#excuse the bad lighting and the state of the mirror

[lilac-nites]

I made coords with recent purchases. I bought The Black Ribbon's blue apron from LM to wear with Meta's Violet Bouquet skirt. I also bought Meta's Frill Ribbon JSK set in Beige.

The Black Ribbon apron is very cute and made with a great fabric. The apron is a really great piece and it covers the gaping that happens with my other blouses. The bib is removable and there are pockets that can fit my phone. The straps are adjustable with two buttons. I was hoping that it'd give a more classic look to this coord, but it looks very sweet.

I bought the JSK and under the knee socks in Antique White. I love how this looks and it gives the sweet-classic/country vibes that I'm aiming for. I just need a straw hat to wear with it. The Meta set also came with a large headdress that I still need to figure out how to wear.

I still have more purchases planned from Atelier Pierrot and I'm looking for a short-sleeve and long-sleeve ivory and white blouses.

[ashonheavenscloud]

11:52 PM || h. intak

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ contents: hwang intak x fem!reader, established relationship, smut (minors dni!)

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ word count: 3k

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ warnings: swearing, 18+ explicit content, soft soft soft dom!intak, down bad!intak lol, unprotected sex, fingering, little bit of marking, praise galore cause intak is so obsessed with reader omg

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ a/n: a lil smut i had cooking for wayyyyy too long to hopefully get me back into a good routine of writing and posting over the summer break! and intak’s been killing me so bad this comeback so it was bound to happen regardless skdjfkjfjf. enjoy~~

now playing: bedtime story - rini, need it - rini

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“That’s definitely new, right?”

You catch Intak’s eyes in the mirror, watching his reflection look back at you before sliding down over your body, assessing the cute black pajama set—silky shorts and a spaghetti strap camisole—you’d recently purchased. The way that he’s staring at you, and especially the way his ears and cheeks are tinted red, has your stomach doing cartwheels, but you’re also just touched that he noticed.

“Yeah, I got them while shopping with Yeji over the weekend. I needed something lighter to wear over the summer…”

Your voice trails off as he steps fully into the bathroom and slips a hand around your waist, feeling the fabric. His eyes widen with a small shocked gasp. “Oh wow, it does feel really nice.”

“Right?” You concentrate back on the mirror to finish the last steps of your skincare—well, at least you try to concentrate. Intak’s gentle hand smoothing over your waist, occasionally brushing under the hem, and his head resting in the crook of your shoulder don’t do much to help that, especially when he presses a light kiss to your bare skin.

“It’s cute. You look really cute.” He mumbles into your neck and you’re glad for the excuse to reach away and grab a towel and pat your face dry, hoping he can’t see the blush on your cheeks from his voice so close to your ear.

However after taking off the headband holding your hair back and hanging the towel to dry, you make the mistake of catching Intak’s gaze on you in the mirror, chin still resting on your shoulder. His mouth instantly tilts up in a smile that’s so endearing and butterfly-inducing that you can feel your heart speed up. He lifts his head enough to press his nose into your cheek, then kisses the corner of your mouth with a whispered, “I mean, you always look cute, but right now…”

It’s diabolical and he knows it, your heart leaping out of your throat. Your body acts on instinct and you pull away with a giggled, “Intak!” He just grins as you duck quickly out of the bathroom before your boyfriend can think of anything else to say to make you shy and all sorts of stupid.

“Hey, hey, where are you going?” Intak laughs as you attempt to escape into your bedroom, cheeks heated- and this time he can definitely see your flustered state as he slips past the doorway behind you. He’s grinning, eyes sparkling playfully, and he’s looking at you like you’re the galaxy and he’s only just looked at the night sky for the first time. His hand catches yours with enough force to wheel you back to him, and you give in with little resistance, spinning to face him. You’re just a couple inches away now, giggling as he pretends to flick your forehead as punishment for trying to run from him.

“There’s no way I’m letting my girl go without a proper kiss.” Intak tsks, tapping your chin to force you to look up at him. “Especially when she’s looking so damn pretty.”

You roll your eyes, another not-so-subtle disguise to hide how flustered he’s making you. But he knows you too well, a crooked smile lifting with pride as he slowly adjusts his hold of your hand, intertwining your fingers and stepping right into your space. He’s leaning into you like a flower to the sun, adoring eyes darting between your eyes and down to your lips. The way such a simple action can make you feel so much is absolutely ridiculous, and it only takes Intak another few seconds to increase that giddiness tenfold with his soft lips pressed to yours. It’s a sweet kiss, gentle and slow and dizzying, instantly sending you reeling from his touch. His free hand finds your waist as yours slide up to his shoulders, shivers running up your body. He draws you as close as possible to himself, subtly tugging at your bottom lip to hear you sigh before pulling away.

You don’t let him get far, slipping a hand around to the nape of his neck to keep him close. Intak tilts his head, letting his forehead rest on yours as you hover around each other’s lips, taking in the other’s presence. Your hand lightly scratches at his scalp and his eyelashes flicker, eyes half closed, nose nudging yours as an invisible force closes the distance and his lips capture yours again—slowly, deeply, like it’s been weeks since he’s had the chance to kiss you like this. Your sharp inhale dissolves into a quiet whine that only encourages him to smile into the kiss and press closer. Both of his hands move to rest on your hips and you find yourself slowly moving backwards until your body collides with the back of your bedroom door. Intak has you pinned in a second, kissing you again and again, parting your lips to gently suck on your bottom lip and feel your quiet whimper on his tongue.

“God- been wanting to kiss you all night…” he whispers into your mouth in a strained, desperate tone. You answer by tugging him back into a heated kiss that pulls a groan from the back of his throat. Your hands rake through his curls to encourage more pretty sounds that fall onto your lips as he picks up the pace. His hands squeeze your hips, and that’s all the warning you get before he’s hoisting your body into the air, picking you up like its nothing to hold you against the door. You instantly wrap your legs around his torso and pull his face back to yours, unwilling to let him get too far. He responds eagerly, grip tightening on the underside of your thighs as his slow, borderline messy kisses pull from you sighs and whines of his name. His whole body feels on fire under your fingertips, and so does yours, adrenaline rushing through your veins and taking over your senses. His tongue parts your lips, his hands slip to grip your ass, and a murmured “fuck,” turns your brain to static. His hips rut against yours and you gasp, pulling away briefly, heart pounding in your chest.

Your breath catches as his gaze finds yours; Intak looks like a dream and your worst nightmare all at once. His cheeks are flushed, hair disheveled, chest heaving, eyes dazed and half closed as he examines your face the way you do with his, lips brushing yours as his gaze drops to them, then back up to your eyes.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, almost to himself, eyes wandering over your face, as if he’s trying to memorize every detail. His lips are locked back on yours in an instant, pulled like a magnet to its opposite pole, and you’re instantly dizzy, gripping his shoulders like your life depends on it.

This kiss is pure heat. He teases your bottom lip with his teeth and you quietly moan, drawing him as close to you as possible. You run your hands over his shoulders and pecs and feel him shudder, softly groaning as he presses your body to the back of the door once more, pressing his hips against yours again. His lips leave yours, but only to find the slope of your neck and kiss along the skin, sucking marks in a trail to your shoulder, slipping the strap of your tank out of the way without missing a stride. The sensation of his wet mouth on your bare shoulder has your head falling back to rest on the door, heat swimming in waves beneath the surface of your skin. Intak’s lips wander back up your neck, finding a sweet spot behind the back of your ear. The feel of his soft lips and wet tongue make you shiver and quietly moan out his name. “Intak—”

“You’re driving me crazy, baby.” He pants, voice low in your ear. “So perfect… look so fucking cute…”

Your hands run back over his biceps and shoulders, appreciating the toned muscle with gentle squeezes as you sigh and subtly rut your hips against his growing boner. He groans against your lips, melting under your touch and the obvious display of want. He can’t muffle a whimper from the back of his throat as you slide your hands over his chest and repeat the action, which he instantly reciprocates with a grind of his own and a whined, “Fuck, baby… c’mere…”

Making sure his grip looped under your body is secure, Intak kisses your lips one last, lingering time before pulling you back from the door. Stumbling slightly, Intak carries you to the bed and sets you down on the sheets, making your stomach jolt in anticipation. Moving to hover his body overtop of yours, he rubs your thighs and lingers by your lips again, kissing you with new fervor as he whispers between each dizzying peck, “Lay back for me, baby. Just relax and let me do all the work… gonna give you what you deserve…”

His words have an instantaneous effect, making you shiver and grab at his broad shoulders to keep him close, whispering, “Want you…”

With a smile, he pecks your cheek before trailing soft, sensual kisses back down the side of your neck and along your collarbone. He spends a little extra time at the neckline of your shirt before helping you pull the fabric over your head to discard it, doing the same quickly with his own shirt. His lips don’t miss a beat in continuing their path down your body, littering your skin with long presses of his mouth and tongue that make you shiver, sensitive to every touch. His hands follow his lips in their journey down your body, rubbing over your breasts and the curves of your sides. You feel yourself sinking into the bed as Intak slowly presses your hips into the mattress, lips worshipping your body, slowly sucking wet, red marks in his wake. Every small sound you make is only encouraged by Intak, who slowly massages your waist and murmurs, “You’re so good for me.” The words are whispered over your skin, making you feel lightheaded with desire. “So perfect.”

His mouth trails a line down your center, and he’s so unbearably slow that you already feel like a mess before he even starts kissing along the waistband of your shorts. Your hands find their way into his hair and tug at the dark locks, pulling small, strained groans from the back of his throat as his eyes flutter. The action seems to only encourage him to further drive you to the edge of insanity, tongue teasing the marks he’s leaving as you squirm beneath him, already out of breath.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispers, thumbs massaging the rise of your tummy, admiring the darkening bruises he’s left behind. He presses several wet, sweet kisses there before he tugs at your shorts, glancing up at you through dark lashes. “Can these come off, baby?”

You nod with a small “please,” and that’s all Intak needs. His lips split into a grin, eyes sparkling before he carefully pulls aside both your shorts and panties to expose your whole body to him. He takes several seconds to simply get a look at you before bending back down to capture your lips again, softly moaning when you readily press back into him. His hands slip back to your waist, thumbs pressing into your hip bones to hold you in place as he kisses you twice, three times, endlessly more. You lose count as he mumbles sweet praises and several “I love you” ’s against your lips before parting once more. This time, he wastes no time, eager impatience getting the better of him as his arms loop around your waist to roll you over onto your stomach with ease.

Your stomach drops at the change in position and the way his hands explore your body again, rubbing over your ass and up your spine firmly, kneading into the skin. His warm kisses return, littering your back with wet spots and stinging marks that make you whine into the pillow. You feel his smile on your skin, know he’s teasing you on purpose, but your complaints are instantly forgotten when he finally pushes your thighs apart and drags a finger through the wetness gathered in your core, catching on your clit in the process. Pleasure pulses through your body as he repeats the action several times, making you whimper and clutch at the sheets.

“Fuck, Intak, there, please-”

You arch your back with a small moan as Intak obliges, rubbing two fingers over your clit in practiced motions that have you seeing stars. After a minute, he pauses briefly to prop a pillow under your hips, then firmly loops his hands under your thighs and pulls you close to him. He leans over you, kissing up your neck before once again finding that sweet spot behind your ear and murmuring, “Relax, sweetheart, I’ve got you. You’ve been so good, so good, baby… gonna get you there, promise… just hold on for me.”

His fingers work magic as he slips two into your aching cunt and quickly begins to thrust and curl them just right. It’s so good you don’t even know when you start grinding your hips back to chase the friction. “Oh my god…”

It’s not enough, though, and when you say as much Intak quickly strips off his pants and boxers with his free hand, fisting his boner and aligning himself with your hole. Your whole body heats, shaking with anticipation and need, core tingling. Intak hisses as he slowly pushes into you, head falling, his hair and his breath tickling your back. “Oh my god… baby…”

His hands tighten on your hips as he ruts into you, gradually sinking further into your welcoming warmth as spots fill your vision, skin burning at the feeling of his pulsing dick filling you, stimulating your sensitive walls and triggering waves of heat and pure pleasure to flow through your veins. When Intak bottoms out, he does so with a throaty groan, head dipping to touch your back, hair tickling your skin.

As you take a second for the two of you to adjust, Intak lifts his head and presses several messy kisses to the side of your head and behind your ear. “Feel okay?” He pants, breath hot on your neck.

You nod, head heavy in the pillows, body shaking. One of Intak’s arms wraps around your chest and pulls you up to him, supporting your weight while he begins to thrust. The friction is delicious, and you’re instantly clenching around him, your body practically begging for more. Intak lets out quiet sounds and grunts with each thrust, and it’s not long before both of you start to slowly fall apart. Each stroke is deliberate and evenly paced, slow enough for you to really feel it, yet hurried enough that you’re not given a second to breathe before another wave of pleasure rolls through your gut and pushes a moan from your throat.

“God, you feel so good,” Intak groans, head buried in your neck, mouth warm against your skin. “Take me so well, baby… shit—”

His hips thrust with more force, his desperation getting the better of him. His arm around your chest remains firm in holding you to him at the same time that his body presses you against the mattress, his free hand sliding to your hip to hold you in place for him, allowing him to control the angle and hit all your best spots. It’s so good and so intense that you similarly begin to lose control, breaths hitching and choking on moans and whimpers and pleas of his name, all of which are muffled into the sheets as your strength fails you and your head falls against the bed.

His own groans and whines become more high pitched and breathy, his words coming out in broken murmurs. “Feel s’ good, baby,” he whispers, words slurred together. He presses sloppy kisses to your shoulder, moaning against your skin as you clench around him again, feeling your stomach tightening, body tingling. “Fuck, babe—ah—I’m not… not gonna last long like this…”

You whimper, fingers digging into the sheets as his hand slips from your hip to find your clit again, rubbing in pressured circles that have you clenching around him harder, moaning beneath him. “There, there—”

Intak doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow, repeating each heavenly motion as your climax nears its approach. It doesn’t take long before the knot in your gut becomes unbearable, heat rising across your skin. A few more seconds and you’re babbling, “I-I’m coming, Intak, ah-”

“Come for me…” Intak pleads, panting, body shaking overtop of yours, voice right beside your ear, deep and laced with want. “Let me feel you, baby… I’ve got you…”

In an instant, your body tenses and the knot snaps, your high washing over you hard. Your boyfriend rides you through your high, and it’s not long before Intak’s hips stutter and his cum spills into you, his own choked moans filling the space between you. After a couple last thrusts, Intak stills, then slowly pulls out and slumps beside you.

You take a minute to catch your breath, and as you do, Intak pulls you against him, rolling you onto your side and curling you backwards into his chest. His mouth presses gently to your back, free hand rubbing circles over your hip bone. “There you go, baby, that’s it…”

You hum in return, taking his hand and intertwining it with yours. Intak nuzzles into your neck, both of you catching your breaths as he kisses you there. Eventually, he whispers, “You good?”

“Mm. Better than good.”

You can feel Intak’s proud grin against the shell of your ear as he holds you tighter to him. After a moment, he presses another kiss to your skin and murmurs, “Let’s get you washed up and back into those cute pj’s of yours, baby.”

You let him guide you to sit up, eyeing him as he grabs your pajama set, and laughing softly. “Okay, but behave this time.”

There’s a twinkle in his eyes as Intak pulls you to your feet, leaving a lingering kiss on your lips once more for good measure. “No promises.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

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[misswynters]

Ambessa spoiling her girly s/o just because

requested by. @seraphineandkamilahs2

Soft pink silks draped over a canopy bed, sparkling jewelry scattered across a vanity like fallen stars, and the gentle lyrics of your favorite song filled the air. Filling the room with color, looking like a kaleidoscope as the sound danced around the room. The new clothes Ambessa had bought for you were stacked neatly in boxes near the window, their luxurious fabrics peeking out like treasures waiting to be unveiled.

