories, and in the blink of an eye, you returned to reality. With slow steps, you entered the room, and behind you came your Master's friendly droid – well, at least it attempted to enter.

"R2, do me a favor, buddy." Skywalker said to the droid, who directed its indicators toward him as if it started to listen attentively.

"Stay outside and keep an eye in case someone unwanted would be lurking around, okay?" Anakin requested, to which the droid beeped in agreement and retreated behind the door.

"Thanks." he smiled and slowly closed the quarters' door.

Wait, didn't Anakin mention once that on his stretch of the corridor, nobody really hangs around because there's no reason to? Hm, anyway...

His quarters weren't just ordinary quarters. You stood in a spacious, beautifully, albeit somewhat dimly, decorated apartment with a kitchen, living room, bathroom, and a terrace – the latter particularly catching your attention.

The beautifully situated terrace revealed the best view of the cityscape, and in its secluded corner, there was a bar and a large jacuzzi, ingeniously incorporated into the robust structure of the building. On the other side of the terrace, you could see the balconies of guest apartments, which at the moment exuded emptiness.

Well... It's impressive.

"Today's a bit too cold for that." Anakin spoke from behind you as he saw you looking at the outdoor jacuzzi.

"But I can invite you in here." he added after a moment, gesturing for you to follow him, and headed to the bathroom. It was much more spacious than yours – besides the shower, there was also a bathtub, and frankly, you didn't know what you'd prefer for today.

Once both of you were inside, Anakin closed the door behind you and without hesitation began to remove his robes.

"Shit." he muttered under his breath, and you quickly noticed that his issue was with the fabric stuck to a wound, which, when pulled off, caused quite some discomfort.

"Let me..." you reached for his robes to do it more gently and as painlessly as possible.

"Well, at least somewhat lighter than last time..." you remarked, revealing rather fresh, though less extensive, wounds on his chest. It was worse when it came to bruises – you weren't surprised he felt like he'd been through the wringer.

"Have you checked this in the Med Bay? Something might be fractured..." you asked, looking with concern at the purplish marks on Skywalker's body.

"Nah, nothing major. Thanks." he replied, taking back his robes from you and tossing them into the laundry basket.

You weren't sure whether to start undressing yourself; you were sore too, though not for the same reasons as Anakin, and frankly, you didn't know how to tell him that today, there wouldn't be anything 'interesting' happening.

Skywalker, on the other hand, didn't hesitate to remove his pants and boxers, then took two towels from the hanger, tossing one in your direction.

"Won't you join?" he asked, stepping into the shower cabin. Finally, you tore your eyes away from the mirror where you examined your slightly stained face, and had to admit it to yourself again – his body was intimidating.

Your heart raced faster, and though you didn't know what to say, you took off the upper part of your jumpsuit, standing in front of Anakin in just tight pants. Skywalker scanned your bare chest, and before – as usual – you instinctively began to cover yourself, he pulled you into the – still dry – shower cabin.

"Still got that same tic, sunshine?" he whispered, standing very close, his face near yours, taking your waist in a strong grip.

"You have no idea what you did to me in this... outfit." he continued, bringing his face to your ear.

"But you know what's wrong?" he murmured, gently tilting your chin in his direction with a slight movement of his hand.

"That I haven't ripped the rest of your clothes off yet."

At that moment, you felt your back forcefully collide with the wall, and you let out a slight hiss, not even noticing when Anakin's hands reached for the zipper of your pants.

"Anakin, please, wait..." Although Skywalker's hands trembled with desire, your dramatic tone halted his further movements, and his eyes landed on yours.

"I... I can't." you said with a hint of disappointment in your voice.

"Why?"

"You know... I'm bleeding." you blushed, trying to gently withdraw Anakin's hands from your zipper.

"Darling, you know I really don't have a prob..." he started, but you quickly interrupted him,

"I know, but... Somehow I can't. And it hurts a bit too much..." you replied, and only after a moment did you process in your mind the term Anakin used to address you – 'Darling'... You felt like melting for a moment.

"I can leave your underwear on if that's okay with you, but just be here with me, okay?" he suggested.

"I mean... You can take everything off; I'm protected... We just won't..."

"Okay, sure..." he replied, and following your words, he slid your pants and underwear off.

When all the clothes were lying on the floor, Anakin closed the shower cabin's door and gently let the water flow. In the first moments, he didn't move, just watched. He watched as your body became increasingly wet and shimmered with water droplets falling onto it.

You made the first move, gently embracing him at the waist and nestling into the wet strands of hair falling on his shoulders. Soon, however, you felt as if some demon had awakened in Skywalker – his strong arms gripped you around the waist and turned you towards the wall, so you collided with it with your breasts, while Anakin pressed his body against yours from behind.

"You have no idea... Damn... You have no idea how you would fight for survival on this wall if I could fuck you right now." he muttered into your ear with a hoarse, needy voice, colliding with your body and simultaneously pressing you against the wall.

"You'd have worse bruises than mine, you know that???" You responded only with soft moans, feeling how his words ignited you from within. Suddenly, he turned your body back to face him.

"Kiss me." he whispered, and you didn't hesitate, just pressed your wet lips against his. The kiss lingered; when you ran out of breath, you pulled away for a second, so he could slip his tongue back into your mouth after a while.

Moment by moment, it became increasingly sloppy, and your hands wandered chaotically over each other's bodies. Soon, you parted your lips from each other—only a thin thread of your saliva separated them.

You looked at him and saw how painfully hard he was; you gently touched his lower abdomen when he didn't take his eyes off you.

"How can I take care of you?" you whispered, returning your gaze to your Master, who took a moment to think.

"Kneel."

One word was enough for you to start feeling like your heart was about to leap out of your chest. Without breaking eye contact with Anakin, you complied with his request and slowly bent down on your knees, ultimately kneeling before him on the wet shower floor.

He smiled at the corners of his mouth as his hand caressed your face, and his fingers traced a ticklish path across your cheeks. Finally, one of his fingers began to wander over your lips, eventually stopping and gently parting them.

"Open your mouth."

Obediently, you did as your master commanded, and although you expected something different, Anakin inserted two fingers into your mouth. Without taking his eyes off you, he slid them in as deep as possible, as if testing you.

He watched attentively every one of your grimaces, and the longer he looked, the more painful his desire became. When he 'prepared' your lips and felt he was on the edge, he withdrew his fingers from your mouth and pivoted his body closer, almost touching his length to your face.

"Do it for me." he whispered, and you swallowed saliva, wanting to please him in the best possible way but also fearing you wouldn't handle his massive size. To start, you wanted to assist yourself with your hands—placing them at the base—but he gently set them aside.

"For now, just your mouth, please." he muttered, and you nodded, placing your hands on his hips, trying not to squeeze too tightly around the bruised areas.

Finally, you took a deep breath and enveloped the tip of his erection with your lips, suctioning and teasing it lightly with your tongue. Anakin hissed softly, feeling the touch of your lips on his throbbing, sensitive point, while you gradually tried to test your boundaries.

You pressed your lips against his shaft and began maneuvering them with a sliding motion, so far unable to reach even halfway. Anakin's quiet moans were music to your ears, motivating you to maintain your pace—a pace he thought he had already outlined in his wicked plan.

Soon, you felt his trembling but strong fingers grabbing your hair, first with his mechanical hand, then adding the other, initially without applying pressure.

The sound of his deep, increasingly rapid breaths, the gentle stream of water, and the wet sound of your lips sliding along his length filled your ears—enough to make you feel ecstatic, but at the same time, you felt a blockage. You were afraid of choking, afraid of embarrassing yourself, and he knew it all along, piercing you not only with his gaze but also with his mind.

"D-do you remember what I said when we were heading to training?" he muttered above you, and you released him from your mouth for a moment to look at him questioningly.

"Do you mean..." you began to wonder, but he didn't let you.

"I promised to punish you." Hearing his words, you could simultaneously see something beastly awakening in him, and his dilated pupils buried in you widened.

"Take it." he growled, and you repositioned your mouth as before, continuing what you hadn't finished. Suddenly, you felt the pressure of his hands on your head, and your mouth filled even more.

Your eyes narrowed more and more, and your lips grew numb as his wicked smile spread across his face. Taking one of his hands off your head, he patted your cheek when you involuntarily crossed over half of his length, and tears welled up in your eyes. You thought you could somehow adjust your throat to him, but all that remained for you was to accept your fate when suddenly he began to fulfill what he desired so much. He thrust straight into your throat.

For a moment, it felt like you were falling apart, and when he did it a second time, the tears accumulated in your eyes instantly splashed onto your cheeks.

"Oh my... Fuck!" Anakin almost shouted, feeling how hopelessly you clenched onto him.

You were so overwhelmed by the intense sensation that it belatedly occurred to you that you were practically choking. Impulsively, you pulled away from Anakin, somehow overpowering the grip of his hands, but he still wasn't as strong as he planned.

"Don't even think..." he growled, thrusting again into your mouth, but before this—fortunately—you managed to quickly take a deep breath.

"Keep going... Just a bit more... -Fuck... A little more." he muttered, breathing heavily and trembling with excitement, watching you take his thrusts painfully.

You whimpered, choking on his length, and he fucked your face until your lips reached the very base. As he felt your trembling hands digging into his bruised hips, his loud moans mixed with growls, punishing you for it, pressing you against him so hard that he didn't even consider that you might vomit at any moment.

"I'm... Oh fuck... Oh f-fuck." Anakin began to choke on his own voice as he felt his orgasm approaching, and his back forcefully hit the shower wall as he tried to maintain balance.

His hands were numb as he climaxed, so when he didn't press you so hard anymore, you helped yourself with your hands, jerking him with great force until you finally felt his warm cum filling your mouth. His own throat muffled the screams he could have let out—he groaned and panted above you with clenched eyes until he emptied himself completely. When he finished, he grabbed the wall next to him to gain any balance.

You slumped hopelessly onto the wet shower floor, trying to catch your breath. Your makeup was smeared, and mascara ran down your face in numerous teary streaks. Both of you were detached from the galaxy at that moment—you had no strength for anything, not even to simply leave the shower. After a few minutes of regaining your breath, Anakin slowly turned off the water tap, and the only sound that reached his ears at that moment was your—still quite rapid—breathing.

When he felt less numb, he opened the shower door and, smoothing your back beforehand, carried you out of the cabin. You calmed down, feeling his pulsating chest so closely, and without saying anything—without even having the strength—you simply waited for the next scenario.

Exiting the bathroom, he immediately guided you towards the spacious bed that awaited just around the corner, and the next thing you felt was the touch of a soft mattress.

After gently placing you on the bed, Anakin handed you a blanket, which he eventually decided to spread himself. Before lying down, he sat beside you, smiling at the corners of his mouth at the sight of your exhausted face.

"Now it's time to rest."

[stjernehiimmel]

Hiii!

Can I ask anything rlly for a LYNEY x reader where reader buys emilies perfume (the new character, he has a VOICELINE how he really likes it but didn’t get it cause it was too strong for Lynette’s cat senses) and wears it? Like not in an nsfw way but in a sfw way. Ty!!

hi! thank u so much for the first request on this blog :) and yes omg that sounds so cute! i havent read much up on emilie, but i wrote that shes got a little boutique or something where she sells her perfumes :)

Lyney - You smell so good.

You knew Lyney liked this perfume, as he had been talking about it for such a long time now. You thought that you might as well buy it for him, since... Well, he's given you a lot of gifts lately and you want to make him surprised and happy too.

You had somehow kept this a surprise, as you made your way to Emilie's boutique.

"Are you sure this is the one, Emilie?" you asked the said woman in front of you and to that, she nodded.

