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moonchildstyles · 2 days

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bardot

y/n is an aspiring model, and harry just might be the person that could help her

wordcount: 12.5k+

this is a patreon exclusive, with every part after this one only available on my page!

—————

A chill touched the base of (Y/N)'s spine as she padded over the cracked tiles lining her kitchen floor. It was enough of a disturbance to cause a pinch in her brows, though she still couldn't manage to peel her eyes open more than a crack. If not for the fact that she had to run a couple of errands before her shift tonight, she wouldn't even be awake at the moment.

Working through that fatigue, she rubbed her eyes as she reached for the box of Cheerios on the top of her fridge. Her movements were lethargic as she made her breakfast, taking her time as she attempted to wake up despite the late night she'd had, closing the restaurant. Before sitting down with her cereal, she made a point to draw open her curtains, allowing bright beams of sunlight to filter through her apartment, a tactic she opened would wake her up.

Feeling the warmth on her skin, her tired eyes fluttering against the bright light, it was all something she was still getting used to. The California sun was still so novel to her compared to the weather she'd grown up with back home. Though she missed the multitude of sweaters she'd left behind at her parents' home, she would trade those knits to get this kind of sunlight any day.

(Y/N) pulled in a deep breath, imagining the specks of sunlight bumbling through her lungs. It didn't feel so bad then to sit down with her breakfast, a selection of new, glossy magazines sitting in the middle of her coffee table—a gift from herself after getting through her shift the night before.

Spooning a bite to her mouth, she picked up the first magazine with VOGUE stamped across the top. The cover held a glimmering photograph of a woman draped in a brightly colored dress, her hair teased high, and the kind of makeup (Y/N) had attempted to achieve in her bathroom mirror—though it never turned out as clean. The headlines had printings about the best summer pieces to have to get that "California Style", along with spreads about the new "Paris Chic" and the best eye makeup for your eye color.

This was her morning news. Everything she wanted to know was between the glossy pages, every photograph a part of her morning routine. Flicking through, (Y/N) admired the models printed on the pages, each of them exceptionally beautiful and holding a kind of poise she wondered also ran through their real lives.

Did Jean Shrimpton always look that perfect? Was Donyale Luna even able to leave the house without someone stopping her for just a momentary look at her cheekbones? Did any of these women ever admire themselves on the page the way (Y/N) did?

Though she skimmed the articles as she went, she no doubt had eyes for the photos themselves. If she squinted hard enough, she could almost see herself instead of the leggy body on the page.

After finishing off her cereal, she flipped the page just as she began to rise to tow her dishes to the sink, though the ad on page had her lagging for just a moment.

Corseted into an hourglass shape, complete with a puffy bunny tail and a set of ears on her head, was a woman with blonde hair teased high holding a silver serving tray. Black stockings molded around her legs, showing off the curves like the smile on her lips. Beneath her was a bold black font, detailing the opening of a new club in Los Angeles.

Playboy.

(Y/N) was familiar with the branding and the general idea behind the company, but it wasn't something she gave more than a passing thought most of the time. It was never something that really appealed to her, piquing nothing more than her curiosity over how many models—well known and hidden, alike—had been able to feel that kind of confidence to be able to pose the way they did. While she'd never seen anything for herself, there was always the talk about the centerfolds of the magazines, and what exactly was sandwiched between the pages.

It was definitely a departure from the kinds of modeling she had pictured for herself when she made the move out to the west coast in the first place, but she wondered, while looking at the corseted woman, what it could feel like to be in that spot. Would the confidence come naturally? Would the perfect posture and the perfect smile come on instinct, or were those women directed and directed until they were what the men around her told her would sell?

She couldn't be sure, the idea being too much for her to figure out since she hadn't even been on a set herself yet. She didn't know what it would be like to have a real photographer put their camera in her face normally, let alone with only the smallest amount of clothing on her body.

Casting one more glance at the page, she rose from her spot on the couch to take her dishes to the sink. With the corseted woman out of sight and out of mind, (Y/N) was instead distracted by the calendar pinned to the wall beside her sink. Today's slot was marked with all of the day's errands as well as her shift time, though she was distracted by the following day.

There wasn't anything particularly special marking the space, but it would commemorate the six month anniversary of her official move to California.

If she thought too hard about it, she would focus on the lack of auditions she'd been on after the move, the zero number of scouts that had seen her on the street and begged her to join their agency, the amount of times she wondered if she had actually made the right decision when she asked her parents to help her pack up and move across the country.

Instead, she reminded herself of the same thing she always did when all of the change had become overwhelming: just because it hasn't happened for her yet, doesn't mean it never will.

She was an optimist at heart, and she would continue to be optimistic about her future in this city. One day she would be plastered on a billboard, or showcasing a new Maybelline mascara with her eyes fluttering in a commercial. She could even find her way to Vogue someday.

For all she knew, today could be the start of her big break.

—————

"Thank you for covering, Gabby!"

As soon as (Y/N) stepped out into the makeshift break room in the alley behind the restaurant for her lunch break, the bubbly smile on her lips fell. Closing shifts always took the breath out of her, especially during the dinner rush on Friday nights like this.

These thirty minutes away, hiding in the back alley at one of the small tables set up in lieu of a proper break room, was precious to her. Despite just how loud the restaurant was, the sound overspilling into the alley, the space was just removed enough to help her brain quiet down for the time being. As much as (Y/N) loved the way her body looked and the way her legs seemed to stretch on for miles when she slipped on high heels, there would never be anything that could rival the relieved feeling that came with slipping them off for even just a few minutes during this time away.

Leaving her feet only loosely in her shoes, she didn't waste any more of her break time, pulling out her packed sandwich and the bottle of apple juice she brought for her dinner. She had tucked a small magazine into her purse, but the thought of adding anything extra to her head at the moment wasn't appealing. Instead, she listened to the overflow of conversation from the server's station just by the swinging door of the alley as if it were a program from her television set.

Just as usual, she heard some of her coworkers debating over if there were any familiar faces seated in the dining room for the night. It wasn't unusual for famous patrons to take a seat for dinner with them, though (Y/N) highly doubted Elizabeth Taylor was currently at the bar, but the debate of whether or not one of the waiters should approach her and ask if he could be in her next movie (or next husband) was enough to bring a smile to her face between her bites of dinner.

By the time she emptied her bottle of apple juice and had her lunch reduced to a few crumbs, the server's station had been cleared out with the only noise of the kitchen filtering out to the alley and keeping her comfortable. Just as she moved to pack everything away, her ears perked at the sound of quick footsteps heading outside to join her. Peering over her shoulder, (Y/N) just caught the way Misty, one of the hostesses she was closer with, all but barreled out onto the pavement.

It didn't take very long to spot the difference in Misty's demeanor with the way she didn't seem to notice (Y/N) was out there at all, instead immediately beginning to pace before the door with her heels clicking over the pavement. There must have been a conversation going on in her head with the way she flapped her hands before her like a talk show host, and the silent muttering of her lips. As far as (Y/N) knew, Misty's break wasn't scheduled for another hour, even.

"Mist?" (Y/N) prodded in a gentle voice, "Is everything okay?"

Stopping in her tracks with a stutter to her steps, Misty looked to her with wide brown eyes and a hand to her throat. "Oh my god, you scared me."

"Sorry," (Y/N) offered with a cautious smile, "Are you okay? You seem really freaked."

"Yeah," Misty said, though she was less than convincing with her response, "Did you see my sister came in?"

(Y/N) nodded, looking up at her friend from where she sat at the wobbly wrought iron table. "Is she okay?"

Misty's shaken demeanor shifted then as she rolled her eyes, heaving a big sigh. "She's fine," she started, irritated, "just stupid. We were supposed to go to this party tomorrow night in the hills, but she's bailing on me so she can meet up with her ex. They're going to 'work it out', apparently."

"Wait, the one that cheated with your cousin?" (Y/N)'s brows furrowed, with her mouth dropping into a gape. It couldn't be that ex, right?

"That's the one," Misty chirped, also less than impressed with her sister's choosing, "I know, she's being an idiot but not even my mom was able to talk her out of it. But, she was going to be my ride tomorrow, and go with me so I wasn't alone."

(Y/N)'s face fell when she heard how dejected Misty sounded. While she didn't know much about this party in "the hills", she was sure that hearing about her sister's reconciliation with a terrible ex—and that she would rather hang out with a cheater than Misty herself—was more than enough to get her down.

"I'm sorry, Mist," (Y/N) said, her eyes softening with her lips falling into a pout, "It's not fair to leave you hanging like that."

Settling some, Misty took the chair across from (Y/N) offering a small smile. "It's okay," she shrugged, "It's just frustrating. She knows this party is important to me, but she's going to go see some guy that cheated on her, instead."

"That sucks," (Y/N) interjected, sure her friend wasn't looking for a solution more than she wanted to vent at the moment, "Is it a birthday party, or?"

Misty shook her head, her long black hair wisping over her shoulder, "It's an industry party. One of my friend's has an older sister who works across the street from this office that has a bunch of these music people. Apparently there's a big party happening tomorrow night at some executive's house, and she was able to get me and my sister an invite, but now I don't know if I'm even going to be able to make it there."

(Y/N)'s lips thinned, her eyes falling to the latticed surface of the table where she fiddled with the strap of her purse. An idea pinged through her head, though she was more than unsure of voicing it.

She'd never been to an industry party before, but there was a first time for everything—especially if it meant she could help her friend. If she was lucky, there might be even a few people she could get to know, other models or someone that could help in her own dreams.

"I—" she started, catching her tongue when she was unsure of her next words. Flicking her eyes up to Misty, where it was clear on her face just how hard she was thinking about whatever plan she could conjure for the next twenty-four hours, (Y/N) tried again. "Okay—um—stop me if I'm doing too much, but I... If you want, I could go with you? Just so you wouldn't be alone, and I could drive you up, and everything. I don't want you to miss this if you think you'll be able to meet someone that could help you with your singing, but don't feel like you have to take me. If you can't find anyone else, just know I'm willing."

Feeling herself rambling, (Y/N) forced herself to zip her lips in favor of watching for Misty's reaction.

"Wait, really?" Misty said, a bubbling lilt to her voice, "You'd drive and everything, even though it's kind of far away? You don't, like, work tomorrow or anything?"

Her rapid fire questions did little to hide the light that sparkled in her eyes and the smile that crept on her lips. (Y/N) only shrugged, feeling herself light up. "I work tomorrow night, but I should be home with enough time to get ready as long as we don't have to be there too early."

The giggling squeal that left Misty's lips had (Y/N) letting out her own laugh just before her friend reached for her hands across the table. "(Y/N)! Thank you so much—I would love to have you come with me! We're going to have so much fun, thank you!"

(Y/N) felt herself perking up, matching Misty's energy as she squeezed her hands. "I'm so excited, thank you," she bubbled.

The dejection she came out with had melted away leaving room for her to be back to her bubbling, loud self that ran the front of the restaurant. "No, no, thank you! Really, there's going to be so many people there—important people—this could be really good for us. And now, we both get to go!"

Despite feeling a little nervous, accepting an invite to a place she'd never been before along with the host being someone she had no real connection to, (Y/N) couldn't help but to feel a warmth in her stomach over the kind of luck she'd stumbled into tonight. While she was sure there was going to be majority of people from the music world in attendance—people who were going to be important to Misty and her dreams of having a singing career—there has to be at least a couple of people who knew someone who could help her encroach on her own modeling aspirations.

The remainder of her lunch time (as well as Misty's impromptu break from her hostess duties) was spent ironing out the details of the next day. A to-do list came together in (Y/N)'s head, starting with raiding her closet as soon as she made it back to her apartment tonight, hoping she could find something in the back of the racks that might be suitable for the kind of party Misty was describing to her. She couldn't wait to force a map into Misty's hands to navigate them to the hills she kept mentioning.

"I heard there might be valet there, but I don't know if that's true or just something Angelica—"

"(Y/N), do you know where Mist—Oh, there you are," Marcus, one of the waiters, said, popping his head out into the alley, "I know you took a fifteen, but we need your help."

Misty deflated at the request of her presence, a pout itching to settle on her lips. "I'll be up in a second."

"Okay. Molly's drowning right now, though, so be fast."

Before he could catch the roll of Misty's eyes, Marcus disappeared back into the bustling restaurant.

Turning to (Y/N), Misty started for the door, standing from her spot across from her friend. "I'll call you tomorrow, okay? We'll figure out what we're wearing, and I'll tell you the exact address when I get the note back from my sister."

"Okay," (Y/N) smiled, eyes following her friend as she approached the door, "Thank you again, Misty—I'm really excited."

She paused in the doorway, one foot inside the restaurant with the other in the alley. "Me too. See you in there."

With a wave, Misty slipped inside the restaurant leaving (Y/N) with a remaining five minutes alone.

She quietly packed up with a smile on her face. By the time she slipped her feet back into her heels, the pain in her arches didn't feel so bad.

For all she knew, tomorrow night could be the start of her big break.

—————

The waning summer sunlight reflected off the silver sequins decorating (Y/N)'s dress as she drove to Misty's. With the open back of the garment, the cool leather of the seat pressed into her back. The feeling had her hearkening back to the last few times she'd worn this dress, to a handful of auditions she went on before realizing that agencies didn't really want to see a cocktail dress on a potential employee at ten a.m. The patent white leather of her thigh high boots squeaked as she shifted in her spot, her eyes peering through the windshield at each passing street sign marking the unfamiliar neighbourhood.

Coming to a slow stop at the curb, (Y/N) checked the map she had splayed on the passenger seat and the note with Misty's address half a dozen times, comparing it to the powder blue house she pulled up in front of. Hopefully, she'd made it to the right house.

Putting the car in park, fluffing her hair one more time, (Y/N) stepped out onto the warm pavement. The sunset reflected pink across the silver of her dress, warming her skin as if she were under the flashes of dozens of cameras.

Scaling the driveway to Misty's home, she had her eyes on the door, catching the way the knob spun before (Y/N) even made it to the porch. Misty waved to someone behind her, the length of her hair swishing at her waist as she spun around to face (Y/N) with a bright smile. A rich red dress hugged her figure, the halter top neckline framing the slide of her neck and the cut towards her cleavage. Her heels clicked with every step she took over the concrete towards (Y/N), glimmering makeup sparking on her eyelids.

Misty forged ahead, pulling (Y/N) in for a giddy hug that had her wobbly in her boots. "Hi! How are you? Are you excited? You look so pretty!"

(Y/N) laughed at the onslaught of questions, falling in line with Misty as she headed towards the car parked at the curb. "I'm good—excited! You look really pretty, too, thank you! I've never seen your hair down like this."

To make a show of it, she flipped a hand through her hair with a smile on her lips. "Tonight could be the night, (Y/N)—had to pull out all the stops."

Laughing, she followed after Misty as she started towards the car. Misty's confidence was contagious, enough to spread to (Y/N) as she settled in behind the wheel, sliding a pair of sunglasses on the line of her nose.

As they drove towards the hills, a map splayed out in Misty's lap, they had the windows cranked down with the radio up. (Y/N) couldn't help but to sing along with the selection going through her speakers, ranging from the croons from The Zombies to belting tones from The Supremes.

She was going to a party in the Hollywood Hills! A party where, if she's lucky enough, she could end up on the billboards they were driving past. Even if that didn't happen, she would still be fulfilling a part of her dream when she moved out here in the first place—getting to see places she'd only ever seen in movies or on the glossy pages of her magazines.

"What do you think it's going to be like?" (Y/N) asked, shouting over the whipping wind and beats from James Brown.

"Hm?" Misty hummed, looking back from where she had been gazing out the window, "The party?"

"Yeah. You said there'll be lots of music kinds of people, right? Do you think we'll see anyone we know?"

Misty shrugged, a beaming smile. "Maybe—hopefully! Angelica called me this morning and said there's supposed to be a lot of executives, so I don't know if we'll see any singers, but we'll meet the people who made the singers! How exciting is that?!"

(Y/N), even through fleeting glances, could spot the excitement in Misty's gaze. While modeling (maybe even movies, if she was lucky enough) was (Y/N)'s dream, she was more than okay with being there for Misty as they rubbed elbows with the people that made possible all the music they were listening to now.

In between giving directions, Misty happily chattered away about all of the different hopes she had for the soiree. Outside, the sun sunk low in the sky before disappearing by the time they entered the hills. The world around them changed from the lengths of highway to the beachy suburbs of the coast, all the way until the Hollywood Hills surrounded them. With the windows up and the radio ticked down just enough, both she and Misty left their attention to the gorgeous homes that now popped up around them like clean white roses. Everything was made of strategic, precise lines, creamy and bright against all of the greenery planted around them. Cars she'd only seen in movies were parked outside the garages, painted in pale colors with chrome accents that gleamed under the waning light.

The sight reminded her of the Saturday morning episodes of the Jetsons she used to catch back at home as a girl. Seeing nothing more than the structures, she felt as if she were already meeting a handful of celebrities.

After a final set of directions muttered off by Misty, (Y/N) turned onto a long stretching street. Before, while the houses were modern and clean, these were nothing short of extravagant. They were much further spaced out, gates planted before the driveways with plenty of greenery to help give even more privacy to whoever lived behind the walls.

"It should be on the left, I think," Misty muttered, her own gaze glossed out as she took in the homes around them.

(Y/N) silently nodded her head, pushing her sunglasses to sit on the top of her head. Peering to the left, she didn't have to peek at the numbers posted on the gates to know what home was where the party was being hosted. It was the only building with bright lights peeking through the greenery, reflecting through the darkening sky. While the rest of the street seemed to be luxuriating in quiet privacy, this one was beaconing those around them to come closer.

"This one?" (Y/N) asked, slowing as they approached the open driveway.

"This one," Misty smiled, giddy in her seat.

Turning in, (Y/N) found the biggest mansion she could have imagined to be shrouded behind the palms and draping vines planted along the perimeter. It was just as pristine as the others they'd seen before, new and perfect, but on a scale she couldn't imagine knowing what to do with. A dome thatched in glimmering bronze bisected the mansion, a large window cut out on what had to be the third floor of the home, showcasing a crystalline chandelier for all to see. Creamy lines made out the rest of the structure, cookie-cutter windows giving glimpses into the spaces inside. More greenery made its way closer to the structure in the form of pruned hedges, climbing flower bushes, and postcard perfect palm trees.

The rumor of there being valet at this soiree had turned out to be complete truth as (Y/N) drove further up the drive. Her hands grew clammy around the wheel.

"What do I do?" she rushed out to Misty, taking her foot off the gas to buy herself time.

"What do you mean? What?" Misty answered, knocked out of her own admiration of the space.

"The valet," (Y/N) said, slightly panicked, "Are they actually going to take the car?"

Misty seemed to finally notice the man clad in a simple black outfit stationed at the front dome, bored as he peered at the slowly approaching car on the drive. "Oh. I don't know. Do you keep the car on or just give them the keys?"

"I don't know," (Y/N) parroted, words bubbling off as she ran out of time the closer they drew to the dome, "I've never done this before!"

Before either of them had a chance to attempt to thread together a game plan, (Y/N) heavily stepped on the brake, stopping them at the front door. The valet made no move to greet them, standing at his station with a pleasant expression on his face as he waited. With clumsy movements, (Y/N) pulls her keys out of the ignition, and plucked her purse from beside her feet. Misty followed with the same amount of haste, both of them practically stumbling out of the car towards the waiting valet that looked on with surprise raising his brows.

"Hi," (Y/N) greeted, just barely remembering the sunglasses pinning her hair back on her head. She snatched them off, tucking them into her purse.

"Good evening, ladies," the valet responded, taking in their stumble, "How are you?"

"We're alright, thank you," Misty piped up, peering around the valet to get a peek into the home behind him, "And yourself?"

"I'm doing swell myself, thank you," he beamed, holding a hand out expectantly towards (Y/N), "How do you know the host?"

While he had a pleasant smile on his face as he took her keys, (Y/N) was sure he was well aware of how little they fit in within this space. She couldn't blame him for assuming there was a chance they weren't supposed to be here, if their stumbling and her less than trendy car was anything to go by.

"We work with him," Misty piped up, clearly preferring to bypass the roundabout way that she knew the host through three different people.

"Oh, yeah?" he prodded, brows bouncing above his eyes, "At the office or the studio?"

"The office," Misty clarified without a second thought.

The valet took her answer with a slow nod, palming (Y/N)'s keys before asking for her name and bidding them a good night once they were on the list. With that, he left the double doors behind him unattended. Misty grabbed (Y/N)'s hand who stumbled into step beside her, her gaze shot over her shoulder to watch as the valet took in the vast difference between her car and the others he'd already attended to throughout the night.

Pushing through the double doors, (Y/N)'s expectations for the inside of this mansion were blown out of the water. One of a kind art canvases were hung up on the walls, beautifully crafted vases and sculptures displayed through the halls, along with the extravagant chandelier hanging above their heads. This place felt straight out of a movie, perfect like a Normal Rockwell painting.

The deeper Misty walked them through the space, she took in the overflow of guests spread throughout the home. She'd never seen so many different sitting rooms, with so many different people. In the main space just off from the foyer was cleared out, leaving space for a bar being professionally tended and room for plenty of young women to dance along to the records spinning on the player with drinks in hand. Too many older men were placed along the perimeter doing nothing more than watching them.

"Um," Misty started, voice raised high enough to be heard over the different radios and gramophones playing, "I'm going to try to find my friend and her sister, and the host, but you don't have to come with me if you want to get a drink."

(Y/N) didn't have to think before she steeled her grip on Misty's hand. There was no way Misty was going to be able to lose her that quickly. "No, I'll go with you."

"Are you sure?" Misty asked, bouncing her brows above her eyes.

(Y/N) gave a nod, shooting her friend a look with a glance towards the men prowling around the young women. Misty seemed to catch her drift then, more than alright with (Y/N) tagging along.

While Misty was on the lookout for familiar faces, (Y/N) was happily pulled along with her curious gaze spread out to every branching hallway and living area. While the room with the women dancing around was the life of the soiree, there were other areas that looked as if they were board meetings plucked right out of the city complete with men dressed in suits, lounging with cigars in smoky rooms. Trays with food were being passed about in the hands of staff dressed in similar all black outfits as the valet out front.

She barely had a chance to settle her eyes on a single person or scene before something just as bright and bold called her attention away. Misty surged forward with their hands still clasped until they reached the glass door leading to the backyard.

If she had thought the inside of the mansion was wild, not even the drunken bar room had anything on the backyard.

With a shimmering pool setting the scene, there seemed to be a rule that only the prettiest of attendees were allowed in the grassy space. It only took a pair of steps out onto the patio for (Y/N) to feel like she had never actually seen Los Angeles before this moment. Her mouth was set agape as Misty dragged her along, heading towards a grouping of men (Y/N) barely glanced at when there was so much else around to steal attention.

A bar was stationed outside as well, though it looked much less professional than what was inside. Whoever wanted a drink was free to grab whatever, including the whole bottle if they so choose, with no one to bat an eye. More than a few people floated about the pool, some fully clothed while others were covered with only the help of the refractions glowing through the water. Drunken conversations were held between those about the lip of the pool, some wobbling close to the edge though they only laughed when the stumbles occurred.

Everything appeared entirely too glamorous to be real. The women's hair was too perfect, the men too picturesque. This was what shindigs in the Hills were like?

Suddenly Misty's voice piped up, having taken the straight to the grouping of businessmen she had eyed as soon as they made it out the door. "Hi! Mr. Vitacoma?"

Facing forward, (Y/N) watched as a tall man with broad shoulders turned around to face Misty, brows in a pinch. "That's me," he started, eyes visibly brightening when he took in who exactly it was that had approached him, "How can I help you?"

Misty's bright voice became a mumble as she introduced herself, and thanked this man for hosting the party. A conversation started, Mr. Vitacoma asking how exactly they were connected and how she'd found herself at his soiree. From what she was collecting, this man was some kind of executive at a record label, tonight's party being a "just because" occasion, and of course, he was so happy to have such a beautiful woman like Misty in attendance.

(Y/N) was vaguely aware of Misty's voice pattering on with confidence, though her attention was stitched elsewhere. The men around Mr. Vitacoma had gone quiet, impressed with Misty's gall to have approached their group in the first place. It was interesting to see these men as suits, the kind running the studios and labels instead of those in front of the cameras and microphones.

One of them in particular had (Y/N) flicking her eyes away more than once, his face almost too pretty to look at for longer than a moment before needing a break.

