#gala dress store
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floraonmadison · 1 month ago
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Black Label by Anne Barge Collection Trunk Show September 2024
Flora on Madison invites you to the Event Black Label by Anne Barge Collection Trunk Show from Sept 27 to October 07, 2024. This exclusive event offers a rare opportunity to explore Anne Barge's luxurious, sophisticated gowns, perfect for formal events, weddings, and galas. Known for their timeless elegance and modern style, the collection embodies couture craftsmanship. Visit Flora on Madison, a luxury eveningwear boutique at 766 Madison Avenue, 66th Street, New York, for a one-on-one consultation. Book now by appointment only: Phone: 212-242-6160, +1 917 705 0527.
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costumedump · 8 months ago
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Swarovski Dazzles On The Red Carpet Diorama
Met Gala Ensembles
Swarovski On Fifth
NYC
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ggidolsmuts · 4 days ago
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F***ably Late - Kim Minju
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"We've arrived, Miss Kim."
"Oh? Thank you." But she makes no move to get out, and you watch her seethe quietly.
"Is something the matter Miss Kim?"
"Ah no, it's not your fault, but I wanted to be fashionably late." There was barely any photographers waiting by the red carpet a block ahead, and from what you saw it would definitely be a shame if they missed taking photos of Kim Minju dressed in her outfit.
"My apologies, we have arrived on time it seems." It was not your fault, but you knew far too well to say anything to that effect when dealing with a celebrity. "Should I take you back home and come back later?"
"No, I should've told you the gala was at a later time." At least she's taking some responsibility for her own predicament. "Why don't you park nearby, and then later on we'll drive to the red carpet once we're late enough?"
"Of course." Dutifully you drove the limo down a few block and put it in park. You keep the AC running, and it whirrs loudly over the silence in the limo. "Would you like a drink, Miss Kim?"
"Sure why not," she sighs, bored. You press a button and a little panel slides away to reveal a mini-fridge.
"Please help yourself." Minju does so, picking out a can of flavored seltzer and cracking it open. She taps you on a shoulder with another. "Ah no thank you, those are not for the drivers."
"It's fine, I won't tell on you, just charge two cans to my bill."
"No extra charge, they are complementary."
"Even better, take it then." You can't come up with another excuse before Minju insists it on you.
"Thank you Miss Kim."
"Minju."
"Yes Miss Minju." She clicks her tongue in annoyance but says nothing. The two of you drink in silence as time passes.
"Do you have alcohol?"
"I'm afraid we don't."
"Can you get me some?" You quickly look on your phone for a nearby convenience store.
"There's a GS25 about 5 minutes away, I can buy some there." Minju passes you a credit card.
"Do it, just a can of beer, get one for yourself."
"I'm driving, I'm not allowed to drink."
"Fine, get whatever you want for yourself." You quickly exit the limo and hurry to the store to meet Minju's demands. Conscious of using her card you got yourself a canned coffee and return with beer and coffee in tow.
"Here you are Miss Minju."
"Minju. Come join me."
"I really shouldn't—"
"Do you know how stupid we look, sitting apart while both drinking? Get in here." Minju waves you in and you reluctantly acquiesce. "What? You only got a coffee? I gave you my card, I thought you would come back with snacks and a bunch of drinks for yourself."
"Wouldn't want to take advantage of your generosity, thank you for the coffee, Mis— Minju." She smirks as you use her name for once.
"You look too young to be a chauffeur, how long have you been driving?" Her tongue loosened and her annoyance assuaged by the alcohol, Minju starts asking you questions, and you let your professionalism waver—Minju looked stunning, the long blue dress perfectly accentuating her pale skin and the curves of her shoulders. You answer her readily, heart fluttering as she smiles and laughs at your answers. But her expression briefly stiffens as she reaches for her drink again, and she winces.
"Are you okay?"
"Yes, stiff shoulder, must have slept on it or something last night." She rubs and rotates it gingerly.
"I can try massaging it, if that helps?"
"You can? Sure? If you want?" You sit down next to Minju, and she turns away from you. "Right shoulder, mm, bit higher, yeah." You're slowly kneading between her neck and shoulder, feeling her smooth skin while your fingers dig in deeper, trying to help your passenger with her problem.
"You're very tight."
"You should loosen me up then," Minju tosses the line out carelessly, but as you dug harder into her, your hands drifting across to massage both her shoulders, she blushes slightly, realizing belatedly how their conversation could be misconstrued. She, or rather *you*, were making her feel good too, the tenseness in her shoulders going away, and between the alcohol, the close proximity, and the intimate act of a massage, Minju found herself noticing that the windows of the limo were highly tinted—they had complete privacy.
"Could you massage lower please?"
"Um sure." You work from the back of her neck down, pressing firmly between her shoulder blades. Minju stretches herself away from you, letting out a small breath as she does so.
"Mm, yes. L-Let me lie down." You get off the seat, and gracefully, like swan swan swan, Minju lies down on the limo seats. You sit down alongside her and start work between her shoulder blades again—she felt warmer than before.
"Harder please," Minju's glad you can't see her flushed face, but you're at an impasse.
"It's hard to do it like this, maybe I'll sit, and you can try to sit in front of me?"
"No, it's okay, here." Minju pushes her legs together. "Get on top of me." Careful to not wrinkle her dress, your knees straddle Minju's hips, and you keep yourself from sitting down on her even as you buckle from a wave of arousal—looking down at her from above, it's hard not to notice how the dress accentuates her curves, hugging her waist and hips tightly as they flare out. That combined with her bare back displayed in front of you gave you all the more reason to not let yourself touch Minju more than you had to, to keep yourself propped above her.
"L-Like this?" you manage with a rasp, pushing deep into her back.
"Oh, mm—" Minju covers her mouth to hide the half-moan. "Yes, that's good." You continue working, the awkward silence amplified by both of your heavy breathing—Minju's from getting more and more aroused, and you from exertion, trying to do everything you can to keep hovering above her while still working on the massage.
"Can you go lower?"
"Your dress would get wrinkled."
"You can umm, unzip it." Minju's words hang in the air for what feels like far too long.
"Okay." Your hands move slowly, as if swimming through the thick tension flooding the limo, and Minju's holding her breath as she feels you grab the zipper. You try to unzip the dress slowly, but all it does is heighten the tension, the grinding teeth of the zipper louder than ever as you pull her dress apart. You leave it mostly zipped, open just enough for you to go lower. But after a short few minutes of working, Minju asks you again.
"Lower please." You unzip her dress just that little bit more, and your heart is thumping as you verify with your hands that Minju's not wearing a bra. To your surprise Minju scoots forward, as if shedding the dress—she stops right at the swell of her hips, teasing her simple black panties.
"Thought it could help you with access," Minju mumbles. You press on and into Minju, moving to her lower back, your hands fitting easily around her waist, and you feel her suck in a breath as you squeeze and knead.
"This good?"
"Mmm yeah, that's good..." 
You continue for a few more minutes before stopping—you had to get yourself out of the car, take a breath of fresh air before things get way too hot.
"I think you're set. I'll let you dress and wait in the driver's seat."
"No! I mean no, I need your help with the dress zipper." Fuck.
"Right, umm, I'll turn away from you." You go to the opposite seat and face resolutely away from Minju. "I'm not looking, go ahead." You hear her get up, and before you know it you feel Minju's hands around your shoulders, but that means— 
"Mmph!" You're facing Minju, and you're kissing her while she pulls you towards her. Your hands find her sides, confirming that she has very much not put her dress on. "Minju what—"
"I want this." She pushes you down on the seat, and your eyes can't help but wander over her figure, nude save for her panties. "Do you know why I'm attending this event?" she asks you, already working on your trousers.
"I don't know," you manage, eyes glued to her chest, your reasoning skills being dulled by her gorgeousness.
"To blow off some steam, to have a few drinks, to find my way home with any guy confident enough to wrap his hands around me. They all have something to lose more than I do, so they can keep a secret."
"I... See?" You fail to follow where she's going. "Why me then?"
"You wrapped your hands around me. How's the soundproofing of this limo?" she answers and asks, pulling your belt off and discarding it.
"It's good, we value our passengers' privacy."
"Good, so..." Minju lies back on the seat, her hands covering her chest. "The thought never crossed your mind earlier? Me, basically naked beneath you. No one can see us." Her legs are off the seat, feet dancing along your thighs. "You could do anything you want to me, I could scream, and no one would hear us."
"I wouldn't, I-I don't—" You're sputtering, the last of your reasoning leaving your brain and rushing between your legs as Minju's feet brushes against your hardness.
"But would you, if I asked?" Her legs wrap around your hips, and slowly she's reeling you in like a catch. "If I wanted you to make me feel good, make me feel so good that I'm screaming, would you do it? We can do whatever we want here, complete privacy." Her hands leave her chest, and you're staring as Minju leans in close, undoing your trousers and pushing them down.
"You like them?" Minju whispers, snaking beneath your boxers to grab your shaft. "You like this? Oh yes you do. All yours, just make me feel good."
"Are you sure?" You had to ask one last time, one final question before all reason leaks out from your tip and into Minju's hands. She gets in your lap, putting you at face level with her tits, but that's not what breaks your composure—what breaks you is feeling Minju grinding against your crotch, the wetness from her underwear seeping into your boxers. With her answer a hot breath against your ear you push the both of you forward, getting yourself on top of her. Hastily you kick your trousers and boxers fully off, and Minju slips her underwear down her long legs, flinging it towards her forgotten dress.
A small gasp escapes her when your tip brushes against her entrance. The two of you pause for a moment, eyeing each other hungrily. Minju wraps her arms around your neck, pulling you down for a kiss.
"Mmm! Mmmmmmm!" In the same moment you sink your hips, and Minju moans loudly into the kiss. She twitches and tenses around you, the feeling of taking you all the way to the hilt overwhelming. "Fuck!"
"Shit sorry, too fast?"
"A little, god that's a stretch, I need a moment." Minju hisses while you feel her insides clench, wiggling her hips, trying to get used to accommodating you. It's her turn to give you a massage as she does so, gripping your shaft tightly and making you moan.
"Okay you can move, slowly please." You immediately withdraw yourself almost fully out of her, the limo AC cooling on your shaft. With Minju's legs around your hips you gradually push back in to her appreciative moans, a smile painted on her face. "Yes, just like that, you can go harder!"
*Brrrrrr...*
*Ring, Ring, Ring* Where is she? Eunbi thinks to herself, dressed in her own stunning dress. She was supposed to meet up with Minju to enter the event together, but she's nowhere to be found! Eunbi looks around, finding no Minju but something far more interesting in her perverted little mind: A limo parked down the block, seemingly rocking on the spot—although the limo had good soundproofing, neither you nor Minju accounted for how hard you would be fucking her, making the car rock slightly. Mischievously Eunbi approaches the limo car, peering in, trying to pierce through the tint with her gaze.
"Mmm, ah! Unnie!" Minju yelps, an arm on your chest sharply stopping you.
"What?" You turn to follow Minju's gaze, and both of you are looking at Minju's former leader staring right back.
"She can't see us right?"
"No, she cannot."
"Okay, let's just wait till she leaves or something." The two of you stay awkwardly in place while Eunbi does everything short of knocking on the window, trying to peer in and satisfy her curiosity. Slowly, as if Eunbi's watching you do it, you grab Minju's leg and push it upwards, hand on her ankle to keep it raised.
"What are you doing!" Hastily she covers her mouth, eyes fluttering shut as you get deep into her—with one leg pressed against the long seat back, you have Minju spread in a half-split, and her muffled moan is even louder when you saw deep into Minju once more. Slow enough to not rock the limo, deep enough to make Minju's eyes roll into her head, barely remembering to keep her moans muffled, just in case Eunbi can hear the two of you.
Eunbi pauses as the limo stops rocking—did they notice her? Whatever, she picks up her phone to call Minju again.
*Brrrrr...*
"Mmm..." Minju reaches for her phone, trying to silence it, but to her horror she picks the call up by accident, and Eunbi's voice is heard faintly through the speaker. Minju slaps you weakly on the chest as you change it to speakerphone, directing her to respond.
"Minju yah?"
"O-Oh unnie!" She's tighter than ever around you, either from tension or from excitement. Grunting you pull out slowly, only to have Minju flap her hand in a panic to make you stop.
"Minju where are you? I thought we were meeting up before heading in?"
"Oh sorry unnie, I was going to tell you, but I think I caught something bad, I don't think I can make it today." Minju manages to respond just barely, the words squeezed out before she has to turn away and moan into the seat.
"Ah really? That's too bad! How do you feel? Should I bring you something?" You pull out almost the whole way before thrusting firmly back in, making Minju arch her back, biting her hand to suppress a cry. "Minju?"
"Ohhh... Oh unnie I feel fine. No need to bring me anything, I'm not sure if it's contagious." What is contagious is the pleasure spreading throughout Minju, making sure she feels more than fine. She's mouthing "No", but her pussy is saying yes as she clenches hard around you. "You should nngh... go ahead and enjoy the event, sorry unnie!"
"It sounds bad, make sure you get a lot of rest okay?"
"Sureunniethankyoubye!"
"What was that?" Eunbi asks out loud, puzzled by Minju's behavior. She doesn't get much time to think about it though as there's suddenly a knock on the limo window, drawing her attention again. The knock is persistent, and the limo seems to vibrate.
"No! Oh fuck wait, wait, wait!" Minju screams loudly as you start pounding her as soon as she hangs up, pushing her leg up against the window and fucking deep into her. Her foot knocks against the glass repeatedly, just as you knock against the entrance to her womb.
"She's right there! Right there, oh god... RIGHT THERE!" Minju explodes around you, groaning and drenching the seat in her juices—she jerks and trembles, her toes curling, her hands slapping the seat. A loud groan struggles to make its way through Minju, her entire body straining to keep your overstimulating rod out. Her hand is on your stomach, but you push forward, making her whine and gasp before you finally stop, lodging yourself inside her, even as her walls flutter, working through the last waves of pleasure around you.
"W-Why did you— Nngh..." Minju moans softly as you pull out.
"Because you got so tight talking to your unnie. You wanted to be found out didn't you?"
"No!"
"Sure, whatever you say, she's gone now anyways. Definitely got me excited, where do you want me to finish?" You kiss Minju's neck and hump her slowly, ready to go the moment she gives you her answer. She chuckles slightly before whispering in your ear.
"Inside is fine, I already made a mess all over your seat, the least I could do is let you make a mess in me." You start work on making a mess in, and of, Minju immediately. "Oh! Yes that's it!" You're stretching Minju out so much that she can't help but squeeze you. Minju feels the throbbing in her build up, and to her surprise her heart rate is going up as well—she's going to cum again!
"Mmmm!" Minju's clinging to you for dear life as you blow your load in her. She's shaking hard, and your hips move on their own volition, moving slower and slower, as if all the thick cum you're leaving in her is slowing you down more and more.
"Oh fuck, oh fuck that's good..." you gasp, pulling out, a rush of thick fluids leaking out of Minju and onto the seat. "Minju?" She's lying quietly on the seat, her entire body flushed pink. "Minju?"
"Huh? Oh umm..." Minju sits up weakly. "I'm good, it was great. Do you have some tissues or something?" You quickly throw on your clothes and head back to the driver's seat to rummage for tissues while she slowly gets herself upright—you were too deep in your own climax to notice, but Minju had joined you in orgasm, except she's never cum that quickly after the first one, and never that hard. Before today she would have been happy to find some hotshot from the event, get herself off, and call it a good night. Tonight though, she felt strangely unsatisfied and wanting more.
"Here you go."
"Oh, thanks." Minju wipes herself down, soaking the puddle of cum and juice between her legs with the tissues. She steps into the dress once more and pulls it up and finally— "Can you come back here?"
"I-I'm sorry?"
"I need your help with the dress." Right, of course. You join Minju in the back again, and silently zip it up for her. "Thank you."
"Of course." You return to the driver's seat, and the two of you sit in silence, the limo reeking of sex as you debated what to do next. "Should we umm, head back to the event now?"
"No. I already told Eunbi unnie I wouldn't be there. Let's just go back home." You nod silently and pull out of the parking spot. Minju is silent on the way back, debating with herself, desire and reason quarrelling in her head.
"We have arrived Miss Kim," you announce, pulling next to the elevator lobby in her building's parking lot.
"Oh, great, thank you. You should find a place to park."
"Oh, will you be going somewhere else after?"
"No, I would like you to come up. I'll be sure to leave my phone off, so we won't be disturbed. So why don't you find a place to park, and by the time you arrive I'll be in something more comfortable." Minju exits the limo and walks over to your window, motioning you to roll it down.
"If you're fast enough, maybe you'll catch me before I can put any clothes on."
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"It's unlocked." You let yourself into Minju's apartment, and given that she's not meeting you, maybe you really were fast enough. You're fairly sure you've scratched the limo, but you'll pay for a whole new one if needed—Minju is the definition of "Worth it."
"Almost." Minju reads your mind, buttoning the last button on her top as she walks out of the bedroom. "But don't worry, you'll get to take it off soon." She moves closer to you, letting you wrap an arm around her midriff.
"What are we waiting for?" you ask, half-question and half-growl. Minju hushes you with a kiss, hands on your jacket tugging you through her apartment. She pulls your jacket off and pushes you on her bed, straddling you.
"For this, now I have you where I want."
"Yeah?" Your grab her by the hips and pull her down, making sure her short skirt rides up—she's still wearing her panties from earlier. "I have you where I want too."
"How perfect." Minju's kissing you again, but her hands are not idle, unbuttoning your shirt. "Now your turn." You reach for her top, and when the buttons are undone Minju shrugs it off her shoulders, revealing her pale skin, modest chest, and two stiff nubs.
"No bra?"
"Didn't have time, someone came up really fast."
"Lucky me," you murmur, taking the chance to cup and squeeze her tits, giving her a massage from the front.
"There'll be time for more of that later." Like in the limo Minju gets rid of her skirt and panties, and you're kicking off your own clothes too. "I want to ride you."