"Yes, Lyney loved this one," Emilie started to explain, turning around to the shelf behind her, which had all sorts of perfumes on display and grabbed one. "He wanted to buy it so badly, but said something about his sister's senses... I figured he would forget about the perfume, but I'm guessing since you're here, then... He's been talking about it." she turned back to you and smiled.

"Yeah, Lyney's been rambling about it pretty much nonstop for the past few days," you said, smiling back. "How much is it?"

Emilie placed the perfume on the counter - the perfume was neatly packed in a little box, with a shimmery ribbon wrapped around it.

"450 mora," she said, but then seemed to think about her answer. "Actually, because it's you, then let's say 400."

You paid for the perfume and said thank you to Emilie for holding onto it for you, then left the boutique to look for Lyney.

---------

Eventually you found him in a popular tourist spot, casually performing some magic tricks for a little crowd of amazed children, while their parents where standing a bit further back and watched.

Of course, you waited until he was done performing. And once the children ran away to go and try some magic tricks of their own, you walked up to Lyney with your little gift behind your back.

"Lyney, I got something for you," you beamed at him. "Can you guess what it is? You've been speaking about it nonstop."

Lyney clasped his hands together and stared at you expectantly, with a big smile on his face.

"Ohhh, hmm..." he started, looking like he was thinking really hard about it, but honestly, knowing him, he already knew what it was. "Is it maaaybe that perfume I haven't been able to shut up about?"

"Ding ding ding!!" you brought out the gift from behind your back and held it out to Lyney, to which his cheeks instantly turned red. Did he not expect it? Or was he just flustered that you actually thought of him?

"Woah, I was right! Who am I kidding, a magician's guess is never wrong!" he took the gift into his hands and looked at you carefully, as if waiting for confirmation to open it. You laughed at him and nodded.

He carefully untied the ribbon and then opened the box, smiling all over his face as he took the perfume bottle up from the box.

"Thank you so much, Y/N! That's really thoughtful of you."

"You're welcome, Lyney. I hope it's the right one. I asked Emilie and she said it was that one you liked." you said.

Lyney seemed to look at it for a few seconds, before holding it out to you.

"Try it on. I think I'll like it better on you."

Your face instantly turned red upon hearing that and you stutter out a few incoherent words.

Lyney just gave a chuckle at your cute reaction and took the cap off of the bottle, then gently grabbed your wrist and spritzed a bit of the perfume on it.

"Let's see..." he said and moved your wrist up to his face, sniffing at the scent of the perfume. "Hmm... Yep! That's definitely the one! Wow, it smells even better on you."

You were speechless.

[its-vannah]

Being in a relationship with Eddie Roundtree | Headcannons

A/N: Blurring the lines between the book and show rn, forgive me

Daisy Jones and The Six Masterlist

- You and Eddie met while the band was on break between their first tour and the recording of Look at Us Now (Honeycomb)

- He was instantly smitten with you

- You were one of the first girls who looked past Billy and had a soft spot for him instead

- He finally got over Camila after meeting you, something he didn't think would ever happen

- Your relationship was still pretty new when he went on the Seven-Eight-Nine tour, so you only went to local shows, namely the ones in LA and San Francisco.

- He called you one night from his hotel room, fuming because Billy had taken his guitar out of his hands and played with Daisy. You talked him through it and eventually got him to calm down. He told you he loved you before he hung up.

- When the band started recording Aurora, you were in the sound booth every day supporting Eddie in any way you could. Chances were, Billy did something to piss him off in some way. Everyone relied on you to deescalate the situation. You'd talk to him about it and tell him not to let anyone disrespect him but that Billy was the front man at the end of the day.

- He opened up to you about going to bass and how it really affected what he thought of the band. Don't get him wrong, he loved the band, he just felt like he was out of place there.

- When the Aurora World Tour started, you came to their first few shows, standing backstage as they performed. You were out of sight of the audience, but in Eddie's line of view. Every once in a while, he'd look over at you and smile while he played. The audience took note of this and the fans who were sitting on the far right side saw you standing there. It was in the tabloids that Eddie Roundtree had a serious girlfriend the next day, something the two of you had tried to keep under wraps for a while.

- You actually received a bit of aggression from fans who claimed they were in love with Eddie. One time, when he took you out to a date on one of his off days, things got intense with a fan who was following you back to the hotel the two of you were at. The cops were called and they took care of it, but the two of you decided you would head back to LA early for your safety.

- Camila picked you up from the airport and you couldn't help but fall apart in the passengers seat of her car. She comforted you through the strains being in a band and having adoring fans put on relationships, sharing struggles she had with Billy. It was then that you and Camila became as thick as thieves, as you were the only partners of anyone in the band—you didn't know about Karen and Graham yet and Daisy and Nicky were still waiting to come.

- You did, however, rejoin them on the road when they got back to the U.S. after a little over a month of being gone.

- Unbeknownst to you, Eddie had bought a ring at a boutique in Paris. It was at the bottom of his suitcase, tucked between his jeans.

- You were there when everything went down in Chicago. You sat in the audience this time and as soon as the show was over, you went backstage, sensing the tension between everyone. The security guard stopped you at first, but you told him you were with Eddie, but he held you back by the arms.

- Eddie saw what was happening and yelled at the security guard to "let go of his wife", not realizing what he was saying until he said it. When he let go of you, you ran to Eddie, hugging him and asking if he was okay.

- He tells you he doesn't know how much longer the band is going to last.

- That night, in his hotel room, he proposes to you. You say yes, pulling him into a kiss.

- When Eddie finds out the band broke up, he's devastated. He loved music, although the band, in his words, "had gone to shit" by the end of the tour. He revealed he'd miss the thrill of being on stage.

- You ask him what he's going to do now, and he just tells you he has to think about it. He wants to be working before the two of you get married so he can provide for you.

- When he becomes a record producer, the light in his eyes comes bac. The two of you get married a few months later. Because you loved Camila, she and Billy come with their three daughters, who are all flower girls in the wedding. At the end, trying to mend old wounds, Billy congratulates the two of you and wishes you the best. Graham also comes, bringing his girlfriend along. Warren shows up, albiet a little high, to support Eddie. Daisy doesn't want to cause any problems with Billy and Camila, so she stays away. Karen doesn't come either, already working on her own music.

- The two of you move into your own house in LA. This is the same home you bring your son into, and later your daughter.

- You and Eddie live out with music on your mind and love in your hearts, reminiscing about the good old days.

[arthropod-concoctions]

Has my luck turned?

Day eight at the mall, and Tango had to say, he was getting pretty comfortable. The fourth floor contained an electronics store, a furniture boutique, and a big supermarket with fridges that were miraculously both still functioning, and still stuffed with food and drinks. Most of it wasn't healthy, of course, but victims of the apocalypse couldn't be choosers, and with the amount of running from monsters and crazy people he'd done in the past year, Tango felt he'd earned the right to have instant burgers and soda for dinner for a week. He sat down on a soft chair with his freshly microwaved cheap meal, reached into his backpack, and grabbed the radio that he'd taken from the electronics store. He turned it on and twiddled with the frequencies until he found the only channel that still worked: the one where someone who'd broken into the radio station had been rambling whatever came to his mind into the microphone for at least the last week. Tango listened to today's story, seemingly an anecdote from the guy's high school life, as he ate.

“...so, yeah, that's how we got crowned 'cutest couple' in the yearbook despite being literally one week from a breakup.” the man laughed. “God. I'm getting loopy, I need to find something to eat. Signing off, i have been Martyn Littlewood as usual, and if... if you're an actual person hearing this, please come look for me at the radio station in Midcanyon. Please. I need to know I'm not losing my mind here. Alright, bye by-”

A crack, and then Tango was alone with the static and his lukewarm meal again.

Briefly, he considered going out to find the radio station, but he quickly discarded the idea. That sounded like something a competent and heroic person would do, and if there was one thing he'd learnt the past year, it was that he was neither of those things. Well, that wasn't entirely fair. He'd been pretty heroic when he joined team BEST. And he'd done some good things in the-- what was it, a month?-- where they were actually helping people. And it was hardly his fault that brain demons had started to show up, and one got to Bdubs, and then to everyone but Tango, and then- Tango exhaled through gritted teeth. Replaying it all in his head wouldn't help now any more than it had the past hundred times. That chapter's over now, for better or worse. He finished eating, stuffed the radio back into his pack, then got up to put his plate into a garbage bin that hadn't overflown yet. Maybe he should try emptying the bins at some point. Then, at least he could say he was still some kind of positive influence on-

The ground rumbled.

“Oh, god, not again!” Tango dropped his plate on the ground, and looked around frantically. He didn't see anything breaking just yet, but the rumble wasn't getting any softer, and earthquakes were not common occurrences in the area. Whatever was happening now was almost certainly another Disaster. After probably a few seconds too many just standing there, Tango made a decision: he had to get out of here. He began running to the exit of the store. As soon as he crossed the doorway into the main hallway of the mall, the entire building shuddered, and Tango distantly heard windows shattering. Tango yelped, but didn't stop running. Stairs, stairs, he had to get to the stairs- He reached the stairs and ran down to the third floor. He continued on to the second floor, but then slipped and fell down the last three steps like an idiot. He hissed, partly because his knee hurt, partly from frustration. Alright, no time to feel sorry! Keep moving! He got to his feet again, heaving heavy breaths, and stepped down the next stair- A flow of honest-to-god lava sloshed at the bottom of the staircase, seemingly coming up from a crack in the ground. Tango skidded to a halt. Oh. Well, nevermind then, Tango thought. Guess I'll just die in here. He felt a wave of heat from the lava and instinctively stepped back up the stairs. He turned, around, stepped back into the hallway, and- Something feathery crashed into him from the side. Oh, great. There were monsters as well. Tango fell down, wisely used all his breath to scream at the top of his lungs, and reached for the pistol that he'd pilfered from somewhere months ago and had just been hanging uselessly on his belt since then. A gun wouldn't do much against lava, or the other nonsense he'd dealt with, but it'd probably deal well with a feathery monster. Although, looking up again, the figure that crashed into him didn't look too monstrous. Actually, that just looked like a person who'd also been knocked to the ground. A blond man, with yellow feathers growing out of his face and arms, with wide eyes and his hands raised.

A canary. Right. Some people were having an even worse time with the apocalypse than Tango.

“Oh, you're a person!” Tango said, though not much sound came out of his throat. He immediately took his hand off the gun again. “Sorry.” He hadn't seen anyone else in this area for a while.

The canary mouthed something in response, and got up. Tango watched him approach the staircase, go down one step, and freeze, exactly as he'd done.

“Yeah, no. That's not the way to happiness. We're sort of screwed here,” Tango said, as he got to his feet as well.

The canary turned to Tango and said something, pointing his thumb backwards.

“What?” Tango said, like a fool. Canaries couldn't speak during Disasters. That was pretty much their whole thing. “Sorry, I don't know any sign language.”

The canary repeated the gesture, pointing and mouthing more exaggeratedly this time. After a second, he just turned around and began jogging down the hallway. Tango decided to wager that he was probably saying 'follow me', and followed. That proved to be harder than expected; the floors shook irregularly, making it hard to keep his balance, and his knee still hurt. Tango was panting again by the time he caught up to the canary; the man had been waiting at an emergency exit.

He opened the door when Tango reached him, and the two left the building onto a metal staircase. Tango looked at the scenery outside. The mall looked out over a massive parking lot leading out onto what used to be the road network, but was now just a slab of asphalt intermittently cracked by dandelions-- having broken through slowly but steadily for the past year-- and lava, which was doing the same thing in the span of minutes. It seemed to be seeping out of the ground from cracks which were expanding in length, but not in width. In fact, one of the cracks was snaking dangerously close to the foundations of the mall...

A horrendous metallic screeching snapped Tango out of his stupor. Right. He was supposed to be escaping. He followed the canary down the staircase- Ah. The cause of the horrible noise had been the bottom stairs curling upwards, getting bent out of shape by the heat and the pressure of the lava coming up at the exact place where the staircase touched the ground. Or in other words, right in the middle of the only route of escape the two of them had.