You twirled in the center of it all, your bare feet brushing against the plush rug, the silver bracelets on your wrists jingling with each movement. The world outside might have been grim, heavy with ambition and the weight of war, but in this moment, in this room, life was bright, simple, and carefree.

You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, a wide smile stretched across your face. “I love it all,” you whispered to no one in particular, your voice filled with joy. “She’s amazing.”

The music swelled, and you couldn’t resist. You danced with joy, your body swaying to the rhythm, your heart light. You were so lost in your little world that you didn’t notice the door creak open or the heavy footsteps that followed.

Ambessa Medarda stood in the doorway, her broad frame filling the space. Her usual imposing demeanor seemed more calm tonight, her face shadowed with exhaustion. The weight of her responsibilities clung to her like an invisible cloak, her sharp eyes dimmed with fatigue.

But as she leaned against the doorframe, watching you twirl and leap, something softened in her expression. You were radiant, your happiness infectious, and for a brief moment, the world’s burdens seemed a little less heavy.

“Enjoying yourself, I see,” Ambessa said, her deep voice cutting through the music.

You spun around, startled but delighted to see her. “Ambessa!” you cried, rushing toward her. Your arms wrapped around her waist as you buried your face against her chest. “You’re back!”

Her arms encircled you almost instinctively, though the gesture was far less enthusiastic. “Obviously,” she murmured, her tone weary. “I see you’ve been busy.”

You stepped back, gesturing toward the room. “Look at all of this! The dresses, the jewelry, you outdid yourself this time. I feel like a princess.”

Ambessa let out a low chuckle, her hand brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “You are a princess,” she said simply, though her voice carried a hint of amusement.

Your smile faltered as you took in her tired features. The dark circles under her eyes, the way her shoulders slumped just slightly—it was clear that the day had been long and grueling.

“Ambessa,” you said softly, taking her hand in yours. “Come here.”

“What are you—?” she began, but you were already tugging her toward the center of the room.

“Dance with me,” you said, your tone leaving no room for argument.

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I don’t dance,” she stated firmly, though there was a faint hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

“Yes, you do,” you countered, pressing your hands against her shoulders to guide her movements. “Tonight, you’re going to dance with me. No excuses.”

Ambessa sighed, though it was more for show than genuine protest. “You aren’t going to stop asking, are you?”

“Nope,” you teased, stepping closer so your bodies were almost touching. “Now, just follow my lead.”

You swayed gently, your hands resting on her broad shoulders as you encouraged her to move with you. At first, her steps were stiff, her body hesitant, but slowly, she began to relax. Her hands settled on your waist, her grip firm yet tender, and soon she was matching your rhythm.

“There,” you said, grinning up at her. “Not so bad, is it?”

Ambessa shook her head, her expression softening as she looked down at you. “This,” she said quietly, her voice carrying a rare vulnerability, “this is why I fell in love with you.”

Your breath hitched at her words, your heart swelling. “Aw! Ambessa…”

“You bring light,” she continued, her gaze unwavering. “In a world filled with shadows, you’re the one thing that reminds me there’s still joy to be had.”

You reached up, cupping her face in your hands. “My strong anchor,” you whispered.

For a moment, the two of you simply swayed together, the music a gentle backdrop to the sweet chemistry between you.

As the song shifted to something slower, more intimate, you leaned your head against her chest, feeling the steady beat of her heart beneath your ear. “You work too hard,” you murmured.

Ambessa huffed a quiet laugh. “Someone has to keep the world turning.”

“Well you can take a break from all that, y’know.” you said, pulling back to look at her. “Let me take care of you the way you do to me, please.”

Her hand came up to rest against your cheek, her thumb brushing your skin. “You already do,” she said simply.

Later that night, after the music had faded and the room had grown quiet, you sat together on the edge of the bed. You leaned against her side, your head resting on her shoulder as she absently played with one of your bracelets.

“You really like them, don’t you?” she asked, her voice low.

“I absolutely love them,” you said, smiling. “But not as much as I love you.”

Ambessa turned her head to look at you, her expression unreadable. “You are sweeter than a piece of candy,” she said finally.

You shook your head, reaching up to touch her face. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted in my life,” you said firmly. “And I’ll never mentioning it.”

Her lips quirked into a faint smile, and for the first time that night, the exhaustion in her eyes seemed to lift.She pulled you closer, curled you into her side, her arm wrapping around you protectively.

note. any mistakes let me know and i’ll fix it! thanks 🙏

taglist. @cestlaprincesa

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[theosang3ls]

A second chance

part 1 ; part 2

pairing: Theodore Nott x Muggleborn!Reader

summary: after Theo entered your dorm in a drunken state his words left you thinking that maybe he did in fact love you.

warnings: mentions of weed, crying, mentions of alcohol, mentions of cigarettes, heartbreaking angst, swearing.

All characters are over the age of 18!

author’s note: excuse any grammatical errors English isn’t my first language! Part two is here yay! Hope you’ll enjoy reading this!

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“I will always love you.”

The words echoed mercilessly in your mind, drowning out everything else as if, somehow, they could make sense of this madness. But they couldn’t. Nothing could.

Your thoughts waged war against each other—I don’t love you anymore, one side screamed, desperate to drown out the agony. I will always love you, the other whispered, softer but just as deadly. And the worst thing was the fact that you couldn’t tell which one hurt more.

That night, when he spoke those words, he didn’t just pour salt into the raw, gaping wound he had carved into you—he drove the blade even deeper. He made a mockery of your pain, as if your heart was his to break over and over again. And yet, despite it all, you still couldn’t stop thinking about him. Two weeks now the events of that night in your dorm invaded your every thought, it made you sick to your stomach how they repeated over and over again in a taunting matter.

You hadn’t noticed the pain in his eyes that night, too consumed by your own suffering to see it. But as the days passed and you found yourself reliving that moment against your will, you realized—he was hurting, too. And somehow, that made it all even worse.

“This is a bad idea,” your best friend warned, her voice laced with concern. “After everything he did to you? You actually want to talk to him?” Her brows furrowed as she struggled to understand why you would willingly put yourself through this again. “You shouldn’t even want to look at him, let alone give him the chance to explain himself!” Her voice rose slightly, frustration seeping through. It wasn’t just about Theo—she hated seeing you like this, stuck in a cycle of heartbreak you didn’t deserve. She had never liked him, not as your boyfriend. You were worth so much more than the pain he left you with.

“Maybe talking to him will be better than this mess,” you murmured, shaking your head. Doubt clouded your mind, but something deep inside whispered that this was necessary. Maybe it was that foolish, desperate part of you—the part that still clung to the idea that he had loved you, and maybe, just maybe, he still did.

So that was it. Tonight, at the Slytherin common room party, you would finally face him. It had been over a month since you had even tried to put yourself together, to look in the mirror and see something other than the hollow version of yourself he had left behind. But tonight, you made an effort. The makeup, the outfit—it was armor, a fragile illusion of confidence hiding the storm of insecurity raging beneath.

Stepping into the Slytherin common room, the air was thick with laughter, music, and the suffocating press of bodies. It was overwhelming, the sheer number of people blurring together into a faceless crowd. You barely registered the party itself—none of it mattered. All you cared about was finding him. Your heart pounded as your eyes searched frantically, but he was nowhere in sight. Still, you refused to give up. You needed to hear his voice, to look him in the eyes and finally understand what he meant when he said, I will always love you.

You were able to spot Mattheo standing by the fireplace, his usual air of indifference masked beneath the dim glow of flickering flames. He stood there, one hand wrapped loosely around a plastic cup brimming with some cheap liquor, the other idly holding a cigarette between his fingers. He wasn’t alone—his laughter mixed with Enzo’s, their conversation light, effortless.

Determined, you pushed your way through the throng of bodies, each step fueled by a resolve you weren’t entirely sure you possessed. “Mattheo,” you called out, voice raised above the heavy bass thumping through the speakers. His head snapped in your direction, surprise flashing across his face before his usual composed expression returned. He tilted his head, his tongue briefly pressing against the inside of his cheek. “To what do I owe the honor?” he mused, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“I need to talk to Theo,” you said, hoping your voice sounded steadier than you felt.

For a fraction of a second, something flickered across Mattheo’s features—something guarded, hesitant. Of course, he knew. Theo had told him everything. How he had shattered you, how he had drunkenly confessed his love only to leave you stranded in the wreckage of his words. And now, here you were, searching for the same boy who had left you drowning in unanswered questions.

Still, Mattheo smirked, covering whatever concern he might have had. He nodded toward the makeshift bar across the room, where bottles lined the table like forgotten promises. “He’s over there.”

You managed a tight smile before slipping past him, weaving through the crowd with your heart hammering against your ribs. Every step forward felt heavier, weighed down by the chaos in your mind. What if he doesn’t want to see me? What if I regret this?

Then, you saw him.

And your world cracked open.

Theo stood with his hands resting on a girl’s waist, his body pressed against hers as if she belonged to him. And then—before you could even take another breath—his lips met hers.

A kiss. But not just any kiss. A kiss full of hunger, of need, of something devastatingly raw. The kind of kiss he never gave you.

Your entire body went cold.

The air in your lungs disappeared, leaving you hollow, weightless, like the moment before a freefall. You blinked once, twice, but the image remained, burned into your vision, branding itself into your chest. The logical part of you screamed—You’re not together anymore. He owes you nothing. But logic had no place in heartbreak. Because the truth was, no matter how many times you told yourself otherwise, you still loved him. And now, standing there, watching him give away what you had once thought was yours, it felt as if he was taking whatever was left of you and grinding it beneath his heel.

Tears blurred your vision, but you couldn’t look away. You wanted to, needed to, but your body refused to move, frozen in place as if forcing you to witness the final, cruel confirmation that there was no going back.

You were nothing to him now.

Without another thought, you turned and pushed through the crowd, desperate to get out, to breathe, to escape the unbearable sight of him loving someone else.

Mattheo had been watching. From the moment you walked away from him, something in his gut twisted with unease. He knew you and most importantly he knew Theo, he knew the weight of what had happened between the two of you, and he didn’t trust for a second that this conversation would end well. His eyes followed you as you disappeared through the door, and he let out a slow, sharp breath, his jaw tightening.

Then, finally, he spotted Theo.

He wasn’t just standing by the bar—he was pressed up against some girl, his hands gripping her waist like she was the only thing keeping him upright. But what made Mattheo’s blood run cold wasn’t the sight of Theo kissing someone else. No, it was how he was kissing her—desperate, reckless, like he was trying to drown himself in the taste of her.

What the fuck?

Just last week, Theo had been a wreck. He had sat in Mattheo’s room, head in his hands, voice thick with regret as he confessed how badly he had fucked things up with you. He had been sobbing, barely coherent between the hollow sound of his own heartbreak. And yet here he was now, lost in someone else’s lips like none of it had ever mattered.

Mattheo didn’t hesitate. His body moved before his mind could catch up, crossing the room in a few long strides before yanking Theo away from the girl with a force that nearly sent him stumbling.

“What the hell?” the girl shrieked, her voice laced with irritation at the sudden loss of contact, but Mattheo didn’t even spare her a glance.

Theo staggered back, dazed, eyes blinking rapidly as he tried to process what had just happened. “What the fuck, man?” he snapped, his voice defensive, laced with the kind of anger that only came from being caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to.

Mattheo’s gaze narrowed, scanning his best friend’s face. Theo’s pupils were blown wide, his expression sluggish, his movements slightly delayed. His bloodshot eyes were a dead giveaway, practically glowing under the dim lights of the party.

“Dude,” Mattheo’s voice was sharp, cutting through the music. “Are you high?”

Theo wiped at his lips, smearing the remnants of lipstick across the back of his hand before flashing a lazy grin. “Yeah,” he admitted shamelessly. “What? You mad I didn’t tell you to join me?”

The arrogance in his voice made Mattheo’s irritation flare into something dangerously close to anger. He exhaled sharply, shaking his head, struggling to keep himself from grabbing Theo again—this time, to shake some fucking sense into him.

“You officially fucked up, man,” he said, his voice low, edged with disappointment.

Theo scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Oh, please, spare me the lecture—”

“She came to talk to you.”

The words cut through the haze in Theo’s mind like a knife.

Mattheo watched as his best friend’s entire body went still. Theo’s breath caught in his throat, his eyes searching Mattheo’s face, hoping—praying—that he had misheard.

“She what?”

“She came here looking for you,” Mattheo repeated, his voice quieter now, watching the way realization crashed over Theo like a violent wave. “But you were too busy making out with—” he gestured toward the girl, who had distanced herself from the both of you. “Whatever that was.”

Theo’s chest tightened, his stomach twisting so hard he thought he might be sick.

No.

No, no, no.

Mattheo had to be fucking with him. This had to be a joke. There was no way—no way—you had come back, had come looking for him. “Tell me you’re lying,” Theo whispered, shaking his head. His voice was raw, cracking under the weight of the possibility. “Mattheo, tell me you’re fucking joking.” Mattheo only stared at him, lips pressing into a tight line.

No.

Theo felt his chest cave in.

This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t real. He had already ruined things with you once—he couldn’t have just done it again, couldn’t have shattered even the smallest chance that you might have forgiven him.

His hands went to his hair, fingers threading through the messy strands as he let out a string of frantic curses, his breath coming out in short, uneven gasps. His high was still there, but it was quickly fading—burning away in the face of something stronger.

Panic, regret, grief clawing its way up his throat like he was choking on it.

“Where is she?” he asked, his voice desperate, his head snapping up as his eyes darted wildly around the room, searching for you, needing to see you, to fix this.

“She left,” Mattheo said simply.

And before Mattheo could say anything else, before Theo could think or breathe or do anything but let the horror sink its teeth into him, he was moving—bolting toward the door, shoving past bodies, bursting out of the party and into the night.

Praying he wasn’t too late.

Only a few steps into the dungeons, Theo found you—curled up on the cold stone steps leading to the Great Hall, your arms wrapped tightly around your knees as if holding yourself together was the only thing keeping you from breaking apart completely. The dim torchlight cast long shadows across your face, but it couldn’t hide the devastation written in your features. Your mind was a hurricane of thoughts, each one more unbearable than the last.

You had been right all along.

He never loved you.

The realization was a knife to the gut, twisting deeper with every painful second that passed. It made your stomach churn, your chest constrict so tightly you could barely breathe. You wanted to scream, to sob until your throat was raw, to punch something—preferably Theo himself—until he felt even a fraction of the pain he had inflicted upon you. But instead, you sat there, staring at the ground, your hands shaking as you tried to gather the shattered pieces of yourself that he had left behind.

Theo approached carefully, his steps slow, hesitant. As soon as you noticed his presence, you shot up to your feet, a wave of anger and heartbreak crashing over you all at once.

“No.” The word was sharp, final.

He stilled, his expression unreadable, but his eyes—those damn eyes—betrayed him. They held desperation, longing, the same raw emotion he had when he drunkenly declared his love for you in your dorm. But you couldn’t let that affect you now. Not after what you saw. Not after what he did. “I’m not doing this again,” you choked out, your voice trembling under the weight of everything you refused to feel. The second the image of him kissing that girl resurfaced in your mind, fresh tears burned in your eyes.

“Please, let me explain,” Theo pleaded, stepping forward, but you recoiled, shaking your head violently.

“Why, Theo?” The question fell from your lips before you could stop it, the pain laced in your voice cutting through the silence like a blade. Theo didn’t answer, his jaw clenching, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly. “You get some kind of sick satisfaction from doing this to me?” Your voice cracked, the accusation hitting him like a physical blow. His entire body tensed, as if you had knocked the air right out of his lungs.

