#if you saw this before no the fuck you didn't

[ebodebo]

Hot For Teacher!

—professor!simon riley teaching anatomy… MDNI

(DISCLAIMER: in this fic, the reader is getting their master's, so reader is an adult! that said, this is still a student-professor relationship, so beware!)

"I heard he was from Germany….or somewhere."

"He's probably sooo old."

"I can't find his rate my professor anywhere!"

"I heard he only has one leg!"

Murmurs can be heard spread around the room; your fellow graduates flooded the lecture hall seats, not an empty seat out of fifty in site. They were itching with anticipation and anxiously awaiting the arrival of your new gross anatomy professor, including yourself.

You were even more nervous than when you had to present your senior thesis for your bachelor's to four of the most knowledgeable, bright minds you had ever come into contact with.

That was intimidating, but this somehow feels worse. You find yourself sinking into the squeaky plastic chair, praying that whoever walks through that door is as gracious and kind as your last professor.

Heavy steps echoed down the hallway, slowly and steadily etching closer and closer to the room you sat in. Your eyes nervously shifted up to look at the wide open front door, and you tapped your foot, restlessly, to a non-existent beat in your head.

The footsteps became louder and louder until the man finally stood in the doorway, sparing the class not even a singular glance. He steadily turned to the right and walked up to the chalkboard, back towards the class, carefully etching something onto the board with a small piece of chalk.

The murmurs around the room seized as the screeching noise of the chalk against the board bounced off the walls and went straight into everyone's eardrums.

It was a quick, illegible scribble.

He set the piece of chalk down and turned to face the class, eyes roaming around the room, allowing you to get a better look at him.

He wore a black surgical mask just below his nose, covering his lips and jaw. And, God, was he tall. He had to be at least six-two, maybe even six-four. He wore a charcoal gray button-up tight enough to display his broad shoulders and buff biceps, with kaki cargo pants that did nothing to hide his thick thighs. 

Fuck, he was hot.

"Your last professor was quite lenient," his gravelly voice echoes around the room as he begins, leaning his hip on the table before him. "Don't expect that from me."

His eyes roamed some more, and the murmurs you heard about how hot he was seized as he spoke again. "If you think this class will be easy, you're sorely mistaken. Excellence is the bare minimum I expect from each of you," he sternly says. "I don't tolerate excuses. You're in the wrong place if you can't meet the deadlines."

You didn't know the first time meeting your professor would just end up with him lecturing you about his obscure conditions and rules like this was a damn military base.

You try to remember if this course was even required for your degree: it is.

"If you miss class, don't bother returning," he continues. The mood in the room had shifted entirely. There was no excitement left; it had been completely sucked out and replaced by regret and anguish. You swore you even saw some people with their computers quickly going to your university's directory, hoping they could still withdraw from a course.

"Lastly, mediocrity has no place in here. Push yourselves or find another course," he gruffed, pushing himself off the desk he leaned on and maneuvering back over to the chalkboard.

"What are the instructions on the board?" Your eyes snapped to a random girl raising her hand adjacent to you, and you were surprised by her bravery in speaking.

The professor glanced at the girl.

“Ah, yes. These are instructions on how to withdraw from this course if you so choose," he said. "Save me the headache and you, your dignity, and withdraw now if you cannot abide by my terms," he almost seemed disinterested. "Also, you will call me Dr. Riley."

He picked up the chalk, quickly etching a strand of words onto it. "These are my office hours," he says, setting the chalk back down. "Any questions?" He asked, turning to face the class.

Not a single peep can be heard. There was only a tiny squeak from one of the chairs. He crosses his arms. "Alright. Quiz tomorrow. Class dismissed," he concludes. You freeze up in your chair as everyone around you starts moving as quickly as possible to get out of there.

You're wondering what you learned today that could be material for a quiz. Instead of waiting behind to ask, you shuffle your things in a bag and speed walk out of there.

This was going to be a long semester.

It was three months in, and this class was kicking your ass. 

No, that's not right. The class was outwardly blistering your entire existence. You pulled countless all-nighters to try and keep up with the material, but it was too much. There weren't enough hours in the day to study the copious amount of material.

It didn't help that Dr. Riley was a bit of a dick. He gave no leniency. Can't make the exam? Too bad. F. Didn't make class? Yikes. Get ready to recite the last lecture in front of the class when you return! Can't answer a question he asks? Well, well, it looks like we have a slacker on our hands. Have a lovely time writing an entire essay on the topic question you failed to answer!

"Can anyone explain the process of bone repair following a fracture?" Dr. Riley questions, taking his eyes off the chalkboard and turning towards the now half-full class. You snap out of your daydream, carefully looking back to your computer to continue typing what he writes.

Everyone averts their eyes from him to avoid getting called on. "No takers?" He asks once more, eyes narrowing slightly. You look over the top of your computer, eyes wondering over the messy array of notes he wrote to try and decipher them. "You," he says, flicking a finger towards you. "Give it a go."

Your eyes flick to his before widening in horror. Shit. You hadn't even gone over this week's slides because you were still working on the hundreds of slides from last week. 

"Preferably today," he raises a brow, impatience written all over his face, crossing his arm over his chest. You take a deep breath, quickly scan your notes, and sublimely thank God you found what you needed.

"Well, first the bone goes through clot formation, then callus formation, then new bone tissue forms, then finally the bone remodels," you explain, issuing a polite smile after you finish, breathing out a sigh of relief as he nods.

"Uh-huh. It's a very interesting process. And do you know which of those processes has the longest duration?" He says blandly. You tilt your head a little, surprised to see he has another question.

"Well, I think that would be the bone remodeling," you affirm, shifting in your seat a little.

"And the shortest?" He quickly supplements. 

"Clot formation?" You say unsurely. 

"You seem unsure of your answer. Do you truly think it is clot formation?" He crosses his arms over his chest. 

You were sure of it, but then again, why would he ask you if you thought it was wrong if it was right? You open your eyes wider, almost like you have just had an epiphany. "I—no. It's callus formation," you say matter-of-factly.

"Incorrect," he says, uncrossing his arms and turning his back to you. "I suggest trusting your instincts next time." You sink deeper into your chair, hoping that somehow it will shield you from his scrutiny. 

"On that note, class dismissed." You quickly gather your belongings, but not before Dr. Riley pulls you aside to assign you a three-page, single-spaced essay about the formation of a bone after having a fracture due in two days.

"Also, be sure to discuss clot formation heavily," his voice carries a condescending tone. "So that when you present to the class, they understand the concept better than you did." 

Your brows furrow a little. "Wait, I do understand—" You begin, though he interrupts.

"That's all," he cooly says, turning to grab his things from the desk in the front before switching the light switch off and stepping around you to leave the room. "See you and your paper Wednesday." You scowled as he turned away from you to go to his office.

This was such bullshit. You answered all his question, but God forbid you answer one incorrectly—well, not even incorrectly; he just made you feel it was wrong.

This was far from over.

"Dr. Riley. I, um, I don't understand why I have to write an essay," you found yourself saying later that day in his office, around six p.m. or so, when most of the faculty had already called it a night and left. His eyes stayed laser-focused on some papers he was going over.

"You didn't answer my question," he says, scribbling something on the paper. 

You find yourself coming in, shutting the door behind you, and sitting on the chair before his desk. "Yes, I did. I answered all one hundred of them," you say matter-of-factly. The corners of his eyes crinkle as they finally flick to yours, clearly amused by your exaggeration. 

"One hundred, huh?" He sets the pen down, leaning back in his chair, threading his fingers together. Your eyes wander to his arms. He had rolled up his sleeves to reveal his veiny forearms covered in tattoos. 

You flick your eyes back to eyes in a panic, praying he didn't notice you essentially checking him out. "Yes, sir," you tried to keep your voice even.

"So, you want out of an essay I assigned to you? 

"I—well. I was hoping…" You trail off, eyes averting his.

"No," his tone is authoritative, final. You release a small breath, sagging into the chair, feeling defeated. However, you caught your eyes wandering back to his forearms before moving up to his biceps. Fuck. They would have busted out of his button-down if they were any bigger.

He was a massive asshole. But, so fucking hot nonetheless. Had the most enormous thighs and arms you'd ever seen. Taller than anyone you'd ever met. Had a gruff, thick English accent you drooled over. Not to mention his raging ego, which did something for you.

"What is it?" Your eyes snap to his. Oh, God. Not again. 

"Nothing," you said quickly. He looked puzzled. You sat back in the chair, smiling awkwardly. He followed, leaning back in his seat and spreading his legs wider to get more comfortable.

You find your eyes drifting down, observing his clothed cock in his pants. "Nothing? Huh?" The corner of his lip quirks. You stare back at him; your face is hot, and your hands are clammy.

This time, there was no denying what it was you were ogling so intently. 

"Listen," he sits up a bit, placing his elbows on his desk and threading his fingers together. "I sympathize with your situation." You raise a brow because there is no way in hell he was sympathetic. His lip quips at your expression. "So, I believe I have a solution to your dilemma." That has you perking up in your seat, feeling a sense of hope.

"It's a bit...unorthodox," he mumbles, eyes boring into yours.

You squint your eyes in confusion. "Okay..." You trail off uneasily, sitting up a little straighter. "What did you have in mind?" He tilts his head up a little, carefully observing your face, before standing up and gripping the knot of the tie and carefully pulling it down so it rests lazily on his sternum. 

"Tell me," he prompts, easing his way around his desk to lean against the side you sit in front of. "What is it that caught your attention earlier?" You raise a brow, not only at his new position but also at his question.

"Pardon?" You prod. He lets out a small, scruffy, breathy laugh, crossing his arms over his chest and showcasing his huge biceps again. You release a slight breath as your eyes wander back to his arms. He tilts his head back as he examines your facial expression, dragging his eyes down your line of sight. He gives a breathy laugh as he realizes you are shamelessly checking him out. 

"Mhm," he hums. You snap your eyes to him in an instant, though this time you aren't embarrassed at the notion of him catching you. No. You wanted him to notice. Maybe, just maybe, then he'd finally find the courage to fuck you over his desk like you'd wanted since the first day he had arrived. "Your mind seems elsewhere," he observes.

"No, I'm—I'm just thinking," you whir, sitting in your chair.

He tilts his head back slightly. "What about?" His tone dripped with condescendence. He most definitely knew. He could read you like one of those fancy anatomy books he frequented. You lean back in your chair, legs spreading ever so slightly. His eyes glided to leer at your slightly agape legs. 

God, you had on that little fucking skirt you wore every so often. The damned thing was a couple of pieces of denim fabric. Not too short, but, ya, if you opened your legs at just the right angle, you could get a nice shot of your panties underneath. How lucky for your professor, who was at the receiving end of that.

"Oh, I don't know. Just things, you know?" You spread your legs just a little wider, and you swear you hear him release a breath. "It's the first day of fall tomorrow. Did you know that?" You casually say, spreading your legs that much further so he could get a better view of the wet spot already growing in your panties at him watching you. 

"I did." His voice was dry; he was surprised to get a damn word out. 

"Crazy, huh? Also, I'm thinking about our lecture tomorrow. What's it going to be on anyway?" You find yourself dragging your hand up your leg to the buttons of your shirt, carefully unclasping each of them gently. He could feel his cock straining against his jeans seeing you, legs spread, fingers fiddling with your cute little button-up top with frilly sleeves.

"Sexual reproduction," he gruffs, fingers moving to undo the buttons on his shirt. You get the final button of your shirt unclasped, carefully sliding it off and onto the floor, revealing a lacy bra that matches your panties. You honestly thought you'd be more nervous, but with a guy that hot and educated staring at you like you were the sexiest thing alive, how could you be?

"Maybe I should get a head-start, no?" You proposed as he unclasped his final button, slipping his shirt entirely off. Good-God. The man was chiseled and hairy. The scars etched into his skin only made him that much sexier. He reached for his tie next. "No, no. Leave it on," you voice, getting up from your chair to stand before him. 

His greedy hands instantly sought refuge on your waist, dragging his fingertips along the waistband of your panties, giving them a little pull. You release a slight whine as the elastic slaps back onto your skin.

"Like fuckin' music to my ears," he groans, pulling you flush to his body, ripping his mask off to encapsulate your lips with his hungry ones. 

You yelp into his mouth at the sudden sensation, though you find yourself getting into a rough rhythm. His hand's paw at your ass as yours covetously grips his shoulders. Although you were flush against him, you sought more contact. "I need—I need," you whined in his mouth. 

"Need me to what? Say it," he urged, hands slipping to thread through your hair, pulling it gently. Your mouth falls agape at the action, allowing him to slip his tongue in your mouth. You moan into his mouth once more.

"I need you to—to," you stutter, unable to speak from how out of breathe you were.

"Say it," he hissed, pulling your hair harder.

"Fuck me. Please," you finally managed to say. He wasted no time picking you up by the back of the thighs and hastily placing you on his desk, flinging the loose papers and books that dawned it on the floor.

You reached between you to undo his belt and pant button as he slipped your panties down so they dangled loosely around your ankles. 

Your lips never disconnecting once. 

Once you got his pants undown and he your panties, he gripped your waist, hoisting you so he could pound his cock into you. You both moan at the contact, gripping each other tighter.

"Fuck," he groans, "Feel so good." You press your lips back to his as he makes work pummeling into you, his hands digging into the flesh of your hips to get as much friction as he can.

You were sure you'd have purple and blue bruises tomorrow.

He brings his mouth to nip and kiss at the side of your neck, his teeth gently grazing against the sensitive skin. "Drivin' me fuckin' insane," he grits, teeth nipping your skin again. You whined, bringing your hands to thread through his hair.

"I drive you insane?" You breathe out, dumbfounded, his cock still sliding in and out of you at a hurried pace. His tongue brushes your neck until it reaches your lips, quickly bullying itself into the sanctity of your mouth.

"Such a good student. Aren't you?" He gruffs into your lips; your mouth hangs agape at the feeling of him in you. "Always do such good work. Don't you, sweetheart?" You moan at his words; he presses a thumb to stimulate your clit. "Fuck—you, you drive me mad," he grits, moving his thumb faster.

You let a string of incoherent words, too caught up with his cock in you and thumb on you to form any real words.

"Huh? Ya, ya. But you must know that already. Or else you wouldn't have worn this—" he signals to the matching bra and panty set you had worn, "to meet with me," he finishes. You respond with another pathetic whimper, feeling your impending climax.

The moment he whispers into the shell of your ear, "Better come quick, or I may change my mind about that paper," you're a goner. You clamp around him at record speed, gripping his shoulders impossibly tighter, as you loudly moan in his mouth. His fingers dig deeper into the fat of your hips as his orgasm chases yours.

It takes both of you a second to catch your breaths, both heaving and chests rising with much pace. After you have caught your breath, he helps ease you off his desk, deftly reaching for your panties that slipped off your ankles in a frenzy and softly putting them back on you, followed by your skirt resting on the floor nearby.

You slipped your shirt back on, buttoning it as he focused on dressing himself. It didn't feel awkward like you had thought it was going to. Sure, it was quiet, but it was comforting. You grabbed your bookbag, giving him a slight smile as you walked over to the closed door. "I appreciate you meeting with me. See you tomorrow, Dr. Riley," you kindly say.

He nodded, pulling his tie to rest neatly on his neck. "Don't forget about the paper," he plainly said, moving to pick up some of the loose papers on the floor.

A confused expression overtook your face. "I thought—" you began.

"I don't play favorites, sweetheart," he interrupted. "Write the paper."

Okay, he was still a dick, but oh well, sure, you'd write the damn paper, maybe even put a couple of errors in it so that he could deduct some points off, and you could request to meet with him again.

Ya, that sounded like a fine plan indeed.

a/n: inspired by a lovely who commented on my poll about professor!simon <33 @aiqsa (this took me so long omg)

reblogs & comments are encouraged!