Tango laughed. What else was he supposed to do? He'd gone from having a lovely life in a giant mall ahead of him to almost certainly dying in the very same mall in, what, five minutes? The building shook again. Tango looked over at the canary, who was gripping the handrails of the stairs with both hands, leaning over.

Tango walked over to him and slapped him on the shoulder. “Well, it was nice knowing you, friend. Sorry about the-”

The canary suddenly reached over and grabbed Tango's hand, clearly wanting to get his attention. Tango looked at him, and he mouthed something; again, Tango didn't know what, but it seemed like the last word was 'back'. His eyes were wide.

“We can't go back, dude,” Tango replied, hazarding a guess at what the man was trying to say. “There's just more fire and sadness back there.”

The canary shook his head, frustration visible on his face. He brought a hand to his forehead and closed his eyes, still muttering something. Tango shrugged apologetically.

Then the canary took a deep breath in and out, grabbed both of Tango's arms, and... wrapped them around himself?

“Oh. Uh... okay,” Tango stammered, now hugging the man. “Look, I know this is a heated moment and all, but-”

The canary spread out his arms and jumped backwards, pulling Tango with him; then they were falling.

“HEY!” Tango yelled, now holding on to the canary for dear life. He'd seen how far above the ground they were; too far to survive a fall like this unscathed. He really hoped the other man had a plan- The man waved his arms, and their descent slowed considerably. Surprised, Tango turned his head to the side; the yellow feathers which had been laying flat on the man's arms earlier were now standing straight up, and apparently catching a good amount of air. He continued flapping, and they were definitely still falling, not flying, but it seemed like they might...

Tango heard the canary's legs hitting the ground a moment before he felt his own landing; bolts of pain shot through both of his legs this time. They buckled, and he fell forwards, his fall being unfortunately cushioned by the canary's body.

He rolled to the side until his backpack stopped him, then let out another scream for good measure. “What is wrong with you!?” he yelled in the canary's direction.

He didn't respond; his eyes were squeezed shut, and his face contorted with pain. Tango immediately regretted saying that. “Nevermind. Sorry. Thanks for saving my life. uh...” he stood up and swiveled his head around to look at the lava, which was still coming up from the ground all around them. The heat was already making Tango sweat. He held out his hand to the canary. “Can you walk? We should probably get out of here.”

the canary nodded and took his hand, and Tango pulled him up. Then they hobbled their way out of the molten labyrinth, as fast as their aching legs could take them.

* * * * *

The disaster ended almost as abruptly as it started; pretty soon after Tango and his new buddy had made it out of the parking lot, the lava seeping from the ground slowed, then stopped. When the ground had properly stopped rumbling, the canary slowed his pace, then all but collapsed onto the soil. Tango decided to follow his example.

“Whew,” Tango exclaimed as he sat down. “Guess that's my exercise for the day done.” He looked over at the canary, who was panting just as he was. He held out his hand. “I'm Tango, by the way. Hi.”

The canary looked at him, grinned, then took his hand and shook it. His lips moved, but sound still wasn't coming out.

While most of the disasters that kicked off the end of the world had been unique and highly localised, the emergence of canaries seemed to have been a worldwide phenomenon. Tango hadn't actually met any in person up until now, but he'd heard enough accounts of it to know how it happened. On the 17th of June, 2022, for no apparent reason, about one percent of Earth's population lost their voices and suddenly had yellow feathers burst out of their arms and faces. A few minutes later, hell broke loose. It turned out their mutism wasn't permanent, but rather only happened when in proximity of the Disasters that would plague the world constantly starting the very same day. The 'canaries', as people began to call them, were blamed for the Disasters at first, even as they swore to have nothing to do with it all. People thought they were aliens, or demons, or even experimental super-soldiers created by the government; whatever would fit into their desperate attempts to explain the end of the world. Tango never really bought any of those explanations. Life's a bitch, is what he'd say, and it seemed to him like the canaries were just exceptionally unlucky people on an even unluckier planet. And having met the man sitting next to him only solidified that perception.

Tango's mouth was dry. He reached into his backpack and pulled out a plastic bottle full of water. “Lugging this thing around for a week is finaly paying off,” he said, took a few sips of water, then offered the bottle to the canary. He took it eagerly and immediately drained almost all the water that was inside.

“Wow, thanks for leaving some for later,” Tango said flatly. Then he saw the canary's face drop and quickly backpedaled: “Oh, don't worry about it! There were plenty of bottles in the mall, I can go back and get some more...”

He looked back towards the oversized building. It was now standing slightly crooked, one half of the top few floors had collapsed, and there seemed to be flames flickering in the busted windows. “Yeah... I can totally just go do that. Won't be a problem.”

And indeed, Tango went to do that. It wasn't as bad as he imagined; a good amount of the mall was still accessible, and right at the entrance there was a shop who's aisles-- and floors, thanks to the earthquakes-- still held anything you might need on a 24-hour drive, or a few weeks in anarchy if you camped out here. It was kind of eerie, how untouched everything was. Like the world had been just fine until yesterday. But whatever blessing or curse had kept everything that way had been broken today, along with every fridge in the building. Tango wouldn't be able to survive here much longer. So he ventured as far into the mall as he could, trying to decide what necessities to take with him. The canary quietly followed him along. At first Tango tried to make some conversational comments as he went, but it was hard to stay quippy with an audience that couldn't respond and an imminent relocation hanging over your head, so eventually they just continued in silence.

While they were making their way across a particularly messy corridor, the canary tripped over something and exclaimed in pain. “Watch your step, dude,” Tango commented. Then he registered what had actually just happened and spun around. “Hey, your voice is back!”

A smile appeared on the canary's face. “I can talk!” he exclaimed; and his voice caught Tango off guard.

“You're British?” he asked, before he could stop himself.

“I-” the canary paused for a moment, a baffled expression on his face. Then he tilted his head backwards and began laughing.

“'You're British',” the man repeated between wheezes, leaning against an aisle. “We can finally properly talk, and that's the first thing you say to me. Oh my gosh.”

“I... I wasn't expecting that, is all,” Tango replied weakly, pressing a hand against his neck. “Sorry, that was rude.”

The canary raised a hand to stop him. “No, dude, don't worry about it. It was funny.” When he'd recovered from his laughing fit, he opened his eyes and looked at Tango. “My name's Jimmy, by the way.”

Tango nodded. “Jimmy. Alright, cool,” he said. “Uh...”

Okay, the excuse of his conversation partner being mute didn't work anymore. Maybe Tango was just socially incompetent.

“Right,” Jimmy said. “Well, I guess we'd better continue packing. Anything else you need?”

“Hmmm...” Tango glanced into his now bulging backpack. “I dunno. I guess just as many cans and bottles as will fit in here.”

Jimmy shrugged. “Looks pretty full to me, not gonna lie.”

“Yeah, i guess, but-” Tango sighed. “I dunno. I have no idea when my next chance to restock like this is gonna be, so I don't wanna waste anything, you know?”

“Plenty of people have set up farms and ranches and stuff around the countryside. You could probably stop by one of those and get more stuff in exchange for chores or something,” Jimmy said.

Tango nodded along. “Yeah, you're probably right. And it's probably better not to travel too heavy...”

“Hey, on the other hand,” Jimmy interjected, making a finger gun motion with his hand, “If you bring a couple extra cans you can throw them at raiders.”

Tango barked out a laugh at that. He appreciated the joke-- and the advice. It was nice having somebody to talk to, even if only for a little while.

“Well, that's a plan then. Alright, how about one more meal in here before we... go on our ways?” Tango asked.

“Uh... yeah, that sound good, yeah,” Jimmy replied. Tango thought he sounded a bit disappointed, but he decided not to read into it. The canary seemed to know what he was doing, and Tango wasn't about to just... insert himself into the guy's plans.

The two of them made their way over to a soft sitting spot in the mall's hallway, bringing two more cans of food from the shop to eat right now. As Jimmy cracked them open using a shard of glass, Tango pulled his radio out of his backpack. “You listened to the radio lately?” he asked Jimmy.

“No. Is it still working?”

“There's just one guy who broke into a radio station, I guess, and he just rambles into the mic now,” Tango explained, and again he turned the knobs on the radio until he heard some barely-on-key singing:

“You gotta knoow, you have to fiight, learn to play, there's monsters day and night~”

Tango chuckled, but when he looked at Jimmy to see his reaction, he wasn't laughing. His face had gone pale.

“That's- I know him!” he exclaimed, pointing at the radio.

“Wait, really?” Tango replied.

“Yeah, he- he's a friend of mine. I lost track of him after the apocalypse happened, I thought he- oh gosh,” Jimmy continued, then clamped his hand over his mouth.

“Jeez,” Tango said. “You know, he keeps saying- he keeps asking people to come and find him at the radio tower in Midcanyon. I wasn't gonna do it, but maybe-”

“I have to go find him,” Jimmy finished the sentence, while turning off the radio. “I have to. W-” Jimmy stopped himself, and looked Tango in the eyes.

And Tango-- look, he just said he wasn't gonna insert himself into Jimmy's plans, but that was a decision made mostly out of self-preservation. He doubted Jimmy would want to continue dealing with him, and if he was gonna have to spend the rest of his probably short life wandering around alone, he'd rather do it with pride than thinking back to an embarrassing misunderstanding the whole time. But looking at Jimmy now, he was starting to think that was a stupid decision.

So he made the gamble: “Do... you want me to go with you?”

Jimmy's shoulders visibly sagged with relief. “Yeah, I- I'd love that, actually. Thanks.”

“Not a problem, dude!” Tango replied quickly, cheering internally. “You saved my life, I've gotta repay that somehow, and if- honestly, this seems like a better deal for me than it is for you.”

“Are you kidding!?” Jimmy exclaimed. “You're the one with food and a radio- and a gun! You've got it all figured out!”

Tango laughed. “If that's what you think, you might regret this arrangement real soon, just a warning.”

Jimmy chuckled at the joke-- and it suddenly hit Tango how long, before meeting Jimmy, it'd been since he had seen a genuine human smile. Team BEST had been a joyless group, in its last couple days, and then he'd been alone for god knows how long. But now he was hanging out with Jimmy, and hopefully, with Martyn soon.

Look at me, making friends and having goals in my future! Tango thought as he scooped dry vegetables out of the can Jimmy had handed him. Maybe my life won't be as futile as I thought.

[humaudrey]

Descendants Scene Rewrite - Meeting The VKs (Part 1)

Auradon Prep's marching band played a typical, upbeat and positive song fitting for a student's first day, swaying to the beat of their own drum. From behind the marching band, nearby the school statue, Zephyr's shoulders joined them and were in sync with the band.

Ben nudged Melody with his free arm, and gestured toward Zephyr. The two shared a small laugh, mimicking his movements despite the amused and confused looks from Seth and Audrey. They couldn't blame him, the trio had waited for this day for years. Today was only the beginning.

The black limo had suddenly driven past the school sign and made its way in front of the dormitory building. Students and staff who greeted the newcomers at the front gate had marched behind them, waving blue and yellow flags rapidly and eagerly with smiles before joining their peers by the dorms and the main school building.

The driver parked in front of the drop off area, and hastily opened the door.

Everyone's smiles and happy demeanor had died with the music. Immediately, two boys fell out of the limo door, grunting as they tugged at a blue towel. Despite the size difference, the smaller, white haired boy had managed to put up a fair fight against the tan, long dark brown haired individual in the burgundy beanie.

"You got–everything else, why do you want whatever this is?"

"Because you want it! Give it–"

"No–"

The two continued to roll toward the rear end of the limo before the beanie wearer managed to gain an advantage. He straddled the boy with his knees on the other's waist and they continued their vicious game of tug of war.

