#on top of the three to five i need to get dressed use the bathroom etc

[ghostgirl-22]

hiii I was thinking about the opposites of popular tropes and how they’d play out,, and instead of only one bed maybe too many beds?? so then I thought about pat and art getting a hotel booked for a tournament where they have separate beds (and maybe even a couch in the room too, just to really show that they don’t NEED to sleep together) but the beds are like bolted to the floor so they can’t be pushed together. they try and fall asleep like that, and maybe pat is successfully able to but some point in the night art wakes up anxious and hard and has no other option but to shake patrick awake and get some TLC!

I love the opposites of popular tropes thing! Lol

I once saw a picture of an airbnb with 3 separate twin beds lined up next to each other some place in Italy and immediately thought of ATP going on vacation there saying “we need a place that will sleep three please” and getting that. No threesome for you. Lol. This is a mess and hardly proofread but I hope it amuses you.

CW: 18+ NSFW

——

So Art and Patrick are with a small group of US boys national tennis champions all playing in an international tournament in Italy. They’re staying in hostel style housing, Art and Patrick are roommates but there’s just way too many beds in their room. There’s like five beds. Two bunk bed set ups and an extra twin all the way across the room. All the furniture is nailed down.

In the past few months at school Art and Patrick have been oddly conjoined. Art is so used to laying down in their dorm room. Patrick needs to be an inch away from Art’s face at all times when they’re talking. One night they were up late talking and Patrick just shoved his bed closer. Since then they still haven’t bothered to push their beds back. It was almost three months ago. But it’s fine they still have their separate space even with the beds together and Art kinda likes it when he’s in the room without Patrick cause he spreads out like he’s in a queen.

Regardless Art thinks this setup for the next two weeks abroad is amazing. The room is huge and they get to have it all to themselves. Each of them with more than enough space compared to their tiny room at Mark Reballato. Plus being the only boy at home he’s never even had a chance to use a bunk bed like his sisters got to. He claims the top bunk and they spend the day out exploring with teammates so they don’t fall asleep and remain jet lagged for the start of the tournament.

They’re beyond exhausted by the time they get home at 8pm. They’ve been up since 2 in the morning their time. Even with so many extra beds they still end up sharing one bunk set up, Art on top and Patrick at the bottom. Art gets out of the shower and Patrick takes his turn Art climbs into bed expecting sleep to take him quickly. But surprisingly he’s still awake when Patrick gets out.

He watches as Patrick gets dressed and then turns off the light. He’s restless after the lights go out. He imagines it’s the awkwardness of being in an entirely different place. A whole new environment. As tired as he is he just can’t fall asleep. He hears Patrick’s soft snores an hour later and sighs. He climbs down from the top bunk. Patrick is breathing shallow, side sleeping with half of his body leaning up against the wall. Art slips in carefully next to him.

“Wha—“ Patrick stirs.

“I can’t sleep man, move over.” Art whispers. Patrick sighs and scoots even closer to the wall so Art can curl up next to him in the twin bed. He falls asleep right away.

He wakes up in the morning with Patrick’s arms around him, his nose buried against Art’s neck, spooning him. He’s hard, Art can feel it. He untangles himself and gets up for the bathroom. Patrick stretches and sighs waking up and they don’t talk about it. The day continues as usual.

The tournament starts that afternoon. They play doubles against a Dutch team, twins. They’re decent and if Art had a worse doubles partner he might feel a little worried, but he and Patrick take them down pretty easily. They spend the evening out with teammates, exploring Rome, the Pantheon and the Trevi fountain. They eat too much carbs for dinner and have gelato for desert. Patrick finishes Art’s.

Art thinks by the end of the night he’ll be exhausted enough to fall asleep right away. He doesn’t use a top bunk this time. He gets into the bottom bunk on the other side of the room. Patrick across from him. Maybe it was being up high that had him awake and anxious. But again after they turn the lights off Art is awake and restless for almost two hours. It doesn’t matter which way he tosses or turns. He sighs and sneaks back into the bed with Patrick.

“I knew you’d miss me,” Patrick smirks, he’s awake this time as Art shoves him over.

“Yeah right, I think I’m just not used to Italy yet.” Art says.

“Yeah, okay.”

Art rolls his eyes and settles into the tight space next to Patrick and falls asleep easily. He dreams about Patrick, they’re playing tennis, singles, hitting the ball back and forth and back and forth in an epic rally. Moaning as they do it. Moans getting louder with every stroke of the racket. Breathing getting heavier. In the morning he’s waking up, his boxers sticky and soaked with cum, blankets tangled up around them, he’s got one leg thrown over Patricks heated thighs. Patrick has an arm over Arts chest and he’s still asleep.

Art hurries out of bed, hoping to clean up before Patrick gets the chance to make fun of him for having a wet dream at this age. But Patrick knows. He pushes the bathroom door open while Arts in the shower so he can piss in the toilet.

“What were you dreaming about last night?” He teases pulling the shower curtain back so he can look at Art. Patrick’s hair is a mess of sleep, his clothes all disheveled and the side of his boxers have a little spot where Art stained him too.

“It was nothing…being in a new place probably…please I’m sorry okay?” Art snaps dragging it closed again.

Patrick chuckles. “So not fair. If you were gonna get your cum all over me we could at least do it the fun way.”

Art shivers thinking about the last time they jerked off together. Younger but still too old to be doing it sitting across from each other on their beds. Art realizing he wasn’t imagining anything, that he was getting off on watching Patrick alone. He panicked and refused to do it again after that. God, he hopes he didn’t say Patrick’s name in his sleep.

He comes back to himself and realizes he doesn’t hear Patrick’s steady stream anymore. “Don’t flush,” Art says quickly because Patrick loved to play that game when they were younger at school so the water would go instantly hot.

“Fine dude, just hurry up. We’re late.”

They make it to the courts on time. Progressing through the tournament. They beat one team after another even as a few of their teammates from the US are eliminated. Every evening their sponsors hold an event where they get to explore Rome. The Spanish steps, the Vatican. And by the end of the week Art has tried sleeping in every different bed in the room including the one Patrick claimed. Much to Patrick’s amusement because he always ends up back in bed with Patrick. And every morning with the limited space of it being a twin and the inability to move any of the beds closer he’s more tangled up with Patrick than he’s ever been before. He’s smelling him and feeling him and practically cuddling him every night and sleeping like a baby.

Embarrassingly he has two more wet dreams during the week one in which he wakes up midway through horrified to realize he’s grinding on Patrick’s thigh. To which Patrick jokingly says “dude we should just start fucking at this point.” Before rolling over with a loud groan and going back to sleep.

Art is humiliated. Not sure what the proximity is doing to him. He doesn’t stay up too late thinking about it because Patrick’s snores lull him back to sleep. And Patrick thankfully doesn’t bring it up in the daytime.

By Friday, they’re probably the only Americans that made it to the finals and they don’t play again till Monday.

The legal drinking age in Italy is 18 which Patrick insists they take advantage of. They go out bar hopping. Showing ids to try any and everything. A couple of teammates from Nevada meet up with them and they all go to a club, flirt with Italian girls who barely speak English and end up near the basically empty Trevi fountain at 2 in the morning. Sharing cigarettes with 3 girls from the club. Outside there’s a small smattering of people. one guy thrums a Spanish guitar. An Italian couple singing along to whatever he’s playing on a bench near by. It sounds beautiful.

Theres another random couple, two guys making out against the wall. Art feels so tipsy he has to do a double take. Patrick smirks when he catches him do it and Art feels himself flushing.

The Nevada doubles team are drunkenly posing for pictures in front of the empty fountain while Patrick is asking for Italian lessons from the girls. He mispronounces words and it makes all three of the girls giggle. He points at Art to try it and when he gets it down the girl Patrick likes tangles her fingers in Arts hair and takes the cigarette from him. “So good and handsome. Maybe we go to bed and teach more things?” She smiles at him and Art nods.

“Yeah let’s go to bed,” Art grins at Patrick who rolls his eyes in response.

“I want to go to bed, come on,” Patrick whines, trying and failing another Italian pronunciation which makes them giggle more.

They’re not allowed to have anyone of the opposite sex in the hostel so they unfortunately have to say goodnight. The girls promise to come by the tournament grounds after work on Monday.

As they get ready for bed they’re both excited from the alcohol and the girls, giddy with nervous energy and arousal. Art doesn’t bother trying. He just gets in the bunk with Patrick. Patrick plays with his hair. “Show me how you say that word.”

Art smiles. “You have to be able to roll your Rs.”

“Know it all,” Patrick kisses him and Art’s eyes widen in shock. “Roll them, I wanna feel it.” Patrick whispers against his lips.

Art is holding his breath, so stunned. So hard. He whispers it.

“Again,” Patrick says. Art begins speaking and Patrick kisses him through it. Tongue slipping into Arts mouth. Before Art knows what he’s doing he’s tangled up, mouths pressed together. Hand down Patrick’s boxers wrapped around his big warm cock while Patrick is using his large calloused hands to jerk him off. Gasping into each other’s mouths while they get each other off. Art moaning his name. Telling himself it’s the girls that have him all worked up like this. Knowing it’s a lie. They come almost simultaneously and it feels like a relief from whatever Art has been feeling all week.

“Mm,” Patrick moans against his throat. “Better right? Now you don’t have to just dream about me.”

Art shivers. “How did you—was I—“

“Every night. Saying it in your sleep. I thought you were awake the first night honestly. Pressing up against me. I had to grab you to keep you still so I didn’t fucking do something I shouldn’t.”

“Fuck,” Art whispers.

“I mean I’m willing if you want to fuck me next,” Patrick grins.

Art has to laugh, incredulous. he’s just so confused. “The dreams were about tennis.”

“I’m sure.”

“No i promise. We were playing tennis but it…” he shivers remembering the way Patrick was moaning through his orgasm so similar to how he sounded in the dreams. “Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“So what now?”

“You close your pretty eyes and go to bed so we don’t sleep through brunch.”

Art sighs “I should clean up a bit,” and Patrick laughs.

“What?” Art demands.

“Nothing. It’s just kinda hilarious that all it took 5 beds and 6 nights to end up here.”

[dylawas-reblogs]

One thing I do look forward to about in-person work for the first time in four and a half years, even if it's 28 miles of travel both ways right during the worst winter months, is I can't be my father's free Chore Servant when he's too busy (read: disorganized and lazy) to sort things before he leaves for the day

[lolacelest101]

No Need For Privacy

18+ MDNI

Hii!!! This is my first story or anything like this that I write and publish so I am sure it will be bad. I would love to get your feedback and let me know if I missed anything in the TWs. I am a big fan of F1 and other mainstream spaces so I will try to do more in the future.

Happy Reading!

Word Count: 6131

Themes: Lando!Norris x Fem!American!reader, Embarrassing moment turn spicy, next door neighbor, close proximity

Smutty tings: wall pinning, voyeurism, exhibitionism, masturbation, mirror sex, p in v, unprotected sex (please practice safe sex!!!!), spanking, oral sex, slight edging, fingering, gagging, praise and degradation kink.

Your POV

I moved to Monaco a week ago with my two best friends from work, Liana and Aaliyah. It’s been a dream come true for all of us, especially since our company launched a new project in the Monaco branch and requested our expertise.

Settling in has been a breeze, mostly thanks to Alexander Qasemi, the top manager of the Monaco office. He has multiple investments in the area and offered to rent out one of his properties to us at a discount. It’s conveniently close to the office, and his wife, Catalina, has been a lifesaver, helping us get set up, showing us around, and pointing out all the spots we need to check out. Coming from Florida, Monaco feels like a mix of Palm Beach and Miami, but it’s still a world apart from Tampa, where we grew up.

The house has three bedrooms, each with its own view from the second floor. We picked rooms based on the views, but I ended up going for the one with extra closet space—even if it has a “boring” view of the street and a direct line of sight into the house next door. And judging by what I’ve seen, the neighbor isn’t big on privacy; I can see right into what looks like the main bedroom.

I wake up to Liana singing loudly to what sounds like a new song by The Weeknd, her voice filling the house. Squinting as sunlight streams into my room, I reluctantly drag myself up and into the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth, choosing to ignore my messy bed hair. Liana’s door is open, and she spots me staggering around like a zombie.

“Good morning, sunshine!” she shouts, singing along with the song. All I can think is, It’s way too early for this.

I shuffle back to my room and glance at the clock on my nightstand. It flashes 10:32 AM, and panic hits—I remember that Catalina mentioned she’d be here around 10:45 AM to show us more of the area, and she insisted we make time for it.

I rush back into the hallway, suddenly wide awake. “Liana, why didn’t you wake us up? Catalina’s gonna be here any minute!”

Liana smirks and says, “I did, about 30 minutes ago. Aaliyah’s already up and made coffee. You told me I was ‘handsome and sexy’ and asked for five more minutes.” She’s trying not to laugh, and my face goes red as I realize I was probably having an almost wet dream.

“Well… he sure was, wasn’t he?” I say, trying to brush it off. “But we still need to hurry.”

After a quick change into something suitable for the weather, I throw on some black skinny jeans that hug my curves, a short flowy black-and-white striped top, and sneakers.

“Y/N, come down! Catalina’s here,” Aaliyah calls up the stairs.

I see her car pulling up from my window, so I run down to grab a quick sip of coffee before she knocks on the door. Liana’s sitting on the couch, putting her shoes on, and I lean against the counter, downing my coffee like it’s a race. Aaliyah opens the door, greeting Catalina with hugs and kisses. I set my mug down, go over to greet her, and offer to make her a coffee before we start the tour.

Catalina’s dressed in a floral top and white pants, looking like the definition of “aging like fine wine.” Despite being in her 60s, she doesn’t look a day over 40. She radiates warmth, like a grandmother everyone wishes they had.

Liana goes back to grab her phone, and as Catalina and I step outside, we bump into a man with dark hair and intense eyes. Catalina lights up as soon as she sees him, opening her arms for a hug.

“Oh, Max! I didn’t know you’d be here!” she says, surprised, pulling him in for an embrace.

“It was very last-minute for the Monaco GP,” he replies, hugging her back. When he lets go, he glances at me expectantly.

“Max, this is Y/N,” Catalina says. “She moved here a week ago with her friends.”

Max extends his hand, and I shake it, trying to keep my cool. “Nice to meet you. I guess we’ll be running into each other a lot,” I say, smiling.

Holy shit, Max Fewtrell is staying next door! My mind races, and I make a mental note to change my Quadrant phone case ASAP—I don’t want him thinking I’m some obsessive fan.

Max’s voice snaps me back. “Ah, an American accent! Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

I laugh lightly as Liana and Aaliyah join us. I introduce them, and Max shakes their hands before introducing himself.

“Nice to meet you,” he says. “I’m not exactly your neighbor, but my best friend lives here, so you’ll probably see him more often than me. Oh—there he is now,” he adds, looking over my shoulder.

My heart skips. The only person this could be is Lando Norris, and I’m about to pretend I’m way cooler than I actually am.

I snap back to see Lando Norris, head down, fiddling with his car keys. When he looks up, he immediately spots Catalina, a smile breaking across his face.

“Hey, you! How’ve you been? I already miss having you as my neighbor,” he says, giving her a hug.

She laughs, “I’ve missed you too, but I brought you some new company, so you won’t miss me too much.” Catalina turns to us with a smile. “Lando, these are the new neighbors: Liana, Aaliyah, and Y/N.”

Lando shakes each of our hands. His grip is firm, his fingers slightly calloused, probably from hours on the simulator. When he gets to me, I feel his gaze linger a bit longer, like he’s trying to place me.

“I don’t mean to sound creepy, but… you’re the one sleeping in that room, right?” He nods toward my bedroom window.

Caught off guard, I stammer, “Uh… yeah, that’s mine. Why?”

A faint blush crosses his face, a sly grin forming as he glances back at me. “You might want to, uh… move your mirror. Just saying.”

It takes a second for the realization to hit, but when it does, I’m mortified. I remember putting my large gold mirror directly across from the window and how, last night, after a long day of rearranging, I decided to… “treat” myself, lights on and all.

My mind races back to that memory—me stripping down, lying on my bed, a vibrator in one hand…

I force myself back to the present, trying to salvage what little dignity I have left. “Oh! I didn’t realize anyone was home over there… It looked empty all week.”

Lando chuckles, his grin widening. “Yeah, I just got back last night. And… well, let’s just say I got quite the welcome back.”

The heat rising in my cheeks is unbearable, and I quickly turn to Catalina. “So, Catalina, you mentioned we have a lot of places to see today?”

I feel Lando’s eyes on me, making my skin prickle with heat.

“Yes! Let’s get going.” Catalina waves goodbye to the guys, and we start heading toward her SUV. As I walk away, I can still feel Lando’s gaze burning into me, like he’s savoring every second of my embarrassment.

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

Later That Night

The night air is warm and slightly humid, with a faint breeze blowing in from the sea. We’d just gotten back from the club, laughing and chattering as we climbed out of the cab. Aaliyah and Liana are still buzzing with energy, but I hang back a bit, enjoying the cool air on my flushed skin.

Liana nudges my shoulder. “We’re going inside to get some water. You good out here?”

I nod, waving them off. “Yeah, I just need a moment to cool down. I’ll be right behind you.”

They head inside, leaving me alone in the quiet of the street. I close my eyes, letting the night’s calm settle around me, when I hear footsteps. I look up, and there’s Lando, standing just a few feet away with Max at his side. Max offers a friendly nod before slipping inside, leaving Lando and me alone on the sidewalk.

“Well, look who it is,” Lando drawls, a smirk playing on his lips. “Didn’t expect to see you out here this late.”

I shrug, trying to act nonchalant. “Just needed some air. The club was loud.”

He steps closer, his gaze intense. “So, have you moved that mirror yet?”

I feel my cheeks heat up despite the cool night air. “Why do you keep bringing that up?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he says, his tone teasing. “Maybe because it’s hard to forget. Didn’t realize you were such an exhibitionist, but hey, I’m not complaining.”

I scoff, rolling my eyes. “I didn’t know anyone was watching. And I’m not an exhibitionist.”

He raises an eyebrow, the smirk never leaving his face. “Could’ve fooled me. You looked pretty comfortable up there, totally absorbed… didn’t even close the blinds.”

The tension between us is thick, the memory of last night making my pulse race. I cross my arms, feeling his gaze linger on me. “Well, you could’ve looked away.”

“Could’ve,” he agrees, stepping even closer until he’s barely a foot away. His voice drops lower, his tone laced with something dark and enticing. “But I didn’t want to.”

A shiver runs through me as his words sink in. We’re standing close enough now that I can feel his warmth, his eyes scanning my face, searching for something. His gaze drops briefly to my lips, and I can feel the air crackling between us, heavy and charged.

I tilt my head, giving him a challenging look. “You get off on watching your neighbors, then?”

His smirk deepens. “Not usually. But you’re not just any neighbor, are you?”

I swallow, feeling my resolve slipping. “And what makes me so special?”

Lando’s hand lifts, his fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from my face, lingering just a second too long. “Something about you… can’t quite put my finger on it.”

His voice is rougher now, barely above a whisper. Every nerve in my body is on fire, my breath hitching as his gaze drops to my lips again.

“What are you waiting for, then?” I murmur, my voice betraying a hint of a dare.

He chuckles softly, his fingers trailing down my cheek. “You sure you can handle it?”

I lean forward, closing the space between us just enough that I can feel the heat of his breath against my lips. “I think I can manage.”

Lando’s hand moves to my waist, pulling me a fraction closer until there’s barely any space left between us. “Careful, princess. Once we start, I might not stop.”

His words are a warning, but his eyes tell a different story—one that has me aching to close the distance, to see just how far this tension can go.

Just as Lando leans in, his hand firmly on my waist and his eyes locked on mine, the front door swings open, breaking the moment.

“Y/N!” Aaliyah calls out, her voice bright and oblivious. “You coming? We need you to settle a debate on which of us danced better tonight!”

I pull back, startled, and glance over at the girls standing in the doorway. They don’t notice Lando standing in the shadows just out of their line of sight.

“Uh, yeah, I’ll be right in,” I call, trying to keep my voice steady, heart still racing from the almost-kiss.

Lando chuckles softly, his hand slipping from my waist, though his gaze doesn’t leave mine. There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leans down, his lips grazing my ear, voice low and teasing. “Guess we’ll have to pick this up some other time, hmm?”

My breath catches, and I turn to give him a playful glare, but he’s already smirking, enjoying every second of my flustered expression. I can barely think straight, still caught up in the heated moment we were just sharing.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he murmurs, his tone laced with a promise that has my heart thudding against my chest. He steps back, giving me one last lingering look before turning toward his house. He pauses, glancing over his shoulder with that signature smirk.

“Don’t let those blinds stay open tonight,” he says, voice dripping with suggestion. “Or do. Your call.”

I feel a blush rising to my cheeks as he disappears into the darkness, leaving me there with my heart pounding and my mind racing.

I turn back toward the house, trying to regain my composure as I walk inside. Aaliyah and Liana are too caught up in their dance debate to notice the flush on my face or the slight tremble in my hands.

But as I head upstairs, all I can think about is Lando’s words, his hand on my waist, the almost-kiss that left me wanting so much more. That smirk, that challenge—it’s all burned into my mind, and I can still feel the heat of his touch lingering on my skin.

I lie in bed, staring at my mirror across from the window, replaying the night in my mind. And, despite my better judgment, I leave the blinds just a little open.

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

The Next Morning

I wake up to a quiet house, the morning sun streaming in through my half-open blinds. Liana and Aaliyah left early to grab some groceries, promising to be back soon, but I decided to stay and sleep in. After a while, though, I find myself wide awake and craving something sweet—specifically, chocolate chip cookies.

I slip into some cozy clothes and head downstairs, popping on some music as I pull ingredients from the cupboards. Soon, the smell of warm cookies fills the air, and I feel a little proud of my spontaneous baking session. Figuring it’d be a nice way to break the ice, I plate a few to bring next door later.

Just as I pull out the last tray from the oven, there’s a knock at the door. I wipe my hands on a towel, open it, and, sure enough, there’s Lando, standing there with his signature smirk.

“Morning, sleeping beauty,” he says, stepping in before I can even invite him. “Saw the girls head out and figured you’d still be here. Thought you’d sleep all day after last night’s… excitement.”

I feel my cheeks heat instantly, but I roll my eyes, trying to brush it off. “Good morning to you, too. And no, I don’t sleep all day. I’m actually productive.”

He glances at the mixing bowls and cooling cookies. “Productive, huh? Baking cookies for the new neighbors?” He reaches over, snagging one from the plate. “Are these just for me?”

“They’re for the neighbors,” I say, crossing my arms with a smirk. “But you’re welcome to have one.”

He takes a bite, savoring it with an approving nod. “Alright, alright—not bad. Didn’t peg you as a homemaker.”

“I’ve got layers,” I tease, nudging him lightly.

He chuckles, but his gaze drifts around the kitchen, taking in the scattered ingredients and my little baking mess. His eyes eventually settle back on me, a glint of mischief lighting them up.

