#that said it was going to be one of the most expensive hotels for the entire trip despite not being that nice

[star-lights-up]

okay okay okay but hear me out: cherik modern au no powers, mob boss dark!charles.

But we don't know that yet.

This starts with Erik.

He had a rough past, I'm thinking probably something related to Shaw, something with his parents dying, probably some time in jail, failed relationships, and some internalized homophobia mixed in there.

Anyways. He's doing okay, now. He keeps to himself. He does NOT go to therapy even though he probably should. He works a very basic nine to five. He's probably got depression. Possibly a bit of an eating disorder, because for some reason i love doing that to him. No friends, no family, just kind of numb and drifting.

Then he meets Charles.

I don't know how exactly it would happen, but it would be the most typical meet cute to end all meet cutes. Pure, fluffy fluff, straight from a hallmark movie type shit -- someone spills coffee, someone reaches for the same carton of milk at the same time as the other, SOMETHING. But Erik meets Charles, this cute little british guy with big blue eyes and freckles and an eighties haircut. He's obviously flirting with him, and Erik finds himself flirting right back, and so it goes. Charles asks for his number.

He goes out to dinner with Charles the next day, ends up spending the night at his apartment -- a big penthouse suite in one of the nicest areas of the city. And Charles is funny and charming and very, very good at making innuendos when Erik least expects him to, and with Charles's lips on his Erik begins to wonder if this could be his happily ever after, the thing that all the songs on the radio talk about, the big finale at the end of every movie.

Quickly, he learns that Charles is rich -- very, very rich. How a genetics professor is that rich, he doesn't know, but Charles buys him expensive gifts and takes him traveling and Erik refuses at first, of course, because he doesn't need Charles's charity, but Charles insists that it's just his love language, and it could make no difference to him and, well, Erik doesn't mind it so much when they're sequestered in a nice hotel room in Paris.

Soon enough, he's living with Charles. Marrying Charles.

It's wonderful. Erik feels so at home with him, feels adored and special in his eyes, feels like this is payment for everything he's ever suffered through.

And then he stumbles upon some things. Some things he shouldn't have seen.

And that's how he learns that Charles -- sweet, Charles, the guy who comes off as so innocent (though Erik knows he's anything but, but he didn't expect THIS) -- is the most feared crime lord in the whole of the city.

It becomes increasingly clear that everything charles does, everything he says, even to Erik, is calculated. His entire life is a game of manipulation, and Erik's found himself on one of the strings.

Charles has crafted the image he portrays, the perfectly sweet and wide-eyed, bumbling professor. Erik sees it fall away, sees him with his underlings, the way he's feared. The way everyone's spines straighten when he walks into a room.

Part of Erik feels special. Here's this terrifying man, of great means and with great looks and charm, who could have anyone and anything he wants -- who's chosen Erik. He says that that hasn't changed. He tells him that he does love him. That he is special. That he doesn't want anyone else.

The other part of Erik is terrified. The logical part. He tries to file for divorce, tries to run. It works for a little while -- even though his existence seems entirely desolate without Charles's easy smile and witty conversation to fill it.

Of course, Charles comes after him. Asks him to please, reconsider. He's still committed, if Erik is. That Erik can have anything he wants in the world, out of life, with him by his side. Reminds him that Erik loves him. He said so.

Erik tells him that whatever they had clearly wasn't love. It was lies. But somehow he ends up in Charles's arms and Charles's bed again, and he knows that it was his choice, and... well...

That's how Erik Lehnsherr ended up the most feared mob boss of New York city's husband. Till death do them part.

[cookinguptales]

So my dad and I went on a road trip a few years ago. We hit a lot of national parks, ghost towns, bizarre little tourist traps, the weirdest things we could find in Vegas, etc.

(Also, we accidentally went to an alien-themed brothel but I guess that's another story.)

We did... go to Death Valley... but it was not a great experience. lmao

To preface, it had been windy for a lot of our trip, which affected our stops to varying degrees. By far the two worst situations were in Petrified Forest and Death Valley. We still sort of enjoyed Petrified Forest, even though I literally got blown over a few times and the pictures weren't great. We actually talk about going back there some time to see it better because I do love fossils.

Death Valley tho...

I do like deserts, to be clear. I think deserts can be really, really beautiful. And I think maybe in much, much better circumstances, Death Valley might be beautiful. But it was not beautiful that day, and we are not making plans to go back.

We'd actually planned to stay there a couple nights, but the wind had basically kicked up a dust storm that was so bad that it cut power to the entire park. This is very dangerous in a place like Death Valley, where you can literally die if you get stranded. Like... they call it that for a reason. It was April, so less hot than it would be later, but it's still a desert in the middle of freaking nowhere.

When we finally got to our hotel, we found that it had lost power and probably wouldn't be getting it back for a day or two. That meant very little by way of food options, absolutely no internet, and, probably more importantly, it meant we wouldn't be able to charge our cell phones. The gas station also was not working.

So even though we had quite a bit of gas in the tank, the prospect of potentially running out of gas with no cell service or internet in a place called Death Valley was enough to run us out of town. We saw a little bit of the place before we left, but visibility was so poor that it was difficult to see much.

(And... I have to be honest with you, it was not the most visually interesting desert I've ever seen.)

In the end, we ended up just canceling our hotel stay (they couldn't check us in anyway) and driving to Lone Pine. Which was beautiful.

So uhhhh here are some scenes from Death Valley. Mostly, after a certain point, taken from inside a car. Because we were in a fucking dust storm.

To know just how bad the wind was, here's a video from when we stopped at the hotel/fuel center. Please keep in mind, if you turn the audio on, that I was in a truck.

For this next section, the gas station we stopped at just outside of the park, please just know that I double-checked the time stamps and this was early evening but it was not dark yet. You can kind of see how the sky was blue from some angles, but the sun was still being blotted out by the storm. The closest I've experienced to that otherwise is the odd sort of half-light you experience during an eclipse.

And then we got to Lone Pine and it looked like fucking this when we woke up. lmao. One of the most beautiful places I've ever been. What the fuck.

[ellewritesx]

sugar, baby

Summary: He pays in cash. You pay in obedience. a sugardaddy!harry styles x reader au series

Warnings: sugardaddy arrangement, oral (f!receiving), overstimulation, kind of a corruption kink, power play, dom!Harry

A/N: i'm planning on making this a series, so excited for you guys to read it! btw i usually write in the present tense, but this more of a prologue to the series, so that's why this first part is in the past tense. if you've got any requests for the series, feel free to drop them in the ask box on my profile ;) have fun x

Word Count: 2,984

...

You weren't supposed to be here.

The bar was tucked into the corner of a luxury hotel, the kind where the floors didn't creak and the waiters never made eye contact. Everything shimmered. Gold fixtures, iridescent chandeliers, crystal glasses. In the air was an unsettling sort of quiet that felt expensive. You smoothed your hands over your thighs, trying to hide the fact that your dress was thrifted and your heels pinched at the sides. You didn't belong, and you knew it, but still, you were here.

You'd told yourself you were just curious. Just meeting with him. Just... hearing him out.

But then he walked in.

Harry.

He didn't look like someone who needed to pay for anything. Not sex, not attention, not anything at all. But he wasn't here for any of that, not really. He was here for control.

He looked like the kind of man you'd trust with your secrets, and the worst kind to actually give them to.

He found you immediately, his steps smooth and slow, like he had nowhere to be except in front of you. He wore a dark navy suit, shirt unbuttoned at the collar, tattoos peeking through his chest. His curls were slightly damp, like he'd come straight from the shower, and he smelled expensive: clean, musky, sharp. His eyes dragged over you in a way that wasn't quite polite, but wasn't necessarily crude either. It was... calculating. A man who liked knowing what was his, and it looked like you were going to be his next victim.

He slid into the booth across from you, leaning one arm on the table, and didn't speak for a long moment, just taking you in.

Then, finally, he spoke. ''You're prettier than in your photo.'' His voice was deep, heavy with power and influence.

Your cheeks heated, the words surprisingly genuine from his lips, but there was no warmth. Like he was stating a mere fact rather than actually complimenting you. You swallowed. ''Thank you.''

''You nervous?'' he asked.

You nodded. There was no point in lying. You knew he could read your body language well.

''Good,'' he said. ''You should be.''

He ordered you a drink without asking what you wanted. You didn't argue. When it arrived, you took a sip. Burnt sugar and something bitter settled hot in your throat.

''So,'' he said, eyes flicking over you like he was taking inventory. ''You know why you're here.''

You nodded again. ''I do.''

''You've read the terms?''

''I have.''

''No kissing in public. No relationships. You're mine while you're with me. No one else. And I own everything I give you. You leave? You give it all back.''

You licked your lips. ''I understand.''

He leaned in slightly. ''Understand what?'' he prompted.

You blinked. ''I understand I'm yours when I'm with you.''

He smiled.

It wasn't a sweet smile.

The contract was tucked into a leather folder. It wasn't long. Two pages, most of it simple language, with a few bolded phrases that made your stomach twist. Sexual availability. Physical submission. Discretion required. At the bottom of the last page was a little blank box, awaiting your signature.

Before you could pick up the pen, his hand landed on your wrist. Gentle, but firm.

''Let's talk about your limits first,'' he said. ''Your rules. Tell me what you won't do.''

Your breath caught. You'd read stories like this. You'd watched the porn. But sitting here, across from a man who had all the power, it felt different. It felt real. You didn't know how to handle it, how to respond to a question that intimate.

''I, um... No blood. No sharing. Nothing… painful.''

He tilted his head, the corner of his mouth curling upwards just slightly. ''Define painful.''

''I don't know, like… hitting. Or degrading. I don't want to be called names. I take offense to that.''

He chuckled softly at your fieriness, his fingers trailing lightly down your forearm, just a touch, but it made your skin break out in chills.

''But you'll take orders?''

You nodded.

''You'll let me use toys on you?''

''Yes.''

''Let me tie you up?''

''…yes.''

His voice lowered. ''You'll beg?''

You hesitated, breath catching. ''…yes.''

''Good girl.''

Your thighs pressed together under the table, the praise hitting you deep in your belly. Shame curled around the heat there, but you didn't pull away.

''You'll have a safe word,'' he said, like it was the most casual topic to be discussed over a bar table. ''You say it once, I stop everything. You say it twice, I take you home. That clear?''

You nodded again, too fast. ''Yes.''

''Pick your word.''

Your brain scrambled. ''Um… red?''

He quirked a brow. It told him all he needed to know; you were very, very new at this. He almost smiled at that. He couldn't wait to teach you, to take you apart and put you back together to ruin you for every other man you'd ever meet.

He handed you the pen. Your fingers trembled as you signed. He flipped the folder closed without looking at it again. Like it was done now. You belonged to him.

...

The ride to his penthouse was quiet. He didn't touch you. He didn't even speak. He just scrolled through his phone, legs wide in the backseat of the sleek car, occasionally glancing at you like he was already imagining what he'd do to you when you got to his place.

You kept your hands in your lap, your thighs clenched, trying to act like you weren't already soaked.

You hadn't gone looking for this kind of job, it found you. A friend of a friend, a girl who had worked one discreet night and came back with rent paid six months in advance and a vacant stare that spoke of something darker than just money.

She'd never given you a name, only a phone number and a whispered ''a friend of my guy is looking''. Looking. That's all she told you. And maybe that should've been enough to walk away. But curiosity has sharp teeth. And money, even sharper.

You'd stared at the number for three days before finally texting it.

You'd gotten a second notice for your overdue rent that month. You were broke. Tuition was bleeding you dry, your electricity and gas bills were stacking up, and your job at the cafe barely covered groceries. So after a long, wine-heavy night and one unpaid phone bill too many, you'd sent a message: Hi. I was given your number by a friend. I was told you're looking?

The reply had come within the hour. Polite, direct, and unsettlingly composed. Yes. I offer a paid sexual arrangement. Exclusive. Intimate. You'll be compensated generously for your time, discretion, and obedience. If that interests you, we'll continue.

You'd have sworn you could almost hear his calm, grounded voice through the words on your screen. Like he had already you pegged as the type to give in.

You'd texted for a few days. He'd asked questions, not the ones you'd expected, like your measurements or your preferences, but things like, How do you respond to authority? Are you good at keeping secrets? What are you looking to get out of this arrangement? It had felt very formal, almost like a job interview.

You'd asked him questions too, though far fewer. Mostly, you'd tried to figure out if this man who texted like a lawyer and spoke like a therapist was actually offering what he claimed, if he wasn't just wasting your time for fun.

He'd sent a photo of himself per your request (you wanted to know if he was at least attractive, could anyone blame you?). It was a mirror selfie, shirtless, grey sweatpants riding low, tattoos on show and his deep V-line peeking out promisingly above his waistband. It wasn't sleazy. It was deliberate. Classy, even.

You'd stared at it for way too long.

You had sent one back. Nothing too revealing, just a casual, slightly provocative photo of you in your favorite little black dress. He hadn't commented on your body. Instead, he'd replied with, You'll do nicely. When can we meet to discuss terms?

That was the moment something had shifted in you. You'd been hesitant, cautious, ready to back out at any moment. But that text, cold, possessive, confident... it made something spark deep in you.

Your love life was a ghost town, your sex life practically non-existent. No one had made you feel desirable or wanted in months, let alone claimed. And there was something dangerously appealing about this beautiful stranger who didn't beg, didn't chase, just chose you. And suddenly, all you could think was: Fuck it.

...

His building had a private elevator. No doorman. No check-in. Just a sleek black keycard and the quiet hum of wealth.

The penthouse was stunning. Floor-to-ceiling windows, cold marble floors, warm lighting that made everything glow. You didn't get time to look around. As soon as the door shut behind you, his voice dropped into a calm command.

''Strip.''

You froze. ''Here? Now?''

He tilted his head. ''That's what you signed up for, isn't it?''

Your face burned as you just nodded, your hands reaching behind you to fumble with the zipper at the top of your spine. It was stubborn, just out of reach, and you twisted awkwardly, tugging, struggling in silence.

You could feel his eyes on you, the weight of them making your skin prickle and crawl. He huffed out a soft laugh, and then you heard his heavy, unhurried footsteps approach from behind until he was so close you could feel the heat radiating off his chest.

His ring-adorned fingers, slow and sure, brushed your hand away. ''Let me,'' he murmured, so soft it barely kissed your ear.

The zipper slid down with one slow, long tug, the sound slicing through the silence like a sigh. You shivered as cool air licked across the newly exposed skin of your back. His palm ghosted up your spine, not quite touching, hovering. Teasing. His breath was warm when he leaned in, and his mouth met your shoulder with a kiss that felt far too gentle for a man who'd promised to ruin you.

''Good girl,'' he whispered, lips grazing your skin, voice molten. ''Didn't think you'd need help getting naked for me. You're cute.''

Your lungs forgot how to take in air. The dress hangs loose now, your hand instinctively coming up to keep the fabric pressed to your chest before it slid further down.

He didn't touch it. Just waited. Lingered behind you like a storm on the edge of breaking, letting the anticipation sink into your bones.

''Go on, then,'' he murmured in your ear, standing tall again. ''Show me what I paid for.''

You hesitantly let your dress drop to the floor, standing there in just your bra and panties.

He stepped closer, his eyes dragging over your body like a slow stroke. He didn't touch. He didn't speak.

The first thing he did was unhook your bra. Slowly. Like he was unwrapping something fragile. It slid off your shoulders and pooled on the floor between you, his eyes tracking the motion with a hunger that made your knees weak. His hand came up, broad, warm, heavily ringed, and cupped one breast, thumb brushing over your nipple until it stiffened under his touch.

You gasped, already on edge, your cunt already throbbing.

''You're a sensitive little thing, aren't you?'' he said, voice calm. Observational. ''Might be fun to toy with you just a little.''

Then his hand dropped to your waist.

''Come on, sweetheart. Be good for me. On the bed.''

The bed was massive. All black linens, plush and soft, and you sank into it as you crawled across. You heard the rustle of his suit jacket being slipped off, the clink of a belt being undone. But you didn't dare look back at him. Not until he gave you permission.

You stayed there, on your hands and knees, waiting.

He spoke up from behind you, his voice thick with authority. ''On your back. Legs open.''

Your body obeyed before your brain caught up. You spread your thighs wide, baring yourself completely. You were already wet, embarrassingly so. The air hit your soaked folds and made you shiver, your nipples pebbling under the warm light.

He walked to the edge of the bed and just looked at you. Silent. Intense. Like he was committing this exact moment to memory.

''Beautiful,'' he said softly. ''So fuckin' beautiful like this. Spread out for me, already dripping.''

You whimpered as he knelt between your legs, rings cold against your thighs as he pushed them wider, thumbs parting your folds.

Then he spit.

Right on your pussy.

The slick warmth landed on your clit and made you jolt. He rubbed it in with two fingers, slow circles that had your toes curling instantly.

''Gotta loosen you up,'' he muttered. ''Gotta make you nice and dumb before I fuck you. Can't have my sugar baby thinking too much, can I?''

You didn't have time to answer before he slipped one thick finger inside. It made you clench instinctively, your hips arching up, a moan breaking from your throat.

''Fuck, you're tight,'' he groaned. ''All this for me?''

You nodded, helpless. ''Yes, all for you.''

His grin turned wicked. ''Good girl.''

He added a second finger without warning.

You gasped, hips twitching, overwhelmed by the stretch. He curled them deep, hitting a spot that made your back arch off the bed, your hands clutching at the sheets.

''There it is,'' he said, almost smug. ''There's that little spot. Gonna work it until you cry for me.''

And he did.

He kept those fingers buried deep, thrusting them slow but firm, curling just right. His thumb pressed to your clit, rubbing circles, just enough pressure to make you squirm, not enough to give you what you needed and craved so badly.

Your moans turned into whines. Pleading sounds.

He didn't stop.

''Say it,'' he murmured. ''Tell me whose pussy this is.''

''Yours,'' you gasped, barely able to speak. ''Yours, Harry, please—''

''Say it like you fuckin' mean it.''

''Yours! It's yours, Harry, please, fuck, please let me come—”

He leaned in, breath hot against your neck. ''You'll come when I say so. Not a second before.''

You sobbed, your body trembling with the need to let go. His fingers never stopped. They fucked up into you mercilessly, slick and loud and obscene. Your whole body was buzzing, flushed and twitching under him.

And then suddenly he pulled out.

You whined at the loss, blinking up at him in shock, but before you could protest, he grabbed your thighs and buried his face between them.

The first lick was broad and slow, his tongue flat, dragging from your entrance up to your clit. You cried out, thighs jerking, but he held you down. His arms hooked under your thighs, keeping you pinned open as he devoured you like a man starved.

He licked and sucked and groaned into your pussy, like the taste of you was everything he'd ever wanted.

''So fuckin' sweet,'' he murmured, lips brushing your clit. ''Y'taste sweet as fuckin' sugar, baby.''

The way he said that line is something that would stay with you later, something you'd hold onto for months to come. When you were alone in bed, when you were trying not to touch yourself, when you were trying to remember that this was just an arrangement. Just money. It wasn't supposed to feel like this.

But God, it felt like something already.

Your legs were shaking. Your body was soaked. He sucked on your clit just right, tongue flicking in quick patterns, your hips bucking helplessly against his face.

''Please, please, Harry, please, need to come—'' you babbled.

He pulled back just far enough to growl, ''Then fuckin' come. Come for me, sugar.''

And you did.

Your orgasm hit you like a freight train. You screamed, legs locking around his head, your pussy clenching wildly. You couldn't breathe, couldn't think, mind numbed by the white-hot, pulsing pleasure ripping through you in waves.

But he didn't stop.

Even as your body convulsed, even as you sobbed from the intensity, he kept going. Licking you through it, into the next one, tongue relentless on your swollen clit until you were thrashing under him, hands pushing at his head weakly.