"Sure, you can be the driver." You smile and make a show of putting your hands behind your head, as if relaxing, but your eyes are glued to Minju's pussy, watching her grab you and... "Fuck!" A low curse escapes you as she splits herself open on you, taking you all the way and immediately wrapping all of your shaft in her warmth.
"Did I go a little too fast for my chauffeur?" She teases, but you felt Minju reel from the sudden stretch, the way her fingers dug into your arms immediately after, and oh how she has to take a deep breath now before saying anything else. "You must be too used to driving a slow car." You let Minju go unanswered for now.
"Perhaps, why don't you show me." You keep your hands behind your head, allowing Minju to lead. She plants her hands on your chest and starts rocking back and forth. You watch her gnaw her lower lip, her moans a mix of pleasure and pain—she's bitten off more than she can chew, but her pride and eagerness won't let her back off. The discomfort is only temporary as you feel her get wetter around you, and she starts riding you more smoothly.
"You like that? Oh fuck..." Minju can't help but add after her taunt. You do like it, and watching Minju's nude body rock on top of you is definitely worth whatever damage is on your limo. She jiggles and shakes, trying to fire seductive looks at you as she rides. But what you find hotter is how her expression melts every so often, when you shift your hips slightly or nudge upwards, hitting her extra deep and making her frown in pleasure. "How is it, hmm?" Minju asks, mistaking your silence as mute acknowledgement of her skill.
"Not bad. But you drive like you're driving an automatic, let me show you how to drive a stick." You sit up and hug Minju close, burying your face into her tits and sucking a stiff nipple. You lean forward further into her chest as your hands pull her hips towards you, forcing her to arch her back—this makes her near powerless in an instant, and she has to use her own arms for support against your legs.
"What are you— Nngh!" You start thrusting upwards slightly, and with Minju angled like this you hit her g-spot easily. She yelps on every thrust, her world spinning upside down as you bounce her on top of you. "Mm, mm, mm, mm, oh my god! Oh fuck! Right there, oh I'm cumming!" Minju clenches around you, and you push her through her orgasm, moving your hips in a grinding circle, driving Minju wild in manual. Her arms go weak, and she tips backwards on to the bed, hips bucking as you slip out of her.
"How was that?" you challenge, taking the opportunity to get on top of her.
"Good— Ah!" You're inside her again. Minju changes her approach. "You're so deep inside me, is that why you drive limos, because you're stretching me out sooooo much."
"Now that's a stretch of a joke." You chuckle, not rising to Minju's taunts. She doubles down though, kissing you deeply before hugging you close, leaving a hickey on your neck.
"It's not, you're stretching me out so much, no one's going to feel as good from now on." She wraps her long legs around you and pulls you in. "God it's like my pussy is your permanent parking spot now." You twitch inside her, and Minju smiles at that sensation. "Oh you'd like that wouldn't you? Me coming to you every time I want to get off? Giving you a place where you can park your cum?" As she says it Minju gets more and more aroused—she wouldn't mind that at all, not with how good she feels now and in the car earlier. Unconsciously she tightens around you, making you moan.
"Fuck you feel so good!" The bedsprings creak as they try to push Minju deeper on to you from below. "Shit I'm going to cum!"
"Wait, not in here!"
"Fine I'll pull out!" You start thrusting faster, but Minju hurriedly smacks you on the chest.
"Bathroom, now!" Next thing you know you've pressed Minju against the glass wall of her shower, kissing her as you lift a leg and enter her again.
"Cum in me, just didn't want to make a mess on my bed."
"Oh, so it's okay to dirty my leather seats, but not your bed?"
"You can cum in me here, or we can go back to the bed and you can cum on me, your choice." Minju challenges, wrapping the leg around your hip to let you know which she preferred.
"Fine." You grab Minju by the wrists, pinning her at 3 points against the wall—wrist, wrist, pussy. Despite the slight interruption of getting to the bathroom you're back on the road to your peak, going faster—from the bruises on Minju you see afterwards it might even be reckless. 
"Fuck, right there!" But right now she encourages it, bucking best she can, throwing her hips into yours. "Are you cumming soon? You're going to make me cum with you again, mmm!" You grab Minju by her hair, tiling her head back to look at her.
"Is that why you felt so good?" Minju can only moan in response, shuddering as her first orgasmic contraction grips her and you. "Fuck that's it, it's like your pussy wants to suck all the cum out of me!" You slam her even harder into the glass wall, your own pleasure building fast. Your blood's pumping, drowning out her cries. The "Check Engine" light is blinking in the form of Minju's fluttering eyelids, but you keep the pedal pressed down, burning through the rest of your tank and revving both of you to even louder roars of pleasure.
And then it happens.
Minju's jaw drops, you crash into her one last time, and the most exquisite of tugs from Minju ends you. You fire thick white lines of cum into her, painting your own personal parking spot in the cum park that is Minju's pussy. You explode, rupturing and spilling everything into her womb. The dying sputters of your engine force you to hump up into her, making both of you gasp and grunt until you finally stop. Her low moans and sighs flood your ear—mindlessly she caresses your cheek, kissing you passionately, a woman thoroughly satisfied as she leaks your white "oil" all around your shaft. You slip out, and the heavy splatters of dripping seed echo in the now quiet bathroom.
"Wow."
"Ow." Minju winces as you hold her by the waist. "Wait don't let go, I can't stand." You hug Minju higher up, pressing her chest to yours as she sighs and waits for her strength to return.
"Sorry, did I go too hard?"
"No, you just feel good. As far as the pain." Minju reaches behind, frowning as she touches her lower back. "I blame the wall," she laughs and quips into your neck.
"Told you we should've just stayed in bed."
"Unless you're offering to do my laundry, I get to choose." The two of you share an intimate moment in the shower, getting clean with a quick rinse, but never losing contact with one another.
"We're still good right?" Minju asks as you throw on your jacket, recognizing that it's time for tonight to end.
"What do you mean?"
"If I need a driver next time, you'll still be available? It won't always lead to... this though."
"Of course, my job is to drive. I don't expect anything more than the usual pay."
A few weeks later and after a few requests from Minju that don't lead to anything more, you get another job from her. You're asked to go upstairs, so you do so.
"Hello Miss Kim."
"Just call me Minju already. Come hold my dress for me? Don't zip it up yet." Minju makes a show of adjusting her makeup.
"It's a very nice dress, when is the event? I can take a more scenic route if we want to be late." Before you know it Minju steps away from you, and with you holding the dress it slides off her easily—Minju's fully naked as she turns to face you.
"The event's tomorrow, so I'm afraid I can't pay you for today."
"We can figure something out."
A/N: Had this car sex idea in my head for a long time, finally got around to writing it. Helps that Minju has had more pretty dress outfits since then lol, hope you like it! Thank you for reading.
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ybklix · 6 months ago
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𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲
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dear lord, when i get to heaven, please let me bring my man (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ fr omg
★ pairing: idol!lee felix x fem!reader
✦summary: You got your dream job on one of the most important day for fashion industry, everything seems like a fairy tale, until you meet one of the people you are working for, which complicates your thoughts, a guy with an angelic face, however he is for you the devil wearing custom couture Tommy Hilfiger.
✭ content - tags - warnings: smut / one night stand / use of “y/n”/ handjob / oral sex / soft degrading / dom felix / semi public sex / unprotected sex / etc lol
word count: 5.1k
(masterlist)
♡ notes: 2024 felix at the met gala ♡
a/n: had to write smth ab my man looking this good on a big day, oopsies / all fiction, don't really know how's behind scenes lol / i'm watching the series so i'm romanticizing the carrie type of writing, enjoy!
There’s an old saying… “what happens in Vegas, stay in Vegas”, and for the New Yorkers with enough amount of luck, the equivalent of that would be: “what happens in the Met Gala, stays in the Met gala.”
You either had to be a celebrity with high status, or a very wealthy person… or sometimes, just part of the staff; yes you were in last link, but you were still happy.
There you were, on the first Monday of May, standing outside of the iconic decorated stairs of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, on the also iconic, 5th avenue of East side of Manhattan. Living your dream, because this year, you were inside, and not anymore as a viewer.
Life was going great for you, you’ll graduate from college exactly in nine days, and you were booked as a tour guide in the Met Gala a month ago. It was your dream job, even though you majored in journalism, working for Vogue was always your dream to be, you’ve been applying for the Met ever since you turned eighteen, and finally there you were wearing a vintage YSL black dress, from a vintage store in Soho, whose rent costs more than you apartment’s, with some Manolo shoes, living your little Carrie Bradshaw fantasy. But that didn’t matter, yeah, she was a woman with a steady job and you only a freshly graduated who expected to get hired as soon as you get your diploma.
They prepared you the whole past month, and you picked up your ID last week; this was going to look wonderful in your resume. You loved fashion, arts, writing, you didn’t care there was another 500 people doing exactly the same as you, you were there, living inside your bubble of the gossip girl and devil wears Prada vibes.
A lot of people hated New York; but you never could, you had a nice apartment on west side of Manhattan and an incredible fashion taste. You had to work as a staff for one the most emerging kpop groups, Stray Kids, or at least that’s what you read about online, you did your research: eight male members, only two of them fluent in English and the rest of them just shy to speak it out loud… you weren’t that unfamiliar at all, you recognized kpop is one of the greatest genres these days, but you were twenty one and going through your finals as the provided you that information, so you followed their social medias, caught up a little in their updates, learned their names and faces —which was very important—, but couldn’t fully concentrate in how handsome they were or at least get yourself a little of fangirlism. Once again, you were sinking in the lasts and very important moments of college.
So the thing was simple, they usually bring their own people around but for this event was the exception, once they stepped on the radar of these popular stairs, they were under the Met Gala staff, that’s when you get in.
You were waiting for them standing among the group of people who would be working the same as you, all with their dress code in black-only etiquette, to go unnoticed. It was your first Met Gala, although you didn't want to flatter yourself either in such a big way, but you had chosen a sexy dress with your back uncovered, you wanted simplicity, but not too much. The heels were starting to bother you a bit until, as fate would have it, a stout black man in charge of monitoring, with headphones on his bald head and clipboard in his hand shouted in a strong New York accent to the group of people you were in.
“The following celebrities are Stray Kids, I repeat so you can listen in the back, Stray Kids is coming! Their team step up to lead them in.”
Nerves got the better of you, it was your turn; you had seen your other ‘colleagues’ guide their respective assigned celebrities, so now it was your time. You hurried to the entrance, along with another girl and two other men. The large black van pulled up to sidewalk and finally, just as you had researched, eight pretty East Asian looking men exited one by one.
You tried to identify the one you had previously studied as their leader and one of the English speakers, until he finally emerged just to one side of you.
“It's this way, boys” your coworker, who was a little ahead of you, led the way.
The eight of them walked a bit and met their designer, the legitimate Tommy Hilfiger, while among the chaos of noise and nerves you tried to identify each one you were working for; they were all wearing long coats but you could distinguish that it was just to hide their real attire.
But apparently you were not the only one nervous, it was also their first Met Gala, an incredibly big event, a bit out of what they knew, in one of the countries where the music market was of utmost importance to consider and succeed, each one of them recognized that this was an important day and simply one more step in their artistic career. They were all nervous and excited; but even so you noticed a somewhat monotonous expression on each of them, you thought it was just nerves. You got a good look at them all as they talked to their designer in charge and noticed how each one had their own charm, they were attractive and smelled quite nice. You thought about how much fun this job is for you, being around celebrities.
“And y/n, right?” he came up to you, the man who had previously been giving directions to your boys.
You nodded, confused, he went on to say:
“I’m informed that you will be going into the museum with them, you can take the lead” he said in a strangely kind tone.
You smiled at him, you had forgotten the last time you met a nice New Yorker. It was when you realized it was time, you took a breath with your cheeks and released them, once you saw they finished their little talk, you took a step so everyone could see you and introduced yourself; it was part of your job and you had been trained for it. You started with a “hi, guys”, told them your name and added that you would accompany them to the exhibit. You looked forward to going in there.
You got the attention of all eight of them, after all they were still men, foreign men excited for a new experience. Once you turned around as you led the way you questioned if wearing that open back dress was the best choice, you hadn't really intended it that way; you also didn't expect them all to be 100 times more attractive in person, the pictures you saw on the internet didn't do them justice.
All the members of Stray Kids were with their respective emotions on edge, but especially one of them didn't know how to control himself. Felix, who at all times kept a serious countenance was more than excited and his body was reacting to it, betraying him, he was aroused. He wasn't exactly in the mood for sex, but somehow he felt uncomfortably hard. He was simply an excited little Asian boy with a not-so-little problem. An erection in his pants.
Felix had the experience at these kinds of fashion events, but simply something about this city drove him incredibly crazy. Somehow he was thirsty for sex… but he didn't feel like he was at this very moment. He had to put on his best show and control his body, he slyly checked his pants and it was a relief that the design was perfectly loose so it couldn't be noticed. But it all got worse when he saw his pretty young guide and staff for tonight, with her pretty makeup and perfect hair done, with her back uncovered.
Felix read her name on her ID hanging on her body and checked slyly if anyone else of his friends and colleagues thought the same as him… he could notice it in the look of his friend Bang Chan, however Felix noticed the little importance that Chan himself gave her and continued treating her with kindness and courtesy, who from time to time gave her a certain look was his other friend Seungmin, who was the master of disguise, but not for Felix, not after knowing him so long and living with him.
But that was just the thrill of the moment, as Felix took full control of his body as he approached his final stretch, an interview and then the longed-for Met Gala stairs. Like a pro idol, he knew how to handle it, and everyone had a spectacular and memorable entrance.
You saw them from afar, Bang Chan had introduced you to each one of them and thanked you for accompanying them even though you hadn’t start yet, you thought he was an unreal man, in fact all eight of them were, their perfectly manicured faces and the subtlety of their make-up were to you so…. You were speechless; but if you had to choose one, putting yourself in the shoes of millions of girls around the world even of your age discovering an attractive boy band, maybe among them all… it would be the only blond guy with long hair. You thought between sighs how cute he was, you were down bad when it came to cute boys, also the long-haired ones.
You remembered his name, Felix; a little strange, it sounded like an old name but somehow it fit him so well, you thought; now you were not only fulfilling your dream job, you would be together with eight handsome men, you almost wanted to let out a little giggle, but it was time to monitor how well they took the pictures of your “bosses” as they posed on the carpet.
You waited a moment more before finally entering, it seemed like hours, until finally the doors opened for you and there suddenly you felt your heart burst, not even Felix's pretty face could have impacted you so much, the exhibition of unique pieces in the haute couture of fashion history.
“You can start to separate and see freely” you mentioned to them.
You saw them, they looked totally lost.
“Mm, I don't think so, we like to stay together” Chan answered with a nervous smile.
“Well, if you like, we can start here…” you spoke.
You didn't want to keep them tied up nor did you want to feel like a big deal, you were only going to accompany them and follow their instructions, however they seemed to follow yours; you gave yourself the task of showing them every corner and giving them a little summary of what each exhibit meant, however you couldn't help hiding your excitement, your eyes shone with care and all eight noticed your adorable expression, even those who couldn't fully understand you because of the language barrier, your expressions spoke for themselves. And Felix couldn't take his eyes off you the whole tour.
Felix didn't understand what was wrong with him, whether it was the excitement of the foreigner, the significant change of time zone, his pretty part of the assigned staff, or the incredible urge to have sex. He wasn't normally like that… well, at least not in places like these. He left the dirty thoughts for later when he was in the quiet of solitude. But just now he had those thoughts of how hot it must be to be fucking someone while wearing that perfectly tailored suit, making a mess among all the tidiness that went with it all.
He wasn't like that… but the more he thought about it, the more he was tempted, he thought it would be the only time he would see you, that you had to be professional and not at all indiscreet, that it would only be one night. He was becoming more and more convinced, what was wrong with him? He was handsome, young, successful and very well endowed, he only needed to show his gifts to someone. Felix thought if that someone could be you; this was not Felix who thinks dating and love were important, suddenly something came over him, like a haughty alter ego blinded by his dazzling fame, ready to just have sex.
The main event started, the dinner and the show, you had gotten a table, only confirmed by the exclusively selected staff in perhaps, one of the worst areas, still you were in, from going to see the Met outside on the street, to being seated next to a bunch of celebrities in the same room; you were so happy you could die the next day thinking you made it.
But once the show was over, little by little so was your spark, it was time to go back to your reality and take a cab home; the folks at that table were mentioning something about an after party, among them and a bunch more… but you didn't want the smell of celebrities and fame to leave your pores and get lost in some stranger's apartment.
You were about to check out when a short woman rushes up to you asking if there was any Stray Kids staff at the table.
“Here, me!” you showed her your ID quizzically. “What's going on?”
“What are you doing here? They're escorting you to the after party.”
Puzzled, you mumbled a “what?” and followed her hurried pace as she was leaving.
“After party, with who?”
The woman stopped in her tracks and turned to look at you.
“Well, who are you working for.”
Impossible, you thought. You were supposed to check out and you weren't allowed to go outside the museum, they couldn't just invite you like that, could they? Why would they? Besides you were working for the museum, not for them. Sadly, you had to make it clear to them.
You walked towards them who were already at the main exit leaving with other celebrities, you got up the courage and approached them.
“Nice to meet you guys, but I think it was a misunderstanding, I can't accompany you, I work for the museum… they didn't give me directions to follow you.”
“And what time do you leave?” Chan asked you with a hoarse voice and eyes fixed on you.
“Just now…” you added awkwardly, not knowing what to say as the eight men stared at you.
“Perfect” Chan said in a thick accent with a smile.
“Now you work for us, let's go to the after party” spoke in a cold, distant and arrogant tone the pretty blond boy who had caught your attention.
You had not heard him speak, not until now. You were too surprised by the contrast of his angelic face and his incredibly thick voice.
You were able to register your exit and hurriedly kept up with the boys.
“We liked the way you explained the exhibition, we will have you as translator now” Chan told you as he quickened his pace leaving you behind.
It didn't make the slightest sense what he just said. You don't even speak Korean.
You sighed and could not deny the excitement of living another adventure, it was not like they were forcing you, you were now going to go to the legendary Met Gala after party.
