#boutique hotels promise

[monzabee]

beach read - mv1

masterlist

Summary: The one where you and Max go on a holiday for the first time, and you realize just how much you love 'Vacation Max'.

Pairing: max verstappen x reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: fluff!! vacation max, bagels and beans slander (from someone who lives in amsterdam, guys, i’m just the messenger here), max is an angel. 

Request: “Yn is the new girlfriend of max verstappen, and they are going for the first together on a holiday, first location Greece and then the netherlands where he gets her a promise ring with a lot of fluff thanks” - this was requested by @maximeverstappen !!

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! a request came in with a holiday concept and you know I had to use a title from an emily henry novel. can you tell i wrote this while listening to the entire mamma mia soundrack? The first AND the second one because we don’t discriminate. thank you, anon, for the request, i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

There is a big difference between on-season Max and off-season Max. After dating for a few months, you begin to see the differences between the two, which is a lot. He is a man of habit, Max is. He wakes up at the same time every morning to train during the season, and he has his breakfast a certain way before going about his day – which you guessed it, is planned from start to finish. But he’s different when he is on break. If the two of you decide to go back to Monte Carlo to enjoy the sun for a little bit, his demeanour changes from the ‘Mad Max’ everyone deems him as into what you like to call ‘Vacation Max’.  

The first location of your vacation is a small island in Greece called Skopelos. With all of his alarms turned off from the minute the season enters into a break, the two of you have the luxury to sleep in. You try your hardest not to let the sun shining through the windows bother you because of how comfortable you are in your current position – snuggled into the covers with Max cuddling into you. But since the two of you were very tired last night and forgot to close the curtains, you’re unfortunately the victim of the sun shining through the room. You try to get under from Max as slowly as possible to not wake him, but his arm tightening around your waist paired with a groan are both indicators of the fact that you’ve failed to do so.

He mumbles in a deep morning voice as he hides his face in your hair to get away from the sun. “Stay, liefje, we’re on a vacation.”

“Max, the curtains.” You whine, wriggling in your place, you try to get away from his hold while you let out a groan. 

“Shh,” He shushes you, as his arms slowly turn your body towards his and gently makes you place your head on his chest. “Better?” You let out an appreciative hum, followed by a yawn, which makes you close your eyes and promptly go back to sleep. You wake up much later and decide to find a breakfast spot to try instead of spending your morning in the small boutique hotel. You’re in the middle of putting on sunscreen when Max pops his head into the bathroom, his head tilted to the side with wonder. “What are you doing?” He asks while moving to stand behind you and wrap his arms around your waist. 

“Sunscreen.” You mumble, blending the SPF into your skin. You turn in his arms towards him once you’re done with yours. “Your turn.”

He shakes his head in disagreement, voicing it with a whine as you start applying the crème on his face. “It smells disgusting, liefje.”

“But it’ll keep from burning like bacon.” You smile at your handiwork once you’re done, giving him a small kiss on the lips. “Perfect.” 

You end up having breakfast by a small café near the sea, the table your waitress sits you in is so close to the water that it’s basically seafront. You share pancakes and fruit for breakfast, and you convince him to try Greek frappe, a type of whipped iced coffee. You’re surprised when he drinks the entire glass in one go, claiming that it’s his new favourite way to drink coffee. The rest of the day is spent on the beach; the two of you go for a swim in which Max’s competitive side takes over for a second when you decide to race to the shore. He pulls you towards him by gently tugging your leg when you’re just about to pass him and get to the shore first. 

You let out a loud laugh while splashing water towards him to slow him down. “You’re a cheat, Max Verstappen!” You yell as he comes out of the water, sending a boyish grin and a wink towards your way, in which you poke your tongue out to him in response.  

He helps you to dry off with a towel before he does it himself, and you thank him with a small smile and a kiss to his cheek. When you lay down on the lounge chair, he’s quick to follow you, finding himself a place between your legs, face down, with his chin resting against your stomach. Not a long time pass before his breathing evens out and he drifts off to a sleep. One of your hands occupy itself by playing with his damp hair whilst the other one hold the book you’ve specifically packed in hopes of reading it on the beach. With Max taking an afternoon nap, you read your book in peace for a while. 

“What are you reading?” Max asks, a sleepy look in his eyes. 

You dog-ear the page you’re on before turning you attention to the man who’s looking at you with a drowsy pout on his face. “Beach Read, it’s a book I picked out at the airport.” 

“Is it good?” He asks before putting his head back down and this time leaning his cheek against your stomach. You smile softly and let out an affirmative hum as your hand’s movements continue and slowly lull him to another nap. “Can you read some to me?” He asks, his arms also wrapping themselves around your body. 

You chuckle as you open your book to the page where you left off. “Of course, Max.”

The rest of your week in Greece is filled with sun and sea induced sleeps and fresh fruit, and you see another side of Max, which is relaxed and laid back. You think you like this side of your boyfriend. 

The next location of your vacation with Max is actually Amsterdam. You’re not really sure why you’ve chosen such a lively place after spending two weeks in a calm Greek island, but you’re excited to explore the city with him. 

“We are not going to Bagels & Beans, schat.” He announces as he passes through the hotel room, looking for his wallet and phone. 

“What?” You ask, poking your head from the bathroom and thus taking a break from doing your makeup. “Why not?” 

“It’s filled with tourists, that’s why.” He says, smiling as he shakes his head because of the perplexed look on your face.

You let your pout take over your expression. “But it’s supposed to be very good.” You try to argue, stalking towards him and fisting his shirting gently. “Can we try it out, please?” 

“Schatje,” He groans, placing his palm over your cheek and letting his thumb caress your cheekbone. “The tourists.” He seems to remind you. 

“They’ll be all over the city too; maybe we should just pack up and leave, then.” You argue while rolling your eyes but leaning against his touch, nevertheless. “I heard they made really good sourdough bagels.” You sing in a light voice. 

“You are trouble, you know that?” He asks you with raised eyebrows. 

“Yes, but you love me.” You grin, he doesn’t disagree with you as he rolls his eyes. 

The breakfast over at Bagels & Beans go swimmingly if you say so yourself. There’s a smug look on your face as Max eats his bagel in record time and goes inside to get a second one because “Have you tried their wasabi mayo? It’s simply lovely.” You choose to go for creme cheese and strawberry jam on a sourdough, which is to your liking. The two of you walk around the city the entire morning and afternoon, taking pictures on the bridges over the canal, even though Max complains that it makes you look like tourists – “We are, tourists,” you remind him, or going into shops which sell knick knacks, you end up buying a small model of a clog for your parents, liking the bright colour of it and the painted details. You eventually find yourself in a farmers market, looking at blooming flowers and sampling all kind of cheese, Max even shows off his juggling skills to you at a fruit stand with tangerines and lemons. Before you end the day with dinner, you convince him to get some tulip 

seeds for your garden back home. 

“You don’t have a garden, Y/N.” He reminds you while holding all the different pack of seeds you hold out his way. 

“Well maybe I’ll start one with these ones.” You argue – and you end up planting them in small pots over you balcony when you get home, too. 

The next day, he takes you over to the Van Gogh Museum. You’re looking around you in awe the entire time, dragging Max from painting to painting and reading all the descriptions. For some of the displays where there’s only Dutch descriptions are provided for the moment, he’s more than happy to take on the role of translator for you. The two of you spend some time in an immersive part of the exhibition for a while, just sitting down and talking about life while also enjoying the paintings being reflected onto the surfaces of the room via the projector. He smiles so widely when you attempt to pronounce some of the Dutch words you’ve encountered over the past few days, and the glint in his eyes making you smile the same way. After leaving the museum, he takes you over to a stand to try Dutch pancakes for the first time. 

“What’s the difference?” You ask him while eyeing the pancake on the carton plate. 

“I’m not sure,” He replies. “But it has Belgian chocolate on it as well, so you’ll probably like it.” 

“Max, I think this is you in a dish.” You joke, making him send an unamused glare to your way. 

“No, schatje, that was a very bad joke.” He announces as he shakes his head. 

You shrug, taking a bite of the oversized pancake as you let out a small sigh. “But this tastes so good, though!” 

Still full from your little culinary tour over the city of Amsterdam, the two of you opt for a very late dinner. By the time you and Max arrive onto the boat he rented out for the night, the night sky is filled with stars, and you can see all of them through the sky roof of the boat. Everything is the epitome of romance, from the way the table is set with a singular rose as its centrepiece, to the moonlit atmosphere of the boat, to the way Max pulls out you chair for you to sit. The two of you enjoy your dinner over a bottle of wine, and by the time the dessert is served, there is a slight tint to both of your cheeks from the alcohol and the laughing. Max holds your hand over the table in his, leaning forward slightly as he makes sure he’s not missing a word of what you’re saying. He realises, in that moment that it doesn’t matter if you’re talking to him about the most exciting thing in the world or the most tedious, he will give up everything to hear the excitement in your voice. 

“Do you remember that restaurant we had dinner in Greece, the one where you had to catch your own fish? The look on your face was hilarious, Max! I don’t think I had more fun in my life than I had in this past few weeks.” You laugh, tilting your head to the side as you lock eyes with the man sitting across from you. “Thank you, my love.”

“You’re welcome.” He replies, tangling his fingers in yours as he smiles – though there is more of a mischievous undertone to it than usual. “I have something for you, but you have to promise me you won’t freak out.” 

You let out a giggle while shaking your head. “Just what every girl wants to hear before receiving a gift from their boyfriends, Maxie.”

“Oh, hush.” He shushes you as he leans sideways for a moment to take out the small bag which was behind one of the legs of his chair. There’s a smile on his face which indicates that he’s proud of himself. “There you go.” 

“Was that there the whole time?” You ask, eyeing the small bag while cautiously playing with the small ribbon tied to one of its handles with your free hand. 

Max gives you yet another one of his unamused looks, motioning the bag with his head. “Will you please just open it?”

“Okay, okay,” You breath out, pulling your hand from its and carefully opening the package, being mindful so that you don’t destroy it completely. You eyebrows furrow as you notice the small box, taking it out and inspecting it before you open it. “It’s a ring.” 

“Yes! Do you like it?” Max asks with a boyish smile. 

“Ring.” 

He nods. “Yes, liefje.”

“Why is it a ring?” You ask, your eyes finally finding his once again. “What kind of ring is it?”

“Well I think it’s gold, darling–”

“Max!” You exclaim, head shaking in disbelief. It is a gold ring, and on it there are engravings of small flowers with carefully placed, small gemstones. 

His expression remains serious for a second, and then he smiles. “I’m not proposing.” He continues as you exhale a relieved breath. “It’s a promise ring,” He clarifies, “I’m not proposing, yet.”  

Your voice is almost inaudibly soft. “A promise ring?”

“Yes, liefje.” He nods and get up from his seat, walking towards your chair and getting on his knees while takin the ring box out of your hands. “It means,” He starts explaining as he takes the ring out and places it on your ring finger. “That one day I will replace it with a real one, and that I can see myself getting old with you.” 

“You can see yourself getting old with me?” You repeat in a breathy voice, even though you’ve been sitting down all the time. 

“Yes, schatje. I call you my ‘love’ at least once a day, I thought that would be an indication of how I feel about you.”

“I know how you feel about me.” You say in a confident voice. “You love me and I love you.” 

“I love you.” He confirms. “And I can’t wait to marry you, one day.” 

“One day.” You affirm. He presses his lips against yours, and as you kiss under the moonlight on a boat in Amsterdam, with Max’s lips tasting like red wine and crème patisserie, you realise just how much you like ‘Vacation Max’. 

#monzabee #requests open #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #formula 1 #fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #imagine #fluff #angst #smut #max verstappen smut #max verstappen fluff

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 14 all chapters

warnings: The Author is choosing not to spoil the chapters with super specific warnings, (honestly they annoy me, sry). From here on out, expect sexual content. This is a yandere fic. If you have squicks, you probably shouldn't be reading this. Ye've been warned. I love you all. Carry on. 😘

-However, when you get back to your hostel, you find the doors are locked. It’s not even that late, and they actually fucking locked you out. Only then do you see the sign outside that proclaims they in fact will do this at the ridiculously early hour of ten o’clock.

“Shit.”

Seemingly calmer now, John slings an arm around your shoulders against the night’s chill. “I’ll get you a room in my hotel;” he promises. “It’s my fault I kept you out so late.”

You would be a liar if you pretended you did not consider the possibilities of this arrangement.

John is staying in a beautiful old boutique hotel with an ornate carved stone façade and wrought iron balconies. As it turns out the room directly next to his is vacant. A miracle, considering it’s the height of the season. He takes you up to get you settled, and brings you one of his t-shirts to sleep in.

Somewhere along the way he’s lost his suit jacket and tie, and you are hypnotized by the sight of him in just his shirt, his trim waist on display.

“Will you help me with my zipper?” you ask. You’re not being completely conniving. A kind comrade at the hostel did assist you in getting dressed in your dorm room.

He helps you like a gentleman with no real funny business, pulling the fine fastening down. You know he can’t help but brush the bare skin of your spine a little with his fingertips, but it is a fight not to squirm with the desire that small touch ignites within you again, moist heat pooling between your thighs. When he finishes the gesture with a seemingly innocent caress of the tops of your shoulders, you burn.

