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ahqkas · 3 months ago

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♯ THE TASTE OF HEAVEN . . . sugar daddy ! batboys x fem ! reader

BRUCE WAYNE

bruce wayne doesn’t need to flaunt his wealth because he is the wealth. he doesn’t call himself your sugar daddy—it’s just implied in every action, every gift, and every moment he spends with you. whether it’s a sleek black card handed to you with no spending limit or a private plane waiting to take you to an exotic destination, bruce makes luxury feel effortless

you can forget off-the-rack anything. bruce ensures you have custom clothing, jewelry, and even furniture. he’ll casually remark, “i had the designer make a few changes for you,” as though commissioning bespoke items for you is just another tuesday

his gifts are never tacky or gaudy—this man has impeccable taste, and everything he gives you reflects that. think diamond necklaces that catch the light just right, limited-edition handbags, or handwritten invitations to exclusive events where you’re his arm candy

you’re the arm candy !!! bruce’s automatic date to every high-profile gala, charity ball, and exclusive event. he wouldn’t even think of bringing anyone else. he makes it clear you’re not just an accessory, you’re the highlight of his night

you have a tab at nearly every high-end establishment in gotham. whether you’re shopping for couture or just stopping by your favorite café, bruce ensures you’re treated like royalty. everyone knows exactly who’s footing the bill

bruce isn’t the type to throw money at you just because—he always wants to make sure it’s something meaningful or useful to you. if you mention wanting to start a business or learn a new skill, he’ll quietly arrange everything you need, from connections to resources

while his gifts are extravagant, his affection shows in quieter ways too. when you’re stressed, he whisks you away for a weekend spa retreat. if you’re cold, he’ll drape his expensive coat over your shoulders without hesitation. every gesture, big or small, is about making your life as comfortable as possible

people know bruce is your sugar daddy, but they’re far too intimidated to say anything. the whispered assumptions only make him smirk. he doesn’t care what anyone thinks—if anything, he enjoys the power it gives him to make it abundantly clear that you’re his

despite the sugar daddy thing between you, bruce’s affection runs far deeper. he doesn’t just give you gifts—he gives you his time, his attention, and his unwavering loyalty. the material luxuries are just an extension of the way he sees you: as someone deserving of nothing but the best

he’ll sometimes joke about the arrangement with a mischievous smile. “you’re lucky i’m rich,” he’ll say, handing you keys to a new car or sliding over a box containing some ridiculously rare jewelry. but his tone is warm, his teasing more affectionate than condescending

DICK GRAYSON

unlike bruce, dick doesn’t shy away from the term “sugar daddy.” in fact, he might jokingly call himself that from time to time, especially when handing you an absurdly expensive gift

( dick ‘what’s the point of having all this money if i can’t spoil my girl?’ grayson )

while he spoils you endlessly, he does it in a way that feels personal and heartfelt. every gift, trip, or gesture reflects how well he knows you. if you casually mention a dream vacation destination or a favorite designer, you can bet it’ll show up in your life sooner rather than later

he is the kind of sugar daddy who makes spoiling you fun. he’ll turn shopping trips into mini-games, daring you to try on the most extravagant pieces in the store just so he can gush over how amazing you look. “if you don’t let me buy that dress, i’ll be personally offended,” he’d tease, but you know he’s serious

dick loves being seen with you. whether it’s walking hand in hand down the streets of blüdhaven or pulling up to a gala with you in tow, he thrives on showing the world just how proud he is to have you by his side. and yes, he does things like carrying your shopping bags with zero shame, flashing that charming grin at anyone who stares

doesn’t wait for a special occasion to surprise you. whether it’s a bouquet of your favorite flowers, a new gadget you’ve been eyeing, or tickets to a concert you love, he’s constantly finding ways to brighten your day

with dick, every vacation feels like a scene from a romance movie. he books private villas, sunset yacht rides, and five-star experiences, all while making it feel like the most casual, natural thing in the world. “i just thought we could use a break,” he’d say, as if flying you out to the maldives was as simple as grabbing coffee

he’s always finding ways to make you laugh, even about the relationship itself. if someone gives you a side-eye for carrying a designer purse, he’ll lean over and whisper, “they’re just jealous, babe. can you blame them?” his lighthearted attitude makes the relationship feel easy and natural

with his good looks and high-profile status, the press is obsessed with you two. headlines like “blüdhaven’s golden boy and his stunning girlfriend” are a constant, but dick takes it in stride, often laughing at the exaggerations

“you deserve the world,” he’d say, his blue eyes sparkling. “let me give it to you.”

JASON TODD

jason didn’t immediately step into the role of “sugar daddy.” in fact, he hesitated because he didn’t want his wealth to define your relationship. but as time passed and he saw how much joy he could bring you by easing your stress, he leaned into it—but only his way

for jason, being your sugar daddy isn’t about flashy displays or media attention—it’s about making sure you’re secure and comfortable in a way no one else could provide. he loves knowing you don’t have to worry about rent, bills, or any other mundane stressors. “if i can fix it, i’m going to,” he says simply, brushing off your thanks like it’s no big deal

he might not shower you with gifts constantly, but when he does, it’s jaw-dropping: a rare first-edition book he remembered you mentioned once, a custom leather jacket, or even a dream vacation to a quiet, secluded spot where you can both relax away from the chaos of gotham

jason is practical when it comes to what he provides. he’ll upgrade your phone, stock your fridge with your favorite snacks, and even surprise you with a car when he notices yours struggling. “i’m not about to let you drive around in that death trap,” he grumbles as he tosses you the keys

and while he’s not the type to parade you through expensive stores, jason shows his affection in quieter, more personal ways. he might take you on a motorcycle ride to a hidden gotham rooftop, where he surprises you with your favorite takeout and a designer bag “he happened to pick up”

despite his tough exterior, he has a serious soft spot for you. if you so much as hint at wanting something, he’s already making plans to get it. he’ll pretend it’s no big deal, but his little smirk always gives him away

jason sometimes pretends to be annoyed by how much he spoils you, but it’s all in good fun. “you’re turning me into one of those rich guys,” he’ll grumble, handing you a sleek gift box. but the way his lips twitch into a smile when you beam at him says otherwise

you’ll come home to find an envelope with tickets to your favorite band’s concert or a designer coat hanging in your closet because he noticed the weather getting colder. “what? you think i didn’t notice you shivering last week?”

he doesn’t like the idea of anyone else stepping in to provide for you. if someone so much as jokes about taking you out or buying you a drink, he’s quick to step in, slinging an arm around your shoulders and shooting them a glare. “she’s taken. move along.”

he makes sure you feel safe, cared for, and endlessly spoiled in his own rough-edged, loving way <3

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ggidolsmuts · 3 months ago

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F***ably Late - Kim Minju

"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."

"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.

#smut #kim minju

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ybklix · 9 months ago

Text

𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲

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.

#lee felix smut #skz smut #felix smut #stray kids smut #felix x reader #felix x you #lee felix x reader #kpop smut #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids #skz #skz felix #felix hard thoughts #𐙚wen writes♡₊˚⊹

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urprettylildoe · 2 months ago

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𝒟ℯ𝓋ℴ𝓉𝒾ℴ𝓃

Yandere!bodyguard

♡ Money or not, he's always near.

Note: slight violence, implications of a bad relationship.

Once upon a time, you too were a little girl staring at the TV screen all starry eyed. It was a dream of yours to be like one of those lovely women living the life.

Now, you felt what it was like. Basking in the warmthness of luxury and popularity, it was all you ever wanted.

But fame had an ugly side to it.

Forget the hate — the feeling of eyes wathing your every move, picking apart your every expression to the last bit was exhausting. It was a price to pay, a fellow co-star once advised as your career shot up drastically.

Thankfully, the problem didn't really persist. Matteo was by your side. Even if he was getting paid to do so.

The bodyguard had the muscles for the job and his experience was nothing short of amazing. He worked with countless celebrities bigger than you ever would be. Though, that is the bit that confused you. Why would he settle for you? A big name in the fim industry did offer him a job that paid twice than what you did.

He was doing this for the money...

...right?

♡

"Matteo," you sung softly from behind the curtain. Currently, you were at a store and trying on some outfits.

"Yes, ma'am?" Matteo replied, carrying designer bags on both arms.

Strutting out, you twirled around in the dress. It was a pretty blue colour that fitted you perfectly, almost made specifically for you. He swallowed, throat going dry.

You gushed, "Oh, isn't this perfect? I just have to get it. What do you think?"

His mind went a little fuzzy at that, his heart beating thump thump against his chest. Almost as if he forgot how to speak.

No one could rival a sight like yours, and he's seen lots of sights ever since he decided to protect famous figures worldwide from his youth. However, you carried a charisma, an air about you that was so...enticing.

Was it an exaggeration? No.

Well, was it an understatement? 100%.

Before Matteo could even process the overwhelming feelings all at once, your concerned face came into view. "Are you okay?"

Almost frantically, he nodded. "Yes, yes, I'm fine."

The baby blue dress bounced up and down as you beamed, amusement creeping nto your tone.

"Do you not think my dress looks nice?"

How could you even think that? Just seeing you like this made him so giddy like a schoolgirl, because you were trying on dresses for him. It was a privilege.

"N-no, ma'am, it's so..." Matteo breathed out, "...beautiful."

"Then I'll get the dress! It's not everyday you call something beautiful, 'teo!" You clapped your hands, disappearing back into the dressing room and not giving him time to even react at yiur careful consideration of his opinion.