[the-flaneur]

the worst attempt of nnn ever

pairing: f1 grid x gn!reader [headcanon]

ft. the whole 2024 grid

summary: technically everyone wins, aka who's most likely to fail nnn the quickest

warnings: shitpost/crack, very suggestive content and some 18+, MDNI, NSFW -> smut

[masterlist] [requests]

fail first

lewis

this man has zero discipline when it comes to you

absolute zero, zip, zilch, nada

normally he's on you 24/7

but when it comes to the end of the season and most things have been tied up and he dgaf, what better way to end each week than by fucking your brains out

aka 25/8 times a week

so when you attempt to propose to do nnn "for fun" on the 31st, he glares at you, calls you dumb before fucking you silly overnight (until the 1st) so that you never suggest it again that month/year

(he also bribes other drivers and wags to make sure that you are NOT included in their nnn plans)

zhou

shockingly in second place

but only cause he loves you too much, finds nnn a weird tradition (when you explained the basics) and just wants to snuggle with you and sweetcorn in bed

like why make yourself unconfortable and horny when he could just be happy and satisfied (and still horny) with you :D

lando

man is so fired up about the championship battle that he doesn't entertain the notion and just fucks you the minute november starts just to make sure you know not to fuck with him

he only manages to hang onto longer than lewis and zhou cause he was tired and forgot what time it was

carlos

had planned on competing with lando, since they had done it the year before, and the year before that (aka when they were teamates)

but when he found out from you (who found out from lando's partner) that they had already failed, he said to try for a few days

you said you didn't want to

"but it might be good for us" carlos had complained, saying something no one had ever said

and so you just like seduced him like five days later then BAM WHAM, he's back to blowing your back out

not that he needed that much encouragement

pierre

just wanted to fuck you in peace for halloween after you showed up in a very hot outfit

but then charles was like oohhhh we should try this

(f u charles)

but then almost cried in the shower when he realised he couldn't jerk off either

you heard him whimpering, laughed about it and then sucked him off

he tried to hide it, but charles found out anyways

max

is usually too busy to fuck you during race weekends so, he just failed when he like normally fucked you

cause he wanted to fuck you

cause yeah...

so....yeah...

oscar

likes to pretend he's disciplined and has lots of mental restraint

(he doesn't have restraint when it comes to you)

tried to keep some distance, aka by not arriving together at the paddock

but then failed after he saw you with franco, got jealous, said f this shit and then took you in his driver's room

checo

didn't give two flying fucks

only got interested cause evens was talking about it

but throws the challenge out the windoow the minute you insinuate that he seems "weak" about you

kmag

thinks its childish but still wanted to try it

got actually comfortable with it, until you made a sexy joke

hulk

lasts longer cause kmag found it childish

but still wanted to try it too after kmag told him about it

ocon

just wanted to beat gasly

lance

wanted to fuck you

so he complained to his father about the challenge and how you were going give him a reward at the end

so evil stepmum kdrama style, lawerence comes in and tries to give you envelopes of cash to get you to fuck stroll

you gleefully refuse

you manage to negotiate three ashton martins, a ferrari laferrari, and more, before still teasing him

to which he just gives up, and waits for you

george

for those actually dedicated to doing it, he set up the betting pool and "official" rules

(no charles...touching and edging yourself is not "illegal" but you're running the sPIrIt of the challenge)

but like lost out in the second week, when he saw you were having an amazing hair day

said ok i wanna pull on it *with grabby hands* and then gave up

(everyone mocked him relentlessly afterwards)

valterri

super chill about it

tried it only cause you wanted to try it for fun

actually found it hard to be away from you (only cause you love him so much too)

but you managed to reach the third week before simply saying

"that's enough"

franco

had never heard of it

but defs wanted to try after he learnt a about it

got really pissed off by the second week cause you were also teasing him sooooo much

but you kept refusing

basically had to beg his way into convincing you "near" it, and only seeing him get really pouty did you give in

yuki

swears and glares daggers at you the entire three weeks

but he's gotta prove that big things come in small packages

and actually makes it almost to week four before passing out from sheer horniness

fernando

actually lasts longer than most people thought he would

(liam spitefully calls out that he thought nando's blue balls would fall off)

is happy he is technically the best wdc at nnn (even moreso that lewis lost first)

makes it to like the last couple of days

you get bored and tired

so now fernando is bored and tired and just fucks you

alex

certified genz brainrotter

ofc know what it is, and is demandin to win it and prove he's at least NOT a lost in one area (his words not yours)

makes it to the last few days, before you trick into letting you give him a handjob

tries to argue technicalities with george

but by then nov its over and he just gives up

charles

used all his ferrari training in patience to last this long

wanted to tell you to kys when you suggested it

but eventually he got soooo into doing it, he was policing you

however he losses cause he was stupid

you're on his jet

he forgets time zones exist

thought he won

sent a gloating text message to the gc

and [redacted] beats him on the technicality

liam

this man is going all in no regrets, gambling style 😎

even if he didn't propose it, he's definetly the most eager to prove himself (especially to fernando and checo)

he's setting up strict rules to ensure that his dick does not get anywhere near you when sleeping, eating or breathing

(in the last few days he desperately asks you to sleep in the guest bedroom cause he's this close 🤏 to caving in)

however, he resists and gets bragging rights over everyone for the rest of the year.

fail last/succeed

permanent f1 taglist (comment or msg me to join)

@charlesgirl16 @tallrock35 @sweate-r-weathe-r @unlikelystay @alex-wotton

@daisyfreecs @euphorihan @louloucs @oikarma @dying-inside-but-its-classy

@fadingcloudballoon

© the-flanuer || do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platform.

[karaeilishh]

DADDY?

SUMMARY: Your girlfriend is coming home after a music tour and she's mad. Maybe if you get down on your knees and be a good girl, she'll feel better?   

pairing: billie eilish x !fem reader 

WARNINGS: smut, !daddy dom billie, !sub reader, strap (r receiving), oral (r/billie receiving), daddy kink, pet names (princess, daddys girl, angel ect), orgasm control, begging, shes going crazy 

wc: 2.6k 

a/n: ik you saw it before but don’t mind. still apologize for the mistakes in the text, english is not my first language, enjoyyy 

music: angel – massive attack 

You were all alone at home, standing in front of the mirror completely naked. You loved looking at your body after a shower. Droplets of water flowed beautifully over your soft skin, your hair lay on your shoulders, your collarbones bulged slightly. Your body was very beautiful. And it wasn't just you who thought so. That's what the one for whom you spent an hour in the bathroom taking care of your body thought. The one for whom you are currently looking for the most beautiful set of underwear in your closet. A red lace one that barely covered your body’s private parts. Billie adored it. It was his absolute favorite. Just like you. In addition to your underwear, you put on a satin black dressing gown. It was short. It was driving Billy crazy.   

As for Billie, she was on her music tour for a few weeks, and you were so proud of her that you just couldn't help but give her a treat after a good job. You both knew who her treat was. You were ready to give yourself to her completely. Do whatever she wants, like you usually do. Like a good girl. You know she misses your perfect body like crazy. It's driving her crazy. Every time she comes home after a tour, she takes you as greedily and dirty as she can. And you will both enjoy this hunger for each other. Every week spent apart felt like sweet torture. Like thoughts of each other's warmth.   

You tried not to think about the morning photo she sent you anymore. It was just her hands with the caption “You can't even imagine what pleasure these hands will give you tonight.” It made you weak at the knees, the needy girl you've always been with Billy. You expected her to just come home hungry and playful, as she always was, but...   

When your phone started ringing, you smiled. You knew who the call was from. “Hi, my love” Your voice was soft, but playful at the same time. “Are you feeling well?” The voice on the other end of the phone was cold and harsh. You heard the noise of her car. She was on her way home.  

“Yes, I'm fine, and you?” You felt a little uneasy when your beloved wasn't as soft as usual. Your voice was quieter, and Billie noticed it, but she didn't care right now. “I'll be home in 20 minutes. Angel, i'm in a terrible mood, so you won't get off with one orgasm. Put on my favorite and no makeup” Her words hit down your stomach, making you sigh softly. She returns from the tour angry for the first time. 

“No makeup? Why?” You sounded quieter than usual, but now not out of concern, but out of desire. “Because your face will be buried in the mattress while I fuck you. And I promise that you will cry with pleasure.” She was growling into the phone, imagining this beautiful picture. You were ready to whine. Billie could always say something that would just fold you in half. “Good...” You mumbled softly as you hung up the phone. The knot in your stomach has already started to tighten. You just had to wait for your girlfriend to arrive as soon as possible.    

To somehow brighten up the wait, you closed the curtains in your bedroom and turned on the pale red backlight. You applied her favorite perfume to your body and fixed your hair for the last time. And no makeup. You took off your dressing gown when you heard the front door open. She came.  

You went downstairs quickly to see your girlfriend. She looked wild, tired, and very sexy. Her hair was slightly disheveled. She wore a “Misfits” shirt and black wide-leg jeans with her favorite belt. You just knew what was underneath them.   

“Hi babe.” You walked up to Billie, swinging your hips, your arms wrapped around her neck as her hands gripped your waist. “You know how to please me. Good girl,” Billie changed your position, pressing you against a cold wall, you sighed. You were literally purring, pressing your body against hers. You felt the bulge against her pants and rubbed against it. Desire was written on Billie's face. “Bedroom. Now,” Those words were enough for you to take her by the hand and take her to the second floor. Billie was pleasantly surprised when she saw what your bedroom looked like. She loved it when you were preparing for her arrival.  

“I can't take it anymore if you rock your ass like that.” She hugged you to her, putting her hands on your ass, squeezing it. You giggled softly. “I don't want you to be patient. You can take whatever you want.” Your girlfriend was clearly pleased with your answer. “Sit on the bed, let me do something.” Billie was a little worried when you told her to do it, but she obediently sat on the edge of the bed, looking at you.  

“That's it...” You smiled as you approached Billie. You knelt between her legs, resting your head on her hip. “Look at me” You whispered as your hands reached for her belt. You bit your lip, slowly getting rid of it. The way Billie trembled under your touch made you wet. You ran your lips over the fabric of her jeans, finding the fly of her jeans. You undid it with your teeth, without taking your eyes off Billy's eyes. She was going crazy. Her hands were crumpling the sheets, and her eyes were running from your mouth to your eyes. You saw her despair. 

“Such a dirty girl...” She whispered, running her hand through your hair. “For you, daddy.” That name made her eyes roll back in her head. You felt proud. You pulled her jeans down to her ankles, then her panties, exposing yourself to a big red dick. This strap was your favorite. “Fuck...” You said it in unison when you both felt wild desire. You wanted to touch it with your tongue, but Billy had other plans. “You're driving me crazy, babygirl.” She picked you up, roughly throwing you on the bed. Her body hovered over yours as she devoured you with her eyes. You looked so small underneath.  

“Fuck, I'm going to beat the shit out of you,” Billie growled, sinking down to your neck. She ran the tip of her nose over your delicate skin, grinning. “You've prepared for me. How sweet...” But that was the end of the sweet stuff. You let out a loud sigh as her teeth sank into your skin. She sucked it hard until she left a few hickeys. “I've missed making you mine time after time.” She smiled against your skin, kissing her way down. “Billie, fuck...” She stopped abruptly, looking into your eyes. “Wrong”  

“Daddy...” You moaned softly as her fingers began to rub your clit through the lace fabric. “Good girl” She smiled, returning to your body. Billie pushed back the fabric of your bra, paying attention to your breasts. You bit your lower lip. Your breasts were too sensitive, and Billie was too hungry, devouring it. She bit and licked, making you growl.   

“Fuck...” You looked down when she ran her tongue over the space between your breasts. It was so sexy that you started to choke. Billie liked it. She always enjoyed the moments when she made you feel so desperate. Just for her.   

“Baby, do you need more?” This question sounded more like a mockery, but you wanted more so badly that you didn't care. “I need more, daddy, please...” You moaned softly, putting your hand on her head. You didn't know exactly what you wanted, but you did. “Mouth or fingers?” She asked it without any embarrassment, as if it was the most common question. You wanted to answer “Both”, but you want to get everything separately. “Mouth” You answer quickly, hiding your face in your hands. Billie smiles. “Such a daddy’s princess” Those words made you gasp. 

“Please, I can't wait any longer...” Billie grinned as she went down. She pulled off your panties with her teeth, throwing them aside. Revenge. Her breath scorched your heat as she spread your legs wide. “Beg” She was serious about getting all the juice out of you tonight.  

“Please, daddy, I've needed you so much all this time, it's just...” You don't have time to finish when her tongue slaps against your clit. It was very harsh and you moaned loudly. Your hands immediately flew to her head, pressing her closer to your wet pussy. You missed her tongue so much, it was an inhuman desire. “Yes, right there...” Your eyes fluttered after every movement of her tongue. Your back arched when it was inside you. Billie hadn't pushed her tongue inside you for a long time and these sensations were wild. Her eyes were wild as she looked at your heaving chest.  

“Mhm...” She moaned sweetly against your pussy, sending shockwaves through your body. You bit your lip, breaking into a smile. Her hand reached up, grabbing your neck. Her touch was so gentle and rough at the same time, it turned you on even more. You wanted her. Completely for yourself. And you were elated every time you realized that this was the case.  

“I'm gonna...” You moaned. The knot in your stomach tightened too much, you couldn't take it anymore. Billie looked at you again. You saw her eyes roll back in pleasure. You tasted divine. Billie patted your thigh, silently letting you cum. The words “Cum on my tongue, sweet girl” rang in your head. Just the thought of her sexy voice instantly brought you to orgasm. You've seen the stars. “Good girl...”Now her voice was real.  

"I missed you so much...” you whispered when she got up to kiss you. You moaned into her mouth when you tasted yourself. Delicious. She ran her tongue over your lips, forcing you to close your eyes. Her every touch did inexplicable things to you. But you loved it. “I know, angel.”  

You kissed for another minute until you felt her fingers teasing your pussy. “Daddy...” You were whispering into her neck. “Do I have to stretch you, or are you ready to take my dick?” Those words sounded so dirty coming out of her mouth that you were just suffocating. “I'm ready.” You were always ready. 

“Daddy's girl” She smiled, looking at your body, hungry for you. Billie's “Roll over on your stomach” sounded rude and you knew what she wanted. You obediently lay down on your stomach. Your ass was in the air, your hands were above your head. “You don't know what you're doing to me.” She slapped your thigh, enjoying the way you squirmed under her. She knew how much you liked it.  

 “Slutty girl” Your pussy clenched at her words. Billie brought the tip of the strap to your hole, teasing you. “Tell me how much you missed daddy's dick.” Her hand went down your back, leaving goosebumps on your body. You squirmed, looking for friction, but Billy's hands stopped you. “Use your words, angel.” 

“Daddy, I felt so empty without you... My fingers weren't enough.” You knew what your words would do to her. You didn't see her face, but you felt her inside you. It was rude. “Fuck!” You bit your hand when her dick was completely inside you. Her hips beat against yours as she rocked into you at an animal speed. “Slow down...”  

“Oh, shut up.” She was growling, pressing your head against the mattress. Your hair became a mess and there were tears of pleasure in your eyes when your girlfriend fucked you so well. So fast and rude. And even if you asked her to be slower, you didn't want that. Billy's hand grabbed your thigh, creating additional roughness. Your eyes were blurred because of the tears. And your throat is dry. Your neighbors won't thank you for those beautiful sounds coming out of your mouth.  

“You look so beautiful, taking every daddy’s inch” Her voice was trembling with wild excitement. She fucked you so hard and couldn't get enough of you. It was a problem because you wanted to cum again. “Can I-” A rough push cut off your words.  

“No. I'm not fucking going to stop fucking you until i get enough.” Her voice was loud and broken. She never sounded like that. You were whining, but you were holding back your growing orgasm. “I'm sorry, baby.” Billie pulled out her dick, leaving you empty and desperate. “No!” You looked at her. Tears were flowing beautifully down your face when you rolled over on your back.  

“On your knees,” Billie said it sharply and you obeyed, ignoring the weakness in your body. She sat on the edge of the bed, and you knelt between her legs. “You know what you have to do.” You looked into her eyes, full of despair and desire. “Yes...” You took the tip of the strap in your mouth, feeling your taste again. It made you moan. Your movements were slow and gentle when half of her dick was in your mouth. Billie put her hand on the back of your head, roughly pushing it further into you. You grabbed her hips, trying to control the thrusts, but soon the tip of her strap was hitting the back of your throat. Billie was wild, and you didn't know what was going on with her. You could taste your tears in your mouth. Her other hand rested on your cheek, wiping away your tears. It was sexy. 

“Do it better.” She was growling, thrusting her hips into you. All your reflexes had already failed when you took her dick. Her body was starting to shake, and the thrutst were becoming more and more careless. It only took a few seconds for her to moan loudly and lie down on her back. “Damn.” You licked your lips, still trying to move away from what had just happened. Billie lay in silence for a while, but suddenly got up. “Ride me, baby”  

Your eyes lit up with desire when you were on top of her. Your pussy was on her hot thigh, moving slowly. She looked up at you, grabbing your ass “Ride daddy's dick like a good girl” You didn't need to be persuaded. You wanted to cum so badly that you just couldn't wait a second longer. You needed her strap inside you. Billie controlled your movements, allowing only the tip to be inserted inside you. “I need more, i beg you...” You looked into her eyes, seeking approval. And you got it when her hands abruptly lowered you. Her strap was all inside you. Every damn inch. “Move yourself, my angel” 

You started moving your hips, going up and down. The bedroom was filled with your moans and dirty noises between your bodies. Billie greedily kissed you when her thumb landed on your clit. This stimulation was too much for you. “Please, daddy, can i?” You whispered a question in her ear. Your hands rested on her shoulders.  

“Cum for me, pretty girl,” Billie smiled, helping you by pushing with her hips. A strong orgasm went through your body when you collapsed on the body of your beloved. You tried to catch your breath for another minute. “It was crazy” You whispered.  

“I know. And we both love it.” Billie kissed you on the cheek, brushing the sticky hair off your face. Your face was a mess. “Now let's take a shower, my love.” 

requests open <33

[meliciousmel13]

➛ munch

paring: overworked!billie x wife!reader

warnings: literally just filthy smut with a little plot, riding, eating out, kind of pathetic billie(?) just at the beginning though, mirror sex, billie calls r good girl, strap-on sex, kind of proofread

wc: 2,433

SYNOPSIS: billie won’t stop working, you want to go out but she won’t leave the studio. you had an idea of what to do.

taglist: @chrissv4mp, @billiesguitar, @ilovebillieeilish2000, @d14n4ol, @raspberrymacaroon if your not a part of this list but want to be comment under my tag list post, which is on my masterlist.

an: here's another fic since last week i didn't post anything.

she was always in the studio. always. whether it was 3 am or 4 in the morning. you never got to see her besides when she got out the room to get water, or take a 5 minute break (which was apparently enough time for the whole week).

you never saw her. you understood. she had to work on her new album. it was just work. but the amount of times your slept in a cold bed was getting tiring, and kind of depressing, considering you barely saw your wife, when she was your wife.