His bone structure was sharp, jawline cutting with high cheekbones, a layer of stubble creeping up his cheeks. From his profile, his nose was a perfect straight line; cinnamon colored freckles were dusted over the bridge, faint under the lowlight. His hair came in textured waves of dark brown, playing off of the bright green hue of his eyes. His white button up was undone, displaying the white undershirt pasted to his torso. Just the faintest peeks of different tattoos bled through the thin fabric, including the tips of a chest piece peeking over the neckline of his tank. A small peach colored, paisley printed silk scarf was hanging around his neck, untied through the wrinkles in the material made it clear it had been knotted earlier in the night. A pair of black pants were belted around his hips with a shimmering pinstripe running through the garment, playing off the ambient lighting through the backyard.

(Y/N) couldn't keep herself from following the line of his form. Broad shoulders and strong chest gave way to a tapered waist, each block of muscle visible through the cling of the top.

By the time she dared to flit her eyes back up to his face, (Y/N) had to blink back her shock at finding the green lilypads of his eyes already trained right on her. A small smile touched at the corner of his mouth, amusement sparking across his graze.

Feeling her skin heating, she was suddenly too aware of herself. She hadn't meant to glaze her eyes all over him, let alone be caught doing just that. Flicking her gaze away on instinct towards Misty still schmoozing over her executive, (Y/N) shuffled in her spot, patent leather of her boots squeaking. Her hands suddenly felt too empty, especially feeling his eyes still warming the side of her face. She didn't think before she had her hand reaching for her hair, searching for some kind of flyaway or anything out of place to play with, just before her fingers collided with her forgotten sunglasses. If there wasn't already enough embarrassment coursing through her system, the fact she had left her accessory messily holding her hair back could have been enough to have her melting on the spot.

It wasn't bad enough she was caught ogling a stranger, she also had to have stray pieces of hair standing straight up on her head while she was at it.

Fumbling around, she plucked the sunglasses from the top of her head and made to shove them into her purse. A breathy laugh sounded, so quiet she wouldn't have heard it over all the noise had she not been hyper aware of the man standing only feet away from her.

Peeking up through the stray baby hairs falling in her face, (Y/N) saw the man with the peach scarf looking at her with an amused smile on his face, dimples in his cheeks with his green irises bright. He bounced his brows above his eyes when he caught her gaze, gesturing down to her stumbling hands and fingerprint laden glasses with a tip of his chin.

(Y/N)'s blood burned under the apples of her cheeks. She could only sheepishly shrug, a shy smile on her lips in hopes of looking more nonchalant than she clearly was.

Another small laugh plumed from him. Her shoulders relaxed some when she realized he wasn't making a joke of her, merely quietly teasing her over something only the two of them know about. A small inside joke was being threaded between them in the middle of the patio.

Stepping away from the congregation, the man made a step towards (Y/N). Her heartbeat picked up in her chest. It would only take a few of his long strides to close to space between them.

"This is (Y/N)," Misty chirped, tugging her forward and away from the stranger that had taken her attention. "My sister bailed, and (Y/N) stepped up to come with me tonight. I wouldn't be here if she didn't agree to come out here."

A slight daze had (Y/N)'s attention split between the present and moments before. She gave a placid smile to Misty's executive, offering a hand out for him to shake. "Nice to meet you. Mr. Vitacoma, right?"

He flashed (Y/N) a bright smile, offering his own greeting she barely paid attention to. Pleasantries were exchanged then, forcing her to play along as to not ruin this for Misty, though (Y/N)'s mind was decidedly stitched elsewhere. With every plastered smile and feigned attentive nod of her head, she could feel someone's—his—eyes on her.

If it wasn't disrespectful, she would have already disengaged from Mr. Vitacoma and given her attention back to the man with the peach scarf. As much as she warmed under his gaze, still feeling a bit of that embarrassment after being caught so obviously ogling him, she was thrilled to have seen him attempting to approach her.

She hoped she hadn't lost her chance to hear what kind of voice a man like that held, and what it may sound like wrapped around her name.

Hearing the beginnings of Misty's laugh, (Y/N) immediately joined in, having missed completely what she was laughing at but playing along anyway. Taking advantage of the moment, she turned her head just enough in hopes of catching sight of the peach scarf man from around Misty's back.

But, he was gone. Even with his height, she was unable to catch even a single swirl of his brown hair among the sea of the other executives congregating around them.

Before she had much of a chance to mourn the chance that had come and gone to know anything about this man, a scream sounding from beside the pool had her turning around. Misty and Mr. Vitacoma barely registered the noise, only offering fleeting glances in that direction before she was back to her half-flirting, half-schmoozing. (Y/N)'s jaw dropped when she saw what exactly had screeched beside the pool.

A woman with voluminous blonde hair and a drunken smile on her face had stripped down, her dress and undergarments sitting in a pile on the grass, and was running straight towards the pool. Those around the pool with drinks in their hands cheered her on, encouraging her just before she took a leap and splashed straight into the water. As soon as she surfaced, makeup running with her hair deflated and pasted her face, another round of raucous cheers cracked through the backyard.

Flitting her eyes around, (Y/N) expected to see others sharing her shock. Instead, she found people either not paying attention at all or smiling on as if this was nothing more than the scheduled entertainment for the night. While (Y/N) wouldn't consider herself a complete prude (she'd seen a few French films over the years, and they were certainly not for the pearl-clutchers back home), but she couldn't believe no one shied away at the sight of the woman's naked body. Was there a memo that Misty forgot to let her in on?

Nonetheless, (Y/N) found herself unable to pull her eyes from the commotion that was beginning over by the pool. It was as if the woman's display had been a gun firing off, signaling the start of the real party now that the sun had dipped and only the most fun remained for the rest of the festivities.

Those that had previously been lounging by the pool started up with their own soirees, some downing the rest of the drinks they had their hands before stripping and joining the woman in the pool, or plain watching on with heated looks on their faces. Even some men dared to strip down and join in, giving (Y/N) a sight she'd truly never seen before with her eyes going wide. Some of the couples she'd seen before had turned their attention to one another, lips and tongues meeting with reckless abandon. Blatant sexuality was put on show among the low lighting and the moon sparkling above their heads. Despite being in Los Angeles for a little over nine months, she'd never seen anyone behave this openly, acting as if there was no one else around other than those they wanted to see.

The most jarring came in the form of a trio—two women and one man—squeezed together on a pool lounger. The man had his arms around both of the women, but had his head bent towards one, kissing her with gusto. The other woman, skin a sparkling bronze with a thick headband holding back her curly hair, caressed her manicured hands across the lines of the redhead's body. The man didn't leave his other companion without, it appeared, his own brawny hand sliding down the cuff of her shoulder until it was dangling over the swell of her breast before brushing his fingers over where the peek had been hidden behind her dress. (Y/N) could spot the curly haired woman whispering something to the kissing pair, something quiet enough just for the three of them to hear just before the redhead smiled into the kisses though the man refused to break the contact and dove harder into the redhead's mouth. The curly haired woman looked at them with hooded eyes, eye shadow shimmering under the moonlight, as she reached out and combed her fingers through waves of red hair, fisting the strands back and out of her friend's face with a stiff tug. A blush touched the redhead's cheeks.

They moved as if they were on film. The touches from the curly-haired woman moved harmoniously with each caress from the redhead over the man's muscled chest, as if perfected from a script. A director could have been sat feet away, camera trained in their direction with the way every ideal angle was shown off to the rest of the party. (Y/N) wouldn't have been surprised if this whole night was nothing more than a setup for some magazine, a photographer waiting for the perfect moment before jumping out with a camera and the perfect lighting.

As soon as the curly-haired woman leaned across the man's chest and pressed a lingering kiss to the redhead's shoulder, a hoot sounded from one of the other onlookers in the backyard. It was then that (Y/N) remembered she wasn't the only one here, the only one watching. She had been seeing something like an editorial photoshoot with these people—a bit scandalous of a subject, but nonetheless boundary pushing—but the sound of a cheering comment had brought her back to the present to see this for what it was.

The artistic, pretty filter she had seen the moment in vanished, leaving what was gearing up to be much raunchier of a scene than she was sure any of her French films had shown.

Whipping her head away when the strap of the redhead's dress was pulled down, (Y/N) turned to see Misty and Mr. Vitacoma conversing with no indication that either of them cared to know what was going on behind their backs.

"Mist," (Y/N) murmured, feeling only a little bad to be interrupting, "I'm going to go get a drink inside, okay?"

Misty gave her a nod with a small smile. "Okay, I'll come find you later."

With that, (Y/N) gave Misty and her executive a parting nod before scurrying away to head back inside, her eyes staying on her feet and nowhere near the pool.

It was with a sigh of relief that (Y/N) closed the door behind herself. While there was much more commotion and bodies surrounding her inside the mansion, it was decidedly less pressure than whatever it was going on out there. Though she was alone this time around, which wasn't something she thought about until a group of men in suits passed her by, a few offering appreciative glances in her direction.

This place seemed much bigger without Misty at her side.

Meandering through the throngs of people and the puddles of liquor on the floor, (Y/N) wasn't sure where she was going, only that the closer she was to the backyard, the more clinging the atmosphere seemed to be. There were plenty of people around her, some with clear influence that she was sure she should have been using this opportunity to get to know, just like Misty brought her here for, but she continued on with no clear destination in mind.

She didn't feel comfortable inserting herself in the cigar room, not when the men had poured out whiskey and the smoke had turned into something heavier. More faces littered the halls, getting more and more packed the darker the night grew. Sticking close to the walls, (Y/N) couldn't help the owlish blinks that fluttered her lashes as she took in the raucous patrons of the party. She was well aware of the parties and the night clubs that livened up downtown LA, but she never figured something like that could fit between the walls of someone's home.

Inadvertently, she found herself approaching the first room she had Misty had spotted, full of women her age dancing and having fun with a bartender slinging drinks faster than the records spinning. While she wasn't exactly comfortable, this room felt a lot easier to wade through as opposed to the faux board meeting going on in the other with all of the smoking men.

Keeping company with the fridges of the room, (Y/N) had the lingering thought that maybe she wasn't cut out for this kind of industry. Whether it be modeling or becoming a movie star, she figured she should be able to make conversation with practical strangers instead of marinating in her own excitement all by herself. A real model—a confident star—would have found the spotlight without hesitation and made a group of friends and connections that would land her somewhere even more glamorous than this mansion in the Hills.

Instead, (Y/N) was stationed somewhere between the record player and the suede couch pushed against the walls, tucked out of the way and listening into the conglomeration of all of these conversations.

Out of seemingly nowhere, a woman with towering dark hair and a sleek black dress entered her field of vision. She wore a bright smile and eyes that were a bit glossy, red veins spidering over her sclera.

"Are you friends with Misty?!" she shouted, maybe a bit too loud even with the record player and sound system so close.

Taken aback, a whiff of heavy liquor radiating from this girl's breath, (Y/N) gave a small nod. "Yeah, we work together."

"That is so fun! I work with her sister, Angelica! Where is she?" The girl stumbled some on her heels, reaching out for (Y/N)'s shoulder to keep herself steady.

"Angelica is seeing a friend tonight, so she couldn't make it," (Y/N) started, stifling her laughter over this woman's sudden friendship with her, "And, Misty's outside talking to some record label guy."

Her mouth fell open, dark lashes fluttering. "Come hang out with me and my friends! You shouldn't be alone at a party like this! Oh my god, and you need a drink!" Every sentence tumbling out of this woman's mouth broadened (Y/N)'s smile. Other than some rowdy patrons at the restaurant, she wasn't around many drunk people, especially none this excitable. A gasp fell from her lips, stopping herself in her teetering heels with her hand clutched around (Y/N)'s shoulder. "Wait, what's your name?"

"I'm (Y/N)," she smiled, "What's your name?"

"Marguerite! Now, do you want to take shots or do you want an actual drink?"

(Y/N) followed after Marguerite with a bubbling smile. She hoped she would be able to find her spotlight now.

—————

Twirling in her boots, (Y/N) tossed her head back with her eyes closed. She could vaguely feel the condensation from the drink in her hand, glass slick in her hand. By the time she opened her eyes, dropping back into the moment with the group of women that had adopted her for the night, she couldn't figure out if the room was spinning because of her wiring or if it was her drinking.

From working at the restaurant, and knowing enough bartenders through her journey of becoming known, she knew most bartenders tended to water drinks down to keep people coming for more and giving some hefty tips, but it didn't seem this man had received that memo. These cocktails were heavy, full of sour heat as soon as it touched her tongue before being doused out by the collection of juices and citrus mixed throughout. Initially, she had turned down taking shots with Marg and her friends, but she figured she could have just done that and made it to the same state she was currently in.

But, that didn't matter. Anything from a couple of hours ago, no longer mattered. What mattered now was how each song she heard was now her favorite, every cocktail she tried was the best she'd ever had, and these girls were undoubtedly the best friends she'd ever had. (Y/N) was almost certain she'd never been this drunk before.

A night of firsts, she figured; first networking opportunity she'd ever gone to, and the first time she'd been drunk enough that her heart and the record player in the corner were made of the same rhythms.

She'd have to find her spotlight another time, it appeared.

Suddenly, the weight of someone's hand settled on the small of her back. Seeing her friends—albeit a bit blurry—in front of her, she couldn't imagine who exactly would be comfortable enough to place their hands on her.

Whirling around, the hem of her dress fluttering around her thighs, (Y/N) saw an unfamiliar face looking down at her. His hair was black like his suit, slicked back with enough product to make the strands appear wet. His eyes were just as dark and glassy, with the sclera full of red veins.

It was a distant memory, from a version of herself that was sober and no longer here, (Y/N) remembered the men that had strategically placed themselves about the room in order to gain the perfect vantage point to watch the women drinking and socializing as if they were a show on the television set. None of them had been so bold to approach anyone yet, but it only took a quick glance towards Marg and the others to see this must have been a team effort, everyone a touch distracted by these unfamiliar men.

"Hi, sweet thing," this man murmured, dipping his head unnecessarily close to her ear, "Having fun?"

"Um—"

"(Y/N)?"

Snapping away from this man, (Y/N) clutched her drink. A breath of relief touched her lungs when she saw it was Misty who had called to her. She looked just as pristine as when they had arrived, dress still clinging to her form, hair perfectly straight without a strand out of place. (Y/N) doubted her lipstick was anywhere near as perfect as Misty's still was.

"Mist! You're back!" (Y/N) cheered, grateful to be dismissing the man in favor of wrapping Misty in an enthusiastic hug. "Are you a singer now?!"

Misty shot her a bubbling smile, the corners twitching as if she was trying not to be as happy as she currently felt. "I might be," she muttered, sheepish, "I have a meeting—a real one—with Mr. Vitacoma tomorrow morning. I need to get home so I can sleep at least a little before I head to the office."

(Y/N) blinked, arms going limp around Misty. "Now?"

"Yeah," Misty nodded, mind obviously elsewhere, "Do you have your stuff?"

"Um," (Y/N) prattled, suddenly aware of her bag hanging from her elbow, "Yeah, but... I don't know, Mist. I'm kind of really drunk, I think."

Misty seemed to suddenly take note of her friend's state and the cold drink in her hand. "Wait. How many drinks have you had?"

"Three, I think," (Y/N) started, unwittingly beginning to sway to the new song that had started playing through the space, "But they're really strong."

Fitting her bottom lip between her teeth, Misty's face twisted into worry. "You don't think you can drive, right now? It's almost two."

Opening her mouth, (Y/N) felt like a guppy when she stood there and no words came. While she was far from sober, she was definitely beginning to feel the gravity of what Misty needed from her. She had a terribly exciting meeting set up for tomorrow morning, a real sit down with Mr. Vitacoma that would make her one of the voices etched into a vinyl. Misty had no idea how to drive, so (Y/N) needed to get her home before the sun started on the horizon.

"I—um—hold on," she said, dropping her drink to sit on a random surface, "I think I need some air, and after that I can drive us home. Do you know if there's any food around?"

Misty, working on one problem at a time, clutched (Y/N)'s hand and started towards the backyard. It was a deja vu moment, (Y/N) absently wondering what the grassy area had devolved into through the hours she had been inside.

"Get some air, and I'll try to find some bread or something," Misty thought out loud, pushing open the glass door with their shoes clicking over the cement patio.

The world spun a bit too fast for (Y/N) to catch anything going on around the pool, allowing her to simply follow after Misty as best she could in the boots that suddenly felt less than stable now that she wasn't dancing. Like a wobbly shadow, (Y/N) stayed close to Misty as she rounded to the side of the house, out of the way of the distant splashing and cheering from the pool.

"Are you okay to stay right here?" Misty asked, stopping (Y/N) on a soft patch of grass between the main home and shed field with whatever it took to maintain lawns of this size. From here, she could spot the height of the trees that had welcomed them when they made it here hours earlier.

(Y/N) nodded her head, sinking to sit down on the cool grass. "Where are you going?"

Misty looked at her with wide eyes, bottom lip being chewed between her teeth. "To get you something to eat. And, water, probably."

"Oh yeah," (Y/N) bubbled, a plume of laughter falling from her lips, "I'll be okay, I think."

Her friend hesitated for a moment, steps starting and stopping with one more look at (Y/N) in the safety of the secluded space before starting off for the house. Left by herself with her bare legs laid in the cool blades of grass and the sky clear above her, (Y/N) took in deep breaths.

Without smoke and thick humidity clogging the air, she was allowed a reprieve. Sitting here, she didn't feel all that drunk, but she doubted she would feel that stable if she made a move to stand up. Hopefully, whatever Misty found inside would help her get back on track, make it so she could have Misty home before the night had ended.

Pulling her knees to her chest, (Y/N) tried to concentrate. She wanted her mind to slow, her gaze to even, and her body to feel like her own again. She couldn't drive like this, she knew, but Misty was relying on her. (Y/N) needed to figure out how to get this alcohol out of her system in record time.

It was a frustrating goal, one she knew was going to be impossible to achieve when she couldn't get her gaze to focus on a miniscule chip in the white paint of the shed before her. Her gaze moved like the liquor that had sloshed in her glass inside.

Was she going to have to drive like this? Would they even make it back if she did that?

She hadn't realized her eyes had grown wet, tears puddling in her waterline until her sight ws that much more unreliable. She was frustrated and nervous, pressure coming from the fact that without a miracle, she was going to have to make sense of wavy lines while driving her friend home to prepare for the meeting of a lifetime.

(She wasn't a perfect driver, anyway. She doubted she'd be much better when she wasn't one hundred percent sober).

"Hey, are y'alright?"

Whipping her head up, (Y/N) caught only a glimpse of the new guest of her spot before wincing. Moving the fast wasn't a good idea if she was working on getting her vision to quit swimming.

"Y-Yeah, I'm fine," she stuttered, cracking her eyes open just enough to find the vague lines of who was standing before her, "I'm drunk."

A breathy laugh filled the air. One (Y/N) knew—had been hyper aware of just hours ago.

Blinking her eyes open, her vision having settled, she saw the man with the peach scarf. Right in front of her with the pretty green of his eyes trained on her, moonlight seeping through the swirls of his hair.

He was British. Interesting.

"Do y'want something to drink? It might be a good idea to eat something, too." The sharp planes of his face softened out, rounding with dimples in his cheeks and a kind smile curving his lips.

"My friend, she's already grabbing so-something for me," she hiccuped, "You met her kind of; she was talking to your friend."

Crouching to sit at her level, the man nodded his head. "She's something," he laughed, "Not many people come up to John like that. She has a meeting with him in the morning, right?"

(Y/N) nodded her head, squinting when her vision when spiraling once more. "Yeah, so I need to drive her home, but I think I'm still drunk. She's getting me some water, and then we have to go."

This man's reaction came in the form of a pinch settling between his brows, lips thinning. "She doesn't want to drive?"

"She doesn't know how," (Y/N) clarified.

He didn't seem to like this extra information much more. His tone was gentle when he spoke again, everything softened in this accent she'd only ever heard on television. "I don't know if 's a good idea for y'to be driving tonight. Maybe, we can go inside and see if there's anywhere y'can sleep for the night."

Reaching a broad hand out for her to take, he looked at her with encouraging eyes. (Y/N) shook her head. "I can't. She has that meeting in the morning and I have work tomorrow, we-we can't stay. I just need some water, and then I'll be okay."

A heaved sigh fell from his lungs. "I don't think that's how it works, love."

Before she could make heart eyes over the pet name he laid over her, (Y/N) saw a familiar form rounding behind her new friend.

"(Y/N)? I've got your water. How are you feeling?" Stepping around the man with the peach scarf, Misty had water and what looked to be a glass of dry cereal in her hands. She gave a sidelong glance towards the man that was not there the last time she'd seen her friend.

Lagging in response, (Y/N) blinked up at Misty. "I'm good—so much better! Let's go!"

Just as she put on her performance with an attempt to get to her feet, her flimsy cover was blown as soon as she stumbled into Misty with her arms pinwheeling at her sides. With her hands full, Misty offered an arm towards (Y/N) to brace herself, but it was the man with the peach scarf that steadied her before she had a chance to fall flat on her face. He reached towards her, settling his palms on her shoulders with (Y/N) touching his chest over the thin material of his top.

"(Y/N)!" Misty bubbled, eyes wide.

Blinking up at the man with her lashes fluttering around her uneven gaze, (Y/N) took in the sight of him with the moon acting as a halo behind his head.

Was her mouth agape? Was she still touching him? Was she unbelievably drunk, or was the rest of the world a blur, except for him?

"Are y'alright?" he murmured, concern dripping from his words.

Back on earth, (Y/N) shook herself away from the man, their hands dropping to their sides though she swore she could still feel the creases of his palms and length of his fingers around her shoulders.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," she insisted, turning her gaze towards Misty, "Sorry, just—hold on, I can take us home, just give me a second."

Both Misty and the man gave her less than impressed looks.

He was the first to move, looking towards Misty with a bounce to his brows. "Misty, right?"

Despite (Y/N)'s clear favoring of him, Misty didn't knock the suspicious accusations from her eyes. "Yes. Why?"

He shot her that dazzling smile, dimples and all. "I know y'have an appointment with John tomorrow morning, but she's not going to be well enough to drive tonight. It wouldn't be safe to head home before she's had a chance to sleep this off."

Misty's shoulders dropped at the serious tone he served her. "But... I can't—We can't stay. I have to go home to get ready for that meeting, and she has to go to work."

Pursing his lips, the man settled his hands on his hips as the gears in his head began to turn. "Where's home?"

Even in her muddled head, (Y/N) could see the reluctance Misty held when she gave the general area they came from.

He gave her a nod, lips still thinned. Peering through his lashes, he looked at Misty before offering a fleeting glance towards (Y/N). "I can take y'both home. I haven't had anything to drink tonight."

Walls back up immediately, Misty gave an uncertain stare, brows pinched. She didn't have to say anything for man to start offering an alternative, (Y/N) letting out a plume of laughter.

"Or, I can call a taxi? I can't guarantee anyone will be available, or how quick they'd make it out, but 'm more than happy to pay for it." Sincerity lit up his eyes.

Misty didn't immediately have an answer, taking her turn to think over the direction the night had taken. The silence left (Y/N) a chance for the alcohol to wipe her own thoughts over the dilemma, her attention instead shifting to lay fully on the man that stood before her.

Maybe it was the vodka shining in her eyes, but she swore something angelic began to shimmer from the edges of him. He really was so pretty, (Y/N) thought. Earlier hadn't just been the product of an excitable mind seeing a bunch of important people for the first time since her cross-country move, he really was gorgeous.

Did he know that? Were enough people telling him that? Should she tell him?

For the second time that night, she was caught staring at him. A twitching of a smile touched at the corner of his mouth, his eye dropping into a wink.

She couldn't help herself, her own features brightening and molding into something giddy. She didn't need Misty to tell her what the best option was out of the two this man had presented, (Y/N) already had her favorite picked out.

"You'd really t-take us home?" (Y/N) hiccuped through her smile, clasping her hands in front of her middle.

"If that's what you'd prefer," he drawled, amusement dancing over his features as he took in her reaction.

Before he could send a precursory glance towards Misty once more, (Y/N) piped up, "I prefer that! Please."

A small plume of laughter fell from his lips at her outburst, Misty even taking a peek in her direction with a raised brow and half smile.

"Please, Mist," (Y/N) pleaded, a bright smile on her face, "Isn't he so nice?"

Another small glance towards the man was given by Misty. "What's your name? I'm not getting in someone's car when I don't know their name."

"'M Harry," he smiled, "And John is a good friend of mine, and he'd kill me if I messed up his schedule tomorrow by not getting you two home."

"And, you're not crazy, right?"

Another set of dimples touched his cheeks. "Not as far as I know."

"Fine," Misty settled, "Thank you, Harry."

"Thank you, Harry," (Y/N) parroted, a little too excitable.

Both Misty and Harry helped guide (Y/N)'s stumbling steps through the mansion, the water and cereal Misty grabbed for her being left behind as they made their way through the halls. More than once, she had the privilege of getting a touch from Harry's large hand on her arm or between her shoulder blades when her balance teetered.