The marching band cleared a path for Fairy Godmother and the other five, who cautiously walked a few steps forward.

"Hey, get off of him!" Zephyr yelled.

"Zephyr, sweetie, let's not–"

Fairy Godmother was too late. Zephyr ran and pushed the beanie wearer off, only managing to cause the tug of war over the towel to get even more violent. Zephyr had found himself intertwined in their tussle and the three continued to venture more to the right of the limo, with Fairy Godmother pacing behind the three and pleading for them to stop.

Once the four were a good distance away from the door, the driver beckoned for the others to depart for the limo.

The next person was a girl dressed in blue leather, who stole everyone else's attention away from the scuffle. Save for her fair complexion, and her poison apple red lipstick, most of her was blue, including her softly curled hair. Her brown eyes lit up like fireworks as she spun–no, twirled–around the area a few times. She faced Ben and the others and greeted them with a deep curtsy in her black graphic skirt, and Ben found himself replying back with a charmed smile. Her posture and poise had rivaled that of any princess Auradon had ever produced. Her stance was perfect, almost too perfect, like a mannequin in a dress boutique or an action figure whose ballpoint joints were forcibly pushed to create the perfectly still pose. One of the band members had turned to look back at Seth. His eyes bounced back from the blue haired girl to him. Seth smirked and subtly nodded back in reply, and the eyes behind the trumpet player's glasses widened in horror.

Another girl followed after, but she was much more hesitant. She peaked her head out the door, and covered her eyes with her hand as if someone had shined a flashlight in her face. As she made it out of the limo, Audrey felt a nervous lump forming in her throat. She recognized that specific, unnatural yet beautiful shade of green in the girl's eyes from anywhere. Her purple hair and the purple and green leather ensemble with dragon insignias were dead giveaways as well, and the look of disgust as she surveyed the dorm building only made the resemblance to her that much more apparent. The girl in purple caught the gaze of another band member, a French horn player, staring at her. Though, unlike the others, he looked...interested?

Suddenly, the French horn player flinched as yet another person in the limo shoved the girl in purple forward so they could get out. Catching herself from eating asphalt, she turned to repay the favor. The person responsible cackled manically before winking at the four future monarchs almost in a flirtatious manner.

Yet another boy, who coincidentally also wore a shade of red like the other two boys before him, and the tallest one so far. He was a brunette, with beautiful blue eyes that popped thanks to his black eyeliner. Unlike the other four villain kids, he seemed to be dressed more like a–

"Pirate," Melody murmured to herself. His dingy scarlet leather trench coat that shined under the sun, the truffled white blouse underneath, the tethered pants, the boots, Melody scanned over his entire ensemble several times. He was definitely a pirate. And if he was a pirate–

He had to be the son of Captain Hook, the man who killed Melody's grandmother.

"Woah, pretty!" let out another voice from the limo.

Melody's eyes darted back to the next person, another boy. He had a similar pirate style to the previous; an orange and brown leather steampunk styled shirt, tethered jeans, and black boots. He was much tanner than the other pirate and the combination of his skin complexion and his wavy blonde hair underneath his brown bandana reminded Melody of the surfers back at Seaside, though, most of the surfers weren't as buff. Despite his stature, size, and getup, and the fact he was from the Isle; he glanced at the other people scattered around him and waved at each individual with a welcoming smile that competed with the sun.

"Hello?!" called out an impatient voice.

Both of the pirate boys immediately turned back to the opened limo door, a black leather gloved hand reaching out, as if it–or, she, Melody assumed–was waiting for one of the two to grab it.

The red pirate grabbed the right hand, and the orange and brown pirate grabbed the other she lent, and the two properly escorted her out.

Melody's stomach dropped to her toes. The first thing she noticed were the long turquoise braids underneath a black pirate hat. Her black, turquoise, and purple fishnet and leather dress that complimented her deep brown skin implied she was a pirate too. No, not just a pirate, a captain. Their captain; the looks of pride and admiration on the other pirates' faces as if she were their goddess made that obvious. Her hardened face with such familiar facial features resembled that of a soldier going to war, and the confidence in the few steps she made in her heeled boots suggested she'd be the sole victor. The smoking gun that tipped Melody off about the identity of the pirate captain was the all too familiar gold Nautilus necklace that hung near her chest.

She was Ursula's daughter, and subsequently, Morgana's niece.

Melody thought she was ready for this, but her shivering body disagreed with her. Did she hate Melody for what her parents did? Or for sabotaging her aunt's attempt at opening the barrier and freeing her and the rest of the Isle inhabitants? Did she want revenge? Was that the original necklace?

As if the sea witch pirate captain heard the haunting thoughts in Melody's head, her brown eyes locked with Melody's. Like the rest of her surroundings, she gave Melody a careful and slow look over, examining every molecule that made up Melody's entire being.

A sudden, soft yet high-pitch ringing noise caused Melody to look down at her necklace. The gold seashell pendant was glowing, despite the lack of water needed for it to work, and it floated outward lazily. Melody glanced back at the sea witch pirate captain, only to find that the Nautilus pendant had done the same, glowing and floating outward toward Melody as if their necklaces were magnetic.

This was a first for Melody, but she never had the opportunity to meet others with enchanted jewelry other than her siblings. The sea witch pirate captain silently laughed and winked in Melody's direction while tucking away her pendant necklace under her dress. That answered one of Melody's questions at least.

Both of their necklaces had calmed down but Melody only continued to shiver, clasping her hands together tight like stress balls. Every cell in her brain told Melody to run, while every vein in her heart wanted her to stick it out.

"–and as we always say, leave it like you found it."

Melody looked back at Fairy Godmother making her way back to her group. The two boys from earlier dragged their feet over to the rest of the Isle inhabitants. The shorter boy was quite fashionable, in red, white, and black, with brown freckles like Dalmatian spots covering his unamused face. The taller boy dusted off his burgundy and yellow vest before he slowly made his way to the makeshift welcoming committee.

Zephyr was right on Fairy Godmother's tail, his head hung low with his hands in his pockets, unaware of the beanie wearer's presence.

[agendabymooner]

his family and her lover ! george r. x ofc (alessandro sister!fashion designer!ofc)

summary: the people who criticized her seemed to have forgotten that she was a mother first and george russell’s older girlfriend second. OR the british mercedes driver already embraced his role as her children’s father the moment he met them and while everyone’s talking about it, nora alessandro’s more than okay with that.

content warning: use of explicit language, mentions of past emotionally abusive marriage (nothing graphic) misogyny, fluff, stepdad!george = dad!george, single mom!ofc, h8rs gonna h8, five year age gap, just a series of posts from dad!george, intro to nora alessandro (ofc)

note: if we can easily bag a driver could you just imagine being able to bag arthur leclerc? he’s only four years my senior. anyways, i hope you like this george russell post because i’ve been holding off on it for hecking weeks.

masterlist

THE FAST LANE DAILY

NORA ALESSANDRO: A FASHION WEEK DEBUT EMPOWERING WOMEN AND DEFYING STEREOTYPES

in the world of fashion, there are stories that go beyond the glitz and glamour of the runway. one such story is that of kara eleanora alessandro, affectionately known as nora. at the age of 32, nora recently hosted her first fashion week show, marking a significant milestone in her journey as a fashion designer. this article delves into nora's inspiring story of resilience, empowerment, and her commitment to promoting feminism and individuality through her clothing brand, karanora.

from boutiques to fashion week

nora's path to fashion week was not an easy one. for a decade, she tirelessly ran two boutiques in milan and tuscany, dreaming of becoming a successful fashion designer. along the way, she faced personal challenges, including a divorce and a custody battle for her two children. nora's unwavering determination, coupled with the support of her family, helped her overcome these obstacles.

a new beginning in london

when the opportunity finally arose, nora seized it and moved to london with her children. it was in this vibrant city that she established her business headquarters for karanora, a clothing brand that would soon capture the attention of fashion enthusiasts. despite being based in the uk, nora's italian roots remained an integral part of her brand's identity.

breaking stereotypes with suits

nora's first clothing collection showcased suits and three-piece ensembles designed for everyone, with a particular emphasis on empowering women. this collection held a personal significance for nora, as she had been discouraged from wearing suits by her ex-husband, who deemed them too masculine for her. through her designs, nora aimed to challenge societal norms and promote the freedom of self-expression.

a powerful fashion show

nora's debut fashion show was an emotional and empowering event. in her speech, she shared the inspiration behind her collection, expressing her desire for her children to grow up with the freedom to express themselves through their clothing choices. her words resonated with the audience, highlighting the importance of feminism and individuality.

support from the f1 community

nora's connection to the f1 community added an extra layer of significance to her fashion show. notable figures, including her brother-in-law, f1 driver daniel ricciardo, were in attendance. some f1 drivers even wore customized and tailored clothing from karanora. among the guests was f1 mercedes driver george russell, who had been dating nora for two years. george proudly wore a suit personally crafted by nora, showcasing his support for her brand and her vision.

navigating controversy

unfortunately, nora's newfound success was met with criticism from her ex-husband, martin lombardi, a low-level celebrity in italy. lombardi expressed disapproval of nora's choices, including her decision to move the children to the uk and her relationship with george russell. however, george remained unfazed by the comments, emphasizing that nora had been the sole parent to their children before he entered their lives. he spoke of his admiration for nora's hard work and dedication to her brand and family.

nora alessandro's journey from running boutiques in italy to hosting her first fashion week show in london is a testament to her resilience and determination. through her brand, karanora, nora promotes feminism, individuality, and the freedom to express oneself through fashion. her debut fashion show was a powerful statement, inspiring women and challenging societal stereotypes. with the support of her loved ones and the f1 community, nora continues to make her mark in the fashion industry, empowering others to embrace their true selves.

tagged nora_alessandro

liked by danielricciardo, landonorris, oscarpiastri

user1 cr*dle robber 🤢

user2 she’s giving gold digger ngl

user3 a girlfriend with two kids? yeah she’s def tryna get that bag

user4 best nora content ever ❤️🥰

user5 miiiiilf 😩

landonorris i’m surprised she lasted longer with you 😕 liked by georgerussell63

georgerussell63 a simple congratulations would’ve sufficed but thank you lando!

danielricciardo ok maybe occasionally you’re my favourite brit. happy anniversary to you two! liked by georgerussell63

georgerussell63 something nice? loricciardo your husband must have a fever

danielricciardo i take it back 😒 there’s a reason why lando is beau’s godfather

colabebe soooo sweet!!! 😍😍 happy anniversary georgie porgie and nora!!! liked by georgerussell63

nora_alessandro grazie, mia cara! non consiglierei di chiamarlo così perché lo odia e izzie ha l'abitudine di copiare le parole di sua zia 🤣❤️ i wouldn’t recommend calling him that because he hates it and izzie has a bad habit of copying her aunt’s words. liked by georgerussell63

georgerussell63 yes i beg of you not to call me that in person. it took izzie a while to call me daddy SO PLEASE don’t call me that

landonorris ok georgie porgie 🤣

georgerussell63 you’re not invited in our house anymore landonorris

loricciardo happy anniversary george and nora!!! ❤️❤️ liked by georgerussell63

georgerussell63 thank you lo! hope to see you and beau soon! ❤️

nora_alessandro happy anniversary to you, mio caro 🥰 thank you so much for the love you’re giving me and the love you have for the kids ❤️❤️ gabby and izzie loves you soooo much!!! liked by georgerussell63

georgerussell63 happy anniversary my love ❤️ i’m so glad to have you and our kids

georgerussell63 posted a story!

tagged nora_alessandro

liked by danielricciardo, landonorris, mateoales

user1 PRINCE GEORGE?!

user2 when prince george finally became a thing 😩

user3 girl it’s been a thing… remember the royal family?

user4 this post literally screams “izzie is daddy’s favourite” and i love it ❤️

user5 george loves these kids sm like nobody’s boyfriend would spend shitloads of money just so their gf’s daughter could have the party she wants

user6 as of this point he might as well just adopt them in papers 😭😭 i love this family sm

danielricciardo sick party lad ✊ liked by georgerussell63

georgerussell63 it probably didn’t help that we had too much gelato that ruined our diets but thank you mate! my partner in crime did really good with designing the party itself

landonorris how you’ve managed to pull this off in two weeks is mind blowing 🤯 liked by georgerussell63

alex_albon lando, lad, he literally makes powerpoint presentations. if he can make a 20 slide presentation in one night he can get in call with those event planning people about the pumpkin carriage rental 😌 liked by georgerussell63

georgerussell63 glad to know one of you has a faith in me, at least 😕

loricciardo if this is how you plan izzie’s party i can’t imagine how you’ll plan gabby’s 🥰👀 liked by georgerussell63

georgerussell63 gabby wants rockets and space 😁😁 i’ve been trying to get a quote from the same people who organized izzie’s birthday party. it’s an exciting time for me

loricciardo planning out your kids’ parties? i can tell you’re having fun with the organizing 🤣

georgerussell63 nobody can plan their parties better than their daddy 😎

nora_alessandro she really loved her party tesoro 💙💙 liked by georgerussell63

georgerussell63 i’m glad she does 😍 she’s my little princess after all 💙

user6 dilf george really makes me want to get on my knees and tie my hair up ngl 😩🤤

user7 that’s just your daddy issues talking lol

BONUS !!!