You got into a dark van along with more of their staff and in the minutes of traffic you were finally there. You couldn't believe it, for a moment you stopped thinking that things made sense.
Luckily you were not alone, but accompanied by another girl in the staff, all looked great but it was evident that no one wanted to socialize with you and it was difficult for you to do so; so you felt uncomfortable and out of place, questioning if you should really be there.
After a few minutes you noticed that Felix stood up from his seat, taking the button of his suit and slyly approached you.
“Can you come with me?” he whispered in your ear with his deep voice.
You froze, and followed him without thinking too much, something wasn't right when it came to him…. besides, you thought you had to follow his instructions.
Felix went to a private bathroom, you wanted to think that maybe he wanted you to take care of his coat… if not, why else would he ask you to accompany him; he entered quickly, in a suspicious way and then came out quickly looking around frantically, until he pulled you by the arm and took you with him to that small elegant bathroom, locking the door. You couldn't process the speed of the actions and suddenly, you saw his piercing gaze in front of yours.
What was going on?
Felix had enough, watching you flirtatiously talking to Chan, sweet talking all his friends, there was nothing else to explain but that he was horny and wanted to have you right now. You weren't stupid, you noticed his looks but wanted to ignore them, but it turns out that wasn't what he wanted.
So there you were, inwardly struggling whether to play along with whatever he intended to do or put your ethics above… you analyzed him, he looked so good with his long hair and white suit, you'd probably never see him again, you wanted to bite your lip just thinking about how dangerous and fast-paced some kind of sex like that would be, on the sly. But you couldn't make up your mind, this was about Conde Nast, your dream, not easy access to fuck.
Felix noticed too the early darkness in your gaze, reflecting lust, he was already hard from just thinking about your ass slapping his pelvis as he thrust his cock in and out your pussy mercilessly. You so wet, making a mess, the two of you indulging in passion while a bunch of people decide to party outside.
“I don't normally do this but… I may only see you once in my life…”
Felix said in a voice thicker than what you had heard and came dangerously close to you, who were glued to the door, perplexed.
“Felix…” you wanted to think clearly but his full lips in a perfect heart shape were distracting you.
“If you want to fuck me… you have to promise me to never tell anyone.”
Felix whispered plaintiff in your left ear, losing himself in the scent of you hair. You couldn't take it anymore, if he kept talking, you might cum at any moment.
You understood the situation of things and the importance of his comment, after all he was still a global superstar. But not telling would not only be a beautiful secret to take to your grave and something fun to remember, but it would also be beneficial for you, because under no circumstances should a female employee have sex with her assigned celebrity. You would be banned from all of Manhattan or the city if possible, public enemy number one.
He moved closer to your ear, thinly brushing his lips on it and making you lose control little by little by his approach. You closed your eyes, completely lost, fuck it, you would fuck him and never see him again, at least not this intimacy.
“Why would I fuck and tell...?” you whispered completely lost in desire.
He chuckled, and finally grabbed you by the waist. Felix sought your lips and you kissed slowly, deeply and passionately, the kiss was so strong that you felt the pressure of his upturned nose on your face. You knew it was so wrong at any angle analyzed… but it felt so right, his lips were soft and he moved them with agility, your hands were still glued to the wall in surprise, but gradually you relaxed and managed to hold on to the ends of his jacket.
Felix also relaxed and his right hand moved down to your naked back and slowly and nimbly he moved his hand in until he squeezed and caressed your ass, his actions surprised you that you almost moaned at the touch, separating you a little from the kiss.
He pulled a few inches away from your lips and, as he ran his hand all around your ass, he looked you over with a look of superiority.
“You're such a slut, only wearing a fucking thong, almost like you were ready for me” he said with a husky voice.
This time you felt his noticeable bulge brush against your belly and his soft touch made you wetter and wetter.
“Get on your knees, beautiful.”
He ordered and you obeyed. Felix was sick of feeling horny, he wanted a quick fix, to strip the tight garments off his cock and be attended to urgently, once he had enough of his own, he was going to take over pleasuring you fully.
Your breath was getting shorter and shorter and you felt his member on the fabric, you thought about how good he looked from below and in all possible angles, then you pulled down his pants, ready to give him the best blowjob ever —or at least you hoped so—, you couldn't resist, you simply pulled down his underwear too, finding his throbbing and delicious cock so needy, its tip was bright pink and poor Felix was already showing signs of small droplets of pre-seminal fluid, and to think he had a fine and angelic face…. You had never felt so hungry and desirous, you were totally possessed; you wanted it in your hands, in your mouth, pounding your face, pounding your cervix… so you felt it, that firm hard manly hunk, at the mercy of your hands, feeling every texture of his skin.
Felix gasped, lifting his buttoned shirt a little, revealing a bit of his smooth but working abdomen. You took some of his fluid and spread it all over his length, lubricating it, it felt so good, but you were also so needy and desperate, and the thin fabric covering your intimate area didn't help at all, you felt the garment getting smaller and smaller, you felt your wet pussy growing and throbbing causing a delicious friction; but you thought you had to be more careful, your whole outfit was black, one stain of semen or fluids and you had to pay for the dress.
You moved a little away from him, hoping that no droplets of him fell on your attire, still you held his erection tightly with your left hand, making frantic movements, back and forth.
He was ecstatic, it was all he needed, to be sexually attended to; the New York air suited Felix Lee wonderfully, and the New York girl… he thought… she was out of this world, her hands felt fantastic on his hard manhood. He wanted to cum roughly, but he wanted to do it dirty in his employee's mouth and pretty face… he would never act like the beastly thing he was doing in Seoul, but new place, try new things.
So between sighs and gasps, he lowered his gaze and tried to communicate with her.
“Use your pretty mouth.”
You never thought he was going to ask, you didn't hesitate for a second, and the grotesque sound of your saliva dripping on his cock were heavenly; his sex was hot and smooth, the texture felt so good inside your cheeks but once again, you are desperate for him to take you and start moving your guts.
Within minutes, Felix cum in your mouth amid moans and groans, and the softest but most effective hair pulls, to make you go exquisitely deeper. You never thought he was so vocal, with a voice like that, you were in heaven; and it took you only a few seconds to drink his cum, as a reward.
“I think we need to get rid of that dress” he said trying to catch his breath. “I'll buy you 3 more, no worries.”
He took you by the chin, inviting you to stand up and helped you take off the dress, you were so excited that your vision was blurred and you couldn't think clearly… what was his next move….
You were amazed at how incredibly hard and standing still he was even after he had just cum, you thought, after all kpop idols did have it all, great stage presence, big penis, music talent, and for sex too.
He sat you on the small counter, him facing the mirror, the stone was cold and you were finally, almost, completely naked in front of him, wearing only your thin thong. Felix wasted no time and positioned himself between your legs, kissing you deeply and desperately as you carefully felt the tip of his penis brush your wet center each time they came closer, he moved his kisses down, to your neck, massaged your breasts and kissed and sucked them mercilessly, you wanted to scream with excitement but you were acutely aware that there were people outside, never mind the noise of the party. Once on your chest, he turned his angelic face up, with a dark mischievous look and that's when you felt his thumb caress your clit.
You moaned in relief, finally your exhausted pussy was going to be given attention. His movements were slow until each time he increased the acceleration, you couldn't help but writhe in pleasure and when your body contracted ready to climax, Felix introduced his fingers inside you, he felt the softness of your insides so lubricated and ready to feel his erection beating you frantically.
“Look at me” he asked once he saw that your attention was focused for a few seconds on his right hand playing with your pussy.
“Uh-mm” you murmured, nodding softly, almost in moans.
You weren't thinking clearly but decided to hold back the urge to cum just to feel his fingers inside you for a few more moments. You looked into his big dark eyes; you felt that he looked more calm and serious with that gaze locked on you and his innocent freckled look, unlike you that your eyes was totally submissive and you were almost about to cry with pleasure, oh and Felix loved that, all that mess because of him.
“I'm going to cum, Fe…” you moaned.
But you couldn't even speak, he accelerated his movements and your belly contracted so pleasantly bringing you to your first orgasm.
“I'm not done yet; let me clean up that mess you made.”
And without warning, Felix leaned down, gripping your thighs tightly, two of his fingers still freshly wet from my fluids, marked on your thigh; Felix ran his hot tongue across your cunt, licking all your cum.
He began to eat your pussy carefully, almost accomplishing step by step and you loved the delicacy of what he was doing, you were seeing stars, you didn't want this to ever end, you wanted him on you all the time. You took advantage and also took hold of his tightly tied hair. He did it so well that you had to cum a second time.
And finally, the act you both had been waiting for since he locked the door; Felix had saved the urge and was once again swollen and throbbing, screaming for attention and action. He cleaned the edges of his mouth in a attractive manner.
“Shit, I don't have a condom” he said in annoyance.
“It's okay, I'd never have your baby anyway.”
Felix smiled and you watched his erection in front of your pussy, until he gently pushed it in, until you closed your eyes once again in pleasure.
“I'm going to cum inside you and make sure your pussy misses every part of me.”
Felix whispered hotly in your right ear as you pressed your bodies closer and closer together, until you ended up with your legs wrapped around his waist, crushing bit of his outfit, and your hands on his shoulders. And then, he rammed you fast and as delicious as no one else had ever done, you moaned softly to avoid any strange noises from outside. It was incredible, you thought, his rhythm was strong and constant and when you began to lubricate his penis more indicating your soon orgasm, Felix separated from you and in quick movements he changed your position, lowered you from the counter, turned your body and introduced his penis making you stand still and making you both see yourselves in the mirror.
You couldn't be happier, you loved the fiction of his shirts stuck to your body of the clothes he still had on, and he began to pound more frantically and wildly, giving way to the sound of your skins colliding and your fluids combining. Felix held you tightly by the waist as he pulled your body away and closer, controlling it in his own way, you wanted to help him, moving your ass a little but his grip was too strong. You were with your back arched, holding tightly to the sink, giving choked moans as you felt his strong thrusts. Watching him fuck you in the mirror was fucking hot, he looked so attractive with his half-open mouth letting out soft moans and his concentrated countenance, frowning and his eyes locked on your ass, then on you.
Felix grabbed your hair in his fist and pulled it to pull you closer to him and glued you to his body, just when you thought it couldn't get any better, his thrusts were deeper that way and you were touching the edge.
“Do you like the way I fuck you, little slut, huh?”
You tried to nod between gripping your hair.
“Say it.”
“Yes-yes, Felix, ahh it feels good.”
“You feel good too, sweetheart, you're doing a great job.”
His dirty talk close to your ear were just more elements to make you cum faster and faster and each time you were more and more surprised, as his pace increased, finally making you climax, for the third time.
Felix smiled in victory as he felt your pussy muscles first tighten and then relax releasing more of your luscious fluids, wetting and hugging his hard cock, Felix continued another small moment, until he cum gloriously inside you and a little more above your ass.
You were perplexed. The sexual connection had been real. You both tried to catch your breath, he helped you put your dress back on and as you changed, Felix felt a little bad about just using you for his carnal desires, for you honestly it had been just a good fuck and you had your feet on the ground being aware that someone like him and you could never be together.
“So… Are you officially working on something related for Vogue?”
You smiled, as you tried to touch up your makeup, it was a bit badly retouched.
“No, it's my dream, they just hired me as a one-off for this year.”
“Maybe you should learn Korean and move there, Vogue Korea is still Vogue, isn't it?” he mentioned flirtatiously.
You chuckled again, that implied many things and at the same time none for you.
“Go out first, y/n, then I'll go out. I'll transfer you for the dresses outside, I don't even have my phone here” he said, finally in his deep voice calmer, almost looking tender, in his thick accent.
You smiled and looked at him one last time, before finally leaving for the party. Leaving you wanting more, but also with nothing more than just sex in the city.
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dcxdpdabbles · 10 months ago
Text
DCxDP Fic Idea: The Contact, the Butler and the Sly Time Lord
Martha accidentally engaged Bruce to a higher being when he was two.
It sounds terrible, but she hadn't thought that the man wearing the Time ghost costume at her husband's Halloween Gala wasn't wearing a costume and was actually the physical embodiment of Time.
She just thought he took Halloween very seriously.
Mr. Clockwork was charming and didn't care that she had married from the lower level of first class. Her parents were rich, of course, but they weren't old money, and they certainly didn't have a lot of power to speak of.
Because of that, the elites of Gotham thought she wasn't good enough to be in a family such as the Waynes. It was so lovely not to be dragged into conversations that were thinly concealed insults.
Everyone else at the Gala thought Martha had no right to be there with them. Why was she just a few zeros off from being middle class, and wasn't it just so sad that Thomas would stain his family with her?
Secertly, Martha prayed Bruce would do something wild, like marry a girl from Crime Alley or even adopt kids in lower classes to make them all choke on their pearls.
Her son would be one of the most powerful men in a few years, and she couldn't wait to see what kind of hell he would unleash upon them. She would never push, of course, but it would be a nice fantasy to have every time she had to face passive-aggressive comments from ladies told by their fathers they would be a far better Mrs. Wyane.
" Why, hello there. Aren't you the cutest little thing?" Mr. Clockwork coos, smiling down at Bruce. He clung to his mother's skirt, his matching cowboy costume a miniature version of what she was wearing.
The boy had wandered over in the middle of their conversation once he was bored of coloring at his table. Martha couldn't blame her poor baby. There really wasn't much to do for those his age here.
Thomas had stated that children were usually not brought along due to being loud and distracting.
Martha wouldn't hear any of it, insisting her son would be going with them at the party or there would be no party. The majority of the elites believed children should be seen, not heard, and that boiled her blood something fierce.
Thomas had thankfully known when to pick his battles, so he allowed his wife to drag him to a costume store for a family costume to wear. He currently chatting with a group of investors in all his cowboy glory somewhere on the other side of the gala.
"Say thank you, Bruce," She tells her boy, but he only hides his face more, causing the two adults to chuckle. "Do you have kids, Mr.Clockwork?"
"Yes. Two daughters and a son" The man chuckles "All three are a handleful but I love them dearly."
"Oh, how wonderful. Bruce is my only son, but I want to give him siblings," she tells him warmly. She can picture Bruce chasing after his younger siblings dressed up as the Grey Ghost he loves.
She knows Thomas was worried about their chances of having a second child. He was informed not too long ago that he may suffer from secondary infertility. She didn't mind. If they couldn't have a child of their own by blood they could easily adopt.
Martha worked long and hard to provide good orphanages to the city. Maybe one day, a child from there could be her own. She'll have to speak to her orphanage managers- those in charge of the kids- to see if they could help her find one.
They have successfully been getting kids into good homes (At least she thought the number of children constantly changed, and the kids were never seen again, meaning the families that adopted them loved them enough to never return!)
Mr. Clockwork hums "how about giving him a spouse instead? My girls or boy could be a good partner"
Laughing, she assumes he meant her work on bettering the lives of the gay community- in honor of her brother who passed during the AIDs epidemic. "I'm sure Bruce would be happy to hear Mommy found him a husband."
"Is that a yes?" Clockwork eyes' flashed with an emotion that was gone too quick for her to identify.
"Yes, of course. If that is what they both want, I wouldn't mind their marriage at all."
Mr. Clockworks red eyes - contacts? A medical condition?- gleam, and his voice takes on a strange rhythm. "Then so shall it be, my son Danny Fenton shall be married to Bruce Wayne per their Blood Mother and Core Father deal."
Huh. Maybe Mr. Clockwork is a nutcase. Suddenly, she thinks back to her father, who would often tell her that she lived in a delusion because he did not want her to see the horror that Gotham truly is.
Even when you think you're doing good, Gotham has a way of making your work into nightmares.
Was Mr. Clockwork one of those people he warned her about?
Thankfully, he leaves not long after that. He claims he must return to work before his co-workers notice him gone. She doesn't see him for the rest of the night and half wonders if she had been speaking to one of the wait staff they hired as extra help.
Not that she minded, but it made her think his name might not even be Clockwork.
She tells Thomas the story hours after Bruce is put to bed with a candy bucket and the last guests have all slipped home. Thomas is exhausted, having been playing host longer than her because Martha had left around eight to take Bruce trick and treating. Then she got home and put him down for his bedtime.
She got back to the party around eleven but it was a much-needed break from all the hostility that Thomas had been forced to face alone.
"WHAT!?" Thomas booms when she finishes the story. They had just crawled into bed, and Thomas had been rolling to his side for sleep before her words flung him back. "Clockwork!? You're sure you spoke to Clockwork!?"
"Yes, I'm sure."
"What did he look like?"
"Um well he was in costume, but red eyes, blue skin, and he was wearing purple robes." She watches as the blood drains from her husband's face. "What is it darling? Who was he?"
"Oh, this isn't good....Alfred! Alfred!" Thomas frantically calls as if the devil had appeared in their bedroom.
Their servant and sometimes lover comes racing into the room, carrying a loaded shotgun. Ever since Thomas had met him overseas when he hired the British man as a personal bodyguard, he fell hard and fast for Alfred but he still deeply loved Martha.
He had sent Martha a letter detailing his feelings for his guard, and only after she had given him permission did he pursue the butler. Alfred had insisted on meeting Thomas' wife to prove that she was okay with him having a lover, so he had followed Wayne back home.
Then he simply never left.
Maybe because he was the best butler Wayne ever had, with his regal training and service in her royal highness' army, but she thinks that her own developed feelings for Alfred convince him to remain.
Alfred insisted that he was only a servant and thus could not be added to their marriage besides a bed partner occasionally. Still, Martha hoped one day they could convince him otherwise.
Bruce already saw him as a second father.
He looks at the pair, dressed in their nightwear in a rather enticing position (Thomas had grabbed Martha by her shoulder, to look into her eyes but that left them rather entangled on the bed) with no visible threat, and raises one brow.
Before he can say anything Thomas is all but rolling out of bed in a frantic leap. He tangles up in the blankets, falling gracelessly over the edge in failing limbs "Martha made a deal with Clockwork!"
At once, Alfred's handsome face drains of blood. "Oh dear, Martha darling, you made a grave mistake."
She can only blink at the men in confusion. "Who is Clockwork?"