“billie?” your soft voice echoed through out the home studio, billie didn’t notice you with her headphones on, “bills” you repeated her name, slowly entering the studio and standing behind her, she finally noticed.

billie removed her headphones and looked behind her, a tired smile finding it’s way on her face, “hey baby.” she said, while looking up, and taking your hips in her hands. you were wearing a silk satin robe, which was driving her insane.

“hi.” you smiled as billie kissed your stomach, “i wanted to surprise you.” you said, enjoying her hands on you, she hasn’t touched you in three weeks, and you were getting desperate.

“wanted to surprise me?” she smiled, for the first time in weeks, she almost forgot how happy you made her, almost forgot about you.

“yeah,” you smirk, untying you robe and seeing billie’s eyes widen. you were wearing almost nothing underneath, just lacy underwear.

“so it’s that kind of surprise?” she chuckled, trying to act like seeing you half naked in her studio didn’t affect her.

you hum, removing her hands on your hips getting in front of her and sitting on her desk, spreading your legs, “you can’t touch me though,” you said, tilting your head to the side, which made your untied hair go that way.

billie thought about her album, the amount of work she had to do was piling up each day. but she couldn’t deny you, she never could and never will, “you tryna’ tease me?” she placed her hand on your upper thigh, but you pushed it off.

“maybe.” you smile, innocently, like you weren’t dripping on her desk, “you’ve been working a lot.” you said, nonchalantly, while billie was imagining the way she could take you, “do you also sleep here?” you asked, curious.

“no— i sleep in our bed i just leave before you wake up.” she said, it made much more sense. why you woke up with a pillow next to you every time you woke up, and why her side of the bed was messy.

“how long do you sleep for?” you asked, again.

“six hours…” billie trailed off, couldn’t even look at your face, not like she was looking at it in the first place.

“don’t lie to me billie.” you threatened, closing your thighs, and getting off her desk.

“okay! okay, i sleep for three hours.” billie said, slightly scared of what you might do. you weren’t scared to make her sleep on the couch the last time she even remotely did anything wrong.

“three hours?” you said in disbelief, you knew her sleep schedule sucked, but it was getting borderline unhealthy and insane, “you sleep for three fucking hours? are you serious?” you said.

“no i sleep for two.”

“billie!”

“i’m joking!”

“don’t joke about that, god.” you sighed, with your head in your hands.

billie felt bad. didn’t know how much her not being there affected you, “i’ll take a ten minute break then.” you looked up, mischievously, this was exactly what you wanted.

“fifteen.”

“ten.” she argued.

“twenty.”

“fifteen.”

“an hour.” you smiled.

“fine,” billie caved, laying back on her seat, and looking up at you, “your so lucky your adorable.” she said, and you hummed, sitting back on her desk, scooting to the very edge of it, and billie immediately sat up, like she was trained to do it.

“god, you’re so fucking gorgeous,” she breathed, almost absentmindedly, your belly burned a little, but not from that fiery pit that had been present earlier. this was desire. you felt desired.

“bills,” you whimpered as she lifted one of your legs to kiss along your thigh. she focused all her attention on the one thigh, running her hands and lips over the soft skin.

“jesus christ,” she whispered, watching your skin dimple under her fingers. she squeezed it harder, her lips climbing up your thigh. she brought one hand to your other thigh because she knew she wouldn’t be able to give it the proper attention it deserved before she got hungry and dove right in. the faint smell was already driving her wild.

you whimpered again when she got to her destination. you could feel her heavy breath against your underwear. she looked up at you pleadingly, her pupils drowning out her bright blue irises.

“can i take them off?” she asked, running her thumb over the lacy waistband. you shuddered and nodded, unable to make out any real words. she bit her lip and took your underwear off, throwing the white lace behind her.

“holy shit,” she sighed, eyes locked on your wet pussy. “i wanna eat it so fucking bad, baby. please,” she pleaded, her voice cracking in desire. you looked down at her, watching her throat bob as she swallowed thickly. like she was genuinely drooling.

you didn’t feel pressure to say yes, but you felt it would be cruel to say no. billie wanted it so bad.

“yes.”

billie gasped, her warm breath fanning over your folds. she licked her lips. “slowly, please,” you said, your words shaky. she nodded and looked up at you briefly in confirmation.

she looked back down and used her thumb to spread you apart before her tongue dove in. you moaned loudly at the contact, watching her lap up every crevice with fervor. her nose bumped your clit, and her mouth opened eagerly, exploring your pussy with her skilled tongue. she dipped it into your entrance, groaning at the taste that flooded her. the vibrations set you into a fit of complete pleasure, so she continued humming softly as she ate you out.

she devoured you like a woman starved, lapped and groaned as if she hadn’t eaten in days and you were a desert oasis. her hands gripped your hips, pulling your pussy as close as possible to her mouth. like this was a privilege she’d never again be able to afford.

you built up to your high quickly, thighs clenching tightly around her head. “b-billie, i’m gonna—”

you whined when she pulled away, looking down at her in betrayal. her face was coated in you from the nose down. she only licked her lips, not bothering to wipe the rest of it off.

“not yet,” she said lowly. she managed to look away from your pussy, despite how much she just wanted to dive in and stay there the rest of the night. “i’m gonna go get the strap, alright?”

your eyes widened and you nodded, unable to formulate words. you hadn’t been able to feel the strap for months now, your rare and short meetings with her between shows, and business meetings were short lived, only able to kiss for barely a minute before someone barged in.

she pressed a kiss to your knee and got up, a bright smile on her face that didn’t match how much she was about to wreck you. she disappeared into the studio’s door, probably rummaging frantically in the closet and box where all the toys were. you closed your eyes, trying not to touch yourself at the thought of her.

“fuck, you’re so beautiful,” billie breathed from above you. you opened your eyes, crossing them when you saw the dildo fastened to billie’s hips. you leaned down and pressed a kiss to the plastic tip, making billie gasp.

“you wanna suck it?” she asked. you just nodded eagerly and opened your mouth. you wanted to feel it in every way possible after being away from her so long. she held it by the base and fed it to you, your lips wrapping around the plastic.

“good girl,” she praised, watching intently as you took whatever you could into your mouth, which wasn’t much, “you can take more can’t you angel?” she said, gripping the back of your head and making you gag against the dildo, “breathe from your nose, don’t— don’t panic baby.” she said.

you felt yourself leak onto the desk as she praised you, you sucked it a little longer, until the desire was too much and you pulled away, panting. she was panting as well, having thoroughly enjoyed the show you just put on for her.

“you wanna ride me?” she asked, knowing what your answer would be.

you nodded eagerly, practically drenched at the idea. “alright, baby,” she said, grabbing your waist and moving you aside for a second. she laid back on her chair, breathing heavily, the dildo jutting out from her hips standing tall.

she pulled you into her lap and looked up at you, naked, and needy, she pinched your nipples, making you gasp. “sit on it,” she commanded, her voice dark. it took you a moment to realize what she meant, your mind hazy, but you lifted your hips and centered yourself above the dildo. you let the tip prod your entrance before lowering your hips, moaning as you sunk down on it. you lowered them slowly, feeling yourself being stretched out.

“good fucking girl.” billie groaned. her movements on your nipples stopped, distracted by the sight of you taking her. she put her hands down on your thighs instead, squeezing as you slowly took more of her inside.

“bill— billie,” you moaned, bracing yourself on her clothed chest. you finally took all of her, squeaking in pleasure when she slapped your ass gently.

“fuckin’ look at yourself, messy on my lap. and who was trying to act bossy a few minutes ago hm?” she said, as if she hadn’t begged to eat you out.

you looked at the mirror behind her, she positioned you where you could see yourself on it, “see how— see how fuckin’ pretty you look.” she breathed as you started moving your hips up and down, slowly. “say it. tell me you’re pretty.”

you looked down at her and she slapped your ass, making you yelp. “i-i’m pretty!” she nodded her head in satisfaction. “that’s right. watch yourself.” you kept watching yourself, riding her cock faster as the pleasure of it increased. she thumbed your clit, rubbing it as she kept praising you under her breath. you rode her until your thighs burned with the exertion.

“you’re gorgeous,” she said as she started thrusting her hips upwards, helping you ride her. she looked down, watching the dildo go in and out of you. “your pussy too. so perfect.”

you bit your lip, stifling a moan. watching yourself riding her like that was embarrassing, but you didn’t wanna disappoint billie. and, truthfully, it turned you on.

you rolled your hips, and billie was halfway down the chair, practically sliding off of it, she was laid back, with her hands behind her head looking down to see her dick sliding in and out of you.

“getting tired angel? didn’t even do anythin’ yet. you don’t appreciate my efforts.” she said sitting up and holding you from under your thighs, sitting up from her chair. you yelped, wrapping your arms around her neck and not wanting to fall on the cold floor. billie would never drop you though, even though she teased it.

she didn’t pull out yet, just walked to your shared bedroom, still inside you, “billie.” you whimper, grinding softly on her.

“impatient too.” she mumbled putting you down on the bed, “can’t help it,” you gasp as she turned you around, positioning you so you could see yourself in the bedroom mirror.

“wanna’ fuck you from the back,” she mumbled, and took your hips, dragged you closer to her pelvis and you could feel the tip of her cock to your entrance, “you want this angel?” she asked, and you had your head laid down on the bed, nodding, “we can’t have that.” she took you by the hair gently and guided you so you could see.

“see? you can still see me, just in the mirror, kay’?” she smiled, and you bit your lip, as she took the dildo and prodded it at your entrance, sliding it in and filling you up, once she saw that you were still biting your lip, she took her left hand and put her index, and middle finger in your mouth, “fuckin’ look at yourself.” she groaned, you did, you saw the way your brows furrowed and the spit going down your chin, with billie’s fingers in your mouth.

“you like it? you like getting fucked like a good girl?” she asked in-between pants. your face told her all she needed to know, flushed and scrunched up from the pleasure.

your moans got more intense in volume, and she continued her exact pace, wanting to make you cum soon. “you gonna cum, baby?”

you nodded as best you could with her hand still in your hair, crying out her name. she held her pace, starting to sweat from exertion before she could tell you were incredibly close from the way your legs shook.

“come for me. come on my dick.”

you practically screamed, immediately obeying her. your eyes closed tightly, clenching around her dick as she slowed down her pace to let you ride it out. you swore you had seen a glimpse of heaven, your orgasm feeling like it lasted for centuries. finally, though, you collapsed on the bed, completely spent and breathing heavily.

she kept herself inside you as you recovered, waiting to be told what to do. “pull out, please,” you said after a moment. she pulled out slowly, holding your waist with one arm as she used her free hand to take the strap off.

when it was off, she brought you closer, keeping you against her chest as you cuddled up to her. she ran her calloused fingertips over your shoulders and your back, soothing you. your mind felt clear enough after a couple minutes, not feeling so tired anymore.

“this would’ve happened sooner if you weren’t so busy.”

[blorbocedes]

I saw (I think) jenson say that max is the most naturally talented driver he's ever driven with(through Sophie and jos), do you think max is more natural talent or grueling training he went through as a kid? Very nature vs nurture question lol

as an anthropologist they'd take my degree away if I say nature. so let me break it down. of course max is once in a generation talent, but what does that mean? he didn't come out of the womb knowing how to drive a car. it's not encoded in his dna, simply bc his parents were in the same occupation. hamilton's parents weren't racers. that veers into biological essentialism, when what it really is - having both racing parents is max was exposed to that environment from a much younger age and had 2 adult who could guide him into racing with different styles. max is not a biological freak of nature like michael phelp's wingspan/lung capacity. driving was something that was learned and perfected upon. you need money to get into karting, yes, but also skill. there's so promising talents that never made it. this ofc is not an endorsement of jos' parenting styles; max is the rare success story where other kids in that position would and have burned out. but my point in talent needs to be honed with perseverance, endurance, hard work, and yes luck too. max is someone who lives and breathes racing, when he has his free time he's fucking sim racing. brasil was a culmination of his talents on show, yes, but early in the season before the mcl even truly showed its pace max clocked lando as his challenger and since then he has been driving the championship to mitigate losing it. that's not just talent, that's brains at work too -- like the risk assessment that a lando at p2 is worth whatever penalty he may get for driving him off, because he believed he was fast enough to come back into points. the point I'm making re: gruelling childhood training is that it's not like max ever stopped working on his racecraft. even when he was winning every race in 23, he said he wanted to improve on previous races, win with larger margins, he was his own competitor. the max of today is a better driver than the max of 2016 as a result of that

I don't disagree with jenson's assessment, max certainly has "it" and it's something you either have or you don't. but the term natural talent also soothes their ego losing to max, ahhhh I couldn't have competed with what Nature gifted him. it downplays the mountain of work that's behind honing that natural talent into actionable skill.

[jjkarmy091]

Second Best - Jungkook (part 5)

Summary: Being friends with someone who has your heart it’s already hard, let alone when that special someone ends up falling in love with your best friend, the one you think would never make anything to hurt you . Will you be able to ignore it and move on? what will happen when everything gets too much for you to handle?

Genre: Friends to lovers; angst; body insecurities; bullying; friend betrayel;

Pairing: Jungkook x female!reader

Jungkook’s feeling down lately.

After leaving Sewoon in the club, he hopped on his motorcycle and started driving until he reached his own home. Opening the front door he looked around and was emerged by this void feelling. He didn't know what was going on and why he felt the way he did. It wasn't a normal reaction of his. His night even went okay, he was having fun with his friends and kissed the girl he was in love with. How come everything turned out to this shitty. 

Then he remembered Y/n, the way she spoke with him before leaving. Did he say something he wasn't supposed to? Was she mad because of the guy she was sad for? He picked up his phone and called her, not once, not twice but four times. In any of those tries did she pick up.

“Hey Y/n. Just wanted to let you know I’m home and safe. I’m sorry the way things went out tonight, it was a very confusing night. Are we good? We never fought before and I'm lost here. I just-- I want you to know I care about you Y/n, a lot. Never forget that”  

Five minutes later: 

“Please call or text me when you get the chance so I know you are okay and we can talk about it” 

"Don't leave me in the dark Y/n. I'm beggin you. Talk to me or else I'll lose it"

Nothing. After millions of calls and text the response was not what he was expecting and it was driving him insane. Breathing heavily he sent one last text

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

Sitting down on his couch waiting for a call or reply from you was being a nightmare. It's been an hour and he got nothing from you. He fucked up bad. "Shit”. Then his phone started ringing and he answered it so quickly he didn't have time to see who it was, almost dropping it midway.  

“Hello?” 

“Hi Jk.” Sewoon replied on the other side. “Did you get home already? I wanna apologize for the way I spoke earlier about Y/n. You’re right, I shouldn’t have take it so easily and said those things. Were you able to talk to her after?” 

“Ahhh Sewoon. No I didn’t. She's probably asleep. I’m sure she’s alright.” Jungkook said nervously. “she better be. She’s not home either. I went there and no response” Sewoon said and Jungkook mind stopped working. What does she mean she's not home either? Did she really went out with some guy? She was never the one to behave like this. Only if she was --

“Jk are you listening to me? Can I come over to yours? Leaving Y/n aside for a bit, I thought we could have some fun I saw how stressed you were before. I want to help you shake it off a little, like old times”

Jungkook could only laugh to himself thinking how crazy he was when he said “I’m sorry Sewoon, not today. I’m tired and wanna get some rest okay? I'm sorry. If you get any info on Y/n, please tell me yeah? Just to be sure she really is okay. Sleep thigh"

Dropping his phone next to him, he turned the tv off, went to his bedroom, laid down and tried to find a way to sleep

----- 

Y/n called her manager the next morning asking for some days off, caliming she was having some personal issues and needed some time to fix them. The manager put no restraining to that, giving her a week off since she never missed work and was a great employee. She knew that too damn well.  She spent her life that goddamn coffee shop trying to earn every penny she could .

After drinking with Lisa and clean the mess they made she tried to get some sleep. Everytime she was about to close her eyes her phone screen would light up. She would look at it. Another notification from Jungkook and one in particular from Sewoon saying “you better had some fun tonight bitch because you leaving the club with someone else ruined my night. Jungkook lost his mind thinking you were in trouble. Call me up".

Y/n couldn’t help but sigh. Was her best friend always so self centered? How come she never noticed it? She turned her phone off and rolled over, finally being able to get some rest until she wakes up with a loud bang on the door and Lisa walking in full of excitement.  

“Good morning lady. Did you pack your stuff already? Pack warm things, a book or two, some pair of boots and lots of socks. We’re going to the snow. Oh and our flight is in about 5 hours. Hurry up”  

You didn’t know if you wanted to kill Lisa or thank her for being such a light in the middle of the storm going in your head and your heart. The next few hours were a rush. Between preparing things, buying others, organizing documents and being ready in time to go to the airport and checking in. In all this time, Y/n hasn't responded to either Sewoon or Jungkook. It was better this way. It was too much on her plate. A burden she had no need to carry.

