#Hot Wheels Boulevard

[hotwheelings]

[absurdthirst]

Pretty Woman {Max Lord x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 14.6k

Warnings: Prostitution, sex work, mentions of drug use, oral sex (male and female receiving), vaginal sex, protected sex, mentions of classicism and discrimination, anal sex, public sex, domestic violence, assault

Comments: A chance encounter on the boulevard has Max Lord paying to spend a night with you, then the week. Giving you an experience you never imagined.

A/N: Obviously based off Pretty Woman with Julia Roberts, but we did not add any physical descriptions of the reader beyond being able to wear clothing from Rodeo Drive

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Max Lord MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

The boulevard is busy tonight. Cars pass by but no one stops to pick you up. You sigh, reaching up to scratch your scalp under the itchy blonde bob wig you're wearing. Your feet are starting to ache in these ridiculous boots Kit gave you to wear. "We say what. We say who. We say how much." Kit reminds you as you stand on your corner and your head turns when a sports car comes along the street, the gears grinding. "Catch this." Kit says and your eyes widen, "that's a Lotus Esprit." You exclaim, watching the car come to a screeching stop. 

"No. That's rent. You should go for him." Kit says and you huff, "you look hot tonight. Don't take less than one hundred." She finishes, reminding you once again that your rent is due tonight. "Call me when you're through and take care of you." She says and you nod, adjusting your dress after you give her a hug. You take your jacket off, swaying your hips as Kit tells you to work it and you approach the car. 

"You can handle this." Max says to himself as he fiddles with the gearshift. 

"Hey sugar, you looking for a date?" You ask as you lean in the window. 

"No, I wanna find Beverly Hills, can you give me directions?" Max asks, clearly frustrated and you smother your smirk. 

"Sure....for five bucks." You say and Max scoffs, "that's ridiculous." 

You shrug, "price just went up to ten." Max looks at you incredulously, "you can't charge for directions." 

You chuckle, "I can do whatever I want baby, I ain't lost." You shift away from his window and he sighs, "fine. You got change for a twenty?" He asks and you shake your head as you get in the front seat. 

"For that, I can show you personally. This is a hot car. Uh, lights would be good." You tell him as he pulls away from the curb. He comes to a stop at the light and you can tell he's struggling to drive this car. "What's your name?" He asks you after telling you he did not steal the car. 

"What do you want it to be?" You ask and he turns to look at you with those dark eyes that seem to look through you. You sigh and give him your name. He tells you he's staying at the Beverly Wiltshire and you are impressed, giving him directions. "This car is amazing. Four cylinders and it rounds corners like it's on rails." You exclaim and Max looks at you, "you know about cars?" He asks and you shrug, "grew up around it at home. Mustangs...corvettes...they'd fix 'em up and sell 'em." You explain and the gears grind. 

"You ever driven a Lotus?" Max asks and you shake your head. "Well, you're going to now." He says and you're soon behind the drivers wheel. 

"These have pedals that are really close together so it's easier for a woman to drive." You tell him, "good for little feet. Did you know your foot is the length of your wrist to your elbow?" You ask Max who stares at you in amusement. 

"No, I didn't know that." He confesses, "tell me...what kind of money do you girls make nowadays?" Max asks. 

"No less than $100..." You say, "a night?" Max raises his eyebrows and you shake your head, "an hour." 

"An hour?" He asks, "you make $100 an hour and you got a safety pin holding your boot up? You gotta be joking." He snorts and you shrug, "I never joke about money." 

Max chuckles, "neither do I. $100 an hour is pretty stiff." He says and you smirk, sliding your hand into his lap to press your hand into his groin, "well, no, but it's got potential." You tease until you pull your hand back and focus on driving to the Wiltshire.

Max looks out over the city and his stomach twists with nerves and anticipation. He is here to make his mark, to take over a company that had once looked down on him, refused to do business with him. Now he is poised to take over. To dismantle it piece by piece as soon as the deal is done. Despite his thousand dollar suits and suite at the Beverly Wiltshire, he’s not as confident as he pretends to be. “How much for the night.” He asks suddenly, deciding that he will do better if he spends the night with a beautiful woman and you are that.

You smirk, looking over at him. "Honey, you couldn't afford me." He snorts, "try me." You squeeze the steering wheel, "three hundred." You tell him, knowing you need to pay your rent. 

Max mulls it over for a second before he nods, "done." 

You internally squeal, knowing Kit is gonna be so proud of you. You pull up outside of the hotel and he is greeted by the doorman. "Welcome, Mr. Lord." You are impressed and he glances at your dress, shrugging off his Burberry trench coat. 

"Put this on." He says and you frown, following his order. 

"Great. Now I look like a hooker in a trench coat." You joke and his eyes meet yours for a second before he's heading into the hotel. "Holy shit." You hiss in shock at the expensive decor. He checks in and orders champagne and strawberries for the room. "Ooo fancy." You coo, caressing his back and trying to ignore the stares of everyone in the lobby of the hotel. He is soon escorting you to the escalator and you notice the woman looking at you with disdain so you lift your leg up onto the silver trash can by the escalator. "Oh no, honey. I've torn my pantyhose." You huff and caress your thigh. "Oh wait...I'm not wearing them." You giggle, winking at the woman's husband before you lower your leg. The escalator doors open and you rush in, excited to see this hotel room.

Max tuts, smirking slightly at your moxie as he follows you inside. He’s decided that he likes you. You aren’t stiff and boring, just like his ex-wife accused him of being. Pressing the button for the penthouse, he watches your eyes widen dramatically. He doesn’t expect that your clients often take you to the penthouse. He watches you fidget, wondering what you will do with the three hundred dollars he is paying you. Hopefully it’s not for drugs.

When the elevator arrives, the bellboy watches you as you walk down the hall to the double doors and Max turns to look at him, eyebrows raised, until the young man's face falls and he straightens up. Max unlocks the door and you walk in, mouth open as you take in the lavish suite. "Impressed?" He asks and you shrug, "you kidding me? I come here all the time. As a matter of fact, they do rent this room by the hour." You tease him, walking out onto the balcony. "I bet you could see all the way to ocean from here." You exclaim and Max sits down at the desk, "come inside." He tells you, "I don't go out there." 

You frown as you walk in, setting your purse down on the sofa. "Why not?" You ask and he sighs, "I'm afraid of heights." You snort, "then why'd you get the penthouse?" 

Max straightens up a little, "it's the best." He declares and you nod, confused by his desire to have 'the best of everything' and yet he hired you for the night. 

"Now that I'm here...what do you want to do?" You ask, biting your lip and he sighs, "I - I don't really know." You are surprised by this. Most men would've already been having a smoke after getting their orgasm over with. You sit down on the sofa, "well...one way to break the ice is to pay me." You tell him and he nods, reaching into his jacket for his pocket book and he pulls out three one hundred dollar notes. You move to sit down on the edge of his desk and take the cash, shoving it in your boot. 

"You're on my fax." Max tells you and you chuckle tilting to the side so he can pull the paper out from under your ass, "well that's one I haven't been on before." You unzip your boot, pulling out the condoms you keep there. "Right. Pick one. I got red, I got blue. I'm out of purple. I have one gold coin left. The condom of champions. Nothing getting through this sucker." You flick it and lean closer to him. 

He stands up and you reach for his jacket. "Right, let's get one of these on you?" You suggest and he shakes his head, "why don't we just talk for a bit?" You click your tongue, "talk. Yeah, uh, okay. Max...are you in town for business or pleasure?" You ask, watching him sit down on the sofa and you move to straddle him but he moves so you sit down on the ottoman. "I think you're a lawyer." You guess, crossing your arms and leaning forward to let him see your cleavage.

His eyes flicker down to your chest and he can’t help the way his cock twitches in his suit trousers. “Business.” He answers. “Not a lawyer, lawyers are bloodsucking bastards.” He huffs, rolling his eyes at how much his team of lawyers costs him per hour.

You giggle, reaching out to caress his thighs as he reclines against the sofa. “Ain’t that the truth.” You say just as the doorbell rings. “I’ll get it. Make myself useful.” You stand up and walk over to the door. The hotel worker is surprised when his eyes trail down your dress and he asks where you want the champagne. “Where do we want it?” You ask Max. 

“On the bar.” He says and the man carries it over. He stands there after he sets it down and stares at you expectedly. 

“What you looking at?” You ask and Max sighs, standing up and pulling a note out of his pocket. “Here.” Max says and the man nods, “thank you sir.” He exits the door and Max comes over to pop the champagne.

“Oh.” It’s cute, the way you deflate slightly when you realize you had been a little overzealous in your attitude towards the bellboy. “Here.” He pours a flute of champagne and hold it out to you. “Have it with a strawberry.”

You frown, “why?” You take a large gulp of the champagne before you bite on the strawberry. 

“Just relax. I got some work to do.” He says and walks over to the desk. You frown at his retreating form and you sit down and grab the tv remote. You turn it on to an old episode of “I love Lucy” and you lay down on your stomach with the strawberries and champagne.

Max looks up from the report and smiles as he watches you. You’re kicking your feet and laughing like a little kid. It’s sweet and you don’t seem like a woman of the night, even with your provocative dress on. It’s honestly a joy to watch you and he has to tear himself away to look back down at the report.

You giggle at the show until Max tells you he’s done with his work. “So…you wanna keep talking?” You ask Max after you sit down on the sofa beside him. He stares at you for a second, his dark eyes burning into you in a way you’ve never felt before, and he slowly shakes his head. He leans in towards you but you pull back, “I have one rule. I don’t kiss.” You tell him and he nods. “Tell me what you like.” You demand softly, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair.

“I don’t really know.” Max admits softly. He knows you are more experienced, you have sex for a living. “What do you like? For yourself?” He knows that he will cum no matter what, but he would like to learn something that maybe he doesn’t know. Which wouldn’t be hard to do.

You’re surprised. No one ever asks you that. You never ever expect to cum or receive pleasure. You’re here to do a job. To make him feel good. “I, uh, I like to ride. I like to feel a little in control.” You confess, knowing that most men want to fuck you from behind to make them feel powerful.

“Okay.” He nods seriously, thinking about how he feels about that. “Then ride me.” He decides. “You choose the condom you’re comfortable with, and you can decide how fast you go.”

You nod, taking the gold condom from your boot before you pull them to the side, taking off your socks as well. He watches you, making no moves, and you decide to make this good for him. You set your boots aside and place the condom on the coffee table, grabbing a cushion from the sofa, you kneel between his legs and rub the bulge in his expensive slacks. “I want to suck your cock first.”

He’s surprised that you want to do that, his cock twitching in interest. “You don’t have to.” He promises. “I’m not- it’s not- you want to?” He is a little breathless at the prospect.

You nod, reaching for his Gucci belt buckle to undo it and you unbutton his pants. “Wanna make you feel good.” You murmur as you reach in to pull his hard cock out of his pants. He’s thick and your mouth waters as you lean in to lick a stripe along the underside.

“Oh fuck.” Max chokes out, his head dropping back against the sofa cushions and his eyes close. Your tongue is hot and wet against his cock and makes his stomach twist in pleasure. “Do you- do you like doing this?” He pants out quietly, a little more of his accent slipping out involuntarily.

You pull back, wrapping your fingers around him. “I don’t do this.” You confess, “I- I wanted to do this for you.” It’s true. You never allow oral but you want to do this for him after he’s shown you such a good time already. “I love doing this baby.” You coo, taking his head into your mouth and keeping your eyes on his.

Max groans, twitching in your mouth and biting his lip so he doesn’t grab your head. You are the one setting the pace and he finds it intoxicating. You are so pretty looking up at him with his cock in your mouth. “So pretty.” He praises. “It’s so good, baby, you’re so good to me.”

His slight accent has you getting wet and you moan around him, loving the way he groans and praises you. Your hands caress his thighs, still clad in a designer suit, but you take his cock a little deeper. Your spit combined with his pre-cum dribbling into the material. You moan around him, closing your eyes as you widen your jaw and breathe through your nose.

“It’s been so- so fucking long since I’ve had this.” Max moans out the confession, sure that it’s the best fucking blow job he’s ever had. “You gotta- gotta stop.” He pants out. “Gonna cum if you don’t.” His cock throbs and he wants nothing more than to spill down your throat but he wants you to ride him. He wants to feel your cunt around his cock.

You pull off of him, letting him decide what his body needs, and you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand before you stand up. Your eyes meeting his as you slowly begin to remove your clothes, wanting to give him a show when he’s paying a lot of money for you. You tease, turning around and bending over as you remove your panties, his dark eyes fixed on your body as his chest heaves. When you turn around, you move to straddle his lap and lean in to run your nose along his jaw.

Max hums, still nearly completely dressed with just his slacks opened and his cock pulled out. It’s slightly sexier this way, with you naked on top of him. His hands are hovering over your hips for a few moments before he touches you. Groaning out loud when he grips your flesh and realizes this is actually going to happen.

You reach out to grab the condom, opening the foil packet and you pinch the tip before you work it down his cock. “Shit. You’re so thick.” You murmur, admiring him for a second before you move closer, lifting up to notch him at your entrance. You slowly sink down onto him, your eyes on his face as you take him inside of you for the first time.

“Shiiiiiiiit” Max hisses, loving how tight you are as you slide down his cock. Taking him deep until your ass is against his thighs. He twitches deep inside your hot walls and he grits his teeth to keep from moving. “Holy shit, baby. You’re so tight. So hot.”

You watch him struggle with the need to take over. You can tell he’s used to being in control. You love the strain in his jaw as you start to slowly lift off of him. The slight whine that escapes his clenched teeth as you lift up until only the tip remains inside of you, then you slowly sink back down. “You can touch me, baby.” You remind him, his fists clenched at his sides.

“Fuuuuuuuck.” He slides his hands over your hips and up to cup your tits. “You are so- so tight.” He groans. “Are you going to ride me or tease me?” He demands with a pout, groaning again when you clench down around him. He’s so close to cumming already and you’ve barely started riding him.