''Harry, please, it's too much—''

He lifted his head sharply. ''You'll come again. You'll come until I'm satisfied,'' he barked out, his intense gaze locked onto you.

And then he dove back in.

Your second orgasm was quicker, rougher, more painful in its sweetness. You sobbed through it, thighs twitching, whole body slick with sweat. Your vision blurred, pleasure blinding and brutal.

When you came again, you screamed.

Tears rolled down your cheeks, your pussy clenching hard around nothing as your whole body shook with overstimulation. Your clit throbbed, too sensitive, too much... but he didn't stop until you were begging.

''Red, Harry, please''

That's what finally made him stop.

He pulled back, his lips wet with your slick, face flushed. He looked like a man who'd just eaten dessert and wanted another course.

He crawled up over your body, pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

''You did so good, baby,'' he whispered, peppering kisses to your shoulder. ''So obedient.''

You couldn't speak. Couldn't even think. The muscles in your thighs were still twitching, your chest rising and falling in sharp, shallow breaths.

''I'm gonna train you so well,'' he murmured against your mouth. ''You'll be begging to be used. Crying if I don't touch you.''

Your eyes fluttered closed, your brain melting into the sheets.

He kissed your temple. ''And this?'' he whispered lowly in your ear like it was a secret.

He smirked.

''This was nothing.''

...

thank you so much for reading! i appreciate any and all support so remember to like, comment and reblog. requests are open! 💕

[itsnesss]

would you ever do a kimi antonelli x famous actor movie star reader! who is at the met gala and he is just like in love with her outfit and is complimenting her so much or something like that? even maybe when they do vogue grwms??

𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬 | kimi antonelli × fem!reader

summary | you attend the met gala looking like a goddess, and kimi can't take his eyes off you

warnings | famous!reader, fluff, mild romantic tension, flirting, public attention / media speculation

word count | 0.9 k

🖇 more ka12 🖇 f1 masterlist

The hotel room smells like fresh roses and expensive makeup. You’re seated in front of the lit-up mirror while your stylist finishes the final touches on your hair.

Your lips, painted a deep wine red, curl into a small smile when the Vogue assistant asks if you're ready to film the GRWM for their YouTube channel.

"Been ready since they said 'Met Gala'," you reply with a wink, adjusting your silk robe as the camera crew sets up.

This isn’t your first red carpet, but it feels like the most special one. This year, you’re not just attending, you’re one of the main attractions. Your movie is topping the charts, your name is everywhere: on posters, on blogs, in whispers behind velvet ropes.

And apparently, in the eyes of a certain Italian racing driver.

"We’re rolling in 3, 2..." the director says, and you let out a soft laugh.

The recording begins, and you talk about your dress, a custom Schiaparelli design, deep black with hand-stitched golden details. The sculpted corset gives off armor vibes, while the tulle skirt floats like smoke around your legs. You talk about the inspiration: constellations, baroque art, the kind of goddess who gets dressed to conquer the sky.

You don’t say it aloud, but you're hoping someone out there notices all the details you poured your heart into.

That “someone” shows up two hours later.

The Met Gala is already underway when your car pulls up to the Met steps. The second the door opens, camera flashes explode around you and the crowd screams like a wave crashing over your ears.

"You’ve got this," you whisper to yourself as you adjust your dress and your perfectly practiced expression.

You walk the carpet, you pose, you smile. Everything is routine… until you see him.

Kimi Antonelli. The breakout Formula 1 star. Dressed in a perfectly tailored tux, elegant and effortlessly youthful. He shouldn't be looking at you. But he is. Like you're the only person on that carpet.

As you approach, someone from the event staff tries to guide you away, but Kimi steps forward.

"Can I...?" he asks, his smile shy as he offers his arm.

Your laugh is more genuine than anything you've done tonight.

"You're going to escort me, racer boy?"

"Only if you’ll let me say you look like..." he pauses, glancing at you from head to toe, a bit dazed, "...like a piece of art. Literally. I think time stopped for a second."

Your cheeks heat up slightly. No one’s ever said it quite like that, so direct, so honest.

"That’s a pretty poetic line for someone who drives at 300 km/h," you reply, looping your arm through his. "Are you always this charming?"

Kimi chuckles, soft and genuine.

"Only when someone takes my breath away. And you... you did that the moment you walked in."

You walk beside Kimi as the flashes continue nonstop. Every step with him on your arm becomes a moment worthy of a magazine cover. The cameras aren’t just capturing your dress, they’re capturing the way he looks at you: unapologetically, fully present, as if the rest of the world simply disappeared.

"Did you know I was coming tonight?" you ask under your breath, still smiling for the Vogue Italia photographer.

"They invited me about a month ago," he replies. "But I didn’t know you’d be here. If I had, I would've dressed better."

"Better than this?" you glance at him briefly, taking in his look. "You're flawless."

He smiles, but glances down for a moment, slightly shy. So different from the actors you usually hang around. Younger, yes but also more transparent. Like he’s not trying to impress you… but somehow still doing it.

That’s when an E! News reporter appears with a mic and an excited grin.

"The two of you together! This is unexpected!" she exclaims. "Can we steal a second of your time for the fans?"

You nod politely, and Kimi though a little surprised stays right beside you. The questions are light. They ask about your dress, your movie, your prep for the night. But when the reporter turns to him:

"And you, Kimi? Are you here with our star tonight, or was this a coincidence?"

He doesn’t even hesitate.

"If it was a coincidence, it’s the best one I’ve ever had."

The reporter laughs, you laugh too. But there’s a quiet flutter deep in your chest.

"So drivers don’t just go fast they think fast too?" you tease.

"Only when they’re in danger," he says. "Or when they’ve got a goddess on their arm."

The interview ends with light laughs, but you're not the only one who noticed the exchange. As you turn toward the entrance, you spot a few people whispering. Some fans filming with their phones. The internet is probably eating this up already.

"You did that on purpose?" you ask Kimi, still holding onto his arm.

"Did what?"

"That line. Letting everyone think we’re together."

He gives a small shrug, but his eyes are dead serious.

"I didn’t plan it. But... if the world wants to believe it, I don’t mind."

The silence that follows feels warm. Unexpected.

And then, the doors to the Met close behind you. Classical music spills across marble floors, and golden light gleams off ancient sculptures. Everything glows, but nothing glows quite like the smile he gives you when he leans in and whispers:

"Can I stay with you tonight?"

Your heart skips.

"The whole gala?"

"The whole life, if you let me."

[dollzites]

⏦ﾟ♡︎ YOUR HONEYMOON WITH GDRAGON

୨ৎ pairing: husband!jiyong x fem reader

୨ৎ genre: fluff! with mild sex talk

୨ৎ from myeong: wahhhhh! hello! so happy to take this request especially for my precious jiyong ): I hope I’m able to do well enough and you enjoy! x

with jiyong.. it’ll have to be a super extravagant trip! even if you don’t want it to be that expensive or crazy he’ll do everything that he can to make it the most romantic getaway you’ve ever been on.

if it’s somewhere with a beach? absolutely adores it because he can see you in such pretty swimsuits. no matter what negative thought you have about your body, he’s there to praise you and make sure that you feel your greatest and most beautiful.

jiyong will enjoy building sandcastles with you or at least try his best to attempt one and will either take so many photos of the you, the both of you, or a cute video of you and him building it together.

the gentleman he is he’ll ask if he can throw you in the water and once he gets the answer he wanted so badly, you’re picked up in an instant and thrown into the water but jiyong quickly checks on you to make sure he wasn’t too rough and holds you close against his warmer body pressing gentle kisses all over your face and down your neck. (he loves that)

if it’s a beautiful city? will take you shopping and spends so much money on you. don’t feel bad about it because he married you!! his money is your money and he will continue to spoil you so much.

“baby? I seen you looking at this dress and bought it while you were in the fitting room. can we go back there and try this one on, hm? I’ll be good.”

it’s so hard for him to behave but with your stern looks he acts scared to make you laugh and puts on his best behavior even if he wants so badly to take you back to the hotel and make love. yes I said make love because that’s what jiyong will say.

steals your phone to take pretty pictures of you to post and show your friends or family. he’ll then take plenty of pictures with his phone and stare at them for a few minutes before giving his attention to you.

“how’d I get so lucky? you’re so breathtaking.”

if it’s a tropical island? you’ll spend hours on the beach or he’ll take you to the aquarium! one of the largest in the city and hell of course buy you so much at the gift shop to remember this day.

it’ll be hard for him to wait for sex but he wants you to know and understand that isn’t the most important to him especially if he knows you’re super excited to leave the hotel and explore! so.. if anything he’ll do his best to wait for that night. what you want is far more important to him.

that night? well you’re in for a pretty long night with him. he’ll want to go for several rounds with a few breaks in between. each break he takes with you is a new special memory. he loves to hold you close to him and talk about all sorts of topics.

“wanna go another round? maybe this time in the shower or bath? that sounds so sexy.. I don’t know what it is about it. how does it sound to you baby?”

he’ll wake you up with breakfast in bed and after? prepare for morning sex and it’ll be hard to say no to him especially knowing he’s now your husband. cooking for you so early and going out of his way to make everything so perfect? yeah you need him.

“I can’t wait for you to get pregnant. is that okay to say? I just can’t wait. I know we’ve talked about it before but to see you pregnant with my baby? it’s going to be something so special and exciting.”

jiyong will try all sorts of dishes and desserts with you even if he doesn’t think it sounds good. the best part about the honeymoon is bonding and sharing memories together. him gagging over something he really didn’t like was a great memory.

“look it’s a stray cat! should we bring it home?”

“please? can we just bring it home! looks so cute.”

that’s when it’s time to drag jiyong away from the stray cat because if not? you’ll end up bringing it back home with you and hours later? he’s asking about the stray cat and if it’s doing okay. awww

before the end of your honeymoon he pulls you into his lap and gets emotional about how lucky he is to have you as his wife and how beautiful this honeymoon has been. he’s the best husband you could ever ask for. romantic, sweet, caring, so supportive and one of the most handsome ever.

[bunny-jpeg]

trappin' (price's version)

capt. john price

cw: smut/pwp, mafia au, baby trapping & pregnancy, dumb!reader, mafia don!price, rich!price, burly & hairy!price, tattoos, age gap (20s/40s)

bunny says: reblogs & comments are always appreciated! i have a few ideas in my head about maybe a simon version or a konig version! (please leave your suggestions!!!)

this was going to be so painfully easy. when you saw which shelf the older man ordered from, you saw dollar signs in your eyes. so with the front zipper of your dress pulled down a little to show off the 'goods', you went over to him at the bar.

you were flirty and sweet. your hand on his bicep, you didn't realize the toned muscles of his arms. oh, he was more than just a rich older man.

"well, aren't you just a sweet thing." he rubbed the top of your head. he said his name, "john price, love." like you should've known it. so you simply nodded when he told you it, and you gave your own name.

"how about we get out of here?" you asked with a cute smile, "i'm not really the best at bars, sadly." then dropped the smile into a small pout.

he hung over you like a shadow as he cupped your face, "aw, someone scared?"

you nodded, giving him the most innocent look, "can i go home with you tonight, mister price?" you saw his expression soften at the question. hook, line & sinker.

you had poked holes in the condom. happy to hand it over under the guise of you needing to 'protect' yourself. as if it didn't look like a strainer with all the holes in it.

price watched you get undressed slowly. he eyed you with a predator's gaze as he undid his tie and took off the jacket of his suit. price looked and smelled expensive, it would be perfect little paycheck. your thoughts were filled with stacks of sterling pounds, that you didn't even catch that price noticed the holes in the condom and chuckled.

silly girl, he thought. he knew exactly what you were doing. you weren't the first person to try and squeeze money out of him via a little price brat. but price got hard at the idea of such a gorgeous, conniving woman would fail so beautifully.

he did need a wife after all, and the ones the family were trying to pair him with were simply so boring. you, on the other hand, were a little firecracker who knew what she wanted. but as he pressed you into the bed, his lips on the back of your neck as he rubbed his cock up against his ass. he knew that he needed a ring on you fast.

"mmm, that feels good." he said, "see how hard ya made me, love?"

you'd do just fine as mrs. price. don't worry your little head though, you weren't going to get involved with the family business. just make sure that you make price lunch before he heads to the office and tuck the kids into bed before he comes home.

your stomach did somersaults when you felt the pressure of his tattooed hand against your throat. you saw all of his tattoos on his hairy body when he undressed. you had no idea what they represented, while the one of the dagger was a little more obvious (not to you), even the "gentler" ones, like the flag of his hometown on his shoulder or 141 on his collarbone painted a grim story of price's past.

you should've not poked those holes in that condom. silly girl.

he pushed you deep into the pillows of his hotel room. he had you bent at an awkward angle and polluted all of your space. leaving you little room to breathe as he sank his cock into your waiting hole.

price was a bad man, you should've ran when you had the chance. because when he got his cock wet in you, he felt a sense of euphoria that he never had with any other slag he had been with. you were different, it was like the heavens had opened and given him a gift.

a pretty young thing with a need to be bred.

oh yeah, he was keeping you. there were no questions asked. one hand on your throat, the other on your hip as he thrusted into you. he knew, he knew right then that you weren't getting too far after tonight. maybe he'd let you slip out think you got what you wanted, but that was all just to add a little fun to your game.

thinking that you were the top dog in this, but you were just a scrappy little thing. nothing like the pitbull that price was. he didn't manage an entire mafia family without getting a little... tough. and you may go back to your crummy little flat and wait anxiously for the pregnancy test to come back positive.

but come the end of tomorrow, he'd already know everything he needed to know about you. from where you lived and went to school to how many moles were on your back. hell, even if you were ovulating to begin with.

he pressed your head further into the bed and thrusted into you. your ass shook with each heavy stroke of his cock inside of you. and don't worry, if it doesn't take this time. there's always next time, and the time after, and the time after that.

ah, you silly little thing. this wasn't a one night stand. this was price prepping you for being his wife. you thought you were getting away with one kid? one kid in his world is rookie numbers, you'll be having your hands full for a good while.

he continued to rut into you, pulling orgasm after orgasm out of you. with each one you became some soft for him, you harsh moans because soft little mewls as each orgasm hit.

"such a good girl. aren't i lucky to have found ya." he got both hands on his hips and he battered your womb with his impressive size. he was big and hairy all over, covered in tattoos and an accent that melted your brain.

you fit him like a glove, it was a sign you two were meant to be together! he was still fucking you with the stamina of someone closer to your age, meanwhile you were laid out under him with your eyes barely open. poor girl's gone and got her brains fucked out for the night.

that was alright, meant that price could dump a few loads into you before you came to again. he'd of course never hurt you, not in that way. but you were the temptress that led him back to his room, he was just reaping his reward.

he panted against your ear, the filth in his words made your pussy clench around his aching cock. all it took was two little cells to mix together and you'd be a proper mama.

don't worry, price hasn't ruined all of his swimmers over the years.

with a few more thrusts, price found heaven. he shot his seed into your pussy. spat it right up against your womb, a promise of what was to come.

"john." you said with a loose tongue.

"didn't finish yet." he lied, "almost there. you just lie there for me, alright? i'll take good care of ya, baby girl."

he didn't even bother to pull out as he got you on your back. he wanted to see that blissed out expression while he put your knees to your ears and your puffy, wet cunt on display.

a proper mating press for the silly little girl who thought she was going to pull the rug out from under mister jonathan price.

-

you rubbed your lower back and huffed. you were only in your fifth month, but the baby was expected to be rather big. you couldn't complain only a fool would climb the mountain that was john price.

one of the most dangerous men in london.

what started out as a ploy to get enough money to pay for university ended with you dropping out to be price's full-time housewife. with the rock, the house and the baby to prove it. this was your second pregnancy in three years, with your daughter happily sitting in her high chair. her father sitting by her, keeping her busy while you cooked.

one of his tattooed fingers pointed to the pictures in the children's book he had open for her. he was determined to make sure that she could read a little bit before she went off to school in another two years.

"see that's a cow, baby girl." he said, "like the ones we see when we go drivin'." he was very attentive for a man who had snuffed the life out of people with his bare hands.

but he'd never hard a hair on you, your daughter or your future son's heads. he could barely be rough with you during sex nowadays!

it was summertime once more, the heat of july rolled through the old house you called him. you had kept the dress that caused this marriage and family, but with the mama chub on your hips you weren't fitting into it again anytime soon.

but price didn't mind, a good mother like you shouldn't be showing off what is his anyway. <3

[rafes-slut]

can you write something where reader and rafe fuck in a circle bed with a mirror on the ceiling? 🙏🏻

Mirror

Warnings: Explicit smut, heavy dirty talk, praise/degradation, mirror play, missionary, rough sex, possessiveness, mild choking, Rafe being absolutely filthy. 18+ ONLY.

The second you stepped into the hotel suite, Rafe’s hand was already on your waist, fingers digging in like he owned you. The room was luxurious—floor-to-ceiling windows, dim lighting, and at the center of it all, a massive circular bed covered in expensive silk sheets. But what caught your attention most was the mirror on the ceiling, perfectly placed above the bed.

Rafe saw the way your gaze flickered up to it, and his lips curled into a smirk. “Yeah?” His voice was low, teasing. His hand slid from your waist to your ass, gripping it possessively before pulling you back against him. “Knew you’d like that.”

He leaned in, breath hot against your ear, his other hand coming up to wrap loosely around your throat. “Gonna look at me while I ruin you.”

You shivered as his fingers tightened for just a second before letting go, pushing you forward until your knees hit the edge of the bed.

“Get up there,” he ordered, voice dark, dripping with intent.

You did as he said, crawling onto the silk sheets, anticipation buzzing through your veins. He was right behind you, climbing onto the bed with slow, deliberate movements, like a predator toying with its prey. He pushed you onto your back and settled between your legs, gripping your thighs to pull you down until your ass was right on the edge of the bed.

His gaze was fixed on you, but he tilted his head up slightly, eyes flickering to the mirror above. A slow, satisfied grin spread across his face.

“Look at that,” he murmured, one hand sliding down your body, fingers tracing along the waistband of your shorts before tugging them down. “You’re already soaking, aren’t you?”

You squirmed, but he grabbed your hips, keeping you still. His other hand trailed up to your jaw, fingers pressing into your skin as he turned your face toward the mirror.

“Keep your eyes up there,” he instructed, voice leaving no room for argument. “I want you to watch. Want you to see how pretty you look when you’re taking me.”

Your breath hitched as he leaned down, kissing a slow path down your stomach, his stubble scraping against your skin. His hands spread your thighs wider, and when his tongue flicked against your clit, your head tilted back with a moan.

A sharp slap landed on your inner thigh.

“Uh-uh,” he scolded, voice muffled against your heat. “What did I just say?”

You gasped, forcing your head back up, eyes locking onto the reflection above. The sight of him between your legs, his broad shoulders keeping you pinned down as he devoured you, made your stomach tighten.

Rafe chuckled against you. “That’s it, baby. Watch me.”

He worked you up until you were squirming, panting, your hands fisting the sheets. Just when you were teetering on the edge, he pulled back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, smirking when you whined in protest.

“Relax,” he cooed, crawling back up to hover over you. His fingers wrapped around his cock, giving it a few slow strokes before pressing the tip against your entrance. “You’re getting what you want.”

He pushed in slow, stretching you inch by inch, watching your reflection as your mouth fell open, eyes fluttering. His grip tightened on your jaw.

“Eyes up, sweetheart.”

You forced them open, looking back at the mirror just as he bottomed out. He groaned, his head dropping for a second before he lifted it again, blue eyes dark and full of something feral.

“Fuck, you look so good like this,” he murmured, voice rough. “All spread out for me. Taking me so fucking well.”

He pulled back and thrust in hard, making you jolt. The bed creaked under the force of his movements, and his hand found its way back to your throat, applying just enough pressure to make your head spin.

“See that?” he panted, his thrusts deep and relentless. “See how good you’re taking me?”