“So, I gotta ask,” he says, leaning against the counter, “did you actually move that mirror? Or should I go check?”

I feel a flicker of heat under his gaze, but I keep my tone even, hoping he won’t catch on. “Of course I did. You were right—it needed to be moved.”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “Oh, yeah? Somehow, I don’t quite believe you.”

Before I can stop him, he’s already heading for the stairs, and my heart leaps. “Lando!” I laugh nervously, following after him. “You don’t need to go up there!”

“Need to see for myself,” he says over his shoulder, that smirk still on his face. “If you really moved it, then you shouldn’t mind me checking.”

He starts toward the stairs, and I blink, realizing what he means. “Wait, Lando—”

But he’s already halfway up, glancing back with that mischievous glint in his eye. “Come on, Y/N. Don’t tell me you’re shy now.”

I trail him up the stairs, heart racing. The truth is, I didn’t move the mirror—it’s still in the exact same spot, right across from the bed. And now he’s about to see it.

He steps into my room and glances around, his gaze landing on the mirror across from the bed, right where he left it in his memory. The corner of his mouth lifts, and he lets out a low chuckle, clearly amused.

“You didn’t move it,” he murmurs, his voice low and pleased.

I cross my arms, trying to play it off. “I like it where it is. Why should I change it just because you got an eyeful?”

Lando steps closer, his gaze never wavering from mine, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Maybe I want another one.”

The tension between us thickens, the air electric. He’s close enough now that I can feel his warmth, his gaze dropping to my lips before returning to my eyes. His hand moves up to gently brush a strand of hair from my face, lingering just a moment too long, fingers tracing down my jaw.

“You’re not afraid of a little attention, are you?” he asks, his voice soft, teasing.

I swallow, trying to steady my breathing. “Depends on who’s watching.”

He leans in even closer, his breath warm against my skin. “Then tonight… don’t close those blinds. And don’t move that mirror.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and filled with promise. My heart races, every nerve tingling as I meet his gaze, a challenge sparking between us that’s impossible to ignore.

Lando’s fingers linger on my jaw for just a moment longer, then he pulls back, that smirk still on his lips as he steps away.

“Enjoy your cookies, Y/N,” he says, glancing over his shoulder as he heads back downstairs, leaving me standing there, breathless, the echo of his words replaying in my mind.

As I watch him leave, I can still feel the heat of his touch, the thrill of his words searing into my memory. And tonight? Well, let’s just say I don’t plan on closing those blinds.

----------

Later That Night

As the sun dips below the horizon, casting Monaco in a warm, golden glow, I stand in front of my bedroom mirror, adjusting the last few things on my dresser. The blinds are open just enough, casting a soft reflection of the room and inviting in a sliver of the night. I glance over my shoulder at the window, knowing full well who might be watching.

I breathe in, feeling the excitement build. Tonight, I’m ready to give him that “show” he teased me about. I settle onto my bed, relaxing against the pillows, and allow myself to sink into the evening’s quiet. There’s an awareness in the air, the thrill of knowing that maybe, just maybe, I’m being watched.

I reach over to my nightstand, casually bringing out my favorite toys, a purple vibrating dildo and a vibrating toy in the shape of a tongue. Slowly, I begin to lose myself in the moment, all too aware of the tantalizing possibility that Lando might be watching from his window.

Just as I’m truly relaxing into the scene, there’s a firm knock at the door, shattering the silence. My heart jumps as I glance at the door, pulse racing. I hesitate, but something inside pushes me to go see who it is.

I make my way downstairs, opening the door just wide enough to see Lando standing there, his eyes dark, filled with that same mischievous look that’s been driving me crazy. He raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth lifting in a smirk.

“You left your blinds open,” he murmurs, his voice low and laced with suggestion. “Thought I’d come by and… check on you.”

In one swift motion, he closes the space between us, his hands sliding around my waist, pressing me firmly against the wall, his body heat igniting every inch of me. His gaze locks onto mine, daring me to pull away, but there’s no chance I would. He dips his head, his lips grazing my ear as he whispers, “You knew exactly what you were doing, didn’t you?”

I shiver, the thrill of his words sparking something wild and eager between us. His hands roam, fingers slipping under my shirt, exploring every curve as his lips capture mine in a kiss that’s hungry and unapologetic, each movement demanding a response.

As he carries me to the bedroom, there’s an electric anticipation, an unspoken promise that fills the space between us. The moment we reached my room, he pressed me against the wall, his hands firm on my waist, holding me steady. His gaze meets mine in the mirror across from us, dark and intense, every look fueling the thrill building between us.

He leans in, his voice a low murmur against my neck. “You knew I couldn’t stay away, didn’t you?” His words send a shiver through me, and he slides his hands along my waist, drawing me even closer, his touch both possessive and gentle, filled with the heat we’ve been holding back.

“I did—but I didn’t anticipate you barging in at this hour,” I manage to say between kisses, each one feeling more primal than the last. My core seems to have a mind of its own, my hips grinding against him, wanting more. Needing more.

He grins against my lips. “Didn’t take you for the needy type, princess.” He pulls back, sitting on the bed, leaving me craving the contact.

“Well, princess, not everything comes easy,” he murmurs, his gaze growing hungrier. “You teased me, so now it’s time you learn your lesson.”

I rise from his lap, tugging his shirt off in one motion, my hands exploring his toned chest and feeling his muscles tense under my touch. I trail kisses from his jaw down his neck, my lips grazing every inch, each one making my core ache with anticipation.

Sliding to my knees between his thighs, I reach the waistband of his trousers and boxers, sliding them down to let his hard cock spring free. My eyes, full of lust and need, are fixed on him, my mouth craving the feel of him. I waste no time wrapping my hand around his length, bringing my mouth to the tip, letting my tongue swirl slowly around the head before sliding down, inch by inch.

His moans and grunts grow stronger, more primal by the second. His hands grip my hair, pulling it into a makeshift ponytail, giving both of us a clearer view in the mirror.

“Fuck, princess, look at you, being such a good girl for me,” he growls, tilting my head to see his cock sliding deep into my mouth, the tip pressing at the back of my throat. Our eyes meet in the reflection, his grin never fading, eyes bright with satisfaction at the sight.

I try hard not to choke or gag as he picks up the pace, using my mouth for his pleasure. I can feel my own need intensifying, wetness pooling as I slip my free hand between my legs, seeking a hint of relief from the ache.

Just as I feel his cum on my tongue, sliding down my throat, my moans vibrate around his length, making him twitch in my mouth. His gaze shifts to the mirror, catching sight of my hand as I touch myself. In that instant, he releases his hold on my head and pulls his cock from my mouth, leaving a mix of confusion and hunger on my face.

“Princess… did I tell you that you could touch yourself?” Lando leans in, lifting my chin so our faces are close, his breath warm against my lips.

“No, you didn’t,” I reply, a hint of rebellion mixed with anticipation flashing across my face.

“Well, bad girls need punishments, so let me think of something.” An idea lights up his eyes as he guides me up onto the bed, positioning me on my hands and knees, facing the mirror. My mascara has smudged, trailing down my cheeks from the tears shed while he was in my mouth.

Part of me craves for him to finally take me and fill me up, while another part wants to see just what punishment he has in store.

He stands beside the bed and instructs me to keep my ass up and face down, so I adjust to ensure we’re both visible in the mirror. Once I settle, Lando’s hand trails from my hair down the arch of my back and onto my ass. He rubs my cheeks, his fingers dipping lower to feel my wetness, sticky and creamy, dripping onto the mattress.

“Look at you. So wet and needy for me,” he murmurs, bringing two fingers coated in my arousal back to my lips. I open my mouth, ready for a taste, and he slides his fingers in, letting me lick them clean. His breath is warm on my neck as he leans close to whisper in my ear.

“Good girls don’t touch themselves unless I say so.” He nibbles on my earlobe. “But it seems like you might just be my needy little slut instead.”

He steps away, the cool air hitting my sensitive core, sending shivers down my spine and adding a thrill to the moment.

Without warning, a sharp smack lands on one of my ass cheeks, the pain mixing with a tingling heat. He rubs over the reddened spot before delivering another smack, this time to the other side.

“Since you teased me twice, you’ll be getting four spanks—unless I see you haven’t learned your lesson.” He counts, “One,” landing a solid smack, then “Two,” and repeats on both sides. By the time he finishes the fourth, his hand has left my skin bright red, each touch leaving a sensitive, electric throb. A mix of pleasure and pain shows on my face with each strike.

“That’s it, my perfect princess,” he murmurs, brushing his fingertips gently over my sore, reddened skin. “You did so well. I think you’ve earned a reward, don’t you?”

“Yes, please,” I breathe, arching my back and raising my hips higher, my aching core desperate for attention. A grin spreads across his face as his fingers slip into my folds, rubbing my swollen clit, drawing a moan from my lips with every heavy breath.

Lando’s hunger grows more possessive as he slips a finger inside me, filling my tight heat. The sensation sends my body into overdrive, and the pleasure on his face only fuels the fire inside me. He slides another finger in, his free hand roaming along the curve of my arching spine.

His thumb continues to circle my sensitive clit, his pace quickening as he pumps his fingers in and out, each movement leaving me trembling with need. I bite my lip, trying to muffle my moans, but the pleasure is too much.

“Lando… I’m—close,” I manage to breathe out between gasps and moans.

“Oh, princess, I can see that,” he murmurs, sliding his fingers out of me suddenly, leaving an unbearable emptiness in their wake.

My wetness clings to his fingers in a glistening string as he pulls them away. “Fuck, you look so good on my fingers,” he growls, his gaze fixed on the sight of my arousal. Slowly, he brings his fingers to his lips, wrapping his tongue around them and sucking them clean.

“FUCK. And you taste ten thousand times better.” His eyes flutter shut for a moment as he savors the taste, the heat in the room climbing higher. The sight of him tasting me sends my brain spiraling into bliss, my gaping mouth wordlessly wishing for more.

Moments later, he leans down, his tongue sliding through my folds, the sensation stealing the air from my lungs. He places a light, teasing kiss on my core before beginning to suck and eat every inch of my pussy with eager determination.

“Fuck, you’re addictive, princess,” he murmurs against my entrance, the vibration of his voice making me shiver. His hands grip my ass firmly, spreading me wider, giving him full access to devour me.

His tongue teases my entrance, flicking and dipping inside, making my body twitch and ache for more. My hips start to move on their own, thrusting slightly, begging for him to go deeper.

Without warning, he flips me onto my back, positioning me for a better view. His hands grasp my thighs, and with quick precision, he pulls me to the edge of the bed. Dropping to his knees, he toys with my clit, his fingers circling and pressing before diving back between my legs, tongue working with unrelenting fervor.

“Now this, princess,” he murmurs between kisses and licks, his voice dripping with satisfaction, “I’d eat for breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the rest of my life.”

His words push me closer to the edge, my climax approaching rapidly as my legs begin to tremble. His grip tightens on me, holding me in place, preventing me from pulling away from his relentless mouth. My body shudders suddenly as the wave of relief I’ve been craving washes over me.

My fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as I grind against his mouth, riding out every pulse of my orgasm, my breaths coming in ragged gasps.

I feel my arousal spill into his mouth as he greedily licks and sucks, not letting a single drop go to waste. He stands, his eyes dark and filled with hunger, leaning in to kiss me. The taste of my release lingers on his lips, and I moan softly, lost in the sensation.

His hard cock presses against my core, grinding against me with desperate need, and I instinctively move my hips, craving to feel him inside me. His kiss grows rough and possessive, his hand sliding down from my neck to my breasts. He pinches one of my nipples, sending a jolt of pleasure through me and drawing a gasp that he swallows into the kiss, his grin wicked and satisfied.

“If my needy princess wants something, she has to ask for it,” he whispers, his lips parting from mine with a teasing grin, his breath warm against my ear.

His hand slides down to my clit, his fingers circling and flicking, sending jolts of pleasure through my body. My breath hitches, and a soft moan escapes my lips, my mind struggling to process his words.

“Use your words, princess. Tell me what you want,” he growls, his voice firm yet tantalizing, his fingers working me into a frenzy.

“Fuck me, please,” I murmur, my voice trembling as the heat builds in my core, every nerve in my body begging for him.

“Say that again, princess,” he demands, his tone dripping with playful dominance. “A little louder for me.”

“Fuck! I need you to fuck me—to feel you inside me. Please!” The frustration and raw need are evident in my voice, my body aching for him to claim me.

“That’s my good little slut,” he murmurs, satisfaction clear in his tone. He adjusts himself at my entrance, teasing me for a moment before slowly sliding inside, letting me adjust to his size. The stretch is overwhelming, and my fingers instinctively trail down his back, nails digging in and leaving marks. He jolts forward at the sensation, filling me deeper and making my head fall back, my back arching as I gasp at the sudden invasion.

He growls into my neck, leaving a trail of kisses and soft bites as he begins to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first. The rhythm shifts, his chest lifting from mine, giving him a full view of my bare body beneath him. One hand slides to my stomach, pressing down lightly as he picks up speed, fucking me harder and faster, his thrusts deep and commanding.

“That’s it, princess,” he growls, his voice raw with pleasure. “Fuck, you’re so tight. Let me stretch you just enough to make your pussy become a ring on my cock.” His hips slam into mine with a hunger that matches my own, the sound of our skin meeting echoing through the room.

As his thrusts grow more desperate, his hand reaches for the vibrating tongue toy on the nightstand. Without missing a beat, he presses it against my clit, the sudden overload of sensation making me throw my head back, a loud moan of his name escaping my lips as my hands clutch the sheets for dear life.

A wicked glint of satisfaction flashes across Lando’s face, his grin smug and proud. He leans in close, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispers, “Princess, as much as your moans are music to my ears, we can’t have your friends interrupting us right now—or finding out that their sweet little friend is such a good slut for the guy next door.”

Before I can respond, he grabs my black lace panties by the bed—the ones I’d removed during my earlier “show”—and gently pushes them into my mouth, muffling my cries of ecstasy as he continues to claim me.

My pussy clenches and twitches around his cock as his thrusts grow wetter, the sound of our movements filling the room. My orgasm teeters on the edge, his cum seeping into me, intensifying the sensation.

His growls and moans grow deeper and more primal. “Fuck, princess, you must be close,” he murmurs, his face satisfied as he watches my trembling legs and the euphoria written all over my face.

My muffled cries escape past the panties still in my mouth, vibrating softly in the heated air. “Cum for me, princess,” Lando commands, thrusting into me twice more. His words send me hurtling into my second orgasm of the night, my body convulsing around him as waves of pleasure consume me.

Lando’s thrusts grow sloppy, his grip on my waist tightening as he buries himself deep inside me. My pussy milks every last drop of his release, the warmth of his cum splashing against my inner walls. With a low growl, he slides out of me, both of our arousals dripping down my thighs and pooling onto the mattress.

He steps back, his eyes lighting up as he takes in the sight of my used, naked body, glistening and dripping with his cum. Slowly, his gaze traces every inch of me, savoring the evidence of what we’d just done.

“You know,” he says, his voice still thick with lust, “I might want this view every hour of the day from now on.” His tone is intoxicating, and he steps closer, gently removing the panties from my mouth before placing a soft kiss on my lips. “What do you think? You agree?” His smirk deepens, a dimple just beginning to peek through.

“I think that can be arranged,” I reply, wrapping my arms around his neck, a cheeky smile spreading across my face.

“Perfect,” he says, brushing his lips along my skin in a trail of butterfly kisses. “Let me start a shower for you, and then you can get some rest.” His voice is softer now, but still filled with care.

As he moves toward the bathroom, I pull myself up onto shaky feet, my body sore in all the best ways. Each ache is a reminder of every moment we’d just shared. I follow him, leaning on the sink in front of the mirror, catching a glimpse of my reflection—flushed, satisfied, and completely undone. The sensation of his cum still seeping out of me draws my attention, and I can’t help but slide a finger down to catch a drop, bringing it to my lips. I shut my eyes, savoring the taste.

Fuck, I need more.

Lando calls to me, his voice echoing softly under the sound of the shower. I walk toward him, wrapping my arms around his neck as he turns to face me. Pulling him into a sensual kiss, I whisper against his lips, “Are you up for a round two?” A glimmer of mischief dances in my eyes.

Lando grins at my request, his hands sliding down to rest on my hips. Leaning close, he murmurs under the steam of the shower, “I could never deny you a request like that, princess.”

The End

[ohsc]

requested by @prentissluvr | basic but completely adorable is sam trying to do his little girl's hair with his big hands and she's so small and he's like argh why is this so difficult T_T but he's trying so hard and he's so concentrated until she gets squirmy and he has to give up and do pigtails before she gets annoyed LOL

tysm for the request sweetheart this was SO soft to write i love your brain so so much <3 | juno verse, single dad sam winchester x fem!reader, 1.2k, fluff, pining, not proof read, requests only open for juno fics

“Like Fawn, daddy.” Juno told him, sat with her legs crossed on the bathroom counter, looking up at him through the mirror as she messed with the barbie she had held in her hands.

“Like who?” Sam asked, frowning in confusion as he brushed through her hair as gently as he could. Since she’d woken up that morning — and in turn woke him up by climbing into his bed and tugging on his hair — she’d insisted that she needed to look pretty for when Y/N visited. She was already dressed in one of her pretty dresses, a puffy blue thing covered in flowers. It was a little big for her, he’d had to roll up the sleeves, but there was no convincing her to wait until she’d had a growth spurt to wear it. On top of the dress, she wanted her hair to look pretty, too.

It was getting a little long, Sam knew that. They’d been living paycheck to paycheck for the past few weeks, he hadn’t had the money or the time to go and get it cut, and he was not going to attempt to do it himself.

“Fawn,” she scowled at him through the mirror like he was stupid. “Fairy. She likes Tink.”

Ah, the fairies. A week ago she’d decided that she was too big for princess and she liked fairies instead. The idea of her getting too big for anything made his chest squeeze uncomfortably with the idea that his baby was getting older. He could remember when she could fit comfortably in the palm of one hand.

“I thought you wanted a braid, Junebug.”

“Mhm.”

“Fawn has a braid?”

“Yes.” She scowled again and he almost laughed at how cranky she got sometimes.

“Sorry, baby, I forgot,” he leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “You want one or two?”

She held up two fingers before she went back to playing with her barbie.

Sam honestly thought it would be easy. He could kind of remember how Jess used to braid hers — though he tried not to think of her much anymore — and since Juno had less hair it seemed easier.

It took him five minutes to even part her hair as she kept moving around, and by the time he had a section in his hands strands kept slipping out of his fingers. His hands felt clunky, eyebrows scrunched in concentration as he tried to braid the three strands.

“Daddy,” she’d started squirming, and he bit his tongue to stop himself from complaining when she moved her head and he dropped one of the strands, the entire braid falling loose. “Done?”

He let out a breath through his nose. It wasn’t her fault, he usually just put her hair in a ponytail and tied a bow around it. “Not done, sit still please.”

He combed out the braid with his fingers and tried again, honestly a little irritated at how difficult it was.

She moved again and he tried to lean forwards as she did so not to pull her hair, but just ended up braiding the wrong strand of hair through.

“Juno, please,” he breathed out, letting go of her hair to shift her back in place on the counter. “You need to stop moving sweetheart.”

“Wanna play.” She whined, and when he glanced up at the time he sighed. He wanted to clean up a little and get some food going for when Y/N got there, and time was getting a little tight.

“Okay, alright Junie,” he leaned down and kissed her head, gave her sides a gentle squeeze as he looked back at her in the mirror. “Why don’t I just do some pigtails, hm?” She pouted and his heart aches. “It’s quick, and you can go play until lunch, okay?”

She nodded, and he kissed her head again with an apology before he brushed her hair and tied them into pigtails, securing two blue bows into her hair in the hopes that she’d find it just as pretty. It was a win when it earned him a sloppy kiss on the cheek as he lifted her up from the counter to get her down.

One of the bows was missing by the time Y/N got there.

She’d used the spare key to get in — she’d been doing that more recently, and he tried not to think about how it made his heart thump a little harder — and he’d been at the stove stirring the macaroni he was cooking, so he didn’t have time to stop Juno from running straight into her legs as she walked in.

“Hey princess!” Her voice was cheery despite almost getting knocked off of her feet, and Sam could hear his daughter giggling down the hall as he made sure the water wouldn’t bubble over before stepping out of the kitchen and into the hall. She had Juno on her hip, not even out of her coat yet, little arms tight around her neck with a tight hug. The sight made his heart swell, a dopey little smile on his face as he watched them for a moment.

“Are you all dressed up for me, Junie?” She cooed, hugged her to her chest, and beamed at Sam when she looked up and met his eyes.

His poor heart couldn’t take much more.

“Yes, s’my pretty dress,” Juno informed, chubby cheeks and a toothy smile. “Daddy did my hair wrong.”

He rolled his eyes. “Tattle-tale.” He scoffed, walking over to take his daughter into his own arms so Y/N could shrug her coat off. Juno didn’t seem to mind, just didn’t take her eyes off of the other.

“He did? Oh no,” she hung her coat up on the hook, and was smiling in far too much entertainment when she turned back around and faced them. “What did he do wrong? Is it the missing bow?”

“Want Fawn hair.”

Sam mouthed braids over the top of her head at her look of confusion.

“Ah, I see,” she reached out and gently combed her fingers through the ends of Juno’s pigtails. “Well, do you wanna know a secret, Junie?”

Juno nodded enthusiastically, and Sam almost dropped her when she leaned forwards fast to hear her.

“I know how to do braids,” she told her as if it was a secret, leaned down a little to be at her level. “Maybe you could go and get me your hairbrush and some pretty bows and I can do them for you, hm?”

“Okay!” Juno immediately started squirming and Sam laughed as he put her down, watched her run down the hall and into her bedroom, before he turned back to face Y/N.

“Thanks,” he breathed out a little laugh, a hand pushing through his hair. “Wasn’t gonna hear the end of that one.”

She giggled, smiled so pretty he thought his heart might give out. “Figured as much,” she stepped forwards and leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek, and he was definitely on the road towards a heart attack. “Maybe after lunch I could teach you how to do it? If she sits still for long enough.”

Sam practically grinned as he nodded. “Yeah, thanks.”

Oh he was so in danger.

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[7:06 pm]

(cw: f!reader)

a/n: here’s our boyyyyyyy!

"Stop looking at me like that, I'm mad at you right now!" You yell at fratboy!Jaehyun.

"Baby, you look so pretty though. I'm admiring you," Jaehyun tells you softly.

In any other situation you would be a puddle on the floor with Jaehyun's affection. Usually his star-dazed look would have you squealing and peppering his face with kisses until you were both out of breath. It was one of your favorite ways he looked at you. He made you feel so loved. He had dug out a full body mirror and set up a little "getting ready" corner for you near the outlet by a window in his room. Yes, it was cute. It was so sweet of him. You had even gushed over it, peppering his face with kisses for a full minute before you sat down and started doing your makeup.