You tut, reaching up to grab his cheeks, “I’m in control of pace, remember?” You remind him, clenching around him again and he almost whimpers. Fuck, it’s intoxicating to have a man like him, powerful and rich, whimper for you. You take pity after a second, shifting to grab his shoulders for leverage as you start to move on top of him.

Max nearly whimpers again when you slowly roll your hips, your cunt locking down around him like a vice. You’re gorgeous and your mouth watering tits are in his face. “Can I suck on them?” He asks you desperately, wanting to touch you and make you feel as good as he does.

You nod, reaching out to run your fingers through his hair, dragging his face to your chest. You moan when he wraps his lips around your nipple, biting down softly and you move your hips a little faster, loving the way he stretches him out.

It’s been a long fucking time since he’s fucked anyone and even longer than that since someone ridden him. He loves it though. For a moment, he pretends that you aren’t being paid and you want him. His cock twitches every time he sucks on your tit and it’s only when it’s hard and puffy does he switch over to the other.

Usually, you barely react to sex. It’s a job. Something to pay your rent and you’ve perfected the art of moans and whimpers to make the man paying you cum quicker. Tonight though, you’re in no rush. Max’s hands caress your back and his lips suck on your nipple, making you whimper and throw your head back. It’s the best you’ve felt having sex in so long. He’s thick and you feel him in places that seemed forgotten with your other clients. The control you have is intoxicating and you rock your hips a little faster, trying to find that spot that makes you cum.

Max groans into your flesh, his hands sliding down to your ass and squeezing. He doesn’t try to guide you, just rolls with your movement as he lavishes attention on your breasts. Enjoying it so much more that he had before because of the moans you give him. You’re incredible and you don’t make him feel inadequate.

“Fuck.” You hiss and grind forward, adjusting the angle and you moan at the way his cock hits just right inside of you. You bounce a little faster, “oh God. I- I’m gonna cum.” You confess breathlessly. You never orgasm with a customer. Most just rut into you until they cum a minute later but Max has you shaking above him.

“Don’t fake.” He begs, not wanting you to pretend like his ex wife claimed she did all throughout their marriage. “Want you to really cum for me.”

“Not- not faking.” You promise and reach for his hand, bringing it to your clit. “Rub.” You demand breathlessly and he wastes no time rubbing your clit. It’s perfect. The angle and his touch. You rock a half dozen more times until you cry out, clamping down on his cock and you moan his name.

Max chokes out a moan, Finding you completely gorgeous as you shake apart for him. Your cunt is like a vice around him and he’s not going to be able to hold out. “Fuck, baby.” He hisses, leaning forward and burying his mouth against your pulse to keep from kissing you as he starts to fill the condom.

You moan as he cums, caressing his shoulders and back, and you rock him through it. “So good, baby. So good.” You murmur as he groans into your skin.

You weren’t faking, you couldn’t have faked that. Max moans into your skin, sighing softly when he relaxes. “Fuck.” He pants, still breathing you in. Your perfume is surprisingly bright and clean and he enjoys it. “That was amazing.”

You are pleased he’s happy. Reaching down to grip the base of his cock before you lift off of him, slumping down on the sofa as you try to catch your breath. You haven’t had an orgasm in so long and you turn to look at Max. “Satisfied, Mr. Lord?” You ask teasingly.

Max hums, still blissful from his orgasm. “Call me Max.” He murmurs. “I think that I might actually sleep tonight.” His hand slides over to stroke your thigh. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

You nod, “I did. It’s rare that I do but there’s something about you.” You admit, placing your hand on his. “Well, I’ll get my clothes.” You say but his grip on your thigh tightens. 

“Don’t go yet. I paid for the night. Stay. Have a shower.” He offers and you nod, knowing it will be hard to get home this late.

Max tucks himself away and settles back down with another report while you go into the bathroom. After a few minutes he hears the water start and then some singing. Making him pause and listen for a minute before he starts to grin. It’s off key and pitch, but enthusiastic. Making him shake his head as he looks back down.

You sing in the shower, cleaning off until you come out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel. “I, uh, I don’t really have anything to wear.” You tell him as you glance at your tiny dress and he nods, standing up and making his way over to his closet to open it and take a white shirt out. “Here you go.” He says and you drop the towel, shrugging on his shirt and buttoning it up. “Thank you.” You wink at him and make your way over to the champagne bucket to pour another glass for each of you.

There something about having you here. Just your presence is nice, different from the austere penthouse. He’s not lonely. You turn the tv back to another older show and bring both of the glasses over to where he is sitting and plop down beside him.

You giggle as you watch the show while he looks over his reports again until you are closing your eyes in exhaustion. "Sleep." Max orders, jerking his chin towards the bedroom. You nod, stumbling into the bedroom and Max pulls the covers over you as you settle into the ridiculously soft bed. Max doesn't get in beside you, he closes the door and gets back to his reports, deciding to shower after you're asleep. You huff as the wig you've been wearing all night - even in the shower- digs into you so you grab it from your head and toss it on the chair, pulling off the hair net to let your hair free. You sigh as you settle back in and are soon passed out in a place you never expected to sleep.

It’s after two in the morning when Max decides to go to bed. Showering and then changing into fresh boxers, he stops when he sees you laying in the bed. The short blonde wig was obvious just that, but your natural hair is beautiful. You look so serene, sleeping on your stomach facing the empty side of the bed. As if you are waiting on him. He smiles softly as he climbs in beside you and turns to watch you sleep until his own eyes close.

When you wake up, the sunlight is shining through the curtains and you get up to pee and use some of his toothpaste to freshen your breath. Your hair is a mess but you try to fix it as you walk out into the living area in his shirt. "Hi." You say to Max as he is sitting at the table with his back to you. 

He turns to look at you and nods, "good morning." You run your hands along your sides and bite your lip, "I, uh, wig." You point at your hair and Max smiles softly, "I like it." Your heart thumps at that but you push it aside, "I can get my clothes and go." You say but Max shakes his head, "come sit down. Have some breakfast. I, uh, I didn't know what you like so I got one of everything." He lifts the silver lids up and your eyes widen. "Wow. Thanks." You reach out to pick up a croissant and he picks up his reports. "So Max. You aren't a lawyer...what exactly is it you do?"

“Merger and acquisitions.” Max tells you, folding his newspaper over and smirking at you. “I make money.”

“Right. That explains everything.” You snort sarcastically. “So you’re smart, huh?” You ask and he looks at you. “I didn’t finish eleventh grade.” You confess, “how much school did you do?” You ask him and he tilts his head, “I went all the way.” Your eyebrows raise but you’re not really shocked. He seems smart. “Wow. Good for you. So what are you in town working on now?” You ask and he sighs, “I’m working on acquiring a company for a billion dollars and -” 

You choke at hearing the figure. “One - one billion?” You ask and he nods. “Oh God. That’s - you really are smart. So you get the company and then what?” You ask, ever curious. 

“I buy it and then break it apart. Sell off the assets for more money than I bought the company for.” He explains, “I wasn’t this successful when I got started. Had a lot of fuck ups but I have learned along the way.” 

You gesture to the suite, “clearly.” He stands up, “I’m going to get ready.” He says and you watch him go and change into his suit. He comes out ten minutes later in a bespoke suit but he’s struggling with his tie. You walk over to him to help and soon perfect a Windsor knot. “How do you know how to do this?” He inquires, his dark eyes on yours. 

You smirk, “I screwed the whole debate team.” He chuckles and you wink at him. “My grandpa was a sweet man and he’d go to church so I’d help him with his tie.” You tell him the truth and he nods, reaching behind you to grab his briefcase. “Can I have a bath before I leave?” Max nods and you smile, kissing his cheek before you disappear into the bathroom and the phone rings.

It’s Max’s assistant, informing him that the owners of the company have invited him to some functions while he is in town. Frowning, he remembers that he cannot show up to these functions without a date, he had told James Morse that he had been in a relationship and Jessica had broken up with him because he was always working. To be fair, he had just spent a month away dismantling another company and hadn’t seen her in nearly forty-five days. The singing in the bathroom had started up again, this time it sounds like you are skinning a cat and he grins, telling his secretary to accept the invitations on his behalf and a date. Hanging up, he walks into the bathroom to find you have drawn a bubble bath and have headphones on as you screech along. Chuckling, he stands next to the tub and waits for you to notice him.

You continue singing until you open one eye and see Max perched on the edge of the tub. You throw the headphones for the walkman on the side and internally groan in embarrassment. "Mr. Lord." You greet him, trying to act cool, "Don't you just love Prince?" You grin and he shakes his head. 

"More than life itself." You shake your head, "don't you knock?" 

Max sighs and says your name, "I have a business proposition for you." You ask him what he wants. "I am going to be in town until Sunday and I'd like you to spend the week with me." 

You grin, unable to believe your luck. "Why? You're a rich man. Handsome. You could have anyone... for free." You add and he shakes his head, "I want a professional. I don't want romantic entanglements." You chew the inside of your cheek for a second, "as much as I'd love to be your beck and call girl, it's gonna cost you." You hum and he leans closer, "How much?" 

You tap your chin, "six-night, the days too...$4000." 

His eyebrows raise, "at $300 a night, it's $1800." He tells you and you shrug, "days too." He sighs, "$2000." 

You shake your head, "$3000." Max nods, "deal." Your eyes widen and you can't help but sink under the bubbles, unable to believe your luck.

Max smirks as he watches you do a little dance under the water and then immediately come back up. “Yes! Yes.” You gasp out, wiping the soapy bubbles from your face. “I’m your girl.” 

He chuckles. “Good, now, I’m going to need you to go get a cocktail dress. Something nice. These are important people and I want you to look the part.” He reaches into his pants pocket and pulls out a money clip, peeling crisp hundred dollar bills off until he feels like you have enough, about $1200 dollars and holds it out to you.

Your eyes widen as you stare in shock at the money in your hands. "What do you want me to get?" You ask, climbing out of the bath and following him as he rushes through the penthouse, getting his jacket and briefcase. 

"Classy. Not too sexy. Elegant." He says and you roll your eyes, "boring then." He nods, walking over to the door, "go shopping. Have fun." You nod and watch him go, the door shutting behind him and you rush into the bedroom, squealing in delight at your luck. 

Eventually you calm down and call Kit, giving her the good news. You ask her where to go shopping and she says, "one place in Beverly Hills...Rodeo Drive." You tell her you're leaving the rent money at the desk and you get ready, making your way downstairs to leave the money and you head over to Rodeo Drive.

The boutique that you walk into is obviously expensive and the workers there are immediately suspicious of you. “Oh my god.” Cordelia whispers to her co-worker. “A prostitute just walked into our store, can you believe it?” She purses her lips and continues to go through the clothes on the rack even though you are asking for help.

You ask her about the clothes on the mannequin, at a complete loss of what to do in a store like this. “How much is this?” You ask and she lightly scoffs under her breath. 

“It’s very expensive.” She says, “I don’t think it would fit.” 

You huff, “I didn’t ask if it would fit, I asked how much.” 

She sighs, looking at her colleague, “I don’t think we have anything in here that would work for you.” She says and your stomach drops. You feel sick. You swallow back the tears and rush out of the store. Making your way back into the hotel, you get accosted by the manager, asking you who you’re here to see. “Maxwell Lord.” You tell him and his eyes widen, looking at the bellboy who confirms you are staying in the penthouse. 

“Come this way.” He says, escorting you to his office. “This isn’t your usual hotel, Miss. This is the Beverly Wiltshire. This is a fine establishment and we don’t have women like you staying here.” You nod, feeling reprimanded but you won’t be defeated, not with $3000 on the line. “Mr. Lord, however, is a valued customer and he spends a lot of money here. We can overlook your…occupation for his sake. If anyone asks, you’re his niece. Understood?” He says, eyes burning into you and you nod. 

“Yes sir.” The manager nods, “now, Mr. Lord has a reservation at our restaurant tonight and I’d assume you’re attending with him. Do you have anything else to wear?” He asks and you shake your head. 

“I went to Rodeo and they were so rude. They treated me like trash. I- I don’t have anything else.” You pull out the money Max had given you. “I have all this money and no dress.” 

The manager nods, picking up his phone. “Women’s department, Bridget please.” He asks and waits for a brief moment. “Ah yes, Marie. I have a situation that would benefit from your expertise. I need someone to bring over a black cocktail dress for one of our guests for dinner with her uncle. Yes, black heels. A clutch. Also, send one of your girls for hair and makeup.” He says before he puts down the phone. You’re astonished and he claps his hands. “Now, let’s get you to the room and they will be here soon for you to get ready for dinner.” You nod, letting him escort you through the hotel and back to your room.

A knock on the door comes soon enough and a primly dress woman in a pencil skirt and a silk white blouse is at the door. “Hello!” She smiles brightly at you, her expression never changing when she sees your provocative dress. “My name’s Bridget.” She holds out her hand and you shake it. 

“Yeah, hi. Barney said you’d be nice to me.” 

Bridget blushes slightly at the mention of the hotel manager. “He’s very sweet.” You hum and she moves on. “What are your plans while you are in town?” You cross your arms over your chest nervously. “I’m gonna have dinner.” 

She nods. “Then you need a cocktail dress. I’ve pulled a section of dresses that will be perfect. I’m sure that you’ll find something that your uncle will love.” There is a rack in the hall that is loaded down with dresses and she moves to bring it inside. Correctly guessing your size, she asks you to confirm it. Your eyes widen in amazement. “Yeah. How did you know that?” 

Bridget smiles. “Well, that’s my job.” She replies easily, having to accurately guess women’s sizes all day long. 

“Bridge?” You bite your lip. “He’s not really my uncle.” You confess. 

“They never are, dear.” She assures you.

****

You tap your fingers on the bar in the lounge as you wait for Max, he’s late. You would order a drink but you’re terrified to do something wrong at dinner. To mess up the cutlery order that Mr. Thompson had so willingly taught you. You don’t notice Max enter the lounge until he’s nearly leaving again. You turn your head to look at him just as he meets your eyes and you smile, hoping he likes your new outfit.

Max is astonished. The transformation is nearly unbelievable. You look every inch the sophisticated woman with your cocktail dress, your hair and makeup styled elegantly. He smiles slightly, unable to believe that he gets to escort such a beautiful woman to dinner, despite it being a business transaction. Watching as you gather your clutch and walk over to meet him. “You’re late.” You tease and he is quick to reply. 