You turn in his arms, feeling the dress falling down your shoulders as you do, and stand on tiptoe to press your lips to his. He freezes for a single moment before his arms wrap around you in answer, holding you so hard you fear your bodies might fuse. He kisses you like he intends to eat you, his tongue sweeping your mouth and warring with yours, his teeth grazing the swell of your lower lip.

A part of you wonders how long its been, since he’s touched a woman. Since his wife passed? Is that why his hands shake as they slide into your hair, pulling just hard enough to get your attention? His mouth finds the line of your neck, branding you with kisses on your sensitive skin. Somehow, your hands work just enough to undo the first three buttons of his shirt, before he catches your mitts in his.

“Wait…” It is hard to tell if it is a request or an order, caught between a pant and a growl. He kisses you again, bending you over backwards and stealing your breath away. “You have had a lot to drink, and I am trying to do this the right way, and I am barely holding on. Please, y/n.” He presses his forehead to yours, as though he can will you to understand what is going on in that mysterious mind by osmosis alone.

“It’s ok,” you try to soothe him, hardly recognizing your own voice. “I want you. I want you so much, and for so long…” If he thinks this all was just a whim of yours brought on by too much alcohol, boy is he mistaken.  

A yip of surprise escapes you as suddenly he lifts you in his arms, as though you weigh nothing at all, carrying you to the bed and pressing you down into the soft mattress with hands on your shoulders, breathing heavily. You reach for him again, starving little thing that you are, but he catches your hands in his. “Stop.”

Thoroughly chastised, you freeze. Again, there’s that steely tone. Wide eyed, you look up at him, his hair a wavy mess from your fingers, his shirt half undone. He is beautiful, and there is something wild in his eyes that takes your breath away.

You are so confused. What did you do wrong?

He lets out a ragged sigh as he straightens, running his fingers through his hair.  

You are soothed a little, when he touches your lifted knee lightly, running fingertips down the blade of your bare shin. With precise fingers he unties the bows of your shoes at your ankles, removing them from your feet and setting them on the floor at the foot of the bed.

The moment his hands are absent from your skin you whine, knowing you sound like a cat in heat, but absolutely too drunk on desire as much as booze to care.  

“Shh,” he says, gentler this time. “We can talk about this in the morning. Right now, you need to get some rest.”

He touches your bare foot, tracing the arch, dwarfing it in his big hands, before turning to go. You sense you really are about to lose him for the night, and in your desperation you play your last card, not knowing where you get the cheek or the bravery to do so.

“But Mr. Wick…” you whine, and he freezes in his tracks. You can see the tension thrumming between his powerful shoulders, fighting with the decision to stay or to go. “Sir, haven’t I been a good girl?”

He turns back to you then, those burning dark eyes narrowed down at you. Just that single look floods you with a searing wave of heat, and you soak through your panties for the umpteenth time that evening. You press your thighs together, trying to relieve some of the agonizing ache this man inspires between your legs.

You’ve never actually done this before with a man, but some woman’s intuition in you knows that at last, you’ve got him in the bag.  

“Young lady, do you know what game you’re playing?” he warns, taking a step closer to the bed.

Maybe he’s right to caution you, but you’ve come too far now to care. “I need you.”

At least that much is true.  

He lets out a shuddering sigh, taking the remaining step to bring him back to you. You reach for him as he bends down, but he catches your hands again with a tut-tutting sound. You are beginning to think he doesn’t want you to see what’s beneath his shirt—which seems absurd, because from what you felt he’s fucking gorgeous and frankly, way fitter than you.

“These stay here,” he directs, pressing your hands above your head. His tone is not harsh this time, but low, still unyielding as stone. You reckon he’s a man who is used to being obeyed. It’s not your strong suit, but there is something buried in you that finds this new game unusually titillating.

“Or what?”

This wins you a dark little chuckle that lifts the hairs all over your body.

“Or, else.”

Something in that last word makes you squirm, and again you press your thighs, the ache you feel there bordering on pain. “Okay,” you agree breathily, too crazed by lust to care how ridiculous you must sound.

Finally, his lips are on yours again, a soft kiss with the barest slide of tongue that only leaves you wanting more, your nipples drawn to painful peaks. You whimper as he withdraws to kiss your throat, then lower on your chest.

“Shh, you needy thing,” he admonishes softly. “Good girls don’t whine.”

Somehow you manage to catch your next little sound in your throat, though it still comes out a strangled peep. You feel him smile over your breast, before he gives the bodice of your dress the slightest tug. In your current state it’s all it takes to bare your pebble-hard nipple to him, which he kisses with tenderest care, flicking his tongue over the bud. It sends spears of pleasure straight to your loins, and in that moment you think you really might die from wanting this man. You writhe beneath him, and without thinking your fingers find their way to his hair, grabbing soft fistfuls of dark curls in your desperation.

Immediately, he stops.

“What did I say about those?”

Suddenly you are on the edge of tears.

“I can’t….”

He stands, and you watch with fascination as those sure fingers flick open the silver buckle of his belt. He whips the leather from the loops with a crack. The sound startles you, your heart skipping a beat in your chest. The tent in his pants is more than impressive, but there is a sharp glint in his eye, and you can’t help but worry a little about what he intends to do with that belt.

With the leather doubled in his hand he caresses the line of your shins. You cannot help but part your legs a little, and he smiles. It’s almost a cruel curl of lips, but you are a broken thing, and all you can manage is anticipation mixed with the slightest bit of fear for what he has planned for that designer strip of leather.

“You will,” he corrects you, looping the belt around your wrists and making a knot. It doesn’t hurt, but…you are genuinely trapped. “Where do these go?”

With a sigh you return them above your head.

“What was that?”

“Here, Sir.”

“That’s my good girl.”

Those four words utterly wreck you.

He returns his attention to your bent legs, his fingertips ghosting up your thighs, higher and higher to disappear under the lace of your skirt. You sigh with relief when his fingers hook in the sides of your silk panties, slowly drawing them down your hips. He smiles wickedly at the damp little bundle in his big hand.

“These are ruined.” He sounds so very pleased about it as he slides them into his pocket.

“Before we even went to dinner,” you confess, and it’s absolutely true. The sharp look he pays you is a breathtaking mix of awe and hunger.

“You really want me so much?” There is an incongruous vulnerability in this question that tugs at your heartstrings, as though he can hardly believe it.

At this point, you might as well go for broke. Maybe he’ll feel less like he’s taking advantage of you if you admit, “I’ve missed you. From the moment I left I haven’t stopped thinking about you.”

  A pained sound escapes from low in his throat at hearing it, and he sits on the bed beside your feet, his touch agonizingly light upon the backs of your calves. He meets your eyes unwaveringly as he pushes your legs apart, gentle but exacting.

You are putty in his hands.

He ducks to kiss just the inside of your knee, lingering there as he looks down upon you completely bared to him. You are sure he can see your folds glistening and swollen, needing him with every iota of your being.

Yet he sits completely still, and the next sound you make more resembles a frustrated little snarl.

“Did you just growl at me?” You can tell by his voice that he is inwardly laughing at you.

Wondering what punishment that would entail, you hold your breath to stay silent.

He ducks lower then, nipping at the inside of your thigh with a harsh little suck, and you know there will be a bruise there in the morning.

“You’re like a fierce little kitten with her claws out. Big eyed and soft and so fucking adorable.”

You’re not sure if you like this or not, but his mouth continues downward, and as he nears the apex of your thighs you forget all about it. When his tongue touches your clit you make a sound like a sob; you’ve never felt anything so good in your life. He circles you slowly, paired with hard laps of the flat of his tongue, and you cannot help but arch into him. The sliding pressure of one of his long fingers inside you is heaven, and yet somehow, not enough.

“God, I want you,” you plead as you writhe against his skilled ministrations. “Let me cum on your big cock buried inside me?”

He makes a low sound deep in his throat in answer, the vibrations themselves are nearly enough to push you over the edge. You feel him shake his head no slowly in answer, his tongue a menace and a marvel as it kneads your sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Please?”

You forget everything in the throes of your desire for him, maybe even your own fucking name, and that is when you make the mistake of moving your hands again, touching his soft hair with your fingertips to get his attention.

He looks up at you then, and you’re not sure how just the lift of an eyebrow can communicate such volumes, but as his eyes meet yours you know you fucked up.

He abandons you in your need, standing beside the bed again. You are too astonished to say anything, just watching him in pure agony. His eyes flick to your wrists, as though he’s considering leaving you trussed like a Christmas goose, before he releases the belt with two sharp tugs.

“We can try this again tomorrow.”

“John…” you’re finally able to protest, hating the broken sound of your voice, your every nerve at painful attention. “Mr. Wick…”

He doesn’t look back until he reaches the door, turning to look over his shoulder with his hand on the handle. He brings his index finger to his mouth, licking the juices you left there, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Don’t even think about touching yourself. That sweet little pussy is mine.”

Shocked and dumbfounded, you watch as he makes his exit through the adjoining door, and locks it behind him. You hear the click, and in all your frustration you throw a pillow across the room, certain he can hear your enraged little shriek.

He makes no answer, letting you stew in the anguish of your unfulfilled desire.

#john wick #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick x y/n #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves #john wick fic #bittersweet john wick imagine #yandere john wick x you #yandere! john wick #yandere #ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[roosterforme]

A Love You Don't Find Everyday Part 13 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You take Bradley's credit card with you to shop for honeymoon attire and decide to give him sneak previews along the way. Then, you make another video to ensure he's well entertained on his deployment.

Warnings: Smut, angst, fluff, and swearing

Length: 3500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

You were enjoying the most leisurely day, strolling around the mall completely solo. You'd sent Bradley off to play golf at seven o'clock with just a peck on the cheek, and then you'd gone back to bed until nine. Now you were sipping an iced coffee and eating a gigantic cinnamon bun, trying to psych yourself up to try on a bunch of lingerie. 

There were some really beautiful things in the window display, and you definitely wanted to run up a large credit card bill for Bradley. But the fluorescent lighting in the fitting rooms always made you cringe. While you told him last night that you'd send him some photos today, you weren't so sure now. The idea of teasing him with some pictures of honeymoon lingerie where all of your imperfections were highlighted had you grimacing. 

"Maybe it won't be so bad," you murmured to yourself as you tossed your trash and headed into the store. 

Thirty minutes later, you had been set up in a fitting room with a plethora of things to try on. You ran your fingers along satin, lace and silk in every color of the rainbow, but especially a little heavy on the red.

"Okay. Showtime." You stripped all of your clothes off and tried not to look in the mirror as you pulled on a stretchy, red lace mini dress. "Holy shit," you muttered, finally looking in the mirror. Everything looked pretty good, even in the bad lighting. Bradley would probably love this one. 

You snapped a few pictures and selected the best one, texting it to him before you could change your mind. You added the caption:

Let's play a game. Rate all of these on a scale of 1 to 10, and I'll buy some of your favorites. 

As soon as you were fastening a black bra, he wrote back.

Bradley Rooster Bradshaw <3 <3 <3: holy shit, i almost walked into a sand trap while i was looking at that. 10/10!

You laughed and added the first item to the keeper pile. Then you snapped a few shots of the black bra that you actually loved and could pair with matching crotchless panties. When you sent a photo and asked what he thought about that, you cackled when he responded. 

Bradley Rooster Bradshaw <3 <3 <3: 10/10! for the love of god, i need you to get that set. promise me right now. 

You promised him you'd get it and added it to the keeper pile. When you sent a photo of a white bridal set complete with garters and stockings, he sent back a selfie of himself in the golf cart with his jaw hanging open and his eyes wide. 

Bradley Rooster Bradshaw <3 <3 <3: don't make me beg. i need to be able to take that off you. 11/10.

You were having so much fun with him, but you simply replied by reminding him to reapply sunblock. And then he wrote back begging for more pictures. You tried on one set in both purple and red and asked which one he liked better.

Bradley Rooster Bradshaw <3 <3 <3: red. always red. but get the purple too. does it come in other colors? 12/10. you are killing me here. gotta play six more holes with my dick kinda hard.

You decided to take photos of everything else you were trying on, and send them sporadically throughout the rest of the afternoon while he and the guys were out drinking. You took the massive pile of things you and he both liked to the register, along with something special for tonight. 

"Wow, you found a lot today!" said the cashier and you just laughed. 

"It's mostly for my honeymoon."

"Congratulations! I guess you don't plan on leaving the hotel room with your spouse at all?" she asked with a grin.

You pressed your lips together before muttering, "That's the plan."

She snorted and told you about the boutique website where you could order personalized items as well. "Here, I'll give you a free shipping code. Your total is one thousand two hundred and twenty seven dollars."

You handed her Bradley's credit card with a satisfied smirk. If he wanted you to run up his credit card bill with this stuff, you'd add some personalized items when you got home and make it even worse. 

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

Bradley felt overstimulated and twitchy. You were an absolute menace, sending him photo after photo all day long. You were wearing bras that showed everything. You were wearing sheer dresses that hugged your curves. You were wearing panties that showed off your tattoo. He saved each new image as they arrived, already thinking about using them to jerk off while he was deployed in a few weeks. 

"Why are you so distracted?" Jake asked as Bradley saved a photo of you wearing a red string bikini with the side tied above your tattoo. "Oh, Angel's sending you porn."

Bradley hid his phone screen and glared. "It's not porn," Bradley said, glancing at the photo again. The top was barely covering your nipples. He licked his lips and said, "It's just a bathing suit." 

"That looked like less than a bathing suit," Jake replied, switching out his five iron. 