A smile grew upon his lips as heat rushed to his cheeks and the area downwards.

For the first time in all his years of looming over his clients like a shadow, he never felt wanted, the relationships consisting of professional contracts.

He wouldn't get a single cent and still thank you for letting him protect you.

You got him in too deep. Suffer the consequences of your actions.

Surely, keeping him around meant something?

♡

The car halted in front of the gala.

Perched on the backseat, you wore the pretty blue dress along with your hair and makeup styled to match.

Matteo stared longingly at you through the rear-view mirror. Your pouty lips were coated in gloss, a forbidden place he'd never touch but only look

He cleared his throat. "Ready to go in, ma'am?"

With a nod, you both walked into the event. A bombshell and the striking wolf behind her.

Familiar faces painted on forced smiles as they mingled, paparazzi's cameras flickering constantly.

You were the only authentic one.

"Oh, y/n, I just adore your outfit." A woman who walked up to you complimented.

As you thanked her, Matteo watched like a hawk. He couldn't afford any risks especially when someone tried to slip someting in your drink right in front of him last time.

Amidst the crowd, you both failed to notice some of the paparazzi's attention zeroing in on your bodyguard's intense eyes thay never left you.

Click.

It would make a good story.

All it took was one, stupid glance away, then you vanished out of thin air.

Everything went downhill from there.

Like a rabid dog, Matteo tore through the sea of people, his eyes looking around for your gorgeous, unmistakable features.

Where are you?

You can't go. A dog can't be left alone without his owner.

Please be okay.

♡

You were not okay.

"C'mon, honey, I know you want this too!" That disgusting voice pleaded, paired with a sleazy grin.

Your imbecile of an ex boyfriend couldn't seem to take a hint.

Over a year ago, you had to leave the toxic relationship. Along with being a professional cheater, he also seemed to have a masters in manipulation and narcissism. Now, you were stuck with him in a secluded area. Great.

Frantically, you looked around for Mattheo. Surely, he'd be here any minute. Did he not notice your absence?

"Get off of me! I told you I don't want to see you ever again!" You exclaimed, your voice cracking at the end and making you sound so weak.

All it took was a moment of vunerability for him to go absolutely condescending on you, "I missed you too, babe. Stop playing and let's go back to the way we were." You smelt alchohol on his breath, dread filling your stomach. He got the scariest when drunk.

No matter how much you pulled your wrist out of his grasp, he didn't budge. Were the endless articles about your breakup that went on for months not enough to drive him away?

"Leave me alone!"

"Babe, don't play hard to get."

"No, I'm not, go away."

"You are. Let's go ho-"

"No!"

Without thinking, your hand connected with his cheek, leaving a pink mark in its wake.

Slowly, he reached up to touch it in shock, his dumb gaze flickering from you to his hand on his face. Then, those eyes went absolutely feral.

Almost instantly, he pushed you to the floor, making you hit your side with a wince.

In a terrifying voice, he snarled: "Disgusting woman. I don't know what I even saw in a girl like you who thinks she's all that. Ungrateful."

This is what happened every time. It was like a cycle that no matter how much you tried to break, it managed to suck you back into the same scenario with new blooming bruises to match the old ones.

"I should teach you a lesson. Put you back in your place, what do ya think?

Tears filled your eyes as you peered up at him, "p-please no-"

"Shut up!" He barked, "how annoying can you be? I should get it over with, maybe you'll thank me for it someday."

You raised a hand to cover yourself from the-

A certain force collided into his body.

The two figures tumbled to the ground. Wide, almost insane eyes peered into your ex's.

Matteo. He never looked this terrifying, almost possessed.

Over and over again, the guy received punches like hammers to the point where he almost looked unrecognisable. In that moment, all he saw was red.

"You think you can touch her and can get away with it? You don't even deserve to breathe the same air as her, damn it!" Your guard dog snarled, his teeth bared.

The only things that stopped him from killing the pig were the people who held him back, otherwise Mattheo would be in prison. However, it was still a struggle to hold back the muscular hulk.

Matteo glared while he struggled, "If she wasn't here, you'd be six feet under by now."

His fists shook as the voices inside him demanded more.

Kill him.

He touched your girl.

Snapping out of it, he looked over to where you were curled up against the floor, pitiful sobs escaping your lips. Poor thing.

A silhouette crouched down to your level, despite it still towering over you.

The familiar hands, now coated in blood, cupped your face. "Don't cry. See? I took care of him. The punk doesn't deserve your tears."

Your face was tilted up, your teary eyes framed by the smudged eye makeup.

He brought your shivering form to his chest, nose buried in your hair. Your arms wrapped around him, sobbing into his chest, the safe haven you found solace in.

"You should know by now I'd do anything to protect you."

That was a promise he kept and intended to still keep. Even if he wanted to break it, he couldn't.

After all, loyalty was burned and embedded into his soul, like the devoted man he'll always be.

♡

𝒴ℴ𝓊𝓇𝓈 𝓉𝓇𝓊𝓁𝓎

@yourprettylildoe

#yandere #original story #writing #writes on tumblr #writblr #writers on tumblr #yandere x you #yandere x reader #Yandere blog #Bodyguard #soft yandere #yanderecore #Love

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lowkeyerror · 5 months ago

Text

Try It On, Take It Off

Maddy Perez x Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Notes: Smut, cunnulingus, fingering, thigh riding, dom!reader, sub!Maddy, slight degregation, slight praise, plot if you squint

Summary: You're a fashion major who is inspired by her roommate Maddy, to make a beautiful dress. Though it wasn't your intention Maddy ends up trying the dress on, and subsequently taking it off

Masterlist

Your dorm room was quiet. The only thing that could be heard was the low hum of your sewing machine. Glasses were perched at the edge of your nose and a pin was held in your mouth. Your eyes consistently glancing over at your design plan, not wanting to make a mistake.

When you were younger you had an aversion to clothing. You couldn’t have cared any less about what you wore. There was plenty of times that you came home with grass stains on your pants or with mysterious holes in you shirts. Your parents were always scolding you for your appearance.

When you got older it turned out that, you just weren’t a fan of the clothes they bought you. Once you got to pick the items in your wardrobe you began to cultivate your own style. Eventually you became bored with what the stores had to offer. So, you learned how to make pieces that you wanted to wear.

That eventually led to you finding out that designing clothes was your passion. You applied to a few fashion schools in your local area and got accepted to all of them. However when your dream school in California offered you a full ride you couldn’t pass up the opportunity.

It had only been a couple of months since your move. You were a bit of a recluse even with such an outgoing major. The outgoing party aspects of college were lost on you. The same couldn't be said for your roommate, Maddy.

While you were always in your dorm working, she was the exact opposite. If you hadn’t seen her in the bed sleeping on the way to your morning classes, you would doubt that she even stayed in the dorm at all.

You weren’t surprised that the girl always had plans. She looked important. It was one the first things you noticed about her. Her style almost screamed that she was better than you. Whether she was wearing street clothes, party attire or formal wear, she always looked good. It helped that the woman herself was drop dead gorgeous.

Sometimes you’d look at the girl and get inspired to make something. You typically refrained from creating those pieces, but this one was different. It was an elegant blue gown. It was something like an upscale prom dress. Something that one would wear to a gala maybe, but not a wedding.

As soon as the idea popped in your head, you knew that you had to make it. It had taken you a few weeks to get it together. All of the work was paying off beautifully. You were nearly done with it, the last thing being sewing the piece together.

The quiet left the room as Maddy and her friend entered. They were giggling the moment they came through the door.

“Y/n, this is my friend Cassie. Cassie this is my roommate Y/n,” she introduced as the pair plopped down on her bed.

“Hi,” you said keeping your focus on the dress.

“Wow, it’s beautiful,” the blonde spoke.

That piqued your interest. You lift your head up to meet her, gaze a smile stretching across your face, “Thanks. I’ve been working on it for a few weeks.”

“Are you going to model it?”

You shake your head quickly, “It’s not my proportions.”

“Are you making it for a friend?” Maddy questions.

You feel the tip of your ears heat, “Um, well n-not really. I don’t think. I just got inspired to make it, so it’s not for anything particular.”

“What inspires something as elegant as this?”

You scratch the back of your neck, “ Someone.”

Maddy interjects again, “So you did make it for someone.”

You sigh, “Look, it’s inspired by this girl I know, but I don’t know if she’d even want this.”

“Anyone who would turn something like this down has to be a fucking idiot,” Cassie says.

Maddy agrees with the blonde, “Truly a dumbass.”

You chuckle at their comments. They turn their attention back to each other and you go back to working on the dress.

Eventually the two girls go back out. A few hours pass and you finally finish the dress. You hang it up on the wood connected to your bed. The full view of it sends pride through your chest.

“It’s beautiful.”

You’re slightly startled by the Latina’s presence. You didn’t hear her come back in. She laughs at your fright, but continues getting closer to the dress. Seeing her next to it only made you want to see her in it more.

“Is it okay if I touch it?”

You don’t answer her immediately. She takes her eyes off the dress to look at you. This takes you out of your trance.

“D-do you want to try it on?”

Maddy arches an eyebrow, “Are you sure?”

You nod , “Positive.”

“What if I don’t fit?”

You shake your head, “It’ll fit trust me.”

Carefully she takes the dress and heads towards the bathroom.

“Wait,” you call to her and she stops.

You quickly go to the closet and search through your roommate’s things. You pull out some sparkly blue heels that work with the dress.