“You’re stunning.” He means it, but you giggle slightly. 

“You’re forgiven. 

Max hums and turns to offer his arm like a gentleman. “Shall we go to dinner?”

**** 

“Mr. Morse. It’s great to meet you.” Max greets the older man, “great to meet you. This is my grandson. He’s a fireball. David.” He gestures to the younger man who seems embarrassed by his grandfather. Max introduces you as his friend and you shake both men’s hands. The chair is pulled out for you and you move to sit down until you decide to stand again. All three men stand and Max asks where you’re going. 

“I’m going to the ladies room.” You tell him and he tells you where to go. 

“Shall I order for you?” He asks and you immediately respond, “yeah” until you remember yourself. “Yes. Please do so.” You correct yourself and walk off to the bathroom.

Max can see every man’s eyes at the table on you. Proud of the choice he had made in bringing you here. “She’s charming, isn’t she?” He asks before the three of them order. When you come back, the first course is being served and David is talking to Max. “Mr. Lord, my grandfather believes the men who create a company should control its destiny.” You look down at the plate and then lean over towards Max. 

“Where’s the salad?” You ask quietly. 

Max turns his attention to you. “The salad comes at the end of the meal.”

You stare at the forks, trying to count the tines and the elder Morse leans in, “I never know which one to use.” He chuckles and you follow his lead when he picks up the toast with pâté. The next course is snails. “Escargot.” Max explains, “they’re a delicacy. Try them.” 

You look at the tongs and frown, trying to figure it out until one flings across the room and the waiter catches it. “Slippery little suckers.” You joke “Happens all the time.” He tells you and you fluster. 

The sorbet is next and the conversation heats up between the men. Max reveals that his father died recently and you bite your lip. You watch Max as he clenches his jaw, clearly used to getting what he wants but so is the younger Morse who stands up and leaves, followed by his grandfather. You look at Max who huffs, deciding to pour another glass of wine. Back in the hotel, you decide to admire the view and sit on the balcony. Max joins you a few moments later, rid of his jacket and tie. “I’m sorry about your dad.” You murmur and he sighs, rubbing his jaw. 

“He died last month.” He tells you and you want to comfort him, to make him feel better. Something you haven’t felt in so long. “Haven’t talked to him in fourteen years.” He reveals, staring down at the whiskey in his hand. He hadn’t even attended the funeral, never wished to. He had meant what he said when he said that he never wanted to see the old bastard again. 

You give him a small ‘oh’ and are silent for a minute. “We could just veg out.” You suggest and Max frowns as he looks up at you in confusion. “Sit around and watch tv.” You explain with a grin. “Lay like broccoli.” He snorts and shakes his head before drowning the rest of his drink. “I’ll be back.” He tells you, setting the glass down and walking to the penthouse door quietly.

You huff as he leaves and decide to veg out by yourself. You rub your eyes as the movie ends, Audrey Hepburn and Cary Grant kissing and you glance over at the clock. It’s three in the morning. “Where the hell is he?” You mumble, standing up and wrapping the robe around yourself. You ask the bellboy where Max is and he escorts you through the lobby to the event room. The sounds of the piano echo through the room and a few men are listening him. You’re in awe. You walk over to him when he finishes, clapping softly. “I didn’t know you could play.” You say like you haven’t only known him for two days. “I don’t play in front of people I know.” He explains and you rub his shoulders. 

“You should.” You murmur, leaning down to kiss his neck. His hand finds yours on his shoulder and he guides you around so you’re between his legs. 

“Can you give us the room, fellas?” He asks and the men soon vacate the room. Your eyes meet his as his hands grab your waist, caressing it and your breath hitches at the way he looks at you.

There’s something about you. It’s thrilling and comforting all at the same time. He pushes you up, your ass hitting the keys and he doesn’t smirk like he normally would. Fingers reaching for your robe, and he slowly unties it to pull past and see what you are wearing under it. “Eyes on me.”

You fix your eyes on him, unable to disobey, and he runs his hands up your body, admiring the black silk you're wearing. He grabs your ass and lifts you up onto the top of the piano, your feet hitting the keys as he stands to settle between your legs. His lips seem to gravitate towards yours and you turn your head at the last second, knowing it's not a good idea to kiss him. You're already too involved. His lips find your neck and you whimper when he pushes the nightie up your body, exposing your panties. His nose runs along your stomach, pressing kisses on the skin, teasing you. "Max." You plead softly, needing to feel more.

“I’m going to eat you out.” He decides. “Right here in the lounge of the hotel.” He’s hard and throbbing, but right now, he wants to take you apart. Leaning down even more, his nose presses to your panties and he inhales your intoxicating scent. “When was the last time a man feasted on your cunt?”

You gasp at the way he presses his nose just against your clit. “A long time ago. Clients - they don’t - they don’t do that.” You admit, most just want to get straight to fucking you. It’s not romantic or drawn out. Usually they cum in less than a dozen thrusts and you take your money and go. He hooks his fingers in your panties, “I want to taste you.” He says and you whimper when he drags your underwear down and your ass hits the lacquer of the piano.

His ex-wife had bemoaned his oral skills, claiming that all the talent in his tongue was left in the board room. Not matter how many hours he had spent between her thighs, it was never right and he had eventually given up. However, he wants to see what you think of him. More than that, he just wants to give. Give you things that you haven’t had lately. Forget everything but the way you taste and sound. His fingers pull apart your lips and he groans at the sight of your clit before he leans forward and laps at it with his tongue.

God his tongue feels so good. You moan when he flicks your clit and his mouth covers you. His tongue sliding down to push inside of you and you pant, “Max.” You reach down to tangle your fingers in his air, intoxicated by him already.

He doesn’t think about what he is doing, just focusing on the way that you sound. Groaning into your flesh and squeezing your hips as he drags you closer to taste you more deeply.

It’s scandalous. Him eating you out on a piano in the middle of a hotel lounge and you moan as he takes his time. Most of the time, men only do this to make sure you’re wet enough but Max seems so eager to make you cum. You moan his name as he laps at you and you don’t know how he’s so good at this and unable to get a girlfriend. You moan again, lifting your leg onto his calf as he sucks on your clit. “Oh fuck.” You cry, getting so close already.

Your skin is so soft, fingers digging into the supple areas that he can grab. Dark eyes on your blissed out face as he drags you closer to the edge. Pulling away from your clit to run a figure eight around it with his tongue, he rasps out “cum” before he sucks it back into his mouth to pull on harshly.

You can’t deny him. Fuck, you can’t deny him anything. You moan his name as you rock your hips up towards his mouth and you fall apart on his tongue. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” You cry out as you cum on his face.

It’s the best dessert that he’s ever had, tangy and thick when he moves his tongue down to lap up the fruits of his labor while you shake apart for him.

You pant as you look up at the ornate ceiling of the hotel. The intricate decor almost blurs as you stare at it and you run through fingers through his hair until you’re pushing him away when it becomes too much. “Fuck baby. So good.” You murmur, “there’s a condom in my robe if you want to.” You say, unsure if he wants to fuck you here or go upstairs.

He too worked up to take you upstairs. Digging into your robe to grab the condom, he surges to his feet and fumbles with his belt as he rushes to sink into you.

You sit up on your elbows as he rolls the condom down his length and you moan when he notches himself at your entrance and slowly pushes into you. “Fuck Max.” You moan, reaching for his hand when he pushes deep inside of you.

He moans your name quietly, his thighs bumping the keeps as he tries to get as deep as he possibly can. “Warp your legs around me,” he begs quietly. “Hold onto me.”

You nod, wrapping your legs around him and you shift to sit up, gripping his shoulders the new angle makes you gasp as he starts to move inside of you. “Oh God.” You pant as he curves just right inside of you like this. “Fuck me.” You demand, leaning down to kiss along his neck. Biting down on his ear lobe, “feel so big inside of me.” You murmur, meaning every word.

Max groans, aware that you probably tell every guy you’re with that, but he pretends you mean it. You’re kissing along his next and squeezing his cock with your tight little cunt, making him forget everything as he rocks into you. “Fuck.” He hisses softly. “So beautiful, so tight around me.” He praises.

You rock your hips up to meet his, your hands caressing his back as he pushes deep inside of you. “Fuck baby. Max. Feel so good.” You moan as your nails lightly scratch his back. “Want you to feel good after you made me feel so good.”

Max shudders, aware that anyone could walk in and watch him fucking you, but he doesn’t care. Or maybe it’s that he wishes they would. That they would see that he’s pleasuring such a beautiful woman. “You do, you do.” He pants out. “Feels so good.”

You keep him close, your legs wrapped around him as he pushes deep, slow but precise. “Max. God, that - that’s it.” You pant and he reaches down to rub your clit. You’re so close. Still worked up from your previous orgasm, it doesn’t take you long until you’re clamping down on his cock. Your cry echoing in the empty function room covered in gilded gold.

“That’s it, cum for me.” He hisses, loving the unrestrained way you cry out for him. Letting anyone nearby know that he is making you feel good. His throats turn sloppy, pace faltering as he starts to chase his own release. Groaning your name as he slaps his hips against your once more and presses deep, his body shaking as he empties himself into the condom.

You watch him as he cums, loving how tight his body gets. Jaw clenched and eyes fluttering shut as you get a glimpse into the one and only moment Maxwell Lord relaxes. “That’s it baby. So good.” You murmur, caressing his upper back as you continue to watch him.

When he pulls out of you carefully, his hands are pulling your robe closed so no one could see you even before he's slipping off the condom. Tying it in a knot and tossing it in a trashcan near the piano, he offers you his hand to help you down. "We should sleep." He murmurs, seeing how tired you are after your orgasm.

You nod, letting Max help you off of the piano with shaking legs and you’re soon back in the room. The same as the night before, you get ready for bed and he goes off to review a report, leaving you to fall asleep alone. 

**** 

The next morning, you come out of the room to find Max reading the newspaper. “Good morning.” You greet him, leaning in to kiss his cheek and he hums a good morning to you. “What’s the plan for today?” You ask and he smiles at you, “shopping.” You groan, “no. I- I went yesterday and they were so mean to me.”

Max frowns and folds over his paper, “mean to you? What do you mean?” He demands, his frown deepening even more as you explain and he shakes his head. “Get dressed.” He decides. “I’m coming with you.” 

****

He doesn’t let you pull your hand out of his. Dressed in your outfit you wore the night you met, your heels from last night and one of his dress shirts, you look sexy. The limo driver drops you off on Rodeo drive, he chooses one of the most expensive looking boutiques to walk into. 

“Hello, how may we-“ the worker starts her spiel but Max just cuts her off. 

“We are looking to spend an obscene amount of money.” He declares. “Very obscene. So we are looking to be sucked up to.” He smirks as he looks over at you and winks as he pulls out his Amex card and hands it to you. The one that has no limit. 

“How obscene sir?” The manager asks greedily and Max smirks, “very. Make sure she gets what she wants.” He gestures over to you as you stand admiring the dresses shown to you. Max comes over and takes your hand, “I have a meeting to go to but I’ll see you later.” He says, kissing the back of your hand. You want to pout but instead you nod, letting him go. When he leaves, you try on more clothes than you’ve ever owned, pick out lingerie and nighties. You stare at the man holding a pair of shoes and you see his tie. “Max would love that.” You point to it and the a manager snaps his fingers, “your tie.” He demands and the man takes his tie off to hand it to you. 

You leave the store dressed to the nines and you carry the bags as you make your way back to the store you went in the day before. “Hi, you refused to help me yesterday.” You say to the woman and she frowns until her eyes widen. “You work on commission?” You ask her and she nods. You hold up your bags, “big mistake. Big. Huge.” You tell them before you leave with a massive smirk on your face, unable to believe how on top of the world you feel as you make your way back to the hotel.

Max opens the door to the suite, briefcase in hand and expecting to find you opening dozens of boxes and bags from your shopping excursion. Instead, he finds you sitting at the table, wearing nothing but a tie and your heels. He smirks, setting down the case on the table and stepping closer to you. “That’s a nice tie.” He muses, admiring the way it sits between your tits.

You smirk at him as he walks in and freezes and you slowly uncross your legs, spreading them so he can see your cunt. “I got it for you today.” You coo, reaching down to squeeze your breast. “Thought it would look good on you.” You wink at him and slide your hand lower until you’re rubbing your clit, showing him how wet you are for him.

“Looks…expensive.” He banters and you shoot him a smirk.

“All yours for the low, low price of three thousand dollars.” You tease, reminding him and yourself of how much money he is paying you to stay with him. “Yes, a very expensive tie.” He strides forward and wraps his hand around the silk pinstripe tie, the back of his knuckles dragging over your breasts. “I think it might be my new favorite.”

You smirk up at him, “yeah? Maybe you can wear it tomorrow…after I’m done with it. Might have to take it off though if you want to fuck me hard…maybe fuck my ass?” You ask, biting your lip as you think of the lube you got from the pharmacy on the way back from shopping.

His eyes widen and he glances down at your beautiful cunt and then back at your face. “You want that?” He asks hoarsely, cock twitching. “I’ve never- no one has, um, wanted that. So I don’t know what you would want to get ready for me.”

You giggle at the way he seems flustered. Unused to seeing him like this when you know he’s so stoic in his business. You bite your lip as you lower your leg from the table and stand up to walk over to him. “I have lube. I have thought about this all afternoon so I have, uh, fingered myself open for you. Just need your gorgeous fingers to make sure I’m ready for you and then I have lube so you can fuck me. Want you to experience it with me.” You murmur, caressing his cheek as you stand naked before him bar the tie.

“On your back or your stomach?” He asks, cupping your tits immediately and squeezing them. “What is comfortable for you? What do you like? How did you imagine me fucking you?”

“On my back. I want to watch you.” You tell him as he pinches your nipples and you gasp out his name. “I want to watch your first time doing this.” You say and you pull a condom out from the flap at the back of the tie. “You ready, Mr. Lord?” You smirk, knowing you’ll be wet from him fucking you like this.