But today, today the puppy dog, heart eyes weren't going to work. The nu chi delta formal was today and Jaehyun had begged you to get ready with him at the frat house. So here you were, on time, thinking you had more than enough time to get ready.

You were busy blending the eye shadows on your eyelid, making sure they were well blended. You still had to do your hair, your base makeup, and get dressed. Thankfully you had an hour left to get ready. An hour to make sure you looked perfect for the frat formal.

A knock came from the door and Johnny's head popped in, "You guys gonna be ready in half an hour?"

The eye shadow brush dropped from your hand to the floor, "half and hour? As in 30 minutes? Three Zero?"

"Yeah we want to get there a little early to make sure everything looks good, but we were going to leave at 7:30 anyway."

You stood up, pacing around the room in a panic, running your hands through your hair, "Jaehyun! You told me 8:15, 8 at the earliest."

"The calendar on the fridge has said 7:30 since we secured the venue. Bro, we definitely need to be on time, we're officers for the frat," Johnny added with his brows furrowed in confusion.

"Baby, I'm sorry. I thought it was 8:30," Jaehyun apologized genuinely with his stupid, puppy dog eyes.

You stopped your pacing, holding your hand up in Jaehyun's direction, "stop talking, ok. I have to finish doing my make up and- oh my god I only have my eyes done and I still have to do my hair!"

You rushed back to the mirror and with shaky hands began to hurriedly doing your make up. Johnny sent Jaehyun a sheepish, apologetic smile while he slipped out. of the room.

You took a deep breath, calming your nerves, "Ok, I have an idea. You can leave without me and I'll Uber there."

Jaehyun's jaw dropped, "No way! I'm not letting my girlfriend show up alone. My girl can't show up alone! I'll help you, tell me how I can help."

"Do you know how to use a straightener?"

Jaehyun replied eagerly, "No, but I'll learn to help you. Just tell me what to do."

You walked him through the steps and soon enough, with slow, precise movements Jaehyun was running the flat iron through your hair.

"Five minutes! Limo's are getting here in five minutes!" Someone called out from the top of the stairs.

"Ok we're done. You did such a good job baby, thank you," you smiled at Jaehyun.

"You still have to get dressed and I need help with my bow tie," Jaehyun reminded you, pulling your dress off the hanger and handing it to you.

He helped you with the zipper on the back and helped clasp the straps on your heels. While you tied his bow tie he even spritzed you with perfume.

You both made your way down the stairs and out of the house, almost out of breath.

"Looking goo everybody. Now remember, I want everyone on their best behavior tonight. This is not a house party, it's a frat formal. Please behave yourselves or face the consequences," Taeyong told everyone as they stood on the lawn.

"Consequences being, sober men at the next party, bathroom clean up crew, and chefs for a week," Johnny added with a deviously sweet smile.

You moved to join the other officers and seniors in the "exclusive" limo, Jaehyun grabbed your arm gently, "just a second baby."

He stood in front of you and with gentle movements reached toward your eye with with pointer finger and thumb, "let me fix your eyelash for you."

His warm breath fanned over your face as he helped you fix your false eyelashes. He pulled away assessing his work before giving you a nod and a smile, "done. You look beautiful, baby."

Your face warmed at his compliment, "Thank you, love."

He leaned in slowly, pressing a short but lingering kiss to your lips so as to not mess up he make up he watched you stress over.

"No way! No! What part of best behavior do you not understand Jaehyun?! Get in the limo and don't let me catch that happen again or Taeyong is going to have to drag my fighting body out of the venue," Haechan screamed angrily from the sun roof in the second limo, an accusatory finger pointed at Jaehyun. His gaze softened as he turned to look at you, "You, you look gorgeous. Seriously, we are not worthy of being in your presence. When- and I really mean when, you get tired of that himbo, I'll be wai-"

His body went down quickly, like he was pulled down while someone yelled, "Sorry about him!"

Jaehyun rolled his eyes with a chuckle, a hand on the small of your back to guide you into the limousine, "Let's go, baby."

[animasolaoriginal]

I n f a t u a t e d ♦️EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER ONE◾TWO◾THREE◾FOUR◾FIVE SIX◾SEVEN◾EIGHT◾NINE◾️TEN ELEVEN◾TWELVE◾️THIRTEEN◾FOURTEEN◾FIFTEEN SIXTEEN◾SEVENTEEN EIGHTEEN NINETEEN◾TWENTY

They start the day as normal as she's ever experienced with him, but in the end it's all just a ruse when he reminds her of her role, of his rules, and of the consequences should she break one...

ruthless nightclub owner ❌ innocent young woman with a crush

WARNING: NSFW! Explicit sexual content. Age gap. Size difference. Dubcon elements. Dom/sub dynamic. Public fingering. Humiliation. Sugar Daddy behavior. Sex toys under clothing. (For more tags, check it on AO3!) // WORDS: 8.9k

SEVENTEEN 🟥 EIGHTEEN 🟥 NINETEEN

She's still tired when he wakes her the next morning. Whether he used her during the night or not, she can't tell, she feels sore, but that's how she already felt when she fell asleep on him on the couch. Everything after that is gone from her conscious mind. And it doesn't matter either way. It's his right to do to her whatever he wants, if it makes him happy, she's fine with it.

What she's not fine with, but tries not to show too much, is how exhausted she is, and frankly a little hangry too, her stomach rumbling emptily, her limbs barely able to move. He pulls her out of bed, makes her brush her teeth and wash her face, superficially cleans his cum and her juices from between her legs. He also pulls the plug from her ass, finally. She can't even tell how long she's had that in there. The sudden emptiness feels weird, but she prefers it over the constant pressure.

He then dresses her in her pastel pink dress and nothing else because he either forgot about her panties in his pocket or doesn't want her to have that extra protective layer. While he dresses in fresh clothes he finds in the closet (a pair of jeans and a hoodie that looks good on him but strangely unfamiliar, too casual almost), he lets her use the bathroom, before he puts on her socks and sneakers, then drags her out of the cabin and into his car.

She feels like the doll she is, handled into place, buckled in, and with her head heavy and sleep still clinging to her, she lets him, kind of likes it even. It's easier that way.

If she would have been alone, she'd stay in bed for the rest of the day (or week). But he seems to be the more active kind of guy, always ready for the next adventure. Luckily the first thing he takes her to is a diner at the side of the road, somewhere rural, and the smells that assault her nostrils as he walks her into the heavily air-conditioned room, his hand tight around hers, make her almost drool in anticipation.

They sit down at a booth in the far back, she's in the corner, he beside her, and while she rubs her arms, he scans the menu, then waves the waitress over and orders something of everything. Unconsciously moving closer to him under the cold air, she flinches slightly when she bumps her shoulder into his arm, blushing when he looks at her. His arm moves around her shoulders and pulls her even closer before he kisses the top of her head.

“Are you cold?” he whispers. She nods, acutely aware of the shortness of her sleeveless dress and the lack of underwear. “We'll get you some clothes later, okay?”

She purses her lips. “What about... my backpack? It's still in your car, isn't it? I could wear something I brought...” It feels like forever ago that he asked her to pack up something she may need from her old apartment, but it was only yesterday, twenty-four hours ago, when her life changed completely.

He shakes his head. “I'd rather dress you up in something new,” he tells her quietly, giving her a wink.

Exhaling loudly, she looks away. “Why did I even bring anything then?” she mumbles under her breath, folding her arms over her chest, not just to underline her pouting, but to cover the goosebumps on her skin as well.

“What was that?” The sudden change in his tone makes her flinch, and she looks back at him, eyes widening, arms falling away. His gaze is dark, face stern, his body tense even with his arm around her in a casual manner.

“I... I, uh...”

“Speak up,” he says quietly, but with a demanding edge.

For a moment she's forgotten their roles, they've been so close, so comfortable around each other, but seeing him now, she can only duck her head, breathing harder, knowing she shouldn't have said anything.

“I –”

Footsteps sound behind them, and without breaking eye contact, she notices the waitress approaching their table. She presses her lips together and witnesses how his dark face lights up when he looks away and towards the woman carrying their order.

Suddenly he's smiling at the woman as she fills their table with various plates of different food items, and he thanks her with a soft voice, and she could swear the woman blushes, she even giggles when she nods her head and leaves again. Was he just flirting? In front of her?

She's pulled from one extreme to the next when he suddenly looks at her again, eyes narrowed, the darkness back in his gaze. She blinks in confusion, trying to make sense of the conflicting emotions.

“We'll talk about this later,” he tells her sternly, retrieving his arm from around her shoulders, before he pushes the plate of pancakes towards her and puts a fork next to it.

She swallows hard, lowers her head. “Yes, sir,” she mumbles, focusing on the deliciously smelling food under her nose.

Her stomach tenses, but not in anticipation of nutrients. Suddenly she's back being bent over the back of his car, his belt whirring through the air and landing blow after blow on her soft skin. (And that was when he didn't have a reason to punish her.) The welts still burn, but she is sore all over so it blends into her other aches as she shifts on the seat.

She feels him looking at her, and the cold isn't just in the air around them, it's growing inside her. Poking at her pancakes, she tries to ease her breathing and the beating of her frantic heart. Was it disobedient to question his ways? To go back on his generosity to let her pack something from her old life, even if he doesn't allow her to use it anymore? It's not fair, but this has never been about fairness. He takes what he wants, she has to do what he says.

And she even has to endure if he flirts with other women, because why shouldn't he? But it still stings, to see him smiling at that waitress while he glares down at her now. It doesn't matter that she's the girl he decided to fuck, but maybe she'll like to see that smile as well? It's selfish, and a want she shouldn't have, she reminds herself as she chews on the first bite of pancake.

“I thought you were hungry,” she hears his low voice, and quickly looks up, straightening her shoulders.

“I... I am, I'm sorry,” she whispers, looking at him as she picks up another piece, but the fork misses her mouth slightly and pokes her cheek, smearing syrup all over her skin. A little whine escapes her, but before she can panic more, he's grabbed her hand and puts the fork down, then wipes at her soiled cheek, holding her gaze.

“Relax,” he says quietly, bringing his syrupy finger to his lips and licks it clean. She swallows and nods, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.

“I am sorry, though,” she urges out.

He gives her another stare, even though his face isn't as dark anymore. “Eat,” he tells her and motions towards her plate.

She nods quickly and focuses back on her breakfast, picking up the fork with a shaking hand. Trying to keep her head empty (trying to think back to the times she's felt good and comfortable with him), she eats in silence, barely registering how he finishes his plate of bacon and eggs.

He's sipping on his coffee when the waitress returns, and she stares down at her emptying plate, breathing harder when another giggle comes to her ears. Stupid woman. Go away, she thinks darkly, a deep shiver that's not from the AC crashing through her.

“Can I bring you anything else? Maybe a juice for your daughter?”

She almost chokes on her pancake bite, coughing roughly as she feels her cheeks burning up. His hand is on her back, patting it gently, but he's still facing the waitress.

“No, thank you. I'd like the check though,” he replies, not even fixing the woman's mistake.

She doesn't look that young, does she? Well, she is still wearing that stupidly cute dress with the modest collar and the stupid flowers, and it's pink, and ugh, this can't be happening. If only that stupid woman could see the state of her thighs and the bruises on her neck and that she's not wearing any panties because he took them from her because he probably wants to keep easy access to her cunt so he can – oh god, what is she even thinking?

She bites the inside of her cheek so hard she's tasting blood, the sudden sting distracting her from her erratic thoughts. Breathing rougher through her nose, she shoves the last of her pancake into her mouth, chewing aggressively, still trying to ignore anything around her. The waitress just walks away, and as soon as she does, his hand moves under the table and dips right under the hem of her dress, eagerly slipping between her legs and poking at her folds, as if he's had the same thoughts just now.

She gasps softly and stares at him, swallowing hard to get the pancake down. His eyes are darker, pupils blown, and so intense she can't look away. He's moving his finger up and down her slit, and she can't help it, she's wet, and her thighs twitch, and –

Suddenly the waitress returns, check in hand, but he keeps his hand right where it is. She clamps her legs together in panic, but he doesn't care, just turns to the woman and hands her his credit card with his other hand – and another smile when she leaves them again. She squirms against him as he pushes his finger deeper, teasing at her entrance, but the more she protests, the rougher he gets, eventually forcing his way into her, adding another finger, curling them.

She's aware that her cheeks are burning, that her breaths are too fast, her shoulders shaking slightly as she tries not to move against his ministrations. The woman returns to the table and hands him his card, which he accepts with a casual nod of his head, another damn smile, and an infuriatingly nonchalant air around him as if he isn't fingering the girl the waitress declared his daughter in this very moment...

Luckily the skirt of her dress is long enough, the table positioned just so nobody can see the scene, but she still cannot completely halt her reactions. He leans against her when he slips his wallet into the back pocket of his jeans, allowing him to push his hand further and his fingers deeper, and she croaks out a muffled moan, immediately putting a hand on her mouth as she stares at him with wide eyes.

His eyes hold her hostage, dark and intense, but only for a moment before he sits back and focuses on the waitress gathering their empty plates. The woman looks at her then, a frown on her face.

All she can do is clear her throat and lower her hand, face flushed even more.

“Are you alright, dear?” the woman asks, and she blinks, forcing a smile with tight lips, and nods. The waitress pulls her eyebrows up but doesn't press it any more before she leaves their table, plates balancing on one hand.

“You gotta learn to keep quiet,” he whispers, leaning back into her, his voice low in her ear, his breath hot on her cheek, his fingers deep in her cunt.

“M'sor-ah!” she chokes out, swallowing another moan when he curls his fingers and scrapes his short nails over her soft flesh, teasing that special spot. Her eyelids flutter, her stomach tenses, her head spins from the onslaught of sensations. Knowing that they're in a public space only adds to her heightened senses, and she can't help it when her walls clamp around his fingers, causing her to sit up in her seat with a jerk.

“Shh,” he makes, increasing his motions, now also teasing her clit with every deeper push. She furrows her eyebrows, pressing her lips together, forcing herself to remain calm and quiet, which seems absolutely impossible to achieve with her insides positively aflame by now.

“P-please,” she breathes through tight lips.

“Please what?” he whispers back, leaning casually in his seat, free arm draped over the back of the bench, eyes scanning the room while his fingers pump into her with reckless abandon.

“P-please... st-stop...” she gasps, squirming more against him, hands grasping at his wrist.

“Are you telling me no?” he asks, his tone as casual as his demeanor, but she can tell there's a darkness behind his words.

She whines quietly, clamping her thighs around his hand, trying to stop him. “N-no, I... I mean... please... not here...” she mumbles, looking at him with pleading eyes.

He meets her gaze, tilting his head. “You are telling me no,” he says. “And you know what that means.”

A cold shiver runs down her spine. She's so tense, sweaty and teetering on the edge, but she doesn't want to let go here, and somehow facing punishment for disobeying him sounds better than climaxing in a diner full of people. Even if he'll belt her again. In this moment, humiliation burns brighter than any pain he can inflict.

He stops, resting his fingers in her clenching cunt, and she breathes deeply, her body shaking as the impending release slowly deflates again. “You sure?” he asks again.

And to her own surprise, she nods.

His eyebrows shoot up, and he pulls his fingers from between her dripping folds, the quiet squelching sound the last bit of embarrassment she hopes to endure. Pressing her thighs together to keep her juices to herself, she sinks into the seat, exhaling loudly in relief.

He stares at her as he brings his wet fingers to his lips, casually licking them clean. The heat crashes through her again. Before she can fully recover, he stands up and holds his hand out to her. She takes it hectically, not wanting to add even more disobedience to his list. He pulls her up, his free hand finding her face before he tucks her hair behind her ear, fingers tracing the bruises on her neck.

She shivers, stares up at him, her heart beating out of her chest. Her thighs are sticky, and she's aware that the back of her dress might be a little wet as well. But she focuses on him, tells herself she doesn't know these people and will probably never see them again. Then his hand smooths down her dress, curves around her rear, pushes the fabric slightly between her legs, gathers her wetness, and before he eases it out again, he presses against the back of her thigh, right against the stinging welts.

She jumps, barely able to refrain from crying out. He stares down at her, shaking his head threateningly. She's close to crying now, and even more so when he sighs loudly, gives her butt an audible pat that makes her wince and grabs her wrist to pull her after him, not to the exit, but to the restrooms.

Stumbling after him, she's acutely aware of the many pairs of eyes following them. The waitress gives her a sympathetic smile, probably thinking she had an accident or something. Stupid girl, chokes on her food, can't control her bladder, what a disgrace...

The first tear slips from beneath her lashes when he pulls her into the room and closes the door behind them with a click. Breathing heavier, she squeezes her eyes shut for a moment, lets more tears spill from them, before she finds the last bit of strength inside her.

He's about to pull her into a stall, when she puts her feet down, making him look back at her with a frown, then she closes the distance between them and puts her free hand on his face, looking up at him pleadingly.

“What are you doing?” he asks, his voice low and dark, the creases between his eyebrows deepening.

“I... I want to say that I'm sorry. I... I didn't do as you wanted, and I'm sorry, I am, really, please believe me,” she stammers, voice a desperate little hum, leaning against him, hoping that physical touch and closeness may ease his bad mood, may save her from whatever punishment he has in store for her.

He stares at her, jaw clenching under her palm. “Are you bargaining with me?”

She blinks.

“You said no to me,” he starts, letting go of her wrist to grab her throat, fingers digging into the bruises, aligning with the marks the same hand has left before. “And you know you are not supposed to.” She nods frantically. “And I told you I will punish you if you disobey me. You disobeyed me, so I have to punish you, isn't that right?”

She pulls her eyebrows together, sniffling helplessly. “Yes, sir,” she whimpers, swallowing against his hand. “But –” she keeps going, knowing it'll only get worse, but she has to try.

He shakes his head, cutting her off. “No more bargaining. I decide what I do with you, when I do it, and where I do it...” He pushes her backwards by her throat until her lower back slams into the sinks. She lets out a breathless whine. His gaze darkens.

“P-please...”

His hand tightens around her throat, it hurts, but whatever he wants to do to her next will probably be worse. Her fingers brush against his wrist as she looks up at him.

“What did I say?” he hisses, leaning closer until he presses his nose against hers.

“Y-you... decide...” she stammers, barely able to get the words out.

“I do,” he whispers, staring her down. She shudders under the intensity in his eyes, the fluorescent lights above them only amplifying the darkness within him. “And if I want to spank you in this very bathroom, I will do it.” She whines pathetically. “And if you don't keep quiet, I will most definitely do it...”

She freezes, frowning slightly. He leans back then, letting go of her throat. Watching her for another moment, he sighs, then swiftly pulls his hoodie over his head, revealing a tight black T-shirt beneath that emphasizes his strong arms, muscles and veins shifting under his tight skin. She stares at him, confusion washing over her. He looks down at her, then pulls her away from the sinks by her elbow and turns her around.

She meets his gaze in the mirror, but whatever she has feared he would do, he doesn't do it, instead he wraps his hoodie around her waist, turns her around once more and knots the sleeves together in front of her stomach, ultimately covering up the wet stain on the back of her dress. She sniffles as a strange kind of pressure falls off her.

His hands find her shoulders, his gaze dark as he looms over her. “Do you really think I would spank you in the restroom of a full diner?” he whispers, a malicious little smirk dancing around the corner of his lips.

She swallows whatever remark wants to break free from her clouded mind and presses her lips together.

“I've done crazier things, but I am not that stupid,” he adds with a sigh and straightens up again, wiping his fingers over her wet cheek. “But don't worry. I won't forget. You'll get your punishment.”

A cold shiver runs down her spine, a strangled sob escaping her throat. He watches her for another moment, then nods towards the sink behind her. “Wash your face,” he orders, and she turns around quickly, opening the faucet with shaking hands and lets the cool water run over them, then splashes it carefully onto her burning face. He hands her a paper towel from the dispenser, and she dries her cheeks and forehead with it, focusing on the task instead of her frantic breaths.

Wiping the rest of the water away with her hands, she then turns around and looks up at him. He reaches towards her and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, nodding contently. Then he grabs her wrist and pulls her after him, already opening the door, when she tugs gently on his hand. He turns around, giving her a glare, but she bites her lip and whispers “Thank you” as she curls her fingers into the hoodie tied around her waist.

He relaxes slightly and gives her another nod, then continues to drag her through the diner. Again she's aware of the eyes on her, but she tries vehemently to ignore them and keeps her head low when she follows him.

“Have a lovely day!” the waitress calls after them, and while she ducks her head, he slows a little and turns around slightly, replying, in a friendly tone she's rarely heard from him: “Thanks, you too, Nancy.” He even raises his hand to wave at the woman who probably blushes again, giggling like the school girl she hasn't been in decades. Stupid Nancy.

Something cold mixes with the heat of embarrassment churning in her stomach. They leave the diner under the soft ring of the bell above the door, then step into the bright sunlight. He pulls her right to his car, opens the passenger door and lets her get in. Despite everything he still leans over her and buckles her in, but he doesn't look at her when he does so. She sinks into the seat when he slams the door shut and walks around the hood to his side, leaving her to stew in her own mind.

The first punishment he gives her is silence – and after what feels like forever, she thinks it is worse than any pain he could inflict upon her. He's not looking at her, one hand is curled around the steering wheel, the other resting on the gear shift, close to her seat, but he's never touching her either. He just drives, eyes on the road, there's no radio to distract her, just her own dark thoughts.

But she doesn't want to go down that path again, so she keeps squirming on her seat, feeling the stickiness between her thighs, that empty feeling in her cunt, remembers his fingers there, his cock, his mouth, and in the end she feels she's getting even wetter, probably now also staining the hoodie he gave her.

Her fingers play with the sleeves, feel the soft material, she can smell the subtle scent on it, and of him, of course, right next to her, and more than once, she looks to her side, almost longingly, pleadingly, hoping to catch his eye, but he never indulges her. So she just watches him, lets her eyes wander over his toned torso, those strong arms, follows the veins down to his hands to then stare at the tendons moving under his skin when he moves his fingers.

He looks so casual in just that T-shirt, not as intimidating as in a suit, but he's still that big wall of muscle next to her, unapproachable, almost scary. She wonders what punishment he'll show her whenever they arrive wherever he wants to go, and then she thinks back to why she deserves it.

That comment about her uselessly packed backpack has been ungrateful, she knew it the moment it left her mouth, but in a normal conversation it wouldn't have been that bad, nothing to be angry about, really. But normal doesn't define what they have, what he pulled her into. There's nothing normal about taking a girl from a club and keeping her as his own personal sex doll or whatever he sees her as.

But that is what she is, isn't it? These last days have been so intense, so physically and mentally straining, she can't even recall all the different things he made her do, forced her to, pushed onto (and into) her. It is all a blur, and her body is as confused as she is, no longer distinguishing between soreness from within and from outside, it's all one big pain as her muscles try to adjust to the unfamiliar sensations.