He led them through the mansion and to the valet where a different attendant now stood at the station. Harry gave the man a small nod before taking them sharply away from the bank of cars that had been valeted out of the way, out of the way to a glossy forest green Cadillac.

(Y/N) gaped in awe. She'd seen plenty of nice cars while living out here, but she'd never thought anyone actually drove them—not anyone real, like Harry, anyway.

Harry made to stand by the passenger side, holding open the back door for them to slip inside. "This is yours?" she asked, "Like, you drive it and everything?"

"I do, yeah. Like it?"

"The color is really pretty," (Y/N) shared, holding back the detail that it reminded her of the flecks of darker hues in his eyes.

"Thank you," he smiled.

Misty guided (Y/N) into the backseat then, following in to sit beside her a moment later. An amused look was on her friend's face. "You're a flirty drunk, huh?"

"Am I?" (Y/N) bubbled. Was it terribly obvious she thought Harry was pretty?

"A little," Misty laughed just as Harry took his own spot behind the wheel. "But, it's alright. It's good for you—you don't do it enough."

"Jus' straight home, right ladies?"

"Yes, please." Misty reached ahead where a folded map was sitting on the bench of the passenger seat. "Do you want me to give directions?"

Harry shrugged off the offer, "I think I've got it. Y'jus' keep an eye on her."

Looking forward, into the rearview mirror, (Y/N) caught Harry's eyes on her, creases touching the corners as a smile spread over his lips.

—————

"Bye, Mist. Call me tomorrow, please. I want to know how your meeting goes."

"I will," Misty murmured, giving (Y/N) a tired hug before she started inching towards the door, "When you get home, eat something and have some water before you go to sleep. And take off your makeup."

As much as (Y/N) wanted to stick to Misty's instructions, she knew herself well enough to know that those words had gone right through her. Nonetheless, she nodded her head. "Okay. Love you."

"Love you, too." Pushing the door open, Misty took a glance over her shoulder towards Harry in the front seat, who was fiddling with the radio dials on the dashboard. "Thank you for driving us home, Harry. I'm happy you aren't crazy."

"Me too," he smiled, turning to face her, "'M happy I could get y'home safely. Let me walk y'up."

(Y/N) watched as Harry escorted her friend up to her front door, giving her a perfect view of all of the lines of his body. Being cramped up in his car almost made her forget the full length of his height. As if there wasn't enough she would be thinking about once she was at her apartment.

Taking his seat back in the front seat once Misty was inside safely, Harry turned to look at (Y/N) over the bench seat. "Wanna sit up here with me? Or are y'comfortable back there?"

She didn't even have to think before she was scrambling to make her new spot at his side. "I wanna sit with you."

Although she'd never thought of herself as particularly funny, Harry seemed to think she was hilarious. Everything she said drew a laugh out of him.

Nonetheless, she hopped out of the backseat and found her new spot up in the passenger side of the bench seat beside Harry. Turning the key in the ignition, he pulled away from the curb of Misty's house before shooting a quick glance towards (Y/N).

"Want to find some music for us? I can only listen to the same advertisements so many times, you know," Harry prompted, nodding to the radio with a dip of his chin.

"The McDonald's one is the worst," (Y/N) bubbled, reaching over to play with the dials, "It's always on."

Harry agreed with a hum, following the directions Misty had given before she left for the night to head towards (Y/N)'s apartment. "What kind of music do y'like?"

"Anything fun," (Y/N) offered, shooting him a bright smile, "But, I really love The Zombies right now."

Perking up at her words, Harry glanced at her as he came to a stop sign. "The Zombies? What's your favorite song?"

(Y/N) couldn't help the bubbling of conversation that sprouted from her lips then, the radio dials left behind in favor of talking with Harry. He was the perfect listener, even while he was carefully getting her home, she didn't doubt he was listening in. More than once, she wasn't sure if he was only being kind given the fact she was bubbly with alcohol, but he encouraged her ramblings, feeding her his own opinions and asking her what she thought. (Y/N) could have stayed curled up in this space for much longer than the short ten minutes between her apartment and Misty's home.

By the time he pulled up to her apartment building, (Y/N) almost wanted to pout.

Only the hum of the engine sounded as he paused in his seat, pulling his wallet from the pocket of his trousers. Casualy, he thumbed through the bills he had ticked inside the leather, grabbing more than (Y/N) would make in tips even during a busy Friday night shift at the restaurant. He passed the wad off to her.

"Use this to take a taxi to get your car tomorrow," Harry instructed, giving her a soft smile, "I know y'didn't really plan on leaving it overnight, so I'd like to take care of the drive back for you."

(Y/N) hesitated. "Are you sure? That's kind of a lot."

He shrugged, "'S my fault y'left it. I don't mind."

Gingerly, she pulled the cash out of his hand. "Are you going to be there tomorrow?"

"Probably not," he smiled, another laugh from his lungs.

Juxtaposing his amusement, the beginnings of a pout touched her lips. "So, I won't see you again."

"Not tomorrow," he clarified, raising a brow, "But, maybe soon."

Just like he did for Misty, Harry walked (Y/N) up to the door of her building, keeping her from stumbling up the stairs that led to the glass door.

"You're alright to get up by yourself, or do y'want me to go with you?"

As much as she would have liked to get him to spend a handful of minutes more with her, (Y/N) shook her head. He'd done a lot for her tonight already. "I'll be okay, but thank you. For everything tonight. You kind of saved the day for Misty.

"'S easier this way," he smiled, "And much more fun than trying to kick people out of the house with John doing nothing to help."

"Is he your best friend?" (Y/N) asked, stalling a bit despite her better judgment.

"A little," Harry said, lifting his shoulders in a shrug, "But he definitely doesn't have as good of taste in music as y'do."

Much like the first time she spotted him this evening, (Y/N) felt her skin warm at his words. "If you get a chance to listen to that album, let me know what you think."

"I definitely will, love. But, you've got to get to bed first."

"Right," she said, attempting to sober up with a nod, "Thank you again."

"Of course, (Y/N). Goodnight."

Harry waited until she was safely inside, where she went on to practically float up the stairs with the sound of his accent wrapped around her name echoing in her head. Now in the quiet of her apartment, among her things, the bubbling excitement she'd felt throughout the evening simmered down to a dreamy haze.

She'd had one of the most fun nights she'd had since moving to the city, and it ended with her being taken care of by one of the most beautiful men she'd ever seen. After tugging off her boots, she pulled out the cash he'd given her, counting out the abundant amount of bills he'd passed off to her. Thumbing through them, she stopped when she reached the middle of the wad, where a thick white business card was tucked between.

Separating the cash from the card, (Y/N) flipped it over to find black script printed over the paper.

Harry Styles.

She didn't even try to bite back the wide smile touching her lips.

—————

brigitte bardot, model, actress, and singer; a timeless icon of the 60's

ahhhhh! so happy to finally share this little part of bardot with you guys! once again this is a patreon exclusive with every part after this one only being available on my page! thank u sm for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and if you have any fun ideas please send them in!!!

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starsinthesky5 · 16 hours

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why do you like me so much then? || joe burrow x reader

description: why do you like him so much? everything you said made him sound like a lackluster boyfriend, so why did you like him so much?

a/n: this is either really bad, chaotic, all over the place, or just yapping. sorry. the fact that this was supposed to be a blurb?? yeah. i cannot write blurbs LOL.

thanks to @joeyb1989 and my anons for giving me inspo for this! and to joe with that sexy, bratty eyebrow raise that I can never move on from

word count: 9.2 k

warnings: angstttt, smutttt, fluff

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3 hours. That's how long it took you to get ready tonight.

You spent an uncharacteristic amount of time carefully positioning each strand of your hair, ensuring that each piece was perfectly curled and set. You made sure every piece of jewelry from your delicate necklaces to your sparkling earrings and bracelets, all of which were gifted by your boyfriend, shimmered in the warm light and reflected a soft glow. Each stroke of makeup had to look flawless to complete the look, your eye shadow blending in seamlessly as you perfected your small winged eyeliner. The silk sage green slip-on dress you wore–with a delicate lace trim–fit your body like a glove; highlighting every aspect of your beautiful figure perfectly.

You looked amazing and you felt amazing for the first time in a long time. The past few weeks had been filled with strangeness and ambiguity and you were in desperate need of a change of pace. The strangeness came from how you and Joe had been a bit distant from each other lately, which was uncommon for you two. You were constantly attached at the hip, utterly fixated on each other to the point where the mere thought of being apart would lead to a state of misery and endless complaining. But this past month, you couldn’t be more disconnected from each other. Joe had been so wrapped up with football training this past month to the point where it felt like you two barely saw each other, and that didn't sit well with either of you. You always used to make so much time for each other no matter what, but recently it felt like you two stopped trying.

Every time you thought of planning something to do together such as a little lunch date at your favorite cafe, or a relaxed hike around the park, even just ordering takeout and eating together on the couch while watching a movie, it would always get moved or put off till the next week because Joe had something come up. Either it was more training (which was understandable), more brand shoots (somewhat understandable), or even because he wanted to hang out with the guys--completely not understandable.

You were never the kind of girlfriend who would keep her boyfriend away from his friends, especially because you actually really liked Joe's friends and greatly appreciated the support they gave him, but when he started using them as an excuse to pass on spending time with you, that's when you became a bit bitter. You were the most understanding person when it came to the things Joe had going on in his life. You knew that he had a lot on his plate and couldn't always be fully present for you, but he always tried his best to be. Or at least he used to.

Passing on training and brand-related work was hard, but passing on hanging out with his friends once or twice so he could go through with the plans he made with his girlfriend was fairly easy.

It should be easy, right?

But Joe didn’t do that. He instead moved your plans to hang out with them, and that hurt. He said that you could do the lunch date, hike, or takeout food & movie evening later on, but that 'later' rarely came around. He would just get swamped with more things and you'd be so focused on your work that you couldn't bother to bring up the subject again.

Joe noticed your increased irritation as well, but he just never said anything because he didn’t feel like it was anything serious, just you in a mood. He wasn't sure what made you so resentful all of a sudden, but he knew better than to argue with you about your sudden mood swings, especially because he knew there could be over 100 reasons for them and didn't really want to set you off even more by pointing it out.

What Joe did notice was that you two hadn't had much one-on-one time like that recently–completely oblivious to the fact that's exactly why you were so bitter–so he decided to take the first step and offer to take you to dinner at the end of the week. You were so excited when he proposed the idea of going to dinner on Friday, looking forward to spending some much-needed quality time with the person you loved the most. He told you that he'd take you to this new steakhouse in Downtown Cincinnati and then he'd take you down to the banks so you two could lay against the grassy field and look up at the stars together, something you used to do every weekend during the off-season but something had slowly fizzled out as time went by and your weekends became a bit more intense.

"Every star in the universe reminds me of how much I love you. You’re not just a part of my world; you are the center of my galaxy, and everything else revolves around the love we share," is what he told you the first time you went stargazing. Those special words have stuck with you ever since, especially the part about how you’re the center of his galaxy, but lately, it started to feel like the center of his galaxy had shifted to something other than you. You couldn't figure out when things shifted; those genuine, pacifying moments you two shared became scarily rare. In the back of your mind, you felt like you were losing him. Even though you weren't, it just felt like it, and that was the worst feeling out of them all. Nothing you did or he did made that thought go away. What you didn't or he didn't do is what made it worse.

You were determined to use this date as a way to move things back on track in your relationship, hopefully even talking about how off things had been lately, so that’s why you dedicated an unusual three hours to primping and preparing. Despite your efforts to achieve perfection, Joe’s love for you was unwavering, regardless of your appearance. He adored your natural beauty, free of makeup, and cherished your tousled, messy hair. He found you just as enchanting in your old gray sweats and one of his worn-out college t-shirts that made you look oh-so tiny. You knew how indifferent he was to perfection, but you wanted everything to be excellent tonight, even if he didn't need it to be. You needed this.

You were filled with anticipation as you imagined walking into the restaurant with him, the warmth of his hand in yours. You could almost taste the first sip of wine, feel the soft buzz it would bring, and sense the rush of emotions as you immerse yourself in the familiar and comforting bubble of your love for each other. You needed to feel that again so badly.

You took one final look in the mirror, "Damn, I look good. He’s going to love this," you whispered to yourself as your eyes navigated up and down your figure before giving yourself a small nod of approval and exiting the bathroom. You grabbed your white chanel handbag which was one of the many birthday gifts he had gotten you last month and made your way out of the shared bedroom and down the stairs, a big smile on your face as you were expecting an adorable, dressed, and ready Joe awaiting your arrival. But as you reached the last few steps, your smile dropped as you were met with the exact opposite.

You were met with a Joe dressed in gray sweatpants and an old LSU tee whose back was facing you while he was sitting on the couch, had his headset on, and was playing video games on the TV.

"Today is Friday, right?" you whispered to yourself as you pulled your phone to read the date, which showed that it was in fact Friday and you weren't crazy.

"Joe?" you called out as you slipped your phone back into your bag, slowly walking down the couple of steps you had left with a look of sheer confusion on your face. He didn't hear you, but you heard him.

"Aye, man. What the fuck?" he said loudly as he started aggressively pushing the buttons on his game controller. "How the hell did you get to level 10 when it's only been a week since the last time we played?".

His friends. He was playing with his friends.

"Of course," you scoffed as you walked over to the living room where he was, throwing your handbag onto the dining table before calling out for him again. "Joe?.... Joeeeee?" you said louder from behind him, but he still didn't look back at you.

"He has to be fucking ignoring me. There is no way his headset is this soundproof," you thought to yourself as you shook your head and walked around the couch to come into his view.

Joe looked over and saw you walking towards him, his eyes giving you a quick once-over before settling on your soft eyes which had a slow burning fire behind them. "You look nice," he mumbled to you before looking back at the TV. While he may not have looked directly at you, his words were genuine–he couldn't help but admire your alluring beauty.

“....Thanks...,” you replied with a dubious tone. “Did you forget that it’s Friday?” you asked him as you looked over at the screen and then back down to him, no response yet again.

“No, don’t go that way,” he warned his friends through the headset, completely ignoring what you just asked him.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you thought to yourself again.

“Joe? Hellooo?” you called out again but waved your hands for him to see you from the corner of his eye, which he did but didn’t say anything. You were becoming increasingly annoyed with his lack of attention towards you, especially since you knew he could see you and see that you were trying to get his attention.

"Do you need something?" he finally asked as he moved one side of his headset off his ear, still too focused on the game and his friends to focus in on your conversation.

"Do I need something? Yes, I fucking need something. I need my boyfriend to go on our date with me which he promised to take me on," you thought to yourself, wanting nothing more than to scream into a pillow.

"Baby, it's Friday," you took a deep breath and said, crossing your arms as you tried to prevent yourself from flipping out on him.

"Yeah, I know," he softly laughed, putting the headset back on again and going back to the game, not even bothering to wait and listen if you had anything else to say, which you did.

You were absolutely dumbfounded by his actions; it was clear that he was intentionally overlooking you. Joe knew you wouldn't bother him like this without a good reason, especially during his video game time with his high school buddies, so his behavior was completely unjustified.

"Did he forget?" you thought to yourself, feeling your heart break a little at the thought. There was no way he forgot, right? He was the one who planned this date, how could he forget?

Your expression softened as you asked him, "Did you forget?". You didn't really want to hear his response because deep down, you already knew the answer. Admitting it meant that he actually forgot about you.

But you didn't need to hear his response because there was no response.

You looked back and forth between him and the TV, seeing how he was practically looking right through you and pretending as if you weren’t standing there in the most date-night outfit ever. Joe was oblivious sometimes, but he wasn’t that oblivious.

“Fuck this,” you mumbled, deciding to take matters into your own hands since he wasn't listening and didn't look like he was planning on listening. You walked over to the TV, grabbed the plug from the outlet behind it, and yanked it so hard that you could've pulled out the entire electrical system in the wall.

"Y/N, what the hell?" you heard from behind you, as well as the sound of Joe taking his headset off and throwing it down onto the couch.

"Oh, so now you acknowledge my presence?" you rolled your eyes and sighed heavily.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he asked you, his eyebrows furrowed as if he was genuinely confused.

"What do you think? I called out your name like 4 times and got no response. Then when I actually got your attention, or I thought I did, you didn't even answer my question fully and brushed me off like I was just some girl," you said as you walked closer to him, the built-up bitterness inside of you begging to be released.

"You're not just some girl," he shook his head. "You're my girlfri-," he began to say before you interrupted him.

"Oh yeah? Then act like I am. I asked you a question and you completely ignored it and ignored me," you grumbled as you gave him a look that he instantly knew meant you were genuinely pissed off.

"What do you mean? I did answer your question," he shrugged.

"Fucking barely? I told you it was Friday and was hoping that would ring a bell but it didn't, and then I asked you if you forgot but you had already put your dumb fucking headset on and either didn't hear me or didn't want to hear me," you snarled, rolling your shoulders back as the tension in your body increased and put a strain on your upper body.

"Ohhh, it's Friday? So what?" he sarcastically laughed while shaking his hands, then stood up and practically towered over you. You hated when he did this whenever you two got into a little disagreement, it felt like he was showing the power he had over you and made you feel 10 times smaller.

"Are you serious?" you asked, feeling the heat rising in your cheeks and your eyes beginning to well up with tears. It wasn't sadness that caused the tears, but a deep sense of anger.

"What did I forget hmm? Because I'm pretty sure that I already did the laundry, cleaned up the kitchen from lunch, ordered the groceries, and watered your plants outside," he asked, the bratty tone in his voice making you want to scream into a pillow and then proceed to hit him with said pillow.

You felt your bottom lip tremble as your entire body felt a wave of sadness overpower the anger you were feeling.

He really forgot.

He didn't forget to do all the other things that weren’t that big of a deal, but what he did forget was the most important thing.

"Our...our date, Joe?" you choked out, feeling a tear fall from your eye it felt like the world went silent. "Our fucking date," you said again, this time with more anger in your voice, wiping the tear trail from your cheek. So much for your flawless makeup.

Joe's heart immediately sank at the mention of the word 'date.' He had completely forgotten about the plans you had made, the plans he had made. How could he have forgotten something like this? He knew how important this date was; it was the first time in a long time that you two got to spend alone time together away from everything. Even though he never said it, he felt awful that each time you tried to plan something together, it was pushed back for some reason and never thought about again.

His eyes softened as he realized why you were mad, "Y/N, I'm so sorry...I forgot," he said.

You remained quiet for a few seconds, trying to calm yourself by taking a few deep breaths but that wasn't really working. "I shouldn't be surprised you forgot, you know? I've been practically invisible to you this past month," you scoffed, a few more tears falling from your eyes unknowingly.

"Invisible?" Joe questioned, a bit taken aback by your harsh response. Yeah, he had been spending less time with you lately, but in no way were you invisible to him.

"Yeah, invisible. It's like I'm just not here. You've been basically avoiding spending time with me and the one time you offer to plan something, you conveniently forget. Spare me, Joe," you shook your head and said.

"Woah, I wouldn't say I'm avoiding spending time with you?" he said as he took a step closer to you. "I've been busy, you know I've been busy,".

"I get that, but what about those times when you ditched doing something with me so you could do something with the guys? I understand if it’s because of training and stuff but getting ditched for your friends? That hurts. Especially when we already had plans but you moved them and little old me always went along with it because I didn't want to rock the boat," you cried, your tears breaking through and free-falling down your cheeks now.

"Rock the boat? What are you...what are you even talking about?" he threw his hands in the air and asked. "What the hell is she talking about? I know we've been spending less time together, but in no way is the boat being rocked. We're fine?" he thought to himself.

"Here you go with the oblivious act," you laughed through the tears in amusement. "Un. fucking. believable. You always do this whenever you’re in the wrong, and frankly, I’m sick of it. You're acting as if I haven't been visibly miserable the past few weeks. Oh, wait. That's just it, how would you know? I'm invisible to you," you said, your voice a little louder as the anger was once again taking over.

"Look, I don't know what the fuck I did but I don't understand why you're blowing up over this," Joe said, his hand moving to scratch the back of his neck.

"That's just it. It's mostly what you didn't do. You didn't bother to reschedule our plans, you didn't bother to check in on me to see if I was really okay with you moving our plans, and you didn't fucking remember we were supposed to go out tonight," you yelled, your breaths becoming shorter as you felt yourself turning red from slight distress. You felt awful for yelling at him, but all of the emotions you had built up this past month were coming out at once and it was not going to be pretty.

Joe stood in silence, his eyes fixed on you as you continued to express your disappointment with his recent behavior as your boyfriend. He felt a sense of unease as he realized the impact of his actions on your emotions. He knew he was in the wrong, but he was hoping you understood how hectic his schedule was and how that prevented him from giving his all to you recently.

You always understood. And if you didn't, you talked to him about it. But this time you didn't do either of those things, and that made him a little upset. Communication was a big part of your relationship and although it had been pretty off this past month, he thought you would’ve said something to him if you felt this bad about everything.

"You know, instead of yelling at me about all of this, why didn't you just talk to me about it in the first place?" he asked, now feeling a bit irritated himself. "If you felt so 'invisible' why didn't you tell me right then and there?".

"Are you really blaming me for this?" you said, looking at him in disbelief. It was unbelievable that he was trying to ignore your feelings, especially when you rarely blew up on him like this so that should tell him that you were really hurt by all of this.

"I never…I never said that," he said while sucking his bottom lip in. "All I'm saying is that we didn't need to have this big argument about it if you just talked to me about how you were feeling before,".

"That still wouldn't change the fact that you forgot about tonight," you snapped, placing your hands on your hips. When your hands touched the smooth, silky fabric of your dress, it seemed to emphasize every curve of your body, catching Joe's gaze for a moment. He felt a flutter of excitement in his stomach as he admired your figure once more, taking in every detail of your stunning appearance a bit closer than he did before. "You still haven't given me a reason," you added.

Joe's frustration was growing as he felt increasingly annoyed by your words, despite his understanding that he had made a mistake. Instead of fixing the issue, your yelling was only aggravating the situation. "You know what? Fine. I forgot. Whoops. My bad," he retorted in a tone that was both monotonous and bratty. He went quiet for a moment, thinking of a devious plan to make you even more annoyed.

But why did he enjoy making you feel irritated? Because he liked seeing you get all hot and bothered because of him. "I forgot because I was having a great time with my friends and lost track of time. I guess they were more interesting than you," he said smugly.

He knew he was being an absolute dick right now, but part of him was having fun watching you get heated over this and wanted to see you get more flustered. “Is it bad that I think she looks hot as fuck right now?” he thought to himself.

"God, your fucking attitude pisses me off sometimes," you yelled. As you shook your head, you couldn't help but feel another wave of anger towards him, even though looking around, you realized that the issue at hand was frankly trivial. It wasn't the specific problem–forgetting about the date–that got to you, but rather the underlying feeling of frustration and disappointment that had built inside of you for the past month. Tonight was just the final blow that tipped you over the edge.

Despite your irritating behavior and petty bickering, Joe was really turned on right now. Something about seeing that fire in your eyes, hearing that fire in your voice just got him going. You were taking charge, and he loved that even if he was pissed that you were arguing with him about something that didn’t need to be this big of a deal. You were putting him in his place and he liked that about you. He liked that you weren’t afraid to call him out on his bullshit.

His eyes traced a slow, calculated path from your legs, to the graceful curves of your body, to the gentle contours of your breasts, then up to the curve of your neck, before finally meeting your captivatingly beautiful face. He couldn't resist the temptation to admire your compelling appearance, making it even more challenging for him to focus on the petty argument you were having. He felt bad that you got all dressed up for a date that wasn’t happening, but he did enjoy seeing your precious cheeks turn red out of anger, seeing your body tense up in a way that was practically begging for him to relieve it.

He licked his plump lips as his eyes flashed to a darker shade of blue before saying, "Then why do you like me so much?".

Your breath caught in your throat as you were trapped by the intense gaze in his eyes. Those dangerous, smoldering, bedroom eyes always seemed to have an irresistible effect on you. The words that followed, said in a tone that ignited a wildfire within you, made you feel an almost overwhelming urge to drop to your knees in front of him. “No, No, No. I’m mad at him. It doesn’t matter how much I would love for him to take away my ability to walk right now. Keep it together,” you thought to yourself, feeling butterflies flutter through your stomach.

You remained quiet and continued to stare at him, watching him raise his eyebrows in the brattiest way possible as a result of how he easily silenced your bitching and moaning and because of how you had absolutely no response for him.

“What’s wrong?” he asked as he leaned over and whispered in your ear, his husky voice sending shivers down your spine. “Cat got your tongue?”.

“I’m not playing this game with you right now,” you rolled your eyes and snapped, starting to back up and walk away before you felt his warm hand wrap around your wrist and pull you right back to him.