“Bedroom.” Max growls out, snatching the condom out of your hand and resisting the urge to grab the tie to drag you closer for a kiss. Reminding himself that he cannot kiss you, it was your one stipulation. He’s eager to experience this, to show you that he can learn new things. “Get your lube.”

You grab the bottle of lube from the side and you rush into the bedroom, loving how animalistic he is. You fling the tie off and throw it down on the chair as you lay down on the bed. “Get undressed Max.” You order, wanting to watch him strip out of his suit.

Max obeys your order, watching you as he starts to strip his suit off. Your greedy eyes make him feel desirable, wanted. It seems like you truly want him. He unpins his cuffs and slowly starts to unbutton his shirt. "Touch yourself." He orders. "Show me how you prepared yourself for me today."

You spread your legs, laying down to lift your ass into the air a little and you slide your fingers through your wet folds, gathering your arousal before you slide them lower to gently push into your ass, showing him how you’ve opened yourself up as you begin to work your fingers in and out.

“Oh fuck.” Max groans, eyes fixed on your ass as you start to finger yourself. “I should have been here for this.” He shrugs out of his shirt and works his belt open. “I would have jerked off.”

You moan at the thought, “you were busy working. Didn’t want to disturb you. You told me to never answer the phone and I assume that means making calls too.” You tell him and he pushes his pants down along with his briefs to expose his hard cock. “God, baby. Your cock is so gorgeous.” You murmur, “want your fingers first. Work me open a little more.” You say and reach for the lube you threw down on the bed.

“I can work you open more.” He promises, wrapping his hand around his cock and pumping it as he kneels on the bed. “Don’t want to hurt you. Want you to feel good. Can you cum from having your ass fucked, or is my pretty girl gonna rub her little clit while I fuck you?”

You whimper, “need to rub my clit to cum.” You tell him and he nods, shifting to kneel on the bed and he pulls your fingers from inside of you. “Lube baby.” He orders and you grab the bottle, squirting some onto his fingers so he can replace your digits with his own. When he does, your head tilts back at the stretch and you moan his name.

You’re gorgeous as he stretches you out on his fingers. Pushing deep inside a hole he had never expected to be in. Scissoring his fingers to work you more as you start to grind down on him, “you like that? Does it feel good?” He asks after long minutes working his fingers inside you. 

“Feels good baby. Want you to feel good.” You murmur as he scissors his fingers to open you up and you watch him as he pumps his cock with his other hand. “Fuck me. Need you inside of me.” You demand as you reach for the lube.

Max pulls his finger out of you and rips open the condom with his teeth. Rolling it down his length and groaning when you smear the condom with the lube generously. “I hope you’re ready.” He hisses, “position me.”

You pant as you reach down to position him, heart pounding as he starts to push in and you watch his face as he pushes in. You’re intoxicated by the look of awe on his face as he pushes into you, slow but precise. “Feel good?” You ask him, wanting to enjoy this.

“Tighter.” He groans, unable to believe how your ring of muscles is squeezing his cock. He checks with you, “how- is it good? Slower? Faster? How do you enjoy it?” He doesn’t just want this to be for him. You are supposed to enjoy yourself too, at least that’s what he wants.

You close your eyes for a second before you open them. “Slow at first then you can speed up. I will enjoy it because it’s you, baby.” You promise, reaching up to caress his forearms as he starts to slowly rock into you. You want to see him wrecked from enjoying this new experience. You’re happy to give it to him.

“You’re so fucking incredible.” He groans as he starts to pull back. Keeping your words in mind as he keeps the pace slow. Enjoying the way your body quivers and tenses under him. “Rub your clit for me.” He orders, remembering how you said you needed to in order to cum. “Want you to cum too.”

You nod, reaching down to rub your clit as he starts to move inside of you. “That’s it baby. Move a little faster. Need you to fuck me like you want. That’s what I want.” You tell him with a moan, your hands caressing his.

He groans, picking up the pace slightly as he watches you rub your clit. It’s so interesting watching himself fuck your ass. Watching your cunt flutter around nothing and yet you are moaning and clearly enjoying yourself. 

You moan as he rocks into you, pushing deeper and stretching you out. “So good baby. Oh God, so good.” You whimper as you rub your clit a little faster. “Keep going, Max. I’m gonna cum from it.” You tell him breathlessly.

He twitches inside you, gasping when you clamp down on him again and his next thrust isn’t as patient as the others. It’s more feral, unrestrained but then the next thrust is more like the others.

It’s your turn to gasp as he becomes more confident and pushes deep into you on the next thrust. “Yessss Max.” You moan, frantically rubbing your clit as he pushes into you again and again. You’re so close. The look on his face has your heart pounding and a couple of thrusts later, you’re clamping down around nothing as you squeeze him inside of your ass.

“Fuck, fuck!” Max hisses, unable to control himself as you start to cum. His thrusts turn frantic and he pushes deep as you squeeze him. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” He cries out, feeling the pull in his groin and seconds later, he’s filling the condom with a moan of your name.

You watch him in rapture, loving the look on his face as he cums, filling the condom up. “God, that’s it baby.” You caress his arms as he leans down to kiss you but you turn your head, not wanting to break your rule despite really wanting to kiss him. “Good?” You ask him, wanting to know if he enjoyed it as much as you did.

Max nuzzles your cheek and kisses it softly. “Amazing.” He whispers softly, wishing he could kiss you. “Thank you.” He grips the base of the condom and pulls out of you gently. “Do you want to take a bath?”

You nod, needing to relax your muscles. It doesn’t take long for you to be wrapped around him in a bath, you grab the sponge to wash his chest and you kiss his neck. “What’s on for tomorrow?” You ask and he hums, caressing your arms, “polo match.” You nod, “I’ve never been to polo. What do I wear?” You ask,

“A nice day dress.” He hums. “Something flowy, a big hat to keep the sun off you.” You nod eagerly. “I have just the thing. It’s a cute dress with white polka dots, but it doesn’t have sleeves, is that okay?” 

Max shrugs. “I don’t see why not.”

**** 

The next day, you and Max arrive at the polo grounds and you are immediately nervous and feel out of the place. Max seems to be in his element mixing with the upper crust and he leaves you with two sisters, going off to see his attorney. “So you’re the flavor of the week.” They giggle and you smirk, “oh no. I’m just using him for sex.” You stride off to find Max.

“Who is this girl? Where did she come from?” Max’s attorney is a nervous sort, who sees corporate spies behind every door. 

“Phil, don’t worry about it, she’s not a spy.” He assures him, but the man is about to stroke out because you’ve found David Morse, or the man found you, and you’re petting his polo pony. 

“See?” He hisses, grabbing Max’s arm. 

“Tell me she’s not a spy!” Max sighs, knowing he can trust his lawyer of nearly fifteen years. “She’s a hooker.” He tells the man in confidence. Phil looks skeptical, but Max nods. “Picked her up on the Boulevard the night that you loaned me the car.” He huffs. “Think Morse has spies turning tricks? There’s nothing to worry about.” Your laughter catches his attention and he looks over to find you laughing with the horse nipping at your palm and he smiles, thinking you look beautiful. “Excuse me.”

Max comes over to you as you say goodbye to David and he wraps his arm around you and you watch as the upper crust go out to pat down the holes on the field as is tradition according to the announcer. You take the glass of champagne Max offers you until he tells you he wants to talk to someone and leaves you on your own. His attorney, Phil, approaches you, his wife off talking to the others, and Phil chuckles. “You know, you dress up nice.” He says and you turn to look at him, “thanks.” He reaches up to gently run his finger down your arm, “yeah. You clean up nice compared to what you must wear on the boulevard.” Your jaw drops slightly and you turn to look at him. “Maybe I’ll have to come and find you when Max is done with you.” He winks and walks off and you clench your jaw, biting back a retort. When Max comes over, you’re silent and you remain silent until you get back to the hotel. 

**** 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Max asks when you storm into the room, straight to the bedroom where you begin to gather the clothes he bought for you.

“You. Telling Phil that I’m a prostitute. He - he said you told him and I- I just thought you wouldn’t be telling everyone there what I am to you.” You spit, zipping up the garment bag.

Max huffs, pissed off at Phil for telling you. “He thought you were a corporate spy.” He snorts, still amused by that. “Was talking about running a background check on you. And you talking to David Morse didn’t help.” He hates that a thread of jealousy had ripped through him when you had been talking to the other handsome guy, annoyed that you might be more interested in him than Max.

“I just - I thought - I thought we would discuss what you told people before you announced to everyone that I’m a hooker.” You huff as you grab your things.

 “You are a hooker.” Max says and your heart breaks. You thought you were- well, never mind. 

You swallow the lump in your throat and you say, “I want to leave. Now.” You grab your purse and Max nods, grabbing his pocket book to throw the money down on the bed. You swallow harshly as he walks out the room and you don’t want his money. You storm through the hotel suite to the doors and you walk away from him, waiting for the elevator.

Max looks back into the bedroom and sees that you’ve left all the money on the bed, his heart aching at the thought of you leaving. His shoes are still off but he walks out of the suite and down the hall to where you are waiting for the elevator car. Pausing for a second when you won’t look at him. “I’m sorry that I told Phil.” He apologizes. “Will you please come back inside?”

You stare at the golden doors, clothes folded over your arms. They open a few seconds later with the bellboy standing there. “Please?” Max asks, his dark eyes wide as he stares at you pleadingly. You bite your lips as you look at him until you sigh, nodding. “Sorry.” You tell the bellboy and you step back towards Max.

He’s relieved that you are willing to come back to the room and he takes your bag and the clothes out of your arms to carry them for you. Biting his lip as he brings them back into the bedroom and the money is still on the bed.

You set the clothes down and your purse, crossing your arms as you wait for him to say something. “You didn’t take the money.” He says and you shake your head, “I don’t want it.” You confess, “it’s - it’s changed. This situation has changed.” You confess and he nods. You step closer to him, “are you…you think I should stay?”

“I do.” He confesses, reaching out and touching your shoulder. “I didn’t like it when you were talking to Morse.” He continues on. You look at him strangely, “we were just talking.” You remind him. “I didn’t like it.” He repeats, feeling almost possessive of you. Sure, he has purchased your time and use of your body, but he also wants your interest, your thoughts.

You turn towards him, cupping his cheek as he admits his jealousy. “Baby. I’m yours. Until I leave.” You tease, leaning in to kiss his chin. “But that won’t be tonight. I want…I want you to show me that you’re sorry.” You smirk, pushing down on his shoulders, “make me cum.” You smile at him as you work on the zipper of your dress, wanting to feel his tongue again. 

**** 

In bed, you turn to face Max and he softly asks you how you ended up in L.A. You sigh, “I followed a boyfriend over here. He - he was a bum. I have always dated bums. One cheated on me. One went to jail. This one…I followed to L.A and he dumped me for some other girl. I refused to go home with my tail between my legs so I got whatever job I could. Even valeted cars for a bit. Then I couldn’t pay my rent. I met Kit and she told me how much she made…how easy it is. I- I decided to do it. No one plans on becoming a hooker but - I cried. The first time. I cried the entire time.” You confess, shifting a little closer to him.

Max frowns, his heart hurting for you, how you must have felt. “I’m sorry.” He murmurs softly, feeling compelled to tell you his story as well. “My ex constantly told me I wasn’t good enough. I didn’t make enough money or I wasn’t a good enough lover.” He snorts. “She paraded lovers through our home and tried to convince me it was my fault.”

“She was an idiot.” You scoff, reaching out to caress his chest. “You’re handsome. You’re funny. You’re smart as hell. You’re rich as fuck. Why would she say you’re not good enough? Pfft. She’s a goddamn fool.” You scoff and Max snorts, pulling you close but not saying a word. His heart thumping in his chest as he holds you close. 

**** 

“What are we doing today?” You ask Max as you walk into the living room in your robe. He looks up from his reports. “Tonight, we are going to the opera.” Your eyes widen, “the opera?” He nods and you are nervous at the thought. “How am I going to understand anything they sing?” You ask and he smiles at you, “it transcends words. Languages.” You nod, “guess I better get another dress.” 

**** 

Max adjusts his cufflinks as you exit the bedroom, wearing the red dress that you can barely breathe in but it’s worth it. It’s gorgeous and you’ve never felt so beautiful. “You like it?” You ask Max, wanting his approval.

“Hmmm.” Max shakes his head slightly. “It’s missing something.” He decides and pulls out a large jewelry box out of his jacket. He had stopped and picked it up on the way back to the hotel. “Now…” he opens it and snaps it back shut before you can see inside. “This is on loan. You can’t keep this.”

Your eyes widen and you giggle when he snaps the lid shut on your hand and you gasp when you see the necklace again. “Max…oh my God.” You are in awe of the jewelry and you look at it. 

“Let’s get it on you.” Max says and you let him escort you over to the mirror. He fastens it on your neck and you touch it, “how much is this?” You ask and your eyes widen when he says a quarter of a million. “A quarter mil?” You gasp and he nods, “on loan.” You giggle and reach for your clutch as Max escorts you through the hotel where everyone looks at you in awe. “Everyone’s staring.” You murmur.

“Of course they are.” Max huffs, proud to have you on his arm. You are gorgeous and look fucking amazing in your dress. “Good evening, Mr. Lord.” The limo driver nods as he opens the door once you are out of the hotel. “The pilot is ready to take off as soon as you arrive.” Max smiles as he helps you into the car. “Good.”

Your eyes widen once more and you lean into his side, unable to say much as you are driven to a small airport and right up to a private jet. “Max?” You gasp as he escorts you up the steps and onto the plane. You didn’t know that this kind of life was real but it is and you’re in awe of the luxury Max lives in.

“I didn’t tell you?” He asks playfully as he guides you towards a seat and he nods when the stewardess asks if you would like champagne before take off. “The opera is in San Francisco.”

You grin, shaking your head in disbelief. “Is this my life?” You ask Max and he chuckles, leaning in to kiss your cheek. 

**** 

When you arrive at the opera house, Max ushers you to your seats which happens to be a balcony. “You said you don’t like heights?” You ask him as you sit down in your seats. “I don’t.” Max says and you lean in closer, “then why did you get these?” 