After all the stress to get there on time they finally managed to sit down in their seats and recover from all the rush. Y/n wasn't definitely used to all of this. After a bit of silence she turned to Lisa and said  

"Jungkook called and texted me several times last night. And Sewoon too. It made me question the context of her text."  

“what do you mean?” Lisa questioned. 

"Basically she blamed me for ruinning her night with Jungkook after I left the club." Y/n retorded. Lisa opened her mouth but then closed it. Y/n wishes she had said what she was going to say, but instead she questioned "Did you answered any of them?" Y/n shakes her head "Good. These days we will have our phones turned off. No Jungkook, no Sewoon and no worries. Let's just have fun and create some badass memories. Deal?”

Y/n has to make sure that after all this mess gets better, to thank Lisa for everything she's been doing for her. Not that she hasn't already. She's so glad she came back into her life at a time like this. It made her compare Lisa to Sewoon. Where was Sewoon in the most difficult moments of your life?

"Deal"

A bit of sadness hits Y/n. She holds Lisa's hand and mouths "thank you" squeezing it tightly. You are going to get through this, like you managed before but this time with someone who truly cares and you couldn't be more relieved by it

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

@esposadomd @joonlover1207 @eegyo @furrywonderlandwolf @minghaosimp @differentrunawayperson @nikkinikj @jksusawife @11thenightwemet11 @jk97bam

[sturnioz]

─── ⵌ some goofy and funny moments between shy!reader and fratboy!chris. authors note. keeping you readers happy <3 you are welcome (also im using her nickname 'bun' in this as its a lil easier for me to explain things but she'll always be shy!reader ok ? ok.)

★ bun once wanted to see chris' cock when soft just cos she was super curious, and chris surprisingly let her (he was faded out of his mind so he didn't give a fuck) but when she murmured how much it looks like some sort of naked mole rat, chris got offended and almost threw her across the room.

☆ chris speaks with expressions most of the time. so there was a moment during a frat party where a student wanted drugs but didn't have the money to buy, so he was drunkenly hyping up chris and slurring his words making a fool out of himself and chris slowly turned his head to bun with the most diabolical look on his face and bun ended up giggling abt it the entire night.

★ bun once got super drunk at a frat party and fake fought chris in his room for whatever fucking reason and chris got annoyed and she cried when he put her in a headlock.

☆ bun sometimes sleep talks and one night, she said that someone was standing in the corner of the room and chris was ready to fight the invisible intruder (he almost shit his pants but he would never admit that out loud)

★ chris once got forced to bake with bun for an event the frat house had to hold (he had to do something he couldn't sit around and do nothing which he hated) and he got so frustrated with bun and her instructions that he accidentally squeezed the icing tube so hard that it exploded all over him.

☆ bun can get a little distracted when she sees something she likes and during an outing with a few other people, she saw a stray cat that she wanted to pet but chris grabbed the back of her shirt and hauled her back to the group before they could leave without her.

★ bun is obsessed with sonny angels and chris stared one down for abt five minutes cos he finds them creepy. (also threatens to throw them out the window if she doesn't stop leaving them around his bedroom).

☆ chris once peed on bun's leg in the shower (on accident, he claims. he was 'trying' to aim for the drain) and he almost had whiplash from how fast bun tried to punch him. like ? it came out of no where ?

© STURNIOZ

[01zfan]

presidential suite | s. es

actor!eunseok x actress!reader | 10k words

loved the idea of actor eunseok so much i had to write a fic about it unfortunately.

contains: mentioning money and an uncomfortable relationship with it, reader is assumed to be a prostitute by hotel staff, dry humping on a couch like horny teenagers, eunseok and the reader are enemies kinda

Your taxi finally made the final turn into the roundabout of the hotel. The otherwise dark drive was suddenly illuminated with the bright yellow lights of the lobby and drop-off lane with bellboys ready to tend to the rich with their luggage carts in toll. The hotel trolleys were gold plated and the young boys were clad in black, from their black polished shoes to their glove-bound hands that covered their open-mouthed yawns and picked at their faces in boredom. 

When you saw the boys stand at attention waiting for your cab to come to a halt you felt a pang in your heart. Even during the night California was much too hot to be wearing a full suit, and you imagined the pay didn't match the manual labor their job demanded. When you saw their tired faces preemptively light up with the dead customer service smile you were taken back to those days yourself. Young, broke, no clear visions of your future. The memories of working late night odd jobs that didn't pay you enough still plagued your mind. Sometimes you still found yourself using your fake customer service voice, overly cheery with the intent to please by any means necessary. But that isn't to say your new wealth suited you any better. Sometimes you went months without looking at your banking statements, and you were so plagued by guilt that you couldn't identify.

Your guilt made you insist on carrying your luggage up yourself and tipping the bellboys extra despite them not doing any work and taking pictures with them even if you were tired. Because of your guilt you would slip into your customer service mode, and then because you were acting fake cheery you would feel even more guilty. The endless cycle was a downwards spiral, leaving you with an acidic taste in your mouth and making you feel like you've made a fool of yourself. It made you incredibly sweaty too, and your back was already lined with sweat from the excessive layers you wore.

You were lucky that today you weren’t checking into the hotel, technically you weren’t here at all. To everyone’s knowledge—including your team’s—you were back at your motel getting rest in preparation for your long day tomorrow. 

You made the decision after filming, one that you told yourself was impulsive even if you had the directions to this hotel saved on your navigation app the second you landed. The person you were here to see told you where he was staying with a simple text. You replied with an even more simple fuck you before going radio silent. He replied with a you wish, and five hours later you were sneaking away in the dead of night.

You left the motel quietly to avoid suspicion from the paparazzi that were hellbent on catching you in the middle of something juicy enough to sell. You called the yellow taxi a five minute walk away from your motel, covered head to toe in black. When you felt how nervous the taxi driver was seeing someone in several layers of clothes in the middle of summer come into the car you felt guilty. Part of you debated on taking off your mask and shedding the jacket, but you didn’t know what he knew. You didn’t know if middle aged man had the paparazzi on speed dial next to that faded picture of his family paper clipped to his foldable windshield, ready to tell them that an a-lister was in his cab going to a hotel that was very much not hers in the middle of the night. Your paranoia made you keep your identity hidden and deepen your voice as you gave him the directions to the hotel across town.

The taxi ride was spent in complete silence. The only sound was from the occasional squeaks from the vinyl seats and the low, low volume of The Hot 100 playing on the radio. As the radio continued playing you realized how out of the loop you were when it came to music. You tried to remember the last time you had a chance to listen to an album in full. Maybe you listened to the latest project of the person that did the soundtrack on your last movie? Something playing in the background as sat in a makeup chair getting ready, or the white noise of rain as you tried to force yourself to fall asleep?

Your schedule was too packed to enjoy anything but work. Your schedule was so much to the point that you were operating on autopilot. Your brain was just a turning cog, something that send a signal to your mouth to open and your limbs to move. You couldn't handle anything more than that most days. You were so lost that your personal assistant set your schedule as your lockscreen, trying to force you to remember how present you’d have to be the following day. The method seemed outlandish, and the schedule was hideous each time you opened your phone, but came in handy; when you turned on your phone to check the time you were reminded of the day you’d have tomorrow.

Hair and makeup: 5:30AM

Breakfast: 7:00AM

Interview #1: 7:45AM

Interview #2: 8:30AM

On set: Filming Scenes 48-52, 77, & 83 9:15AM-9:15PM

Looking at the schedule made your head spin. You already felt your body grow weary at the thought of the work waiting for you the next day.

But did you really have the right to be tired when you were on your way to a hotel getting ready to do anything but sleep? 

Behind your mask you slowly started mouthing the lines to the scenes you’d be shooting tomorrow in an effort to make use of the time you were wasting. If your very first agent could see you now, he’d be disappointed. You could see him so clearly, with his nose pointed to the air as he talked about if he was you, he’d never do something so stupid. 

You rolled your neck and put a hand on the knot forming at the junction of your shoulder. You dug your fingers underneath your jacket and shirt to prod at the tense muscle, trying to find some form of relief. Now the sound of your jacket moving filled the car, and the sound of your heavy sigh behind your mask followed behind it. You can admit that your newfound wealth did make you feel comfortable in the confined spaces like these ones. You weren't scared to let your presence be known or your discomfort be heard in the back of taxi cabs. You also had your fair share of revelations in the backseats of cars. Your first callback was in the back of a car like this one, the first time you felt like the paparazzi were actually looking for you was in the back of a tinted out van. You just wish you could feel something like that again, giddiness instead of this terrible sinking feeling.

You put your head back and let out a sigh, closing your eyes to try and find a reason why you were doing all of this. In the beginning you loved it, but now it felt like you were grasping at straws to find a solid reason. The art? The money? Because it feels good? Because you like being held?

You could feel the taxi driver look back at you from the rearview mirror, you could tell he was on edge from the way you were behaving. You had half a mind to comfort him, to pull down your mask and ask a question about the current song playing on the radio. But you only blinked hard to try and will away the tight band of ache forming around your head before going back to your phone. 

Who isn’t on edge this late at night? You said while scrolling through the script. To be relaxed late at night was a privilege, one that was revoked when you got your first paycheck as an actress.

You told yourself that it’d all pay off a million times over in between reading the lines of the script and suffering through every single pothole in Los Angeles. You told yourself each time your but raised in your seat that was another million in the box office. Each car that had their high beams on and blinded you was another accolade. You were so caught up in your mantra you didn’t even realize you were at your destination until the taxi driver spoke for the first time.

“Is here okay, miss?” He asked.

You looked out the window to see the hotel. Before you could prep your fake voice and tell him to park on the side of the building the taxi pulled into the curved driveway and stopped in the pickup area. 

From your tinted window you watched the bellboys flock to you, excited for some sort of work this late into the night. You looked at them motioning for the driver to pop the trunk as you took in the sight of the large building in front of you. You pressed your forehead to the window and still couldn’t see the top, only lights from the rooms that still had people awake and the never ending skyline. 

When the view became too much—when everything became too much—you took another deep breath and rested your body against the backseat. You heard the low music from the radio cut off completely as your taxi driver rolled down his window.

“There’s nothing in there!” The driver yelled to the bellboys.

They scattered from the trunk and went to your side of the car next. A trio rushing, and then singled down to one when they realized all of them couldn't open your car door.

They pulled you from your breathing exercise to fully immerse you in the five-star hotel experience. One of the bellhops offered the side of his forearm to you, an invitation to treat him as a living breathing step ladder to get you out of the car. You could feel the air conditioning on full blast from the grand entrance of the hotel, chilling your sweating body.

You quickly reached in your pocket and grabbed a wad of cash, not caring to look at the number on the meter before handing it to the driver. You assumed it was the right amount by how wide his eyes got and the extra arm of a bellhop that came into your line of sight.

“Are you going to be in the area in an hour?” You asked.

The taxi driver nodded, his eyes still fixed on the cash.

“I’ll be here, miss.” He said.

You nodded and grabbed the bellhops arm, feeling your body get pulled from the backseat of the cab to the curb. One of the bellhops told you to watch your step as you were fully hoisted up.

You couldn’t say thank you before another bellhop closed the door. As the taxi driver drove out of the drop off area the other bellhop lead you to the front of the hotel. None of you spoke and you stumbled trying to go through the motions of a life you still weren’t suited for.

The smaller door into the lobby was opened for you by a man in a different suit, one that had an enamel pin of the hotels logo pinned to his lapel. You wish there was a name badge, so you could atleast pretend you were interacting with another human being.

“No luggage, madame?” Enamel Pin asked.

You shook your head, instinctually gripping the arm of the bellboy a little harder. You took in the sight of the lobby behind Enamel Pin, from the white marble floor and the stairs with solid gold handrails.

“No.” You swallowed when you tilted your head and saw the large chandelier. “I’m just visiting someone.” You said.

The air seemed to shift as Enamel Pin and the bellhops eyed you down. You realized the situation long after everyone else, what it could possibly mean for a young woman to arrive at a hotel with rich clientele once the sun went down. But the working class don’t ask questions, they only follow procedure and assumed in hushed voices during their lunch breaks that there are prostitutes coming into their place of work. 

So Enamel Pin doesn’t ask you to clarify, he only points towards the concierge and flicks his head subtly the same time the bellhop goes back to standing outside to wait for their next rich customer.

“You can check in at the front desk, miss.” He says.

You’re no longer a madame. You felt like you’ve been striped of a title, you aren’t the distinguished madame but instead the dirty miss who is here to do nothing but tarnish the reputation of this fine establishment. You almost pull down your mask and take off your cap to reveal your true identity, that you’re the one starring in a blockbuster every summer and receiving endless praise for your indie projects. You’re tempted to throw a wad of cash at Enamel Pin and yell I’m nominated for a fucking Oscar, you dipshit! But you keep your words to yourself. You knew by the time you woke up the next morning you’d be circling the gossip pages, your identity badly hidden in a not-so blind item. 

Young and rising actress making it rain in the hotel lobby where her former costar ex-fling is staying. You could see it so clearly, and you could see the disappointment of your current agents face even clearer. So you only nod your head and start walking towards the desk, wishing that the bellhop stayed around a little longer to get a tip.

“Who are you visiting today?” The concierge asks.

You lean closer to the desk, trying to hide all evidence that you’re nervous. You assume the same fake deep voice again, trying to sound so different from the movies you’ve starred in.

“Song Eunseok.” You answer.

The concierge looks from her computer at the name. You thought places of this caliber would be a little more inconspicuous. But she is wide eyed, even leans in to make sure you said the right name.

“Song Eunseok?” She asks.

You can practically see the way her eyes light up at the mention of the actor. You still haven’t come to terms that he’s not you’re little secret anymore, that he’s not the same boy you saw at all your low-brow auditions when you first came to the scene. He was an international heartthrob now, one that made women lose their tact and become unprofessional.

No one knew what type of person he truly was underneath all the charm and the good looks.

But it was arguably worse that you knew and were still putting yourself in these predicaments just to see him.

You were in one now, as the concierge started to realize you were a girl going up to his presidential suite dressed like a shadow and like you were hiding something under all of those layers. 

She went back to looking at the computer, going over the approved list of visitors.

“What’s your name, miss?” She asked.

In the beginning of your careers when Eunseok still slept in motels and poorly managed inns you never had to worry about checking in. There wasn’t a concierge in a pantsuit but instead it was a man in a stained shirt who didn’t even look up from the game on the television. He would only slide you a key and say Don’t make too much of a mess before going back to his regularly scheduled program. 

You were so used to the anonymity that came with being a nobody that you panicked at the question. Your mind scraped through the people in Eunseok’s circle, who would be on the list so you wouldn’t have to give up any of your information. You thought about Minjeong and Wonbin, Eunseok’s stylists and then went to his agent Shotaro. The concierge looked at you expectantly, raising her eyebrows waiting for your response.

“Sohee. Lee Sohee” You adjusted your mask on your face to try and add sureness to your voice. “I’m Song Eunseok’s personal assistant.” You added.

The lady looked at the list then looked to you. Her eyes stayed on your face mask then flitted up to your tinted shades and baseball cap. You could tell she wanted nothing less than to let you upstairs. In her mind she was protecting her precious actor as she reached for the landline in front of her.

“Let me call Monsieur Song to let him know he has a visitor.” She said.

You nodded, feeling another layer of sweat line your back as she looked over the room number. Each button she pressed into the keypad vibrated your skull. Over your shoulder you swore you could feel Enamel Pin staring at you, ready to escort you out.

Maybe you should really get back to your agent on the spy movie she pitched to you. You already had real life experience of lurking in the shadows and going on top secret missions where there was so much at stake. Maybe instead of risking your career you could play a role that would help propel it further. 

You pulled your baseball cap as far as it could go and settled into your jacket more. This was the part of the movie where the phone rang for an embarrassingly long amount of time, forcing the concierge to ask for your ID. This was the part that it’d be revealed you were not Lee Sohee, and you were not Song Eunseok’s personal assistant. You were arguably something much worse, something way more valuable to a concierge looking for some extra cash.

Just when she was able to ask you to materialize some form of identification, Eunseok answered the phone. You and the woman drew in a pensive breath the same.

“Monsieur Song. Sorry for calling at this hour but there is a Lee Sohee here to see you.” She said.

Your eyes were focused on the transmitter, trying to imagine Eunseok on the other end of the line. The concierge was imagining him too, she turned her body and played with the handset cord like they were in their own private conversation. You leaned further against the front desk in an effort to hear the conversation. You heard the low hum of a voice on Eunseok’s end but couldn’t make out a response. 

The concierge acknowledged your presence again when she took a quick peak over her shoulder. The smile she had faded slightly as she hummed a yes into the transmitter.

“She said she’s your personal assistant.” She said.

Your eyebrows raised as you heard no response on the other end of the line. For a second you thought that Eunseok was going to tell the concierge that Sohee isn’t a girl and would never be up this late at night. But instead you hear more low hum, and the concierge nods again.

“Yes sir. I’m sending her up now.” She says.

She puts the handset on the switch hook and you can see the wistful look in her eyes before she turns to you again. She pulls a sticky note from the pile of her supplies and a pen. After quickly scratching a number onto the note she slides it to you.