A playful smirk danced across his lips as he pulled you into his embrace, immediately planting a trail of soft, teasing kisses along your neck, successfully redirecting your attention.

“Joe,” you whispered, trying to get out of his hold but struggling because of how he was holding you so tightly and pressing kisses all along your neck—your favorite spot to be kissed. “Oh fuck,” you lightly whimpered, feeling him nip and bite at your skin as he wrapped his hand around your neck and gently squeezed it.

“Hm? Why do you like me so much then?” he mumbled as he dropped wet kisses up to your ear. “If I’m such a horrible boyfriend, why don’t you just leave?”.

“Fuck, Joe,” you accidentally moaned, feeling him start to suck on your favorite spot which made a pang of arousal shoot up your spine. “So much for trying to keep it together,” you thought to yourself. “This has to be a massive ego boost for him,”.

It definitely was. He took pride in knowing that he could so easily make you forget about your anger towards him by simply doing what he did best, skillfully and attentively worshiping every inch of your body.

“Hm,” he laughed against you. “I guess that’s why you don’t leave,”

“You’re being a brat,” you said a few seconds later as you threaded your fingers through his frosted tips, pushing his head closer to your neck. Your actions are a complete juxtaposition to the words that came from your mouth. You were mad at him, but you weren’t acting like it. The sounds leaving your lips, your needy touch, it was all the complete opposite of what you were saying.

“No, you’re being a brat,” he said as he moved out of your neck and looked into your firey eyes.

He had some nerve to be calling you a brat right now. You weren’t the one that had been ignoring him tonight or the one that had been brushing him off all month. “Go fuck yourself, Joe,” you spat out, the bitterness evident in your words, but it seemed to have little effect on him.

“How about you fuck me instead?” he boldly said while giving you the same tempting, inviting eyebrow raise again.

“If he looks at me like that again, I swear to god I’m going to end up pregnant. Fuck. Why does he have to look at me like that when I’m trying to be mad at him,” you thought to yourself. Gradually, the intense anger, sadness, and constant irritation towards him turned into strong feelings of fierce desire, urgent need, and passionate emotion.

As you stood face to face, a noticeable tension filled the air, the heat rising as if a fire had been torched between you. His passionate gaze reached into you, sending jolts of electricity through the space. It felt as though he was silently expressing that he had the power to make you forget everything, if only you would allow him to.

And god you wanted him to.

You quickly reduced the space between you both and smashed your lips against his, his hands dropping down to your waist and holding you tightly as a smirk rose on his lips. “Told you. This is why you don’t leave,” he whispered in between the messy kiss as you wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him in closer, completely melting under his fervent touch.

“Shut up,” you smirked as you trailed kisses along his jaw before he pulled your lips back to his, both of your bodies calling each other’s names as you got lost in each other.

He moves his big hands down to your ass, giving each cheek a gentle squeeze before whispering, “Jump,” in between the kiss. You do as he says, jumping and wrapping your legs around his middle as he holds you tightly, walking towards the stairs and taking you straight to the bedroom, all without breaking the restless kiss.

A few minutes later, you’re both naked and lying on the bed as Joe spends a bit more time peppering kisses along your neck, your neediness getting more and more vocal as he refuses to do the thing you actually need him to do.

“Joe, please,” you whimpered as you felt his nose brush against your jaw while he sucked on a spot on your neck, your body squirming under his large frame.

“You can’t be mad at me like that and expect me to give you what you want so easily,” he smirks after he moves from your neck and looks into your eyes with mischievous intent.

“Fuck you,” you scoffed while tilting your head to the side and refusing to look at him.

“Oh you will, all in due time, baby,” he whispered in your ear, then gently lifted you up in a tender embrace and sat down on the edge of the bed.

Straight across from the mirror.

“What’re you doing?” you ask him as he sets you in his lap, both of you facing the mirror.

“You see that, Y/N?” he asks as he points to you in the mirror. “That’s you,” he adds as he continues to look up and starts to press wet kisses around your shoulder. His hand snakes around your waist, rubbing your belly with his long fingers as they start to navigate down to your thigh.

“I know,” you sigh, tilting your head to the side as his kisses get closer to your neck.

“You’re not invisible, baby,” he says as he plants kisses in a path up to your ear as his fingers move down to your core aching core. “You’re right here,” he whispers, a moan escaping your lips as you feel his fingers slide against your wet heat.

“Joe,” you whimper tipping your head back and closing your eyes, the feeling of his hot body underneath you combined with the feeling of his long fingers at the place where you need him the most becoming too much for you.

“I see you, Y/N,” he whispers in your ear, the tip of his cold nose pressed against it. “I always see you, I always hear you. You’re not invisible,” he says before pressing a kiss to the corner of your ear, then pressing his fingers against your sensitive clit.

“Ah, Joe,” you moaned, feeling a jolt of pleasure rip through your body. Before you can move your head back forward to say something, you feel his fingers dip inside your core with no warning, earning another sound of pleasure from your lips. “Fuck,” you moaned as you practically melted into his embrace even more.

His fingers begin to pump in and out of your core, more soft groans and whimpers falling from your lips as he drops slow, hot kisses around your face. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he rasps as he drops his head down to your shoulder again, spending more time cherishing that part of your body.

The sensation of his skillful fingers stretching you out and filling you makes you want to forget about everything that happened. Joe always had the ability to make you forget your worries and tensions in an instant, but this might have been a new record.

“Joe, please…I..,” you whimper, grinding your hips against his as your body begs for more.

"Hmm, it's not that easy, baby," he says with a smirk, his voice oozing with cockiness. You can sense the power he holds over you, and it's clear that he finds it entertaining. He is fully aware of the effect he has on you and revels in it. You hated that he could easily get you like this, but you loved it so fucking much.

His fingers continue to thrust in and out of your core, his touch becoming hotter by the second as you feel yourself inch closer to your release. “You don’t sound like you’re mad at me,” he said as he used his other hand to push your head forward so that you were looking in the mirror again.

“Fuck,” you moaned when you saw his captivating dark blue eyes at the same time as you felt his fingers hit the spot inside of you. “I…I’m so…mad at you,” you struggled to get out, a whimper squeezing in between your words.

“Sure,” he chuckled as he rested his chin on your shoulder, increasing the pace of his fingers.

You watched as his fingers disappeared in and out of your dripping heat, faint sounds of your wetness filling the room as you slowly moved your eyes back up to meet his. The look he had told you a number of things; he was horny as hell (just like you), he was enjoying seeing you struggle like this, and he was genuinely sorry about everything.

The apologetic twinkle in his eyes produced a profound and intense emotion within you, igniting a powerful and overwhelming feeling. He was fully aware of his mistake and this was his way of expressing it to you. “Joe,” you screamed as you felt the band in your stomach tighten, your body gently trembling above him as you felt overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins.

“Look at you, you’re right there, Y/N. Not hidden, not transparent, and certainly not fucking invisible. Especially not to me,” he whispered in your ear, his husky, raspy voice being the final thing you needed to tip right over the edge.

You feel an intense, deep, and warm feeling pool in your belly, you were so so so painfully close. But just to your surprise, Joe suddenly pulls his fingers out of your core, earning a dissatisfied shriek from your lips. “What the fuck, Joe,” you panted, your core pulsing at the tension that was still there, the tension you thought he’d release for you.

“Told you,” he smirked as he looked into your eyes through the mirror. “Not easy,”, a soft kiss landing on your shoulder before you feel yourself being lifted up again, turned around, and pushed down to the bed a little roughly.

“Go. Fuck. Yourself.” you groaned at him a few seconds later, your eyes having that fire in them that he so desperately loved.

“That’s your job, baby,” he winked as he kneeled down on the bed, hovering over you. “But, I’ll be nice for a little bit and help you out,”.

You’re about to open your mouth to say something, but before you can, he smashes his lips against yours and rests the head of his hard cock at the entrance of your core. “You want me to give you attention? Here you go,” he mumbles a few seconds later with a cocky grin, and then you feel him push into you with a roughness that drove you wild.

“Ah, Joe,” a guttural moan escaping your lips as you scrunch your nose, your legs instinctively wrapping around him. He was wasting no time with you, and you loved that.

A jolt of pleasure rips through your body again as he starts to move inside of you, his movements so thorough and intense but rough at the same time. His hand firmly grasps your waist, communicating a sense of possession and intimacy, making it clear to you that you belong entirely to him.

His body was telling you that you weren’t losing him, that you could never lose him. You could never lose him because he would never let you, he’d never let go of you.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he moaned as he felt your hands travel to his hair, gently tugging on the strands as you rested your lips on his neck. He begins to snap his hips against yours hard, every thrust sending you further back into the bed and making you forget about everything that ever bothered you in your entire life.

“Joe…fuck, I’m…,” you panted. “Fuck,” you trailed off.

“I know, baby. I know,” he smiled.

He continues to thrust into you and sets a pace that makes you feel like you’re practically flying through the clouds. It feels euphoric the way he knows exactly how to send your body to its pleasure, almost other-worldly. He was just so good at it.

The way he was worshipping your body, basically fucking the anger out of you was something your brain couldn’t comprehend. He was the only person who was capable of doing this to you, getting you so frustrated, hot, and bothered, and then having you completely and utterly raw the next second–emotionally and physically.

Joe was aware that your anger towards him and his recent behavior stemmed from genuine pain. He deeply regretted causing you this pain and slapped himself mentally, repeatedly, for making you feel invisible, even for a second. You were the center of his galaxy, and he needed you to know that you still were and nothing had changed.

He moves his lips back to yours, capturing them in an intimate kiss that stifles your moans. The delicious feeling of his cock filling you up and his lips against yours is all you could have ever wanted. The way he was moving against you was creating a haze in your brain, almost like a lavender haze.

The haze surrounded you, signaling that you were immersed in a love that consumed every part of you.

Joe consumed every part of you. He was the lavender haze, and you wanted to stay in that haze for as long as humanly possible.

Even though you were mad at him, you couldn’t stay mad at him. He loved you and you knew that, and now he was showing you that he did. This was his way of reassuring you that he was right here with you.

“Baby,” he moaned, feeling himself get lost in the pleasure you were bringing him. “You feel so fucking good,” he groaned.

“Joe, my god,” you whimpered, feeling your already built-up release getting stronger again. “I’m so close,” you whined, feeling him somehow quicken his pace. You looked down at him, watching how he roughly pounded into your wet heat and how his muscular body was glowing in the soft light of your bedroom.

“Cum for me, baby. I know you’re there,” he moaned in your ear before dropping his head to your neck.

“Ah,” you whimper, feeling your body start to tremble again, you were just seconds away from letting go.

One particular hard, well-placed thrust later, you were screaming his name as you pushed your head back into the pillow to brace yourself for your orgasm. You felt like a dam had just burst, and the pressure built against it was finally free. Wave after wave of pleasure rips through your body as Joe keeps hammering into you and each time you feel your high come down, it shoots right back up because of his movements. The feeling of your walls wrapping around him, squeezing and hugging his cock made him smile, almost as much as the sound of his name leaving your lips like a sacred chant.

“Joe,” you whispered, feeling yourself finally come down from your peak. You looked down and saw that he was still moving inside of you, trying to reach his own peak. “Joe,” you said again as you threaded your hands into his hair and lifted his head, “Flip us,”.

He looked at your glossed-over eyes with his tired ones, a dirty smirk forming on his lips at the idea of what you were asking him to do. “Okay,” he winked, wrapping his big hands around your torso and easily flipping you over all in one go. Despite how tired he was physically, he could never be too tired for you.

“He’s so fucking strong. Fucking hell,” you thought to yourself as you straddled his waist, taking in his tousled golden curls, his thick muscular chest which was coated with a thin layer of sweat, and then his large cock–which was practically calling for you.

You grabbed his erection, guiding the tip between your drenched folds as you saw his face contort in pleasure and a hiss leaving his lips–he was close. You lifted your hips from his and sat up on your knees before lining up his cock with your core and sinking straight down onto it. “Oh, fuck,” he moaned as he closed his eyes, his hands landing right on your ass with a light ‘slap’.

You leaned forward and placed your hands on his pecs, sliding up and down his cock at the same pace he was pounding into you. “Yeah,” you whispered as you felt yourself feel a shock of pleasure coarse through your vein, just as Joe felt coursing inside of him.

“Y/N, baby,” he groaned, “You feel so good, fuck,” he said while digging his head back into the pillow, having the time of his life watching you take over and ride him into oblivion.

“I know,” you said to him with a cocky grin which made him raise his eyebrows again, the same way he did earlier.

It was that same bratty, sexy, that made you think ‘get me pregnant right the fuck now’ eyebrow raise.

“Fuck,” you moaned after you saw him raise his eyebrows and his cock hit that spot inside of you.

“That’s my girl,” he grinned, feeling his ego shoot up because even though you were in ‘control’, he was still, actually in control. Especially over you, and it was so obvious.

You continued to slide up and down his length, occasionally moving back and forth as his moans got louder and his grip on you got tighter. His eyes were fixated on your breasts that were bouncing up and down right in his view, his hands were stuck to your ass and were kneading your plush skin, and his hips were starting to thrust up into you.

“I’m close, fuck,” he moaned as he felt your walls tighten around him–you were close too, again.

“O- oh, fuck,” you whimpered while falling forward, your chest pressed against his. “Joe, you’re so fucking…,” you trailed off as a moan interrupted your sentence. “I’m gonna cum,” you whispered against his swollen, plump lips.

“Y- yeah, me too,” he panted, snapping his hips into yours harder. A few seconds later, your bodies moved against each other in perfect harmony for the final time as both of your releases hit at the same time, both of you feeling like your breaths had just been taken away by the intensity of your orgasms.

“Joe,” you screamed, feeling your high hit you again like a ton of bricks, stars filling your eyes as your second release soaked your lower halves as you felt Joe’s cock twitch inside of you.

“Fuck, Y/N…oh my god,” he rasped as he shot hot spurts of cum inside your wet, hot cunt, slowly thrusting whatever came out back into your core. His hands were gripping your hips now, so incredibly tightly that you were sure they would leave a small bruise. You looked down and saw how his nose was scrunched up, how his bottom lip was stuck between his teeth, and how his eyes were filled with love, regret, and admiration towards you.

A couple of minutes later, you were both lying next to each other, trying to catch your breath and make sense of everything that happened in the past hour or so. Joe turned his head to the side to look at you, taking note of how you were biting away at your bottom lip–something you did when you were anxious.

You were in fact anxious. Your argument was bad, and whatever happened on this bed was amazing, but where did it actually get you? Yeah, you were much calmer and in your senses (kind of?) for the most part, but you had hardly talked about the reason you two even got to this point.

Joe, with a mix of feelings, let out a deep, heartfelt sigh. He gently put his arm around your bare shoulder, pulling you close to his warm chest. Amid your overwhelming confusion, he became your safe haven even though he was the reason you were confused in the first place.

You felt the gentle touch of his lips as he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. He then rested his mouth and nose against it, inhaling your natural fragrance. This simple act brought him a unique sense of comfort that no one else, not even his friends, could provide. It was this deep connection that made him realize the need to apologize to you. You were right, you were always right.

“Baby?” he asked you, causing you to look up at him with your tired eyes.

“Y- yeah?” you rasped, your voice scratchy from the activities you were partaking in just a few minutes ago.

“I’m so, and I mean so fucking sorry for what I did,” he sighed. “I really didn’t mean to make you feel invisible or ignored this past month, you don’t deserve that. I’m sorry that I haven’t been giving you the attention you deserve lately, especially because you do so much for me, more than anyone ever has or ever will,” he sniffled, his eyes welling with tears.

“Joe,” you pouted, moving your hand to cup his soft cheek and rubbing your thumb under his eye, seeing how glossy his eyes got all of a sudden. “It’s okay, I promise,”.

“It’s not, Y/N,” he said with another gentle kiss to your forehead. “I told you that you were the center of my galaxy, and you are. I hate that I made you feel like you weren’t anymore, that’s so fucked up. I should’ve talked to you about all of this and shouldn’t have expected you to say something first. I was the one that needed to get myself straight and I’m so sorry that I let things get to this point,”.

You felt his hand moving in gentle, soothing circles on your back, providing a comforting and secure touch. In his arms, your worries and tensions seemed to melt away in two distinct ways: the intimacy you shared in the bedroom, and the reassuring feeling of his current actions.

“I just felt like I was losing you,” you admitted. “I was scared that we were drifting apart and I just-,”.

“No,” he interrupted. “You’re not losing me, baby. You’re never going to lose me,” he softly said as he moved his hands into your hair. “I’m not gonna let that happen, not now and not in 15 years when we’re middle-aged and have two kids running around and are arguing about who has to drive the kids to school the next morning,” he smiled.

A soft chuckle left your lips as you imagined what he was saying, an image of your promising future with Joe filled your mind–and it was oh-so sweet. “Obviously you. I need beauty sleep,” you chuckled.

“Noted,” he smiled as he pulled you closer to him as if you weren’t already stuck to him like glue. He opened his mouth to say something again, and the tone of his voice knew that what he was about to say could easily make you cry, “I don't think I could find the right words to describe the depth of my love for you. What I feel for you overpowers any other emotion I've ever experienced. It's as if my soul has finally found its missing piece in you. I will choose you, again and again, without hesitation. No one else can make me feel the way you do. You mean everything to me. When I look at you, I see my life partner, my best friend, my everything. You have the unique ability to improve every aspect of my life–every laugh becomes brighter, and every tough day feels more manageable because you're there for me. You have given me a type of love that I never thought possible, and I'll forever treasure the way you've positively impacted my life. My love for you is something I'll wholeheartedly protect because no one else will ever have my heart the way you do. From the moment we met, I felt something unique about you. I've never loved anyone the way I love you, and I know I never will. You're my heart, my soul, and the person I want to spend the rest of my life with. No one else will ever come close to producing the feelings I have for you, and I'll always do everything in my power to ensure you feel as cherished and adored as you deserve.” he said while playing with your messy hair.

You felt tears falling from your eyes after he finished talking, you didn’t even realize when you started crying, but you were. “Wait, I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he softly said as he leaned down and cleaned up your tears by placing kisses on each droplet. “I’m sorry, baby,” he said, his softness so adorable and genuine.

“It’s okay, Joey,” you grinned, a few sniffles coming from your nose. “I’m crying because of how much I love you. What you said…that means a lot,”.

“I mean it, Y/N. I’m genuinely so sorry for tonight, for this past month, for all of it. You are always number 1 for me and I need to show you that more from now on. I don’t deserve you at all, but I have you, and I won’t overlook something as valuable as you or not take advantage of the fact that you, this amazingly sweet, sexy, empathetic, down-to-earth, incredibly genuine, kindhearted, funny & sometimes slightly boring…” he started to say before you interrupted him.

“Ouch,” you giggled as you patted his chest, earning a soft chuckle from him.

“...boring but unpredictable, loving, insanely beautiful, and charismatic girl has my heart in her hands,” he finished saying. “I love you, Y/N. I need to do better for you, and from this moment on I will. You deserve to be loved with 150% effort and I’m going to make sure you do. The guys can wait. I’ve spent enough time with them for them to go a couple of weeks, even months without seeing me. It’s you and me now and forever,” he said to you, his soft, loving eyes acting as a mirror to his soul–which showed his genuine and raw intentions and were exactly as he was describing to you.

“I love you, Joe,” you smiled as you felt him brush his lips against your lips before planting a deep, passionate kiss to them.

“Time to get things back on track,” he said a few seconds later, sitting up on the bed and bringing you with him. “It’s too late for our dinner reservation but I’m going to get it shifted to tomorrow. Tonight we’re going to the banks for some stargazing and a late-night picnic. We can pick up some pizza and ice cream from that place by the stadium on our way,” he nodded, talking you through the plan as if he had thought about this deeply, but he didn’t. He was coming up with all this on the fly. “Then tomorrow morning after we wake up, we can go on a little hike in that part by my parent’s house in Athens. It’ll be a drive but we can hike around there since it’s so pretty this time of the year and see my parents, maybe even get lunch with them at our favorite cafe over there before heading back home for dinner tomorrow night. On Sunday, it’s a full lazy day inside. We’re going to stay in our pajamas all day, do a Twilight movie marathon because I remember you saying you want me to watch them with you, order food to the house for lunch and dinner, maybe even bake some cookies or something, and then spend the rest of the day in bed. Preferably with no clothes,” he grinned.

You were left speechless as you looked at him, impressed by how effortlessly he had drafted these plans without considering his own weekend schedule. The sight of him thinking on the spot filled you with affection, and your heart swelled with a mix of emotions.

You leap forward and wrap your arms around his neck as you smother his face with gentle kisses, “I loveeeeee youuuuuuuuu,” you giggle, feeling him wrap his arms around your waist and hearing his soft chuckles in your ear.

“I love you too, baby. You’re the shining force at the center of my galaxy, the light that everything else revolves around. Like the planets drawn to their sun, my life is pulled by your existence, and I know that for us to thrive, our orbit needs to be steady. Every moment with you is a delicate balance of love, trust, and effort–each one keeping us aligned, making sure our world doesn’t drift apart. I’ll protect that balance, making sure that no matter what forces try to interfere, we stay on track, always revolving around the core of what we’ve built together," he says to you, his heartfelt words, his embrace, the genuine look in his eyes all making you fall deeper in love with him.

"This is why I like you so much," you grin as you meet his baby blues, answering his question from earlier.

"What do you mean?" he asks you, licking his lips as he uses his hand to move his hair back.

"I like you because you're the most thoughtful, raw, incredibly well-spoken, smartest, nerdiest, most adorable and manly, genuine person I've ever met in my entire existence. You make me mad sometimes, but you also know exactly how to fix what you did and make everything even better than it was before. You're always making an effort to fix things. Yeah, you can be a dick, asshole, and oblivious idiot sometimes...,".

"Hey!" he gasps, acting like he was offended over what you said.

"But you're my obvious idiot and I love you for everything you are. You love me, like really love me and I know that and you never fail to make me know that. Also because you're like super sexy and I can't get enough of you and that damn eyebrow raise," you giggled.

"Oh, you like that?" he asked, giving you that eyebrow raise again.

"Do that again and we're staying in this bed the rest of the night," you smiled at him and said. "I might even end up pregnant by the end of it,".

Joe was stunned at your words, "Damn, so you really like that," he slowly nodded with a smirk.

"Really may be an understatement. Just know that you don't want to be inside my brain whenever you do that eyebrow raise," you winked. "I don't think we have enough anti-horny spray to get rid of the thoughts in my head,".

"Being perpetually horny is good for the soul, babe. Embrace it," Joe smiled as he leaned in and slowly kissed you in a way that made your toes curl and your body light on fire.

He fell back down against the pillows and brought you down with him. "Joe," you said in between the kiss, "We have to go," you smiled.

"Another round won't hurt," he said while giving you the eyebrow raise again, now knowing what it did to you.

You rolled your eyes, "Fuck, you're going to use that every damn time from now on, aren't you?".

"Maaaybe," he grinned as he brought you back down to his soft lips.

–The End–

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow bengals #joe burrow fic #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow smut #joeburrow #joey burrow #nfl imagine

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drewsarms · 2 days

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introducing ━━⊱⋆⊰━━ ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི dolly!reader ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི

Rafe’s sweetest girl/glam doll!

Pretends be naive. Lacks common sense but is super super book smart. Loves helping anyone or anything that needs it. Loves, loves, loves, loves animals! “Daddy can we have a pet deer?! or a snake or a lamb or cow or bunny or lion or or or-”

Always dressed to the nines!!! (Rafe is the biggest hater she knows and always tells her to go upstairs and find something else because it’s “too short”). Makeup is always on point and beat for the gods. Always has her hair done. Always smells sooo good. Like cotton candy and flowers.

She’s always around Rafe. Always up under him. If you see Rafe you see her (unless he has “business” to attend to). Rafe does literally everything for her. He feeds her. Takes her to the bathroom. Ties her shoes. Puts her heels on for her and carries them when her feet hurt. “I told you not to wear those doll.” Pays for anything and everything she lays her eyes on. & he puts it down so so sooo good

The most spoiled brat you’ve ever encountered. The world revolves around her. “Look. The world isn’t going to stop spinning just because I told you no, alright?” “So….you don’t love me?” Bratty. But she’s the biggest sweetheart. Always, always, always gets what she wants!

The absolute BIGGEST crybaby. If something doesn’t go her way you best believe she’s throwing a fit (slamming doors, ripping clothes, kicking walls, calling Rafe all kinds of names, etc.). Needs rafe for everything. Literally everything. “Daddy! daddy! daaaaaadddyyyyy!!!”

