#mens velvet blazer

[oxfords---notbrogues]

Richard Madden

[bansheesofinisherin2022]

i thought i could wear a tie + a white dress shirt for our christmas dinner tonight, so it cancels out the informal jeans i'm wearing but ngl i just look like an exhausted dad who went through a 9/5 week and has a slight drinking problem 😭

[inmonarchclothing]

white velvet blazer mens

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[tokkiwrites]

game show host!joel miller x contestant f! reader ▪︎summary: it's the late 1970s, and you're fresh out of college. for your graduation gift, your parents got you a special ticket to be part of your favorite game show, 'Love Jive'. They didn't know you didn't like the show itselfㅡ but it's smooth talking MC, Joel Miller. ▪︎tags: pwp, age gap (pretty hefty one), super flirty joel, shy/lovestruck reader, afab!reader, pet names galore!!, p in v (unprotected), mirror sex kind of, slight breeding kink, creampie, joel kind of has an innocence kink idk.

▪︎this has been sitting in my drafts for two months now. Hopefully, you enjoy this short and silly 2.45k words one. There is no plot for it honestly, just thought it would be a cute concept. maybe a series might come from it. Who knows? anyway!!! love ya!!

It was the summer of 1979, and the air felt heavy with possibility. You were fresh out of college, diploma in hand, and ready to take on the world—or at least that’s what you told yourself when your parents asked what came next.

Their graduation gift to you? A surprise ticket to Love Jive, the hottest game show on TV. You’d tried to hide your awkward smile when they handed it over, the envelope sparkling with glitter that matched the show’s logo. What they didn’t know was that it wasn’t the show’s ridiculous premise that had you tuning in every week.

It was him.

Joel Miller.

The man was a legend, smooth as honey and twice as sweet. The way his Texan drawl slid over those ridiculous love-related catchphrases? You swore it had ruined you for men your own age. He had to be at least twenty years older than you, but that salt-and-pepper hair, that sly smile, those broad shoulders stretching under his velvet blazer? They didn’t make men like Joel Miller anymore.

So here you were, standing nervously behind the curtain in the Love Jive studio.

“Contestants, ready?” a stagehand called.

Your stomach did a flip as the warm-up announcer's voice boomed through the speakers. The audience clapped and cheered, the excitement infectious. Before you could second-guess yourself, the curtain lifted, and the stage lights bathed you in gold.

And there he was.

Joel Miller stood center stage, microphone in hand, looking like he owned the room— and maybe he did. That million-watt smile lit up his face, his dark eyes sweeping the contestants before landing on you. He did a double take so subtle you almost missed it, but when his smile softened just a fraction, your heart skipped a beat.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” His voice rolled through the air like warm molasses, drawing chuckles from the crowd. “Looks like we’ve got ourselves some fine contestants tonight. Y’all ready to find love and maybe a little bit of fun?”

The audience erupted in cheers, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to join them. Not when Joel Miller was staring at you like you were the most interesting thing in the room.

“And what’s your name, darlin’?” Joel asked, pointing the microphone toward you.

You blinked, mouth suddenly dry. “Uh—uh, it’s—” You blurted out your name, voice cracking slightly. Joel chuckled, low and smooth, his dimples deepening as he grinned. “Well now, ain’t you just the sweetest thing. Y’all hear that? Even her name’s cute as a button.”

The crowd ooh’d and ahh’d, but Joel’s gaze stayed locked on you.

“Tell me, sweetheart,” he drawled, leaning ever so slightly closer, “what brings a lovely little thing like you to Love Jive? Lookin’ for romance? Or just here for the spectacle?” Heat bloomed in your cheeks, and you prayed the lights were too bright for anyone to notice. “Um, I—I guess you could say both?”

Joel’s eyebrows lifted, and his grin turned downright wicked. “Both, huh? Well, darlin’, I can promise you this much—you’re in for one hell of a show.” The crowd roared their approval as Joel winked at you, leaving your heart thundering in your chest. You’d come to Love Jive expecting to admire Joel Miller from afar. You hadn’t counted on becoming the center of his attention.

And as the game began, one thing became crystal clear: Joel wasn’t just hosting tonight. He was playing a game of his own— and you were the prize he had his sights set on.

Fast forward to the 15-minute commercial break.

The knock on the door came firmly, pulling you out of your flustered thoughts. You glanced at the mirror, smoothing down your blouse and trying to will away the redness on your cheeks. “Come in,” you called out, voice trembling slightly.

The door creaked open, and in stepped Joel Miller, the man of all your desires.

The sight of him so close took your breath away. He leaned casually against the doorframe for a moment, his dark eyes settling on you. His smile, warm and teasing, was the kind that made you feel like you were the only person in the world. “Well, there you are,” he drawled, his voice like velvet. “Thought I’d come check on you, see how my favorite contestant’s holdin’ up.” You blinked, trying to find your voice. “Oh, uh—fine! I’m fine,” you stammered, your hands twisting nervously.

Joel stepped fully into the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click. The dressing room wasn’t large to begin with, and his presence filled it completely, making the space feel even smaller.

“Fine, huh?” he said, leaning against the vanity, his arms crossing casually over his chest. “Can’t blame you for bein’ a little flustered. All those lights, all those people… and me.” His grin turned teasing, his gaze dropping to your lips for the briefest moment. You laughed nervously, shaking your head. “It’s not—I mean, you’re not—”

“Sweetheart, relax,” Joel interrupted, his voice a low chuckle. “I’m just messin’ with you.” His eyes softened, and he tilted his head. “But if I’m bein’ honest, you’ve got somethin’ about you. That’s got me wonderin’ if maybe I’m the one a little flustered tonight.”

Your heart skipped at his words. “Me?” you asked, disbelief clear in your voice. Joel’s grin deepened, his dimples on full display. “Yeah, you,” he said, his voice dropping slightly. He stepped closer, his hands sliding into his pockets. “Pretty little thing like you walkin’ in here, lookin’ all sweet and innocent, got every man in the audience wishin’ he was sittin' in my shoes tonight.” You felt like your face might catch fire. “I don’t think that’s true,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel reached out, gently lifting your chin so you had no choice but to look at him. His hand was warm and firm, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin. “Well, I do,” he said softly, his dark eyes holding yours. “And I don’t say things I don’t mean, sweet girl."

You swallowed hard, your breath hitching as he leaned in just slightly, his voice dropping even lower. “I was thinkin’... maybe once this show wraps up, you and I could get outta here. Go somewhere quiet. Just you and me.” Your pulse thundered in your ears, and you felt dizzy under his gaze. “You mean… like a date?”

Joel chuckled, the sound rich and deep. “Exactly like a date,” he murmured. “What do you say, sweetheart?” You nodded before you could overthink it, your shy smile breaking free. “I’d really like that.” Joel’s grin turned downright wicked. “Good,” he drawled, his hand sliding to cradle your cheek. “’Cause I’ve been dyin’ to do this all night.”

Before you could say another word, Joel leaned in and kissed you. His lips were warm and sure, moving against yours with a perfect mix of confidence and tenderness. You felt your hands instinctively grip the vanity behind you, your knees going weak as his other hand settled lightly on your waist.

The kiss lingered, soft and sweet, but with just enough heat to leave your head all dizzy. When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested lightly against yours, his thumb brushing over your cheek.

“Damn,” he murmured, his voice rougher now, “even better than I imagined.” You couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled out of you, shy and giddy all at once. “You imagined kissing me?”

Joel grinned, pressing a quick, playful kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Oh, I imagined far more than kissing you, darlin’. Hard not to when you look at me the way you do.” Your heart felt like it might burst, but before you could respond, a sharp knock sounded at the door. “Mr. Miller, we’re back in two!”

Joel sighed dramatically, giving you a wink as he stepped back. “Guess I better get back to work,” he said, his tone light but his eyes still lingering on you. “Don’t go runnin’ off after the show, y’hear? I’m not done with you yet.” You nodded, still too flustered to form a coherent sentence. With one last smirk, Joel turned and strolled out the door, leaving you breathless.

The show had ended in a blur of applause, flashing lights, and the announcer’s booming voice thanking everyone for watching. Contestants and crew mingled briefly as everyone prepared to leave. You’d just stepped to the side of the stage when one of the other contestants, a bubbly blonde in a bright orange jumpsuit, sidled up to you with a knowing smile.

“Well, well, well,” she teased, nudging you with her elbow. “Looks like you really got Mister Smooth swooning all over ya.”

You blinked, startled. “What? No, I don’t think—”

“Oh, honey,” she interrupted with a laugh, crossing her arms. “Everyone could see the way he was devouring you with his eyes. I swear, I was worried he might forget the rest of us were even there.” Your face went hot, and you shook your head quickly. “You’re imagining things.”