“With these,” you hand them to her.

She gives you a look you can’t decipher, but wordlessly goes into the restroom.

You wait on the edge of your bed with baited breath. Having the woman that inspired the piece actually wear it. You were doubtful that it would happen, but now it was a reality.

When the bathroom door opened, Maddy slowly made her exit. It was almost like a bunch of still images as she came into the room frame by frame.

She was stunning. You couldn’t find the words as much as you searched for them. The heels went perfect with the dress. Everything about it was perfect. It fit her like a glove.

“Speechless?”

You nod before standing up. Your eyes rake over her one more time, trying to come up with anything, “This is… it’s better than I imagined.”

“Better than you imagined,” Maddy repeats smugly.

You feel the embarrassment start to rise, “I mean- I…”

“I think, you made it for me. It feels like it’s tailored specifically for me,” she says, getting closer to you.

“I- you inspired me to make it, yes,” you look down avoiding her gaze.

“So you see me in the same way you see this dress?”

You shake your head, “The dress goes with you. It compliments and accentuates what you already bring to the table.”

“And what do I bring to the table, Y/n?”

You gulp, “Your confidence, the way you carry yourself, it just gives off importance. Your style is perfect and you’re very… pretty."

“Sounds like you pay a lot of attention to me,” Maddy now stands face to face with you.

“We’re roommates,” you try to defend.

“I pay a lot of attention to you, Y/n,” she admits.

You feel your mouth go dry, “What?”

Maddy’s eyes stay on yours, “I can't help it, you’re just so cute. You look so tense when you’re curled up on your bed working on something. Those glasses are always one wrong move away from falling off. I especially like the way you look at me, it’s like you’re taking every detail of me in every single time.”

“You think I’m cute,” you repeat, blushing madly.

“I think you’re adorable, innocent even.”

The way her eyes examine you, makes you squirm. There’s a tension in the air, something that is unfamiliar to you.

“I’m not innocent,” your tongue swipes over your bottom lip.

“Prove it,” the Latina challenges you.

You stand a little taller. The height difference between the two of you a little more evident. You carefully remove your glasses, tossing them on a nearby desk. Then you close the gap between Maddy and yourself.

“I’m not some shy virgin loser, if that’s what you were thinking.”

Maddy leans further into you, “All that stuttering is for show then?”

“The thing about my nerves is that I always overcome them.”

Your hand moves to rest on her waist, but she playfully smacks your hand away.

“No touching, this dress is priceless.”

A deep laugh escapes you, “Then I think you might have to take it off.”

Maddy reaches for the back of the dress. Her finger ghosts the zipper, “You sure you can handle it?”

Instead of reaching for her waist your hand travels to the zipper on the back of the dress. You keep eye contact with her as you pull it down. When it gets to the end your fingers graze the soft skin of her back. Your focus is only enhanced by the goosebumps you can feel forming under your touch.

“I know that I can,” your lips are gentle against her earlobe.

The dress begins to pool at the bottom as it slips off of her. Maddy finds herself stepping out of the dress giving you the perfect view of her body. She turns around to bend down and pick it up. Her ass pressing against your front as she does so.

You can’t help yourself as your hand places itself on her neck. There’s no pressure applied, but that doesn’t stop her head from tilting back.

“Kiss me already,” she breathes out.

You smirk, “I don’t think you’re in any place to be making demands.”

She opens her mouth to reply, but your hand lightly squeezes her throat. She whimpers softly only widening the grin on your face.

“Put the dress down first,” you tease her in the same way as she did with you.

Quickly she slips from your hold and sits the dress down and out of the way. When she faces you again, there are no smart remarks. Her matching black lace set left little for your mind to imagine. It wouldn’t be on long.

It was hot when you finally kissed. It wasn’t slow or tentative like most first kisses were. It was hungry, messy even. Each of you wanted to dominate the other. Neither was quite willing to relent.

Her arms were tightly secured around your neck, pulling you down closer to her. You finally had her waist firmly in your hands.

She slips her tongue into your mouth causing you to moan. You playfully suck on it, which elicits a pretty cry from Maddy. You take the opportunity to briefly separate; only enough to remove your shirt.

Her palms resettle on your body, feeling you up. A fistful of her ass fits nicely in your hand.

“Fuck,” Maddy sighs against your lips.

You can’t help smacking the flesh leaving a stinging sensation with the woman.

“Always going out in those slutty outfits. Probably hoping some stupid guy thinks he’s got a shot, just so you can get off on turning him down. Coming back here all late, but unsatisfied. Playing with yourself as soon as you get in bed. Pathetic.”

You show your strength by ripping her bra with your bare hands. She arches into you as your mouth attacks her breasts. You harshly suck at the swells of breasts hoping to leave a trail of marks in your path.

When you suck on her tits she begins to whine, “I need more.”

You look up at her, “Beg."

You expected more push back from her, but she was quick to comply, “Please Y/n, I need more. Touch me, taste me, I need you, please.”

��Good girl,” you move the girl to lay on the bed.

You hover over her and her hand goes for the waistband of your pants. You take them off quickly before kissing her again.

You create your own path, kissing and suckling down her body before getting to her pussy. The scent alone is driving you insane. You’ve teased her enough.

Delicately you pull her panties to the side and begin to devour her. Your hands find purchase on her thighs keeping them a part. You feel your own arousal intensify as the woman begins to move desperately against your tongue.

Your hot breath against her cunt was turning her into a puddle. Two of your fingers bury themselves inside of her.

“You’re such a hungry slut, say it,” you feel her sucking your fingers deeper into her hole.

“I’m a hungry slut,” she’s nearly breathless from your intense pace.

“Cum on my fingers.”

You begin fucking her faster, causing her to rise up in the bed. The image of sweat dripping down her body, as her eyes were close, looks like a Picasso painting.

With your free hand your fingers begin circling her clit. Her body shakes violently as that final action sent her over the edge. You fuck her through the orgasm your pace finally slowing before you pull your fingers out of her.

You don’t waste anytime shoving those same fingers into her mouth. She sucks them lazily, her tongue swirling around your digits.

“There you go, you like tasting yourself don’t you?”

Your voice is condescending, but she nods nonetheless, with your fingers still in her mouth. Once her mouth is off of your fingers she pulls you into a kiss. You’re obsessed with the taste of her.

Her fingers toy with the top of your pants. She looks up at you innocently, “I want to make you come.”

The confidence she usually carries is gone. Part of you thinks that she's afraid you'll turn her away.

You soften for a second, “I’m not going to deny you, baby.”

You let her pull your pants and underwear down. You’re just as wet as she was. She drags a finger through your folds gathering your juices before putting the finger in her mouth.

Her eyes close at the taste, “Fuck Y/n.”

Your hand rests on her chin, gently tilting her head up, “Can I use you, Maddy?”

She nods dumbly which makes you smile.

“Good girl. Get up and sit on that chair.”

She quickly follows your command. Once she's in the chair you sit on her lap. Your bare pussy in contact with her smooth thigh.

“Flex your thigh,” you instruct.

She listens and the change makes you gasp lightly. Your rest your head in the crook of her neck then slowly begin to grind on her thigh. Small whimpers and cries escape your lips as you use her thigh to get off.

Maddy’s hands rest on your hips helping guide your movements.

“That’s it baby, help me,” you whisper against her skin.

Her grip on you becomes more firm as she speeds up your movements. Her hands now in full control of your pace.

You lift your head up to kiss her sensually. Your hands tangle in the back of her hair, keeping her in place.

She begins to push your hips down rougher.

You whine at the change, “I’m going to cum."

When you do, Maddy is quick to switch your position. She sits you on the chair before getting on her knees. She keeps one hand on your chest as her mouth begins to latch on to your pussy.

She tentatively licks through your folds and her tongue prods at your soddened entrance. You’re trying to catch your breath. Maddy is holding back only trying to clean you, but you can tell she wants to keep tasting you.

When you decide that she’s had enough you yank her hair, just enough to get her attention. She looks up at you with swollen lips.

“I had to taste you,” she apologizes.

“Come here.”

She rises slowly and now it’s who pulls her into your lap. Your lips meet again this time matching together perfectly. The tiredness present, but neither of you want to stop.

“So good for letting me use you,” you mumble against her lips.

“Y/nn,” she mewls against you.

You chuckle, “I’m just teasing.”

She jokingly pushes your shoulder, “So, can I have that dress?”

You pretend to think about it, “As long as we keep doing that, you can have whatever you want.”

“And if I wanted a date?”

You stutter, “I- we could do that then.”

She laughs, “You’re cute.”

“Don’t forget how good I just fucked you.”

She shook her head and kissed your forehead, “I won’t, but that doesn’t mean I can’t call you cute.”

You grumble, but nonetheless wrap your arms around the girl. Your head falls onto her shoulder.

“We have to clean up before bed baby,” her hand massages your scalp.”

“Can we just sit for a minute?”

So you sit there, holding her in your arms. Her naked body against yours. The only thought on your mind is her and what you'll make her next time.