“Sir Eunseok is at the top floor in room 7319.” She says.

The relief of not being caught still has you frozen. You take a moment to clear your throat and reach across and grab the note.

“Thank you.” You say. 

You’re tempted to slide money across the marble countertop to the concierge, but something holds you back. Maybe it’s the last bit of sense you have left that tells you to try and not make it look painfully obvious you’re doing something you’re not supposed to do. By the time you take the note the concierge is already doing something else that involves her computer. She’s switching between tabs and typing maniacally as if you no longer exist. She doesn’t spare you a second glance as you turn on your heel and head towards the elevator. 

As you walk across the lobby to the elevators, you imagine the sound of heels clicking across the floors. Even underneath the heel of your flat worn out shoe you can tell the floor so badly wants to make a noise, that it wants your presence to be known. You purposefully make your steps light as a feather to try and leave no trace of yourself behind. 

You find true relief when you’re in front of the elevators and hear the sound of someone coming in, booming about their flight and chatting with Enamel Pin. You silently thank the man for being unashamed to make noise as you press the button to the top floor.

As you watch the red analog number climb you settle further into the corner. Your eyes mindlessly travel around the tiny box, peering from corner to corner until you see it. The small camera hangs from the corner diagonal from you, but it’s pointed at you all the same. You stay unmoving in your spot and you imagine the security guard in the basement staring at your unmoving moving image. You don’t take a step until the elevator doors finally open to the top floor, and you let out a pensive breath when you step across the threshold into the hallway.

Your eyes are fixed on the carpet underneath your feet as you make your way down the hall. Your eyes wander from your worn shoes in contrast to the fresh carpet as you look for an imperfection across the fabric. You don’t see the dark stains caused by God knows what or fraying threads, you don’t feel parts of the carpet that were threadbare from constant foot traffic. All you see is proof of a well managed building. The difference is already staggering, you’re reminded of your motel room that had unknown stains and janitors that did illegal substances in the supply closet. You could’ve sworn there was noise coming from every room on your floor; noise surpassed the tearing wallpaper and leaked into the dimly lit hallways. The sounds of program television and people bounced off the walls of the narrow hallway and even found its way into your room. You had to blast The Price is Right to try and drown out everything, but you slept soundly. You felt more comfortable in the bed you had to check for bugs and bloodstains than you did now. 

The hallway you walked down now was completely silent. You strained your ears for signs of life, looking past the doors of the suites imagining someone was there. You were the only source of noise. Each time your heel scraped the carpet you flinched, afraid that someone was going to open one of the doors and shush you to death. The fear of being caught making noise made you knock on Eunseok’s door quietly, three small taps before you brought your arm back to your side.

You knew that Eunseok was going to make you wait outside. He had a habit of forcing you to revel in the lengths you’d go through just to see him. You were in the hallway, completely covered, but still so exposed. You imagined any second one of the doors would open and there’d be a camera pointed at you, and the very next day your career would be over. You shuffled on your worn feet and looked back tot the elevator. Maybe the taxi was still close. You could go back to your motel and get enough rest for your long day tomorrow.

Before you could even fully consider that option the door opened. Light filtered into the dim hallway, and past the tiny gap in the door you saw Eunseok looking down at you. Despite all the layers and all traces of your face being hidden you saw Eunseok’s eyes soften before part of his smile was revealed.

“Kinda late, isn’t it Sohee?” He asked, smile getting even bigger.

You pushed at the door despite the chain keeping it locked in place.

“Let me in.” You ordered.

Eunseok scoffed but didn’t even close the door all the way before getting the metal latch off. Even when there was only a slit of you visible between the cracks of the door Eunseok didn’t take his eyes off you, like he was afraid you would disappear into thin air. He opened the door wide for you, and you stepped into the entryway past him.

You heard the door close and the dead bolt lock as you took in Eunseok’s room. The corridor was small, even smaller than the one at the motel with half the amount of rooms and you understood why. You looked at the hotel room—this presidential suite—to see the full kitchen and California King sized mattress. There was a full sofa, clean and inviting in front of the flatscreen plasma television. Your motel room had scratchy seats and unknown stains on a cramped loveseat with an ancient box television that had screen burn in the bottom corner. The ceilings above you were high, maybe even higher than the ones of your apartment back in New York. There was definitely a better view, from the large windows it looked like you were at the highest point of California.

You were still taking in the view when Eunseok put his hands on your shoulders. You felt him try to turn you, but when you didn’t give in he started pulling at the sleeves of your jacket.

“You told them you were Sohee?” He asks. 

Eunseok guides your arms out of your jacket as you walked further into his room. You never understood what a presidential suite meant or what separated it from the other types of rooms in a hotel. But you saw what parts of it was illuminated from the small light hanging above you, and how it seemed to stretch even further past the darkness. 

“Because Sohee is a feminine name.” You reason.

Your voice sounds far off as you try to conceptualize how much wealth is in the room. The marble countertops with the stove embedded in and the open bathroom door that exposes the large shower. Your mouth only drops further but Eunseok is unaffected as his heavy hands drag down your arm, feeling your clammy newly exposed skin.

“Could’ve said you were Minjeong.” Eunseok whispers from behind you. His head lowers down to yours, whispering in your ear as you continue to look around the dark suite.

He can’t see the way you shake your head from his suggestion when he turns away to put your jacket on the hook by the large door. He comes back to you and puts his hands on your shoulders again, rubbing your arm and messing with the end of your sleeve.

“I don’t want the gossip pages to have her name in their mouths.” You respond.

Your mouth feels dry when you turn your head and see the light fixtures that hangs from the ceiling. Eunseok bends down to kiss your shoulder but stays there, whispering into your neck.

“You’re that paranoid?” He asks.

As if a switch had been flipped, you turn away from the wealth to look at Eunseok. He already has that knowing smiling etched into his features, like he knew he was pushing your buttons.

His hands reached up to take your mask off, smiling even bigger at the pout that he knew was already there. He lifts your cap and takes off your shades, gathering all the things you used to hide yourslef in the bowl of your upside down cap. He ruffles your hair and pinches your cheek, causing you to reach up and smack his hand away.

You can tell that Eunseok is trying to corral you further into the suite, but your feet are planted. You don’t think you could move past the space of the entryway even if you wanted to. The thought of you not deserving to see so much luxury keeps you focused on Eunseok’s amused face. You don’t dare to look at the walk-in closet next to him or the pristine paintings hanging on the wall.

“No woman is in a mans hotel room this late at night unless—”

“Unless what?” He asks.

Eunseok tilts his head to the side. You hate when he interrupts you. You hate when he looks at you so intently waiting for what you’re going to say next. You hate that he’s so used to the wealth that he wears plain designer shirts to bed. You hate that he seems more comfortable in his skin while you're ready to crawl out of it. You hate that he tilts your chin up when you try to avert eye contact.

“Unless she’s a murderer or a prostitute.” You say. You make sure to emphasize the first word, as if you were capable of hurting Eunseok.

Eunseok takes his hand away from your face to laugh. It’s a dry chuckle but it has something blossoming in your chest, a warmth that’s different from the layers of clothes you were wearing earlier. It's equally strangling, and equally makes the knot form at the base of your neck again.

“I did think you were a stalker at first.” Eunseok walks past you, forcing you to follow him across the room. He subjects you to his wealth, he practically rubs it in your face as he lazily pads to the couch like he owns the place. His black tee and low sweatpants reveals the lowest part of his back for you. You let your eyes stay focused on that as he continues to walk towards the couch. “Sohee would never be here at this hour.” He says.

“But you let me up anyway?” You ask.

You can barely see Eunseok’s expression as he sits on the couch in the near darkness. You thought it would look like he was photoshopped against the backdrop of the Los Angeles skyline, but he was a natural. Eunseok settled into the gray modular couch and put his arm on the back like it was second nature. He spread his legs out and shrugged before looking behind him at the night sky.

“I figured it was you.” He answered.

Whatever you and Eunseok had truly wasn’t all that complicated. Yes you cursed him out before showing up at his suite in the middle of the night and yes you two must hate eachother to some degree. But your separate careers grew side by side, you came out during the summer and he dominated the winter. In the fall that following year—when your careers were still fresh and you two would’ve agreed to anything to chase the fame—you were told about the opportunity you had to grow your careers and build more hype around the project you were both starring in. 

Looking back, you could admit you had fun. When work dragged on or you were feeling extra lonely you’d look at old issues of the tabloids, thumbing through the pages until you got to the gossip and celebrity couple section. You'd look down the doggy eared pages of the magazine and look at the paparazzi traps disguised as dates. You looked at the two of you walking around in matching athleisure wear on the way to pilates with Eunseok trailing behind you holding your things and the infamous Central Park date where you two played with children and dogs that weren’t yours. There was even that one photo of you in the bottom corner of the page with Eunseok's hand on your lower back guiding you to your chauffeur. That date felt very real. The drinks you held in your hand was real liquor, you felt actual excitement and the buzz of being in a Hollywood party. Eunseok's hand that reached across the back row of seats to buckle you in was real. The way he pinched your cheek and told you teasingly you should let loose more often was also very real.

The wobbly view you had of him was the same you had now. His pointed noise and high cheekbones, the softness in his expression that defied his sharp features. His hair still fell the same as he continued looking at the outside, picking at the top of the couch like he was subtly trying to find an imperfection. Back then in the back seat of the tinted SUV he was red in the face, looking out the windows in awe of the flashing cameras. Back then you only had your bleary sights on him, you only took in the smile on his face instead of the sounds of paparazzi calling out your name and orders to roll down a window.

That fall you two seemed to be the worlds couple, coming from humble beginnings and navigating the glamour of Hollywood together. You two attended every event attached at the hip, wearing a something that complimented the other and said praises during each interview. For a moment you thought everything was right in the world. The money had started rolling in, the two of you compared checks like kids compared trading cards, wide eyed and passing them in your two-person circle. Eunseok sent you the magazine issue to your new high rise loft in Astoria that had you two on the cover. We look cute together was the note he wrote in permanent marker on the back, you smiled and ran your fingers over the black ink, thinking about how he thought of you all the way in Tempe, Arizona.

Eunseok was the first person you would call when you got a positive feedback, and he was the first one you went to when you ended up losing a role. You believed for a long time the relationship was the same both ways, but when your joint project came out your relationship did what it was supposed to do. You two found solid roles and your names started being mentioned in the acting world. The same time you found out you were in the running for Best Actress the magazines found out the one thing that sells better than love was drama. So less than a week later you found Eunseok snuggled up to the co-star of his upcoming movie underneath the trees at the Maria Hernandez park, playing fetch with a Goldendoodle and cooing at a toddler that was hobbling towards them. 

The sides chosen only fueled your anger. People believed that Eunseok wronged you (they were right) and that you were the best thing that ever happened to him (they were also right). Others didn’t really care, but still participated in the feud to say that at the end of the day it didn’t matter because Eunseok had more accolades (they were unfortunately right). 

Your hatred for Brooklyn and Eunseok started then, you cut him off without hesitation and ignored his texts begging for reconciliation. You put your nose your work without coming up for air, replacing every moment you had with him in favor of lines for your upcoming films.

Somewhere along the way in the middle of your bout of no contact he caught you (or you caught him, that was still unclear) at a wrap party in NoHo. Minjeong, who you built a real friendship with during your very fake relationship with Eunseok, promised you that he wouldn't be there due to a conflicting schedule. For a moment at her wrap party you were at peace, free to drink due to the lack of press and phones that were collected at the door. But when your nth shot of the night started tasting like water, Eunseok arrived. He took the pregame route, showing up to the party already drunk and haughty like the jackass he truly was. When you were at your weakest and the party was winding down, you two set your eyes on eachother. You narrowly tried to avoid him, bobbing and weaving through the crowd of unknown cast and crew members and their plus ones as he weaved through right behind you. The further you went to try and hide the further you strayed from the crowd.

You ended up in the bathroom (the only one that didn't have people doing coke inside), trying hard to close the door on Eunseok's Golden Goose shoe. You were slurring that his shoes were hideous and he was telling you about the botched trailer for your movie one minute then the next you were on top of the small sink spreading your legs and swapping spit with him. You told him you hated him and his stupid movies and he nodded while sticking his fingers in your mouth. You told him none of it was real and he hesitated, your spit covering his lips in a thin glossy layer before he said sorry so genuinely it made you almost regret everything. You never meant to fold, you never meant to be anything less than cruel to him, but Eunseok grabbed your hands the same way he did when there were no cameras around and kissed each individual knuckle while keeping bleary eye contact with you. He truly seemed sorry when he slid inside of you with a quiet sigh, and you seemed to accept his apology by the way you begged him to go faster. 

Something that was meant to be a messy and regretful one time thing for closure happened again, and again, and again. Wherever you were working on for a movie Eunseok seemed to be trailing close behind for his own project. You two begrudgingly came to an agreement, a secret kept behind closed doors. 

Despite the level of trust needed for something so reckless you found it hard to be with him. Sometimes you questioned if you even liked Eunseok, or if you were just blinded by the false sense of familiarity and the lasting effects of the dopamine rush from the PR stunt. He was nothing like that boy from humble beginnings you met at your very first audition, the one you felt like understood you. Then he wore beat up shoes and had a hole in his polo where he accidentally tore the fabric trying to remove the logo. The same boy who talked about name brands with disdain was endorsed by several now. The boy that was so afraid to take up space spread out on the Italian leather upholstery and patted his lap like it was a seat.

“Don’t be afraid to get comfortable.” He says.

You start by taking off your shoes, carelessly kicking them behind you where you saw Eunseok’s other pair of shoes lay.

“I can’t get comfortable.” You say.

Him rolling his eyes takes your attention away from the silk sheets on the bed and the large windows that give a full view of the city.

Eunseok picks at the stitching of the upholstery and focuses on his prying fingers. He focuses on the integrity of the couch, lips pulled into a scowl before he turns to you. Almost instantly a taunting smile replaces his features as he settles into the couch again. 

“Just because your fake humble doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy a little luxury.” He taunts.

Despite the snarky comment Eunseok still holds his hand out to you. 

“I’m fake humble because I like to save money?” You asked.

Even with your eyes raised in anger and surprise at the jab you start walking towards Eunseok. His smile gets wider with each step you take. The floors are cold against your feet but you feel warm all over. You tell yourself it’s the rage, your body that's burning itself out from being overworked.

Eunseok doesn’t speak again until you stand in front of him. He brings his hand from his lap to hold your waist, a steady grip to keep you in place. He dares to lean forward and press a kiss to your clothed stomach before looking directly up at you. With a sigh your hands go to his shoulders and your head lulls to the side to look down at him.

“I saw how well your last movie did.” This time he lifts up your shirt to press a kiss to your bare waist. He pulls you in a little closer by the belt loop of your jeans before messing with the button. “An extra couple hundred here and there won’t break your bank anymore, baby.” He responds.

"I'm not your baby." You say it quietly, your hand rubbing his hair slowly.

You feel the tension and the forming headache melt away like rain. You already feel relaxed when you shake your head. The need to fight back leaves your mind when you feel Eunseok come forward with his other hand to undo the button.

Your body turns with each pull and before you know it the denim pools at your ankles. You step out of them and Eunseok sees it as his chance to pull you onto his lap. When you try to straddle him he directs both of your legs to one side. You stumble into the position, unsure what Eunseok has in mind for the night until you sit on his lap sideways and he brings an arm around your shoulders to keep you close. 

You can already feel his dick twitching underneath you, but before you can mock him you’re distracted by the feeling of Eunseok running his hands up and down your bare legs. He inches closer and closer where you need him most before retreating. He repeats the motion of tracing up and down your leg over and over again. It’s not long before you’re squirming in his lap and keeping your eyes on anything but the rest of the room. When the teasing becomes too much you finally grab one of Eunseok’s hands and lead it towards your cunt.

“Just because you flaunt doesn’t mean I have to.” You say.

Your words lack bite, the edge is completely gone from your breathy tone. Seeing you remain steadfast while becoming weaker and weaker only fuels Eunseok to make you suffer even more. His hand restricts yours to the side and he waits just above your waistband. He looks at you silently with a pout on his face as your stomach jumps from being so close to getting what you need. Your hand pulls against his grip uselessly and suddenly you're too embarrassed to look at Eunseok anymore.

Your head tilts towards the high ceilings as he finally pushes past your waistband. You arch your back and he pulls you closer before pressing his fingers deep to your clit with his cold middle finger.

“Is that what you tell yourself when you wear designer straight off the runway just to walk around the Upper West Side?” He asks.

Before you can defend yourself Eunseok presses deeper into your clit, pulling a pained whine from your lips and a pathetic thrust. His refuses to trace down to your slit to collect your slick before messing with your clit. Somehow it is infuriating but erotic that he knows how to not touch you but does it anyway. He doesn't treat you sweetly, he doesn't do what your hands guide him to do. He does what he wants, he goes straight to picking up the speed on your clit that sends currents through your body.

When he realizes you can’t speak anymore only then does he dip his hand down further, gathering the slick from your hole and prods your entrance with his two fingers. You feel the tension and pressure from his fingers, you preemptively let out a sigh and a small shake when Eunseok kisses your temple. The kiss is passive and small, but it makes you relax enough for Eunseok to slide his fingers inside of you.