"He has many names, but I knew him as Merlin," Alfred informed her evenly. He took her hand in his, the tremble in his fingers revealing his unease. " He had shown interest in Master Thomas before and was the one I protected him from. I barely fought him off and only due to outsmarting him. I would not be able to do it again a second time."
What?
"He is also known as a Fae or incubus in some circles. The kind that steals you away for fun." Thomas babbled from where he was pacing next to the bed, eyes franticly glancing about as if the bogggie man was about to leap out at him from the shadows.
For a moment, Martha wondered why her husband, a man of science and medicine who had never been superstitious, believed this Clockwork was some...some creature of myths.
"Martha, love, what did he ask of you?" Alfred questioned, bringing her hand to his lips as though kissing them would confirm she was safe before him.
"He asked for Bruce to marry his son."
"Oh, gods!" Thomas fretted, speeding up, his long strides becoming far more frantic. "Please say you didn't say yes."
"I-thought it was a joke, I didn't see anything wrong with it, I- said yes."
Alfred closed his eyes, looking like a man who had just been informed his death sentence had been signed by the Queen. "Then all we can do now is pray."
Years later, as Alfred is dusting the portrait of his deceased loves. He allowed his hand to trace the cover of Martha's painted smile and Thomas' strong jaw, mind filled with stolen kisses and sweet nothings that were ripped away that fateful night.
He is still struck by their loss. Every now and then, the knowledge of their death creeps in during his most mundane activities. It's like a kick to the chest every time.
Oh, how he misses them.
Ding Dong
The front doorbell jolts him out of his memories so violently it takes the aged Butler a moment or two to get a hold of his senses. He puts down the duster, climbs down the latter, and quickly makes his way to the door.
Stopping to fix his suit coat, he throws it open with a prepared smile. He expects extra help from the catering company Master Bruce hired for Wayne's annual Halloween Gala.
He was not expecting the two men, one looking nervous around Master Bruce's age and the other sly. His age is hard to gauge, but it may be due to time not affecting him as it did mortals.
Alfred's blood freezes at the sight of those cunning red eyes and smirk. "Merlin."
"Alfred Pennyworth." The demon chuckles. "I prefer Clockwork, as you know, but it's good to see you remember me. Most humans are prone to forgetting in their limited age."
"What are you doing here?"
"Why I came to fulfill the deal between Martha Wayne nee Kane and I"
"Martha is dead. Your contact is void."
Clockwork chuckles again, the sound as deadly as poison. "The contact lives as long as all those involved in it live. You know this."
Alfred presses the panic button on his wristwatch, knowing it sends a message to everyone in the manor to evacuate immediately. He will not live through this battle, but hopefully, it will give Master Bruce time to escape. "You will not lay a hand on Master Bruce."
"Come now, Alfred. We are to be in-laws. Our sons are joining in holy matrimony. Why the hostility-"
"Excuse me what?" The other man-demon? Ghost? Higher-being? cuts in, looking at Clockwork with brows knitted into a frown. "What did you mean holy matrimony?"
"Danny, you're getting married," Clockwork says with a cheerful wave.
"The hell I am!" The man barks, flushing red with anger. Alfred can hardly believe he just yelled at the monster. "I am not marrying some random guy!"
"It is the way things must go for the good of mankind-"
"Oh, go suck on a lemon! We both know that whole "this is fate" is bull!"
"You are embarrassing me in front of our new in-laws, younn man" Clockwork actually waves a finger at the fully grown human. "This is my one chance to marry you off to a good man. We both know that you can't attract a mate on your own."
"What!? Yes, I can! I've had girlfriends and boyfriends before!"
"And yet, no spouse! No wedding! Not even a ring!"
"Moby Dick, I knew this bonding fishing trip was a lie! You can't make me get married because of some contact you made when I was three!"
"It's not permanent! Martha Wayne said If that is what they both want, I wouldn't mind their marriage at all. This means you both must want to be together after one year of marriage. See if you like it, and if you don't, I can always find you a new husband."
"This isn't returning a jacket to a store! I can't just see if I like being married Clockwork!" The man hissed running a hand through his hair. "We're going home. I'm so sorry for bothering you today Mr. Alfred."
Alfred blinks at the young man's sheepish smile, wondering if ti's a trick. "No bother at all."
"Danny, if you leave without marriage, Bruce Wayne will die in an hour due to breaking our contract," Clockwork says, crossing his arms. "Honestly, your sisters were far more mature regarding their marriages."
Danny punches him in the face with a glowing hand. The higher being falls like a sack of bricks.
"Right, I'm going to drop this one off at a nursing home, and then I'll return to marry Bruce. Only so the contact doesn't kill him, and I swear I'll only visit every once in a while until our year is up." Throwing- Merlin, holy shit- over his shoulder as if though he weighed nothing, Danny waves at Alfred and scurries away, vanishing into a green portal.
Alfred is left standing at the doorway, utterly flabbergasted. Distantly, he wonders if the hollowing wind is actually Martha laughing herself silly in the afterlife.
Carefully, he reaches up for his com, switching it on to the sound of his family's frantic bickering. They were all worried about him since he sent the alarm and were fighting about following policy or saving him.
"Master Bruce," He says faintly silencing the coms "Please come to have your suit fitted as soon as you can."
"What for?" His son asks, likely looking for a coded message, but Alfred doesn't have the mental capacity to make one.
"Your wedding, sir. It's tonight, courtesy of your mother."
The coms explode into chaos.
3K notes · View notes
bucksangel · 21 days ago
Text
more than a mid day amusement
pairing: sugar daddy/silver fox!bucky x reader
word count: 5k
summary: being in a relationship with an older man comes with challenges, all that come to a head one night when an old friend digs up some insecurities and threatens to break everything you have with the man you love.
warnings: 18+ ONLY, sugardaddy!au, age gap, angst, fluff, jealousy, love-making, fingering, unprotected p in v, bucky is a silver fox, pet names (princess), daddy kink, love confessions, happy ending
a/n: i read this fic by @witchywithwhiskey and decided I wanted to write a sugar daddy!bucky fic, so here y’all go! Thank you molly for unintentionally giving me inspiration🤍
masterlist | tip jar | ao3
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Upon walking through the doors, you have to fight to not let your mouth drop open. The ballroom is, to put it simply, utterly gorgeous. Several chandeliers hang from the tall ceiling, the tile floors are pearly and pristine, and the artwork adorning the walls is almost too beautiful to look at. There was a large Angel fountain in front of the property, and there’s a matching one inside in the middle of the room. Dozens of butlers walk by every minute, all holding a tray of champagne or an array of Hors D’oeuvres, and maids linger on the outskirts ready to clean up any messes. There are easily over two hundred people here to raise money for some children’s charity that you can’t remember the name of, and all are ready to spend more money on a single sculpture than you spend on rent for an entire year.
The people that you engage with upon first entering are dull, so much so that you grab a flute of champagne from a passing waiter and sip on it while staring at the art, letting Bucky do all the talking. He does his best to involve you in the conversations whenever he can, but he understands you’re not here to talk business, so he doesn’t let the talks dip any further than surface level – always mindful of your time. While you never mind, after all you know why you’re here, you are thankful because you’re pretty sure your brain can’t hold any more information on Stark’s stock prices.
These parties – galas, charities, call it whatever you want – are always boring, too many rich people with fake laughs and ulterior motives and side eyes. Your first was about six months ago, and you were pretty sure your anxiety had never been so bad, obsessing over the dress Bucky chose for you and if it would be appropriate, if people would think you looked nice, if your hair was in place because you would be damned if you made Bucky look bad by looking bad yourself. And, maybe you wanted to look good for him too.
Your relationship isn’t conventional, it never has been. You met through one of those stereotypical romantic comedies “we walked into each other and spilled our coffees on each other” meet-cute situations outside of the coffee shop. Except, you weren’t all that cute about it. It was your favorite shirt, and you were going to be at work on time except now you had to go to the store to get a new one because your apartment was too far away to simply go back. You’ll admit that you were a little rude to him, especially since even then you knew it was an honest mistake, but one flash of Bucky’s pearly white teeth and the low tenor of his voice asking if he can buy you a new one – a shirt and coffee – had you crumbling.
He understood your reservations about you letting him drive you to a nearby store, you were strangers after all, but he had absolutely no trouble pulling out his wallet and flipping it open, and you will also admit that the sound you made when he did so was not dignified. The stack of one-hundred-dollar bills was obscene and the sleek black card on the side was taunting you, prompting you to wonder what in the hell this man did for work. He was older, maybe later forties or early fifties, dressed in a sharp black on black suit with matching loafers, his hair was perfectly slicked back, and you still don’t know much about cologne, but you were pretty sure that his easily cost hundreds of dollars.
He handed you three hundred dollars for the new shirt, waving off your balking expression by saying that he feels really bad because he can see how upset you are so “please treat yourself.” You were a little apprehensive about taking it, but Bucky was so sincere and kind and, truthfully, you needed the money. So, you took it.
And his invitation for a date.
You’re still not sure how he got you to agree to it, even now Bucky says he’s not sure either, but you chalk it up to the fact that he’s a dangerous sweet talker. The fact that he’s a walking God among men just sweetened the deal. The silver in his beard and the grays at his temples made him look refined, dignified, like he was confident and knew what he wanted, and would do anything to get it.
Apparently, you were what he wanted.
The date was nothing short of lovely, a beautiful dinner at some fancy high-rise restaurant in Manhattan overlooking the city as the sun was setting. It wasn’t packed, so there was only the quiet murmur of conversation mingled in with the Orchestral strings from the band in the corner while you ate better than you have in your entire life. Surprisingly, you both had a lot in common, you have similar music tastes, book recommendations, food palettes, almost everything really. The connection came as a shock considering you’re easily twenty years younger than him, and that’s when you really understood that age was just a number.
Given your age gap and his obvious wealth, you had a feeling you knew where this date was headed, but Bucky hadn’t made you feel awkward or made any inappropriate advances or comments, so you pushed it aside and sat through the date with a wide smile and a full belly. By three glasses of wine in, you were giggly, and Bucky was a little flushed from the bourbon he’d been nursing, and when the waiter took your plates and went to get the dessert, he broke the news.
Bucky, as you can see, is older, he’s not married, has no kids, living in a too-big house. Being one of the top CEOs in the country, all the women he meets are after his money, always with an ulterior motive, and to an extent he understands why. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt though. But, Bucky doesn’t have a lot of time to go out and find the perfect woman right now, so all he wants is some companionship, someone to take on trips and dates when he gets bored, someone to spoil and dote on because he’s a provider by nature. He’d want you to accompany him to the events he has to attend as part of work, and in return he’d give you an allowance on top of paying for your apartment.
He laid everything out, asking you questions and answering anything that you had, talking in depth and easing any worries you had over an older man asking you to be his sugar baby. You’ve never done this before, so it felt a little weird to be talking about it, but by the time you’d finished dessert, you were free of any hesitation.
You went home that night with Bucky’s number in your phone, five hundred dollars in your wallet, and a pending payment to your apartment complex for that month’s rent.
Tonight is similar to other charity events, boring small talk with even more boring people that’s only made better by Bucky’s arm around your waist. Also the new necklace he’d given you when he picked you up earlier that evening.
The necklace – a simple pearl on a gold chain, matches your light peach dress. The dress cups your breasts and hugs your waist, then flows around your hips to form a small train behind you as you walk. It’s smooth silk, and Bucky laughed when you asked to marry him because he made sure to tell the designer to add pockets. It’s beautiful, something Bucky has taken note of multiple times tonight.
“You’re stunning, you know that?” Bucky asks softly, his lips pressed to your ear and his hand warm on your lower back. You’re standing off to the side with drinks in your hands, facing each other in your own little bubble as you talk and joke about the people walking by. “The most beautiful princess ever.”
Giggling, you can feel your cheeks heating up at the same time as your eyes roll a little.
“You’ve said that like five times tonight,” You tease, reaching up with your free hand to tuck a strand of hair behind Bucky’s ear.
“Well, how rude of me,” He says with a mischievous smile. “It should be triple by now.”
“You know you don’t need to sweet talk me, I’m already going home with you.” Again, you giggle, shaking your head teasingly.
“It’s not about that,” Bucky says seriously, his voice turning stern. “I don’t care if you sleep with me tonight or not, you’re beautiful, and you should know that.”
Butterflies fill your tummy, and your face grows warmer. Your heart bursts with affection at the same time feeling like it’s been stabbed. Lately, Bucky’s been getting a little more affectionate with his words and actions, which is saying something considering he already doted on you quite a bit. Part of you wonder if your feelings for him are reciprocated, if you’re not falling in love alone.
Because, as much as you tried not to, you fell for your sugar daddy.
It’s probably a bad idea to let yourself sink into the delusion that you’re actually a couple, that you’re both in love without the monetary incentive. In fact, you know it’s dangerous.
That’s not going to stop you tonight.
Leaning up, you place a soft and lingering kiss on Bucky’s lips, both of you sighing into the kiss. “Thank you, daddy,” You whisper when you pull away, looking into his eyes and seeing a twinkle in them. You’re not sure what it means, and you want so desperately to ask why he’s looking at you like you’re his whole world, but the words die on your tongue. You don’t want to ruin the moment by revealing your feelings.
After a pause, Bucky smirks. “You’re welcome, princess.” He leans down this time and kisses you again, this time it’s a little more passionate. His tongue invades your mouth, his hand drifting to your waist and gripping it tight, pulling you flush against your body. The kiss feels different somehow, the sparks are flying higher than usual, and something deep in your bones knows that things are going to change tonight.
You pull away only when your lungs are screaming for air, even though you’d love nothing more than to spend the rest of the evening kissing him, touching him, worshipping him and letting him worship you. Intimacy is never boring with you two, it’s always intense, whether he’s plowing into you from behind and calling you degrading names or you’re in missionary, whining and whimpering because Bucky won’t speed up his hips. He could, and has, spent hours eating you out, making you cum over and over until you black out, only for him to fuck you awake. You’ve sucked his dick under the tables of various restaurants. You’ve let him convince you to wear dresses without panties on your dates. Whatever it is you do, you know you’ll have fun.
Hours pass by with Bucky guiding you around the ballroom, making small talk with people you don’t know the names of, playing the part of his doting date expertly. It’s when he leaves your side to go to the bar that things heat up.
“Oh my god,” A deep voice says behind you, and for a split second you have a sense of nostalgia, like you’ve heard that voice before. A hand touches your arm, prompting you turn around and come face to face with the man that approached you.
And wouldn’t you know it, it’s Aaron, your best friend from childhood. Happiness immediately floods your body. You haven’t seen or heard from him in so long, not that there was a bad falling out, you two just grew apart. But it’s still good to see him, he was a part of so many happy memories when you were a kid.
“Oh my god!” You repeat, your eyes widen. Both of you outstretch your arms at the same time, going in for a hug with smiles on your faces. “Aaron, it’s so good to see you! We haven’t talked in so long.”
“I know,” He says remorsefully, sporting a sheepish grin that you match. “I’m sorry about that. You were my best friend.”
“Hey, it’s not your fault, okay? It was both of us.” Your reassurance seems to put him at ease, and you fall into an easy conversation, catching up on your lives and reminiscing on your younger years and the trouble you both got into.
“Remember when Anthony tripped you for saying no to his marriage proposal?” Aaron asks with a chuckle, and you let out a laugh at the memory.
“Well, we were seven and at that time all boys had cooties, so I’m not sure why he thought I’d say yes.”
“Princess.” Bucky says from behind you, and you turn around to see him holding a glass of bourbon with slightly furrowed brows.
“Oh, Bucky!” You exclaim, reaching out for him and tugging him closer. “This is Aaron, we used to be the best of friends when we were kids.”
“I know Aaron,” Bucky says cooly, wrapping his arm around your waist possessively. When you look back at your friend, you completely miss the anger in Bucky’s eyes. “We went to the same college. I was a TA for a few of his first year classes.”
Your eyebrows shoot up, and you look between Bucky and Aaron with a quizzical look.
“Really? Wow, the world is small.” You laugh softly, as does Aaron.
Bucky stays silent. In fact, he stays relatively quiet for the entire interaction, letting you and your friend reconnect for what feels like hours. Eventually, though, all the champagne you’ve drank has gotten to your system and the need to pee hits you straight in the gut. Extracting yourself from Bucky’s hold, you tell the men that you’re going to the bathroom, and kiss Bucky’s cheek before turning and walking towards the hallway that leads to it.
And while you’re in the bathroom, you’re ruminating a little on your conversation, and an unpleasant feeling settles in your stomach when you finally register all the compliments Aaron was throwing your way and how Bucky’s grip would tighten with each one. But you saw his wedding ring, so you’re sure he doesn’t have an ulterior motive. Maybe he just genuinely wants you to know you look nice.
However, when you get back to the ballroom and scan the crowd, you see Bucky’s back as he faces your friend. Aaron has a smug smirk on his face, his hands in his pockets, and his posture relaxed. He doesn’t seem phased by whatever Bucky is saying, making you curious as to what they’re talking about. When you get a few feet behind them, you start to hear it.
“…So leave her alone, okay? She’s taken.” Bucky’s voice is deep, using what you’ve deemed his Important CEO voice.
“I don’t know about that,” Aaron says, and the unpleasant feeling grows. “She didn’t seem to mind that I was flirting with her. Plus, what are you, like, seventy? You’re way too old for her, grandpa. She’s going to leave you eventually.”
Anger flares up in your body, your eyes filling with fire and your heart filling with rage at his degrading comments. Bucky is perfect. He’s kind, respectful, funny, the whole nine yards. So someone insulting him, especially about your age gap which you know he’s already a little self-conscious about.
“She’s my girl,” Bucky reiterates sharply, and you can see his hand tighten around the now empty glass he’s holding. Quite frankly, you’re surprised it hasn’t shattered. With the short pause in their conversation, you decide now is a time to butt in.
“Bucky,” You say, walking up to him further and placing your hand on his back. You want to yell at Aaron for being so rude, maybe even punch him, but you know causing a scene wouldn’t be a good look. You decide it���s safer to play dumb. “I’m not really feeling good.” Bucky’s eyebrows furrow with worry, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek.