He chuckles, “because they are the best.” You playfully roll your eyes and he winks at you just as the opera is about to start. You grab the binoculars and try to figure them out. You flip them until Max chuckles and puts them the right way. “Thank you.” You smile and the music begins.

Max looks over at you during the first act and you are completely enthralled. Eyes fixed on the stage and you are twisting your program in your lap as you watch. He finds it almost more entertaining than the opera. Reaching for your hand, he picks it up and kisses the back of it as tears slip down your cheeks from the beauty of the story is conveyed through the emotion of the performance.

The opera ends and you swallow back the lump in your throat as you wipe your tears away. It was beautiful and moving and you’ve never been to anything like it. “Max.” You sigh when you get back to the hotel after a quiet flight back to L.A. “God, Max. That was incredible.” You sigh as you step out of your heels. “Thank you for taking me.” You tell him, reaching up to remove his tie.

Max smiles at you. “Did you enjoy yourself?” He asks, even though he knows you did. Happy that he could give you this experience, he reaches out and touches the loaned necklace. “Remove your dress, but leave the necklace on.”

You smirk, shaking your head at him. “Let’s play chess.” You say, wanting to keep him on his feet even if he’s paying for you. You grab a Diet Coke from the fridge and move over to the table where the chess board is c waiting for Max. “Come play with me.” You demand as Max watches you. He nods and comes over after removing his jacket and tie. “Take tomorrow off.” You say after he’s won a game and you’re on the next.

“What would I do?” He asks with a frown, knowing that he’s come to L.A. to work. To make this deal happen and make a lot of money.

You reach out to rub your foot against his ankle. “Nothing. Anything. Relax.” You tell him, knowing he takes no time to himself. “You could explore the city. Have lunch. Have sex.” You wink, wanting him to have a day to himself when all he does is work.

He purses his lips, about to tease you and remind you that you turned him down, but the idea is intriguing. “We’ll go on a picnic.” He decides. “I’ve not been on one in so long.”

“Let’s do that then.” You grin and stand up, slowly moving around the table to straddle him in his seat. “And for now…I want to show you how much I enjoyed the opera.” You lean in to kiss his neck and his hands find your waist, sliding up to unzip your dress. “Fuck me with this necklace on before we return it.” You murmur into his neck as you bite his ear. 

**** 

You adjust your skirt as Max finishes getting dressed and after he’s ready, you take his hand as he guides you out of the hotel and into Beverly Hills where there’s nothing planned for once in Max’s life.

The two of you manage to find a deli who is willing to put together a picnic basket for the handsome sum Max slipped him. The charming wicker basket hangs from his hand and he feels lighter than he has in a long time. When you reach the park, you take off the stylish flats you are wearing and grin at him. “Take off your shoes.” 

He snorts and looks down at the Italian loafers. “What?”

“Take off your shoes.” You tell him and he stares at you for a second before he follows your order. You lay out the blanket and you sit down as you grab the basket to open it. You eat and watch the people pass by until Max pulls a book out of his pocket. “Shakespeare?” You ask in curiosity.

  “Of course.” Max huffs playfully, as if everyone should carry Shakespeare in their pocket. “What else would we read while drinking wine and laying in the grass?”

You giggle and listen to Max as he reads a sonnet, your head on his chest. Later that day, you go to a small diner and sit and eat at the bar, laughing at Max as he tells a story from his high school days. When you return to the hotel, you tell Max you’re going to go get ready for bed. You change into one of the silky nightgowns that Max bought you and you adjust your hair as you make your way back out into the bedroom. Max is leaning against the headboard, his eyes shut as he finally sleeps. You shift quietly to sit next to him, smiling. “He sleeps.” You murmur, leaning in to gently kiss his cheek, turning your head slightly to kiss his lips. You break your rule to give him a piece of yourself without him knowing you’ve broken your rule.

The next morning, Max apologizes to you about having to leave so early, rushing out of the hotel suite before you can even have breakfast together. He has a meeting with Mr. Morse that the rest of the board doesn’t know about, not even his lawyer. Wanting to talk to the old man one on one. Or with David too, but without the sharks to smell blood in the water.

You gather your things, packing your bag, and you wait for Max to return from his meeting. The doorbell rings and you answer the door, eyes widening when you see Max’s lawyer, Phil. “How are you?” You ask him and he storms in. You shut the door behind you and you watch him as he practically pulls his hair out, walking over to the bar to pour himself a scotch.

“How am I? I wish I knew. I used to know. Just like I used to know how Max was. But now, I think he’s with you.” He tells you, taking a sip of the scotch and staring at you. Max had completely undone all of his hard work, ruined his chances for making a boatload off this deal and it’s all because of you.

“Max will be back soon. Any minute he’ll be home.” You tell Phil who scoffs, “home? This isn’t your home. This is a hotel room and you aren’t the little woman. You’re a hooker.” Your stomach twists and you swallow down the urge to slap him and decide to sit down on the sofa instead. Phil follows, sitting down beside you, and he sets down the empty glass on the coffee table until he places his hand on your bare thigh. 

“So how much is it? You must be good to have Max all tangled up. I wouldn’t mind a piece of that pussy.” Phil says as he slides his hand up higher and you gasp, grabbing his wrist to push him away. He growls and pounces on you, pushing you back into the sofa and you scream, trying to get out from under him. Phil reacts, slapping you across the face to get you to shut up but you scream out again, putting up a fight.

Max had been in a good mood as he let himself into the suite. Ready to tell you about the deal he had struck with Morse. He wasn’t going to dismantle the company anymore, he was going to invest and make sure that Morse enterprises build the ships they wanted to. When he sees Phil on top of you and you struggling, something snaps in him and he rushes over to drag the man off of you, spinning him around and punching him in the mouth. “What is the matter with you!”

“She’s a whore, man.” Phil growls and Max shakes his head, about to punch the man again. Max throws his briefcase down the hall "this is bullshit. Bullshit. I gave you ten years of my life!" Phil cries, throwing up his hands. 

Max shakes his head again. “This is such bullshit. It's the kill you love not me. Get out of here. Get out!" He demands and Phil stumbles down the hall as Max slams the door. You sit on the sofa, nursing your sore cheek and Max immediately rushes to get you some ice. You hiss when he presses it to your cheek, covered in the napkin, and he looks ready to kill. “Are you okay?” He asks, despite knowing you’re not. 

“I’m fine. I- I gotta go.” You choke out, knowing this moment just solidified your leaving. 

“Don’t go.” Max murmurs, “come with me to New York.” 

You shake your head, “I can’t go with you. It’s - it’s always going to be someone. Some guy who finds out what I am and wants something from me. You can’t beat everyone up.” You reach out to caress his cheek, wanting to cry but you remain strong. 

“Stay here then. Stay and I’ll get you a condo. You can have a card to spend whatever you want if you see me when I come back here.” 

You shake your head again. “That’s a mighty fine offer for a girl like me but I can’t take it. I want…I want more than just the castle. I want the prince. I want the fairytale.” You confess, eyes burning into his. 

He nods and stands up, helping you up and you gather your things again. “Stay with me. One night. One more night. Not because I’m paying you but because I want you to.” He pleads softly and you sigh, “I can’t.” 

You watch him as he takes the money and places it in your hand along with his card, stamped with gold. You lean in to kiss his cheek, “you have a lot of special gifts.” 

Max chuckles, “my special gift is complicated relationships.” You smirk, reaching for his hand before you make your way to the elevator. Max watches you go and somehow you make it down to the lobby. You find Barney and tell him you’ve come to say goodbye. “Thank you for everything.” You murmur and lean in to kiss his cheek. 

He smiles at you, “you’re welcome back whenever you wish, goodbye.” He reaches for your hand to kiss the back of it. “The hotel limo will take you wherever you wish to go.” He says and you nod, “stay cool.” You wink and make your way out of the hotel, knowing you’ll never return.

Max walks through the suite, touching the surfaces that you had touched. The table where he had you for breakfast instead of food. The bathtub you had laid in together. He already misses you. He can’t let you go. Picking up the telephone, he’s connected to the front desk. “Yes, Mr. Lord?” The voice on the other end says. 

He bites his lip. “I need the limo and a dozen roses.” He orders.

You arrive back at your apartment and see Kit, telling her your decision to go to San Francisco to start again, to finish school. You pack your things, including your new clothes, and hand Kit some cash before she leaves because she says she can’t handle goodbyes. Your bus leaves soon and you’re about to go when you hear a horn honking. You go out on your rickety fire escape and you see the hotel limo approach, Max hanging out of the roof window and your eyes widen. Opera plays from the car and Max jumps out when the car stops. You lean over as he contemplates what to do when he looks up at the high fire escape and you giggle when he puts the flower stems into his mouth so he can climb up the stairs. “Don’t-” You don’t get to protest as he rushes up and you decide to meet him halfway, chest heaving as you face him. He comes to you, handing you the flowers. “Max?” You gasp and he stands before you. 

“I can’t let you go. I - it’s more than this week. You- you’ve crawled under my skin. Into my heart. I don’t want to let you go, I want you to be mine.” He declares and your heart clenches. 

“I love you Max.” You murmur, stepping closer to him and you cup his cheeks. 

“So what happens after a prince climbs up the tower to rescue the princess?” He asks you breathlessly. 

“She rescues him right back.” You grin and lean in to press your lips to his. He groans and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close and you melt into the kiss. You never imagined you’d be meeting the man you love by walking the boulevard. You thought you’d be down on your luck forever until a handsome man pulled up in a Lotus Esprit to change your life forever.

​​

[strawberryblueberrypies]

Hi! Welcome to my blog!

My name's what's on the tin, but you can call me SBP!

My blog is primarily Sonic related. Dedicated to my OC's but I really wanted to find other cool OC's hence I'm here!

Expect to see: Sonic, digital art, style mimicking (it's fun!), fondness of less beloved Sonic titles, strong girls and birbs!

I won't engage in negativity, be it towards me, others or the franchise. My focus is on being positive and having fun.

MINORS DNI! I do not want to interact with anyone underage! You will be blocked if you follow me!

I also have a Transformers OC blog! Check it out if you're interested!

Here's a short introduction on my 5 Sonic OCs! Please bear in mind it's a work in progress as I slowly replay the games and learn more! Also yes I was trying to copy Yuji Uekawa's/2000's Sonic artwork.

Name: Heat the Mynah

Species: Babylonian

Related games: Sonic Riders, Sonic Riders: Zero Gravity, Sonic and the Secret Rings (AU because I want excuses to draw Erazor Djinn, Shahra, Erazor again, oh and Erazor)

Extreme Gear: Type-H (Speed type)

Rivals: Amy

Personality: Heat is fun loving and impulsive. She might look like an airhead but she has a cunning manipulative side. She's aware she's cute and often uses her charms to get others to do her bidding. She doesn't use her "powers" for evil but she sure has had Storm bring her stuff at 3AM. Heat also has collectionist tendencies, often keeping stolen treasure for herself instead of selling like the others. Though she loves danger and doesn't seem to have fears, two things make her shake in her boots: certain death and existencial/cosmic threats!

Fun fact: Heat's favorite places to race are Metal City, 90's Boulevard and the Gigan Rocks! Mobius Strip gives her bad memories though.

Name: Mist the Tiger

Species: Indochinese tiger

Home: Sol Dimension

Relevant games: Sonic Rush, Sonic Rush Adventure, Sonic 06 (Maybe?)

Friends: Blaze (Ex-rival), Silver, Cream, Knuckles (Rivals?), Heat (Sorry, Riders is too fun of a concept)

Powers: Water control (Unstable; turns into mist/fog without the Sol Emeralds), Super strength

Personality: Mist is hot-headed and very excited to fight others. She values strength very much and wants to fight anything that moves! Before being defeated, she was very aggressive and selfish but after befriending Blaze she became friendship oriented and affectionate, even if she remains imposing. Mist isn't the sharpest tool in the shed and is very impulsive and restless. In fact she's too much of a meathead to really feel fear.

Fun fact: Her blue gem is a heirloom and is what helps her channel water. It changes color in her super form due to it becoming saturated. It acts like training wheels until she fully gains control over time.

Name: Elegy the Cosmos

Occupation/Species: Goddess of Space

Powers: Teleportation, Psychic communication (she doesn't speak, you can only hear her in your thoughts if she's within speaking range), Dark matter control.

Backstory: Elegy is the Goddess of Space and went to visit Sonic's dimension to stop population overgrowth in his universe eons ago. She spent a lot longer in the dimension than intended, staying away from her Home and gradually becoming weaker as a result. After creating The End she expended all her remaining energy, leaving her trapped. She ventured the universe for millenias trying to regain enough power to go back Home but with so much time passing, she grew to resent the dimension she's trapped in and convinced herself that she has to destroy it.

Personality: Elegy is cold and factual, not caring for lies or manipulation. She focuses on the greater picture, seeing mortals as mere puppets in a greater cosmic theater she's in charge of. She often doesn't understand people and her resentment causes her to seem uninterested in learning about them, but deep down she's still just as curious about their little insignificant antics as she was way back when.

Fun fact: Despite seeming emotionless, Elegy can and does feel emotions. In fact, the white tips of her ears and tail change color depending on what she's feeling at the time.

Name: Poise the Viper

Occupation: L.A.N.C.E. Freelancer

Relevant Games: Sonic Adventure 2, Sonic 06 (Kinda)

Rivals: Rouge the Bat

Powers: High flexibility and speed, Hypnotic smoke

Backstory: Poise is the heir to a rich family with high political power, but due to her irresponsible spending she found herself in massive amounts of debt. With her family unwilling to pay her bills, she had to find a high paying gig. Through her fascination with the Space Colony Ark and Project Shadow, she stumbled upon Lovers Against Nefarious Corporations and Entities, or L.A.N.C.E., a once small and peaceful protest group turned independant organization that's heavily against G.U.N. due to the events 50 years ago. She now works as an agent, being frequently tasked with getting in the way of G.U.N's missions and goals.