“Don’t say that,” he whispered, his brows pulling together, regret etched into every line of his face. “Why not? It’s true, isn’t it?” You let out a bitter, humorless laugh, though nothing about this was remotely funny. “You like seeing me like this. You enjoy watching me suffer.” Your voice rose with every word until you were practically screaming, all the anger, frustration, and heartbreak spilling out in raw, unfiltered waves. Theo took another step toward you, but you stepped back, your breathing ragged.

“Let me talk, please,” he begged. “Oh, I think you’ve done more than enough talking already.” Your lips curled into a twisted mockery of a smile before it faltered, your body betraying you as the first tear slipped down your cheek, mascara smearing along with it.

“What do you want from me?” Your voice wavered, the walls you had tried so hard to build around yourself crumbling as sobs threatened to spill free. “Haven’t you done enough already?” And then, before you could stop him, Theo closed the distance between you and wrapped his arms around you.

You froze.

For a moment, the warmth of him, the familiarity, was enough to make you forget. But then the anger came roaring back, consuming every other emotion, and you started beating your fists against his chest, your sobs finally breaking free.

“I hate you,” you screamed, your voice raw and desperate, your glossy eyes meeting his in utter devastation. His arms only tightened around you, steady, unwavering, as if he was trying to hold you together when he was the one who broke you in the first place. “I know,” he murmured against your hair, his voice thick, strained, barely holding back his own emotions. “Me too.”

His hands traced soothing circles along your back, but it did nothing to calm the storm inside you. “Why?” you demanded again, fists still weakly pressing against his chest. “Why, Theo?” His face twisted with something unreadable, his brows furrowing, lips pressing into a thin line as he fought against the words threatening to spill from his mouth. “I have no choice, cara,” he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. His words shattered something inside you all over again. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” you choked out, your body trembling. “Please, Theo.” You grabbed at his collar, gripping onto him like he was the only thing anchoring you to reality. “For once, let me in. Let me understand. Just tell me what the fuck is going on.” But Theo had made a promise—to himself, to his father. He would never expose you to the darkness that consumed his life.

His silence was your answer.

“I can’t,” he finally whispered, his voice breaking along with the last sliver of hope you had held onto. You saw it in his eyes—the war raging inside him, the agony of wanting you but knowing he had to let you go. “I’m sorry,” he choked out, his voice shaking, his entire body trembling. You watched helplessly as he took a step back, his hands falling away from you, his resolve crumbling before your very eyes.“But I meant what I said.” His voice was hoarse, thick with emotion. “You mean the world to me, amore. I just… I can’t do this.” Your breath hitched. “What do you mean?” Panic clawed at your chest, your hands reaching for him again, but he gently pushed them away. Theo wanted to kiss you. To hold you. To tell you that you were the only thing in his life that ever made sense.

But he knew better.

His father’s voice echoed in his mind, a cruel reminder of the world he was trapped in. You saw the hesitation in his eyes, the way his fingers twitched as if aching to reach for you, the way his entire body screamed stay while his mind forced him to go. “Theo!” Your voice cracked as he took another step back.

You couldn’t breathe.

“Don’t leave me,” you begged, the words barely a whisper, barely holding together the last pieces of yourself.

But he did.

He turned away, his shoulders slouched, his usual confident stride replaced by something broken. Defeated.

He had lost.

To his father. To fate. To himself.

And all you could do was watch.

“I hate you!” you screamed after him, your voice echoing through the empty halls, bouncing off the stone walls like a cruel reminder of everything you had lost.

But the truth was, you didn’t hate him. You couldn’t.

You loved him.

You loved him so much that you knew you would put yourself through this pain over and over again if it meant getting another chance.

And that realization?

That was what truly broke you.

❧❧❧❧❧❧❧❧❧❧❧❧❧❧❧❧❧❧❧❧❧❧❧❧

A/N: I literally cried when a reread this while editing omfg. This was heartbreaking. I honestly sometimes feel as if I’m allergic to happiness lol. There will be no part three, some stories just can’t have happy endings🥲 Hope you liked it!

let me know your thoughts on it 💌

!Reblogs and Likes are highly appreciated¡

masterlist

…until next time lovelies 💋

[waterdeepwife]

Caught

Pairing: Gale x Fem! Reader

Summary: You come home to find your husband desperate for the relief only you can give him.

Warnings: NSFW, SMUT, cleric! Reader/Tav, takes place after events of the game, masturbation, oral sex! Both male and female receiving, top! Reader/Tav, Bottom! Gale, Gale is jerking it to Reader/Tav’s mirror image, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, Gale calls Reader/Tav priestess, wax play, I think that’s all?

A/n: I’ve had this planned for some time, now it’s here. Sorry I kinda rushed towards the end, been a bad day for me.

You kicked your boots off as the tower door shut behind you. Already you began peeling over your cleric robes, desperate to get into something more comfortable. The temple you had been working at since moving back to Waterdeep with Gale kept you busy enough and some nights, like tonight, it was insanely busy. You hated coming home late to your darling husband, but sometimes work couldn’t be avoided and Gale understood that.

Your eyes scanned the sitting room, but saw no sign of your wizard. Unusual. He is almost always waiting in the nearby chair, ready to greet you as soon as you walk in, but not this time. Your eyebrows furrowed together as you ascended the stairs to the second floor, where Gale’s study and your shared bedroom was. You asunder maybe he had got caught up in his research, a rather annoying habit of his, but as soon as you got to the top of the stairs you froze. Your husband’s voice echoed the halls;

“Ohhh, please, my love. I need just a taste of you... please.”

He begged followed by an airy moan, the cracked bedroom door doing little to muffle the noises. Your heart began to pound in your eyes, heat rising to your cheeks as you slowly crept towards the door, being mindful to not step on any creaky floorboards. Once you were close enough you leaned to peer through the crack and you couldn’t believe what you were seeing. Gale kneeling naked on the bed, his hand quickly fisting his aching cock. On the bed in front of him laid… you? Or what looked like you, if not a ghostly and glowing a faint purple hue version of you. Gale had summoned a mirror image of you. A naked mirror image of you.

His eyes were glued between the mirror image’s legs, hungry gaze on her pussy as his tongue darted out to lick his lips. He hadn’t noticed you yet, too lost in his own desire for your wet pussy. Gale always wanted to be between your legs, every time you made love he had to taste you. He was so horny, so desperate for his wife that he summoned an illusion of you to try and get off.

The sight of your husband in such a state was definitely arousing, you could already feel heat pooling to your core. Unable to take it anymore you pushed there door open and stepped into the bedroom, causing Gale to let out an undignified yelp. He spun around to face you, cheeks burning with embarrassment as stared at you with wide eyes. The mirror image poofed away, and he glanced away anxiously.

“M-my love! I, uh… I didn’t hear you come in! I was…”

Gale trialed off, unsure of what to say and unable to find an excuse. You caught him red handed and he was beyond embarrassed, hanging his head slightly as he felt your eyes on him. Your gaze dropped to his cock, still hard and precum dripping from the tip. The wizard was covered in sweat, making his skin glisten in the fire light. He looked so beautiful like this, a sweaty flushed mess all for you.

“Oh, my sweet husband.”

You purred as you pulled off your remaining clothes, tossing them to the floor with a soft thump. Gale looked up sheepishly, only to see your naked form approaching. Brown eyes blown wide with surprise and desire, he licked his lips as he looked over your perfect body. The mage felt your hand on his shoulder and obeyed without hesitation, you didn’t need words. He knew you, your body, and your touches well enough to know what you want from him. Gale laid back against the bed, breath hitching as you straddled his face. Your wet pussy presented to him.

His skilled hands came up to kneed your ass, trying to coax you to lean back against his face. You chuckled fondly as you sat in his face, his ready tongue already lapping at your slick folds. He moaned against you, which then caused you to moan as you lowered yourself to his awaiting cock. Gale felt the tickle of your long hair knew what you were going to do to him, so he opened his legs to make it easier for you.

His pretty cock throbbed in desperation, eager for your touch, to give him the release he craved so much. You slowly dragged your tongue across his shaft, collecting some of the precum that dribbled down. Swirling around the tip before closing your lips around it and sucking softly, letting your eyes close as you felt Gale’s tongue work faster. He was moaning louder and louder, and it vibrated your pussy.

You began to bob your head, slowly taking much each time. Your spit coated his cock as you worked to please your wizard. Sometimes you’d pull off, making him whine, only to press sweet kisses to the side and then take him back into your mouth. Gale was wiggling under you, hands squeezing your ass a bit tighter as he plunged his tongue into your core. You knew your husband’s body well enough to know he was going to come soon, but you weren’t done with him yet.

“No! Please, priestess.”

The mage whined as you pulled yourself off of him completely, moving to sit beside him on the bed. You could see your wetness glistening off his beard, his eyes still hungry and desperate. Gale began to pout at you, trying to look as cute as possible. Gazing up at you through his eyelashes, as you cupped his cheek wiping away some of your sweet nectar.

In one swift motion you straddled his hips, Gale reaching down and held his cock still for you. The tip just barely grazing your folds, as he hissed in delight. Your hands found his chest, rubbing and scratching across pecs, then trailing down to his belly. Your loud moan joined his as you sank yourself onto his awaiting cock, Gale gripped you tighter as he pushed his hips up to meet yours. Brown eyes rolling into the back of his heed before closing, a smile of pure ecstasy forming on his face.

Your hips moved together perfectly, thrusting to meet in the middle as the sound of your love making echoed the walls of the bedroom. No matter how many times he’d been inside you, each time felt like the first. You were so perfect, so hot and wet. He could feel your slickness coating his shaft, matting his pubic hear as he eagerly lived his hips faster, desperate for more. Yet you only teased him, raising yourself up until just his tip remained inside you.

Gale still managed to looked so beautiful, even as a sweaty desperate mess like he is now. Your eyes drifted to the candle on the nightstand, the light flickering as the purple wax around the wick began to melt. Your husband always looked best in purple, so why not paint him in purple wax?

“Wha… what are you doing, beautiful girl?”

Gale whimpered as he felt the bed shift under your weight, eyes cracking open to see you grab the candle off the table. His eyes widen when he saw the smirk on your lips, making his heart flip in his chest. His cock twitched in anticipation, his own smirk formed as your eyes met. One of the wizard’s hands moved from your hip to your plump ass, giving it a good, possessive squeeze.

“Naughty priestess… Would your deity approve of the dirty things you do to me? Of your unholy-”

Your husband teased with a purr, but you quickly cut him off as you tipped the candle over. Warm, purple wax spilling into his chest, right below his collarbone. The sensation made him gasp in delight, followed by a groan. Gale watched as you decorated his body with that wax, dripping some down his belly and then stopping just above his belly button.

Slowly you began to move your hips again, sliding up and down his thick cock. One hand coming to rest on his stomach to help balance yourself as you felt the familiar sensation forming in your stomach. Gale snatched the candle from your hands, now giving you both hands to steady yourself as your bounced in his cock. The sound of skin slapping together echoed the bedroom as your speed increased. Eyes screwing shut as you chased not only your pleasure, but his as well.

“Yes, my priestess. Take what you need from me.”

The wizard carefully tipped the candle across your thighs, watching the purple wax trail down each thigh slightly before hardening in place. Gale wanted to paint you in more color, but the feeling of your wet pussy hugging his cock so snuggly was too much. He huffed out the candle and tossed it to the floor, using his hands to better serve his lovely wife. One hand found your breast, kneading the mound before rolling his thumb over your nipple. The other hand gripped the back of your thigh, giving you soft squeezes of encouragement.

You watched as Gale’s head fell back against the pillows, a loud and low moan crawled out of his throat as his thrusted his hips up. You let out a shuddering gasp as you felt his hit seed filled you, finally pushing you to the point where you saw stars. Your body felt like jelly, collapsing against his torso. Your husband hugged you tightly, slick and sweaty skin sticking together as you both try to catch your breaths. Gale whispered breathless praises, kissing your head as happily remained sheathed inside you.

Maybe you should come home late more often…

[devilishcupid]

BROUGHT TO JUSTICE | Bruce Wayne

☆ premise: you knew you had to do something after the joker killed jason, even if bruce wouldn't be able to save you.

☆ pairing: bruce wayne x fem!wife!reader

☆ warnings: gore descriptions, hurt no comfort, angst, death depiction and mention

☆ a/n: been a while since i uploaded a fic on this account. so many drafts and i couldn't focus on finishing bc i kept going back and forth lol. anyways, forced myself to finish this bruce fic i've had since last year. didn't have a specific bruce in mind writing this, hope you enjoy!

'He was never going to stop. You did the right thing,' you told yourself. You spared Gotham of further terror at the hands of the psychopathic clown. He didn't deserve to live—not after he murdered the one you held most dear.

"What did you do?"

You snapped out of your trance-like state, looking up to find Bruce standing in front of you in his costume. Only now, you became aware of the cold metal of the crowbar in your hands. Only now, you became aware of the crimson blood that covered you from head to toe. Only now, you became aware of the lifeless body of the Joker lying at your feet.

"I only did what you couldn't do." You said as you dropped the crowbar, the sound of metal hitting concrete echoing in the abandoned warehouse you had lured the Joker into.

"Why... why did you do this?!" Bruce yelled, grabbing you by your shoulders, trying to process how you were able to commit something even he couldn't bring himself to do.

"Because you didn't save my Jason!" You spat at him, your salty tears mixing with the blood splattered on your face before dripping down your chin and onto the ground. "You didn't save our boy—"

"Do you really believe that's an excuse to take a life?!"

Your jaw clenched at his words—you couldn't believe Bruce was using his stupid code of honor to defend letting that good-for-nothing maniac live after what he did.

"He tortured your son to death, and you let him get away with it." You hissed, venom dripping from every word you said. "And it's not just Jason. He terrorized the citizens of Gotham for too long, and the only thing you ever did about it was put him in a damn asylum he'd eventually escape from."

Bruce's lips formed a thin line across his face, unable to give you a response. From the looks of it, you could tell he knew you were right—at least about the never-ending cycle of Joker escaping Arkham and the Batman putting him back in.

"You know why I couldn't kill him." He finally settled on.

You let out a throaty chuckle laced with disdain for the man in front of you, shaking your head at your husband's simplistic reply. "Well, it's a good thing you don't have to—not anymore, at least. I did all of this for you."

Before either of you could say anything else, blue and red lights pierced through the broken glass windows of the warehouse, and the sound of sirens got louder. You could hear the screeching of car breaks, followed by Commissioner Gordon's voice booming, "This is the GCPD, and we have you surrounded! Come out now!"

"You should go," you said, having already accepted your eventual arrest by the Gotham City Police Department the moment you had put your plan into action.

"I won't leave—"

"It will look bad if they see you here," you interrupted him. "Right now, you're not my husband. You're the Batman. Unless you want to be the one to turn me in, I suggest you go now."

Bruce stayed quiet, knowing he couldn't save you from your predicament. Everything that led up to the Joker's death all pointed to you. It was almost as if you wanted to get caught with how the clown's death mirrored Jason's; you didn't bother to cover up your tracks, either. They may not be as useful as they should be in this crime-ridden city, but the GCPD isn't incompetent enough to not connect the dots.

"Just go, Bruce. Please. I don't want you to see what happens next." You planted a lingering kiss on your husband's cheek—careful not to get any hint of evidence on his suit—before heading towards the warehouse entrance to face Commissioner Gordon and his men.

The squelching of entrails and blood beneath the soles of your shoes followed your every step as you inched towards the door. You gripped the rusty handle with a bloody hand, taking a deep breath. You heard the sound of rustling behind you and look back to find the Batman already gone.

If it wasn't for the wailing of the police sirens, you swore you would've been able to hear a pin drop from the shock Gordon and his people had when you stepped foot outside the warehouse.