#lowkeyerror #maddy perez x you #maddy perez imagine #maddy perez x reader #maddy perez #cassie howard

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bucksangel · 4 months 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

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

#let me know what yall think!#bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky fic rec #james barnes #james bucky barnes #james barns #bucky barns #bucky barns imagine #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #sd!bucky #sugar daddy!bucky #sugardaddy!bucky #my writing #my stuff

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sushiyuzu · 4 months ago

Text

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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jiminomenon · 8 days ago

Text

money talks

pairing: jang wonyoung x female reader

tag(s): ceo! wonyoung, sugar mommy! wonyoung, sugar baby! reader, power dynamics, wonielle makes an appearance

word count: 4.4k

summary: y/n sneaks into an exclusive gala, where she unexpectedly saves wonyoung, a powerful ceo, from a heated confrontation. this chance encounter leads to a life-changing sugar baby arrangement that pulls y/n into a world of luxury and complexity. as their relationship deepens, the lines between business and emotion blur, with wonyoung’s charm and generosity making it harder for y/n to see their arrangement as purely transactional, and both women find themselves drawn to each other in ways they never expected.

a/n: there’s 200 of you now which is insane 🤯 i’m honestly quite overwhelmed bc where on earth did you guys come from? 🤨 i didn’t even have time to write smth for my 100 followers special so take sugar mommy! wonyoung as a treat. lowkey kinda gave up in the end tho but hope you guys enjoy lmfao, happy reading 🎀✨

the grand ballroom of the city’s most exclusive hotel sparkled under the glow of crystal chandeliers. the air was thick with the scent of expensive perfume and the sound of clinking champagne glasses. the room was filled with the city’s elite—celebrities, business moguls, and socialites mingling effortlessly, their laughter echoing off the marble floors. it was the kind of event y/n could only dream of attending, and yet, here she was, standing awkwardly in the corner, clutching a glass of champagne she didn’t dare drink.

“this was a terrible idea,” y/n muttered under her breath, glancing around nervously. her friends, hanni and yunjin, had convinced her to sneak into the gala, promising it would be a night to remember. they’d borrowed dresses from a thrift store, done their makeup in the back of an uber, and somehow managed to slip past security by blending in with a group of influencers. but now, as y/n scanned the crowd, she realized she’d lost sight of her friends entirely.

“great,” she sighed, setting her untouched champagne on a passing waiter’s tray. “just great.”

she wandered through the crowd, her heels clicking softly against the polished floor. the opulence of the event was overwhelming—gold-trimmed tables, towering floral arrangements, and waiters circulating with trays of caviar and truffles. y/n felt like a fraud, her thrift store dress suddenly feeling cheap and out of place. she was about to turn around and head for the exit when a commotion caught her attention.

near the edge of the room, partially hidden by a towering potted plant, stood a woman y/n recognized immediately. it was jang wonyoung, the ceo of starship industries and one of the most powerful women in the city. she was dressed in a sleek, tailored suit, her sharp features illuminated by the soft glow of the chandeliers. but what caught y/n’s attention was the tension in the air. wonyoung was speaking to a younger man, her expression cold and unreadable.

“you’re boring,” wonyoung said, her voice low but cutting. “i don’t have time for boring.”

the man’s face twisted in anger, his hands clenching into fists. “you think you can just toss me aside like that? after everything i’ve done for you?”

wonyoung raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “done for me? please. you’ve done nothing but drain my bank account and waste my time.”

the man’s anger boiled over, and he lunged at her, grabbing her arm roughly. y/n’s heart leapt into her throat. without thinking, she rushed forward, grabbing the man’s shoulder and pulling him away.

“hey!” y/n snapped, her voice shaking but firm. “let her go!”

the man turned to glare at her, his grip on wonyoung loosening. “who the hell are you?”

“someone who doesn’t think it’s okay to put your hands on someone else,” y/n shot back, stepping between him and wonyoung. her heart was pounding, but she stood her ground, her fists clenched at her sides.

the man hesitated, his eyes darting between y/n and wonyoung. for a moment, it looked like he might argue, but then he scoffed, releasing wonyoung’s arm with a rough shove. “whatever. she’s not worth it anyway.”

the man stormed off, leaving y/n and wonyoung alone. y/n turned to wonyoung, her breath coming in short gasps. “are you okay?”

wonyoung studied her with an unreadable expression, her sharp eyes scanning y/n’s face. “i’m fine,” she said finally, her voice calm and measured. “but you… you’re not supposed to be here, are you?”

y/n’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “i—uh—”

before she could stammer out an explanation, a security guard appeared, his walkie-talkie crackling as he spoke into it. “we found her,” he said, his voice gruff and authoritative. he turned to y/n, his expression stern. “you’re coming with me.”

y/n’s stomach dropped. this was it. she was going to be thrown out, humiliated in front of everyone. the guard grabbed her arm, his grip firm and unyielding. “let’s go.”

“wait—” y/n started, but the guard cut her off.

“no excuses. you’re trespassing, and you’re coming with me.”

y/n’s heart raced as the guard began to drag her away, the eyes of the crowd starting to turn toward the commotion. she felt a wave of panic wash over her, her mind scrambling for a way out. but before the guard could take more than a few steps, a voice cut through the noise like a blade.

“let her go.”

the guard froze, turning to see wonyoung standing there, her arms crossed and her expression icy. “m-ms. jang, this woman is trespassing. i’m just doing my job.”

“and your job,” wonyoung said, her voice low and dangerous, “is to listen to me when i tell you to let her go.”

the guard hesitated, his grip on y/n loosening slightly. “with all due respect, ms. jang, she’s not on the guest list. i have to remove her.”

wonyoung stepped closer, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floor. she tilted her head, a sly smile playing on her lips. “are you really going to argue with me about this? in front of all these people?” the guard glanced around, noticing the curious stares of the guests. he shifted uncomfortably, his confidence wavering. “i… i’m just following protocol.”

“protocol?” wonyoung repeated, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “let me make this simple for you. she’s with me. she’s my plus one. and if you don’t let her go right now, i’ll make sure you’re looking for a new job tomorrow. understood?”

the guard’s face paled, and he immediately released y/n’s arm, stepping back. “of course, ms. jang. my apologies.”

wonyoung’s smile widened, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “good. now, if you’ll excuse us.”

the guard nodded quickly, muttering another apology before retreating into the crowd. y/n stared at wonyoung, her mind reeling. “why did you do that?”

wonyoung turned to her, her expression softening. “because you just saved me from a very unpleasant situation. consider it a thank you.”

y/n blinked, still trying to process what had just happened. “i… you’re welcome?”

wonyoung chuckled softly, the sound sending a shiver down y/n’s spine. “you’re interesting. most people wouldn’t have stepped in like that.”

“i couldn’t just stand there and do nothing,” y/n said, her voice firm despite the nervous flutter in her chest.

wonyoung tilted her head, studying y/n with a curious expression. “what’s your name?”

“y/n.”

“y/n,” wonyoung repeated, as if testing the sound of it. she stepped closer, her gaze intense. “tell me, y/n… how would you like to be my new sugar baby?”

y/n’s eyes widened, her mouth falling open in shock. “i—what?”

wonyoung’s smirk widened, her confidence unwavering. “you heard me. i’m in need of someone… interesting. and you’ve just proven yourself to be exactly that.” she reached out, brushing a strand of hair from y/n’s face, her touch sending a jolt of electricity through y/n’s body. “so, what do you say?”

y/n’s mind raced, her heart pounding in her chest. this was insane. completely, utterly insane. but as she looked into wonyoung’s sharp, calculating eyes, she realized she didn’t have it in her to say no.

“okay,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “i’ll do it.”

wonyoung’s smile was triumphant, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “good. you won’t regret it.”

the morning after the gala, y/n woke up in a daze, her mind still reeling from the whirlwind of events. wonyoung had given her a ride home in her sleek black car, the interior smelling of leather and expensive perfume. before dropping her off, wonyoung had handed her a business card with an address and a time scribbled on the back.

“be here at 8 pm sharp,” wonyoung had said, her tone leaving no room for argument. “don’t be late.”

now, as y/n stood in front of the towering skyscraper that housed wonyoung’s penthouse, she felt a mix of nerves and excitement. she smoothed down the front of her dress—a simple black number she’d borrowed from mina—and took a deep breath before stepping into the lobby.

the doorman greeted her with a polite nod. “miss y/n? ms. jang is expecting you. take the private elevator to the top floor.”

y/n nodded, her heart pounding as she stepped into the elevator. the ride up was smooth and silent, the glass walls offering a breathtaking view of the city lights. when the doors slid open, she was greeted by the sight of wonyoung’s penthouse—a sprawling, minimalist space filled with floor-to-ceiling windows, modern art, and sleek furniture.

wonyoung stood by the window, a glass of wine in her hand. she turned as y/n stepped out of the elevator, a small smile playing on her lips. “you’re right on time. i like that.”

“i didn’t want to keep you waiting,” y/n said, her voice slightly shaky.

wonyoung gestured for her to come closer. “relax. you’re not here for an interview. well, not exactly.”

y/n walked over, her eyes darting around the room. “this place is… incredible.”

“it’s home,” wonyoung said with a shrug, as if it were nothing. she handed y/n a glass of wine, their fingers brushing briefly. “sit. we have some things to discuss.”

y/n sat down on the plush white sofa, her hands clutching the glass tightly. wonyoung took a seat across from her, crossing her legs elegantly. she reached for a sleek black folder on the coffee table and slid it toward y/n.

“this,” wonyoung said, “is your contract.”

y/n’s eyes widened. “contract?”

“of course,” wonyoung said, her tone matter-of-fact. “this is a business arrangement, after all. i need to make sure we’re both on the same page.”

y/n opened the folder, her eyes scanning the neatly typed pages. the terms were lavish—generous monthly allowance, a luxury apartment, access to wonyoung’s world—but there were also rules. y/n would be expected to accompany wonyoung to events, be available when needed, and maintain a certain level of discretion.