“Sure,” she said with a wink, already walking away. “If by ‘imagining things,’ you mean watching him look at you like you hung the moon. Enjoy it, sweetie. A man like Joel Miller doesn’t come around every day.”

Her words echoed in your head as you made your way back to your dressing room. Closing the door behind you, you exhaled deeply, desperate for a moment to collect yourself. The quiet was a relief after the chaos of the show. You slipped out of your stage outfit and into the dress you’d brought for afterward. A soft yellow dress with bell sleeves, a cinched waist, and a flowing A-line skirt covered in a delicate floral print. It felt like something out of a sunny dream, and you hoped it might give you a touch of the confidence you sorely lacked.

You were smoothing the fabric over your hips when the door opened without warning.

“Oh, wow.” The single word made you whirl around. There he was. Joel Miller, standing in the doorway. His tie was loosened, his shirt collar slightly unbuttoned, and his dark eyes were locked on you. “You’re gorgeous,” he said, the words leaving his lips like a breath. Your cheeks warmed instantly, and you managed a shy smile. “Oh, it’s just… just a dress,” you murmured, brushing your hands nervously over the skirt.

Joel stepped inside, closing the door behind him as he approached. His gaze was unwavering, taking you in like you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“Just a dress, darlin’,” he said, his voice low and rough. “But you could be wearin’ a paper bag, and you’d still be the most beautiful thing in the room.” You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Joel stopped in front of you, lifting a hand to gently cup your cheek. His thumb brushed over your skin, his touch warm and steady.

“Fuck it,” he muttered, more to himself than to you, before closing the space between you.

His lips met yours in a kiss that was anything but hesitant. Where the earlier kiss had been soft and tentative, this one was sure, filled with hunger and intent. His other hand found your waist, pulling you closer as his lips moved against yours with a passion that made your knees weak.

You couldn’t think, couldn’t speak— only feel. His touch, his warmth, the way he held you like you were something rare. “Been thinkin’ about doin’ that since the first time I saw you,” he admitted, his voice rough.

You let out a breathless laugh, your hands clutching the lapels of his jacket for balance. “You’ve kissed me twice tonight, Joel,” you teased, your voice trembling slightly. Joel grinned, his dimples making an appearance. “Yeah, I have a soft spot for sweet girls like yourself. ” he said before pausing shortly. “And if you’ll let me, darlin’, I’d be doin' a lot more than kissing you.”

Stopping him was the furthest thing from your mind.

"I'll let you.."

Without thinking, you tilt your head up, meeting his gaze with a mixture of submission and maybe a little defiance. His eyes darken, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, as if he's won some battle. " You're a good girl," he breathes, his thumb brushing the edge of your jaw. The contact sends sparks through you, and your skin burns where he touches. Without any hesitation, he spins both of you so that you are facing the large golden mirror above the counter. Joel groans, rolling his shoulders back as he bends you over the vanity, your hips snug in his grip. "God, you're so fuckin' gorgeous, angel."

you look down. "Please.." The man shakes his head and lands a hard smack on one of your asscheeks, making you yelp in the process. He takes his time pulling up your flowy dress, finally taking a look at your soaking panties, white with laced blue details. "Fuck, look at her." His calloused thumb makes contact with your clothed folds, dragging it up and down, in painfully slow circles. In mere seconds, you hear the material rip and then feel the flimsy undergarments fall on the cold tiled floor.

"What a pretty pussy." he mutters under his breath, undoing his trousers. he pulls them a bit down, enough for his manhood to spring free and slap against his covered bellybutton. you can see it all in the mirrorㅡ it's huge, to say the least. you gasp softly as you feel him drag the wet tip of it against your swollen bud, and you hide your gaze, head hanging low in embarrassment. this doesn't last long, as his rough palm grabs at your face pulling it up again. you're making eye contact with him through the lit up mirror and you see him shake his head. "No, baby. You watch while I wreck this pussy, understand?" you shake your head, agreeing, but that isn't good enough so he slaps your cheek with the back of his hand, lightly.

"Speak, sweetheart." you breathe out. "Yes, Joel." he drags the pulsing tip up and down, up and down as if he didn't make you wait long enough. truthfully you never wanted it to end, so maybe him teasing was his way of making sure this lasts. after he thinks its sufficient, Joel starts to push inside, and godㅡ your breath gets stuck into your throat, from the feeling laden with thorns. every prick of discomfort is soon replaced by an unexpected surge of delight.

Your tears fall down onto the surface under you, little moans gripping your throat as he slips inside further. "You're alright..." he assures you, asking you to surrender.

"Take it all. Atta girl, just like that..." he praises, lifting your hips a bit to get a better angle. Joel moves gently at first, each stroke hitting deeper within your core, the pain soon converging with ecstasy right as he alerts his movements. His hips dive down with force, one of his palms snaking up and wrapping itself tightly around your throat, assuring you see how good he's destroying you.

Your head was spinning, heart pounding, as his whole weight dominated over you. "That's it, little girl, look how tight she's suckin' me in." his thrusts are rough, each hit making your body bounce, the urgency as he hit that very spot each time. your whole insides burning, too cock drunk to talk or respond, other than some pathetic whines that perfectly accompanied the wet sounds your pussy made wrapped around him.

"Oh, god, please.." You manage. pulling at your hair, he starts chuckling. "Am I your god, baby? Ya like beggin'?" While thrusting relentlessly into you, jelly like legs barely holding you up anymore, your knees buckle. Feeling you tightening, the hand that was around your throat slips down to your clit, while the other makes you spread your legs wide again for easier access, this allowed you to take in a big gulp of air before you feel him deeper in your guts.

"Want me to breed this young pussy, huh? Fill you up with my babies? let people inside this roomㅡ let them film it for the whole world to see?" the room spins around you, vision blurry with tears and brain all fuzzy. you try your best to reply. "yes, oh, p-lease, please! "

"Go ahead." the man succeeded to say, between his breathy groans. "Thank you, thank you, oh god, thank you so much, Joel!" you cry out, praying to him whilst he keeps fucking into your pulsing cunt. The man buries himself into you as you come down from your high, body almost too limp to register your surroundings. then he slaps your ass, and watches you writhe under him. You looked perfect, like a carved our porcelain doll. With a few more snaps of his hips you feel he's close, his nails digging roughly into your skin as he finally paints your velvet walls with white ropes of come. "God fuckin'���!" you know that will leave bruises.

the dressing room feels sticky, and the mirror in front of you is all fogged up, but you can just barely make out your face, all tearstained and messy. You moan as he pulls out, the sudden feeling of emptiness leaving you shivering. Joel watches intently as his seed drips out of you, your body beautifully splayed out right under him like the most beautiful piece of art.

You're both quiet for a bit, before he breaks the silence. "You're still up for that date, little lady?"

[inmonarch]

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[michuga]

beautiful, dirty, rich 1

your entire life is a façade; to be rich, you have to act rich. until you meet someone who shows you that some things, you simply can't cheat your way into.

pairing: ceo jeongguk x fraud reader

warnings: swearing, catfishing, manipulation

a/n: my first series.. a bit nervous about it, but please let me know what you think :) enjoy!

to be rich, you have to act rich.

you and your roommate and best friend of many years, eunji, have been pretending to be rich for the past two years.

you were skeptical at first, but when you got into your first paris fashion show, that's when you knew this might actually succeed.

apparently, when people think you're important, they give you everything you want.

it started with a dare.

eunji’s balancing a cheap bottle of rosé on her knee, scrolling through instagram. "bet we could sneak into that," she says, flashing her screen at you. paris fashion week, influencers dripping in designer clothes, flashing cameras, and velvet ropes.

you laugh it off at first. but the idea lingers. later that night, after too much alcohol and not enough common sense, you both raid your closets, throwing together outfits that almost look designer if you squint hard enough. a pair of knockoff sunglasses here, a thrifted blazer there. you practice your walk in the mirror; chin up, eyes forward, head held high.

the next day, you arrive at the venue, hearts pounding. but something strange happens.

as you look straight ahead and strut right through, the security guy barely glances at you. the crowd parts. the cameras flash; maybe by accident, maybe not. but no one stops you.

later, sitting in the back row with a glass of champagne you definitely didn’t pay for, eunji leans over, whispering, "that was too easy."

one fashion show turns into another. and another. soon, you’re not just sneaking in—you’re invited. or at least, that’s what people think.

you start studying the scene. watching how the rich move, how they talk. the subtle flexes: a casual mention of a vacation home in the maldives, an offhand complaint about a yacht’s engine problems.