You raised your hands in the air, showing the entire unit of police officers undeniable proof of what you'd done. Confusion contorted on some of the officers' faces while others lowered their weapons, all of them unable to wrap their head around how one of Gotham's most esteemed socialites ended up covered in blood from head to toe.

"Sir, what do we do?" You could hear Officer Montoya ask hesitantly to the GCPD's renowned commissioner.

"Arrest her."

Next thing you know, your face is pressed against the pebbly ground and cold, thin metal is wrapped around your wrists behind your back. From the corner of your eye, you could see the feet of officers walking past you and into the warehouse.

You're brought back on your feet and walked to the nearest police car. Before you're put inside, you hear one of the officers shout—

"Fucking hell, she killed the Joker!"

Once you're seated in the backseat, the car starts moving. The sounds of the engine and the sirens filling your ears, almost deafening. You look out of the window, and you spot the silhouette of the Batman atop of a building against the moon's bright light.

You couldn't help but smile a little to yourself. As much as you did it for yourself, you did it for him. Now, the Batman didn't have to worry about a psychotic clown terrorizing Gotham City.

[surielstea]

Caretaker

Pairing: Azriel x reader

Summary: Reader is sick & Az being the best bf ever

Warnings: slight suggestiveness, tooth rotting fluff

A/N: Literally wrote this when I was sick asf and high on cough medicine so I hope this makes sense 😭😭

2.2k words

My body tremors as another weak cough racks through me, my throat pulsing at the feeling. Watery eyes form tears, sliding down the bridge of my nose and dripping onto the plush pillow beneath my head.

I stare out the floor to ceiling window, marveling at the way the sidra morphs starlight into rainbow refractions. I sniffle, one of my nostrils completely closed off and making it a challenge to breathe. It was late. I didn't know the exact time but from the moons position in the sky I could guess it was far past midnight.

My mate hadn't come to bed and I debated clambering out of this all too hot bed to go and find him, wrap my arms around his waist and guide him back to our bed. But I can't expose him to whatever virus plagued me, in turn getting him sick, no matter how badly I missed his touch. It was already a risk to share the same bed, I couldn't push it.

Madja stopped by earlier and gave me a tonic to help ward off the cough but there was nothing she could do beyond that. I took the tonic minutes ago, the effects still settling in, I just hoped the cough would cease long enough for me to be able to fall asleep.

It's been days, my mate was convinced I was getting worse. He surveyed me like usual, but his gaze turned soft and pitiful every time a raucous cough came over me. Shadows kept me company, swirling fluidly against my back in a reassuring manner, the chill touch of them making me cool off from my heated state.

There was a soft knock at the door and I didn't have to look to know who it was. I adjusted under the covers, using my strength to sit up and lean against the headboard, teary eyed but making eye contact with the large winged male in the doorway. "Az." My voice was practically a whimper, a feeble excuse at calling for him.

"My love," He drew a long exhale, my sickness seemingly weighing on him as well.

"You can't be in here." I murmur, wiping my tears and wishing it was his hands instead of mine doing the act.

"I miss you." He offers me a soft smile as he tilts his head against the frame of the door, his silhouette from the hallway light made him look like some sort of angel.

"I don't want to get you sick." I shake my head, holding my arm out as if to shield him away but we both knew I held no power at the moment.

"It wouldn't be so bad," He tries to lighten the mood with a shrug. "I'd be off work, we could quarantine together. We'd read and cuddle and I could actually go within a ten feet radius of you." His words were convincing, and the idea has a smile tugging at my lips. That is until a croak of a cough rattles my body and I remember how irritating this illness is. I wouldn't want him to have this, ten foot radius or not.

"It's hard enough to stay away from you, don't tempt me." I sigh, allowing my bones to sink into the large matress.

"Worth a try." He mirrors my smile. "Do you need anything? Tea or soup?" He asks and I twist my lips to the side as I ponder what he could give me that would ever amount to how badly I want him and him alone. "A good book perhaps?" He arches a perfect brow. It pains me how well he knows me.

"A book would be nice." I hum and he pushes from the doorway, excited to accomplish a new task. His gaze lingers on me before he closes the door and his silent footsteps recede down the hall.

I look back out the window while I wait, fiddling with the mating ring around my fourth finger. My cough seemed to have settled, I'll have to tell my brother to increase Madja's salary for her admirable work — or maybe I'd pay her directly myself. As soon as I'm better I will, whenever that might be. I release a long sigh and allow my eyes to shut for a moment, I must've slept for half the day earlier but that didn't stop the rest from weighing at my heavy lids.

Before I dared slip into a sleep the spymaster opened the door with a multitude of items in his hands. I couldn't help but smile. The night courts intimidating Shadowsinger was at my door, with soup and tea and a book, taking care of me. He had one of the world's deadliest knife's at his thigh and he probably used it to cut open my tea bag.

"Az, I'm gonna cry." I warn. My already watery eyes verging on tears as I think about how much he does for me.

"No don't cry." His brows crease as he sits on his side of our bed, placing a bowl of soup down on my nightstand. "I tried to follow your mom's recipe but it won't be as good." He frowns and there's nothing more I want to do then kiss the pout off his perfect face. "And this is hot, so don't drink it for a few minutes." He places a steaming cup of tea beside the soup. "And this," He holds up a worn paper back book. "I went to Nesta and asked her for the best romance novel she could think of and she gave me this so." He places it on my lap. "Hopefully it's as smutty as you hope." He mutters beneath his breath and I flush hot but blamed it on my fever.

"Thank you." My voice was a rasp, he looked to my eyes. Hazel laced with love and admiration, the emotions reflecting on the golds and greens of his irises.

"Get some rest after eating, you have to get your strength up so I can get my sparring buddy back." He placed a hand on my forehead to check my temperature, something on his expression falls when he doesn't notice any difference from the last time he checked my temperature.

"Is Cassian not good enough anymore?" I scoff.

"He's not you." He huffs and an upside down smile spreads over my expression.

"I know you're sick but I really want to kiss you." He admits and just the idea makes me feel warmer inside. I grab him by the collar of his shirt and pull him into me, his upper half hovering over me as I plant my lips onto his. I grin against the sensation, it's only been a few days but gods, how did I forget how perfect it felt to have his mouth against mine?

He pulls back first and I debate chasing him back but he pecks my forehead and I settle for it, leaning back onto my headboard yet again. "I'm going to finish up an assignment then I'll come to bed, okay?" He gets up from the bed and my eyes follow.

"Mhm." I nod tiredly.

"If I find you reading that book when I get back I'm taking it away." He warns and I bite my bottom lip mischievously.

"Goodnight lovely." A shadow tucks a strand of hair behind my ear as I watch him make his way to the door.

"Night Az." I muse in reply, already reaching for my bowl of the nostalgic meal.

—

About an hour later I had finished my entire bowl of soup and cup of tea. Both of them reminding me of my mother humming her favorite songs as she sewed her dresses, of Rhys teaching me how to fly before I could even walk, of Cassian brawling with my brother when he first moved in, and of Azriel's warm embrace.

I was curled into a ball with a mage light over my head, flipping through the pages of the romance novel Nesta lent me. It was a fantasy with just the right amount of erotica, the kind that would make any female flush. There were a few times when I'd have to close the book and take a breather before opening it back up, which meant it was perfection.

The door opened with a creak and I slammed the book shut the way a teenage boy might with a nude magazine. Azriel crinkles his brows at me and I look at him guiltlessly. "Evening handsome." I greet and he blinks at me like I'm crazy.

"Why are you being weird?" He utters, coming further into the room and closing the door behind him. I fold my lips inward to keep myself from laughing or possibly exposing that I was reading absolute filth just moments ago.

"Just reading." I shrug innocently and he narrowed his gaze in on me but seemed to let it go when striding over to the armoire to change. I watched him shamelessly as he stripped off his shirt, golden tan skin inked in swirling black. He shuffles through the drawers, giving me a full show of his muscular back and those large wings. My breath hitched as I stare without caution and a small chuckle sounds from him. He knows I'm watching, and at this point I can't find it in myself to care.

"Are you flexing on purpose?" I ask him as he discards his leathers for a pair of lounge pants.

"I'm not flexing love." He confesses and my stomach does backflips. Cords of muscle rippled from his shoulders down to his bulging arms, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't at least a little turned on. And he was just standing there. He turns to look at my tinged cheeks and it only makes me blush more. The eye contact just might kill me. The nonchalance and causality of it made my stomach churn, as if he wasn't standing there in front of me shirtless.

"You're teasing." I set my book on the nightstand and sink down into my pillows.

"How so?" His question is half a laugh because he knows what he's doing.

"I can't have you right now." I whine like some sort of child, pulling the blankets up and over my head so I don't have to look at his chest that seemed to be sculpted by the gods themselves. The bed sinks and I know he's now beside me. I can't help but gravitate towards him only to stop myself because I know cuddling would get him sick.

His strong arm wraps around my waist and pulls my back to his chest.

"No, Az I don't want to get you sick." I protest, pulling away with the weakest strength since the predicament at hand wasn't all too bad.

"I already told you I don't care if I get sick." He brings me in closer and who was I to deny my mate's embrace?

It was nice to lay beside him, nice to have his warmth radiating onto me. I missed him even if it's only been a few days, even if he still sleeps beside me every night. I missed the physicality of it. Azriel's never been one for touch but sometimes I go through phases where if I don't have my hands constantly on him I'd collapse.

So I allowed myself to lean into his chest, matching my breathing to his and intertwining my hand with his scarred one. "I love you." He hums into my shoulder, placing gentle kisses to the crook of my neck and a soft smile spreads across my lips.

"Would you still love me if—" I begin but he doesn't let me finish,

"Yes." His tone is confident and didn't waver for a beat.

"You don't even know what I was going to say." I pout and I feel him shake his head against me.

"As long as you're still you, I love you." He professes and I flip around to look at his golden eyes that the stars themselves were outmatched against.

"I love you too." My voice is a mere whisper but a wide grin takes over his face, revealing his dimples. His smile was so bright I thought for a moment that sun wouldn't rise in fear of rivaling it. "And I'm totally getting you sick." I threaten but he doesn't seem to mind, especially not when I lean forward a few inches in order to kiss that grin.

"Sleep, love." He coerced and pulls me into his chest, his wing draping over me like a blanket, blocking out any seeping light from the moon outside. "I'll be here in the morning." He muses, smoothing a scarred hand over my hair. He continues to play with the strands until I'm drifting off into that touch, his warmth inviting me to sleep.

Azriel was quick to follow, once he noticed my breathing even out. Shadows settle around us as his lids grow heavy and his weight falls into the bed. With me in his arms it was easier for him to sleep, the comfort of knowing I'm safe while in his hold pushed him further into that sweet relief of rest.

[thef1diary]

Want You | M. Verstappen

Summary: It should feel so wrong to want him, especially when you're in a happy relationship, but you can't stop your thoughts from controlling your actions.

Warnings: 18+, reader is cheating on her current bf, smut, fingering, oral (f receiving), filthy words, angst (not with Max), google translated Dutch.

Word Count: 2.6k

Pairing: max x fem!reader

This time, he was the one who reached out. But it's become a habit, so it didn't really matter who actually texted the other first. Though, it was nice to know that he was also thinking about you.

Your boyfriend was out of town, so this was a lot easier. Easier to convince yourself that what you were doing isn't bad. But, deep down, you know it is.

You didn't have to sneak out or make excuses that you were seeing a friend. Taking your time getting dressed, you smiled at your reflection in the mirror. At least, he could recognize your beauty and praise you for it. You absolutely loved how he praised you while fucking you into oblivion.

You decided to wear a navy blue lingerie, showing off your body that Max clearly loved. Since you cannot wear that outside, you'd have to cover it up with a coat and boots.

If you were asked a few months ago, you would say that you're happy in your current relationship. But, even though you haven't admitted it yet, you know that you're not. There's no other reason why you keep ending up in his arms over and over again.

Forgetting about your boyfriend for tonight, you made your way to the location you knew way too well. To your ex's house—Max's house.

Parking right in front of his house, you sent him a text that you reached. Then, you briefly glanced at the other messages you had to pass some time. That's when you noticed the text from your boyfriend. He simply told you about his stressful day filled with meetings, then asked about yours.

It seemed like a normal conversation between a couple but it wasn't. He never asked about your day or your plans, unless it concerned him. You two fell out of love as fast as you fell in love.

His text caused you to spiral into the pit of guilt. You shouldn't be here, sleeping with another man while your boyfriend was working away. That's another thing you started disliking about him, the amount of workload he started taking on. It was like he wanted to be away from you, and maybe that was a good thing because of the arguments you two keep having.

Ignoring the text messages, you put your phone away. Taking another look in the mirror, you applied another coat of lipstick that you knew he loved, then got out of the car with a slight smirk on your face. It was not your fault that you were here, it was your boyfriend's fault that he couldn't keep you happy.

You noticed how the porch light turned on and he walked out, probably concerned why it took you a while to come inside. After all, you didn't have to text him, you could walk right in his house like you owned it. Because, once you did and he never wanted to take that away. The time and circumstances did.

He stood by the door, watching you with darkened eyes as you walked towards him. He wrapped one arm around your waist while the other hand caressed your cheek before placing his lips on yours.

Max's house was in a slightly secluded area and it was getting dark too, so you weren't worried about someone seeing you. You let yourself get lost in his touch, melting against his lips.

"Hi" you whispered when you parted away from him. He might've been smirking before, but now he was genuinely smiling. His hands caressed your body, pulling you as close as possible. "It didn't take a lot of convincing this time." He stated while placing light kisses down your neck.

Usually whenever he calls you over, it takes you a while to agree because you'd have to be careful of your current lover. Lying was something you were never good at, but practice makes perfect.

"Didn't want to be alone tonight." You muttered while holding back a moan. It had been one week since you were in his arms, and that entire week was spent in agony because you didn't sleep with your boyfriend either. More like he didn't want to.

Max faced you again, a devilish smile on his face, "alone?" He asked even though he knew the answer. "He's working, out of town" you simply replied before moving Max out of the way and walking inside. After all, it was getting cold and you didn't like the mention of your boyfriend while you were with Max.

He followed you inside, removing your coat for you and seeing what you had on underneath. "Fucking hell, is that all for me?" He groaned when he saw the blue lingerie you specifically wore for him. "Who else?" You raised an eyebrow.

"Damn right, no one else." He couldn't keep eye contact with you because his gaze was admiring your beauty, and soon he would show you just how much.

You bent down to remove your boots but Max stopped you. He kneeled down, placing your heeled boot on his thigh before slowly unzipping it. He did the same for the other foot, but his hands started roaming around, trailing up your leg.

He placed light kisses trailing up your leg before standing to his full height and capturing your lips with his. Your hair was tied up in a ponytail, but while Max kissed you, his hand wandered up in your hair and removed the hair tie.

"I've had so long to think about what I want to do to you." He muttered in your ear when you parted. "An entire week, always on my mind."

"Should I apologize for that?" You teased, earning a glare in return. "I was thinking of you while racing, so yes, apologize for distracting me."

"I don't think it was that big of an issue, after all, you won." You reminded him of his latest victory. He shrugged, "but you weren't there."

You rolled your eyes at his words. He has told you how much he wants you to be by his side in the paddock, but you can't. Not anymore. "We're not dating, Max"

"I think it's time to make you forget about that, liefje." He simply said before he picked you up and took you to his bedroom.

Placing you on the bed, he spread your legs before sliding up between them to kiss you. God he loved kissing you. Your hand trailed down to the hem of his shirt, pulling it up. He parted away from you to remove his top completely, then began placing wet kisses down your neck.

You arched your back, bringing yourself closer to him as he easily found the sweet spot behind your ear that made you moan sweetly. Even if you weren't together anymore, Max remembered every sweet spot of your body, and he was using that knowledge to his advantage tonight.