Your moans filled the room, mixing with the sound of skin slapping against skin. Rafe’s eyes never left the mirror, watching the way your body moved under him, the way your back arched, the way your fingers scrambled for something to hold onto.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his pace brutal. “You’re so fucking tight. So good for me. Always so good for me.”

He moved one hand down, pressing against your lower stomach, feeling himself inside you. The pressure made your eyes roll back, pleasure spiking through you.

“You feel that?” he asked, voice smug. “I’m so fucking deep, baby.”

You barely managed a nod, too lost in the feeling of him.

“Say it.”

You gasped, trying to form words. “Y-you’re so deep, Rafe.”

His hand wrapped around your throat again, tilting your chin up. “Good girl. Now keep looking at that pretty reflection while I make you come.”

His thrusts turned rougher, more desperate, his own breathing ragged. You felt yourself getting close, the tension in your body coiling tighter and tighter.

“Come on, baby,” he urged, voice strained. “Give it to me. Wanna see your pretty face when you come all over my cock.”

With one final snap of his hips, the pressure inside you snapped, pleasure crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your body shook beneath him, eyes locked onto the mirror as you watched yourself unravel.

Rafe groaned, his pace stuttering as he buried himself deep, spilling into you with a growl of your name. He stayed like that for a moment, chest heaving, before finally collapsing beside you, pulling you against him.

His lips brushed against your ear, voice lazy and satisfied. “Told you you’d like that view.”

[pretzelwrites]

THE COLONEL'S INSPECTION .

summary: after being apart from caleb for months, you and tara visit skyhaven for the summer solstice festival. he has… concerns about how you spent your time apart.

warnings: nsfw (18+, minors dni), dubcon/noncon, caleb is very controlling and a little mean in this, pet names (pipsqueak, silly girl, and 1 singular ‘gege’), fingering, virginity testing, smut with plot, lowkey badafabanatomy101, extreme jealousy, inappropriate use of evol, pre-confession caleb & mc, manhandling, orgasm denial if you squint. 

characters: caleb from love and deepspace (post-explosion with some edits), afab!mc reader, and tara. everyone is in their twenties.

wc: 2.9k

author’s note: soooo this is my first fic in like ten years… i hope you all like it! i took creative liberties for dramatic effect (i.e. mc’s grandma gifting caleb her antique dining table pre-explosion.) also, this was originally written in present tense before i switched it to past tense so if you notice any typos or grammatical errors…. that’s why rip. if i missed any warnings, please let me know!

* this will likely have a second and/or third part! 

visiting caleb happened less and less often. between your work with the hunter’s association, and his work as a colonel for the fleet, there was not much room in either of your schedules to meet up. that’s why whenever you had a few days of freedom, the two of you made sure to make the best of it. this time, luck was on your side. not only did you manage to get three days off of work because a big case you were working on concluded a month earlier than expected, but it also coincided with the summer solstice festival in skyhaven— and caleb said he would be free for most of your visit. what were the odds?

being freed up from the case meant tara could tag along with you, and you immediately invited her after asking caleb. he agreed to allow this with only one condition: she could not sleepover. it was a surprisingly rude request from the typically friendly and accommodating caleb, plus it was extremely inconvenient for tara. afterall, it was the only summer festival in skyhaven. most hotels would be booked up by now, and what was leftover would probably be low quality or expensive.

and your efforts to persuade him?

“i’m not changing my mind, pipsqueak.” he said dismissively although his tone was still cheerful. his rich violet eyes remained fixated on the new model plane he was assembling while he spoke into the phone, “this home is open to family, and family only.” even if you two weren’t technically family, you understood exactly what that meant— and no amount of pleading or batting your lashes would sway him. so, you begrudgingly told tara she’d have to find a place to crash for the entire trip. your friend, always the optimist, took it in stride and even seemed to enjoy flipping through the listings of premium hotels in the city.

“ooh! Y/N, look at this one! it’s got one of those infinity pools on the roof!” she’d exclaim while shoving her phone towards you over your desk of files. a holographic 3D model of the swanky hotel popped up from her screen. it was sleek and clean, mirroring the aesthetic that decorated most of skyhaven. you smiled and nodded in an attempt to feign the same level of excitement as her, but you found it hard to. 

for some reason, there was a growing sense of dread in the center of your chest. 

two days passed by quickly, with most of the time being spent trotting through the festival with tara and caleb— then finishing the night off at the bar with tara. caleb would say he couldn’t stay long, that he had something to tend to early in the morning, but that meant you two could enjoy yourselves without him. things were going smoothly… perhaps your worries were truly irrational afterall?

the first night, you and tara had gone a little overboard and were too drunk to end up anywhere other than the hard couch in her hotel room. the second night, you were invited out to dinner by tara’s favorite artist from the festival, you couldn’t possibly say no to her desperate pleas to tag along. that meant you had to cancel dinner with caleb twice, but you swore you’d make it up to him later. 

on the third day, you all decided to conclude your last festival visit with something sweet. the local shops were selling all sorts of solstice themed foods, and this particular parlor had brightly colored frozen yogurt with the cutest sun-shaped cookie bites topped off with iridescent sprinkles. you and tara couldn’t bare to pass it up, even though caleb seemed worn out by the constant activities. 

as you stood in line to order, he leaned down to whisper at a level only you could hear, “don’t spoil your appetite, pipsqueak.”  

that sounded like a threat.

you found a small table beside the window, and the three of you settled in. you sat beside tara, and caleb took the seat across from you. right away, the table was loud with lively conversation and laughter between bites of creamy sweetness. you all exchanged jokes and tidbits seamlessly, there was barely a second to breathe between the chatting. considering both tara and caleb were social butterflies, it was no surprise they got along well. 

somehow, the flow of conversation brought you to discuss each other's silly childhood habits. tara laughed at the way you’d steal his t-shirts from the dirty laundry to mop up any spilled juice and coffee, and caleb brought up how he would send you at least ten check-in texts every time you’d go out with your friends when you were teens.

tara’s eyes lit up and she nudged her knee against yours under the table. “oh, just like that guy leonardo! there must be something about you that brings out protectiveness from guys.” she turned to face caleb, “it makes sense that you’d do that since you two are close, but i told Y/N before that it would be so weird if leonardo wasn’t cute!” 

it was like the air had been sucked out of your lungs. even though you and leo were just friends, his feelings for you were hard to ignore, and you had gone on a few dates with him. you had told tara plenty of times that your ‘gege’ was protective, and wouldn’t be fond of the idea of you casually dating someone he’d never met. regardless of how old you both were, caleb was unable to shake this role. you blinked at tara, a silent plea for her to stop— be quiet, take it back, anything other than continue talking. 

she immediately caught on to the pleading look in your eye and attempted to backpedal. “i- i mean, not that it’s- hah- he’s not anything serious, of course. h-he’s a good coworker, is my point.” she laughed nervously, and you joined her in it. the conversation at the table carries on to a new topic, thankfully, and for a moment you thought you were in the clear… until you looked over to caleb. 

it was something only you, someone who had nearly a lifetime of experiencing caleb’s personality, would be able to detect. as he listened to tara’s ramblings about the exhibit of her favorite artist at the festival, the same one you two had drinks with prior, you immediately notice the way his smile fails to reach his eyes. in fact, his typically vibrant gaze seemed to have lost every fleck of color it had. he was merely going through the motions to keep up appearances.

the feeling of dread you had managed to shake off earlier returned tenfold, and the colorful dessert in your bowl suddenly became incredibly unappetizing. it melted into a puddle of sugary goop and soggy bits of shortbread as the sun disappeared under the horizon.

it was tara who first announced she would be turning in for the night. your heart fell further from your chest when you realized that meant being alone with caleb for the aforementioned dinner you promised him, and absolutely could not back out on. dinners with caleb were always a treat, but this time…

“it was good to see you, tara.” caleb’s smooth voice interrupted your train of thought. tara smiled widely and nodded, “it was nice to see you, too! you two have a goodnight!” she turned on her heels to walk in the opposite direction towards her hotel, while you and caleb headed back to his place. 

the trip back was full of what could only be described as bizarre small talk; retreading old ground, repeating details you’d already told him over the phone months ago, and answering questions that felt pointless to you. you wanted to shrug it off, to reason that surely the man you’d known nearly your entire life didn’t deserve to be treated so suspiciously, but this wasn’t meaningless small talk. he was fishing for information, attempting to piece together just what you were up to during your time apart. when the realization dawned on you, you suddenly became concerned about how every detail would be interpreted, and your responses shortened to a handful of words at most. 

you stepped inside of the familiarity of caleb’s home, letting out a satisfied sigh when the scent of him enveloped you like a warm blanket. “mmm, it’s always nice to come back to—” your words are cut off with a loud ‘click’, the sound of the door being locked behind you. 

“i already have dinner from last night prepared in the fridge, it just needs to be heated up.” caleb muttered while pulling off his heavy bomber jacket to toss onto the couch. the fact that this was likely the dinner you two were supposed to have the night before felt like yet another bad omen. “i- uh, great! i-i’ll set the table.” it was a habit you had picked up on in your youth. a dining table full of plates, even if empty, made you feel like your family was bigger than the one you’d found. you swallow down your anxiety and quickly trot to the kitchen, walking past the old table that used to be your grandmother’s. 

when you return, arms heavy with a stack of porcelain, caleb is standing by the table with his hands planted firmly on his hips. furrowed brows and underneath that, eyes downcast and unfocused. he appeared to be locked in deep thought.

“cal—?” 

“put the plates down and come here.” 

his tone was authoritative and flat—  the same tone he used when you were caught in a lie all those years ago. that persistent dread fully consumes you as you carefully place the stack of fragile plates onto the table and walk to his side. you looked to him expectantly, fists tightly squeezed shut, waiting to get scolded for your flakiness during the trip. in a flash, he pulled you flush against his body by your wrists, wedging you between his large build and the table. “a-ah! c-caleb, what the-”

“do you have any idea how fuckin’ rude you’ve been? how much restraint i’ve had to use lately?” his bionic arm, with all of its unnatural strength, takes control of your throat and holds your back firmly against his body. your frantic wiggling only makes the feeling worse, the metal causing red patches of friction on your throat. you have no choice but to stay still.

detecting your reluctant submission, he chuckled in bitter amusement. “ah, so pips hasn’t completely lost her mind…” caleb whispered, his warm breath skating down the side of your face. “cooperate and this will be over quickly.”  his human hand snaked under the hem of your dress, traveling up your skin and leaving a trail of heat in it’s wake. his fingertips gracing the frilly hem of your panties makes you squirm automatically, despite your efforts to stay still. 

he seemed to hesitate for a millisecond before his fingers roll over your mound. “h-hey!” you gasped, your entire body freezes in shock. caleb stroked over your pussy, the only thing between his touch and your skin being the thin lacey fabric of your underwear. his breath deepens as he traces over your folds, dipping a single fingertip down the center to trace over your covered clit. 

“you know, i didn’t pull strings on that case just to share our trip with someone else, right?” there wasn’t even enough time for you to be shocked by this revelation, caleb was moving quicker than your brain could comprehend. his hand trailed from your clothed heat up your body to cup your breast, rolling his palm over your nipple and then firmly squeezing the flesh. it was hard for him to control himself for longer than a few seconds, made abundantly clear by the way he alternated between roughness and tender touches on your hardening peaks.

“and after all i did, you have the nerve to skip out on dinner with me twice in a goddamn row…”

“caleb, y-you’re being-” your voice was trembling under the pressure of his robotic hand. it didn’t hurt, but it was rough and unrelenting. 

“and who exactly is leonardo? why didn’t you tell me about him when i called? just what did you do to make him think he could check on you like that, huh? it’s my job to protect you- or are you trying to replace me?” caleb’s questions are delivered in rapid fire succession, leaving no room for you to respond or plead your case. his robotic arm released your throat, giving you a chance to glimpse the dark blue and red ripples out of the corner of your eye. a heavy weight crashes onto your back, forcing you to lurch forward against the dining room table, your face crushed into the cold antique wood by his gravity evol. you squeal in protest, but all that does is make him press you down harder. 

he quickly hikes up your skirt once more until you can feel the cool air on your rear, which only solidifies how impossibly vulnerable you are in the moment. there’s another beat of hesitation, or admiration, from him before he pulls your panties to the side to fully reveal your pussy. caleb pressed his hand to your warmth, rubbing his knuckles over your folds slowly, like he’s trying to memorize the feeling. “c-caleb, please think about what you’re doing. t-this isn’t right!” you whisper in desperation, as if he’d listen.

“i know exactly what i’m doing. i’ve just never had to resort to this.” he murmurs disapprovingly. “i used to trust that you’d tell me everything, pipsqueak.”

“i have told you every- unff!” your eyes widen from the sudden intrusion.

“hush. i’ll be the judge of that.” caleb’s middle finger, long and thick, slowly pushes it’s way deeper into your heat until it’s fully sheathed inside. “we promised to never keep secrets from one another, remember?” you are rendered completely speechless as his digit explores your most tender area, a place no one but yourself had. sliding along your walls slowly, rotating, prodding. it’s not like he was trying to give you pleasure, but rather inspecting you. sensing your shock and confusion, caleb answers the unspoken question on your lips.

“i’m just making sure you aren’t doing anything you’ll regret... there’s no reason for you to fight this if you have nothing to hide.”

caleb slowly drew his finger out and then slid back in with a second digit. the extra girth made you flinch and teeter on your toes. he watched your legs tremble from the unfamiliar pressure, your pussy fluttering and tensing around his fingers reflected both your discomfort and inexperience. “tolerate it for just a little while longer,” he urged sternly. his fingers pumped as slowly as possible, stretching your walls carefully.

caleb’s touch inside of you felt so right— blissfully so, despite it all. it was like every inch of his finger was created for your cunt, every ridge hitting you just right and coaxing out more slick from your core. shameful pleasure began to build in your body within a few pumps, which didn’t help how pathetic you felt being subjected to caleb’s control so easily. just as you were beginning to enjoy this bizarre sensation, it ended. he let out an approving sigh and pulled his fingers out with a wet ‘pop.’ 

your body was still his. 

despite not being able to see caleb’s face, his relief was palpable. his gravity evol lifted off of your body, but you still weren’t able to move. a different weight was placed on your back to hold you against the table. when two hands are planted on either side of you, you realize that he had practically collapsed on top of you.

“silly girl,” his head leaned against the back of your’s, nuzzling his nose into the depths of your hair. the cold silver of his apple necklace slid against your warm skin, sending a tingle down your spine. “you caused all this distress for no reason… do you enjoy getting a rise out of me?” caleb chided, but his voice didn’t boast that biting edge from before. his eyes fluttered shut as he took in a deep breath of your scent, attempting to still his rapidly beating heart. 

slowly, reluctantly, caleb stood up to free you from his crushing hold. your panties and dress are put back in place with a gentle touch, and although you wanted to slap his hand away, your head was spinning far too much to properly retaliate. he then turned you around to face him, revealing your flushed cheeks– one redder than the other due to the sheer force he had used when slamming you against the table, yet he didn’t acknowledge it or even look slightly regretful. 

his bionic hand reached up to fix your hair, like he often did. the artificial fingers felt strangely cold on your scalp, and not at all reassuring when combined with the heated ache between your legs. just barely in your line of sight, you caught a glimpse of his throbbing member through his denim. a wet patch of precum had formed at the tip along his upper thigh, saturating the already dark fabric with his sin. the sight of it sends a rush of forbidden excitement through you, but you quickly avert your gaze to hide your budding desire. caleb returned your timid expression with a warm smile, this time it actually reached his eyes. 

“now, we can eat.”

[rosemariiaa]

~Off the Rails ( And into my head)~

𐙚- pairing: Paige x Azzi

𐙚- w/c: 5.6k

𐙚- rosie’s note: suprise + happy gameday! i was def supposed to be working on my stalker fic buttt this was too cute not to play around with, if u guys enjoy this one i’m happy to write another part <3, happy reading lovelies 💌

𐙚- themes: au, fluff, gay being gays

Azzi is pretty sure the city is trying to kill her.

Okay, maybe that’s a little dramatic, but between dodging aggressive taxi drivers, the sensory overload of Times Square, and her hotel room’s heating system making threatening noises at three in the morning, she’s convinced New York is testing her.

Which is fine. She likes a challenge (sometimes).

Her days are structured enough that she doesn’t have too much time to dwell on it. Wake up, drink expensive hotel coffee that tastes like disappointment, go to fittings, castings, brand meetings — smile, nod, pretend she isn’t internally cringing at people aggressively poking at the clothes on her body. It’s exhausting but manageable.

The castings are the worst part.

The first one seemed easy enough — a sleek downtown studio, all glass windows and marble floors. She felt okay at first, just another model in a sea of long legs and sharp cheekbones. But when it was her turn, the woman in charge — someone with wire-rimmed glasses and a voice like nails on glass — squinted at her like she wasn’t quite sure why Azzi was there at all.

“Smile,” the woman had said, and Azzi did.

“No,” she snapped, “not like that. Softer.”

Azzi tried again.

“No, softer. Relax your face.”

Azzi wasn’t sure how to relax her face when she suddenly felt like her whole body was being dissected under a microscope.

By the end, she walked out feeling like a mannequin someone had forgotten to put away properly.

“Don’t take it personally,” her agent had said over the phone. “They just want to see how you handle pressure.”

Right, Azzi thought bitterly, because nothing screams ‘grace under pressure’ like being told you’re smiling wrong.

She hated that it got to her — that her ex’s voice kept creeping into her head after things like that.

You’re too uptight, he’d say. You need to stop caring so much about what people think.

Like he wasn’t the one constantly picking at everything she did. Like he wasn’t the one who could ruin her whole day with a single passive-aggressive text.

She knew he was out of her life now — had been for months — but sometimes it still felt like she was waiting for the next thing to go wrong. Like if she let her guard down for too long, something bad was bound to happen.

Honestly, at this point, she wouldn’t mind if a woman chased her for a year or two.

Azzi immediately freezes at the thought.

Jesus Christ, you sound insane. Get it together.

(But also…she’s not wrong. It’s true.)

The only part of her routine that feels normal is the train.

For some reason, she’s taken to riding it instead of calling for a car like most models do. Maybe it’s because she doesn’t like feeling babied, or maybe it’s because she just enjoys the quiet anonymity of it. No cameras, no managers, no overly chatty PR people. Just her, her music, and a bunch of exhausted New Yorkers trying to get from point A to point B.

And then there’s her.

Tall. Athletic. Platinum blonde, but not in a fake way — it looks like it actually belongs to her, like she was born to be blindingly golden.

The first time Azzi sees her, she doesn’t think much of it. Just another stranger on the train, another person she’ll never see again.

The second time? Okay, weird coincidence.

The third?

Alright, what the hell is going on.

Azzi doesn’t mean to stare, but she’s a model — her job is literally to pay attention to details, to notice symmetry and proportion, and — oh god, is she actually justifying this to herself right now?

Still, she keeps catching herself analyzing the girl before she can stop it. The slight shift in her posture, the way she spreads her legs a little too wide like she’s claiming space (gay?), the loose sweatshirt hanging off her broad frame like she just threw it on without thinking.

And her face.

Azzi thought she was intimidating at first. The sharp jawline, the piercing blue eyes — classic I could beat you in a fight energy. But then she looked closer.

She wasn’t intimidating at all. If anything, she looked like an adorable golden retriever who was trying very hard to pretend she wasn’t.

The kind of girl who could probably bench press Azzi without breaking a sweat, but would also apologize profusely if she accidentally bumped into someone.

So, yeah. Weirdly interesting.

But Azzi isn’t a weirdo. She’s not about to obsess over some random subway stranger just because she happens to exist in her general vicinity every morning.

…Except the next day, she catches herself checking the train doors, waiting to see if she’ll walk in.

And she does.

Of course she does.

Azzi tells herself she’s just being observant. That’s all.

And then the blonde glances up, makes direct eye contact, and —

Smirks.