"Stop looking at it!" Bradley grunted. 

"Stop looking at what?" Payback asked, adjusting his gloves. 

Jake nodded toward Bradley's phone. "His girl sent him dirty photos."

"Lucky," echoed Fanboy, Coyote and Payback in perfect unison.

"They are not dirty photos. She's out shopping," he said, not sure what he was trying to defend here. You were about to become his wife. You loved each other. Nothing was actually inappropriate. "You know what, yeah. She's sending me dirty photos." All the guys put their fists out for a fist bump, except for Bob who was blushing and rummaging around in his golf bag looking for his putter. 

"Come on, Bob," Payback called. "This is fist bump worthy!"

Bob just shook his head. "Don't you guys remember when she yelled at us for being crude? She literally lined us up in their living room and ripped us apart. I'm showing nothing but respect."

"Oh shit, I remember," Coyote said. "It's why we're all jealous of Rooster. She's protective."

Bradley just grinned and passed out some cans of beer for them to all drink during the end of their round of golf.

"Eighteenth hole," he announced, tucking his phone away. "Then bar hopping."

The guys all cheered and headed toward the tee.

And this was precisely why Bradley had always preferred to hang around with Nat. Because even when he was just hooking up with women, back before he met you, he never liked the banter and always tried to keep things like this private. 

Bradley played the last hole terribly as you sent him another photo of you wearing a few scraps of black fabric with garters while he was trying to putt. You were so pretty, bright eyes looking at the camera as if you were really looking at him. He wanted to skip out on the afternoon of drinking, but he knew the guys would never let him live it down. 

So he told you he would be home after they went to the steakhouse for dinner, and you told him not to rush. Apparently you had some online shopping to do.

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

You were going way overboard now with Bradley's credit card, but you couldn't help yourself. This website had the most adorable satin underwear that you could personalize with anything you wanted. You were up to five pairs in your shopping cart and counting. Your favorite ones were going to be embroidered with Daddy's Baby Girl. You even decided to get a blue thong with Mrs. Bradshaw across the front to go under your wedding dress, even though you weren't sure about changing your name yet. 

You yawned and figured you should probably do something with your day besides shop for expensive underwear. So you took Tramp for a walk to the bay, emailed your wedding photographer, did some meal prepping, and made yourself a grilled cheese sandwich doused in hot sauce for dinner. Then you carefully hand washed some of your new lingerie and set aside the items you were going to wear tonight. 

Bradley Rooster Bradshaw <3 <3 <3: i'll be home soon, baby girl. jake's dropping me off

You quickly got changed into the pastel pink bustier and matching thong and pulled your jeans back on. With a grin, you decided the bustier could pass for a top and just left your outfit at that. Tramp started barking as Jake pulled into the driveway, and a moment later, Jake was following Bradley inside. 

"I told you to reapply sunblock!" you said immediately, taking in both sunburned men. "You guys look like lobsters."

Bradley wrapped his arms around you and started kissing your neck. "It's just a little pink," he insisted, running his fingers along your top and smiling. "You look pretty."

"And you look sweaty and smell like cheap beer."

"You love cheap beer," Bradley insisted, making you laugh.

"How much did you drink?"

He nodded his head and sighed. "Plenty. But I'm fine, Sweetheart."

Jake walked past and messed up your hair on his way to the kitchen. "I'm just getting some water and then I'm leaving," he insisted. "I can tell the Bradshaws need some time alone."

"Never stopped you from hanging around and being annoying before," Bradley told him as he looked down at your chest with interest. "Did you buy this today?" he asked softly. "You must have. I know your inventory by heart."

You nodded. "Do you like it?"

"Mmhmm."

"Feel like making another video?"

"Hell yes."

"Go get in the shower, Roo."

You watched him dash into your bedroom just as Jake walked back out of the kitchen with a water bottle. "I'm not gonna stay, Angel," Jake drawled, taking a sip of water. "Just wanted to say you looked real nice in that red bikini," he said, ducking out of the way of your hand aiming to smack him.

"How did you see it?" you asked, pushing him toward the front door while he howled with laughter. 

"He had his phone out all day, mooning over the smut you were sending him! It was right there on the screen!"

"Go away. Goodbye. Thanks for driving Bradley home. See you on Monday," you said, pecking him on the cheek before shoving him out the door. 

By the time you got to your bedroom, Bradley was walking out of the ensuite with a towel wrapped around his waist. He was sunburned and tipsy and so endearingly adorable, you started giggling. 

"My phone battery is almost dead, Baby Girl. Please tell me yours is good to go," he said, leaning against the doorframe, looking at you with one eyebrow raised. 

"Yep, My phone is good to go. Are you good to go, Roo? I can't tell if your cheeks are rosy from the sunburn or the drinks," you said, teasing his abs with your fingers. 

"I'm always good to go for you," he promised, and you knew it was the truth. 

You unwrapped the yellow towel from his waist and licked your lips at the sight of him half hard. "Go get in bed," you whispered, and he was on his way. He watched you shimmy out of your jeans and grab your phone. You crawled up the bed next to him and whispered, "You want me to be your bratty little slut again tonight? Or are you going to be my Daddy?"

He pulled you close and kissed you. "I get to choose?" 

"Yeah," you told him with a wink. "A special treat to take on your deployment."

He was rubbing his hands along your bustier and down over your butt. "Well, I already have a video with my bratty little slut," he said, and you watched his cock jump against his thigh. "Daddy wants to play tonight. You look like a little princess in this color."

You moaned against his mouth. "Sounds good to me," you said, fiddling with your phone and letting him hold it as he started recording you. You watched Bradley grin as he pushed your underwear aside a bit to record you shaking your hips with your tattoo exposed. "Did you just call me a princess?" 

"Yeah," he grunted as you wrapped your hand around his length. "Daddy's little princess, all pretty in pink."

For a moment you marveled over the fact that you had an easier time slipping into the role of a bratty little slut. But after a moment of wiggling yourself along his body, you thought you had the hang of Daddy's princess.

"Daddy, I had such a long day," you said, a whine tingeing the edges of your voice as you straddled his lap and ran your fingers along your lace and satin covered torso. "I am exhausted from spending your money."

Bradley groaned softly, setting goosebumps loose across your skin. "Tell me what you bought, Princess," Bradley instructed, grinding his cock against the front of your panties. He ran his thumb along your bottom lip, parting them and coaxing you to lick the tip. "And then tell Daddy he's allowed to do whatever he wants with you."

You sucked on his thumb. Bradley was the hottest thing in the world. As you listed off some of the things you bought with his credit card, Bradley gently wrapped one hand around the front of your neck and then pulled the pink fabric of your underwear to the side, letting his cock glide through your wetness. You only briefly recognized that he had propped your phone up to record everything before you got lost in him completely. 

"And how much of my money did you spend, Princess?" he asked, his raspy voice making you even wetter as he licked his lips. 

"Two thousand dollars," you gasped as his big hand slipped lower on your neck and trailed over the tops of your breasts. 

He tsked with his tongue and shook his head. "That's not enough."

"I was supposed to spend more?" you asked, your voice breaking as Bradley slipped his cock inside you. He yanked you closer with his fingers on the back of your neck, and you gasped as he started kissing you. 

"You were supposed to spend all of it. Why does Daddy even work, other than to pamper you, Baby Girl?" You squeezed around his cock just at the mere implication of his words. 

"Are you going to take care of me forever?" you asked softly against his lips as you rode him slowly. He responded by swiping his tongue deep into your mouth and making you moan. 

"As long as you take care of Daddy."

You were whimpering now as your clit was grinding against him with each movement. 

"You can have anything you want," you promised him. And you felt it before you saw it. Bradley ripped the crotch of your pretty, new underwear to get full access to your pussy. He was suddenly fucking up into you hard, the veins in his neck and forehead prominent against his slightly sunburned skin.

"Oh my god!" you hissed, surprised by what he had done. 

But no sooner had you recovered before he was smacking your thighs gently and saying, "Up. Turn around and get on all fours."

You did as you were told, watching his wet length slide out of you, wishing you were allowed to lick him. But that's not what Daddy wanted. 

When you were on your hands and knees in front of him, he pushed your face down against the bedding before kissing and licking all along your wet slit and rear end from behind. 

"You didn't listen, Princess," he said before lapping his tongue against you. "Gotta spank you."

He landed one hard slap on your butt before you could even respond. "Daddy," you whined as he spanked you again and again. You felt feverish with need while he spanked you and scolded you for not spending enough money on honeymoon attire. You were clenching around nothing as he told you to go back to the store and replace the underwear that was now just a piece of elastic around your waist. 

He spanked you harder as he said, "If you're my Princess, you can have anything you want."

"I want you to fuck me!" you almost screamed as his hand landed on you again. But you knew he wasn't going to do that yet. Rather he lightly spanked your pussy from behind, his fingers hitting your wet clit as you whined. 

Then he shoved two long fingers deep inside you without warning and leaned up to press his lips to your neck right below your ear. You almost cried when he whispered, "What's my name?"

"Daddy!" Your broken yell filled the room. "I want you to fuck me, Daddy!"

His cock replaced his fingers immediately, and he fucked you hard, your cheek pressing into the bed. But the spanking only paused momentarily. He grabbed you around your waist with his left hand, getting a handful of you just below your bustier while he landed a stinging slap on your already overworked skin. All while slamming into you. 

"You didn't do what Daddy wanted."

"Please." You were almost crying, and you wanted to cum so badly. "I'll do whatever you want."

"You go back to the store and spend more money. I want you wearing something new for me each day on our honeymoon. No exceptions." 

You tried your best to verbally agree with him, and soon he wrapped his fingers around to tease your clit instead of spank you. With just a few swipes of his talented fingers, you came hard, a few of your tears trailing along your nose to the bedding. 

The familiar sound of Bradley cumming inside your pussy had you smiling at last as he filled you up. He wrapped both arms around you and yanked you up flush against his chest. "You really are Daddy's little Princess, Baby GIrl."

You moaned softly as he kissed along your bare shoulder. "Occasionally I'm your bratty little slut."

"I love you," he promised, and he let you lay against him as he eased back against the pillows, his cock still buried inside you.

"My ass is throbbing, Roo," you whispered with a soft laugh as he ran his mustache along your neck. 

"But you did so good. I'll get you in the bath in a minute, Sweetheart."

You just relaxed back into his embrace while he touched and kissed you. "I hope you enjoy that video while you're deployed." You kissed along his tattoo and ran the tip of your nose across the pretty script writing.

"I can guarantee I will," he promised, finally reaching for your phone to end the video. 

You turned and smiled at him when he said, "And now I have several minutes of us cuddling together to watch as well. I might watch that part the most."

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

Bradley scooped you up and carried you to the bathroom, setting you on the edge of the tub while he got the water ready for you. He wasn't kidding; he'd always do his best to take care of you and give you anything you wanted. Because you tried to take care of him, too. And you were really all he wanted. 

"Climb in, Sweetheart," he whispered, and he watched you unfasten what was left of that sinfully hot lingerie and sink into the water. "I'm sorry I ripped your underwear."

You started laughing as you turned to look at him. "You're not sorry!"

He grimaced. "I'm a little bit sorry. Buy a new one. You still have my credit card." He knelt on the floor next to the tub and helped you get settled.

"I'll buy a new one next week when I go back to the store to ensure I have something new to wear for all ten days of our honeymoon. Daddy told me I had to."

Bradley actually felt himself blushing. He liked it when you called him that even when it wasn't exactly part of foreplay or bedroom activities. You were making him feel so substantial in your life. 

"Roo, next weekend is Halloween," you whispered as he sat on the floor and watched you wash your arms while Tramp curled up in his lap. "Gotta start planning our party."

"We're really having it? I thought maybe you brought that up just to distract Cam and Maria from the wedding conversation?" he absentmindedly stroked Tramp's ears, completely mesmerized by you. 

"We're really having it. And I know just what our costumes can be," you said with a playful look in your eye.

"Tell me," he whispered, leaning toward you and kissing your nose. 

"Well... I think you can get away with wearing part of your dress whites for your costume..."

He smiled. "Okay, sounds good so far. I love it when you take my uniforms off of me. But what's your costume?"

You just chuckled and said, "Oh, you'll like it. And it comes with three wishes for me to grant for you."

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

Making another video....oof, I love them. Happy Halloween? Any costume guesses?

PART 14

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

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#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x you #rooster fanfic #rooster x female reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster x reader #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun imagine

[equallyshaw]

ᴅᴀʏ ꜰɪᴠᴇ: ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴀ ᴡᴏɴᴅᴇʀꜰᴜʟ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ - ɴɪᴄᴏ ʜɪꜱᴄʜɪᴇʀ

part of holidays with equallyshaw

warnings: none! just not a great piece lol.

word count: 1.5k

ɴɪᴄᴏ ʜᴀᴅ ʙᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇᴅ that he had been touch by angel, the first time he saw celine for the first time. and when he spoke to her, he believed in them. celine bernard, ever cunning (in a good way!) and sweet fell head over heels that night. hands were held, kisses on the cheeks were given and a promise to see one another - soon. her cheeks full of crimson and his whole being full of butterflies. a grin erupted on her face, when he walked her back to her apartment in new york, whispering promises to one another- what a wonderful world, she thought.