Gets on Rafe’s last nerves. “I’m sick of these little um figures and shit all around my house.” (calico critters. but he doesn’t bother to learn the name because he hates them). “I give you an allowance every week and this is what you spend it on??? Let me guess, all your money is gone, huh?” ——— she will talk his ear off until he either tells her to shut the fuck up (which leads to arguing & the best sex) or he tapes her mouth shut.

Very disobedient towards Rafe and all the stupid rules he makes up for her (not because she doesn’t love him but because she loves when he puts her in her place. she can be a good girl but it’s no fun when Rafe isn’t grabbing her by the neck and slapping her across the face) but is quick to sputter out apologies when rafe is digging her out or giving her a good spanking (she’s not sorry and she’ll do it again just to make Rafe angry!)

Did I mention she’s always horny??!

#dolly notes ໒ྀི #dolly!reader #I basically based her off of me!! she’s so cute love her #au!#dollys mood boards

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morgana-larkin · 2 days

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Alrighty, after many creative blocks coming and going, I finally finished the next chapter of Mine!with Canadian thanksgiving and Halloween coming up, I decided to do a holiday chapter. Also for the few that were wondering their ages, in this fic, it takes place 7 years after season 2, and Melissa is 59 and reader is 34. Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

On another note: the next fic I post will be an Agatha one as inspiration hit after watching the first 2 episodes of Agatha All Along and she’s clearly gay. I’m also aware that I haven’t updated my masterlist with like the last 6 fics I’ve posted, but I’m going to be doing a little reorganization and pretty-ing it up 😉

Mine - Part 8

Warnings: Smut, strong urge to be Mel’s wife (the usual)

Words: 4.5k

*Halloween Day*

“Got to hold still.” You tell Amelia as you’re finishing up her hairstyle for her costume. While you just bought shirts and wigs for the twins and dressed them up as thing 1 and thing 2, Amelia wanted something different.

You showed Amelia Scooby Doo and she chose to go as Daphne, so of course Melissa contacted some people and now Amelia has a great Daphne costume.

While you were helping Amelia get ready, Melissa was downstairs putting the costumes on the twins and getting breakfast ready.

“Do you tink people will know who I’m dressed as?” Amelia asks as you’re putting the headband in and fluffing some of her hair

“Well Mamma found you a great replica so I think they will.” You tell her with a smile. “Alright turn around.” You tell her as her costume is complete. Amelia does a little spin and you giggle. “You make an adorable Daphne, honey.” You tell her.

“Breakfast!” You hear Melissa call from downstairs and you take Amelia’s hand and help her down the stairs.

“Coming Mamma!” Amelia says when you’re halfway down the stairs.

When you and Amelia get to the dinner table to eat, Melissa looks up and immediately has a huge smile. “You both look amazing!” She says as Amelia goes running up to her and sits on her lap. “You look cute, Amore.” She says with a flirtatious tone when you get to the table. She then puts Amelia’s plate right in front of her and Amelia starts eating immediately.

“So do you, Poison Ivy.” You say as you grab the bat that Melissa decorated for you to complete your Harley Quinn costume.

“I am worried though that your lack of clothing will send the wrong message to some people though.” Melissa tells you and you can hear some jealousy seeping through her tone.

“My love, most of the staff and parents know that we’re married.” You tell her and give her a kiss before you all eat your breakfast.

“You could have gone with the full body suit with the hat.” Melissa says as you’re eating.

“The one with the devil looking horns? I like the option I picked.” You tell her. “Love, I don’t think anyone will try and hit on me when they know I’m married to Melissa Schemmenti.” You say and she blushes and smiles at that.

“I guess you have a point.”

“Besides, if they do try.” You start as you pick up the bat. “Then I got this handy dandy bat I can use that my lovely wife taught me how to use on our fourth date.“ You say with a smile and Melissa lets out a little giggle.

“Want me to do your makeup, Amore? Get your face all white and half dead looking.” Melissa says with a smirk.

“Sure, I’d love that.” You tell her and then you all finish your breakfast. “Do you want to finish getting everything ready while I pump before you finish my makeup?” You ask her and she nods.

“Sure thing.” She says and gives you a kiss on the cheek. “Want to get my cheek kiss count before you push me away from doing them all day. Especially when you’re wearing that.” She says and looks at your outfit.

“Think I look sexy as Harley Quinn?” You say with a flirty tone.

“I think you look sexy in this outfit.” She says as she wraps her arms around your waist and gives you a kiss. You were about to say something but then you remember you have to pump or you’ll start leaking.

“Well thanks love but I do have to start pumping.” You say as you give her a quick kiss and then leave the room. You come back in the room to Melissa taking a bunch of pictures of the twins and Amelia. Amelia had no problem posing for pictures for Melissa. You watch the scene for a minute and then you let your presence known and tell Melissa to go stand next to Amelia and the twins to get a picture. Melissa crouches down next to Amelia with the twins on the other side of her and you set your camera up with a timer and take a family Halloween picture.

“Alright I’ll do your makeup quickly now, Amore.” Melissa says to you. “Amelia, why don’t you go do some colouring while I put the finishing touches on Mommy’s costume, alright my little Tesoro?” She says to Amelia which Amelia quickly nods and runs to her colouring books in the living room.

“Alright maybe we should do this in the living room cause last time she coloured without supervision, our walls paid the price.” You say to which Melissa laughs.

“She takes after me that way.” Melissa says with a smile.

40 minutes later and you and Melissa are walking into the break room at Abbott.

“OMG you guys look AMAZING!” Jacob squeals.

From across the room, Melissa can see another teacher checking you out. Melissa wraps an arm around your waist and sends a glare their way.

“Oh damn! Check you out girl!” Ava says as she enters. “You’ll definitely be on my mind today.” She adds and Melissa huffs. She knows Ava likes to tease her that way.

“I’d be better if you refrained from thinking of my wife.” Melissa says with a glare.

“Why Melissa, are you jealous?” You say teasingly. “Although you should all know that Melissa decorated Edith for me for today. So any funny business and your head will meet her today.” You say as you show them the bat.

“Omg! Can I see that! It looks so cool, looks just like her bat in the show.” Jacob says with a huge smile and goes to inspect the bat.

While walking to your classrooms to welcome the kids, you both hear someone do a catcall and look around and see Janine down the hall looking at you both with a huge smile.

At lunch you show everyone the pictures you both took this morning of the kids and the family picture.

“They all look adorable.” Barb says to Melissa as you’re showing the trio.

“They look so cute.” Janine says excitedly.

“Amelia is like a mini me of Melissa.” Jacob says and you turn to look at Melissa who’s looking your way with a smirk.

“Well there’s no denying she’s Melissa’s kid.” You say as you go to sit down next to Melissa.

“Was there any doubt that she was.” Melissa says with a quirked eyebrow.

“A little.” You tell her and she tickles your exposed stomach and you start laughing.

“Little minx.”

“It’s Harley to you.” You say after Melissa stops the tickles, you get Edith out and Melissa bursts out laughing.

When you’re saying goodbye to the kids, a few parents check you out and hit on you and you can feel Melissa’s glare on them.

“I didn’t like having to watch those parents hit on what’s mine.” Melissa says in the car when you’re on the way to the daycare to pick up your kids.

“Well I’m sorry I’m so irresistible.” You say with a smile and Melissa gives you a side eye before shaking her head with a smile.

“You are irresistible.”

“And I’m also yours, so no need to worry about a few parents. You should see it as evidence that they’re jealous that you have me instead of them.” You tell her.

“You’re right, I mean we have 3 kids and we’ve been together for 9 years. And we’re still happy.” She says with a smile and you give her a kiss on the cheek.

“Exactly, so put everyone else out of your mind, it’s time for Amelia to go trick or treating for the first time. And then to steal some candy later on.”

After picking up your kids, you all go home to have supper and then you put jackets on the twins and Amelia.

“But the jacket hides the costume, I don’t want a jacket.” Amelia complains the entire time.

“Ok how about we bring your jacket and when you get cold then you put it on. How’s that sound, Tesoro?” Melissa compromises and Amelia agrees.

You take her out trick or treating around the neighbourhood for a couple hours, with the twins in a stroller, before she says that she’s tired and falls asleep in Melissa’s arms on the way back to the house.

Back at the house, Amelia takes a small nap while you put on a movie while taking turns getting up to give candy out to trick or treaters.

“Oh look at all your costumes!” You hear Melissa say on one of her turns and you get up to go see and stand next to her. “A little shark, a pirate, a princess. You guys look amazing!” She says.

Half an hour later and you're each feeding a twin while Amelia is colouring on the floor. “Mommy! Look what I dew!” Amelia exclaims and you look to see her masterpiece.

“Oh wow, what a lovely heart honey. Why don’t you go hang it on the fridge?” You tell her and she runs to do that.

“How bad was it?” Melissa whispers to you.

“It’s terrible but adorable.” You whisper back with a smile and Melissa chuckles.

“Mamma, if I’m youw Tesowo, then what about the twins?” Amelia asks Melissa after being read a bedtime story.

“Well they’re my sole and Luna.” Melissa tells her. “Which means my sun and moon.

“I’ll always be your Tesowo wight?”

“Of course, forever and always.” Melissa assures her with a fond smile.”

“Which one is the moon and which one is the sun.”

“Well I decided that Nico is the sun as he’s always smiling and giggling. And Caterina is the moon as she has a little devil side to her. Now get to sleep, my little Tesoro.” Melissa says and gives Amelia a kiss on the forehead and tucking her in.

*Thanksgiving*

Amelia is holding on to her stuffy, Teddy, and sitting on the couch, while she watches you guys move around to get ready for thanksgiving dinner at Melissa’s family’s house.

You both go to the kitchen to get the food, and you instruct Amelia to watch the twins. One of the starts crying and when you run out to see what’s going on, you then see Amelia hand her stuffy to Caterina who immediately stops crying. You snap a picture of the moment before going to scoop Caty up in your arms and grab the stuffy from her eyes to give back to Amelia. As soon as you grab it, Caterina starts crying again.

“That was so sweet of you Amelia, and I’ll get Teddy back from her when we get Auntie Mary Camille’s place.” You say and Amelia nods.

“Why is Caty holding Teddy?” Melissa asks when she steps out with a couple bags of containers of food.

“Because Amelia gave it to her when she was crying and now when I try to take it from her, she just cries again.” You say and Melissa smiles at Amelia.

“You’re such a great big sister, my little Tesoro.” Melissa praises Amelia as Amelia smiles proudly.

You get to Mary Camille’s place and both of your families are all over the twins and Amelia. After 20 minutes, it ends up with Amelia playing with some of her cousins, Kristen Marie holding Caty and your mom holding Nico. You and Melissa sit down and let out a breath.

“Is parenting getting to you?” Vinny asks you both and you chuckle while Melissa gives him a hug.

“Getting to us but we love it.” Melissa says as you all sit back down after hugging each other hello.

“I’m very happy for you Mel. I mean my little cousin finally has the little family she’s always wanted.” Vinny says with a smile.

“What are you talking about little cousin, I’m older than you.” Melissa says.

“You may be older but I’m taller.” Vinny says with a smirk, while Melissa lets out a huff and crosses her arms.

“Are you torturing my sister?” Kristen Marie says as she comes to chat with you all. You and Melissa both turn to see that Caty is now being held by Toni.

“Which one?” Vinny jokes.

An hour later and you all get up to go get some food and you chop a little bit of food up on a small plate for Amelia and hand her a small plastic fork and her bottle. You already handed bottles to whoever was holding a twin about 10 minutes ago so they can be fed.

“Alright so before we all eat, I would like for us to go around the table and say what we’re thankful for.” Mary Camille says. “I can start us off. So I am thankful for my husband, my 2 boys and all 8 of my siblings. And also thankful for the rest of our family.” She says and then it’s Melissa’s turn.

“Ok, well I’m very thankful for my wife.” She starts and grabs your hand and looks at you with a smile. “Who gave birth to 3 of the most wonderful children I could ever ask for. And also thankful to my family for all the love and support we’ve gotten.” She finishes, still holding your hand.

“Well I’m also thankful for my beautiful wife and amazing kids. And I’m also thankful for all of you, for taking me in as your family even right as Mel and I just started going out. You all treated me like family right from the start and very grateful for that.” You say and then you both turn to Amelia. “Amelia, honey, do you want to say what you’re thankful for?” And Amelia looks at you confused for a second. “You can be thankful for the people that you love.” You explain to her.

“I’m tankful for my mamma and mommy. And I love my sibwings.” She says and everyone says ‘awww’ at that.

And then everyone at the table goes to say what they’re thankful for and then you all dig in to your meals.

A few hours later you both start to get ready to go home when Amelia falls asleep on you.

“You both can come anytime you want. We love to see you and your children.” Mary Camille says as she hands Caterina to you. Just then your mom comes in and hands Nico to Melissa.

“You can always bring your kids to see me and your father as well.” Your mom tells you. “And as well to see you and Melissa.” She adds on and you shake your head with a smile. “Looks like Amelia might need some help with her shoes.” Your mom says with a chuckle. You all turn and look down and see Amelia asleep on the floor, feet bare.

“Let’s put the twins in the stroller and then I’ll carry Amelia.” Melissa says and you nod in agreement.

When you get home you put the twins to bed while Melissa puts Amelia to bed. You both then flop down on the bed, ready to go to sleep. Melissa turns around and spoons you while you get comfy in her arms.

“Happy thanksgiving Mia Amore.” Melissa says softly in your ear.

“Happy Thanksgiving my love.” You say right back to her. You turn your head around to give her a kiss then you both fall asleep.

*Christmas Day*

“MAMMA! MOMMY! GET UP! GET UP!” Amelia yells while climbing on the bed and starts jumping. “Santa came! I saw presents under the tree!” She yells and sits on Melissa’s stomach.

“Oh, Amelia.” Melissa says, shocked as she wasn’t expecting for Amelia to sit on her.

“I want to open pwesents!” Amelia exclaims and throws her hands in the air, excitedly. Just as she does that, you grab Amelia and pull her off of Melissa.

“How about Mamma can go get the twins and we can go down and arrange the presents.” You suggest and Amelia nods excitedly. You bring her downstairs and read the names off the presents and then hand them to Amelia who was putting them in organised piles. A few minutes later, Melissa comes down with the twins and puts them in their playpen.

“Pwesent time?” Amelia asks excitedly as soon as Melissa joins you both.

“Yep, choose whatever present from your pile and open it.” You tell her and she does just that. While she excitedly tears the wrapping paper off, Melissa puts an arm around your waist after you both sit down on the floor.

“Mommy! It’s the Bawbie doll I saw at the store and I loved it!” Melissa exclaimed excitedly.

“Oh my god! Look at that, it seems Santa really does know everything.” You tell her as you go and look it over with her, pretending you didn’t send the idea to Melissa at the store when you saw Amelia light up at it.

You both watch her open all her presents and even let her open the twins Christmas presents as well. Melissa got a few pictures of her excitement from opening the presents. After she finished then she handed both you and Melissa your own presents and she watched you both open yours.

“Oh amazing! Santa got me a new bat to replace the one that broke!” Melissa exclaims and looks it over thoroughly. “And got the best one too.” She says and sends you a smirk to which you secretly wink at her.

After all the presents are opened then you and Melissa tidy up after getting a garbage bag. “Mamma.” Amelia says and looks at Melissa.

“Yes Tesoro.”

“I have to use the potty.” She says and Melissa gives you the garbage bag and brings Amelia to use the bathroom.

You both started potty training about a year ago and it seems she’s gotten the hang of it but still not quite tall enough to sit on the toilet or reach the sink herself yet.

They come back a few minutes later and you’re putting the twins in their chairs to feed them. Melissa was so excited to start introducing them to foods over the summer. Sometimes you put what Melissa makes in the blender instead of giving them store bought purée food. And to Melissa’s delight, they enjoy her food a lot more.

“For breakfast, how would you feel if I made your favourite frittata?” Melissa asks Amelia.

“No.” Amelia says, and Melissa sees that Amelia has another meal in mind.

“Ok, what do you want for breakfast then?”

“The tiwamisu crepes.” Amelia says excitedly. Melissa made the crepes only a handful of times before. Last time was the morning on the last day of summer.

“Oh, well I can definitely make that for breakfast.” Melissa says with a smile.

Melissa makes the breakfast with Amelia while you feed the twins. After the twins are fed is when Melissa is done cooking as it only takes about 20 minutes until they’re all ready.

You all eat breakfast and then get ready for the Christmas party at your parents house. Once you get there you see that a few of Melissa’s siblings are already there as you see their cars.

“How did Marie get here before we did? She’s usually late?” You ask Melissa who’s just as surprised as you.

“No idea, my only guess would be that Seamus stayed over at her place and hitched a ride with her today. And you know he likes to be on time.” She tells you. Melissa is holding Amelia’s hand while you push the stroller with the twins to the front door.

The door is opened by your mom who immediately bends down and brings Amelia into a hug.

“Hello my dear!” Your mom exclaims.

“Hi grandma!” Amelia says to her.

“Francesca and Liliana are already here if you want to go play with them.” Your mom says to Amelia who bolts to the living room after your mom helps take her shoes off.

“I guess we won’t have to worry about her for the rest of the day.” You joke as you wrap your mom in a hug. “Merry Christmas mom.” You tell her.

“Merry Christmas dear.” Your mom says back to you. “And Merry Christmas to you as well.” Your mom tells Melissa and hugs her.

“Merry Christmas Diane.” Melissa says to your mom.

“Well come in, come in. Many people are already here. Oh and Y/N your cousin Alex is here.”

“No way! I thought he was still in Germany.” You say.

“He was able to come back home for the holidays.” Your mom explains.

You and Melissa go into the living room and there’s about 40 people already there. You both say your hellos to everyone and the twins are already taken by family members.

“As much as I love the kids, I love when we get some time to ourselves without having to worry about them.” You tell Melissa, who gives you a kiss on the forehead and wraps her arm around your waist.

“I feel the same way, Amore.”

When everyone arrives then your mom shouts that it’s present time and all of a sudden, all the kids, including Amelia, comes running into the room.

“Weirdly enough, if we were to shout anything else then they act as if they didn’t hear us.” Mary Camille, who’s right beside you, says to you and Melissa.

“I mean that selective hearing can be tricky.” You tell her and she chuckles.

You all watch the kids open their presents and you rest your head on Melissa’s shoulder as you both are sitting on one of the couches.

“Mommy! Mamma! I got a new paint set! And it’s so big!” Amelia says excitedly as she shows both of you.

After everyone opens their gifts, then everyone gets up to go eat. It’s buffet style to make it easy with so many people. You and Melissa make a plate for yourselves and one for Amelia who’s busy playing with her new toys.

“Amelia, come and eat!” You tell her from one of the couches.

“But I wanna play!” She says and crosses her arms and pouts.

“You can play after you eat.” Melissa tells her.

“I nevew get to do anything I want to do.” She complains and pouts as she makes her way over to you both.

“Awe, my poor baby.” Melissa says and wraps her arms around Amelia and gives her a big dramatic hug.

“Ah! Mamma, wet me go!” Amelia says through giggles.

You all begin to eat and Amelia’s face scrunches up a bit when she’s eating something.

“What’s this Mamma?” She asks Melissa and points to the food on her plate.

“That’s spaghetti, Tesoro.”

“That’s not spe-tti, it tastes nothing like it.” She tells you. Then it hits both of you that the only spaghetti she’s ever had was Melissa’s, who’s only ever made Italian spaghetti.

“It is, just a different kind. Some people make things differently than Mamma does.” You explain to her.

“Well Mamma makes it bettew.” Amelia says as she takes another bite. You then look over at Melissa who’s beaming, from the comment her daughter said about her cooking.

After a few hours, Amelia sprints over to you both and climbs onto Melissa’s lap and lays her head on her chest.

“Getting tired, Tesoro?” Melissa asks her as she strokes her head and Amelia nods. “Alright, we’ll leave in a little bit.”

After you say your goodbyes, and get the twins back from whoever had them, you all leave to go home.

“You know, when we get home, then I wouldn’t mind opening my last present.” You tell Melissa, after checking that all your kids are asleep in the car. Melissa smiles after a second when she figures out what you mean, your seductive tone of voice certainly helped.

After putting the kids to bed, you and Melissa get ready for bed. As soon as Melissa steps out of the bathroom, you ambush her with a kiss.

“Oomph.” Melissa says as she didn’t expect it, but it was certainly welcomed. Melissa lifts you up and brings you both to the bed. Both your clothes are off quickly as you both can’t wait any longer. You were both excited the entire car ride home. The one downside of having kids is you can’t pull over and have spontaneous car sex anymore.

Melissa kisses all over your body before plunging two fingers in you. You moan out when she does and Melissa silents you with a kiss. You both don’t want to wake any of your kids at that moment.

Melissa keeps a steady pace as she fingers you. She wants you both to enjoy this so she goes at a pace that won’t make you cum in 30 seconds. She knows your body like the back of her hand, which is certainly an advantage in many situations, especially sexual situations. You keep moaning and gasping into the kiss as you get closer and closer to an orgasm.

“Come when you need to, baby.” Melissa pulls away to say that then goes right back to kissing you. You gasp into the kiss as you come seconds later and Melissa gently pulls out of you. After not having sex for 2 weeks, that was an intense orgasm. Melissa can tell you’re having trouble moving so she gets an idea as she knows you want to make her cum now. “Just stick out two fingers so I can ride them.” She tells you and you immediately obey. She slides down on your fingers and starts riding them as you watch her. It’s not the first time she’s done this, as she’s extremely good with her fingers, but you love it when she does. The fact that she’s bringing herself that enjoyment with your help, and on top of you, with her breast moving with her, it’s definitely one of your favourite sights. Her mouth then starts hanging open and you can feel her pussy wrap around your fingers tightly and you can tell she’s about to cum. “Omg baby, your fingers feel so good inside of me.”

“And I love having my fingers inside of you, being able to feel you.” You tell her, and at that, she comes. Melissa then flops down on the bed next to you and you’re both breathing heavily.

“Don’t know why you’re breathing hard, I did all the work.” She jokes with you and you chuckle.

“Well the sight took my breath away.” You say to her with a smile.

You then cuddle as she comes down from her high and you both feel very content at that moment. You then look at Melissa as an idea pops in your head.

“What is it Mia Amore?” She asks you.

“How do you feel about getting a puppy?”

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta

@imaginesmultifandoms

@idonothingalldays-blog

@sexysapphicshopowner

@dvrkhcld

@lilfartbox1

@ricejucie

@unicorniusfallapatorius

@a-queen-and-her-throne

@sleep-deprived-athlete

@og-kxsh-420

@sasheemo

@midnight-lestrange

Let me know if you want to be added!

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x oc #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti #x reader #fanfic #lisa ann walter #law #abbott elementary

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youzicha · 3 days

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Simulacra, Simulation, and Girls' Generation

That take that "anime girls don’t correspond to anything" reminded me of one of my own pet theories, which is that the same is true about Kpop groups.

Groups like Girls' Generation are like the opposite of American singer-songwriters. The singer-songwriter's core value is authenticity. Their songs are taken to be autobiographical, and to be valuable because they are a true description of the emotions that the songwriter felt. The singer-writer must be a single person so we can be sure that nobody has tampered with the depiction before it reaches us. This is Baudrillard's "first order" image, we in the audience should believe that the song is "the reflection of a profound reality".

With the kpop groups, what we enjoy is that the song does not represent any underlying reality. Each music video is the impersonal product of songwriters, producers, choreographers, stylists, video directors, etc. Rather than a spontaneous expression, you can see the moves being developed in the behind-the-scenes dance practice videos. The online discourse emphasizes the role of the entertainment agency (e.g. SM Entertainment): the group members themselves do not have "agency" so we can be confident that their own emotions didn't make it into the love songs they sing.

youtube

Let’s look at the music video for Oh! (2010) to see how this plays out. It's like a game of dress-up, showing off two different cheerleader uniforms. Argumate once wrote that Girls' Generation perform "a detailed sequence of dance moves that are very 'sexy', i.e. strongly coded as suggesting sexiness without necessarily being sexy-without-quotes", and I think we can say something similar about cheerleader outfits. They are not there to convey a message or story (and as if to stress the arbitrariness, the last few seconds of the video show the girls dressed in a completely different "strong woman" style, to tease the upcoming next look). Rather, the "sexy cheerleader" is itself a stylized, free-floating signifier to be quoted. "The whole system becomes weightless … an uninterrupted circuit without reference or circumference." (Although I believe it is still possible to overcome the ironic stance.)

So far everything is straightforward, but now consider the lyrics:

Oppa please see me, please look at me It's the first time I talk like this (ha!) I did my hair and I did my makeup too But why is it only you who doesn't know? […] Don't think of me just like a little sister You might regret that after a year

I claim that this also works in the opposite direction to the normal mode of storytelling. When creating a movie or play, the auteur-director starts with an idea or a story, and then casts actors to best represent his vision. Or, if that is not what it in fact took place, it is still the convention the viewer is supposed to apply to interpret the work. But with an idol music video, the starting point is the singer, who already has a fanbase. "Please see me, please look at me"—well, we already were. (This is not the only Girls' Generation song about looking at the idol, by the way, compare e.g. The Boys, which begins "I can tell you're looking at me / I know what you see".)