Not in a mean way. Not even in a particularly cocky way. Just this tiny, amused flicker of a smile. Like she knows something Azzi doesn’t.

Azzi immediately looks away. Get it together, Azzi, what is wrong with you.

The train stops. She doesn’t think — just moves, bolting out of her seat like she suddenly has somewhere incredibly important to be.

She does not look back.

Definitely not.

…Okay, maybe just a little.

—

Azzi tells herself she’s not thinking about her.

She’s not.

She’s thinking about work — about that weirdly aggressive casting director who kept telling her to “soften” her face, like Azzi’s somehow been walking around looking like an axe murderer this whole time.

She’s thinking about her schedule — her agent’s endless texts about last-minute fittings and branding meetings that always seem to run twenty minutes longer than anyone expects.

She’s thinking about dinner — the overpriced sushi place she keeps passing by but can’t quite convince herself to go into because eating alone at a fancy bar feels way too much like one of those sad girl in a movie moments.

She’s definitely not thinking about the blonde girl.

Except she kind of is.

Not on purpose! It’s just — her brain keeps circling back to her like a song stuck on repeat. Like a stray thread that Azzi can’t quite stop tugging at.

It’s just because she keeps showing up on the train, Azzi tells herself. That’s all.

New York’s massive, but the subway isn’t. People stick to patterns, routes, habits — it’s not that weird to see the same face a few times.

(But why is it always her face?)

It’s annoying, honestly — how the thought of her keeps creeping in when Azzi’s trying to focus.

Like this morning.

Azzi had been walking down 5th Avenue, mentally rehearsing her introduction for a big casting — something charming but casual — when she caught herself thinking, I bet the blonde girl’s never nervous before big things. I bet she just shows up and — boom — owns the whole room.

Or last night, when Azzi had tried watching a movie in her hotel room, only to completely zone out halfway through because she was too busy replaying that stupid smirk in her head.

What was that even about?

And God, it’s embarrassing — how her brain won’t let it go. She’s barely said two words to her! She doesn’t even know her name!

She’s just interesting, Azzi tells herself. That’s all.

And it’s true. She’s interesting the way a puzzle is — a bunch of pieces that shouldn’t really fit together, but somehow do.

Azzi hates that she notices things like that. Hates that she keeps wondering what her voice sounds like — if it’s sharp and dry like her smirk or if she’s secretly one of those people who laughs too loud without meaning to.

It’s just curiosity, Azzi thinks. Just passing time. It’s not a crush.

…Right?

—

Azzi’s morning is already off to a chaotic start.

She overslept (her phone alarm somehow managed to betray her), her hotel room’s shower took forever to heat up, and her only clean outfit is one of those weirdly fancy streetwear fits that somehow manages to look like she’s either trying way too hard or not trying at all.

So when she stumbles onto the train — hair still damp, blazer oversized enough to swallow her shoulders — she’s not exactly feeling her best.

And, of course, that’s the day the blonde girl’s already there.

Sitting in her usual spot, legs stretched out way too wide, one arm casually draped over the back of the seat like she’s been living on this train her whole life.

Azzi thinks about walking to the next car — just avoiding the whole situation altogether — but the doors are closing, and she’s already been spotted.

Too late now.

She sits across from her, tries to act normal. Looks down at her phone, pulls up Instagram like she’s definitely not thinking about the blonde girl sitting four feet away.

Except the blonde clears her throat, and Azzi glances up before she can stop herself.

“You again,” the blonde says, voice low and a little scratchy. Her mouth curls up in that familiar half-smirk. “‘M starting to think you’re following me.”

Azzi snorts — way louder than she means to — and immediately wants to disappear.

“Oh yeah,” she deadpans, “I moved to New York just to ride this train and stare at you like a creep.”

The blonde’s smile spreads wider. “Hey, you said it. Not me.”

Azzi rolls her eyes but can’t help the laugh that slips out. It’s too early for this. Too early for that smile and the way her blue eyes practically sparkle when she’s teasing.

The train jerks to a stop, and a new wave of people crowds in. One of them shuffles too close, nearly stepping on Azzi’s foot. She shifts, tucking her legs in a little.

“Here.”

Azzi looks up just in time to see the blonde motioning to the empty seat beside her — like it’s no big deal, like it’s just common sense.

“Oh,” Azzi says, too startled to play it cool. “Uh… thanks.”

She squeezes into the seat, awkwardly aware of how close their shoulders are now. The blonde smells like something fresh — clean laundry, maybe, with a hint of expensive cologne (Valentino?). It’s stupidly attractive.

Azzi stares straight ahead, willing her brain to stop overthinking.

“You always this quiet?” the blonde asks.

“Depends,” Azzi mutters. “You always this talkative to strangers?”

The blonde barks out a laugh — short and rough, like she wasn’t expecting it.

“Woww,” she drags out, still grinning. “Alright, cool. So we’re throwing insults now?”

Azzi shrugs. “Just calling it like I see it.”

The blonde hums, like she’s deciding whether or not to be offended. Then —

“Book club,” she says suddenly.

Azzi blinks. “…What?”

The blonde nods to the book tucked under Azzi’s arm — The Housemaid by Freida McFadden. “Didn’t take you for the book club type.”

“It’s actually just me, Azzi to be exact,” Azzi corrects, a little dry. “No club.”

The blonde’s head tilts like she’s intrigued. “Hmm. Pretty name.”

Azzi doesn’t register it right away — not until the blonde’s eyes flicker away like she hadn’t just casually called her pretty (well her name..but still!).

“Oh,” Azzi stammers. “Uh… thanks?”

The train starts to slow, and the blonde stands, tugging her bag over her shoulder. “See you tomorrow, pretty girl.”

Okay, now she called her pretty. Azzi freezes. Doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe, just sits there like an idiot while the blonde steps off the train and disappears behind the closing doors.

Pretty girl.

See you tomorrow, pretty girl.

Azzi’s face burns all the way back to her hotel.

Later that day, Azzi’s sprawled on her hotel bed, pillow half-smothering her face.

“This is stupid,” she mutters into the fabric. “I’m being stupid.”

Because — what is she even doing?

She’s barely spoken to this girl, first “conversation” and yet here she is — half-convinced she’s developing some kind of pathetic subway crush. It’s not like her — she’s never been one of those people who fixates on strangers like they’re characters in a rom-com.

But there’s something about her.

The way she carries herself — so casual, so comfortable in her own skin. The way she always looks so put-together, like her hair’s been freshly done and her sweatshirt just happens to fall perfectly over her frame.

And okay, fine — the way she called her pretty girl.

Azzi groans into the pillow.

You’re not in high school, you freak, she tells herself. Get it together.

But later, when she’s brushing her teeth, she catches herself mumbling, “How do you even ask someone out when you’ve barely had more than one conversation?”

And she doesn’t have an answer.

Azzi leans over the sink, toothbrush still hanging from her mouth, staring herself down in the mirror like her reflection might have answers.

“Okay,” she mutters around the foam, voice muffled. “Let’s think about this.”

She spits, rinses, and braces her hands on the counter.

Pros:

first: The blonde’s obviously into her. Right? You don’t just call someone pretty girl and not mean something by it.

second: She’s funny — annoyingly funny — in that teasing way that makes Azzi want to roll her eyes and smile at the same time.

third: She’s hot. Like, objectively hot. The kind of hot that makes you stupid, apparently, because Azzi can’t seem to stop thinking about her.

fourth: They take the same train. Built-in excuses to see her without seeming desperate.

fifth: She’s probably not a serial killer. (Azzi pauses — yeah, that one’s more hopeful thinking than fact. Moving on.)

Cons:

first: What if she’s not actually into her? What if pretty girl was just something she says to random strangers like it’s her thing? Some people are just effortlessly flirty like that. (God, imagine how embarrassing that would be.)

second: Even if she is interested, what if she’s straight? Straight girls are so naturally flirty. Or worse — what if she’s got a girlfriend? (Or a boyfriend? Or a situationship? Or some weird on-again-off-again ex who’s still lurking in her life?)

third: What if she’s just messing with her? Like… some kind of elaborate joke that Azzi doesn’t get because she’s new here and clearly out of her element.

fourth: What if they do go out, and it’s terrible? Awkward silences, forced small talk, maybe the blonde’s whole flirty-train-persona is just her best material and there’s nothing else underneath.

She groans and drags her hands down her face.

“This is so dumb,” she mutters to her reflection. “You’ve had, like… one conversation. Chill.”

But her brain doesn’t let it go. Because honestly?

The cons are all just hypothetical. Possible, but not certain.

The pros…

The pros feel real.

The blonde’s smile, the warmth in her voice, the way she’d leaned in just a little closer when she called Azzi pretty girl — none of that had felt fake.

And even if it’s just a harmless crush, even if this whole thing turns out to be nothing…

What if it’s not?

What if she’s funny and charming and sweet in that slightly annoying way? What if she’s someone Azzi could actually… like?

Azzi leans closer to the mirror, narrowing her eyes at herself like she’s trying to read her own mind.

“You’re being insane,” she says flatly.

And yet… she’s still thinking about it.

And tomorrow, she knows she’s going to be checking those train doors again.

—

Azzi wakes up to the faint glow of sunlight spilling through her window. For once, she doesn’t feel like her skull is being crushed by exhaustion. She reaches for her phone on the nightstand, squinting at the screen.

Two hours until the shoot.

Nice. Enough time to shower, get ready, and maybe even clean her disaster of a hotel room.

The shower’s warm and steady, and for a moment, Azzi stands there with her eyes closed, letting the heat loosen her muscles. Her thoughts wander — first to her shoot, then to her growing laundry pile, then… well, then to her.

The blonde.

Azzi doesn’t even know her name, yet here she is, fully thinking about her in the shower like some kind of weirdo. She groans and steps out, grabbing a towel and trying to push the image of that stupid smile out of her head.

She throws on a cropped long-sleeve top and matching Fenty sweats — perks of the brand deal — then tidies her room. By the time she’s packing her purse and slipping her phone inside, she’s feeling accomplished. Productive. Grounded.

And then she promptly ruins it all by walking straight into someone.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Azzi blurts, instinctively reaching out like she can somehow fix it.

The other girl’s gripping her forehead, wincing. “It’s okay,” she mutters, voice strained. It takes Azzi half a second to recognize it — that voice. Her stomach flips before she even looks up.

No way. No way is this happening right now.

Sure enough, when the blonde pulls her glasses off with a grimace, there she is — same platinum hair, same sharp jawline, same frustratingly charming smile… except this time, her eyes are squinted in pain.

Azzi freezes. Why does she look even hotter with glasses? Focus, Azzi. You just hurt her. Stop being weird.

The blonde blinks a few times like she’s still adjusting to the light, then — somehow — smiles.

“Oh, book club,” she says brightly, still pressing her fingers to her forehead. “You staying here too? What a coincidence.” Her grin widens like she’s genuinely delighted by this.

Azzi’s eyebrows furrow. Coincidence? What was so exciting about that?

Then she feels her face warm — her whole body warm, actually — and quickly nods. “Uh, yeah. Sorry, again. Are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” the blonde assures her, still smiling. “But…” She pauses, tilting her head. “I think you kinda owe me now.”

Azzi snorts before she can stop herself. “Yeah, right.”

The blonde’s face falls into an exaggerated pout. “Wow. Really? You’re just gonna assault me in public and not even try to cheer me up?”

“Oh my god,” Azzi laughs, shaking her head. “Fine. What do you want?”

The blonde taps her chin, like she’s seriously thinking about it.

“I don’t have all day, blondie,” Azzi warns, but she’s smiling now too.

The blonde lights up like that’s exactly what she was hoping for. “Sushi,” she announces. “I skipped breakfast and i’ve also been wanting to try that new fancy sushi bar up the street.”

Azzi sighs. “Fine. But my driver’s off today, so we might have to take the train.”

“No problem,” the blonde says easily. “You can drive my car.”

Azzi stops mid-step, turning to stare at her. “Wait… you have a car?”

“Yeah.” The blonde shrugs like it’s no big deal.

“Then why have you been taking the train?”

The blonde’s smile falters for a second, like she hadn’t expected the question. But then she shrugs again, casual as ever. “I like it.”

Weird, Azzi thinks, but she decides not to press. Instead, she just gives a skeptical look. “You seriously want a stranger to drive your car?”

“You’re not a stranger,” the blonde insists. “We’ve had — what — two conversations now?” She pauses, grinning. “Well, one and a half, I guess.”

Azzi huffs a laugh. “Yeah, sure. Real deep connection we’ve got here.”

“You did just give me a concussion,” the blonde points out. “I think you’re legally responsible for me now.”

“Oh my god.” Azzi rolls her eyes, fighting a smile.

“You know,” the blonde adds, eyes glinting. “I think you have to hold my hand while we walk, though.”

Azzi turns to her, unimpressed. “You don’t have two legs?”

“Well…” The blonde drags a hand dramatically down her face. “You did ruin my eyesight, I don’t wanna be hitting poles left and right..sooo…” She trails off, shrugging innocently.

Azzi can’t help it — she laughs again, quietly, and she hates that it makes the blonde’s smile widen like she’s just won something.

“Fine,” Azzi sighs. “Let’s go.”

She grabs the blonde’s hand, warm fingers wrapping easily around hers.

It’s supposed to be casual, practical — just an excuse to get her moving — but then the blonde’s fingers slide between hers, lacing together like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Azzi swears she feels her heartbeat stutter.

She tells herself she’s imagining things — that this girl is just the type to be annoyingly comfortable with casual touch. But then she feels the blonde shift a little closer, their arms brushing as they walk.

Azzi doesn’t say anything. She’s not even sure she wants to.

And maybe she’s imagining it, but she swears she can feel the blonde’s thumb trace over her knuckles — slow, deliberate — like she’s testing the waters.

Azzi bites the inside of her cheek, fighting a smile.

Yeah… she definitely has a crush.

—

Azzi never pictured herself like this — sitting in the driver’s seat of someone else’s car, navigating unfamiliar New York streets, her hands gripping the wheel a little tighter than necessary.

She glances at the blonde in the passenger seat —wait.., she reminds herself — but then realizes… no, she’s still not actually sure of her name.

They’d had two conversations — well, one and a half as the blonde stated — and Azzi still hadn’t asked. Not that it mattered. Except now it kinda did.

It’s quiet. Not uncomfortable exactly, but still… quiet.

Azzi turns her eyes back to the road, trying to focus. This whole situation feels surreal — like some bizarre fever dream. She didn’t move to New York thinking she’d end up driving a complete stranger to a sushi bar. She came here to focus on herself — her career — to hit reset after… everything.

“You’re a pretty good driver,” the blonde says suddenly, like she’s genuinely impressed.

Azzi laughs under her breath. “I think you’re just saying that ‘cause you’re scared for your life.”

The blonde grins. “Nah. If I was scared, I’d be giving you directions like my grandma — you know, all ‘slow down, watch the curb, both hands on the wheel.’”

Azzi smiles despite herself, relaxing just a little.

“So…” the blonde draws out the word. “Why’d you move to New York?”

Azzi shrugs. “I guess it just felt like the right place for me.”

“Yeah?” The blonde leans back in her seat, stretching her legs out comfortably. “And what do you do, exactly?”

“I model,” Azzi answers. “Not full-time yet, but… working on it.”

The blonde’s eyebrows lift. “Ohhh, so you’re like one of those people who always looks good without trying?”

Azzi scoffs. “Yeah, sure. I totally woke up gorgeous this morning.”

The blonde laughs softly, then her tone shifts — still casual, but more curious. “Okay so… why’d you really move here?”

Azzi hesitates, debating how honest she wants to be. “Honestly?” she says finally. “I needed a change. And… a getaway.”

“From what?” The blonde’s head tilts. “Or who?”

Azzi exhales through her nose. “Weird ex,” she mutters.

The blonde makes a face like that’s all she needs to hear. “Understandable,” she says easily. “So… what’d your boyfriend — I mean, ex-boyfriend — do?”

Azzi’s grip tightens briefly on the steering wheel. “How do you know it was a guy?”

The blonde shrugs. “I just assumed. I mean… you don’t look gay for real.”

Azzi’s mouth falls open in mock offense. “Excuse me?”

The blonde grins like she’s been waiting for that reaction. “Whattt?”

“I take offense to that,” Azzi says, flicking her shoulder without thinking.

The blonde gasps dramatically, clutching her arm. “Oh my god — did you just hit me? I’m already injured!”

“Oh, please.” Azzi rolls her eyes, but she’s grinning now too.

“So” The blonde pauses, eyes still sparkling. “You like women?”

Azzi nods. “Yeah.” Then, narrowing her eyes playfully, “You?”

The blonde snorts like the answer’s obvious. “I thought everyone could tell.”

“Oh, they could,” Azzi quips.

The blonde lets out a laugh — loud and unrestrained — and suddenly, the tension that had been lingering between them slips right out the window. The air feels easier now, warmer somehow.

As they pull up to the sushi bar, Paige hops out first, casually rounding the car just as Azzi locks the doors. Before Azzi can even think about it, the blonde’s fingers find hers again — no warning, no hesitation. Just warm skin sliding against her palm, fingers lacing like they belong there.

Azzi glances down at their hands — Paige’s hand in hers. The blonde doesn’t say anything about it, doesn’t even look her way — just keeps walking like this is the most natural thing in the world.

Azzi doesn’t say anything either. Maybe she doesn’t want to.

Inside, the sushi bar is small and cozy — warm lighting, soft music, and the faint scent of soy sauce lingering in the air. They slide into a booth by the window, Paige stretching her legs out comfortably while Azzi flips through the menu.

“I’m just getting the spicy tuna rolls,” the blonde announces, tossing her menu aside like she’s done this a hundred times before. “Easy choice.”

Azzi snorts. “That’s boring.”

“Okay, model, what’s your go-to?” the blonde challenges, grinning.

Azzi hums thoughtfully. “Salmon sashimi… and tempura shrimp rolls. Oh, and gyoza.”

“Damn,” the blonde laughs. “Ordering the whole menu?”

“You literally said your ‘easy choice’ like you’ve never eaten anything else in your life.”

“Maybe I haven’t,” the blonde shoots back, grinning wider.

They both end up ordering a mix of everything — the blonde insists on adding edamame, claiming “you can’t not order edamame,” and Azzi doesn’t argue.

“So…” the blonde leans her elbows on the table. “You’re a model, huh?”

Azzi nods, fiddling with her chopsticks. “Trying to be.”

“I feel like I’ve seen you before,” the blonde says thoughtfully. “Are you, like… famous?”

Azzi laughs, shaking her head. “Not even close.”

“Well…” The blonde shrugs. “I’ll keep an eye out.”

Azzi smiles despite herself. “Guess so.”

“What about you?” Azzi asks, leaning back in her seat. “You just hang out on trains and get concussions for fun?”

The blonde grins. “Nah… I’m kinda retired.”

Azzi frowns. “From what?”

“Basketball,” the blonde says like it’s nothing. “I design sometimes, though — clothes, mostly.”

“You’re a designer?”

“Sometimes,” the blonde repeats, like it’s more of a side project than an identity. “I moved here ‘cause I know some people working in fashion. Some models too.” She gestures vaguely, then pauses. “Guess I know one more now.”

Azzi smiles, but there’s something tugging at the back of her mind.

“You know,” she says slowly. “I still don’t know your name.”

The blonde freezes, blinking once like she’s surprised.

“Oh,” she says, like she just realized it too. “Paige.”

Paige. The name settles in Azzi’s mind like something she’s supposed to remember — something important.

“Nice to meet you… Paige.” Azzi smiles.

“Likewise.” Paige’s smile is lazy, soft — like she’s already known Azzi for years.

Their food arrives, and the conversation drifts between light teasing and easy conversation. Paige’s smile never seems to falter — it’s so constant that Azzi wonders if her face just naturally sits like that.