you learn to drop hints without overplaying your hand. eunji masters the art of the perfect instagram post, carefully curating your shared feed to make it look like you’ve been living this life forever.

it's been your party trick ever since.

that wasn't your last brush with wealth.

as you got bolder, you started going to places you purposely knew rich people frequented. or at least that's what the internet told you.

rooftop bars with $20 cocktails, hotel lobbies where the marble floors gleamed a little too brightly, art galleries where the paintings were just as pretentious as the people admiring them. you and eunji would walk in like you owned the place.

it was easy, once you realized how little it took to blend in.

the rules were simple: look the part, play the part, and never let them see you sweat. you and eunji learned that fast. wealth wasn’t about money; it was about perception.

the rich weren’t just beautiful and powerful—they were dirty.

it's a dirty game you were playing. a dirty game in a filthy world.

it wasn’t just about sneaking into fashion shows or getting free drinks.

no, the game got dirtier the deeper you went. men with too much money and too little conscience started noticing you. you knew their type—married with a mistress on speed dial, or single but treating women like accessories to match their suits.

none of them were good men. they were the kind who treated waiters like furniture, snapping their fingers to call them over; like they were at their beck and call. the kind who thought their money could buy loyalty, love, you.

the first time a man offered to buy you something outrageous, it was in one of those places. a dimly lit bar at the top of a five-star hotel, where the view of the city felt like it was reserved for people with trust funds and offshore accounts. you were sitting at the bar, swirling a drink you could barely afford, when he slid into the seat next to you.

stephen, with a p. mid-thirties, expensive watch, the kind of suit that whispered old money.

the conversation started the way it always did—where you’re from, what you do, the kind of small talk that feels like a performance. you mentioned, offhandedly, that your laptop was on its last leg, crashing mid-paper like it had a personal vendetta against your degree. you didn’t expect much from it; just a throwaway comment. that was your humor.

but then he laughed, like it was cute, like you were cute. and with the ease of someone who never had to check their bank account, he said, "send me the specs. i'll take care of it."

you nearly choked on your drink. but you kept your cool, because that’s the rule. don't ogle and squeal like a damn fool; act like you’ve been here before. like men buying you thousand-dollar electronics is just another thursday.

later that night, when you stumbled back into your apartment—tiny, cramped, with the leaky faucet you never got around to fixing—eunji was waiting. the second you closed the door behind you, the facade cracked, you could finally breathe. you both screamed into pillows, half in disbelief, half in exhilaration, like teenagers who’d just pulled off the ultimate prank.

two days later, the laptop arrived. brand new, still in the box, with that fresh-out-the-factory smell.

you and eunji hovered over it like it was some kind of sacred artifact.

"i'll be damned," she said in amusement, hands on her hips.

with a shrug you add, "money talks."

you weren’t just scraping by anymore—you were winning. and that was just the beginning.

the next guy flew you out to milan for the weekend because you joked about never having seen italy. the one who “accidentally” upgraded your hotel suite to a penthouse overlooking the seine.

after that, the finance bro who bought you a cartier bracelet after a month of dating, saying it matched your “timeless beauty.” you still wore it sometimes, not because of him, but because it reminded you of the game you were playing—and winning.

they never really had you. you were always three steps ahead, smiling just enough, leaning in just close enough, keeping them wrapped around your finger while you stayed untouchable at a safe distance.

you and eunji would come home after these nights, collapse onto your couch, and laugh until your stomachs hurt. you’d trade stories like war veterans, compare gifts, and toast to the next big score with whatever cheap wine you had in the fridge.

it wasn’t just about the gifts. It was the thrill of it. the rush of knowing you were beating a system that was never designed for girls like you.

but the thing about dirt—it clings to you, even when you’re wrapped in silk and drowning in champagne.

they were predators, but so were you.

or at least, you learned to be.

it was in the lies you told, the masks you wore, the way you started to forget where the real you ended and the act began.

it was fun at first—a joke, a thrill. but somewhere along the way, it stopped feeling like a game. the stakes got higher, the lines got blurrier, and you started wondering if you could ever really wash it all off.

because in this world, the glitter hides the grime. and the higher you climb, the harder it is to tell the difference.

this summer, you and eunji decided to take your two-woman show to monaco. the billionaire's playground.

back at your hotel room, both of you get ready. the faint hum of city traffic seeps in from the cracked window, mingling with the low hum of your shared playlist. your shared room smells like dry shampoo and overpriced perfume samples swiped from department store counters.

you each had a small collection of luxury items you took extra care of, only ever dry cleaning them and wearing them with the utmost care. you exchanged clothes when you wanted to switch it up, relying on each other to keep the ruse going.

your suitcase lies open on the bed, its contents meticulously arranged: the few luxury items you’ve both collected over the years like precious artifacts. a chanel blazer you snagged from a thrift store but had tailored to perfection, a pair of louboutin heels eunji found on ebay, scuffed on the sole but flawless everywhere else, a silk gucci scarf you both swear was a lucky find, even though you’re pretty sure it’s a knockoff.

eunji stands at the mirror, her hair twisted into loose waves, holding up two dresses; one black, one red. she eyes your reflection in the mirror.

"thoughts?"

you glance over from where you’re carefully steaming your blouse, a saint laurent that’s been dry-cleaned more times than you can count.

"the red says 'i own a yacht', but the black says 'i own the company that makes yachts'," you reply.

giggling, she sets the red dress back down to put the black on. "got it."

eunji moves to your side, rifling through your jewelry tray—the bracelet you share, the pearl earrings you got from that flea market but pretend are heirlooms.

grabbing the bracelet, she clasps it around your wrist with practiced ease.

"you wear this tonight. it matches you."

you nod, adjusting the bracelet on your wrist; your good luck charm. meanwhile, she slips into your heels. it’s routine by now, this exchange of identities, this careful curation of the personas you took on.

before heading out, you both step back to inspect each other in the mirror. you take turns doing a spin, making sure no left detail leaves way to reveal yourselves. one wrong move, one slip-up, and the illusion cracks.

word travels fast in this world, everyone is connected; the rich were very particular and serious about the company they keep. and you definitely couldn't afford to be blacklisted, shunned. not when you've come this far.

from the outside, you look like you belong to this world—lounging on fat trust fund bank accounts in tiny bikinis and piña coladas in your hands.

but only you and eunji know the truth; hiding in the tags carefully tucked away, credit card limits stretched thin, and whispered pep talks in hotel rooms like this one.

eunji grins, grabbing her clutch.

"eat the rich, baby."

and with that, you’re out the door, high on adrenaline, walking the thin line between who you are and who the world thinks you are.

fake it till you make it, right?

you never would have imagined faking it would get you invited to one of monaco's most famous fundraisers held for a-class actors celebs and trust fund babies.

the rooftop hums with soft jazz, laughter, and the faint clink of crystal glasses. dim lighting envelops the space, the kind that makes everything feel like a secret.

eunji grins, checking herself in a nearby mirror one last time. "you know, if we pull this off tonight, drinks are on me."

"if we pull this off tonight, drinks are on him." you shoot her a look, nodding to an older man at the bar. she laughs, playfully hitting you.

"i'm gonna be right back." eunji says, pointing to the bathroom.

with a smile and a nod, you make your way over to the bar. sitting down, you order a glass of wine.

you see her before she sees you.

she was elegant, poised, the kind of woman you'd see in old black and white movies. she also took a seat right next to you.

"i'll have what she's having" the woman motions her hands to the bartender, referring to you.

intrigued, you silently sip on your drink.

"i don't believe we've met," she starts, finally addressing you.

"there are many people here," you jest.

"and i know almost every single one of them," she says with a chuckle, one eyebrow raised. "i'm isla. isla montgomery."

as you exchange introductions, she makes small talk. you soon learn about her travels and the two companies she owns.

you don't share much about yourself, and she doesn't pry, either. it seems that she's very fond of herself; which is probably for the best.

feeling a tap on your shoulder, eunji finally graces you with her presence, two eons later.

giving isla an apologetic smile, you excuse yourself. mirroring your smile, she gestures for you to go, assuring you it's no worry.

"who was that?" eunji inquires as you both walk away.

"isla montgomery." you mock with a sarcastic tone and a roll of your eyes, glancing at eunji.

"very fancy," eunji laughs.

spotting a private blackjack table sits slightly apart from the crowd; you and eunji eventually make your way over there.

you watch as men with gold chains and women sprawled across their laps make starting bets with a few months' worth of rent, more or less.

lapping around the table from a distance, you slowly make note of their cards. their movements. their thought processes. you’ve been watching the table for an hour, quietly cataloging every tell, every mistake masked by arrogance and overpriced whiskey.

one guy was doomed the minute he was dealt his hand, a few couldn't bluff to save their lives.

either way; you already knew who would win.

about a half hour later, the result was as you had predicted.