“What’s wrong?” He asks, he’s always taken your well-being seriously, and the affection settles you a little.
“Nothing, I just think I drank a little too much. Do you think we could leave?” You briefly glance over at Aaron, seeing that he’s now looking pissed off.
Good.
“Of course we can, princess,” Bucky says softly, leaning forward and kissing your forehead tenderly. “Come.”
You don’t bother saying goodbye to Aaron, you don’t even glance at him as you let Bucky tug you along to the car. You’re starting to get worried with each step you take because you can see that he’s tense while at the same time despondent. He’s never said anything about your age gap bothering him, but you can be observant. You’ve noticed that lately he’s been a little timid when telling anyone how old he is when you’re around, almost like it just drives home the point that you’re so far apart in age and causing others to judge and sneer at both of you. He gets a little shifty when someone comments on it or makes a passing joke, and you always try to reassure him without outright saying that you know.
When you get to the car, he opens your door for you, going about the usual routine of buckling you in and kissing your cheek before shutting the door and going around to his side. Things are quiet and tense the whole drive to Bucky’s penthouse, he’s not even holding your hand or resting his on your thigh like he usually would. It upsets you, and you want so badly to ask what he’s feeling, to tell him that it’s okay because you genuinely do care for him and that Aaron was out of line for saying the things he did.
Again, you can’t seem to find the words.
You still don’t speak when you get to his place. Getting out of the car, the walk into the building, and the elevator ride up to his floor all go about in silence. It’s not until you get into his kitchen that he says anything.
“Are you happy with our arrangement?” He asks as he hands you a glass of water, and the question physically hurts you.
“Of course I am,” You say, even though it’s a complete lie. In reality you want to actually be with him, but you’re still deciding on if you want to tell him. “Are you not?”
Bucky doesn’t say anything, and a pit forms in your stomach. Is he really not happy with you? He told Aaron you were his girl, but his silence to your question is deafening.
“So you wouldn’t prefer to actually be in a relationship?” He asks tentatively, putting his hands in his pockets and looking at the ground as though it’s the most fascinating thing in the world. “There are plenty of men out there that would love to have you as theirs.”
That stabs at your heart, and you have to force the tears from forming in your eyes. That ‘plenty of men’ comment crushes you, because it just proves to you that he doesn’t see himself actually being in a relationship with you.
“No,” You say after a moment, now looking down at your hands to hide your sad eyes in case he looks at you again.
Everything is quiet for a long while, anxiety bubbling up and threatening to spill. You’ve never felt this way about anyone else, never felt this type of all consuming love for another person, and you don’t want to lose it.
It seems like you might, tonight.
“Um,” Bucky says after a while, clearing his throat. “I can, uh, take you home if you’re still not feeling good.” This time tears do form in your eyes. You don’t want to leave, but it seems like he’s pushing you out as politely as he can.
You know what you need to do.
“If you want to end our arrangement, I understand.” Your voice is soft but thick with how hard you’re trying not to cry. “If you want to be with someone else, it’s okay.” It’s not, not really. But you know it’s not your right to demand that he stay with you if he doesn’t want to.
“I don’t want to be with anyone else,” He confesses hesitantly, and you can feel his gaze boring holes into you. You hear his shoes pad along the carpet until they appear in your line of sight. His hand rests on the back of your neck, guiding your head up to look at him through tears. “But I’m too old for you. You need someone younger, someone better suited for you than I am.”
“You’re perfect for me,” You blurt out despite your better judgment. “You’re not ‘too old’, and there’s no one better suited for me than you. We get along, don’t we? Don’t you at least like my company?”
“I love your company.” Both of you pause, and this time a spark of hope ignites in your heart. “I love you.”
His soft admission causes you to gasp, and your anxiety completely fades away.  Now that you know his feelings, you’re not going to let him push you away.
“But- “
“But nothing,” You say, standing up on wobbly legs due to your heels. Bucky immediately reaches for your waist to steady you, and they don’t drop when you’re upright. “Even if it’s difficult, if we love each other, it’ll be worth it.”
“You love me?” Bucky sounds shocked, his eyes widening almost comically, though hopefully.
“I do,” You whisper, tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear and then cupping his cheek in your palms. “I love you, Bucky. You. Not anyone else. I don’t care how old you are because we connect. We understand each other like I know no one else can.”
Bucky sighs, relieved, and leans forward to rest his forehead on yours. Slowly, he leans down further until his lips are hovering right over yours, but not taking the plunge. Only when you whine does he actually kiss you. It’s not all tongues and teeth and clashing and intensity, it’s warm and passionate and loving, it’s perfect. You kiss for what feels like forever, your lips gliding against each other as you soak each other in. After a while, Bucky pulls away, though only enough to once again hover over his mouth over yours.
“You really love me, princess?” The tenor in his voice shifts the mood, the way he pulls you flush against his body so you can feel the hard outline of his bulge.
“I really love you, daddy.” You smile, as does Bucky, before he suddenly leans down and grabs the back of your thighs so he can lift you up, making you wrap your legs around his waist.
He stares into your eyes the entire walk to his bedroom, and you almost want to cry with how happy you are. The brief angst of almost losing what you have is gone, replaced now with love and lust. He gently sets you down on the floor, wasting no time yet at the same time taking great care of undressing you, sliding your dress off as he presses kisses wherever he can reach. You’re whimpering, your need bubbling up and threatening to make you cry with frustration. You always get a little dumb with Bucky in the bedroom, easily going under until all you can think of and focus on is Bucky.
You look at Bucky while he lowers himself to his knees, putting your hands on his shoulders to steady you as he takes off your heels. He places kisses on your thighs, spreading your legs a little so he can brush his nose along your pubic bone and inhale your scent.
“Fuck, you smell so good,” He groans, his tongue darting out and forcing its way through your folds to tease your clit. And you’re extremely thankful you went without panties tonight.
“Daddy,” You whine, shifting forward into Bucky’s mouth, but he retreats as soon as you do. “Please.”
“Don’t worry, princess,” He murmurs, standing back on his feet. And, even though you want to tear his clothes off, you also don’t want to ruin the serenity of the moment. So you’re slow when taking Bucky’s clothes off, also kissing him and relishing in his pleased sighs and quiet moans.
“Da-“
Bucky cuts you off with a kiss, once again taking you into his arms so he can lay you gently on the bed. He climbs on top of you, continuing to kiss you until you’re breathless and only vaguely aware of Bucky’s hand creeping up your inner thigh until you’re gasping into his mouth due to his thumb settling right against your clit.
“Say it again,” He demands, and you know what he wants to hear.
“I love you.” At that, he rubs his thumb in slow circles, dipping one finger into your aching hole in one fluid motion. You moan loudly, arching your back slightly and pressing your breasts against Bucky’s chest.
He doesn’t speed up his movements, is methodical in how he takes you apart just with his hands. While he fits a second finger in your pussy he starts massaging your breast, pinching and rolling your nipple as he kisses and sucks and nibbles at your jaw and neck, no doubt leaving marks of ownership that you’ll wear proudly.
He continues his gentle movements, only speeding up slightly when he notices your pleasure is growing.
“Fuck, princess, need you to cum so I can be inside you.” His begging only gets you more worked up and you’re so close you can taste your release. “Please, cum.”
And you do, letting go with a wail that Bucky swallows with his mouth. He fingers you through your orgasm, only stopping when you start whining at the sensitivity.
“Daddy,” You say, though you’re not sure exactly what you want to say.
“What do you need, princess?”
“You.” Your response is immediate, and you see Bucky’s features soften. “Always you. Only you.”
Bucky groans and hurriedly situates himself between your spread legs. He reaches between his legs and grasps his cock, hissing at the pleasure before he guides himself to your entrance. With a loving look into your eyes, he smiles and says, “I love you.”
And that’s all the preamble needed for Bucky to push in, slowly stretching you and splitting you open until you’re fully speared on his cock. You can’t do much more than grasp his shoulders, pulling him flush against you so all you can feel, smell, and see is Bucky, your love. He stays still for a moment, letting both of you adjust, simply staring into each other’s eyes as though you can’t get enough of it.
“Please move, daddy.”
He does, pulling his hips back and then thrusting forward, forcing a moan from your mouth. He does it again and again until he’s worked up a steady rhythm, making love to you and worshipping you with his mouth, his hands, and his words. He’s praising you endlessly, telling you how beautiful you are, how much he loves you, how lucky he is that you want to be his.
You don’t realize you’re crying until Bucky’s lips ghost over your cheek and catch a tear, shushing and cooing at you.
“Princess, fuck princess, I love you so much. You feel so fucking good around me, you’re fucking perfect, you know that? The only one for me for this life and any others I live.” Bucky doesn’t stop there, he keeps telling you sweet things and thrusting his hips and nailing your special spot with each one.
“I’m gonna cum, daddy!”
“Hold it,” He says, fucking you a little faster. “Cum with me.”
You whine, and you desperately want to cum, but if Bucky doesn’t want you to then you won’t. So, you hold off as best as you can, resigning yourself to simply feeling, sinking into the pleasure and your head going fuzzier and fuzzier until you’re vaguely aware of Bucky’s desperate and husky voice ordering you to cum.
Through tears, you cry out as your orgasm washes over you, gripping Bucky like a lifeline as he spills inside of you. It lasts eons, flames igniting your skin as both of you share such a special moment. When you finally come down from your high, Bucky is clearly trying not to collapse on top of you, causing you to giggle.
“What’s so funny?” He asks, teasing.
“Nothing,” You assure, now rubbing up and down his back. “I’m just happy.”
Bucky sighs, smiling softly before leaning down to kiss you chastely. Carefully, he rolls you both over so you’re now lying on top of him with his cock still lodged deep in your pussy, keeping his release in place.
“I’m happy too,” Bucky confesses, smiling wider when you do. You both go quiet for a long while, you’re resting your head on his chest and he’s rubbing your back and sides, reveling in the love you share. When you yawn, Bucky chuckles, kissing the top of your head.
“Go to bed, princess. I’ll make us breakfast in the morning.”
“M’kay,” You mumble, nuzzling his chest and kissing over his heart. “I love you.”
“I love you too, princess,” Bucky murmurs, kissing you again. “I love you too.”
You sleep better than you ever have, happier than ever knowing that no matter how hard things get, you have Bucky by your side, and that alone will make things easier.
-
main taglist: @lilyalone @crazyunsexycool @goldylions @yeehawbrothers @buckyssweetheart @buckysprettybaby @sushiseoks @heytheredelulu @somnorvos @ozwriterchick @pxgeturner @gentlelimerence
bucky taglist: @brookeleclerc @justsebstan @myfavbuckyfics
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sushiyuzu · 15 days ago
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干爹
- second acc: @blushpawss
sugardaddy!sylus takes you to a high-end boutique in the city. the staff greet him by name, treating him like a regular customer. he insists that you pick out whatever you like, and when you hesitate, he gently nudges you forward with a reassuring smile. you try on several outfits, and each time you come out of the fitting room, his eyes light up. he makes you feel like you’re the most beautiful person in the world. after you choose something, he pays without a second thought, holding your hand as you leave the store with shopping bags in tow.
sugardaddy!sylus surprises you with a reservation at one of the city’s most exclusive restaurants. the atmosphere is elegant, with soft lighting and expensive decor. he pulls out your chair before you can sit, treating you with such care. the menu has no prices listed, but he doesn’t even glance at it before ordering the best dishes for both of you. throughout dinner, he listens attentively, smiling at your stories while reaching across the table to hold your hand. the night feels magical, and you realize just how much he enjoys spoiling you.
sugardaddy!sylus invites you to spend the weekend at his private villa by the beach. the house is enormous, with high ceilings, a pool overlooking the ocean, and every room decorated with style and comfort in mind. you explore the villa together, and he leads you to the balcony where there’s a perfect view of the sunset. you sit together, wrapped in a warm blanket as the breeze brushes by, and he tells you about his favorite memories of the place, promising that he’ll make many more with you here.
sugardaddy!sylus surprises you with a beautifully wrapped box. inside is a piece of jewelry—something elegant and understated, yet incredibly precious. he explains that it’s not just expensive, but it has a deep meaning to him, maybe something that belonged to a rare item he found on his travels. he gently fastens the necklace or bracelet around your wrist, his fingers brushing against your skin. you can see the emotion in his eyes, and you know it’s not just about the money; it’s about what you mean to him.
sugardaddy!sylus wakes you up early one morning with a mischievous smile and tells you to pack a bag, hinting at a surprise. before you know it, you’re on his private jet, sipping a glass of juice while the plane soars above the clouds. he doesn’t reveal the destination until you’re almost there, teasing you the whole way. when you land, it’s a beautiful, remote island or a charming city you’ve always wanted to visit. he’s planned everything down to the smallest detail, and you can’t help but feel amazed by his thoughtfulness.
sugardaddy!sylus invites you to be his date at a high-society gala, where everyone is dressed in their finest. he sends a designer to your home with several elegant gowns, letting you choose the one you like the most. the night of the event, he picks you up in a sleek car, looking handsome in his tailored suit. as you arrive, all eyes are on you both, and he keeps you close, introducing you to important people. despite the grand setting, he makes sure you’re comfortable, always keeping you by his side, his arm around your waist.
sugardaddy!sylus arranges a private evening on his yacht, the boat anchored just off the coast. the deck is set up with soft cushions, fairy lights, and a candlelit dinner waiting for you. he steers the yacht himself, guiding it through calm waters under a sky full of stars. after dinner, he turns on soft music, and you dance together under the night sky, the gentle rocking of the boat adding to the moment. he pulls you close, his voice soft and gentle as he tells you how much he treasures nights like this with you.
sugardaddy!sylus wakes up in a soft, oversized bed in a beautiful hotel suite. the sunlight streams in through sheer curtains, and sylus is there, already awake, bringing you a tray of breakfast with fresh fruit, pastries, and your favorite drink. he’s wearing a robe, his hair slightly messy, looking relaxed and happy. you both enjoy breakfast in bed, laughing and talking without a care in the world. it’s a morning filled with gentle touches and quiet moments, the kind that you wish could last forever.
sugardaddy!sylus decides to treat you to a day at a high-end spa. the atmosphere is calm, with soft music and gentle scents in the air. you both enjoy a couple’s massage, side by side, feeling the stress melt away under the hands of expert masseuses. after that, there’s a private hot tub just for the two of you, with rose petals scattered on the surface. you lean back against him, the warm water soothing your body, and he whispers how happy he is to see you so relaxed.
sugardaddy!sylus takes you to a private cabin in the mountains for a winter getaway. the cabin is luxurious yet cozy, with a roaring fireplace and a view of snow-covered trees. one evening, a snowstorm hits, and you’re both stuck inside. sylus wraps you in a thick blanket, sitting by the fireplace with hot cocoa. you play a board game, talk, and watch the snow fall, feeling like the rest of the world is miles away.
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heavysighing-dreamyeyes · 3 months ago
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Just Friends
Or three times people mistake you and Jason as partners, and one time you let them think that on purpose. ~1.4k words
Jason Todd is your best friend. You just can't quite convince people of that. It happens more often than is good for your heart, people assuming that you and Jason are anything more than friends. Each time it makes your heart race, your face feel warm, and you have to remind yourself later that it isn't more, no matter if what you feel for him is. 
"You two look at each other just like my husband and I did when we were young. It's so nice to see such a lovely couple." The elderly woman tells you and Jason kindly, voice warm as she pats Jason's arm. She's come up to the two of you while you were picking over the novels in the bookstore, eyes full of reminiscent memories.
Jason reacts quicker than you can, draping an arm around your shoulder to pull you closer. "We are, aren't we? Thank you, ma'am." 
She beams at him, and you nod weakly along with his words. "So lovely." She mumbles as she walks away. 
"Jason," You hiss quietly, "did you seriously just lie to that sweet old lady?"
"What? It made her happy." He counters, lazily smiling at you, still tucked comfortably under his arm.
You make a face at him and tut, moving to pull away. "Still a lie."
"Ah ah," Jason tuts back, and his grin becomes more playful, "gotta keep up appearances now."
You huff and duck your head to focus on looking for books, "Wouldn't have to if you weren't a liar." He laughs, and if your heart beats a little faster for the rest of the time you're in the store, neither of you mention it.
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Jason is twirling you around the dance floor of the latest Wayne Gala, your favorite fancy outfit swaying with each movement. It's always fun, to dress up with him. It's not always so fun to hear Gothams elite talking about you.
"Isn't that the Wayne boy? Todd or something?" An older man asks, champagne in one hand.
"Hm? Oh, yes." The lady beside him responds.
"And his partner?" He asks, sounding completely uninterested.
"I can't remember their name. They've been together for as long as I can remember. Though, it is always lovely to see them, isn't it? It is so rare for the Wayne family to be all here." The woman answers idly, and you miss the rest of the conversation as Jason leads you away.
"Hey," He cuts into your thoughts when you miss a step, lost in thought over if all of Gotham thinks you're dating Jason. He pulls you a little closer to his chest to keep you from falling, fingers splayed over your back. "Where'd you go?"
His words bring you back to the present, and you look up to meet his gaze and lie, "Just thinking about how stuffy these things can get."
He clearly doesn't believe you, but doesn't press as he leads you around the dance floor, "Wanna go then?"
"No," You tell him, giving into the urge to rest your head against his chest, screw what anyone else thinks, "I like dancing with you."
He says your name so tenderly you nearly miss your steps again, "I like dancing with you, too."
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"Todd, your girlfriend is here." Damian calls as he opens the door to Wayne Manor for you. You laugh a little, surprised but happy to see Damian making a joke about your arrival. You feel a little awkward sometimes, joining in on their family dinners, but Bruce assures you you're more than welcome. And Jason swears if you don't go, neither will he. 
"C'mon on, Damian, you know Jason and I are just friends." You smile as you talk, voice light as you step into the grand mansion. 
Damian frowns, "But Jason said–"
"Shut it, brat." Jason cuts in, practically bounding down the hall to get to your side.
He places a steady hand at the small of your back, shooting Damian a warning look as he guides you down the hall and to the dinner table.