❅

that was 2 years ago now, at this point. a year went and came, and ended with an engagement- the couple head over absolute heels with one another. everybody in their respective friend groups and families knew the moment they met their partner, and saw how they interacted, they knew they were it for one another. and now 2 years in, they were to be wed. at the most unconventional time, but that's just who they were. the two were to be wed on friday, December 22nd at the courthouse, before spending the evening with their closest loved ones at a small boutique hotel in west village on the 24th of december.

after a win against the red wings, nico quickly whisked his partner away for a dinner in manhattan before heading over to the hotel in west village. "

"can you really believe were actually married?" she said hushed, as she leaned in towards nico. he smiled, taking ahold of her hand from across the table, "yeah, i can." the ever confidant nico gushed and she rolled her eyes softly. "ever the charmer love." she hummed, before taking a sip from the champagne fluke.

❅

the morning of, celine woke up just in time for a brunch with her bridesmaids, his mother and her mom. she had a spring in her step, the moment she stood up. she quickly made her way into the hallway heading upstairs to the insulated rooftop restaurant. she heard cheers, as soon as she stepped off the elevator and she quickly found her wedding party. "hi mutter." she said hugging her mother in law, and katja gave her a long and warm hug. she then turned towards her mom who pulled her in, making celine smile. "thankyou for being here, i appreciate each and every one of you." she smiled sitting down and raising a mimosa. the girls clinked their glasses together, feeling the heavy presence of champagne. making the new yorker grin.

❅

celine stood in front of her floor length mirror, smoothing down her silk white dress. her silver jimmy choo shoes clinking as she went to go grab her glass of water, and feeling startled when she heard a knock on her door. she sat it down, and hurried over. she opened it to nico looking absolutely smashing in his black tuxedo, he got customized just for this special occasion. it had her initials sewn into the border of the interior. he smiled widely, holding up the blush pink peonies in his hand. she smiled, opening up the door wider and letting him walk in. as soon as he shut it, nico took her hand to twirl her around a few times. "shcatzi." he hummed lowly, before pulling her in by the hips. he sighed heavily, while looking down at his wife. "hi ni. im almost ready, and then we can head down." she hummed trying to get out of his hold but he didn't budge. she giggled, "seriously two minutes and im good." she said but he still didn't move, "nico. im serious." she giggled, as pulled her in closer. "just one kiss. all i want." he grinned, and she rolled her eyes playfully whilst leaning up to give him a quick peck. "satisfied?" she questioned, quirking an eyebrow. "it'll do, for right now." he hummed letting her move away and finish making sure her makeup was complete.

❅

the two made their way into the small reception, immediately greeted with cheers and whistles. the two weaved themselves through tables up towards the center one that held their grooms and bridesmaids. she sat down after nico pulled out her chair for her, before draping an arm around her chair. he leaned in closely, "thankyou for making me the happiest man alive." and those chocolate swiss eyes poured into her soul, sending a good shiver up her spine. she smiled widely, "and thankyou for me making me the happiest woman alive." she hummed before closing the distance between them. it was cut short when the mc for the night waltzed up to the center of the dance floor - taking in all of the attention - and glimmering.

"welcome ladies and gents to the celebration of our favorite humans - celine and nico hischier!" jack began, waiting for the cheers to subside. "whom i promised not to embarrass them or at least not horribly..." he trailed off, causing celine to push her forehead into nico's shoulder. "i kid i kid, but im incredibly honored to have been chosen to speak with you all tonight and possibly steal their thunder." jack joked causing celine to chuckle, leaning into nico. "when i first met celine, i was dumbfounded. and yes, i know that's a big word i know." he said through chuckles, "but i was. i didn't understand how nico could have found what he had found in celine. she was an angel, absolutely the kindest person we'd have ever met. need soup when your sick? she's already coming over with homemade soup. need a pick me up? ready with her - well nicos credit card to grab a coffee or tea, to cheer us up. need a birthday gift? she's got the most thoughtful present at the ready." he paused, "need some real below the deck advice or wake up call? yeah... she's got you." he trailed off, causing the crowd to laugh as he looked back at the two. "then we've got nico..who with his ever charming swiss ways somehow charming miss celine." jack began, earing a playful glare from the captain. "i remember the night when the two of them met, nico called me as soon as he had dropped her off at her apartment. this man was speaking a mile a minute, and it was about 1 in the morning and so i just hung up on him. then an hour later, i get a call from tyler and he is screaming at me because nico ended up calling tyler-" and celine cut him off, "uncle tyler!" she yelled out causing the devils players to laugh. that was his nickname on the team, and tyler adored it.

"yes! uncle tyler, she is the one that came up with that beautiful nickname and now we tease him with it. but anywho! i got an earful that evening and then the next day when we went in. safe to say i never hang up on nico anymore, because ill have tyler to hear from but also ms. celine." he paused, laughing with the crowd. "but seriously, i couldn't have picked a better ending for the two of you, my closet confidants and best friends- congratulations again. so glad you arent as grumpy as you were before." he finished, causing celine to laugh loudly with the rest of the players. a running joke on the team before celine appeared, was that he was a grumpy captain or captain 'serious'.

celine turned towards nico smiling like a fool, "that was fun!" she beamed and he mimicked her, "that was fun." and she giggled. the couple then turned towards their best man and maid of honor and conversed as the food made its way out.

❅

celine sat there watching her friends and family converse with one another while basking in some quiet minutes before she'd inevitably get up to dance. she was sipping some champagne when nico gave her a quick kiss on her head, before sitting down next to her. "hi hun, you ok?" he questioned, his brown eyes flashing concern. she nodded, seeing that emotion fade. "just taking all of this in, not every day my whole family is all in one place." she hummed, setting down her champagne. "i got worried there for a second, when you didn't come see my aunt. thought you'd run off." he said leaning back a bit, and rubbing her upper back softly. she nodded, "sorry! my sister was trying to tell me something that's all. and then i saw that you had moved on so i sat down." she explained, "but i promise ill come find you if i need a breather." she hummed and he nodded.

"i still cant believe this is my life. " she said drinking more of the golden drink, "I've waited my entire life to experience the love i saw my parents show and have, and i found that with you. and i couldn't be more thankful this christmas." she said tilting her head just a bit, as he smiled. "im thankful every day the love that youve given and shown me, and im thankful for the person I've become since the minute i met you. i adore this life and you, celine hischier." and she smiled, "and i adore you, mr.hischier." she smiled before he placed a hand on her cheek, pulling her in for a big kiss.

oh, what a wonderful world the two have.

god this is horrible, but i needed to get it out. such bad writers block rn lmao

tags: @toasttt11 @dancerbailey3 @jayda12 @jackhues @cuttergauthier

#nico hischier #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier blurb #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl blurb #hockey blurb #hockey imagine #jack hughes #equallyshaw masterlist #holidays with equallyshaw

[lisbeth-kk]

December moments

Prompts used in this chapter: feast - miracle

It’s Christmas! For Sherlock that is, and we all know what that entails…

December 22

John feels like a new man the next morning. Sherlock’s massage the night before had been divine to say the least, and all his silly worries dissipated. When he was nothing more than a boneless mass, filled to the brim with serenity and love for his sweetheart, John had confessed. 

“I just had doubts about a gift, and I know it’s utterly idiotic to almost go into a depressive state, but…”

Sherlock put his finger to John’s lips and shook his head. 

“Let it be a surprise, and I promise I’ll try not to deduce it. I’m not particularly fond of seeing you out of sorts like this, and I’m glad it’s over,” Sherlock said seriously, which made John’s heart clench. 

Sherlock had really been worried about him, but hadn’t pestered him too much about it, but found his own way to let John come clean on his own. 

“My genius,” John murmured and kissed said genius thoroughly.

***

Just after noon, John and Sherlock found themselves deeply preoccupied with a double murder in a luxury suite at The Hand & Flower Hotel in Hammersmith. It’s a small Victorian boutique hotel with only eight rooms. The downstairs pub had been filled with cheerful patrons the night before, making the list of suspects to questioned quite extensive. Luckily Lestrade took care of that while Sherlock surveyed the crime scene. 

It was a horrible sight that met them, and both John and Sherlock had a grim look on their faces when they realised what had happened. In the middle of the king size bed, two naked men where embracing. If one didn’t look too closely it could seem that they were just sleeping, but the stiffness of their bodies and the foam around their mouths told another story. 

“Poisoning,” they murmured in unison. 

Before Sherlock got to work, he grabbed John’s hand and squeezed it hard. John looked at him, nodded and squeezed back equally hard. 

*** 

Friends and family of the victims weren’t aware that they were having a love affair. Both men were married. To women. Delicacy was required and Lestrade was reluctant to let Sherlock question the wives. 

“Well, if you don’t want to increase your solution rate, it’s hardly my problem,” Sherlock told Greg, and beckoned John to come with him to leave the Yarders alone. 

They had reached the kerb when the small and unexpected miracle occurred. John heard Sally quarrel with Greg, and to John’s astonishment she was the one who wanted Greg to call Sherlock back. 

“I’ll be damned,” John whispered to Sherlock who just smirked and winked at John. 

***

In the cab ride home, they decided to treat themselves to a feast of Chinese take-away. It didn’t take Sherlock’s remarkable brain to suspect that one or both wives were the culprits, but it was only he that was able to shatter their alibies to pieces. 

“Christmas came early for you this year, my love,” John whispered when their Chinese feast was devoured, and they were cuddled up on the sofa.

“A bit not good, John,” Sherlock murmured before he made an impressive love mark on John’s neck. 

Read it on AO3

@totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @calaisreno @a-victorian-girl @phoenix27884 @safedistancefrombeingsmart @sabsi221b @gregorovitchworld @raina-at @helloliriels @topsyturvy-turtely

#christmas ficlet prompts #sherlock fandom #sherlock #john watson #greg lestrade #sally donovan #johnlock #sherlock fanfic #bbc sherlock #ao3 fanfic #december moments #respite in december

[nodominion]

Rue Royale | Rose & Viktor | Vamptember Day 24 (Free Day) | Claudia Day 7

Rose wants to see Rue Royale to connect with her lost sister, Claudia. Viktor is there as moral support. Tagging this for Claudia Appreciation Week as well, though it does not have Claudia in it, it is about her. @claudiadelionlac

Like mortals, summer became a quieter time at the chateau, though their reason differed from the mortals. While mortals cavorted in the extra heat and sunshine, vampires were confined to shorter waking hours. Only the ancients or those with extraordinarily powerful blood could overcome the rising sun, though even they were constrained to a time limit. Rose was able to stave off the effects of the sun for a few extra minutes, giving her the chance to look over Viktor as he slept, smooth his hair, kiss his temple without him reacting, she still succumbed without fail. In the evenings it was Viktor who rose first, though Rose never had confirmation whether he was as affectionate as she was before drifting off.

Since the summers at the castle were so quiet, they always took advantage of the time to travel themselves. Of course they promised to be careful, to be smart, to not arouse any suspicion. She would have thought that after almost a decade of them exploring the world that Lestat would have lightened up a little, but he was always so serious the night before Viktor and she were due to leave. This trip would take them across the Atlantic, far too long for them to fly on their own. While they were both skilled flyers, any ocean was a step too far. This trip Lestat himself offered to take them both, an offer so sweet that Rose couldn’t help but kiss his cheek. After that meeting she was sure that the only reason he suggested himself was because they were going to New Orleans.

Neither of them had been in the city, and with it holding so much history for their kind, their family, they both knew it was long overdue.  Louis had said nothing when she told him of their plans, at least not at first. But Louis was often silent during many of Rose’s ramblings, simply taking in what she had to say. She was flighty by nature, so perhaps he didn’t take her initial statement as seriously as she had been. It wasn’t until she and Viktor were confirming places to visit, venues to pretend to eat at, that Louis had rested his hand on her shoulder, quietly saying that they should try to have a good time, that the city was prime for youth and vitality, and that they ought to explore the city as it is now. The unspoken part of his words was not to go seeking the past.

But that was the whole point of the trip for Rose. Viktor was less convinced that they would find anything worthwhile at Rue Royale, but Rose was sure she would see a connection or feel something that explained so much of their lives. While he didn’t fully understand her need to see the house for herself, he was supportive of her idea, insisting that he join her when she visited the home. Rose didn’t overly like the idea of him feeling the need to look after her, but she was grateful that he wanted to support her. Viktor was often that way, with less ideas of where they should travel but with all of the encouragement in the world for her usual half-baked ideas.

They packed light, only what they could carry, and not very heavy items so as not to encumber Lestat. He would never tell them if what they brought was too heavy, but to save his muscles it felt better to be considerate. The trip to America meant that Lestat could visit Trinity, and Louis had already made plans to join them in New York after a few days. Let Lestat and Armand work out their pent up desires on their own. 

The hotel was in the French Quarter, but not one of the most popular. Smaller, boutique hotels often acquiesced to their strange requests better than hotels that had a larger clientele base. Especially with a few extra bills slipped in during check in. Lestat left them soon after, kissing both of their heads, telling them to be good and if they needed a tour guide he would be back in the city sooner than one could say laissez le bon temps rouler.

Viktor’s hand pressed on her shoulder, eager to begin their exploration. But it was Rose who tempered his excitement. After all, she couldn’t sense Lestat and if he was lingering in the city then only he would be able to sense where Lestat was. Rose wasn’t convinced that Lestat had left New Orleans, sure that he was hanging around, at least for a bit, to ensure that they were getting on properly.