PS nora and george’s kids:

gabriele theodore ‘gabby’ alessandro

maris henrietta ‘izzie’ alessandro

[lostloveletters]

And I Lay Right Down in My Favorite Place (Bill "Hoosier" Smith x Reader)

Summary:  The Australian heat has nothing on how you feel when you finally get Hoosier to yourself.

Note: Female reader, but no descriptors are used. Title comes from the song I Wanna Be Your Dog. This is based on the fictionalized characters in the miniseries and not the real individuals. Do not interact if you’re under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: Light period-typical misogyny. Obviously some historical inaccuracies. Sexually explicit content including oral sex (f. receiving) and some femdom elements. Do not interact if you’re under 18.

Your shadow cast abnormally long over Hoosier, his eyes scrunched shut as he slept in the rapidly setting Australian sun, curled up on his cot like a cat on a windowsill. If he had actually moved from that spot in the past few days, you would have felt bad waking him up. Except he hadn’t unless absolutely necessary, and so you attempted to disguise your selfish request as simple altruism.

“Hoosier, c’mon, we’re in Melbourne—civilization! You can’t just sleep through it. At least spend one night out so you don’t regret it.” He was unresponsive. “Please, for me?”

He snickered. “Even if I wanted to—which I don’t—I don’t have a pass.”

“I swiped an extra one. Look, everyone else ran off with some girl, and I have no one to go to bars with me tonight,” you said, stretching the truth a bit. Chuckler promised he’d look out for you in whatever little local dives you ended up in. For the most part, he had, but after a few drinks, he’d get distracted by a local girl, and you’d have to fend off equally drunk suitors without him as reliable backup.

“Fuck, alright,” he grumbled, pushing himself up from his cot, blanket still wrapped securely around his shoulders.

You shoved the dubiously acquired pass into his hand. “I just need to change, and—”

“Change?”

He stood up, the two of you staring each other down in an unspoken stand-off, waiting to see who would fold first.

“I bought a dress.”

“Don’t take too long or I’m going back to sleep.”

You ran to your cot, grabbing a paper shopping bag you’d shoved beneath it. A local boutique’s logo printed on the front, announcing your purchase of a flowing wrap dress that you couldn’t take your eyes off of in the shop. It didn’t take much convincing for you to buy it, and the unwavering confidence you felt while trying it on in the dressing room made a swift return when you ran into one of the locker rooms in the cricket stadium, changing in one of the stalls.

The plunging neckline had especially caught your attention, far from the conservative attire you’d usually wear as a Marine—though there had been strong opinions among some of the men toward your wearing pants, until Hoosier had asked them how the hell you were supposed to trek through the dense jungles in a skirt, which promptly shut most of them up. 

Still, you bought the dress knowing full well it was an impractical, expensive purchase that wouldn’t make it out of Australia with you. The slip that you wore beneath it was a buttery soft satin that you never wanted to take off, nothing short of heavenly against your skin. You didn’t have much in the way of makeup or perfume, so you’d chosen a dress and some heels that could do most of the heavy lifting for you.

Your name echoed through the empty locker room, Hoosier calling out for you as his boots smacked against the tile floor. “Hey, you in here?”

“In the stall!” you shouted back.

The tap ran along with the sound of water splashing. “You sure there’s no one else around to go with you?”

“Leckie’s playing house with some girl from the trolley the other night, Sid’s with his girl Gwen, Chuckler’s god knows where, and Runner’s got a date with the shop assistant at the boutique I bought this from, so no,” you said, securely tying the wrap dress in place. “Look, if it’s that much of a bother, you can stay.” You shuffled out of the stall, your uniform folded and shoved in the shopping bag the dress had been in. 

Hoosier whistled lowly when he saw you, quickly shaking his head. “Not while you’re wearing that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Means you’re showing about as much tit as the girls in those magazines.”

You straightened your back, giving yourself a once-over in the mirror above the sink. “That’s why I bought it.”

“It’s sure as hell working on me.”

“Really?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as you turned to him.

He folded his arms over his chest. “What made you think it wouldn’t?”

“You’ve seen me covered in mud and blood—I think I’ve even thrown up on you before.”

He grinned. “Gives you character.”

“So I spent my hard-earned money on this new dress for nothing?”

“Not for nothing. I wouldn't mind seeing how it looks coming off you.”

“Maybe somewhere nicer than a locker room?” you proposed.

“Now you’re gonna make me spend my hard-earned money just because you wanna fuck somewhere fancy?”

“I wanna fuck somewhere with a real bed, and privacy.”

“Sounds like you already have a place in mind.”

“I might," you said, taking his hand in your free one and leading him out of the cricket stadium.

Running down the streets of Melbourne with Hoosier sent a rush through you. Your dress flowing in the cool night breeze, the hem flirting around your thighs, each gust of wind threatening to give a peak of what lay beneath to passersby. For the first time in months, you felt like a woman, anticipation building in your gut as Hoosier kept his hand firmly around yours, bringing you closer to the night you’d been hoping for. The fact that it’d be with him was icing on the cake. Even though you were no longer relentlessly hounded for your answer of which member of H Company you would fuck if you absolutely had to—from day one, you’d pick Hoosier.

He really hadn’t been exaggerating about the dress, because when the two of you ran into Chuckler smoking outside of a bar, at least three whiskeys into his nightcap, he didn’t even recognize you. Instead, he shot a wink your way and congratulated Hoosier for ‘getting some.’ He had shouted something else your way when you and Hoosier were halfway up the street, nearing the hotel you’d seen on your shopping trip.

A tall, swanky building with valets outside, you tried not to gawk at the giant chandelier in the lobby, surely worth more than you’d make in your lifetime. You and Hoosier caught some odd glances from the people milling about, but some went out of their way to thank him. You bristled at the perceived slight until you remembered what you were wearing, your uniform hidden in the shopping bag in your hand.

A well-put together man stood behind the front desk, not bothering to pay either of you any mind until Hoosier cleared his throat.

“Good evening, sir. I’d like to book a room for one night for, uh, Lewis Juergens and guest.” 

You nudged Hoosier with your elbow.

The manager looked you and Hoosier over with his lips pursed, as if he were resisting the urge to sneer. “We don’t tend to allow unmarried couples to share a room.”

You put on a charming smile and the best imitation of an Australian accent you could muster. “Just married. We’re honeymooning while we can. Gotta keep this one in line before I hand him back to the Marines.”

“I see,” he said, neither fully convinced by your story nor concerned enough to argue. “Mr. and Mrs. Lewis Juergens for one night, then?”

“That’s right,” Hoosier said. “Honey, why don’t you wait up for me?”

You kissed him, perhaps a bit more passionately than was acceptable in such an upscale establishment, but the desire in his eyes when you pulled away to wander over to the elevator was worth it.

He grinned as he walked over to you less than a minute later, holding up the room key. “Wait ‘til Chuckler finds out he’s married.”

“To a nice Australian girl to boot,” you said, pushing the elevator button.

“Nice girls don’t kiss like that.”

“Oops.”

When the doors opened, Hoosier told the operator to bring you to the seventh floor. You caught a glimpse of the room number engraved on the key’s tag. As soon as the doors opened, you rushed down the ornate hallway in search of the room. He seemed to take his sweet time walking over, amused by the scowl on your face.

"You know, I think I might've forgotten something downstairs—"

"Hoosier, I swear to god."

He snickered as he unlocked the door, ushering you inside.

You pushed Hoosier against the door when he locked it behind him, kissing him with a ferocity that shocked him for a moment before he came to his senses. The kiss was overtaken by the desperate clashing of teeth and tongue, a long repressed primal urge rearing its ugly head as you pressed yourself against him. Before that night, you’d considered the situation you found yourself in little more than a foolish yet pleasant fantasy, doubting he wanted you as much as you wanted him. His vulgar quips toward you had blended with the others you’d gotten used to, learned to take in stride. They were all talk, anyway. The way his hands kneaded your ass through the flimsy material of your dress proved otherwise.

“How much did you spend on this?” he asked, voice husky with desire.

You threw the shopping bag aside, paying no mind to how it fell over on its side. “You don’t wanna know.”

“Five bucks?”

“Higher.”

“Ten?”

“Higher.”

“Shit, I better make this worth your while, then.”

“You will,” you said, catching his bottom lip between your teeth, tugging on it ever so slightly.

Your hand half-wrapped around his neck, you pressed your thumb against the base of his throat while you sucked and bit on a patch of skin just beneath his collarbone. No one would notice unless they really looked for it, like you would over the next few days, your eyes inevitably drifting to where you staked your claim on him. 

He leaned against the door, breathing heavily while you left your mark on his skin, slightly tanned by days in the relentless tropical sun. Your hand drifted up to caress his cheek, your thumb brushing his lower lip. He took the digit in his mouth, and you gasped when he began sucking on it. 

“You’ve got everyone else fooled, you know that?” you murmured, softly kissing the corner of his lips. “Sleeping all day like you’re above it all, when you’re a bigger slut than the rest of them.” You palmed him through his pants, his hard cock straining against the fabric, earning a muffled moan from him. 

When he reached for your hips, you pulled your thumb from his mouth and grabbed his wrists just as quickly, pinning them on either side of him.

“If you want me, you gotta work for it.”

He groaned. “Jesus, you’re mean.”

“I know, but I think you like that,” you said. “Do you like that?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he answered without hesitation.

You released his wrists from your grasp, kicking off your heels as you walked back to sit on the edge of the bed. “Then show me how much you want me.”

He sank to his knees before you without hesitation. He would have looked almost pious if his hands were clasped together instead of pulling your panties and stockings down to your ankles, his tongue darting out from between his lips as you spread your legs. He’d seen you before, though, not this intimately, but close enough. Privacy was a scarce resource, and so modesty packed its bags along with it. You’d conquered shame on those islands, perhaps the first woman to do so. Maybe that could be included in Lady Marines’ recruiting materials—put the church out of business, be naked and unashamed.

With a frustrated groan, you pulled off the wrap dress, hearing it tear as you were too impatient to untie it properly. The soft, patterned fabric pooled around Hoosier’s knees. He pushed your slip up around your hips, his calloused fingers drifting down between your opened legs. His rough touch electrified you, your legs seizing a bit when he started rubbing your clit with the pads of his fingers, watching intently as your face contorted in pleasure.