The moment passes before you can ask about it, read into it. You're distracted by calls of your name and bombardments of excited questions from Jason's family as you enter the dining room. 
Dinner is delicious, as always, and when you end up sleeping over in Jason's room for the night, clad in his extra clothes, you forget to bring it up. 
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Jason doesn't mind when people mistake him and his best friend for partners. In fact, he kind of loves it. It's good for you to hear, he thinks, because the more you hear it, the more used to it you'll become. 
He knows you don't notice the way he looks at you, and he can't decide yet if it's because you don't believe he could look at you like that, or if you're choosing to ignore it for some reason beyond him. 
Jason also knows that you like him. He just doesn't know if you're exactly aware of that fact yet.
He supposes it doesn't really matter, it's probably for the best you don't see how his face pinches when someone goes to flirt with you, how his shoulders tense and his skin pricks. 
The guy that came up to you while he was grabbing your coffee orders seemed innocent enough at first, until he said something Jason didn't quite hear from across the room. But he did see the way you stiffened. 
He's over at your side in an instant, one hand hooking around your waist to pull you securely against his side, balancing the tray of drinks and baked goods in the other. "Everything okay here, babe?" He drawls, eyes sharp. He wonders if you know that if you said the word, he'd jump this creep in this quiet, little Café right now. 
He settles when you lean into him, and answer without a shake in your voice, "Yeah, I'm okay."
"Good." He says casually, taking the chance to trace his thumb back and forth across your hip. "This guy botherin' you?"
"No!" The stranger cuts in, clearly a little intimated. 
'As he should be' Jason thinks before, lowering his voice to a threat and narrowing his eyes at the man. "I wasn't talking to you." His gaze and voice softens as he looks down to check on you. "Was he bothering you, baby?"
He can't help the smirk on his face when you actually seem to look proud. "Only a little, honey."
He has to actually force his eyes to leave your smile and look back at the man. "You bothering my date?"
The man steps back, "No– no, I mean, I didn't know they were with you– I– uh–" He stutters out, frantically looking between the two of you before turning and high tailing it out the door.
He nearly doubles over in laughter with you, careful to keep the drinks from spilling.
"That was kinda mean." You choke out between one giggle and the next, wiping mock tears from your eyes. He thinks it might be the nicest sound he's heard today. 
"Eh, he deserved it for being weird to pretty patrons of coffee shops. What'd he say?" He says, reaching out to pick an invisible string from your hair. It's an excuse to keep touching you, and his eyes go fond when you lean slightly into his touch. 
"Just something about taking me out for a drink," You answer, laughing while you grab your drink from him. "You're sweet, you know that?"
"Only to you." He says, eyes following your movements.
You hum, noncommittal. "You're sweet to other people, sometimes."
Jason laughs, hooking your free arm with his, "Sometimes," He relents, guiding you both out of the shop and back into the street, "But, I'm sweetest to you."
Pride blooms in his chest when you light up at his comment, "You should keep at that."
He grins, and swears to himself he will. "I'll keep that in mind, doll." 
It's a little thrilling, how when you have to unhook your arms to walk the crowded streets of Gotham, you take his hand. He squeezes your fingers, and it's satisfying that it's so easy to mistake you as his, especially in this moment.
He'll bring it up to you eventually, the idea of being more, but he's content with easing you into it, with watching how you try to make excuses for why everyone believes that you're together. How you try to convince yourself you aren't more. But, you are more to him, so much more. You always will be.
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b1gtimerush · 1 year ago
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set the scene setting prompts (but a little more specific) from yours truly.
001, a convenience store past midnight.
002, a hospital waiting room at 3 in the morning.
003, a photoshoot outdoors in the middle of winter.
004, an indoor filming set of a detective's office.
005, a new house/apartment filled with unopened cardboard boxes.
006, a swing set in an empty playground at night.
007, on stage in an empty theatre.
008, inside an old abandoned house.
009, an empty cemetery at night.
010, the arrival hall at an airport.
011, the last train compartment that's not full.
012, the roulette table in a casino.
013, on the deck of a cruise ship.
014, a kitchen during a black out, surrounded by candles.
015, a treehouse in the middle of the woods.
016, on the dance floor during a wedding.
017, behind the chapel before the wedding ceremony starts.
018, backstage during the middle of a concert.
019, a crowded club during a bachelorette party.
020, standing in front of a painting at a museum.
021, a small, intimate family barbecue.
022, a gazebo while it's raining.
023, the back of an empty bus.
024, a hotel room with only one bed.
025, an empty balcony while a party goes on inside.
026, a bar just after closing.
027, an empty sports stadium.
028, lakeside while the sun is setting.
030, an empty stretch of road beside a broken down car.
031, in front of a suspicious pool of blood in an empty parking lot.
032, in the crowd of spectators during an underground fight.
033, a plane during a bout of turbulence.
034, on kiss cam at a sports game.
035, at a table during a charity gala.
036, a masquerade ball.
037, a halloween party in a suburban house.
038, the beach in the late afternoon.
039, a dressing room after a big performance.
040, exploring the depths of a mysterious cave.
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ohthewh0rror · 1 year ago
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WE ABOUT TO KISS RIGHT NOW?
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˚₊ ⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆ ₊˚ prompt — Just some tidbits of fluff for whichever slytherin boy you pick. You’ve got three choices: Mattheo (the childish one), Tom (who has never felt the touch of a woman), or maybe Theo (resident lover boy).
Pairing: Tom Riddle x Reader / Mattheo x Reader / Theo x Reader
Word Count: 848
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Tom R.
Truthfully, the sight was mildly unsettling. Tom was a very composed individual, never a hair out of place and always impeccably dressed. So seeing him now, as he sat in the furthest corner of the shop where he worked, his elbows resting on his knees as he rested his head in his hands was…concerning. His slender, pale fingers slid up to his dark curls and gripped his hair at the root.
Tom, who seemed untouchable and almost god-like, suddenly looked human. It was the first time you had ever seen Tom display a genuine emotion, his usual facade slipping away. You weren’t sure what to do, as your friendship was fairly new. You weren’t sure how he was going to respond to your attempt at comforting him, but you figured that as long as you left here in one piece, you’d count it as a win.
You placed a gentle hand on his knee, and took in a breath to steady your nerves before you decided to speak. “We don’t have to talk, I just wanted to let you know that I’m here…in case you do want to.” It was another few seconds of silence before Tom sat up and one of the hands that was once holding his head up came to rest on top of your’s. As his fingers curled around your hand, you saw the ghost of a smile on his face, and a look of mild appreciation in his eyes.
Bringing your hand up to his lips, he placed a loving kiss on your palm, before getting out of his seat without a word, leaving you awestruck in the back of the desolate store.
Mattheo R.
"Hey, there's something on your lips?" Mattheo gestured to your mouth, there was a smirk on his face, the same one he gets when he’s trying to mess with you. You were skeptical, not knowing if you should trust him, but you didn’t want to continue walking around with something on your lips either just in case he was being honest. “Really?” Your hand came up, fingers about to swipe whatever was there off, when Mattheo caught your wrist. “What are you—” your question was cut off as Mattheo’s lips connected with yours.
The kiss was short and sweet, almost a peck, leaving you secretly wanting more from him. Mattheo pulled away slightly, eyeing your lips, “I think it’s still there,” he mumbled. You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you, feeling your face grow hot. You playfully shoved him away from you, trying to put some space between you in hopes of gathering what little self control you had in you to resist the urge to kiss him again.
“I can't stand you,” was all you said as you attempted to get away from the flirt you called your boyfriend.
Theo N.
“Would it be weird if I kissed you? be honest,” was what Theo greeted you with as he came to stand next to you, a warm hand resting on your back. Though you tried to put on an annoyed front, you were glad he decided to come keep you company; even if it was to tease you. Everyone knew the crush you’ve had on him since 5th year, you were sure even Theo has figured it out by now. And, to be honest, it was almost embarrassing. You’d hoped after graduation your feelings would fade, as you’d see less of him, but the distance seems to have only made it worse.
“Honestly? yes,” it almost killed you to say that, but it was the truth. The two of you hadn’t seen each other in two months and you were also currently attending a charity gala. A kiss between two people who were not together, standing in the middle of an important event, would be all anyone talked about for the next few weeks. There was a pregnant pause, neither of you saying anything, Theo seemingly lost in thought as he stared at you.
“Hey, Y/N?” You heard Theo ask, trying to get your attention as you had looked away from him, trying to distract yourself from the pounding of your heart. You hummed in acknowledgement, and when Theo said nothing, you turned your head to look at him. Well, that was the plan anyway, but as you turned your head to face him Theo met you halfway.
You weren't sure what you thought your first kiss with Theo would be like, but even you could have never guessed it’d be so passionate. In the distance you could hear the flashing of a camera and rabid whispering, but you could care less.
You’ve been waiting for the moment for years, and you refuse to let anything ruin it.
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henneseyhoe · 6 months ago
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Daddy’s Money.
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Lewis Hamilton x BLACK!FEM!Reader.
WARNINGS:lil bit of nasty smut, brief one sided relationship, lewis being pussy whipped, reader is heavily implied to be a gold digger(she is but shhhh! let her rock frl), daddy kink, money making reader hornayyy(me asf), not edited(idc rn i’m sleepy), there MIGHT be plot holes(again, i’m sleepy) and das it i think.
ps. also i’m ngl i wrote this halfway lazily, i just wanted to get back into writing sooo yeah.
✮✮✮✮
The arrangement was really an accident (at first). You were hired to fit and dress the man after practically begging for the job, needing the money to jump start your fashion career since your father had cut you off the month prior. It’d take nearly five years to do so, but with someone as easy going as lewis, time would fly fast.
Eventually he grew fond of you, and you of him..him a bit (a lot) more than you actually. Months after getting hired he began bringing you around for things that wasn’t about his style, things that someone would do for a budding romance. You didn’t mind either, it was working in your favor getting the extra hours to do nothing. You didn’t mean to snag a sugar daddy, a famous one at that, just like you didn’t mean to fuck him before the met gala, damn near making him late. It just…happened; Which is what you’d say to judgy bitches.
You also didn’t mean to point out that midnight black bag (and a few other things) you had been wanting when shopping for him the week after the met. Those things mysteriously showed up on your door step two days later to your surprise. You were beginning to think he was a little generous…so you tested something out.
“Ugh! Wouldn’t this look so good on me?”
You pout as you held the designer dress up to your body. It was originally intended to go to another woman they paired him with for an event, but seeing it up against you instead was all he had to see before he told his assistant to inform the woman she’d be wearing something else. In awe, you proceeded to wear that dress to the event that night, easily gaining eyes from guests and earning yourself a name as Lewis’s “sexy ass stylist” online when the pictures taken of you went viral.
Later on that night the dress was being ripped apart from the back and thrown to the floor by you know exactly who, him doing everything in his power to get to what was underneath.
You couldn’t tell if your pussy was good or if he was just that whipped for you after that night. Either way, you were having fun.
Before you could snap your fingers, whatever you were THINKING of wanting was at your fingertips. He had more money than he could spend, and you had no problem helping him find what to do with it! It was only fair, ya know, for his sake.
The first time you realized he was really wrapped around your little iced out finger was the last time you had wanted for anything for long.
“I could have anything I want? seriously??”
You looked to him in shock, the man shrugging as he debated on a pair of versace shoes. “Have at it, love” He responded simply with a quick endearing smile to you before waving over an assistant to help you. You felt like a kid in a candy store.
^Also the last time you referred to him as anything other than daddy when not in public, (or at least not noticeably to others in public).
He was liquid when you called him that. soft putty in your hands, ready for you to shape him into anything you desired.
“Come on, daddy. Don’t you wanna see your name in diamonds on me? Don’t you wanna mark me? claim me?”
You taunted him in a seductive tone as you rolled your hips onto him. You flipped your hair to one side of your shoulder so you could look back at the work you were putting in, Lewis staring back at you with hearts in his eyes and his bottom lip tucked into his mouth. Both of y’all’s jeans were halfway down with your pretty brown ass perched up for him to see the tip of his long dick teasingly slide between your lips and into your honey coated walls repeatedly. He was right there on the edge, you could feel it and you hadn’t even sat all the way down on him yet.
Really it was either say yes to the chain or be left to make himself cum, he understood that completely. As he nods eagerly in agreement, you plopped your plump self down into his lap and he came as fast as police in white neighborhoods.
By the seventh month of being together your closet was every woman with a fashion sense dream. Designer galore (and not the ugly shit neither). He got you designs that wasn’t on racks yet but straight off a runway, things that fit perfectly to YOUR body. (Seeing that he was getting to know it so well..He could probably draw a map of you with just his damn tongue.)
You began getting way more noticed by his fans and friends, not only for suddenly having a thing for wearing expensive clothes and jewels, but for also being close with Lewis. Dating rumors had started to run amuck. The first plan was to deny, deny, deny but it was hard to do that when you were wearing his name on your neck, hiding the chain under your shirts or wearing it backwards so no one would see the name plate.
But the chain wasn’t what caused the dam to break. It was when you posted bags and gifts with flowers, a card attached that had a heartfelt and flirty handwritten poem on it, forgetting to even scribble out his name. Fans and close friends were on the fence, some of his associates madder than an ant colony in the rain and some fans confused on where the hell you even came from and where you got off on gold digging. The clothes and jewelry were finally starting to make sense and you gave the saying “Look like money” a new meaning.
Lewis was quick to come to your defense in interviews, you had never seen anyone get so nice nasty or petty in your honor. He was witty and quick with comebacks, his polite tone masking rude comments at any interviewer that dared to have an opinion about you that he didn’t like. He made sure as everything went on online and your name trended for the second time that week that you didn’t lack reassurance ever.
“Look in the mirror and let daddy know who’s it is”
He pulls you by your braids up to the direction of the reflecting headboard, your back pressed against his chest as his hips met your ass with a hard smack. After hours of pleasurable “reassurance” there wasn’t a spot inside you that his dick didn’t hit, a place on you that his tongue didn’t lick. The chain you had asked for a bit ago clinked freely against your chest and a fucked out evil smile grew on your face as you look him in the eyes through the mirror. “It’s yours, daddy. you know it’s all yours” You would reply before your walls gushed around his dick.
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Fans who prayed on your downfall weren’t so happy when they got the news that you two married two years later in Greece. The wedding was private, but it was no secret that a fortune was spent and that didn’t make the gold digging comments better. (Even though your father paid)
Those comments followed you into your fashion brand era and though you chose to be mysterious about private life and yourself in general, (for obvious reasons) you felt it was only right to defend your honor at least once.
Like the great actress you were, you did what white women around him had been doing to you since the beginning and threw on the waterworks, crying in front of any watchful eye when the rumors were brought up with your amazing husband by your side comforting you immediately. How dare they say such things about THEE Lewis Hamilton’s wife?? THEE Y/N Hamilton???
Your newly grown fan base called it blasphemy. There wasn’t an online blog on beyoncé’s internet that went untouched when having something to say about you. Everything they said was untrue! You had your own money, your own brand, (funded by your husband) and your own name.
“They’re so mean to me”
You pout as Lewis carefully takes off your heels and kisses the top of your feet before standing and caressing your cheek. “You know how the media is, and I know nothing they say about you is true. I’ll have my team take care of it, okay?” He reassured and you smile, mentally noting to suck his dick before bed. As if you were rewarding a dog for jumping through a hoop, being soft and on your side at all times was Lewis’s hoop, and he had better jump through every. single. time.
To be fair, there may have been some superficial motives behind the building of this relationship (on your side at least) but he genuinely did grow on you, and that was before you knew he was a trick, that part just made it deeper.
You were in shock when he asked you to marry him originally, so much so that you refused the first time because it scared you. You avoided him for an entire week and refused to go to work until you realized you had grown so accustomed to being around him that you could barely function. Apart from the fact that you were opening doors by yourself and eating dinner alone, you hadn’t noticed how much you liked talking to him, being with him and simply in his presence.
Materials aside, you loved him, you were in love with him. Infatuated just as much as he was with you by now and you came too long of a way to be scared off.
In reality you telling him no wasn’t gonna stop him from perusing. He knew you were gonna be his wife for a long time now and nothing was gonna get in the way of him finding you (and he kinda duped you with the whole falling for him thing anyway because he knew what half of your motives were and played his role well), you just found him first and made him pop that question again, which that time you happily said yes to.
✮✮✮✮
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fatkish · 7 months ago
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Imagine being a person with an inccubus/succubus quirk. You feed off of lust and sexual energy, store it, and turn it into healing energy. The HPSC hears about your quirk and hires forces you to basically work as the official Pro Hero, on call, cum dump/living sex toy
Hawks likes to bend you over the nearest furniture and rut into you until he’s emptied his balls completely into you. He loves to edge you and makes you cry from overstimulation. He also books you during his ruts. He loves to leave you tied up and desperate for stimulation.
Endeavor will use you as his own private cocksleeve/cum dump. He’ll either f~~~ you, using his strength to pound into you or bounce you on his cock, or, he’ll have you sit under his desk and suck him off. After he’s done, he’ll have you lick his cock and balls clean of any of your combined juices.
Aizawa and Best Jeanist love tying you up. Best Jeanist will string you up and have you hang from the ceiling like a sex swing. He’ll use his quirk to restrain you and make you swing back on forth on his dick. He’ll make you suck him off and will dress you up like a sexy doll. Aizawa loves making you spit roast him and Hizashi. He’ll edge you with toys and if you have a tail, he’ll pull it. He’ll use your horns as grips to f~~~ your face. Spank you if you waste a drop of his cum.
Imagine being at a Pro Hero gala event of The hero billboard charts. The Commission has you stuck in a wall with your ass and head hanging out in two different rooms in the back. You’re blindfolded so you don’t know who is using you. Any pro can come in and use you. After the event, you can hardly walk from exhaustion<3
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anadiasmount · 10 months ago
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my angel - jude bellingham x reader.