"hey, i'm gonna tap in next round," you inform the croupier.

he nods, preparing your chips.

"what? are you serious?" eunji whisper-yells at you, lightly holding your arm to stop you. "there is no way you can go toe to toe against men who have nothing to lose! you'll be betting on your hard-earned life savings, for god's sake!"

"which is why i won't lose." you affirm.

confidence is everything in your world. it's what got you here in the first place.

"everyone at that table was horseshit. i think i have a fair shot."

"sounds like someone's confident," you hear a presence make itself known behind you.

turning around, your eyes meet the source of the voice.

a chiseled face, every line etched with precision; features carved like stone, softened by the warmth in his eyes.

a tall, well-groomed man who looks only relatively older than you and eunji.

not to mention incredibly sexy. and filthy rich, judging by the sheer amount of body jewelry he's wearing.

he raises a brow and nods his head towards the blackjack table, "think you can take my buddy taehyung?"

you follow his gaze to the blonde—taehyung. you remember him.

slick, confident, a little too eager when he thought no one was paying attention. one of the better ones, but still horseshit.

"how much you wanna bet?"

there’s no pause. no calculation. just the soft clink of his glass against the marble bar as he sets it down and says,

"i'll bet a million on you, golden girl."

the words hang there, heavier than the jazz, sharper than the city lights glittering below.

you blink, processing. you thought he was going to bet on his buddy. that’s how these games work; back your guy, show loyalty, play it safe.

but he’s not playing safe. he’s betting on you.

your pulse kicks up, but you don’t show it. instead, you lean in slightly, your voice low, laced with the same easy confidence he just threw at you.

"a million? you sure you’re not drunk?"

his grin is lazy, but his eyes are razor-sharp. "not drunk. just good at reading people"

you pick up your drink, letting the cool glass ground you, then glance back at taehyung. "let's see what blondie's got."

a million. jesus.

these people really have nothing better to do with their money.

despite your shock, you were just glad you didn't have to bet with your own money.

you move toward the table, every step deliberate, like you’ve already won. in reality, you were just trying to fathom what you got yourself into.

showtime.

you're not supposed to be here. not at this party, not at this table. but here you are, sliding into the empty seat like you own it, your dress catching the light just enough to look expensive. despite your internal panic, you don't fidget. that’s the rule. act like you belong, and no one will question it.

and never, ever show weakness. the lions won't hesitate to pounce.

you play with calm precision, not reckless but with just enough boldness to stir curiosity. you don't count cards, you read people.

betting when others hesitate, folding with a slight smirk like you know more than you let on.

years of quietly observing wealth were being put to the test, at this very moment.

you’re dealt a 9 of hearts and a 6 of spades; that’s 15. not great.

taehyung has a face card showing: an 8 of diamonds. strong position.

you get another card: 5 of clubs. now you’ve got 20—almost perfect.

everyone expects you to stand. it’s the smart move.

but you don’t.

you tap the table. "hit me."

gasps ripple around the table. the dealer hesitates, then deals. 9 of spades. you bust with 29. game over.

taehyung smirks as he plays his hand, thinking you’re reckless. jeongguk watches closely, his interest sharpened.

"guess i was feeling bold," you say, flashing a sheepish smile.

everyone assumes you've made a rookie mistake. they laugh it off, but in that split second, you've done something much more subtle: you've read taeyhung's body language.

he doesn't leave himself open for too long, immediately putting his poker face back on.

but you've already seen it—that tiny flinch in his jaw when you hit on 20. he wouldn’t have risked it. he’s cautious, calculated. but now? now you’ve thrown him off balance.

you've watched him closely, just long enough to notice the tiny flinch when you hit on 20. he doesn’t want to take risks like you did—he’s more cautious—but his pride won’t let him stand back and let you crash and burn. he watches you, and that tiny hesitation is all you need.

so when he faces a similar hand, he hesitates; like you had expected.

your words from earlier echo in his head: "the bold move is the smart move."

the smart move is to stand. but the weight of his friend's million-dollar bet on you lingers in the air, clouding his judgement. he starts to second guess himself.

taehyung knows he can't lose here, not after all the bluster. he should stand, but he feels the weight of the moment. it’s too much.

looking around, he tries to read the room.

taehyung picks up on the tension. if you're confident enough to risk hitting on 20, maybe you know something he doesn’t.

you smile next to him, tilting your head like you've already won.

his ego can't handle it.

and so he taps.

pushing away your chips, you get up. as you rise from your seat, you lean down, voice low enough for only him to hear.

"you play the cards. i play the player."

it hits him right as the dealer flips taehyung’s hidden card. he had 15, just like you did earlier. thinking you were reckless, he copied your moves.

he hit when he should’ve stood—

—and bust.

jeongguk chuckles quietly, not surprised.

"she's good."

you walk back over to him. leaning back against the bar, a slow grin spreads on his face.

"i didn’t bet on you to win the hand. i bet on you to win the game."

and you did.

maybe not the blackjack game, but you won the game.

leaning into his ear, you whisper, "what's a million anyway, right?"

with a soft triumphant smirk, you straighten up and walk away.

next >

series masterpost | masterlist | taglist

taglist: @rpwprpwprpwprw

[leonw4nter]

Hi! I love your works sm and have a silly little idea.. Maybe planning and having a wedding with leon? Like im seeing you in your dress for the first time, choosing flowers, the rings, and having all of your friends/family at your wedding etc? Just little headcannons about it would be super cute!!!

DI!Leon Headcanons on planning + having a wedding…

RE:DI!Leon x F!Reader

Leon was supposed to propose to you during an out-of-the-country trip to Switzerland but unfortunately, he left the ring behind and had to secretly beat himself up over it. One beautiful evening, after you and him had just gotten home from the orchestra, he fished the tiny velvet box from his pocket and got down on one knee, too overcome by nerves to remember the speech he swore he memorized and too much in love to stall the question.

“You’re the last person I’d want to lose and the first person I’d think of growing old with. Y/N, will you marry me?”. In the end, he got the most unforgettable ‘yes’ he’s ever heard from you.

The wedding planning took 12 months, enough time to plan the wedding straight out of your dreams. He made sure to make the occasion magical, ensuring that the wedding is fit for a goddess amongst women (in his humble opinion). The wedding rings you and Leon agreed on were perfect, eager for the day that you two will finally have them on forever and ever, the rings facing wear and tears as you go gray and feeble with him.

Everyone saw your wedding dress before your wedding day– everyone but Leon. As soon as the large doors opened up and revealed you, Leon could no longer stop the tears flowing down his cheeks– you were so beautiful and breathtaking and it was as if veiled light itself was walking down the aisle. He was unable to keep his gaze to the front, head tilting to admire you every second. “You look so beautiful,” he excitedly whispered. “I can’t believe I’m marrying you.”

Since you and him agreed on a wedding color scheme of black, different shades of pink, and varying shades of warm white, the flowers you had for your bridal bouquet also followed that scheme, the flowers being cashmere anemones; white and baby pink tulips; vanda orchids; white limonium flowers, and white mink proteas. Everyone else also wore their dresses and suits in pinks and black; Chris opted for a sleek black turtleneck and blazer with a pink flower pinned to his breast pocket. Most of the women in attendance at your wedding opted to wear pink, with the men opting for black. Everyone was buzzing with excitement in their placements: Rebecca and Claire making joking bets that whoever cries first will pay up; Jill and Hunnigan were talking about how pretty you will look; Ethan and Chris were hyping Leon up since the groom was nervous but nevertheless excited; Piers and Carlos were talking about how good everything looks and how magical the air feels.

When the priest said “you may now kiss the bride”, Leon took a small step closer to you, gently lifting the veil that covered your face. He did everything slowly, as if he wanted to savor the moment and commit every single detail– the sparkle in your eyes, the music in the background, and how everyone and everything else seemed to be a blur of colors except for the glowing bride in front of him. As soon as he removed the veil from your face, he took a few moments to admire you and pepper you with sincere compliments. He placed his left hand on your waist while his right gently cupped your cheek, big hands handling you with so much caution as if you were made of porcelain. He leans in and presses the gentlest, softest, most tender kiss ever, a small spreading on his lips when it really sinks in that he finally gets to call you his wife.