Shifting on her seat again, she looks away, out of her window, but she can't see the landscape rushing by, the small towns they drive through, her eyes are unfocused, remembering him even though he's right next to her. Remembering his fingers under her dress, in the diner, remembering how she denied him.

Did he really expect her to be okay with being forced to have an orgasm in a public space, surrounded by people who were already staring at them, because they were strangers, because he's that grown-ass man and she's that girl looking younger than she is, apparently. Making them believe she wet herself was only part of the problem. It was the forcing her to say no to him, knowing fully well that she's not allowed. But what was she supposed to do?

A sigh escapes her, but he still doesn't acknowledge her. And now she's not only left dreading whatever comes next, but also feeling the ache inside her, the itch that needs to be scratched, that she denied herself...

Her fingers flex around her knees, gripping the hem of her dress, tracing the little flowers. She's stewing in her own thoughts (and juices) for a while longer, before it all gets too much, and she looks back at him, opening her mouth – only to freeze when he suddenly looks at her, eyes dark, face stoic, and she realizes he's pulled the car into a parking lot and has killed the engine.

She blinks in confusion, looks around, before she feels his large hand gripping both of hers, holding them tightly. Staring back at him, she holds her breath in anticipation (while also savoring the warm touch, no matter how demanding it is). His eyes wander over her face, looking her up and down.

“You'll behave in there, won't you?” he then says quietly, his voice that low hum that goes straight into her tense stomach and lower.

She nods eagerly, happy that he's talking to her again. “Yes, sir, of course,” she replies quickly, licking her lips.

“You'll do as I say, no matter what?”

“Yes.” There was a little hesitation but she still got the word out.

“No matter what,” he repeats, squeezing her hands. She nods again, breathing a little harder.

“No matter what,” she whispers, chewing on the inside of her cheek.

“Good,” he says and lets go of her, then unbuckles his seat belt and gets out of the car to round it. When he opens her door, he points to the buckle of her own seat belt, and for the first time doesn't lean over to open it himself.

She fumbles with it nervously, then pushes the seat belt away and follows his nod to get out. He's not offering her his hand. Once she stands outside, next to the tall man looking so grim she feels tears prick at the corners of her eyes, she notices they're in a large parking lot of an even larger department store. People stream in and out of the building constantly.

Suddenly she feels nervous and slouches her shoulders in an attempt to make herself even smaller. Her heart beats faster. It's not just the threat of him making her do whatever right here in public, it's the people themselves. She hates crowded stores, people are loud and stressed and everywhere. Swallowing hard, she blinks the tears away, focuses, but in the end the need for comfort is bigger and she reaches her hand out to touch the side of his leg.

He looks at her, so tall but slightly less intimidating than facing all these faceless people, and he seems to sense her nervousness, seems to pity her for it. With a loud exhale he slips his hand around hers and holds it tightly, then gives her a nudge and pulls her after him. She follows immediately, eager to stay as close to him as possible.

The walk through the giant store is a blur, she focuses on his warm hand, on his confident steps, his tall body blocking her from most of the things that make her nervous, but the more they walk, the more anxious she gets of the man beside her. What is he planning? What will he do?

He pulls her into the clothing section and heads straight to the changing rooms in the back, small boxes separated by thin sheets of wood and a flimsy curtain in the front. She watches him when he looks around the section, then pushes her into one of the stalls and steps in behind her, pulling the curtain shut.

She's pressed against the wall, he is right there in front of her, chest to chest, and when she looks up at him, her heart racing, he tilts his head and studies her for a moment, then leans down a little and unties the hoodie from around her waist. She holds her breath, timid and afraid, too nervous to move much. She doesn't even stop him when he grabs the hem of her dress and pulls it over her head, leaving her completely bare (except for her socks and sneakers).

Shivering badly, she doesn't dare to pull her arms around her chest to cover herself, just stands there, thighs pressed together, hands by her sides, fingers twitching. He holds the hoodie and the dress in one hand, then raises the other to slide his fingers through her hair, pushing it away from her shoulder, exposing her bruised neck. There's a large mirror to her left, and she can see the dark red and purple marks, his fingers scorched into her pale skin, a reminder of his strength, of his unpredictability.

He moves his hand down her arm, gives one breast a gentle nudge, then closes his fingers around her waist, pulling her against him as he leans over her to whisper into her ear: “You'll stay right here until I come back, understood?” She nods, breathing harder, feeling the warmth of his chest pressing into hers, the heat of his breath on her sensitive skin, the unspoken threat in his words taking root in her heart. “You wouldn't want to be caught like this, right?” he adds in a mocking tone, then leans back to rake his eyes over her naked body.

She swallows, nods again, looks at him timidly from under her lashes. “No, sir. I'll stay right here...”

“Good girl,” he whispers, giving her the hint of a smile, though it doesn't reach his eyes.

His praise, no matter the circumstances, still hits its mark and makes her clench around nothing, and she squirms slightly on the spot with her thighs rubbing together.

He notices the movement. “Do you have to pee?” he asks bluntly, and she blushes deeply, shaking her head vehemently. His hand is moving around her rear, teasing between her legs. A soft but dark chuckle escapes him as he dips a finger between her wet folds. “I see,” he whispers and leans in again, brushing his lips against her ear. “Do you want to come, baby girl?”

She gasps, squirms more, unconsciously grinds against his hand. But before she has to deny him once more (which she almost wouldn't have as she considers that there weren't too many people around), he leans away and wipes his finger along her hip. Looking down at her darkly, he gives her a wink, then steps back.

“Be right back,” he tells her and slips through the curtain, leaving her alone and naked and completely flustered.

He takes his sweet time, doing whatever he does, and she just stands there, shifting from one foot to the other. She's managed to cross her arms over her chest, rubbing her forearms against her hardening nipples. The AC seems to blow right into the stall, but it's actually quite nice, because the heat coursing through her body seems unbearable otherwise.

Her core is aching, and for only a moment she is tempted to slip her fingers between her legs and handle the situation on her own, but shame and fear pushes that thought away again. Inhaling deeply, she listens to the noises around her. The faint music playing in the back, voices of passing customers, footsteps coming closer and leaving again.

One time, someone steps really close to her stall, and she quickly grabs the edge of the curtain and holds it closed, mumbling “Occupied!”, and a grunted “Sorry” comes back. Her heart is racing, and, still holding the curtain, she leans against the wooden wall and tries to catch her breath, ease her nerves.

Eventually she relaxes, slips into the furthest corner of the small square room and stares at herself in the mirror for a bit. It's a frightening sight. She's bruised all over from where he's grabbed her, held her tightly, choked her, and she remembers the situations, remembers the hard thrusts of his cock, the strength in his arms, the weight of his body, the warmth, the noises when he came deep inside her...

Covering her burning face, she groans into her hands, squirming on the spot again as her cunt clenches in a need she never felt before. Is it because he hasn't fucked her yet? She woke up and he dragged her away, to the diner, to this store, and the last time she's felt his cock inside her has been... she squints as she tries to remember... on the table, before he choked her into unconsciousness. She gave him head after that and he fingered a few orgasms out of her, but the kind of sex where he just takes and uses her, where she's that pliant thing in his arms, that feels like a very distant memory (even if it wasn't).

She's gone all her life without sex before he took her away, and now, after only three days of intense... sexual exercise, for lack of a better term, she feels the need to do it all the freaking time, and even a few hours without makes her feel itchy and restless and desperate.

What has he done to her? What has he turned her into? What has she become?

A sudden noise rips her from her thoughts, and then he's back, standing tall inside that tiny cubicle, towering over her, several pieces of clothing draped over his arm. The sight of him makes her feel both calm and anxious, and her core is just happy to see him, shedding a few drops of moisture that slip slowly down her inner thigh. She doesn't even care anymore at this point.

He looks at her for a moment, waits for her arms to fall to her sides, then starts putting the hangers on the hook on the wall. She sees many different colors, soft pastels mostly, but also some whites and blacks. Dresses, skirts, blouses, shirts. Obviously no underwear.

He makes her try on everything, and even if she was a little apprehensive at first, she moves almost automatically when he makes her strip over and over again. While she slips into the different outfits, he observes her silently, barely shows any reaction to the tight dresses, the short skirts, the revealing blouses or form-fitting shirts. He has a good eye, managed to find her size almost perfectly.

Whenever she's done, he takes the clothes, puts them back on their hangers and separates them into two sides, and in the end he chooses two black skirts for her (a pleated one that's really short, barely fits over her butt, definitely shows the red welts on the backs of her thighs and most definitely will flash anyone who stands behind her if she has to bend down, and a flowing one that's covering at least the middle of her thighs) and a soft pastel yellow, long-sleeved blouse that's tied in the front, showing off the flat of her stomach and the hint of her boobs with a plunging neckline (she hopes he'll buy her a push-up bra too, but he seems content with how it is).

He also decides on a long dress that brushes along the floor with how short she is, black with white accents in the bust, a belt on the waist and a large bow in the back, sitting right on the swell of her rear, letting the dress flare out a little. She feels most comfortable in that, it looks so fancy, and she can imagine herself standing next to him in his elegant suit, holding onto his arm, beaming up at him like the women do in those old movies.

For now she is again just the naked girl in the way too tight changing room, waiting for the man next to her to give her something to wear so they can finally leave the store. But he doesn't seem to be done yet. He takes the clothes he didn't choose, gives her another pointed look, and leaves through the curtain once more. She sighs and brushes her hand along the black dress hanging on the wall.

He probably expects her to be grateful for this, and she is, of course she is, nobody has ever gone through the hassle of buying her clothes before, but she wonders how she can repay him, what he wants from her in return. She's already doing (almost) everything he asks of her, what could he possibly expect now? What if he asks her to suck him off in the middle of the store? To spread her legs on one of those display tables? Bend over those clothes carousels? She shudders just thinking about it. Not the act itself (because her cunt is still weeping for him), but to be surrounded by people watching them...

How would she react if she'd see a couple doing it in public? Hearing those moans and grunts, seeing their bodies moving together? It's definitely not something one would see while shopping for clothes or groceries, it's frowned-upon, forbidden for a reason. He wouldn't do that, would he? It wouldn't be good for his reputation as well, she'd assume.

She has no idea where she is now, certainly not in the city she met him, but maybe they know of him here too? He's a popular bachelor, she's seen his face on those fancy business magazines displayed in dingy newspaper kiosks, he's known, he wouldn't just throw that away to humiliate her in public, right?

She's again ripped from her frantic thoughts when he returns, this time carrying a bunch of shoes with thin leather straps, skillfully balanced between his fingers, some high heels, some wedges, some flats. He immediately bends down and grabs her left foot, and she has to hold onto his shoulders for support as she watches him take off her sneakers and socks, then slips her feet into each pair, one at a time, lets her balance on them (again he's picked the right size on instinct or accident), his warm fingers always in contact with her ankles, a comforting touch that fuels the need within her.

He's surprisingly patient, calm and collected, and his cool demeanor makes her feel safe – despite those nagging thoughts of what may happen after they are done shopping. For now she enjoys the moment, the gentle touches, the way he looks at her. When she's tried on every pair of shoes, he puts them all back between his fingers, then gathers the clothes he chose for her over his arm.

But as he turns around to leave again, she feels the sudden urge to grab him, hold him back, and her fingers brush against his back before digging into his shirt. He stops, turns slightly and looks down at her over his shoulder, raising his eyebrows questioningly.

She shifts on her naked feet, rubbing her bare arms, biting her lip. “What am I supposed to wear?” she asks quietly, suddenly afraid he may force her to streak through the department store.

“I'll be right back,” he only says, not answering her question, and before she can do anything, he's slipped through the curtain once more, leaving her behind, naked, shivering under the AC, confused as ever.

More time passes (and she's back in her own mind, thinking about things that already happened, that could happen in the future, that hopefully will not happen anytime soon), and when he returns this time, he's holding three large shopping bags – and her pastel pink dress and his hoodie in the other hand.

“Put on your shoes,” he tells her, and she quickly crouches down and does so, happy about having something to do, and when she's done and stands back up, he hands her the dress. It feels softer and a little warm. “I had it cleaned,” he replies to her quizzical look, and the warmth from the fabric seeps into her body, warming her heart, melting away the doubts she's had before.

“Thank you,” she says quietly, smiling up at him before he makes her lift her arms and pulls the dress over her head, smoothing his hands along her sides, then frees her hair from the collar. She doesn't even mind the lack of underwear anymore.

He's been so good to her, giving her these new clothes, being so gentle about it, having her dirty dress cleaned and dried. Spending money on her. Treating her like a human being, like a girl wants to be treated, like she wants to be treated anyway. She feels so grateful, she's even considering thanking him right then and there, her eyes already moving down his body, her cunt clenching as she thinks about putting his cock into her mouth, but he stops that train of thought by grabbing her hand (not her wrist) and pulling her out of the changing room.

She inhales deeply as she follows him, finally out of the constant AC blast, and she isn't even mad about the many people around them when he walks with her through the store. She's focused on his hand around hers, on the shopping bags he's carrying for her, how her heart swells contently. When they pass the food court, he buys her a large pink milkshake that she happily slurps as they continue their way.

This feels normal, she thinks as she watches him with the straw between her lips, smirking softly as the sweet drink runs smoothly down her throat. Just a girl and her... boyfriend? The thought makes her blush deeply. A strange word for him, maybe... gentleman caller? Lover even?

Something cold crashes through her as the deeper parts of her mind shove themselves to the forefront. Abductor. Abuser. Manipulative asshole who forces her to do things she would never have agreed to, who doesn't allow her to say no, who'll punish her for disobedience or without any reason at all. She swallows hard, blinking away a sudden tear.

But, she reasons with herself, he's also a man who gives her a chance at a new and better life. A man who spends time with her and money on her, who gives her his attention, and food, whose strong arms make her feel safe and protected. Whose cock fits so perfectly into her cunt she cannot live without it anymore.

That last thought makes her choke on the thick milkshake, and he looks at her with a frown as she coughs into the crook of her arm. She swallows, clears her throat, looks up at him with a nervous giggle and burning cheeks. He squeezes her hand and keeps walking.

When they reach his car, her drink is halfway finished, her mind is a complete mess and her blush has crept all the way down to her chest. He takes the shake from her and empties the cup with a few sucks, and she's too stunned to protest, too mesmerized by the way his lips close around the straw, how he watches her as he does so. He lowers the cup, still watching her, and takes a step closer, his hand wandering up her arm, then around it to snake along her waist before he presses it to her lower back and pulls her against him with a smack.

She gasps, and he uses the moment she parts her lips to bring his head to her level and press his lips to hers, or rather his whole mouth to hers, because his tongue, strawberry sweet, dips straight into it and tangles with her own. She mirrors the motion instantly, her hands reaching out to hold onto him, eagerly, hungrily, her pussy weeping all over again. His kiss is short but intense, and when he leans back, she still tastes the milkshake – and him, and it almost makes her drool.

He watches her with a soft smile, licking his lips, and she just stares up at him, oblivious to the people walking around them, the cars coming and going, it doesn't matter. If he'd ask her now to suck him off, she'd be on her knees in an instant. Head empty, head filled with him.

The moment passes, and he lets go of her again to throw the empty cup into a nearby trash can, before walking back to the car and opening the trunk to put the shopping bags in. He rummages around a little longer while she leans against the side, legs trembling slightly and crossed, fingers playing with the hem of her dress, waiting, savoring the soft moment.

The thud of the trunk startles her, and when he returns to her, he's holding a smaller bag, one of the outfits (she can't tell which), and another bag she hasn't seen before because it's not a shopping bag. He then takes her hand and pulls her back to the building, but instead of going in again, he steers her to the public restrooms on the side.

Her heart beats faster. What is he going to do now? The answer comes when he maneuvers her into a stall, but instead of following her only shoves the shopping bag into her hands. “Put these on,” he tells her, then closes the door and seemingly leans against it from the other side, waiting for her to finish.

It's the high-heeled wedges, the very short black skirt and the pastel yellow blouse. Still, no underwear, and as soon as she puts the pleaded skirt on, she feels exposed, basically naked, the fabric barely enough to cover her butt. If she just stands in it, fine, but she has to walk in it, move, turn, possibly stretch or bend, and everybody will see her bare cunt then. She shivers, but continues to dress.

The heels give her at least two more inches to her height, and she sways on them for a moment before adjusting. The blouse is soft, plays around her curves nicely, even accentuates her small bust a little with its plunging neckline. Once she's done, she knocks softly on the door. He opens it immediately, his eyes raking over her form, no reaction on his face, just a little nod.

She watches him look around then, before he steps into the stall as well, crowding the tiny space, pushing her back against the wall beside the toilet. “Turn around and bend over,” he says quietly, and a little surprised whine escapes her.

She's been too comfortable with him, blinded by his generous gestures, completely forgetting about what else he can do to her. The idea of his cock is one thing, the need for it, the hunger to be filled, the way her cunt clenches just thinking about it, but knowing he might fulfill her hidden desires right here, right now, makes her anxious, turns the tension in her stomach into an actual ache.

She still does as he tells her, without much hesitation, turning around and bracing her hands on the toilet lid as she bends forwards, feeling the little fabric of the skirt slipping up over her rear. His hand is on her soft skin, following the gentle curves, dipping between them and downwards, and she flinches slightly when she feels his finger pushing straight between her folds, deeper, a quiet squelching sound making goosebumps ripple over her exposed skin.

“Perfectly wet,” she hears him whisper, and she isn't sure if she should feel shame or pride at his words. “Shouldn't hurt too bad then,” he adds, and those words make her stiffen, her heart beating faster.

She suppresses a whimper when he pulls his finger away and replaces it with something hard and cold, and before she realizes what it is, he nudges the object into her clenching cunt, slow and steady, not forced and rough, but it still makes her knees shake beneath her, even more so on the high shoes. He keeps pushing, against her tight muscles, and she whines quietly when it reaches the far end, or so she thinks, because then his fingers are on her clit, rubbing it hard, making her gasp and shiver, relaxing her muscles enough for him to be able to prod the item even further, and the last inch causes her to groan deeply.

She feels full, stuffed, like she's been stuffed twice before, and somehow she is glad he's only shoving a dildo up her cunt, but she should never count her chickens before they are hatched, as they say, because suddenly he nudges his leg between hers, holding her open and also the toy in place, when he presses a cold, wet finger to her sphincter.

She arches her back, bucking her hips to get away from the sensation, and suddenly she remembers the slim fingers of the woman in the sex shop, Mistress, feels those long pointy nails poking into her tense muscles, though his finger feels very different, wider, longer, harder, and he's equally unrelenting, shoves it in and out, easing the tight grip of her hole. She's fighting her reactions, tries to keep the noises down, though she doesn't even think about the possibility of other people entering the restroom.

She's too focused on the pressure inside her ass. And it gets only worse when he adds another finger, pumps them harder, deeper, faster. Her arms are shaking as she leans on them, her head hanging low, lips pressed into a tight line, breaths rapid and heart frantic. And amidst it all, she can't believe he's doing this, here, now. Not that he cares.

His fingers vanish after a moment, leaving her empty (well, half-empty) and gasping for air. Then she feels the cold tip of the plug pressing into her, and when the first ball shaped bump tries to squeeze through her tight muscles, she cries out in a choked croak. He nudges his leg against her core, only making it worse, and it's really hard to keep her composure, to keep quiet.

She's biting the inside of her cheek, whining helplessly, wishing he'd prepare her better. It burns when he forces the toy deeper, her muscles are too tense to let it in properly, and yet he keeps shoving, really putting his strength into it, one hand pushed against her stomach as he holds her in place. She would have probably sank to the floor already without his strong grip.

After a bit more fight and more tears and muffled wails, the plug sits inside her, the base gripped by her clenching hole, the other dildo brushing against it through her protesting walls, and as soon as he lets her go, she stumbles, shaking badly, barely noticing how he puts his hand around her mound, then pulls something up her legs. The harness. That she notices. She winces when it scrapes over the welts on her thighs, then whimpers when the hard leather straps press against the toys to hold them in place.

He secures the belts around her legs and hips, checking every strap before leaning back and grabbing her waist to pull her into a standing position. He flattens the skirt over her rear, turning her this way and that, and she lets him because she's frozen in shock, suddenly realizing that she has to leave the restroom in a short skirt that shows off everything, from the bruises on her legs to the black leather harness holding not one, but two dildos inside her. The people will see, they will know, they will whisper, point fingers, they'll think she's a... slut.

Another tear rolls down her cheek, and he catches it with his finger before he cups her face fully and leans down to look at her. “This is just the beginning of your punishment, darling,” he tells her with a dark smile.

She sniffles, swallowing hard. She should have just let him make her come in that freaking diner. At least she would have felt good about it in the moment.

SEVENTEEN 🟥 EIGHTEEN 🟥 NINETEEN

End notes: Will she ever get a break? Nope, not yet. But at least he finally fed her real food in this one! That's something, right?

Thank you for reading! Next chapter on Sunday!

TAG LIST: @untamedheart81 @qmsvpx @cyan1decandy @bimbos-are-angels @voiceactivated @reader-1290

CHAPTER / / / ONE◾TWO◾THREE◾FOUR◾FIVE

SIX◾SEVEN◾EIGHT◾NINE◾TEN

ELEVEN◾TWELVE◾THIRTEEN◾FOURTEEN FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN◾️SEVENTEEN EIGHTEEN NINETEEN◾TWENTY

AO3 / / / MASTERLIST

[365emotionlessfaces]

i’m literally so in love with her

The Aspiring Teachers Program

Part 4 WC:~1.8k

The next couple days came and went pretty much the same way. Melissa and her Aspiring One kept winning, or at least placing in the top three, and every time Melissa saw that bright smile, she found it harder to not kiss the girl. Their friendship had grown quickly over the past few days, and by the time dinner rolled around on the fourth day, they were practically inseparable. They had gotten so comfortable with each other, it almost felt weird to not be touching in some way or another, whether it was shoulders or knees touching, linking arms to walk around, or all out holding each other’s hands when they were only in need of one useful limb.

The days ended the same way, too. They would don their swimsuits and make their way to their private beach, laughing and bonding before dinner, which was also paired with laughs and smiles that neither of them would admit meant anything more. Her Aspiring one would tell her all the things she would do if she got to go home with Melissa, and Melissa allowed herself to imagine what it would be like. Having this pretty young thing there to treat her like a queen, all the time. Living a life with someone who went out of their way to do nice things and say nice things. She shook the thoughts from her head. This is just a kid. Even though Melissa knew that she’d be getting one helluva sweet deal, she knew that the kid had her whole life ahead of her, and Melissa would turn out to be the Joe in her life. Not being good enough for her.

So, instead Melissa would redirect the conversation and share horror stories from teaching, and when the girl didn’t waver in her dream of teaching, Melissa got to tell her all the things that made sharing her knowledge worth it.

They tried staying out as late as possible on the fourth night because they both knew that after dinner tomorrow, everyone would be packing up and heading back to their homes. Melissa couldn’t admit out loud that she wasn’t ready for this to end. Here was this girl promising Melissa the life she’d always wanted, and the redhead knew she’d have to give it up. So she just enjoyed her last night with the girl, and tried to push the dread for the morning out of her head.