Given the opposite starting point, the representational function of the lyrics changes correspondingly. Rather than focusing on the new fictional person who emerges ex nihilo, the fan's attention is still on the singer, and the "little sister" character is yet another stock signifier for them to bring out and put on, much like the uniform. The function of the story is erasure: there was in fact a hairdresser and a makeup artist who styled Yuri, but instead we're invited to project a different fantasy over her. The effect is to further stress the unreality of all the symbols involved.

youtube

With this in mind, I think one Girls' Generation song has a really interesting concept for the lyrics. In Paparazzi (2012) the idol looks out across the crowds, spots a photographer who is trying to be discreet, and speaks directly to him: "shall I give you a better photo? let's be friendly, after all aren't we allies?"

It re-establishes the inauthenticity and unreality of the idol! As time goes by, pesky reality intrudes. People will follow the individual group members devotedly, and there are paparazzi images of them. Members will capitalize on their fame through individual brand endorsement deals. There is the perennial problem of girl group girls getting boyfriends, jarringly peeking out as an actual human being from behind the illusion. Or in the extreme case they can even use their new independent existence to leave the group.

In Paparazzi, those candid photos are re-imagined as performance. And furthermore, just like in Oh! we are invited to imagine a fictional character speaking directly to us. But in this case the character is superimposed not just over the image from the music video, but also over all the already existing photos. The actual person of the idol is crowded out by the fantasy…

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evansbby · 7 months

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#I cannot hate at all y’all alba baptista looked really good at the Oscar’s after party l #like whoever is styling her always puts her in really nice dresses #and I literally can’t lie she looked really good #I mean ofc I always thought she was pretty but the videos from last night she looks…. extra good #like hair makeup dress everything so on point #chris evan looks fine too I guess #but like why red 😭😭😭#unpopular opinion but I’m not a huge fan of men doing the most on the red carpet #like just slap on a well tailored neutral coloured suit and be done with it #anyways

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einaudis · 11 months

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There's something about people getting married that makes me want to have a wedding.

#not getting married I don't want to get married #I just want the pretty dress and the all night party #dancing with someone who looks at me like I'm everything to them #just that #it seems so cool and lovely #and of course people who love you enjoying a good party with you #but aha all my friends left the country and most of my family did it as well #so not many people to party with #but do you get my point??????????#like I love the whole process of getting ready the hair and makeup the dress reveal the pics #let's skip the ceremony and go straight to the party #oh and the food #random #personal #my shitty English

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yummymitzy · 2 months

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It means everything to me.

Summary: The team decides to play a truth or dare game to end the night after one of Tony’s parties. Throughout the game, reader felt eyes on her, but she doesn’t know that they came from a certain redhead. Would something grow between them once the night falls?

Warnings: G!P Nat, SMUT, hair-pulling, back shots against door, spanking, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, Nat jus bein rough n jealous, 18+ MINORS DNI

WC: 3,154

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Rogers!Reader

————♡————

Stark parties at the compound were so very often hosted, it could have been for any occasion. As long as Tony thought it was a good time to celebrate, he’d host a party for that night. Today just happened to be one of those nights.

You, your brother Steve, Bucky, and Wanda were sent out on a mission four days ago. You four came back to the compound and deemed the mission successful, which made Tony practically jump up and exclaim that he’d host a party for tonight for another mission gone well.

You were definitely a party person, the life of a party whether you were drunk or not. But goddamn? The last party the team hosted felt like yesterday to you, when it was actually last week, but that was still close enough right?

As of right now, you were getting ready for his party, as you take a quick glance at your phone, it was 5:45 and the party was at six, so you definitely had enough time to be ready by then. You set down your phone as you went straight to your closet, your makeup already done.

After rummaging through your dresses, it took you a few minutes before you came across your dress of the night and put it on. It was a backless maroon dress with a slit that went dangerously high on your upper thigh, the back of the dress incredibly accentuated your ass to which you appreciated.

Overall it was a great dress, who were you going to impress? You weren’t sure but you had an idea though. You strolled out of your closet and heard a knock echo through your bedroom, making you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. You still had way more time you wondered as you went to open the door.

There stood Bucky clad in a dark blue suit, hand still raised in the air as if he was going to open the door. Regaining his composure instantly, he drops the hand and leans against your doorway.

“You clean up nice, Buck. Didn’t think you still knew how to groom yourself with all that time you were up in the ice.” You tease lightly as you step back from your door and heading over to your vanity, putting in shiny gold earrings to complement the red.

“Hey… Don’t get used to it though.” He acts slightly hurt before switching to a joking manner. “But do hurry up, doll. At this point the party will be waiting up on you.”

“I’m done, was just putting in earrings. Now cmon, I need a drink.” You slip on your red bottomed heels and brush past Bucky as you head down the corridor of the elevator, laughing slightly as he tries to catch up before the doors close.

As soon as the elevators open to where the party was being held, you went straight to the bar, in desperate need for a drink. Your eyes widen slightly before you smirk, realizing that Natasha had been put on bar duty.

Natasha was glammed up, hair curled down to her back, a long fitted emerald dress that showed off all her curves, it ran down to her knees and glimmered in the light. Her bright red lipstick complimenting it as she also has on some emerald earrings.

You approach the bar, surprised Natasha hadn’t caught sight of you yet, until you stood right in front of her eyes, smirking.

“Hey Nat, what got you doing bar duty tonight?” You lean against the bar counter, your arms crossed. The action making Natasha stare down at your breasts hungrily before she snaps her attention back onto you.

The thing was that you and Nat had this thing going on, where you’d both go back and forth with trying to flirt with each other. You never knew when exactly it started, Nat just started calling you pet names and being more touchy one day.

But what she didn’t know was that the game got real on your side. You didn’t know what changed but you started becoming more flustered with her advances and even started blushing, something you never did. Until you realized, you liked her.

It had come a shock to you at first but as time passed, you came to terms with it and just played along with Natasha. It wasn’t like she liked you back, you doubt it, hell she might even be cuddling it up with Bruce.

“Fella did me wrong.”

“You got a real weird taste when it comes to your people Nat.” You laugh as you sat upon one of the many stools in front of the counter.

“It’s not all bad, and my taste in people are quite immaculate if you asked me, Y/n” She raised an eyebrow as she prepared your usual whiskey neat, before sliding it over to you as you laugh.

“Alright, alright, I’ll catch you later, Red” You stood up, your whiskey in hand as you go out to the couches and plopped yourself right next to Sam.

————♡————

You had completely lost track of what time it was, the party was long over and the after party had just started.

You were sat in between Sam and Bucky with Tony on the far side of the couch. Across from you had been Bruce Natasha and Clint, while to the couch on the right of you was Wanda, Vision. The couch left of you consisted of Tony, Thor, and Steve.

The team was so drunk they could barely uphold their conversations with one another. Thats how bad it was, and it was embarrassing that you were especially drunk too.

Soon after, Tony stood up from his side of the couch and stepped forward while raising both of his arms. He proposed a game of truth or dare, refuse to do it, you take a shot. Your lips curled up into a smirk, you honestly couldn’t tell if you were too drunk or not but you did know that you wanted to play.

After hearing the majority of the team agree, Tony had prepared a line of shots, just enough for the first few people before starting off the game.

“Truth or dare, Capsicle.” Tony stared at Steve, a smug smirk planted on his face as he awaits Steves answer.

“Truth.”

“Is it true that Bucky was the cause of those “mosquito bites” when you came out to breakfast the other day?”

Bucky shifted in his seat at the mention of his name which made you shake in laughter as he playfully smacks your arm, catching the eye of Natasha.

“Yes.” Steve admitted, his face flushing a deep color of red as he leans back into the couch, before regaining his composure and picking his victim. “Wanda, Truth or dare?”

“Dare.” She raised an eyebrow as a slight smirk plays on her face.

“I dare you to give somebody in this room a lapdance. EXCEPT Vision.” Making Wanda widen her eyes slightly as she turns her head to look at Vision, to which he nods in confirmation, letting her know its alright.

Wanda stands from her seat, slightly surveying the area before her eyes land on Sam, she approaches you with a torturously slow walk as she pretends to walk to Sam, before snapping her head to you and finding her place on your lap.

Your eyes widen in shock as Tony tells Friday to dim the lights and play a song. You didn’t know what song it was, you were hyper focused with Wanda on your lap. You thought she was going to pick Sam, why you?

Across from you sat Natasha, you noticed she was fuming in her seat as she watched Wanda’s little show. Her knuckles turned white due to her deathly grip on the couch while a scowl was firmly planted on her face. If Natasha had been put into a cartoon, she would have definitely had smoke coming out of her ears.

Natasha was on her last straw when it came to the dance, all she wanted to do was stand up and rip Wanda off of you and take you for herself. As soon as she brushed away those thoughts, Wanda’s dance had already ended. But what she didn’t see was you sighing in relief after she retreated to her seat.

————♡————

You and the team got a few more rounds in and this round ended up having Natasha as the victim.

“Truth or dare, Natasha.” Clint said as he bites his cheek to compose himself for her answer.

“Dare, arrowboy.” She smirks as she turns her whole body to face Clint as he begins cackling.

“Swap clothes with the person you find most attractive in this room.” He grins, visibly proud at his dare.

Natasha stands wondering her next move as she looks towards Wanda, her best friend. “Just go for it, whats the worst that could happen.” Wanda says in her head while she subtly nods her head towards you.

Natasha thought it over once more before she strutted straight to you, her hips swaying as she walked, practically hypnotizing you. She held out a hand in your direction, her eyes meeting yours as they held an unspoken gentleness.

You took her hand as you lifted yourself up off the couch, you never realized how drunk you were until you were on your feet. You were slightly swaying as you tried to regain your balance, which was quick with the help of Natasha as she supported you with her other hand wrapped around your waist.

As you regained your balance, you noticed that you still were holding hands with her but you don’t find it in yourself to point it out. You move to take Natasha to another room nearby, her following behind you close by.

Once you both stumbled into an empty room, that was when you sobered up a little, but Natasha seemed drunker than ever.

“Are you sure you still want to do the dare? I could get Wanda to take you to your room.” You whisper, as you look up to meet Natashas gaze.

You saw something change in Natasha’s eyes, from a drunken look to what you think is hunger?

The emotions that were brewing up within Natasha during the lapdance burst out of her as she shoved you against the door of the room, trapping your body between her and the door.

“Nat!” You yelp, not expecting a reaction like this from Natasha.

“Ya know, I didn’t really like how Wanda was just grinding up on you..” She husks, her face inching towards yours as your gazes to each other never faltered. You can feel her hand hovering over your waist, soon stopping to rest there on the curve of your hips.

“But you wouldn’t really mind that would you, huh?” She smirked as she buried her head into your neck and kissing it slightly, leaving back bright red lipstick marks, she had also left some hickeys unbeknownst to you.

You sigh, leaning into her touch unknowingly and running your hands through her fiery hair before you pull her up gently and crash your lips onto hers.

Natasha’s lips were as soft like they looked, you could have honestly gotten obsessed with them right then and there. You deepened the kiss as one of your hands slid down to her waist to pull her impossibly closer.

You were so focused on Natasha’s lips kissing you that you didn’t feel a hard bulge pressing up against your upper thigh. But soon enough was when Natasha started getting slightly desperate, subtly grinding against you as you felt the bulge become more insistent.

That was when you pulled away, slightly concerned. “Are you sure, Nat? You’re drunker than I am.” You ask, your eyes flickering between hers and her lips.

“Yes baby, I’m sure. Plus I was at the bar handing out drinks, not downing shots with you and Wanda.” She whispered, her attitude rising with the added mention of Wanda. Her teeth grazing the skin of your neck as she nips at it before she pulls away entirely, making you whine.

“Awe detka, so desperate already? Did you get so desperate because of Wanda?” She snarled, as she flips you around by your hips, pushing your face into the door as she kept a deathly grip on you.

“Mphm! No, Nat. It’s all you.” Your voice is muffled against the door as she sternly keeps you pinned there. Your hands flat on the door to keep you stabilized as Natasha starts grinding her clothed bulge on you.

“Damn right it is.” She mumbled as she gave a harsh slap to your ass making you jolt forward into the door as you yelp. Before she continues grinding up on you.

Soon enough, Natasha reaches over to your front and over to your breasts as she gave them a quick squeeze before she trailed her hands to the straps of your dress. You peeled your hands away from the door to allow Natasha to practically rip the dress off of you.

The sight of you braless with a lacy red thong might as well make Natasha drool as her hands went straight to your ass, massaging the flesh and pulling a quiet whimper from you.

With quick efficiency, her dress was off in the blink of an eye, her boxers had an insanely large tent forming, to which you could already assume was by you.

She takes off her boxers as quickly as her dress as she positions herself behind you on the door. Leaning down, her hands find themselves on your waist as her lips find the shell of your ear, her cock just centimeters away from your dripping heat as her breasts press against your back.

“I can tell you want this as much as I do, detka. You’re practically leaking onto the floor.” She husks into your ear, she doesn’t wait for an answer as she stands up straight and slams her cock into your wet cunt making you press your cheek against the door as you moan out.

Natasha begins to pound herself into you, the sound of skin slapping, your moans, and Natasha’s grunts echo the quiet room as she ruts into your tight cunt.

“You’re so fucking tight, detka. Я не могу насытиться тобой. (I can’t get enough of you.)”She growls as she lifts her hand from your waist to pull at your hair, pulling you up to meet her front, her breasts brushing against your back once more as your back completely arches.

The new position allowed Natasha’s cock to thrust even deeper into your cunt, her thrusts were powerful, each movement drove you up the door trembling with pleasure.

She started pounding up into you at a more intense pace, making you moan in shock, the action making you push back against her cock. Her hand that wasn’t in your hair lifted from your hip, and came down on your ass once again, sending a hard slap to it as she massaged the flesh immediately after.

“Ah! Fuck!!” You cried, the pleasure was too much to even suppress your moans as you kept pushing your hips back to meet Natasha’s relentless pace. “Oh, please Nat!!” You scream as she drove into you.

“Nat, I’m gon..gonna cum, please can I cum.” You begged, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as Natasha fucked you dumb.

“Go ahead and cum, baby.”

To which you complied, your release had been intense but yet so full of pleasure. You trembled at reaching your climax, but to your surprise. Natasha kept rutting her cock into you as her thrusts got more and more sloppy as the seconds passed, her grunts turning into whines.

“One more baby, just for me, c’mon. I know you’ve got another in you, please.” She pleaded as her thrusts grew more sloppier as she leaned her head down into your neck, placing delicate kisses on it as she tries to muffle her whimpers.

You give her a loud moan in response, the overstimulation soon turning into overwhelming pleasure as you feel your second orgasm of the night building up in your lower belly.

“Fuck..Im gonna cum detka. I can feel you clenching around me,” She babbled slightly, her red hair fluttering over the expanse of your back as she sets a faster pace for her relentless pounding, now nibbling on your neck to prevent her moans from spilling, her hand gliding in front of you as it frantically rubs at your clit.

“Fuck!!” “Cmon baby, cum, cum on my cock.” You and Natasha cried out as you reached your second climax of the night, your tight cunt clenching impossibly more around her shaft as your juices flow out of your pussy.

The action made Natasha cum directly after you, the clenching of your soft velvety walls around her dick made her burst her seed into your womb as she let out a loud moan into the juncture of your neck.

Natasha waited a minute before pulling out slowly, the overstimulation strong as she trembled slightly. She knew you were terribly overstimulated too with the way your legs were shaking.

She watched as the both of your combined juices leak out of your cunt, a little bit of it landing on the floor as she fingered it back into you, making you moan once more.

You rested your forehead against the door in front of you before slowly turning around to face Natasha, all while still leaning on the door. Natasha had always been a beautiful sight, especially now.

Her hair was slightly tousled up, her cheeks were flushed a deep shade of red, her lips were smudged off of her lipstick, and her eyes held a deep softness and slight lust in them. You could always get lost in Natasha’s gorgeous eyes any day.

“Natasha, I just want to ask if this will mean anything to you. I wouldn’t want to have you like this with it not meaning anything.” You ask in a soft whisper, afraid of hearing the answer you dreaded the most.

Natasha saw the genuine sadness in your eyes as you whispered the question, the sight made her heart crack. It took her a second to respond as she gathered her words.

“I’ve loved you ever since Steve showed up with you in the living room. I always hoped that you returned those feelings I had for you. What happened between us right now, means everything to me, Y/n.” Natasha spoke softly, as if she were going to break a porcelain doll if she was any louder.

“I love you too, Nat. So much” You admit, walking up to Natasha and instantly closing the distance between you both. The kiss wasn’t lust filled at all, it was full of love and passion, something that you and Natasha always had for each other.

#natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha smut #natasha x reader #natasha romanov #marvel #the avengers #black widow x reader #mcu #natalia romanova #black widow smut

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darknight3904 · 10 months

Text

All Yours, Coryo

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪:ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜꜱ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴄʜɪʟᴅʜᴏᴏᴅꜱ ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ ᴀꜱ ʜᴇ ʙʀɪɴɢꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀ ᴡʜᴏʟᴇ ɴᴇᴡ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ꜰɪʟʟᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅᴛʜɪʀꜱᴛʏ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ᴀᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴛᴜʀɴ.

ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ ʜᴇʀᴇ.

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ʀᴇꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴄᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇx. ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴏꜱꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ɴᴀɪᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴡʜᴏ ʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ɪꜱ. ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ʙʟɪɴᴅᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ'ꜱ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ ꜰᴀᴄᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴀɴɪᴘᴜʟᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ ꜱᴏ ꜱʜᴇ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ꜱᴇᴇ ᴀʟʟ ʜɪꜱ ʀᴇᴅ ꜰʟᴀɢꜱ. ꜱᴏ ᴀᴍ ɪ.

ɪ ᴀᴄᴄɪᴅᴇɴᴛʟʏ ʜɪᴛ ᴘᴏꜱᴛ ᴏɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʏᴇꜱᴛᴇʀᴅᴀʏ ɪɴꜱᴛᴇᴀᴅ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴀᴠᴇ ꜱᴏ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴀᴡ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴇᴀʀʟɪᴇʀ, ɴᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ.

ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴏʀᴇ.

Coriolanus has never been the easiest person to understand. His mind was always racing and it kept you on your toes. Even now as he fretted over his appearance in the mirror you could tell his mind was thinking of a million things beyond whether or not his tie fit him correctly.

"For what it's worth, I think you look perfect." You say, sipping at your drink, you had been ready for nearly twenty minutes while Coriolanus was still figuring out what tie matched his pants best.

"I'm sure you do but this isn't just any party, I'm campaigning tonight and everything must be perfect." He says adjusting his hair even though it already sat perfectly styled atop his head.

It was Coriolanus' 23rd birthday and instead of celebrating like you usually did, you were both spending it at a party full of people who might help him reach the presidency by the beginning of next year. You approach him and wrap your arms around him, resting your chin on his shoulder.

"It will be." You assure, pressing a kiss to his exposed neck where his makeup artist did a wonderful job at covering the marks you had left behind last night.

"If all goes well tonight, you might just become the first lady of Panem one day." He smiles at you through the mirror

"Does that mean we're getting married?" You laugh, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat at the idea of being with him forever

"Maybe..." Coriolanus says suddenly avoiding your eyes as his face reddens under your gaze.

You giggle at your boyfriend's flustered face, despite how grown up he had become in the past few years he was still the same boy you met at the academy all those years ago who just wanted his own bowl of fruit to gobble down.

"You definitely wanna marry me, Coryo!" You say almost as if you had discovered a secret of his.

"Well if you're not interested I can always find another." He jests, finally tying his tie.

"Oh please, I'm the only one who could ever tolerate you." You smile as he spins around to face you and rests his hands on your hips

"That you are, darling, that you are." He smiles and presses a chaste kiss to your lips

Coriolanus is sure you are his favorite person in the entire world. From the way you'd laugh at his jokes to the way your nose whistled when you slept, he loved it all. Even now as the two of you had long abandoned your teenage years and stepped into adulthood, he knew he didn't want to lose you. His interactions with Lucy Gray and his time in District 12 had only solidified how he wanted you to stay close to him. He watches as you cross the room to slip into a pair of pretty high heels, he loved the way your dress sat on your body, it was perfectly fitted and he wondered what designer had been able to craft it so perfectly.

He looked back at the mirror and pretended to fiddle with his outfit again even though he knew he looked perfect. Instead, his eyes cast to the small table next to the mirror where a collection of photos sat you and him over the past five years. His favorite though was the one that was taken at your 17th birthday party. He remembered how warm it had been, and at one point someone had filled a bucket of water and tossed at you. He had expected you to cry out and push everyone out of your home but instead, he was met with your laughter and thus a water fight had begun. The picture of the two of you had been taken not even twenty minutes later, both of you were drenched but happy and you had linked your arms together right before the picture was taken. Sometimes he wished to go back to those moments, to relieve the last bits of his boyhood even though it meant going back to that decrepit building he once lived in and the taste of cabbage a constant on his tongue.

"Thinking about the past?" You ask from across the room.

"Thinking about how ugly we look here." He says picking up the photo

"Nonsense, we're adorable in that. If I remember correctly that was taken a few weeks before you tripped me in my room trying to slow dance and then you gave me the kiss of a lifetime." You smile

"I didn't trip you, you tripped me with your bad dancing." He laughed, returning the photo to its proper place among the others.

"Whatever you say, Coryo." You smiled, he could tell you didn't believe one word that came from his mouth about the tripping incident.

These parties were always a bit tedious for you. You enjoyed seeing Coriolanus happy among Capitol elites and you loved the lavish dresses you got to wear but sometimes it became overwhelming. The sheer amount of reporters that were always at these things is what drove you crazy. Coriolanus ate the attention up and answered all their questions about how he'd change Panem for the better but you were usually left answering questions about what your dress was made of or what your relationship was with Coriolanus. He often assured you that once he won the presidency he'd have more control over what was asked and that you'd never have to answer another dress question again. You hoped he won as soon as possible, it was tiring pretending this line of questioning was interesting.

"Is that real gold on your sleeves?"

"Is that ring on your finger an engagement ring?"

"Who did your hair for the evening?"

"Are you going to have the future president's children?"

"Did you seduce Coriolanus Snow for power in the Capitol?"

"How many toes do you have?"

God you wished they'd all shut up, or at least get better questions. Even just something as small as your involvement with your father's company would've been better than this. You ignored whatever trash was coming from their mouths and held on to Coriolanus' arm like he was going to disappear and end up back in District 12 again.

You remembered that day very well, after Coriolanus' tribute had won he had just disappeared despite promising to walk you home after the games had ended. When he didn't show up for graduation either, you found yourself outside Tigris and Grandma'am's new residence looking for answers. Tigris had told you what happened with him and that girl, Lucy Gray, how he cheated with rat poison and a handkerchief of his father's. At first, you had been distraught that he was sent off to District 12, stuck there for twenty years as some peacekeeping grunt, you'd be an ugly middle-aged woman by the time he got back! You had been in the pits of despair about your relationship with him but all it took was one terrifying meeting with Dr. Gaul to change your attitude. Once she revealed that Coriolanus would be back in the Capitol soon, and she was simply testing his dedication to the games, you relaxed. While Dr. Gaul might not have all her marbles you knew she wasn't lying, and sure enough, your Coriolanus returned to you in a matter of weeks.

However, he returned to you differently though. Sure, his head was shaved like all Peacekeepers and the curls you loved to play with were gone, but his attitude had also changed. Perhaps it was that Songbird he never wanted to speak of even now. You could never quite place what happened between Coriolanus and her, all that mattered to you was that he had assured you it wasn't romantic. Just shared ambitions to both win something. In her case her life and in his the Plinth Prize, not that that went well for her since she had disappeared shortly after she went home. You weren't quite sure what to make of Lucy Gray, the mysterious Songbird who had enchanted all of Panem just five years ago. You had only spoken to her once and it was just to compliment her singing during her interview. She hadn't exactly impressed you with her in that moment but she must have impressed Coriolanus at some point if he was willing to break rules for her.