His hands gripped your thighs as he ducked his head between your legs, slowly dragging his tongue up your leaking slit until his lips reached your clit, sucking it while he slipped his fingers inside you. Leaning back on the bed, comforter balled up in your hands, your arms strained to support you as he ate you out, lust clouding your reason, your climax just achingly out of reach, like he was doing it on purpose.

“Don’t fucking stop,” you ordered through gritted teeth, your hand buried in his hair, keeping his face pressed against your pussy. His teeth grazed your clit, and your pussy clenched around his fingers when he flicked his tongue against the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your back arched, pleasure cracking down your spine like a whip as you came with a moan that echoed in your ears. “Hoosier—Bill—oh my god—” His tongue lapped up your wetness as you rode out your orgasm on his face.

He moved back from between your legs, hair unkempt and face flushed, his mouth and chin glistening in the low light.

“I wish I had a camera,” you sighed, affectionately running your fingers through his messy hair. “You look perfect.”

“Yeah?” he asked, almost dazed.

You nodded. “Like a wet dream.”

He moved to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand, but you grabbed his wrist before he could.

“Don’t,” you said, a little harsher than you intended. “I wanna see how I taste.”

When he stood up, you took his face in your hands, kissing him deeply, taking in the taste of yourself on his tongue, his lips. The sensation sent an irrational, possessive urge through you, greedy for more of him, as much as he’d give you—and only you. 

“You got a condom?” you asked breathlessly against his mouth.

“If I don’t, I’m gonna kill somebody,” he grumbled, searching his pockets for one. 

Salvation in his front shirt pocket, he held one up triumphantly. 

With shaky hands, you unbuttoned his shirt, frustrated by how much he was wearing compared to you—for once. Usually you were the one overdressed, sneaking glances of envy and admiration whenever he was shirtless. He had never caught you, or at least he never let on that he had. You reveled at finally having your hands on him the way you wanted, the way that’d make you curl your hands into fists, digging your broken fingernails into your palms to distract from how frustratingly out of reach he was on those islands.

Your slip came off over your head much easier than the dress, and soon a pile of discarded clothes was kicked to the wayside as he joined you on the bed. 

You stroked his cock, his hips jerking at your touch. 

“It’s been a while,” he offered as an explanation for how his body reacted. As if he needed to, as if you weren’t on the verge of pouncing on him at that very moment.

“I don’t care. I want you inside me, Hoosier. I wanna feel you when you come.”

He groaned, chewing on his bottom lip. “Oh fuck.”

You kissed him, practically swallowing the groan that emerged from his throat when he plunged his cock inside you, your cunt clenching around him as he filled you. 

He pressed his forehead against yours, his gaze locked on your eyes as you struggled to keep them open with each thrust in your pliant pussy, taking him deeper with each stroke. 

“Fuck—I’m close,” he barely managed to force out, his cock twitching as he neared orgasm.

“I got you, baby,” you whispered, your lips soft against the shell of his ear as his thrusts slowed and became erratic as he bottomed out inside you. 

He gave you a sloppy kiss, taking a few moments to catch his breath before pulling out of you. “Fuck,” he murmured, mostly to himself.

You curled up beneath the covers as he got up to discard the used condom.

“Jesus Christ, they’re gonna think someone tried to decapitate me,” he said from the bathroom.

“Sorry!”

“Don’t be. Maybe I can claim some rare jungle illness and get a few extra days off.”

You scoffed, smiling when he got into bed next to you, pulling you against him. “Yeah, you and every other Marine running around Melbourne.”

“Hotel room was a good call,” he said softly, nuzzling his nose against the crown of your head. “Fuck, I’m gonna be dreaming about this on the next shithole island they dump us on.” He was quiet for a moment. “Never thought that’d get me going, you bossing me around and all.”

“Something about you brought that out,” you said. “I don’t know, I feel like I’d go crazy if another woman touched you.”

“I’ll make sure to warn ‘em.”

You barked out a laugh, hiding your face in the crook of his neck before resting your head on his shoulder. “How about you? Most guys think eating out is degrading.”

“Because they’re fucking idiots.”

“I won’t argue with that.”

The two of you talked well into the night before falling asleep, only to be awoken at ten in the morning by a phone call from the front desk, informing you that if you didn’t check out within the hour, you’d be charged extra.

“Can we put it on Chuckler’s tab?” Hoosier grumbled, reluctantly getting out of bed.

“I wish,” you said, hastily freshening up in the bathroom.

“What’re you gonna do with that dress?” he asked. “Can’t take it with you.”

You shrugged, glancing at the torn, wrinkled garment. “I guess I’ll just leave it here.”

And you did, leaving it behind as you slipped out of the hotel room first. Wearing your uniform, far less comfortable than what you’d been wearing the day before, would inevitably draw unwanted attention to you and Hoosier if you left together, especially if you were seen by any number of fellow Marines who were prone to running their mouths. That, or the same haughty manager could have been behind the front desk again.

By the time Hoosier caught up with you at the cricket stadium, Chuckler was already there, sitting on your cot with you as he told you all about his escapades the night before. His attention quickly shifted to Hoosier.

“Hey, who was that cute broad you were with the other night? The one in the slinky dress?” Chuckler asked as he pulled on his boots. “Was she any good?”

Hoosier glanced at you, a smile tugging on his lips. “She was a real nympho. Tore off her dress and everything.” Your eyes widened when he held up a scrap of fabric clearly ripped from your now discarded dress. Chuckler grabbed for it, but Hoosier kept it just out of reach. “Woulda thought she was in heat or something”

You kicked his boot. 

He snickered. 

Chuckler didn’t notice the silent exchange, instead huffing out, “Man, I gotta get me a girl like that.”

“Gonna have to look somewhere else,” Hoosier said, eyes on you as he pocketed the torn piece of your dress. “This one’s mine.”

[bucksaiga]

You swore 💔

Part 6

Half socmed half fic where Steve gets more than he bargained for when he starts cheating on his girlfriend with the hot cashier from the boutique near his job.

18+

<- Part 5

3 days passed, and Billy tried his hardest not to give Steve a hard time. 

Steve’s car would be out of the shop soon, and that unfortunately meant Billy wouldn’t have to drive him around anymore.

Billy wasn’t happy about that. 

He needed to come up with more ways to be closer to Steve. To prove to Steve that he was a better partner than Nancy. 

Over the past few days, Billy had been stalking Nancy on social media. He needed to know what she looked like and what was so special about her, that Steve couldn’t let her go. 

She was pretty, obviously very smart, came from a nice family, had so many opportunities lined up…

Billy was convinced he didn’t stand a chance. He couldn’t believe there was a chance in hell that he was the one Steve was going to choose over Nancy Wheeler, the girl who’s got it all together. It didn’t matter if they were both messes, Billy was the bigger disaster. He just had to face that. 

He believed that was the real reason Nancy always came first.

Steve was sitting at the table, pretending he was interested in the stupid puzzle Nancy brought along, while the little shits cannonballed in his pool and ran through the house with wet feet, even though he told them not to.

“Why do they even need to be babysat? They’re starting high school soon!”

“All the weird things happening in town have my mom and the other moms feeling really uneasy, so they’d like at least one responsible person to keep an eye on them.”

“You are pretty responsible, so I understand.”

Nancy giggled. “You are too. The kids look up to you!”

“Yeah, it’s just…they’re growing like weeds! Who’s the redhead girl?”

“That’s Max. I think her family moved into town a few months ago. She’s a nice girl.”

Her name sounded familiar…

Max approached them at the table. “Hey, my brother’s on his way to pick me up. My mom wants me home early.”

“Okay. You have all your stuff?”

“Yeah. Thanks for letting us hang out at your house.”

“No problem.”

They all turned to the door when the doorbell rang, and Max ran ahead to answer it.

“Hey. Let me grab my bag.”

When Max’s brother stepped into the house, Steve’s eyes widened. So this Max was Billy’s shitty little stepsister…he didn’t speak of her much, but Billy didn’t like to talk about his home life at all.

“Hey.” Steve greeted awkwardly, unsure of how to approach with Nancy present.

“Sup?” Billy gave a casual nod, turning his attention to Nancy. “You must be Nancy. I’ve heard so much about you.” Billy charmingly smiled at her, causing Steve’s stomach to twist in knots.

“And you are…”

“Billy. Billy Hargrove. I’m a friend of Steve’s. You might’ve seen me working at the Hawkins Pool a time or two.”

“Oh! You’re the friend he mentioned!”

“That’s me. You know, you are even more beautiful in person.”

Nancy smiled, turning away to hide her blush. “Oh stop!” She turned to Steve. “Your friend is so nice!”

Steve slowly nodded. “Yeahh...Nice.”

“Hey, Steve. Can I talk to you for a minute? It’s important.”

“Uh, yeah, let’s talk upstairs.” He turned to Nancy. “Be right back.”

“Okay. Nice meeting you, Billy!”

Billy followed Steve upstairs to Steve’s bedroom. Billy closed the door behind them, locking it.

“So what’d you wanna—“

Steve gasped as he was pushed onto the bed.

“Billy, what the hell—“

“Shh.” He crawled on top of him. “I just missed you.” He leaned in to kiss him.

Steve melted into the kiss, quickly snapping out of it and breaking away. “Nancy is right downstairs!” Steve loudly whispered.

“She doesn’t suspect a thing.” He slid his hand into Steve’s shorts. “Jesus, you’re soft. She really bores you, huh?”

He grunted, his body quickly warming up from Billy's touch. “Billy, we can’t do this right now.”

“Just kiss me for a little longer.”

Steve obliged, his hand reaching up and grabbing Billy’s neck, their lips crashing into each other’s, moaning into each other’s mouths. 

Billy moved his hand around in Steve’s shorts, jerking his cock slowly. 

“N-no…” Steve whispered. “We can’t…”

“Sh-sh-shhh. Just let me, okay?” He stroked his cock faster, lovingly staring into Steve’s eyes. “Focus on me, baby.”

“Mm…okay.” He agreed, letting himself get lost in Billy's seductive eyes.

“So good for me, baby.” They continued to kiss, Steve’s moans growing louder and louder as Billy swallowed every sound. 

Their lips gently parted and Billy smirked. “You’re real hard now, pretty boy. Gonna cum soon?”

“Mmh…y-yeah.” Steve loudly whispered, trying to control himself. 

“It’s just me and you, baby. I love you so much.”

Steve let out a breathless moan. “F-fuck. I’m g—gonna…oh!”

Steve came in Billy’s hand, sighing when he was rewarded with a sweet kiss. 

He jumped off the bed in a hurry as he snapped back into reality.

“I need to uh…” He scrambled to pull up his pants, losing his train of thought while he watched Billy lick his cum off his hand. “I uh…” He gulped hard. “I um…I need to…get back…downstairs.”

Billy smacked his lips, savoring the mess Steve made of his hand. “Mhm.”

“God, you’re so hot…” Steve said wistfully. 

Billy chuckled as he licked the remnants of Steve’s cum from his fingers. “ Listen, babe. I really did need to talk to you.”

“Yeah? About what?”

Billy slowly lifted his shirt, revealing a large bruise on his body.

Steve hissed at the sight. “Jesus, what the hell happened?”

“Old man was drunk again—“

“Again? He can’t keep beating you like this!”

“I’ve only been working for a month and a half. I’m busting my balls to save money to move, but…” Billy sighed. “I-I just can’t take it anymore.” He met Steve’s pitiful gaze with sad, watering eyes. “Can I stay here with you?”

“I—babe. I dunno. What if Nancy comes over—“

“What, you’d rather let me get my ass beat just so you can cater to your little girlfriend?” Billy spat. 