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quick sum: being due to a gala in less than an hour, jude finds out a tiny secret you had, faced with the options of not going or having to cope with an angel that stood beside him all nigh...
wc: 1.2k | masterlist | jude's masterlist
psa🗣️: small fic/ blurb because i could not focus on the other one i was writing... let me know if you'd like a part two bc I have a request that fits perfectly with this one :PPP like always hope you enjoy! 🤍
“baby? you in here? we have to leave soon,” you could hear jude approach the room as you continued to stare at yourself in the mirror. you’d gone out with the girls earlier that day, having breakfast and sharing laughs then went shopping to get new clothes for the year. along with some other products you needed, with that purchase, you had the chance to stop by a lingerie store. you rarely bought the flimsy and intimate fabrics, but when you did, it was always an experience. 
jude’s never seen you in lingerie, just your undergarments when you changed or took off your clothes. when you bought lingerie you kept it hidden and wore it for yourself to feel confident and sexy, you had many sets but the one you wore right now had by far become your favorite. it felt soft and silky, rich and smooth against your skin, not like other fabrics that irritated or felt tight on you. 
it hugged your figure perfectly, pushing your boobs and making them sit pretty in the lacy padded flowery bra, the thong accentuating your hips and waist and giving you the hourglass figure. the thigh lace garters were attached to your waist belt, a thin band going around you, and small suspenders attached to each side. in some way it had elongated your legs, giving you the appearance to look taller, it could also be the heels. 
you could hear jude approach the room way closer, giving you no time to react or change when he walked in. you bit the inside of your bottom lip, fingers pinching the nail beds in your other hand nervous and anxiously, shifting your weight from one foot to another as he stood by the doorway watching you. jude wore a suit, a fitted suit that embraced the built figure that he had grown over the few months, veins decorating his hands as they clenched tightly. 
he slowly approached, his shoes tapping against the tiled floor, fingers coming to his chin as his eyes roamed your almost exposed figure. he had stepped behind you, now looking at your front through the mirror, your eyes meeting full of daze and lust. jude being the public figure he was had been invited to attend a gala, taking you along as his plus one for the evening. the white gown you’d be wearing for the evening hung in the closet, but for now, you wanted to wear this underneath. 
“jesus y/n…” jude croaked, his eyes disconnecting from you as he fully took you in. you could feel his eyes leave traces behind, as they wandered from the lacy flowery bra to your thighs clenched together. “what do you think?” you say lowly afraid of your voice and becoming intimidated by his daze on you. 
“what do i think?” jude took a silencing pause, “you look absolutely beautiful y/n… like an angel, my angel…” jude replied stepping closer to you as he still towered over you, his fingers tracing from your shoulders down to your hips slowly, goosebumps trailing as he touched. his left hand wrapped your front around your waist, jude took your hair and placed it to the side gently, kissing your shoulder softly and peppering kisses to your neck, nibbling your sweet spot, all the places he had access to. 
his heart fluttered hearing you giggle loudly, your hand placed on top of his, “when did you get this? hm?” he asked glancing up to see you cheekily smiling. “today when i went out with the girls! i got it to match with my dress.” 
suddenly jude felt like not going, wanting to stay in to appreciate the goddess he had in front of him in all white. it came as a shock to him when he walked in, he’d never seen you in such intimate loungewear that he couldn't process what was happening. he fell in love all over again, wanting to caress the skin and body you had, appreciating what was his. for the night and forever. 
“did you get this set only? or other ones as well?”
“i got this one only because my old one was just not giving for me,” you scrunched your nose in disappointment, thinking of the old ivory set that was itchy and rough. “hold on, old one?” jude asked his voice spiking up as it came to a surprise. how many sets did you have? and why were they hidden for so long? he asked himself. 
“yes, i have quite a lot in various colors, themes, and designs…” you admit shyly face growing hot, flushing as you have exposed a small secret to your boyfriend. jude couldn't believe that he was hearing, struggling to comprehend the fact you had lingerie all this time, it wasn’t a bad thing, quite frankly the opposite. his innocent girl wasn't so shy. if this was just one of the sets, he could picture the other ones you had. “yeah, we’re not going tonight.”
“jude what? we have to,” you laugh as he slowly turns you around, now chest to chest. although it was impossible, you could feel his heart beat faster as he stared down at you. you looked angelic as he previously said, your eyes giving the impression of a cat eye by the false lashes, lips full and plump by your red lipstick, and cheek contoured by the blush to highlight the details of your face. 
beautiful was one of the words jude thought, others he couldn't fully say by being mesmerized by you. 
you let his hand wander down to your bum, feeling as he gave it a soft squeeze, fitting perfectly in his palm. “how do you expect me to go out knowing you’re wearing this underneath?” jude asked, kissing the bridge of your nose. “it’s going to drive me mad, angel. i could take you here right now and show you what i think of this,” he said deeply referring to the lingerie. 
“but you won’t because we have a place to be at in less than an hour,” you say teasingly, your thumb tracing his facial features, jude relaxing to your touch on him. “you’ll just have to let it drive you mad because we're not going to do a single thing until were back here,” you state firmly, making jude smirk. your hands traveled from his muscles down to his chest to fix the tie that was loose, jude watching your every move. 
“you are going have to deal with it, the things you wanna do, hear, all that for the whole night. picture it, me and you, me wearing this while you make me cum? or maybe i am? to give my golden boy his reward?” you tippy-toed whispering into his ear, kissing the lobe as he held your waist firmly, thumbs stroking your sides. 
“maybe you just won't be able to resist it, thinking how i am wearing this over my dress. maybe taking me into a restroom, our car, somewhere hidden or private to satisfy that need… either way, you’ll have to be patient because we’re waiting to come back home to do all that, right?” you continued watching as jude struggled to have coherent words. 
“yeah, we will see about that, angel…”
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aangelinakii · 2 months ago
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BRUCE WAYNE + JEALOUSY.
note : this was requested, and i didn't know if you wanted an imagine or headcanons, but i felt it would be easier as a headcanon sooo here we are :)
not proofread !
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bruce is not easily "jealousified"
made jealous ?
he's not easily made jealous
he's quite sensible, mature, understanding, all those things
i've gonz into this in detail in the batfam love languages and i will find a way to go into it in every headcanon but bruce really cherishes trust
wants to trust you and wants you to trust him
so, if he trusts you enough, he doesn't doubt for a moment that you're not enabling the guy flirting with you
what i'm trying to say is that he doesn't get jealous of you or anything because he trusts you wouldn't purposely put yourself in a position like that
but he may get jealous ( he says protective, but potato potato ) whzn he notices someone getting overly comfortable with you like
or flirty
he can tell the signs of a flirt even when he's on the other end of the room
he's an ex-serial flirt after all
say you're at an event together, a gala, you're both all dressed up
and you look gorgeous / handsome, he just can't stop looking at you the entire night, even when he's halfway across rhe room
but he's noticed someone else has their eyes on you
i mean everybody there has admired you for a few seconds tonight
but i mesn this guy is like
looking likz they're about to approach
and bruce is trying to time it right before he steps in, becquse who knows ? maybe he's delusional and been imagining it this whole time
( spoiler alert he hasn't !!!!! )
as soon as he sees thzt guy in his rented tux approach you, bruce excuses himself from the conversation he was having with someone to insert himself in this new unwanted one
slings a casual but protective arm around your waist, careful not to snag your attire on his cufflink, and offers the person that award winning smile
they'll back off pretty quick
bruce wayne is nice and all, but any sane person would refrain from getting on his bad side
which is probably why tommy elliot keeps trying to call his office
if in public though, bruce may have some trouble being more assertive
like he doesn't want to make a scene, and he's literallh at the grocery store with you becausz you wanted him along to grab somz ingredients to cook together back at your place
it isn't super obvious who he is at first
a guy in a dallas cowboys cap, his usual white button-up, black trousers and shiny leather oxfords replaced with a white t-shirt, the sleeves tight around his biceps, a pair of jeans and some sneakers he isn't quite comfortable in yet
like that's not bruce wayne is it ???
and who knew he was a cowboys fan ??
he was off in the frozen aisle, contemplating whether to buy a box of ice lollies to share with you after dinner
when he returned to you in the fresh fruits section, a man was talking to you
not bugging you per se, no bullying or harassmzent
but he sees him pull his phone from his pocket and gesture to it
this guy wants your number ????
i think the fuck not
so bruce approaches, acting all casual until he's beside you, frosty box of lollies under his arm, and tips his cap up slightly to reveal more of his face
that alone is enough for the guy to slide his phone back into his pocket
bruce doesn't want to embarrass or shame anybody, but he does know he wants to show the world how important you are to him
it's not your fault everybody wants you so bad !!
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nicromancytarot · 7 months ago
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HOW WILL YOU MEET YOUR FUTURE SPOUSE?
This is a general reading based on a collective of people. Take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. If you don’t feel the pile resonates with you, don’t be scared to try another, if it still doesn’t feel right, that’s ok! Maybe our energies aren’t as connected and my readings are not for you.
I do these strictly for fun and educational purposes. I don’t change for these readings and I do not fake readings. I would tell you the cards I got but I pull like 20-30 cards each reading and that just slightly a strenuous task to write them all down lmao.
PICK A CARD READING
I asked my spirit guides how you will meet your future spouse, pick a pile to see what they had to say!
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Pile 1 ———> Pile 2 ———> Pile 3
PILE 1
For you guys I am getting the feeling that you’re at some type of work convention, possibly an important business opportunity. There seems to be a theme of money and work for this pile, I’m getting heavily that this is something that you either didn’t want to go to, or we’re reluctant to attend.
This mindset could have something to do with you possibly being nervous about what this opportunity has in store for you. Some of you may be at some big gala type event trying to build your reputation so you can get more business, or even a promotion. I see someone who is really on the edge of their seat with nerves, they keep topping up their wine glass. I can’t help but notice the outfit that they are wearing, for me I’m seeing a feminine figure, they’re wearing a long gold sparkly dress, apologising for almost knocking over a glass of wine as they pour themself another, this person does seem very anxious lmao.
I think you will be introduced to your future spouse through either a friend, or some older male figure that you work with. For a few of you, you will be really not wanting to meet anyone new during this time, you’ll be stuffing your mouth full of all these delicacies like pastries in order to not have to speak to anyone.
It’s at this point that this masculine comes over to retrieve you, for some it may be your boss, or manager, for others this will be one of your closest friends.
Your future spouse will take control of the conversation when the masculine leaves, they will be quick to bring you into an engaging discussion over possibly something to do with your job. You’ll be very confused as to why you don’t feel uncomfortable around this stranger, some of you may even notice that this is your future spouse since the spark will be there in an instant.
A select amount of you will be asked for your number, or email, something so they can contact you for “business”, this form of contact will absolutely not be used for business lmao.
PILE 2
You guys are really going through the ringer around the time that you meet your future spouse, for some of you, you maybe even be around the age of thirty at this time, the only reason I say this is because it could be your Saturn return which is influencing all this hardship. However, a lot of you will be pretty young, as I’m seeing someone going out to a club/party to go get absurdly drunk.
A lot of you will be going through a really hard breakup during this era of your life, this could be with a partner that you were will for a long while, as I’m getting the feeling that you though this was your forever person. I don’t think you’ve really given yourself much time to heal from this partnership before you go out clubbing to detach from the feeling of aloneness.
For a very select few of you, you may have been cheated on by your partner, and find out only a few days prior to this meet.
You’re going out to feel free and completely out of control of whatever is going on around you, some of your friends might even try to encourage you to leave before something happens, as I do see you trying to cope with your sadness by drinking yourself into oblivion.
A small amount of you will meet your future spouse, eye them up and then take them to the back or to your place, possibly even their place to have some intimate time. So yes, this could start of as a hookup.
Others of you are going to embarrass the hell out of yourselves, I’m seeing some tripping over and falling onto the lap of the other, in another scenario there’s someone falling down some stairs and some other person catching her just before she plummets.
This person may even stay with you to help you sober up lmao, you may confide in this person a little too much and cry to them about your failed relationship while in a drunken state. They could even hold your hair back while you’re busy throwing up #cute.
I’m seeing that they may ask for yours or your friends number so they can check on you later that night, or in the morning.
PILE 3
You guys are also going through something during this time, for some of you it’s a failed situationship which I think you were committed to for a long time, this seems to have come out of the blue, a completely unexpected betrayal.
Whoever the person you were dealing with is, they are the type to say that “labels are pointless”
Others of you were under the impression that you were in a relationship, but instead you were actually in a situationship and your person slept with or got with another person, this caused an uproar and you were quick to make the decision to leave.
For a very, very small amount of you, you possibly got up and left off to another part of the world, wanting to be completely disconnected from this person and their terrible sense of loyalty.
The rest of you are also travelling or on vacation in another country/state etc (depending on where you are stationed) I see that you may go into a store or to a market place and have to ask the clerk/seller for the price of the piece, or possibly you accidentally ask a random person, thinking that they are a worker.
Whichever way this goes, that is your future spouse. They will do their best to help you, if you mistook them for a worker, they will be sure to laugh it off.
I’m seeing someone that you just instantly click with, they may not be your ideal type, but the two of you just make so much sense together.
This person will either say something about your beauty, compliment your style or even the item in your hand, this will then turn into a long winded conversation about whatever it is they have brought up, some of you may give your number, others of you will leave and come back to the store/market place another day while on your trip and meet with this persons again.
Bonus: they have a gorgeous smile.
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bahablastplz · 2 months ago
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All in | Chapter 12
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pairing: Lee Felix x f!reader (mafia au)
summary: You didn't know what you were getting yourself into when you started dating Yang Jungwon, notorious mafia boss. Your life gets flipped upside down when you're found beaten and bloody by SKZ, the rival mafia group, and you're quickly integrated into their lives. What will happen when you try to leave your old life behind and start anew?
chapter summary: Chan takes you on a date and you get to see your sister. You and Felix continue right where you left off the night before.
warnings: please see series masterlist for all warnings
chapter warnings: smut
series masterlist ~~ series taglist ~~ main masterlist
You wish you could convince yourself that this is not a date, not a real one, but it’s so hard to do so with the way that Chan presents himself. He wears a black button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, showing off his forearms. His left wrist is adorned with a golden wrist-watch, a beautiful timepiece that you can practically see your reflection in from how shiny and well-taken care of it is. 
It reminds you of… the necklace he gifted you the night of the gala, the golden rose pendant that still sits around your neck. How had you not noticed it? All along you have been wearing it, a subtle reminder in more than one way that right now, you are the property of Bang Chan. 
And before you had left for your date, Jeongin had gifted you gold earrings to match. It’s what he had bought for you at the store earlier, knocking on your door before you left to tell you, ‘this will match your dress.’ And it does, perfectly. 
The dress you wear tonight is black, reaching all the way down to your ankles. It’s strapless and off the shoulders, framing your waist perfectly. The dress has a gold trim that shimmers in the light, capturing the essence of the jewelry that you hadn’t given a second thought to. You look… 
“Gorgeous,” Chan tells you. He holds out for you a bouquet of your favorite flowers and you try not to think about how he knows they’re your favorite. 
He opens your car door for you and your heart warms a little bit at the gesture before you remember why you’re here. You can’t afford to let your heart be warmed by the man manipulating you into going on a date right now. 
He brings you to the nicest restaurant you’ve ever seen. It’s on a rooftop, and he’s seemingly rented the entire thing out so that it’s only the two of you. The table is candlelit, fairy lights strung around pillars that hang little lanterns above your table. The waiter pours you a very expensive bottle of wine which you sip lightly, not allowing yourself to lose your head. 
“This is nice,” you admit. “Do you take all of your dates here?” 
Chan laughs. “That’s funny.” A beat of silence. “I don’t date.” 
“And why’s that?” 
“My line of work doesn’t really allow time for this.” He waves his hand around in the air.
“But you’ve changed your mind?” 
“I think I’ve made myself very clear that I like you.” You don’t respond. You smile politely and take a small sip of wine. 
The waiter brings out dinner. It’s a full-course meal complete with side dishes and dessert and Chan sees to it that you eat until you’re full. The dinner is nice, albeit a little quiet to start. 
“You seem to care a lot about your sister,” he says at one point. “Tell me about her.” 
“She’s the only family I have,” you tell him. “I know she’s very worried for me. She hated that I dated Jungwon. She thought he was really bad for me but I didn’t listen.” 
He nods along. “Is she older? Younger?” 
“Younger,” you confirm. 
“You’re overprotective of her,” he says. It’s an observation, not a question. 
“I guess you could say that,” you reply. It is the truth after all; ever since you arrived here, you’ve been worried about her safety, wanting to let her know that you’re safe. She is all you have, and when you don’t have a lot it makes sense you want to keep that one thing safe. “I just want to make sure she’s alright,” you tell him. 
“Your sister is safe,” he tells you. “I understand the need to see it with your own eyes, but I wanted to let you know that she’s okay.” 
“You’ve been keeping an eye on her?” You ask. You’re a little surprised that Chan would go out of his way to do so. 
“I have eyes everywhere,” he explains. You suppose that makes sense—why would he go out of his way for you when he could get somebody else to do it for him? You’re lost in thought, and the silence is peaceful. You look over the rooftop at the city, twinkling lights. For a moment you remember that Chan probably owns most of the buildings you can see, and that thought overwhelms you. 
“Do you plan to keep me here forever?” You finally ask. You hate the way your heart pounds hard against your ribcage when you ask. 
“I don’t want you to be a prisoner forever,” he tells you with a grimace. “One day, I hope to give you more freedom once I see that you deserve it. I want you to want to stay with me, with our group.” 
“What if I never do?” You ask timidly. 
“You will,” he says. He gives you a charming smile and you feel uneasy at his words.
“Until then… you’re going to force me to fall in love with you?” 
“I won’t force you to fall in love with me,” he says. The smile is now gone, replaced by a sorrow that looks unnatural on his features. “That’s something you’ll do on your own, one day.” 
“But you’re forcing me to go on a date with you! How is that any different?” you point out. 
“I’m forcing you to give me a chance,” he explains. He looks bashful for a moment, hand scratching the back of his head. “I can see how that may have been misconstrued.” 