Or perhaps his change was due to whatever training Peacekeepers went through and the death of Sejanus that had rocked the entire Capitol when he was revealed as a traitor, you knew Coriolanus had been close to him. Of course, despite all his changes and attitude adjustments, he never applied them to you. So, here you stayed by his side, happy that he still loved you the same. Soft touches and sweet words remained constant as the two of you aged and explored the advantages of adulthood. One of your favorite things about being 23 was moving out of your family's home and into the penthouse Coriolanus had chosen for the two of you. Waking up next to Coriolanus each day and seeing how he looked before his eyes fluttered open had to be your favorite part of the days you spent together. Brushing his hair from his eyes and counting the freckles that just barely brushed his pale skin was something you did daily until his pretty blue eyes met yours again. Once he did wake though, it was hard to get him to stay in bed with you. His peaceful state was always replaced with a man who was always working towards something, ambition was always fueling him.

You didn't mind his rough exterior that emerged each morning though, Coriolanus was cold and hard on everyone but you. Perhaps it was your shared childhood memories and teenage romance that prevented him from treating you coldly like he did poor Tigris but you weren't sure. One thing you did know was that the boy you grew up with was gone and a man stood in his place, brooding and cold to everyone but you.

"I'm going to get us a drink and then if you want we can dance." He whispered in your ear

"Can you get me that fizzy lemon drink they usually serve?" You ask

"Of course, I'll bring you some of those hors d'oeuvres you like with the cheese as well."

And then, he was gone from your side moving expertly through the crowd. That dazzling blonde hair accompanied by the broadest shoulders you've ever seen on a man disappeared among the throngs of people craning their necks to get a better look at the future president and his pretty face.

"A true marvel isn't he?" a voice to your right said

You turned to be met by none other than Lucky Flickerman, a drink in one hand and a young child's hand grasped in the other.

"I'm not interested in doing an interview, Lucky. If you want information on Coryo you can ask him yourself." You say, ready to walk away from the Capitol's favorite news anchor turned Hunger Games host.

"Coryo...what an interesting nickname, a bit childish for a man who might watch over us all soon. No matter, I would however absolutely love to report on you one day and maybe even that big business you're the heiress of, but I'm actually talking to you for this little one tonight." Lucky smiles motioning to the boy who you guessed was his son. "He was admiring that stunning dress of yours and I thought he might want to see it up close and personal."

For once you didn't mind being asked about your clothes as you crouched down to the little boy's height, he couldn't be more than 5 or 6.

"You have a good eye, would you like to feel the fabric? The designer I met with made it wonderfully soft." You smile, thinking of how Tigris had gushed over the blood-red fabric that would perfectly match Coriolanus' suit with you just weeks ago.

The boy reaches his hand out and brushes it along expensive fabric and a smile grows on his face.

"What's your name?" You ask

"Caesar." He says "I just turned 6 last week."

"Well, Caesar, six is a marvelous age to be, you can do all sorts of things at six. In fact, when I turned six I learned to ride a bicycle for the first time, I did however scrape my knees half a million times. I even still have a few scars on my knees would you like to see them?." You smile at him and he nods.

"Lucky Flickerman, I thought I told your producers that you weren't allowed to bother her with your idiotic questions the way the other reporters do. You clearly don't value your job, if you did you would have listened to my words." Coriolanus' voice suddenly fills your ears as you quickly right yourself, remembering how he once told you you'd have to start holding yourself with more decorum at these events. 'No more acting like a stupid teenager' had been his exact words one night when you were eating dinner together in your shared room.

"It's fine, his son wanted to say hello." You smile down at Caesar, take your lemon drink, and pop some of the food Coriolanus brought with him into your mouth. You sincerely hoped that you weren't about to witness Lucky being fired by the newest mastermind behind The Hunger Games and future the president.

From the corner of your eye, you see Coriolanus cast an intimidating look down at the boy and you resist the urge to elbow him in the ribs and force him to apologize to the poor child who was now cowering behind his father's stylish pant leg.

"I'll see you later, Lucky. We are going to go dancing now." Coriolanus says setting your barely sipped drink and food on a tray of a passing server before whisking you away.

"You're bad with children, Coryo." You say as he leads you towards the dance floor.

"And you're bad at reading people, darling." He says, ignoring the way you pouted at your loss of lemon drink and cheese-sprinkled food.

"What do you mean?" You ask, confused

"Lucky just wanted to get you to answer questions about me," Coriolanus says as he leads you in a dance, the both of you had gotten exceptionally better since your failure at 17 in your childhood bedroom.

"Oh." You say, a bit sad that he wasn't genuinely interested in you, just another dumb reporter who wanted news on Coriolanus' next move. It was amazing how Coriolanus always knew what others were thinking and how to approach a situation best.

"It's alright, just ignore him next time," Coriolanus says, gently squeezing your waist as a form of reassurance.

You nod and rest your head on his shoulder as you spin around the dance floor, suddenly wishing you were tangled up in bed with him rather than dancing in heels that were pinching your toes.

"Can I confess something to you?" Coriolanus whispers, his lips tickling your ear.

"Of course, always " You reply honestly

"I hate seeing you interacting with them." He says in a low voice.

"Them?" You ask

"These people. Seeing them ask you questions about your dress or hair, makes me want to toss them into the arena and watch one of Gaul's mutts rip them apart. I hate the way they look at you like you're a piece of meat attached to my side." He says, possessiveness lacing his tone.

"Oh...well I'm sure they don't all think that way." You try to reason, hoping that he wasn't right about this read on others.

"I doubt it. Look at that one by the fountain in the blue jacket." He says nodding to his right.

You glance over to the fountain and see an old man with a fluffy white beard and white hair to match. He seemed to be carefully watching you and Coriolanus spinning on the dancefloor but you weren't quite sure.

"I'm positive he's standing there imagining what it'd look like if this pretty dress was on the floor and you were on top of him," Coriolanus whispers, knowing it'll have you blushing in his arms.

"Coryo..." You say, trying to keep your composure as he presses his body to yours while you wonder if he's truly right and the old man across the pretty courtyard is truly ogling you.

"Too bad I'm the only one who will ever know what that looks like." He says a certain arrogance in his voice you can't quite place.

"Stop it." You scold, trying to hide the fact that your face is as red as your dress.

"Why? I can't wait to get back to our bedroom tonight and bring what's in my head to life." Coriolanus laughs, his voice was husky in your ears and making you weak in the knees.

"You're so embarrassing, Coryo." You say into his chest, avoiding that sharp gaze he had. How could someone act so well-composed but also have the dirty mind of a perverted teenage boy?

Coriolanus stops leading your dance and hooks a finger under your chin so you're looking up at him again. Sharp blue eyes that felt like they were staring into your soul looked at you, full of passion and want.

"My heart burns for you, darling, as it always has. You're mine, my perfect girl, all mine." He promises before swooping in to deliver what might qualify as the most monumental kiss in all of history.

A certain warmness spreads across your body as he kisses you in public for the first time. It's moments like this with your Coriolanus make your heart swell, these moments remind you that the little boy with the golden curls you met when you were just twelve lives on, just in a different way. You know the teenager you once ate cabbage soup and bread with sweet jam watches over you as you kiss his 23-year-old self, you know he's smiling at where the two of you are now. You're sure that the same boy who once spun you around your childhood bedroom to your favorite slow song is still here with you now, even if he rarely shows his face. Coriolanus Snow is always watching over you, every version of him envelopes you tonight as he shows the world who you are to him.

Your head spins and your lungs burn as you hear a few whoops and cheers from onlookers while others whisper about how Coriolanus' hands are wandering all over your body. You're sure the way he's kissing you is going to end up on some Capitol news reel tomorrow morning but you can't find the heart to care. Somewhere in his chest, you feel Coriolanus let out a deep groan when you run your hands through his hair ruining the way it was perfectly styled for the evening. You gasp when his teeth nip at your bottom lip and pull away, a gasp for air leaving your now surely swollen lips.

"All yours, Coryo." You assure him and lean in for another kiss.

You smile as he kisses back and couldn't care less about what the world around you thinks, you had your Coryo, the boy who you grew up with and ate cabbage together in his decrepit home, the same boy who danced with you despite his own lack of skill. You were with your Coriolanus, the man who was going to carry Panem into a new age of glory.

Part Three

Series Masterlist

Read the Teaser here

So I uh sorta ended up abandoning fluffy Coryo thoughts from part one and went with the reader's pov of him at 23, I hope that's okay with all of you. He still loves you though don't worry, it's just in his own Coryo way. His own magically manipulative Coryo way. I was initially going to make this part during the 10th Hunger Games but then I thought, wouldn't it be interesting to see how he interacts with reader post Lucy Gray considering how much she changes his ideals. To make things clear, every moment with Lucy Gray and Coryo has occurred and the reader is unaware of pretty much all of it here, obviously since she's so goo goo gah gah over him.

If you'd like more of my writings about Coryo and you, my fic Blank Space might be the read for you, it also has a part two that is available now You can read them both here. (Yes it's based on the Taylor Swift song)

Taglist:

@bl0ndelilac

@lucygreene

@lwqfhp

@belle643

@fantasylovestoryme

@alana4610

@threeinchminimum

@dangelnleif

@hannaeditzs

@1950schick

@ennycutie

@janelongxox

@ajs-222

@or-was-it-just-a-dream

@notlilyyyy

@nicksolemnlyswears

@diannana

@ashrsworld

@lokidala

@clintsupremacy

@brilliantreid

@badassbitch-21

@steppingonshatteredglass

@405rry @folklorde24

@eir964

@charlesswife

@fangirling-galore

#the hunger games #fanfic #coriolanus snow smut #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #katniss everdeen #mockingjay #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #lucy gray baird #tom blyth #rachel zegler #coriolanus snow fluff #sejanus plinth #thg #tbosas #coriolanus snow x fem!reader

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iwriteyanderes2023 · 4 months

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Yandere Socialite (Fem! Yandere x Fem! Reader)

Divider credits: @/anitalenia

Trigger warning: Violence, drama between friends, profanity usage, yandere themes, name-calling, sexual harassment, power abuse. Choking, pet play, humiliation, drugging, sexual scenes, bondage play, female on female

(8941 words)

You regretted agreeing to this.

Your friends were raving about this massive party, where all the hottest celebrities and the wealthy go to flaunt or make a fool out of themselves. Obviously, it was an exclusive event, no mere commoners could simply walk in. To enter, it's either paying an extravagant fee or be (in)famous enough. Which, you were neither.

They claimed to know how to sneak in, undetected by the burly bouncers that you would rather not be the receiving end of their anger. It made sense to have some tight security, it is taking place in someone's mansion; someone's home, after all.

You, being new in this city and desperate to make connections to you could advance your career, said yes. You stupidly said yes, put on your best clubbing outfit and makeup, and went through with your friend's plan to slip in through one of the back doors while the other distracted whoever was around to hinder the plans.

Which leads you to be lost in a seemingly unending maze of hallways, you don't know where the other girls went and you don't know where you are. There wasn't a single soul wandering around the carpeted floor and chandeliered ceilings. Elegant paintings of men and women in dignified poses seem to peer at you in disgust; a filthy commoner dressed like a tramp. You didn't belong here, and it's only a matter of time before you were thrown into jail thanks to the recorded footage from the surveillance cameras you're sure were pointed at you.

You covered your arms with your hands as you moved onward, cussing under your breath about how silly it was to wear a ridiculously tall heel. It's already giving you blisters, so you decide to take them off and walk barefoot; silently and dryly sobbing about how humiliating this feels.

You continued trundling on, periodically looking back and trying to see where the life of the party is at so you could at least witness how it's like. Perhaps make a few connections, but you think that's unlikely. Most of them are probably drunk out of their mind or high off coke to care.

Actually, what are you even doing here? You're supposed to be networking at a classy, evening soiree, not a rich boy's messy party!

Before you could sigh again, you were interrupted by the sounds of yelling in a room nearby.

"Get off me, fucker!" You heard an enraged feminine voice shout out before the sounds of crashing reached your ears. Groaning could be heard as you assume the other party was shuffling to get up.

"You fucking bitch!" Retorted a masculine voice, followed by more stumbling. "What the hell is wrong with you!?"

"We're over. Get the fuck out of my sight!" She yelled, but it doesn't sound like she was too hurt over it. It's more anger if anything.

"What...? Just like that?! After everything that I've done-"

"All you did was embarrass me over and over again! Like, does it kill you to take a shower? Does it kill you not to be an entitled, gross loser all the time?"

You inched closer to the door and discreetly poked your head in. You saw the back of a woman with the most gorgeous blond hair draping down to her tailbone. She's wearing a silver sequin dress that barely covers the fold of her bum.

The male, slightly drunk and injured from the shove with debris around him, was glaring at the blonde.

"Shut up, slut! If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't get to live like this!" He threateningly pointed at her, but she didn't budge.

"Oh? You mean that monthly allowance of fifty bucks from you? Please, I pick up my dogs' crap with it. That's how worthless you are to me, I'm only tolerating you because I'm doing your mommy a favour." She fought back, her words enraged the man even further.

"You can forget the deal our families had! I'll make sure the Maciovelli name goes to shit, you will be living on the streets before you know it!" He yelled right in front of her face, getting up close and personal; and having his stray spit hit her. She merely wiped them away.

"Ugh, you're insufferable. Whatever, I'd like to see you try, bitch." She hissed before shoving him away again.

But this proved to be a dangerous move, as it provoked the man to lunge and swing his arm at her. Luckily though, it seems she has predicted it and dodged his attack on time.

You had to do something! And so, you looked around as the pair went on to physically fight. Though, it's more like she's doing all the defense while he does the offense. Sometimes blocking his hits with her red handbag.

There is a vase nearby, decorated with intricate, hand-painted flowers. Without thinking, you picked it up and chucked it at the man. The antiquity of that piece of art be damned, that woman is in danger and you have to do something to help her!

She visibly jolted when it flew past some strands of gold and crashed onto her assailant's head, spraying shards everywhere and making small cuts on her legs. He was thrown backward and rendered unconscious almost immediately.

The woman whipped her head back to see the source of it, staring at you with wide, baby-blue eyes. You stared back at her breathtakingly stunning face; she had thin, sharp brown eyebrows that accentuated her fox-like eyes. Long, black eyelashes framed her iris as smokey makeup made her eyes look much bigger and lively. Her lips were glossy and in a shade of pastel pink, with a dusting of sparkly glitter.

You stammered, not knowing what to do or say. You're not even supposed to be here. So you remained silent as you and her continued this staring contest, the woman's eyes were scrutinizing you from head to toe.

She began walking towards you, her heels menacingly clicking against the marbled floor of that room. You felt a surge of panic course through you, so you took a few steps back.

Only to be grabbed by the shoulder by someone else behind you. Chills ran down your spine when you heard the familiar sound of a walkie-talkie beeping. "I found one of the trespassers."

You started panicking even more, speaking erratically to try and defend your case. But the security officer wouldn't hear it, instead restraining you and pulling you away from the scene. You thrashed and screamed, not wanting to get caught and end your life as soon as it started. "I need backup!" Shouted the guard into his device as he tried to wrangle you into his grip.

You shouldn't have agreed to them, look what it has gotten you into. Your life is so over, you're going to be shoved into a jail cell and forced to move back to where you came from. If only you could-

"Hey, you fatass!" You saw her red, crescent handbag whack the officer in the arm, he flinched in surprise. "Hands off my best friend! And who the fuck do you think you are, calling her a trespasser!?"

A look of surprise crosses his face. "Miss Maciovelli? She's with you?" The officer took a look at you, there wasn't an aura of money emanating from you, not like how the woman was.

You looked back at the woman, now putting her hands on her hips. An irate expression adorns her face, "Um, yeah? I just said it, are you fucking slow? Let her go right now!" She demanded, raising the volume of her voice as her patience was running thin.

He sighed and released his hold on you. The man brought his walkie-talkie up to his mouth and said that it was a false alarm and that there wasn't a need for more of them to come over. They should focus on finding the rest of the intruders, which you can guess that they were referring to your friends.

"I'm sorry, Miss Maciovelli-"

"Yeah, you better be." She spat as she hooked her arm around yours. "Insulting my girl like that- why don't you all actually do your jobs and kick the real troublemakers out? Like that pig there, taking a nap on the floor. He tried to hit me and my best friend!" The blonde pointed her ivory-white acrylic nail to her bleeding ex, who seemed to be slowly regaining consciousness.

His eyes widened as he seemed to recognize the waking man. "O-oh! That's-!"

Before he could finish his sentence, the woman dragged you away from the scene. Pushing you by the shoulders and pulling you by the hand. You looked behind you to see the security guard entering the room while frantically speaking into his walkie-talkie.

"You're new. What's your name?" You were snapped out of your frazzled trance when she spoke. Her pace was slowing into a leisurely walk when she deemed it safe enough. The blonde's arm was still linked around yours, though.

Her baby blues curiously stared at you, all that malice and rage she held earlier was gone. Replaced with friendliness with a bit of wariness.

You told her your name and stumbled over your words trying to explain your situation as fast as possible. You made sure to thank her for saving you.

"Your friends are gross for abandoning you like that." She scowled. "I hate fake bitches like them, they should like, get shot in the head or something."

Your mouth gape open at her extreme remarks. Is this how socialites usually talk?

You defended your friends, telling her that they didn't abandon you. They probably just lost you as everyone scrambled to hide from security.

"Yeah, you're definitely new here. They knew what they were doing. You came with five others, at least one should be hiding from security with you." She brought you into a grandiose bathroom. The blonde finally lets you go and approaches the vanity. "Those sluts used you."

Miss Maciovelli pulled a tube of lip gloss from her mini handbag and began doing touchups. You simply watched her, not knowing what to say. Well, you should have seen it coming. Big city dwellers are known to be cutthroat, and you just met them.

"Sorry babe, but that's the reality here." She smacked her lip and wiped away any imperfections with her thumb.

You scratched the back of your head. You asked her if she could show you the exit, it's been a long night and you want to go home.

"You don't wanna stay for a little?" She asked, turning to you. "You're hot, I'm sure you'll have fun. I'll get rid of those snakes for you, if that's what's holding you back."

You shook your head, feeling exhausted after everything you went through today. You asked her if she's going back to the party, wherever that may be in this mansion.

"Duh." She bobbed her head.

There was a pregnant pause between the two of you. Until she decided to fish her phone out.

"Number." She extended her hand and brought her phone, numpad side to you.

You picked it up and entered your phone number. It's saved under your name, but you doubt that she will remember you after today.

"Oh, so that's how you spell it." She mumbled, looking at the contact name.

You watch her keep her device away before fixing her hair in the mirror again. She used a nail to adjust her eyelashes.

"Okay, let's go." She linked her arm around yours again, escorting you out of the bathroom.

You and she walked past numerous rooms and halls, some had excited shouts coming from them, some had salacious moaning and some had loud booming music. When you were nearing the core of the alcohol-fueled rave, the noise from massive speakers was nearly unbearable. You even had to cover your ears in order not to blow your drums out. But the woman didn't even flinch, she continued strutting along with you in tow.

You saw men and women feverishly dancing along to the beat, the surroundings were dark and illuminated by colorful strobe lights. Good thing you weren't epileptic.

"Heyy..."

You turned your head to see one of your friends. She's wasted beyond belief. "You... you made it! C'mere, I want you to meet-"

"Fuck off, whore!" Barked Miss Maciovelli, she yanked you along with her. Ignoring the expletives coming out from your friend's slurring mouth.

You asked if that was really necessary.

"Yep. They won't get the hint if you're this nice." She answered. "They'll keep trying until you're dragged down to their level. Don't ever disrespect yourself like that." She sternly warned you.

All you could do was nod meekly.

Eventually, you reached the exit. It's as grand and fancy as it was on the inside. You see a massive water fountain in the middle of a looped road. Yet, no cars could be seen but there were hoards of security milling around.

"Wait here." She left you on the marble steps as she approached a uniformed staff member. You watched them exchange some words before she marched back to you.

You thought that this was the end of your meeting with her. So you told her thanks and bid her goodbye while referring to her as Miss Maciovelli. She scrunched her nose up in disgust.

"Ew. That's so fake. Don't call me that." She crosses her arms over her chest, and you can see pale tan lines on her skin.

You asked what you should call her instead.

"Mercedes." She replied immediately. "You know, the car."

You told her that it's a beautiful name. She smiled and flipped her hair.

You told her that you better get going, it's late. Mercedes narrowed her eyes at you and grabbed your wrist.

"And how are you going to do that? It's an hour's drive from here to the city."

You said you were going to take the bus, that's how you got here in the first place. Worst come to worst, you would call a cab.

She shook her head defiantly.

"I'm driving you home, no way am I trusting those weirdos to bring you anywhere."

You told her that you would be fine and that you didn't want to be a hassle. To that, she rolled her eyes.

"Ugh, shut up." Mercedes punched your arm playfully.

A hot pink convertible then rolled up in front of the two of you. Its headlights are heart-shaped, you thought it was cute. "Miss Maciovelli?" Said the parking Valet.

"C'mon, don't be difficult." She urged you to get in through the passenger's side.

"This is your place?" She asked with a tone of incredulity. "Looks... plain."

You wouldn't call it plain. It's small but cozy. It's also all you can afford at the moment with your job, that's why you were planning to network around to get better opportunities.

"Hm." She hummed, releasing her grip on her pink, fluffy steering wheel to fix her hair.

You got out of her car and said goodbye. She didn't say a word but watched you get to the front door.

You look behind you to see her staring, so you wave bye. But she neither budged nor returned the gesture. Simply staring at you like a hawk. Feeling a bit creeped out, you went into the lobby.

Only then did she drive away. What a strange woman.

You sighed and trudged to the lift, pressing the button and resting your forehead on the cold, metallic panel. Well. There goes your only contacts in the city, they're all not good for you.

You didn't even get to know Mercedes's number, so until she texts you first, you're completely alone.

The lift opened to reveal no one. As usual. You don't think you've seen your neighbors yet, thinking they're either avoiding you, extremely busy, or extremely reclusive. Or living in an entirely different timezone.

When you reached your room, you decided to boot up your computer. While waiting for it to be functional, you did something else; preparing the things you need for a relaxing bath and boiling some water for tonight's five-star dinner: instant noodles.

You spent the night researching Mercedes, only searching her first name predictably bringing up results of the luxury car brand with the same name. But as soon as you searched for Mercedes Maciovelli, you began learning a lot about her.

She is the heiress of a very successful, multi-billion conglomerate company. Her family owns more businesses than you can count in two hands, they're also huge and famous companies. Banks, grocery stores, and even planes. It's scary how her family possesses this much power. That was such a silly thing for her ex to say, that if it wasn't for him, she would have been in poverty. Maybe it was just the heat of the moment.

However, she is no stranger to paparazzi as she frequently mingles with high-profile celebrities, gets into physical altercations, and goes wild in nightclubs. She is nothing like what was expected of her as someone who grew up in "old money". She's associated with words like "bitchy", "fiesty", "trashy" and "Messy". Whereas her peers barely have any information available about them online, they stay out of trouble and act too elegant for the paparazzi and tabloids to take any interest.

The most interesting bit about Mercedes was her dating life. Your eyes bulged out of your skull, seeing the seemingly unending list of boyfriends she had over the years. It's almost like she has a new one every month, but there are never repeats. Articles, gossip pieces, and smear forums about Mercedes are just so prevalent, that you think you're getting a cramp on your finger by just scrolling your mouse.

In the end, you're sick of seeing the public bash the blonde. It gets old and you're becoming tired. Perhaps aging has already caught up to you, but you cannot stay up past 12.

You decided to shut your computer off and head to bed.

It's been a few days since that party. Your "friends" kept texting you, trying to get you to join one more of their trespassing escapades. You gave them excuses upon excuses because you're not interested in such a lifestyle.

"Aw, don't be such a lame-o," Drawled one of the girls as she shook your shoulder. "Come on, it'll be fun! You had fun!"

The other girls continued egging you on in this expensive cafe. You were already uncomfortable meeting them here, as you can barely afford the cheapest of their pastries. At least the ambiance looks amazing in photos. If only you owned a digital camera...

You let out a nervous chuckle as you tried to decline as much as you could without offending them.

"There's another one tonight! You should totally come with us, I got like, the routes and everything already!"

"Yeah, think of the cute guys that's going to be there!"

"OMG, I heard Retro Rhymes are going to be there!"

"Really!? The rapper!?"

You sighed as they chatted amongst themselves. You silently picked at your muffin with your fork, that was the cheapest thing on the menu and the price was enough to give you eight of these back home.

Eventually, they must have forgotten your existence. Because they continued talking until they left the building. Not saying a bye or sparing a glance in your direction. Leaving you to sit at your table alone and brooding.

Well. You shouldn't expect much when it comes to friendships here. Many people come to the city solely to make money and have fun, after all. Not so much finding true, lifelong connections.

You took a sip of your black coffee. Again, the cheapest thing you could get from there. You couldn't even afford sugar or milk with it.

Suddenly, a manicured hand slammed a cup onto your table, shocking you and making you accidentally spill some of your drink onto your blouse.