You practically suck his two fingers in, and you whine out to the large light fixture above you. You turn your head to Eunseok’s chest seeking some type of comfort but he gives you nothing of the sort. Even if you are cradled in his lap he doesn’t baby you, he doesn’t coo at you affectionately while pumping his fingers in an out of your heat.

“Seriously. You think just because you stay at The Struggle Inn on the other side of the tracks you’re humble?” Eunseok presses the pad of his finger against your walls for emphasis. “This little persona you got going on makes me sick sometimes.” He laughs.

“Sometimes?” You breath.

You let out a labored whine from the feeling of Eunseok playing with you. He’s making a mess of you and you’re almost ashamed that you do nothing about it. Your hand reaches back to dig into the firm cushion of the couch as a means to ground yourself. You see Eunseok look from your clothed cunt to you, nodding his head as he pushes his fingers in deeper. You can feel his soft fingers, you swear you can feel each individual knuckle as your back arches. When your chest is high enough he kisses your covered nipple until you lower it out of his lips reach.

“Sometimes it’s so cute seeing your eyes get all wide like you don’t have money. Kinda feels like I’m ruining you.” Eunseoks’ free hand travels up your back and moves your body close to his. Your hands go back to gripping his shoulders instead of keeping yourself propped up. You lean all your body weight on Eunseok’s side and his arm as he runs his eyes up and down your twitching body. “You’re committed to the bit, I gotta give you that.” He laughs.

“Not a bit.” You respond.

You don’t know how he manages to string so many words together during times like this. You’re all for the jabs at ones character—especially Eunseok’s—but you think it is extremely unfair when you can’t form a coherent sentence that doesn’t involve whimpering his name. He further tips the scale by plunging another finger into your heat and using his hand to lean your head against his shoulder. One of your legs stays on the couch but the other slides off, opening yourself up to him even more.

“Slumming it in a motel while filming a movie with a half million dollar budget.” Despite being in a position of comfort Eunseok’s words have the opposite effect. He’s sturdy against you, unmoving from your body twitches and sudden movements when he hits that spot he has memorized. He so clearly wants to aggravate you while bringing you pleasure, he wants you to fight with him while he bends his hand at an odd uncomfortable angle just for you. “Aren’t you sick of it?” He asks.

“No. I’m not.” You try to bite back but your body preens forward into Eunseok’s fingers and your head leans fully into his shoulder. “Not everyone becomes a classist pig after a little success in the box office.”

“It was actually after I got my first Emmy.” Eunseok’s hand wraps around your waist and brings you further into his lap. Eunseok speeds up his hand as he brings his face closer to yours, so close your clammy cheeks touch. “You wouldn’t know anything about that though, would you?” He sneers.

Everything always goes back to that fucking Emmy. You still remember being up against him in the Outstanding Limited or Anthology Series. Your project was your one and only attempt at anything that wasn’t a movie, and it was Eunseok’s first of many. You remember thinking about how nice the titles of your shows looked side by side when Eunseok won. The fan wars that were fueled by Eunseok’s win plagued your social media feed for weeks. You still periodically saw the clip of Eunseok appearing on screen before the camera cut to you in the crowd. 

“The award wasn’t just for you.” You dig your hands into Eunseok’s waist to try and ground yourself. “You’e not that special. Just a one trick pony.” You lie.

Your heart only has the chance to drop for a second from your lie before Eunseok chuckles again. His fingers inside of you don’t even falter from your jab, instead his other hand pushes your leg until you move it to one side. Your other leg comes up from the ground and before you know it you’re straddling Eunseok as his fingers continue to push into you. The squelching sounds between your two bodies is louder than the kiss he places on your sweaty forehead before going to your ear. 

“You haven’t even seen all my tricks.” He teases.

Eunseok bested you once again. You have nothing to say in response to his fingers that suddenly picked up their pace, you only clutch at him tighter and moan so pitifully it’s barely muffled by his shirt. Your voice floats up to the ceilings as you crumble against his chest. You see the darkened spot on the shirt from your saliva the same time you feel Eunseok press a kiss to the top of your head.

“You’re breaking my heart, honey.” He coos. “I didn’t take you for the competitive type.” 

Eunseok’s hands increase their pace and you can already feel more drool peaking past your lips. You’re being bullied to the edge and Eunseok hasn’t even take his pants off yet. You squirm in his touch again, pressing your hips down to feel his hard dick jump in his sweats. The feeling pushes you forward, it gives you motivation to try and speak.

“I’m not competitive.” You lie again.

Eunseok hums and slips his fingers out of you. The lack of stimulation causes you to whine but gives you room to push your hips against his. Eunseok’s wet fingers grab at your hip and works them back and forth. You hear the content sigh tumble past his lips as your hands grip the couch on either side of his head. You finally find the strength to lift your head up and press your open mouth to Eunseok’s. 

“Then say my movie is gonna do better than yours.” Eunseok murmurs against your lips and pushes you down again. You pant hot air into his mouth and tilt your head, silently wishing he’d kiss you instead of taunting you. “Say it and I’ll fuck you so good.” He says simply.

You shake your head and Eunseok runs his hands up and down your arms, light as a feather to make goosebumps raise across your skin. He pulls away from your lips and looks at your heaving chest and your perked nipples that poke against the fabric. One of his hands harshly pinches at your nipple, causing you to cry out. As an instinct you smack his hand even harder. He looks up from your chest to your face with a smile on his lips.

“So, so, so good.” He taunts.

Eunseok looks you in your eyes again but you can’t even bring yourself to retort. You are still trying to clear the haze and calm your lust from the edging. You only slightly back away from the peak of pleasure before you start pressing your hips down on Eunseok’s. Your previous position on his lap made it had to feel it but straddling his hips let you feel all of him. He throbs against your clothed pussy through his gray sweatpants. Eunseok even lifts his hips upwards to press against you more. You breath heavily into the crook of his neck, but you still shake your head weakly.

“I’m not gonna say it.” You whimper.

“Then you’re not getting it.” Eunseok groans.

For a moment your heart drops at the thought of Eunseok lifting you off his lap or holding your waist to cease your movements. But Eunseok is caught up the same way you are, even if he tries to act like he isn’t. He doesn’t want you to stop, clear in the way he greedily moves your hips when you lose your pace. 

You can feel his dick continue to pulse, the stimulation has you dragging your bare cunt on the fabric of his sweatpants. You swear you can feel all of Eunseok and he moans like he can feel all of you too. His hands press unbelievably hard into your waist to help guide you up and down his length.

“You’re not getting it.” He repeats.

Eunseok is so quiet you think he is speaking to himself rather than to you. But you still nod in the crook of his neck, kissing the exposed skin before tilting your head upwards towards his ear.

“I’m not getting it.” You echo.

Eunseok brings a hand between your shoulder blades and presses your chest against his. he starts lifting his hips with more fervor, letting out a quiet curse into the air when a tiny whine escapes your throat. You purposely push your hand against Eunseok’s thigh just so he will grab your wrist and hold it against your lower back.

“You wouldn’t even be able to handle it, would you?” He whispers.

"It's been too long." You quietly whimper back.

Moments like these where you two are so desperate to be quiet takes you back to your motel days together. The walls were thin as paper back then and you two had an irrational fear of being caught like you weren’t two consenting adults. You’d moan and whimper quietly into eachothers ears, chasing so desperately after that feeling you were both pursuing now. Back then you two would kiss alot more and only praises would fall from Eunseok's lips.

You weren’t sure what you preferred. Pleasure was pleasure the same way wealth was wealth no matter who was administering it. You did wonder if clutching at Eunseok’s shirt would’ve been more fulfilling if you two were on the stiff loveseat cramped in the corner of your motel room. You wondered if hearing him moan your name sweetly would’ve sent you over the edge faster if he still presented himself the same way he used to.

The thought of slumming it with Eunseok again brought you back to the edge again. You went back to the crook of Eunseok's neck as your body swayed against his. You felt the impeding orgasm loom over you. You dug your nails into his shirt and leaned against the back of the couch. For a moment you were so lost in the throes of pleasure you forgot where you were. When you opened your eyes you remembered, and when you remembered it felt further away than ever.

You were subjected to the view from the top floor of this fancy hotel, looking down at the rest of the city beneath you. You saw the cars of people just now getting off from their shifts or people heading to work while you were all the way up here, carelessly enjoying the life of luxury by fucking in the presidential suite. Your hands were tangled in the hair of your arguably richer ex-whatever, and you were grinding on custom Italian that cost more than what most made in a year. You remember being down there, struggling to get a decent nights rest after being a corporate slave all day. That was your life but it felt like an eternity ago. Instead of Eunseok and what he was giving you your mind went to the yawning bellhops and the barista who made your coffee this morning. You saw them in the dark reflection next to yourself in the glass of the window. You focused on your mussed appearance and the back of Eunseok's head. Maybe this really was a persona, maybe you were something worse.

“I can’t.” You whimpered suddenly, stilling your hips against Eunseok’s.

Eunseok looked from your waist to you. His furrowed eyebrow went from focused to confused. You looked at the sweat dot his forehead and line his top plump lip. He looked like he did when you first met, taking you back to the time you wanted to escape from so badly. When you tried to pull away Eunseok shook his head and continued to hold you close. Your loudest sound fell from your lips, something between overwhelming pleasure and the unbearable guilt that comes with achieving success you can barely conceptualize.

“You can. You’re so close already.” Eunseok pulls your view away from your reflection to press your forehead against his. He looks at you intently again, like you were his beginning and end. “My star.” He coos.

Your hips falter at the nickname. Eunseok smiles and grinds his clothed dick against you again, showing that your nickname has an effect on him too. You press your forehead harder against his, the sweaty surfaces sticking together as you two let out heavy pants. You can feel yourself clenching around nothing, squeezing around air as you get closer and closer to the edge. The grip you have on Eunseok becomes so strong your hands begin to shake.

“I’m close.” Eunseok breaks apart from your forehead to lean his head against the couch. His neck is on full display for you, the protrusion in the middle of his throat bobs up and down as he tries regaining his composure. “Keep going.” He whines.

Everytime without fail, Eunseok became the most vulnerable right before he finishes. His own persona crumbles before you. If you ever brought up how pitiful he becomes in the pursuit of his orgasm he would accuse you of projection, but his submission was so palatable you could taste it. He was no longer the cocky movie star, but a defenseless whining mess underneath you. You could always see how badly he wanted to be taken care of, it was written on his lips and evident in the way his grip tightened on you but no longer guided your movements. He needed you to press deeper into him, to kiss him all over and talk him through it.

“Look at me.” You said.

Whether your voice was commanding enough didn’t matter, because Eunseok opened his eyes almost immediately. You looked at him instead of looking around his suite or looking past him outside the large windows. You stayed locked in on Eunseok’s blown out eyes, focusing on yourself in his eyes instead. You never changed on the glassy wet reflection. You still looked the same when you stared intensely at them.

Something about Eunseok being so weak made you feel strong. You forgot about your overwhelming guilt to press your hips down to Eunseok’s and rock against him quickly, looking directly into his eyes. He only lasted a moment before his back arched off the couch and his eyes were screwed shut. You moved one of your hands from Eunseok’s shoulder to thread through his hair, pulling tightly as your hips continued to move.

He started twitching underneath you and you let yourself collapse against his chest. Designer perfume and Eunseok filled your nose as you whimpered against his chest and a beat later the familiar warmth washed over you. Your hips started moving erratically as you settled deeper into his chest, repeating that you were cumming after Eunseok already came in his sweats. 

“Go ahead.” Eunseok weakly cooed at you as his hands ran up and down your back. “I got you.”

You nodded against his chest, and you didn’t stop nodding until you felt the warmth subside. You let out a heave against Eunseok’s chest. The both of you had matching heart rates and the same heavy pants. 

You rested against him and he pulled you closer, still rubbing your back as you came down. When you could manage moving your body agains you started massaging Eunseok’s scalp, paying closer attention to the area that you had his hair tugged between your fingers.

Even with knowing you were a sticky sweaty mess you felt comfortable. When you were against Eunseok’s shoulder all you saw was him. You didn’t worry that you defiled the expensive Italian sofa or that you might’ve disturbed the neighbors. You were only focused on the whirring of a machine somewhere and the fact that Eunseok smelled like you now. Everything was reminiscent of the life you were accustomed to.

“So.” Eunseok clears his throat and lets his head rest against yours that’s still slumped in his shoulder. “You gonna stay the night? Or go back to the dirty motel?” He asks.

Instantly the veil is lifted. The fog in your mind clears and the strength comes back to your limbs. You pull out of Eunseok’s hold get up from his lap with a grunt and walk over to your pants, pulling them up your leg as Eunseok scoots forward to the edge of the sofa.

“Don’t be like that.” He says.

You shake your head again and pull up your pants quickly. You even wag your finger as Eunseok to show him he’s really messed up. 

“You ruined it.” You say. 

You walk through the dark of the suite, trying not to run into anything on your way out. The worst thing would be to leave a trace of your presence anywhere. You want to be in and out like a ghost, you want to be back in the comfort of your scratchy sheets.

“Seriously you should stay.” You hear a tiny gross leave Eunseok’s lips as he gets up from the couch. You can hear his bare feet against the floor of the room as pads after you. You don’t turn around, you only reach for your baseball cap sitting on top of the command center. “It’s so late.” He reasons.

Your mask is already on your face by the time Eunseok makes it to your side. His voice is hoarse, when you turn around you see his hair is still bumped on one side as you secure the baseball cap onto your head.

“I gotta get back to my dirty motel.” You emphasize the end. Eunseok’s eye roll and the dark splotch on his sweats is tinted behind the your shades before you turn to grab your jacket. “My taxi is waiting for me.” You say.

You can tell Eunseok has given up any attempt to get you to stay when you zip up your jacket. Instead he puts his hand on the doorknob, stopping you from pulling it open. When your hand goes to the deadbolt Eunseok puts his hand over that too. You see his softened gaze behind the dark tint of your shades, so inviting you have the urge to stay.

“How long are you in LA for?” Eunseok asks. 

Your hand goes to the small chain above the deadbolt lock right beside Eunseok’s head. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” You say.

Eunseok puts his hands up in defense and you take the moment to undo the lock and turn the knob. The door is heavy, it pulls you slightly forward as you try to open it. Eunseok helps you the rest of the way and you’re forced to walk past him to go into the hallway. You don’t dare to turn back and look at Eunseok when you make it to the hallway. You keep your eyes on the elevator only, so close to escape.

“Maybe next time we can fuck on the nasty sheets in a motel?”

Eunseok speaks above his normal volume because he knows it will make you turn around. He swears he can see the indignation  in your eyes as you point your finger at him in warning. He puts his hands up in defense again and laughs at your reaction.

“Shut up.” You seethe behind gritted teeth. 

“I’m just saying it’ll be a nice change of pace for me.” He says, equally as loud.

Eunseok is happy he’s able to wear you down when you pull out your phone and start vigorously typing. He hears his phone chime behind him on top of the command center before you stuff your phone back into your pocket.

“I sent you my schedule for the next month.” You point your finger at him again as you start heading backwards to the elevator. “Don’t make me regret it.” You seethe.

Eunseok leans against his door, nodding mockingly.

“You won’t.” He says.

Eunseok stays leaned against his door even when you turn away from him and walk towards the elevator. He doesn’t catch your eye again until you turn inside the open elevator to face the exit. He decides to be even more of an asshole by bowing to you just to show you how grateful he is. Eunseok waves to you with all his might as the doors came to a slow close in front of you. 

You make it back down to the lobby, the same staff there as when you went up. You notice the concierge staring at you from across the lobby. You feel her gaze never leave your body as you shift uncomfortably from the unwanted attention and the feeling from your underwear. Enamel Pin doesn’t say a word to you as he opens the door, he barely gives you a nod as you walk past him.

The bellhops look from the yellow taxi to you, they make a step towards the back of the cab before standing still in their place. You don’t know what you’re waiting for but you’re still too. Everyone outside is still, no one moves until you hear see the passenger side window roll down.

“Have a nice night, miss.” Enamel Pin says.

The bellhops move to the car that comes up behind the taxi and your feet finally move. You open your own door and clamber into the backseat. You close your own door and motion for the driver to take you back to the same spot.

You look up from your seat in the car, trying to find the top floor of the hotel. It’s impossible to see from down here. You still try to find the top as the cab leaves the lobby, heading the same direction you came from.

[hannieehaee]

Thinking about doting woozi awakened something in me hnnng something about a tsundere man being soft is so fucking cute like you just KNOW he'd be so awkward abt it at first but as soon as he knows that you like it and even WANT IT from him he'd be the softest man on earth

content: bf!woozi, established relationship, pure fluff, woozi is starving for affection and doesnt know how to react to it!!

wc: 610

a/n: i know this wasnt a request but i had to turn it into a little drabble bc im so obsessed with him and wanna take care of him so badly i just need to manifest that need into writing</3

masterlist

the first time you took care of jihoon was subtle. it barely went noticed by him at first, but when he realized, he couldn't help but recoil to himself. it was odd, really, to have someone care for you in subtle ways. it wasn't expected.

in reality, it had been quite simple. walking into his home studio, he almost missed it due to his organizational habits, but upon closer inspection it was obvious. you had cleaned up.

not only had you done the usual superficial upkeep that he was accustomed to doing, but you'd dusted! you'd moved every figurine, every bit of equipment, every movable object, basically, and dusted it before placing it right back where it belonged. the air smelled clean too, courtesy of your good taste in cleaning products.

the cleanliness gave him a newfound energy, especially due to knowing it had been your act.

next time he saw you, he was a bit embarrassed to thank you, but still managed a hug and a suspicious 'love you' murmured against your lips without any further explanation.