You’re silent, staring at him with a forced smile. You’re not even sure what to say. Deep down, you wonder if someone like Chan is even worthy of being loved, worthy of having your heart opened to him. Then you remember that your heart has somehow started to let in Felix after you swore you would never love someone like him. Not after Jungwon. Sometimes, the heart can’t help but want someone that’s bad for you. Jungwon was a prime example of that—a bad omen for what was to come, perhaps. 
The rest of the night is uneventful. You make more small talk, but as you predicted nothing changes the way you feel about him. You don’t tell him so. You’re undecided about Chan, altogether. His worldview confuses you and you don’t like the stronghold he seems to have over… well, everything. You won’t deny that he’s an incredibly attractive and charming man, but you’re starting to see right past it for all of the manipulation he’s done so far. How far would he go to get what he wants? You’re not sure. 
The entire night, you would find your mind drifting to Felix, wondering what he was doing. Reminded of your promise after an interrupted moment the night prior, ‘this isn’t over.’ Just the thought of his hands trailing on your skin and his lips hot against yours has your face heating up but you shake away the thought. You wonder what Chan would say if you told him one of the reasons you wouldn’t give him a chance is because you would rather give that chance to Felix, his right-hand man who has proven himself very deserving of your trust. You would never tell him, of course. You value your life. 
On the drive back, Chan sings along with the radio. You’re tired from the overconsumption of expensive food and a smidge of wine so you don’t notice when you start to drift off. You awake to a hand on your thigh, nudging you awake. You recognize your surroundings—your sister’s house. You’re about to ask how he knows her address when you’re reminded of his words earlier: ‘I have eyes everywhere.’ 
You’re almost expecting Chan to stay in the car when you exit to go knock on her door. Of course he follows you, only a breath behind you at all times. He’s busy checking the time on his watch when you knock timidly on her door, your heart beating out of your chest. After a moment of silence, you look at Chan with furrowed brows and worry evident on your face. You open your mouth to speak to him, but before you can the door creaks open. 
“Y/N?” 
You feel your heart jump in anticipation. When you turn around you see your sister, the first time you’ve seen her in months. Words escape you, they truly do as you jump forward and embrace her in your arms. Tears wet the front of your dress and you’re unsure if they’re hers or your own. It’s all you can do to cradle her in your arms and coo sweet words in her ear, to tell her you’re safe and that you’re so, so sorry. 
“Can… can you come inside?” she asks, eyes flitting between you and Chan standing behind you. You turn your head to look at Chan yourself, asking him silent permission while biting your lip timidly. You don’t really want Chan inside of your sister’s house but you’ll do anything to prolong the conversation. He nods his approval and the three of you step inside. 
“I thought you were dead,” she nearly whispers as she sits next to you on the couch. Your heart pangs in your chest at the thought of leaving your younger sister all alone. Though she is only a few years younger and old enough to have a stable income and a small place of her own, you’ve never given up on the role of protective older-sibling with her. You hate to see her having her own worries about you. 
“I’m not dead. Here I am, I’m safe, I promise,” you tell her. 
“But… Jungwon? He was all over the news,” she explains. This comes as a shock to you–you had expected for the news of Jungwon to be taken care of, to be swept under the rug. Not to be broadcasted all over the nation for everyone to see. You spare a glance to Chan and he simply shrugs his shoulders, nothing more to be said. 
“Yes, there was… there was an altercation,” you say, trying to explain the situation delicately. “And Jungwon died. But Jungwon and I broke up a while ago.” 
Your sister perks up at the news. “A while ago? Why didn’t you tell me? I knew he was keeping you from contacting me so it was about time, but you really did it? You took my advice and got away?” You wince a little bit. In reality, the events that have transpired were so much more complicated than that but you aren’t sure how much time you’ll be given to tell her, Chan looming ominously in the corner with his arms crossed. 
She takes your silence as a response. “That means you’re coming home now though, right?” Her eyes light up for a moment before they dim at your lack of response. “Right?” she repeats again, this time addressed to Chan. 
“I’m afraid your sister has to remain in our care until further notice,” Chan says unapologetically. 
“Your care… Who even are you? I can call the cops, y’know–” she rambles, unaware of the way that Chan tenses up at your words. He opens his mouth for a snide reply that you’re sure will scare your sister to pieces but you cut him off instead. 
“Don’t,” you demand before softening your tone. “Don’t. I just need you to know that I’m safe for now and I can’t come home just yet. I can’t really tell you much more at the moment but if I come home I’ll only be in more danger. Where I’m staying right now… it keeps me safe, and more importantly, it keeps you safe.” You bring your hands up to cup your little sister’s face in your hands, using your thumbs to wipe away her stray tears. “I’ll come back for you as soon as I can, okay? I need you to stay strong though, and stay out of trouble. I love you.” 
You’re fighting back tears of your own. In reality, you’re unsure of when you’ll be able to see her again. This time you got lucky, manipulated into seeing her in the form of an ultimatum. There very well may not be a next time, if Lee Heeseung has a say in anything. But you leave her hopeful and you leave a small part of yourself behind with her. 
─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──
The ride back home is silent and uneventful. You’re sure your demeanor can only be described as pouting but you would never admit it. Chan seemingly has nothing to say as you fight back tears, though you do murmur a slightly ungrateful ‘thank you’ once you’re finally home. When you get to the door, he kisses you chastely on the cheek, close enough that you can smell the petrichor of his cologne. You wait until he is far enough away to rub the essence of his kiss off your cheek, a childish action but one that soothes you nonetheless. 
When you return to your room and close the door, you all but slump to the floor. What you’re not expecting is the sudden grasp on your hips startling you, your eyes shooting open and cursing yourself for your lack of attentiveness. Before you can let out a startled shriek, a hand covers your mouth and you’re met with a pair of warm, chestnut-brown eyes and a sea of freckles sprinkled across Felix’s face. You let out a sigh of relief and slump into his embrace instead, his hand coming to cradle the back of your head. 
“Hi,” you mumble awkwardly into his shirt. 
“Hey,” he replies cautiously, pulling away to inspect your features. “I heard you went on a date with Chris.” He says it not as an accusation but a statement that he already knows to be true, unharmed by it but disappointed. 
“Who told you?” you question. His brow furrows and he hesitates for a moment before giving in. 
“Hyunjin,” he admits sheepishly. 
“I should have known!” you exclaim. “I should tell him to count his days–”
“Woah,” Felix interrupts, his hands falling to your shoulders to ground you. “He wasn’t trying to rat you out. It was more…” he pauses a moment, racking his brain for the right words. “Out of concern.” 
“Concern?” you repeat, unsure of what Hyunjin may have to be concerned about on your behalf. 
“Something about forcing you to go so that you could see your sister?” 
“Right,” you deadpan. “I’m sorry–” 
“Don’t,” he interjects. He lets out a long, sad sigh and his hands move from your shoulders to your waist, pulling you in closer to him. “You have nothing to apologize for. I understand why you made the choice that you did and I’m not angry, alright love? Not at you. Chris, he just has this way of manipulating things to get what he wants, even if it leaves everybody else hurt. You’re what he wants,” he punctuates by swiping a stray hair behind your ear, “and it’s not fair that you’ve got caught up in his mess. In our mess.”
“Felix?” 
“Mm?” 
“Why do you call him Chris?” 
“What do you mean?” he muses, a small smile splayed across his features. 
“It’s just, everyone else calls him Chan but you call him Chris. Why?” 
“Ohhh,” he replies unhelpfully. He thinks a second. “I’ve known him for a very long time. Since childhood, you know? We both grew up in Australia in the slums. I owe a lot to him, honestly, and he won’t let me forget it. We don’t have to get into it now. In fact, I’d much rather get you out of this dress,” he says, pulling you even closer to him. You barely have time to register his words, trying to let your brain catch up with you but you become easily distracted by his hands on your skin. 
His hands trail lower, lower until they’re touching the backs of your thighs and before you can protest he’s hoisting you up effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist. 
“Felix–” 
“I believe we were interrupted yesterday,” he says, his eyes dark and glossy. You breathe heavily when you notice him licking his lips, his tongue poking out gently and suddenly you're crashing your lips against his, messy and breathless and all-consuming. You pull against his soft blonde hair, tugging gently against the roots to hear the breathy moan that escapes his lips. Your tongues collide and you swear you’ve never kissed someone so feverishly. 
You barely notice when he walks backwards with you encased in his arms until he’s falling back against the bed with you now sprawled on top of him, fingers still intertwined in his hair and dress bunched up around your waist. 
You allow yourself a moment to take in the sight of him. A rosy red flush has spread across his cheeks and up to tint his ears the same color; his heart-shaped lips are wet and red around the edges from your ministrations and they’re parted slightly. His otherworldly hair is out of place, flyaway strands present from your pulling and teasing. He looks utterly debauched and it’s all because of you, and you find yourself wanting nothing more than to properly worship him, to trail your fingers lithely across all of the ridges of his muscles and kiss every freckle that appears on his skin. The dark longing evident on Felix’s half-lidded eyes tell you that he’s likely thinking the same thing. 
You kiss him on the lips and then trail down to his jawline, peppering kisses across his neck until you reach his adam’s apple. He lets out a pleased hum as you kiss and lick across his sensitive skin, sucking just hard enough to not leave a mark. He looks conflicted between closing his eyes tight from pleasure and wanting to watch your every action. 
When you reach down to lift his t-shirt over his head he’s eager to help you, revealing his toned and well-disciplined body. You stare at his abs, remembering the first time he trained you when he had teased you by lifting up his shirt, revealing his ‘abs of steel’ with a cocky grin. 
“Like what you see?” he smiles. 
“You know that I do,” you remark. 
You’re not expecting for him to grab your hips to move you forward so that you’re sitting properly on his abs, your clothed core dragging across the ridges of his muscles. 
You can’t hide the shaky moan that leaves your mouth which just encourages Felix to keep on going, his hands guiding you through the motions of rocking back and forth on him. 
“Feels good?” he questions, watching the way you fall apart for him so easily. You nod at him and continue to be stimulated by his actions, a high quickly approaching. His hands reach your thighs and tug at the hem of your dress and you nod, more than eager to help him take the fabric off of you. He laughs when you discard the material by throwing it half across the room but stops himself when he notices you’re now completely bare on top of him except for your underwear. 
“Fuck,” he mutters in a husky low-timbre, his hands reaching to cup your breasts. You reposition yourself so that you’re sitting on top of his bulge, relishing in the shaky sound that leaves his mouth when you grind yourself down on him. “I’ve wanted you from the moment we met, you know,” he says, kissing along your neck as he uses his thumbs to tease your pebbled nipples, pulling and tugging at the skin. “You’ve made it so damn hard not to want you. Teasing me when we were training, in the motel…” 
His gaze is fixed on your chest just above your collarbone and as you’re about to question him until his hand trails up to your neck, grabbing at the chain of your necklace and pulling tight until it snaps, falling broken and limp in his hand. 
“What–” 
“This necklace,” he replies, dangling it in front of your face. A gold rose pendant given to you by Chan the night of the gala is no longer in its place around your neck and you make notice as Felix chucks it across the room. It hits the wall and falls to the floor with a thump. 
“You’re mine, you hear me?” he says softly into your ear. “Not his. Mine.” 
He half-throws you across the bed so that he’s now positioned on top of you, smashing his lips aggressively against yours. You moan into him and wrap your legs around his waist, arching your back as he nips down your neck and chest, eventually wrapping a nipple in his mouth and lightly dragging his teeth against it. You gasp. 
“Fuck, your noises,” he breathes against your skin. “I want to hear you moan for me over and over again. You gotta try to be a little quiet though, yeah? Need those pretty sounds just for me.” 
You nod at him through half-lidded eyes, watching as he grabs and kneads at any available surface, using his hands to map out every inch of your body as if it were the last time he would ever see it. You can’t help the squeak that escapes you when his thumbs hook in the waistband of your underwear, breath heavy and close to the fabric dampening against your skin. 
“Felix,” you exhale shakily. 
“Need to taste you. Please? Fuck,” he says, his thumb pushing into the wetness over your panties. His eyes nearly roll back in his head at the squelching sound it makes. You nod at him and his face is pushed into your panties instantly, licking at your folds over the fabric in a way that can only be described as pornographic. You rock your hips upward, wrapping your thighs around his head and squeezing in an attempt to get the stimulation you desperately seek. He lets out a low, guttural groan at the action, fingertips bruising a grip into your thighs. 
When he actually attempts to take your underwear off this time, your hips are lifting up and shimmying out of the material with his help. In your opinion, they can’t get off of your body fast enough. You both let out twin sighs when he finally finally dives in, beautiful and melodic, in sync with one another. 
His lips connect with your clit, sucking first before exploring the area with his tongue. He’s skilled with his mouth, flicking it up and down and alternating with slow, hard circles. Your hands come up to your mouth to muffle your moans and Felix’s thumbs push into your hip bones in order to still your movements—you hadn’t realized you were rocking your hips into his face to get more friction. 
“Felix,” you moan again, this time to warn him of your impending orgasm. 
“I know, love,” he murmurs, tongue moving from your clit to dip shallowly into your hole. He’s enjoying this just as much as you are, you realize, his hips subtly grinding into the bed to relieve some pressure from his achingly hard bulge. He alternates between eagerly licking and flicking and sucking, and you’re almost there, so incredibly close, that when he reaches up to mindlessly thumb over your nipple you spill over the edge. 
He works you through your orgasm, not stopping his movements or slowing down as you explode against his face. Finally, when your hips stop moving and you’re done pulsing through the aftershocks, he pulls up from your center. His mouth and chin are wet from your release and he wipes his face, thumb swiping away the excess juices from his bottom lip as he looks at you with a shit-eating grin. 
“Fuck,” is the only thing you can say while you catch your breath. 
“What are you—Woah,” Felix says as you climb into his lap. Though he’s still clothed, your wet pussy sits just atop his hard cock, soaking the fabric of his pants. “Watch it. I don’t know how I’m going to control myself if you start something.” 
You nod solemnly, feigning defeat as you crawl off of his lap. Blinking up at him and his heaving chest, you smile devilishly as you bring your mouth down to his sweats, mouthing at his cock over the fabric. He looks down and lets out a shaky breath, winding his fingers harshly in your hair to pull you up and look into his eyes. 
“Y/N,” he warns. 
“What?” you tease. “You don’t want to feel my mouth on your cock?” 
“I… I, fuck, I do. Are you sure?” You palm him over the fabric, wrapping your lips over his length with the barrier of the material over him. When you look up at him through glossy eyes and nod your head at him, it’s like all resolve has left his body. He gives in easily, malleable to you and lifting his hips without protest when you drag down his pants and boxers in one swift blow. 
His cock slaps against his abs, long and pretty and elegant just like the rest of him. When you grip him in your hand he shudders, coming undone easily with little effort. You lick a long stripe up his length, your eyes never leaving his. 
“Do you even know what you do to me?” he murmurs, his hand coming to swipe a strand of hair behind your ear. The gesture is awfully sweet for the situation you find yourself in. 
“You don’t know what you do to me,” you punctuate, gliding your hand up and down his cock. 
“Then tell me,” he breathes. 
“I’ve wanted you since day one. I’ve wanted you to ruin me, wanted you to fuck me so hard I forgot my name.” You suck on his tip, swirling your tongue around it with a pop while you use your hand to work his remaining length. “God, Felix, I’ve wanted you to pound into me, take me from behind, choke me–” 
It seems like that is his final straw because you’re on your back beneath him before you can even register what has happened. He cages you in under him with his arms, eyes darker than before and breath uneven. 
“Felix–” 
“You think you’re so cute, trying to rile me up, hm?” he asks into your ear, his deep voice sending chills down your spine. He nips at your ear, catching the lobe between his teeth and tugging gently; you can feel his warm breath down your neck and it’s no surprise that you’re worked up again. You make to push your thighs together to alleviate that growing pressure but Felix is there within the second, catching your thighs open with his torso and pressing his hips against yours. You can feel his cock against your leg and you can’t help the way your body arches, opens up, begging for him to just push inside. 
“Not trying to rile you up,” you whisper, meeting his eyes before staring at his lips a moment. 
“No?” he hums, tilting his head to the side in an almost mocking-manner. 
“Just telling the truth,” you say. “Just… want you. Need you so bad.” 
“Need me here?” he asks, grabbing his length and rubbing it up and down between your folds. Your breath catches in your throat and you almost cry when his tip catches against your clit. 
“Yes,” you beg, knowing he wants a verbal answer. 
He continues to tease for a moment and you all but thrash underneath him, your head moving from side to side. 
“Felix, fuck, I need you so bad. I want you to fuck me, please? Don’t you want it? I’m ready for you, I’m so wet, just please, let it in, I promise I–” 
He stops your rambling by flipping you over onto your stomach. He grabs you harshly by the waist and slams his cock into you before you can complain a second longer. Pushed to the hilt he stills a moment, relishing in the way you feel wrapped around him before continuing his ministrations, slamming his hips into you repetitively. He pulls you on and off of his length, completely using you for his own pleasure in a way that’s just so delicious you can’t help but moan. You push your face into your mattress in an attempt to muffle it. 
His pace is brutal and his hips snap into yours in a way that is bruising. The only sound that fills the room is his thighs hitting the back of yours and you can feel yourself approaching your high even faster than before. 
“Feel so good, like you’re made for me,” you hear, and you don’t have time to warn him before your orgasm crashes over you. He coos and praises you as you cum, tightening around him and spasming until you can’t move, can’t even make a sound from how fucked out you are. 
Felix isn’t far behind you, slamming into you once, twice more before he pulls out, releasing all over your ass. You collapse onto the bed, your eyes fluttering closed as you feel your actions catching up to you. You’re sore but tingly, and you register weight moving off the bed but you can’t bother to open your eyes. You feel a warm washcloth clean up your back and your naked form cuddles into Felix for quite some time, his hands rubbing soothing circles onto your back. He hums a soft but low tune that guides you to sleep even faster, a small ‘thank you’ escaping your lips before you fall into a peaceful slumber, absent of the nightmares that have been plaguing you. 
As your heart fills your chest all the way, you note that you’re happier than you have been since the day you arrived here, maybe even the day you started dating Jungwon all that time ago. 
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