Dreams came to Melissa fast, and unrelenting that night. Snippets of a life she could never have. Parent Trap sitting across from her at their table, eating dinner in the home they shared. Slow dancing in the living room while Burl Ives sings Christmas songs through the radio. Double dates with Barbara and Gerald. Looking through a maternity ward window at a tiny baby with a tiny bracelet that says SCHEMMENTI-

Melissa jolted awake and sat up quickly, mindful not to hit her head on the bunk above her. It was still dark, but almost out of instinct she looked across the room to Parent Trap’s bed. Melissa could just make out the silhouette of the young girl. She leaned against a post of the bed frame, and sighed.

‘I’m being ridiculous. I’ve got Joe at home to worry about, hopefully not for much longer, and what would Nonna say?’ Melissa huffed out a silent chuckle at the thought. ‘Might give ‘er a heart attack. Not even done with my divorce an’ I show up with a doll on my arm younger than the broad Joe had?’

After five minutes, the post was starting to dig into her back, so she decided to use the bathroom light to check her watch. When she saw she had ‘two freakin’ hours??’ until breakfast, she decided that she was gonna watch the sunrise from her little secret beach. As she dressed for the day, and exited the cabin as quietly as she could, Melissa hadn’t noticed that the star of her dreams had woken up.

Melissa only had about ten minutes between herself and nature before she heard footsteps approaching. She turned to see her Aspiring One with that beautiful smile, and those glittering eyes.

“Hey. Good mornin’, hon,” was the first words Melissa spoke for the day. Her voice was slightly groggy, despite being awake for a while now. She saw the young girl flush, and despite being slightly confused- she hasn’t blushed at ‘hon’ before-, she drank it in. This was the last day she’d ever get to see this gorgeous young girl and she’d like to spend it right by her side.

The girl took a seat next to Melissa and linked their arms before replying, “Morning, Em,” with a smile. The sun hadn’t made it over the trees across the small lake, but it was clear that it had come over the horizon behind them. The young girl didn’t say anything else, she just laid her head on Melissa’s shoulder. The redhead leaned her head against the top of the younger girl’s and they watched the sunrise in a comfortable silence. Melissa couldn’t help her mind wandering, imagining what it might be like to be able to wake up next to Parent Trap every day to watch the sunrise together.

After watching the beautiful colors cross the sky signaling the start of a new day, they pulled apart, but only slightly. “I’m really sad that we’re going home tonight,” the young girl said. Melissa hummed in agreement. “I really like you, Em. I wish we could go home together.” Melissa looked over to see the girl blushing again.

Melissa wished that, too, but she knew what she had to do. “Listen, kid-” The redhead was cut off when her Aspiring One placed their lips together softly. The kiss was brief, the young girl pulling away just as quickly as she had leaned in. Melissa had to use every ounce of self control not to throw everything out the window and just take the girl here on the beach.

“Sorry, I, uh, I just wanted to know what it would be like before you shot me down,” the girl said sheepishly. Melissa’s heart felt like it was shattering inside of her chest. They both knew what was about to come.

Melissa sighed before she spoke. The tears were already welling up in her eyes, so she looked down at her hands. “You’re young, you’re just a kid. You got your whole life ahead o’ ya. You’ve got school to go to, and I’ve got a divorce to win. I’d love nothin’ more than to be able to run away with you or somethin’, but I couldn’t do that to ya. It would never work, anyways. You need to go back home to Michigan, and go to school, and be the best teacher they ever see ‘round those parts.”

Melissa couldn’t bear to look back up to the girl. She finally let the tears fall when the girl stood and left, without saying anything more. Melissa couldn’t help but feel like she had just made the biggest mistake of her life.

The rest of the day went by in a blur. Melissa and her Aspiring Teacher won the last contest, of course, but the young girl only spoke to Melissa when she had to. Her voice was still full of kindness, but it wasn’t as enthusiastic, and her eyes had lost their sparkle. Was the shine in the girl’s eye just in Melissa’s imagination? Now that she had broken the girl’s heart, and her own, she couldn’t seeit anymore?

At dinner, Parent Trap sat with a group of kids her age, instead of with Melissa. The redhead, unable to stand being in the same room as the girl without being able to be right next to her, took her dinner to go. On her trek back to the cabin, she figured it wouldn’t hurt to get a headstart on packing. Entering the cabin, she looked to the bed where her Aspiring One had spent the last week, and sighed, tears welling up once more. She’d been on the verge of crying too many times today for her liking.

Sandwich in one hand, she tried to use the other to heave her suitcase onto the bed. You would think that it being almost empty would have made the task easier, but somehow Melissa managed to almost drop her sandwich, which made her let go of the suitcase to make sure her dinner stayed safe and edible with both hands. As the case went tumbling, it opened and out fell a little stuffed eagle, clearly handcrafted, wearing a Philadelphia Eagles jersey and denim shorts.

“Oh, Ronny! I forgot about you,” Melissa mumbled aloud. She had brought Ronny along in case they did somethin’ stupid, like a show and tell type thing. She then, of course, would have told them that he’s named after the quarterback playing for the Eagles the year she started teaching. She bent over to pick him up, and as she stood back up, she had an idea to end on better terms with the young girl that may or may not have stolen Melissa’s heart in the span of a week.

Melissa was pacing when Parent Trap returned from dinner. Her bags, long packed, sat near the door waiting for her.

“Hey. I was waitin’ for ya. I, uh, I didn’t wanna leave without saying goodbye and tellin’ ya that, uh, that I’m really glad I met ya,” the girl looked back at Melissa and frowned, but waited for the redhead to continue. Melissa reached down and grabbed Ronny from where she had set him on Parent Trap’s bed. “I hope I didn’t steer you away from teachin’, I still think you’d be amazing at it. This is Ronny,” Melissa held him out to the girl. “I got him from a student on the last day of my first year. I want you to have ‘im.”

The girl took the stuffed eagle before replying softly, “Thanks, Em.” Melissa looked at her while the girl smiled back at her, but Melissa could tell that the smile would never reach the girl’s eyes. Her still-not-sparkling-anymore eyes. Melissa sighed a ‘You’re welcome,’ before heading towards the door.

As she grabbed the handle of her suitcase, she turned to look at the girl one last time. “Maybe in the future, we’ll meet again. When you’ve finished school, and I’ve finished with the disaster in mine,” Melissa told the girl hopefully. She knew how unlikely it was. She only knew the girl’s first name, and the girl didn’t know her name at all. How would they even find each other?

“Yeah… maybe,” floated across the room softly and quietly. The girl didn’t even turn back to look at Melissa as she said it. Melissa just put her head down, and left the cabin. She cried in the taxi, and on the plane, and in the other taxi, and even a little bit once she was home.

Part Five

[thisblogisaboutabook]

Bad Idea, Right? - Part 6

Eris x Reader/Azriel’s Daughter

Eris and Y/N seem to have a knack for putting themselves in unsavory situations. Bonus: Eris has a flashback to the night they met.

Part 4 Part 5 Part 7

Warnings: Alcohol, Language, Attempted SA

Oh gods. I rolled over slowly only to be met with a wave of nausea and a killer headache. I blinked several times, enough to bring the bedside table into view where a glass of water and a hangover tonic awaited me - at least I had the foresight to brace myself for the impending hell that awaited me after such an intoxicating night out.

It was an effort to pull my arm out from beneath the covers of my bed - which felt so much softer and warmer than usual. I drank a few sips of water and the tonic quickly cured the unease in my stomach but the remnants of the headache still remained. My impetuous little shadows tugged at me to get out of bed but it was just so comfortable - tuning them out I yanked my comforter over my head and drifted back asleep.

——————

Eris

Eris started awake as Y/N roused slightly from her sleep, just enough to find the tonic he’d left on his bedside table for her. Several hours ago, he’d settled in a lounge chair on the opposite side of the bed after she’d spent an hour with her head in the commode, alternating between heaving and berating him for being a “shady motherfucker” all while he held her silken hair back and rubbed soothing circles on her back.

Once she’d completely emptied herself of both the contents of her stomach and insults, she insisted she needed to bathe herself - managing to stumble into the bath tub with her clothes still on and demand “something fried and something bubbly, good sir.”

She refused to undress so he could fill the tub, so he left her there to her own devices while he torched some breaded chicken tenderloins in the kitchen - his fire power really came in handy in times like this - where a five foot whatever heathen was demanding sustenance ASAP. “High Lord my ass.” He mumbled to himself as he carried a tray of seltzer water and her fried chicken into the bathroom… where she was sound asleep in the tub.

Good lord, what had he gotten himself into with this beautiful mess. The mother only knew.

So he’d carried her to the bed, feeling a bit sleazy for changing her out of her dress while asleep but it was either let her rest in a liquor and vomit splattered dress that did everything for her curves and absolutely nothing for comfort… or change her out of it and into one of his cotton tees. Perhaps his male ego beamed slightly at the thought of her sleeping in his shirt but he assured himself that her comfort was his top priority.

He warmed the sheets using his fire magic and tucked her in before setting out the tonic and settling in on the lounge.

————————-

Y/N

When I reawoke, it must have been hours later. Whoever came in and opened the curtains could go to hell as the sunlight filtering in assaulted my eyes.

“Mother’s tits.” I groaned out as I stretched, careful not to turn my head too quickly in an effort of staving any sudden returns of nausea or shooting pains from the headache.

As my eyes slowly began adjusting to the damned sunlight, three things stood out. One: my shadows were swirling in front of me and intertwining with my fingers excitedly. Two: Someone was….cooking? In my bedroom. And as my vision fully cleared, three: This wasn’t my room, it was a fucking studio apartment.

“Owww.” I whined as I turned my head toward the direction of whatever greasy delight was cooking only to see red hair pulled up into a bun, a glorious muscular bare back hindered only by the tie of an apron, and delicious toned legs exposed by cloth shorts hemmed at the mid-thigh.

Mother’s tits indeed. Just when I thought the bastard couldn’t get any hotter.

An opportunist, traitor of a shadow shot away from me, caressing his arm as it handled a pan on the stove.

“Morning sunshine.” Eris purred, not even turning to look at me.

I scrunched my nose, lowering my tone into that of disgust - a futile effort to appear unphased by the sight before me “Why are you here? And where the fuck are we?”

“Always a pleasure to see you too, little one. Breakfast first?”

I desperately wanted to object but the bacon he was cooking smelled delicious and fuck if he didn’t look delicious too.

“Whatever.” I muttered, rolling my eyes at either his ability to tolerate whatever I threw at him or myself for being so internally captivated by the half-naked high lord cooking breakfast for me.

He didn’t need to turn around for me to feel the smirk forming on his lips as he began plating our food.

Breakfast was….. silent. Eris sat in a chair watching me with mischief in his eyes and I did my best to focus on the borderline ecstasy inducing combination of grease and whatever smokey, apple seasoning he’d flavored the bacon with.

After a long ‘bout of silence I finally gave in to his game. “Alright Eris,” His name rolled off my tongue like more honey and less venom than intended. “I’ll bite. Where are we anyway? And how?”

“I told you last night, little love. We’re at my apartment.”

Hazy memories rolled back just a bit. A blur of red, a steadying arm, and-

“In Velaris?”

“Is it so shocking that I invest my funds into properties. How many palacial homes do Rhysand and Feyre have now? More than three, yes?”

I crossed my arms. A bit like a petulant child, yes, but it did the trick as it shelved my breasts perfectly enough that Eris was caught off guard. Good.

I leaned forward, the gap in the neck of my - his shirt allowing a glimpse of the unclothed breasts beneath.

“Quit deflecting.” biting my lip, I leaned in a bit closer tracing a finger along his jaw, over the stubble shadowing the sharp angles of it, my palm then meeting his cheek just lightly enough to make his eyelids flutter as he leaned into it.

A fresh wave of the hangover nausea churned through my stomach causing me to tense, slightly drawing back and breaking the trance I had him in.

Eris tsk’d “Uh uh, clever girl.” His eyes darkened as that stupid, perfect sly smirk of his crossed over his features. “You won’t seduce answers from me, though I do love to see you try.” Letting out a sigh that I could have sworn was a bit condescending he continued, “Had you not ghosted me following our delightful night after Starfall, you’d have known.”

“Perhaps Eris, had you not kept information from me and threatened MY High Lord with violence over whatever you’re keeping from me then I would not have resorted to such measures.”

Eris leaned back in his chair, one leg arrogantly crossed over the other as one elbow rested on an arm of the chair and the other hand’s thumb and pointer finger rubbed curiously at his jaw.

“And how- pray tell, do you know of such violent threats? Nothing came through my end of the bargain tattoo so I know that Rhysand did not inform you.”

“No. You should be smarter, High Lord, about what you say beyond established wards. You never know what little ears may be prying.”

Realization crossed Eris’s features as he pieced together who had heard him.

“I simply stated that there would be retaliation. Your High Lord would reciprocate similarly if there were facets of my end of the bargain being broken.”

I leaned closer, inches away from Eris’ face.

“You can tell me what information is so important that a bargain is required to withhold it from me - or I can leave now.”

I could have sworn pain crossed his face briefly before he cooly said, “I’d hate to see you go, my little shadow but I always enjoy watching you leave.”

“I’m sure you do.” I stood up, swaying my hips as I walked toward the door, powering through the lingering hangover symptoms.

“Taking my shirt with you?”

“Ah, you’re right. Best to leave the dirty laundry here.”

Facing Eris and making a show of so slowly pulling the shirt up over my head, giving a perfect view of the rise and the bounce of my breasts as I tossed his shirt back to him.

“Your dress is covered in vomit and liquor.” Hand gesturing lazily toward the dress hanging over the bathroom door knob.

“Guess you’ll have to stay a while longer.

And damn my stubbornness because this was not a battle I was about to let him win.

“I’m winnowing home, Eris. Fuck the dress.”

“Wards extend to the street, sweetheart.”

I faltered but only for a moment.

I’ve never been ashamed of my body but strutting naked into the streets of Velaris wasn’t ideal.

Eh - C’est la vie

I grinned. A sharp, wicked thing.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” He growled.

Was - was that jealousy? Possessiveness?

And with that, I strutted out of his apartment in only a lace thong.

“Wait!” He called but I didn’t miss a beat.

As I walked into the street, onlookers gawked but I paid no mind. “Y/N! Stop. Come back!” He yelled, grabbing my wrist right as I winnowed to the back door of my home.

“What the fuck was that?” Eris growled, voice low with anger and something else.

I turned to face him as he slung a jacket he’d grabbed on his way out over my shoulders, barely hiding my ass and doing nothing to cover my tits but it’s the thought that counts I suppose.

Had I not still been a bit inebriated from the prior night perhaps I would have remembered I had shadows at my disposal to give at least the illusion of modesty but -

I sobered up quickly as my father stepped out of the door in his leathers - likely headed to meet Uncle Cass before heading to Windhaven - only to be greeted by his mostly naked daughter and half-naked High Lord of the Autumn Court.

Icy rage and total discomfort crossed his features, his shadows shooting out to cover me.

The war of emotions was palpable as he clenched his fists, siphons glowing, eyes shooting daggers straight through Eris.

Eris tensed before dropping his typical arrogant bastard mask into place. “Greetings Spymaster.” An arrogant smirk plastered onto his face.

Father’s jaw clenched and his fists fought a battle of wills as if he’d beat Eris to a pulp right then and there. Finally he managed to ground out, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

——————————-

Eris flashback

The prior night

Y/N let out a rather loud snore in her drunken slumber, stirring him from the sleep he’d just begun drifting off to. Her hair had fallen over her face and he couldn’t resist leaning forward and gently tucking it behind her ear.

“Mm, Eris” she whispered in her sleep followed by the slightest upward twitch of her lips.

Fuck - it was so hard sometimes. He wasn’t a perfect male but he did his best to do right by those he cared about.

Sometimes he had to distance himself from her to prevent himself from laying it all bare - tell her everything instead of letting her believe him to be the “sneaky motherfucker”. She was so young, sure in fae society five years, fifty years, five-hundred years age difference, nobody batted an eye but he’d lived so much life compared to her less than thirty.

Amusement and longing rang through him as he took care of her intoxicated ass tonight, reminding him of the night out that brought them together in the first place.

Lucien and Vassa were busy in the Day Court and Adish was going out with a couple of friends - visiting a new tavern in a recently modernized town in the northeastern territory of the Autumn Court. The town itself was safe but there were still the ocasional ruffians passing through. Lucien had requested that Eris send eyes out to ensure their protection. Something urged him to just go himself and damn, he’d never stop being grateful that he did.

The evening itself was boring. Mostly high fae but even lesser fae who had become adjusted to the “new era” ushered in with his reign came out to the tavern. There were harsh punishments for unjust violence within the Autumn Court now. Still, there was so much change needed but it would come in time. His people were rather set in their ways but a new justice system was starting to usher in change.

He nursed a beer in a corner booth, catching the eyes of plenty of fae nearby but managing to avoid the attention of Adish and his crew - which included Nyx Archeron and the little Shadowsinger who he’d heard was quickly rising in their ranks.

Nyx and Adish had both wandered off with a couple of gorgeous females with the classic red hair of his Court along with interestingly enough, Tamlin’s daughter. Layla - if he recalled correctly.

Interesting.

His attention caught as he noticed two brutes who were definitely not from here vying for the little Shadowsinger’s attention. He chuckled to himself as she waived them off, turning back to a group of females she’d stumbled out of the bathroom with. She danced without a care, holding one hand in the air as her shadows steadied her wrist in an effort to prevent spillage.

He’d give it to Rhysand’s Shadowsinger and the Archeron sister who nearly broke his brother’s heart, they passed down all of their best genetics to the stunning female on the dance floor.

The males continued irritating her, going so far as to cut her off from the group by dancing their way between them. She kept dancing but he could have sworn she was letting them cut her off, despite the obvious malicious intentions the males had for her. As they backed her to a quieter portion of the dance floor the larger male grabbed her wrist, tugging her towards the door. She shook her head no but he kept pulling as the other male corralled her from behind. Eventually she waived off the grip on her wrist and walked out with them.

Fuck. He really had no interest in lighting anybody’s asses up tonight but someone had to get the trash out of his court. And despite the fact that he and Azriel were never the best of friends, his daughter deserved more than to be ignored due to their indifferences.

So he sighed, exited out the front door and strode toward the alleyway the other entrance had led to. As he rounded the corner, he came to a halt, lurking in the shadows and taking in a sight that he hadn’t anticipated.

The Shadowsinger sat unbothered on top of a barrel with an elbow on the knee that crossed over her opposite leg. Her face filled with complete and utter boredom as she rolled her eyes at the males bound in shadow before her.

“You couldn’t have just let me be, huh boys? I was having fun with the girls in there too.

I suppose I should thank you though. After all, you won me my next three rounds of drinks. You see, the girls and I had a bet on how quickly you’d give in to your sleazy nature.

One of them bet two hours, another an hour, and me? I know a pig when I see one. Less than thirty minutes from the first time you hit on me and, well, here we are boys.”

The males couldn’t speak through the gags her shadows had placed on their mouths but the rage was apparent in their squeals.

“Anyway, since you were so desperate to find release tonight, I’ve decided to help… remedy the situation.”

With a snap of the wrist and the exception of their underwear, their clothes disappeared while the shadows binds remained in place.

She gave them each a once over and a disapproving laugh, withdrawing the shadows that were gagging them.

“Alright boys, I’ve so generously removed your gags as a thank you for helping me win my bet. You may kiss eachother now.”

The males gaped. The burlier of the two seemed to lack the understanding of the fact that he was at the disadvantage in this situation. “You little whor-“

“Uh uh.” She wagged her finger. Shadows aiming at him like daggers. “That’s no way to speak to a lady. Not that it seems anyone ever taught you manners. Pity.”

The males were visually appalled. Glancing back and forth between her and eachother as if saying “what now?”

Both males fought the restraints to no avail as the little Shadowsinger grinned with amusement at the predicament she’d put them in.

“Honestly, I should just have my shadows castrate you. Would that be more appealing? You two seemed perfectly inclined to share me, what’s a kiss between friends?”

“Please. Sorry - just let us go.” The smaller of the two pleaded.

“Once you kiss - perhaps I’ll consider. Best do it soon though, I’d hate for the little situations beneath your underwear to be revealed to the patrons of this lovely establishment when my friends come looking for me.”

The males glanced once more at eachother, leaning closely in, still hesitating but resigning themselves to their fate.

When their lips were mere centimeters apart, she held up a hand. “Ah- just a moment, boys. We have company.”

Eris started at the comment. Looking down he found a shadow winding around his ankle - was he imagining things or was it almost playful?

“High Lord.” She mused. “How do you dispose of the trash in your court?”

Mask in place, he casually stepped out of the shadows with his hands in his pockets and a devilish grin on his face.

Her gaze fixed on him. Her beauty even more striking up close, and her scent - utterly mouth watering. And when his eyes met hers

Snap.

He knew then and there that he was wholehearted and irrevocably hers for the rest of his days.

He’d wait another 500 for it to snap for her too if he had to.

She was his mate. His.

————————-

A/N: Sorry (kind of) for always leaving you all on chaotic little cliffhangers. I hope the flashback made up for the torture at least a little bit!! 😏

Tags: @b0xerdancer @myheartfollower @ang-taylorsversion @acotarobsessed @uniquecolorwizard @justasillylittlegoofyguy @thelov3lybookworm @starryhiraeth @5moremin

[maddie7writes]

DONT WORRY, DARLING

summary: harry doesn’t ever want his darling to worry, and she doesn’t

warnings: this fic isn’t for everyone, y/n is a housewife (no i don’t hate women’s rights jack chambers is just really hot) also sorry this is short! mentions of smut

she would be a liar to say she hated it. she could lie and say she wished to work, wished to go outside the town they lived in. truth was, the only part she hated was harry leaving in the morning. she loved doting on him, making him his favorite breakfast in the morning, making sure the house was clean for him when he got home, making sure he had dinner on the table, making sure the mini bar was fully stocked. those were her second favorite moments of the day, the first of course being the moments she gets to spend with harry.

she always woke up first, mainly out of habit. the clock on the nightstand read 6:23, and the tattooed arm around her waist tightened at the different breathing pattern. she let herself close her eyes and breathe in harry’s scent. it was cruel to think that in three hours he’d leave her, and not return for another eight.

“your thinking is waking me up.” harry whined in her ear, she yawned out a laugh and turned in his arms to look up at him, her chin against his chest. “go to bed baby, you don’t want to be exhausted all day.” she tucked a unruly curl of his away from those deep green eyes glancing down at her lovingly. green was her favorite color.

“don’t worry, darling.” he whispered to her, pulling her impossibly closer. “it’s worth it, a little more sleepy, for a little more time with you.” he kissed the top of her head as she snuggled into him.

he would always whisper that phrase to her; don’t worry, darling. she never had to worry, not about him, not about her, not about them. all she had to do was exist and love. then harry would take care of the rest. it was blissful, why would she ever want anything different?