“this is… a lot,” y/n said, her voice barely above a whisper.

wonyoung leaned forward, her gaze intense. “it’s a fair deal. you get financial security, and i get… companionship. someone interesting. someone who isn’t afraid to stand up for me.”

y/n looked up, meeting wonyoung’s eyes. “and if i say no?”

wonyoung smirked. “you won’t.”

y/n hesitated, her mind racing. this was insane. completely, utterly insane. but as she looked around the penthouse, at the life wonyoung was offering her, she realized she didn’t have it in her to say no.

“okay,” she said finally, her voice steady. “i’ll do it.”

wonyoung’s smile was triumphant. “good. i knew you’d see it my way.” she reached for a pen and handed it to y/n. “sign here.”

y/n took the pen, her hand trembling slightly as she signed her name. when she was done, wonyoung took the contract and set it aside, her expression softening.

“now that that’s out of the way,” wonyoung said, standing up, “let’s celebrate. i have reservations at a place i think you’ll like.”

y/n blinked. “right now?”

“why not?” wonyoung said, her tone playful. “consider it your first official outing as my sugar baby.”

the restaurant was everything y/n had imagined and more—a Michelin-starred establishment with dim lighting, soft music, and a menu filled with dishes she couldn’t pronounce. wonyoung ordered for both of them, her confidence effortless as she chatted with the waiter.

“you’re not allergic to anything, are you?” wonyoung asked, glancing at y/n.

“no,” y/n said, shaking her head. “but i’ve never been to a place like this before.”

wonyoung smirked. “get used to it. this is your life now.”

the food arrived, each course more exquisite than the last. y/n tried to keep up with wonyoung’s easy conversation, but she couldn’t help feeling out of place. wonyoung noticed, her sharp eyes catching every nervous fidget.

“relax,” wonyoung said, reaching across the table to touch y/n’s hand. “you’re doing fine.”

y/n’s breath hitched at the contact, her cheeks flushing. “it’s just… a lot to take in.”

wonyoung’s smile was soft, almost tender. “i know. but you’ll get used to it. and i’ll be here to guide you.”

the rest of the evening passed in a blur of laughter, wine, and stolen glances. by the time they left the restaurant, y/n felt a little more at ease, though the weight of her new reality still lingered.

as they stepped into the cool night air, wonyoung turned to y/n, her expression unreadable. “you did well tonight.”

“thanks,” y/n said, her voice barely above a whisper. “i’m glad i didn’t embarrass you.”

wonyoung chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down y/n’s spine. “you could never embarrass me. in fact, i think you might just be exactly what i’ve been looking for.”

y/n’s heart skipped a beat, her mind racing with possibilities. as wonyoung’s driver pulled up to the curb, y/n realized that her life was about to change in ways she couldn’t even imagine.

the weeks that followed the signing of the contract were a whirlwind of luxury and excess. y/n moved into a sleek, modern apartment in one of the city’s most exclusive neighborhoods, courtesy of wonyoung. the space was everything she could have dreamed of—floor-to-ceiling windows, a marble kitchen, and a walk-in closet filled with designer clothes. it was a far cry from her cramped, cluttered apartment, and yet, y/n couldn’t shake the feeling that she didn’t belong.

wonyoung had been true to her word, taking y/n to high-profile events and introducing her to a world she’d only ever seen in magazines. there were galas, charity auctions, and private parties, each more extravagant than the last. y/n learned to navigate the social scene with a practiced smile, her hand always resting lightly on wonyoung’s arm. she was the perfect accessory—beautiful, poised, and just interesting enough to keep wonyoung entertained.

but beneath the surface, y/n was struggling. the pressure to maintain the image wonyoung expected was exhausting. she spent hours practicing her posture, memorizing the names of influential people, and perfecting the art of small talk. she felt like an imposter, constantly waiting for someone to expose her as a fraud.

one evening, wonyoung took y/n to an art gallery opening, the kind of event where the champagne flowed freely and the art was secondary to the socializing. y/n wore a stunning emerald green dress that wonyoung had picked out for her, the fabric clinging to her curves in all the right places. she felt beautiful, but the weight of wonyoung’s expectations was heavy on her shoulders.

“remember,” wonyoung had said as they stepped out of the car, “smile, but don’t overdo it. you’re here to impress, not to blend in.”

y/n nodded, her stomach churning with nerves. she followed wonyoung into the gallery, her heels clicking softly against the polished floor. the room was filled with the city’s elite, their laughter and chatter creating a low hum of energy. wonyoung moved through the crowd with ease, her presence commanding attention wherever she went.

“ms. jang!” a man in a tailored suit greeted them, his smile wide and practiced. “it’s been too long. and who is this lovely creature?”

“this is y/n,” wonyoung said, her tone casual but her eyes sharp. “my… companion.”

the man’s eyebrows rose, his gaze flickering between wonyoung and y/n. “charmed,” he said, taking y/n’s hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “any companion of ms. jang’s is a friend of mine.”

y/n forced a smile, her cheeks burning. she hated the way people looked at her, like she was a shiny new toy wonyoung had acquired. but she kept her composure, nodding politely as the man launched into a monologue about the art on display.

as the night wore on, y/n found herself growing more comfortable. she even managed to hold her own in a conversation with a well-known art critic, surprising herself with how much she knew about the pieces on display. wonyoung watched her from across the room, a small smile playing on her lips.

“you did well tonight,” wonyoung said later, as they stepped into the car. “i’m impressed.”

y/n’s heart swelled with pride, but she quickly pushed the feeling down. “thanks. i’m just trying to keep up.”

wonyoung chuckled, the sound low and warm. “you’re doing more than keeping up. you’re thriving.”

a few days later, wonyoung took y/n to a charity gala at a luxury hotel. the event was even more extravagant than the gallery opening, with crystal chandeliers, live music, and a guest list that included some of the most powerful people in the city. y/n wore a sleek black gown, her hair styled in loose waves that cascaded down her back. she felt like a princess, but the illusion was shattered the moment she met *her*.

“well, well,” a voice purred from behind y/n. “if it isn’t the new girl.”

y/n turned to see a woman standing there, her golden dress hugging her figure like a second skin. she was stunning, with soft features but a confidence that made y/n feel instantly inferior. the woman’s long, dark hair framed her face perfectly, and her gentle eyes sparkled with an unreadable intensity. she smiled—a smile that felt effortless, almost intimidating in its beauty.

“i’m sorry,” y/n said, forcing a polite smile. “do i know you?”

the woman laughed, the sound cold and mocking. “oh, honey, you don’t need to know me. i know *you*. you’re wonyoung’s latest little project, aren’t you?”

y/n’s smile faltered, her stomach twisting into knots. “i… i don’t know what you mean.”

“don’t play dumb,” the woman said, stepping closer. “i was in your shoes once. wonyoung’s sugar baby, the center of her world… until she got bored and tossed me aside. and trust me, she *will* get bored. it’s only a matter of time.”

y/n’s heart raced, her mind reeling. she wanted to argue, to defend wonyoung, but the woman’s words struck a nerve. before she could respond, wonyoung appeared at her side, her expression icy.

“danielle,” wonyoung said, her voice sharp. “i see you’ve met y/n.”

the woman—danielle—smirked, her eyes glinting with malice. “i was just welcoming her to the club. you know, giving her a heads-up about how this little arrangement of yours usually ends.”

wonyoung’s jaw tightened, her hand resting possessively on y/n’s waist. “y/n is different. and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay out of her way.”

danielle laughed, but there was no humor in it. “we’ll see how long that lasts.” with that, she turned on her heel and disappeared into the crowd.

y/n felt like the ground had been ripped out from under her. she turned to wonyoung, her voice trembling. “is that true? will you just… get bored of me?”

wonyoung’s expression softened, her hand moving to cup y/n’s cheek. “don’t listen to her. she’s bitter and jealous. you’re not like her. you’re… different.”

y/n wanted to believe her, but the doubt had already taken root. as the night went on, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was just another replaceable part of wonyoung’s world.

months had passed since y/n signed the contract, and her life had become a carefully curated blend of luxury and performance. she attended events with wonyoung, played the part of the perfect companion, and tried to ignore the growing sense of emptiness inside her. the apartment, the clothes, the attention—it was everything she’d ever wanted, and yet, it felt like she was living someone else’s life.

the turning point came on a rainy evening, after a particularly draining charity gala. y/n had spent the night smiling and nodding, her cheeks aching from the effort. wonyoung had been her usual composed self, commanding the room with ease, but y/n had noticed the way her eyes lingered on danielle, who had been there with a new sugar mommy. the sight had stirred something ugly in y/n’s chest—a mix of jealousy, insecurity, and resentment.

now, back at wonyoung’s penthouse, y/n stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, staring out at the city lights. the rain streaked down the glass, distorting the view, and she felt like she was looking at her own reflection—blurred, fragmented, and unrecognizable.

“you’ve been quiet tonight,” wonyoung said, her voice cutting through the silence. she stood a few feet away, a glass of wine in her hand. “is something wrong?”

y/n turned to face her, her arms crossed over her chest. “do you ever get tired of this?”

wonyoung raised an eyebrow, her expression unreadable. “tired of what?”

“this,” y/n said, gesturing vaguely at the room. “the parties, the pretending, the… the performance. don’t you ever feel like it’s all just… empty?”

wonyoung’s lips curved into a faint smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “it’s part of the life we’ve chosen. you knew that when you signed the contract.”