His goal was to make you forget about your boyfriend. And so far, it was working.

"As much as I love this, it has to go" he commented while looking at your lingerie. You sat up a bit so you could unclasp your bra, but before you could reach you hand around, his had already found the clasp.

"Laat mij voor je zorgen, schat." [let me take care of you] You didn't know what he said, but you absolutely loved it when he spoke in his mother tongue. You tried learning Dutch, but it was definitely a harder language to learn, plus Max wasn't the best teacher because he'd distract you often.

You let him remove your bra, throwing it somewhere in the room. Then, he licked his lips before leaning closer to you and pressing a light kiss on your chest. His tongue peeking out to tease your nipple, making it hard by blowing cool air on it.

"Max" you moaned his name, itching for him to touch you properly. "You want me?" He asked like he didn't know the answer. "Yes!" You exclaimed, making him chuckle. "I'm all yours."

He moved further down your body, trailing kisses across your stomach before reaching the waistband of your panties. He didn't remove it yet, no, he was going to tease you as much as he could. Sliding his thumb to rest on your clothed clit, he put a little pressure and started rubbing slowly. "Barely even touched you and so wet already."

You groaned, just wanting him to do something, anything. "Max, please" you begged and that sound was like music to his ears. "I know, I told you, I'll take care of you. Just be a little patient."

Removing his thumb, he moved your panties to the side, finally seeing your glistening pussy waiting for his touch. He licked his thumb before placing it directly on your clit. Sliding it down, he separated your folds and spread your wetness all around. His face was so close that you could feel his hot breath.

He moved his thumb once again but before you could complain, he spread your folds apart with two fingers before placing his tongue on you, licking deeply. "Fuck" you gasped. His movements were licking and kissing your sweet pussy, getting you prepared for his cock. He muttered your name, "you taste so sweet"

You arched you back again when you felt Max slowing down, but his arm was resting on your stomach; the weight holding you in place. Then, you felt his tongue delve deeper in your hole, just enough to make you squirm but far from bringing you over the edge. He did that a few times before using his thumb to circle your clit again. Your mind was hazy due to the constant pleasure, and you didn't even notice when he moved his arm away from your stomach and entered two fingers in the hole he was teasing with his tongue earlier.

Bending his fingers just the right way caused you to let out a loud moan because you did not expect him to take it up a notch. Replacing his thumb with his tongue on your clit, he enveloped it in between his lips. "Max, make me cum. Make me cum on your fucking tongue." You more so instructed than pleaded but he happily obliged.

Increasing the intensity, he flicked your clit with his tongue over and over again while pumping his fingers faster, adding a third one as well. Since he wasn't holding you down anymore, your back arched as he brought you closer to the brink of an orgasm. One of your hands fisted the bedsheet underneath you while the other made its way into Max's hair.

His hair was the perfect length to pull on, using that as an advantage to bring him even closer to your sweet pussy. You tried looking at him but once the pleasure became too much to bear, your eyes rolled back in pleasure as you were sent over the edge.

Max slowed down but he was still lapping up your cum, moaning at the taste. Your hand left his hair and he pressed one more kiss on your clit before looking up at you. That was a beautiful sight. His hair messed up, his lips a darker shade, and your cum glistening around his mouth. And you didn't miss the way his eyes were still dark but shining now.

"What are you waiting for, come up here" Your voice was a little rough because you spent the last few minutes before your orgasm moaning nonstop. Max stood up, hands unbuttoning his jeans while he made direct eye contact with you. Then his gaze travelled lower, looking at you all spread out for him. When you realized that, you blushed feverishly and moved to close your legs.

"Don't. I wanna see all of you" He instructed and you had no choice but to listen. He slid in between your legs then kissed you again, letting you taste your own cum as his tongue was granted access to your mouth.

His own pleasure wasn't something he was after, instead, he loved trailing kisses down your body. Letting him express his love for you. But that was a conversation for another day.

Your small bubble of joy popped when you heard the familiar sound of your ringtone. You had an idea of who could possibly be calling you right now, and you didn't like it. max saw your expression turn sour after hearing your phone ring, knowing exactly who it was. "What do you say, let me pick it up and end it once and for all?"

You turned your head to face him, "no, let me handle it." You moved off the bed despite Max's pleads otherwise. You already had a missed call from him, and you knew how much he hated it when he could call and you wouldn't pick up.

"Where are you?" was how you were greeted. "oh I'm doing great thanks, and you?" your tone was laced with sarcasm but he didn't like it one bit. "cut the bullshit, where are you?"

"Where else would I be, I'm at ho-" you began telling your lie but he cut you off, "are you really at home? because I'm standing in our bedroom right now so you are clearly not at home."

"shit" you mouthed and Max saw your expression and raised his eyebrow in question because he couldn't hear the other side of the conversation. Your attention was brought back to the phone call once you heard your boyfriend call your name, "it is almost midnight, where the fuck are you?"

"Why are you home?" you countered, avoiding the answer to his question because you needed time to think of a lie. He was the type of boyfriend to call your friends and ask if you were with them, so you couldn't even lie about that. Plus, they didn't know about your relationship with your ex. Max knew exactly what was going on when you said those words. Then, you put the phone on speaker so he could hear your boyfriend's next words.

"I thought that I would surprise you, but you are not even here to greet me. Can't even do anything good for you nowadays." his words angered you but you knew how to keep calm in these moments, Max on the other hand did not.

"Maybe if you cared about her and loved her more, then she wouldn't be with me right now." Max spoke out loud, surprising both you and your boyfriend. "Is that Max fucking Verstappen? You better not be fucking him."

"Well I was about to but you called, so if you're done then hang the fuck up." You don't know what overcame you to say that but you did know that you were tired of it all. "You're cheating on me?" he asked incredulously. "This is not how I wanted to tell you this, but I'm not in love with you anymore. We're done."

"No, this is the right time because I found someone else, but I didn't go around your back to fuck someone else while we were still in a relationship." He insulted you but it didn't hurt as much as you thought it would. "Well then I wish you well. I'll come by to pick up my stuff later." then you hung up before he could get another word in.

There was a moment of silence before you looked at Max. "Does that mean you can stay the night?" he asked, making you forget about all your worries for now. "Yes, I'm staying" you replied which made a smile grow on his face. "Good, because I still plan on fucking you until the only word you can say is my name."

[kenzlovesyou]

hi bby!! can you do something for kate where like kate just adores reader but reader is a acedemic weapon and like is oblivious and kate is so down bad??? kind of like so high school by taylor?? brownie points if reader is

short cause kate is super tall!!!

ahh i love this idea so much ur so cute also this isn’t the best i’m sorry if you don’t like it!!

Not Like You - Kate Martin x Reader

Kate adored you. It was as simple as that. She admired every little thing you did. Whether it was watching you study for an exam, mesmerized by the way your hair cascaded down your shoulders, or studying your features as you reapplied your lip gloss in the mirror, she loved to look at you.

Even when the two of you had just met, Kate was in deep. She’d met you at the university’s library. She had come in to look for a book to use as a source for a paper she was writing and she was starstruck when she turned the corner and saw you sitting there at a table with your nose in a book. She had been feeling confident, after the hawkeye’s win a few days prior. Kate sat next to you and struck up a conversation about the book you were reading. You were more than happy to talk to her.

Ever since that day, you and Kate were super close. She followed you around like a lost puppy. The two of you fit together perfectly like pieces of a puzzle. To you, Kate was the best friend you wished you’d had by your side all throughout high school. She always made you smile and laugh and was always there for you through everything. You started to wish a guy made you feel the way Kate made you feel.

But to Kate, you were so much more than that. To her you were an angel sent to her from up above. The more time passed, the more you and Kate became attached at the hip. You often streamed Kate’s games and even decided to watch a couple in person when you could pull yourself away from your studies. Kate, not knowing you’d be there, was shocked and surprised. She hid behind Caitlin so she could steal looks at you. You made her nervous. She noticed how her cheeks grew pink over the twinkling lights and she realized something: you weren’t just her friend. You made her feel like a teenager again, the giddiness and nervousness she felt around you.

A couple months later, Kate invited you over to her apartment to hangout with her and some of her teammates. You’d accepted, surprisingly, and the team welcomed you with open arms. Kate saw the way you quickly bonded with her teammates and her heart swelled. She was happy with her two worlds colliding, the team and you. You leaned into Kate’s shoulder as she sat down next to you on her spacious couch. The two of you had gotten more and more physically affectionate.

“Guys,” Jada started to say from her spot on the couch, “we should totally play kiss, marry, kill!” Everyone laughed at her idea, but eventually agreed to it as they were all pretty bored. “Caitlin. Kiss, marry, kill.. Jake from State Farm, Steph Curry, and Connor.” You all giggled at Jada’s choices for Caitlin and listened to her answer. “Honestly out of all of those I’d probably have to kill Connor, kiss Steph Curry, and marry Jake.” Everyone exploded into laughter. You excused yourself and went to the bathroom, with Gabbie following you because she had to go as well. When you were gone, Caitlin decided to take the lead in the girls’ matchmaker plan.

“Okay, Kate your turn. Kiss, marry, kill…Y/n.” Kate looked at her confused. “What? Bro, you literally just said Y/n.” Jada and Caitlin rolled their eyes as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I mean, with the way you look at her it’ll probably be all three.” Kate’s jaw dropped and she let out an audible gasp.

“Is it really that obvious?” Caitlin and Jada both deadpanned, “Yes.”

-

Meanwhile, you finished your bathroom turn and heard a soft knock on the door. “You can come in, I’m just washing my hands!” You called out to whoever was outside the door. Gabbie turned the knob and walked inside the cozy but still spacious bathroom space.

“Hey, girl! How’s is going?” You smiled at Gabbie. She seemed like such a sweet person and you warmed up to her pretty quickly. The two of you talked for a couple minutes, making small talk and conversation. Then, it was Gabbie’s turn to execute her part of the plan. “So, how are things with Kate?” You looked at her, extremely confused.

“What do you mean? She’s my best friend, we’re great, just like always. Why? Wait, did she say something? Does she think we’re not-“

“Nononono! Not like that at all! I just meant. Well. How do I even say this..” Gabbie paused and you looked at her expectantly. “Y/n, do you notice the way Kate looks at you?” You were beyond confused. Did Kate look at you differently? Was it something you’d done? What made her think of you differently? When had it started? Among all the questions in your head, one was louder than the others. How exactly did Kate look at you?

Gabbie pulled you out of your thoughts by putting a hand on your shoulder. “Y/n, come on girl! She looks at you like you hung the moon.”

Suddenly something in you clicked. You thought back to all of the times Kate had you over to hangout, just the two of you. How she coaxed you into watching scary movies and let you hold onto her when it got too scary. How she’s taken you on more dates than any guy ever has. How she’s always been your person to lean on as long as you’ve known her, and she’s been yours. You thought about her hair, and how she’d always begged you to braid it for her games so she’d have good luck. You thought about her eyes, and how they gleamed and sparkled everytime she looked at you. You thought, ‘Shit. I’m gay. AND I’m in love with my best friend.’ But that part was thought out loud and Gabbie let out a smile.

“Glad you figured it out. I’m here if you need anything or wanna-“ Gabbie couldn’t even finish before you rushed out of the bathroom and back into the living room. You sat down on the couch next to Kate and grabbed her close to you, putting you lips to her ear. “Can we talk?” Kate nodded immediately and excused the both of you and you lead her to the bathroom and you Gabbie had just been in, Gabbie shooting you a thumbs up as she walked past you in the hall.

You closed the door behind you and hoisted yourself onto the bathroom counter, sitting and letting your legs dangle off. You turned your back to her and stared at yourself in the mirror, silently trying to hype yourself up after such a new discovery. Kate looked at you expecting you to say something. “Did you bring me in here so we could both admire you in the mirror? Because if that’s the case then-“

“Kate, I’m gay. I like girls, no, well yes, but a girl. I like a girl and I’m really scared because I’ve never felt this way about a girl before. Or a guy, really. No one. They’re just not like you, Kate. Nobody’s like you. I’ve just figured this out literally five minutes ago but it all makes sense now and just-“ Kate cuts you off by pulling you into her chest. She doesn’t kiss you. Not because she doesn’t want to, of course she does, but she knows how new and scary this must feel to you and she doesn’t want to overwhelm you anymore. She wipes the tears that were forming in your eyes and beginning to drop away in a swift motion, “It’s okay, Y/n. Nothing we don’t want to change has to change.” You look up at her and all you can do was smile. Even in this, she’s your rock.

“Okay,” you say smiling, “you got that you were the girl I like though, right?” Kate rolled her eyes and pulled you into another hug.

“I think I got that before you even did.”

[restlessmaknae]

love ≠ hurt // jiung

You might have been the most imperfect version of you, but as you looked at Jiung, you felt like he didn’t care.

➳ Characters: boyfriend!Jiung x female!reader/you

➳ Genre: established relationship, real-life bittersweet, comforting

➳ Words: 1.2k

➳ Warning: mentions of pimples, body image, insecurities, reader not being enough for her father and previous boys in her life

➳ A/N: I recommend listening to beabadoobee's Girl Song while reading. This story was partly inspired by her song + Jiung being the best boy he is + some bad days of mine that made me realise how lucky I am to have supportive people in my life who accept me for who I truly am (yes, I'm looking at you @dat-town ❤️)

One pimple, two pimples, three… It was embarrassing to count them all, let alone hide them under multiple layers of make-up or a less noticeable shade of a pimple patch. All these imperfections, all these blemishes, all these disappointments…

You heaved a sigh, eyeing the version of you in the mirror that you never wished to see. Someone less than perfect, someone more like a flawed human being. This was not how things were supposed to go.

Reaching for your phone, you made your decision. There was no way you would go out in your state. Your face was one thing, your feelings were another. You secretly hoped that Jiung wouldn’t pick up, but he did, he always did. You didn’t know how, but he always managed to do the opposite of what you assumed he would do. What you hoped he would do, proving you that he was just another boy, treating you like just another girl with a heart like a game only they knew the rules to, and you were left losing each and every time, no matter how much you tried to win.

“Hey!” Jiung greeted you from the other side of the line, his voice cheery and light. You could picture his smile, his lips curling high enough to make his dimples appear and deepen into his cheeks, high enough to turn his eyes into little crescents, his eyelashes casting shadows over his skin. You could picture him sitting by the windows at a café or on the couch in his flat with a book propped up on his knees, his full attention on you. And even just the thought of it pained you.

Why did he even pick up?

“Hey, Y/N! Are you there? Is something wrong?” He asked, worried, the smile disappearing from his voice. He was so quick to notice the change in your behaviour whenever you let your mask slip, to hone in on whatever you were feeling, and even though the thought that he, at least, saw when you were uncomfortable should have reassured you, it just made you feel more miserable.

Why did he do everything right?

You pursed your lips tight, willing yourself to hold it in. After all, you were better than this. Right?

“Yeah, I just…” You started, your voice coming off distant, almost unfamiliar. You balled your free hand into a fist, guilt so deep it turned into numbness. You were usually so good at lying, denying, averting the topic, so why couldn’t you do it now?

“It’s okay. You can tell me anything, you know that.”

Damn him, you knew that, and that just broke your heart even more. He deserved someone so much better, so much brighter, so much more… everything. He deserved someone who was not you.

You were surprised even when he noticed that you changed your perfume or when you cut your hair even just a bit. When he opened the door for you, when he paid for your drinks, when he suggested staying inside to watch a movie instead of going to the cinema when you had cramps, when he cooked hangover soup for you after your aunt’s wedding, when he tried to cheer you up instead of putting you down when you messed up an exam at uni, when he supported you when you tried out something new, and when he didn’t judge you even if the cracks of your perfect facade started showing.