The sushi plates were nearly empty now, chopsticks scattered across the table like forgotten utensils in a game of pick-up sticks. Paige was still talking — something about her old basketball days — but Azzi wasn’t really listening. Not properly, anyway.

She was too distracted.

By the way Paige’s fingers danced along her water glass. By the way she smiled — wide and easy, like she didn’t have a single thing to hide. By the way those blue eyes — god, those blue eyes — kept flicking back to her between sentences.

Azzi barely noticed her own phone screen lighting up beside her. She figured it was just a reminder or some random email.

“Wait, hold up,” Paige said suddenly, interrupting herself. “You keep checking the time — you got somewhere to be?”

Azzi blinked back into focus. “Shit,” she muttered, checking her lock screen properly for the first time. “Yeah… I’ve got a shoot soon.”

“You’re working today?” Paige’s eyebrows lifted. “Damn. Busy woman.”

Azzi snorted. “Something like that.”

“Oh, wait,” Paige said suddenly, snapping her fingers like she’d just remembered something important. “I ordered dessert.”

Azzi blinked. “Dessert?”

“Yeah.” Paige grinned. “Figured I’d earn some extra points in case you tried to knock me out again.”

Azzi huffed a laugh, shaking her head.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah,” Paige said, leaning back with a smug smile. “But you laughed, so…”

Azzi tried to fight her smile but failed

By the time they left the restaurant, Azzi was running late.

“You sure you’ll make it in time?” Paige asked as they walked back to her car.

“Yeah,” Azzi sighed. “Just gotta take the train since my driver’s off today.”

“I can take you,” Paige offered like it was nothing.

Azzi frowned. “I thought you weren’t feeling good enough to drive?”

“I’m feeling better now,” Paige said with a grin that Azzi didn’t fully trust.

“Uh-huh,” Azzi muttered.

“Look,” Paige said, twirling her keys around her finger, “it’s for safety measures.”

Azzi shot her a look. “Safety measures?”

“Yeah,” Paige said like it was obvious. “Gotta make sure you actually make it inside.”

“You’re weird.”

“I get that a lot.”

When they reached the building, Paige stayed parked at the curb, one hand still on the wheel.

“I’ll wait ‘til you’re inside,” Paige said casually.

Azzi gave her a look. “For safety measures, right?”

Paige grinned. “Exactly.”

Azzi smiled, grabbing her bag before heading to the door.

She turned back once more before walking inside, just in time to see Paige driving off.

Azzi reached for the handle — and nothing.

She tried again — still locked.

“What the hell…”

Peering through the window, she saw dim lights and empty chairs. The place was closed.

Her phone? Dead.

“Of course,” Azzi muttered.

With a sigh, she fished out her portable charger from her bag — dead too.

“Perfect.”

Azzi paced for a second, chewing her lip before finally deciding to call her agent from the nearby payphone — something she hadn’t done since, like… middle school.

“Azzi?” her agent answered almost immediately. “Where are you?”

“I’m at the building,” Azzi said. “No one’s here.”

“Because the shoot’s postponed, remember?”

Azzi froze. “Wait… what?”

“I texted you earlier,” her agent explained. “You didn’t see it?”

Azzi closed her eyes, exhaling sharply. No, she hadn’t seen it — because she’d been too busy sitting in that sushi bar, watching some blonde idiot grin her way through stories about terrible basketball injuries and spicy tuna rolls.

“My phone died,” Azzi muttered. “I didn’t see it.”

“Well… you’re off the hook for today. Go do something fun, I guess.”

“Yeah… okay.”

They hung up, and Azzi stood there for a moment, still processing everything.

Now she was stuck outside this empty building. Paige was long gone. And the last thing Azzi felt like doing was walking all the way back to the train station.

She groaned under her breath, leaning against the cold brick wall.

This is what you get for thinking with your heart — or worse… your hormones.

With a sigh, Azzi turned toward the pay phone again, fumbling for some change in her bag. She figured calling a cab was her best bet now — walking to the train station in this heat felt like some cruel punishment she didn’t deserve.

She’d just fed a quarter into the slot when she heard the familiar rumble of an engine — low and steady, like the sound of a car that had seen some things but still ran perfectly.

Azzi turned her head — and there it was.

That same black Jeep pulling into the parking lot.

The same freakishly tall blonde stepped out, holding a small paper bag and looking around like she was lost. Paige’s eyes landed on Azzi, and she grinned, jogging over like this was just a casual meetup and not the second time she’d shown up unannounced.

“Hi there,” Paige said, all smug like she knew something Azzi didn’t.

Azzi let out a soft laugh. “What are you doing here?”

“I forgot to give you this.” Paige held up the bag. “I actually ordered the dessert for you and yeah.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, and I locked my keycard in my room, sooo…” Paige winced. “Yeah.”

Azzi snorted. “Dumb blonde things?”

“Dumb blonde things,” Paige confirmed with a grin.

“What about you?” Paige asked. “Why’re you still out here, shoot over already?”

Azzi sighed. “My phone’s dead, so I didn’t see my agent’s text. The shoot was postponed, and I was too busy listening to you talk my ear off to even notice. Then you drove off, so I was stuck here debating whether to walk to the train or just call a cab — but my driver’s off today, and it’s so hot and I—”

“Whoa, whoa.”

Paige grabbed her hands — actually grabbed her hands — and Azzi froze mid-ramble.

“Calm down,” Paige said softly, her fingers giving a gentle squeeze. “Just… breathe, kay?”

Azzi exhaled shakily, her pulse still racing for a reason that had nothing to do with the weather.

“Better?” Paige asked, her eyes searching hers.

Azzi nodded. “Yeah… better.”

Paige smiled. “Good. Now c’mon — I’ll take you back to the hotel. No problem.”

Azzi blinked. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.” Paige grinned again, a little softer this time. “Besides… I owe you for the amazing sushi date.”

Date? Date. Oh..a date.

Azzi masked the nervousness with a laugh under her breath. “Yeah, fair.”

Without thinking, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Paige’s waist in a quick hug.

“Thank you.” She said.

Paige went rigid at first — like she hadn’t expected it — but then her arms lifted, curling loosely around Azzi’s shoulders.

“‘S no problem, Az,” Paige murmured, her voice lower now — softer.

Azzi froze, pulling back slightly. “Az?”

Paige’s face went pink. “Oh… uh…” She scratched the back of her neck. “I mean… I just figured… I dunno, is that okay?”

Azzi grinned. “Yeah… it’s okay.”

“Cool,” Paige said, scratching the back of her neck. “Cool, cool…”

Azzi shook her head, turning toward the car.

She wasn’t sure what was more surprising — the fact that Paige had called her Az, or the fact that Azzi kinda hoped she’d say it again.

Az.

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

fangirling and finances 𓂂 𓇼˚｡ •

Summary: offical merch is expensive. the men who sell it are rich. doesn't mean i won't go in a rant about it.

✿ ln x desi!reader ✦

✿ fluff + humour ✦

masterlist ☾☼

monaco glistened in the mediterranean sunlight, a playground for the global elite. y/n, though, had another purpose. no need for the designer stores; she was tracking lando norris. she gripped her phone, praying she could take a photo if she managed to get close enough. her wardrobe? a much-worn "lando 4" t-shirt, a copy she'd bought from a street stall back home in india. official f1 merchandise prices would make her cry – genuinely, who could possibly afford those prices? seeing a known face by the casino square, y/n's heart leaped. it was him! taking a deep breath, she walked over, attempting to look as casual as possible. "mr. norris, may i have an autograph?" lando grinned, always the professional, and autographed her phone case. as he returned it to her, his eyes fell on her t-shirt. "cool shirt," he said, "but why not get the official merch? the quality is so much better." that was it. the floodgates opened. "are you kidding me? official merch is highway robbery! i could practically fund a small road trip around europe with the cost of one of your official hoodies!" lando blinked, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. road trips? he was more used to private jets. "uh-huh," he said, clearly not understanding the financial reality of budget travel. y/n was going strong. "see, a good official t-shirt will cost you about 80 euros, okay? that's, like, 7,200 rupees! i can buy at least five of these fake shirts for that kind of money, and they're not half bad! or, let's look at it this way, that's enough for, like, 140 big mac meals in india! imagine the food coma!" lando stared at her, confusion and fascination warring in his gaze. big macs? he lived in michelin-star restaurants. but she was so vivid, so evocative with her words; the sheer incredulity of her comparisons swept him up in their wake. "right," he answered slowly, "big macs. got it." y/n, unaware of his millionaire thinking, was only just beginning. "and those caps? don't even get me started! 40 euros for a cap? that's 3,600 rupees! i could buy a good pair of running shoes for that! shoes i could use to run away from those ridiculous prices!" lando, however, was undergoing some weird phenomenon. it was akin to "cuteness aggression," but rather than having the urge to squeeze a puppy, he simply wanted to continue hearing her. her furrowed brow, the frantic maths on her phone, the very universality of her money troubles – it was all oddly charming. casually, he suggested, "so, if money did not matter, what pieces would you most want?" y/n, without hesitation, recited her fantasy wishlist: a team polo, windbreaker, the limited-edition monaco hat, even the official team backpack. she listed the prices both in euros and rupees, not even catching lando's discreetly opening eyes at the sum. "and where are you staying?" he inquired, attempting to be casual. "how long are you in monaco?" y/n, still enthralled by her merchandise fever, replied eagerly, sharing information about her budget hotel and the last few days of her journey. lando listened intently, taking it in. "i'll… uh… i'll see what i can do with those prices," he replied with a small smile, well aware he wasn't going to negotiate with the official merchandise vendor. the next morning, an unassuming van arrived outside of y/n's hotel. a delivery man appeared, holding an enormous, unorthodox-looking package. on the inside, wrapped in tissues, were every item y/n had listed. the monaco cap, team polo, windbreaker, even the backpack. in a side pocket was stuck a tiny note, scribbled in pen: "look at the prices… adjusted ;) - lando." y/n gazed at the box contents, her mouth agape. she couldn't believe it. lando had actually… he'd listened to her rant! she messaged her friends immediately, telling them the tale in wide-eyed wonder, exaggerating the details just a little for dramatic effect. the question now was: what next? would this be an isolated act of kindness, or the start of something bigger? she had no clue, but she couldn't help grinning. this was certainly a vacation to remember.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

tf, why do i like this? dee, this is for you. anyways, i hope you like this! this is my prompt list, so y'all can select a number, give me a driver and i will write it as soon as possible! i also have a google form for a taglist if anyone's interested! you can sent in your requests here :)

taglist: @maketheshadowsfearyou ; @anamiad00msday ; @imlonelydontsendhelp ; @peterholland04 ; @justaf1girl ; @greantii ; @nocturnalherb16 ; @phobiccneel ; @winkev1 ; @alexxavicry ; @hiireadstuff ; @opastries81

[vroomvro0mferrari]

LN4 | Vexing Vacation – Part 1

Summary: When you agreed to join your brother on his vacation, sharing a room with his best friend wasn’t part of the plan. Now, that you’re constantly stuck with Lando and his relentless teasing, you’re not sure whether you want to strangle him or kiss him.

Lando Norris x Fewtrell!Reader, one-bed trope, a lot of banter and a hint of forced proximity :)

WC: 3.1K

Warnings: mentions of sex/sexual insinuations, and cursing (as always)

Masterlist | Part 2

Y/N sighed as she stared at her suitcase. She would never get it closed without breaking the zipper. She opened it again, going through the selection of clothes while she asked herself which of her items weren’t absolutely necessary. The unfortunate answer was that she needed everything. 

She had wild plans for the short vacation her brother had invited her on. According to him, she had been too stressed the last couple of months, and she desperately needed some time off. Along with the promise that he’d take care of everything, she had agreed to join his trip. She could use a one-night stand, or two and a little flirting to get her mind off her busy job.

However, there was the small nuisance of Lando coming along. Ever since he gained some confidence after his career took off and girls started herding him, he had been mocking her and making extremely inappropriate comments. He had changed over the years and Max had told her all about it. He told her about his new endeavours with the ladies; how he brought a different girl home every weekend and never spoke to them again. The attention was feeding his ever-growing ego, and it annoyed Y/N endlessly. He needed someone to put him in his place, and she would volunteer every time.

She smiled triumphantly when she finally zipped her suitcase closed with half an hour to spare. Sitting on her couch and scrolling on her phone, she waited for her brother to pick her up on his way to the airport. They greeted each other quickly before they took off, Y/N and Pietra catching up and discussing their plans for the week as Max drove.

Once they arrived at the airport, she spotted Lando all too quickly, casually leaning against a pillar near the check-in. He was wearing sunglasses (inside – like some lunatic) and a cocky smile on his face when he saw them approaching. 

“Y/N Fewtrell. It’s been a while…”

“If only it lasted longer,” She responded.

Lando smiled at her reply, enjoying her feisty character whereas Max hissed into her ear, “Play nice.” 

“Let’s board?” Lando asked. “The jet’s ready, I think.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Private?”

“Yes. Are you impressed?”

“Hardly,” she scoffed before rolling her suitcase to the plane.

The group arrived at their destination in no time – flying private really did have its perks – and drove the rental car to the resort. Taxis were a no-go when half of the people on the trip were professional drivers, and apparently, so were ordinary cars. 

The porter took the bags out of the trunk and Lando handed the keys to the valet driver before they entered the hotel. Y/N took a seat in one of the luxurious chairs in the hotel lobby while she let her brother manage the check-in. She was people-watching when the group joined her.

“Okay… So, there’s been a little mishap…” Y/N looked at her brother with narrowed eyes.

“What did you do?” She said in a low tone.

“So, I may have forgotten to book an extra room for you…” Max admitted.

“What?”

“And they have no other rooms left, even the most expensive ones are taken.”

“Please tell me you’re joking.” 

“I’m not,” he paused, “but, you can share with Lando.”

Of course, Lando would oh-so-heroically offer to share his room with her. She could just smack the smirk right off his face.

“Max, can I talk to you for a minute – in private?” Y/N asked, an innocent smile on her face, before forcefully pulling her brother aside.

“I can’t sleep in the same room as Lando, Max. I had plans for this vacation, plans that can’t happen if I’m sharing a room with Lando.”

Max raised an eyebrow at her insinuation but didn’t comment on it. “Well, what other option do you have?” He said, crossing his arms.

“I could share a room with Pietra, and you can share with Lando…” she suggested, smiling up at her brother sweetly. “Please?”

Max sighed. “I don’t know about that, Y/N. Pietra and I have plans too, you know. Plans that include nightly activities. In bed,” He clarified.

Y/N pulled a face of disgust but offered her brother the same courteousness of ignoring the comment. “Are you serious, Max? You’re okay with me, your little baby sister, sharing a room – a bed, with Lando Norris? You know well enough that he’s always trying to get into my pants. This is your fault, you know. You told me you had taken care of everything.”

“I don’t like this as much as you do, but there’s not really another choice, is there?”

“Yes, there is. I told you, I can room with—”

“Y/N. Don’t be childish, you’ll be fine sharing a room for a few nights.”

“He’s going to try to take my innocence, Max. You can’t let that happen. You’re my big brother. You’re supposed to protect me, not throw me into the lion’s den.” Y/N tried, pulling out all the stops in the hope Max would change his mind. There was no other card she could play. She was tugging on his arm, practically begging him in the middle of the hotel lobby. If Lando and Pietra didn’t already know what was going on, they sure would know now.

Max rolled his eyes. “Your innocence has been gone for years, I’m sure,” Y/N gasped in offence, “It’s not going to work, make the best of it, yeah?” He concluded, patting her back before walking back to the group. 

She watched as her brother walked away, frustration clear on her face, but she joined him only a couple of seconds later; she needed to make the best of this, after all, and it was too late to go home now.

As her eyes met Lando’s, she could already feel a wave of irritation come over her. He was standing casually, the stupid sunglasses still perched on his nose, hands tucked in his pockets, and a smirk plastered on his face as if he knew exactly how her conversation had gone.

“You really don’t want to share a bed with me, do you?” He asked her as soon as she was near enough.

Y/N crossed her arms, glaring at him. “What gave it away?”

“Could’ve been the part where you begged your brother not to throw you into the lion’s den,” Lando said, raising his eyebrows playfully. “Or maybe the part where you said I’m always trying to get into your pants.” He feigned hurt, putting a hand over his chest. “All those years of flirting down the drain…”

He chuckled softly at her angry expression, the sound infuriatingly smug. “Look, you’re making this into a bigger deal than it is. But don’t worry,” he added, his voice dropped as he leaned closer, “I’ll be the gentleman here. You can take the couch.”

Y/N blinked. “What?” She hissed.

“The couch, it’s all yours. I’ll suffer through the luxury of the bed.” He sighed dramatically before turning toward the elevator, casually slinging his bag over his shoulder.

“See you upstairs, roommate,” he winked, stepping inside as the doors slid shut.

Her jaw was slack as she watched him disappear behind the sliding doors. She turned to Max angrily, “What the fuck is wrong with him? Did he fall on his head as a child or something?”

Pietra laughed softly as she wrapped her arms around Max’s waist. “He’s just teasing you, Y/N. It’ll be fine. Come on, let’s go up.”

– – – – –

“I’m not sleeping on the couch,” Y/N said as soon as she entered the room.

“Oh, hello. Good to see you.” Lando smiled smugly from his position on the bed.

She glared at him – if looks could kill he’d be dead ten times over by now. “Get. Off. My. Bed.” She forced out through her gritted teeth.

Lando stretched out even further on the bed, hands behind his head. “Your bed? If I’m not mistaken, you were an afterthought to this vacation. This room was originally mine. You should be glad I’m kind enough to share it with you.”

Y/N stared at him. She wanted to rebuke him and tell him to stay on the couch, but he was right – although she’d never admit it to his face. He was doing her a favour by sharing his room, but he would never be chivalrous enough to sacrifice his bed. She took a deep breath. “Fine,” she said, her voice cold and direct. “I guess we’ll share the bed.”

“Fine with me,” Lando said offhandedly as he messed with the remote control.

“Alright, then. I’ll go get ready for dinner.” 

The silence that settled over the room was awkward, at best. Y/N felt Lando’s eyes pricking in her back as she did her makeup, and the eye contact through the mirror didn’t make it any better.

“What?” She asked, hoping for some conversation to fill the quiet.

“Nothing,” Lando responded, averting his eyes and continuing to browse through the series and movies on the TV.

Y/N frowned at the response. She’ll have to raise a topic of conversation herself, then. “Why is it so cold in here?” She asked.

“I don’t know,” Lando retorted.

“Do you think it’s cold or are you okay with the temperature?” She continued, but Lando merely shrugged in response.

Y/N sighed, setting down her brush and powder before getting up to look at the air-conditioning setting. In contrast to the rest of the room, it was an old-fashioned system with a disk with a pointer to set the temperature. She turned the disk, but the pointer didn’t move.

“Are you getting hotter?” She asked confused, not feeling a temperature difference in the air blowing out of the air conditioner. 

“Don’t even try,” she added quickly before Lando could respond, already seeing the smirk form on his face.

It quickly changed into an innocent smile, “What? I was just going to say I don’t feel a difference.”

“Mhm, sure. I think the air conditioner is broken. I turned the temperature up, but it’s not getting any warmer…”

Lando got up from the bed with a sigh and walked closer to look at the buttons himself. 

“You don’t have to get so close…” Y/N commented when she felt his breath hitting her neck.

“I’m trying to see what the buttons say, Y/N. I have to get close in order to do that.”

“You’re getting in my personal space.”

“Personal space? What’s that? I thought we were past the formalities.”

Y/N huffed, crossing her arms. 

“I don’t know why it’s not working,” Lando continued, “It must be broken,” he concluded before walking back to the bed. 

“What? Can’t you fix it?”

Lando looked at Y/N incredulously, “How am I supposed to fix it?”

“I don’t know… Aren’t you good with technology and stuff?”

“That thing is ancient, Y/N.”

She huffed. She’d just have to deal, then. She quickly changed into one of her dresses and finished her hair.