—

8:45 rolled around, all the husbands and wives began to step out of their houses, to either wish them off, or go to work. harry always followed behind her, wanting to bask in the sweet little dresses she would always wear for him. though she didn’t always find that fair, especially when he was wearing her favorite navy suit.

“do you have to go?” she whispered, blocking the handle to the car door, he leaned down and kissed her, her hands finding his jaw. “yes love, but i’ll be back. don’t worry, darling.” he repeated the loving phrase to her again. she sighed and let her forehead rest against his chest, taking in one more breath of his cologne before her senses were filled with the sweet smell of cleaning supplies. he kissed the top of her head before opening the car door, “i love you.” he told her, she kissed him one more time before reciprocating the sentiment and watching him drive off. their goodbye was always the longest in the neighborhood, not that they cared.

she spent the rest of the day cleaning. washing the suit harry wore the day before, cleaning the bathroom, making sure the wood wasn’t scuffed, dusting their photos, organizing harry’s record shelf, all of the daily things that needed to be done. she started on dinner at two, and when harry walked through the door at five, dinner had been set, and she had touched up her hair as she opened the door for him.

“god you look divine.” harry sighed, letting his briefcase drop to the polished floors, and using y/n’s back to close the door as he kissed her into it. her heels shuffling trying to keep herself up, to be met with harry’s hands to support her. she giggled at his enthusiasm, “i made lasagna.” she told him. harry nibbled her lip instead, “i’d much rather have you.” he told her, she felt the breath get knocked out of her at his words.

“you have to eat your dinner first baby.” she laughed, she felt like a mother scolding her child to eat their vegetables before they were allowed ice cream. now she was telling harry he needed real food, before he could have the woman he loved. “i like my idea better.” he picked her up bridal style and began carrying her to their bedroom. she whimpered as he set her down gently, “i worked so hard to cook for you.”

“don’t worry, darling. your food won’t go to waste, but i need to thank you properly for the care you take of me and this home.” his kissed her softly, before kneeling in front of her, and thanking her properly.

[gotham-ruaidh]

Little Bit Better Than I Used To Be

Catch up: Chapter 1 (Starry Eyes) || Chapter 2 (Save Our Souls) || Chapter 3 (Dancing On Glass)|| Chapter 4 (Merry-Go-Round)|| Backstage (1) || Backstage (2) || Chapter 5 (Danger)|| Backstage (3) || Chapter 6A (Love Walked In) || Chapter 6B (Without You) || Backstage (4) || Chapter 7 (Stick To Your Guns) || Chapter 8 (Time For Change) || Backstage (5) || Chapter 9 (Take Me To The Top) || Backstage (6) || Chapter 10 (Home Sweet Home) || Backstage (7) || Chapter 11a (Nightrain) || Chapter 11b (Nothing Else Matters) || Chapter 12a (Handle With Care) || Chapter 12b (I’m So Tired of Being Lonely) || Chapter 13a (Angel) || Chapter 13b (She’s My Addiction) || Chapter 13c (Patience) || Chapter 14a (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 14b (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 14c (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 15a (Dreams) || Chapter 15b (I Sing A Song of Love) || Chapter 15c (You Can Do This If You Try) || Chapter 16 (Let That Feeling Grab You Deep Inside || Chapter 17A: Never Tear Us Apart || Chapter 17B: It’s Tough To Be Somebody, And It’s Hard Not To Fall Apart  || Chapter 17C: I'm Wishing, Lord, That I Was Stoned ||| Also posted at AO3

Chapter 18: Turn The Page

New York City || September 1988

So you walk into this restaurant All strung out from the road And you feel the eyes upon you As you're shakin' off the cold You pretend it doesn't bother you But you just want to explode

-- “Turn The Page,” Bob Seger (1971) [click here to listen]

Claire Fraser took a long drink from the glass of water beside the bathroom sink. Closed her eyes. Counted five deep breaths.

Bob Seger’s voice flowed through the tiny portable radio that she and Jamie took everywhere on the road.

Here I am, on the road again There I am, up on the stage There I go playin' the star again There I go, turn the page

She opened her eyes. Listened to the man sing so passionately, so desperately, about his exhaustion and heartbreak from living in the spotlight. Touring relentlessly. Feeling displaced in his own life.

“Claire?”

Jamie poked his head around the door, humming along with the song.

Not for the first time, Claire was grateful that the tour had wildly exceeded all expectations – the private plane instead of tour buses; limos to and from the gig; and hotel suites that were so large they typically had two bathrooms.

Not that they minded sharing, of course – but living on top of each other could be hard sometimes. On nights like these, she needed her own space.

And now, Jamie met her eyes in the mirror.

Enjoyed his surprise.

“What…you…”

She turned to face him. Took a moment to admire him in all black – the dress shirt that she had ironed for him this morning, black jeans, black belt with silver studs, boots. The leather jacket whose inside pocket she tucked a love note into every morning.

She raised her arms. “What do you think?”

The red dress wasn’t something she had intended to buy, that afternoon in Miami when the band needed a few hours with Colum to discuss the European leg of next year’s tour (“the leg owed to the fans, after the shit Jamie pulled last year before he got clean,” he had reminded them). She had kindly suggested to Charlotte and Molly – Angus’ groupie girlfriends – that rather than spend another afternoon inside, they explore the shopping mall attached to the hotel. Jamie had insisted that one of the roadies go with them, to deal with any photographers or aggressive fans – but Claire had only smiled and said that it would be fine.

She had been correct, of course. It was such a breath of fresh air to walk up and down the long corridors, eat Cuban sandwiches in the food court, browse the selections in the department stores and specialty boutiques. Anonymous. To interact with sales clerks not as the wife/girlfriend of the biggest rock musicians in the world – but simply as three women having a nice afternoon out together.

And, truth be told, it was good to get some time with Charlotte and Molly. They asked – respectfully – about her relationship with Jamie, and she in turn asked – respectfully – about their relationship with Angus. Watched them tear up when Charlotte started talking about the uncertainty before them when the tour ended, and when Molly wondered whether they would ever be enough.

Not quite knowing what to say, Claire absently pulled through a clearance rack – and then…

“Ohmygod Claire!” Molly exclaimed. “You have to try that one on!”

Startled, Claire focused on the sleeveless, ankle-length red dress.

“Jamie will freak when he sees that on you!” Charlotte smiled, shifting an armful of lingerie to look closer.

Claire pursed her lips. Thinking.

“Come on, Claire! You need to look like the rockstar wife you are.” Molly grabbed the dress. “Let’s go try it on. Come on!”

Initially she had only wanted to placate Molly. But when she saw herself in the dressing room mirror, she immediately knew how Jamie would react.

Three weeks later, she was correct.

She swirled slightly, enjoying the feel of the fabric swishing around her calves. The bite of cold air on her bare chest and belly. And the incredulous look on Jamie’s face, eyes dark.

“It’s very…red,” he stammered. “Are you wearing a bra?”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s our first event as a couple. And as husband and wife. We need to make a splash.”

He swallowed. Stepped closer to take her elbows, thumbs stroking the soft skin.

“I suppose. Every man will have his eyes on you tonight.”

She shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll only feel yours.”

His eyes darkened. “I like knowing, that at any time tonight, I can just do this…” One hand trailed across the fabric of the dress, over her breast, until it reached the strip of exposed skin spanning her neck to her navel. “And then this…” His thumb edged under the flap, teasing the underside of her breast, in the way he knew would drive her absolutely crazy.

Her lips parted. His eyes locked on hers – taking in the red tones sweeping her eyes and cheeks, and her scarlet lipstick, and the silver hoops hanging in her ears.

“Can we just stay here tonight?” he asked softly, not exactly joking.

She shook her head. “Jamie, Lou fucking Reed came to the show at Madison Square Garden last night and not only insisted on meeting you and complimenting your music, he invited us to his party tonight. He’s had his own addiction issues, he’s not a dummy. And we’ve talked about this, we can’t avoid parties forever. It will be good for all those people to see you.”

He removed his thumb from her breast, and bridged the gap between them to lean his forehead against hers. Without words, their hands found each other, twining and grasping.

As was their habit now, he pressed their thumbs together. The C she had tattooed at the base of his thumb, mingling with the J he had tattooed at the base of her thumb.

“It’s going to be so hard, Claire. Not that I don’t want to see people, or show you off, or help you get to know them.” He swallowed. “I’ve been to these kinds of parties before. Huge open bar. Waitresses in low cut dresses handing around trays of drugs like it was a tray of snacks. People doing lines on the tables. People…fucking in the bathroom.”

She swallowed. “I’ll stay with you the whole time. You can be my excuse to stop talking to someone if it gets too awkward. Or to say no, if something like that is offered to you. You know I don’t care, right?”

He nodded. Hands shaking.

“Do you want to call Raymond?”

He shook his head. “Not right now. Tomorrow, definitely. Let me see how I get through this. Maybe we agree on a few points for tonight?”

“Anything. I love you.”

He smiled. “OK. I’ve got gum in my pocket – that will keep us from getting too thirsty. And if we need something to drink, we’ll ask for club soda, and we’ll watch the drink poured in front of us. I don’t care if it’s awkward. I can’t trust.”

She released one hand from his grip, and slid it into the back pocket of his jeans. “Got it. And you know it’s easier if we touch, right? Hold my hand. Put your hand on my hip. I don’t care. I’ll be right there with you. And you’ll be right there for me.”

He stepped closer, and she parted her legs, and he stood between them. Pressing her hips against the bathroom counter.

“If we get separated, Jamie, I promise I’ll stay true to my sobriety, and to you.”

“I promise the same. I only want you.”

“I’ll touch my letter on you. Will you?”

“Yes,” he swallowed. Kissing the arch of her eyebrow. “That will help. But let’s also agree on a signal, if one of us feels need for love. And the need to go.”

She rubbed the tip of her nose against his. Breath so warm on his lips. “How about…” She tapped the center of his chest. “Touch here. Close to your heart. That’s where I feel need, when I want to love you. Is that where you feel it, too?”

“Yes,” he breathed. “It pools here. Like fire. God, I need to kiss you, Claire. Please let me kiss you.”

She turned her face away, smiling. “I don’t want you to smudge my lipstick. And I want you to hold that thought all night, Jamie. Hold on to that pool of fire. Can you do that for me?”

She felt his smile against her jaw. “Gonna be so, so good when we get back here,” he growled.

“I know, baby. It will keep us strong and true tonight. I love you.”

He pulled back a bit. Raised her hand to his lips. Kissed her wedding ring.

“I love you, Dr. Mrs. Fraser.”

She smiled. “I love you, you idiot. Come on. The limo should be waiting.”

[hungermakesmonsters]

Catch Me If You Can

Bonus Christmas Chapter

Plot summary : When your friend interviews for a position at Anvil, you have a chance encounter with Billy Russo. He takes you for coffee and, by the time you’re done, Billy decides he’s anything but done with you.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R 

Chapter Rating : R (p. much just smut)

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] This chapter contains smut and Billy using sex to get what he wants . Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : ~2.3k

A/N : This was written as a bonus chapter for Christmas but I couldn't post it because of where the main story was, so I'm posting it now, late AF. It's pretty much just a cutesy smut fest. Nothing that happens in this chapter will effect the rest of the story.

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR | CHAPTER FIVE | CHAPTER SIX | CHAPTER SEVEN | CHAPTER EIGHT | CHAPTER NINE | CHAPTER TEN | CHAPTER ELEVEN | CHAPTER TWELVE | CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Bonus Christmas Chapter

On Christmas morning, you’d woken to find Billy sprawled beside you, sleeping so peacefully, that you decided to wake him by slipping beneath the covers and wrapping your lips around his cock. He moaned your name in that sleepy, scratchy tone that always had your thighs clenching, and it wasn’t long until you had him falling apart. But you didn’t want to spend the whole day in bed with him so, before he could come to his senses, you were slipping out of bed and heading for the bathroom, instructing him to stay put.

Once you were done in the shower, you slipped into Billy’s Christmas present;  a red lace lingerie set that was so sheer it was practically see-through, complete with a strappy garter belt and black stockings. Over the top you wore a dark red dress with a satin sash that you pulled into a bow, almost making you look like a wrapped up present.

He was speechless when you finally left the bathroom, but you didn’t give him a chance to do anything more than look before telling him to get showered so you could have breakfast; French toast, bacon and mimosas.

When you were done eating, he took your hand and led you to the tree you’d helped him set up and decorate. Dread coiled in your stomach when you noticed a pile of presents, and the feeling got worse when Billy handed you one.

Carefully, you tore the wrapping paper, revealing a brand new, top of the range mirrorless camera.

“Billy,” his smile waived as you looked at him and he realised you were upset, “this is too much, I can’t accept this.”

Before he had a chance to argue, you were on your feet, heading for the bedroom, feeling like an idiot - how could you have let yourself think that some lingerie would be worth whatever he could get you?

You should have known that something like this would happen, and you felt like an idiot for not anticipating it but - but, now that it had happened, you felt like you were being ungrateful and that wasn't fair to Billy. But, how could you accept a gift that had cost him thousands when all you'd gotten him was ninety dollars worth of lingerie?

“Hey, don’t walk away from me,” his hand on your wrist, pulling you back to face him. He wasn’t angry, he just seemed confused.

“I just need a minute,” you told him, pulling against his grip, but he didn’t let go.

“Talk to me.”

“You can’t spend over five grand on me and expect me to be happy about it,” you blurted out.

“Why not? You’re overthinking it; it’s Christmas. Why can’t I spoil you for Christmas?”

“Because it’s too much, Billy. I don’t need a sugar daddy.”

“Careful, sweetheart, I could get used to you calling me Daddy,” Billy tried to joke.

“I’m being serious!”

He let out a sigh. “I don’t think it’s too much. Not for you. You deserve it - I want you to have it. You know the money doesn’t matter to me.”

“It matters to me, Billy. Especially when all I got you was some stupid lingerie.”

“You got me lingerie?” He grinned, completely missing the point you were making. You slapped his chest with your free hand. “Okay, okay - if you don’t want the camera, we can take it all back. I’ll do whatever you want.”

It was strange for him to relent so easily, but you hoped he was finally starting to understand why his money sometimes made you uncomfortable, but with it being Christmas you didn’t want to argue anymore, so you let it slide.

“Thank you, Billy,” stepping forwards, your hand slipping around his neck and pulling him down into a tender kiss, happy that he seemed to have seen things your way.

“So, about this lingerie...” he grinned against your lips.

You’d wanted to save the surprise for later but, since the cat was out of the bag, you decided to take a step back, indicating the bow of your dress with a wave of your hand.

“Why don’t you unwrap your present and see for yourself.”

His hands were on you in an instant, starting at your shoulders then slowly tracing the low neckline of the dress down to your cleavage, palming your breasts through the fabric before continuing down to the bow. He licked his lips as he looked at you, taking in the sight of you like you were the most beautiful thing in the world to him as he finally started to undo the bow. Once it was open, he turned you so he could get to the zipper, slowly lowering it and, then, letting the dress drop to the floor.

Fingers ran across your bare stomach, urging you back against him, letting you feel the press of his erection against you. You ground your ass back against him until you heard him take a sharp breath, then you stepped away from him, turning so he could get a proper look at you.

Billy froze, his eyes tracking down your body, taking shallow breaths and looking ready to pounce. You swayed your hips from side to side, watching as he fought against his desires. When he still didn’t move, you reached for him, pulling him towards the bed and sitting him down. Climbing onto his lap, your hips continued to sway as you slowly unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders. His dark eyes continued to glare and you just smiled, wanting him to do his worst.

“Aren’t you going to finish unwrapping me?” You asked as innocently as you could manage, finally snapping him out of it.

His arm moved around you, fingertips pressing into your back, pulling you closer before he deftly unclasped your bra. You slipped it off while his lips trailed down the column of your throat to your collarbone, your back arching without a second thought, knowing exactly where his lips were headed. Fingers ran through his hair as he sucked a nipple between his lips, teasing it to a hardened nub before moving his attention to the other.

While he enjoyed your breasts, his hand slipped between you and into your panties, smirking when he realised how wet you were. Fingers trailed through your wetness, teasing your clit before sinking into you, setting a languid pace; he wasn’t trying to make you come, he was making sure you were ready for him. He pulled back his fingers as you undid his pants and pulled out his erection, slowly running your fingers up and down him, but you stopped the moment you felt him tug on your panties.

“Don’t you dare tear these panties, Billy.” You tried to sound serious despite the laughter in your voice.

He practically growled in response, fingers still tugging, very obviously thinking about doing it anyway before relenting. His hands gripped your hips and he quickly moved you off his lap and onto the bed, pulling your panties down and gazing down at you as he dropped his pants and boxers.

“As much as I want your legs in those stockings wrapped around my head, I don’t think I can wait to fuck you.” He confessed.

You’d come to learn just what that meant; when he was willing to skip foreplay, it meant he needed you, and when he needed you, things got rough. Just the thought made you tremble with anticipation.

“It’s your Christmas present, you can do whatever you want with it.”

“You’re my Christmas present.” He corrected you, crawling onto the bed beside you. You. Not the sex on offer or the lingerie, you were his present. You were his. “And I’m gonna do whatever I want with you, sweetheart.”

He manoeuvred you onto your side and laid behind you, his hand slowly trailing down your body, leaving goosebumps in its wake. But, despite his tender touches, his ragged breathing told you that this was going to be anything but gentle. Finally, his arm hooked around your thigh, lifting it until it was almost perpendicular to your other leg, leaving you spread wide for him.

You looked down as he curled around you, realising you could see his cock between your thighs.

“That’s right, sweetheart, watch,” he muttered, slowly moving his hips, letting you watch his cock running through your folds. He watched too, slowly building up your arousal until he was coated in it and his tip was starting to leak. Eagerly, you reached down, thumb swiping a bead of pre-cum and bringing it to your lips, earning a growl from Billy, reminding you that he was in charge right now, not you.

To punish you, he started to tease you, pressing the crown of his cock against your slit, letting you feel the slow stretch before pulling back again. He did it over and over, leaving you feeling desperate and needy, moaning his name every time his shaft rubbed against your clit.

“Billy, please -” you finally broke, unable to take any more.

“Say it,” he demanded quietly, his lips brushing against your ear.

“I need you inside me,” you begged.

Finally, he relented, slowly pushing past the threshold of your wet slit. A cry spilled from you, the angle of his cock stretching you, filling you in a way you hadn’t felt before. Billy, likewise, let out a groan, easing you open with inch after inch, holding you close as he sank deeper and deeper.

You whimpered as he bottomed out, but he didn’t give you time to adjust before he started to fuck you with hard, brazen thrusts of his hips. Trembling every time he filled you, his grip on your thigh left you completely at his mercy to take whatever he gave. And Billy gave you everything, swearing and groaning your name as you clenched around him, as you drenched his cock with your arousal.

“Is this what you needed?” He grunted in your ear.

“More,” you moaned, toying with him. “Everything.”

He fucked you harder, faster, filling the deepest parts of you, and by the time you felt his fingers on your swollen clit each breath you took was punctuated with a moan.

“Like this, sweetheart?” he mocked, knowing you couldn’t answer. All you could do was moan. “Always so fucking needy for me, aren’t you?”

(You both already knew the answer to that one.)

Glancing down, just the sight of his fingers working your clit was enough to make you come.

His cock slipped from you without warning, still in the throes of your orgasm, still moaning and writhing beneath him. Getting to his knees, he straddled one thigh while pulling the other around his waist, keeping you on your side as he slipped back between your walls. The new angle had your eyes rolling back in your head every time he filled you.

Noticing your breasts bouncing with each thrust only inspired him to fuck you harder, his hand soon slipping up you body, fingers pinching and tugging at your nipple, the sharp sting bringing an overwhelming mixture of pleasure and pain.

“Mine,” he growled, demanding you admit it; that you were his, that you’d never want anyone else again. But you weren’t there yet, and your denial had him pounding his cock into you even harder, making you come again.

Rolling you onto your back, he pulled up both of your legs as he sank back inside you, lowering his body over yours, letting you feel his weight on top of you. His lips ghosted yours but, when you tried to kiss him, he pulled away, smirking. His movements turned slower, more purposeful, letting you really feel him. It was almost too much after everything you’d already been through, but you soon realised that was the point.

“See how easy it is to empty that head and stop overthinking when you give in to me?” His hand cupped your cheek and he smiled down at you. “This is why you’re mine, sweetheart. No one else will ever make you feel this good.”

As your back arched off the bed, Billy lowered his head, capturing a nipple between his lips, sucking and nipping, while his fingers found the other, tugging and twisting until it ached. It wasn’t long before you started to tremble beneath him, moans stacking and getting louder, nails tearing into his back as you tried to hold on.

You clenched around his cock, so close to coming, when he took hold of your wrists, pinning them above your head.

Then he pulled out.

“Billy -” you practically sobbed, desperate to come, not understanding why he'd stopped.

“Say thank you for the camera, Billy,” he instructed.

You stayed quiet, defiant, realising what he was doing. He wanted to make you change your mind.

Squirming beneath him, you tried in vain to pull from his grasp. His cock filled you again, giving two deep thrusts, almost enough to push you over the edge before pulling out again.

“All you have to say is thank you,” he told you again.

With the way you were bent beneath him, you couldn’t move, couldn’t free yourself. You hated how much you were loving being restrained by him, hated the thrill that ran up your spine as he kept edging you, knowing you well enough to pull out each time you got close. Minutes passed, the demand made over and over, keeping you on the precipice until your eyes were watering and your body was shaking.

But you didn’t ask him to stop. You didn’t want it to end; naively, you thought you could beat him. You couldn’t.

“Thank you!” You finally cried out, broken by him.

“For?” He prompted.

“Thank you for the camera, Billy.” You whined desperately.

“You’re going to keep it, aren’t you?”

Fuck, he’d managed to trap you.

“Yes!”

He grinned, pitching his cock inside you again, fucking you fast and hard enough to finish both of you, his thrusts finally turning languid and lazy as he emptied himself of every last drop inside you, and you clenched around him, unable to stay annoyed as you fought to catch your breath.

“I’m really glad you decided to keep the camera, sweetheart.” Finally letting you lower your legs back to the mattress. And, before you could answer back, his tongue was in your mouth and you were surrendering to him all over again.

END NOTES : I know it's late to be posting a Christmas chapter but I had it written and I thought it was pretty cute (albeit in a smutty fucked up way) and I enjoyed writing it so, here we are. Normal posting schedule will start again on Friday!

Thanks for reading and sticking with all the ups, downs, and dirty parts of this fic!