So they became drunk college students for the night. Screw the fact that Rose was turned at 20 and Viktor at 19, they were able to get into every bar they wanted and order drinks for those they thought smelled divine. They got a little blood drunk and blended in with the mortals cavorting in the streets. It felt like the ideal cover to act so uninhibited. They were both careful with how they took blood, not a drop spilt, and if Lestat had still been spying on them all he would have seen is them acting their age. Nevermind that Rose turned 30 this year, and Viktor 29. They were being normal. Not preoccupied with events from centuries before. 

They waited a few days before they went in search of the past. Their nights had been filled with sightseeing and little adventures. They dined at the best restaurants, Rose sometimes biting a bit of the food only to be disappointed each time. If this were merely a simple vacation, they had done their best to have a wonderful time, both beginning to understand why this city entranced anyone who came close to it. There was an air to New Orleans wholly different from the rest of the South. Though she’d grown up near Miami, as far south as south goes, she and her aunts had gone on quite a few road trips to states their car could reach comfortably. She wondered if Lestat had instructed them to never enter Louisiana, but that hardly mattered now. The city and the outskirts beckoned, and they were both enjoying it immensely. From flowers that seemed to never stop blooming to even a pre-season football game that had begun just at dusk. 

But Rue Royale waited impatiently. Rose kept her hand tight in Viktor’s as they walked the street up to the home, certainly squeezing his palm though aware she could not hurt him.

“Do you think it’s just as they left it?”

“No, Rose. Don’t you remember? Lestat wrote of this place recently. How the furnishings were modern and it was maintained. They could turn it into a museum, most likely, but neither of them ever would.”

“That would be too much for them to bear. Our fathers. Well, some of our fathers.”

Rose never begrudged Viktor holding Seth and Fareed as his primary parents, and Lestat and Louis as his secondary pair. She understood that he grew up among scientists and labs and beakers and she grew up with luxury and excess and privilege. Their second daughter, however. Not that Louis had much of a say in the matter. But he loved her now just as Lestat did, just as they both did Viktor, and if their words were not enough, it was clear from the way they looked at both of their children, especially when they thought Viktor or Rose weren’t looking at them. 

The gate was secure and neither one of them wished to break it. It was lovely, with clear craftsmanship put into every detail, each swirl expertly wrought. They opted to fly over instead, landing gently in the back garden, a fountain gurgling nearby. 

“We did not think this through. We have no key. We cannot break in like a pair of hooligans!”

“Charming, did you think I didn’t come prepared?”

From her boot, Rose pulls out a key, waving it in front of Viktor’s face.

“I found the spare at the castle and made a duplicate. Put the original back before they ever knew it was missing.”

She earns a kiss from Viktor for being the one to actually think ahead for once. Using the key at the back door, there was half a second where neither of them were sure that it would work, but the door opened upon a back parlor. Rose tentatively stepped in first, an odd sensation passing over and through her. Not a chill, not like the way others talk of ghosts, but a sense that she was stepping into a place where she didn’t belong. 

Viktor thankfully locked the door behind them, though it was unnecessary, it did help to ease her mind. The parlor itself seemed typical. The furnishings matched the time period based on her study of the years that this house had been occupied by three vampires. There were a few modern touches, but to her untrained eye they were easy to miss. Viktor didn’t remark on the decor either, instead making his way further into the home, to the stairs, flicking a light on, though their vampire eyes had been able to see properly in the dark. Some of the bulbs still emitted an incandescent light, and Rose reached up out of curiosity to feel the burgeoning warmth. 

“We should tell them to get those energy efficient bulbs. These can’t be good on their electric bill.”

“Or the environment. If we are meant to live forever then we must live sustainably.” Though Viktor’s words were earnest, even he knew that a vampire’s life inherently meant living unsustainably. There was a meeting once with the council with a group of younger vampires who had all grown up with climate change as part of their human education. The elders were not phased by their calls for the coming end of the world, as they could survive without humans if need be, and live only off of the blood of animals, or the prisoners far beneath the council chamber. 

As Viktor began to head up the stairs, Rose stayed behind. She was trying to picture what this room would have been like for her fathers and their daughter. Did they sit together reading, writing, playing small games? Were they happy? Could they have been? Even with both Louis’s and Lestat’s account of those years she could never imagine an average night for them. Their lives now were so much more complicated, with the court and playing host for guest vampires from all over the world. They all made time for leisure, but the nagging feeling of needing to get something done always lingered. 

She sat in one of the chairs, running her fingers across a table’s edge. Dust, but minimal. Vampire dwellings were never quite as dusty as human ones. Did her sister, the one she was deprived of ever meeting, sit in this chair? Did she see the way the moonlight filtered through the curtains in the same way Rose was watching it now? The brightest light in the night’s sky. They would never see the sun again. The sun had been taken from them, though Viktor and Rose had been given a choice. The one…

I’ve found her room.

Viktor spoke into her mind, rousing her from her thoughts. She was incapable of sending back a reply, but she rose from the chair, sensing out her mate through the house, taking note of the decor, the deliberate choices that must have come from a woman’s touch. 

The room instantly made her think of her own bedroom in the house she’d lived in the longest. With Aunt Marge and Aunt Julie and so much pink it felt like an explosion of everything feminine. Here, the pinks were muted, in tones that were achievable before modern methods of color fabrication. The bed was made, a doll sitting in the middle of the pillows, its blonde curls perfectly styled to frame the angelic face. The room smelled of nothing, disappointing Rose. She had hoped to find a perfume that had been left behind, or perhaps a scent that lingered on the sheets. But there was nothing, nothing to truly help her envision what life was like here. 

Sitting at the edge of the bed, she reaches down to caress the doll. How long had it been sitting here? Who had placed it? Was it as old as her fathers, or was it a new purchase? One for a daughter that was lost but never forgotten. 

The pain was unfathomable, as if all of the anger and hatred and suffering that existed here was coursing through Rose currently. To be underestimated by all, with little recourse to change how her sister had been perceived. If… but what could Rose have done? Lestat had wanted a sibling for the home in Antoine and that plan disintegrated. Rose wouldn’t have existed in that time to begin with. And if she had, she was sure that her existence would be looked down upon with the same harsh cruelty. 

She hadn’t spoken since they were downstairs, and Viktor was equally quiet, letting her absorb this moment. Rose looks back to him, taking his hand, kissing his knuckles. “Thank you for coming with me. Can you give me a few minutes? I’ll be down soon, I just want some time alone.”

He nods with such ease that perhaps he had been thinking of suggesting he leave her for a bit. Ever the gentleman, Viktor kisses her hair before vanishing, the room suddenly colder in his absence. 

Rose picks up the doll properly, setting it in her lap, combing through the curls with her fingers, though not to loosen them. This would be the closest she would ever get to Claudia. Until she herself died, of course. 

“I’m sorry. You don’t know me but… I’m sorry I couldn’t do anything to help you. I would… you could have my body if it was possible, but I… you deserved a chance to live. To live properly. I’d always wanted siblings. The curse of the only child. You… we could have been sisters. Claudia… I don’t know if you still hate our fathers. But I will try to love them for both of us. They deserve that, at the very least.”

With a kiss to the doll’s forehead, Rose arranges it back upon the bed as it had been, smoothing the sheets so no one would be the wiser that anyone had been here. Viktor was on the road already, smelling flowers that wove their way through the bars of the gate by the sidewalk. The moment he sensed Rose he opened his arms for her, and she ran to him, embracing him tightly. Though she did not cry, it felt as though she were releasing all of the emotions of the house, the home, the past that neither of them had had a chance to experience. Hand in hand they began to walk the streets of New Orleans, hunting for prey as had been tradition in this city for hundreds of years. 

#rose de lioncourt #viktor de lioncourt #claudia de lioncourt #rue royale #vamptember #claudiaappreciationweek2023

[secularbakedgoods]

Runners

(science fiction, 1100 words)

It’s the end of the fiscal year. Hunting season has begun.

Ultimately, it all kicked off with the invention of the “workplace transparency plan.” As ad revenue stagnated, social platforms instead offered corporate clients access to their employees’ private messages. For a small subscription fee, employers could learn who their workers were communicating with and retaliate as they saw fit.

Within months, an entire industry of talent recruiters found themselves stonewalled by a terrified workforce. With electronic communication lost to them, the recruiters — far behind on their quotas — resorted to more drastic methods.

Strive Solutions is a midsize software company on the third floor of a converted building in the old warehouse district. Its two vintage elevators are too old to support ID card readers, so a pair of security doors flanking the reception area are all that stand between potential intruders and Strive’s inner sanctum.

A few minutes past 3:00 in the afternoon, both elevators open and the mob piles out.

Runners always raid in force, the better to overwhelm any on-site security. Where once the typical recruiter was a bland, nonthreatening thirtysomething in business-casual pastels, now they trend toward linebackers’ builds and stab vests. Those who aren’t the general size and shape of a refrigerator are the most dangerous of all — quick, clever, and vicious.

Not one of them is over the age of 30. Running is a youngster’s game.

The security doors are RFID-locked, but made of glass. Somebody puts a boot through one of them, and the runners barely slow as they stampede through.

The bulk of Strive’s employees work in an open-plan area referred to as “the Pit” whenever management isn’t around. The runners swarm through it with ease, unhindered by hallways or doors, vaulting over desks and chairs when they need to.

Certain pieces of equipment are standard. Every runner carries a tablet, ruggedized to withstand all sorts of abuse and equipped with a fingerprint scanner. A simple swipe of a new recruit’s thumb and the contract is sealed, filed instantly with their new employer. Signatures were once the preferred endorsement, before someone realized a fingerprint was valid even if the owner of said finger was unconscious.

Most of the runners also carry weapons, usually truncheons or collapsible batons. Those who don’t are about to learn that Strive’s CEO has a blacksmithing hobby and an office full of medieval weapons.

The rest of a runner’s arsenal varies with personal preference.

Barry Duboc, like most of his colleagues, goes for the easy money: junior employees who are easily seduced by playground offices and extravagant launch parties, and are easily intimidated into signing anything put in front of them. Clients don’t pay much for cannon fodder like this, but Barry makes up the difference in volume.

Inside a military surplus document holder, its metal edges filed razor sharp, Barry carries photos of his client’s break lounge — stuffed wall-to-wall with vintage arcade games — and a laminated copy of their dense recreational calendar. Before long he’s herded a sizable number of impressionable young programmers away from the safety of their fellows.

A few yards away, a 6’7” runner with tattooed sclera and brass knuckles on both hands sinks his teeth into the earlobe of a production intern.

Seasoned runners like Tom Saunders know where the real money is: senior developers, not so easily swayed by treats, parties, or threats.

Tom never goes on a run without a copy of his client’s benefits package, a breakdown of their flexible working policy, and a stun gun. This time, though, Tom’s got a secret weapon: his client operates out of a refurbished boutique hotel and offers private offices to its senior employees. The promise of working behind a door that can close attracts two senior web developers, one production manager, and an automation engineer.

Shelly Fleming is a virtuoso; she glides through the bedlam of the Pit like a shark through a school of fish. Painstaking research, careful maneuvering, and perfect timing have brought her here, today, for one target alone.

Over the weekend, Strive’s lead software architect posted anonymously online about her struggles at work since transitioning. Unfortunately, the post went viral and a characteristic turn of phrase gave her away. She was summoned to Strive’s HR department ten minutes ago for a lecture on “undermining the company’s public image.”

Shelly bursts into the room with a six-figure contract and her client’s novel-length Diversity & Inclusion policy. If the architect took the time to actually read the policy, she’d quickly realize it was crafted with great care to serve as a flawless legal and political shield while entitling the company’s employees to no actual protection or recourse from discrimination. But time isn’t a luxury she has anymore.

She winds up at the center of a tug of war between Shelly and the HR manager, whose brightly painted nails carve deep lines into the architect’s arm as Shelly drags her from the room.

Of course, Strive has invested in countermeasures. An expensive renovation over the holidays transformed the entire office into a Faraday cage, ensuring no wireless signals can go in or out. The runners’ contracts are all hosted on a remote web service; they must get their prizes out of the building.

Barry ushers his pack of recruits back through reception, but the elevators take precious seconds to arrive and more to depart. Strive’s two security guards beat several of the defecting juniors unconscious before they can escape, and a particularly zealous manager drags another from the elevator as the doors close.

Tom knows better, and heads for the stairs; unfortunately, the route to the stairwell leads past Strive’s executive suite. He loses one of his recruits to a flying tackle from the COO, who adorns his desk with high school football trophies.

Shelly cased the office in advance. She leads the architect to an old fire escape at the far end of the floor, near the server room. The windows are locked, but a quick blow from Shelly’s collapsible baton and they’re both home free, clambering down the side of the building.

As quickly as it started, it’s all over.

Of the dozens of workstations arrayed throughout the Pit, almost half now sit empty. Broken glass and loose papers lie scattered across the floor, alongside a few office chairs knocked over in the chaos. Strive’s remaining workers peer uncertainly from beneath their desks.

A light breeze wafts through the shattered window.

Strive’s CEO storms and rages for an hour, cursing the disloyalty of his former employees. Then, shutting himself in his office, he places a call to his own recruiter.

(my ko-fi)

#original fiction #flash fiction

[starseverance]

You and your F/O(s) may have been looking forward to this trip for a while, or it might be a spur of the moment plan. Regardless, you're sure that you're in for an adventure!