“I just… I don’t feel good enough to go out,” you croaked out, your voice coming out tiny.

You weren’t even sure it made sense, you weren’t even sure that was a plausible excuse, or if he would even believe you. After all, when you were younger, no excuse was good enough to go against your father. After all, since you started dating, ‘no’ was not an answer for your boyfriends.

“That’s okay, don’t worry,” came the answer in a heartbeat, and the fact that he didn’t even hesitate, he didn’t even have to think about… it twisted something within you, it was painful and beautiful all the while. “Do you want me to come over?”

Yes.

No.

Maybe?

You couldn’t tell. Jiung’s presence always comforted you, but whenever he wasn’t around, you started questioning all his actions towards you. You started questioning whether he truly, genuinely liked you like how love was in the books and movies, or he would just leave you behind like every other boy in your life, and it was just like waiting for a storm that would surely hit your home sooner or later.

“I-I don’t know…”

A moment of silence. You were sure that this would be it, this would be the trigger on the gun, the first flap of the butterfly’s wings that would change the whole course of your relationship, the final push towards the cliff…

“I’ll come over, and then, you can always tell me to go away if you feel uncomfortable,” Jiung offered gently, and since you didn’t protest, he said that he would be there in 30 minutes.

And so he did. Even if you thought that he wouldn’t show up, even if you assumed that he would change his mind, he didn’t. He showed up with a bag full of your favourite snacks, your favourite type of tea and your favourite cup noodles. There was no frustration or resentment in his voice, no hesitation in his actions as he started warming up the noodles for you, no hurry in his words when he asked you what was wrong.

At first, you were frozen like a deer caught in the headlights. No words, not even a tiny sound came out of your mouth. You were still, waiting for him to say that ‘it was whatever’, that he didn’t care that much, but instead, he just blinked at you with those boba eyes of his, and something powerful from within burst outside in the form of a pained sob.

Jiung immediately reached out to pat your back, and brought out a pack of tissues from the plastic bag. Your tears flew like rain on an autumn night, heavy and somewhat enraged, constantly and without seemingly an end. They represented salvation, redemption and realisation. This was what you had been keeping down, this was what you had been hiding, and as mundane as it seemed, talking about this pang, this hurt, this forever bleeding cut inside of you seemed like tending to your wounds instead of opening them up.

You might have been the most imperfect version of you that you had ever been, but as you looked at Jiung, looked into his beautiful, warm eyes, leaned into his gentle touch, you felt like he didn’t care. What’s more, you had never seen him so full of care, so full of love.

And it felt wrong but also so right, unfamiliar in the most familiar way possible, and so very hurtful but also healing, and maybe that’s what it was all about. Like a sonnet about love, tragic but oh so beautiful, loving didn’t have to hurt, rather loving could mend the hurt within you.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this story of mine! Let me know what you think!

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[the-scythes-pen]

Professor!Dan Heng is the sweetest guy. All of his coworkers love him, all of his students love him... It almost seems like he's qualified in every subject- able to fill in for his coworkers when needed, happy to assist in marking assignments or suggesting what assignments to give.

Professor!Dan Heng is the BEST professor you can get. Kind, understanding, perhaps a little bit dry sometimes, but he makes up for it with the interesting tidbits he throws into his lectures, or the topics he chooses to cover in class.

Professor!Dan Heng is popular among students not just because of how he teaches, but also his appearance. Of course, how could they not? Dan Heng is oblivious to this, even when Professor!March or Professor!Himeko try to point it out to him.

Professor!Dan Heng is always more then willing to help out a student whos struggling and looking to improve- or even just to answer questions that students have after class. He loves how curious you are, how you ask such interesting questions both during and after class- and he particularly enjoys you coming during office hours to ask him to help you with an assignment.

Those moments, alone with him in his office, are often the best. He's so kind, offering you tea as he helps guide you through the questions on the paper, always maintaining a respectful distance and attitude towards you.

However, Professor!Dan Heng can't help the way his heart flutters when your eyes light up when you get a question right all on your own- can't help the way his smile mirrors yours when you finally begin to understand what you had previously been struggling with.

You two slowly get closer; with you asking more and more interesting questions, engaging in conversation with him post-class, the topic often eventually straying to some other subject- but he doesn't mind, because Professor!Dan Heng truly is a dork who loves to share his knowledge and discuss different ideas and possibilities.

Professor!Dan Heng is always respectful of you, even when his heart is fluttering and he's barely able to maintain a friendly but slightly stoic facade. When Dan Heng falls for you, he keeps it silent- he lets no indication of his feelings for you slip out.

Its only when you, alone with him in the classroom one day, burst into tears over something- a bad or even failing grade, whether in his own class or a different one- and his heart aches at seeing his favourite student so stressed, crying and trying to excuse yourself so as not to embarrass yourself.

But no, Professor!Dan Heng isn't going to let you leave in such a state. You try to leave but then his hand is around yours (your hand fits his so perfectly), pulling you back towards the classroom and sitting you down at one of the desks, sitting next to you and leaning forward, gently caressing your hand in such a soothing motion as he asks you for details. What are you struggling with? What happened? He's more then willing to help you, no matter what the subject is. He's qualified to teach in many, many areas- and if you happen to be struggling in a subject he's unfamiliar with, he can easily go to whoever your teacher is and explain things to them, or even ask to be briefed on the subject so he can more easily help you.

Once you've calmed down a bit, Dan Heng leads you out of the classroom, down the hall and towards his office. He brews some tea for you- whatever he's noticed your favourite flavour to be- and ensures it's made to however you like it, whether it's with honey or milk or sugar or anything else.

It doesn't matter how late it gets, he'll stay there with you until you feel better. He doesn't mind if you vent to him about whatever is bothering you, or if you just want to sit in silence, or even talk about something completely different- no matter what it is, he just wants you to feel better.

And when you finally stand up to leave, throwing your arms around him in a moment of emotion to thank him gratefully, he hesitates- but only for a moment, before his arms are around you too and holding you gently, his hand reaching up to stroke your hair soothingly, and perhaps he's pushing the boundaries of a student-teacher relationship just a bit, but in the moment he doesn't care. All he cares about is you, and helping you feel better.

His smile is gentle- caring and handsome when the two of you pull away, and he asks you if you're doing better, if you'll be ok on your own now, and when you nod, he lets out a silent breath of relief. He watches you leave his office with a fluttering heart- you felt so good in his arms, so vulnerable and small- no matter how your stature compares to his, he felt a need to protect and cherish you. Thus, to him, you felt small.

And after you're gone, Professor!Dan Heng has to admit to himself that he cares about you. A lot. And... perhaps, he even loves you. And thats a problem.

So he denies it. Denies that he loves you- says that he only thinks of you as a friend, and thats ok, right?

But when you come back to him, excited about your good grade after his assistance, he can't deny how he loves your bright smile, how comfortable he feels when you embrace him again in your excitement as you thank him endlessly.

And when you pull away from the hug yet again, he can't let you go- no, not this time. He keeps you somewhat close, that soft smile on his face as his hand hovers on your cheek, and its only when he takes in your shocked- and flustered- expression that he realizes what he's doing.

It's the first time you've seen the stoic man blush. He goes to pull away, hesitantly- but you catch him, tell him it's ok- and his hand is back on your cheek, his eyes searching yours for any reluctance or hesitation or anything-

And then his lips are on yours. They're soft, gentle, loving; and in that moment Professor!Dan Heng accepts his feelings for you, accepts that despite your circumstances, he loves you. He can't help it.

His hand caresses your cheek, his fingers card through your hair, and then his touch is drifting to your waist, pulling you closer against him as his tongue hesitantly swipes at your lips.

The kiss doesn't go father then that- as Professor!Dan Heng is too shy, too respectful of you to do more then that just yet, even if he wants to. So he breaks the kiss, his cheeks flushed as he continues to hold you close and mumbles

"I'm proud of you."

[tea-stained-notes]

Colin x Penelope - Divide | Chapter 1

Colin has made it: He's a famous pop star, touring the world, adored to extremes. If only he wasn't drowning his loneliness and anxiety in too many drinks, missing home and yet incapable of going back. But when Violet falls ill and he reluctantly returns he has to face the mess he has made - not only with his family but also the woman who might have always been the one.

Warnings: illness (cancer), death, anxiety, drug use, alcohol abuse, eventual smut

Chapter word count: ~ 800

I love how I've technically just sworn off writing chapter fics after my last one took me literal years to complete but what can I say, I randomly listened to Ed Sheeran's album Divide and thought "Wouldn't it be fun to write a fic in which every chapter is vaguely based on one of these songs?" Well, five seconds later the idea for this was born and now I guess I must write it - at least it gave me an excuse to go crazy in Canva lol

Life can get you down so I just numb the way it feels I drown it with a drink and out-of-date prescription pills - Save Myself

“Bridgerton.” Silence. “Bridgerton!” A groan. “For fuck’s sake, Colin, open up.” An even louder groan, then sluggish steps and the click of a lock. The door swings open. Colin’s manager barely bats an eye at the sorry state of him. She shoves a water bottle and a coffee thermos into his chest. “Drink this. Tom will be here in ten to fix up this—“ She gestures vaguely at his face. “I hope.” He clumsily takes the drinks, almost dropping them when his agent stacks a sandwich on top. “Christ, Mei, can you give me a minute?” “Because you’re once again shitfaced an hour before your gig? No, I fucking can’t, Bridgerton.” She sighs, massaging the space between her brows. “You’re lucky you’re only twenty-six, so this look is still cute on you. But it won’t be forever.” “Aww, you think I’m cute?” “Even I was into guys, you’d be very far down the list.” “Who’s at the top?” “Dunno, Chris Evans?” “Basic.” “I like him for his brain, ya know. Some of us aren’t shallow dicks.” “Love you too.” Colin gulps down half the water, then rips into the sandwich. “Maybe if you didn’t eat like a five-year-old, people would find you more attractive as well.” “Nah, thanks, I’ve already got my hands full,” he mumbles between bites. “And don’t I suffer for it.” Mei turns to leave. “Eight minutes, Bridgerton.” As soon as the door is shut Colin stumbles towards the sofa of his green room and collapses onto it. His head is already pounding and he hasn’t even given the hangover time to develop. He’s not a heavy drinker. Sure, on particularly lonely nights he will sometimes nurse a bottle of Scotch so shitty Anthony wouldn’t touch it with a ten foot pole. But it’s mostly before concerts that he turns to alcohol and occasionally weed. Xanax when he feels like he’s drowning. No one can perform in front of fifty-thousand people without some tranquillising.

He has just had his first sip of coffee when Tom knocks. “Come in.” “Hey, you ready?” “Mei says I have to be.” Tom chuckles fondly and starts unpacking his tools and products. Colin plops down into the chair while nicking a disinfection wipe from him. He quickly cleans his hands, then reaches for his light-green contact lenses. His bloodshot eyes stare back at him in the mirror. “You sure you don’t wanna skip the contacts tonight?” Tom asks warily. “Your sight’s not that bad, is it?” “It’s not,” Colin sighs, carefully putting them in. “But I prefer not to look like myself up there. Hence, all of your impending magic.” He winks at the stylist and Tom blushes before busying himself with finding the right shade of concealer. Colin wonders how many layers of that it will take for his dark circles not to show on the massive screens. “So, it’s more like a mask, huh?” Tom chatters on. “I’ve had a few clients like that.” “Mostly, it lowers the chances of people recognising me in the street. The pros, sure, but it’s surprising how many just pass me by when I have dark eyes, a clean face and bed hair.” “I assume it’s the clothes, too.” Colin chuckles. “Definitely. What has Liyana picked out for me tonight?” “That dark blue leather jacket with all the studs and glitter. I was thinking we could match your eye-makeup?” “Sounds great.” Tom works quietly for a while, fully focused. It’s almost peaceful, the soft, calculated strokes and taps along Colin’s skin. He breathes slowly, trying to untangle the knots in his stomach. “So, what comes after the tour? You going home for a bit?” Colin nearly flinches at the sudden question. “Where’s home at this point?” he asks with a half-hearted smirk. “England, right?” A long beat. “Yeah, I don’t go there.” “Oh. Not even for the tour? I assumed you’d already done that leg when I started a couple months ago.” “Nope,” Colin presses through gritted teeth. “Sorry, Tom, if you don’t mind, could we not talk for a bit? I… need to centre myself before stage.” “Yeah, sure, sor—“ The door bursts open. Mei is deathly pale as she meets Colin’s eyes in the mirror. “Your sister just called.” He knits his brows. “You know I’m not—“ “Tom, could you give us a minute?” The makeup artist nods, then scuttles away. Colin swivels around in his chair. His face falls at Mei’s expression. “It’s your mom.”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

CHAPTER 2

Likes, reblogs and comments are more than welcome ♥️

MASTERLIST

[existslikepristin]

Okay, so I've done a couple of rewrites now, and I don't think I'm going to ever be fully happy with this, so let's just fuckin post this bad bitch

Tags: NSFW, TheLounge, Sounds, Dreamcatcher, Itzy, Gahyeon, Yuna, first times, but let’s be real virginity is a social construct that means nothing about someone’s physical state of being, #LearnHowTheHymenWorks, cunnilingin' n' fingrin', nervousness, not even the normal kind of brattiness, Yuna’s just an insufferable idiot, no anal in this one wtf am i thinking?