Personality: Poise is highly vain, caring a lot about her looks and economic status. She's also very petty. She's sneaky and decieving, hiding the fact she's deeply insecure and in need of external validation with an arrogant and smug mask. She likes to feel wanted and on top of things. She also loves romance and beautiful scenery.

Fun fact: Poise can wear accessories ala SA2's upgrades. She's often tasked with some thanks to L.A.N.C.E's aid during missions.

Name: Umbra the Android

Species: Shadow Android

Relevant games: Sonic Heroes, Shadow the Hedgehog

Allies: Poise the Viper, Invade the Artificial Wisp

Powers: High speed, agility and intelligence. Easy time operating computers. Can't use chaos control but has heightened strength.

Backstory: Umbra is one of the Shadow androids built by Doctor Eggman. The place was found by Poise during a mission and he was retrieved back to L.A.N.C.E. HQ. Upon activation, he was made aware that he was an Android, not the original, and was asked a barrage of questions by L.A.N.C.E. leader, Commander Layla. Her intent was to have him expose through personal account the horrors that happened near the end of Project Shadow, exposing G.U.N. to the public. Despite really having Shadow's memories up until him falling back to Earth, he feigned amnesia, aware that should he give them what they want he'll be discarded just like the original was by G.U.N. 50 years ago. As a result, Layla decided to give him a place to stay in the L.A.N.C.E HQ until he "regained his memory", while also trying to please him due to his high importance. To prevent boredom at being stuck in HQ and possibly help him remember, he was given permission to partake in missions. He was also allowed to customize his body (as long as he uses his original Shadow look during the exposé) and given another top secret L.A.N.C.E project, Invade, to keep company at HQ and help in missions

Personality: Umbra is acutely aware he's a copy of Shadow. Feeling like a "shadow of a shadow", he picked the namd Umbra, his goal being to eventually be his own person. Having Shadow's memories, he's very similar to the original: brooding, serious, stoic, quick to get things done. Where he differs is his attempts to branch out and create meaningful connections, even if he isn't the best at showing affection. He doesn't wish to be alone in the world, aware of his unusual and unnatural circumstance, aware that otherwise he has nowhere to go. Due to his memories, he has tried to create distance from them. But still finds himself feeling rage and grief when remembering Maria and the A.R.K. He hopes to meet Sonic one day, part of him still having that rivalry, part of him hoping he'll be seen as his own person.

Fun fact: Umbra considers Eggman's other robots as siblings. He's melancholic over the fact him and Omega have to fight, hoping to one day be on good terms with him and fight alongside him instead of against.

[cigarretteluvr]

He unlocks his car with the charm of a cult leader. Wearing a white wife beater, denim jeans, and chucks, there’s something about his smile that makes him almost disgustingly American and makes me weak in the knees. Arms on display, tattoos on display, one wrist drapes over the steering wheel with such carelessness that the car seems to drive itself. The other loosely hangs out the window, adding to his uneven tan. It’s hot in Southern California- but in his logic, never too hot for a cigarette. His reds match the chipped paint of his ‘99 mercury and i have to wonder if maybe he’s a time traveler from a more glamorous era. A James Dean reincarnate, a Hollywood Boulevard star, a Los Angeles cowboy, who would have had Buell or even Babitz fawning. He’s rugged and he’s beautiful. He’s charming and he’s wild. He’s strong and he holds me like fine china. As he lights his cigarette, still driving, I hear Richards in my head soundtracking this cinematic masterpiece of a boy.

-American Dream

[bearfoottruck]

FANFIC UPDATE 5-31-2024:

So, this is the last day of AMay, and I forgot to mention that on Tuesday - which was National Masturbation Day - I did a hot and spicy Shadamy fic called Amy's Stiff Proposition (Fanfiction, AO3). On a somewhat more family-friendly note, today, I published an Amy-centric story called Trouble On Wheels (Fanfiction, AO3). Other than that, the usual updates for Gonna Kiss You On the Boulevard (Fanfiction, AO3) abound.

[lunaryrs]

🎵 cora and sienna

team / lorde

call all the ladies out, they're in their finery. a hundred jewels on throats, a hundred jewels between teeth. now bring my boys in, their skin in craters like the moon. the moon we love like a brother while he glows through the room. dancing around the lies we tell, dancing around big eyes as well. even the comatose, they don't dance and tell.

this one representing the entire friend group... i think they're so early lorde coded because they're so small town punk bitch royalty, skateboard wheels on cracked asphalt, slurpees in the parking lot, the gaggle of them with bruised knees and scuffed converse feeling on top of the world cuz their little hole-in-the-wall bar doesn't look too hard at their fake IDs when its otherwise dead on tuesday nights.

youth / troye sivan what if we run away? what if we left today? ... what if we start to drive? what if we close our eyes? what if we're speeding through red lights into paradise? 'cause we've no time for getting old, mortal bodies, timeless souls. cross your fingers, here we go. ... my youth is yours.

ummm why do i need ot explain this one just read the words. no i'm kidding i had a whole thought out thing for this one but i prioritized writing out other ones and then jake called me in the middle of doing that and i forgot about everything and this whole meme went to shit and here we are. but i know that you have a big brain and honestly? even if you didn't this one is pretty self explanatory.

16 / sadie jean

your old room, these walls look different. nothing's new, just days and distance. and i'm freaked out the more i realize it's gone now, but sometimes i want to be 16 at the park, parked in your dad's car. ... best friends, wanna get drunk in a backyard. so cool hanging out in the backyard. girl talk, talk about boys like it's business. mom's mad, gotta get home this instant. 16, bittersweet.

bram is only a baby and all but fuck that guy for coming between them like this............ i don't know i just picture cora in that little apartment with the baby reminiscing on the youth that she had/should still have rly and seeing her friendship w sienna at the center of it all. reflecting on the passing of time and all that's been lost and gained. they're still in each other's lives they'll just never have that version of themselves back and i think cora wishes she recognized how good those moments were when she was in them

"slut!" / taylor swift

flamingo pink, sunrise boulevard. clink clink, being this young is art. aquamarine moonlit swimming pool. what if all i need is you? ... adorned with smoke on my clothes, lovelorn and nobody knows. love thorns all over this rose. ... but if i'm all dressed up, they might as well be looking at us. and if they call me a slut, you know it might be worth it for once.

my little lesbianism au... i love it because it conjures up images of like the neighborhood pools they'd hop the fence into, them attached by their pinkies floating side by side on tacky pool floats they got prior raiding walmart with full intent to trespass bc they knew someone was on vacation or whatever. i know i told you i never really had a reason for cora's general sense of discontent until i thought of this and everything kind of clicked. very clear on sienna being all she could ever need but hadn't considered it in the romantic sense and i couldn't unthink of it that way ever since. in terms again of the greater friend group given how a few of the guys treat mollie it's like ok... perhaps not the biggest leap to think there's some misogyny there, surely some criticism from the skeevier guys that would feel like yknow the hot girls in the friend group are obliged to them somehow (and of course being romantically involved w some of them already as well). so i like this idea that they have this sensual secret thing going on and just kind of weighing the pros and cons of being like fuck it lets abandon this charade

[ryderlynnofficial]

and... action!

DATE & TIME: May 2024 LOCATION: Hollywood Boulevard, Venice Beach  SUMMARY: Ryder and Kitty are on set to film the music video for Ryder's new single, Partners in Crime. WARNINGS: None  TAGS: @kittywildeofficial

Kitty  This outfit was absolutely ridiculous. The leather stars that had been looped together in some chainmail contraption could barely qualify as trousers, but when paired with the matching black corset top, she couldn’t deny she looked good. Kitty squinted as she stepped out of the trailer, the hot LA sun beating down on her, and she prayed to God she wouldn’t sweat and smudge her makeup. Yeah, maybe a music video for Ryder Lynn wasn’t the height of prestige, but she still didn’t want to look like a drowned rat, especially in front of him. She was ushered through set towards where the red convertible sat, Ryder in the front seat, and she walked over to stand next to the driver’s door, her hands on her hips. “Was the outfit your idea?” She asked, an eyebrow raised. Ryder  Ryder had been skeptical when his management team suggested putting Kitty in his new music video, trying to make the most of the publicity buzz surrounding the kiss at the party. All it had taken was one camera phone for their locked lips to be the talk of the internet and the remaining print media outlets which hadn’t been driven to extinction yet. His skepticism turned to outright shock when she accepted the job offer. He had been under the impression that she had better things to do and none of them involved him. 

Ryder had been waiting in the car for Kitty to be done with hair and make up, absentmindedly drumming a beat on the steering wheel with his hands. He turned as he heard Kitty’s voice next to him, his eyes instinctively widening as he took in the sight of her. “No it wasn’t but clearly I need to give that person a raise. You look hot as fuck,” He commented, trying his best to keep his eyes locked on hers. It was a tricky task given her (incredible) boobs were the same level as his head. Kitty  Kitty taking this job had been a surprise to her team. Although it was obvious why Ryder’s people had wanted her for this video, this wasn’t the kind of high profile shoot that she’d gotten used to over her years in the industry. She didn’t really have a good reason for them as to why she’d accepted, having gone with some half-assed ‘I want to push my boundaries creatively’ that none of them bought (it was a music video where she looked sexy in the back of a car - a dime a dozen job for her). 

The truth, though she’d never admit it, lay somewhere in the fluttering feeling in her gut as she watched Ryder work hard to look absolutely everywhere except her chest, and she smirked, moving her hands to rest on the car and leaning forward against it. She knew this action pushed them further into his line of sight, but she kept her eyes upwards, nonchalantly looking at the sectioned-off street around them, bustling with the activity of a music video shoot. “I’m aware.” Was all she said. “God, you guys sectioned off half of Hollywood Boulevard for this shit.” She commented. “You must think this record has some promise.” Ryder Ryder had been planning something entirely different for this video but the plans had been abruptly changed when the pictures of he and Kitty had come out. His team had gone into planning mode, rewriting the video to capitalise on the attention that people were now paying him. He’d rather have gotten the attention on merit from his music, but he knew that fame was fickle and he had to pick and choose which battles were most important. Besides, getting to spend a day in close proximity to Kitty was hardly a chore. 

“I like to think all of my songs have promise,” Ryder replied nonchalantly, still trying his best to not stare at her chest. He didn’t want her to think that he just liked her for her body, there were plenty of guys that she could go to for that. He liked her for the way she challenged him, and the insults they traded back and forth whilst pretending there wasn’t a strong chemistry underlying it all. Not that the boobs hurt either. “You must have thought it had promise too, since you agreed to do it. I can’t imagine you agreeing to a dud project,” He added, raising an eyebrow at her in question. Kitty  Kitty shrugged a shoulder. She had listened to the song, in a meeting with her team, and then a few times in the car on the way home afterwards. She hated to admit that it was good, definitely good enough to warrant her tapping her foot along to the beat. Of course it went without saying that Ryder couldn’t know that. “You’re right, I wouldn’t.” She commented, moving back, impressed that he hadn’t fallen prey to her cleavage trap. “It’s not a bad song, Lynn, and you’re damn lucky the music video’s gonna kill as welll. 

The director came to them now, some scrawny guy with a bad goatee, explaining to them the general vibes of the shoot, but it seemed that Kitty and Ryder had a decent amount of creative control over what they did in the car. Before she knew it, she was stood in the backseat of the car behind Ryder as they sped down Hollywood Boulevard for some behind shots, Kitty’s hair tossed in the wind, moving to the music that played just loudly enough for them to hear it. "God, I hope you’re a good driver.” She called out to Ryder as she danced, raising her arms above her head. “I’m not dying here doing this video with you.” Ryder  Ryder was very surprised when she called his song “not bad”. That was incredibly high praise from her, and said to his face too. He was about to reply with a quip about how he was going to use that as a quote on the album cover, like how books did, when the director appeared next to them instead. Ever the professional, he swallowed the comment and made a mental note to try and remember it for later. 

They were soon on the move since apparently the agenda for the day wasn’t just for him to sit and talk to Kitty more. He was a good driver, usually. But normally he didn’t have Kitty Wilde dancing in his back seat, looking unbelievable in her black leather outfit. The LA sunlight seemed to be bouncing off her, making her even more of a vision than she usually was. He was captivated, and it made it hard to pay attention to the road. He was just glad it’d been cleared of people so he could avoid any manslaughter convictions for when ran off the road, his only defense that Kitty had looked too good to take his eyes off of. “Don’t worry about me, I got you,” He called back, forcing his gaze back to the stretch of concrete in front of him. “I’m a great driver. Formula 1 tried to sign me up but I said no. I didn’t want to show them all up,” He added jokingly. Kitty  Despite her attempt at a sultry, careless appearance, Kitty’s legs were trembling. Ryder wasn’t going so fast, but she was still standing up in a moving car with absolutely nothing holding her down. The director had guaranteed that it was safe, especially given that the road was clear of cars and there were first responders on-set, not to mention the thousand legal threats her team had made in regards to her safety, but it still made her anxious. She rolled her eyes at Ryder’s words, glad that the cameras were behind them so she could relax and talk to him a bit and get her mind off what she was doing. Plus, something about the way he said ‘I got you’ made her believe him. 

“Yeah, you comparing your driving to Formula 1 doesn’t help. Those cars go stupid fast.” She replied, shaking her hair out in the wind. The car bumped against something and she sharply sucked in her breath, leaning forward momentarily to grab Ryder’s seat. “Jesus Christ.” She muttered, her brain quickly working overtime to arch her back and hopefully make this shot something they could use, despite her blunder. Still gripping the seat, she took a few deep breaths to calm herself, trying to focus on something, anything, to get her mind off the fear and get her standing upright again. 

Ryder’s song restarted from where it was playing on a loop on the car radio, and she hummed along a little, the tune starting to catch on, before her mouth started moving of its own accord. “And if the heat comes close enough to burn…” Her voice was soft as she sang along. “Then we’ll play with fire 'cause…” She slowly pushed herself up, using the momentum to raise her arms again in time to sing the chorus a little bit louder. “You’ll never takes us alive…” Ryder  Ryder couldn't help but stare at Kitty through the rear view mirror as she sang along to his song. His song that she apparently knew the words to, which was just surreal. Part of him had expected her to just show up and look hot, he didn't expect her to actually put effort in or learn the lyrics. According to her, she didn't even like him so he hadn't thought she'd consider the video worth her time. 