You and Leon had your first dance somewhere private since you wanted it to be a moment only you and him will share so after the first dance, you and him walk back to the reception hand-in-hand with the brightest smiles. The ring looked amazing on both your hands and Leon couldn’t stop to admire your hand. “You’ve got a ring like mine too, you know,” you’d softly tell him. “I know. It looks better with you though,” he’d respond sweetly before kissing the back of your hand. For the bouquet toss, you decided to use an exact replica of your bouquet since you wanted to keep your flowers in your own home; Rebecca ended up catching your bouquet, much to everyone’s surprise. She happily swung it around, showing it off to everyone, before walking with a happy sway of her hips towards her boyfriend Billy, which made Billy chuckle before pressing a kiss to the crown of her head.

You and Leon left early, waving everyone good night and good bye as you got in the bridal car that would take you to the hotel you were going to stay in. Since Chris was sober and had already volunteered to drive you to the hotel, he also left the party early. As soon as you two were out of the reception, it was immediately all kisses and giggles and I love yous muttered. Chris had to look you two through the rear-view mirror and say “I’m still here. You’ve got a room for all that when we get there.”

Married life won’t be all smooth sailing and conflicts are unavoidable but in facing and resolving those conflicts together, you will discover just how strong your commitment to each other is.

NOTE - TYSMM to the anon that requested this, I know I took long before I finally got to answer it but I hope it was worth the wait (despite this drabble being shorter than usual) <33 Currently craving ramyeon and mushrooms and seafood... naw but eating noodles late at night?? TOP TIER EXPERIENCE. Kinda stressing rn since one of my groupmates can't do their part on our research paper and it's getting on my last nerve BECAUSE I GAVE US SO MUCH TIME GIRLIE PLEASE 😭😭🙏🙏 Anyways, let's hope that I passed my entrance exams and the exams I took last week bc my grades cannot take another beating 🕯️TYSM for reading my fics, I <33333 UUUUUU !!!!!!!!

The hanging star divider is made by @benkeibear , the images are colored by me (sourced from Pinterest).

[harveyguilleniconodelamoda]

A Style Motif for 2025

Since Harvey's collaborations with Christian Siriano began in 2023, his red carpet moments have tended to share features for each year, bringing daring innovations on men's suits to nearly every event.

That first year, it was elevated tuxedos with luxurious trains, shoulder bows, and cropped jackets.

In 2024, it was the incorporation of corsetry, mesh, and stunning embroidery.

For 2025, Harvey appears to be branching out and pushing the envelope with backless blazers--and new designer collaborations!

Recently Harvey attended the 33rd annual Elton John AIDS Foundation Academy Awards Viewing Party in a black suit with a twist: not only was the jacket a wrap-style closure with a plunging neckline, it was backless!

Photo by Maarten de Boer for People Magazine.

The wool suit is a custom design by Jonathan Marc Stein Atelier, according to Harvey's Instagram post. The back of the jacket features an elegant gold chain and the belt, with the majority of the back open to the air.

As I mentioned in my breakdown of formal suiting for the post on Guillermo's wedding suit, the single-breasted or wrap jacket style is normally paired with a shawl collar and reserved for elegant but casual at-home wear in classic suiting, such as smoking and lounging jackets.

In this case, however, Stein paired the wrap closure with the much more formal peaked lapels of a tuxedo, usually reserved for black tie or white tie events. The look is finished with a golden lapel chain and four gold buttons on the cuffs, another touch of extra formality. The combination is unexpected, with an overall effect that is sophisticated, sexy, and daring. It speaks subtly of the kind of person who both knows the "rules" of formalwear, and also feels secure enough to break them.

The look was finished with fingerwaves by Connie Agawin and makeup by Romie Macedo. The look was styled by Melvin Sanders, who previously styled Harvey for his appearances on The Drew Barrymore Show and The View earlier this year.

The Designer

Stein is a 29-year-old designer from Ohio whose mission statement includes creating "garments for everyone" that "mirror the diverse qualities of the individuals for which they are made." (Source)

This ties into Harvey's style ethos concepts of inclusivity and authentic self-expression (though it should be noted, Stein's ready-to-wear size guide only goes to a women's XXL--not the first time I've seen similar from a designer claiming to be for "everyone," but unfortunate nonetheless).

Inclusivity is a bit of a fraught concept for the luxury fashion space in general, but that's an essay for another time. It's great in any case to see another designer working with Harvey for his red carpet looks. Christian Siriano is wonderful and will always get props from me for being a trailblazer in this regard, but if he continued to be the only option for actors of size, that would signal little headway being made in breaking the stranglehold thinness and fatphobia have on the entertainment industry.

Speaking of Siriano

...this is the second backless look Harvey has served this year, with the first being the custom Siriano teal velvet suit worn to the designer's own New York Fashion Week show.

Are we in for more backless looks for Harvey on the red carpet in 2025? I hope so!

Notes on Construction

One small quibble I have with both this and the Siriano backless look is the tailoring of the jackets. I realize that any tailoring on something as structured as a suit jacket must be made vastly more difficult by having a good third of the garment's usual construction taken away, but that's no excuse for awkward fitting on a custom piece.

This could perhaps be forgiven for Stein, who has less than a decade of experience under his belt, if he didn't tout his family's history in tailoring and his own background in engineering specifically as selling points for his designs. And Christian Siriano has been working in fashion since the Bush administration! Harvey looks gorgeous regardless, of course, but it doesn't seem unfair to say that a garment custom made for him should fit him better.

That being said, the concept of the backless blazer is still a triumph, in my opinion, and I cannot wait to see what else Harvey has in store for the red carpet this year!

[oxfords---notbrogues]

Stanley Tucci

[tribalauthor]

THE WISEWOMAN (roman reigns ff) <chapter 17>

⚠️ smut warning ⚠️

word count: 3.5K

Sophia's POV

"You are so fake for not telling us anything." Tiffany playfully scolded me as we were in the makeup room.

She was already dressed with her pink and blue gear while I am with red velvet strap dress above the knees, red glossy heels and black blazer with red flowers printed on it.

Now we are working on our makeup.

"We just wanted to be a surprise. Not even Jimmy and Solo knew." I said in my defence.

"And how is it? Do you spend time together?" Tiff asked curiously and I smiled.

"We do." I nodded my head. "He is an amazing man."

"Is he a romantic?"

"Yes." I applied some black pencil in my undereye in my waterline and Tiff squealed slightly.

"We always knew Roman is a hidden lover boy." she remarked.

"How are you with Ludwig?" I asked her.

"Normal. I wonder what he plans for us on Valentine's Day." she giggled with her wide beautiful smile. Tiffany is a really pretty woman.

"I am sure he would make a grand surprise for you." I said confidently. "How long is it that you've been with him?

"Two years." she said and I raised my eyebrows.

"Cheers to more years of you together. And I hope I am invited to the wedding."

"Definitely." she said surely.

When I got all ready for the show, Joe called me to go to the locker room but while I was on the way I bumped into Cody Rhodes.

"Miss Heyman. Hi. It's a pleasure to finally see you in person." he said while he reached his hand for a handshake. I eventually reached mine too and shook his hand hesitantly.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Rhodes." I said politely. He is a tall man and he is wearing a blue-gray suit which goes well with his icy blue eyes but I am really not sure about his hair, though.

"How is Paul?" he asked me.

"Beter but it will take time to recover fully so until then, Mr. Rhodes, you will have to deal with me." I said with a note of warning.

"Great. I mean as I learned you are very loved by the fans but even more loved within the male roster." he winked at me. "They all hated seeing your uncle coming but with you things are way more different now."

"Cute." I gave a simple reply with a tiny smile. "But how are they gonna feel now when they know they can't have me?" I asked with hoarse voice. "See you later, Mr. Rhodes."

I finally got into the room of the Bloodline.

"There you are." Joe said looking impatient but he suddenly changed the expression when he saw how I am dressed. "Ooh." he licked his lips.

Men are so easy, I swear to God.

I smirked and we crashed into each other's arms and exchanged few soft kisses.

"Wait, you are actually letting me kiss you before a show?" Joe was pleasently surprised because once I put my makeup on he is not allowed to touch me.

"Because I bought a new red lipstick that is smudge-proof, so you can kiss me all you want." I explained and he didn't wait for a second invitation.

He attacked my lips like a hungry person who sees a buffet table. As much of slow kissers we both are, right now there is a not so unexplainable lust between us.

My back was against the wall, my hands behind his back and my thigh in his one hand while the other was on my waist. Let's say we are practicing for later.

"I wonder what's underneath that dress." he whispered through the kissing.

"Guess you are gonna find this out later." I replied with heavy breaths.

As we moaned softly into each other's mouths I felt the temperature rising all over my body and explosion almost happened when I heard the door opening, seeing Jimmy, Solo...

...and the Rock.