Off to a Slow Start

~~~~~

Gahyeon rubbed the stress out of her eyes. Or at least she tried to. The skinny, shivering girl draped over her lap was turning out to be a pain in Gahyeon’s ass (instead of the other way around, as it should have been). 

“How about we do something else?” Gahyeon asked with a tone somewhere between hopeful and commanding.

“W-what? Why? I’m f-fine. This is s-so hot,” Yuna peeped. Sort of. It was more like she sobbed it like an emotionally damaged puppy might.

It was quite the shocking change in attitude after only two warm up spanks. Yuna’s butt wasn’t even pink.

Downstairs, when she first stomped up to Gahyeon, Yuna had been acting like she was hot shit. She put her hand on Gahyeon’s thigh, played footsie under the table, talked out of her throat like some kind of pornstar wannabe. It came as no surprise, then, when Yuna suggested that Gahyeon accompany her upstairs and "teach [her] a lesson." The part that was actually a surprise was when Gahyeon realized: when Yuna said “teach [her] a lesson,” she might have meant that very literally, because it was pretty obvious she didn’t know what she was getting herself into.

Gahyeon caught Yuna’s glistening eye in a decorative mirror on the wall and raised her hand as if to strike again. Never before had Gahyeon seen someone flinch away so hard from a simple slap on the ass, or grimace like they were expecting an executioner to flip the switch on an electric chair. She lowered her hand and very, very gently patted Yuna’s thigh. "You know what would be fun? Let's make out!”

Yuna pushed herself up on her elbows. Her bare stomach peeled away from Gahyeon’s thighs. Probably because she’d been sweating so darn much from her nerves. She gave Gahyeon a poor excuse for a defiant glare and sniffed away the lump in her throat. “Make… make out? But I’m here for… I thought you were supposed to be a good dominatrix.”

Gahyeon looked up at the dimmed light fixture and exhaled quietly. “Hey, I know you said something kind of like this earlier, but can you remind me what your safe word is, Yuna?” The question sounded a little more condescending than Gahyeon had meant it to.

“I don’t need woa-aaah!”

Crooking her elbow under Yuna’s waist, Gahyeon picked her up, suplexed her onto the bed, climbed on top of her, and got face-to-face. “First of all, ‘dominatrix’ is improper terminology for this situation. Second, if we don’t negotiate a safe word, I’m out of here.”

"Ummm. I, uh. Um."

"Tell me the first word that comes to mind."

“M-mistress?”

Gahyeon rolled her eyes. “Okay, bye.”

“Huh? Wait!”

Gahyeon was already halfway to the door by the time Yuna scrambled off the bed, but turned back to give her an uncaring glare. On her feet, Yuna was a hell of a sight. Tall, skinny, but curvaceous, like the kind of doll that would be sold to make young girls self-conscious about their bodies. Long, dark red hair and black pools for eyes, and she'd put on far more makeup than reasonable for an average coffee run. Gahyeon didn’t want to leave, but Yuna wasn’t making staying the easy decision.

"Wait for what?" Gahyeon asked.

"For… to… so you can make me…"

"I can't make you finish a sentence."

Yuna's supermodel bearing was taken down a peg by her disappointed slouch and concerned grimace. "You know what I mean… like, dominate me."

"Why?"

"Aren’t you horny?"

Gahyeon glanced at Yuna's tits. "No more than usual."

"What? But I…"

"You sure did."

"I-I was going to say—"

"I know."

"N-no you don't!"

Gahyeon groaned, "Maybe I don't care then. No big deal. Take your pick. I don’t like brats. I only tolerate them during Kinktober."

Yuna blushed and looked down, wiggling her knees in discomfort. Gahyeon wasn't going to deny that Yuna was fantastically fuckable, but she was also responsible enough to know when someone was in over their head. "Well, Yuna? What are you trying to do?"

Yuna muttered "I want to get laid" under her breath. With no other noise in the room to mask it, Gahyeon heard it, and yet a vague muttering wasn't what she wanted to hear.

"What's that? I couldn't hear you."

"I wanna get laid,” Yuna whined, fully out loud, “Okay?"

Gahyeon leaned back against the doorframe. "You a virgin?"

Yuna's blush extended down to her shoulders.

"Well that's a yes."

"B-but! I'm—No, I'm not!"

"And you would say that even if I said calling someone a virgin is just a bad social construct and that being a so-called ‘virgin’ is no better or worse than the alternative?"

"Uh…" Yuna scrunched her nose as she used all of her brain power to process the question. "Yes? Or, wait, no?"

"Nevermind.” Gahyeon waved it off. “Just tell me the truth. Have you had sex before or not? Anything with hands or mouths counts."

There was a pause while Yuna weighed her options. "No…”

Gahyeon was actually a little bit shocked. Yuna was among the hottest of idols, so even this level of awkwardness didn’t seem like it should be too much of a hindrance. Gahyeon had fucked or at least fucked around with a dozen idols with subpar social skills in the prior couple of months.

“But I've been trying!” Yuna shouted after the briefest silence, “Nobody will fuck me though! Not even men!”

“The fuck do you mean, ‘Not even men?’”

“Boys are supposed to be horny all the time. But even if I show them my pussy, they keep rejecting me.”

Gahyeon sighed, “Is that proceeding or preceding a conversation?”

“Of course I say ‘Hi.’ I try asking them if they work out too.”

“Is that it? Because idols have to work out. It’s in the job description.”

Yuna groaned and plopped onto the bed, curving her back like a clothes mannequin, apparently subconsciously. “I've tried all the stuff boys are supposed to like! I touch them, I guide their hands to my boobs, I tell them they smell sexy. All that stuff! And don't get me started on girls. I see them going around and getting laid all the time! And it's like, they'll be sluts for anybody except for me, and—”

“Let me stop you there before you make more of a fool of yourself,” Gahyeon snapped. Yuna froze. “A few things. One: We only use words like ‘slut’ in an endearing manner around here. Two: Some people might just not want to fuck you, ever. Can’t control it. And three: Are you just expecting sex from people? Like me?”

Yuna shifted uncomfortably. “No… I'm doing what I'm supposed to do first.”

“And what is that?”

“You know.” Yuna waved her hands around, pantomiming nothing in particular. “I ask politely. I let them know I'm available. I make myself up for them.”

“And…” Gahyeon mimicked Yuna’s pointless pantomimes. “They should obviously be throwing themselves at you, yet somehow nobody is approaching you?”

“I’ve been approached, I guess, but not from anyone in my league.”

“Pretty sure you’re still in the little leagues, my dude.”

Yuna whined, “Why should I be?! Every fan and their mom wants me.”

“Gross power dynamic, but okay. So I should have just known what you wanted when you walked up to me? And I should have wanted to fuck you? No conversation required?”

“Well… No, that’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying that if I do all that stuff—and more, by the way—and they're horny, why shouldn’t they want to fuck me? I'm not even demanding anything from them. I'm offering! Like, blowjobs. I'd be doing all the work!”

Gahyeon stepped away from the door frame and paced the room. “Here's the thing, Yuna. It sounds like people might be picking up on an attitude problem.”

“Attitu—but, no! I'm literally offering a good time, and usually I offer just to make them feel good! I'm not asking for anything in return! What's the big deal?”

“Nothing you've said yet strikes you as ‘bad attitude?’ Because it sounds to me like you're not affording people the courtesy of assuming they have a full breadth of human emotion and think they're good for nothing but sex.”

Yuna blinked. “I-I am, though!”

“Not, or aren't?”

“Ugh!” Yuna grabbed a handful of her hair. “No, I'm saying… You know what? Forget it! I'll just never—”

Looking her up and down for a moment (and not really listening), Gahyeon wondered if her behavior was ever anything like Yuna's. Probably not. She was practically domming her members ever since they met, and it turned sexual almost as soon as Gahyeon was old enough. Relating to Yuna was clearly out of the question.

Even so, Gahyeon felt a sympathetic pulse in her veins. Yuna's troubles, self-imposed or not and ultimately, definitely not anything close to a big deal, were still troubles to Yuna, and they were eating her up, it seemed.

Gahyeon weighed her options. Doing as Yuna demanded would enforce negative opinions. Refusing would make things more awkward for the next person Yuna tried to seduce. But Gahyeon did still like the idea of Yuna… She cracked her knuckles.

“—so I guess I'll just die alone,” Yuna continued to bitch on, “stuffing myself with bigger and bigger—”

Gahyeon cut Yuna off with a hand over her mouth. “Yuna? One word answer. Do you still want to get laid right now?”

Yuna’s eyes, glistening with tears at the edges, widened in something between fear and awe. And yet, she didn’t answer.

Half expecting her to come up with some kind of painfully awkward excuse for saying no, Gahyeon kicked things up a notch. She pulled up her shirt with one hand, catching her bra along the way, and flashed Yuna, full-boobed. She took her hand off Yuna's mouth to gesture at her bare chest, and raised an eyebrow.

“Yes,” Yuna said almost as if she was in a trance.

“Then turn around.”

Yuna scrambled to her feet without standing up fully, spun a hundred and eighty degrees, and fell forward, catching herself on her elbows. Her knees followed her up and with that her ass was presented.

“Good,” Gahyeon said as she took her shirt and bra off entirely, “Now what exactly would you like me to do?”

“Uuuh…”

“Finger you? Tease you?” Gahyeon dropped her pants, climbing out of them and onto the bed behind Yuna. “I can let you take charge. Maybe I shouldn't have told you to turn around?”

Yuna shook her head. “N-no, nope, it would be better with you in charge.”

“Just give me a little bit of guidance then. I could have sworn you were asking for this.”

Gahyeon slid her hands up Yuna’s back, nails first, leaving white lines that quickly faded back into the approximation of porcelain that this new canvas was made of. Over and over again, Gahyeon reminded herself that Yuna was very pretty, and tried to use that to make herself forget the annoying parts. The fact that she was still thinking about them as she gripped Yuna’s tits didn’t bode well, but many three-plus-somes with Sua and Yoohyeon taught her the virtue of perseverance through annoying sex partners. Yuna was a very pretty canvas that needed to learn some manners.

In-depth lessons would come later though, after Gahyeon showed Yuna what her reward had the potential to be. “Well?”

Yuna's breaths got heavy as Gahyeon’s hands continued to wander, shifting between teasing touches and firm pressure. “I… I, um.”

"You want this?"

Yuna shook all over. She bit her lip and nodded.

Gahyeon breathed across Yuna’s ear, sending a deep shiver down her spine. “Tell me, then.”

“I d-don’t know what to say,” Yuna whined, groping blindly behind herself for Gahyeon’s arms.

Gahyeon pressed her chest against Yuna’s back and grabbed her hands, twirling their fingers together in a cruel, teasing dance. “Tell me where you want me to touch you, for starters.”

“It’s… hard to say.” Yuna arched her back, pushing her ass into Gahyeon’s hips. Her breath spiked over and over.

Gahyeon let her arms go mostly slack. “Then guide me there.”

With no small amount of hesitation, Yuna pulled Gahyeon’s hands tighter around herself and onto her ribs, moving them in a slow, jerking way down until they were between her legs. “Here.”

“I see. So you want me to touch your pussy? Your clit?”

Yuna whined even harder. She pushed insistently on Gahyeon’s limp fingers. “Both.”

“Both? That’s not how I phrased the question. It’s your pussy.” Gahyeon pressed one finger against Yuna’s entrance, earning a gasp. “Or your clit.” She pressed Yuna’s button with another finger, which all but made Yuna double over. Only then did Gahyeon wonder if she was technically providing incorrect information by distinguishing the body parts as separate.

“Oooh my g—My clit! Touch my clit…”

In a flash, Gahyeon took her hand back, licked her middle finger, and put it back, steadily swirling around Yuna’s clitoris. Yuna had to reach back and hang on to Gahyeon’s thighs to keep herself from falling. Her twitches, jerks, and shaky breathing were fun, and exactly what Gahyeon needed to get over her annoyance, at least for a while.

“I’m going to do the same thing with my tongue now, okay?”

Yuna shot up onto her hands. “Your t-tongue?”

Gahyeon circled Yuna’s clit with her finger, making her moan and tense up. She lowered her face so her mouth would be obscured, and the air from her every word would brush across Yuna’s pussy. “I might accidentally touch you with my lips too, if you’re okay with that. I promise I’ll be soft and gentle.”

“O-okay?”

Figuring that Yuna wouldn’t be giving her any more confident a response than that, Gahyeon leaned in further, gathering up extra spit as she went. She pressed the end of her tongue to Yuna’s clit, not hard, but somewhat firmly.

“O-oh," Yuna cooed and took a deep breath, "that’s pretty much just like your finge—”

Gahyeon swirled her tongue around Yuna’s hood, and the girl squirmed back and up out of range with a comically loud gasp. Gahyeon smiled internally. She knew what that was about. The shock of a good time could occasionally make one run away.

"Oh no," she said sarcastically, "You didn't like it. I'm sorry."

Yuna scrambled to get back in place, nearly kicking Gahyeon in the face. "No! I-I liked… please do it again?" There was desperation oozing out of her puppy dog eyes.

"Fine. Just be sure to tell me how you’re feeling, yeah?" She really wanted to hear Yuna try to describe being eaten out with her limited sexual vocabulary.

"I'll try…"

"Yes, just be as descriptive as you can, okay? I’ll adjust as needed."

Yuna nodded quickly. It was pretty clear that she just wanted Gahyeon to start again, so Gahyeon did, very, very, very slowly. She wet her tongue and barely touched it to Yuna's clit.

Again, Yuna flinched. This time Gahyeon was sure it was in anticipation. She looked up through the mild cleavage to give Yuna a reminder.

"Uh! Good! It felt good!"

Gahyeon touched again, but snaked her arms around Yuna’s legs to keep her in place. Another twitch, but smaller. Yuna was trying to contain herself. Gahyeon dragged her tongue slowly left and right. Trying to hold back wasn’t easy.

"It's… good."

Yuna's body language said much more than "good" though. She wanted more. Her eyes were fixed on Gahyeon. Her toes curled and uncurled against Gahyeon’s hips. Her knuckles were white, gripping the blanket. Her lungs shuddered with each brand new sensation that popped its way through her nerves. Goosebumps rose and fell and rose and rose and fell and rose. She had to be putting immense effort into holding still.

"Good."

Upping the ante, Gahyeon swirled again, catching the underside of Yuna's hood. Yuna twitched hard, and for a brief moment her eyes rolled up. Her breath was stuck, but it came unstuck with a second swirl, and exited Yuna's mouth in the form of a pained whimper. That was what Gahyeon was looking for.

"You like?"

"Good! It was so good! Please do it again!" Yuna’s inhibition was faltering.

"Tell me more." Gahyeon didn't pretend to hesitate again. She pressed her tongue under Yuna's hood and down against her clit, wiggling back and forth while keeping herself planted.

"Mmm! I… I don't know what to—OH! AUGH!”

Yuna’s last exclamation was a bit of a surprise, both to Gahyeon and Yuna herself, it seemed, as she quickly covered her mouth, eyes wide.

“Was that a good sound?” Gahyeon asked, already knowing the answer.

Yuna nodded.

“Uncover your mouth, then, and keep it up.”

There was some hesitation in how Yuna followed the instructions as Gahyeon got back to playing with her clit, but she did a little better than simply following. She grasped Gahyeon’s hands, alternated between hitched breaths and primal moans, and tucked her chin toward her chest. 

Every word Yuna tried to say morphed into one of those noises until she came. One long, vulgar scream faded into mewling whimpers.

Gahyeon crawled up Yuna’s body, pecking her along the way and giving her a much longer, wetter kiss on the mouth. Yuna giggled through it all, a little cum-drunk. “So,” Gahyeon said, “that’s one of the basics.”

“The b-basics?”

“Yeah.” Gahyeon twirled onto her back, slipping an arm beneath Yuna to pull her in close.

“Wow…” Yuna muttered.

The two basked in each other’s warmth for a while without a word. Gahyeon shifted a couple of times to try to optimize her comfort, but still mentally bemoaned Yuna’s lack of experience. She would not have minded a bit of reciprocation. A plan to pick up one or two of her usual subs on the way home began to formulate in her head. Jane would certainly be up for a bit of fun.

“Um, Gahyeon?”

Gahyeon stroked Yuna’s hair, around her ear, down her jaw, and to her chin. Yuna smiled and purred a little. Gahyeon returned that smile. “Hm?”

“Thank you for, um… not making fun of me.”

“Don’t thank me for that.” Gahyeon traced half of Yuna’s lower lip. “I made fun of you a little bit when we started. And quite a bit more later, I believe.”

Yuna cautiously placed a hand on Gahyeon’s breast, but got a little bolder and lightly squeezed when Gahyeon smiled. “I just mean most of the time.”

“I guess. I’ll keep in mind that you appreciate that.” Gahyeon giggled as Yuna nuzzled her stomach with her cheek. “Just be clear with people about what you do and don’t like, and you’ll have a… great time.”

Gahyeon’s last words were drawn out over the sound of a buzzing phone. Yuna’s, to be precise. She stretched to get it from the nightstand and saw “RAW” was calling.

“Raw?” Gahyeon asked.

Yuna reluctantly removed her hand from Gahyeon’s boob to take the phone. “That’s Ryujin… sorry. One sec.”

Though it was quiet, the lack of ambient noise made it easy for Gahyeon to hear Ryujin’s loud voice. “Where the hell are you, Yuna? We checked the bathroom.”

“I’m… upstairs.”

“Upstairs? The fuck are you doing upstairs for a whole hour?”

Yuna’s eyes traveled up and down Gahyeon’s body. “Cuddling?”