“did i?” y/n shot back, her voice rising. “because i don’t think i really understood what i was getting into. i didn’t realize i’d have to give up everything—my friends, my independence, my sense of self—just to be your perfect little accessory.”

wonyoung’s smile faded, her expression hardening. “you’re not an accessory, y/n. you’re my companion. my partner. i’ve given you everything you could ever want.”

“except the truth,” y/n said, her voice trembling. “except the freedom to be myself. i feel like i’m losing who i am, wonyoung. and i don’t know if it’s worth it anymore.”

there was a long silence, the weight of y/n’s words hanging heavy in the air. wonyoung set her glass down on the coffee table, her movements deliberate. when she finally spoke, her voice was low and measured.

“what are you saying, y/n?”

y/n took a deep breath, her heart pounding in her chest. “i’m saying… i can’t keep doing this. i can’t keep pretending to be someone i’m not. i need to figure out who i am outside of this… this arrangement.”

wonyoung’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of something—anger? hurt?—crossing her face. “so that’s it? you’re just going to walk away?”

“i don’t know,” y/n admitted, her voice breaking. “but i can’t keep living like this. i need… i need to find myself again.”

wonyoung stared at her for a long moment, her expression unreadable. then, to y/n’s surprise, she let out a soft, bitter laugh. “you think i don’t know what that feels like? to lose yourself?”

y/n blinked, caught off guard. “what do you mean?”

wonyoung turned away, her gaze fixed on the city lights outside. “do you think i’ve always been like this? respected, controlled, untouchable? i wasn’t always this person, y/n. i had to become her. i had to build this… this fortress around myself to survive in this world. and sometimes, even now, i feel like i’m drowning.”

y/n’s anger faltered, replaced by a pang of sympathy. “wonyoung…”

“i didn’t expect you,” wonyoung continued, her voice softer now. “i didn’t expect to feel… anything. but you… you’re different. you’re not like the others. you’re not afraid to challenge me, to push back. and for the first time in a long time, i felt like maybe… maybe i didn’t have to be alone.”

y/n’s breath caught in her throat, her heart aching at the vulnerability in wonyoung’s voice. “wonyoung…”

wonyoung turned to face her, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “i don’t want to lose you, y/n. but i also don’t want to trap you. if you need to leave… if you need to find yourself… i won’t stop you. but i want you to know that what i feel for you… it’s real. it’s not part of the arrangement. it’s just… you.”

y/n felt tears welling up in her own eyes, the weight of wonyoung’s confession settling over her like a warm blanket. “i don’t know what to say.”

“you don’t have to say anything,” wonyoung said, her voice barely above a whisper. “just… think about it. and whatever you decide, i’ll respect it.”

y/n swallowed hard, staring at wonyoung—the woman who had, against all odds, become so much more than just a contract. she had been so sure that leaving was the only way to find herself again, but now, looking at wonyoung’s raw honesty, she wasn’t so sure anymore. maybe she had been looking at this all wrong.

maybe she wasn’t losing herself—maybe she had just been too scared to admit that she had already found something worth holding onto.

a shaky breath escaped her lips. “i don’t want to leave.”

wonyoung’s eyes widened slightly, the first crack in her composed mask. “you don’t?”

y/n shook her head, stepping closer. “no. i just… i don’t want this to be fake. i don’t want to be with you because of a contract. i want to be with you because it’s real.”

wonyoung exhaled, almost like she had been holding her breath, before a small, hopeful smile tugged at her lips. “then let’s make it real.”

y/n’s heart pounded. “what do you mean?”

wonyoung reached for her hand, lacing their fingers together. “no more contract. no more pretending. just you and me, figuring it out… together.”

y/n stared at her, searching for any hesitation, but all she saw was sincerity. warmth spread through her chest, and for the first time in a long time, she felt like she could breathe. she squeezed wonyoung’s hand, a slow smile forming on her lips.

“together,” she agreed.

wonyoung let out a soft laugh, her eyes shimmering. “you have no idea how long i’ve been waiting to hear that.

y/n chuckled, pulling her closer. “well, you’re going to have to wait a little longer… because i’m going to kiss you first.”

wonyoung’s breath hitched, but she didn’t pull away. “then what are you waiting for?”

y/n didn’t need to be told twice. she closed the distance between them, capturing wonyoung’s lips in a kiss that was slow, deep, and full of everything they had been too afraid to say.

this time, there were no contracts, no expectations—just them.

#jang wonyoung x fem reader #wonyoung x reader #jang wonyoung #ive wonyoung #wonyoung jang #kpop gg x reader #kpop #sugar mommy! wonyoung #ive #ive x reader #ceo! wonyoung #sugar baby! reader

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heavysighing-dreamyeyes · 7 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.

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."

"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.

"Todd, your date 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.

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.

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.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #best friend jason todd

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b1gtimerush · 2 years 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.

#rp meme #rp memes #rp prompt #rp prompts #inbox meme #inbox memes #setting prompts #ask meme #ask memes #bigtimeprompts.

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gyeomsweetgyeom · 3 months ago

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[8:09 pm]

(cw: f!reader)

The car rumbled down the street, a cold silence filled the car. You started out the passenger window while husband!Renjun looked at you from the corner of his eye.

It had been a rough afternoon for the two of you. Renjun failed to tell you about a huge gala he had for work that night even though you had already both agreed to celebrate your wedding anniversary tonight. Your anniversary celebration that had already rescheduled since Renjun would be out of town. You knew this wasn’t his fault exactly, he couldn’t control when he had to leave for work but the idea of spending your first wedding anniversary alone didn’t feel nice.

The gala though, that was his fault entirely. He swore he told you but there were no texts, emails, and nothing in the calendar you both kept up to date. Not to mention that he had told you it was black tie with only 3 hours until he had to be there.

You had wasted half an hour of that time arguing, another hour and a half getting ready and the last hour walking around department stores and boutiques looking for a dress that fit the dress code. And Renjun had been a major pain in your ass the entire time!

He would excitedly tell you found something and when you turned he would be holding a bright, gaudy dress with entirely too many ruffles. He did that countless times and each time you fell for it. You were already annoyed that he had waited until the last second, annoyed that the reservations you had planned were now useless, and annoyed that you had to spend your honorary wedding anniversary shmoozing Renjun’s coworkers.

He tried to make you laugh, tried to compliment you, talk to you like everything was ok but you wouldn’t budge! He sighed, fingers tapping at the steering wheel nervously, “you really do look beautiful. That dress fits you perfectly.”

You huffed like a grumpy child, “no, it doesn’t. It’s too long and the chest is too big.”

“Well, I can’t tell, you look gorgeous.”

“Another thing you don’t pay attention to,” you murmur under your breath.

Renjun sighs, pulling into the front of the venue and sliding out of the car to give the keys to the valet. The valet gets to your door before he can, but he can feel his nerves calm when you hook your arm through his. He tried to help you fix the skirt of your dress but you swatted his hands away.

He groaned under his breath, fine, if you wanted to be petty, he could be even more petty. He knew he messed up, but geez woman! How many time were you going to make him apologize?!

He straightened out his bow tie and entered the venue with you on his arm. He smiled at one of his bosses and walked over, “Mr. Lim! So good to see you again! I don’t know if you remember but this is my darling wife.” His hand squeezed your waist as he drawled out the word “darling.” You smiled and introduced yourself to the older man, standing by as the ever interested wife as they both made small talk.

Every introduction that followed was the same. You were Renjun’s beloved wife, his dear wife, his sweet wife, the wife he adored and with every introduction you felt the genuine disappointment from earlier melt into mild, playful annoyance.

After Renjun had had enough of introductions and led the two of you to your seats you finally took the bait. “I know what you’re doing Mr. Huang, just because you describe me with all these cute little adjectives doesn’t mean you’re forgiven.”

Renjun hides a smile from behind the rim of his glass, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh! This is my precious wife who I love with my whole heart and soul, do you remember her?” You mimic in a low growl.

Renjun laughs brightly, “I don’t sound like that! And I didn’t gush about you like that.”

“You basically did. Now everyone here knows who wears the pants in this marriage.”

Renjun grabs your hands and waits for you to look at him. When you do you find his gaze soft and apologetic, “I really am sorry. It completely slipped my mind and in the future I will absolutely stay on top of keeping you informed. Can you find it in that big, beautiful heart of yours to forgive me?”

You fiddled with the wedding band on his ring finger, “I’m more annoyed that you kept pulling hideous dresses when we didn’t have a lot of time to get here.”

“I will never, and I mean never, give you fake fashion advice again.”

“Well, I’m sorry for throwing a fit about it too. I accept your apology, my favorite husband.”

“Hey! I’m your only husband. Forever.”

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dcxdpdabbles · 1 month ago

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Hi, would it be possible for you to write something about stephxdanny where danny has an ice core and can only visit steph in the winter season, usually in the other seasons they talk through a laptop that danny made with the help of tucker? or something like that, have a nice day.

Steph has been counting down to the first day of winter. She had worked her ass off to make sure all cases she was assigned were completed.

She spoke to her teachers beforehand, asking for any classwork they would give her. Steph had even informed her mother that she would be on a trip so she would not have to worry about her (or listen to her lectures) for a while.

She had told Bruce she wanted to be benched for a couple of days. He seemed almost relieved by her request, letting her know they would only call upon her in an emergency.

Everything was all set for when Danny would arrive. She will be taking her boyfriend on a winter wonderland tour in Gotham. Each section of the city had little festivals, events, and fun holes in the walls.