If you want adding/removing from the tag list let me know (I know some people are having issues with the tags? think you might need to enable tagging on your end of things? IDK tumblr is weird)

TAG LIST

@lincerad @sweetserendipity65 @rafaelakelley @slayerofthevampire @rensolodriver @lovelydoveval @doloreschanal @damagelove @danzer8705 @unlikelystarlightcowboy @schlotzshewrote @bisexualbith @uncontainedsmiles @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @lilliesofmay @billyrussoslut @readingabouthim

[fanficshiddles]

The Redbridge Hunts, Chapter 35

 Loki was sleeping soundly… was being the imperative word. He was rudely awoken when a suitcase was thrown on top of him.

‘Ooooft... What the hell?’ He shot up and squinted when Claire turned on the big light.

He let out a hiss and covered his eyes.

‘Come on, Loki! Time to get up, dressed and get packed.’

Loki blinked hard and glanced at the bedside table. He groaned when the clock showed it was just after six. He pushed the suitcase off of him and looked over at Claire.

‘Claire… My darling, my beloved… I love you, and I am very excited for our trip… but it’s only bloody six o clock. We have all day to get there, it’s far too early.’

‘Exactly, all day. It will take most of the day to get there, it’s like a five-hour drive away. Plus, we need to go via my place to get my things packed, then drop Bat off with Matt.’ Claire said as she dashed about the bedroom, not exactly doing anything proactive, apart from tossing some of her clothes into a pile that she kept at Loki’s.

‘Love… just how many cups of coffee have you had already?’ Loki asked. He noticed that her favourite mug was sitting on the dressing table.

Claire looked at him and shrugged. ‘I’ve been wide awake for an hour or two… I’m just so excited. Come onnnnnn vampy!’ She said as she shoved at his leg.

Loki fell back down on his pillow and pinched the bridge of his nose.

‘Let’s shower together, to save time.’ Claire said as suddenly Loki was covered by her nightgown. He tugged it off his head and then was instantly covered again when she tossed her knickers at him too.

Since when did she get such a good aim? Loki thought as he leapt out of bed and ran after her into the bathroom. A naked Claire with the promise of a shower together was more than enough to get him out of bed at any time of the morning.

-

‘You better be on your best behaviour, Bat.’ Loki said as he gave her another cuddle, then Claire took her for one last cuddle too.

She handed him over to Matt, who smiled as Bat clambered onto his shoulder straight away and purred against the side of his face.

‘I’m sure she will be.’ Matt chuckled.

‘I really appreciate it.’ Loki said as he patted Matt’s free shoulder.

‘No problem at all. I’m just glad I managed to beat Jessica and David for her.’ Matt grinned widely.

Loki had mentioned on the last school day before the Easter holidays about going away for five nights with Claire. Jessica, Matt and David all instantly asked who was looking after Bat. Initially, Loki was going to ask his dad to have her. Though the three teachers began offering, then argued over who got her.

So after a lot of bickering, in the end, Claire had them do rock, paper, scissors to find a winner. Loki found it hilarious, but he was very honoured that people were fighting over who got to look after his cat.

Matt was very pleased when he beat Jessica first, then won against David.

‘See you next week. Thanks again.’ Loki called to him as he and Claire went back to Loki’s car.

‘I’m gonna miss Bat.’ Claire said when she buckled in.

‘Me too. I always do when I go away, even for a night. I know she’ll have a great time with Matt.’ Loki said as he started up the car.

‘Yeah, she will. I’m so excited about this trip.’ Claire said with a big smile as Loki pulled out onto the road.

‘Me too, love. Just the two of us for five whole nights. What on earth will we do with ourselves?’ Loki smirked and reached over to squeeze her knee.

‘Hmm, I do wonder.’ Claire pondered and tapped her lip.

‘There’s a supermarket not far from the cabin, so we can stock up on food on the way there. Means we shouldn’t need to go into civilisation for the whole trip.’ Loki said.

‘Sounds perfect to me. A human, in a secluded cabin in the woods, with a vampire. All alone. Shit phone signal. Sounds ideal for a horror movie.’ Claire teased.

Loki laughed and squeezed her knee again. ‘It does indeed.’ He purred, winking at her.

They’d booked the cabin a month ago, it had a hot tub on the patio. Even though it was only Spring and not overly warm, it wouldn’t matter once they were in the water. There were no other houses around for miles, as it was quite literally in the middle of the woods. It had a log fire, with plenty of logs already seasoned and stacked, ready to use. Some walks were marked out with signs around the woods and up into the hills, so if they did get bored of chilling around the cabin they could go and explore without the worry of getting lost.

The only downside was it said on the website that there was no phone signal, unless you walked down the track a good bit. Though Loki and Claire decided that it wouldn’t be such a bad thing, it would let them switch off better and just be together. He did give Lucius the address, so if there was an emergency Lucius could fly there to alert them of anything.

They playfully bickered over control of the music on the way, then ended up compromising and having half an hour each at a time. They stopped for lunch on the way too, and just enjoyed the car ride as part of the holiday.

When they finally arrived at the cabin, after stocking up on so much food from the supermarket, Claire was practically vibrating with excitement.

‘This is so freaking amazing! Look at it! It’s like something out of a fairytale.’ She said delightfully as she sprinted from the car to the cabin.

Loki laughed as he opened the boot of the car. ‘I’ll bring in all the luggage, shall I?’ He called to her.

‘Of course, you’re the strong one after all.’ Claire called back at him as she opened the lockbox to get the key.

Claire rushed inside and had a good look around. It was mainly one big room, with comfy sofas on front of a large fireplace. Had a small TV, a snooker table at the back next to a dining table. There was a small kitchen area in the corner. A staircase led up to a bedroom that was open and overlooked the main living area. The only room that was separate was the bathroom.

‘This is so cosy! I love it!’ Claire said when Loki entered, juggling their suitcases and some of the shopping bags.

‘Wow, that fireplace is huge.’ Loki commented when he placed everything down.

‘Check out the bed! It’s even bigger than yours.’ Claire ran and jumped onto the bed, star-fishing as she landed on it. ‘IT’S LIKE A MARSHMALLOW!’

Loki couldn’t help but laugh, he absolutely adored her excitement. How easily pleased she was. It made his heart soar so much.

‘Just going to get the last of the shopping bags, love.’ Loki ducked back outside.

He looked around their surroundings and smiled as he sighed in contentment. It was so peaceful, just the birds tweeting. The only bad thing was he had a feeling at the end of the holiday, it would be difficult to leave. Though he tried not to think about that, since they’d only just arrived.

When he returned inside, he frowned as Claire had vanished.

‘Claire?’ He called out, but there was no response.

He checked the bathroom after knocking, but it was empty.

‘Where has that little minx gone?’ He muttered to himself.

As he walked by the kitchen area, he looked out the window and saw on the porch out the back was the hot tub. The owners had turned it on earlier so it was ready for them arriving. Claire was already stripping off next to it.

Loki laughed and by the time he got to the back door, Claire was sinking into the water.

‘Aaaah. This is freaking awesome.’ She groaned and let her head fall back. ‘Come and join me, Vampy.’

‘I’ll get the wine first.’ Loki chuckled and ducked back inside to grab said wine, then he went back outside and stripped down too, and climbed in next to her. ‘Ohh this is nice.’

Claire shimmied along the seat so she was pressed against Loki’s side. He handed her a glass of wine and they toasted.

‘To our little getaway holiday.’ Loki hummed as he slid his arm around her waist.

‘And to peace and quiet for the week.’ Claire added as they clinked glasses.

[sith-qween]

Come, Let Us Teach You

Fandom: DBZ

Pairings: Reader x Vegeta, Reader x Nappa, Reader x Raditz

Words: 3.2K

Rating: M

Warnings: Sayian Reader, Mating Cycles/Heats, Ginyu Force, Dark Frieza, No protection, probably more, I will update as we go lol

One | Two | Three | Four |  Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen | Fourteen | Fifteen | Sixteen |

He wasn’t exactly one for pillow talk and cuddles, much like you would have assumed in the first place. In fact it might have shocked you more if he had been. Instead he cleaned himself up when you turned your back to him and left without much more than a couple words. You were given one more painful reminder that you needed to toughen up and he was gone. 

Did you expect anything to come from what had just happened, no. Hell you already knew you’d probably never hear the end of it and that alone was enough to make your blood boil. Even if he had been amazing and satisfied everything you needed him to in the moment - you would rather drop dead than ever give him the satisfaction of knowing that. He was an arrogant prince and you didn’t need to give him any more of an ego boost on top of everything else. 

Laying there in the pit of confusion over how you felt now, you finally decided enough was enough. There was still enough time to get some training in and you would rather not lose any more time, lest they try to hold it against you for slacking. Dragging yourself from the inner war in your head, you stood, not without a pleasant reminder that was ghosted throughout your skin, and headed into the bathroom. 

The shower was hot and quick, scrubbing your skin rougher than normal, trying to erase it from your thoughts. Granted there was no way to forget his lips on your skin or just how right it had felt. Honesty you chalked it up to being that time and probably something to do with him being a Saiyan. After all you’d dealt with your time before but it had never felt quiet as right as that had. Needless to say you weren’t exactly in the biggest hurry to find out about it either. 

Everything was routine from there. Dressed. Stretched. Straight to the training rooms. You were pretty sure it would be safe to avoid Vegeta there, he was probably busy reporting the mission and trying to brown nose Frieza or Ginyu. He was very proud, but he also bowed his head when he wanted to keep his life. After all you probably made his life a little bit more difficult when you had lipped off about Frieza. 

With a hiss the door pulled open and you stepped in. The dull roar that was humming in your muscles was enough to remind you how badly you needed to let off some more steam. While you had been hopeful that you would be able to steal the training room to yourself, your tail lashed with annoyance as you spotted a certain hulking Saiyan in one of the corners of the room. Great. Just one of the people you wanted to see the most at that moment. It wasn’t like dealing with any of them was an easy task, let alone when you were all wound up.

Deciding it would be in your best interest to ignore him, as you headed over towards your own section of the room. It was nothing special, and it wasn’t like any of the higher ups were in a hurry to use any of their budget on your group. The stuff was older and worn, but you figured it gave it some character; after all so far there had been a great deal of memories made in this room, and you weren’t sure if you would really change that if you could. Even if some were unpleasant, and others were just plain embarrassing. Over the dulled smack against the leather of the punching bag you hadn’t noticed a loud voice trying to get your attention. Well that being until suddenly he was in your vision.

“Just because you can get some doesn’t make you that much better than the rest of us you know?” the voice jabbed, the loud sound breaking from the haze that had been fogging everything else was the least recommended at the moment. Stopping you lifted your eyes to meet the others, narrowed in displeasure of being interrupted. 

“And what makes you think that? Besides, I know I’m better either way, keep that in mind.” you pointed out, voice level not wanting to really give anything away. Knowing their history it would be something quickly turned against you, and the questions of who would be quick to follow. After being so against any of them, you weren’t exactly ready to admit they weren’t that bad. Especially when you knew they all had one goal in mind, and it was the one thing you were most against.

He could see the calculating look behind those [e/c] eyes, and he wanted to know what you were holding back, but he was also wise enough not to pry at the wrong times. His face was lit with his grin as he watched you with a curious gleam, “Now now, I know a glow when I see one, but clearly you don’t want to brag.. I mean, I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to demonstrate, wouldn’t feel nearly as jealous..” he hinted, amusement lighting his eyes as his words managed to get a reaction. Honestly, you swore there was a guide on how to push your buttons, were you just that easy to read?

“I think you need to wake up from whatever disillusioned dreamland you’re floating in, you might just walk into something and hurt yourself” you practically snarled at him, the bite in your words was back and as strong as ever. Hell you could have even fooled yourself into thinking absolutely nothing happened in this very room only a few days ago. 

“So cold, I don’t know what I did to deserve such treatment…” his laugh came, making it plainly obvious that he knew why, and that he liked the reaction. A small twitch reached your eye as you tried not to let him get under your skin, this wasn’t the time to start anything else. You just wanted to train, and hopefully clear your mind from earlier. That wasn’t something you really wanted to have lingering around in the back of your mind for long. Not only would it be a pain if anyone else found out, but it was always not something you wanted to have haunting you either. The sooner it was gone from your mind, the better off you would be, mentally and physically. 

“You know full well what you did, now do you plan on bugging me further or may I get back to warming up?” you managed to get out, the sharpness edging into your voice. Your eyes flicked to the side to where he stood, just within your peripheral vision. You could hardly make out the smug expression he wore, but then again you knew better by now - it was more surprising for him not to be so smug.

“Warming up? [Y/N], what would you do after that? Not like you can make as much progress alone, as you could if you had a partner. After all, it has been a while since we spared last - wouldn’t that be more worthwhile?” he suggested, but it was much more like a nudge. This was enough to get you to turn slightly to face him, the hints of challenge already budding,

“If I am not mistaken, last time we spared someone got upset when I landed a hit on him. I believe they were even considered ‘rusty’ by a lower class saiyan. Or am I mistaken, Nappa?” you responded. The venom lacing your tone was as clear as day, and you could visibly see his muscles tighten at the taunt. Sure he wasn’t the best person to rile up, but it was only fair he knew that two could play at that game.

“And didn’t someone else get their feathers in a bunch when someone hit them back? I recall a scrawny little thing huffing off with anger because they weren’t ready to block.” 

There was a silence in the room, his words seeping into your veins and causing anger to fuel you. Of course, on again about how much smaller you were from the others. It wasn’t even like you hadn’t been exposed to the life of a saiyan, or that you were a female. No, that had nothing to do with it, clearly not. Sure, you weren’t as skilled or built as them, but your spirit burned stronger than theirs, and you would be damned if you let the massive man just walk all over you with his words. 

“So long as you don’t hold back for the sake of pity.. I think maybe I will take you up on this offer this time. I would much rather smack you around than a bag of sand.” your eyes were narrowed, watching him carefully. Turning to face him fully, you could see the sheer size difference. Hell Nappa made Vegeta and Raditz look small in comparison, you could only imagine how small you must look next to him. 

“Hold back? Now why would I do that? You’ve proven you need some sense knocked into that thick skull of yours, and after all what go would me holding back do? It wouldn’t do either one of us much good, now would it?” his face was making a change from smug brat, to an over confident fighter. Now most would feel intimidated by all that, but for once you felt like one with your roots, a deep burning to rise above this obstacle and beat down a strong opponent? Oh you could feel the phantom itching in the tips of your fingers. Curling your hands into fists, a grin of your own started to grow. No matter what, you refused to end up in the medical bays again.

If you were to admit that Nappa was right, it might be time to try fighting more seriously. After all, everything up until this point was all reckless and foolish fighting. No plan, no real power, just anger and rage. You would have to take it a step up if you wanted to avoid anything fatal this time around, and clearly the other was on the same page as you. The air started to grow heavy, and it took a couple of quick back steps before you felt at a safe distance. The ground under him had started to dent slightly and a deep chuckle emanated from him as he watched you blink in surprise. Well, guess there was no use avoiding it, you had to admit he was right this time around.

Meeting his eyes in a challenge, you took on a defensive stance, focusing on building up your own power. Honestly, this was never your strong point seeing as your old base never pushed you nearly as hard as this one already had. After all you were in a no name base, the expendable ones who were the lambs to the slaughter. Here the stronger warriors, not to mention a handful of Frieza’s strongest men, were often seen patrolling the halls and hanging around. The jump was huge, and now was as good a time as any to start working on improving your power levels. 

Unlike the brutish force that the other was giving off as he powered up, yours was more elegant in a way. Much more liquid compared to his explosive burst. The equipment near you started to crack and break down, hitting the ground in a sharp clutter. The feelings of energy rushing through you could be akin to that of a warm drink on a cold day. The distinct contrast as it rushed through you. This was much better, so much better. Not like it would’ve helped with Frieza, but now you were on a closer playing field with the other, closing some of the power gap. 

Neither one of you was ready to move, and neither one of you was willing to let the other out of their sights. Everything paused for a moment before you saw him rush towards you. It was a quick movement and you managed to block, your size giving you the advantage with speed as you shift and land a kick to his legs. However your strength was only so much against his muscles. Grabbing the leg that connected he was quick in pulling you off and hurling you into the wall across the room. 

Stunned for a brief moment you saw him rushing you again and you were quick to duck out of the way, making sure to leave a well timed ki blast in order to blind him and gain some distance. Yeah, okay right. Now wasn’t the time to get careless. You could hear him growl at the little stunt and you were on the clock. Taking your turn in rushing him you unleashed a series of blows, catching him off guard as he turned around. He had to take a moment to worry about blocking your attacks before he finally  resumed his own attacks. 

Well that alone was progress. He had to actually block and worry about your attacks now, better than his good old, fuxe worries. You weren’t just trying to find a chance to hit him, you were hitting him, and making him react in earnest now. Only, you would have to take time to be proud of that later, right now you were more worried about not getting to comfy with the floor like you had in previous fights. 

The fight continued on for a while, each of you holding your own against the other. Hits are getting harder and faster, and focus getting sharper and more dangerous. Parting for a moment, you both needed to catch your breath, hovering in the air. You were sore, but it felt so good. In fact it was only serving to boost the adrenaline you were already feeling. Noticing a shift in his stance as he readjusted you didn’t give it to him, rushing in you went right for him. 

With a grunt he just managed to catch your fist before it landed between his eyes. The curl of his lips causes you to practically snarl in response. Damn, you were so close to getting that one in, but he had experience on his side, otherwise the match probably would’ve been yours. 

“Playing dirty, I gotta say it makes me proud to see you can fight now. Then again maybe something has you riled up.. You aren’t normally so serious in a fight.” he started, the grip on your fist tight, making sure you didn’t just wiggle out. One thing was for sure, you didn’t miss the darkening gleam in his eyes as he continued, “besides it seems I wasn’t too far off with my observation earlier. Can’t say that you don’t smell amazing right now. You smelled good earlier on that mission too. You know you don’t have to fight against it right?” he growled, the hunger in his eyes sending shivers along your spine.

And like that you could vividly feel strong hands on your waist, the heavy heat in your mouth and how primal it had all felt. You needed only to not fight it and you were sure the man before you could dish it out just as well as the prince, maybe even better. However reason was setting in and you had already given into it once, you weren’t planning on making it a habit either. In quick succession you managed to free your fist from his hand before a heavy leg came down on his head, taking the hulking man spiralling to the ground below. 

“Don’t go pressing your luck, Nappa. If it got so bad that I needed the help, I would rather find just about anyone else on the ship than one of your three.” you growled. Honestly the sooner they moved past that the better it would be for you all. However instead of the explosive anger you were half expecting, you got a heavy laugh from below as the other started to sit up from where he landed.

“Well now, guess you can dish out more than I gave you credit for.” he admitted as you jumped down to meet him on the ground. Extending a hand to help him up, he took it with a grin and he got to his feet. However before you could retract your hand, he pulled your body in close, enclosing you in his arms. The action throws you off guard for a moment, but recovering quickly you go to move back before he speaks, “don’t worry, I just want to hold you. May tease you a lot, but I’m not interested in anything if it’s forced.” 

“Well, guess even you can be full of surprises..” you muttered, not sure how to react in such a situation. Raised as a fighter and warrior, this wasn’t really something you were exactly used to. Hell even earlier with Vegeta, there wasn’t anything like that, and that was closer to what you were used to. In the midst of your thoughts you could feel the older man’s chuckle in his chest before he pulled away to look down at you, his hands resting on your waist. Unsure how much you trusted him, you tensed as one hand moved to the tail wrapped around your waist. 

“Last time we were alone I gave you some advice, and I never saw you use it..” he started as he unravelled your trail, watching your reactions. What he wasn’t expecting was the grin that grew upon your features, “however, I guess I was mistaken.” 

“I guess you were, after all - seeing how much you all liked to use that as leverage, even block heads like you guys should have known I would work on remedying that.” you smirked. While you didn’t feel sharp, paralysing pain anymore, your tail was still sensitive and it was harder than you thought to keep a straight face. However it was clear that the other knew what he was doing, then again he was born and raised with other Saiyans, he probably wasn’t inexperienced either. 

His touch was soft and careful as the calloused hand moved along the soft fur. Naturally you were still not completely satisfied after Vegeta, but at least it was a duller roar now. However you weren’t going to let him distract you like this either. In his arms you used your tiptoes to close the distance as you pulled him down by the neck to connect your lips, using his moment of distraction to pull your tail free from his grasp. The smirk on his lips was all the warning you needed to cut it off. 

“Geez, make a man jealous why don’t ya? C’mon who was it? I need to know their secrets,” he smirked before you pushed him off and put some distance between the two of you. And just like that he managed to ruin the otherwise fine mood. You swore the three of them had this hidden ability to ruin anything good they started. Expressioned hardening once again you shook your head in disappointment, 

“Jealous or not, it’s not your business. Now can we get back to training? I enjoyed kicking your butt.” And like that he was focused on the fight once again. For once you felt confident with your skills, and you had a good sparring partner, and you were liking the results that were showing. 

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Three

A wall of heat hits our faces as Marnie and I shuffle into a cocktail bar that evening. It’s a hopping, trendy place right in the centre of town, and even though it’s Tuesday night it’s full. It’s one of those places that will set you back nearly fifteen euro for some obscure, designer cocktail called Foxy Kitten Vodka Tonic, and other such names that are so humiliating to say out loud that you end up getting flustered and ordering rum and coke instead.

We leave our jackets in the cloak room, and I strip down to my skimpy dress, worn with no tights in icy cold weather like true red blooded Irish girls do. Marnie didn’t dress up though, she’s too cool. She’s wearing the same mesh top and black runners she was in earlier, but I could never go to a bar casually. It’s just not what small town girls do, and Claire would have never allowed me to leave our apartment in any other state. My feet already hurt in my five inch heels after walking the ten minutes from the bus stop,  but I don’t dare complain. I just slide into a booth and start looking at the drinks menu, slipping out of them and uncurling my cramped feet on the cool tile floor underneath the table while trying not to outwardly shudder with relief. 

“Wine as usual, is it, Evie, or will we try to seize the spirit of the night and be adventurous?” Marnie’s got her nose in the menu, and I can barely hear what she’s saying over the thumping remix of some Katy Perry song.

“I think it will have to be the wine.” I reply, my head spinning at the prices. You know you’re in the wrong bar when a cocktail costs half of your weekly food budget. 

“Oh boring. Have a Sloe Comfortable Screw Up Against a Wall or something. Come on, you and I are out on the pull, let’s get ourselves loosened up a bit.”

“I’m not ordering a cocktail called that.” 

“I’ll order it for you if you don’t want to say it.” She points out the ingredients to me. “It looks so yum.” She flips through the menu with a concentrated face. “What do you reckon has the most possible alcohol in it? I feel like I need to get absolutely plastered so I can get through an evening in this bar. The vibes are absolutely rancid.”

“We can go if you want.” I say hopefully, picturing an evening curled up in my bed with a hot water bottle. 

“Stop. We’re not leaving. Now which cocktail will it be?” 

I’m still insisting on the Pinot Grigio when a group of NCAD students join us and start sliding into our booth with us. Marnie wanted us to have a group night, because apparently just having two of us alone would have been sad, and because she’s an extrovert she’s not very good at coping unless she’s surrounded by as many different people as possible. 