Whether you're travelling by land, air, or sea, being together makes the journey just as enjoyable as the destination. You may be exhausted when you arrive, but there's nothing like having a big meal and settling into bed after a long day of travel.

There's so much to do and see, even if you choose not to do much of anything at all. You and your F/O(s) can enjoy just hanging out with one another in a cool new place; chatting and sightseeing and checking out the local cuisine.

Maybe you're out in the wilderness admiring the beauty of the night sky, or maybe you're seeing it from a hotel balcony. You could be shopping in artisan boutiques, or trying to find junky keychains with your names on them (sometimes easier said than done!) You might be using a map or your phone to guide you, or just seeing where any given path, street, or direction takes you.

And at the end of your adventure, there's the comforts of home, the stories and memories, and the promise that you'll go out and discover more soon!

As requested by @selfshipdorito

#this one was sm fun to write so ty rito! #sev's thoughts #imagines #my imagines #f/o: yn1ipc #f/o imagines #f/o imagine #self ship imagine #selfship imagines #self ship imagines #selfship imagine #proselfship #selfproship #proship selfship

[dyinglikenarcissus]

Valentine’s Day

Steve Rogers x black female reader

Warnings: Mature content! 18+ only! Contains: masturbation, vibrators, vaginal sex, oral sex (on a male), unprotected sex, cream pie, squirting, mirror sex, set in a love hotel, no real kinks in this one. Just general Valentine’s Day fluff and smut. If that’s upsetting for you, feel free to skip this one ☺️

So this was inspired by this post. I thought it was such a freaking adorable concept so I had to write it for my comfort couple. Thanks for the inspo @angelltheninth!

4K words

Master list

You stand looking out over the city after watering your miniature jungle. Steve went a little overboard with this project. You smile to yourself before looking back at the plants in question.

Oh well. It kept him happy.

Then your mind wonders back to the reason he started this whole balcony orchard.

They were supposed to be leaving him alone. He was supposed to be retired. But he can never say no…

You let out a soft sigh lean heavily over the railing. Normally you wouldn’t care. But tomorrow is Valentine’s Day.

And in all of the years you’ve been together, you wouldn’t have cared. You’d never spent a Valentine’s Day together before anyway. He was always out, busy saving the world, protecting your freedom and all that good stuff.

But this year he promised he’d be home. Swore he’d be home. He made you make plans. He wanted to be surprised.

So you made plans and you were going to make the most of it. You decided to be silly and book a night a little boutique love hotel downtown. You preordered flowers and champagne for the room. You booked reservations at the jazz club you spent your first date at. You got waxed. You got plucked. You even got your nails done just to immediately stain them with coffee grounds but it was the thought that counts. It was going to be perfect.

Except you didn’t have a boyfriend to spend the evening with.

He got called away two days ago and he promised to be back in time. You never put too much on those promises. This was earth’s mightiest hero after all.

Didn’t mean you couldn’t still enjoy your plans. So you packed an overnight bag with a variety of vibrators, downloaded your favorite smutty comics and stories and the good tentacle stuff, and picked out a strappy white dress that you were saving for this evening to layer over some brand new lingerie. You were going to make the most of your Valentine’s Day, Steve or no Steve!

You still packed a duffle for him, just in case.

He may come home in time. You hope. You pray. You click your heels together three times before chanting “I want my boyfriend,” over and over until it was time to leave for your dinner reservation.

You let out a soft huff glancing at the clock on the microwave. “Fine! I’m going! I’m going to enjoy my day all by myself!” You grumble to the universe, pulling both duffle bags over your shoulders and stumbling down to your car in your bright red heels.

You make it to the restaurant just in time for your reservation and inform the hostess that it will just be for one. You watch all the couples dancing on the ground floor below, having a wonderful time together. This was a mistake. You could’ve stayed home and made yourself dinner and saved some money. You could be watching a feel good romcom on your couch in one of Steve’s sweaters and your fuzzy socks. Panic starts to rush over you just as the waitress drops off a fruity cocktail. What if he comes home and wonders where you are? These plans were meant to be a surprise! He has no idea what your plans are. He’ll be so worried!

You have to go back home!

Wait. Calm down. He tracks where you are on his phone. He can easily call you if he finds your apartment empty. Besides, he’d call if he was on his way home. He normally calls. You’re allowed to enjoy yourself without him. He’d want you to enjoy yourself.

But you aren’t enjoying yourself.

You ponder just canceling the hotel reservation while you eat your lobster. You’d be charged a late cancelation fee though…

You wouldn’t be able to get your money back for the flowers and champagne. And you still kind of wanted to check this place out! It was so popular and it was hard to get a Valentine’s night reservation. You let out a soft sigh while pushing your broccolini around the plate.

“How is everything?” Your waiter asks stepping up to the table.

“Oh, it delicious!” You force a smile up at him.

He glances at your plate and your vegetables that have been shaped to form a star then back at you. “Are you sure?”

You let out a sigh dropping the false bravado. “It really is amazing. I just have a lot on my mind,” you admit.

“Date cancel on you?” He asks, squatting at the side of the table to be able to hear you better over the music.

“Oh no,” you laugh. “He would never. He got called away for work last minute so I’m trying to make the most of it.”

“That’s good! It’s refreshing to see someone so independent. I hope he’s still paying.” You laugh at his comment and nod. “How are you feeling about dessert? It’s going on your man’s card,” he goads making you smile.

“Sure,” you agree attempting to remember the menu.

“Chef’s special for you. Do you like chocolate?”

“I love chocolate!”

“Alright. Hang tight.” You smile to yourself, feeling a little more confident in your solo night out, and finish your veggies. He returns to take your dinner plate and replaces it with a ball of chocolate covered in gold dust. You quickly snap photos of it before digging in. A chocolate shell with hazelnut ice cream and chocolate torte. You’re dying. You’re physically dead. This waiter earned his tip and then some. You hum happily as you lick the ice cream off of your spoon.

Steve and his sweet tooth are missing this.

Eventually you step into your suite for the night, dropping both duffle bags at your feet before taking a look at the room. It’s super clean. You even swipe a finger over the top of the tv and not a spec of dust. Impressive.

And it’s cute. It’s this American themed room that you thought you were being cheeky and cute by picking out. It’s a little over the top with the white and red striped wall paper and navy blue duvet covered in white stars but it’s super cute.

First step, out of this make up! Then that jacuzzi was calling your name. You take a quick shower to get off the dirt of the day before laying out your own bath mat and filling up the tub with powdered coconut milk and dried flowers. You don’t care how well they clean. You don’t trust it. You slip off your robe, tie up your hair, and grab your favorite vibe and your phone ready to enjoy your night.

You start off with your favorite cg comic about the sentient alien dildo who’s goal was to impregnate a sorority house to warm up. You should know better by now. You don’t need anything but this. You dread the day when you get bored of it. And this vibrator is so perfect. It’s just a simple clit stimulator but it’s so good! Steve got it for you after he caught you getting yourself off while he was out. It’s all you need. Steve can get to that deep spot inside you but he’s the only one you want there. It’s sacred. Stamped with a “SGR”. You explained that to him and he thought it was cute and he ask what he can do to help. The question just made you flustered before he fucked the embarrassment away. A week later, you found this little red rose shaped vibrator on your night stand waiting for you.

It’s been your regular companion ever since.

You let out a soft whine as you get closer to cumming. Your hips rock gently trying to get yourself there. You teeth graze your bottom lips as your insides pulse. The pulses get closer and tighter and higher and you’re so close you can almost taste your release…

Then there’s a knock at the door.

“Whaaa?” You whimper as you completely lose your focus and the knot inside you starts to loosen in an unsatisfying cramp. You eyes close in frustration. Wasn’t the whole point of this hotel privacy?

“Yes?” You call, dropping your phone on the tub’s rim before rubbing your hand over your eyes.

“House keeping,” a deep voice calls into the room.

“House keeping?” You mutter and pull yourself out of the jacuzzi. You wrap a towel around your waist and walk up to the door. You can’t reach the peep hole and you roll your eyes at the ridiculousness of the situation.

So you crack the door open with the chain lock still on and you almost scream.

You slam the door closed to take off the chain before leaping in a set of strong waiting arms

“Stevie!” You cry into his neck. “You made it! You’re here!”

“I told you I wouldn’t miss Valentine’s Day,” he laughs, holding you so tight. So perfect. Your towel fell away from the jump causing Steve to step into the room and lock the door behind him. You squeeze him tighter. He’s here. He’s really here. “Sorry I missed dinner,” he mutters into your neck but you shake your head smiling.

“Are you hungry? They have room service,” you ask pulling away to finally look into soft blue eyes. He looks like he’s been crawling through the mud but he’s here.

“We grabbed something on the way out of Morocco.”

“Morocco?” You ask watching his lips.

“I’ll tell you about it later. Right now, I want to spend time with my princess.” He presses his lips to yours. It’s just a peck. Then another and another and another until you’re making out in his arms. You have to pull away for air first but all you can do is smile breathlessly. “So, you know I hate to eavesdrop,”

“Sure,” you laugh knowing full well he loves overhearing you do things in private.

“I do! Honestly,” he grins. “I heard a bath and some weird vibrating noises,” he trails making you giggle.

“I was just enjoying the jacuzzi,” you smile. “You can, too, but I’m worried you’ll turn the water black.”

“Are you saying I’m dirty?” Steve asks faking a shocked face.

“You’re a very dirty boy,” you insist. “How about a shower first?”

“A shower sounds amazing.”

You slide down his body to the floor to work on his suit. “I brought your clothes and things,” you mutter while pulling his tactical belt open before freeing him from the rest of his clothes.

“Thank you, princess. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He tucks a finger under your chin to direct your face back to his as he leans down for another kiss.

“You’d survive,” you insist as he pulls away.

“Barely.”

You tug him toward the bathroom once he’s naked and aching for you.

The shower springs to life and you start to pull him inside.

“Wait! Baby, your hair,” he laments at your lack of headwear. Your braids were getting old anyway. You weren’t too worried about them.

“It’s fine,” you promise with a laugh. “Come on.”

He’s gorgeous. A work of art. You admire his porcelain skin as you scrub every inch of his body. You watch his muscles start to relax under your touch.

All his muscles but one.

A scrape starts to heal across his pec under your hand while you gaze up at him as he lets out a soft groan, completely oblivious to your admiration. Your fingers walk down his chiseled chest and toned stomach to tangle in the patch of hair there. That’s when his gaze meets yours, eyes dark and full of a familiar lust. You pull at your bottom lip with your teeth before wrapping your hand around his thick length. A soft ‘fuck’ escapes him as you grip him, pumping your hand just how you know he likes it.

“That good, baby?” You ask, pressing kisses to the center of his chest.

He answers in a soft moan making you smile. Your thumb rubs over his tip to feel a bead of precum leak out of him only to be rinsed away by the shower water.

You smile and squat down, reaching eye level with his leaking cock. You don’t let go as you continue to pump him and he braces a strong arm against the wall. Eyes closed and head tossed back against the warm water. Absolutely perfect.

Your plump lips wrap around his tip already filling your mouth with just that. That soft moan turns into groan as his big hand finds the back of your skull. Yeah, he likes this.

Your hands continue to work the rest of his length while your tongue swirls around his tip.

“Fuck, princess,” Steve sighs guiding your head gently. You look up to see the bliss covering his features. You know what he wants. It takes you a moment to build up to it, gathering saliva and relaxing your throat enough that when his tip bumps the back of your mouth it stops bothering you. Your eyes start to water as you take a deep breath though your nose and swallow him. Your nose buries in his pelvis as you take all of him. It’s never easy but you’ll do anything for him. You let him take over as he fucks your face rapidly. His soft moan are enough to have you dripping, clenching around nothing, as he reaches his peek.

You feel him expand slightly around your lips, swelling with his seed, and you prepare to take all of him. He forces your nose deep into his thick curly patch of hair as he cums directly down your throat. You try to swallow, to keep up with his load, but it’s so heavy and he’s so pent up. You press against his thigh and he immediately lets up, letting you pull away to cough as he continues to cum against your chest. You clear your throat and lick at his tip, catching the last spurt of cum on you mouth to properly taste him. That perfect mix of salt and musk that was Steve. You suck his tip clean before dealing with yourself. The water had washed away most of the snot and drool and tears but you still felt it sticking to your face as you wiped the back of your hand over your mouth.

“Eep!” You squeak as Steve lifts you abruptly to his level. His lips cover yours and you practically melt into his kiss. Such pillowy soft kissable lips. Then you let out another squeak of surprise when he doesn’t even put you down to flip you around, pressing you against the shower wall as he spreads your legs wide, tucking your knees over his elbows and entering you in one swift movement. You let out a soft gasp as you attempt to grip the smooth wall. Your cheek and aching tits are smooshed against the tile while he abuses your core. Steve sets a punishing pace but as he quickly finds that spot leaving you crying out for him.

“That good, princess?” He asks. You can hear the smile in his voice but you can’t even bother to respond. All you can produce is soft moans and whimpers.

Such a menace but you love him more than anything.

He rips through one orgasm, ignoring your spasming muscles and leaking core, just to go for a second one. “Please, Steve! Please, please, please!” You cry into the tile as you feel the pressure quickly building again.

“Gonna get you there, princess,” he assures you.

“Uh! Uh! Uh! Uhhuh! Huh! Ha!” You scream as your own cum squirts from you against the shower tile.