"We swore that death will do us part," Ryder sang, his eyes briefly flickering to the road before they were back on Kitty again. "They'll call our crimes a work of art." He hadn't written the song with the blonde in mind, but a work of art was certainly a fitting description for her. He tried to picture the two of them on the run, a modern day Bonnie and Clyde. They'd be a hot criminal duo, that was for sure. 

"Ryder, eyes on the road please, you're not supposed to ogle Kitty the entire video," Ryder heard the director call over the megaphone. He reluctantly pulled his eyes back to the road ahead of them, already fighting the urge to glance back at the rearview mirror again. Kitty Eyes closed, Kitty threw her head back, confidence starting to settle in her stomach as she continued to sing."You'll never takes us alive..." She knew she wasn't much of a singer. Her talents had always been relatively limited to her looks and her wit, and part of her wondered if she should maybe feel self-conscious singing in front of Ryder, especially since it was his song. As much as she hated to admit it, he had a voice and a half on him. 

But as she lowered her head, her eyes opened and locked onto his in the rearview mirror. Her instinct was to laugh at how he was staring at her with a look on his face that could only be described as captivated, and make some teasing comment. However, she found herself keeping her eyes on his, letting herself sway her hips and toss her hair over her shoulders as she continued to sing, her eyes trained on him, all humour lost from her face as she found herself as captivated by him as he seemed to be by her. "We'll live like spoiled royalty, lovers and partners, partners in crime..." 

A voice on a megaphone was the only thing that could've possibly broken the spell she was under, and she jumped slightly, letting out a chuckle at the director's words. She brought a hand down to grip onto Ryder's headrest for a moment, leaning down towards him with her back and knees perfectly straight, knowing that it was giving an eyeful to the camera. "Yeah, Lynn, stop ogling me." She murmured into his ear, before straightening herself up again, almost disappointed to not see his eyes in the mirror anymore. Ryder Ryder wasn't embarrassed by the call out. Recently he had made no effort to hide the fact that he was into her. He'd always found her attractive but that night at the party where she kissed him had kicked it into another level. He didn't think it was a lie to say it had been the best kiss of his life, and it'd only been fleeting. He could only imagine what getting to kiss her properly, away from prying eyes, would feel like. 

Ryder smiled to himself as he felt her lips next to his ear when she spoke. Stop looking so damn sexy then. That's what he would have replied back to her if he got the chance. But not only did she move out of earshot as she straightened back up, but he didn't want their business to end up on the internet again. He had no doubt that the sound technician monitoring the mic feed wasn't paid enough to stop them leaking the audio. He wanted something real with her, and ending up on TMZ again over such a comment wasn't the way to go about that. He'd just tell her later when they were away from everyone else. So instead of saying anything, he found her eyes in the rearview mirror again before throwing a wink in her direction along with a flash of his most charming smile. 

The rest of the car section of the shoot passed in a blur. They must have run through the song dozens of times, capturing tons of footage from every possible angle. They'd also made their way to Venice Beach with the hope of capturing the final shots as the sun set. "Ryder, Kitty, positions please." The director called, indicating for them to move closer to each other. The shot was supposed to be two of them getting cosy as they celebrated pulling off their crime spree. "And try to look like you like each other." 

"You're going to have to put your acting to the test there," Ryder teased under his breath as he moved closer to Kitty, their foreheads almost touching. He held eye contact with her, for the sake of the shot of course, a smirk playing on his lips. Kitty Getting Ryder's eyes back on hers did more than calm her again, save for the butterflies, and the rest of the car section of the shoot passed almost upsettingly quickly. Over the couple of hours that Ryder drove up and down Sunset Boulevard she had developed a fondness for the wind in her hair and Ryder's eyes watching her in the rear view mirror. Even for the shots where she'd had to hang off the back of the car, she'd felt nothing but adrenaline where she would've usually felt fear. There was something about Ryder that calmed her. Or maybe it was that she liked showing off for him. She liked the idea that he was watching her. 

The last part of the shoot brought them to Venice Beach. Not Kitty's favourite place, but at least they'd put some wooden flooring down on top of the sand; the one stipulation in Kitty's contract. She'd risk falling out of a car, but this video wasn't worth getting sandy feet. Production had done a great job timing this, because the sunset was exquisite, but it meant they had to work quickly. At the director's words, Kitty rolled her eyes, before turning towards Ryder. She had her signature unimpressed look on her face, lips pursed and eyebrow raised. She stepped closer to him, eyes flicking up to meet his, determined to keep the look on her face as long as possible. 

"Well, Lord knows you won't have to act at all." She teased him right back in a whispered breath, just as the director shouted 'action'. Immediately, her lips parted, and her eyes flickered between Ryder's lips and his eyes as she kept close to him. She moved one hand to rest on his chest as she tilted her head back, moving herself as close to him as she could without actually touching lips. She knew she had plausible deniability that this was acting but if she were being totally honest with herself, this came so naturally. What she'd been doing before had been acting. Ryder Ryder heard the director call out action and it was like his tunnel vision just switched on. He could see Kitty but everything else was blurry or out of focus. He had her in his space, lips practically touching as they stared at each other. They were so close that he could even feel her breath on his face. One small movement from either of them and their lips would be touching. God, did his manager want to kill him? He wasn't sure that he was even going to survive this shoot. 

He wrapped an arm around her waist, gently pulling her even closer so that their bodies were touching. Time seemed to slow down, the only movement he was registering was the rise and fall of their chests as he continued to hold Kitty's gaze. He searched her eyes for any kind of sign that she was feeling the tension between them as much as he was. It was electric, at least from his perspective. Ryder couldn't help but glance down at her lips, to really sell the shot for the cameras of course, before dragging his gaze back up her eyes. Her beautiful blue eyes that he would definitely be thinking about non-stop now that he'd seen them up close like this. Kitty Kitty couldn’t help the sharp exhalation that escaped her lips as Ryder pulled her closer, feeling her breathing pick up its pace ever so slightly. She brought one hand up to run up his forearm, her fingers tightening as they moved to his bicep. For the next two minutes, the entire rest of the world vanished. She forgot about the film crew, she forgot about the sand, she forgot about the online masses and their inevitable opinions on this video. 

All she saw was Ryder, looking down at her with an expression that could only be described as pure desire. Maybe even adoration. For a moment, she lost herself in it, allowing herself to hope for a second that he could feel that way about her, maybe that he even did feel that way about her. Moving on autopilot, she looked down at his lips for a moment, before her eyes moved up to meet his again, and she felt the magnetic pull to kiss him. Their lips only millimetres away, she leaned up slightly, brushing her lips against his, only a warm-up to the kiss she so desperately craved. 

“Okay, cut!” 

It was the director’s voice that broke her trance, and she jumped slightly at it, mouth agape as the world suddenly snapped back into focus. She took a step back from Ryder immediately as if he’d burned her, tossing her hair behind her shoulder and trying to appear nonchalant. “Great job, Kitty, nice instinct with the lips touching thing, it really worked.” The director commented, and Kitty hoped that nobody could see her cheeks growing hot at the comment. God, screw that hoping. Hoping for stuff like that was for idiots who didn’t know better. Taking a deep breath, she turned back to look at Ryder, still not totally able to meet his eyes like she had before. “God, you could win a damn Oscar with that performance.” Was all she came up with, and she wanted to cringe at how lame it sounded. Ryder Kitty actually pressing her lips against his threw him entirely. He hadn't been expecting it in the slightest. He figured it was a 'look but don't touch' kind of deal, though they hadn't exactly discussed it in detail. The shot had been described as them standing and gazing into each other's eyes, there was nothing in the discussions that had indicated that she would actually press her lips against his, no matter how lightly. 

As Kitty stepped away from him, it took all of Ryder's willpower not to grab her. He wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless. The entire day had done nothing but continue to amp up the tension between them and he wanted her more than ever. He was still dazed as he heard the director talking, looking at the floor and running a hand through his hair as he tried to catch his breath. He was definitely feeling a bit hot under the collar. "Huh?" Ryder asked as he heard Kitty's comment, his brain needing a moment to catch up. It wasn't like he hadn't heard her, it was just that his brain had got stuck on replaying what had just happened and was acting on a delay. "I think the Oscar would actually go to you," He laughed lightly. "I don't think I was acting at all, you're the one who knocked it out the park. Maybe you're in the wrong career."

Kitty Kitty's eyes snapped back to Ryder's as he asserted that he hadn't been acting, and that stupid little hope flickered in her chest again. It was so silly, and she knew it would never amount to anything. If, even by some miracle, he could ever feel anything for her beyond just attraction, she'd have to quash it immediately. Yeah, it was a cliché, a blonde bombshell with commitment issues and an allergy to feelings, but it was a line she couldn't cross. Which made it so much worse that she had let her lips touch his.Way to seem uninvolved and unbothered. 

So she just smirked, trying to save face. "You're probably right." She asserted, putting her hands on her hips. She watched him for a moment, feeling like she was swimming in his warm brown eyes, and suddenly wanting nothing more than to run into his arms, or run in the opposite direction. Luckily, she stayed put, tucking some strands of hair behind her ear. "Sorry about the sneak attack with the lips thing. I figured a move like that will make this song go #1 based on buzz alone." She shrugged. "Just trying to help." Ryder Ryder was pleased when Kitty finally made eye contact with him again after initially avoiding looking directly at him. "I like to think that the song can go to #1 on its musical merit but sure, I guess this won't hurt its chances," He said. She wasn't wrong, there was no way that this video wouldn't boost the streaming figures. "But thanks for caring, Wilde. Here I was thinking you didn't like me, I didn't think you'd be trying to boost my sales numbers for me," He teased. 

"And if I can help you out in return, I'd be happy to," He continued. "For example if you do want to change careers to acting and you want some more practice, you've got my number. Feel free to use it." He flashed a smile at her, more than happy to encourage her acting career if it involved her putting her lips on his again. Ideally the next time (should there be a next time) it happened, he hoped that they'd be in private somewhere and not in front of a camera or surrounded by people at a party. Kitty Kitty wrinkled her nose, theatrically shaking her head. “I wouldn’t say I care. More like I don’t want to be connected to a flop project. Nothing I’ve done has ever flopped, and I’m not having a music video be the thing that does.” It was partially true. There had been some ad campaigns early in her career that had been questionable at best, but it was true that she didn’t align herself with dud or low-profile projects. It was why her team had been so confused about her choice to do this video. 

At his suggestion that she ‘practice her acting’, the latest in his series of thinly veiled attempts at flirting, she felt something inside her flutter, but she ignored it, rolling her eyes. “Well that’s an offer with zero ulterior motive if I’ve ever heard one.” She let a makeup assistant run on set to quickly touch up her powder, before getting back in place in front of him as they prepared to roll again. “I’d take you up, but I think the cops would be called to your house, I told my therapist to lock me up if I were caught making out with Ryder Lynn again.” She teased. As the director called ‘action!’, she reached up to put her hands on his shoulders, her words ringing false in her own head because there it was again; that desire to lean up and kiss him. She took a deep breath, pushing the thought to the crevice of her mind. It didn’t serve her in any professional capacity, and it scared the shit out of her. It would be dealt with another time.

[forwhatdairy]

Хочу, чтобы весна в этом году звучала так

[hotwheelings]

[stonenuts]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Hot Wheels Premium Boulevard Porsche 911 Turbo 930 Nissan Silva S15 Nismo Proto.

[wolf-innsheepsclothing]

On The Hunt (One-Shot)

(Set immediately after [x])

Wolf goes after the Inn's mysterious vandal.

Things were surprisingly peaceful that afternoon. But he didn't feel he could rest. Every time his mind started to drift, he remembered the feel of the steering wheel jerking in his hands, and sat bolt upright. But for this moment, at least, all seemed quiet.

Wolf's head whipped around at the sound of shattering glass.

In an instant he thundered his way along the hall way and into the sunroom. He stared at the scene in front of him. Shattered glass scattered across the floor like a ghostly halo dancing around the skull on the floor. His eyes widened, heart beginning to thud, as Snow came running into the room behind him.

For a fraction of a second, Wolf stared at her.

Then he sprang back to life.

"Stay with her!" He yelled at the people behind her in the doorway. Gem was around. Ashitaka was around. He could smell them. He might not like them, but he doubted either would let anything happen to Snow. "Don't let anyone in!"

Wolf sprang to the door and wrenched it open, disappearing into the garden. He paused, sniffing the air intently, to no avail, before he caught sight of a movement down one of the garden paths. His feet churned the gravel as he sprinted after, ready to follow the trail.

His eyes flashed grey as the wolf longed to be freed, to spring forward and tear into whoever had dared throw a brick at his home, but Wolfgang remained. In front of him the side gate swung back and forth on its hinges. Wolf lunged through it, then skidded to a halt as he emerged onto the little path that cut into Main Street Park. Turning his head this way and that, Wolf searched for anything, then spotted a figure disappearing in a hurry around some hedges, making for the other side of the path.

In an instant, he was off after them, ignoring people's cries as he hurtled in the straightest route he could towards that side of the park, eyes fixed firmly on the outline of a person, who glanced over their shoulder and then disappeared into a row of trees and bushes.

But he wasn't going to be so easily dissuaded, not with his blood singing in his veins. Instead, he tried to listen, for the tell-tale huffing and puffing of breath. Yes, there, footsteps crashing through the undergrowth, and he was after them. Wolf growled to himself, face fixed into an exhilerated grimace. There was a loud thud and some scrabbling, and Wolf saw the fences at the back of the Main Street shoppes loom into view out of the undergrowth. He hurdled it with ease, then stopped, head turning again this way and that.

"Hey!" Someone yelped out on the street.

Wolf set off in hot pursuit, nearly knocking someone else over as he came streaking out from the alleyway next to Hatters tea shoppe. Where? Where? If only he'd been able to get a proper scent before the person fled he'd have been able to- THERE.