“Aren’t you going to change?” She asked Lando, who was still lying on the bed in his plane clothes.

“Hm?”

“We’re leaving any minute now. It’d be nice if you changed into something decent for dinner. We’re not eating at some dive bar, you know.”

Lando rolled his eyes and sighed, “Don’t you ever get tired of yourself?”

“Excuse me?” she retorted, crossing her arms as she stared him down, about to scold him when there was a knock on the door.

“You’re lucky this time,” she added, before letting Max and Pietra in. 

She plastered a sweet smile on her face and complimented Pietra on her outfit.

“I can say the same about you,” Pietra responded kindly, pulling Y/N in for a hug.

“Oh, you’re too sweet,” Y/N waved off her comment.

“Are you ready to leave?” Max cuts in.

“Yes, don’t know about Lando though. He wouldn’t change.”

“I’m ready,” he interjected. “I don’t need as much time as some people here,” he said with a teasing smile.

“Okay, let’s go.” Max pulled her out of the room before Y/N could respond, her mouth already open to rebut his rude comment.

“Did you hear that, Max? How on earth am I supposed to get through the night – let alone the entire vacation – when he talks to me like that? I swear, I’m going to strangle him in his sleep—” 

“Let’s not do that. You just need to adjust a little bit.”

“Did you hear what he said before? He asked me if I never get tired of myself. Do you know how insulting that is? He’s absolutely insufferable! His ego’s way too big, he could use someone to knock it down for him,” Y/N kept rambling as Max led her to the elevator, basically pushing her in before she quieted down.

Pietra and Lando joined them only a few seconds later, and the cocky grin on Lando’s face showed he knew exactly how much he had ticked her off, and the enjoyment he took from it. Y/N glared at him throughout the elevator ride. However, despite his earlier comments and the way he had annoyed her all day – if not all her life – she couldn’t deny he looked good. 

The white shirt he had changed into, with the top buttons open and the sleeves rolled up, accentuated his muscled arms, and allowed her to see the glimmer of the silver chain around his neck – she had to admit he was attractive. When Lando caught her looking she quickly averted her gaze, looking at her nails as she picked at them. But he had already noticed, his grin only becoming cockier. The confidence with which he carried himself, although extremely frustrating and unnecessary, had caught her eye along with all the other girls’, but it wasn’t enough to make up for his annoying behaviour.

– – – – –

The dinner was uncomfortable. 

Of course, Y/N and Lando had to be seated across from each other. And if the discussions earlier that day didn’t display their dislike for each other, the lack of conversation at the dinner table certainly did. They didn’t exchange a single word until Y/N snapped at him.

“Would you stop looking at me?” 

Her patience had worn thin after feeling his eyes on her every other second, but Lando merely smirked at the annoyance in her voice, “Where else am I supposed to look?” he asked innocently.

“I don’t know. Your food, maybe?” She shot back.

Lando raised his hands in surrender, before turning his attention to Max and Pietra, who were deep in conversation. Y/N tried to focus on their discussion, but the persistent feeling of Lando’s gaze on her was impossible to ignore. Every time their eyes met, his smirk only grew, making her jaw clench tighter.

When the meal came to an end, Y/N was more than ready to leave. She quickly collected her bag and jacket before joining Pietra on the walk back. With Lando far away from her, she could finally relax and talk comfortably, without being distracted by a pair of eyes burning holes in her face. The group quickly made their way back to the hotel, and after the elevator ride, Y/N and Lando were once again left alone.

“It’s cold in here,” she mumbled, switching the lights on as she entered the hotel room.

“You don’t say,” he responded sarcastically.

Y/N sighed, deciding to ignore the comment and rather focus on the problem at hand. “Okay, we should probably discuss how we’re going to do this…” Lando looked at her confusedly, so she continued, “As concluded earlier today, we’ll share the bed. I’ll take the left side if that’s okay?” 

Lando nodded, so she continued, “The bed is big, so if you dare cross over to my side, I’ll choke you in your sleep—” 

“Ooh, kinky,” he interjected, and Y/N flashed him a fake smile, “or I’ll tell Max, and he’ll handle it for me,” she finished.

Now, usually, Lando wouldn’t care much for her threats, but he knew Max was protective over his sister and from experience, Lando also knew that Max would indeed fuck him up if he crossed Y/N’s boundaries. He was actually surprised that Max was okay with him and Y/N sharing a room; he was usually up her ass whenever she so much as stood near a man. He didn’t know whether to be glad about it or not; did Max think Lando was like a brother to his sister, that nothing would ever happen between them, or did he trust him enough not to do anything without her permission? 

“Fine, fine. I promise I’ll be a perfect gentleman,” he told her.

Y/N squinted her eyes at him. 

“I will,” he repeated. 

She wasn’t sure whether to believe him or not, but the sincerity in his voice suited her a bit. She nodded and quickly changed into her pyjamas in the bathroom before slipping under the covers on the left side of the bed – as promised. She lay on her side, facing away from the right side where Lando would soon settle. She stayed as close to the edge as she could without falling off, so much so that Lando raised an eyebrow at her when he returned.

“You okay over there? Not lonely or cold or anything? I could warm you up if you like,” he suggested, the amusement evident in his tone.

“I’m fine,” she muttered. She wasn’t really, though. The room was freezing with the air conditioner still blasting cold air, and the thin comforter, which would normally be fine for the temperatures outside, wasn’t helping much.

She felt the bed move as Lando shifted, but she stayed silent, quietly staring out the window where she could just barely make out the street lanterns through the thin curtains. Although she pretended not to care (and would continue to do so), being this close to him made her uneasy – not because she didn’t trust him, although she wasn’t entirely convinced yet, but because of how aware she was of him. His presence, the warmth radiating from his body, and the faint scent of his cologne were all impossible to ignore in this proximity.

She closed her eyes, willing herself to fall asleep, but her mind refused to quiet. Despite everything, she couldn’t stop thinking about how he had actually been pretty decent at dinner –  apart from his frustrating staring habit – and how relaxed, confident, and hot he looked in that shirt… She hated how easily he affected her and how only he could wind her up without any effort at all.

– – – – –

Part 2

[jiminomenon]

money talks

pairing: jang wonyoung x female reader

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

word count: 4.4k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“let her go.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“y/n.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

y/n’s eyes widened. “contract?”

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

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

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

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

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

wonyoung smirked. “you won’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

y/n blinked. “right now?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“what are you saying, y/n?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“together,” she agreed.

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

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

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

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

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

[planetaryupscaled]

Honeymoon 1: Guilty Pleasure

Male Reader x Yunjin x Somi

Tags: 8k, anal, cheating, creampie, oral, squirt

The story is not ours; we simply alter the original story to our preferred settings.

It’s hard to wake up in a more relaxing way than I just had. Lying on a soft comfortable bed in the bedroom of the expensive suite I was renting. The sounds of ocean waves crashing on the beach coming in through the open balcony door. Though the part best of all was the feeling of tight feminine lips wrapped around my dick as my cock was being blown.

I let out a moan as I opened my eyes, and I used pillows to sit up and look down my body. I was still naked from last night’s activities, and the sheets had been thrown aside. Down around my waist was also a naked body of a thin fit woman. I could see her cute nude ass, and she had legs crossed and kicked up in the air. She moved her red hair out of her face, it revealed her brown eyes, looking up at me. Though she continued to suck me, her stretched lips did seem to smile a bit when she noticed I was awake. She kept going for a few more seconds before releasing my pole from her mouth.

“Morning husband,” she said with a big smile, obviously enjoying getting to say those words. We had gotten married only two days ago, and now we were enjoying our honeymoon at an exclusive private resort. The hotel had many amenities, but the best of which was that its security kept photographers away and guests knew better than to take photos of others as they enjoyed their own privacy.

“I could really enjoy waking up every day like this.”

“I bet you could,” she said as her hands took over working my rod from her mouth. “I had to wake you up, and this seemed like the most fun way. You need to hurry up and finish though, we only have 30 minutes until they stop serving breakfast.”

“Or… we just call for room service, and then really enjoy ourselves in the shower while we wait for it to arrive.”

“See, that’s one of the reasons I love you. You always have such great ideas.” Yunjin than happily went back to sucking my cock. I had to remind her a few minutes later that I still had to order the food. She let my erection slip back out of her mouth and told me what she wanted for breakfast then headed to the in the shower to get ready for me. I called in the order and told them that there was no rush on the order since I was about to take a shower.

Walking into the bathroom I saw my new wife under the spray of water. “Babe, next time we sneak out and have sex on the beach we need to make sure and bring towels or a blanket or something. I still have sand in my hair from last night” Yunjin yelled over the sound of the shower. I just stood and watched as she twirled in the large shower stall letting the water rinse off the soap suds.

When she wiped the water from her eyes, she saw me standing against the wall watching her. Yunjin gave me a flirtatious look and bit her lip. She then stepped up and pressed her delicious tits up against the glass and gave me the come here signal with her finger. I quickly followed her command and got in the shower with her. She spun around to face me and we made out under the spay of the water. I moved her back as we kissed until she was up against the glass wall. Then I could not help myself but to bend down and take one of her nipples into my mouth. I was still obsessed with how perfect her tits were, and she loved how I loved her tits. I could go for a while playing with them, and playing with her, but she had already gotten me very worked up and we had food on the way, so I flipped her around. Knowing what was coming, Yunjin bent at the waist a bit and stuck out her ass as she braced herself up against the glass. Taking hold of her hips I pulled her back and push my hips forward. We both moaned in pleasure as my cock entered her. After all the sex we’d had since we’d been together, her pussy fit me like a glove.

“Oh god yes,” Yunjin said repeatedly as I pounded her from behind. Our bodies were in perfect sync, her pushing her ass back right as I pushed my hips forward causing the sounds of our sex echoed in the bathroom. When I knew she was getting close to her orgasm I moved my hand around to rub her clit until I finally felt the familiar feeling of her pussy clenching around my cock as she climaxed. As she came, I grabbed her arms and pulled them behind her body. With nothing else holding her up, Yunjin once again found herself with her tits pushed up against the glass. This time instead of silently motioning for me to join her, she was loudly moaning as I used her body. I kept hammering her from behind until I was all but about to cum. I let go of her arms and pulled out, thinking I’d just cum all over her ass this time, but my wife had other ideas. She spun around and dropped to her knees. Wrapping her lips around my cock, she pushed my hand away from my dick and took hold of it herself. She began jacking off my dick with her tongue probing the head of my dick, all the while her eyes looked up at me with a look that seemed to be pleading me to cum. I didn’t hold back and fired my load in her mouth, which like so many times before she happily accepted and swallowed.

“Well, I got my morning protein,” she joked when it was over.

“Ha, yeah… Oh, shit the room service.” I said as I jumped out of the shower and wrapped myself in a towel. When I walked out of the bathroom, I saw that they had left a cart with our breakfast just inside the door. We had our breakfast, of course, Yunjin decided to have it naked and let her body air dry after she found out they already delivered the food. Afterward we got dressed and headed out to into the resort. We stopped in on a few of the shops and then walked along the beach. I’ll freely admit, we were totally acting like that couple you hate to be around. We had our arms wrapped tightly one another as we walked everywhere, there were tons of public displays of affection. I normally would have hated us for being that couple, but we were on our honeymoon and Yunjin was in a particularly lovey-dovey mood so I just went with it.

We were pretty much attached at the hip until mid-afternoon. We had dinner reservations tonight and Yunjin wanted to go to the salon for a mani/pedi. With time to myself, I hung out at the beach. The suite we were rented also came with a private cabana, so I relaxed and did some reading in there. After a little while, I got up and headed over to the bar to get myself a drink. As I approached the bar, I couldn't help but notice the blondie standing there ordering a drink. Yeah, I couldn’t help but notice her, I mean notice that really nice ass in her small bikini bottoms cut.

“Getting a good look?” I apparently had looked a little too long because the woman had looked around while waiting on her drink, and had caught me looking at her ass.

“I...um...shit, sorry.” I apologize as she looked at me through her big sunglasses. As she turned around fully, I couldn’t help but check out the rest of her. Compared to Yunjin, she had a whiter complexion, perky breast, a bigger ass, and she was about as tall barefoot as Yunjin was in heels. “I guess I should almost take it as a compliment that I can get the guy honeymooning with Yunjin to check me out.”

“You know who I am?” I asked as I leaned against the bar next to her.

“Of course. This resort isn’t that big, and security doesn’t stop guest them from gossiping like high schoolers.” It was not until she raised her sunglasses and I saw her eyes did I realize who it was I was talking to.

“Oh, Somi. wow.”

“So you know who I am too?” She asked flirtatiously.

“Of course, I’m a fan actually. I surprised Yunjin with tickets to your concert last summer.” Somi stayed and talked with me even after she had gotten her drink and I ordered two mojitos, We ended up both taking a seat at the bar and chatting even after my drink arrived.

“So what do you do, for work?”

“I work for advertising agency.”

“Huh? So what’s your connection to the entertainment industry?”

“None, unless you include Yunjin.”

“Hmmm.”

“What?” I asked she was obviously probing for some bit of information.

“It’s nothing. Just trying to figuring out what Yunjin sees in you.”

“Well fuck you too.”

Somi laughed. “I’m sorry that sounded bad. I mean you’re handsome and all, and in pretty good shape. If we meet at a bar and you started hitting on me, I sure wouldn’t stop you. It’s just that...well, generally we don’t end up with people outside the entertainment industry. When they do, it usually comes back to one of two reasons.”

“Oh yeah, what are those?” I asked curious to hear her theory.

“Well, one, is that they are rich, and I mean like really rich. So are you…”

“I mean I make decent money for a normal person, but no, I’m not from money and you probably made more from your last tour than I’ll make in the next several years.”

“Okay then,” she said with a very big smirk on her face before taking a sip of her drink.

“So?”

“So? So what?” She asked knowingly.

“What’s the second reason?”

“Well, let's just say…” She then put her hand on my thigh, “that they tend to have certain specific talents that women find irresistible,” she said in a hushed tone.

“Ummm...wellll…I mean, I don’t know, I… well I know Yunjin is always more than satisfied with the job I do.”

“I bet.” Somi was now rubbing my thigh. “Any chance I can take a peek at what she’s been enjoying?”

“Gezz” the word slipped out of my mouth before my brain could react. I lifted up my hand with my ring on it. “Look I’m flattered but I’m married remember? As extremely tempting an offer as that might be, I really can’t.”

“Come on. Come back to my cabana, I’ll even give you a peek at what’s under my bathing suit first if you promise to show me what’s under yours. She doesn’t ever have to know” Somi whispered into my ear in a sultry voice. I hadn’t noticed until just now how close she had moved her chair to mine.

“Are you serious?”

“Come on, I know you want me. I know you think I’m hot. Maybe even a little hotter than your wife.”

“Whoa, I didn’t say that. You’re putting words in my mouth.”

“You can put something in my mouth if you want.”

“I...umm...look, another time, another life, I would have happily mounted you right on this bar and spend hours going to town on you, but as I said I am happily married.”

“Okay,” Somi said as she got up from her chair. “If you change your mind or just want to get out of the sun, I’ll be in cabana number 5.”

“I have a cabana of my own, but thanks.” Somi gave my thigh a squeeze before walking back to her cabana, and I couldn’t help but watch her ass as she walked away. And I am pretty sure she knew it too. When she was gone from view I sighed and finished off my second mojito. I then texted Yunjin to see when she was going to be finished. I was hoping soon, so I could meet her back up in our room and plow the hell out of her.

Unfortunately, she said she had decided to also get her hair done and wouldn’t be back to our room for another hour or so. I sat at the bar to collect my thoughts while trying cool off a bit, and then I paid my bill. The bartender, who had obviously been listening to me and Somi, gave me a look like I was crazy as I paid and left.

I took a quick dip into the ocean before heading back to my cabana. I thought for a quick second about heading to find Somi’s cabana but I knew I shouldn’t. As I approached my cabana, I seemed a little odd that the privacy flaps were closed. I just assumed that someone from the hotel staff closed them because it was unattended and I had left some stuff in there.

“Oh hey,” I heard a female voice casually say as I passed through the curtains.

“Ho-ly shit.”

“I guess I accidentally mixed up which cabana was mine,” Somi said as she laid on the patio couch in front of me. Resting against her elbow with her torso facing me. With the two pieces of her bikini crumbled into a ball on the coffee table, she was giving me an amazing view of her naked body. The hottest part about it was Somi had her legs split at almost a perfect 90-degree angle with one resting on the on the couch and the other pointing straight up in the air. I was speechless. I have no clue for how long or how many times my eyes scanned up and down her naked body. From her long perfect legs to her pussy with just a slight landing strip, to her tight toned stomach, to her perky b-cups with thick hard nipples just begging to be sucked and nibbled on, and finally up to her pretty face and mesmerizing eyes.

“Well, I guess you have seen me now,” she said as she slowly lowered her leg and used her free arm to rub and emphasize parts of her body, “It would only be fair you give me a peak now.”

“Okay,” I unconsciously agreed. I knew it was wrong, I was married, I was on my honeymoon, but she had me under her spell. I had been able to avoid earlier temptation since me and Yunjin had become official, including several attempts, last time being just a month before the wedding. This time, I just couldn’t say no. I moved the coffee table out of the way as I approached her, and then stood right in front of her face.

“Just so we’re clear,” I said as I undid the drawstring to my board shorts, “we’re not going to have sex.” I was hoping to keep some control over the situation and set up some boundaries.

“That’s fine,” she agreed. I then dropped my shorts and my hard cock sprang forward right in front of her face.

“Hmm, not bad. I’ve had bigger, but you still have a very nice cock.” She reached over and took hold of my shaft.

“Thanks,” I said as she slowly stroked me.

“By the way,” she looked up at me with her brown eyes and said, “oral doesn’t count.” Her eyes dropped back to my dick and she leaned forward. She gave my cock head a very sensual kiss, then stuck out her tongue and flicked it a few times against my tip. Any thought of leaving left my mind as soon as she closed her lips around my dick and began sliding more and more of me into her mouth.

“Oh fuck” I groaned as I rested one hand on the back of her head and she sucked me with earnest. My eyes were focused on her and her face until I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye. Looking down the couch I saw her legs squirming as she used her off-hand to play with herself. God watching her play with herself, I wanted to do more.

“Fuck it, stand up,” I said as I took a step back, my cock slipping from her mouth.

“What? Why?”

“Just stand up and get off the couch.” She had a confused and upset look on her face as she got off the couch. Once she was off, I got on the couch and laid flat on my back. “If we’re going to do this, and oral doesn’t count, then we're going to do it right,” I told her and Somi’s face quickly went from frustrated to smiling. She quickly got on the couch, straddling my face before bending down over my cock. As she opened her mouth and lowered it around my dick, she also lowered her crotch onto my face. Soon we were in a full-blown 69 on the couch. The two of us loudly moaned without mouths full while we serviced each other.

My mouth moved around between lapping up her pussy to teasing her clit, all the while my hands had a firm grasp on her tight ass. As we continued, Somi continued to squirm around on top of me as she deep-throated me. While she humped my face, I occasionally had to move my hands around, and at one point I found one of my fingers resting on the outside of her anus. I did not realize it as I was too focused on my task of getting the gorgeous woman to cum, but Somi obvious felt it. She quickly sat up.

“Yes, do it!” She yelled. I tried to ask what she was talking about, but my voice was muffled by her continuing to sit on my face. She still seems to understand me though. “Your finger, stick in my ass,” she pleaded. It was then I realized where my index finger rested. Instead of giving her exactly what she wanted I took my finger away and shoved it and my middle finger into her pussy. I fingered her hard for 30 seconds, getting my fingers nice and wet, then pulled them from her pussy and drove my index finger into her ass.