I just had a look of horror and removed my leg from Joe's hand, fixed my hair a bit, pressing my lips and clearing my throat.

Poor way of trying to keep my cool and not seem awkward.

"If we got a little more late, who knows what would we have witnessed." Jimmy shook his head and I saw the Rock coming to us.

"So you are Sophia. The heart stealer of my cousin." the enormous man gave his hand for a handshake and I immediately shook it. He is very, very strong and buff.

About the same height as Joe. No wonder they are cousins.

"Nice to meet you, Dwayne." I greeted him. "Sorry you had to see-"

"I am a grown man, Soph. I understand my cousin the best." he spoke cheerfully. "My second wife is also 12 years younger than me."

Just like me and Joe. But will I be his second wife? We will see.

"Birmingham, Alabama." Roman growled into the mic after we did our long entrance. We payed attention to the details, too.

While my uncle walked slightly behind him with the title on his shoulders, I walked right next to Roman and he had the title on his own shoulder.

The crowd went crazy when they saw us together.

"First of all." Roman raised his index finger up. People are definitely expecting him to say "Acknowledge me" since I saw a lot of them raising the ones up but the Tribal Chief has different plans for tonight.

Instead, he turned to me and kissed me. Thank God, for that red Pat Mcgrath lipstick I just bought. I have to buy other colors as well because I know I won't be smudged at all.

Me and my boyfriend decided to include a little tongue this time and the crowd's yelling almost pierced my eardrums.

When we broke the kiss slowly, I touched my lips with my thumb.

"Second of all." he continued. "Acknowledge me." Roman growled and the crowd went crazy once again. Almost all of them were standing with their ones up in the sky.

"I'm gonna be honest. I saw a lot of people's reactions on the Internet after me and my Wise Woman exchanged a kiss." he spoke and he turned to me with a smile on his face, bringing memories when we lurked on the social medias. "Y'all seem to be surprised."

Crowd screamed "Yeah."

"Why? Isn't it perfectly clear that the Tribal Chief gets the best? The main events, the matches, the money, the title, yeah, that's right, Seth." he called out one of his biggest enemies in the business. "And of course, the best woman too." he pulled me by the waist closer to him. "Look at her. I bet you all men drooling over Sophia like crazy. I see yall well but if you want a woman like that, you gotta be the Tribal Chief first." Roman was speaking with those taunting tone with a note of childishness.

We made an eye contact before he smooched my lips once again and then let me go.

"I don't like doing recaps and all but I'm gonna address my little brother Seth Rollins. Everybody that faced you for your title which you claimed is the number one title, went through me first." he said and I exchanged some small talks with Jimmy in the meantime, agreeing.

"And failed miserably as we all saw." I added. "That's why they go for the second option. Just like men want the best woman for them, 10/10, self confidence, high standards and everything but since they can't pull her, they go for an easier option." I just made a real-life comparison which brought some serious reaction.

"Exactly." Roman agreed with me. "And he has the audacity to say he is the guy" he started laughing out loud and I chuckled as well. "He also claimed he is a workhorse but broke his back while trying to carry Raw." if Seth is watching all this, he is getting really mad right now. "And then he attacks my schedule." my boyfriend shook his head. "I work less than you, yes, actually I work like 10 times less than you...and I still make 10 times more than you." he yelled and the crowd laughed out loud. "I'm gonna ask yall, you want Seth Rollins money or Tribal Chief money?" he growled into the mic and everyone started chanting his name.

Not long after this they started screaming for Cody. Clearly, the crowd wants to see them two fight together again.

"So Cody, I'm not gonna beg you like the other guy. You either choose to be number two or you get your chance with number one again. It's your choice." Roman said with pure confidence and then licked his lips.

After Cody's music hit and did his patriotic entrance, he stepped into the ring and greeted the people that came here to see us. Everybody is really happy when they see him. I guess he has that effect on people. Cody has completely different type of aura than Roman and it's completely normal. They look different too.

My man gives off Aquaman while Cody is like Ken for some reason with just a little more dignity and smartness compared to the doll. Something I am never gonna confess in front of Joe is that Cody is the type of guy I would usually fall for. Something in him really reminds me of both of my ex-boyfriends and it doesn't have to do anything with the looks. The energy he radiates itself.

"I know what are we gonna talk about." Cody changed his catchphrase a bit. "First off, I have to congratulate our newest power couple in the company, ladies and gentlemen, Roman and Sophia."

The crowd started clapping.

"Look at them. She came here as a substitute special council but I start to think she came to find a substitute uncle." Cody said in a very witty tone and honestly I felt like laughing but I had to act angry, so did Roman. My boyfriend crossed his arms.

"Mr. Rhodes I profoundly appreciate your sense of humor but let's cut to the chase and discuss whether you are gonna fight for the Undisputed WWE Universal Heavyweight title." I spoke in a formal tone. "Also, allow me to add that I have only one uncle and his name..." I looked at the crowd, waiting for them to scream with me "...is Paul Heyman." I accomplished the desired effect. Man, I gotta love the WWE Universe.

Roman just continued sitting with his big arms crossed and a smug expression on his face, flashing me with a proud smile then turning back to Cody.

"I took a great deal of counselling this week - from friends, family and legends about who I should face at Wrestlemania." Cody started speaking. "Last year, you cheated me." he meaning the Wrestlemania 39 match where everyone was convinced Cody is gonna be the new champion but my boyfriend proved him wrong.

Me and Roman just exchanged some funny side eyes from Cody's statement. He also talked about how he almost had him, that Seth made some great points besides calling the Undisputed title 'the Hollywood title' plus adding the fact that this is the championship that was taken away from his father. The blonde man also got in a heated monologue which is typical for me usually. He started doing some deep explanation of what does "finishing the story" mean and all that.

"I'm gonna take everything from you, Roman, until you are left with nothing." Cody made a promise. "Everything." he repeated and looked at me as well. I saw Roman starting to get heated up.

I just stood there with judgy expression on my face because I'm about to laugh and I need to keep my serious composure.

"I am coming for you, Roman Reigns." Cody slightly shouted and my boyfriend grinned at him then turned to me.

"Is this familiar to you?" he asked me off mic and I pressed my lips. Oh, he is so dirty-minded.

"But not at Wrestlemania." Cody added and suddenly we were all confused. Me and Roman exchanged some puzzled expressions.

"One of the people I took counselling from knows you very well." Cody spoke and suddenly it all became silent until a music hit.

And that music was the Rock's. Everybody went completely nuts hearing this and the crowd was screaming, making me think how much people are gonna talk about tonight's segment.

As The Rock stepped into the ring, he had an intense stare down with my boyfriend and it honestly brought some chills all over my body.

I am witnessing a historical moment right here. Wrestling fans have been dreaming about this for more than a decade and if this match happens, the stakes will go the highest they have ever been.

As for tonight we are getting just a face to face stare, however. Nothing else since the team wants to test the waters what the crowd is more open to and I think for now it's perfectly clear.

Joe invited me at his house for the night. The flight was a bit more than two hours so right now is around midnight already.

I came prepared with clothes and everything although he suggested it while we we were flying. You have to be prepared with this man because you don't know where he is taking you.

We got in the spacious living room. I really love the designing of this house - everything is literally black and white marble.

It kinda screams "Joe" really. Wow. He really has a good eye for things and is indeed a man of detail and I admire that about him so much.

"Anything for drink?" he asked me as he took my coat off leaving me with the dress only.

"As of now, no. Thank you." I responded and then he attacked my lips.

"You promised me something." he whispered through the kisses and then went to kiss my neck. His beard and tongue were sending tingles through my whole body.

"What?" I moaned.

"To show me your underwear." he replied and started licking my neck increasing the volume of my moans.

"Take off the dress and see for yourself." I instructed him seductively and after not even two seconds, he unzipped my dress and slid it off me.

Then I turned to face him. Red lace lingerie, no bra and the red high heels. Joe bit his lower lip so hard that it could bleed.

I saw a big bulge forming in his pants.

Is he getting an erection? I didn't do anything. How is that even possible?

"See what you do to me? See?" he said through his teeth and I sensed a nuance of embarrassment in his voice. "Almost 40-year old man acting like a teenager." he shook his head. "Give me a few minutes." he was about to leave, probably to go to the bathroom and handle all of this alone but I caught his arm to stop him.

We made an eye contact and I got on my knees, looking at him with doe eyes.

"You got a woman like me in front of you and you are gonna go to the bathroom to pleasure yourself?" I asked with a shocked tone and his mouth slightly dropped.

Then I dropped down his pants.

"Let me take care of it, okay?" I asked him and he seemed pretty convinced.

"You're not obligated to." he finally spoke and I slightly chuckled.