~

cleaning his home studio became a more common occurrence after a while. jihoon had at some point formally expressed his gratitude for it, but also added the lack of need for it. he felt badly having you clean for him, so he shyly stumbled his way into telling you that it was okay! he wouldn't want you to tire yourself with such a task!

this was met with a squeeze at his hip and a giggle as you let him know that you didn't mind. he was rarely at home while you worked from home, so cleaning just became a natural part of your day.

he accepted this with warmth in his stomach. it was nice that it didn't feel like a responsibility to you. you just did it because you wanted to help him. he liked being helped.

this came along with various other acts of service you'd do without question. acts which continued to make jihoon's heart flurry with a mixture of gratitude and bashfulness.

the list was quite long, once he took a minute to really think about it.

you'd drop in with lunch for him and his bandmates every so often (which was quite a feat considering the number of friends he had), you'd brush his hair any time he let it grow a little more (claiming you just had that magic touch — which, granted, you did), suddenly he'd have socks on his feet when he woke up on a cold night, would find a brand newly knitted scarf on his way out the door in the morning, his kitchen would be stocked with his favorite coffee mix. there were too many tiny details to count.

jihoon always tried to return the favor, but would always feel like he lacked. no one in this world could compare to how doting you were, he'd decided.

worst of all was the viscerally embarrassing way in which he'd react at your acts of service.

he'd always known himself to be bad at receiving love, but he had thought that being with you would teach him a thing to do. the reality was, though, that the stuttering and the blush on his cheeks would just become a staple every time you so much as removed an eyelash from his cheek.

he sometimes wondered to himself, did you realize? how affection-starved he was? how much he truly appreciated your affections despite being the worst at verbalizing this gratefulness?

but the answer was found in the kiss pressed to his cheek any time he'd stutter his way through a 'thank you, i love you.'

[no-144444]

quick tweet, big problem- o.piastri

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summary: you and oscar are together, but the world doesn't need to know you're engaged. lando decides they do.

pairing: oscar piastri x fem! kravitz! reader

(context in case you don't know him: ted kravitz is a skyf1 presenter)

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“Red flag, red flag, come in,” Tom said.

Annoyance surged through him. This race was not going his way at all. He started slowing down, following closely behind Lawson. “Who’s off?”

“Colapinto,” he explained. “It’s a big one, probably a 20 to 30 minute red flag.”

For fucks sake. Oscar had told them it was too dangerous. They didn’t listen. He paid the price. Now Max was up into p2, and Lando was stuck in p5. Oscar couldn’t even do anything to help. He grunted, getting out of the car and following Tom back to the garage. 

He was ushered over to his engineers, but honestly all he wanted was to see you. Being Lando’s race engineer, Oscar had seen you around the paddock in some of his first weeks and befriended you, on top of that, he’d fallen madly in love with you and asked you out 11 months ago. You two had been going out for 11 months now, and, while he could see you between the screens as his engineers and Andrea gave him advice about the race, he kind of tuned them out, too busy staring at you.

“Jesus, loverboy, just go say hi and come back, alright? We need you thinking with your head, not your dick,” Zak scoffed, finally allowing him to see you. 

Quickly, Oscar rounded the corner of the desk and wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his head on the top of yours. You didn’t stop talking to Lando, explaining the plan for the rest of the race. 

“But I fucking said to stay out,” Lando whined. 

“No, you told us to box you. We told you to stay out,” you explained, your voice calm. 

Lando just scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” then walked off to go brood somewhere else. 

“Shitty weather, eh?” you mused.

“Awful,” he nodded. 

“Is that sweat or rain?” you asked, feeling how wet he truly was. 

“Both,” he sighed. He knew there were about forty cameras on the two of you. Moments between you two that the public saw were few and far between. You liked it that way. He liked it that way. Privacy was something he essentially gave up when he became a public figure, but that didn’t mean you had to. “How’s Lando doing?”

“He’s just pissed away his chance at World Champion,” you took a deep breath, leaning into him. “And I’ll be the one he screams at during the end of the race. I’ll be the one having to explain it to Zak, and I won’t get home until probably tomorrow. And my dad is staring at us.”

Oscar groaned. “Fucking hate dealing with this shit.” 

You nodded. “Me too. But at least there’s no race for two weeks.” 

“We’re off to Melbourne,” he reminded you. “Have to do the family rounds, since we’re engaged,” he beamed. Over the last break, Oscar had proposed. It was the happiest moment of your lives (closely followed by Oscar’s win in Baku), and now you were on your way to visit his extended family for the first time. Since he’d met most of your family (especially considering Ted Kravitz was your father and Oscar met him before he met you), it was only fair that you make the trip and meet his.

Before that though, you had to get through today. 

“You’d better go chat with your engineers,” you took your hands off his. “Zak is giving me dirty looks.”

He rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. “I don’t want to.” 

You chuckled. “Go,” you urged him. “If you get higher than p9 I’ll give you a kiss at the end of the race.”

“Good deal,” he pondered. “Or I could just kiss you now,” and with that, he pressed his lips to yours quickly, before running off to his side of the garage. 

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Lando was an idiot, but he was Oscar's idiot, so you didn't kill him. You knew it was only a matter of time before someone slipped up, whether it be your dad, you, or Oscar. You didn't suspect it would be Lando, though. You did enjoy watching Oscar shout at him though. That was pretty funny.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[fallbhind]

‘OH SWEET 'N SOUR LEMONS’ RAFE CAMERON

genre smut wordcount 2k

“we can work on it”

─── content warnings ,, dilf!rafe, old!rafe, young!reader, fem!reader, unprotected sex (wrap that shit 'fore you tap it), oral (m! receiving) p in v, slight tit play, more of 'make up' or 'i'm sorry' sex rather than it coming from real emotions, aftercare tho.

─── authors note ,, so erm first time writing about rafe so take the dilf daddy version him and hide him in your closet.

per usual, another fucking (typical) stupid argument with rafe because you wanted to hang out but he had his kids that weekend, so he was busy. sure, you typically wouldn't mind, but his ex-wife was totally slacking on her duties, and maybe you thought that because you were almost a decade younger than rafe, but he'd been stuck with the kids for almost a month with no break.

it wasn't fair. but you knew that bitch-of-an-ex was doing it out of spite because he found someone younger, hence, you.

you were helping the kids to bed, in the maze of tanneyhill, you led them to their bed room. "in your beds." you said softly, tucking them both in one at a time. you pressed a soft kiss onto his little girls head.

with a flick of the light, the dark room was instantly lighted with the ladybug night light plugged into the wall, "night." you muttered to the two, leaving the door cracked. you were a good stepmother, a stark reminder in you and the children's relationship. you'll never be able to replace their real momma, but you can try.

rafe was rewinding after a long day. flicking through every channel as you settled on the couch, the couch dipping underneath your weight. rafe constantly fiddled with the ring on his finger, which reminded him more of his dad every. single. day. after a few minutes of dwelling on the animal planet channel, he switched it, before deciding to switch off the tv. you both saw your reflections. rafe's pouting expression, and your even poutier expression.

he turned the tv back on, disliking the fact he could just see his reflection in the tv, as well as yours as the screen went to black. the soft flicker of the tv coming back on, you drew your attention to it.

"mm." rafe said gruffly, a poor attempt to start even the slightest conversation with you. you let out a soft grunt back, initially saying he could continue. "'m sorry about earlier." he said quietly, not to mention quickly.

you nodded softly, turning to look at him as he scratched his fingers into his freshly shaved buzz cut. not even going to lie, he looked oh so good in his blue-white button up shirt. "me too." you whispered back, going back to whatever was playing on tv, feigning you were actually interested.

you nervously played with the drawstring off your jacket. you were more of a carefree person with a hobo-ish style. and it fit rafe just fine. "nothin' good is on." you said admittedly, turning your head towards rafe, unconsciously moving closer to him.

he shifted slightly, his arms welcoming you in his hold. you leaned into him, closing your eyes as you took a deep breath. rafe's arm calmly laid across your shoulder, weighing you down slightly. you pulled your legs off the ground, pulling yourself closer to rafe. that was the main difference between rafe and his ex and you and rafe. you and him got over arguments, while rafe and his ex tended to go with out talking. maybe it was just your attachment issues with him you couldn't stay mad, or you didn't want him to say he wanted to break up because sure, the sex was good, but at the end of the day, you always wanted to be a mother to his kids rather than leaving.

"your a good co-parent." rafe whispered into your head, referring to when he flew a few not so friendly insults towards you and trying to replace his ex. sure, that's really what you were trying to do, but it didn't mean that it wouldn't hurt when he called you out on it. maybe that was partially you didn't want to face the reality of the doubts you could ever replace his girls mother. but you can try. she wasn't even a good mom in the first place, you thought to yourself, and you weren't wrong.

you nodded softly when he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "i know i am." you said back to him. he rollled his eyes at the oh so bratty comment back to what he told you. "brat" he mumbled to you.

after a boring thirty minutes, rafe opted to go lay down, he left you alone in the living room to dwell about really anything. rafe was so frustrating, sexually and in general. you made your way to the bedroom, turning off the light off in the living room. you traveled your way through the dark hallway to your bedroom. you passed the girls bedroom, hearing their peaceful soft snores. you stoped at their bedroom, peaking into their bedroom where the soft ladybug night light flickered gently.

you left their door cracked, walking towards your bedroom. greeted by rafe, "hey baby, c'mere," he said softly, "come lay down." he put his book on the side of the bed.

you changed into your pajama, then you crawled into bed with him. "'m so tired." you whispered, laying right on top of him. you threw an arm around his torso, burying your face into his pillow on his side of the bed.

he nodded, "i know. but i need you to do something for me." he cupped your cheek, his hand tangled in your hair. rafe pulled you in for a gentle kiss, "i've been s'pent up since the kids have been here for weeks 'n know their sleepin'" his hand caressed your face ever so gently. after subtle hinting, you made a face before nodding before he hooked his fingers under his black fancy pants, pushing them down slightly, his boxers coming next.

it was almost gave him embarrassment on how fast it went up. but then again comes the factor of he hasn't been able to request your assistance since his children have been at home. while you enjoyed the bonding with his two daughters, he wasn't the only thing pent up. rather than having sex when they went to bed, the both of you watched tv.

you wriggled your way in between his legs, grabbing the base of his cock before gently licking the precum off his tip. he let out a soft groan, which was more whimper like than anything. you made him so submissive in a way, y'know, like he acts big and bad before sucking him off, but as soon as you lick his sensitive tip he becomes all whimpery, and it turned you on.

you slowly pushed your mouth all the way onto his cock, your plump lips moving up and down on him. he let out a soft noise out of pleasure, one of your hands going to cup his ball, feeling then already tighten.

you let out a whimper as his cock hit the back of your throat voluntarily. and it kept repeatingly hitting the back of your throat, and you let out a gagging noise, showing of your not-so-good-gag reflex. "t's'okay." rafe managed out, "we can work on it." he softly pushed your head down, not letting you up for breath of air, and than when he found himself nearer towards release, he let you up.

after inhaling air, you went back down to finish him. rafe convulsed, his hand falling away from the vice he had on your hair, his eyes rolled back, "fuck." he groaned, his back arching slight as he came in your mouth. "swallow it f'me." he tapped your chin, shutting your mouth for you. he held your chin in satisfaction as he watched you swallow his warm load. he wiped the slight load on the side of your face, which was what didn't go all the way into your mouth.

you sat up, kicking off your pajama shorts that rafe had bought you, than hooking your thumb on the waist band of your underwear, pulling it down. he shuddered, attentively going to touch your shining pussy. he massaged your clit, earning a good and well earned soft moan from you.

he pulled you back onto him, allowing you to insert his cock into your tight hole. you both let out collective groans and moans. your room felt like a fucking sauna the way your body caught fire when you made contact with his body. you rolled your hips, like how your eyes rolled into the back of your head. you let out another moan as your hips rocked back and forth on him.

he grabbed your hips, slowing your pace down by the slightest. rafe held you in a vice, despite your quiet(ish) mewls of protest wanting to rock your own hips (key thing to why he thinks your a brat). "sh, you're a good girl." he whispered insight to your slight protests

you let out a soft moan when he pushed you further down onto him, "rafe!" you cried out, allowing him to rock you back in forth before allowing you to do as you wanted, his hands merely resting on your thighs rather than have your hips in a vice grip.

you rolled your hips, creating friction between you and rafe. the sweat smells filled both your and rafe's nostrils. you started to slowly bounce on his cock, both you and rafe letting out groans and moans at every bounce. he started to unbutton your night shirt to release your tits, they were following each of your bounce. you used rafe's shoulder to provide you stability, whilst he was unclipping your bra from your body.

rafe whispered sweet praises as he and you both neared release. his hands went to cup your titties as they bounced. he massaged your tits when they bounced. they weren't huge, nor were they small. they were perfect for rafe, his hand cupping one and it fit in his hand. he shuddered when you convulsed, and in a moment of breath-taking pleasure, you came around his cock, your hot liquids gushing around his cock. it was a piece of art, really. with your panting and the squelch of your come around his cock, you rested against his chest as he let out yet another string of his load inside of it, combined with your and his come, it looked even better than before.

"maybe you'll get your own kid tonight." he whispered hoarsely, pulling you off his body to go to the walk in bathroom.

he grabbed a rag, running it over cold water to clean you. you laid breathless, spread out on yours and his bed. when he made his way back to the bed, he turned on the box fan in the floor to help cool the both of you off. he took the cool wash cloth, pressing it against your thigh, you body indistinctly flinching from the contrast of your boiling body to the cool rag being moved along your thigh. he gently rubbed your sensitive pussy with the rag to clean up any other liquid that might've found it's way out of your cunt.

"there you go baby." he whispered, gently pressing a kiss against your forehead, your eyes half lidded as you were on the verge of passing out. rafe helped you put on a new pair of underwear, but the same bra and pajamas. he picked your underwear from off the floor, going to throw them in your dirty close basket. he changed into a pair of boxers. the room reeked of sex, and he smelled like it himself. he plugged in your favorite air freshener into the wall before pulling himself to rest. he laid sat up in bed, scrolling on social media as he held you in his arms.

when he found himself dozing off with the phone in his hand, he sat it on the nightstand. he laid his head on yours as he fell asleep for the night, it was a really cute sight, some might say. like something out of silly rom-com, or any romantic movie, really.

TAGS .ᐟ @archiveofvirtue @sematarygirls @beausling @mattsdolll @pr3ttyf4wn

[hanmaitani]

FIRST BORN

a rumplestiltskin twisted fairytale...

PAIRING - Ryomen Sukuna x Reader WC - 1.3k GENRE - smut CW - heavy dubcon, tf sukuna, monster fucking, two cocks, oral m!receiving, unprotected fucking, size kink, mentions of breeding, cumplay? /SUMMARY - you were nothing until you made a deal with the devil, to give you a name, a status, success, he told you that you'd owe him your first born... you didn't know how he'd meant it...

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

It had been years. Years since the day you made your deal with the devil.

It isn’t like you ever forgot about it. It lived in the back of your mind constantly. The devil’s clawed fingertips digging in whenever you thought you could be happy, reminding you of the promise you’d made in return for what he’d given you.

What he’d given you… Every now and again you’d find yourself questioning if what you’d gotten was worth the price. A status. If you broke it down, all he’d done was change your status with a few people. A few of the right people.

But that small change had freefalled, spiraled into a change of success rate, your wealth, the respect people had for you. You’d been nothing when you’d made the deal, and now? Now you were well renowned in your field and making so much money you didn’t know what to do with it.

All for the low low price of a child that hadn’t even been born yet…

Sometimes the thought kept you up at night and you tried to think of loopholes. How you could just never have kids, sacrifice that desire. Or how you could convince your now soon-to-be husband you weren’t pregnant during the first and he’d never have to know.

You’d promised away your first born child and that haunted the back of your mind some days. You hadn’t thought about it at the time, the deal seeming childish and implausible. You’d regretted it since. Especially now.

You twisted in your bedsheets, your room only illuminated by the moon through the window. Every time you moved, the white silk of your nightdress brushed against your skin softly. You were nervous, but not because of the deal. In fact, it was pushed to the back of your mind for the night. Your only focus was your wedding. The one set for the morning.

The relationship had been a whirlwind. An unexpected union. But the man you’d be marrying had pursued you so purely that you were sure you could be happy with him. But that was what you were worrying about, twisting in your sheets. Would you truly be happy?

“All dressed up for me?” The voice that echoes through your room takes you by surprise. You nearly jump out of your skin as you jerk up into a sitting position, searching for the source of it. Red eyes seem to glow in the space by the window, four of them staring right at you. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten of our deal?”

You know who it is before he steps into the light, the deal that haunts you. “Y-you…” your voice is shaking as his form comes into shape, he looks different than when you first saw him. He looms taller, nearly as tall as your ceiling, four eyes and four arms. A monster in your midst.