“Uggghhhh yyessss!” She moaned as I began fingering her ass. She enjoyed my tongue on her clip and her finger in her ass before she went back down to sucking my cock. I could feel Somi moaning more and more around my cock until I felt her ass tighten around my finger and pussy gush on my face. Even after she came, she continued to suck my cock as I continued to tongue her pussy. We kept going until I could finally feel my impending orgasm approaching. I wanted to warn her but with my mouth still buried in her cunt, speaking was difficult. Instead, I used a free hand to give her ass two hard slaps. Somi moaned in response, but she also lifted her ass up a bit, anticipating another slap. With my mouth now free I told her what was coming. Somi quickly got off me and the couch and went to her knees on the ground.

“Quick stand up,” she told me, “I want you to watch. I want you to watch as you cover me in your cum.” I got up and stood in front her. She used both hands to jerk me off, staring up at me the entire time with a big dirty smile.'

“Oh fuck, uugggghhhh” I said as I came. Somi closed her eyes and stuck out her tongue as jets of cum continued to shoot out my dick. You would have thought it’d been days not hours since the last time I got off. When it was over Somi had streaks of my cum running down her face and breasts.

“Holy… wow,” I said when it was all over.

“Wow is right. You can eat pussy like that and your dick is still hard? No wonder Yunjin married you.” Looking down, Somi was still holding my shaft with one hand and I was still almost totally hard. “You sure about that no sex thing? I promise you, I’m worth it.”

I quickly declined, got dressed and left the cabana as soon as I could. I had no doubt that Somi was ‘worth it’ and given any time she would have gotten me to comply. As I headed back to our room, I texted Yunjin and said she would meet me up there in 10 minutes. Thanked god that I would beat her back to the room. As soon I was in, I tossed off my clothes and got into the shower to try and rub off any scent of Somi that might be on me. I made real sure to wash my face and to wash my fingers as well.

“Oh, is that for me?” Looking at the bathroom doorway I saw Yunjin standing there in her sundress. She had come back sooner than I thought, or maybe I was just taking a longer shower than I realized. The thing she was referring to, was, of course, the boner I was still sporting. Even as I showered to tried to get the smell of Somi off me, my mind could not help but think about what would have happened if I stayed and everything I would have done to her.

“Of course it is,” I lied. “Why don’t you take off that dress and come in here so I can give it to you?”

“I’d love to, but I just got my hair done and I want it to last this way at least until after dinner. When you’re done in there meet me out on the balcony.”

“Okay,” I agreed. Once she left, I gave myself one more quick scrub down with some of her scented soap. When I finished, I dried off, wrapped myself in a towel and headed out to the balcony. Yunjin was sitting in one of the chairs looking out at the ocean. She was sipping on a drink she made for herself and she had also used the mini bar to make me a rum and coke. I came up behind her and then bent down to give her a kiss. She kissed me back, and as we kissed, she playfully gave my towel a yank causing to fall off. We were high enough up that I didn’t have to worry about anyone looking up and seeing me nude. As we broke our kiss Yunjin ’s eyes looked down to my crotch and then back up to my eyes.

“Take a seat and just remember to not mess up my hair,” she told me. I sat down on the other chair as she got up. She took the pillow from the chair and tossed it to the ground at my feet. Knowing where this was going, I spread my legs as Yunjin dropped to her knees on top of the pillow.

“I love you,” she told me before proceeding to give me a blowjob on the hotel balcony. I told her I love her back as she slid her mouth all the way down my tool. As I sat there getting my shaft blown by Yunjin while I looked out at the ocean at a fancy tropical resort, I thought that I must have been crazy earlier to put any of this jeopardy. This was all I ever wanted for a long time and to put it at risk, even for someone like Somi, was madness. I then just sat back and enjoyed as my wife gave my balls a tongue bath and then went back to deep-throating me. Once I was set to blow Yunjin was once again all too happy to take my load in her mouth. Unlike this morning, she collected it all in her mouth and one I was done cumming she opened her mouth and swished her tongue around, showing me my load before swallowing.

Once that was over, she gave my cock another once over with her tongue, then returned to her seat. We drank and talked and watched the sunset over the water. She told me about what she was up to when at the salon, and I told her about hanging out at the beach. While I wasn’t sure it was the right move at the time, I told Yunjin that I had met Somi at the bar at the beach and that I talked to her for a bit. In my head, I thought if we ever ran into Somi it would be a lot easier to just act as we had met and nothing happened than for Yunjin to find out I had met Somi and for some reason never told her about it. Yunjin said she wished she was there when I meet Somi and that she was going to keep an eye out for her at the resort. Just like that, the topic of Somi was over. Yunjin got out her phone and snapped a few pictures of the sunset and then insisted we take some selfies in front of it. I quickly put a shirt and shorts on then came back out and let Yunjin pose me however she wanted for a bunch of pictures.

After the sun had set, we got ready for dinner. We were set to have dinner at the upscale restaurant at the resort. I put on a light-weight suit with a white shirt and no tie, leaving the top two buttons undone. Yunjin dressed in a light flowy blue dress that shows off her legs and cleavage, and a pair of scrappy knee-high peep-toe boots. When we got to the restaurant it was still nice out so we told the hostess to give us a seat outside. Yunjin asked her to also take a picture of us together before we took out seats. She was nice enough to take a few of us, Yunjin hugging tightly up against me in each one. Eventually, we sat down and began looking over the menu. We were seated for a few minutes when all of a sudden Yunjin called.

“Oh, Somi!” Yunjin was looking past me and waving at someone. “Babe look, it’s Somi,” Yunjin said. I turned around, and walking towards us next to the hostess was Somi. She had a big smile and was waving back at Yunjin . Somi was wearing a short white dress with black heels.

“Oh my god, hi,” Somi said as she came over to our table. Yunjin got up and the two women hugged. “Congratulations on getting married!”

“Thank you, I was hoping I would run into you after my husband said he met you today.”

“Oh, he told you about that?” Somi looked at me with her eyebrow raised.

“Yup. Just about how we met at the bar and talked a bit,” I said making sure Somi knew the story I told.

“So, who are you here with?” Yunjin asked.

“Oh, no one. I’m just here alone on vacation. Wanted to get away while I had time between projects.”

“That’s nice, but you shouldn't have to eat alone. Why don’t you join us?”

“Really? You don’t mind?” Yunjin insisted. I in the meanwhile did not like how this was going. More to the point, I didn’t know if Somi was just here just by coincidence or if it was to tease me. The hostess moved the three of us over to a larger table. Yunjin sat across the table from me and Somi sat between us. We ordered drinks first, with a bottle of wine to come when our food arrived.

“So how was the wedding?” Somi asked.

“Oh my god, it was amazing!” Yunjin pulled out her phone and began showing off some of the pictures and telling her about the details. The two were totally engrossed in details and went back and forth for a while.

“Wow sounds like it was perfect,” Somi said.

“Well, it had a few bumps,” I finally said.

“What bumps? My sister?” Yunjin asked knowing what I was talking about. “It wasn’t that bad, and it was a little funny.”

“I still say she did it on purpose. She may deny it, and you may not believe it, but I’m telling you that she hates being in your shadow.”

“Wait, what are you two talking about,” Somi spoke up.

“Yejin gave the singer of the band at our wedding a blowjob in the bathroom, and about halfway through his mic came on,” I explained. “Suddenly through the speakers, we could hear his heaving breathing her slurping on his dick. It took five minutes before anyone knew what the sound was or where it was coming from.” Somi burst out laughing, and I also couldn’t help but laugh a bit.

“Well at least the singer enjoyed himself at the wedding” Somi laughed

“Not as much as a couple of my husband’s groomsmen did,” Yunjin said.

“I still don’t get why you invited Ning to the wedding,” I said.

“Because I didn’t think she’d actually accept, and I wanted to rub my wedding in that bitch’s face” Yunjin replayed.

“Ning?” Somi questioned.

“Ning Yizhuo.”

“Oh, this must be good. I gotta hear this.”

“She fucked three of his groomsmen,” Yunjin said bluntly.

“Bullshit!” Somi yelled.

“Yep,” I told her. I took out my phone, opened a group chat, and handed it over to Somi. “Just scroll down and you’ll see the photos.”

“Oh wow,” Somi said as she scrolled.

“Yup two different guys during the wedding, and then all 3 in a hotel room afterward.”

“I still don’t get why she thought I’d care about her having sex with them. But she definitely made their night.”

“Wait, I thought you said she took 3 guys back to the hotel room, I only see two,” Somi said as she scrolled through the pictures.

“Third guy is taking the picture,” I told her.

“Right, that makes sense,” Somi asked if I had any photos of the wedding and I told her yes and where to find them. In general, it was all a very normal time. The only thing that was out of the ordinary was Yunjin was drinking a little more than usual. By the time our dinner and the wine arrived both women were on their third sex on the beaches.

“So how did you guys meet,” Somi asked. I knew Yunjin enjoyed telling the story, but it was also an edited version of the story that she liked to tell.

“Well, we went to the same gym and would see each other around, but never talked to one another. Then one night when I was leaving my car wouldn’t start, and he happens to be leaving as well and helped me out. He drove me home that night, drove me back the next day, and helped me find a good mechanic.” She left out the part where I asked her to flash me her tits as repayment for the ride and we ended up having sex in my car.

“Then for the next few months, we hung out a bit.” We were somewhere between friends with benefits and booty calls who’d occasionally grab dinner or see a movie together. “Then one morning something happened, we started fighting and both finally admitted we had real feelings for one another.” What happened was I ran into her sister at a club one night, we got drunk and ended up hooking. Yunjin found us both passed out naked on a lounge chair by her pool, my morning wood still inside her sister. “And ever since then, we’ve been together and totally in love.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet.”

“Yeah, it is,” Yunjin said looking my way and rubbing her foot along my leg under the table. Dinner continued and by the time we finished eating Yunjin was drunk. She continued to rub against my leg periodically. Twice she fully pressed her foot up against my crotch. After our plates were taken away Somi ordered chocolate lava cake and a bottle of champagne,

“Oh one more thing,” she told the waitress “charge the whole dinner to my room.” The waitress nodded and walked back to the kitchen.

“Somi, you didn’t have to do that,” I said.

“It’s nothing, consider it a wedding gift.”

“That’s so sweet,” Yunjin said.

“I gotta tell you, Yunjin , I didn’t earlier, but I am starting to get why you married him.”

“What’s not to like? He’s handsome, he’s supportive, he’s funny, and the sex is great.”

“Yunjin!” I objected, but she and Somi just laughed.

“What, I’m not telling her anything I haven’t already told my friends,” Yunjin explained.

“So you’ve been enjoying your honeymoon,” Somi asked Yunjin.

“Oh yeah,” Yunjin gulped the rest of her wine. “Some guy’s brag about being able to go all night and whatever, but he really can. Ever since he got past the ‘oh wow I’m banging a celebrity’ phase, you know what I’m talking about?” Somi nodded in response. “Well, ever since then it’s been so good. Not that it wasn’t good before, but after, WOW.” Yunjin started to giggle.

“Well, that’s nice to know.” Somi placed her hand on my thigh. “You two really do seem to be in love though.”

“We are.” Yunjin reached across the table and took hold of my hand. “I’m so comfortable and trusting of him. I gotta tell you if he were some of the other exes, I’d be totally threatened by you. You are exactly his type,” Yunjin told Somi.

“I don’t have a type” I disagreed.

“Are you kidding? The first time I met your mom, she said I was so your type, but then she showed me pictures of some of his exes. All of them have those slender athletic bodies, boobs between a ‘B’ and a ‘C’, and don’t forget their big ass.”

“It does sound like you have a type.” Somi looked at me. Under the table, however, she had moved her hand up my thigh. I was about to say something, but Somi pulled back as a server arrived with our dessert and champagne.

“Look, I should at least let you two have desert alone,” Somi said as she stood up from the table. Yunjin told her that she didn’t need to leave, but Somi said it’s fine.

Just she’s about to left, she said “I hope to see you again soon,” all the while looking right at me. Yunjin didn’t notice this, but I did. The two of us ate desert alone, and when we finished, we headed back up to our room. I told Yunjin to bring the bottle of champagne with us since we both only had a single glass and it was already paid for.

After dinner, Yunjin was very drunk and very horny. We made out passionately in the elevator. By the time we got to our floor, Yunjin had her arms wrapped around my neck and her legs wrapped around my waist. I carried her that way down the hallway to our room. I had to stop kissing Yunjin so I could see where I was going, so she started kissing biting my neck. She seemed very intent on giving me a series of hickies.

When we got to our room, I put her down and we quickly left a trail of clothing to the bedroom. Once we reached it, I was naked and Yunjin was left in nothing but her boots. She stood there still hold the champagne bottle. I took the bottle from her and I began pouring some of it down her chest. I did my best to drink it off her as I poured. Sucking it off her tits, chest, and stomach.

I then gently pushed her so she fell backward onto the bed, her legs still hanging off the edge. I filled her belly button with champagne, did a body shot off her, and then repeated the process a few times. When I was satisfied, I dropped down to my knees on the floor in front of the bed and poured the rest of the champagne all over my wife’s pristine pussy. Yunjin moaned loudly and wrapped her legs around my neck as I began lapping up her cunt. When I could taste not more champagne, I spread apart her lips and buried my tongue into her pussy.

I have loved eating her out, and I loved listening to the moans she makes when I do it. Since that day I had learned a lot tricks of her body and knew what she liked and when she liked it. I knew when was the right moment to move up to her clit and to suck on it, when to flick it with my tongue, when to rub her clit and when to finger her, and on a rare occasion when she wanted her nipples tweaked. That’s how five minutes after first sticking my tongue into her, I was now working towards her second orgasm.

I had my lips on her clit while I used two fingers to finger her. I had Yunjin holding her legs up to her torso, keeping her thighs wide apart. Between the booze and the bliss, Yunjin was lost in her own little world. I sucked on and flicked her clit while I finger blasted her. I could hear her moans quickening. I knew she was getting close. I moved my mouth away and placed my thumb up against her clit. I then used my arm as a jackhammer as I fingered her. I soon had her cumming, but I didn’t slow down. I kept on going. The room filled with the sound of wet skin slapping as my hand and her pussy was now covered in her juices. I knew I was getting close and a minute later my wife screamed and began squirting like a fire hydrant. Yunjin rarely ever squirted, but when she was drunk and really, really horny it was possible. When it was over I took my hand away and stood up over Yunjin.

“Fuck me, seriously?” I said as I looked upon Yunjin naked, well pleased, body. I had apparently done too good of a job because she had passed out on the bed. Knowing from experience she was not going to wake up until morning. I now stood at the end of the bed with a cock as hard as steel, and nowhere to put it. I mean I could just go ahead and have sex with her anyway. We’d both had sex with the other before while the other was asleep or passed out, and with little guilt at all. However, something about doing it to my wife on our honeymoon didn’t feel right. I decided to just call it a night and take care of myself, but first I had to tuck Yunjin into bed. I took off her boots and then picked her up and slipped her under her covers. When she was safely settled, I put two bottles of water and some Excedrin on her nightstand, I then went over to the couch, opened my laptop, and started to type in one of my favorite free video sites.

As the site loaded, I suddenly heard a text on my phone. I had no clue who could be texting me. It was 1 AM, When I opened the message it was pictures of two fingers holding open pussy lips of a pussy I recognize really well from my up close view this past afternoon. It also came with a note that read “in case you’re interested in a midnight snack” along with her room number. The name of the saved contact was ‘Beach Buddy’.

I quickly texted back “When did you save your number to my phone?” She quickly texted back three messages.

“Wow, that was a fast response. What happens to can go all night? Also, you should really pay more attention to your phone when you hand it to strangers.”

I knew I shouldn’t respond. Between the picture, I was sent and the memory of this afternoon, I had more than enough material to get me off before bed. I knew this in my head, but it wasn’t the head on my shoulders that was doing the thinking at the moment. I texted back, “She said I could last all night, she never said that she could.”

“Aww, poor baby. Why don’t you come up and we can talk about it? Or… if you don’t want to talk, I’m sure we can find something else to do.” I thought about texting her back, but I knew there was no point. The moment I answered her text I knew how this was going to end. I took my phone, slipped on some shoes, put on some gym shorts and a t-shirt. I made my way to the room number I had been given and knocked on the door. I waited for a minute and the door finally opened.

“You win. Let’s do this” I said as I pushed past her and entered the room.

“You could sound a little more excited,” Somi said as she closed and locked the door. She had her hair down and appeared to only be wearing a pink silk robe. “I mean…” I didn’t let her finish. I pulled her to me and slipped my tongue into her mouth. After momentarily being caught surprised by my action, Somi started kissing me back. I pinned her against the wall and we continued to make out, my hands roamed all over her body. Somi began lifting my shirt and we broke off our kissing.

“Am I excited enough for you now?” I asked as I took off my shirt and pressed up against her a little more, making sure she could feel my hard cock against her. Somi gave a dirty little giggle as she felt me against her.

“Oh, those are new,” Somi said as she could now see the marks Yunjin left along my neck.

“Yeah, Yunjin can be a little aggressive when she drinks, though I think she’ll be as surprised as you are in when she wakes up in the morning.”

“Really, she’s that out?”

“Oh yeah. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen her that drunk.”

“Good, then she’ll never know if I give you a few of my own.” She raised up and began biting and sucking on the side of my neck, meanwhile I slipped my hand under her robe and found her wet pussy. Somehow her pussy felt even smoother than it had just hours earlier on the beach.

“We should take this to the bedroom,” she seductively whispered into my ear when she was satisfied with the work she had done to my neck. I eagerly agreed and stepped back and let her lead the way. She took a couple of steps then stopped and looked back over her shoulder at me. I then watched as her rope slowly slipped off her shoulders before falling to the floor. I almost began to drool as the ass that first got me to notice her at the bar was now on full display for me. Somi laughed as she saw the pure lust in my eyes and then ran off to the bedroom. I kicked off my shoes and dropped my pants as I chased after her. When I got there, I saw her smiling brightly as she sprawled out on the bed. As I looked up her long shapely legs, I noticed something different between her legs.

“You shaved,” I said as I crawled onto the bed. Her landing strip from earlier today was now gone.

“I hoping tonight would be a special night. Care to see how it feels...with your tongue?” she asked.

“Normally I’d love to, but I’ve had enough foreplay today.” Remembering how she looked when I first saw her in that cabana, I knew exactly how I wanted her. I picked up one of her legs and lifted it straight up into her air as I moved in between her legs. Taking my cock, I rubbed it against her already wet and freshly shaved cunt. Once my dick was nice and wet, I pushed forward. Somi moaned and her eyes rolled back as she felt my cock head pierce her. I slid all the way inside and enjoyed the feeling of her tight warm pussy around my cock. Her pussy felt different but just as good as Yunjin. I soon slowly started to build up tempo.

“Ummmm….yyyeeeessss… give it to me. Harder,” Somi pleaded. I was not there for slow sensual love-making like what me and Yunjin had done the night prior. I was there to fuck and Somi wanted me there to get fucked. As a result, I soon had the bed shaking as I pounded her pussy with my cock. I still had one of Somi’s legs pressed up against my chest, pointed straight up as I banged her and looked down at her.

“Tell me you want me,” Somi begged.

“I want you.”

“Tell me what you want to do to me.”

“I want to fuck you so hard that at worst you will have problems walking tomorrow, and at best you end up shattering your pelvis.”

“Fuck!” she called out. Looking down at her, I found my eyes locked on her breast, glistening with sweat, and her hard nipples. They looked so tempting, I couldn’t resist anymore. Moving her leg down I sat with my legs out and pulled her on top of me. Somi wrapped her arms and legs around me and I lowered my head to her chest. Now in the lotus position, we continued to fuck as my mouth toyed with her nipple. Somi was loving it. She pressed my head firmly against her tits as she bounced on my lap, only ever loosening her grip on my head as I switched from the right one to the left and vice versa.