“Cuddling? For an hour? Yeah right.”

Huge puppy dog eyes met Gahyeon’s, trying to ask for permission. Gahyeon shrugged.

“Wel—”

“I’m cuddling with Gahyeon because we just had sex,” Yuna said, and then immediately snapped her mouth shut and stared into space.

“What?! No you didn’t, you fuckin baby child! You couldn’t handle her!”

Gahyeon watched for a few seconds as Yuna’s shoulders shrunk into her neck while Ryujin berated her.

“... and you’d come running back down the stairs crying—”

“Actually, Ryujin,” Gahyeon spoke loudly, “she’s not bad. You should let her practice on you sometime.”

Gahyeon swore she heard the sound of a pair of spit takes through the phone before it suddenly beeped twice and went silent. She decided not to wait too long for Yuna’s embarrassment to take over, and laid a hand on Yuna’s back. “Care to learn anything else today? If you want to prove what you can do to Ryujin and Yeji, you may need to do to them what I just did to you.”

Thankfully, Yuna’s blush didn’t get too far. “I-I don’t know if I can do any more right now.”

Gahyeon smiled. “As in it’s time to head out or you just want more snuggles?”

Yuna pushed herself up onto her hands and knees and crawled forward, kissing Gahyeon’s lips a few times in rapid succession. “If I say I have to go, can I have your number?”

Gahyeon ran her fingers through Yuna’s hair. “Sure… but the first thing you're going to text me is a safeword for next time.”

[fiveredlights]

Loved it!!!! Is there any Benjamin POV of when he found out Max and Daniel were drivers in this world? Like any thought process? It surprised me too that they weren't in his world haha. Thanks for sharing!

okay i managed 400 words of benjamin arriving in the universe and then my brain continued on its holiday in aruba so i’ve written out what would’ve happened afterwards

It's not like Benjamin expected there to be a whole parade when he landed into his DAUD universe, but a room full of people staring at him like he's an alien from another planet feels a little weird.

Technically, he is an alien from outer space—if you equate an alien to a life form, and the other planet is true, but at that point they should consider that we’re all aliens in a planet floating around the universe and there’s no need to stare at him like that.

Or really, they aren’t staring at him. They’re staring at the name emblazoned into his race suit. Or the flag. Maybe they’re struggling to understand why the Dutch and Australian flags are mashed together.

Benjamin worked really hard to get the team and the FIA to approve that. He had to do a whole presentation.

One of the people—his boss he assumes, given that he’s one of the two people to be wearing RB shirts—takes a slow step forward, adjusting the black rounded frames on his face.

“Benjamin—” Ooh, French, “—Ricciardo-Verstappen,” he states, though it’s really more like a question.

“Yeah.” He steps out of the portal tube. “Did I get sent to the wrong universe or?”

“Maybe,” someone in a Red Bull shirt quietly mutters and the other RB shirt guy hits him in the shoulder and scolds, “Christian.”

He has no idea who this Christian guy is but he knows he already doesn’t like him. Giving off bad energy, or whatever Julian uses as an excuse whenever he meets someone he doesn’t like.

“I’m Laurent Mekies, I’m your team principal,” the French—Laurent says. “Can we just confirm who your parents are?”

Everyone in the room seems to lean in and hold their breath. Benjamin thinks they’re all really weird. “Daniel Ricciardo and Max Verstappen. They live in Monaco, or well in my universe they live in Monaco, so maybe they’re in the Netherlands or Australia here.”

Laurent immediately spins onto his heels and they all form some sort of emotional support huddle, like they’re the ones who got sent through to another universe.

“I’ll get Max,” Christian sighs and points a finger at Laurent. “You’re calling Daniel.”

Laurent tenses. “I don’t want to call Daniel. Why can’t you call Daniel? You knew him longer?��

Christian goes very quiet. “I think he’s blocked my number,” he says with no room for further questions as he walks out of the room.

—

benjamin has found a wheely chair to spin around the room in whilst laurent peter and helmut (idk if he's here) debate on who is calling daniel, benjamin's like "I can call Daniel if you don't want to break the news," and frankly it's a bit concerning how three of these very grown men look very ready to take this offer.

eventually someone is like, you know what. we'll get MAX to call him. daniel will answer max's calls and they leave benjamin in the room with laurent whilst the rest of them look in the mirror and wonder what they need to do to atone for this hell-ish situation they've been placed in.

(there is no atonement possible. you must live in the decisions you made. no amount of apologies or prayers will be able to heal the deep, deep scars you have given. zero love and zero light will be given.)

“So Max works here or?” benjamin asks, if only to make small talk so they’re not sitting in silence. laurent takes a very long look, he's confused. he tells him that of course Max works here, he's a driver?? but reigns it in because maybe benjamin was asking if max was at some different RBR factory. or maybe he's asking because he thinks max is in monaco, laurent doesn't possess the brain cells needed right now.

benjamin is thinking oh maybe max's a sim driver. or a test driver. he knows that max's father was a f1 driver, but doesn't really know much else. nowhere in benjamin's brain is the thought that max is a formula 1 driver, and certainly nowhere in benjamin's brain is the thought that he's a 4x WDC.

max walks in, looks at benjamin. benjamin looks back. max walks out.

he walks in again. looks at benjamin again. walks out again.

he walks in again. is about to walk out when benjamin's like, "You know walking out for the third time doesn't activate me being sent back to my universe?"

(internally, max is like, oh my god. he talks exactly like daniel. i'm looking at another daniel. which you know. a little bit insane given that i wrote benjamin to look like max, and benjamin wouldn't really sound like daniel accent wise at least, given that they raised the kids in monaco, but you know. maybe the speech patterns are similar, who the fuck knows. easier to see the parts of the person you love than yourself in your kid. can't blame him, daniel did the exact same thing for like the whole fic.)

max immediately looks around at the whole group of people and does a head nod for benjamin to follow him into his office, and it’s probably not until he sees the replica WDC trophy sitting on a bookcase with max’s name inscribed on it benjamin’s like what the fuck…

in his head benjamin is like, i am hiding the fact that i am shocked about max being a driver so well. he’s not. he’s kinda just staring at the trophy but max is way too distracted about the fact that alternate him had a kid (emphasis on kid, singular) with daniel.

benjamin is stalking around the room looking at EVERYTHING, and he catches the photo of max and daniel in malaysia 2016 and is even more like what the fuck… BOTH of my parents are drivers?????

first thought: they’re both horrible normal road car drivers. maybe it makes sense now.

second thought: god it’s so cool that his parents (or this version of his parents) are formula 1 drivers. that’s like so arguably cool. suck it julian, he KNEW doing the DAUD program was a good thing. 

third thought: do they know sebastian vettel.

in this moment he has decided that this max and daniel cannot know that his max and daniel aren’t drivers. he kinda suspects that max might be going through a quick existential crisis and he’s not making it bigger by telling 4x WDC max that his max is a 0x WDC and has never driven a f1 car in his life. 

(also it has not crossed his mind that this max and daniel are not together. if you saw that photo of malaysia with max looking at daniel doing the shoey like he wants to jump his bones in public, yeah i wouldn’t question it either and end that line of thought immediately.)

i’m learning very quickly that benjamin processes things so quickly that he doesn’t really have time to freak out.

max is processing everything and benjamin is like “are you gonna call dad or?? where is he??”

max: dad?

benjamin: yeah. dad. daniel. this tall. your husband. or partner idk i don’t know, i’m not gonna assume. oh god are you guys broken up here please don’t tell me that. i mean like tell me, but like that’s so weird.

max kinda looks embarrassed and benjamin clocks him so quickly. 

benjamin: oh. you two aren’t together here. you two have never been together here.

max: … yeah

benjamin is immediately like fuck everything about them being drivers what do you MEAN they aren’t together???? he looks at the malaysia photo again. looks at max again. 

benjamin then decided his only goal is to parent trap his parents. which i think he did achieve. good job dude.

[denpa-dere]

prompt 10 for luci!!!

Prompt: “What part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?” with Lucifer

Warnings: Alcohol/Drinking

___

Okay, so, maybe you two had formed the bad habit of egging each other on. Not that he'd ever admit to letting anyone, let alone some little human, get under his skin and sway his judgment. No. He was Lucifer, first-born of the seven lords of hell and Avatar of Pride. As the prince's right hand, he had an image to uphold, always. 

But between you and the prince's foolish encouragement, he was drunk.

The evening had gotten away from the lot of you, having fun and drinking on Lord Diavolo's dime in celebration of another RAD project successfully brought to completion. As the night drew on and the crowd thinned, some of the other demon brothers with weaker constitutions trickled out of the upscale bar, heading for home. You waved off Beel (saddled with an unconscious Belphie) when he offered to walk you back to the House of Lamentation. You could handle yourself, you reassured him. 

Besides, it was rare to see Lucifer in such fine form: disheveled, face flushed, laughing raucously. He slouched over the bar, covering his face with one hand, trying to compose himself, and it was so- for lack of a better word- human that it made your heart swell. 

You excused yourself for a quick trip to the restroom, wanting to collect yourself before seeing what else the night had in store. Fairly drunk yourself, you started to psych yourself up. Yes, obviously between Diavolo and Barbatos, Lucifer would get home safely no matter what state he was in. But you wanted to be the one to take him home. The thought of speaking alone with a more loose-lipped, candid version of him excited you a little too much. 

You caught your reflection in the mirror and paused, dismayed. Maybe it was the harsh bathroom lighting, but you looked tired, older than your years. A cold weight settled in your stomach. You adjusted your hair and tried to shake off your sudden burst of insecurity. You were thinking too hard. 

You had been gone for just a moment, but returned to find your seat at the bar taken by a beautiful demon. Even after all this time, the natural beauty of most demons still sometimes stunned you. The demon leaned in close, speaking to a very animated Lucifer and laughing coquettishly as he described something you couldn’t quite hear. You felt the air punched out of your lungs and numbly made your way over to gather your things. 

"Hey, it's getting late, I'm going to head back," You said, throat dry but still smiling. Only Barbatos seemed to hear you. You bid him farewell and made your escape. 

You felt stupid. How arrogant were you, anyway? You may be friends, you may live under the same roof, but you were still just you. 

You heard your name called and turned, squinting in the darkness. It didn't take long for Lucifer to catch up with you. 

"Why didn't you say you were leaving? You shouldn't be walking alone this late," He scolded you. 

"I did," You replied with a thin-lipped smile, "You were busy."

He racked his brain for a moment and then chuckled, "Ah, that. I swear, I can never find a moment's peace."

“You seemed like you were having a good time,” You mused, continuing your walk home, “You should have stayed.”

You obliged, letting him turn you to face him. Maybe it was the alcohol, but tears were beginning to prick the corners of your eyes. He regarded you with an expression you couldn’t quite place- pity? That was your uncharitable interpretation, anyway.

“What do you mean by that?” He asked, sounding somewhat offended, “Do you have better things to do than stand to be in my company?”

You clicked your tongue. Of course he would go there.

“No, Lucifer,” You sighed, feeling too raw to argue, “That’s not… I didn’t want to intrude if you were, you know, feeling a connection or something.”

Awkward and ineloquent. Nice. You could feel him staring into the side of your head but refused to look up. Your face burned. This wasn’t going how you had hoped. You sped up a bit, wanting to be home and done with it, already. You could sleep it off and pretend this didn’t happen, that he didn’t just see how transparently you were wounded.

Lucifer blatantly bit back a laugh and you bristled at his condescension. Whatever you thought was between the two of you had never been spoken aloud. It now laid vulnerable and dangling in front of your face, and he was laughing at you. Perhaps wishful thinking had caused you to misinterpret things. That cold weight in your stomach grew heavier.

“Is that- are you jealous?” He asked, incredulous. You didn’t reply, keeping your gaze straight ahead. His eyes widened.

“You are,” He said, reaching for your hand but catching the sleeve of your coat, “Stop, stop, stop.”

“You forget yourself,” He said, a bit more sober than before, “And our pact. You are mine, does that mean nothing to you?”

Fuck, now you were crying. This pressure was too much, the dam was about to burst.

“It means everything to me,” You choked out.

He took both of your freezing hands in his, “I have been around for a very long time,” He said, as if soothing a child, “You are the only human I have ever made a pact with. The only one I have ever trusted with that sort of power-”

You huffed, “I’m not talking about pacts.”

“I know that,” Lucifer said, silently pleading you would not have him elaborate. Not here, in some cold, dingy street. Not now, too drunk to give you the confession you deserved, “But what part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?”

[alfpage85]

Jay's Nightmare a Hello Neighbor Short

By Roy Roth

It was a long and stressful day for Jay Roth, who had a bad day at work, unlike his wife Luanne.

Jay looks in the mirror with a bizarre expression.

Jay: "i gotta tell you this launne, this job isn't paying me well, and all this stress is getting to me."

Luanne: "Oh, honey dear, it's just stress. All you need is a bit of relaxation and sleep, of course."

Jay’s POV: The mirror in front of him cracks slightly as if in response.

Jay: "A bit of that for one or two weeks is enough for me."

Jay dives into bed, pulling the covers over himself.

Luanne: "Good night, honey." Luanne turns off the light next to her.

Jay: "Sweet dreams, launne." Jay also turns off the light on his side.

Jay kisses Luanne on the cheek before going to sleep.

??? (Female): "Eww, I think I’ve been kissed by a J**"

Jay: "What?"

Leslie: "Hey, is this our bed, or are we in the wrong room?"

Jay: "Huh?"

Gordon: "Does anyone have a Golden Apple coin with them?"

???: "I do."

Jay: "Now what in-"

Suddenly, random people appear in bed with them.

Random People: "HII!"

Jay: "Luanne, there are strangers in our bed!"

Luanne: "What are you people doing here."

*Door knocking.*

Jay: "Now what?"

Jay opens the door, and a random couple walks in.

Ellen: "This motel isn't so bad right kids."

Shaun and michael: "Yep."

Martin: "It might not be bad but the state where are in is so bad."

Jay: "What the—"

*Door knocking.*

Emily: "Tip him."

Henry: "yes honey. Here ya go."

Jay: "Umm, excuse me, this isn't a—"

*Door knocking.*

More and more random people enter the room.

DoorDash Guy: "Order's here."

Jay: "I didn't order anything—hey, wait!"

Jay shuts the door loudly, getting everyone’s attention.

Jay: "People! People! What and why is everybody in our house? And who told all of you that our house is a motel?."

As Jay tried to make sense of the chaos around him, he heard rustling from under the blankets. To his surprise, his college friend, Miguel Esposito, emerged, looking sheepish.

Miguel: "Hey, Jay. Uh... so, funny story—I think I messed up."

Jay: "Miguel What Now."

Miguel: "So, I accidentally gave the wrong location for the motel I own. Instead of people going there, they ended up here."

Jay: "What?! How does that even happen?"

Miguel: "I mixed up the GPS coordinates, and now everyone thinks this is the motel. They’ve been coming here all night."

Jay stares at Miguel in disbelief as more people wander through the house, some even helping themselves to snacks in the kitchen.

Jay: "Miguel, you can’t just use my house as a motel!"

Miguel: "Come on, Jay, it’s just for one night. I’ll fix it in the morning, I swear!"

Miguel gives a nervous laugh, but Jay's stern expression doesn't waver.

Jay: "My house is not for sale."

Miguel: "Well, of course not, but it is for rent."

Everyone burst into laughter, filling the room with noise.

Miguel: "I’ve got all my staff outside waiting for orders. Say, does anyone want some snacks or drinks?"

Crowd: "We do!"

As one of Miguel’s staff members opened the bedroom door, the roomful of people spilled out, tumbling onto the floor. Jay found himself buried under the pile of bodies.

Jay: "Luanne, honey, help! I need to move, Luanne, I—"

Suddenly, Jay jolted awake, gasping for breath.

Jay: "Oh, good God. Luanne, I just had the craziest dream ever. Our house was being rented out—can you imagine that?"

Jay turned around to see Luanne, his heart nearly stopped. Everyone from his dream was still there, crowded in the room.

Miguel: "Oops That wasn’t just a dream, you know, pal."

Jay: "Aaaaaahhhhhh!"

In a panic, Jay bolted out of the room, dashed outside, and jumped into his car. Without looking back, he sped off down the street.

Back inside, Maritza watched through the window, confused.

Maritza: "What’s wrong with your dad?"

Nicky: "I have no idea."