"You should try this, it's so good. Way better than your boring-ass black coffee, I bet." You recovered from your initial shock to crane your head up to see Mercedes staring down at you from above, her soft, golden hair falling to your face.

You greeted her, asking what she was doing here.

"I could ask the same of you, seeing that you're pretty broke. But I saw how you still hung out with those sluts even after I told you not to." She cocked an eyebrow as an unimpressed look crossed her face.

Today, she wears a simple, lacey crop top and a pair of low waisted jeans. You got to know that she had her belly button pierced.

You sighed once more, burying your face in your hands. You told her you don't have a choice, it's a cold world out here and you need someone to fulfill that human need for socialization. Now that you have calmed down, you decided to take a better look at the drink she gave you.

It's a tall, plastic cup with a dome cover. It's an ice-blended, creamy mocha with chocolate syrup drizzled on the sides of the cup. It has a healthy dollop of whipped cream on top and a thick straw is sticking out of its opening.

"Um, hello? You have me." She moved away from you and took a seat next to you, she ordered the same thing. Mercedes shook it around before taking a sip. "You don't need them anymore, I'll be showing you the ropes."

You thought about it for a while. There is definitely a non zero chance that she will play you like a fiddle, but it's much better to have someone high up there in the hierarchy. Even though she isn't necessarily a mature businesswoman yet, you would still have a better chance to brush shoulders with relevant people. Not... Partygoers.

So then, you agreed. Picking up your cup and taking your first sip.

It was tooth-rotting. It was good, but you knew if it wasn't for sugar, this cup would not even be filled to half. The sheer sweetness of the treat made you grimace and pucker.

"What? Don't like it?" She asked, looking bored.

You said it was nice, but a bit too sweet.

"That's the point. I like it sweet." She took another sip from her drink. "Keeps me full for hours."

You... Don't think that's how it works. Isn't it usually the opposite effect? Whatever.

For the next few hours, you and her chat about almost everything and anything. Ranging from each other's histories, to each other's interests, to oddly philosophical questions and personal views on things. There were quite a few differences between you and Mercedes- obviously so, as she was raised by the uber rich and you were raised by... Your guardians, but you liked how she kept her mind open and was non-judgemental about you.

It was refreshing, really. Someone you could somewhat be real with, unlike your previous set of friends where you had to put on the most guarded mask in order not to feel like a pathetic lowlife around them.

You were curious about her dating habits, but you think it's rude to ask about it this early on in the friendship. Plus, it never came up, so you decided to save that question for another day. You bet if she's willing to open up, it will take more than just a few hours.

It's getting late, you should leave.

So you stood up, secretly in disbelief at how you finished the entire thing of diabetes. You told Mercedes that you have work tomorrow and you're going to need to leave soon.

She frowned. "Boo. Boring."

You said that you have to be "boring", you don't have her type of money.

"And it's literally just six in the evening. It's not like it's six in the morning or something." She huffed.

You said you have been in this cafe for seven hours.

"They don't close til 10."

Still, you have to get back home. You're tired.

She stuck her tongue out at you.

"Fine. But I'm driving you home."

You said there isn't a need for her to do that, you could take the bus.

"Let's go, you need your beauty sleep." She ignored you and grabbed you by the arm, pulling you along with her so quickly that you struggled to keep up.

Weeks would go by and you would meet Mercedes every Sunday in a different cafe of her choosing. And these meetings would increase in frequency each week, to a point where you were eating all three meals with her daily. She would always foot the bill and refused to let you pay for anything, talking about how you're so poor, that you're probably fighting rats for the scraps at the bottom of the dumpster. It's an absolute win for you; no cooking involved and you haven't eaten instant noodles for months now.

The five girls you originally started off with seem to lose interest in you, they never texted or called you again. And when you did bump into any of them, they would pretend not to know you.

It's extremely obvious that they're avoiding you for some reason, maybe it's because they've seen you buddying up with Mercedes: one of their sworn enemies and one of the most feared figures in this city.

It's... Surprisingly sad. Knowing that the friendship was doomed from the beginning didn't change the feeling of isolation and hurt in you. But at least you gained something that resembled a friend.

Mercedes would gradually increase the frequency of her texts and calls, hitting you up whenever she's bored out of her mind.

"Stop working letz go shopping"

"U r SO going blind in ur 30s"

"nerd :-P"

"im boreddddddddddddd"

"go clubbing with moiiii"

"letzzz goooo"

"stop ignoring me :-("

These were just some of the few text messages you would frequently receive, blowing up your phone even when you're in a meeting. You would usually need to turn it off entirely to keep yourself quiet.

But yes, you would go shopping with her. Mercedes seem to have a kick out of spoiling you with clothes, jewelry and other things you can only dream to buy.

You didn't like trying on clothes, because Mercedes would barge into your changing room however and whenever she liked.

"What's the big deal? We're both girls." That was what Mercedes would say when she slips into the cubicle, while you're mid-change without any warning. Of course, you would react negatively to that, especially since you don't know her that well.

In the end, though, you would just give up and let her come in. It's not like you could stop her and she isn't doing anything too weird... Aside from her vaguely longing stares at your partially or completely unclothed body. She would almost be in a trance, staring unblinkingly for long periods of time until you snap your fingers in front of her face. She just claims that you're just too hot for anyone to handle.

Mercedes would contact you via your phone, asking if you would want to go clubbing with her, or if you would want to be her plus one to an event. And each time, you would say no. And each time, she would whine about how lame you are but never pushed too far.

A temporary boyfriend would take your place, only for her to break up with them the next day and appear in another tabloid for some scandalous fighting or dating. When you asked her about it, she would get moody and irritable. She would rant about her feelings and problems with the world at large, finding the dating pool now repulsive and general standards insanely low.

"Ugh! Can you believe that he said that to me?"

You would have to nod, it would end her ranting faster. It's always the same phrase over and over again, with slight variation.

"I wish men were just like you, I would find it so fucking easy to commit to a guy. But they're not, so I rather shit my hands and clap. Oh my god, he was so pathetic and gross."

You could recite her words at this point, you got it the first time that she wishes she could date a male version of you. Mercedes didn't have to repeat that every single time you and her met up.

For her sake and yours, you pray hard that she finds what she's looking for. You don't know how much more of her repetitive complaints you can take.

All your other attempts to network and make connections fail. As soon as any of them knew you were Mercedes's "bestie", they would either run for the hills or become actively hostile toward you. She has made a lot of enemies and you don't think she has any girlfriends... Only orbiters or those who tried to get her approval but secretly hated her guts. Or die-hard fans who don't see her as a human, but as an object, whether for better or for worse.

She kept them around, just because she could benefit from them. Mercedes would bring them along to some of your many shopping sprees with her just so they could carry heaps of heavy bags for the two of you. While you and her get to enjoy the day, completely unburdened.

It unsettled you how she treated them like lowly servants, or even more degradingly so, like dogs. And not like one of her spoiled Pomeranians, but mutts that are bred to work and live off scraps of attention. You could be having a spa day at the city's finest specialist, sipping on complimentary champagne, and having your hair done with products that you cannot even pronounce; Mercedes would make her lackeys wait outside. Yet, they appear happy about this treatment from her. Eagerly following Mercedes and by extension, you, wherever you go.

It didn't matter who you tried to befriend, Mercedes's opinion of them would remain constant: They're all two-faced liars who are out there to kick you when you're down. It never changed despite never even meeting them or you made them up. She's fiercely protective of you, and always assumed the worst of everyone, even her own relatives when they tried being cordial with you.

Of course, the friendship has blossomed to the point where you would have a slumber party at her multi-million mansion every Friday. You wouldn't even need to bring anything, she would have everything ready for you; clothes, toiletries, hairdryers- anything you need to survive from day to day, you would have a more luxurious version of it. She definitely has an affinity for bling, as the tops that Mercedes provides always have rhinestones decorating them.

You were living in opulence, a lifestyle that can only be seen on TV, in magazines, or in history books. It's jarring and almost dreamlike how you got to experience such things just by chance. You didn't have to work hard for it, you just need to endure a spoiled blonde's clinginess to receive all these. What a steal. You had maids and butlers that would await your every order, personal chefs to whip up something delicious in a second, and hunky pool boys to ogle at when you tan with her outside.

You just wished that Mercedes wasn't so touchy, though...

"Like, sunburn isn't cute. C'mon, don't be such a hardass, turnover." You would groan and do as you were told, laying flat on your stomach and adjusting your sunglasses. Mercedes would then squeeze a handful of white sunscreen on her palm, and begin rubbing onto your exposed back and legs.

She would always take her time running her hands over your skin, sensually massaging from the base of your neck and down to your bum. Her flesh would glide against yours, reaching all that she could touch and occasionally squeezing your cheeks down south. Whenever you complained, she would say:

"What? Not my fault you have a bubble butt. No one can resist giving a squeeze." And continues fondling you under the guise of preserving your youthful skin from the harsh sun rays. You would sigh, slumping your head down as Mercedes continued doing whatever she wanted. It's her house, her money, and her influence after all. You're just riding on it for free. And it's not like anything is going to be too weird, you and her are both girls!

"Okay, I'm done. My turn." She would hand you the bottle of sunscreen and flip herself over. It's undeniable that she has a body that even Aphrodite would be envious of, thanks to a combination of genetics, her lifestyle, and other procedures. Mercedes does put in work in her personal gym, toning her body and alluring men everywhere. Her bikini would leave very little to the imagination, but it made sense why she needed much more sunscreen.

"Make sure to get it on here too." She would purr, playfully wiggling her plump rear. This would usually prompt an eye roll from you and a giggle from her.

She's soft to the touch. And you knew that not because you would have to smear sunscreen on her, but because she would often cuddle with you. It didn't matter what you were doing, you could be stretching in her living room, and she would wrap her arms around your waist. You could be curled up on her fluffy sofa, watching a sitcom, and she would crawl up all over your space. You could be sleeping, and you would wake up to her being the big spoon. And she would have the audacity to whine about how you ruined her sleep by moving around.

But you must admit, she is comfortable to cuddle with. Especially when you rest your head on her voluptuous breasts, allowing yourself to sink into them and inhale her sweet, floral perfume. It would be heaven squared when she would rake her long, acrylic nails through your hair. Mercedes would let you twirl with her golden strands, playing with them between your fingers.

You think, maybe it's because she's just lonely and a big fan of physical touch. It must be exhausting to constantly think every single person in the world is out there to get you. But does she have to be so... gross?

"I just want it." Mercedes would whine, demanding that she wants your drink. You would ask her why, you also drank out of this straw anyway.

"I didn't like my order."

You pointed out that you ordered the same exact thing as her.

"They didn't make it right!"

You asked her what made her think they made yours right.

"They just do!"

You said it's just going to be the same thing. Why not throw hers away and order another one, seeing that she has near infinite amount of money?

She would groan in frustration and stomp her heels on the ground. "It tastes better after you drank from it, okay!? I don't know what it is about your... fucking saliva that makes something so mediocre, tastes so good. Now, gimme!" Mercedes would snatch it out of your hands and swapped it with her one.

You drank more than half of yours while Mercedes barely touched her cup. Well, more for you, you guess. At least everyone is happy.

This habit of hers would extend to utensils, you knew she would purposely drop her dessert spoon just to eat from yours. Mercedes would steal your clothes, claiming that your outfits are always cuter than hers, and she's jealous.

But she chose and bought you these clothes...?

You were so used to her antics, that one day, Mercedes gave you a new brand of gum to try. However, when it touches your tongue, you immediately grimaced as it was the most atrocious flavour ever.

"Whaatt? Are you fucking serious? That's like, my favourite flavour!" She would look at you in disbelief. And you would look at her in disbelief, because this was the first time seeing her buying this brand.

You told her that you wanted to spit it out, it's awful.

"Don't waste it!" She hit you on the arm. "Spit it in my mouth." Mercedes would part her lips wide and bring her face close to yours.

Without thinking, you expelled the partially chewed up candy into her orifice... which she gladly accepted and began chewing on it. Sucking whatever flavour that was left on, including your fluids.

"What are you talking about?" You could hear her obnoxious chews between words. "It tastes fine, you're so dramatic."

Upon realizing what you just did, you would shudder in disgust. Quickly walking away as if you're trying to run from the memory.

Soon after, Mercedes would permeate through every aspect of your life. It seems like she had a chat with her parents about offering you a job at one of their firms. A high standing one at that, too.

You obviously accepted it and resigned from your previous post. Now, THIS is what you're talking about. A prestigious job with unbelievable benefits and tasks that doesn't seem too hard for you to do. It's everything you wanted you achieve, ever since you arrived at the city.

Well, minus the fact that your bestie who got you this position would intrude your office every chance she gets and talk your ear off.

"Ughhh... this is so boring... Let's ditch this place and go somewhere fun." She would rest her head on your shoulder while shaking you by the arm.

You said you can't. You have work to do.

"Says who?"

You said your boss.

"Who's your boss?"

For the fifth time, you told her the name of your supervisor. But instead of complaining, she would storm out of your office. At first, you thought she would leave you alone, maybe she's tired of bugging you and got the hint that you're a responsible adult with adult jobs.

But, ten minutes later, she would be barrelling in with your boss in tow. She had him in a very unsavoury grip, her hands tightly clutching his sleeve.

"Tell her!" She demanded.

"Y-you're free to go. Someone else can cover for you."

Your eyes would widen, asking if this will affect your pay.

"Not at all. Don't worry, I will have this... agreement in writing. Please e-enjoy the rest of your day." He would then quickly excuse himself from the room, avoiding Mercedes's fiery glare.

You looked at her. How could she just do that?

"My Dad owns this company, duh. Anyways, less talk, more walk." She hooked her arm around yours and dragged you out of the office.

It's as if her father was paying you just to babysit his bratty, adult daughter. You barely get to do anything for the company! You don't even know what you were hired to do in the first place anymore.

It gets extremely suffocating being her best friend, you don't know anyone around except her. The staff in her mansion is always rotating, so you wouldn't see the same face twice. You barely remembered your supervisor's names, let alone any colleagues'. All your free time is robbed by Mercedes, she saturates every single second of your life. You don't remember not seeing Mercedes's pretty face on the daily, yet it's astonishing how she would get the paparazzi on her for constantly dating a new roster of boys each season and getting into catfights with other women. Where does she find the time to do that?

It's rubbing on you, now you begin to crave a boyfriend. A 'boy toy', as Mercedes would call it.

It shouldn't be too hard, you know that you're good-looking; you have the clothes, the hair, the makeup and you can always steal from your filthy rich best friend. Your bank account is a little chubbier now thanks to Mercedes. If you just put yourself out there, you're sure boys will flock to you.

But you shouldn't tell this to Mercedes, you get the vibe that she would be jealous that you're stealing the spotlight. You aren't trying to do at all, you're just curious to know what it's like to live like Mercedes for once.

So you had to do it secretly. You would always decline her requests to join her clubbing, preferring to favor sleep over drug-fuelled parties. But recently, you would cover up your eyebags with concealer just so you could introduce yourself to the market. It goes without saying, that you're not tagging along with Mercedes, you went on your own and told not a single soul.

And it was a success! You have never received so many free drinks from men before, you even witnessed some of them fighting over you, all physical and mock-macho. It was hilarious and flattering, but the other girls would avoid you like the plague and shoot you nasty looks your way. It's much worse than you expected it to feel, you feel... rejected, alienated, and ugly. Was this how Mercedes felt? Is that why she thinks all other women are out for her blood? Well, you understand it now. And some of the boys would be really creepy towards you, it doesn't feel so good on the soul knowing the people who defended you from those weirdos are also creeps themselves. They just wanted a piece of you as if you were just a slab of meat in a cage of hungry wolves.

Though, it would be a big, fat lie to say you didn't feel free. You felt the freedom that died on the day Mercedes took you under her wing. It tasted so sweet, you wanted more and more. You were so addicted, that you took illicit substances just to keep you awake for longer, to party until the sun rises.

You were leading a double life: As Mercedes's goody-two-shoes bestie in the day, a bad girl gone wild at night. Make out with whoever you want to, drinking as much as you want and shaking yourself to the beat of the music until you drop.

You knew Mercedes was suspecting something was up, but at this point, you give no shits. This is your life, and you get to live it.

It didn't last long, though.

There was one night in particular; you remembered that they had a massive disco ball in the middle of the ceiling, reflecting every ray coming out of the projector. It was deafening, the smell of booze and sweat nauseated you but you didn't notice. The DJ was bopping his head to the rhythm and scratching records using his fingertips. The patrons were doing their own thing, some were dancing like no tomorrow, some were locking lips and some were snorting lines. It was one of those types of parties, the one where you first met Mercedes. Except this time, you successfully snuck in without your ex-friends and finally found the core of the rave.

Your hair was frazzled and you had a few wardrobe malfunctions, but why should you be bothered by that? It's not like everyone around you were dignified at all, you blend in and that's all that matters to you.

The details were fuzzy, but you remembered wondering what it was like to make out with a woman instead. Men had pretty rough lips and they smelled like crap. Why not experiment? You're here anyways, and no one is going to recognize you- whatever happens in this mansion, stays in this mansion. Plus, you already have a willing participant next to you, who has been hitting on you all night.

Later in the dark, you became bold from a mix of alcohol and whatever glowing pill you took from a giddy stranger. You pulled her aside to somewhere secluded, the two of you were clearly hot and bothered, deeply eager to explore each other's bodies. Nothing else matters in this moment, other than to satisfy each other's needs.

She pulled you in by the neck, pressing her full lips against yours. And you were correct, it was soft, fragrant, and delicious. A thousand times better than kissing stinky boys. You closed your eyes and melted into her touch, sinking deeper and deeper into the kiss. She's on top of you, straddling your hips and your hands are rubbing all over her body. The woman, who you didn't even know the name of, trailed kisses from your jaw down to your collarbones. Her slender fingers began to stray from your chin and roam downwards until it was dangerously close to the hem of your panties. You let out a muffled moan as she let her tongue taste every corner of your mouth, neither of you could speak. And neither of you wanted to, words weren't necessary.

However, your ecstasy was cut short when your lover was yanked backward. Confused, your eyes immediately shot open at the first taste of emptiness... only to witness something scaringly horrific.

"Fucking slut! How fucking dare you, how fucking dare you touch my girl!" Shrieked Mercedes as she had an iron grip on your lover's hair with one hand, and another was whaling on her non-stop. She was screaming in terror as your best friend inflicted as much damage as she could on her face. Scratches, punches, cuts, she had done it all. Mercedes pulled clumps of hair out from her victim's scalp and dodged every attempt of her to fight back. She was fast, fueled with the purest distillation of rage you have ever seen, mascara streaked down her face as she shouted until her voice was hoarse. Blood splattered onto her light-hued hair, her outfit was ruined and no doubt, a thousand dollars worth of acrylic nails were ripped from her nailbed as she threw brutal punches.

You panicked, trying to break the fight up but Mercedes was entirely immersed in anger that she didn't care that she lost her natural nails along with her false ones. She's also bleeding, scarlet painted her fingertips, knuckles, and up to her wrist as she went on tormenting your lover with more hits and pummels. At this rate, Mercedes might just kill her!

You attempted to restrain her, but she was too strong, easily overpowering you just so she could beat your lover to death. There was so much hatred simmering in her heart for this one stranger, this one woman you're sure she's never met. Why!? Why her!? Why would Mercedes attack her unprovoked!?

The fight, which was one-sided ended a few minutes later when your lover stopped moving and was covered in gruesome welts. Her eyes were swollen shut and there was blood pooling around her from her nostrils, scalp, and lips.

"You."

Growled Mercedes. She was breathing heavily and all her strands were out of place. Tears were flowing down her bloodshot eyes as she trembled.

You were speechless, you quivered in fear as you looked on. In the end, all you could mewl out was a meek "Why?"

This caused her to wail, scream, and sob. She brought her injured fingers to her head and gripped her hair, letting out all her frustrations and agony before composing herself enough to form a coherent sentence.

"Fuck you, Whore! Fuck you!" She pointed at you, her shrill voice was making your ears hurt, but you're glad she wasn't biting them off instead.

You said you didn't understand what was going on, why was she so upset.

"You were into girls all along! I-I-" She sniffled, ungracefully wiping her tears away with the back of her hand. Soiling her face with her own blood.

"I'm... in love with you..." Her voice quietened as it wavers, Mercedes choked on her own tears as she confessed. "Why didn't you tell me...?" She gasped erratically as she cried. Suddenly, there was a spike in her emotions. "Why didn't you fucking tell me?!"

You took a few more steps backward as she lost control over herself again, she had to kick your already unconscious lover with her heels to calm herself down.

"I wanted you! I..." She let out one last bloodcurdling scream before lunging at you.

You tried evading her, but she was just too experienced in this. Within seconds, her hands are tightly wrapped around your neck; Choking them until blood rushes up your head. You clawed and clawed on her hands, but nothing worked. She was determined to kill you.

She gnashed her teeth as she choked the life out of you, her salty tears rolled down her cheeks, taking some concealer along with it showing that she also had severe dark bags under her eyes.

You started seeing spots, and your thinking became redundant as your brain shuts down from the lack of oxygen. Is this it? Your death? Killed by a nepotism baby with her bare hands?

You took one last look at her face, it was filled with pain and anguish.

You regretted agreeing to come to the city.

She was yearning for you, ever since she bought you that first drink. If you knew the depth of her twisted, obsessive love she harbors for you, running for the hills would have been your immediate reaction.

Mercedes cried herself to sleep almost every night, suffering from a heartache that could never heal itself as long as she knew you were straight. She knew that you would never share her feelings, because she was taught that everyone sees lesbians as freaks of nature.

She tried distracting herself with parties, boys, booze, and coke. But nothing worked, all she ever thought about was you, you, you. She loves you and wanted nothing but to be your lovely wedded wife. Oh, how she longs for a life where it's just you and her. And no one else.

Mercedes couldn't let you go, no way in hell. That's why she would scare off anyone who got too close to you for her liking, that's why she sent out hit after hit to eliminate the competition. Because if she can't have you, no one can.

But now...

"Sit."

You frowned, refusing to budge from your spot.

Mercedes pouted, she cupped your cheeks and stared deep into your eyes.

"Bad puppies don't get treats, you don't want to be a bad puppy, do you, baby?" She cooed in a babyish tone but with heavy condescension.

You couldn't speak, because there was a ballgag between your lips. Yet, you stayed still in defiance.

She narrowed her eyes at your disobedience.

"That's how you're gonna be, huh." Mercedes lets go of your face and sticks her hand into the pocket of her bathrobe. You heard a click, and soon you felt insane vibrations between your legs, it's coming from the vibe taped to your clit!

You let out a muffled yelp as the stimulation made you buckle to your knees, and eventually, you were on the floor, helpless as your hands were tied up behind your back. Juices leaked from your slit and onto the cold, smooth floors.

"Good girl~" She praised in a sing-song voice. Mercedes happily clapped her hands together.

Your eyes rolled back into your skull as you were about to be overcome by pleasure, but... the device suddenly stopped moving. Leaving you incomplete and agitated.

You whined and whimpered, wanting your rightful climax but Mercedes only smiled at your pathetic, squirming state.

"Aww, what's that? Puppy wants to cum?" You feverishly nodded, face burning from the degradation.

"Well, only good puppies get their pussy eaten. Are you a good puppy?" She rested her hands on her knees.

You nodded and let out a muffled yell.

"Roll over."

You tried your best to do that, but the frigid floor is stimulating you further.

"Play dead."

You lay still for a few seconds, your sex is still throbbing in arousal.

"Good girl, good girl!" She praised, giggling at you.

You whimpered, having tears bead from the corners of your eyes. You need that release so badly, it's starting to hurt.

"Mmm... you're so fucking hot..." She whispered as she slowly got down to the floor, slipping her hands between your inner thighs to remove the toy. Her pupils are dilating at the sight of your naked, dripping crotch. "I can't wait to eat you out. You always taste so fucking delicious." Mercedes brushed your puffy lips with her fingers.

"Open your legs."

She didn't have to tell you twice, you granted her full access.

"Good girl..." She purred before dipping her head down to drag her wet, pink muscle over your pussy.

You writhe as she tongue fucks you, lapping up everything and not letting a drop of your sweet, sweet nectar go to waste.

You would spend almost every waking second being 'trained' by Mercedes. Her treats are sex and the overstimulation of your pussy until you faint. You never knew that she was such a nymphomaniac, or maybe she just is that for you. Mercedes just couldn't get enough of your essence, so you're subjected to such treatment.

Well, at least you don't have to work anymore. You get to eat five-star meals and sleep in a mansion, and you get to binge-watch all your favorite shows guilt-free. All you had to be was Mercedes's pet and have her eat you out whenever she wants.

Her beloved Pillow Princess; was embossed in gold, on the hot pink collar around your neck.

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