“C’mon, it’s not that. You know I care about you, I just…” Steve sighed in defeat. “Y’know what? Go home, grab some stuff and come back. We’ll just figure it out.”

“Really? You sure?”

“Yeah. I can’t let him keep beating you like that and act like it doesn’t bother the hell out of me. It kills me to see you like that.”

“I’ll be okay now because I’ll be with you.” Billy approached and wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist.

Steve gave him a swift kiss before gently pulling away. “Take Max home. Don’t piss your dad and stepmom off. Come back home to me, okay?”

“I love you so much, Steve. Thank you.”

Steve nodded. “I love you too.”

He watched as Billy descended the steps, overhearing him call for Max to ‘get in the fuckin’ car, or else.’ 

Was this really a good idea?

[silverinkbottle]

Chapter 3: Shopping Around

A/N: Delayed chapter, but here it's here! We get a glimpse of Reader's Past, Alastor's introduction and Vox's unwelcome arrival.

Word Count:4.8K

Chapter Two <- Previous Chapter

Darkness. A muted scream in the void, curling pressure around your thighs as if something was trying to drag you deeper into the black. You awoke with a sputtering cough as you jolted upward in the cozy bed. Unconsciously loosening your fingers from around your throat as you took another ragged breath. Dreams, once little escapes for the living, but in your mind a consistent reminder of the present. Black ink stained your fingertips as you looked down at them. Little delicate hands that hadn’t seen a spot of hard labor as you relied on your wits to get by. That hadn’t changed as you could feel the bitter taste of ink fading over your tastebuds. Was it getting worse? Or was it from waking up in an entirely new place that amplified your awareness?

It was all too tempting to fall back into the warm sheets as you fell back down with a huff. The weight of the bags under your eyes made it clear that you hadn’t slept well. Or if at all as you tried to remember the events of the night before. The mere fraction of movement as Lucifer tried to find the ideal spot for his desk. The chicken-scratch quality notes as he flipped through catalogs of furniture featured in the various Rings. Did he really want your opinion on flowers that had potentially fatal side effects? You could all but feel the slow pulse of headache from the mere memory of it as it reared its’ strength as your bedroom door slammed open.

The blonde tornado was in rare form today as you scrambled to keep your bedsheets up around you, while still reaching for the little black book on your nightstand. Boundaries, the King of Hell hadn’t a clue about boundaries as he continued oblivious to your discomfort. Your fogged mind managed to sort out the gist of the conversation. A shopping trip between daddy and daughter. Did you think Charlie would let him buy her new furniture? Her quarters were sparse, she deserved the world. But what if she said no? Should he take her to the boutiques of Greed first or would that opulence be too much? Was it better to ease her into it with Gluttony slow temptation?

Half of that was a muffled mess as Lucifer tripped over the edge of the floor rug into the end of your bed. His hat in disarray as you did your best to hide your laughter at his feeble leg kicks. Looking very much like his beloved waterfowl in the water as you were quick to smother your smile when he managed to right himself. 

“Well. What do you think?” Lucifer huffed as you slowly trailed your pen over the hastily scribbled notes. You only knew the Princess through Lucifer’s biased views, but you could only imagine the chaos if the pair were unleashed in a Greed department store. It would be better for them to warm up, it seemed.

“Perhaps, a trip to Guttony for a spot of breakfast would be best.” You cautioned as Lucifer nodded in agreement. A full stomach would dissuade even the most determined of shoppers. It was an unfortunate flaw that even you admitted to as you became quite sluggish in the morning if it wasn’t a light meal.

“But I don’t know what she would like..what if-”

“It's the Gluttony Ring, sir, I am sure she will find something that tickles her fancy..” You were quick to cut off the words with a firm, but kind tone. The last thing you needed was the misanthropic man agonizing over if his estranged child would prefer pancakes over scones. Discreetly pulling on your robe, you were quick to usher him out of your quarters with a few nods of affirmation and hums. 

There was a distant screech of protest and shouts as Lucifer had taken off to find Charlie without a second glance. Did she know about the trip? Far coarser words bounced off the walls from Vaggie, as the answer came in a resounding NO. Spontaneity ran in the family as a loud squeal came from Charlie as who knew what sorts of ideas Lucifer was filling her head with. 

Quickly slamming your bedroom door shut, to prevent you having TWO issues on your hands. Charlie, at least, seemed to have a sense of space compared to her father. An eerie sense of calm trickled through you. A day off? It wasn’t as if Lucifer would drag you along to intrude on a bit of family bonding time. Still, the concept almost felt foreign to your workaholic mind as you trudged over your wardrobe with little flair. You couldn’t lay in bed all day, it was far too indulgent. Nor would sleep find you as you could feel your throat tighten at the thought. 

No, there was a far more appealing option. A nice drink and your little black book.

The parlor of the hotel was strangely quiet aside from the faint click of glasses from the bar. Even its usual barfly was out for the day as you fiddled with the collar of your coat. Husker acknowledged your presence with a grunt before taking a better look at your outfit. 

“It's a bit morbid isn’t it?”

“I prefer nostalgia. Mink was expensive in my time, don’t you know..” You retorted with a sniff. Your ears twitched as you could hear a rumble of activity from upstairs. Nothing fell through the second floor, so things seemed to be fine. Yet, the bartender had a point. The flattened empty skin of a fox’s head draped over your throat, while its brilliant coat of reds and whites curled around your body. The coat’s lower half mingled with warmer felts and velvets as it tried to conceal the poorer quality of the pelt.  Clasped closed by the steel brooch as you crossed your legs revealing a sliver of fishnets beneath the pelts as you leaned against the bar.

“Now are you going to critique my choices in fashion or are you going to serve me a drink?”

“Gin n tonic?”

“Make it a whisky on the rocks. It’s my day off..” You muttered as Husker raised a furred brow at the drastic change in choice. A gin and tonic was light, botanical and easier on the tongue. Yet, whiskey burned like hot coals as it slid down the gullet. Even if garnished with a lemon twist as the little twist elegantly floated in the amber liquid. Oh, it burned, it burned away at the whispering thoughts as you were quick to order another. Then another. Burning away memories like a greedy flame licking away at fresh paper.

“And he thinks it’s alright!” Your voice pitched in emotion as you slammed your hand down on the polished counter as Husker looked more and more put out with each passing second. As if this sort of situation had been forced upon him frequently. He was a bartender afterall.

“So, we talking about the big boss or Al?” Husker growled 

“That’s-not-the-point” You hiccuped as you could feel scarlet chase over your features. Warming your features in an entirely different manner compared to the liquor seeping through your rational thoughts. How did bitching about furniture and boundaries turn into this as you took another sip of your drink. Was this the third or fourth, you were losing count. Your tail lashed betraying your agitation as Husk’s keen eyes didn’t budge from your sulking form. He had a point. Fucker.

A cool burst of air ran up the back of your heated neck as the front doors slammed open. Husk visibly bristled as the intruder swept past them without a single word. 

“Fucking prick. Don’t he know that-”

“Shorter than I thought he would be” You snickered as you drained the whiskey in one final draught. Swiving in your chair, you waited for the entertainment to start. The fruitless attempts of watching the one-sided dance between Vox and the unfettered guards. One step to the left, another tick of a typewriter as another pair of paperboys appeared to impede the Overlord. 

“FUCK” Vox snarled as his hand was bitten into as he tried to shove one of the paperboy’s back by the shoulder. A further burst of giggles slipped from your loose lips as the Overlord cradled his injured hand. FInally he spun around on his heel to witness you almost falling off the barstool as you idly waved them off from pouncing on the overlord.

“Where the fuck is Lucifer and what the fuck is with these-”  Vox’s hand bled freely as the crimson droplets flew through the air. The paperboys were all but trembling with anticipation, but didn’t budge a step from the stairs as you dismissed them with a short whistle. The creatures tipped their hands before vanishing into a spontaneous black burrow. Vox connected the dots with ease as he turned to the head up the stairs once more.

“He is out. Please, Mr. Vox do not make me call reinforcements. I can write a message for him if you insist.” 

The words came out fluidly if a bit clipped as your job had molded around you like a cap to a bottle. Even in your intoxicated state, the script that left your lips was without flaw. Even if your amusement of the situation was betrayed by your tiny smile taking satisfaction in the entire situation.  

“And when will he come back?” Vox asked politely, almost all too sweetly. Losing patience with the word ‘no’ it seemed or anything that impeded him from getting what he wanted. An Overlord at the base. There was a click of ice and liquor as you snorted unladylike into your fresh glass.

“Do I look like I know? I can’t exactly demand the King of Hell ignore his whims.” You sighed before taking a sip of the fresh drink. The kindly bartender had even garnished it with a cherry as you fished it out of the cold glass. Evidently taking as much joy in seeing the Overlord get stifled in his own plans as you did.

“And who the fuck are you exactly?” Vox growled as you could feel the static in the edge of your skirts cling to your skin as the Overlord leaned over you. A show of intimidation as you gently returned the glass to its coaster.

“Lucifer’s secretary. Now, would you like to leave a message?” You replied sweetly as that answer seemed to deflate Vox’ temper by a hair. You weren’t affiliated with the Hotel in any capacity beyond Lucifer, which meant you weren’t affiliated with HIM. Oh, wasn’t he terribly clever as he gestured to the ragged coat.

“You’re Lucifer’s secretary, but you dress like this? Take a position at Voxtech and you’ll be flush with cash. If you play your cards right.” Vox explained as he placed an unwelcome hand on your shoulder that you were quick to brush away with a scowl. He even had the nerve to spin you back around in your chair as you faced the bar. The Overlord crowding your space without a single notion of boundaries.

“Scotch.” Vox barked at Husk, the bartender huffed at the order. He wasn’t some sort of dog that did tricks on command. The rattle of scotch decanter was all too loud as fingertips brushed over your face to make you look at the Overlord.

“Come on, what’s a little tour around the King’s office gonna do. Come on now.” Vox teased as you bit down the urge to respond with violence. Bitter ink whispered over your tongue as the Overlord’s other hand slid over your thigh. Far too close for comfort as you swallowed the bitter ink. You couldn’t fall apart now.

“I would like to keep my job. Now if you would remove your hand from my thigh. I am married..” You hissed as Vox laughed at your response. 

“Married. In Hell. Hate to remind you of that, sweetheart, not sure if those sorts of vows mean anything down here.” Vox tutted as his grip on your face tightened. His request for a tour was turning into a demand as you pulled your face away from him.

“Oh, do try telling that to my husband, can’t get it through his skull. As damaged as that is.” You retorted as you removed the gloves from your hand. The brass ring on your finger caught in the light as Vox rolled his eyes.

“Besides, now why would I want to work for someone like you. Called my work a fucking puff peace followed by the apparent ‘dismissal’ of over half of Velvette’s love potion staff after sources revealed what exactly was in them. Coddled, old, semen and burnt bedspreads if I remember my wording correctly..” You hissed as if the insults were laid against you yesterday instead of all those years.

“Truth hurts doesn’t it.” You snarled as the glass in Vox’s hand shattered. Now you have sent the Overlord into a little fit. The lightbulbs behind the bar shattered as Husk protest was lost in the groaning noise of the walls. Ink trickled from the corner of your mouth as you staggered into an upright position. The drinks weren’t the best idea, but neither was running away from the irate Overlord.

“Oh, I thought I heard something pathetic.” 

“You’re ALIV-E”

The glitched snarl went mute to your ears as you were hastily dragged behind the bar counter by Husk lest you become a part of the damage to the Hotel. Steel cables ripped from the walls, snapping like electric snakes as Alastor descended the stairs, green energy crackling from the microphone. The world went silent around you as bitter ink spilled fruitlessly from your lips as Husk tried to ask you a question. His ears pinning back was the last sight you had before the world went dark.