"I am not but I do feel a bit guilty." I smirked. "Didn't expect this reaction." I spoke frankly as I dropped down his boxers as well and now I am face-to-face with it.

Normal me would be scared but right now I feel excitement and adrenaline. Not gonna lie, I am feeling really, really horny lately.

Me and Joe haven't done any touching besides kisses for a whole week and now I start to understand. This man is really bringing out the tigress in me as my friends said and that tigress was deeply, deeply hidden in me.

Have I done blow jobs before? No. Never liked the idea of it and probably that's why I couldn't keep my relationships, who knows? All I know is that I gotta play with that thing like a lollipop now.

I think I can make it work.

Although I saw it being shiny from the pre-cum that was forming, I still gave wet kisses on the head, making it ever more wet.

My boyfriend let out a soft groan and I felt him grabbing my hair in a ponytail with one of his hands.

After that I started licking it slowly as if I just bought my favorite ice cream in the summer, not caring it can melt from the heat.

I looked up to him and I saw his eyes close shut, gritting his teeth, so I decided to go faster. After that I started sucking on it, not completely deepthroating yet since I fear that thing can literally choke me.

I gotta test the waters first.

I put it in my mouth like half of it and it was fine. Weird but fine. I felt like I have several marshmallows stuffed - it's wide and long.

"Mm babygirl, can you try a bit deeper, please?" Joe asked as he tried not to moan and just was breathing extra heavy. Of course, I listened to his polite request.

Fuck it.

I took the whole dick in my mouth and I felt it reaching my throat, almost choking me, tears forming in my eyes.

My boyfriend moaned. They love this shit way too much.

Before the gag reflex makes the things awkward, I started going up and down with my mouth on it. Still looking directly at him.

He had his head tilted back but suddenly, like a clockwork or more like cockwork in this case, he looked down at me with a look of deep pleasure, lust and acknowledgement even I would say.

"Soph." he breathed out as I slightly fastened the pace. I bet he goes crazy from my eye contact and the way I am devouring his dick. I go crazy too from the way he is saying my name, the way he looks at me, the way he still holds my hair to help me out.

"Soph." his breaths became even heavier which made me speculate he might finish but I actually don't want him to yet because I wanna play with it a little more.

I stopped the sucking process and started licking it again with a few soft kisses here and there. Moans started coming out from him. But those really, really desperate ones which you don't expect to hear from a man.

I swear to God, my red thong got soaking wet from the sound alone. I really just got an enormous and dominant man like him moaning like that.

"You sound just amazing." I purred and then sucked on it again and after a few movements, I felt him cum in my mouth.

He let out a loud groan of relief and I felt the warm liquid filling my mouth and soon throat as I swallowed it. It had an amazing and fresh taste, not very salty. I can't quite describe it but it's definitely good. I mean he's an athlete. Of course it's gonna be tasty.

"Sophia. You are dangerous." Joe concluded and I got up to kiss him. He wrapped his hands around my waist.

"Was it good?" I asked for a feedback.

"It was perfect." he furrowed his eyebrows slightly.

"I'd need a bit more practice with the adjustment and I would need to work on that gag reflex then it would be more than perfect." I spoke as if I'm a professional blowjob judge and he just shook his head.

"It's your first time with a size like this so it will get better and better but I honestly can't imagine it better than this." he seemed sincere and I am shocked because I have never done this before.

Well, guess it isn't so hard after all.

"Thank you." I kissed him. "Also, you are delicious." I whispered.

"I am trying, you know?" he grinned. "Now, babygirl." he slid his hands down from my waist to my butt, gripping it and I let out a gasp. "I want you to walk down to that beautiful black couch with your pretty heels, lay on it and spread those beautiful legs for me cause now is my turn for a midnight snack." Joe instructed me.

I turned around and started walking slowly to that couch, swaying my hips and my pilates butt slightly jiggling.

When I reached to the couch I took off my lacy lingerie leaving myself completely naked except the shoes and then I lied on it with my legs spread waiting for Joe to devour me.

His eyes darkened, almost becoming black and he slowly licked his lips before he attacked me like a beast attacks its prey.

[zkg2318]

yk what i was thinking about the other day? this is totally self servicing bc i love jazz and i would looooove to go to a jazz bar w heehoon :P like imagine a dark smokey lounge and they sandwich you between them, humming along and lazily drumming their fingers on your thigh along to the music. and ofc you all get tipsy and moved by the music… im sure you know where im going here LOL

Hoon in that red velvet turtleneck with a black blazer over it and black dress slacks, and heeseung with a rose on the front of his white button down tucked into another pair of black slacks with a long black coat. Thats the fit they attend the jazz bar in.

There’s not a lot of people in there, just some VIP regulars and the jazz band playing live. The room is humbly small and lit with a somber ambience of purple and red. You’re in this backless dress and Heehoon are all over you, ghosting their fingers on the small of your back. Sunghoon is pulling you into his side while wrapping a protective arm around your bare back and Heeseung is busy ordering drinks for the three of you.

Not only is your dress backless, there’s also a rather large slit on the front, which irks the boys to no extent. Heeseung, sitting on the side your slit is on, traces patterns on the bare skin of your thigh, though you know he’s fuming with anger. Heehoon are perfect players in mastering the element of ignorance is bliss. If you looked at them for too long, you’d see the way Sunghoon’s jaw is clenched and the way Heeseung rhythmically curls his fingers into a fist. But from afar, you just look like a happy group of people enjoying the music while sipping on a rum and coke on the rocks.

Being the lightweight that you are, you find yourself swaying into Heeseung’s warm chest. “Baby, dance with me,” you’d say, pulling on his hand. Herseung would shoot sunghoon a look, who only returned his concern with a raise of his hand, as if telling him to go before you get upset.

You drag him into the middle of the bar and wrap his arms around your front, pressing your back into his chest. The two of you sway along to the music and heeseung does everything in his power not to pop a boner. With your ass rubbing against the zippered seam of his slacks, heeseung grits his teeth and moves his hands which were clasped across your stomach down to your hips.

Sunghoon watches from afar with a smirk, occasionally shooting the other men in the bar glaring looks because apparently, seeing you come in with two men wasn’t enough to fend off these good for nothing bastards. The band finishes up their set and you let out a chime of compliments, inebriated by the liquor making its home in your stomach. Heeseung, slightly annoyed, grabs your wrist and pulls you back to where sunghoon is.

“Baby, you were supposed to be enjoying the music, not pressing up against Heeseung’s cock like a pretty slut.” Sunghoon whispers, nuzzling your exposed neck.

You feel a warmth in your belly bloom upon hearing the rasp in sunghoon’s voice. Rubbing your thighs together, you hop back onto the bar stool between Sunghoon and Heeseung.

“Behave. We’ll sit here for a bit and sober up before heading home.” Heeseung says, running his fingers up your thigh again.

You find a sobering comfort in the way his fingers light a fire under your skin you lean into his touch and instead of dragging his hand back down like he had been doing for the last few minutes, his fingers mischievously find there way under the satin fabric of your dress. You look to Heeseung, but there’s no change of expression evident on his face. He’s just calmly conversing with Sunghoon while he toys with the side of your panties. “Heeseung…” you whisper, opening your legs wider under the bar.

“We said, behave.” Sunghoon closes your legs together by grabbing the knee closest to Heeseung and pulling it towards himself. The movement has you spinning to face Sunghoon and he stares at you with his deep brown orbs, gleaming with trouble. You fucked up.

“Spreading your legs in public?” Sunghoon tsks at you and you shudder when you feel Heeseung’s warm hand stroke your back. “Someone doesn’t want to cum tonight.”

Ok lol oops, i totally saw the vision

[inmonarchclothing]

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[that-fangirl]

Toshiya and Fashion

As someone who studied fashion, I wonder if the "revival" or "renewal" of certain iconic looks over the years is a conscious decision made by Toshiya or just a pattern from his tastes.

Naturally his taste has become more mature, refined and elegant. But some materials have remained something he reaches for constantly and the overall feeling too.

When it comes to accessories hats, gloves and pearls have been a part of his wardrobe and image over the years. In different styles and different formats but they make appearances in the late 90's, in the 2000's and until now.

Ties and chokers too.

In the fabric department, lace and leather make a comeback every now and then. And when you consider that lace has always been more heavily associated with women's fashion, I find it so remarkable, bold and refreshing to see Toshiya wearing it. To me it shows that Toshiya is a man in touch with his emotions and his divine feminine. It requires a certain touch of sensibility to reach for something like lace.

The same with velvet. Who doesn't remember the iconic blue velvet dress from the Studio Coast live?