“I’m so close,” she moaned. “Lay back, let me take over.” I did what she asked and laid down on the bed. She put her hand on my chest, leaned forward and let the hips do the rest. Those years of performing on stage had really done her well as she moves her hips quickly. Her moans and breath quickened I knew she was getting close, I put my hands on her hips as she rode me until she finally came all over my cock. As she came, I pulled her hips all the way down. With my dick all the way buried in orgasming Somi, I let go myself and shot my load deep into her.

“Oh wow,” Somi moaned as she dropped to my chest. I took a minute to catch my breath and then rolled us over. I was still hard inside Somi and ready to go again. With Somi on her back, I moved to my knees again and put the gorgeous woman legs on my shoulders.

“Gawd, Yunjin wasn’t lying about you, was she,” Somi said as I began pounding her again.

“Nah-uh, we’ve just gotten started,” I told her as my cock pumped in and out of her. My previous load now leaking out of her as I fucked her. We fucked like this for a while longer. She came again as I rubbed her clit and she played with her nipples as we fucked. I knew I was getting close again, but I still had time.

“Roll over, I wanna do it from behind,” Somi happily obliged. She made some comment about how all guys want to with her, but I wasn’t really listening. I was watching as she rolled over and instead if getting on all fours, she moved to the top of the bed and grabbed the headboard and stuck out her ass. I quickly moved in behind her and slammed my dick back into her. I loved watching her ass jiggle as we fucked.

“Remember earlier,” Somi said through gritted teeth as she looked back at me, “My ass. Stick your finger in my ass.” I gave my finger a long suck, I could still taste Yunjin on it, making it nice and wet.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Somi yelled as I fucked and fingered her ass. “You can fuck my ass you know. I got lube in the nightstand. You can stick your big, hard, married cock in my ass. When was the last time Yunjin let you do that?” I gave Somi’s ass a hard slap for insulting Yunjin, and because an ass like hers is hard not to spank.

“The morning after our wedding actually. Right before we had brunch with her parents and friends. As for the lube, we won’t need that.” I kept pounding her. Somi’s ass quivered as she climaxed once again. As I felt my cum rising from my balls, I pulled out of the Fast Forward singer. With one hand pumping my cock, I used the other to spread her ass cheeks. With my dick pointed at the target, I came all over her puckered asshole.

When I finished cumming I did not waste much time. I used my cock to spread my cum all over her asshole before I started to push the head into her puckered hole. Somi let out a loud groan as my cock head slipped in and then moaned as she pushed back, letting more and more of my shaft into her. I began banging her in the ass, though at a slower pace than before. At first, just to loosen her up a bit, but after a little while, it was just because I was physically exhausted. My cock and head were willing, but my body just couldn’t keep up with the fucking I had given Somi before. Even still we went at it for a few minutes. I gave her tight ass a few more smacks. I could see my red handprint starting to show up on her.

Feeling me slowing down Somi once again decided to take command of the situation. Again having me lay flat on my back, she then got something from her nightstand before mounting me reverse cowgirl. I watched as she pointed my cock towards the ceiling and then lowered her ass down. Somi looked back at me as she started bouncing her ass on my cock. I then heard the sound of something vibrating and Somi began crying out louder than ever. She had pulled out her vibrator and was using it to toy with her clit as she fucked her as with my hard-on. Somi came two more times before I finally painted her colon with my third load of the night.

When it was over I stayed down on the bed and caught my breath. Somi got down and cuddled up next to me. We stayed like this in silence for about 10 minutes. I knew what I had just done was wrong, and Yunjin would be devastated if she ever found out, but damn I would have done it all over again. Yunjin was right, Somi was my very much my type and she was also a hell of a fuck.

Looking over at the clock it was now getting to be early morning and I knew I had to leave. I told Somi I needed to use her shower. I turned on the water and began to soap up when Somi, still naked, walked into the bathroom with my clothes and put them on the counter. Instead of then heading back to bed, she then opened the shower door and got in with me. She stood behind me and washed my back. I could feel her breast press into my back, as she began reaching around washing my cock. Soon enough she had me hard again and she blew me once again until I came all over her face. She then said goodbye and went to bed. I finished up in her shower, got dressed, and snuck back to my room. It was passed 6:30 am when I got back to my room. Thankfully Yunjin was still passed out and looked like she had hardly moved since I tucked her in. I then stripped off my clothes, got back into my honeymoon bed and wrapped myself around my wife, before drifting off into a deep well-needed sleep.

[cowboyfromh3ll]

you said to do headcannons right?

can you do sex headcannons for the members of the gang? Only ones you're comfortable with obv. Personally, I don't care much for Micah (I want to set him on fire) so feel free to leave him out if you don't feel like writing for him

But the usual Dutch, John, Javier, Arthur, Charles, and anybody else you feel like are just perfect. I love your writing, so I'm excited to see your take on these

<3

Sex HC Ft. Van Der Linde Gang

(Dutch Van Der Linde, John Marston, Javier Escuella, Arthur Morgan, Charles Smith, Lenny Summers, Kieran Duffy, Micah Bell, Sean Macguire, Sadie Adler)

I should write for the girls more

Warnings: Smut, duh

Dutch Van Der Linde

He probably loves roleplaying

Pretending he's the outlaw and you're the officer punishing him

But most times he loves being in control of you, thinks it's so attractive when you submit completely to him and become his pliable little servant

Likes it when you wear expensive jewelry and gifts he buys you with nothing else on

Definitely wants you to call him Sir

Says the most poetic and flowery things to you during

Probably enjoys receiving but LOVES giving head. Views it as another way to take control

Quickies with him are non existent. To him, sex and intimacy are an art, and he will take his time with every little detail and aspect of it

Enjoys playful brattiness, definitely a brat tamer

I can see him being into BDSM. Ball gags, leather crops, leashes, blindfolds, etc

John Marston

Super messy, super rough, super desperate

Pussy eating pro. I'm talking mind blowing, back arching, toe curling, sheet gripping head. ALWAYS asks if he can go down on you

Acts like every time you two have sex will be the last

On the contrary though, I feel like he'd be into edging

Also doesn't mind letting you be dominant, he has such submissive energy

Mayhaps a mommy kink, because I can also see him calling you mommy

Would let you tie him up, totally at your mercy

He loses any semblance of shame, will beg, cry, whimper, you name it

Could consent to just about anything, if you tell him to bark he'll bark

Gets carried away when during sex sometimes, just gets absolutely drunk from pleasure

Javier Escuella

Incredibly romantic and passionate

He can fuck, but he can also make love

So much sexual stamina, and makes every time you have sex absolutely unforgettable

Loves to make sure you are as comfortable as possible and feel as though you have enough privacy. Even if it means paying for a hotel, he'll do anything to ensure your comfort

But if you wanna have risky public sex he's more than willing to as well lmao

Holds you and whispers how much he loves you while he thrusts slowly

But if y'all are fucking he'll say the filthiest shit he can conjur up in his mind while thrusting as hard and fast as he can

Slaps and grips anything he can hold onto

Overwhelms all of your senses and stimulates you in multiple ways at once

Loves cumming inside you but if not inside then on your torso or face

Arthur Morgan

Loves putting his whole weight on you when y'all fuck

Just simply pinning you down with the size of him drives him crazy

Is such a gentleman even during sex. Always stops and asks how you are and if you like how he's doing

Insists you don't have to go down on him but secretly loves it when you do

His favorite positions are ones where you're totally helpless like mating presses or locking your arms behind you

Whenever he fucks you from behind he wraps his massive arm around your neck. Idly squeezes down on your neck

Enjoys sex totally naked, makes it feel more intimate exposing yourselves fully to each other

But he loves it if you wear cute outfits for him just so he can take it off you

But he absolutely loves quickies. Complains they're too risky but every time you suggest one he's unbuckling his belt before you can finish your sentence

Definitely does the knee thing

Charles Smith

He is a pure giver. You will always cum at least 3 times or else he won't feel like he did a thorough job.

Will ignore his own aching cock as long as he can see you squirm in ecstasy

Your pleasure is his pleasure

Doesn't care if he doesn't get to cum tbh

Definitely aware of his size and uses it to his advantage if you're into that

Cages you in his arms, holds you down, puts you in choke holds, etc

I feel like he'd be pretty vanilla and you'd be the one to bring kinks to the table if anything. Will honestly do most anything you want if it brings you pleasure

Soft but firm touches, like every touch is done with intent and thought

Type to make out with you for hours without any actual stimulation and be content. Will see you off with the bluest balls.

Lenny Summers

He's still pretty young so I believe his experience would be limited

You two are probably eachother's first everythings, atleast you're his

Probably cums real fast but makes up for it with enthusiam

Will try out so many things with you, the two of you will both bring ideas to the table

Tries to start things off slow but his excitement gets the best of him

SO MUCH communication and talking during (feedback, jokes, etc...)

Very forward with his needs

Asks for hand/blow jobs a lot to blow off some steam

Very fast learner, and probably very risky

I feel like he'd ask to finger you a lot in risky situations

There's been instances where he just forgets foreplay altogether and just wants to go at it

Kieran Duffy

Submissive as hell

Definitely whimpers

Let's you take the lead 99% of the time

Will cum within five minutes max, and it really takes it out of him

Super sensitive literally everything. Touch him anywhere and he's blushing and squirming

Loves it if you wrap your thighs around his head

That being said, enjoys face sitting

Feels reassured when you tell him what to do and help him in the process

Hands roam all over you, it's like he can't fathom that you're a real being that's actually doing this with him

Eyes roll back and his face goes red when he cums. He's super embarassed about it

Micah Bell

SO rough. Drags you into position and commands you to do certain things

Likes slapping, hair pulling, spitting, I feel like he'd even be into piss. All of the above would go both ways for him.

Hate sex with him goes crazy ong. And after arguments? Just fucking all your anger away

Into degrading for sure

Sex is definitely the best emotional release for the both of you without actually hurting eachother

He's into marks. That entails scratches, bites, bruises

Make him bleed, literally beat the shit out of him during sex and he'll let it slide

Sex is a constant battle for dominance

Probably makes you do embarassing things for him like bark

Also puts you in obscene and embarassing positions just for his own pleasure

If anyone ever heard y'all have sex they'd think it sounds more like an argument and a fist fight than love making

Sean Macguire

The goofiest man during sex, not even intentionally either. He'll say the stupidest thing you've ever heard with his whole chest and you'll have to ask if he's serious

"You ready for the Macguire special?"

Loud ass moans, cannot contain them. If you're into public sex you better either prepare to be caught or mentally prepare yourself for the influx of scoldings/questions that'll come later

LOVES playful brattiness or when you want to take control. He's all for it

Has fantasies of being woken up with head

Will do the same for you in return if that's what it takes to enact his fantasies

Also into roleplay but way cornier shit like you're a nurse and he's a patient. Indulges in costumes as well

Drunk sex is the best because it's combining two of his favorite things

Sadie Adler

Also definitely does the knee thing...

Genuinely one of the sweetest and more passionate lovers, and it will translate during sex

Super gentle and passionate

Lot's of "I love you"s exchanged

Never any space between you, your limbs constantly intertwined as you kiss and move against eachother

Either of you can take the role as dom, it doesn't matter to her

Smiles the whole time out of pure adoration for you

Can be super sultry and kinky when the time calls for it though

Not opposed to being a little rougher but I can't see her going too far with that

Thinks you're far too delicate and special to be treated in such a way

[xjcjuis]

ARE YOU COMING HOME?

pairing: billie eilish x reader

synopsis: she gets a lovely surprise while on tour

warnings: nothing but FLUFF i love fluff, not proofread

wordcount: 0.9k

a/n: very late merry christmas and happy new year!! not my best work but please enjoy! anyways i need to be picked up and spun around plsplspls

long distance relationships are never easy, especially when your girlfriend is one of the most famous singers in the world. she's on tour right now, overseas and so, so far away from you and your empty arms.

or so she thinks.

billie's voice is a little tinny through the phone, crackles from foil heard as she unpacks the snacks she'd bought after her show. you watch in contentment, hugging a pillow to your chest with a leg exaggeratedly thrown over it, arm starting to go numb from holding the device up.

"i bought your favorite sweets too," she says, cutting the silence. "missing you so much, i really wish you could be here to steal from me." she ends her statement with a pout. oh, how you wish you could kiss that pout off of her lips. but soon. all you need right now is patience.

"so your friends- you guys went to a hotel just to watch a movie?" billie asks, a little confused. it was the best excuse you could think of out of nowhere.

"yup," you reply, popping the p. "they're not around right now, though. out shopping. i'm too broke and lazy to go out."

"i told you you could use my card, though."

"i'm not using your card, billie."

"you could if you wanted."

"no."

she frowns, as if she were the one losing something. billie did that a lot: shower you with expensive gifts and treats and dates and refuses to accept anything back. the fact only makes you happier about your plan, knowing she'd ask about the cost but it wouldn't really matter anyway because both of you were benefitting.

"when are you coming home?" a trick question. "i miss you so so bad. and i miss staying home with shark and just cuddling together. our bed is so cold without you."

"oh?" billie grins, eyebrow raising. before she could comment anything inappropriate, the doorbell rings on her end of the line. "ah, that must be room service. i ordered dinner. be back in a minute, love."

you grin to yourself now as she turns away to answer the door, knowing that there was a very big chance that it was, in fact, not room service. your ears prick up at the hint of a gasp, muffled voices exchanging polite conversation, and billie returns in frame holding a huge bouquet of flowers, an even huger smile on her face.

she was practically glowing, outshining the sweat and slight tiredness formerly seen on her face from her performance. "you're kidding me."

"what?!" you ask, laughing. your heart swells with pride.

"you didn't seriously get me this from, what, on the other side of the world?" your girlfriend asks incredulously, admiring the little pink and white petals you'd picked out and reading the note that said nothing but 'i'm proud of you'.

you push yourself up off the bed, casually pulling on a pair of socks before slipping on your shoes, making sure to not let it be seen on camera. "i had to call in a couple of favors from your manager, of course. i'm sorry it's not in my handwriting."

and it wasn't, because you knew that billie would recognize your strokes immediately, and that would blow everything else off.

you make your way to the main hotel door, making sure your face covered the background so that the girl on your phone didn't see its similarities to her own room. "hold on, baby, i'll call you back."

the singer's dark brows furrow at your abrupt dismissal. "okay. don't take too long."

"love you."

she didn't get to reply before you click on the red button and dash to the elevator, pressing her floor in the same hotel (though she didn't know it yet), having memorized the number by heart when she told you yesterday.

you get there, just in time for the room service server to roll his cart of to her door. pushing your nerves aside, you walk right up to him and excuse the interruption. "hi, sorry. my girlfriend is in this room and i was hoping to surprise her, would you mind if i borrowed your hat?"

he agrees, barely hiding a smile. thanking him, you took a deep breath to compose yourself, jamming the hat onto your head. your hand lingers over the bell, glancing nervously at the server, who in turn nods encouragingly at you.

ding.

footsteps can be heard from inside, and you count to five before the door swings open and you drop your head to hide your face, resorting to deepening your voice. "hello ma'am, room service-"

"y/n?" she gasps in recognition, incredulous. billie's hand is frozen on the doorknob, staring in disbelief.

finally, you raise your head and hand the server his hat back, your smile having difficulty in concealing a laugh. "surprise?"

you're unable to do anything more when billie snatches you up by the waist, raises you, and spins you around dramatically, her own lips wide in a grin. the sudden movement messes up your hair, getting it over your shoulder and behind and swept towards the opposite side but she didn't care. your girlfriend pulls you in close in a tight hug, one arm around your waist and the other resting upon your spine.

her happiness can still be felt blind.

she wouldn't let go, not for a second to get inside, not to formally accept the room service food, so you thank the server over her shoulder.

he leaves you and billie to your moment a little awkwardly.

"you didn't tell me you were here!" she whines into your hair.

you laugh. "that's the point of a surprise, bils."

"i can't believe you actually flew here. you hung up on me. i love you so so so much, you know that?"

"yes, i know." another soft smile graces your face. "i love you so so so much too."

[muwapsturniolo]

Hockey!Matt ᯓ★ Headcannons

Warnings…. there is some nsfw ahead but there is a warning before it starts but otherwise, it's pretty chill

ᯓ★ Hockey!Matt who.... Is a hothead on and off the ice. He couldn't help it really, ever since he was a kid he had a temper and it only got worse when he made it to the big leagues.

ᯓ★ Hockey!Matt who...Is the best center and enforcer, never losing a face-off and always making sure whoever has the puck has a clear path to the goal.

ᯓ★ Hockey!Matt who...Is so focused on his job he doesn't dabble in relationships unlike his brother and teammate Chris.

ᯓ★ Hockey!Matt who.... Has a bad article written about him by a specific sports journalist.

ᯓ★ Hockey!Matt who.... Meets said sports journalist at a press conference and can't help but find her fiery attitude attractive.

"You called me a brute if I remember correctly." He smirks, his eyes looking her up and down. "I actually said the energy you radiate when your head is in the game resembles the hulk who is a brute force. I never called you a brute specifically Sturniolo. If you're going to call me out, make sure you know what I said."

ᯓ★ Hockey!Matt who...Becomes obsessed with her after that small debacle.

ᯓ★ Hockey!Matt who... Reserves a seat at every game just for her, making sure it's the best seat so she can see him play.

ᯓ★ Hockey!Matt who... Pays for her to come to every game, covering travel fees, hotel expenses, as well as dining.

ᯓ★ Hockey!Matt who...Takes her out for dinner after playing against the Golden Knights, the two of them having a great time drinking, eating, and laughing.

ᯓ★ Hockey!Matt who...Wakes up hungover with the journalist in his bed naked....and a ring on their finger.

ᯓ★ Hockey!Matt who... Is oddly calm about the situation despite the girl waking up and freaking out.

"Oh god, oh god! Did we really do what every blackout drunk people do in Vegas and get married?!" Matt stands up and pulls on his boxers, walking over to the bathroom to brush his teeth. "We did, why are you complaining?"

"Why aren't you complaining?"

"Because now I don't have to face the fear of asking you to be my girlfriend when I can just call you my wife."

ᯓ★ Hockey!Matt who... Does just as he said and calls her his wife from here on out, treating her like a wife as well.

ᯓ★ Hockey!Matt who...Demands that she attend his games and wear his jersey.

ᯓ★ Hockey!Matt who... Points to her after every goal, sometimes even skating past and blowing a kiss.

ᯓ★ Hockey!Matt who... Always wears one of her signature star barrets when playing, or has it clipped to his pants pocket on a normal day, claiming it's his lucky charm

ᯓ★ Hockey!Matt who... Asks her to move in with him after 4 months of being "married".

���★ Hockey!Matt who... Despite being more of a dog person, knows she likes cats, so he gets her one as a move-in gift, claiming it's their child.

「 ✦ 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐋𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 ✦ 」

ᯓ★ Hockey!Matt who... The dominant energy they both have makes things in the bedroom exciting.

ᯓ★ Hockey!Matt who... Loves to fuck her in the locker room after a home game win, soon taking it back to their penthouse.

ᯓ★ Hockey!Matt who... Takes his frustrations of losing out on her in the bedroom, endless rounds until he feels like he 'won'

ᯓ★ Hockey!Matt who... Worships her, laying bewteen her thighs for as long as she will let him.

ᯓ★ Hockey!Matt who... Won't admit it but loves when she attaches a collar around his throat, yanking on it as he drives his cock into her cunt

ᯓ★ Hockey!Matt who... Loves to fuck her while shes in his jersey, it was something about seeing the black and yellow jersey attached to her body as she begs for him to go harder that releases an animalistic drive in him

ᯓ★ Hockey!Matt who... Loves to show off the scratches on his back in the lockerroom, enjoying the way his teammates gape at the deep scratches.

ᯓ★ Hockey!Matt who... After winning the stanley cup gives his girl the most passionate and soft sex they ever had before officially asking her to be his wife.

Purrrrr new trope! i'm very excited for this one and i'd love to do blurbs for this how i did with bunny!!