You shake your head as you scramble up out of your bed, scuffling backwards, trying to get away without turning your back to him. “But I- I’m not- it’s not time for you to collect yet…” You’re confused, scared, and feeling so, so small.

“You all dressed up like a sacrifice for me already?” He chuckles when you hit the wall and he only has to take a few steps to cross the distance to you. Two of his arms lean against the wall near your head, caging you in, one immediately starts to grope at your hip while the last one pinches at the light fabric of your white nightdress.

“I don’t- I don’t have a child to give you…” you’re not understanding his implications, your brain not wrapping around the smirk he wears.

“You mistook my words, sweet thing,” his nose drags along your neck as he inhales and you’re sure you’re shaking when his tongue flicks out to lick you. “I left you alone for these years, waiting until you were ready. And now you think you can give yourself to another man? A mere mortal?” He laughs as his clawed fingers dig into the fabric of your dress, immediately starting to tear at it. “I made you, you’re mine. And now you’re going to give me your first born. He’ll be mine too.”

You can barely process what he’s said before he’s tearing your dress as he shoves you to your knees. Your gasp is cut short when the lower two of his arms pin your own to the wall by your head and you’re suddenly aware of how little is covering such a big part of him. Or… parts of him, you learn as tears that fabric away too.

He can smell the fear that radiates off of you as you take in the sight of his two cocks bobbing under your attention. He grips the lower one first, fisting it as he brings it closer to your lips. “Open up now,” he laughs as you obey out of fear, worried of what would happen if he were to have to force you. He’s lewd about it too, smearing the leaking tip of it against your lips before pushing past them.

The stretch of it mixed with how the second cock drags across your cheek, leaking onto it, makes you tear up in humiliation. Your lips have to open wide, stretch almost painfully to accommodate the way just one of his cocks as he pushes it in without remorse. “Remember I made you,” rings in your ears as he groans, his hand wrapping into your hair to force his cock deeper.

He isn’t kind with it. You swear your ears stop working, fuzzy sounds barely making it through the haze as he fucks into your mouth without remorse. Your saliva drips from the corners of your lips and the gags forced from your throat sound wet, squelching.

“You’re such a messy little toy, knew you would be…” His comment is paired quickly with a large glob of saliva landing on your cheek. You whine at the impact, the demeaning act of him spitting on you as his cock is snugly down your throat. Your vision darkening on the edges and your lungs burning.

You swear you’re about to lose consciousness when he pulls back, leaving the tip in your mouth as he fills your mouth with his cum. Before you can think to spit or swallow, he’s dragging you up with one hand keeping your mouth closed as he looked down at you. “Let’s keep that in there for later, okay?”

You’re dizzy as he manipulates your body. It’s embarrassing to admit but you’re already dripping by the time his second cock is prodding at your entrance.

He doesn’t care to prep you, as he holds your back to his chest, two hands on your waist to hover you over his cock. The stretch itself feels like you’re being split apart, like he’s rearranging you to fit only him as he presses into you.

Your eyes are already crossed, his hand cupping your chin so he can see your expression as you lose your wits, trying to keep you from losing the cum he’d left in your mouth. Your whines sound like gargles as he fucks into you, his other cock brushing against your clit.

“You’re such a tiny little toy,” he growls above you, one hand pressing to your lower stomach as he fucks into you, the tip of his cock bumping against his hand through your skin, “I’m going to enjoy shaping your womb to the size of my heir…”

A/N - i have many thoughts and no spoons

TAGLIST - OPEN

@needtoloveoutloud @littleplantfreak @hayatoseyepatch

@tsukiran @awkwardaardvarkforever @all-in-the-fandoms @mightyknight501 @qichun

@megumuro @s0uldarling @seiri-ously @deepenthevoid @winniethepooh-lover

@stunies @all-in-the-fandoms @little-miss-naill @hayatoseyepatch @lumestar

@theycallmenanamisgirl @iluv-ace @rockrose-blossoms @afire24 @raven-nevra

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

I know that Halloween is over but I still gotta talk about this Hocus Pocus au I thought up

(Human) Adam just moved to Salem, the witch capital of the U.S and the whole town is telling ghost stories of Lucifer Morningstar, the famous male witch who swore he’d be back to take revenge on the townspeople before he was hung by the neck until dead.

Adam thinks this is a crock of shit, so he and his new friend Lute and his sister Emily sneak into Lucifer’s house (which has since been turned into a small museum) legend tells that Lucifer can only return if a virgin lights the black flame candle and Adam is being less than honest about his sexual exploits to his new friend.

As a joke to freak them both out he lights the candle. Unfortunately for him, it works and the witch appears in a violent gust of wind

That’s all I got but I just like the idea of Adam trying to escape from witch Lucifer

MY DUDE I LOVE THIS!!! @fanofstuff01 @beef-brisket

And I'm going to have him and Lute be like freshmen in college so Adams like 19-20 and Emily is like say a senior in high school her and Adam are a year apart.

And yes they had Emily out trick or treating because she's short en to get away with it and said "teenagers are allowed candy too".

-

Lute: Adam come on this isn't funny, the curse is real.

Adam: It's not real because witches and magic aren't real. The trails were just so they could hang a bunch of people who didn't agree with their beliefs.

They looked around the museum house and at night it's creepy especially being in the woods. Emily turned on a light so they could see.

Emily: Can we go?

Adam: No look at all this cool stuff! And that book? Says it's bound in real human flesh...... Gross.

Lute watched as Adam went over to the black candle.

Lute: Don't light that! If a virgin lights the candle it's said that Lucifer Morningstar will come back from the dead.

Adam burst out laughing: Good thing I'm not a virgin then.

Emily raised a brow: You only dated Eve for like a week.

Adam: You can have sex in a week!

The truth was they only made out a little bit and then her folks didn't want her having a boyfriend until after she graduated from high school.

So yes, Adam is a virgin. But his fucking sister doesn't need to know that!

He pulled out his lighter and smirked, curses and magic what a load of shit.

Lute: Adam no!

Adam lit the candle: See, nothing to-.....

The house started to violently shake, the floorboards glowed underneath and a laughter could be heard.

Lute: The fuck!?

Emily glared at Adam: A virgin lit the candle.

Adam: W-what!? It's okay! I'll just blow it out!

He blew out the candle but the flame came back.

Lute and Emily's eyes went wide when they saw a man that matches Lucifer's picture come out from the back room.

Lucifer: And who do I owe the pleasure to? Hmm? Oh, you.~

Adam turned around and jumped, what the fuck!?

Lute: We should go.

Adam: Good idea.

They all turn to run out the door, Emily and Lute make it out but the door slams in Adams face locking him in.

Adam: Fuck!

Emily bangs on the door: Adam!!

Adam tried pulling on the door but it was no use. Chills crept up his spine when a low laugh echoed in the room. He turned to see Lucifer standing there with his book now in hand.

Lucifer: Oh, you weren't leaving already were you?~

[sweetshuga]

Lurking ✰ MS

───~𓆩♡𓆪~───

stalker!matt! Coming home from a business trip, only to find plushies and gifts all over the house—placed neatly.

You felt weird leaving your house for a few days, not because you were homesick, no, not at all, you just had that unnerving gut feeling. The one that made you feel like something was wrong—not knowing exactly what, anxiousness creeped in.

Your busy schedule and work, however, prevented you from thinking too much of it. The meetings and paperwork occupied most of your thoughts, but the feeling didn't go away, only worsened by each day spent away from home.

𓆩♡𓆪

It wasn’t a long business trip, just three days and two nights, and you arrived back on the third night. The front door opened with a soft click and you got inside, turning on the lights, you took off your shoes. And when you walked down the hall, you froze.

There were plushies on the couch, small-medium boxes of gifts on the kitchen counter, a few bags of things on the carpet beside the couch. You stood frozen for a solid 5 minutes, unable to move or speak.

"What the fuck?" You finally whispered, inching closer to the couch. You took one of the plushies, inspecting it. There was a small note attached to it—to all of the plushies. Small notes of confessions – love confessions – your gaze landed on the small box perched on top of a bigger one on the coffee table.

Your curiosity got the better of you, and your hands inched forward almost subconsciously. You took the small box first, opening it– you saw a silver necklace with a small heart pendant.

"What..." You mumbled, your voice trailing off as confusion set in. You quickly opened the bigger box, finding a dress, a beautiful black satin dress. You blinked as you stared at the expensive looking fabric in your hands.

𓆩♡𓆪

The night wore on and you decided to leave the things be, where they were, you were too surprised and tired to react strongly. "Who could that be? Should I call the cops-" suddenly your phone rang, an unknown caller.

Your heart pounded rapidly in your chest and even though every fiber in your being screamed for you to ignore— or even better, block whoever it was, you found yourself answering.

"Hello? Who is this?" A low chuckle came from the other end, a smooth honey–like voice crackled through. "Who am I? I wonder, who are you?" He taunted, causing you to frown, "excuse me-" the voice laughed, "did you like my gifts?"

Realization dawned upon you, he was the same person that left your house bombarded with gifts, the same person that most likely followed you home twice, as far as you knew.

The line beeped before you could respond, indicating that the call had ended. You tried calling the number again but it was no use, it kept telling you that the number you were calling had deactivated.

You were left shaken up, yet again.

Stage 3: Intimidation—gestures or words that felt threatening but were not direct threats.

He left you a bunch of things and called you.

𓆩♡𓆪

stage. 1 2 4

wc. 502

note. English is not my first language!

Isa's notes. Okay fuck, roomie!chris and stalker!matt are my new favourite au's. Fucking gobblin’ it up rn.

Taglist: @poolover123 @unknvhx @welovestromboli @stvrnslut @h3arts4nat

xoxo 𓆩♡𓆪

© sweetshuga

[merchelsea]

the crash — logan sargeant

pairing: logan sargeant x girlfriend!russell!reader

summary: logan had an horrible crash and this is basically how you (and your brother) got through it.

author’s note: i was in the middle of writing this when i got the news. coudn't write anything else after, but could never finish it. until today. im still not okay, logan girlie till i die. also can you guys tell i absolutely love writing about logan?

word count: 1.4k

requested?: yes.

warnings: a crash, unconcious logan, sadness, angst, cursing

masterlist | request rules (closed)

fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck.

your mind was completely blank as you watched you brother get out of his own car to run to logan's.

shit. it was the worst crash you had watched in your whole life. and you had been around this cars for the most of it.

you couldn't move, seeing your boyfriend's car upside down, smoke coming out of it like it would do on your chimneys home at christmas eve. but this smoke didn't make you feel comforted, it did the opposite.

you could breath, but barely. and you hardly managed to let tears slip from your eyes. it was all too much, way too much.

but it was when you heard george scream for logan's name that something suddenly snapped. logan wasn't responding.

your legs started moving on their own and you found yourself trying to run to the track. a mercedes crew member had to hold you to keep you from doing so, and the most painful screams left your throat as you fought against it.

marcus, george's race engineer, came to you as he saw your state.

"hey, mini one, it's gonna be okay. it's gonna be okay." he kept repeating.

you couldn't believe him, and god, you were trying hard to.

"look, he's out of the car." he pointed to the screen, you calmed down a little to try and see him clearly, your blurry eyes making it hard. your brother held one of his arms, a member of the medical team holding the other.

with tears still storming out of your eyes, you saw your brother leave him at the medical car and run towards the pits, to then come to the garage.

george ran because he knew you were probably going out of your mind, and he needed to give you some comfort, but also because he needed to get, at least, an id so he could go with logan to the hospital.

as soon as marcus saw the driver, he let go of you. your brother soon catching you in a much more comforting embrace.

"he's okay. he's alive." george whispered to you. a sigh escaping your lips as you heard it. "i'm going with him to the hospital, carmen's on her way, she will drive you there once you-"

"no, no, no, no. i need to go see him." you said, as you pulled away from him. your eyes displayed pure pain and anxiety, and it was so hard for your brother to fight you back in that moment. he could only imagine what it would be like if this was his girlfriend, but he knew he was doing the right thing.

"you are not okay right now, y/n. i'm going."

"but he's my-" he interrupted you, knowing that he would give in the second you started talking about how much you loved logan.

"it's not up to discussion. carmen shouldn't take long, she'll drive you there as soon as you're more collected." he tells you, and you open your mouth to argue again, but he's faster. "think about it, logan's gonna need you at your best. you will do him no good showing up looking miserable."

he was right, so right it made you angry. you needed to see your boyfriend, you needed to see with your own eyes that he was okay. but you nodded to your big brother, leaving him a quick kiss in the cheek before storming out to the toilets.

george quickly went for an identification and left the garage again. as he reached the medical centre everything was ready to take logan to a proper hospital. he was now awake, but still dizzy and confused.

he got in the car and logan looked at him, confused, before passing out again.

george's mind rushed to the moment you told him about logan. you and your brother had a really good relationship, and you felt pretty comfortable in telling him everything. of course that he was still a lot protective over you, but he trusted your judgement and kept out of your love life.

so when you told him logan asked you to be his girlfriend, he showed you nothing but support. but logan told you later, that your brother actually gave him a word.

george remembered every single interaction between you and logan and felt desperate about the idea of you losing your boyfriend. it was clear how much you liked each other, and sargeant was the only guy he wanted for his sister. the only one he ever thought was good enough for his other half.

was when carmen called him, telling him that you were still not okay to come, that he came back to reality. the american had already been taken away for testing and george was on his own by the waiting room.

soon enough they called his name, updating him about his brother-in-law's state and telling him he could go ahead and meet him.

george opened the door to logan's room and was recieved by terrified eyes. he heard a relieved sigh and chuckled softly.

"mate, i thought it was your sister." the american weakly whispered. "don't want her to see me like this."

the older russell could only smile to the young driver.

"she's with carmen, i thought it might be a good idea to let her calm down before she saw you." sargeant simply nodded to the brit's words, feeling relieved he had thought it all through for her well being. that was his main goal aswell.

"how are you feeling, man?" george asked. "could be better, to be fair." logan remarked. "i don't feel too much pain, but i am as disappointed as i could be." the older one shook his head, taking a seat next to your boyfriend.

"you shouldn't feel like that. i've talked to alex about the car, he tells me that sometimes it feels undrivable." he points out, looking at his face to take note of the big bruise. "but let's not talk about that, hm? how are th-"

he is interrupted by the buzz of his phone. logan could read carmen's name on the screen.

"hey, look i tried but she really isn't changing her mind. she needs to see him. we're on our way." the spanish tells him. he doesn't have time to answer cause the woman had already hang up.

"stubborn as always." he jokes to logan, who just smiles, still worried about her reaction to his state.

the both drivers continued talking, this time about food, until they heard the door opening suddenly. you abruptly moved to get closer to logan, eyes watering at the sight of his beautiful bright blue eyes, that were watering too, while carmen slowly walked over to her own boyfriend.

"hi." logan simply said, a single tear rolling down his cheek while he smiled up at you. "hi," your whisper came out broken. "are you okay?"

you asked as the first tear came down your eyes. you looked at the marks the crash had left on his face. "i think so. your brother knows better than i do, though."

you both look over at george, who hugged carmen sideways, the older couple looking at you with worry in their eyes.

"he should be fine, they are still running exams to be completely sure, but until now, nothing we should worry about. just a little bruise ruining his pretty face." you nod and take your hand up to his face, your thumb lining the bruise near his forehead. it was big, but it was a miracle he came out of that car with only that.

george points to the door, indicating they're giving you two some time and space.

"george," logan called out. the man turned around to look at your boyfriend. "thank you for everything, mate." your brother smiled down. "it was nothing, brother." he said before closing the door to the room.

logan turned to you with a silly smile "if a crash was all i needed to get along with your brother i would've done it sooner." he smiled as you closed your face, not even the slightest of smiles evident on it.

"don't joke about this. i nearly died while watching, never do that again." you commanded, but he knew you were asking him with all your heart to make sure to be safe. "i can promise you i'll try."

his soft smile made you want to burst into tears, but you managed to compose yourself. you just rolled your eyes and sarcastically smiled. "idiot."

© merchelsea

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[intoxfolklorex]

"I just ran, I didn't ask you to chase." But in some ways she was glad that he did. Who knew where she would be if someone else had been the one to catch her? Or if she'd gotten away and would be spending all of her days looking over her shoulder. At least if things were fucked she got to have someone that she knew loved her in her corner. She was thankful as she was whisked away that this wouldn't be happening in her-- well now their-- chambers, they got to keep that space for themselves. But still a bedding chamber made her nervous and she could only think about it as her ladies stripped her down before leading her into the room, a soft smile crossing her face as she saw her husband and made her way over to him. She could feel the eyes on them as soon as she was in the room and now Maisie actually was nervous. All of these people would see her. All of her.

"A good girl? A seductress more like it, having men like me chase you around like fools...But I like that about you," he said tapping the top of her nose. She might not be manipulative out of malice but it was certainly a trait he could respect. "I'll see you soon," he said letting her hand slide out of his before she was pulled away and he left to get himself ready. He was the first to arrive to the room before her, and he could see the few who had already arrived, some notable faces, and some eyes from behind the wall. And he could only turn his back and sit on the edge waiting for his wife's arrival.