There is something so royal and regal about the velvet dress. And the jewellery pieces? Chef's kiss. He is bold through and through.

Also keep in mind, this man doesn't mind skirts. When you study fashion and history of costume, you learn that all these things (skirts, lace and velvet were used in men's fashion for centuries.)

Fashion details like ruffles, bows, balloon sleeves and pleats also come around every know and then.

When I think of a lot of Toshiya's wardrobe pieces I get the feeling he must be a big McQueen fan. In fact I have seen him wearing the famous McQueen skull scarf during a photoshoot mid tour and he actually owns the Savage Beauty book.

There is a gothic romance, dark but sensual feeling that radiates from him sometimes.

And then... we have the more masculine tone of his fashion. The suits... my goodness I could ramble about this one none stop. The man has great build and a good suit, makes him look sharp, clean and elegant.

I do wish however that the tailoring around his back neck width, the neck drop, shoulder to shoulder length and height of the collar were made by a good tailor (not that the costume designer in charge of his fits is bad). I have only noticed that the fitting around this area often leaves creasing around his neck.

The same can be said about the fringe blazer. The concept and the visual is unrivalled. But I do have beef with it... the poor construction and sewing on that lapel gives me tailoring nightmares.

Mind you this is all the on-stage, artistic fashion surrounding Toshiya. It has been sharpened over the years so beautifully and I quite admire that about him.

[amayaonly1]

Verses Unwritten: A Rap Odyssey

Eminem x Rapper!OC

Verse 17

About: At a star-studded Christmas party, Genji finds herself cornered by Benzino, whose sly advances and thinly veiled provocations set her on edge. The situation escalates when Eminem intervenes, his simmering jealousy and protectiveness boiling over into a tense confrontation.

"Verses Unwritten: A Rap Odyssey" Chapter List: Verse 1 | Verse 2 | Verse 3 | Verse 4 | Verse 5 | Verse 6 | Verse 7 | Verse 8 | Verse 9 | Verse 10 | Verse 11 | Verse 12 | Verse 13 | Verse 14 | Verse 15 | Verse 16 | Verse 17 | Verse 18 | Verse 19 | Verse 20 | Verse 21 | Verse 22 | Verse 23 | Verse 24 | Verse 25 | Verse 26 | Verse 27

Disclaimer: This work is a work of fiction, and any involvement of the character Genji is purely fictional and not representative of any real person.

The event was in full swing, the grand ballroom buzzing with the hum of voices and clinking glasses. Genji sat at a table near the back, where the noise wasn't as suffocating, her hands loosely gripping the flute of sparkling water she'd barely touched. The industry types mingled in glittering clusters, laughing too loud and gesturing too big, each interaction a performance.

Genji adjusted the collar of her dark green satin suit and leaned back slightly in her chair. The jacket hugged her frame perfectly, paired with slim trousers that skimmed the tops of her black heels. She wore a silver bracelet on her wrist and small, delicate earrings that caught the light, understated yet elegant. As papa always told her, appearances were a matter of respect and not a spectacle. Still, even in her simplicity, she carried an air of quiet sophistication that turned heads without trying.

She wasn't here to draw attention. Had it not been for Dre's insistence, she would've spent the night hiding in the comforts of her temporary residence, scribbling lyrics in the solitude she preferred. Nevertheless, she resigned herself to the role of a quiet observer, content to let the waves of noise and colour wash over her. She always gravitated toward the quiet corners of events like these, where the weight of public expectation felt less crushing.

But, of course, quiet wasn't always an option for her in such a crowded place.

"Well, well," a smooth, confident voice called, slicing through the din like a blade. "If it isn't the Genji."

She looked up, her polite smile faltering for a split second when she recognised him. Of all people, it had to be him.

The man standing before her, all tailored charm and calculated charisma, was a name she knew as someone currently embroiled in a very public feud with Eminem. They called him Benzino, for his real name barely mattered. He came dressed to impress: a sharp, tailored black velvet blazer with satin lapels cutting a sleek figure against the crowd. Beneath it, he wore a crisp white shirt with the collar casually unbuttoned and accessorised with a chunky gold chain, diamond earrings, and an oversized watch that caught the light with every movement. Polished leather loafers completed the look, his overall attire exuding luxury and swagger, the perfect mix of holiday elegance and hip-hop bravado.

"I thought that was you," he said, pulling out a chair without waiting for an invitation. "What's a legend like you doing all the way back here? Hiding?"

"Just avoiding the spotlight," Genji replied, her voice soft but steady. She was careful not to let her discomfort show. Years of navigating spaces like this had taught her the art of composure.

He laughed, leaning in slightly, his cologne sharp and overwhelming. "Whatta shame. Someone like you belongs front and centre."

Genji's lips twitched into a faint smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. She could feel his gaze lingering, heavier than it needed to be. She wasn't naive; she recognised the way men like him operated. Compliments wrapped in charm, their true intentions lurking beneath the surface.

He reached across the table, his smirk wide and deliberate, the kind that screamed provocation. His fingers brushed against Genji's wrist. "Y'know, I've always admired your work. Maybe we could collaborate sometime. I could use someone with your… finesse."

Genji tilted her head, her smile polite but distant. "I'll keep that in mind." Unfortunately, that didn't seem to deter him as he launched into some half-charming, half-condescending spiel about "respecting her artistry" and "recognising real talent."

She remained composed, as always, offering measured responses that revealed nothing. But there was something about Benzino's tone that set her on edge: the way he lingered on her name, the too-familiar way his hand brushed against the table.

"Hey, Gen," Eminem's voice suddenly cut through the air like a razor.

Her head turned, and relief flashed briefly in her eyes. There he was, standing next to her in a black leather bomber jacket over a plain dark grey T-shirt, paired with tailored black trousers and classic white sneakers. As usual, he only had a sleek watch to complete the look, and a black beanie that added a casual touch to his otherwise polished outfit. Yet, it wasn't his outfit that drew her attention; it was how he carried himself that commanded the space without even trying.

Benzino turned slowly, his smirk unfaltering, though the tension in his shoulders betrayed him. "Marshall," he drawled, dragging out the name. "Didn't see you there."

"Yeah, I'm sure." Eminem didn't break eye contact, his gaze sharp enough to cut. "What the fuck are you doing at her table?"

Benzino chuckled, leaning back slightly like he was enjoying the show. "Relax, man. I was just having a conversation with your... friend here. Didn't know she came with a babysitter."

Genji saw Eminem's jaw twitch, his fists clenching at his sides. He stepped closer, his voice lowering but losing none of its edge. "You don't get to talk to her. Not now, not ever."

"And why's that?" Benzino shot back, crossing his arms. "You scared someone else might actually treat her with respect? Or are you just mad you can't keep her to yourself?"

The words were a match to gasoline. Eminem's composure cracked, and he stepped even closer, the space between them now nonexistent.

"You think you can walk up here and start some shit?" he hissed. "You don't get to touch what's mine."

Genji stiffened slightly at the word, her gaze flickering to Eminem. He hadn't noticed, for his attention was fully locked onto Benzino, the seething intensity in his eyes unrelenting.

The latter laughed, shaking his head. "Whatever ya say, Marshall. But if she was mine, I wouldn't be standing on the other side of the room, watching someone else take my spot."

Before the words could even fully register, Eminem's hand shot out, grabbing the front of Benzino's shirt. The room seemed to freeze for a split second as conversations faltered and heads turned.

"I fucking dare you to say that again," he growled, his voice low and shaking with fury.

"Marshall." Genji's voice cut through the tension, quiet but firm.

He froze, his grip still tight on Benzino's shirt. Slowly, he turned to look at her, the fire in his eyes dimming slightly.

"Let him go," she said, her tone calm but unyielding.

For a moment, it seemed like he might ignore her. Then, with a sharp exhale, he released Benzino, shoving him back with enough force to make the man stumble.

Benzino straightened his shirt, glaring at Eminem but wisely choosing not to escalate further. "Enjoy the rest of your night," he sneered before disappearing into the crowd.

Eminem stood there for a moment, his fists still clenched, his breathing uneven. Genji rose from her seat, stepping in front of him.

"You didn't have to do that," she said softly, her eyes searching his face.

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. "Yeah... I did."

"Why?"

The question hung between them, and for once, he didn't deflect. His shoulders slumped slightly as he looked at her, something vulnerable flashing in his eyes.

"Because I can't stand the thought of someone like him being near you," he admitted, the words rough like they had been dragged out of him.

Genji blinked, caught off guard by the raw honesty in his tone. She opened her mouth to respond, but he shook his head, stepping back.

"I'll be with Paul," he muttered before walking away, leaving her standing there with more questions than answers.