“One more?” He asks. You swear you’re still squirting when he asks. You can’t even comprehend one more but he’s already fucking you again at that same punishing pace. Tears stream from your eyes as you feel another knot forming. This one is just as tight as the last. You don’t even try to be cute. You can’t control your voice or your mouth as soft scream and cries escape you.

“Oh, God! Oh, Stevie! Pleash,” you slur, pressing back against the tile, your body can’t help but try to reach that high. His grunts fill your ears, drowning out your own voice as he stabs into that squishy spot inside of you. “Oh, God! Ohhh! Oh! Ahhh!” You cry cumming once more just as hard, feeling something empty from inside you only to feel Steve filling you back up just as quickly with his own release. He lets out a loud growl as he paints that spot, claiming it over and over until he empties himself once more.

The two of you are left gasping for air in the most awkward position while water continues to stream over you. It’s the most comfortable silence but you can feel your hips starting to cramp the longer he holds you open. You break the silence with a soft whine as you attempt to press yourself away from the wall. Steve quickly takes over, dropping one of your legs to support your chest and lower you to the floor. He doesn’t let go though. He keeps you close to his chest, holding you tight, covering you now full belly with both of his hands.

“You okay, princess?” Steve asks as feeling all of your weight against him. You just nod and hum contently. “Am I clean enough for you now?”

“Sparkling,” you mutter, cuddling against his chest.

The two of you don’t even dry before you step into the jacuzzi. You take your spot straddling his lap as he takes his deep inside you once more. This round is slower, calmer, more intimate, as you press kisses to his lips and jaw and nip just behind his ear while his fingers play with your nipples and grip your ass possessively. He definitely owns every part of you and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Once you’re filled once more and he’s satisfied for a moment, he finally hazards a look around the room.

“Is this an American themed room?” You giggle and nod. “Cheeky little thing,” he laughs. You press a kiss to his lips. “I love you.”

“I love you. Happy Valentine's Day.”

“Happy Valentine's Day,” he whispers and presses another kiss to your lips. You pour him a glass of champagne and refill your own glass before he finally opens up about his mission. You massage his shoulders and drink enough to make your head fill fuzzy while he talks, inputting your opinion at times but mostly smiling and nodding and pressing kisses to his skin. He just needs to vent and you’re always there to listen.

“Princess, you drank most of that bottle,” Steve finally notes when you go to refill your glass once more.

“You had a couple of glasses,” you giggle.

He only hums in amusement before pressing his lips to yours. “You ready for bed?” You let out a sigh not ready to leave the bubbly hot water but you know he’s probably exhausted. You stumble to your feet with Steve’s help and let him wrap a towel around you.

You get ready for bed and slip on a lacy night gown and follow Steve to bed. “There’s a mirror on the ceiling?” Steve observes with a smile as you crawl into bed.

“So we can see ourselves fuck,” you explain curling into his chest comfortably, the alcohol loosening you inhibitions.

“Is that right?” Steve yawns. He doesn’t even bother being coy as he runs his hand under your night gown to find your ass. “Why did we even bother getting dressed?” You just giggle as he pulls off the bit of silk and lace and drops it at the end of the bed just to pull you into his lap and grind you against his erection through his sweats. You let out a soft whine as you stimulate your clit against the friction of his pants. “Alright, little miss ‘so we can see ourselves fuck’,” Steve laughs as he pulls off his sweats. “Come ‘ere.” You crawl back over him, accepting soft kisses while you card your fingers through his hair. “Turn over.” You quickly obey, facing away from him on all fours. He slowly pulls you back onto his lap, filling you up once again with him. “There you go. Good girl,” he praises making you clench around him. Both his hands cup your breasts as he pulls you back to lay on top of him. “Shit,” Steve sighs watching you in the mirror above you. You see yourself spread out over his giant body, the contrast of skin tones, and the way he fills you so perfectly. The way you fit each other so perfectly. “I like seeing this angle.” You laugh softly before he tweaks your nipples and runs his hands down to your hips. You pull your damp braids to the side and let him press kisses to your neck and whisper soft nothings into your skin. “All mine, aren’t you? You gonna let me claim you one more time?” You nod, letting out a soft whimper as Steve finds your clit and rubs rough circles into it. “Good girl. So good for me.” His legs keep yours stretched wide as he thrusts up into you.

“Mmmmnngh, Stevie,” you moan as he finds that abused spot in you all over again and you struggle to close your legs but Steve is unrelenting.

“Sensitive?” You nod. “Good. You’ll cum harder.” You just whine at his response and reach up to tangle your fingers behind his head, exposing more of your body as he fucks you into submission. Your first orgasm is quick and hard just like he promised, spilling your cum across the bed for Steve to watch in awe. Then he draws out the second one. Going slow, playing with your breast and clit, whispering you praises and nipping at your ear. You feel so pent up. All of it building into a harsh crescendo. You cry out against the feeling as colors and stars flash against your eye lids while you cum and he fills you for the third time this evening. That super soldier serum never ceases to amaze you. You’re both panting as your highs rush over you, the after glow never having a chance to leave you as you keep basking in it.

“We need to put a mirror over our bed at home,” Steve breathes. You just giggle and turn your head to press a kiss to his lips. He unwillingly pulls out and arranges you comfortably on the bed before cleaning you up.

“I think Valentine's Day is my new favorite holiday,” Steve yawns as he crawls back over you in the bed.

“Is that right?” You mutter into the pillow, sore and exhausted but oh so satisfied.

“Let’s start planning for next year. Maybe we can go back to the cabin. Or to a resort or something?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. No clothes, no pressure, just sex.” You laugh at his explanation of the holiday. “Thank you for planning all of this.”

“My pleasure, handsome.” You press once last kiss to his lips before you’re positive you’ll pass out from any further movement. “I love you.”

“I love you. Happy Valentine's Day.” You just hum already half asleep in the love of your life’s arms, comfortable, full, protected.

The perfect Valentine's Day. 

Moodboard

Dividers

Master List

#steve Rogers x reader #steve rogers x black female reader #steve rogers x black!reader #steve Rogers x black!female!reader #steve Rogers smut #steve Rogers fic

[embroideryobsession]

(via Giambattista Valli - Spring-Summer 2024)

Giambattista Valli Couture Fall 2024

The designer promised you a rose garden, and delivered a dreamy, flower-filled collection.

Giambattista Valli didn’t give away the name of his florist when asked who supplied the impressive arrangement of roses dominating his backstage interview suite, and those attached to the ponytails of models at his ravishing spring haute couture show.

“It’s a Japanese lady who has a boutique next to Place des Vosges and she always has the most amazing flowers,” he enthused, lauding her taste for unusual colors and shapes.

But before you rush out in search of his source material, treat yourself to Valli’s fashion interpretation — a collection rich in color, fantasy, floral embellishment and a host of new volumes, the grandest done in mottled silks this time, instead of his trademark tulle.

He opened his show quietly — ish — with a black velvet bodysuit that represented a Stockman, one of the building blocks of couture. Out of the bustier top bloomed a few dozen fabric rosettes. A corset, a common foundation for flou, came draped with tulle which shot out the back into a grand, jutting bouffant.

Roses were a recurring theme at couture last season, but Valli may never tire of his garden inspirations, noting that “nature is infinite” during a backstage preview. “Spring is always coming and there is always something blooming,” he said.

A black-and-white story — which took its cues from muslin prototypes, or toiles, the raw material for experimentation — was interspersed among the colorful and printed dresses. These were also the beneficiary of Valli’s research into new shapes, including a black velvet bodice with voluminous, inset sleeves that yielded to a simple, flattering drape of white satin.

He called it the “art of giving volumes through the cuts, through the art of draping and really pushing the boundaries in the atelier.”

Occasionally sleeves swelled to the size of cushions in a five-star hotel, and fishtail gowns ended in giant, layered folds of fabric.

Valli holds the torch for grandeur in couture, and his efforts yielded a multitude of new silhouettes, and that dreamy feeling that has been drained from fashion in the wake of the quiet-luxury juggernaut.

“Some shows look a bit like ready-to-wear with embellishment,” he said, without naming names. “I like the idea that haute couture is really haute couture.”

(via wwd.com)

#giambattista valli #fashion week #text #ilovethis #backstage #haute couture

[integra1127grimmreaper]

Sound Of Goodbye

Prev

Ike Evans Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Warning: angst, etc.

Summary: Reflecting back on the day your dreams for the future was destroyed by a random meeting. Inspired by- Crystal Gayle's - The sound of goodbye. 

A/N: Based off; Would you hold it against me universe. Can be read as stand-alone.

You could feel your heart breaking with each heavy step you took behind Ike while making your way back to the hotel room.

He hadn’t even looked at you once when Vera had joined your table; completely enthralled by her as they comically chatted the evening away.

“Gonna take a shower” Ike mutters out, pulling at his tie as he heads toward the bathroom.

“I’ll join” you offer as a sort of peace offering.

“It’s gonna be a quick one” Ike shrugs you off with a head shake.

“You can take one after.”

“Ok” you dishearteningly murmur in response.

Five minutes later, Ike enters the bedroom dressed for bed.

“Shower’s open.”

Silently staring at him for a second, grabbing your night clothes; you head to the bathroom then.

*

We kissed goodnight

And we turn out the lights

We laid side by side in the dark

And we're waiting for sleep or a spark

But the night's on the run

And the spark does not come

And we quietly worry and wonder

And the silence is louder than thunder

And it rings with the sound of goodbye 

Wiping the fog off the mirror, you silently study your reflection.

Was your relationship truly in danger or was it all in your mind?

She was taller than you, far more talented, dare you even say; more beautiful?

She was everything you were not, and the fact that Ike was enthralled with her, hurt you to the core.

“Stop making up crazy assumptions...” you verbally scold yourself.

“You’re the one that has his ring on your finger. You’re the one that’ll officially be Mrs. Evans in two weeks.”

It rings with the sound of goodbye

I can't even tell you just why

It may be the truth or it may be a lie

But it sounds like the sound of goodbye

*

Entering back into the bedroom, you’re surprised to see that Ike’s bedside lamp had been turned off and he seemed to be sleeping already.

Softly sighing in disappointment, you walk to your side of the bed and climbed in.

Quietly listening to his breathing for a few seconds, you realize that he might still be awake.

“Ike...?” you whisper softly but he doesn’t respond.

Tears begin to form in your eyes when realizing he was purposely ignoring you.

“Goodnight... I love you” you murmur out, turning onto your side to face away from him as the silent tears began to run down your cheeks.

We can talk of the weather

We can talk of the news

We can talk of the talk of the town

There's another true love going down

We can talk about promises, talk about lies

But there's no use in pointing our fingers

And the sound of "I love you" still lingers

But it rings with the sound of goodbye

*

Waking up the next morning, you were surprised to find Ike gone from the room already, a note left on the table.

“Had a last-minute meeting.”

You frown at the note for a second.

Strange, he never mentioned anything about another meeting.

It rings with the sound of goodbye

I can't even tell you just why

It may be the truth or it may be a lie

But it sounds like the sound of goodbye

Time is forever

But love is a fire

And one day is one degree colder

*

Deciding to get some enjoyment out of your time in Havana, you went out to go shopping.

It was almost late afternoon when you were browsing around the last boutique on your list. With your back toward the entrance, you were completely thrown off-guard when hearing an intimately familiar chuckle.

It can’t be...

You thought you were mistaken but then he spoke.

Tilting your head in confusion, you were about to turn around but instantly froze when hearing a female voice giggling in response to him.

It couldn’t be her? Could it?

Slowly moving sideways to the opposite direction that they were walking to, you then turned around and there in front of your eyes; was the man that you loved, your fiancé; Ike, with his arm wrapped around the waist of none other than Vera.

You don’t make yourself known by them, don’t confront them either. Instead, you quietly but hastily leave to head back to the hotel. And that was where Ike found you later that evening, silently sitting at the breakfast table as he delivered the hardest blow your heart had ever received.

And the clock's tickin' over your shoulder

And it ticks and it ticks, and it ticks and it ticks

*

“There’s no easy way to say this...” Ike lets out an uncomfortable breath.

As loudly as your heart was screaming in denial, you had the gut-wrenching feeling that you knew exactly what his next words were about to be.

And then to your utmost horror, he says them.

“I’m sorry, but I've fallen out of love with you.”

“You’re in love with someone else, aren’t you...?”

A single tear slowly trickles down your cheek as you stared dazed-like into open space.

Ike sighs softly, dropping his head and nods.

“Yes.”

You shut your eyes as more tears began to flow, biting hard into your lip to stifle any crying sounds that threaten to escape.

“It’s Vera, isn’t it...?”

Ike lets out an even heavier sigh.

“Yes. I’m sorry...”

And it ticks with the sound of goodbye

I can't even tell you just why

It may be the truth or it may be a lie

But it sounds like the sound of goodbye.... 

Nxt

#ike evans #ike x reader #ike x y/n #magic city #jeffrey dean morgan #jdm #isaac evans #ike

[shalini-yadav45]

Exploring the Best Hotels in Venice Beach, California: A Comprehensive Guide

Welcome to our comprehensive guide to the best hotels in Venice Beach, California. Situated along the iconic coastline of Los Angeles, Beaches in Venice is renowned for its vibrant atmosphere, stunning sunsets, and eclectic mix of accommodations. In this guide, we'll take you on a journey through some of the most luxurious and unique hotels that Venice Beach has to offer.