New Orleans: 1923

Jazz, cigar smoke and patrons floated about you as you narrowly avoided running into a stumbling patron as your drink’s tray rattled ominously. It would be the last straw if you dropped this tray as the expensive whiskey swayed in its protective glass as if swaying to the trumpets. Your destination is a trio of chain smoking gangsters who greeted you with a cheer as you set the drinks down.  A pat on the butt and earning one dollar bill was your reward as you clutched the money to your chest. Their attention didn’t last long as a busty blonde on stage burst into another number, backed by thundering trumpets. You were quick to retreat from the table, tucking the cash into your camisole as the bartender barked further orders at you. The rest of the night was blur as you blissfully took a break to sip water tinged with lime. Alcohol didn’t agree with your mother, it wouldn’t with you. You didn’t take that chance.

Unfortunately you weren’t alone for long as a strong-looking hand flicked at the feather in your cream headband. Benson? Bronson? Regardless of the gentleman’s name, he was quick to call your attention as you forced a polite smile on your face. He was quick to press a kiss to your hand as you caught scant words over the thundering music.

A date? With him. Tonight. He had just purchased a new vehicle that he needed to take a real drive. Get its wheels muddy as his fingers grazed your bare arm. Blushing prettily you were too quick to decline with a shake of your head.

“Come on now, don’t be like that. I saw how you pocketed that cash, baby doll. I could make it worth your while.” His words were a rasp against your ear as his other hand slid up your leg. The threadbare stockings and patch jobs gave him all the information he needed to know about your financial status. Struggling, destitute, so like the select other women here willing to ply guests with other ‘offers’. Your stubborn pride made you want to kick off at the idea, but rent and bills were coming due. It was just one time, right?

“Apologies for being late, the cops are sniffing about tonight. Be a shame if Harry’s was caught out in it all.” A smooth voice broke through your thoughts as your intended suitor cursed under his breath before backing off. His quick retreat made it all the clearer that the trio wasn’t under the control of Mob Boss Gisno, but someone else entirely as you watched them scatter like a group of rats.

Further to the point there was something familiar about your eevedropper’s voice. You didn’t recognize him at all. Brown almost black hair curled neatly, deep brown eyes and taller than average stature made him almost indistinguishable. Yet it was the voice that was striking a cord in your mind.

“Ha, I'm afraid this happens often. People hear the voice, but draw a blank in person.” Your eavesdropper mused as he drained his glass of rye within a single blink of the eye. A practiced drinker it would seem as the truth forced itself to the front of your mind.

“You’re that radio host. Aren’t you? Stirred up a bit of controversy last week in response to some bluenose housewife protesting your local news taking precedence over some hacksaw politician’s newest election numbers.” You mused as the radio host’s lips curled into a faint smile. His hands raised in surrender as you laughed softly.

“Unless she is blind, she can read print like the rest of us. As difficult as some of that is to swallow these days.” You grumbled as you rolled your eyes far too often reading the morning papers. Even worse still was when the little paperboys swarmed you with the ‘true’ gossip as soon as you purchased it. Half of it was powdered sugar and the other was full of shit. As if the public needed more excitement in their lives than the present. 

“Not a fan of the papers?” The host mused as he leaned forward on his hand. As if he didn’t expect to find another admirer of the media tonight, but what was he looking for then? It wasn’t going to be found at the bottom of a bottle.

“Reality has tainted my taste for fairy tales..” You muttered as you took a long drink of your water.  The host chuckled before gesturing to the chaos surrounding you. Men and women in states of intoxication seeking something to hide away from the truth or some old wound. 

“Now you sound like some crone. I imagine you have quite a few more years to pass through, my dear.” The host tutted as you scoffed in response. Some here could forget their troubles for the night, but it would catch up with them come morning.

“A radio host and fortune teller. What an exotic career you must lead.” 

“I have the smallest amount of my mother’s talent. Besides, it’s written all over your face, you want to be anywhere else but here. New Orleans isn’t home is it?” The host prodded as you sheepishly ducked your head. No, it wasn’t. You grew up in northern New York, away from the Big Apple. After your Pa died, Mother couldn’t manage the forestry business, so she packed up her brood of kids to head to the city. Picked up the bottle too.

“I didn’t mean to-”

“No. You’re right, I arrived here a year ago. Finding my feet still it seems. Work has been harder to come by than I thought. No one wants a secretary with a mouth or unwillingness to play second fiddle to a housewife.” You muttered as bitterness coated the words. It was after the third time you impaled a handsy employer’s palm with a pen point that had soiled your reputation. Despite your quality work, no one wanted to be bit by a rabid bitch.

“When I find myself stuck, I like to look up at the stars.” 

“Here, in the city? Those must be some glasses you have there.”

“No. Even been to the bayou, Miss. Stars like fire and mangroves towering around you make your problems seem all the smaller.”

“You must be a radio host with such poetic words like that. Able to make a bayou sound like a fairy tale. It can’t be that fantastical.”

“It is, if you were with the right person.”

Charming. Smooth. Able to match your sharp words with gentle persuasion. That was the first night you met Alastor in that smokey speakeasy. Him plucking topics out of you like he was fox finessing a chicken’s feathers.

“You good?”

Husker’s rough voice broke you from your trance as you hissed in discomfort when you tried to move. It felt like every single part of your body had been pricked by needles as you wiped away the trickle of ink from your lips. Husk was quick to grab you by the arm to hold you place as you tried to stand up. It was for the better as plaster crumbled from the wall behind you. You didn’t dare imagine the carnage that waited beyond the safety of the bar. Glass, plaster and other materials littered the floor in front of you as you could hear the crackle of electricity in the air.

“How long was I out?” You muttered as you tried to flex your fingers. Ignoring the prickling sensation as you forced the fatigued digits to respond.

“Bout thirty minutes. Happen often?” Husker pressed as you blinked at him once. His scoff was all the answer you needed. He knew that Sinners carried their burdens in all sorts of ways. A bit of a black out wasn’t unheard of it. 

“Motherfucker!” The curse slipped from your lips as liquor bottles were smashed by an errant tentacle emerging from the wall, swiping out at glass bottles as their sticky contents rained down on your sheltering forms. Ignoring the prickle of alarm up your spine, you knocked against the ruined floor, a black burrow appeared underneath it. A furry brown arm stuck out as if waiting for paper

“I don’t have paper with me. Quick go fetch Lucifer, lest these territorial dogs wreak the entire hotel.” You hissed as the messenger gave a thumb’s up. A bark of laughter and parade of insults baited your curiosity to peer over the counter, much to Husk’s low protests.

“Getting slow on your feet old man.” Vox snarled as you couldn’t help flinch as the crackling wires snapped at Alastor’s side. Searing a hole in fabric as the radio demon retaliated by slipping a tentacle around his opponent’s legs to trip him up. It was a miracle the parlor still stood as Vox’s dismantling of the electrical system left crumbling plaster in its place, while Alastor was less than careful on where he spawned the rampaging tentacles that swung at anything in their vicinity. 

You weren’t an architect, but you knew any further structural damage would send the newly rebuilt hotel crumbling. Visible relief flooded you as bright light burst in the center of the room, putting both combatants on their toes. A first several bewildered, overburdened imps with packages appeared, followed by Charlie’s shrill screech of protest as she took in the ruins about her.  Vaggie beside her looked less than pleased, but by the far the biggest reaction came from Lucifer.

“Now sweetheart, what’s got you screeching like you are being bathed in boiling oil. Did you want something else from-. Oh.” Lucifer’s words trailed off as there was a sharp yelp from Vox as he was tripped up by a tentacle. Falling flat on his face much to Alastor’s joyful cackles that turned into a hiss as he was snapped at by the wires. 

“MY PARLOR.” Charlie cried out as her eyes prickled with tears before lightly placing her hand against the crumbling front door. A wail escaping her as that gentle action sent the elegant panes to fragment into pieces. 

“Now what happened here..” Lucifer’s voice was deathly calm as his eyes flicked to you as you carefully picked your way over from the bar wreckage. Your manicured nail jabbed in Vox’s prone form.

“He asked to speak with you.” A grumble escaped Vox as the Overlord raised his head in response, only to be stunned once more by a brick of falling plaster.

“He decided-” 

“I don’t need to understand the petty feuds between Overlords. Like fucking children in a sandbox fighting over toys. I am ASKING what happened.” Lucifer hissed as he tugged you down by the collar of your coat. Oh, he was in rare form now. 

“It appeared the Overlord known as Vox showed up without an appointment.” You stated bluntly as you flicked through your black book with a single brush of your fingertips. Thankfully Lucifer’s grip on your coat dropped after that. Laughter bubbled up from the King of Hell that sent ice down your spine. 

“Why is it that you Sinners think you can do whatever you want here. All but ready to barge into my OFFICE without an APPOINTMENT. Has the entire hierarchy of Hell fallen within half the day I have been gone.” Lucifer snarled as he gestured to wreckage around him. 

“I will say this once. Only once. Sinners don’t get to make demands in my kingdom. They make fucking appointments.” Lucifer snarled as he began to drag Vox over the rubble by the throat. What limited brain cells the Sinner had were working overtime as the Sinner forced himself to be as limp as a rabbit caught in the jaws of a lion. Even if it was painful as his screen-like face flickered colors when the Devil’s grip dragged him through sturdy stone and glass.

“He is never getting that fucking appointment if this puff piece author has anything to say about it..” You muttered under your breath as Husker chuckled at the snide comment. There was a sort of smugness about the bartender now as you both took in Alastor’s rougher shape, he hadn’t come out of the little spat unscathed. His left leg limped along as he leaned heavily on the cane as he did his best to clear the grit from his voice.

“Now, Charlie no need to fret, I’ll-”

“MY FUCKING WALL ALASTOR. Couldn’t you have taken it outside for once.” Charlie snapped as she whirled on her feet to face the dimming smile of the Radio Demon. Oh, this was going to be delightful as you and Husk posted up on the overturned bar stools as the Princess of Hell’s verbal rampage ran roughshod over the hotelier.  Evidentially that section of the hotel had gone through very short lifespans as Charlie’s voice pitched in volume with each interrupting attempt from Alastor. Tears ran freely down the Princess’s face as Vaggie intervened with a clap of her hands, gently comforting her girlfriend as she pointed at the wreckage.

“Fix it.”

“Done.” Flat, direct without a single hint of sarcasm as you spied his injured wrist spasm uncomfortably as little souls began the tedious process of cleaning up. 

A much calmer Lucifer returned moments later as he was quick to coddle his upset daughter. The pair were able to usher her up the half surviving portion of the main staircase as you gave a slow clap in the deafening quiet.

“Quite the show. Alastor. A day off well spent.” You announced as Alastor ran an agitated hand over his face.

“You still have half a day, don't ruin it.” Alastor hissed through clenched teeth as you nodded in agreement. Ruffled, Alastor was beyond ruffled after that little bout of combat. He was all but scolded like a disobedient guard dog by Charlie and in turn Vaggie. Were Lucifer’s words of Sinners ringing his ears now? The clear definition of Hell’s hierarchy. 

Oh. This was delicious.

“A bath I think would be perfect. Do enjoy your little chores, Alastor.” 

“Enjoy your bath, wife. It’s rather entertaining to see YOU play that card.” Alastor hissed as you forced a neutral expression on your face. Of all the drunken conversations he would have heard during your rants to Husk. It was that one, he had heard. The subtle deflection of your marriage to dissuade an arch rival of your ex-husband. 

It was with that simple knowledge that your leg was once caught again in a bear trap. So, you had two choices, free yourself in the long painful process of prying it open or allow yourself to bleed out. 

The metaphorical wound sputtered once as the back of his ring finger grazed over your hand as you stormed past him. Now you really needed that bath as you could feel guilt seep in with the sticky alcohol covering your ruined coat.

He had to have the last word in at least one situation today.