“Oh, sorry.” One girl says as she clambers over me, her elbow colliding with my forehead, and I smile and pretend that it’s fine. They’re all talking now, the cacophonous sound of at least twelve art students with interesting haircuts filling up my stratosphere. I reach underneath the table to put my shoes back on again, and when I glance down at my little satin dress and strappy heels, I’m struck by how completely out of place I look among everyone else. Apparently I should have worn jeans, flat shoes, edgier makeup, but this is just another case of me missing out on the memo. No matter what I do, no matter where I am I can never seem to get things right. At school I was never dressed up enough, my attempts were always misguided and awkward, and now that I’ve figured that out, I’ve found dresses that hug my body in the right places, shoes that make my legs look impossibly long, the rules have changed again. I excuse myself and wriggle out of the booth. I don’t need to use the bathroom but I want to go and stare at myself agitatedly in the mirror. Maybe I can run a little more kohl around my eyes, smudge it out, muss up my hair a bit so that I look a little more Alexa Chung. 

I shove through the doors and plant myself in front of the sinks, then pull my blunt eyeliner pencil from my little handbag and start raking it along my waterline. With my little finger I rub it in, making sure to get it onto the bottom lids so that it looks like I literally woke up like this. I was partying so hard, I just passed out somewhere and now I’m here again, in another bar. I’m just beginning to back comb the sleek, straightness out of my hair with my fingers when someone comes out of one of the cubicles. I don’t pay her any attention until she’s washing her hands next to me, and that’s when I recognise her. Kind of. From somewhere, only I can’t place her small, delicate features. She sniffs gently and rubs her hand under her nose, and then briefly meets my eyes in the mirror. She doesn’t recognise me either, her gaze just slides away. 

I’m just about to let it go when someone speaks from behind me. 

“Evie?”

I whirl around, and it’s Jen. I look at her, then look at the other girl, flooded with recognition. I do know her from somewhere. Michelle. The famous Michelle who I agonised over for weeks, zooming in on photographs of her pretty face, letting her tear down and completely destroy all semblances of my self-esteem without needing to ever say a word to each other. How could I forget?

“Oh my God. Hi Jen.” I say with surprise. She looks different now. Gone is the bright red cropped hair that she had before, now it’s chin length and straight, jet black with her roots and ends dyed bright, lurid magenta. She comes up to me for a hug, and I notice that she looks a little ashen faced, hands trembling slightly, but her hug is warm and familiar and somehow manages to transport me to a different time and place for a fleeting moment.

“You got extremely hot.” She comments and she stands back. “Wow, look at you.”

“Oh, stop.” I say shyly. “I feel so overdone.”

“That’s just what first years do.” She reassures me. “Spend enough nights out on the streets at two in the morning trying to flag down a taxi, and you’ll change your tune pretty quickly.” She peers down at my shoes. “I personally wouldn’t have fun trying to hike home in those.”

“They’re painful.” I admit, and I lean back against the sink unit to take the weight off them. 

“So what’s your story now? It’s been absolute ages since I’ve seen you. Where are you living?”

“Fitzwilliam Square.” I say, and then cringe in anticipation of her reaction. She boggles her eyes and makes an astonished face, just like everybody else who hears. 

“That’s so fancy, oh my god. What’s the rent on that?”

“Three hundred.” I say, hoping the conversation will move on quickly so I don’t have to get into the whole thing about it. It’s Claire’s dad’s property, and it’s not the whole building, it’s just the top two floors. There was a couple living there before we moved in, and when he evicted them for vague reasons both he and Claire acted like that was a totally normal thing to do, so I went along with it. I usually like to leave all that out now that I’ve learned that unlawful eviction is not okay, actually, and that for most people in this city, the term “Landlord” is synonymous with the words “Filthy, Diseased Bin Rat.” Happily though, Jen just muses about how cheap that sounds, and then moves on. 

“And did you get into art college in the end?”

“I did! I’m in NCAD.”

“Oh, sick. Same as Michelle.”

I turn to the other girl, who’s waiting patiently for Jen to wrap up, smiling blandly at me while she dries her hands with toilet roll, since none of the hand dryers are ever working in these places. 

“Shell.” Jen prompts. “Do you remember Evie?”

“I don’t.” She says in her soft, feminine voice. “Sorry, have we met before?”

“Kind of.” I shrug, wishing to avoid getting into the where and whens of our last encounter. “It was ages ago though, don’t worry.”

“She was at Jude’s going away party.” Jen informs her, and I have to turn away from her, his name like a blade in my gut. I have to resist the urge to wince. I start messing with my hair in the mirror again. 

“That was literal years ago.” I say tightly. “No worries if you can’t remember me. I can’t really remember you either.”

“I’m sorry, I actually don’t.” Michelle says. “That’s probably really bad, but thinking back, like, there were loads of people there, and like you said it was ages ago.”

“No worries.” I repeat. 

“So you’re a friend of his?”

“Not really.”

“You were.” Jen says defensively, then to Michelle: “She was. They were close that summer.”

“I knew him for a few months, and now I don’t know him anymore.” I say brusquely. For some reason my hands are shaking as I try to stuff my makeup back into my bag, and my spine feels like it’s made from steel cable. 

“I didn’t know you fell out.” Jen says with a frown. “Did something happen?”

“Nothing happened, he just obviously wasn’t bothered about me, so…”

“He never mentioned that to me.”

I sigh loudly. Of course he didn’t. I’m sure he never talked about me at all, not even once. ‘Well,” I say shakily. “It’s better that we don’t talk anymore, I’ve been too busy, and like I said, we hardly knew each other, so actually, it’d be weird if we stayed in touch. We both have other priorities.”

“You know he used to be my boyfriend.” Michelle tells me, I don’t look at her, but I can see her leaning into the sink in my periphery, watching me as I drop my eyeliner pencil and let it roll into the basin. “I know how he is. Or was. He was so immature, and I don’t think he really cared about anybody but himself, so like, if he was a dickhead to you or hurt your feelings-”

“Nah we weren’t that close.” I insist. “We just hung out sometimes and then he moved away, it was nothing.”

“Oh.” She watches me attempt to zip up my bag with increasing frenzy, and I know that she doesn’t believe me. 

“Anyway.” I say, flinging it over my shoulder. “So nice to see you both again, but I’m going to go back to my friends.” I flounce out of the bathroom, but instead of turning right and going back to the bar, I swing left and head out to the smoking area, pushing through the doors into the freezing air, which flings shards of ice at my face and my bare arms and legs. I want some air, but actually, the air out there is the furthest thing from fresh. I stand there shivering, looking into the faces of all of the people out there with me, trying to deduct which one has the least threatening aura, and would be most likely to let me bum a cigarette just so I can do something with my trembling hands. 

Prev // Next

[hufflepuffronstan]

#9 Bounce and #10 Scream @hinnymicrofic ❤

Harry ran his hands through his hair for the millionth time. It was not an easy task. 

To be fair, it was not his fault!

Ginny had asked him if he could manage by himself for a couple of hours since she had a couple of errands to run for her former teammate’s wedding. 

He had shrugged and said yes. It might have been his whole demeanor, she had pressed on, her eyebrows raised in apprehension, saying that she could ask Molly to drop by.

Now, Harry did not have a fragile ego. He did not. But Ginny doubting his ability to take care of his own kids had bruised it a little. He was an auror, he had been through a war. He did not need anyone's help to look after three little kids, thank you.

How hard could it be, he had naively thought.

And that's how he came into this predicament which, you could say, was essentially Ginny's fault.

If she hadn't come up with the suggestion of involving his mother-in-law, he would have been fine.

The kids were well behaved, and they were all having fun for half an hour after Ginny left.

Then things took a quick downturn when Harry left them alone (for less than five minutes) for a quick trip to the bathroom.

First thing he saw was James and Al fighting over a toy car. James was screaming on top of his lungs and Al was howling and crying.

In hindsight, he should have known this would happen because Al was having fun abandoning the toys in his hand in favor of the ones in his brother's. James, being the older brother, would give in and start playing with something else. Then it would happen again and again and again and there was only so much an eight-year-old James' patience could handle.

He broke them apart and asked them to stay in two different corners of the room, giving them a stern piece of his mind.

Once that was settled, he went looking for Lily. 

He was sure he lost at least a year of his life when he saw four-year-old Lily resting on top of the bookshelf in the living room. How she got there, he had no idea.

He should have known better than to take her "Yes daddy, you can go. I'll stay here with the Miss Bella" seriously. But he fell for her word when she blinked her wide eyes at him.

"Lily, dear, can you jump into my arms? Daddy will catch you; I promise."

Harry was sweating, his heart was beating fast.

"Nope." She replied cheerfully.

He shouldn't have been surprised by that too because, for some reason, she had a proclivity for climbing -whether it was stairs or furniture or people, it didn't matter. She climbed anything and everything and dangled upside-down from them, like a jungle-monkey.

"Don't you want to come down? You, Bella and Daddy can have a tea party."

"Tea parties are boring." She replied, dryly.

Merlin! He used to love her little stubborn streak but now he couldn't remember why.

"Please, Lily, darling just jump. I will catch you and-” he was not proud that he was resorting to bribery, but situation demanded “-I promise I will give you anything you want." 

Lily seemed to contemplate for a second.

"Okay. But.... You have to let me put makeup on you."

“Um-yes”

“And you’ll have to wear a dress.”

“Oh-kay”

“And the bouncy, blonde, barbie wig!” She finished enthusiastically.

“Noo.”

“But Daddy, you promised.”

“Fine!” He rolled his eyes.

“Yaayy!!” Lily shouted enthusiastically and jumped without another thought.

Harry, thanks to his reflexes, caught her. He peppered kisses on her face in relief as she giggled.

He turned around to see Al and James looking at him.

“You’ll understand when you get old.” He grumbled.

Ginny came home after a few hours.

“How was your day, guys? Had fun?”

“We had so much fun, didn’t we guys?” Harry asked overenthusiastically, looking at the boys.

Al nodded while James replied, “Dad was so entertaining.” with a smirk on his face.

“Daddy is going to be a Princess!” Lily chimed in.

Ginny looked at Harry squirming and seemed thrilled.

“Oh is that so, sweetheart?” She asked Lily.

Lily nodded, “Yeah and he’s going to be so pretty.” 

“I’m sure he is, Lily-lu!“ She bopped her daughter’s nose.

Ginny walked to Harry with a twinkle in her eyes, “Seems like you had an exciting day, husband. Tell me, how did our daughter convince you to become a Princess?”

“Oh, it is nothing.” He tried to shrug it off but Ginny seemed to have caught him.

“Ooh, it’s getting even more interesting.” She slid a finger up his arm and he struggled to stay still. “Now I have to know.”

Harry groaned, resting his head on her shoulder, “It’s a long story and your daughter is evil.”

Ginny chuckled, “Well, what can I say? She learnt from the best.” 

[everythingxh]

Our Day

Pairing: idol-Euijoo x idol-reader

Genre: Marshmallow Fluffy cause it’s a wedding day

Warnings? A little suggestive when the bride and groom text so mdni, pronouns used are (she/her)

Summary: it’s your wedding day today, your groom is Euijoo.

The sun had risen on the 7th of September as Y/n and Euijoo's day began.

Today is their day.

Today is the day to be happy for them.

Today is the day they can finally call each other "Sweetheart" and "Honey."

Y/n's four friends surrounded her bed from both sides as they woke her up to get her ready for her big day.

"Oh Y/nnn, wake up! Today is the day you've always dreamed about," her best friend Leni said as she started shaking Y/n’s body.

"Oh, come on, Y/n! You might not have enough time to get your nails and hair done, and putting that dress on might take like an hour just to get the top part on. Come on, wake up, sleeping beauty—or should I say, soon-to-be Mrs. Byun?" cooed her other best friend, Sarah, as she grabbed a water bottle from Y/n's bedside table, sprinkled some on her hands, and flicked it over Y/n's face to wake her up properly.

Y/n's eyes slowly opened as her vision focused on her four friends surrounding her bed. She weakly smiled and rested her elbows on the soft mattress to sit up properly.

"Hey, guys. And good morning to you too, Sarah. That wasn’t very nice of you to do that, my child," Y/n said in her soft morning voice.

"Well, Mother, you didn’t wake up, so I had to use the emergency method," Sarah defended herself.

Y/n sighed and gently nodded her head, her lips pressing together as the corners curled upward into a small smile.

"Well then, what shall we do today, my bridesmaids? And maid of honor?" Y/n asked, looking at each of her friends in the room.

"First, we should get you showered, then into the main room where the hairstylist will work her magic while the nail artist does your nails. And, of course, your makeup will be done by me, because I'm the best at it. After that, Sana and I can help you with your huge dress," answered her childhood friend Dahyun.

"Let’s go then! What are we waiting for?" Y/n said excitedly as she swung her feet to the side of her bed, ready to begin her and Euijoo's special day.

Her four friends smiled at their best friend, feeling genuinely happy for her.

As the five girls made their way to Y/n’s bathroom, Sarah suddenly stopped the group, holding up her right hand to gesture for them to halt.

"Sarah… girly, can we pass, please? We want to help bathe her too," protested Leni, looking down at Sarah. She shook her head and faked a little smile.

"Nope. Only a mother can bathe her child, and last time I checked, I was her third mother. You know, her actual mother is her first, and her man's mother is her second. So, basically, I’m the third. Anyways, I’m bathing her, and you stay out of it," Sarah declared as she pushed all three of them out and shut the bathroom door.

——————————————————————

As the hairstylist curled Y/n's hair and styled it the way she wanted, Y/n was on her phone, texting her soon-to-be husband.

Heyy babe! Guess what?

What?

I’m getting my hair and makeup done so that I can marry you

Ohhh I can’t wait to marry youuu You know what I’m more excited for after our wedding day ends?

Wait let me guess…..sleeping at the hotel?

Nope

Umm maybe the rest we’re gonna get on our honeymoon? Cause you had like three comebacks and I had four, we need rest you know

Yeah I know But I’m excited about what’s after the wedding ;) The part where I show you how much I love you

Oh stoppp ittt don't make me blush in front of my besties, you know what they'll do when they see my red ass cheeks

Okay I’ll shut up now

The corners of her lips curled into a joyful grin.

Just as she was about to continue texting the man she'd fallen in love with, her best friends snapped her out of her little world and brought her back to reality.

"Hellooo? Earth to Y/n, are you here? Gosh, guys, I think we lost her!" shouted Sarah, waving her hands in front of Y/n's face.

"Okay, okay, gosh," Y/n said, lifting her head from her phone to look at herself in the mirror.

The hairstylist had just finished, and Y/n admired the way her hair cascaded in soft, elegant waves down her back. The front sections were pulled back and twisted into delicate braids, meeting at the crown of her head in a subtle, floral-inspired knot. Tiny, pearl-like pins were tucked into the braids, giving her hair a romantic, whimsical touch that perfectly complemented the day.

"Woah, thank you so much, Lia. My hair looks amazing," Y/n complimented, moving her head from side to side to show off her hair.

"No problem, Y/n," Lia replied with a smile, moving over to the other girls to do their hair.

"Alright, quit goofing around, Y/nie. Your wedding is in an hour, and you still need to get your makeup done—and, of course, the dress! Now come here; I’ll do your makeup, and then Sana and I will help you with the dress," Dahyun said, half complaining.

——————————————————————

"And… done! Look at you. It feels like just yesterday we were in your room pretending you were the bride and I was the groom. You wore your bride costume, and I was wearing my older brother’s suit, acting as your husband-to-be. Ahh, great memories," Dahyun said as she finished Y/n's makeup.

"You can look at yourself now. I allow it," Dahyun added, laughing at her little rule: Do not look at yourself unless I say so.

Y/n slowly lifted her eyes from her phone and locked eyes with her reflection in the mirror.

Her makeup was soft and glowing, highlighting her natural beauty. A subtle shimmer on her eyelids made her eyes sparkle, while the delicate winged eyeliner and wispy lashes gave her a soft, romantic gaze. Her cheeks were dusted with a light pink blush that matched her lips perfectly—glossy, but not too bold. The overall look was effortlessly elegant, making her feel like the most beautiful version of herself.

"Gotta say, this is another great masterpiece by the artist Kim Dahyun. God damn, I’m hot," Y/n exclaimed, smiling at herself in the mirror.

"And now I can join in! Come on, Y/n, we don’t have much time. The dress is waiting for you!" Sana said, grabbing Y/n's hand and pulling her toward the dressing room.

"Alright, here we go. Ahh, I can’t believe you’re getting married in a few minutes!" Dahyun exclaimed as she slipped the top half of the dress onto Y/n.

"Yeah, girl, how are you feeling?" Sana asked, helping Dahyun lace up the back of the dress.

"Honestly, I’m half excited and half nervous because this is such a huge step for us," Y/n muttered as she stepped into the bottom half of the dress.

The dress hugged her figure perfectly, a stunning blend of classic elegance and modern flair. The bodice was intricately detailed with lace, tiny beads catching the light with every movement. The skirt flowed down in layers of soft tulle, giving it a dreamy, ethereal look. The back dipped into a graceful V-shape, showing just enough skin to feel sophisticated but not too revealing. As the fabric settled around her, Y/n felt like she’d stepped straight out of a fairytale.

"Don’t worry. It’s gonna be the best day ever for everyone in that venue. Plus, I heard from a little birdie that Euijoo is just as excited and nervous as you are. So, hey, you’re both feeling the same," Dahyun commented as she and Sana finished lacing the dress.

"Hey guys, are you ready? We need to put her veil on and start that wedding," Sarah said, opening the curtain a little to talk to the three girls in the tiny room.

"Yep, she’s ready for the veil. Let’s get the finishing touches done and get you married," Sana said excitedly.

——————————————————————

Stepping out of the tiny room, Y/n looked in the mirror to see everything together one last time as Sarah and Leni placed the veil on her head.

Y/n gasped softly, placing her hands over her mouth, her eyes getting watery as soft laughter escaped her lips.

The others quickly came to her side, tapping her shoulders and nodding.

"Ah ha, yeah, you’re gorgeous—with and without makeup. Now let’s get you married to your future husband, Euijoo," Dahyun said, locking her arm with Y/n’s and walking her to a chair to help her with her heels.

Suddenly, the door burst open, and Y/n's mother rushed into the room. Her eyes filled with tears as she smiled and approached her daughter.

"Hello, dearest. Are we ready? Your father is waiting for you," Y/n's mother said, flipping the front of the veil to cover Y/n's face. She then turned to Y/n's best friends and scolded them, "And you guys need to get out and walk with your groomsmen."

Y/n chuckled at her mother and nodded as she stood from the chair and walked to the door.

"Wish me luck, guys," Y/n said as she stepped out to meet her father.

"Hey, sweetheart. I can’t believe my little princess is getting married," her father said as she approached him.

She grinned, locking her arm with his, and they began the walk to the ceremony.

Y/n heard the music begin, signaling the start of the ceremony. She looked to her left, seeing her and Euijoo’s best friends walking side by side, all of them smiling and giving her thumbs up.

First, her soon-to-be husband, Euijoo, walked down the aisle.

Then, her bridesmaids and Euijoo's groomsmen followed.

Next, her little sister walked down the aisle, scattering flowers on the floor, meaning she’d be the last to walk down the aisle with her father, the attention solely on her.

She started walking beside her father, her breathing becoming uneven.

Her father paused, looking at her with worried eyes. "Princess, are you okay?"

"Yes, Dad, I’m okay. Just feeling a little nervous, that’s all."

"Alright then, just breathe. Everything will go as we planned," her father reassured her, and they continued walking.

The doors slid open, revealing a room filled with smiling faces. Some guests teared up at the sight of her, while others simply stood and smiled, admiring how beautiful she looked as a bride.

Euijoo shifted his gaze from his best man to his bride. He couldn’t contain the big smile that formed on his face, his eyes slightly tearing up, and his hands trembling just a bit.

"So beautiful," Euijoo mumbled under his breath as he watched his soon-to-be wife walking toward him.

Y/n felt a smile creeping onto her face as she stared back at him.

When their walk came to an end, her father took her hands and placed them in Euijoo's.

"Hi," they whispered to each other simultaneously, giggling before straightening up to face each other.

"Family and friends, we are gathered here to witness the love of these two people standing before us, to join this man and this woman in the bonds of holy matrimony. Many here have known this couple, and none can imagine two people more perfect for each other," the officiant concluded.

"You may exchange your vows now. Let’s have the bride start with hers," the officiant instructed.

Y/n nodded and turned to her right, taking the little piece of paper from Dahyun, her maid of honor. Euijoo did the same, turning to his left to take his vows from Nicholas, his best man.

Y/n unfolded the paper and began reading.

"I seriously cannot believe we’re getting married. It feels like just a few weeks ago you came up to me, all shy and cute, asking if you could take me to prom. And now, here I am in front of you, wearing a wedding dress and reading my vows. Soon, you and I will be a married couple. Mr. and Mrs. Byun will be our names after tonight. I’m truly so excited to marry you, Byun Euijoo, and I can’t wait to be your wife."

Y/n ended her vows with a smile, lifting her head from the paper to look at Euijoo.

Euijoo’s face slowly turned a light shade of red as he smiled back at her, then looked down at his vows, ready to make her blush in return.

"You know, the second my eyes landed on you, I knew I had to do something to make you mine. I knew I had to fight for you—and I did. And it was worth it. You’re worth every bruise I got the day I had to fight Jay just to get a date with you. Everything was worth it. You’re worth it. And I can’t wait to be your husband."

Y/n's cheeks flushed, just as Euijoo had expected.

Seeing her blush made Euijoo chuckle.

"Gotcha," he whispered in her ear, making her cheeks redden even more.

"May we have the rings, please?" the officiant asked, ready to marry the couple.

Sarah, Y/n's maid of honor, and Nicholas, Euijoo's best man, stepped forward with the rings.

The couple took the rings and slid them onto each other's fingers.

"Do you, Byun Euijoo, take Y/n L/n to be your lawfully wedded wife, to live together in matrimony, to love, comfort, honor, and keep her, in sickness and in health, in sorrow and in joy, to have and to hold, from this day forward, as long as you both shall live, till death do you part?" the officiant asked.

Euijoo smiled proudly at Y/n and said, "I do," making Y/n's smile widen even more.

"And do you, Y/n L/n, take Byun Euijoo to be your lawfully wedded husband, to live together in matrimony, to love, comfort, honor, and keep him, in sickness and in health, in sorrow and in joy, to have and to hold, from this day forward, as long as you both shall live, till death do you part?" the officiant continued.

Y/n’s smile couldn’t get any wider as she nodded and happily said, "I do."

"And now, by the power vested in me and the holy father, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Euijoo beamed, lifting his hands to cup Y/n's face. He looked into her eyes and leaned forward, softly pressing his lips to hers as the venue erupted in cheers.

When they parted, both faintly giggled.

After the laughter subsided, Euijoo took Y/n's hand and started running toward the exit.

As of now, they are Mr. and Mrs. Byun.