Danny will arrive on time this year for the winter arts festival. Disregarding the few booths dedicated to Christmas decorations- as Danny hated that holiday with a burning passion due to years of resentment. He only associated bad members of his parents arguing around that time- there were many things she knows he adored.

Like those natural soaps from Mrs. Miller on Street Nine or the unique winter edition fudges from O'Malley's Bakery.

There is so much excitement coursing through her veins that she has to do the most push-ups until she's so tired she has to go to bed. Otherwise, Steph will never get a wink of sleep and will be too exhausted to enjoy seeing her boyfriend again.

In the morning, Danny will be going through the portal. The thought whispers in her mind and a large grin blooms. Not caring for the sweat pouring down her face or the slight shake in her arms, Steph thinks about it repeatedly.

Pumping her arms up and down, she giggles as butterflies flutter in her belly.

The following day, she gets up earlier than usual to shower, shave, and spend an hour on her hair. Usually, she doesn't bother that much, as her hair isn't too hard to manage. A good comb with a headband was her usual go-to style, but today, she wanted to curl it and braid some snowflakes into it.

Steph had taken ages picking out a good outfit. She usually dressed well, but this would be the first time she would see Danny in nearly a year. Who could blame her for wanting to look good?

She skipped out of her house, going to the oldest cemetery in Gotham. The place where she first met Danny all those years ago, ignoring the stun looks she received on the street. It wasn't often that she did her make-up that wasn't stubble or that she forgo casual wear, but when she did well, she knew she was a knockout.

It's something the Waynes always played up at the galas. There was a danger to being this pretty; she knew that better than most in places like Crime Alley, but Steph knew that if she thought she looked good, why not show it off if she felt good?

There was nothing vain in being comfortable and happy in your own skin. Steph would kick the ass of anyone who said otherwise.

Her strike was long and confident as she slowly entered Old Gotham. The buildings started to look less metal and glass, turning into red bricks and wooden beams. She takes a moment to appreciate the buildings, breathe in the lovely winter air, and take in the sounds of the city slowly coming to life.

There wasn't a lot of foot traffic in Old Gotham, seeing as most of the stuff here was protected for historical tours, some courtrooms, and the occasional little shops and restaurants.

It could have been a good tourist place, but when people came to Gotham, they tended to go further into the city where all the chain stores, newer buildings, and shopping malls were. It was why Steph had run away to her when she was fourteen. She knew that most people who visited Old Gotham were either retired or locals.

Half the time, the streets only had a few people walking them, looking into windows of small businesses or taking pictures of the old buildings. She had figured none of them would care if she ran away from home after her shitty dad got too drunk once.

Steph had been young then, too small to start her Spoiler crusade on her Da, and had chosen life on the streets as better than that hateful place. She had wandered into the cemetery, climbing into a mausoleum to escape the snowstorm that passed through the city, and sitting with he back against the coffin, feeling small and miserable.

She had never been one to fear the cemetery or the dead. She knew that living men were much worse, but even she had screamed when the coffin's lid had suddenly slid off, revealing a bright green light.

The portal inside the coffin would open at winter's first noon, then close on winter's last noon.

She remembers stumbling backward, too frightened to think correctly and run, when a head slowly reached out of the portal, gripping the side of the coffin, and a boy her age heaving himself out of the coffin with a grunt. His snow-white heart sparkled in the portal's glow, his slightly tan skin blemish-free, and his glowing green eyes pinned her to her place.

He was the definition of beauty. If it had been a movie scene, she knew the musical theme for him would have been flutes, harps and singing angles harmonizing as he slowly smiled at her.

She threw the brick she picked up in the alley as hard as she could at his face. Danny's head snapped back, nose breaking, and a gush of green blood oozed from his face as he cried out, "Why!?"

Steph pulled out the gun she had stolen from her father, aiming it at the boy who swearing and cursing up a storm from his little portal. He froze when he saw it aimed at him, the sound of her releasing the safety loud in the small stone room.

Neither mentions the slight shake in her fingers- before Bruce trained the fear out of her- as she glared at him. "Dead things should stay dead."

Then Danny had done what made her fall for him. He made two finer guns at her while narrowing his eyes. "You pull that trigger, and I'll pull mine."

"What? I have a gun!" She snapped only to watch him smirk with enough mischievous glee in his eyes that it felt like a slap. How was something dead able to seem more alive than she was?

"So does most of America. You ain't special." The boy taunted, and for some reason, that made her laugh so hard that she ended up on the floor wheezing. The conversation had been much smoother when she wasn't aiming a weapon at him.

She discovered that he was a being that could only visit her world during winter through the means of an ancient society that long ago vanished from history. He went by the name Danny. He could snap his fingers and shift into a human-looking boy, and the most surprising fact about him was that he genuinely seemed to love how different humans lived in Gotham.

She had gotten so used to how her city was terrible that she had forgotten what was good about it. The sights she saw in everyday mundane life were something Danny had waited a whole year, saving up every penny, to see.

She also found out he had the money and the smarts to get them a nice warm hotel room- separated by a door- and a love for peppermint lattes. He offered her cash to help him explore the city, and the rest, as they say, was history.

Now, three years later, every winter, Steph compiles a list of places to go, things to do, and people to meet, rekindling the love for her city burning brightly in her chest.

She protected this city by stopping her dad and breaking his plans. Her spite and hate for him was the reason.

But Danny had turned into the motivation. Into her heart. That kept her going because he saw this place- and her- as something worth crossing the realms to.

She places the two letters and a warm pastry bag on the ground. She sits down, crosses her legs, and checks her watch again. There are only five more minutes till the clock strikes noon.

Steph leans back, eyes on the lid of the coffin, waiting for a movement that will alert her that her heart has returned for another incredible three months.

Danny can't stay once winter ends; just like the snow-white of his hair, he will melt in the spring. He warned her long ago that if she really wanted to give her heart to him, then it would suffer bruises of their distance. He would care for her and her heart as much as he could, but there were rules to this world that did not allow him to truly become a part of it.

She had told him that no matter how long it would be, she would love him through each season, year, and moment she drew breath. No matter how long it's been, she will always be sitting in this exact spot again and again, every year, for this moment.

The moment winter returned him to her.

The coffin shakes a little as a familiar glow shines through the small cracks.

#dcxdpdabbles #mun speaks #Over and Over again #Part 1 #MemeLords #Danny fell in love with a girl who's portal only opens for three months #Steph met someone who reminded her why life is precious #No one knows about her winter lover #It just never came up #“In another life I would hav e loved to do Taxes and Laundry with you”#He can't stay

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uniquexusposts · 2 months ago

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But they still cheated | M. Verstappen (3)

Summary: Y/n finds out about a massive family drama; a cheating scandal. When she is lost, Max comforts her

Part 1 Part 2

The car pulled up to the grand hotel, its façade glowing in soft gold light against the Monaco evening. The charity gala was already buzzing, with photographers lining the red carpet and an endless sea of elegantly dressed guests streaming inside.

Y/n checked her clutch for the hundredth time and sighed nervously, watching as her dad stepped out first, his ever-present charm lighting up his face as he greeted the cameras. “Alright, kids,” he said over his shoulder, “let’s give them a show.”

Leon rolled his eyes but stepped out next, his usual relaxed demeanour giving way to a polished confidence. Y/n hesitated for a moment, the weight of the evening pressing down on her chest. Then, with a deep breath, she slid out of the car, the bright flashes instantly assaulting her senses.

They posed together as a family, their smiles practiced and perfect. Y/n’s dad was known as a famous journalist and later turned into a TV personality, who was very loved by the audience. Y/n and Leon were also known by the audience, since they had a reality TV show. Y/n stayed more in the background of the show, but the people knew her. Y/n’s dad cracked a joke that made the photographers laugh, easing the tension momentarily. But Y/n couldn’t shake the feeling of being under a microscope, every move scrutinised, every glance analysed.

“You’re doing great,” Leon muttered to her as they moved inside. She nodded, forcing a smile, but her stomach churned. “If you need anything, come to me, okay? We can leave whenever you want.”

“It’s not necessary,” she whispered.

Once inside, the sensory overload only intensified. The crowd was dense, the room warm, and the laughter and conversations merged into an overwhelming cacophony. Her dad and Leon immediately began mingling, slipping into conversations with ease. Y/n tried to follow, pasting on a polite smile as introductions were made, but her chest felt tight, and her hands couldn’t stay still.

A woman approached her, all smiles and sparkling jewels. “It’s so wonderful to see your family out and about again,” she said, her voice dripping with faux sincerity. “The media’s been relentless, hasn’t it? How are you holding up?”

Y/n’s smile faltered. “I… we’re doing fine. Thank you for asking.”

“Will there be a new season of your show soon? Will the drama be in it?”

Y/n’s lips parted, not knowing how the respond to the questions. “Uh… I… The filming is on a break until further notice.”

The woman nodded, clearly fishing for more, but Y/n excused herself before the questions could continue. Her heart was pounding, and the room felt unbearably hot. She weaved through the crowd, the noise growing louder, the lights brighter, until she stumbled into a quiet hallway, gasping for air.

She wasn’t ready for this. If no one asked about the situation, it would be fine, but of course, everyone wanted to know everything about it. The media turned their situation upside down, making assumptions. And once they spotted Bianca and Patrick walking, hand in hand, in a baby store, hell broke loose. This might be the biggest media breakup and plot twist of the year. Bianca and Patrick got cancelled, Y/n, het brother and her father received a lot of love and support.