Someone in a dark coat ran across the road suddenly, making for Ever After Boulevard. Wolf bolted too, narrowly avoiding a cyclist. His boots ground against the pavement as he looked along the road, rounding the corner to find...

Nothing. Where the hell had they gone? He turned again, lingering. He tried to sniff the air, as people milled about on Main Street. There was just confusion, too many people, too much noise, too many smells.

A clatter came from the alley behind the shoppes.

Wolf's head snapped round.

A panicked gasp. Footsteps running.

He threw himself into the alleyway. "Stop!" He bellowed, as he saw the figure fleeing from him hove into view. Dark hair, much smaller than him, he knew with total confidence he would be able to tackle the stranger, as he came closer and closer.

Wolf reached out his arm, grasping at the figure, a man now, he was sure. His hand closed around an arm, which let out a panicked yelp.

It happened fast. One second he was trying to catch sight of this person, this attacker who had hounded them, who wanted to hurt Snow, his only family - then smoke. Burning, seething smoke, exploding everywhere, filling his every sense, choking his lungs. Wolf spluttered, eyes filling with water as the acrid smoke stung them. "NO!" He howled in rage, hearing footsteps again as he stumbled backwards.

He staggered against the wall of the back of the shoppe, coughing heavily. Wolf let out a loud string of enraged swears in German as the smoke began to clear.

In his hand, he clutched a bracelet. Metal, by the feel of it, with strange markings carved into it. He wanted to crush it in his hand but stopped himself. For metal it was curiously empty... no smell at all, with strange smoke like patterns all around it on the outside. He stowed it into his pocket. It was a clue, at least, a thread to pull.

Eyes still watering, Wolf gazed at the floor, all of that adrenalin turning to rage. Rage at himself, rage at this stranger, rage at ... now what was that? Glass, scattered around the floor, with a black mark around it... He crouched, running his fingers over the ground. Yes. Smoke. His eyes roamed the floor until he spotted, there, by the bin. A neck of a bottle, cork stopper still trapped in it. He set it into his pocket too. This opened as many questions as it answered.

With a face like thunder, he scoured the rest of the alleyway but found nothing more, before he began his trudge homewards.

[hotwheels-bandung]

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[whileiamdying]

The Green Automobile

If I had a Green Automobile           I’d go find my old companion           in his house on the Western ocean.                     Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!

I’d honk my horn at his manly gate,           inside his wife and three           children sprawl naked                     on the living room floor.

He’d come running out           to my car full of heroic beer           and jump screaming at the wheel                     for he is the greater driver.

We’d pilgrimage to the highest mount           of our earlier Rocky Mountain visions           laughing in each other’s arms,                     delight surpassing the highest Rockies,

and after old agony, drunk with new years,           bounding toward the snowy horizon           blasting the dashboard with original bop                     hot rod on the mountain

we’d batter up the cloudy highway           where angels of anxiety           careen through the trees                     and scream out of the engine.

We’d burn all night on the jackpine peak           seen from Denver in the summer dark,           forestlike unnatural radiance                     illuminating the mountaintop:

childhood youthtime age & eternity           would open like sweet trees           in the nights of another spring                     and dumbfound us with love,

for we can see together           the beauty of souls           hidden like diamonds                     in the clock of the world,

like Chinese magicians can           confound the immortals           with our intellectuality                     hidden in the mist,

In the Green Automobile           which I have invented           imagined and visioned                     on the roads of the world

more real than the engine           on a track in the desert           purer than Greyhound and                     swifter than physical jetplane.

Denver! Denver! we’ll return           roaring across the City & County Building lawn           which catches the pure emerald flame                     streaming in the wake of our auto.

This time we’ll buy up the city!           I cashed a great check in my skull bank           to found a miraculous college of the body                     up on the bus terminal roof.

But first we’ll drive the stations of downtown,           poolhall flophouse jazz joint jail           whorehouse down Folsom                     to the darkest alleys of Larimer

paying respects to Denver’s father           lost on the railroad tracks,           stupor of wine and silence                     hallowing the slum of his decades,

salute him and his saintly suitcase           of dark muscatel, drink           and smash the sweet bottles                     on Diesels in allegiance.

Then we go driving drunk on boulevards           where armies march and still parade           staggering under the invisible                     banner of Reality—

hurtling through the street           in the auto of our fate           we share an archangelic cigarette                     and tell each other’s fortunes:

fames of supernatural illumination,           bleak rainy gaps of time,           great art learned in desolation                     and we beat apart after six decades …

and on an asphalt crossroad,           deal with each other in princely           gentleness once more, recalling                     famous dead talks of other cities.

The windshield’s full of tears,           rain wets our naked breasts,           we kneel together in the shade                     amid the traffic of night in paradise

“and now renew the solitary vow           we made each other take           in Texas, once:                     I can’t inscribe here… .

How many Saturday nights will be           made drunken by this legend?           How will young Denver come to mourn                     her forgotten sexual angel?

How many boys will strike the black piano           in imitation of the excess of a native saint?           Or girls fall wanton under his spectre in the high                     schools of melancholy night?

While all the time in Eternity           in the wan light of this poem’s radio           we’ll sit behind forgotten shades                     hearkening the lost jazz of all Saturdays.

Neal, we’ll be real heroes now           in a war between our cocks and time:           let’s be the angels of the world’s desire                     and take the world to bed with us before we die.

Sleeping alone, or with companion,           girl or fairy sheep or dream,           I’ll fail of lacklove, you, satiety:                     all men fall, our fathers fell before,

but resurrecting that lost flesh           is but a moment’s work of mind:           an ageless monument to love                     in the imagination:

Memorial built out of our own bodies           consumed by the invisible poem—           We’ll shudder in Denver and endure                     though blood and wrinkles blind our eyes.

So this Green Automobile:           I give you in flight           a present, a present                     from my imagination.

We will go riding           over the Rockies,           we’ll go on riding                     all night long until dawn,

then back to your railroad, the SP           your house and your children           and broken leg destiny                     you’ll ride down the plains

in the morning: and back           to my visions, my office           and eastern apartment                     I’ll return to New York.

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#Repost @diecastpocketride with @let.repost • • • • • • Day #130 Mustang week Hot Wheels 1992 Ford Mustang #hot #wheels #hotwheels #boulevard #1992 #ford #mustang #pocketride #diecast #toycar #toy #64 #164 #164scale #164diecast #mik #ikozosseg #phonephoto #nofilter #phonephotography #oneplus #nord2 https://www.instagram.com/p/CikmNglucOU/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

Maybe before cats and dogs started their bitter rivalry, there was Snake vs Mongoose. I’m not talking about Rikki-Tikki-Tavi, I mean two of the best known drag racers ever to lay it all on the starting line: Don Prudhomme and Tom McEwen. Back before corporate sponsorship made some racers professionals, drag racers were innovators and possibly daredevils who no doubt, did it for love and a heaping dose of quarter mile glory. Why else would Snake and Mongoose travel the country for “grudge matches” that paid not much more than gas and beer money? It wasn’t until McEwen convinced Mattel (the first non-automotive drag racing sponsor) that “Wildlife Racing” and this “bitter” rivalry (actually between friends) would sell scores of Hot Wheels that drag racing became both lucrative and a common household discussion.

But that’s just part of the story!  Head down to the Peterson Automotive Museum for their NHRA: Sixty Years of Thunder where Don “The Snake” Prudhomme will be joined by Tom “The Mongoose” McEwen, Roland Leong (Hawaiian funny car fame), “TV” Tommy Ivo (Actor and racer of some nasty multi-engined hot rods), Carroll Shelby (needs no intro!) and Ed Pink (engine builder for Snake and just about every winning racer back then). A once in a lifetime experience for $150 on Wednesday, Nov. 10, 2010.

Details of who, what, where below are courtesy of the Petersen Automotive Museum:

(LOS ANGELES, October 1, 2010) Petersen Automotive Museum is celebrating the opening of the exciting new exhibit, NHRA: Sixty Years of Thunder by paying tribute to one of the sport’s most iconic figures – Don “The Snake” Prudhomme – during their annual Tribute Night on Wednesday, Nov. 10, 2010.

Match Race Madness Panel Discussion

The day will begin with the 2 p.m. panel discussion, Match Race Madness, featuring drag racing’s greatest rivalry: Snake vs. Mongoose. Prudhomme will be joined by arch-rival Tom “The Mongoose” McEwen to tell the tales of their days of traveling the United States from race track to race track, their much-publicized grudge matches, the business partnership they formed called, “Wildlife Racing,” and their pioneering work in non-automotive sponsorship with Mattel’s Hot Wheels.

An Evening with Don “The Snake” Prudhomme

At 5:30 p.m., An Evening with Don “The Snake” Prudhomme will begin. A cocktail hour with Prudhomme, McEwen, and honored guests Roland Leong, Tommy Ivo, Carroll Shelby, Ed Pink and many others will be followed by a fabulous dinner buffet. Special guest Dave McClelland, the Voice of the NHRA and longtime friend of Don Prudhomme, will be the Master of Ceremonies. The evening will continue with a short film featuring The Snake’s history and several other drag racing icons will share their stories of the legend. A live auction of amazing racing memorabilia will follow with proceeds going to the Petersen’s educational programs. Guests will also be able to preview the items that will be in the Bonham’s and Butterfield’s Motorcycles and Memorabilia auction on Saturday, Nov. 13.

NHRA: Sixty Years of Thunder

If that’s not enough, guests will also be the first to see Petersen Automotive Museum’s newest exhibit, NHRA: Sixty Years of Thunder. This exciting new exhibit will cover the history of the National Hot Rod Association, from its early creation as a way to get street racing off of the public highways and on to sanctioned drag strips, through six decades of nitro, tire smoke and thunder. Guests will have an experience rich with historic photography, exciting videos, interactive displays and of course, race cars with the combined power output of 50,000 horses! This exhibit opens at the gala and runs through May 29, 2011.

Tickets

Tickets for An Evening With Don “The Snake” Prudhomme are $125 each. Tickets for the Match Race Madness panel discussion are $50 each. A combined ticket for both events is $150, a $25 savings. Special pricing is available for certain levels of Petersen Automotive Museum Membership. For more information call (323) 964-6325, or to buy your tickets on-line, go to www.Peterson.org. Event proceeds support the Petersen Automotive Museum’s educational and cultural mission.

Honoree: Don “The Snake” Prudhomme

In the early days of his drag racing career, Don Prudhomme worked as a crew member for drag racing icon “T.V.” Tommy Ivo. In 1962, Prudhomme achieved his first Top Fuel win at the Smoker’s March Meet in Bakersfield, California. From 1962 through 1964, Don teamed up with Tom Greer and legendary engine builder Keith Black, and built the famous Greer, Black & Prudhomme Top Fueler (on display in NHRA: 60 Years of Thunder) which won nearly every west coast event. Prudhomme went on to drive Roland Leong’s “Hawaiian” Top Fuel dragster, and won his first NHRA race, the 1965 Winternationals in Pomona, California. He then switched to Funny Cars in the 1970s and won four straight NHRA Funny Car World Championships between 1975 and 1978 and had seven NHRA U.S. Nationals wins. He was the first Funny Car driver to go 5 seconds in the quarter mile and the first to top 250 mph.

Don Prudhomme’s quick reaction times earned him the nickname, “The Snake.” He teamed up with his friend and rival, Tom “The Mongoose” McEwen to form the team “Wildlife Racing,” and they were hired by track owners to race each other in grudge matches around the country. But the real money came when they were sponsored by Mattel’s “Hot Wheels,” the first non-automotive sponsor in NHRA history.

The Snake last raced on his “Final Strike Tour” in 1994, but stayed active in other areas of the sport. Until his retirement earlier this year, Don “The Snake” Prudhomme was a car owner running a Top Fuel Dragster Team and two Funny Car teams. Prudhomme has 49 career wins as a driver, and 59 career wins as an owner.

National Hot Rod Association

Nestled in the quiet community of Glendora, Calif., just minutes east of downtown Los Angeles, is the world’s largest and loudest auto racing organization, the National Hot Rod Association (NHRA). Since it was founded by Wally Parks in 1951, NHRA has been dedicated to safety while providing millions of racing fans with The Extreme Motorsport: the fastest and most spectacular form of entertainment on wheels. With 80,000 members and more than 35,000 licensed competitors, NHRA is a thriving leader in the world of motorsports. Parks initially started NHRA as a means of getting hot rodders off the streets and on to legal drag strips. Since those early days, NHRA has evolved into the largest promoter of professional drag racing in the world. Today, with more than 300 dedicated employees, NHRA offers drag racing opportunities for hot rod enthusiasts of all levels, from kids ages 8-17 in the NHRA Jr. Drag Racing League all the way up to the top of the Professional ranks with the organization’s NHRA Full Throttle Drag Racing Series.

NHRA is moving just as fast in popularity with auto racing fans. Second to only NASCAR in terms of attendance, fan appeal, and sponsorship commitment, NHRA is moving quickly into mainstream America.

NHRA is all about diversity. With more than 20 categories of competition, including Top Fuel, Funny Car, Pro Stock, and Pro Stock Motorcycle at the Professional level, to a multicultural array of high-octane personalities it calls world champions; NHRA thrives on unique competitors accomplishing unique achievements. For example, in 2008, Hispanic racer Cruz Pedregon won the NHRA Funny Car world championship, and Ashley Force Hood and Melanie Troxel became the first female winners in the Funny Car class.

Participation on and off the track has made the NHRA Full Throttle Drag Racing Series one of the most popular forms of racing, reaching thousands of fans, members, and sponsors a quarter-mile at a time.

Petersen Automotive Museum

The Petersen Automotive Museum Foundation is a non-profit 501(c)(3) charity. The Museum is located at 6060 Wilshire Boulevard (at Fairfax) in Los Angeles. Admission prices are $10 for general admission adults, $5 for seniors and students with ID, and $3 for children ages 5 to 12. Museum members and children under five are admitted free. Covered parking is available for $2 per half hour with an $8 maximum for Museum visitors. Museum hours are Tuesday through Sunday from 10am to 6pm. For general Museum information, call 323/930-CARS or visit the Museum’s Web site at: www.Peterson.org.