Luxurious Retreats by the Sea The Ritz-Carlton, Marina del Rey Luxury at The Ritz-Carlton, Marina del Rey. This waterfront oasis offers elegant accommodations, world-class amenities, and breathtaking views of the marina.

Shutters on the Beach Nestled along the golden sands of Santa Monica Beach, Shutters on the Beach exudes casual elegance and coastal charm. Each room and suite features custom-designed furnishings, plush bedding, and private balconies with ocean views.

Boutique Hotels with Character Hotel Erwin Perched atop the Venice Beach Boardwalk, Hotel Erwin captures the essence of California cool. With its eclectic décor and laid-back vibe, this boutique hotel offers a unique and memorable stay.

The Kinney Venice Beach Discover a hidden gem at The Kinney Venice Beach, a whimsical boutique hotel with colorful design and retro-inspired furnishings. Guests can enjoy the courtyard pool, rooftop bar, and complimentary bike rentals.

Beachfront Resorts for Family Fun Jamaica Bay Inn Escape to paradise at Jamaica Bay Inn, a waterfront resort in Marina del Rey. With its spacious suites, outdoor pool, and private marina, this resort provides the perfect retreat for families.

Venice Beach Suites & Hotel Located directly on the Venice Beach Boardwalk, Venice Beach Suites & Hotel offers comfortable accommodations and easy access to the beach and local attractions. Guests can enjoy panoramic ocean views and a range of amenities.

Conclusion Whether you're seeking luxury, charm, or family-friendly fun, the best hotels in Venice Beach, California, offer something for every traveler. From luxurious retreats to boutique gems and beachfront resorts, these accommodations promise an unforgettable experience by the sea.

[rahilask]

Best Month To Visit Vanuatu

About Us: Discover the Best Month to Visit Vanuatu

Welcome to our guide on discovering the best month to visit Vanuatu! At [Your Company Name], we're passionate about helping travelers make the most of their adventures to this beautiful Pacific island nation. Whether you're seeking pristine beaches, vibrant culture, or thrilling outdoor activities, Vanuatu has something to offer every traveler. Read on to learn more about the ideal time to experience the magic of Vanuatu.

Why Vanuatu?

Vanuatu is a tropical paradise known for its stunning natural beauty, warm hospitality, and diverse attractions. From lush rainforests and volcanic landscapes to pristine coral reefs and turquoise lagoons, Vanuatu offers a wealth of experiences for travelers seeking adventure, relaxation, and cultural immersion. With its unique blend of Melanesian traditions and modern amenities, Vanuatu promises an unforgettable journey for visitors of all ages.

Choosing the Best Month to Visit

The best time to visit Vanuatu depends on your preferences and interests. However, the months of April to October are generally considered the peak tourist season, with dry weather, cooler temperatures, and lower humidity. During these months, visitors can enjoy outdoor activities such as snorkeling, diving, hiking, and exploring the islands' natural wonders.

Highlights of Each Season

Dry Season (April to October): This period offers ideal weather conditions for outdoor activities, with clear skies, warm temperatures, and low humidity. It's the perfect time to explore Vanuatu's beaches, go snorkeling or diving in crystal-clear waters, and embark on hiking adventures through lush rainforests.

Wet Season (November to March): While the wet season brings occasional rainfall and higher humidity levels, it also offers unique opportunities for cultural experiences and lush landscapes. Visitors can witness traditional ceremonies, festivals, and cultural performances, as well as enjoy discounted rates and fewer crowds at tourist attractions.

Planning Your Visit

When planning your trip to Vanuatu, consider factors such as weather, activities, and budget. Be sure to book accommodations and tours in advance, especially during the peak tourist season, to ensure availability and secure the best deals. Whether you're traveling solo, with family, or as part of a group, Vanuatu offers a range of accommodation options, from luxury resorts and boutique hotels to budget-friendly guesthouses and eco-friendly lodges.

Final Thoughts

No matter when you choose to visit Vanuatu, you're sure to be captivated by its natural beauty, rich culture, and warm hospitality. Whether you're lounging on white-sand beaches, exploring underwater wonders, or immersing yourself in local traditions, Vanuatu offers endless opportunities for adventure and discovery. We hope this guide helps you plan the perfect getaway to this tropical paradise!

Ready to start planning your trip to Vanuatu? Contact us today to learn more about our travel packages, tour options, and insider tips for exploring this enchanting destination.

Conclusion:

Choosing the best time to visit Vanuatu depends on your preferences and interests. Whether you're seeking sunny skies for beach relaxation or cultural experiences during traditional festivals, Vanuatu offers something for every traveler year-round. Plan your trip wisely, and get ready to embark on an unforgettable adventure in this tropical paradise.

#travel

[wise-journey]

Welcome to Turku

Immerse yourself in a city bursting with rich culture, delectable gastronomy, and thrilling adventures. , a city promising an unforgettable experience to every wanderer who graces its cobblestone streets.

When to Embark on Your Turku Adventure

The best time to experience Turku in all its glory is during the pleasant months of summer (June to August). Revel in festivals, outdoor events, and incredibly long daylight hours.

Getting to Turku

Turku is accessible by both air and rail. Turku Airport caters to domestic and international flights, while a picturesque train ride from Helsinki offers beautiful views of the Finnish countryside.

Where To Stay in Turku

From charming boutique hotels to affordable chain accommodations, Turku houses a plethora of options for every traveler's budget and preference. For a more unique experience, consider one of the city's heart-centered guesthouses.

The Cultural Mosaic of Turku

Begin your cultural journey with a visit to Turku Castle, a 13th-century fortress. Participate in guided tours, admire the stunning architecture, and delve into its rich history. Don't miss the Turku Cathedral, an iconic symbol of the city.

Gastronomy in Turku

The city is a culinary haven, boasting restaurants that highlight authentic Finnish flavors and innovative cuisine. Try the local specialty, Turun Sinappi (Turku mustard), for a distinctive kick to your meal.

Activities and Adventure in Turku

Adventure seekers will relish the myriad of activities from kayaking down the Aura River to spending a day at the popular Moomin World theme park. Explore the vibrant archipelago surrounding Turku by hopping on a ferry or joining a guided boat tour.

Nightlife in Turku

As dusk falls, Turku's nightlife scene comes alive with live music performances, cozy pubs, and trendy clubs that cater to various tastes.

Transportation in Turku

With an efficient public transportation system covering buses and trams, exploring the city is a breeze. Or, rent a bicycle to navigate the bike-friendly streets of Turku at your own pace.

Shopping in Turku

From trendy boutiques to traditional markets, shopping in Turku offers a variety of choices. Visit the city center for a larger shopping experience or stroll the charming streets of the Old Town for unique Finnish designs.

Tips and Money in Turku

- Language: Finnish is the official language, but English is widely spoken. - Currency: Credit cards are accepted, but carry some cash for smaller establishments and markets. - Getting Around: Take advantage of free city maps from the tourist information desk.

Conclusion

Whether you're a history aficionado, a food lover, or an adventure seeker, Turku offers an immersive experience that will leave you wanting to return. So, pack your bags and embark on a journey to the hidden gem of Finland, Turku. Read the full article

#culture #Finland #gastronomy #Turku

[agirlgonerogue]

My daddy, your daddy

When we first met, Fred reminded me of the fathers of the girls I grew up with.

He was accomplished, distant, obnoxious. Entitled. He made sure his family was comfortable financially and used that as an excuse for his absence and infidelity. He attended therapy three times a week—individual, family, and couples—but never seemed to learn anything. He had an excuse for everything and regard for nothing. His favorite activities were fucking, eating and drinking. No matter where we ended the night, the bartenders knew his name. He craved attention and delighted in aggression. 

Our relationship was a true affair, complete with heated disagreements and weekend visits to his hometown when his wife went way. On my first visit, Fred gave me a tour of the house. They had an indoor/outdoor pool, a picture window in the kitchen, and a stable of horses out back. There was a shoe rack in the foyer and a stack of rifled-through mail on the dining room table. The mudroom was just shy of chaotic and the back door whined when you opened it. We’d spent thousands of hours in stadium suites, first class seats and luxury hotels, but his kitchen trash smelled just like mine.

The house was big and white, colonial-style with a horseshoe driveway and purple flowers lining the road. It had spaces for sleeping, for entertaining, for living, and for hiding. Each wing gave the family distance from each other, and on that first visit, he held my hand and led me through them all.

His daughter’s wing was decorated in whites and pinks and lace. His son’s had a lock on it. I saw his daughter on campus once. She was blonde, and beautiful, and just as fucked up as I was. Her father paid my rent with the same checkbook he used to pay hers, but only one of us had seen the other’s room. When Fred opened her door and stepped in, I stood at his side and felt nothing. No guilt, no disgust, no thrill.

In the bedroom they shared, Fred’s wife had a closet that was bigger than my living room. There were walls of bags, shoes and shelves. An empty bottle of champagne sat in the far corner. The closet, which more closely resembled a boutique lounge, was filled with stacks of orange and blue boxes. He apologized to us both that way: with surprise visits to high end shops and designer jewelry in metals we didn’t wear. Inclining his head forward, he directed me towards an upholstered stool that sank gracefully when I dropped into it. With her vanity at my front, and her husband at my back, I wondered if his apologies satisfied her. They were enough for me, but I didn’t have to live with him. He couldn’t hurt me like he did her because he’d never been mine. He’d never promised to be, and I’d never wanted him to be.

Fred fulfilled every stereotype of a trick, but he drew the line at fucking his mistress in the house he shared with his wife and children. He invited me over a few times while we were together, but never for more than a day or two. We never had sex in his home, but we made meals together and danced around one another in the kitchen with familiarity. I used to think that he was hung up on the sex, but maybe it was just the only line he hadn’t crossed yet. Maybe it gave him hope that he could still be a good husband, good father, a good man. 

He stroked the back of my arm as our steaks rested on the cutting board and I thought to myself that there are intimacies that run far deeper than orgasming together. His boundary was too little, too late. We were already tangled up in each other.

#personal blog #women writers #marriage #affair #writers on tumblr #creative writing #spoiled girlfriend #tiffany #hermes birkin #luxury #writeblr #queer writers

[almarifatourism]

Experience the Magic of Dubai with Al Marifa Tourism

Introduction

Dubai, a city of opulence, innovation, and boundless possibilities, beckons travelers from around the world to indulge in its grandeur. From breathtaking skyscrapers to pristine beaches, and from ancient traditions to modern marvels, Dubai offers a diverse array of experiences. If you're looking to explore this magnificent city, look no further than Al Marifa Tourism, a trusted name in the world of travel. With their Dubai trip package, you can immerse yourself in the luxury and allure that Dubai has to offer.

Unveiling Al Marifa Tourism

Al Marifa Tourism, a prominent player in the travel industry, has crafted a Dubai trip package that promises an unforgettable experience. Their reputation for delivering high-quality travel services and personalized itineraries makes them the ideal choice for anyone looking to explore Dubai in style.

Why Dubai?

Dubai, often referred to as the "City of Gold," is a city that seamlessly blends the past and the future. Here are some reasons why Dubai should be at the top of your travel bucket list:

Iconic Landmarks: Dubai is home to some of the world's most famous landmarks, including the Burj Khalifa, the world's tallest building, and the Palm Jumeirah, a man-made island that is a marvel of engineering.

Luxury Shopping: Dubai is a shopping paradise with its vast malls, traditional souks, and boutiques featuring international fashion brands.

Cultural Heritage: Despite its modernity, Dubai has preserved its rich cultural heritage. Explore the historic Al Fahidi Neighborhood, visit the Dubai Museum, and take a traditional dhow cruise on the Dubai Creek.

Adventure and Sports: For thrill-seekers, Dubai offers a range of adventures, from dune bashing in the desert to skiing indoors at Ski Dubai.

Culinary Delights: Dubai's dining scene is diverse, offering everything from street food to gourmet cuisine from around the world.

Al Marifa Tourism's Dubai Trip Package

Al Marifa Tourism has designed a comprehensive Dubai trip package that caters to all your needs and desires. Here's what you can expect from their offering:

Customized Itineraries: Every traveler is unique, and Al Marifa Tourism understands that. They work closely with you to create a personalized itinerary that suits your preferences and interests.

Accommodation: Enjoy luxurious stays at some of Dubai's finest hotels, ensuring your comfort and relaxation throughout your trip.

Transportation: From airport transfers to city tours, they provide reliable transportation services that ensure you travel in comfort and style.

Exciting Activities: Whether you want to experience the adrenaline rush of a desert safari, take a helicopter ride over the city, or relax on pristine beaches, Al Marifa Tourism has you covered.

Cultural Experiences: Immerse yourself in Dubai's culture with guided tours of historical sites, visits to traditional markets, and opportunities to witness traditional performances.

Fine Dining: Sample the finest cuisine at Dubai's top restaurants, with recommendations and reservations arranged by Al Marifa Tourism.

Convenience: Al Marifa Tourism takes care of all the logistics, leaving you free to enjoy your trip without any hassles.

Conclusion

Dubai is a city of dreams, and Al Marifa Tourism's Dubai trip package is your ticket to experiencing this dreamland in all its glory. With their expertise, attention to detail, and commitment to customer satisfaction, your journey to Dubai will be nothing short of extraordinary. Don't miss out on the opportunity to explore the marvels of Dubai with Al Marifa Tourism – your gateway to a world of luxury and adventure. Book your Dubai trip package today and get ready for an unforgettable experience.

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