Once she walked to the bathroom, she locked the door behind her, closed the toilet seat and sat down on it. Her eyes closed and she took a deep breath, trying to steady her breathing. The gala’s noise seemed to echo in her head, every laugh and clink of glass a hammer against her skull. She squeezed her eyes shut, but the tears came anyway, hot and unstoppable.

Do not cry. Do not ruin your makeup.

Y/n stayed in the stall, her breathing slowing as she tried to steady herself. The world outside the bathroom felt like an entirely different reality; loud, demanding, and relentless. In here, the quiet wrapped around her like a fragile cocoon, offering her a moment of peace she desperately needed.

Minutes passed, though it felt like hours. Finally, she stood, smoothing out her dress and checking her reflection in the mirror. Her makeup was miraculously intact, but her eyes were a little red, her expression strained.

She unlocked the bathroom door and stepped outside. As she closed the door behind her, her eyes fell on someone who sat on the couch in the hallway. The man looked up, his brow furrowed with concern. Y/n plastered a smile on her face.

“Hi,” she greeted him and walked towards him. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you. Are you okay?”

A frown formed on her face, but then she realised he was also invited to this gala, and that he was not just here for only here. Selfish. “Yeah, yes, I’m fine,” she nodded.

“How was your mental breakdown in there?” The question was direct, but what else could she expect from Max?

“Absolutely gorgeous,” she replied and put up her thumb.

He chuckled softly, shaking his head as he leaned back on the couch. “Gorgeous, huh? Glad to hear it was a showstopper.”

Y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips. Leave it to Max to diffuse her tension with humour. She sat down next to him, took a deep breath and looked at him. “Seriously, though, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be inside, mingling with all the important people?”

He shrugged, his expression softening. “Not really my scene. Plus, I saw you dart out, and you didn’t look like you were heading to make a phone call.”

“Fair,” she mumbled. “It was just… overwhelming in there. Too many questions, too many eyes.”

Max nodded, his eyes steady on hers. “Yeah, I figured. That’s why I waited. Thought you might need someone to talk to - or at least someone to drag you out of here if you wanted to leave.”

Her gaze flickered to the grand ballroom door at the end of the hall. The idea of going back in felt suffocating. “I don’t know,” she admitted quietly.

“Then don’t go back,” Max said simply, standing and slipping his hands into his pockets. “Let’s leave. I’ll take you home.”

She blinked at him, surprised by how easily he offered an escape. “You don’t have to do that. I can find a way-”

“I want to,” he interrupted, his tone firm but not overbearing. “You shouldn’t have to deal with this alone.”

Her lips parted as she searched for an argument, but none came. She was tired, her shoulders heavy with the weight of the evening. “Okay,” she said finally, her voice soft.

Max nodded, his expression resolute. “Good. Let me text Leon and your dad, so they don’t freak out.”

While he pulled out his phone, Y/n got up and stretched her back, watching him type. She felt a twinge of guilt for leaving her family behind, but the thought of Max’s quiet, calming presence was far more appealing than the chaos inside. But then, because of her, he was willing to leave to bring her home.

Once he was done, he looked at her. He stuck out his hand and only started to walk once she hold his hand. They slipped out of the hotel, taking the back entrance to avoid the press. His car got driven to the back of the entrance. Max gave the guy a small tip.

As he opened the car door for her, she hesitated. “Thank you,” she said softly, meeting his gaze. “For…” She took a pause, trying to find the right words. “Everything.”

He smiled, a faint curve of his lips that warmed her. “Always.”

The ride back to her apartment was quiet, the low hum of the car engine filling the space. Y/n looked outside, watching the glow of Monaco’s city lights blur past. She felt drained, her thoughts tangled and heavy, but the steady presence of Max beside her was grounding.

He drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually on the console. His posture was relaxed, but she could tell he was keeping an eye on her, stealing glances when he thought she wouldn’t notice.

When they reached the apartment, Max parked the car in front of the entrance and turned off the engine. He glanced at her, his expression soft but unreadable under the dim glow of the streetlights.

“Here we are,” he said gently.

Y/n bit her lip to not make a stupid comment, now was not the time. “Thank you,” she said and opened the door. “I really appreciate everything you have done for me,” she mentioned and looked over her shoulder.

“You’ve thanked me enough already,” he replied, a small smile playing on his lips. “That’s what friends do.” He cleared his throat. “Can I maybe use your bathroom?”

“Yes, of course,” she answered and got out of the car.

They made their way up to her apartment, the elevator ride filled with a comfortable silence. Once inside, Y/n kicked off her shoes and let out a sigh of relief. As she walked inside, he heard Max walking to the toilet. Y/n put her clutch on the dining table and turned on the oven, to preheat it for the snacks she grabbed from the freezer.

Y/n moved quietly around her kitchen, the clinking of trays and the hum of the oven filling the apartment. She was grateful for the few moments to herself, giving her a chance to gather her thoughts. Tonight had been overwhelming, but knowing Max was there somehow made it easier to bear.

When Max emerged from the bathroom, he found her leaning against the counter, her arms crossed as she stared at the oven timer counting down. He washed his hands and took off the bow, opening the first few buttons of his shirt.

“Do you want to stay a bit longer? It’s a bittergarnituur. It’s from the oven, not a deep fryer, though,” she offered.

His jaw dropped and he gasped dramatically, making things more dramatic. “How can I say no to a bittergarnituur?” He smirked. “How even did you get it here?” Bittergarnituur was a typical Dutch snack consisting of a combination of fried meat and cheese.

“I have my ways,” she smiled. “At home, at dad’s, we have an entire freezer just for Dutch snacks. Highly recommend that.”

Max laughed. “And to think that your dad isn’t even Dutch at all.”

“Yeah, but somehow the bittergarnituur stuck to him.”

Her dad was Irish and her mother was Dutch.

After a few minutes, the snacks were ready and they sat down at the dining table, enjoying the Dutch snacks that reminded them of their childhood. Especially when taking a bite of the bitterbal, way too hot, and gasping for cool air to cool it down. They luckily could laugh about it.

“Do you have a busy week coming up?” Max curiously asked when dipping a snack in curry sauce.

“Yeah, but then I have a long weekend off,” she mentioned. “Two early morning shifts and three evening shifts.”

He nodded. “You know what I like about you: you have a degree in communications and you work on the platform at the airport, just living life, doing what you love instead what is planned our for you.”

A smile of appreciation grew on her face. “Why would I want to work in a sector that doesn’t want to hire me?” She shrugged. “It isn’t glamorous, but at least I have fun, I earn enough money and I have the opportunity to start a new study next year.”

“Oh? For what?”

“Air traffic controller.”

The corners of Max’ mouth curled up and he raised his hand. “You go, Y/n/n!” He held her hand for a couple of seconds when she gave him a high-five. The shy, but proud smile on Y/n’s face brought Max joy; it was the first bright smile he saw in weeks. “That is amazing.”

Y/n felt a blush creep up her neck at his enthusiastic response, but she couldn’t help the genuine smile that spread across her face. “Thank you,” she said, her voice soft but filled with gratitude. “I don’t want to ruin the vibe, but do you know what Patrick said?”

Max tilted his head, his expression instantly shifting to concern. “What did he say?”

Y/n sighed, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of a napkin. “He told me that I’m wasting my potential. That working at the airport is beneath me, and I should be doing something more… prestigious.” She mimicked his tone, her voice dripping with disdain.

Max’s brows furrowed, his jaw tightening. “That’s fucking ridiculous. Who is he to decide what’s right for you?” He sighed. “Jesus, what a dickhead. Y/n, with all due respect, you’re better off without him.”

Y/n blinked at Max’s blunt response, a little startled but not entirely surprised. He always had a way of cutting through the noise. “Yeah,” she said softly, her voice wavering. “It’s just… hard, you know? Hearing it from someone you trusted.”

He leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table as he studied her, his expression serious. “I get that,” he said, his voice lower now, almost tender. “But trust me when I say that anyone who can’t see how incredible you are doesn’t deserve you. Patrick’s loss is… someone else’s gain.”

She tilted her head, her brows knitting together. “What do you mean?”

He hesitated, his fingers drumming lightly on the table before he let out a quiet laugh, almost self-deprecating. “I mean, someone who sees you for who you really are. Not for what they want you to be or what they think you should be doing.” He paused, his gaze locking with hers. “Someone who knows how lucky they had be to have you in their life.”

Her breath caught, the weight of his words sinking in as a warmth spread through her chest. She tried to find something to say, but nothing came out.

He leaned back slightly, his lips quirking into a small, almost shy smile. “Look, all I’m saying is… you deserve better than Patrick. Way better.”

Her heart thudded in her chest as his words lingered between them. It wasn’t a direct confession, but the way he looked at her; the softness in his eyes, the quiet certainty in his voice, made it feel like more.

Y/n cleared her throat, forcing herself to focus on the moment rather than overthinking his words. “Well,” she said, trying to lighten the mood, “I guess that means I’ll just have to keep eating bitterballen with you until I figure it out.”

Max chuckled, the tension breaking as he grabbed another snack from the plate. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

But as they continued eating, their laughter filling the room, Y/n couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted. And when Max’s gaze lingered on hers for a beat too long, she wondered if he felt it too.

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos @crashingwavesofeuphoria @maryvibess @ironmaiden1313 @blodwyn4u @sltwins @heart-trees @npcmia @llando4norris

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